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40,509,732
|
Thee Elden Ring
|
['da3roi']
|
Explicit
|
F/M
|
Elden Ring (Video Game)
| null |
Torrent the Spirit Steed (Elden Ring)
| null |
English
|
2022-07-23
|
Completed
|
2022-07-23
| 1,919
|
1/1
| null | 1
| null | 463
|
['Kirango_Rouge']
|
[]
|
In from the wastes of time, the oblivious tarnished was pulled. Tossed again in the cruel world bare besides a few rags and a stick. Taking a few tentative steps the pitiful wretch was cut from where he stood and made into a corpse once more. Unlike the countless others who strode alongside a similar path he bore no anger or sorrow, his restlessness returned him to his body and forced him from his early grave. He would not yield so readily as the others before him.Five hours later he wore a mismatch of repossessed clothing minus a pair of pants, apparently the land between didn't carry his size. Wanderlust carried him from place to place till he happened upon a site of grace surrounded by messages. Curious, he peeked at them: "Hello Elden ringers, I'd like to strike an accord. All I need is your credit card number, its expiration date, and the three great runes on the back." and another, "O you don't have the right, o you don't have the right, by the way, you don't have the right, o you don't have the right.". With a sigh of resignation, he sat at the sight of grace and let his trouble leave him. He was soon bothered by some lady asking for him to accept her accord, reluctantly he accepted accord and her aid. Maidenless and bound within an agreement within the first few hours of his life, barely any different from his past life. Curious of her end of the bargain he pulled the whistle that cost him some semblance of his freedom, a blew into it.A shrill note cut through the air followed by the solidification of a figure, the bestial aspects catching his eyes. Torrent was a human equine mix, much like Blaidd the wolf human mix, standing taller than the tarnished. Unlike the typical horse from her head sprouted a pair of ram horns, her mane that of a dirty white. She wore a layer of chainmail over a set of tan underclothes, the tan stan standing out against her ebony fur. Unlike any of the abhorrent demihumans he'd encountered her beauty was reminiscent of a painted snowy half dragon."Born from the ichor of the cursed land itself, just another formed from the vacuum left by the tears of life...". The tarnish began to button mash through dialogue, better to leave it for vaati. Blah, blah, Elden ring, humanity, ember, ah there!"I seek a worthy champion, someone who will not go gracefully into shards. For you to ask for my aid is first to ask me for a challenge. Do acknowledge this tarnished?". A quick glance at the wiki and the tarnished hit yes."Good then let the assessment begin."An unplaceable choir rose, string instruments joining with low and somber tones, walls of fog coalescing. A health bar appeared, Torrent the spectral Steed. She stood and slowly approached unarmed. The lowly tarnished hurriedly set to prepping by downing his wondrous flask and summoning his spectral skeletal militiamen, the skele boys if you would. And then a glorious fight followed that was hard fought and tear jerking. The tarnished sat down and began to snack on some rowa berries as the skeleton plodded toward Torrent. The first reached her and lunged forward with its spear scrapping along her mail, and barely chipping the health bar. She responded in turn with a left hook and then a right hook followed by a suplex, sending the skeleton into reanimation with a sickening crunch. Before she could recover however the second skeleton was upon her, backstabbing her and sending her sprawling into the dirt. She stood up quickly and launch a flurry of retaliatory attacks, sending it scattering to the ground. And just as before she was backstabbed while her attention was elsewhere, the suplexed skeleton chattering in delight. It cycled for some time, she knock one of the skeletons down, but won't finish the kill during their reanimation and get punished while her focus was diverted. Her getting an occasional grab or heat move off kept the fight from getting too boring to spectate, right till she hit phase two. With any indication, she leaped into the air and leaped off of the air even higher, before slamming into the ground like an asylum demon/eld tree avatar. The impact made the tarnished's teeth ring and left the skeletons comedically flattened. Fire erupted from the cracks the slam created, smelting the skeletons while they were reanimating. The tarnished rolled from his gesture and locked on, the calm battle trance that followed the usual deadly dance brought out once more. He rolled once more into range, following it with a jump attack. Torrent reeled from the attack as her poise broke staggering her. Dutifully he followed through into a critical attack, slamming his mourning star into her twice more with all his force. Blood poured from her like a geyser, freezing as it left her; her health bar crumpling under the bleed and frost proc. The tarnished followed his blows with a taunting gesture, the golden order of totality (t pose). She pulled herself up to a crouch."Come closer so that I might embrace you and press my blessing upon you.". The tarnish took a step forward, confident of his easy victory, right up until the cutscene. Torrent shot up from her crouch, grabbing him by the neck and helpless lifting him into the air above her. "What a folly tarnished, hesitation in combat." She said, shaking her head in a mocking manner."Don't worry your heart tarnished I accept your service, I can't deny the ones who make me taste my own blood. But first, you must be punished with knowledge." She lowered the wretched tarnish to her eye level."Fear not tarnished for you are no longer maidenless." She said in a barely audible whisper. Embers of the yellow hued flame of frenzy gathered in her eyes, circling and growing like a storm front, mesmerizing as only a fast approaching death can be. She pulled him close, madding flames erupting from her eyes, the kindling too close for the fire to contain itself. The streams of flame washed over the tarnished's face, agony wrapping his as he felt himself melt away. His mind was overwhelmed, his memories fading at the fringes, the agony of undeath a distant haze compared to the meltdown. Then the pain faded, madness finding purchase like embers to kindling, agony renewed and reopened. Pain and agony replaced with a flood of unfamiliar thoughts and feeling seeping into him. He went limp as the cascade washed over him. The primal screams as his beloved are painfully pulled away; the confusing lack of direction, self cycling restlessness, the dark and guttural shame and pity of an unmarked and unloved self, the tender thoughtless togethers of unspoken shared moments, the dull ache of a dying love, the inescapable thoughts that you force yourself to not linger on, countless tiny nothings and mundanities build and connecting in unseen ways. There was a paradigmal shift in his mental paradoxes, excruciating screams as the mind reeled and struggled to compensate. Love, the first flame of frenzy.She took the lead and took to share the madding flame and its warmth with him, abond to which she shared with no other for some time. A strengthening, near blinding goal of what he has earned and to what he should strive began to swell within his chest. He barely felt the ground beneath his feet as she set him down."Ummmm, huh. Did I overdo it and scramble his eggs?".The tarnished shook his head and pulled her close. "Good. Do you wish for me to let you further taste the flame?". She said cooing into his ears. The tarnished looked to her face, his own frenzy wordlessly apparent.***The tarnished rose from his bath in some unnamed room of the hold, dried himself, and stepped into his meager room. Torrent lay in his bed draped within a silken white nightgown, the fabric following every subtle curve and clinging to every crevice; thick thighed, rippling, massive, built like a mountain, enough to swath/smother any man of desire, she beckoned him over."Come on tarnished no mimic veil here.". The tarnished slid into bed and set to traveling the land between. His hands slowly and warily explored the unfamiliar body, slowly moving up and pulling back, inching farther each time. His hand coming to rest upon her breasts, slowly circling and trying to take in every inch of her beauty. Wordless encouragement was eeked out through increasingly daring touch. Each caress turned to a grip as he'd let torrent get used to his touch and then pull away leaving her wanting for it. She nibbled on his ear and whispered gleefully."My Turn. So how does it taste?". She broke from his grasp and drew to loom over him. With a throw of her head her long white mane swept to behind her. It was more an eyeful than even the twisted hell of Caelid, nearly enough to worship. She tossed aside his towel. "No need of weapon grease tarnished, not when you have mother's mouth." Torrent began to plant kisses on his talisman pouch, increasingly working in her tongue. One of her hands gently tugged and guided his manhood. The beat of his heart in his ears, growing increasingly flush with arousal."My my my, you didn't tell me you had one of the legendary armaments. Why it might take all night to polish". A deeper blush found itself on the tarnished, the gentle build of tension in his loins. She gingerly went about stroking his manhood, slowly teasing him. The tarnished's hands gripped as torrent went for a throat full, greedily enveloping him and planting her lips to the base, a murmur of assent escaping the tarnished. Her experienced tongue laid claim to all it could, sliding around his cock meat. She pulled back catching her breath. She quickly redoubled her efforts, her lips planted onto every inch of him, eliciting a small moan and making him curl his toes. The moans only emboldened Torrent, who pulled away once more. With a smile on her face, she sat to a squat and aligned herself with him. "Let's see if your all cock no cum boy." He elicited a small moan from her as his head passed the edge of her womanhood. Then without warning, she dropped onto him like a ground pound, a mix of pleasure and pain flaring through his body in an instant. She ravenously enveloped all she wrapped upon, grinding briefly each time she brought her ass down. Her fervor growing more beastlike. "Fuuhk.." Torrent grew wobbly in the knees as the tarnished began to thrust up each time she lowered herself, growing breathless. Each rush into the willing forge drew him and her closer, the slap of flesh on flesh as he plunged his spear forward once more. Each love drunk on each other, a slight tremble in each of their forms as their faltering rhythm came to a stop. The Tarnished coated her womb in a plethora of golden seed as his endurance faltered, anticipation draining by the drop. Torrent was soon to follow, with a whispered "git gud" her insides clamped down following a slight spasm. Torrent plopped to the bed, letting out a small sigh they pulled each other together into a cuddle.
|
41,687,616
|
Elden Ring Shorts
|
['Toramriel']
|
Explicit
|
Multi, Other, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
|
Elden Ring (Video Game)
|
Iron Fist Alexander & Tarnished (Elden Ring), Sorcerer Rogier & Tarnished (Elden Ring), D Hunter of the Dead/Tarnished (Elden Ring), Tarnished & White-Faced Varre (Elden Ring), Gideon Ofnir & Tarnished (Elden Ring), Mohg Lord of Blood/Tarnished (Elden Ring), Morgott the Omen King/Tarnished (Elden Ring), Starscourge Radahn/Tarnished (Elden Ring)
|
Iron Fist Alexander (Elden Ring), Tarnished (Elden Ring), Starscourge Radahn (Elden Ring)
|
One Shot, Shorts, collection, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fighting, just a whole array of random things
|
English
|
2022-09-13
|
Updated
|
2022-09-19
| 8,392
|
3/?
| 14
| 43
| 8
| 1,197
|
['GUCCIBANDITOS', 'Rapunzel092', 'Gaystream_Sam', 'Hex_GoodRandom', 'Palepious', 'PixelDragon', 'Magiste', 'TheMadWriter121', 'XoZombie_PandaoX', 'OwlDraugr', 'KaijuSushi', 'ByebyeAlie', 'idiotfromspace', 'KawwaiPotato', 'RinnZie', 'Pearl_Slug', 'Kitty_Zee', 'Yakina', 'R4v3n_Wy7ch', 'badwolfkaily', 'Rossthren']
|
[]
|
"Hello-o?"
