#( messmer. ) visage

[melkior]

Did everything for her- left everything, stripped all away of himself to take her sins upon his own name, no matter the cost- an endless holy war... And for what? To be forgotten. Abandoned. ...A scapegoat to protect her from her deepest fears...

why must the guard dog characters unquestioning devotion to their master be born from trust or some shit cant they be manipulated into it. raised into it. brainwashed even

[pyrefication]

tag dump

[katyspersonal]

Idk if you have enough to say since he’s a fairly minor character but can you give thoughts on the Hornsent (NPC)? I love him so much and I absolutely agree that he’s a huge parallel to Marika herself and I wanna hear more of your thoughts on that and him in general!

Hey, he is not THAT minor! xD All seven NPCs that were attracted by Miquella and are our guides through SOTE's lore are pretty much in the spotlight! Elden Ring's story just has these important Demigods and characters more strongly involved with them that their gravity makes it harder to focus on the Little Guy 😔 (and all Thiollier fans laughed sfdhfdh)

Okay so uhhh, I will post observations and thoughts in order, because yeah, with this guy you sort of need to pay attention twice or something?

1) He originates from Belurat

The kind of mask he is wearing could've created some confusion, but "the tower" exclusively refers to Belurat in the lore!

Freyja states this much at the beginning, and it is admittedly easy to forget because most likely you check this dialogue just on the first playthrough and before what 'tower' is clicks properly.. but yeah!

A more bold evidence here is that Hornsent will recognise the meal that is trademark of Belurat!

2) Don't be confused though, Grandam is not his mother!

He states in dialogues upon being killed by Leda and if he was not summoned to fight Messmer that his child, wife and mother were killed during Crusade!

2.1) He doesn't mention father nor gender of a child, though?

I think this on itself is interesting, and opens a bit more for potential backstory! His father might have been dead before the Crusade, or... maybe even divorced. x) Or maybe, he survived the Crusade, like Hornsent himself, but perished for another reason; maybe old age, maybe even upon seeking revenge as well? It would still make sense for him to not mention his father even then, because he would not count as massacred IN purge of the Tower!

Saying 'child', not 'son' or 'daughter', also gave me a kinda fucked up idea, listen! What if this means something? For example, his wife was merely pregnant, or the purge happened at the time when she just gave a birth, so he never learned whether it was a son or a daughter? I know I should not make it even darker than it already was, and it is probably just to specify the 'status' (he does say 'wife' rather than calling her by the name, after all)... But imagine...

In any case, his child was still very little! In Japanese he refers to his child as '幼子よ', and I checked... Yeah, it refers to basically an infant, it seems!

3) He is very reluctant to make a connection, even under spell!

After Tarnished gives him the Scorpion Stew, he gives them Furnace Visage (useful item for killing two Furnace Golems that can't be killed normally and to "wake up" one blocking the way in Ruins of Unte). His motivation is, "I desire not to be in your debt"!

And he refuses if you try to give him another Scorpion Stew:

The last phrase (お前と、慣れ合うつもりもな…) is more accurately says something like "I have no intention of getting used to you"! The only thing Miquella's spell did was to give him hope, but he can't open up even to "comrades"!

4) He is not likely to be a potentate, despite his mask!

He is wearing the mask that is otherwise worn by potentates, however, there is something else about potentates:

By the practice of his village of birth! It looks like this is basically a "family business" inherited through generations, something Hornsent already is probably excluded from, since he is one of the people of Belurat!

I think the simpler explanation for why he has this mask is not its context but its practical purpose: "to ward off thoughts and distractions (from his honorable quest of revenge)"! He must remain focused on vengeance; no friends, no falling into despair, no "wax nostalgic 'bout days gone by"... I also played around with the idea that this mask was from his mysterious never-mentioned father rather than something he picked somewhere! Maybe he was one of those Potentate barbarians that somehow climbed social ladder a bit by marrying a woman from Belurat! Don't know whether it is something possible in this society, it is hard to tell :p

Hornsent also doesn't use trademark weapon of Potentates, their butchering knife, but his weapon Falx - something created with the purpose of vengeance! I think it implies that he was not even a fighter before, and only started to wield weapon to begin with FOR vengeance!

4.1) He must not oblivious to where it comes from, though, so what does it say about his character?

Regardless of whether the mask comes from, I doubt he doesn't know its actual origin! I am positive that the people who executed Shamans are long ago dead, but the practice itself is alive. Besides, even Hornsent themselves get this treatment if they've convicted:

So you'd wonder what he is feeling avenging "his beloved people" who put other people in jars, and whether there is some hypocrisy, right? Well, I THOUGHT there was some awareness:

It makes it sound as though he is, at the same time, aware that his folks are not perfect either, and believes in Miquella's new world to fix their flawed, even barbaric culture as well, right? I double checked for Japanese text, and I do not really see it as translation mistake?

ミケラが、その誓いを違えず、一族をも救う神となるのなら

一族を、救って…

In Japanese, he uses 救, which means to 'save' or religious kind of 'salvation'! To 'redeem' doesn't seem to be too far removed from original meaning, but I'd say this gives off more of the vibe of 'salvation' that is justice for the martyred, for those who were murdered unfairly! Justice of God upon sinners and to help out the victims, rather than the 'cleanse our sins' kind of 'salvation'!

Maybe I am looking at it through the wrong angle, but I also kind of like this interpretation more! He is not exactly in the mindset to question imperfections or straight up hazardous religious practices of his nation when the wound of losing his own family, and countless other families being burnt in "cleansing" is what defines his whole life now! Hornsent culture deserves to be criticised, but it is not his priority for the long time now, maybe never again, and it is fair enough!

^ Another line pointing towards him certainly not having "criticism" towards his clan nor intending to, as this is translated very plainly:

…よくも、我らを汚物と呼んだものだ どちらが真に汚物なのか、自分でも知っていただろうに！

5) He disrespects Leda without crossing her boundaries

He never once addresses her by name! It is not just how he is, as he addresses not just Miquella by name, but also Marika and Messmer, his sworn enemies! However, Leda he addresses only as:

The thing is, she is not just Leda, she is Lady Leda! She has the title by her knightly status, and calling her by the name is something reserved only to either close people or those who wants to be an asshole on purpose x)

He surely would not call her Lady, and it could be not quite personal but just because he chronically dislikes Tarnished! But he also would not shorten the mental distance between them by using her name without honorfic. I think it is a neat detail!

6) He doesn't use the flasks to heal!

I actually only learned it from @slavonicrhapsody here ( x ) as I was not paying attention, but, yeah! Developers actually bothered to differentiate him by not having him use flasks, a thing of the Erdtree, that fits the lore!

7) His invasion location might be not coincidental!

Hornsent still invades us even if we helped him to complete his revenge upon Messmer because FromSLOP hates us and our desired bonds with the characters in case you haven't noticed that upon finding dead bodies of Ansbach and Thiollier lmao. But his invasion location is particularly quite close where Romina is, and in the place full of Scarlet Rot+! And Romina is herself form Belurat!

Perhaps, even though he called us a "comrade-in-arms", maybe meeting her made him turn upon us after all? Sure, he does say that after all, he doesn't wish Miquella's help but only vengeance upon everyone under Erdtree, but come on, dude, we are friends now!

But maybe meeting another Belurat survivor face to face after a long time knocked him back to his previous mindset harder, and he decided that "no, not a single person of Marika's world deserves to be spared, not even my comrade that helped me"! As opposed to just thinking up of a change of a heart on his own! It is one thing to keep the 'idea' of victims he is avenging in his mind as his compass, but another to meet one face-to-face, to see her living in the ruins now and latching onto twisted Eldrich God of endless death-and-rebirth that was not meant to be released similarly to Formless Mother! This is a far cry from Hornsent's religion and their worship of Divine Beasts from Heaven, Romina is "ruined" and so is the nature itself in some way, and it is all Messmer's and Marika's fault...

8) Another nameless character!

There are other characters in Elden Ring who abandon their names and instead take up titles that reflect their new purpose (like Dung Eater or Goldmask)! I can only assume that he forsaken his name, instead simply using title of his nation as one, after he lost his family. "The man I used to be died in the fires with them" kind of thing...

This is just an idea that I like, but I think if he was to ever find new relationship, he'd allow this person to refer him by the name or a nickname they pick for him! But he never wants to use his former name again. He might try to start a new life in the best case scenario, but never repair anything from the former one. Things once broken... you know.

9) You KNOW where his mapping skills come from!

He doesn't just also follow Miquella, but is an invaluable help to the team in picking and mapping his exact traces! He has been pursuing Messmer and his forces before in vengeance, and needless to mention that the size of Elden Ring's world is only scaled down for the sake of a videogame not making your brain AND computer explode x) He for sure needed a lot of spyoning, researching and seeking to both find his ways and not prematurely die.

I just think it works better if he lived comfortably in Belurat, a pretty high-class place, and HAD to develop both fighting and mapping skills as a response to his trauma and craving for revenge... I know there ARE military forces in Belurat too, but he is not exactly an armoured warrior, nor a Curseblade. And think about tragic drastic change of a character.... Miquella's charm sort of put those developed skills to a good use.

10) I am not sure what to think of his face data!

(From video by Zullie the Witch ( x )) I just had a flashback in black-and-white filter to the guy that passionately tried to prove us with the foam at his mouth that Fromsoft was super lazy, and honestly... all his arguments were super wrong, yet he never would mention something like THIS! You can absolutely tell that developers created one of these characters first, and then made the other one atop of these sliders instead of making a new one. 🙄

@slavonicrhapsody suggested that burnt marks on Hornsent's face could be from him surviving the purge, and I totally like this idea! Them making a unique character first with clear idea in mind and then remembering "ah, shoot, right we need a few annoying invader NPCs too" makes more sense! Especially since Potentates invaders are all generic, without variants! Basically, I think Hornsent holds priority in this kind of face data for obvious reasons, but, god, if they picked another type of beard, why not remove burnt marks? 🙄🙄 #FromSLOP

__________________

Tbh I already liked this character instantly upon first jumping into DLC! According to my friend @val-of-the-north people were thinking he was kind of an dick, which apparently absolutely went over my head as I didn't feel this way? Maybe it is because I am both familiar with distrusting other people as person with PTSD and not familiar with "being polite" as a concept as an autist lol dhsfh

I just found him intriguing, but his monologue after being summoned for Messmer scared me a little bit. The way he grows more obsessed with revenge, and doesn't intend to stop only at people who were actually guilty... Fun fact: I've summoned him on Messmer's arena by pure accident! XD I didn't know it could be done, I just randomly saw a summon sign while running from Messmer all over the place fhshfds Apparently it was a good call, because most people skipped this turn of character on their first play?

Also unpopular opinion, but I think him being "unlikeable" on some sort of objective level is good? I feel very strongly about the whole mindset of 'only feeling compassion for the 'good victim'' that lingers in society. Like... gooooood forbid if the victim becomes angry, or ends up hurting the world back, or otherwise develops the unlikeable traits, right? Only soft "likeable" victims that just weep and clearly never did anything wrong before OR after their trauma deserve compassion, right? (Slavonic I am using all my willpower to not link your post about Beebus rn fsdhfdhs) I think Hornsent developing negatively as a person is good and realistic. I praised the base game for how Dung Eater and Mohg were executed (not everyone who opposes the oppressive system or was a victim of it is automatically a good person), but Hornsent is not even a villain, and it is even better! He is "not good victim", and it doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve sympathy and recovery!

