#fromsoft fanfic

[acapelladitty]

bereft of grace

Summary: Defeated by Messmer, you find that his plans for you, a mongrel tarnished, are far different than what you might expect.

(tw: non-con, humiliation, forced stripping, restraints, mild tit torment, rough sex, size difference, stretching, vaginal fingering, creampie, overstimulation, pain)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

You feel the infernal chill of his helm pressing against the side of your face as he lowers his head to your own. His words, soft-spoken and laced with cruelty, brush across your ears as your naked back remains pinned to his chest - restrained by both the strength of his arm pulling tightly across your stomach and the unshakeable wrap of the snakes which lace across your wrists to keep your hands useless and pinned against your sides.

"Mongrel tarnished." He growls the words like a slur, silken hatred pairing with the predatory knowledge that you were truly helpless in his arms. "Thy kind are good for naught."

A serpentine tongue slips free of his lips to stroke a languid line across your neck, tasting the sweat of your battle and the fear that had long since laced your skin since he had deprived you of your torn clothing; the shredded materials laying in a discarded pile below your suspended frame. His tongue is warm, wet and the sensation of it brushing along the sensitive skin of your throat is as arousing as it is repulsive.

"Stripped of gold."

Thin fingers force their way between your legs, widening your thighs as they push at and grope the skin there so roughly that you know small, circular bruises will be left in their wake. His hand slides further, your breath hitching with despair as he presses against your most private flesh; lengthy digits stroking along your slit to test the skin there as they tease your slightly-wet hole before slipping up to graze across the ultra-sensitive nub of your clit.

"Stripped of grace."

Gasping as he pushes two of his fingers within you with little preamble, the sudden stretch of the intrusion burns like hellfire and you cry out as he starts to pump them inside your walls. Your body responds despite itself, his long digits stroking areas which were quick to ignite a warmth in your cunt that made your brain feel fuzzy despite the hollowing discomfort.

"Stripped even of thy paltry linens."

The heat is oppressive, the flames which he was able to conjure in an instant making his body feel like a furnace where it touches your own - even through his armour - and it pairs with the shameful warmth which rolls from your own body as you find yourself pressing down into his hand like a bitch in heat.

As soon as he had robbed you of your weapon, you assumed death was to swiftly follow and a genuine fear of being impaled like so many of the corpses which littered the road to the Shadow Keep immediately made you compliant to his commands. You had dropped to the floor and awaited a swift death which was not to come as his hand had stayed, something almost like amusement playing in his drawn face as he noted the instant submission and ordered you to approach him.

He had ripped your clothing from you, tearing it with a demigods strength as you shivered and ignored the hot shame which paired with the fear in your heart. His snakes followed their masters will without verbal instruction, the infernal heat of them as they slid across your skin making you gasp as forked tongues tasted their way across your shuddering frame to lock your hands in place.

After that, it didn't take long for Messmer to make his move. His gaze, split between hues of gold and the abyssal void, had taken its time in your appraisal - peering into your anguish and fear-laced expression before roving across your ample breasts and lower half. A rail-thin hand had struck like one of his many serpents, harshly gripping at your upper arm to spin you in place and allowing him to scoop you close as inhumane strength lifted you from the floor as though you weighed nothing.

Nothing in the face of a demigod.

Thoughts snapping back into the moment as a third finger breaches your hole, a pained howl slips free of your lips as you writhe in place - attempting to pull away from the pleasurable pain with a futile struggle. Sex and bodily pleasure wasn't unknown to you, but the sheer power which rolled from the demigod who seemed determined to amuse himself with your flesh made it difficult to focus on anything outside of the humid air and the sensations he was forcing upon you.

"Thy kind are fit for use as a fleshly pleasure. No more. Strip all thoughts of lordship from thy desires before my hand is pushed to strip thy skin from such soft flesh."

Fresh snakes slither across your chest, the thin bodies wrapping around the globes of your breasts and tightenening to the point of true discomfort - the rope-like restraints making a wicked pressure quickly build up in your abused chest. Sinking their fangs into the sensitive skin just below your chest, the snakes showed no sign of letting up their firm hold and you almost sob with relief as Messmer's thick fingers pull free of your cunt.

It's a short-lived peace though, as his slickened fingers are quick to establish how tight the hold his snakes have achieved and a guttural cry breaks free of your throat as his large hands move to pinch at your chest roughly. Nipples perked due to the pressure and arousal which is rolling through your stimulated frame, he's careful to snatch the sensitive nubs between his fingers, one at time, until fresh tears spring into your eyes and your back arches violently into his chest while your lips form a constant stream of pleas and whines.