A voice sprung from the dense mist blanketing the grassy cliffs of Liurnia. The drumming of hooves almost drowned the voice out, before reins pulled a mighty steed to a halt. Whinnying, the beast stomped but obliged, waiting as the rider on its back listened through the rustling leaves.
"Anybody there? Can you hear me? Help me, I'm stuck!"
A soft snort escaped the person mounting the steed, shaking their helmed head. Boots nudged the sides of the steed, starting into a comfortable trot as they rode through the trees in the shade of a tall Carian tower. Beyond the shadowed patch of trees was uneven terrain dotted with rocks poking through the grassy ground. Weaving the obstacles, a small decline came to view and from among the green foliage a large round pot stuck out like a sore thumb.
The pot's long rocky arms pushed and shoved the ground beside it, leaving long scrapes in the dirt, wet grass serving as no help in terms of friction. The large round body was dug tight in the ground, dirt raised around it like a snug crater.
"Hnnngh- ghuh..." A struggling sigh came from the large pot, hands sliding on the grass, pulling bundles of green blades between the fingers. "Humf... No use..." He grumbled.
Soft thudding of hooves approached from behind and the pot shifted, as much as it could at least, to show his attention to the approaching company. "Hello? Who goes there? Might you have the time to- Oh!" -he gave a hearty laugh- "My friend! How great it is to see a familiar friendly face!" The pot practically shuddered with glee as the warrior dismounted their spectral steed, boots hitting the moist grass heavy with the weight of their armor.
"Got yourself stuck again, Alexander?" They kid, earning a light-hearted sigh from the pot.
"How I'd like to say no, but alas, here I sit." The pot shrugged his arms before dropping them back to the dirt. "Lucky you came along, really. Mind helping me out, once again?"
Chuckling, the Tarnished warrior took out a club, thudding it onto the ground beside them, inspecting the pot on the ground while leaning on the end. "Let me see here... You're deeper in than last time... Your cracks are still fresh and I don't have the best feeling hitting you so soon, Alexander, are you sure you can handle it? I can try and find a leverage or-"
"No, no, my friend. I can take it! Just, give it your all and I'll be out of this in no time, hm?" The jar shook his hand dismissively, voice as determined as ever, body rumbling with the gruff laugh that emitted from within. "Don't you worry about me."
The Tarnished hummed hesitantly, but lifted the club. "You know your body better than I do... But let me know right away if you're going to break. I don't want to... you know..."
The jar gave a thumbs up at the Tarnished's words. "I understand, friend. I will let you know right away. I wouldn't want my warrior's journey to end too soon either! Hahahaha!"
Smiling, feeling slightly more comforted, the Tarnished raised the club on their shoulder, taking a wide stance. Standing behind the pot, they could see the large gnarly cracks that covered the pot's entire form. Swallowing the rising anxiety, they steeled their grip and took a wide swing right on the backside of the warrior jar.
"Agh!" The jar cried out, body groaning under the hefty clash of the club. The pieces cracked held together still, so the jar did not complain.
Another swing came and a dull soreness flashed over the entire jar, but he only groaned gruffly, still silently waiting for a release from the grounded prison. Hands tightly balled into fists, grass poked from between his fingers as he waited for the third swing.
Brows knitting with worry, the Tarnished looked over the jar's back, but it wasn't exactly leaking or falling apart. The jar assured this should be the last and the Tarnished nodded slowly even if to themselves. Readying the club, they swung with a warrior's might, club bashing against the back of the jar heavily once more.
A nasty crack came from the body and the jar groaned out, shaking his arms for the Tarnished to stop. "Ah! P-please! Wait." -he gulped- " I have a terrible feeling about this! Would you stop hitting me for a minute!" His entire body shuddered, cracks on his back crying out from the constant abuse.
Dropping the club, the Tarnished circled around to the front of Alexander, kneeling before the large jar. "I told you I didn't have a good feeling! A warrior trusts their gut and I should have trusted mine-" The Tarnished fussed, hands checking over Alexander to make sure the jar wasn't splitting apart, but the other only laughed, albeit exhausted.
"Hahaha... No need to worry, my friend. T'was but a scare, I apologize for my reaction." He wiped the grass off his hands. "If only the ground wasn't so slick, I'd pop out with a simple lift, I'm sure." Trying to lift himself once more, he only managed to agitate his fresh wounds. Smaller hands of the Tarnished urged him to cease and rest.
"Alexander, hold on a moment, please." They begged, willing the frustrated jar to sit still. "You must be stuck on something. Usually you come out clean after a swing or two. I'd know." They joked, reminiscing to the few times they'd helped the jar out from similar predicaments. He never quite shared how he got into them, but the Tarnished didn't pry.
Digging into their bag, the Tarnished took out a small pot and some ingredients. The jar inspected their work with curiosity, inquiring what it was all for. The Tarnished hummed it was to "slicken him up" whatever that meant. Into the pot went various ingredients, from melted mushrooms, to what looked like very thick syrup. The jar wasn't sure what it was, but the Tarnished looked like they knew what they were doing so he did not object to whatever idea they had.
Closing the pot, the Tarnished held it with both hands and shook it excessively. "This should help get you loose from whatever is holding you. We'll just have to hope it reaches beneath you to get to the root of the problem. I can maybe try and get it there but we'll know once we try. Just don't go stumbling into any flames, okay?"
The pot oozed with something black and goopy, which the jar at last recognized to be oil.
"By the gods you are a man of vision!" The jar brimmed. The Tarnished chuckled as they circled the pot and inspected the best route to apply the oil. They poured onto the jar itself, letting the oil do the work. Crouching and digging on the edges of the hole here and there, they poured the goopy liquid and hoped it'd seep far enough to work.
Alexander chuckled and braced himself. "This will have me as slippery as a toad. I have a good feeling about this, my friend." He listened as the Tarnished put the empty pot away. "Right! Give me a good smack from behind with something nice and big!"
But they never did. Instead, he heard hooves circle him, before the spectral steed of the Tarnished was in front of him, the Tarnished attaching long ropes on the steed's saddle. "You'll break, Alexander. I'm not hitting you again. Instead, I'll do it the way I intended from the beginning." They said simply, giving a brief look to the jar, who sat quietly, waiting.
The ropes were tied to Alexander, where he had large handles that rested over his shoulders. Giving a couple raisins to their steed, the Tarnished looked back to the jar. "Ready?"
Alexander gave two thumbs up. "Ready as ever, my friend!"
Smiling, the Tarnished walked around the pot and took a greatsword from their enchanted bag. Slipping the end into the dirt, the Tarnished braceda foot on top of it, before shouting to their steed with clicks of their tongue. "Alright, get him out, Torrent! Pull!"
Torrent whinnied and pulled forth, ropes grinding against the leather saddle as the tension grew. Hooves digging into the humid earth beneath, the steed slowly pulled forth. Alexander pushed up with his arms against the ground while the Tarnished used the blade as leverage beneath him. The dirt shafted and the ropes groaned, until the jar finally rose and in a sudden tug came loose, rolling onto the uneven terrain.
Torrent galloped out of the way of the rolling jar, but was still attacked by the ropes that bound the two. The Tarnished rushed over and used the blade to cut Torrent loose before the jar tugged the steed with him. "Sorry, buddy. Thank you for the help." Shaking its head, the steed accepted the apologetic treats from the Tarnished, snorting against the palm of their hand.
Alexander came to a halt with his hands and rose up on his feet at last, laughing out from the thrill. "Well thought my friend! Brilliant idea as always!" He roared as he walked back to the Tarnished and their steed. "And you, too, mighty steed. I thank you."
"Good to have you up and free once more, Alexander." The Tarnished chuckled, turning to the jar. "Now, let me look at you." They circled the pot, inspecting the cracks on his body.
"Oh, no need to fret, my friend. I'll be alright." Alexander comforted, bringing the Tarnished back before him with a guiding hand. "I'll have to mend these cracks before I can return to being the mighty warrior jar Iron Fist Alexander! Until then, I will avoid going through too much battling, as much as it pains me to say."
The Tarnished removed the ropes from the steed and the jar, before tucking them back onto the saddle in bundles. "If my word means anything, then please, avoid conflict altogether until you're put back together." They said, voice almost somber. "I'd rather still have a friend to find out in the world, wherever you may go, wherever fate permits us meet." They grabbed the reins of their steed, looking at them with a thoughtful gaze. Shaking out of it, they returned to Alexander with a smile. "Best you don't go breaking before one of us becomes the mightiest warrior, eh?"
Alexander hummed in agreement, arms crossed. If the Tarnished had to guess, it was a pose inspired by a particular general they battled not so long ago. The proud stance was all too familiar, but it suited him.
"I hope to see you become the mightiest Tarnished in the Lands Between. You're well on your way there, my friend." He finally chuckled.
The three began making their way from the tower to a camp set up by the tarnished. They invited Alexander along to catch up for a moment before the jar would be on his way again and he obliged. The weather was as favorable as Liurnia gave it, humid, chilly and sprinkling rain in the evenings. Tonight was no different, so the tread through the trees to the camp covered by some rocks was not the most comfortable one, but no one complained out loud.
"Mightiest Tarnished, huh?" The warrior Tarnished finally chuckled. "Saving the title of Mightiest Warrior Of All for yourself?" They gave an amused look to the jar who chuckled in response. "It's alright, though. You deserve such a title. I'm sure you'll achieve it."
Settling down in the covered camp, a fire was lit and both warriors sat in a comfortable silence. Torrent had faded away after having his fill of food, leavin the two weathered bodies to sit by the fire. There was an odd feeling in the Tarnished's chest, like something was weighing heavily in the air. Alexander hadn't responded too heartily in his jokes about becoming the mightiest warrior and it was bringing a foreign anxiety to the surface.
"So..." The Tarnished began, using a stick to stoke the fire. "Where to next, Alexander?" They asked casually, listening to the jar shift and hum.
"Well, I must mend what was quite broken at the festival" -he gestured to himself- "and so, until I find a way to do that, I will simply wander, I'd wager." He sighed. "Sounds awfully dreadful of a fate for a warrior jar, doesn't it?"
Smiling, the Tarnished leaned back against some firewood and sighed. "Boring, dreadful,... Maybe. But it's necessary and I, for one, am glad you're keeping away from fights until then. I really am, Alexander." They gazed at the large jar sitting beside them, who sat with his arms hanging on the ground, hands in the first before him. The Tarnished's eyes followed along all the cracks that he'd received at the festival. "Just one hit is all it took", he'd said with such devastation and self-loathing in his voice. Alexander had been broken back at the festival, having cracked and rolled aside to watch the Tarnished defeat Radahn along with other fine warriors. He had been beyond humiliated.
"I, on the other hand, am nothing but a crock... I can hardly stand to face one such as you." His words had stung, for sure. A friend, the only friend who was, well, friendly, and alive to boot, was ashamed of himself and though he showed determination to get better, he had been so reluctant to be in the Tarnished's company for time. It was almost like there had been a wall between them for a time. Like a soldier afraid to face their mighty general.