At the same time, really good character in his function, to show how revenge will only endlessly create more revenge infinitely! I think he deserves better than being automatically written down over what his mask item is given all the other context, and he definitely deserves all the "I can fix him" Tarnished bitches. 😔😔😔

[blasphemousclaw]

In regards to Morgott and/or Mohg: How do you think the Hornsent would feel toward them? Seeing as they both embody multiple aspects of the Crucible that aren't just limited to the horns(tail, wings), on one hand you'd think there'd be a certain reverence.

But they're both direct offsprings of Marika. Despite the aspects they bear, surely there'd be some level of scrutiny.

Would they have been revered? Or shunned? To bear such a divinely visage as the result of a curse...

... It's gotta be tough on both the twins.

depends who you’re asking… I can think of a number of different reactions hornsent people might have?

In general, I’m sure people would definitely think of them as highly ironic… like omfg they’re so #blessed to have such magnificent horns but they’re literally the offspring of the loathsome strumpet… what a waste. they bear the Crucible’s blessing, but that’s hardly a blessing in Marika’s world!

knowing how Marika treated them, some might feel sorry for them, or even might be angry on their behalf… but others might scorn them simply because they are Marika’s children, not seeing them as people, but as divine retribution for what Marika inflicted on their people. overall I don’t think any hornsent would see the twins as one of their own because again, omen are not hornsent, the hornsent are a culture which Mohg and Morgott weren’t born into… I can’t really make any other generalizations besides that because I think the twins’ identities are complicated and the hornsent would have many different opinions!

Hornsent (the guy) specifically I think would feel a sense of karmic satisfaction about the twins, similar to what he says about Messmer… “to think he dared call us savages, when he himself was the most base of all.” like ooh, Marika’s called us impure, but her own children are horned! I can see him distrusting the twins implicitly just because they’re children of Marika, but at the same time, he’s loyal to Miquella even though he’s Marika’s son because he pinkie promised to make up for his mom’s crimes (and backed up his convictions by literally removing his body parts)… so I think Hornsent definitely could come to trust and sympathize with someone like Mohg, who suffered at Marika’s hand and works against her and her Tarnished. perhaps Hornsent should’ve had a conversation with Ansbach! Morgott on the other hand he’d see as a highly cringe and offensive bootlicker

Hornsent Grandam would probably feel the same karmic satisfaction about the twins; as someone praying for Marika’s downfall every day she’d be like wow Marika and her kin really did get cursed lmfao. I do think she could be persuaded to take pity on them though, since they’re victims of Marika in their own way… maybe they could bond over some scorpion stew and she’d dispense some grandmotherly wisdom, at first begrudgingly but then with real affection…

it would’ve been so interesting to get a hornsent’s opinion on Mohg and Morgott, this is really making me wish that Hornsent and Ansbach spoke, and/or Hornsent found out about Mohg’s role in Miquella’s plans!

[abyssal-maiden]

Serpent's Hearth Pt. 5: Blissful Sacraments

Apologies for the delays! College is like that sometimes. Please hydrate and eat my lovelies. <3

Chapter warning: xBloodplayx xBoundingx xSmutx

!!!MDNI!!!: 18+ (( xbloodplayx xsmutx xpregnancyx xothersinsx))

XTouchStarvationxLightYanderexEnemiestoLoversxSizeDifferencex

Your senses initiate to the repeated sound of knocking. As your lids flutter open, you are confronted with…him. You lift your head, Messmer's warm hand slides down to rest over the left side of your collarbone. The forgotten lord of flame, snoring softly, beautifully slumped around you, serpents nestled comfortably between. He looked so peaceful and forlorn simultaneously. The knocking persists. You gingerly reach, brushing fiery strands from his face to reveal his closed eye. As you shift, the reptilian companions stir slightly, exposing Messmer's glowing iris as he wakes. He looks at you blankly for a minute as if deciphering if you’re real. He sits up slowly, hand running up your shoulder and cupping your neck before leaning into a gentle peck. He moves to your ear, kissing just beneath it, inhaling deeply before moving away. His scaled kin hiss in protest, hopelessly pulling at his frame towards your comfortable body heat. He sits on the edge of the bed groggily, securing his discarded gambeson around his waist as he stands. Quietly striding towards the door, rubbing his eye.

He’s careful not to open the threshold of the room too wide, opting to slip out and close it behind him. An ancient woman with a cane gives him a suspicious look through narrowed eyes. 

“Egidia…” He sighs.

“My lord.” The finger reader gives a shaky head bow. The servant pair holding her chair up look to be spent following the climb. 

“Forthwith with thy purpose..” he groans, still digging at his tired socket. “Thou wouldst disturb mine slumbering state, the first in moons.” 

At this, the old woman chuckles. “Most curious then, thee hath joined us in the corridor…” she ventures, glancing at the door, taking in his lack of shirt and steel. “ Wouldst thou not prefer to converse in thy bed-chamber, my lor-”

“State thee objective crone.” He hisses quietly over her.

“Very well, my lord.” She croaks in a malcontented tone. “Thee hast appointments to attend. Tis nearly high noon.”  She lifts her hand, the servants standing. “Dost thou intend to break thee fast this meridie?”

“I do desire such this day. See to it that it is grand. Enter not thine chambers unannounced.” He glowers as the group turns. “Do postpone mine audiences, I wish to bathe. Dismiss mine throne house servants until niht.” 

She looks as if to protest; the slitted eye of her sovereign warns her to cease any resistance. As they descend, he can hear the old matron cursing under her breath. He feels generous today; choice words never seem to affect the finger’s witch anyway, and he would not dare depose his mother's stooge too harshly. He enters the room to see you sitting at the table next to the window, observing the rampart. You’ve added a log to the fire, giving it new life in the cold stone hovel. A smile plays on his lips; you look beautiful in the midday glow of the Scadu Tree’s remains as your eyes cast over the distant ruins across the canyon. You turn your head to his towering image, a subtle look of uncertainty in your visage.

“Messmer…”

“Beg thee...another eventide to enjoy thou spell of firmament…” He murmurs, kneeling to sit eye-level, hand raising your knuckles to his lips. The heat grazes them as he soaks in the sight of you, your presence. His eye is vulnerable, his timbre possessive, like a puppy with a capacity for murder. He searches, but the flames have dispelled from your eyes. Verily, I shall make thee gaze shine anew, lightless minx.

He’s grasping at your head and pulling you to his lips. Leaning forward into your enchantment. He’s on his knees in front of the stool you inhabit, clinging to you as his tongue osculates around your own. His fingers hungrily dig through your hair, sliding down your frame at individual paces, exploring delicate blushing flesh under the calefying aura of his touch. The wood scrapes as he pulls your seat toward his chest so that his chin is nestled comfortably between your breasts. He looks up at you unguardedly, his face flushed. He parts his lips to speak but is interrupted by another knock at the door. He sits up from his crouching posture, sighing. 

“Mine honored beauty, sit upon the bed but for a moment.” He whispers, pulling your hand as he gets up.

Following his lead, you plant yourself on the side of the large circular piece. He smiles, finger tracing your chin as he draws the tattered curtain past its scorched edge. He answers the door once more. You survey the burns in the fabric, how they're ripped into frayed holes at the front end as if taken in rage, several of the small rings broken off the rod above. From behind the veil, the clattering of trays and the hushed pleasantries of several servants entering and departing can be heard. You try your best to hold your breath.

He’s met with a pout when he pulls the curtain back, his brow communes a look of concern. The attitude dissolves almost instantly when the heaping feast behind him beckons you. Every fruit, grain, green, and meat you could imagine was laid intricately on a tray, white groupings of various cheeses dotted in different parts. 

“I’ve never seen so much fresh food in one place…” Your eyes betray a look of esurience. He seems delighted, standing straight, a proud gleam in his eye at your amusement.

“Tis for thee…” he glances away bashfully—his hand motions for you to sit at the table again. He drags his chair to the flank of your stool. Hand drawing circles on your thigh as he watches you eat. He periodically snags a grape, a chunk of cured meat, an olive, the like—his attention shifts between your lips and your hands. The serpents intruded by flecking at the dried delicacies and retreated at a soft cough from their master.

“Forgive me, I must quell these ravenous pests.” he hisses, rising and walking to the room's opposite corner. A small door above the end table opens, and he reaches in, fingers gripping the tails of a couple of mice. You could hear the squeaking terror as he tossed them into the air. The rest you turn away from, 

Your meal, however delicious, adjourned shortly after. Messmer excuses himself, returning a few moments later to collect you. He insists on carrying you down the winding staircase, passing the hall from which you originated. The snakes snuggle up in your lap and the curve of your neck. His heart beats quickly against your eardrum as you rest your head against him; glancing up, you meet his gaze. The glowing of his seal always gave away his attention in the dark, but he did not shy away from you now. 

“I cannot recall when last I enjoyed companionship…”

“How…long has it been for you..?” You blush in the dark, thankful for the dimly lit area. You had not been with a man since your reanimation and hoped it was not evident from your performance. 

“Well….” he pauses momentarily, the steps echoing around your movements. “I suppose…fifteen, no, sixteen hundred cycles now.”

You hear the wall appears behind you after exiting the stairwell. Another previously unseen awning across from the entry gate emits a pleasant aroma mixed with humidity.

How many fucking secrets did I miss?

The bathroom pillars extend the length of the room—a charred granite disrupted by cracks of gold from the floor to the vaulted ceiling. The space is filled with steam, myrrh wafts along with it. Trays of exquisite crystalline bottles line the right side of the wide bathing pool. The sides of the bath host an indented sitting ledge along the entirety of the inner perimeter, delving deeper towards the back of the room. Custom-built for the giant pawing at your thighs as he sets you on your feet. The ancient-looking candle stacks come to life as he enters, dropping his vestments on the slab floor and stepping down. He turns to you, holding his lengthy arm out, clawed hand extended. The serpents seem to gather together on his shoulders, giving the impression they dislike this particular activity. 

You take his hand, venturing out over the first step, water lapping at your thigh as it sinks into the warmth. He looks down and chuckles at your height. 

“Mine perfect toy.” He mumbled, sitting on the ledge and drawing you down onto his lap in the hot water. 

His fingers move in the air, and the doorway gives way to the illusion of brick.  Hands sloppily eager with pursuit, sliding up between your breasts to grip your neck, the other between your thighs. He inhales along your neck, pulling your head back, nipping your ear before rasping quietly.

“Ne’er have I felt such in the presence of another.”  His fingers spread across the gap of your thighs under the water, his ring and index gently running down your labia carefull not to part it just yet. 

“I extend thee an accord, A union wrought in lightless possession.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but his grasp slips into your open lips, nail tracing the center of your tongue.

“I wish to bind thee.” He groans, lifting you slightly with his grasp on your pussy. “Such impious fealty I would pay with mine own head.” 

His fingers curl, gripping the front of your slitted joy, plunging only knuckle deep. They teasingly alternate under the water; you feel his breath in your ear again.

“I will make thee fold in mine thrall.” he moans, you can feel his throbbing member against your back as he yanks at your cunt. “Thou shall want for naught, ne’er another.”

You moan around the digit penetrating your lips. His iris trembles with ecstasy, watching his finger covered in your saliva slide through your muffled mewls. 

“Agree.” He pulls harder against your sensitive clit, fingers parting the folds in the bath's warmth. 

“Agree.” His whisper is more commanding than before. His tongue slides up your neck; he sucks gently before plunging the two fingers into your hole.

“Say you are mine, mine alone, tarnished.” His finger pulls out of your gasping breaths as the two inside of your slit move around. His lips part in the effort, his pumping feverish before he moans again.