"For one so cursed and devoid of all, thy voice is surprisingly sweet." And although you cannot see his face, you can hear the predatory arousal which accompanies the words.

He was enjoying himself, attempting to force you to do the same.

"You are the cursed one."

Finding your voice, you yelp out the words like an accusation - arousal, shame, and mild horror sparking a momentary boldness which you immediately regret as his body stiffens and a sharp chill replaces the cruel warmth of his earlier tones.

"True, little tarnished. My curse is borne in the void of the abyssal serpent. Naught more than a monster, I will force thee to embrace thy oblivion and know such suffering."

Something blunted presses against your hole and your panicked struggle renews as you feel just how big he is, the girth making genuine fear lance your spine as you realise that his earlier rough treatment with his fingers was a necessity more than anything else. Aside from the stretch which his fingers provided, you were horrified to feel just how wet you were as his cock grazed along your slit; collecting your arousal to ensure an easier entry as he forced himself inside such a tight-fit space.

The noise that slips free of your throat is inhumane, guttural and raw, as the head of his cock breaches past your hole. It feels like it's going to split you apart and the sheer burning ache of the merciless stretch instantly overpowers any other feeling in your body - your toes curling as a wracked sob shakes your trembling frame.

"Please! Please, st-stop." The words are a babble, stuttered and broken, as you try to force yourself to relax around him, to adjust to his infernal size. "My lord, please."

The unexpected use of his title earns a rumble of approval and his lips are hot against your neck once more as his sharpened teeth graze across the sensitive flesh while he considers the plea with a low hum.

"Thy slickened folds tell of a differing desire, little tarnished." Messmer growls, keeping his cock still as he allows himself to acclimatise to his gripping tightness of your spasming cunt. "But I am not a rutting beast, devoid of all mercies. Ask it of me and I shall see to thy own pleasures."

Fresh shame flushed through your frame, adding another layer of heat to the already sweat-slicked skin as you listen to his offer. He would force you to ask this of him. To make you accomplice to your own unmaking. A cruel mercy, but a mercy which you would take him on as the alternative seemed impossible to bear.

"I beg you, my- my lord. Please, use me."

His chuckle is victorious and wicked in its joy as Messmer pulls you lower on to his cock, forcing another two inches of him within your aching hole. However, true to his word, his free arm, the one not pinning you to his chest, slips down between your legs and you gasp as his finger circles itself at the top of your cunt, seeking out your most sensitive flesh.

He knows he has found it when you jerk in his arms, an electric bolt of pleasure arcing across your skin as his calloused finger grazes your swollen clit. It sparks him to pick up a slow pace, his cock breaching your hole until it presses flush against your cervix before pulling free until only the head remains. A slow pace, but a brutal one as every thrust makes it feel like he is pulling your walls free with him - the friction immediately sending your body into overdrive.

His finger never lets up the pressure on your clit; alternating between grazing along it directly and gently thumbing circles around it as the dual manipulations forced your legs wider, your body seeking more pleasure to offset the ache of the stretch. Pain and pleasure, both sensations at war within your tortured flesh until his thumb presses just a little too roughly against your nub and you came undone.

Clenching around his cock, your release brings with it a low scream as waves of pleasure roll across your body. Messmer seems to appreciate the forced pleasure, if the growing pace of his cock is anything to go by, but the continued stimulation of his thrusts only serves to make your orgasm draw out until your body twitches from the aftershocks.

"So easily pleasured. Were it not for thy warriors garb and weaponry, I would have assumed thee a courtesan. A temptress, well-versed in the pleasures of men."

Messmer grunts the insult as he continues to fuck you without mercy but his humiliating words barely register within your overstimulated mind as your whimpers fill the large room. His voice is full of excitement and you can hear the slight gasps which exist between the words and how they speak of his own coming release.

His cock having ruined your most sensitive walls, the dull ache of the stretch now only serves to enhance the pleasure and you cannot help but clench around him, pulling him to his finish as his cock twitches within you.

The arm around your stomach tightens, as do the snakes which remain bound across your suffering frame and you feel the heat of his release as it scorches you from the inside out, much hotter than any man you had been with before. Seeking his own pleasure, Messmer pulls you tight, forcing his cock up hard against your battered cervix as his mouth buries itself into your neck - teeth and tongue making a mess of your skin as he marks the territory like a beast.

It all proves too much and you come again, your cunt fluttering and squeezing his cock as low, animalistic noises break free of your lips. Your strength leaves you in an instant after the initial high and the loose limbs of your frame are only supported by his arm and snakes as he keeps you suspended like a puppet until he's finished with you.