"Something on your mind?" The jar chimed in, noticing the Tarnished's somber gaze upon him. "Still worried, are we?"
Eyes widening briefly, the Tarnished smiled lightly, before lifting their gaze to the rocks above. "Hmm..." But they did not elaborate. The heavy lump in their throat needed to go first. It was tight and continued down their chest in an oppressing weight. They were so worked up over the fear of loss that the comfortable silence was becoming a looming buzz at the back of their mind.
Alexander could see it in their eyes. The slight tension of their brow, trying to relax the muscles of their face to appear as calm as they could, but the tension was clear beneath the facade. He didn't quite know what to do with the situation, given the Tarnished was more quiet than open about their personal feelings, but something was clearly pressing their mind. He could only hope it wasn't his cracks bringing them such severe discomfort.
"What about you then, hm? Where does the adventure continue from here?" He tried to lighten up the mood, voice always gruff with excitement. "With Godrick, Rennala, and Radahn all conquered, I can only imagine you'd journey North. Many more Demigods await." He bristled, shaking his first with might to try and reinvigorate some of the vigor in the gloomy eyes of the Tarnished.
It worked to an extent, but the tension remained. The Tarnished watched with a soft smile, but their eyes did not reflect the gesture. "Yep," -they sat back up, legs crossed with their elbows on their knees- "onward to fulfill my purpose. Being one hell of a mighty Tarnished. Unconquered yet." They feigned a brimming smile, mimicking Alexander's gesture with their fist.
The jar watched and listened with full intention to continue the light-hearted moment, but the tension pushed at the back of his mind. "That's the spirit! Although... that thrill and vigor has dulled from your spirit since we last met, I will say, my friend. Does something bother you?"
Almost surprised, the Tarnished looked to the jar, before sighing. It can't be helped, they always were awful at hiding their discomforts. A sigh escaped their nose, lips pursed in thought for a moment. "You have a goal, Alexander. An admirable one, too," they started. "A goal I would hope to share, were it not for the guidance given to me by grace. To become Lord. I don't want to, if I'm honest." They finally admitted, though their gaze was low in shame of the confession. "If only I could simply be a warrior testing my mettle. To travel and learn alongside those such as you. And not worry of the inevitable call of the Two Fingers."
Alexander listened quietly as the Tarnished went on, voice growing increasingly frustrated with each passing word. The Tarnished continued; "I long for the thrill of battle, but if I'm being honest, I don't quite feel it anymore."
"Whatever do you mean? Doesn't the thrill of battle send your heart aflutter? The clash of weapon son the battlefield?" Alexander chimed in, surprised. The Tarnished shook their head.
"I cannot ever truly perish, Alexander. Not while the gold swirls true in my eyes, not as long as grace wills me to live, eternally in battle. I've died countless times and yet... Here I sit. I fought Godrick long ago and perished to his axe countless times. Same with Rennala's sorceries, and even various other minor events that lead to my doom. Yet here I sit."
The silence between the two stretched for a long time. Alexander didn't quite know what to say. He'd be devastated if his training and hard work was all for naught and he never truly received a warrior's end if he was bested. To forever live and fight and never know what is enough. What determines he is undefeated if he cannot ever truly be defeated to begin with.
The Tarnished sat in silence, hands tugging on the leather straps of their armor as if a way to relieve stress, but their grasp shook.
"Tell me, friend..." They started, voice almost hushed, before they spoke up as they faced the jar. "If one day grace abandons me, deems me unworthy and I can at last be the warrior I thrived to become... However long that may take..." Their eyes steeled with such emotion it made Alexander's frame shudder. "Will you grant me a warrior's death? In battle?"
The words came with raw power, determination, hope. Alexander was silent for a brief moment, before his body leaned in a nod-like gesture. "My friend, if it is your warrior's will, then I would be honored. Likewise, I'd hoped to one day test our mettle together in battle. You are a mighty warrior, ever growing, and should your feats take you to become the mightiest of them all, I would hope you'd grant me the honor to fight you."
"What if I was to kill you instead?" The Tarnished's steeled eyes faltered, taken aback from Alexander's agreement.
The warrior jar only laughed. "Then I'd receive an honorable death by the hands of the mightiest warrior of them all, my friend. And you, you can test your mettle until you meet your match much like Radahn himself! Hahaha!" His voice was kind and jolly for someone talking about his own death, but his tone softened seeing as his little friend wasn't as gleeful. "But worry not, my friend, of such a tomorrow just yet.
For now, take the blessings given by grace as an opportunity, hm? Grow, learn. Become the best you can be. Forge your own path, should you ever surrender your Great Runes to another who holds your warrior's approval or become Elden Lord yourself. When you feel the time is right... I will gladly fight you. May that battle lead wherever it may, I will always be glad to have one such as yourself as someone I may call my friend."
You and Radahn were once close. After the Shattering, things had changed, but you held to an old promise you'd made to him a long time ago.
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
"...Howling at the sky."
A story of a fallen general. A man succumbed to madness induced by the wretched rot that plaged Caelid. A man worn down to an animal, a beast with no control, no mind left to think, to feel. A man that rivaled the stars even still, and reigned undefeated despite his rotting core that overtook the courageous soul within.
You knew that man, rather personally, once.
That vast open battlefield, painted with scarlet sand and dotted with the corpses of friends and foes from furious battles fought. The field once a green beach, filled with soldiers training, laughing. Images of how it used to be flooded your mind, it was a bittersweet thought. When you first arrived to Caelid and sought to continue your training among the soldiers led by General Radahn, a mighty Demigod. You were an aspiring young soul back then.
You were a warrior, now.
The gates of Redmane Castle were shut tight, only champions worthy gaining entry via portals to partake in a festival of battle. You among them. If you were honest, you'd avoided coming here for a long time, but seeing as no victor ever arose from the Radahn Festival, you decided to set foot back in the place you once considered your second home.
Now the fistival was upon you, joined by many champions from all around the Lands Between, folowing their own or a master unfamiliar to you. You'd no intention to fight for the sake of the Great Rune Radahn possessed. You came to set him free from the rotting blight. To grant him peace at last.
The warriors rallied, charging into the field with their weapons at the ready. It was eerie, the scene. The sky was an oppressing crimson, dust kicked up with each step on the ground, every leap over an old corpse to make way to the taller hills. A booming bellow of a giant approached, silhouette looming over the hills.
A giant, a mighty warrior donning old lion armor made of gold and a furious red mane dirtied with blood and rot rustling in the wind. Those eyes once golden and kind, now lit with fury unfamiliar, uncontrollable. The grewtbow fit for such a beast came to view, giant bolts held at the ready as gravity-enhanced shots fired, kicking up dust like waves on each side.
A leap to the side was enough to avoid the bolts, though a couple missed their opportunity, getting struck clean through or split from the force.
Next came the rain of arrows as large as colossal spears that plunged into the ground near endlessly. You avoided the rain and charged forth, Radahn now focused on you, the first opponent. The bow returned to his back and the famed greatswords were drawn out, metal surface scraping together with gravity sparks. He roared out and charged in with the swords dragging in the sand.
Head-to-head, you charged forth without hesitation, weapons tight in your fists. You had to shake the creeping memories from your eyes, green fields flashing in your peripheral, your sparring lessons clashing with the thunderous greatswords of the Radahn of today.
You leapt into the approaching swords and ducked to his armored body. Your blades dug into his steed, undead, yet obedient, and left it collapsing in the sand. You swallowed the pit in your throat and muttered your apologies to the poor animal, as Radahn roared out from your actions.
Just then, the remaining warriors charged in and took Radahn's attention for the most part. But not fully. He knew you were there, he knew what you did. The knowledge twisted in your chest like a knife.
Without Leonard, Radahn was forced to run and step around himself, though it wasn't a problem, only a slight slowdown. With his gravity powers, he could leap and glide over the sand swiftly, making it an unreal sight for someone of his size. He swung and smashed his weapons, raising stones from the sand and sending meteors out to the champions fighting against him with fervor. But none were enough to still the rabid general.
For a moment the giant seemed to have calmed, forgetting your presence in the field, but you quickly reminded him as you ran up his spear-filled back, blades drawn high. He roared and spun, one of the weapons lodged on his back shoving into your side. You grasp onto it and pull yourself back to him with a lash of your blade. It scraped sparks against his shoulder, but didn't hook into anything beneath.
He growled and howled in protest as you clung to his back, shaking his whole body to get you off him where he can reach you. With a heavy step down, he leapt high with purple magic glowing on his feet and spun. You faltered and gave him the chance to elbow your body out of the air and into the sand. Witha heavy thud you roll in the sand, groaning as you crash through some discarded weapons. The old spears and swords fell and broke from your weight, leaving painful spots under your armor that were sure to bruise later on. Drawing a deep breath, you kick up off the ground just in time to avoid the crashing greatswords that came down into the sand. The ground shook, but you stood wide and waited for Radahn to face you again.
The fight continued in a similar pattern for a long time. You'd charge in, get at his legs before you tried to get up his body, but each time he'd do something new to throw you off. You got up off the ground once more, grabbing your fallen blade off the sand with a wobble in your step. Radahn watched you, standing awfully still for someone who was acting like a rabid dog. He stared at you, like in waiting.
You'd fallen again, and again. It was not even funny anymore, but you both laughed it off anyways. Your shoulder ached from the amount of times you'd met the dirt from a great height, but you remained resilient. "Do something new, would you?"
Scoffing, Radahn looked down at you from a distance. "Getting tired, are we? Let me know if you'd like to surrender."
"In your dreams, o'mighty general." You mocked, grabbing your sparring weapons of choice. "You might persuade others to give in, but you'll find no such pleasures with me." Much like Radahn, you dual-wielded weapons, though nothing as large as his.
Radahn looked at you with his arms crossed over his powerful chest, a smirk on his lips as you taunted him. "Hmm..." With a shake of his head, he chuckled, readying himself again. "Don't get mad at me again if you end up sore and bruised."
"I can't be afraid of being sore and bruised if I am to be a soldier. Give it a little more than shoves and nudges, will you?" you pushed, grinning with your arms open in a taunting manner.
"Might hurt you more than I mean to, you like to test my ability to stop mid swing." He took the first go towards you, but you only smiled, returning the gesture.
"Give it your all, Radahn."
"With you, never."
Your muscles ached and cried as you charged back in for another try, roaring out from bitter memories flooding your mind. You'd slashed his legs raw and bloody and it was taking its toll on him at last. With a kick off the sand, you step on his knee, then chest and with might enforced by some magic you'd learned from the one and only general himself. The force of your kick had left even you surprised, when it shoved him backwards, balance toppling over his heels.
The general fell heavily into the sand, dust kicking up in a dense cloud into the air around you. You had to squint to avoid getting your eyes blinded with it, weapons hooked into his armor so you didn't fall off his chest.
After the dust began to settle, Radahn hadn't moved. He laid there, arms on the ground with his swords in his grasp and face twisted with fury. Though it wasn't as wild as it was prior. It was a leftover of the expression he'd worn for so long, now faltering to a strange conflict.