“ Say you are mine.”

“Yes me-MesSMer!” That familiar pulsing forms in your guts as his fingers dig into your core. “I am for thee alone!”

“Speak with sincerity, cherished little toy!” He hisses in your lobe, pulling back and using his spit-slicked grip to turn your face towards him. The water splashes around his bicep as he beats your cunt with his large hand.

“Dev…Devotion, my lord. I will bid devotion!” you call out as your body spasms in a twitching symphony around his hot fingers.��The snakes have regained motivation as they observe and caress your flushed face.

You gutturally moan when he rises, gripping your left breast and right hip. The water cascades down as he stands, spinning around so your hands are slapped against the cold perimeter before being seized again. There is no hesitation in the first thrust as he bucks into you from behind, begging you for your capitulation in short, murmuring bouts. Miel and Purkoy constrict your arms, pulling them back into Messmer's thrusts. His hand leaves a stinging mark on your ass as he loses himself, hips jerking forward wildly against your addictive body. He leans down, the force of his cock pushing you to drooling bliss. 

“Thee must submit most wondrously, exchange for mine endless heed. Give me wholeness, and I will reward thee eternal.” The silk command flows into your mind easily.

You nod vigorously as he pulls on your hair, using the excess leverage to push the limits of your distending folds.  His sharp talon slides across the side of your neck as he pounds relentlessly, his glowing eye obsessive as he watches your blood well up. He rips at his palm, waiting for your gasp as his teeth sink around the slit on your throat, slipping his blood into your maw and stifling the moan. The taste of copper laces with the heat of his flaming ichor, running down your throat, warming your body as your breasts slip and bounce against the granite of the bath with each forward motion of your lover's girth. His moan vibrates against your neck as he sucks.

“Yes, oh....gods. F-fuck, yes!” your voice is barely audible as the pounding of your snatch mixed with the splashing of warm water against Messmer’s swinging testicles and tensed thighs as they collide with your rump.  

He smears his blood all over your beautiful chin, pretty deep crimson on glass skin—your cheeks tingle, your eyes alight with his flame once more. He mewls joyfully at the sight, his left hand cupping your oblique before sliding to feel your tummy underneath. He moans, feeling the way his cantilever is hollowing you through your soft skin as he drives vigorously into your quaking split. His blood is eventually dripping from your hip, shoulder, neck, everywhere as he squeezes each part possessively with his leaking palm. Taking account of your form with his abyssal envy, moaning in ecstasy as he paints you in red. He can feel his need pooling in his lower stomach.

“Thou’rt mine.” He lustfully calls out to you.

His hot palms wrap the front of your thighs; the serpents tighten their hold on your arms. He’s lifting you, shoving himself into your tight trembling pussy. You’re on the verge of melting away while suspended when he shoves one of your legs up onto the edge of the pool. One hand stroking the base of his cock as he watches the cream of pleasure slowly collect along his shaft with each push of his convulsing monster. The constriction of your walls sucks every drop of his semen from his hulking phallus. You hear his hands come down on either side of your stimulated being as his faltering pace becomes slow and deep, shooting hot pangs against the limits of your sensitive walls. His long hair tickles your arched back. He stays like that, panting, pulling out with a slight gasping hiss as he views the mess he’s implanted spilling down your inner thighs. 

“Thou’rt mine.” He repeats, sitting back down in the bath, head leaning against your thigh as you lean on the side for a second to catch your breath. He pulls you back onto his lap.

“Thou’rt bound by blood.” He turns you, pulling your chin and placing a long, steamy smooch against your willing lips. “Thou willst know the imbuement of everlasting longing”

Your tongues dance for a while, the cloud of red surrounding you two dissipating over time. The mixture of blood adorns both of your faces as it is exchanged between the caressing of cheeks. The ritual is only dispelled when a shocked gasp sounds from the direction of the doorway. 

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[a-grim-thin-hope]

Hi there! I'm Jael.

You might know me from two nearly, vaguely "popular" works on the archive if you like Mouthwashing and/or Messmer from Elden Ring. Nobody coerced me to make an account except my own darn self. I always loved interacting with authors I met online or when I appreciated their works--and as I happen to love to chat, figured I'd throw myself at your mercy.

Shoot me questions, comments, concerns, quetzalcoatls, insults, hate, proposals of marriage, and any variation on a theme such as your favourite books, poems, songs, or time of day. I will answer them all.

Ask me for a fic rec! There's at least a 20% chance I've got one for your fandom and there's so many fics I've collected over the years that are so peak and need more attention.

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If you were curious about my works or what I have going on, let me give you a brief overview:

POSTED:

WAITING FOR ME TO GET FAITHLESS (BUT I WORSHIP THE GROUND)

Elden Ring, 1/1 (16k), Messmer/Tarnished, Messmer/OC, Rated G.

Making her way through the Realm of Shadow, a Tarnished Witchmaid comes across the Impaler in his grim Keep and begins to wonder if there's not some way to change her fate--and his. You see, she really doesn't want to be Marika's consort.

Features: a character study into Messmer, fancy old modern English, tense yet curious dialogue, belligerent tension, unwilling intimacy that comes from fighting your not-quite-enemy for hours, and the growing desire to make the tall hot snake man your legal husband. She's just a girl.

EXCERPT:

"The darkness ahead of her shifts, fading with the light of the candles. The raised dais, like a pillar among ruins, holds a throne similar to that before the Erdtree. And in it waits Messmer, his spear thrust into the ground beside him. He rises to his feet, lanky, slender, and wholly menacing. Most Demigods and divine-adjacent had their visages ravaged by the Shattering and their part in it. Yet not Messmer."

YOU KNOW YOU'RE BETTER THAN THIS

Mouthwashing, 1/1 (34k), Curly, Anya, and the rest of the crew, Rated T, Time-Travel Fix-It with a Twist.

Jimmy kills himself and takes the easy way out. Curly, trapped in the cryopod, wishes more than anything to take the responsibility his deranged co-pilot wouldn't. Days before the crash, the Captain wonders if he's going crazy, suddenly haunted by a maimed, limbless man that none of his crew can see.

Or: Curly, Anya, and the future ghost of his mistakes.

Features: well-rounded characters that try to stay as close to canon as possible, a messy and toxic friendship between Jimmy and Curly that nonetheless tries to look at each angle, an exploration of Anya and a prevention of her canonical full assault, the friendship between Curly and Anya and how it should have gone if he listened, all orchestrated by the weird appearance of Post-Crash Curly, following himself around.

EXCERPT:

"He hopes wherever he goes after death, it isn’t nice to him. He hopes he never sees Anya when he’s there. [...] He wonders if Jimmy will be there too, and can’t find it in himself to be content about that, but thinks it's probably fair."

WIP/PLANNED:

MAY DEATH FIND YOU ALIVE

Death Note, 1/1 (9.8k--?), Lawmane (L/Misa), slight One-Sided Lawlight, Probably Rated T, Slightly a Fix-It, Mostly Canon-Compliant, Largely a Character Study

In the dead of night, L’s surveillance is interrupted by an unexpected visit from Misa Amane, turning what should have been a one-off conversation into something that quickly spirals out of control. Soon, neither can ignore the delicate (and very foolish) curiosity that unfurls between them—nor return to who they were before the lines blurred. And so, the quiet destruction of Light’s new world is set in motion.

Features: a no chain, no torture AU, a Misa who isn't sidelined and is developed more while keeping her core the same, a faithful characterisation of L that looks into his mind and keeps him alive, a touch-starved genius whose intense focus begins to shift, a recognition of how key Misa's loyalty and devotion is, and a whole lot of gratuitous tension, physicality, stunted emotions, and fanservice (for me. I'm the fan).

EXCERPT:

"Cameras were usually so kind to Misa Amane, perfectly capturing the beauty that was so eagerly pasted across thousands of magazines in Japan. In the dim haze of the headquarters at night, though, L's feed did her no favors. He liked her better that way, nearly... [...] It wasn't any conceived notions about standards of attractiveness, or a leering hunger at the expanse of pale skin. There was just something more honest about a person when they had clawed their way out of sleep."

[runningwolf62]

My personal theory about Messmer's dad is that he's been turned into a jar person. I think he was someone Marika knew when she was mortal. I think he was part of the shaman village and Marika was the only survivor. I think Messmer was cursed by the Hornsent's fire god (depicted in the Furnace visages) and that's where the fire and snakes come from. He might've even been born before she reached out to the Two Fingers. But yeah, I think she was a normal woman with a normal family, and that life was destroyed and a predatory god used the chance to have a champion.

[lazyladyxeno]

The Judge's Verdict

Drabble : 558 words

In the Land of Shadows, silence was a language unto itself. The air was heavy with the scent of foreboding; even the bravest souls tread lightly, for the ground itself seemed to whisper of dangers lurking just out of sight. 

Messmer The Impaler, a name bestowed upon him by the outcasts stripped of grace's reach, now resided in the barren moor. Born of celestial blood, he lived among the exiled, fated to rule over them with the dual authority of judge and executioner, awaiting the prophecy's fulfillment.

```

Seated upon his throne, Messmer felt the Erdtree's grace waning in the distance, akin to a faltering flame struggling against the encroaching dark, yet persisting with a faint glow.

The Land of Shadows stood on the cusp of change, a destiny unavoidable. A threat loomed within his realm—an intruder. A Tarnished, beckoned by the Erdtree's call, returned to the Lands Between chosen by Queen Marika the Eternal herself. 

The prophecy was revealed to him in a dream: a golden circle, outshining the sun, destined to be embraced not by a demigod but by this mere Tarnished. This figure, led by the dim grace that had steered his taxing quest to ascend as the Elden Lord, now stood before him. 

The Impaler slowly stood from his throne, gripping his lethal spear with measured elegance, as he watched the invader closing their distance, undeterred.

Could such a Tarnished, devoid of Light, indeed be worthy of lordship? 

```

The Impaler retracted his spear from the Tarnished's chest, allowing the form to collapse unceremoniously upon the shadowed earth. His gaze lingered upon the vanquished, a blend of compassion and esteem coloring his perception, recognizing now a valiant adversary, yet also a spirit adrift.

“Thou hast waged a commendable battle, Tarnished, albeit to no avail,” he crouched beside the fallen warrior, elevating his head. The eyes of the Tarnished, wide and unyielding, met his own, still brimming with defiance, still vibrant with life.

“Why dost thou resist surrender? Why dost thou deny the destiny that beckons, Tarnished?”

The Tarnished offered no retort, save for a sanguine cough that marred Messmer's palm. He sought his blade, yet his limb was flaccid and devoid of life. He endeavored to revile the Impaler, but his utterance was faint and raspy. He aspired to withstand Messmer, yet his resolve was waning, ebbing away.

Messmer tenderly closed the Tarnished's lids, his touch gentle upon the visage. A surge of warmth, a sense of kinship, a connection unfurled within him. He was touched by grief, by remorse, by a sense of bereavement.

“Hark, Tarnished, and heed my words with care, for I extend a clemency, a clemency thou art unworthy of,” he proclaimed.

In the Tarnished, he beheld a mirror of his essence, a specter of his bygone days, an echo of his own shortcomings. He discerned in the Tarnished a latent adversary, a formidable contender, a perilous foe—a vestige of a brother once cherished, now lost to time.

“I am ignorant of the means by which thou hast uncovered this secluded realm, yet I implore thee, depart from this place,” Messmer rose, leaving his foe in his wake, and strode toward his throne. “For thee, and all others, there lies naught but despair.” 