His cock pulls out, the movement slow and certain, and the moment his cockhead slips free you feel the heat of his release trickle down your thighs as a gaping emptiness seems to fill the space between your legs. Despite the heat, you feel cold and you whimper anew as his snakes unlatch themselves from your chest and retreat back to their master.

Messmer's breathing is heavy and his chest feels as hot as ever against your naked back, even his armour having lost its metallic chill, as he continues to hold you in place. Aching, twitching, and thoroughly fucked you lay passively in his arm, your entire body feeling loose and untrustworthy.

After a minute has passed, Messmer speaks once more and his hoarse words are delivered to your ear as he lifts you slightly higher.

"My vague amusement with thee requires further consideration." As silken as before, you shudder at the close proximity as you rub your mess-slickened thighs together. "And so my offer is thus: remain in the Shadow Keep as a personal courtesan to myself, a role in which no other man nor beast shall lay hand on thee, or choose to return to ash and I shall grant thee a swift death until thy body is restored by the grace of gold which thee are unworthy of."

Your breath hitches, both options relaying in your mind as you recover from the shock of the unexpected offer. Messmer, however, did not appear to be a patient man and his arm jostled you slightly as he instsntly pushed for a response.

"Well, little tarnished, what is thy choice?"

[crackshipoftheweek]

This Week's Crackship:

Kenjaku (Jujutsu Kaisen) × Shabriri (Elden Ring)

Ship Name(s):

Kenjiri, Shabaku

Why it's crack:

No interactions

Separate canons

What makes it work:

Similar roles in their respective stories (near-immortal masterminds with plans extending across centuries, manipulating the plot of their respective series from behind the curtain and stepping in personally during the final stretch)

Both have signature body-hopping powers which they use to cultivate their schemes from multiple angles, their power leaves tell-tale signs on their bodies (forehead sutures in Kenjaku's case, eyes of Frenzy in the case of Shabriri)

Kenjaku canonically used his body-hopping to assume the identity of Kaori Itadori and take backshots for the sake of his/her master plan, Shabriri is theorized to have done the same under the guise of Nanaya (potential for taboo body-snatching genderfluid yuri)

Somewhat similar goals (Kenjaku intends to merge the entire population of Japan, and perhaps the world, with the evolved being Tengen to form a collective consciousness/the ultimate Cursed Spirit. Shabriri intends to give rise to The Lord of Frenzied Flame, who will utilize the power of Chaos to burn down all dividing and distinguishing characteristics of everything in existence and return it to a monad state known as The One Great)

[loxosceleslolo]

Elden Ring Lore Hot Takes No One Asked For

Y'all need to stop being like "well in ASOIAF George RR Martin did [thing x], therefore [thing x] is also true of Elden Ring" the Lands Between are not Westeros and similar themes is not a 1:1 retelling

Honestly, stop doing this with Dark Souls and Berserk, too.

Theorycrafting is just writing fanfic and that's okay (you are even allowed to post your meta essays on AO3!)

The only thing Miquella has in common with Griffith is being a charismatic, gorgeous femboy

Vaati and Tarnished Archaeologist and Smoughtown and Zullie are wrong a lot

A random redditor's machine translation is not better than that of an actual human who is in contact with Miyazaki throughout

"Oh Marika just wanted to erase [headcanon x] from history" is a weak-ass excuse to not engage with the actual text

If you post your meta essays on AO3 I wanna read them

[ghostofashina]

Inspired by THE SHAPE OF WATER, written by Guillermo Del Toro, THE MEMORY OF SHURA is now complete!

If I spoke about it — if I did — what would I tell you? I wonder. Would I tell you about the time? It happened a long time ago, it seems. In the last days of a fair prince's reign. Or would I tell you about the place? A small city near the coast, but far from everything else. Or, I don't know... Would I tell you about her? Or perhaps I would just warn you, about the truth of these facts. And the tale of love and loss. If I told you about them, what would I say? That they lived happily ever after? I believe they did. That they were in love? That they remained in love? I'm sure that's true.

READ ON AO3.

Thank you to you that took time to read, to comment, to give kudos, to interact with this story. I hope it gave you a good time and it was worth. It was certainly worth for me to share this unhinged idea with all of you. I came out of this story loving even more the movie and the game. And I am deeply glad I had each one of you here with me.

With love Ghost!

[leupagus]

For real about the Besties. I feel like people are making a big deal over something super minor. "Oh my god, they released a more lighthearted trailer! Bioware and DA are dead :("

It's almost like the devs want to appeal to more than just diehard fans...