"Finally! Got you!" You laugh as you sit atop Radahn's heaving chest, weapons crossed by his neck in a display of a killing strike. "You're dead." You claim victoriously. His arms are splayed on the ground, fists letting go of the handles in defeat. He looks at you with a fond smile, before rolling his eyes.
"Lucky move." he retorts, but you immediately ruffle up in defense.
"Still counts!" you pull your weapons away and cross your arms. "You just can't admit that-"
"You won." He cuts you off before you go off on a tangent. "Well done." Your befuddled expression has him laughing, chest making you bounce from the movement.
You can't help but laugh with him as he plays dead on the ground in a playful manner. Of course, it was all a ruse to catch you off guard to...
Teardrops fell softly onto the general's cheek, your hair dangling around your face as you stared down at him, weapons crossed against his neck in a killing position. Eyes wide, you meet the eyes below you, long gone from any sense of person, familiarity. Your knuckles were white, muscles tingling from anticipation. You hesitated, something you swore you wouldn't do, but Radahn did not move. He watched, he waited.
Until his hands loosened around the greatswords, gloved fingers uncurling. The gesture was familiar, it scared you. You had to do it. You couldn't risk Radahn getting the upper hand while you were weak. You wanted to know what he'd do, but he was mad, lost his mind, rotten inside out. You watched his hands shift, eyes glancing frantically from them to his face. In a desperate cry, you drew your weapons back, this time, the blades cut flesh. The general's arm's stilled. You wailed, almost horrified at what you'd done.
"Radahn..?" you call out, knowing he would not answer. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." tears streak your dirty cheeks as the general's soul begins to fade, whatever remained of him returning to the Erdtree as you intended. His body eternally awaiting the release of death from destined death, for the time being, he'd have peace this way. His Great Rune was left behind, seeping into your being with strange warmth. A congratulation to your victory. A bittersweet thank you. Your body colapsed into the sand, hands clutching your chest as the knife within your core twisted and turned, burning as you cried, howling into the sky.
Radahn give me strength. For the one who did this to you yet lives. And I made a promise, long ago, to defend the lands you loved with you. I've not abandoned this promise.
So far the queue is,,,,- D (Darian)- Gideon- Merchant Kale- and many more ive laid out but i am so low on idea juices as of late because I am traveling atm
You were a sorcerer of great renown, once rivaling the great Starscourge in your feats of gravitational magic. It is a shame a mortal cannot withstand such power to an extent of a god.
A small story, a bit blurb-like and not as prettily written, but I like the idea. Enjoy :)
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
You'd pushed yourself to the limit again. And again. And again. Your skin buzzed and your heart palpitated from the sheer force of the gravitational magic. Your hair was elevated, slolwy coming down with your wobbly body, until you collapsed like a discarded doll. You excelled in the studies of gravity and the sheer power of the stars, top of the class, so to speak. You were revered for your ambition to learn, but very few were actually concerned for your wellbeing in consequence of pushing your limits in such drastic ways.
Your heart thumped arrythmically against your ribs, tensing and squeezing the muscles in your breast in painful cramps. Gasping, you sit on the floor clutching your chest with slow steadying breaths. A larger man rushes to you from among the teachers and admiring students, who only left you to the floor as display of the inevitable aftermath.
"Hey, hey... Don't push it, breathe, in... out... let it go, let the gravity go." the man with a wild red mane soothed you, hand on your shoulder in support. His golden eyes watched over you each time you went through your routine, your practice or show of prowess. He was the quiet cheer that admired you, but also feared. You were a mortal, compared to him. A mere human of flesh and blood in waiting of death sooner than him.
You looked to him with a soft smile, leaning into his comfort as you caught your breath. You both shared a small moment of rest, allowing you to rest against him, unafraid to close your eyes in his warmth.
Radahn, son of Rennala and Radagon, an aspiring general practicing gravity magic much like you. He'd made quick progress, but you exceeded everyones expectations and served as an inspiration to the giant Demigod. He smiled fondly to you, eyes glimmering with admiration and appreciation of your time, your tutelage to him. You held an open mind beyond those of your peers and he wasn't afraid to hear your theories and calculations, even in the later hours of the day over a drink of something, going on for hours about your goals.
They were admirable, but increasingly worrying as each year passed.
You both were older now, and while Radahn shared these lofty goals of mastering gravitational magic for a more humble reason, your mortality was pressing him to question you. To worry over you more and more each time. As much as he did not intend it to be so, it pushed you away from him. Every moment of friendship, any closure, any past sweetheart feelings fleeted from you. Slowly and not entirely openly to his knowledge it was all disappearing, but you hated hearing his doubts, however caring they may have been. He doubted you. Your ability to withstand the extent of your thrive and thirst to experiement.
And now, here he was again, worryin over you. Eyes meeting the Demigod's you flash a quick smile, before pushing yourself to stand. Your body always took its time adjusting to the normal gravity that pulled your muscles to the ground and the wait left them weak and wobbly. Despite the tremors threatening to buckle you, you stand up and step away from the Demigod. "Thank you, Radahn... I'm fine, really."
He wasn't convinced, but smiled regardless. "That was... That was impressive. As always." He praised, to which you responded with the usual thanks and asked about his progress, to which he gave you brief updates. You didn't quite follow his training as intently anymore, so he updated you whenever you asked about it. It felt like a bitter formality, but you knew he tried to mean well.
Go forward some more years and you were at your limits. Your threshold was in sight and you wanted to step across, to succumb to the opportunity, the possibility to find something beyond you beyond your mortal binds. You'd locked yourself away to study and research for a long time, scarcely updating yourself with Radahn at all anymore.
Slamming your book, you sighed heavily. You were so close to figuring it all out. You just needed to see one of your teachers for another book of theirs. Every tutor was more thna willing to fuel your work in great anticipation to see if you succeed or perish. Either way, they'd get to know what is beyond the mortal limitations.
Stepping outside of your secluded study, you traverse through the tunnels out into Sellia and peruse the halls a bit absently. Surrounding clutter and people were usually affected by your presence, with pages fluttering or hair rising on people's heads, but other than that, nothing much was affected, you had enough control of it. Even the little that did escape was for your own amusement. You enjoyed the buzz of magic on your skin, even if it had taken its toll on your purpling limbs.
"Lucky I didn't have to come knocking at your study this time." A famiiar voice laughed from behind you, "You like to throw anything by the door at me until I go away or you actually recognize its me."
You look back, seeing the red maned Demigod standing before you, sporting a smile, though a somber one. You smile in turn, having not expected to run into him today, he was so busy with his training you'd wager. He crossed his arms as he usually did, tall frame ever larger after each passing year. "Unles you know is me and don't want company either way, haha..." His gaze fell to the floor, but quickly shook out of it. "I wanted to come share the news with you, if you have a moment."
You couldn't object to his kind eyes and nodded, allowing him to relay these news he had. He brimmed and clapped his hands togehter, a thudnerous sound that rung in the ears most of the time. "Fantastic! Well, I'll keep it brief for you; I'm moving to Caelid to hold fort there. Own troops, my own solders and all." He seemed so excited, chest puffed with pride and a wide grin to boot. You felt your lips curl in a smile and you congratulated the young general genuinely. He deserved it after all his hard work.
"Thank you, you're too kind." He smiled in turn, shaking his head. For a moment he seemed like he wanted to keep going on about his news, but looking you over, his eyes glanced to your covered hands and feet. Unlike the usual mage, your hands and feet were wrapped in cloth like bandaging. He saw th change when it was starting, but doesn't know how bad its gotten. "You scarcely come outside anymore, I hope you're getting some sun and enough to eat in there." He feigned a light-hearted tone, though his words were genuine. Your smile tensed, but didn't falter.
"I'm fine, Radahn, but thank you." you shook your hand dismissively. He shared a bit more of his future and you listened quietly, chiming in with small questions which he was more than happy to answer, almost like he'd been waiting to share it all with someone. Perhaps he waited to tell you for a while.
In the topic, you happened to mention your nearby future, which you felt you'd regret quickly after. "I will be moving from Sellia in time too, though not to become a mighty general like yourself." you chuckled.
"Still seeking the great conclusion, hm?" Radahn asked almost knowing, bittersweet and your smile shook. He realized his question and stammered to correct himself, but was at a loss of what to say. "I, ah... That came off wrong, I'm sorry,-"
"It's alright." you reply briefly, averting your eyes. "We've been over this, we don't need to go over it again." You flashed a smile, fixing your robe idly.
Radahn bit his lip, but he couldn't suppress the words that clawed in his throat. "Over you trying to kill yourself?"
"Radahn..." you warn. "Just because you don't agree with what I do, doesn't mean you can control me. Demigod or not. No one can tell me what I can or cannot do."
"I'm not-" he sighed, exasperated, "I'm not trying to control you, I'm just... I'm so afraid for you. Afraid you'll kill yourself, despite how much I've told you you canot handle what you're about to try."
"Because I am a mere mortal? A petty human unlike your godliness? Is that it?" you bite back, brows knit to match your furious eyes. "Apologies your majesty, sir, but I am not afraid of my mortal binds and if myresearch kills me then so be it!" you screamed the last words and could tell the Demigod was bristling in his spot at the defiance. "This is everything I've ever worked for. You know this. I don't want to stop. I don't need to stop. I'm so close after all these years and if I ceased my research now I'd die with regret of never knwoing. Something you would never understand." You were always a tease at his authority, may years ago. Now he despised the fact that you didn't listen. You did your own thing despite what others said.
"Goddamn it, why won't you ever listen to me!" he roared in desperation, nothing much to say to combat your words.
You snapped back each and every time. Unyielding. "Because I am not doing this for a pet, Radahn! This is all I have! All I know and all I want! All I've lived for and what I will happily die for in the end if it comes to that!"
"I don't want to lose you." he begged, voice hushed.
"You already have, Radahn." you whispered. "Good luck in Caelid, general. You've my congratulations."
You turned on your heel, tension in the air heavy with gravity magic as you walked furhter away. You felt it tickling your neck, knowing full well it wasn't your own doing. "I'm warning you, Radahn."
"Can I convince you?"
"With your magic? And do what? Overpower me?" You challenged, turning back to him. Glintstones raise from the ground, wallls of the building around them groaned and shook as heavy tension built up between them. Radahn's expression was frustrated, determined, yet sad. Yours was conflicted and angry.
Radahn's power was immense, but you hadn't trained all your life for nothing. His burst of gravitational pull was cut short with your own, foot stomping the floor with a dense shock cracking the floortiles as the objects raised by Radahn stilled in your hold. You threatened to tear down the building, but knew better than to induce furhter destruction.
Fixign your posture, you slid your foot back and sighed. Radahn stood without a word, conflicted as to whether he should do something, say something. But you turned around again and walked away.
It was the last you saw of each other until the present day.