He abandoned the Tarnished, still living, yet how long he would persist, The Impaler could not fathom.

[khadgarbignaturals]

there’s like. no way at this point messmers fire ISNT related to giantsflame. the furnace golems alone have at least 2 references to the fire giants, the particular swirls of horns around the visage in almost the exact shape as the fire giant’s eye, the actual fire giant visages on the legs of the golems, and messmer’s fire.

my theory with messmer’s flame is that it’s giantsflame infused with the power of the abyssal serpent inside him. my evidence for this is:

1) his fire specifically is needed to burn the shadow thorns around enir ilim. the giantsflame is what melina needed to burn the erdtree. makes u think

2) previously mentioned furnace golem shit

3) his fire is different from giantsflame in pretty much only one aspect: the black snakes. his fire is pretty much always threaded with shadowy snakelike tendrils

4) if he’s marika’s firstborn, he must also be godfrey’s son. godfrey famously waged war against the fire giants because the giantsflame is capable of burning the erdtree

[malkavi-ann]

When the Truth Hurts. Chapter 4

Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree fanfiction

Rating: Mature (May change in the future)

Relationship: F/M

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler/Original Female Character

Tags: Self-Loathing, Reference to Depression, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Messmer is bad at feelings, Mommy Issues, Abandonment Issues, Mostly Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Tarnished never arrives to the Land of Shadow, Friendship/Love

Link to Ao3

Chapter 4: The Shadow Keep

Meanwhile, Messmer’s men were waiting for his liege to return outside. Some of them were having an idle chat, while others were watching the door closely, and Commander Gaius was one of them. Truth be told, he was concerned about Messmer’s well-being. They had known each other since they were serving the Golden Order in the Lands Between. Both of them suffered from afflictions that made their life miserable, and perhaps because of that their bond grew stronger as the years passed. When Marika ordered Messmer to wage war on the Hornsent, he personally appointed Gaius to lead his army into the Land of Shadow. All these years they fought their enemy side by side. When they weren’t fighting, Messmer would confide in Gaius about his fears and feelings related to his mother’s absence. Therefore, the albinauric warrior knew very well how deeply Messmer was concerned about this mysterious woman who could be Marika’s imposter.

Gaius’ thoughts got interrupted by a loud rumbling “oink” that came from his mount, a giant boar which he gently called his other half. “What’s that, Penelope? Have you grown tired already, my dear?”, he playfully asked his beloved animal. Penelope shook her head and grunted, expressing her disagreement mixed with concern. “Now, now, no need to fuss over me. I’m just a wee bit worried about my dear friend. But I’m sure he will be alright. He has been through a lot, but he’s a strong man.” The boar got quiet for a moment and then grunted softly as if she was trying to reassure her companion. “Ah, I do appreciate your concern, my dear.”, Gaius said as he patted his loyal mount on the back of her head. Penelope squealed with delight and finally calmed down.

The sun slowly started to set when two figures finally emerged from the hut. Messmer’s men sighed with relief when they saw their leader appear unharmed, but their demeanor changed drastically when their eyes fell on the female figure following Messmer. Many soldiers and knights in Messmer’s army were Marika’s followers who worshiped her with fervor. And so they were also hoping for their Queen’s return; however, nothing could have prepared them for what they saw: a visage resembling Marika but plagued with a mark of their sworn enemy. Morgana could feel all those looks filled with disgust pointed towards her and it made her skin crawl. She wondered what exactly about her presence had made these people so deeply upset. Messmer also took notice of how the attitude of his soldiers had changed once they saw Morgana. He stepped in front of her, his figure hiding her from the silent hostility.

“We shall take this woman to the Shadow Keep for further interrogation. No harm shall be inflicted upon her.”, Messmer announced. His men exchanged puzzled looks as they couldn’t understand why they should spare this imposter from death. Nevertheless, Messmer’s orders were not to be argued with, so they had to obey.

Messmer turned to Morgana, “You said you could awaken my soldiers from their slumber”. She nodded, “As long as they are moved away from the blood fiends, yes. Otherwise, the soldiers might attack them again once they’re awake”.

“Fair enough”, Messmer said. He ordered his men to move the sleeping bodies of the scouts away from the blood fiends. Once they were at a safe distance from the shack, Morgana closed her eyes and whispered an incantation. In an instance, the sleeping soldiers started to wake up, yawning as they were getting up from the ground. After they finally came to their senses, the envoy was finally ready to return to the Shadow Keep.

The journey back to the Shadow Keep was quite uneventful and mostly silent. Every now and then some soldiers would quickly look over the horned woman and exchange hushed murmurs of disapproval. It was getting dark when they finally reached the gates of the keep. One of the Fire Knights approached Messmer and Gaius, “My lord, where should we take the…uh…prisoner?”. For a moment, Messmer considered the options: there wasn’t a functioning prison in the keep as his army didn’t tend to keep captured Hornsent alive for too long. He was trying to remember if there were any spare rooms where Morgana could be kept under lock when Commander Gaius chimed in. “We could take her to one of the prayer rooms in the church district and put a couple of guards at the door to make sure she doesn’t escape.”

Messmer nodded, “That sounds reasonable. Thank you for your suggestion, Commander”. He then turned to the knight, “Take her to the prayer room and arrange guarding shifts. Keep an eye on her day and night.” The Fire Knight bowed slightly before heading towards Morgana, who was surrounded by the foot soldiers. Messmer and Gaius heard him give orders to the soldiers and after that, they took Morgana away.

”Well, that was certainly an unusual encounter”, Gaius said.

“Indeed. Out of all possibilities, I didn’t expect this to happen.” Messmer remarked.

“What exactly happened in that shack? And why in the name of the Erdtree did you decide to bring this woman here?”, asked Gaius.

”Let us speak in private. I do not wish anyone to overhear us. Come with me, my friend.” Messmer turned around and headed towards his chamber while Gaius followed behind him. After taking a brisk walk through the keep, they entered the Dark Chamber. The room greeted them with silence and complete darkness. Messmer made a slight gesture with his left hand and the candles around the room lit up with his flame.

“I was worried about you, Messmer”, Gaius began. “I know that your mother means a lot to you, but I still cannot comprehend why you kept that woman alive. She looks like a Hornsent.”

”Oh, believe me, my friend, I did want to kill her on the spot once I saw those wretched horns. To distort my mother’s visage like that? Such a blasphemy. And yet I couldn’t do it. Despite the horns, that woman reminds me so much of her. It’s like she’s back here with me.”, Messmer said.

”I see. Can’t say I blame you for that.”, his albinauric friend was always incredibly understanding, and this time was no exception. “In any case, my other question still stands: why did we bring her here?”

”She mentioned that she comes from the Lands Between, so I reckoned she might know something of the current state of affairs there. And perhaps she may have information about my mother too as she said she used to live at a palace.”, Messmer replied, his words filled with desperate hope.

”That is rather curious. But couldn’t you get that information from her when we were at the hut?”, Gaius questioned his friend further.

“The woman has lost her memories so she couldn’t give me any details about her life in the Lands Between. So, I thought that maybe with time she could regain her memories, and then we could interrogate her.” When Messmer was trying to explain his reasoning, he could feel that Gaius was hesitant to accept his explanation.

“Hmm, I suppose that could be possible. But what if her memory doesn’t come back? What are we to do then?”. It was clear that Gaius had doubts about this plan, and quite frankly, Messmer was also unsure if it was possible.

“In that case, we’ll get rid of her.”

Gaius nodded in response, seemingly satisfied with Messmer’s reply. “Is there anything else we should know about her?”, came another question.

Messmer hesitated for a few seconds: he needed to consider what information he could share even with his friend. Though they’d been close friends for a long time and they trusted each other deeply, Messmer was still afraid that Gaius would think less of him for his true intentions.

”Her name is Morgana, and she’s been afflicted by the Omen curse since she was born. That’s why I mistook her for a Hornsent.”, he finally spoke.

”An Omen? From what I recall, Omen folk are much bigger and more violent than this woman.”, Gaius remarked, and Messmer had to agree with his friend.

”Indeed, I found it hard to believe as well. However, since she comes from the Lands Between, and the Omen curse doesn’t exist in the realm of shadow, I’m inclined to trust her on that.”

The two men stayed silent for a while as both were processing the events of the day. Gauis looked at his friend intently: was there something Messmer was not telling him? While his reasons for keeping this woman alive had some validity, it seemed as if Messmer was trying really hard to convince Gaius that there was a legitimate need to bring her to the keep.

”My friend,” Gaius said gently, “if there’s something you wish to get off your chest, I’m always here to listen to you with an open mind. And I swear on my honor that everything we’ve discussed here shall remain a secret.”

Messmer smiled wearily, “Thank you, Gaius. Your support means a lot to me.”, he paused. “Now, if you excuse me, I wish to be alone for a while.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted, my friend. I shall leave you be. Rest well.” And with that, Gaius exited the Dark Chamber, leaving Messmer alone to ponder the events of the day.

Messmer turned his gaze towards the statue of Marika which was hidden in the shadows of the chamber. He still couldn’t believe that everything that had transpired earlier that day was real. Now that he was back in the Shadow Keep, it all felt like a distant dream. Yet, that woman was here, locked up in one of the prayer rooms of the keep. Messmer sighed heavily: now that he could think a bit more clearly, he realized how desperate and irrational his actions were. And, judging by his conversation with Gaius, his loyal friend remained doubtful about Messmer’s true reasons behind Morgana’s imprisonment.

Truth to be told, there was another reason why Messmer decided to bring her here. After seeing how much this woman looked like his mother, he simply couldn’t let her go. All these years he’d been yearning to see Marika once more. And when he looked at Morgana, he could almost see his mother right there in front of him. His common sense and rational thinking kept telling Messmer that he was wrong for hoping that this woman could somehow replace Marika’s presence in his life. Nevertheless, he chose to follow his heart. Was he really that desperate and weak? Just thinking about this situation made him despise himself even more.

”Pathetic.”, Messmer said out loud to himself. “You have always been pathetic, and you shall remain that way till your very end. Maybe you deserve to be abandoned by the one who you love most.”

He looked at his Mother’s stone visage once again. “O Mother, forgive me for my sins.”, he prayed silently. There was, of course, no reply, but Marika’s statue always watched over him with a smile. In his mind, Messmer preferred to believe that she would forgive him no matter what for her maternal love was unconditional.

* * *

Morgana was following the knight through the keep. She was surrounded by a couple of soldiers who kept a very close watch on her. Agreeing to come here was most certainly a mistake since everyone treated her like a dangerous prisoner. However, it was too late to regret her past actions. Besides, she didn’t have much choice to begin with. Maybe the man with the serpents was right, and her memory would come back to her with time. Or maybe it was all a ruse to get her captured.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the chatter between the guards. “We should take her through the Specimen Warehouse if we want to take a shortcut.”, one of the soldiers to her left said, addressing the knight in front of her. “I’m well aware of that. Now shut up and stick to your duty, soldier.”, the knight cut the guard off.

As they entered the Specimen Warehouse, Morgana was taken aback by how enormous this part of the keep was. There were multiple levels connected by stairs and elevators, and each of these levels contained hundreds of thousands of ancient tomes, scrolls, and stone inscriptions. Who knew what kind of knowledge and wisdom could be gained from perusing this collection? Morgana, who had been mostly looking at the floor on the way to her cell, started looking around the warehouse with excitement and curiosity. But the most astonishing thing about this place wasn’t its size or its extensive amount of books. It was the mummified specimen of animals and even people whose bodies were covered with horns. Their corpses were either suspended by the chains or displayed on large platforms around the library. The mere sight of these dead creatures was both breathtaking and terrifying. An eerie thought crawled into Morgana’s mind: would this be her fate if she didn’t regain her memories? Would she be murdered, mummified, and put on the display? Thinking about it made her sick to her stomach, and the sliver of hope that she’d had before began to wane. Disgusted by the morbid sights, she averted her gaze and tried to concentrate on the positives: she was still alive, and there was still a chance, though slim, for her to reach her goal.

Morgana was so consumed by her thoughts, that she didn’t notice that they’d reached a stone platform that took them to the lower levels of the keep. As they made their descent, the air changed drastically: the warm scent of parchment and leather of the books was replaced by a stale odor of something cold and damp. When the platform came to a halt, Morgana realized why it smelled so putrid: this level of the keep was surrounded by murky water.

“Thank Marika, we’re almost there.”, one of the soldiers murmured, avoiding being heard by his superior. “Can’t wait to bugger off and get some bloody rest”. The guards were obviously not happy with their duties. But it seemed that the knight didn’t hear - or pretended to not hear - the soldier’s rumblings. Soon enough they reached a wooden door tucked away in the corner of the building they were in. The knight opened the door and gestured for Morgana to enter the room. “Get in.”, he ordered sharply. Morgana obeyed silently and walked into a dimly lit prayer room. The door behind her slammed shut, and she heard the sound of keys rattling in the keyhole. She was now locked in a room that had no windows except for a tiny opening in the door with iron bars that separated her from the rest of the world. In a moment the rattling stopped, and Morgana could hear the sound of footsteps that grew fainter and fainter as the knight with the soldiers were making their exit from the building.

Morgana looked around the room, which was now her prison. There were a few benches and a couple of chairs that faced an altar adjacent to the back wall. As there were no windows, the only source of light was candles placed on the wooden holders. Most of them were almost completely gone, sitting in the solidified puddle of wax, while some were still giving off feeble light. It seemed as if this room wasn’t frequented by the keep dwellers and therefore was as solitary as its only occupant.

Morgana wanted to consider her next steps, but she was too exhausted to even think. There was no sign of a bed, and the chairs were too small for her. “Looks like sleeping on the floor is my only option. Good thing I’ve already gotten used to it”, she said to herself. She took off the cloak and threw it on the cold stone floor to make it slightly less comfortable to sleep on. When Morgana finally lay down, she whispered a quick prayer to the Formless Mother. Even though her sacred seal had been taken away, saying a prayer brought her a sense of comfort. Feeling slightly better, Morgana closed her eyes and drifted into the world of dreams.

__________________________

Note: Hello dear readers! First of all, thank you for your patience! I know it's been a while since the last update. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to work on this chapter the previous week due to some IRL stuff. I also felt a bit uninspired, so that sucked. Anyway, I feel like I'm getting a bit better at writing longer chapters. I also realized that I really enjoy describing the characters' interactions with their "pets". I think it shows their kinder side of personality well. Speaking of the pets, I couldn't find any info about Gaius' boar gender, so I just decided to make it female lol. Finally, thank you all so much for the likes, comments, and reposts. I really appreciate your support, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter <3 Until next time :)

[tyran-the-tyranical]

Did-Bits About The Fic and Scrapped Content

OK, welcomeeee, i'm gonna start chapter by chapter, though not every chapter will have interesting things to say (Bridge over troubled water is the worst chapter in the whole fic, oops) also there will be a little confession at the end of this.

The Compromise

This was actually supposed to be two chapters before I went with the whole 2-3k words per chapter goal, lol. So, the whole "reeks of death" thing was mostly due to it literally having visages of death everywhere, like those sailboats with screaming souls? Epic. I briefly mentioned this in one of the notes, but the whole stone thing rejecting oneself, yea that was a parallel between Messmer and the Tarnished, ofc in different ways but the message is still the same. You'll notice throughout there'll be a lot of comparisons between the two, as I intended the two to mirror each other. Still, unlike Messmer, I have also briefly hinted at another person the Tarnished will mirror, but it is extremely subtle, like one throw-away line brief. It won't materialize until Act 2, speaking of, I only have 2 acts in mind but if Act 2 keeps building up it may be 3 but no promises.

I'm looking back over the chapter as I write this since it's been a while but that raven sure came out of nowhere, but he has a purpose, as he kinda mirrors or symbolizes both the Tarnished and Messmer, mostly Messmer. I like to think Messmer sees her as a deliverer of death, an angel of death if you will, which ravens are associated with, but also the raven for the most part, he's trapped slowly dying with his bird friends all around him, and she believes he's just inclined to die, but he still fights back, deep down he still wants to live, and when she gives Messmer that choice, even though he's severely reluctant to it, some part of himself still wants to live, just like the raven.

OK, one of my favorite little bits is when she returns and she's like so this is where you choose to rot, and he looks to his mother's statue because, for a brief moment, he thinks it's her, but when she says she needs him alive he realizes it's not Marika, SGBABAABAO angsty I know. But I demonstrate how he internalizes himself, he desperately wants his mother to love him but is more readily to accept her disgust of him than her wanting him to live, he's that worn down.

I really didn't want him to just readily accept her proposal either, initially, he doesn't, he out right refuses and doubles down until she comes back and he's almost forced into accepting it, it's the same with his hatred for the Hornsent, because even though he claims its for my mom I swear, I like to think he's taking out his own self-hatred onto them, most likely sub consciously though, and this whole path of getting him out of the keep isn't going to be easy, and it takes a long ass time for him even to accept the idea that he was abandoned later one because he blocks it out, doubles down but the truth is too painful to confront, but the Tarnished is the one pushing him to confront it, and I'll speak more abt that in the next chapter.

Lastly, the whole snake thing writhing within him at the perfect moment was deliberate (also plot but still) since I like to think that the serpent within him, the abyssal one, despises Marika, haha deep down he despises his mother, anyway, and when the Tarnished offers him away out of his confinement, his duty in the keep, it stirs it to life, pressuring Messmer to accept.

Discarded

This was a great chapter, as in setting things up. See in my prep work I wanted a reason why Rellana and the Tarnished are different and their approaches to Messmer, they both have ehhh somewhat virtuosic goals if not painted by ulterior motives. So I settled on this; Rellana is comforting and kind while the Tarnished forces Messmer to confront uncomfortable truths and is entirely indifferent and cold to him. I think Rellana had good intentions but inevitably left him complacent in his own whatever, but also it's not her job to tell him murder is bad, tbh she joined him so I doubt she cared too much lol.

OKok, so the candle, the candle is important gamers, it represents the last flickering hope her has for his mother, and by the last chapter (spoilers) he realizes it burnt out a long time ago, and with that, his hope was gone a long time ago. Another point of symbolism is Rellanas helm, this will actually have a parallel in act 2 but that's hush hush for now. Anyway, it's like he's carrying that guilt of his comrades with him, he still burdens himself and wants to carry their memory, but it's also an act of punishing himself, he even says he doesn't like looking at it later on, the memories are tainted now and are too painful.

Funnily enough the whole reason I made the fic is bc I'm picky and I wasn't finding the fic I wanted to read so I made it, that means that Messmer and the Tarnished actually fucking hate each other, like they don't just accept what the other says, he calls her out for shit and vice versa, they're not pushovers or ready to warm up to each other, (spoilers) even by the last chapter they still fucking hate each other lol. The enemy part in enemies to lovers I'm afraid.

So, the dead fire knight was hinting towards Hornsent later on, it took longer than I expected but, he was the one to kill (I think its Salza?) at the bridge. Speaking of the bridge, I kinda realized I never gave a good description of the Tarnished, but I supposed she is unnamed and is basically a blank slate I do have more planned for her in Act 2, see an issue I came across was I had to compensate for her since you don't know anything about her, and tbh still doesn't lol. Anyway, I used them describing their initial impressions of each other as a good segway to include a brief description of her.

A Pink Sky

First things first- I accidentally sent them the wrong way, the hippo? yea, that was a mistake that I just rolled with. (it was not the only time I did this) Also, the Betrayal is completely non-canon, except that I think there are actually some banished knights dead behind the keep, otherwise, I made it the F-up senator. Also this is the first instance of Messmer kinda being reckless, initially before their talk in the next chapter I kinda wanted him to come across as reckless because deep down he kinda already subconsciously wanted to die, he wanted a release and he knew he wasn't going to leave the realm of shadow and he couldn't disobey his mother and kill himself.

Secondly, the pink sky title was supposed to foreshadow Romina but that took awhile also to get to, anyway, it was there.

Funnily enough, this is also the first chapter I think where he's reconsidering their alliance and wants to just kill her, like I said, bro doesn't change his mind easily, he's still fixed on killing that tarnished. Also the first mention of Radahn by Messmer, lol. This si also where they clash for the first time since the fight, arguing about resting and all, so silly. Finally, this is also where she notices the Marika seal in his eye, and originally she was going to bring this up later in an argument, telling him he had secrets too or something, whatever it was scrapped.

also these quotes:

"The forgotten sun now began setting upon the land, leaving an empty sky, bathing the world in its feverish hues"

The forgotten SON, FEVERISH HUES, yea yea its literally does nothing but I thought it was cool.

"He made his way to join the graceless figure and her soon-to-be pyre."

Ngl I cooked with this line.

One more thing, so in the betrayal flashback he mentions how Rellana would touch his shoulder and comfort him, and then the Tarnished wakes him up in the same fashion- CINEMA, also this comes back later in the last chapter, so keep that in mind.

Azadi

Azadi is a brand of yellow pomegranate if I remember correctly, that's the only reason it's called Azadi other than the fact it means liberty and freedom in Persian lol. Anyway, this chapter had two big jobs to fulfill, change Messmers mind about killing her, and break the ice between the two.

Also, yess the pomegranate has meaning, literally everything in this goddamn fic does. oh, woe is I. See it was also supposed to be a choice for Messmer, live or die, cause they represent a few things but they can symbolize life and death, and blood etc, and the yellow is the whole liberty and freedom, he can choose that if he just makes the decision for himself, and luckily he just holds off on that answer instead of outright rejecting it.

I absolutely love how petty they are with each other in this chapter, they wear their feelings pretty plainly on their leave. Yet I also like how she pulls him up on his shit, when he wasn't prepared to fight or stood to the sidelines, how he's calling him out on his own death wish, and here it is again, he's rejecting the truth, and doubles down, in sort of a show to prove to himself that he doesn't want to die, how could he? She also brings back his serpents, I wanted them to be their own characters even if they serve such a minimal role in the story, especially since they don't really speak, they're more of silent companions if anything.

originally she was really going to call out his death wish, say she'd fulfill it if she helped her with Miquella but it scrapped it, or rather remixed parts of it in, it was too much so early in so I left it as a suggestion or implication than an offer.

Actually backtracking to his whole being distant in the hippo fight, I had a scrapped idea that still kinda made its way in, which is that he's very hands-off in fights, as in he does it from a distance instead of getting down and dirty with, I think she even calls him out to herself later too, but its to demonstrate his detachment from his actions, he physically separates himself from the act, a mental block if you will, so he can do these terrible things while also protecting his own mind from everything he's doing. Like I said it never truly made its way in, its only vaguely alluded to.

The ending is so telling too, i do have a problem with too much telling instead of showing but her holding the dagger to her chest cause not even she herself trusts him yet is so epic poggers yippee.