Radahn was standing with his soldiers in Caelid, at Redmane Castle. A fortress as large as its general, named in tribute to his unruly wild mane like a lion. He was adorned in heavy armor, weapons encarved with gravitational symbols in symbolism of his mastery of the magic. His steed, Leonard remained by his side with the help of his gravitational magic as he always intended, but living with the magic was a continuous memory of someone he used to know many years ago. Their constant pull of gravity, the pull that drew him in, his heart. The magic that also pushed him away like snapped tension of a graviational field. He was flung so far he could no longer reach them. Even if it was his own doing out of worry, out of love he wasn't ready to elt go.
Memories bitter in his mind, he shook himself back into the moment. Soldiers sparred in the fields, training as was their routine. The day was calm for the most part, until a missive came from a scout, rushing to the field with pieces of his armor missing and a wild look in his bloodied eyes. His face was pale and he was extremely wobbly atop his horse, before falling to the ground. The general turned his attention down to the scout, who took out a letter, then another, and a third, before tossing them to the ground as he collapsed laying on his back, coughing. Radahn kneeled with a furrowed brow, motioning others to come in aid of the scout. The poor man tried to stammer out words, but was struggling to maintain a breath. One of the men confirmed his heartbeat was arrythmic and he was spasming in the chest.
The scout was taken away, while Radahn inspected the letters delivered. His brows knit together more with each passing paragraph. Written by a few towns in a call for aid in figuring out what was causing an immense gravitational pull beneath some tunnels in Caelid. The towns were suffering from the pull, people sustaining injuries and the tunnels collapsing in on themselves were hazardous.
A horrible feeling twisted in Radahn's gut and he straightened back atop Leonard. The letters served no specifics, but the scout had tried to mutter out a name of a cave. He'd have to start there. To his soldiers' surprise, he sent them out to the towns to asess damage and injuries and secure the area within the reach of the gravity field. He'd go alone to see the root of the problem.
It took a day of riding, until Radahn began to feel the pull of gravity. It was subtle where he was, but each minute furhter, pulled his body stronger in a singe direction. In the distance was a large mount of ground being elevated unnatorally, pieces floating above ground. Eventually, he had to leave Leonard behind, in concern for the horse's safety. The animal protested, but didn't disobey being left. Radahn's own abilities aided him in resisting the pull, but it was concerningly strong by the time he reached a narrow collapsed tunnel. It was snug for a normal man, but for him it would be impossible to enter without some modifications. The entrance was largely blocked by clamped togehter rubble, but he'd make quick work of it.
With his arms extended, he stomped and kicked the ruble into motion, forging a path within the tunnel, into the mountain that was sculpted by gravity, rocks floating, pieces of the mountain in the air while the rest was crumbling in on itself.
The deeper he pushed, the more Radahn had to combat the pull that tugged at his insides, challenging his own prowess as he intruded the field. Grunts escaped as his muscles strained with each rock he moved, each path he opened, until he began to hear cries, a voice in immense agony. The wails were long, dragged cries that ended in raspy screams that faded off in raw gasps. The voice was eerily familiar and Radahn wasn't sure if he could believe it to be anyone else anymore. He'd have to see it to be convinced otherwise.
The voice tunred haunting as he came closer, resembling not only cries and pleas, but words. He didn't know if his mind conjured the words in an effort to soothe his hopes, but he could have sworn he heard his name.
With a mighty stomp, rocks shook loose, cracking a path for him to enter a tunnel glowing with gravitationa string that helf rocks in the air, hovering, unmoving. Strings of magic clung to his legs and shoulders from the tunnel walls, until he reached a wide opening. Thick strings almost like lightning, struck into his body, attempting to grasp him under the forceful pull. Grunting, he dug his heels into the ground and held his ground. His hands held the edges of the tunnel opening, keeping his body from leaning forward as he scanned the surroundings.
It looked like the area was once an underground study, with furniture and tools splintered under the force of the gravity magic floating in the air. Fabric sat still in the air, torn to ribbons like everything else around. Strings of magic connected every splinter, every piece until they all reached high in the open cavernous space carved by the force field.
From above, came another wail.
"R... Ghaaah!!... dh...gha...nh..." A body wheezed and gasped as it floated in the air like a center of gravitation, holding everything around in a still state of levitation. Body cracked and glowing from within, the purpling of the limbs now back as all life was drawn to the center of the body. Hair wild and flowing, the person shook and gasped, mouth agape with eyes gleaming bright.
Golden eyes grew wide as Radahn recognized who he was looking at. They'd reached their goal, of finding what happens beyond the threshhold of mortal capabilities. It was unbelievable for someone other than a Demigod to have the will and endurance to withstand something like it, but even they were faltering, crackingunder the pressure, the pain of the force. It was slowly crushing them, and in turn the field grew unstable, sure to burst at any moment once they collapsed.
Rushing to action, radahn looked around him, face twisting with urgency. He had nothing to really rely to hold on, to use as leverage. Turning back to look upon the wailing form as they cried out again, he grit his teeth. Hands releasing the tunnel, his heels dug into the rubble and he reached his arms out, before clutching onto the strings pulling him. His limbs lit purple, force fluttering in waves as he combated the sheer force with a growing roar.
"Hngh-" Radahn braced, eyes gleaming, before he roared out, "GRAAH!" A shockwave released from within, striking the entire cavern and all within it. It was like a pulse and all sat still, before they came falling down from the ceiling, The rubble, the splintered furniture and the floating body that gasped almost softly in the brief moment of stillnes that followed the gravity's release.
Radahn rushed beneath them, arms extended, before the ceiling came collapsing from all directions, ground bursting water, ceiling crumbling down atop them. The earthquake above ground ceased and the crumbled mountain stilled. For a while, nothing happened.
Then the ground trembled, shook, and in a loud quake the floodgates opened and water came gushing in the massive hole revealed by the collapsed cave. Rubble and dirt was drawn to the spot, densely packed in the ground, topped with a layer of water.
Over the years, this body of water was dubbed the lake of Aeonia, by the people.
Whatever happened beneath the lake, it left Radahn shaken, grieving. He'd gotten out from beneath the lake, alive and well enough. His old friend hadn't been granted such a pleasurable end. From the unending crushing weight of their own gravity, the once the most brilliant gravity sorcerer's body finally crumbled, no longer held together by the pull of gravity. What remained, was buried near the lake, a place where a mortalaccomplished something rivaling that of a might of a Demigod.
The grave was held by Radahn's own powers, a statue hovering above the tomb in symbol to their accomplishment.
The statue never wavered, never lowered. Until after the shattering, when the Starscourge, the Great General Radahn, was slain at the Radahn Festival. The tomb of the gravity sorcerer drowned in scarlet rot, as was the lake once vibrant and blue, conjured from their actions.
(Lake of Aeonia became the Swamp of Aeonia later on and was overtaken by scarlet rot)
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40,380,423
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Elden Ring: Adventures
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['Icelybird']
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Explicit
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F/M
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Elden Ring (Video Game)
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Banished Knight Oleg/Tarnished (Elden Ring), Perfumer/Tarnished (Elde Ring)
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Banished Knight Oleg (Elden Ring), Original Female Character(s), Perfumers (Elden Ring)
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Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Rough Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, My First Fanfic, I Tried, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Non-Consensual Drug Use
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English
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2022-07-18
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Updated
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2022-11-23
| 6,388
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3/?
| 3
| 60
| 4
| 1,550
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['trashofmylif3', 'Hex_GoodRandom', 'That_Mushroom_Cloud', 'XoZombie_PandaoX', '4WARIE', 'Yunoun', 'CyanideSerpents', 'Know_Love_To_Avoid_The_Landfall', 'ByebyeAlie', 'nathalsss', 'RedAlpha101', 'yuzuhime', 'SatanicLover616', 'kitsunephae', 'mznkmrrr', 'Ayumi_S', 'troubledhimiko', 'Crackatowa_Cats', 'bela013', 'Nens', 'joyibli', 'x_Sakura_Haruno_x', 'makayla_76', 'foxface13', 'Nersabeast', 'Ohmicron', 'TinyTeaCup42', 'OfSilentThings', 'yuandong', 'FlyingFoxy', 'AthanasiusCreations', 'Mataki', 'Ededdyeded', 'Shadow_Spectre']
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[]
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She sat up; the familiar warmth radiating from the grace had snapped her back from the trance. Looking around, blinking to clear her sight - taking in her surroundings, she quickly realised that she had teleported to the Volcano Manor grace. A gloved hand rubbed her helmet, and she sat there for a few minutes. Head resting against her head, and her dark brows furrowed. Having had collected her thoughts, she got to her feet and walked to one of the manor rooms that she had made her own.
Loosening the heavy helmet's straps, she tugged it off her head and placed it onto the table once inside. Long auburn hair fell from her head, reaching down to the small of her back. With a hand brushed a lock of hair behind her ear; a weak sigh escaped her lips, and she bowed her head; still holding the helmet. A pair of chestnut brown eyes stared down onto the slits of the helmet that stared soulless back at her. She chewed her lip and tapped the helmet with two fingers. Her mind was wandering off - thoughts and needs she usually pushed aside to focus on her task became to creep into her thoughts. Eventually, she withdrew her hands to search her bag for something. Usually, she could not use it when not in presence of one of the large monuments commonly found scattered throughout the Lands Between.
She never knew what they were called; she just noticed them, and it did not take long before she realised, she could summon her spirits when near them. However regardless of that, her mind was set on trying an idea that had popped into her head as soon as she had discovered the spirit ash a few moons ago. With her hand grasping the handle of the bell, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes - the now familiar sound of a bell echoed through the room. Holding her breath, listening for any movements around her - only to hear the fire crackle from the wall torches. She then let go of her breath and placed the bell next to her helmet on the table.
"Dang it," she murmured to herself, looking down onto the bell with frustration marked on her features. Grabbing the bell once more, she tried to ring it - this time focusing on the spirit she wanted to appear; squeezing her eyes shut. When she stopped to listen for any sounds of movement around her, she bowed her head - placing the bell back onto the table. Her eyes snapped open when she heard heavy metallic footsteps - the sound of heavy armour - somewhere in the room. Turning to look behind her, she nearly jumped out of her skin upon seeing the Banished Knight towering up in front of her. His gaze rested on her, in either hand he held a sword. Edla took a hand on her chest, trying to calm her breathing; "okay - you scared me, hello," she tried to laugh though she failed horribly.
Leaning back against the table with one hand, she looked up and down of the Banished Knight; "Oleg - right?" She chuckled faintly and snapped her fingers at the knight who silently watched her from where he stood. "Yeah.. Okay. Yep.. Oleg - The Wings of the Storm ... The slayer of traitors...," she chuckled nervously, waving her hand dismissively - seeing that the Banished Knight appeared unfazed by her nervousness. Her eyes wandered down and upon seeing the codpiece she hid her face with a hand; "Oh lord - why does ... Why is it shaped like that?" Whispered Edla to herself, as she turned her head away - staring onto the red carpeted floor. "This is awkward," she continued with a hiss, eyes flickering from the carpet to Oleg who had tilted his head.