Flames of Ambition 

This is the chapter I had to scrap over 1k words on, originally it was all about her and Alexander's relationship but that didn't really matter since she hasn't made it to Farum Azula so Alexander is still alive, but I did keep a remnant of the scrapped chapter in. This also proposes an idea for why she's doing this, that she's just avoiding having to kill Melina, though that isn't the only reason, but was the catalyst for her heading to the lands of shadow at the very least, a lot of her actions aren't just caused by one thing, its more of a domino effect, and we'll see that later on and more in act 2 too. (also the line about Melina being consumed by her own flames of ambitions, muah, cinema)

Next off, the scene with the cursed blade was maybe a little too silly, but it reinforces her reason to kill again since she's just trying to spare Messmer, to see if she can do it, that once she picked him, she had to follow through less her whole EXPERIMENT be for nothing. Also for the next few chapters, its really me just building up a psuedo report between them, silently acknowledging the other and saving them, its reluctant but still shows teamwork.

O Mother 

I wonder how many ppl i tricked with this title, thinking its was something to do with Messmer? nahhh, funnily enough Hornsent says the same line in his dialogue, and like I said previously, I do think Messmer wants to hate the hornsent because it's like a scapegoat for himself, he's a hypocrite, hornsent, even so, says in his dialogue that you let him kill Messmer with you in-game. This chapter also propagates Messmers need for his mother's approval, that he believes he can earn back his mother's love if he aids the Tarnished in killing Miquella.

Can I just say, writing for the Ruins of Rauh was a pain in the ASS, this thing is a maze, I literally needed a map up for it and TWO walkthroughs the understand the layout and I still made mistakes lol.

Also, originally when Hornsent confronts her, I had him say Nay! but I changed the to Níl since all the inhabitants of the realm of shadows have Irish accents, and I'm Irish so slay gaeilge all day babezzz. This also is the first instance where you're kinda like oh yea fuck, Messmer did a lot of fucked up shit, the confrontation with Hornsent and later Romina, they're the worst of what he'll have to confront and they're rlly important even if they haven't had a huge impact yet, they will trust. Finally, this is also the first point where she shows a real act of vulnerability, its when she's faced with the death of someone she considers an ally, even if it wasn't reciprocated. this is a big theme for her and will be even more evident in act 2.

Bridge Over Troubled Water 

The only good thing about this chapter is its name and ITS WASTED ON SUCH A MID CHAPTER AFKAFN, I picked the title as a sorta ode to Hornsent, if he was talking with his wife and all. The intro is from Messmers pov and bro calls him a cur, so that just shows how little respect he has for the hornsent, which also extends to the Tarnished. Anyway the chapter probably would've been cool visually but its kinda mid, it just demonstrates how destructive Messmer can be and yeaa, that's about it.

Lightless Creatures 

Its feigned concern, don't worry, he needs her alive to get home and that's it guys. So in this chapter its him kinda being manipulative, being all nice and eating the fruit as a sign of trust, its just to get information but like he said before he rlly cant contain his emotions well, and he breaks character at the reveal of Marika in the erdtree. So the bird thing was planned before hand, the burnt tree and the raven, but the whole one for a sorrow two for yknow, that was a last minute idea so idk if it comes across as silly or what, but its there. It builds up tension, or rather its starts an idea, leaves it and then later there's the pay off.

Can I just say, it is a CRIME that Rellana and Romina got NO dialogue, NO cutscene, NOTHING, and the scraps they did have were well SCRAPPED?! criminal. Anyway, this is one of the first catalysts that sends the Tarnished into an existential crisis, like hse's had those thoughts before but they've just been amplified slowly over time and this is what teeters her over the edge. In act 2, there will be a scene that mirrors the Tarnished and will help explain why she also had such a big reaction to killing Rellana, besides being friends with Ranni and killing her aunt, oops. Anyway, I already said the thing about the raven so next chapter.

Pursuit of Misery 

That song unintentionally fit so perfectly with the lore of elden ring mannnn, anyway, this starts of with more examples of Messmer spiralling, he's rlly starting to question things now after he's gained that information and he reveals a lot of backstory and weight on why he does what he does. He feels he's burden, that he's the stain upon Marikas legacy, not the Tarnished or Hornsent, but him. See I have it planned that he values himself in comparison to his mothers approval, and if she says somethings got to go, its gotta go. I didn't write her telling him about the truth of the hornsent as her grooming him into killing them in the future or some manipulation, though I'm certain she used that in the end. just that it wasn't her original intention, that they had a rlly deep bond early on, that she made the seals for him even if she eventually gave up, she toiled over her son until she just couldn't do it anymore, to be met with failure over and over.

Anyway, him and the Tarnished reconcile, they make a promise to be besties or whatever, and more lore is revealed. I decided that he doesn't know about Mohg and Morgott, and that the Tarnished was basically nearing end game when she dipped. Another little thing I am toiling over is yet to be decided but will depend on this chapter, ye have been warned.

The Divine Comedy 

Divine beast = Divine comedy, haha

His snakes coil around him in his sleep, brooooo, cute. anyway, the dream is first introduced here, but ill talk about it when we get to it. Anyway, this is the second instance of me sending them the wrong way, but I had already written so much and I decided to use it as a bonding chapter, have them fight in unison. At the end she says he's enough, she referring to her goal of sparing one of her foes, if she manages to keep him alive instead of killing him, that would be enough.

Les Fleurs du mal 

Its named after a poem, thats also used in an anime called aka no hana, the evil flowers. Anyway, to the dream sequence. The hands reaching out is his guilt, straight up, like I've said this isn't some big redemption story but I don't want to shy away from any feelings he might have and the consequences of his choices. It also builds up his relationships more, even if briefly. The abyss you say? ohhh to the abyss you say? ohhhh lol it was just referencing the abyssal serpent.

Pride is another downfall of the Tarnished, I wanted her to have a lot of flaws, to be imperfect similar to the characters in the game. She has killed her fair share of people, some who probably didn't even deserve it. Also, Yura is mentioned again here, he will be very important. I think the Tarnished and Messmer are both very prideful but shes gotten to a point in her journey where she can confront it, maybe not entirely successfully but its a start, and so is Messmer joining the Tarnished, its a start if anything.

ROMINA MY BELOVED, god I love her, slay gurlll. Anyway, she's the biggest road block in Messmers doubling down, since arguably she was just collateral in his crusade, and so were the people in the church, no one would be spared after all.

Look at what you've created! I am the shadow of your misdeeds, of your flame, for you are that sorrow, not I."   this line cooks until the last part, I think I tried to cram too much in, but ehh.

This is also the chapter where the Tarnished confronts him head on, she really doesn't like him, but notice that never once until this point has she called him a monster, its only in regards to his actions does she finally do it. ( I was also panicking abt pronouns and if you knew what she I meant so romina uses they them now)

This is also when she reveals Radahn is back bby. It hits more since he was closer with Radahn than any of his others siblings, and you'll see that later on with Godwyn. At this point I think he just wants things to go back to their complacency, to rot in the keep, he doesn't want to confront these truths any longer and just abandons the Tarnished to fight them alone. Origianlly for the fic, I had them touring through the rest of the lands but timeline wise that didn't work out, but I think its for the best, since Rauh is still a bastion of what was, its full of life that's been taken from the rest of the land.

Your Sword, Your Flesh, Your Fire... 

The title is actually just a quote from Yura lol, but this is rlly important gamers. she looks very different from how she looked back after she defeated Godrick, this is also important and will come up in act 2. But for Yura, I'm just going to reveal it now, I'm setting up a kinda father-daughter vibe, obviously not literally but vibey. She was very different back in those early days, not nearly as jaded as she is now, still prideful tho if anything. So actually after the Gauis fight I was going t have the chapter where she goes to the shaman village bc (spoilers) that's the place she actually decides to spare her next foe, spare Messmer. All those little moments were leading there.

Prince Of Eternal Slumber 

or how it was originally titled; Prince of Death. The Godwyn flashbacks were actually a spur-of-the-moment thing, and originally they were supposed to serve as a parallel to the Tarnished, Messmer would've compared how annoying they were but it felt weird since they were going to end up in a relationship and he compared her to his brother, and it ended up way better with Thiollier, as she parallels Messmer already and she didn't end things with Thiollier on a good note either. Also, I'm aware Godwyn was in the capitol when the dragons attacked but let's just presume he had already made it back by then.

I really don't know why i didn't put what I originally planned in this chapter when I first posted it, I just thought having him spare Thiollier was irrelevant but like NO?! anyway its fixed now.

Once More To See You 

This one hurt to write, the title and the flashback, UH, it was too much. Anyway, its even worse now that she confuses Ansbach for him and then the last chapter happens. This chapter finally starts their interactions before the big show down and an important thing I want to call out, as the Tarnished ascends the towers shes constantly looking up, noticing the grandeur, while when Messmer climbs he's constantly looking down, taking in the past and his own destruction.

When Doubt comes, When Doubt Comes in 

Obligatory hadestown reference here. Also the raven as of now, makes his final return, I felt it fitting to have him with ansbach considering their design and all, its sweet.

Now I'm Ready, I'm Ready Now 

Daniel Hart reference? in my fic? its more likely than you'd think. I had another Godwyn flashback bc I rlly wanted to expand more on Messmer, forget the whole mommy issues, he had more to show with his other relationships and I started that with Godwyn. He didn't join his side as he didn't join his comrades sides when the Tarnished came. There's a lot to say about the Godwyn flashbacks, so much actually, but its 4am rn and I'm speeding through these now.

The imagery of leda with reddened eyes is sick tho.

Age Of Compassion 

weeeee, ok, Miquella flashback? yes. also he's in the same spot Messmer was in in the first Godwyn flashback, circular narrative am I right guys? so I actually had a lot of this chapter already planned before I even started writing, but mostly the end conversation between her and Messmer.

Miquella totally tries to try and manipulate Messmer btw, but similar to the Tarnished, he doesn't necessarily lie, and no he didn't reveal she killed the demi gods, she just thinks that, but he says something more hurtful but that he could believe was true, etc. anyway, he's finally broken down, his bestie Radahn is nerfed, his mother doesn't love him or so he thinks, his siblings are all dead, and so his he cant try and hide his feelings, or double down, he just wants oblivion, if you notice Miquella says consign you woes to oblivian and then he says he wants to consign himself, he is his own woe. angst.

so the candle going out from the first chapter is brought back here, he grasps at the sand demonstrating the loss of control he's feeling, and the two helmets is him kinda turning a new leaf but not exactly, he's more or less leaving that part of himself with Rellana there.

And finally, I was playing with the idea of her slapping him and everything but I left it out, just another scrapped idea that I should mention lol.

Ok, I'm just gonna come clean right now, I have never played the DLC, not once. base game? sure, but I actually got the game bc of the DLC but I haven't even bought it lol, that's why I kept fucking up the locations and getting them lost.

bonus, heres a glimpse of my onenote notes:, you'll notice some variations or cut things, but this is a tiny snippet of the mess of my notes lol. (broken english? yes)

Edit:

ok so I have some more scrapped content here that I'll show off, but tbh I might use some of it in act 2, its not super spoiler heavy, just scrapped dialogue or ideas, but just a warning before hand;

"Yes, let that be their legacy; Dying for nothing"  in reference to Messmer's comrades, this would've been after the Romina fight, and so would this quote here In reference to sparing Mesmer “And what do I have to show for it? You?” very enemies coded.

Next off, here's is a scrapped scene, like a real one this time;

Eventually on their mission, he'll bring up what he's done and she'll dismiss it; not because she's trying to comfort him, she simply says it's irrelevant to their mission. He'll try to press it further, assuming she's unaware of his actions or the extent of them but she'll immediately shut him down- It's hard to be ignorant to it within a place that's permanently scarred by it, she won't coddle him, they both know of his atrocities and him reminding her won't suddenly change her mind on sparing him. He might question this, why she wouldn't enact revenge and she'll state that there's no benefit from continuing that cycle of violence. She might bring up him expiating his guilt or sins and him stating he feels no regret, that he has no guilt (he is lying to himself, still holding onto his mother's graces.) Tarnished might scrutinize this but will leave it there, then there's nothing more to be said. 

There's nothing inherently wrong with this but like I said I wanted the Tarnished to really push him, so her dismissing his actions even if for the moment, felt too much like Rellana so I scrapped it.

another thing I want to bring up it this;

Her sparing him was just as much a selfish decision as he was for continuing his crusade even through his doubts or if he even believed in his actions. She might confide that sparing him is as much for her own need to believe in something beyond violence as it is for him.

This was an idea for a scene but it never really made it out of the idea phase, the second part is silly but the first part, that she's being selfish in letting him live, I really like it. Because it is kinda true after all, he wants to just die with his men, and end his suffering and all she's doing is prolonging it for her own goals, now I wouldn't go as far as comparing it to his crusade but they're both to some extent selfish, because him wanting to die is kinda escaping the consequences of what he's done.

Finally, during their last spat in the last chapter, she was originally going to say "I won't coddle this self-pity!"  and it would've been a call back to when Godwyn said something similar, but I didn't include it. Why? I forgorrr, legit. I had it in my dialogue tab and not my general idea tab and I just forgot to check. oops my bad. idk if I'll try wheeze its way back in there or leave it, but at least for now you know the truth.

[thewither129]

Elden Ring lore discussion:

Verdigris and the Sun

Shadow of the Erdtree introduces us to “verdigris,” a weighty metal with incredible defensive capabilities, said to be the gift of an outer god. But it may not be the first time we’ve seen it.

Verdigris is a greenish color with swirls and circular extrusions.

Our old fiery friend here also wields and wears swirls and circles on grayish green.

And once he opens that big ol eye on his chest…

…we see a big central circle, surrounded by eight little circles.

Look back at the verdigris discus.

So, is the Fell God of Fire the bestower of verdigris?

Actually, i dont think so. I actually highly doubt it.

Verdigris actually isnt the metal itself. Verdigris actually apparently attributes its strength to its “rusted nature.” (See “Verdigris Armor”)

Verdigris is whats called a patina. Its a sort of film that forms on copper and bronze as a result of chemical treatment or oxidization. Its name comes from “vert de Grece,” meaning “green of Greece.”

So it isnt actually a rust, either. Rust and patinas are similar though. Rust is a damaging oxidization, but patina is actually a protective oxidization.

This can be compared to another outer god.

A god whose power can be destructive, or protective.

Scarlet Rot is usually seen as a deadly curse that eats at all in its path, like rust eats and destroys iron.

But it is a force of rebirth, a decay that brings new life, like the protective patina that coats copper.

Romina’s church was burnt to the ground by Messmer’s flame, but she found a divine element that became scarlet rot. It brought life back to the church, and would protect it. (See Romina’s remembrance)

So what does this tell us about verdigris?

Well, it may well have been a gift from the god of rot.

But why?

Well, scarlet rot was to protect Romina and her home, so maybe it was to protect the fire giants?

As the discus says, “great weight makes for great strength. The strength to protect others.”

But to protect them from what?

Perhaps a mischievous and wicked god?

The furnace visage is said to depict the fell god of flame. “Fell” means wicked or sinister. This god is said to haunt the stories of the hornsent. (See furnace visage)

But, that’s not the fell god?

THIS is, isnt it?

Maybe they both are.

Lets look at that eye and discus again. Big central circle surrounded by eight more.

Is that a little, familiar?

The large circle, is the Sun.

The Sun is said to have once been worshipped by a great kingdom, but this “Seat of the Sun” is long gone, shrouded by obscurity, with only one mention of this name. (See Sun Realm shield.)

The Flame of the Fell God is said to be inhabited by a fell god. It also looks an awful lot like the moon spells, and an awful lot like the sun. But the moons arent called gods. They dont really do much and dont seem to be inhabited by any gods.

Maybe the sun was the same? A neutral celestial entity that bestowed power upon those who sought it.

However, the fell god of fire, who had long tormented the hornsent, may have met his match when an up and coming empyrean ascending to godhood stepped in.

Marika defeated the god, or so it had seemed. (See One-Eyed shield.)

But he wouldnt give up that easily. He fled, sought new power, and saw the Sun. A great flame of immense power. He made it his, and through it he placed himself upon its followers, the giants.

He took the giants to the mountaintops where their forge would be the catalyst for his flame.

This mighty flame would be capable of scorching away even spirits (see Hefty Furnace pot,) and he could use this newfound power to exact revenge.

He could use it to burn the erdtree to the ground, and all it would take is a sacrifice. Much like the sacrifice the giant makes to awaken the god within him, only something more potent would be required.

The fire giants did not want this, they were smiths and builders. But when they came, they were natural enemies of the icy natives. The dragons and the zamor, foremost.

But a group of scholars also presided there, to be close to the stars. The astrologers were fast friends with the giants, and a sword was made to commemorate their bond. (See Sword of Night and Flame.)

That treasure went with them as the departed the mountaintops, but the giants could not come with. They had to tend to the flame.

As we know however, Marika caught wind of the power of this flame, and had the fire giants massacred. She would not allow her tree to burn. The last giant was cursed to guard the flame, but little did Marika know he was already cursed, for when the fell god took hold, they were taken from their homes and lost everything. I believe it was their enslavement by the fell god that got the god of rot’s attention.

It gifted their mighty orange metal with a gentle decay, a decay that came to be the protective patina that is verdigris. The weight of the verdigris and their own immense weight would empower them, to protect each other. (See verdigris discus.)

Sadly, it was not enough, but in death they were released, and will serve the fell god no longer.

The slippery fiend got away, his influence remains among the monks who were once tasked with his suppression, but now devote themselves to him, but the descendants of the giants, the trolls, were able to escape the fate of their ancestors, and many were even welcomed by the descendants of the astrologers, made Carian Knights.

And that, to me, is the tale of the Fire Giants. The tragic downfall of the mysterious Sun Realm, and the lost history of the sun, whose light only shines now on the ancient land of Rauh.

[katyspersonal]

i know it's very likely that Messmer is the child of MarikaRadadon (boring) i still headcanon him as a virgin birth child aka like Jesus/Mary/God but this time it is Messmer/Marika/Fell god

This is a great idea! Personally I am not so quick to throw away the idea that he might actually be simply a child of Marika and Godfrey instead: red hair of their child still works, since Rykard for one is blonde despite being a child of Radagon:

Marika'sRadagon's genes are an enigma XD And don't forget how Messmer's soldiers use his trademark stomps and moves, and an icon of Godfrey is found in Shadow's Keep! Though how @val-of-the-north ALSO (correctly) pointed out: Messmer can't be a selfcest child of Marika and Radagon because he doesn't have the child-bearing hips......

Godfrey and I ASSUME Fell Good are both assless so it is all fair enough fdhfdhssfdh In either case I think Messmer is a firstborn, and large part of it is my idea on why he is carrying Base Serpent inside! I'll share a post from earlier today that did touch this topic ( x ) but in short: Lightless Abyss IS the hole at the center of Greater Will itself and inability to reign/live forever seems to be hard-coded into any order it helps creating, so Messmer is a natural promise of everything eventually burning. Especially the Erdtree.

At the same time, Radagon's red hair is the result of curse of Fire Giants, and we can see some effects going to the children (most blunt examples are Omen Twins when Fell God apparently was connected with Crucible and Radahn growing into gigantic size).

But I also agree that Messmer's Flame and Flame of Ruin are very similar, and Messmer being some sort of extension of the Fell God like you suggested would explain many things!

^ It says eye (singular), and Fell God is infamous for single eye thing, so like! Was he born with just one eye already? Also his Base Serpent is held in check by Winged Serpent who has dragonic wings, when Fire Giants were enemies with the drakes 🤔 The Furnace Golems Messmer uses also have visage of the Fell God (apparently earlier version or a misinterpretation as it has two eyes?) and masks of heads of Fire Giants on them! Presumably to scare Hornsent as they are already afraid of the Fell God, but also these kinds of 'wickered men' are used to burn people trapped in them as sacrifices, and we all remember how the last Fire Giant was able to awaken presence of the Fell God in himself by burning his broken leg so who knows for sure, really!

^ A possible support for your idea is also how Godfrey's Duelists design features both symbol of the giants and snakes! If they culturally appropriated after the war with the giants, what snakes had to do with it, then? 🤔

[abyssal-maiden]

Serpent's Hearth Pt. 2: Bereft of Favor (18+)

Fem!Reader / Messmer

!!!MDNI!!!: 18+ ((future xbloodplayx xsmutx xpregnancyx xothersinsx))

XTouchStarvationxLightYanderexEnemiestoLoversxSizeDifferencex

Hey all! Bonus chapter tonight for contextual meat. The real fun begins tomorrow ;)! Please enjoy this pregame as I prepare your feast.

~~~<3

The scorned son sits in his darkened chamber as the movement of his serpent kin interupt his dissociative state. He was lost in yet another daydream reliving his childhood. His mother once ordered him to end his incessant whining, oh how the serpents coiled in his nascent ribs! She shoved a golden flask in his hands spiting vile as she did so.

“Avaunt from thine visage, knave mongral! Cease thine vex of thy presence known.”

He turned the flask over in his left hand, something between longing and abhorring twisted along the slithering within him. He holds his forehead in his palm, covers the tears that evaporate just outside of his eye duct. A lord who's curse would not allow the sanctity of expressing such desperation. A monster imprisoned in the flesh of a tool for an unforgiving order.

Even thine own mother detest me!

His lip pulls in the dark, trembling with self loathing. He was holding on to the hope she would whisk through the door any minute to accept him at last, but such thoughts were akin to the delusion of frenzy. He knew she would not come, yet felt the stinging of languish in the still air of his forgotten keep. The quivering ceases for a moment, he was sure you would return despite his solitude. The thought of your darkened eyes and your flowing hair, the disconnected look of violence encapsulating your gaze.

Why doth mine mind's eye plague with such visions?

A forked tongue brushes against his brow, he uncovers his golden gaze to the green stare of his larger constrictor. The soft flickering and bobbing of its head indicate concern. He cups his face, running his hand down and sighing.

“Tis not a worthy concern, Purkoy.”

The serpent sways in disapproval but presses no further, facing away in its own trance of disconnection. Miel, the other, sleeps on the opposing armrest to the one Messmer drapes over.

“Thy verdict is ill favored, cur.” He chuckles.

The man reminiscent of a phantom stands, moving silently from his perch through the darkened staircase adjacent his throne room. In the entrance hallway he waves his hand across the brick, the flame burning away the illusion that conceals his bedchambers entrance. The rhythmic sound of his ascension coupled with soft hissing occasionally. His body stoops and shifts as he works his way to the once extravagant garret in the rear tower of his throne house. The room is unkempt, surely, but opulent, a large circular bed across from a grandiose stone hearth. Above it a painting faded by age, the young Messmer standing shyly in front of his mother, a gaze of disinterest displayed on her face. He glances at her everwatching eyes as he moves to stand in the window, overlooking the path to the ruins of Enir-Ilim, his final charge. He looks tiredly into the ravine before settling in a warn armchair that had cracked severely over the decades. There he spent most sleepless nights, staring off into the void of his existence , reliving old memories.