Breathing quickly to calm down her nerves; "okay - pull yourself together - you asked him to come - you can do it." She finally got herself to turn around, facing the Banished Knight. Resisting every urge in her body to ring the bell for him to vanish. Taking a step forward, she reached out to him and took a hand on each of his arm. His arms felt cold to touch - solid but cold - there were no warmth and she frowned. The idea she had in her mind was crumbling a bit. 'No!' Her chestnut brown eyes moved from his chest up to the helmet; staring into the slits - hoping to see something. Nothing - there were nothing. Opening her mouth to speak, she quickly changed her mind and shut it again.
Though, taking another deep breath to push past the awkwardness, she ran her hands up his armoured arms; "can you ... Can you drop the swords?" Her voice was quivering and tiny - far from the usual calm and self-confident, she possessed. The loud clanking from the swords hitting the ground, made her jerk and grip his arms tightly. Oleg stood still, watching her as she swore at his nonchalance. In her head, she could imagine a slight smirk on his lips - if he had any beneath the helmet. She rested her head against his chest; tapping her fingers against his arms - pondering how she should phrase the next question.
She felt dirty - she felt terribly... 'How could she best phrase it? Oh, Sir Oleg - can you please ravish me, so I can satisfy my needs?' - 'I need you to scratch an itch.' Grimacing at that thought, she shook her head and twisted her lips, sucking on her lower lip. Edla made a small gasp when Oleg moved his hands to hold onto her hips. Gently, he lifted her and put her onto the table; she shifted to get in a better position and leant back on her hands to glance up on him.
"Okay - Oleg. I need you... I need you to help me," she said - trying to sound self-assured, as she leant forward and began to unfasten her greaves, throwing them onto the floor. She swore she could feel his gaze follow her as she removed her lower garments. Edla pulled him closer by his hands - struggling due to his size and weight difference. Her heart was pumping loud enough to block her hearing and her head felt cloudy.
Once he had stepped closer, growing bolder, she began to fumble with his codpiece, avoiding eye-contact as she did. Having successfully unfastened the codpiece and thrown it onto the floor - she now turned to look down. Half-expecting a disappointment, knowing codpieces were more of a decorative than an actual reality, she nearly choked on her own split upon seeing his size.
A large bulge was visible through his lower garments. Glancing up on him in disbelief; "I can't fit you," she whispered through her teeth, shaking her head as she began to push to get him away. "Nope, I am backing out of my idea - this is not...," Edla struggled as Oleg grabbed onto her legs. Once he began running his hands down her inner thighs. It was a cold and ghostly touch, and instead of trying to get more away, she stopped to look at what he was doing. A hand traced up her leg, his cold fingers found their ways between her legs.
The sensation sent chills down her spine, and she tried to scoot away from him, but was unable due to the tight grip around her legs. A flutter formed in her chest when he parted her folds with two large fingers. Her legs began to shake as she watched his fingers slowly sink into her folds, stretching her with every digit. Swallowing a lump, she unceremoniously laid down onto the table, staring up into the ceiling. It was her idea - she wanted it, though she was beginning to get second thoughts about it. She had never been with someone fully, yet she had craved the intimacy and the feeling of touch.
When his fingers began to move, she lost her train of thoughts to the new feeling rolling over her body. Grimacing a bit from the roughness of his gloved fingers, Edla clasped her hands together on her chest and swallowed another lump. Her body moved along with his hand movements; his other hand still held onto her one leg. She wrapped her other leg around his waist, though barely able to due to the size of the chest piece he wore. A few whimpers escaped her lips, and she tilted her head back when a gloved thumb found her clit - the familiar sensation of pleasure rolled through her body, and she felt herself growing wet: easing the soreness from his fingers stretching her.
Edla was shaking now both from nervousness and excitement. When he pulled his fingers out, she frowned from the loss - thinking if she had done something wrong, Edla was about to sit back up when her eyes popped-wide open from a feeling of something hard podding between her legs. A moment of panic rushed through her head, resulting in her squirming; when she realised what was going to happen.
"No, I can't fit you - you are too big," she croaked as a burning sensation began to form down between her legs. She sat up and stared down between them. Oleg was slowly sinking his length into her; an inch at the time - he held onto her legs. It felt as if he was staring right at her as he did so. She pushed against his chest, unable to make him move an inch and when she instead reached for the bell - he grabbed her arms and slammed her back down onto the table. Edla let out a yelp and watched the bell roll down from the table. She let out a loud cry when he did a quick deep thrust, sheathing his entire length deep inside of her.
Her entire body arched up against him. The sudden fullness was sending pain spikes through her as he stretched her beyond of any feeling she had felt before. The room echoed with the sound of whimpers and moans. The various tableware had either been pushed or rolled off the table as it moved in rhythm with the hard thrusts. Oleg had let go of her arms and was now clutching the edges of the table. No sounds came through the slits of his helmet; and he did not seem to lose any steam anytime soon.
Meanwhile Edla was gripping onto his arm with one hand whilst the other she was hiding her face with the other. "Fuck," she kept chanting with a whimper; her body was drenched in sweat. She arched her back again, leaning her head back as she gritted her teeth. Her legs were struggling to stay wrapped around his waist. With the palm pressed against her head, Edla let out a loud moan when Oleg began to roll her clit with one hand. Her breathing was picking up as she approached the edge - she curled her toes and bit her hand when one final thrust sent her spiralling over the edge. She threw her head back down onto the table as she stretched and arched her body. Her hand flailed a bit, clenching and opening before grabbing onto his other arm. Both hands gripping his arms hard.
Oleg did another final thrust and buried himself to the hilt. Her inside grew colder, and she slumped together. Breathing weakly; her arms and legs withdrew from him. Her arms fell onto the table whilst her legs were dangling from the table. She opened her eyes to see him beginning to fade; with a weak hand - she reached out for his helmet; touching it as he finally vanished in front of her. Leaving her alone in the dimly lit room.
Pushing herself off the table; every inch of her body arching in pain from his onslaught - she began to pick her clothing and armour up from the floor; wincing a bit before dragging herself to a chair - collapsing onto it. Her eyes wandered the room as if in a daze before they fell onto the bell that had rolled up under the table. Edle leant down and put it back onto the table.
Second part is here - I think it got too long.. I wasn't sure of to split it up... Still not too impressed with my attempt to do smut writing; but hopefully it will improve. I hope you enjoy reading it though.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
"What a beautiful flower," Edla bent down and picked up a few more of the glowing flowers - leaning back up with her arms full of brightly flowers. She had replaced the usual heavy armour with something lighter - she did not have the mood or energy to carry it around. Around her neck was dangling various talisman that she had found during her travels. Her hood covered up the wild flowering locks of auburn hair; she tugged one lock back into the hood when she watched the ruins further ahead.
There had always been a peculiar interest for ruins - she loved exploring the underground tunnels, the ruins, and the forts whenever she encountered them. These ruins were no exception, she could already feel the bubbling excitement and anticipation for what she could find.
Hidden treasures; new crafting materials or even better new weapons, armour, or spirit ashes. The moment the thought of obtaining a new spirit ash, the heat began to rise in her and she bowed her head - tugging the hood further down to conceal her blushing.
She still remembered the incident back in the Volcanic Manor. The memory of his fingers and the sensations from them, made her swallow a lump. -'Okay - pull yourself together, this is not the time - we are out in the open - not the best time to begin daydreaming.' She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts before swiftly organising the flowers in her bag, humming a cheery melody. Edla pushed away the burning memory of Oleg and instead concentrated on collecting the Altus Bloom.
A smile lingered on her lips as she rubbed two fingers together; eyeing the golden powder left from one of the flowers. It has always been a beautiful sight for her - the smell was lovely too; she sometimes wondered if they made perfume out of these flowers. Her thin hand plucked a Sunflower before Edla turned to look at a Golden Sunflower, "That... That is beautiful," whispered Edla, reaching out to touch the petals.
Though, a sound coming from behind made her straighten her back and frown. Looking over her shoulder, her gaze wandered around; watching for any enemies who might had snuck up on her whilst she had been busy collecting flowers. "I guess... It was just my imagination," she mumbled with a frown, turning her attention to the bush again.
Her eyes opened wide in surprise when a cloaked figure sat up immediately and a colourful powder blown into her face. The world began to spin for her eyes, and she stumbled backwards whilst failing her hands. The spinning made her stomach curl and she wanted to throw up - the feeling faded and replaced by a feeling of desire. Falling into the tall grass with a thump, she arched her back, gasping a bit while digging her nails into the dirt.
Edla stared up into the cloudless blue sky, licking her lips when a tall figure leant over her - it had its head wrapped in a white scarf; a pair of golden eyes stared intensely down on her. A rush of happiness ran through her, making her feel giddy.
She felt jittery upon looking into the eyes. A wonky smile spread on her lips, and she reached out to the figure with a trembling hand; in her hazy mind, it looked blurred. "Who are you? You look funny." She murmured, still with the wonky smile plastered onto her lips.
The smell of strong perfume coming off him hit her nostrils, made her take a deep inhale and breathed out again. "Perfumer!" She said all giddily and arched her back a bit. The perfume smell added with whatever he had blown into her face overwhelmed her senses, sending her further into a cloudy haze.
A pair of red leathery gloved hands began to fumble with her greaves, when she tried to push the hands away, the Perfumer above her leant down - their faces inches from each other. Snarling something at her in an unknown language, he gripped her hands by the wrist with one hand and forced them above her head. A chuckle escaped her lips; her mind was still cloudy however she attempted to try free herself from the man above her.
"I am sorry for taking your sunflowers," she cried out in an overdramatic tone. -'Was he really upset about some stupid flowers? They would grow back; the Altus Plateau were full of them.' She furrowed and attempted to stared intensely back at him. Realising it failed judging from the look in his golden eyes, she instead tried to prevent herself from laughing.
The Perfumer stared at Edla for a few minutes; as if contemplating over something. His golden orbs drifted down; shifting a bit he moved downwards, Edla tried to lean up to see where he was going however his hand forced her back down onto the dirt. "What are you planning on, funny man?" She slurred, squinting up at the sky when she felt her pants being removed.
A cold breeze hit her skin, as a response she pulled her legs closer to her. Goosebumps were beginning to show on her skin, and she threw her head to the side; "I am cold," she slurred with a whine though her body felt like she was burning - spurned on by his touch, which felt like wildfire on her skin. Trying to push him off with a naked foot proved futile, and she slumped together on the ground.
"Maybe if you touched me a bit more .... It makes me feel warm and nicceee," she dragged out the last part, hissing it through her teeth while smirking at her own words. It earned her a look of irritation from the man who flung her legs over his shoulders. "Mmmhm - much better," sighed Edla, her head lulled a bit. When she felt something warm and wet against her clit - she let out a startled yelp. The man let go of her hands to grab onto her legs when she started to kick and frail to get away. Her lower body was hovering a few inches above ground, and Edla began to giggle a little bit.