~~~

Fate would have it your presence was not so unwelcomed the next morning. You enter as you always have, materializing at the unseen grace and pushing the door open. He stands and says nothing, spear poised in his grasp. He leaps to the ground and strides towards you, stopping to stand upon his crest in the center of the desolate hovel.

Why isn’t he attacking?

Your eyes narrow through your helm, usually trained on his hand movements. You peer upwards to find his eye boring into your own pair. His expression unsurprisingly reserved, yet a hint of uncertainty as his eye darts to different details in your armor.

Why is he looking at me like that?

No matter, you huff and lunge toward him, the clang of his spear indicates he accepts the flurry. That recognizable heat which licks at you through the joints in your armor. As you engage you swear a faint smile appears on his face.

Is he…enjoying this?

You try to shake off the thought as a swirling of flames barrel’s toward you. His limbs could reach you across the room, and they do, giving little time for you to roll away. Your blows never seem to slow him down, but today he is clumsy. His head keeps ducking to view your eyes through the slitted metal face. The way the reptilian orb peers at you sends shivers through you.

What the fuck is he doing?

The distraction is enough for him to grasp you in flames tossing you like a rag to fall flat into his spear. You slide down onto the cold blackened metal gurgling and moaning in agony. His breath is hot and brief on your ear. A silken tone laced with the menace of authority.

“Below mine domain lies a ruined place forgotten by all but mine pets. An audience with thee at high moon.”

You're unable to respond before you experience the flames ripping through your core with ferocity, burning you to embers as you hang from his fiery impalement.

“...Fuck…you...” your words rasp gently against his ear canal as you dissipate.

He savors the insult and laughs to himself as he’s left alone, pinching his brow as his head falls back.

“What manner of folly doth I wrought upon mine self?”

Master List

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[flameimpaler]

The boy prince, the boy lordling, Miquella. No matter how many centuries passed, such was how Messmer saw him: a child. Such was how everyone saw him — his curse.

"Mother..."

Messmer looked up to the statue of Marika in the room, which was dimly lit by candlelight. Its shadows swayed with the flickering flames. One word, and one word only came into his mind as to how she had been since he'd memory.

He thought of those abominations in the lower levels of the keep, those amalgamations of shamans and people all stuffed into jars, and taken to that infirmary to be healed. But there was no healing from such heinous acts — no medicine nor magic nor even miracle could ever hope to cure such a grisly fate. Perhaps even more horrifying was the banality this evil now took to Messmer after so long trying. He recalled how their shrieks of agony used to leave him shuddering and sleepless for days, their contorted visages haunting his uneasy dreams. No longer.

"... Mother... all that she willed was her ascension. To us, then... to us, she was cold. And yet her heart burned with a fire greater than mine: the fires of vengeance, of revenge, dear Miquella. I fear thou couldst never understand."

@flameimpaler / continued from here

his polite, ever - present smile is noticeably absent, though he remains civil. " brother, " miquella says, seated on the left of the dark chamber. " i have heard rumours of our mother's deeds in shadow - and your role. "

revealing his plan of ascension would be foolish, but he must make progress somehow; obtaining knowledge of his mother's path to godhood is essential when he is otherwise uninformed. he hopes to stay vague while speaking to messmer - but he cannot ask marika directly, so his half - brother is his best option.

" what was mother like, when she still tread this realm? " he keeps his tone as level as possible, but one glance at the statue of the eternal in this room makes it clear that marika is a delicate subject. he only hopes he does not alarm his brother.

[reseau-actu]

Le monde a basculé il y a quarante ans entre Kaboul et Téhéran, entre l'un des derniers actes de la guerre froide et l'apparition d'un islamisme conquérant. Patron du renseignement extérieur entre 1970 et 1981, Alexandre de Marenches vécut en première ligne l'expansionnisme soviétique et l'émergence de l'islamisme. Nous avons rencontré l'historien, écrivain et documentariste Jean-Christophe Notin, qui a publié sa biographie, Le Maître du secret, aux éditions Taillandier.

LE FIGARO. - Dans les années 1970, bien avant la «guerre contre le terrorisme» islamiste ou le débat sur un FBI européen, Alexandre de Marenches plaidait pour une coopération internationale et européenne renforcée…

Jean-Christophe NOTIN. - Quand il prend la direction du Sdece en 1970, il est conscient qu'il s'agit d'un «petit» service impliqué dans un conflit est-ouest qui le dépasse très largement. Il faut souligner que le Sdece n'a pas à l'époque la réputation, le sérieux, la notoriété de la DGSE d'aujourd'hui. Dans la guerre froide, Marenches pense que la France doit s'occuper du «secteur du front» africain francophone. Mais elle a besoin de ses alliés. En matière d'interception par exemple, le Sdece est très en retard. Par ailleurs, Marenches est très européen, il parle d'une Europe du renseignement, il a même une expression quasi équivalente à ce «FBI européen» dont on parle aujourd'hui. C'est irréaliste, mais il en parle déjà.

Il a su aussi user du prestige de la France en créant notamment un «Safari Club», véritable alliance avec les services de renseignement iranien, égyptien, saoudien et marocain…

De Gaulle a placé la France à une hauteur très largement supérieure à la réalité. Marenches, qui n'est pas du tout gaulliste, hérite de cette image-là. Le «Safari Club» est bien un club de chefs de renseignement qui, sur des sujets donnés, mettent en commun leurs idées. La lecture du monde de Marenches est celle de son époque: l'idée est que, pour arrêter les Soviétiques, le rempart islamique est un bon outil.

Il fait également le pari de l'action clandestine…

Il relance en fait la clandestinité et ce fut son grand projet. On imagine toujours les agents de la DGSE, du Sdece, comme des clandestins, qui travaillent à l'étranger sous couverture. C'est bien ce qui se fait aujourd'hui mais ce n'était quasiment plus le cas en 1970 quand Marenches prend le Sdece. Le service ne travaillait quasiment plus sous identité fictive. Dans les années soixante, Pierre Messmer, ministre des Armées du général de Gaulle, lui avait demandé de réfléchir à l'évolution du renseignement extérieur. Alexandre de Marenches avait rencontré des agents du Sdece de l'époque. Et ces derniers lui avaient conseillé de relancer la clandestinité. Cette relance, qui est pleinement opérationelle en 1974-1975, est encore bénéfique aujourd'hui. Les clandestins d'aujourd'hui doivent beaucoup à cette époque-là. Cela fait une partie de la réputation du service français.

« Pour Marenches tout est manipulé par l'URSS, y compris le terrorisme ou le conflit israélo-palestinien… »

Cinq ans après son départ du Sdece, Alexandre de Marenches déclare que le terrorisme touchera les côtes de l'Amérique…

Oui et il le dit en 1986 alors que personne n'y croit: le terrorisme va toucher les Américains. Il dit aussi que les terroristes vont utiliser des moyens qu'on n'a pas encore vus. Des moyens très simples, qui vont faire beaucoup plus mal. Dans ces années 1980, on parle de terrorisme étatique ou politique (ETA, Action directe…). Personne n'explique qu'un jour des groupes agiront de manière à peu près autonome en prenant une voiture et en fonçant dans la foule.

Il se trompe pourtant aussi très régulièrement comme sur la révolution iranienne de 1979…

Il ne réfléchit pas en terme religieux. L'analyste du Sdece en Iran explique que c'est une révolution sociale et religieuse guidée par le fondamentalisme chiite. Mais à Paris, Marenches est convaincu que c'est une manipulation de Moscou. Il explique à Valéry Giscard d'Estaing que Khomeiny n'a pas d'avenir. Pour sa défense, les Américains, les Occidentaux en général, pensaient la même chose. Seuls les Israéliens avaient une meilleure analyse.

» LIRE AUSSI - Histoires d'espions: les vies incroyables des agents de l'ombre

Le bilan de sa lutte contre le communisme est-il «globalement positif»?

Il a raison d'alerter sur l'expansion soviétique. Mais, à la différence de quelqu'un comme Henry Kissinger, il est convaincu que cette expansion est soigneusement planifiée. Kissinger estime lui que Moscou agit au jour le jour, en analysant mal les réactions que ses décisions vont susciter en Occident. Ce que prouvent les mémoires d'ex-responsables du KGB et de dirigeants soviétiques. Pour Marenches tout est manipulé par l'URSS, y compris le terrorisme ou le conflit israélo-palestinien…

« Pour faire rempart aux communistes, il décide de se servir des islamistes. »

Mais il y a eu aussi de réels résultats dans l'action du Sdece en Angola, en soutenant Jonas Savimbi, en Afghanistan en faveur de la résistance anticommuniste, ou encore au Tchad pour stopper les projets expansionnistes de Kadhafi. Sans oublier le soutien au Maroc d'Hassan II face au Front Polisario soutenu par Alger.

Comme beaucoup à l'époque, son obsession antisoviétique va pourtant le conduire à sous-estimer le danger islamiste…

Une erreur, il n'est pas le seul à la faire, dont nous vivons aujourd'hui les conséquences. Sous prétexte d'endiguer le communisme, Marenches ne voit pas la montée des nationalismes (vietnamien, palestinien, iranien) car tout cela est pour lui de la manipulation soviétique. Mais surtout, pour faire rempart aux communistes, il décide de se servir des islamistes. L'erreur absolue. A la fin des années 70 et début des années 80, personne ne comprend que cela va nous revenir au visage comme un boomerang.

Il ne prévoit pas non plus la contagion idéologique des régimes fondamentalistes qu'il appelle à soutenir. En fait, il ne voit pas le fondamentalisme. Pour lui, il y a les chrétiens, les musulmans et les athées à Moscou. Il faut donc une alliance christiano-musulmane contre les athées. Pour le mystique de l'Histoire qu'il est, c'est le retour des grands équilibres, de l'alliance entre François 1er et Soliman le Magnifique. Or le fondamentalisme commence son ascension à cette époque-là, au coeur des pays du «Safari Club», comme en Egypte ou des personnages comme Ayman al-Zawahiri, qui va créer al-Qaida avec Oussama Ben Laden, gagnent de l'importance.

Votre livre révèle également que Marenches a créé sa propre légende…

Alexandre de Marenches était un espion qui s'ignorait. Il avait des amis partout, c'est d'ailleurs pour cela qu'il a réussi, il était très bien vu de partout. Il entretenait ainsi une relation très amicale avec Michel Rocard, qui venait le voir au Sdece, et avait de bonnes relations avec François Mitterrand. Il avait un sens fabuleux de la dialectique et de la relation, c'était un homme de réseaux, très ouvert sur les questions internationales. Il était fait pour le renseignement.

En fait, il s'est forgé une légende comme un espion. Il s'est fait plus grand qu'il n'était, ce qui s'est beaucoup fait après-guerre. Ce ne fut pas un grand résistant, un grand gaulliste, un grand combattant et un grand homme d'affaires. Ce qui n'enlève rien à son parcours: mineur en 1940, il s'est engagé volontaire. Il a quitté la France occupée pour l'Afrique du Nord, via l'Espagne. Il a brièvement combattu et a été blessé. Et enfin, il a fait des missions discrètes pour la France dans les années 50 et 60. Il a donc été un peu résistant, un peu combattant, un peu espion, un peu chef d'entreprise et un peu serviteur de l'Etat. Il aurait pu éviter de mentir mais il a décidé de complètement réécrire sa vie.