The giggling suddenly stopped when he began to twirl the tip of his tongue around her clit, drawing out a soft moan from her. Her hands gravitated down her stomach before moving up to the Perfumer's head; pale fingertips danced over the white garb - he had pulled some of it down to reveal his mouth. She opened her eye a bit to look at him; he had his eyes closed; dark eyebrows furrowed as if deeply focused on his work. Her hand slipped in between the layers of cloth; soft locks of hair could be felt beneath the garb.
His tongue was pushing her towards the edge fast - she had wanted to just lay there and enjoy the sun, lounging in its rays. Her arms fell into the grass, as she laid mewling and moaning. "Almost - almost ... Just...," she arched her spine, biting her lip when she felt the familiar feeling of an orgasm building closer and closer. When he moved his head away, she let out a loud groan of frustration.
Edla's legs dropped into the tall grass, leaving her shifting, grinding her legs together. Grumbling, she continued grinding her legs together to create fiction but eventually gave up. Sound of rustling caught her attention. She raised her head a bit to see but his hand forced her head back down. -'No moving' Okay she got the clue, and laid back down.
She was flopped onto her stomach and her lower body raised. Half laying - half sitting on her knees; another giggle escaped her mouth from the tickling of the grass against her face. The Perfumer's gloved hands pulled her closer; one hand forced her arms behind her back whilst the other held onto her hips. A moan rolled over her lips from a familiar feeling of stretching between her legs. He was big - although not as big as Oleg had been, he was big enough to make her feel stretched.
He forced the rest of his thick length into her; the head bumped against her cervix, and she flinched from the spark of pain shooting through her. She held her breath; waiting for him to move. A gloved hand snatched the hood off her head; twirling her hair around his hand and yanked her head up. The gloved hand forced some powder into her face, making her inhale some of it before pressing her head back into the dirt.
The effect was instant. Her head feeling cloudier than before - the earlier powder had already begun to wear off, however the new one enhanced the effect, sending her body into an overdrive. He began to move his hips; thrusting forward - at first lazily; gloved fingers dug into her ass whilst another set of fingers were pressing into her scalp. Edla was moaning whilst digging her fingers into the dirt beneath them. "Fuck--," she slurred and squeezed her eyes shut.
His length splitting her wide open; sending waves of heat through her body. Moaning and swearing, her body was pistolled back and forth as he picked up speed. His arms wrapped around her midsection, pulling her up so her head fell back onto his shoulder. Edla stared up into the blue sky - it was blurry. Her head felt as if spinning. She could hear his muffled groans into her ear, as their body moved in a rhythm together.
The smell of perfumes mixed with their combined sweat filled her nostrils. He pressed his head against the side of her head. The tassels hanging from his head ornament were slapping against her head. What was that strange sound she was hearing - was it her? She bit her lips. It did not last; he pried her mouth open with two large fingers; forcing one digit at the time into her mouth.
His fingers tasted of a mixture of leather and flowers. Trying not to gag, she faintly moaned around his fingers; her own hands fumbled to remove his arms to no avail. The Perfumer pressed her closer to him; ramming his length into her with such force it sent her arching forwards in pain. Her muffled moans and pleas spurned him on; his muffled groaning got louder and frequent.
He removed his fingers from her mouth; they travelled down her neck and snaked around her throat. Gasping for air, she took her hands behind her, gripping his sides. Her eyes rolled back into her skull, and a slurred unintelligible mess escaped her when everything blackened for her eyes. One final deep thrust sent them both over the edge, and she clawed the back of his head and then his hands. As a response, he tightened his grip and buried his nose into the crook of her neck.
The Perfumer kept rocking his hips, breathing ragged into her ear, pressing his covered lips against her jawline, whispering words of unknown meaning as if praising her. His arms loosened their grip around her and made her fall into the grass. She opened her eyes feebly; her entire body felt as if a boar had over run her. Her insides felt scrambled; something warm was leaking from between her legs.
Rolling onto her back, Edla breathed as if she had run a marathon. The effect of whatever he had forced her to inhale was slowly wearing off, but not enough for her to begin thinking clearly. The heaven was slowly spinning combined with the tickling sensation between her legs caused her to giggle. She could vaguely make out the figure of the Perfumer stand by her. He gripped a long-curved sword in his hand, raising it over his head.
A panic rose in her, and she fumbled to get her own dagger out of her belt - shaking her head feverishly. "No... No. Listen, can't we talk about this?" She slurred and raised her dagger. Squeezing her eyes shut, she raised her dagger up - ready to feel the pain of getting impaled by his sword; and to wake up again at the grace. Nothing came - she nervously opened one eye and looked. The Perfumer's golden eyes stared back at her before glancing at something in front of him, he backed away - turned around and moved swiftly away; as if hiding from something.
Edla sat up and put the knife away. "Hah... Ha.. okay..," she mumbled and struggled to get back onto her feet. She crawled all the way over to the ruins. She fought a bit to get on top of some ruins but eventual slumped together onto of a crumbled wall; taking deep breaths as she began to clean herself with a canteen of water and a rag.
It was until something exceptionally large suddenly yanked her off the ledge, causing her to cry out in fear. She landed on some mosh-covered stone slabs; grimaced from the pain. Her eyes glanced up to see a Omenkiller standing over her. "Oh... fuck...," she sighed and buried her head into a hand.
I had to kick a Perfumer around to see what eye colour they had. I stood there just eyeing its face with a telescope; "ah - golden-dark ish..," - I also kind of scouted around the area to proper figure out where the chapter was to take place; to help me get an idea. Back into the hole of embarrassment I go.
I forgot some paragraphs to the other text, I did re-read it though here and I thought: wait a minute, so there is some more text on chapter two - just some paragraphs
It took me a while to get this one done - so I finished it today after having let the start sit for months or so? I am trying to get back into writing again, so yep, here we are again.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
"Oh fuck," she sighed and burying her head into a hand, digging her nails into her scalp. Her entire body was screaming from the pain that began to throb between her legs. Raising her gaze from her hand, she stared straight into the eye sockets of the Omenkiller's mask. Cold, emotionless .... If he even had eyes.
Edla tried to pull her leg to herself to no avail. He did not let go of her, instead his hand wandered up and gripped her waist. "Let go of me!" She screamed and began to try pry open his hand by force, tearing at it. The impact of her hitting the crumbled wall of the ruin knocked the air out of her lungs and she let out another scream.
"I said let go of me," she squealed; trying to kick the Omenkiller instead. Gritting her teeth, she stared into the empty sockets of the mask, leaning forward; "I am going to kill you," she whispered and dug her fingers into his gloved hand.
Her attempt to be intimidating was more embarrassing than scary. He on the other hand, simply tilting his head to the side, as if examining her - sent chills down her back. When he leant closer to her, a warm breath hit her cheek, and she instinctively drew her head back. The golden chain around his neck jangled as he moved.
The loud thump and crackle of the heavy clear hit the rocks, rolling into the tall grass made her let out shriek of terror. Trying to kick herself free, her naked feet hit against his golden apron. Neither that had any effect on him. With his now free hand, he grasped onto her waist; she became limp in his hands and was half expecting that she would wake up by the bonfire by now.
Swallowing a lump of spit, Edla felt the cold nose of the steel mask hover over her skin - occasionally touching her. 'Wait ... Is he sniffing me? Are you serious.' Her eyes popped open, and she forced herself back against the wall, trying with all the strength in her body to create a distance between him and her.
The heavy smell of perfume, herbs and flowers filled her nostrils, for a moment her fight-and-fear part kicked in, and she twisted and turned, thinking he was going to do the same trick as the first guy.
By now, she already knew what was going to happen - mentally bracing herself, she tried to avoid looking into the black eye sockets of the mask. When nothing seemed to happen, Edla turned her head a bit to look at him. Idly, he caressed her sides with his thick leather covered thumbs.
It seemed that they both were waiting for something. Him for what, she had no clue about - she only knew that she was not go down without a fight. With the rush of newfound courage, she grabbed the horns of the mask, she twisted and jerked them - his head jerked forcefully as she did. A deep snarl rolled out through the smirking gap in the mask, followed by an exasperated noise.
"Oh no - I am tired of being subjected to your manhandling," she kept jerking and tossing his head around, and she could swear that she saw a pair of golden orbs stare infuriated at her from the mask sockets. A gloved hand snatched her wrists and held her arms over her head. As if saying 'I had enough of that,' he began to fumble with something beneath the golden embroidered apron.
As quickly as it had arisen, as quickly the newfound courage vaporised. She watched as he forcefully swung her legs around his waist with one hand. The other hand had stopped its work underneath the apron and was now fiddling with some of the brown pouches hanging from the rope belt tied around his stomach.
She arched her spine, turning her head away when he held one up to her nose; forcing her to inhale the powder. The world began to swim and become blurry. Thinking, she had stopped trying to fight back, he let go of her wrist and instead gripped her hips.
"What is it with you perfumers and needing aromatics... Do you like doubt yourselves or something?" She felt his eyes snap up and glance at her in disbelief and confusion. Her speech grew slurred, and her body was getting limper. Though despite that, her hands fumbled - hitting his shoulders then the mask, pushing his head back a bit - he tried to swat her hands away, but she clung to the horns of the mask. This time tighter than earlier.
Edla's grip was threatening to slip, and she leant forward; causing him to lean backwards, still holding onto her hips. "Ohhh - the tables have turned, huh?" She blathered, ignoring the poking feeling between her legs.
It was only when he pushed his length up into her, that she withdrew - pulling his head along by the horns - and a 'ooo' sound escaped her. Her eyes widened at the shearing pain that shot through her.
He was bigger than the perfumer - much thicker and longer too. The pain lasted for a little before it was slowly replaced by a sense of floating. Her arms fell and hung drooped over his shoulders; she rested her head against his; their bodies moved in a steady pace together. Slowly, the Omenkiller thrusted his hips upwards, his gloved fingers dug into her naked skin. His length's thickness forced the cum from the perfumer out; making it trickle out of her with every deep thrust. Beads of their mixed fluid seeped down his length and dripped onto the rocks beneath them.
Whatever mixture he had forced into her made her grow wetter, and she let out a whimper when he picked up speed. It had not been the same mixture as the perfumer's. It made her less giggly.
The golden chain around his neck slapped against her naked skin and she swore that she could make out gasps and groans coming from the mask. When she clamped down around his cock, a smirk grew on her lips from the sudden fumbling of his hands and the sharp intake of air she heard coming from the mask.
A gloved hand caught her throat and shoved her head back against the wall. She gulped when she was forced to inhale another round of aromatics - this time it made her entire body tickle and prompting Edla to let out a mix of a giggle and a moan. "Harder," she gasped when a rush of heat ran through her. She needed him - now.
So many feelings bubbled up in her; something her mind screamed for her to jerk his head away or bite his hand. However, a much darker thought made its presence known. No - she wanted close to him and feel him.
When he released his grip on her throat to instead grab her hip again, enabling her to gasp for air. She clawed at the gold embroidered apron - it was in the way. 'Get rid of it, damn it,' she thought, as she continued to tear at it, trying to get access to his chest; a few clicks were heard, and the apron was flung down onto the cleaver.
Edla sighed with relief as she ran her hands down his chest and going even further by sliding them underneath the cloak; seeking any gaps in his clothes for her to slip her hands through. As her fingers ran over his chest and shoulders, she could make out his frame. Her long fingers could feel the muscles underneath his clothes. Every flex and tensing of his muscles as he thrust into her.
Resting her head onto his shoulder, she stared into his neck; similar to the perfumer - he smelt like herbs, perfume and flowers - though the heavy smell of sweat lingered. The overwhelming smell made her legs tightened around his waist, and she pushed down to get more of him inside. Her chest felt fluffy and light, closing her eyes and listening to the wet sounds coming from him fucking her and the faint muffled sounds originating from beneath the mask. The aromatics still strong in her system; making her head feel heavier and fuzzy.
"Come on, take me," she tilted her head up, just enough for her to whisper into his ear. "Is this the best you got?" Continued Edla, clasping a handful of his golden cloaked on his back with one hand whilst the other held onto a horn sprouting from the mask. Spurred on by her taunting, he slammed her up against the wall and began to pound her up against it - drawing out a shriek and a loud bubbly laughter from her. He raised her legs, spreading them out so he could get closer to her.
Muffled groans and huffs sounded from the mask; feeling more braver now seeing how he responded to her taunting, she purred into his ear; "Getting tired already?" Edla slipped a hand underneath the scarf covering his throat. The tips of her fingers could feel his skin - it felt as if he was burning up. Hesitantly, she buried her head into the scarf. Gripping his cloth tunic with both hands this time.
His breathing was shaky and trembling; him growing more frantic as he crept closer to his own edge, manifested in him pushing his body against her. One hand pressed against the stonewall behind her, her now free leg wrapped back around his waist.
Letting out a whimper - louder this time - when he was pushing her closer to the edge. "So close - more," she whined, squeezing him closer. He responded in an unknown language; his voice sounded as if coming out through gritted teeth. The words came out scrambled and stuttering.
When he came, his entire body shook, and he let out raspy moan. His grip around her thigh threatened to slip and he struggled to hold onto her. She clung to him with both her arms when she finally was pushed over the edge. Riding through the waves, she buried her head into his chest - trying to muffle herself.
After a bit, the Omenkiller untangled himself from her and she was forcefully dropped onto the ground, not as elegantly as the perfumer. No kisses, no cuddling, or words of endearment. Edla pushed herself up, pulling her legs close to her body, glancing up on the Omenkiller with a weary and exhausted look. She was in between the effect of the aromatics fading and being in the bliss of the afterglow.
He towered over her; breathing heavily - his fingers fumbled to tuck himself back into his trousers. Without the apron, he looked off with the black tunic ruffled, and slightly dirty from their fluids. Glancing down on her, he curled his hands into fists. She parted her lips as if to say something but changed her mind when he did not make a move.
She should at least praise herself lucky that he had not immediately picked up the cleaver and swung it at her. Startled, she withdrew when he crouched down in front of her. What was he planning on? Her eyes darted from his fists to the smirking mask then over to the cleaver. He cupped her chin and held her head still. His chest rose and sank heavily as he was coming down from his own afterglow.
Edla glanced back on the mask. Neither made a move; waiting for the other to make the first move. Blaming it on the aftereffects of whatever drug he had forced on her and partially on the afterglow from her orgasm. She, hesitantly, took her hands on either side of the mask; pushing it up enough to reveal the face beneath it. When he did not budge, she got a bit more courageous. Closing her eyes shut - not wanting to see what was underneath; she quickly snatched a kiss from the Omenkiller - too scared to even let herself properly kiss him.
He felt soft when their lips met - a bit itchy too - for a passing moment, she thought that she had felt him return the kiss - he withdrew, the mask slipping back into place before she even could catch a glimpse of what was underneath it. He reached down for his belt and apron. Once he had put them back on, he picked up his cleaver and turned to move away.
Halting for a moment, he turned to look at Edla who had manage to get back on her feet, leaning up against the stone wall for support. "Changed your mind - going to finish me off?" She said cautiously - eyeing him cautious in case she had to try dodge. Instead of receiving a cleaver swing that would have sliced through her without armour, she was covered with his cloak, it felt smooth and soft against her skin.
Confused and taken back, she wrapped herself in it and blinked with her eyes, looking up to look at him. However, he had already disappeared.
It wasn't as good as the previous ones - though I got some more characters I want to write about and experiment with my writing.
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40,913,592
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Elden Ring - Tale
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['VGW_Jack']
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Explicit
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F/M
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Elden Ring (Video Game)
| "Ranni the Witch/Tarnished (Elden Ring), Melina & Tarnished (Elden Ring), Millicent & Tarnished (Eld(...TRUNCATED)
| "Tarnished (Elden Ring), Ranni the Witch (Elden Ring), Melina (Elden Ring), Millicent (Elden Ring), (...TRUNCATED)
| "Blood and Violence, Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Suicidal Thoughts, I(...TRUNCATED)
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English
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2022-08-09
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Completed
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2022-08-09
| 40,123
|
16/16
| 1
| 74
| 6
| 3,048
| "['heraldmage8013', 'Ulcuran', 'Cesar_fac', 'BansheeBones', 'TheWastelander', 'SpeedyRogue', 'Annehe(...TRUNCATED)
|
[]
| "The Tarnished's first meeting with Melina and his journey through Stormveil.\n\n\n (See th(...TRUNCATED)
|
38,059,021
|
Elden Ring NSFW Alphabets
|
['lonvely']
|
Explicit
|
F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
|
Elden Ring (Video Game)
| "White-Faced Varre (Elden Ring)/Reader, Blaidd the Half-Wolf (Elden Ring)/Reader, Godrick the Grafte(...TRUNCATED)
| "White-Faced Varre (Elden Ring), Blaidd the Half-Wolf (Elden Ring), Blaidd (Elden Ring), Godrick the(...TRUNCATED)
| "No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, //more horny headcanons, //no one look at me i (...TRUNCATED)
|
English
|
2022-03-30
|
Completed
|
2022-07-03
| 5,353
|
5/5
| 8
| 271
| 15
| 9,581
| "['lucyabadeer', 'I_dont_kn0w', 'WhiteFedora', 'boobamilktea', 'victorianmangle', 'souichisbelovedpe(...TRUNCATED)
|
[]
| "tumblr: 1mxg1ne\n\nA = Aftercare (What they're like after sex): he is very soft and nothing but dil(...TRUNCATED)
|
38,133,865
|
Wear my (Elden-) ring
|
['Ren_Saxon']
|
Mature
|
M/M
|
Persona 5
|
Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren
|
Akechi Goro, Kurusu Akira, Phantom Thieves of Hearts
| "Alternate Universe - Elden Ring AU, Elden Ring typical violence, Blood and Injury, Murder, Attempts(...TRUNCATED)
|
English
|
2022-04-03
|
Completed
|
2022-04-03
| 17,741
|
1/1
| 28
| 194
| 33
| 1,364
| "['verena_tarrant', 'neiji', 'buneeto', 'proofofjustice', 'Wynn', 'towerofthegods', 'berryblonde', '(...TRUNCATED)
|
[]
| "When Akira Kurusu awoke, the only thing he knew was his name and how to swing his dagger. Like an e(...TRUNCATED)
|
39,488,244
|
Reader x Elden Ring
|
['anon_c_writings']
|
Explicit
|
F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other
|
Elden Ring (Video Game), Furry (Fandom)
| "Melina (Elden Ring)/Reader, Ranni The Witch (Elden Ring)/Reader, Sorceress Sellen/Tarnished (Elden (...TRUNCATED)
| "Melina (Elden Ring), Ranni the Witch (Elden Ring), Sorceress Sellen (Elden Ring), Blaidd the Half-W(...TRUNCATED)
| "Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Sex Toys, Gay Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Lesbian Sex, Sex, El(...TRUNCATED)
|
English
|
2022-06-07
|
Updated
|
2022-09-21
| 26,957
|
16/?
| 37
| 196
| 17
| 18,958
| "['Ferseus', 'First_elden_lord', 'NekodaDrache', 'EZ_DragonSlayer_SSJ4KB', 'Morgann_LeFay', 'RcMmCr'(...TRUNCATED)
|
[]
| "The Tarnished, Y/N, made his way through the fields of expansive Limgrave. White Mask Varre had tol(...TRUNCATED)
|
38,850,870
|
[Elden Ring] Hacked Panties
|
['Umbrelloid']
|
Explicit
|
F/M
|
Elden Ring (Video Game)
| null |
Tarnished (Elden Ring), Melina (Elden Ring)
|
huge cock, Stomach Bulge
|
English
|
2022-05-07
|
Completed
|
2022-05-07
| 2,972
|
1/1
| 1
| 73
| 33
| 5,683
| "['DigiWrites', 'polonia98', 'BoyLurker', 'TheOneWayRoad', 'Noxim', 'FFS_Andy', 'Artificer_of_Fictio(...TRUNCATED)
|
[]
| " \n\n \n\n\"...Are you certain this is what you desire, dear Tarnished? This was not part of our ac(...TRUNCATED)
|
40,578,915
|
Julia Plays Elden Ring
|
['Nirianne']
|
Teen And Up Audiences
|
Gen
|
Beyblade, Bakuten Shoot Beyblade
| null |
Julia Fernandez
|
Humor, Comedy, Parody
|
English
|
2022-07-26
|
Completed
|
2022-07-26
| 1,179
|
1/1
| 1
| 1
| null | 15
|
['kuroinana']
|
[]
| "\nJulia was excited! Since arriving home, the orange-haired girl couldn't stop swooning over the ne(...TRUNCATED)
|
37,966,228
|
Elden Ring Art Dump
|
['Blue_Daddys_Girl']
|
General Audiences
|
Gen
|
Elden Ring (Video Game)
| "Blaidd the Half-Wolf & Maliketh the Black Blade (Elden Ring), Blaidd the Half-Wolf & Tarnished (Eld(...TRUNCATED)
|
Maliketh the Black Blade (Elden Ring), Tarnished (Elden Ring), Blaidd the Half-Wolf (Elden Ring)
| "Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hoodies, Cute, Fanart, Digital Art, Coffee, Give this pupper s(...TRUNCATED)
|
English
|
2022-03-26
|
Updated
|
2022-05-16
| 89
|
6/?
| 26
| 189
| 12
| 4,542
| "['nathalsss', 'CosmicCheetah', 'HappyJelly01', 'Fallenguardianangel7', 'luca_6_6_6', 'DinoDragon', (...TRUNCATED)
|
[]
| "\n\n\n\nOf course Maliketh actually has a whole collection of mugs. Beast Boss, I've been told, wou(...TRUNCATED)
|
End of preview. Expand
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