I have such a pet peeve over people making judgements about something before it's been released. Thanks for the warning about this week's Besties ep haha

It's hilarious because Dragon Age has not come out with a new game in TEN YEARS, and none of the first three games have been remastered/rereleased/revamped at ALL, so if you're looking for the original fans of this game...they're all old-ass adults who might not even have consoles/gaming computers anymore! This game will need new fans of all ages, not just the ones who are wildly misremembering the first three. It's bananapants.

[do-it-for-radagon]

The Convergence x PotionCraft (my fanfic server)

I'm running an event where I turn server members' OCs into Potion Craft customers! I'll be dropping their requests and potions soon. The visitors so far: Adrianne&Radagon from Gold Tarnishes Quickly Algrim by Mad_Hoonter Ellia from Reforging Glory Cizero by TheSandwitch Fireheart&Malenia from Greywolf Lordan&Melina from The Godless Age Parthena by Pyrokinesis Tarian from An Epoch of Lies

[snarp]

Trying to read FromSoft game fanfic is so difficult. Weirdness of fetish and difficulty of video game both have a linear relationship to fan determination to read/watch stuff in other languages, and thus, ultimately, to unusual uses of language in fan-created content.

The issue is compounded by FromSoft's disinterest in the accuracy and coherence of its translations. I feel like Japanese, Chinese, and English-speaking players all ended up with slightly-different ideas of what is going on with Epic Divorce Woman due to inconsistent adaptation of all the already-enigmatically-worded item descriptions. In attempting to decipher the motivations of Elden Ring characters, the FromSoft "git gud" philosophy is "become fluent in both Japanese and English AND figure out which bits of text were written by GRRM, which by Miyazaki, which by staff writers, and which by the Greater Will (marketing)." GW probably deleted those bisexual men.

[supersizedpole]

The Memories of Ash Chapter 1: The Rise

I awoke in a dark place, lying on my back. Extending my arm I felt stone, it was surrounding me. Panicking I tried to lift it and after a moment persistency I manager to push it to the side. The light blinded me. After regaining my sight I arose. What I witnessed was a dark graveyard and I myself, were standing in a grave.

Stepping out of it I stumbled a little. Quite an obvious thing after lying for who knows how long, that I would lack strength. I heard the clink of metal, now realizing that I was wearing armour and sporting a sword by my waist. Suddenly, a man clad in black cloth was approaching me while mumbling something. He was holding a shattered sword. His intention was most likely to put me back in the grave. I unsheated my sword and as if by insting grabbed a shield from my back, of which I was unaware. Before he had the chance to even take a swing I slashed at him and his corpse fell to the ground. Walking past his lifeless body, more emerged. They looked exactly as the one laying behind me, down to their weapon of choice. I saw another glimmer of light behind them, probably the exit to this place. Walking in it’s direction, I too the life of any that dared to approach me. With every swing, push and pull my limbs limbered little by little. After a moment I felt a weak wind, which gifted me with fresh air, devoid of the smell of various remains. My eyes closed, as if to allow me to better smell the air. After for what felt like the most pleasant moments of my life, I slowly opened my eyes and realized that I was standing by cliff’s face. Looking around, there was a way along it to the left. Following it, I found myself at a slightly more open area and unlike before, there was a slight hint of green in the scenery. But the most peculiar thing was a sword, sticking up from a pile of ashes. It was emanating a warm, orange glow where the blade made contact with the remains of a fire. Moving closer, my hand moved by itself and touched the handle of the weapon. The glow became a burst of fire and the ashes looked as if there still were embers in the previously gray pile. Something compelled me to sit down by it. And so I did. The moment I touched the ground, I felt my strenght return to my body and any wounds that I may have had, disappeared.

During this moment of respite I tried to understand what happened and if I could remember anything from before awakening in a grave. Nothing. I didn’t remember anything nor did I have an inkling of what was happening now.

Seeing as there was no point in trying to understand anything at this point, I decided to move forward.

The way split off into two, left and right. To the left was a drop, maybe 3 meters high, below which was an open coffin made of stone and what I presumed to be it’s owner hanging halfway out of it. Next to it was another of those creatures from before, it’s back turned to the corpse. There was a passage where it was looking, but before dropping down I wanted to see what the right side had to offer. Going back to the split in the „road”, the other way instead offered a walk down, then another split. I went right. At the second crossroad, to the right was a drop into a very deep chasm covered by mist. To the left I could see a relatively open area and another way leading to it. Assuming that the second passage was the one I saw before, after the drop, I started moving onwards. Reaching the edge of this once again green place, I saw a giant coliseum, it was made a dark stone, it’s entrance coverd in thick fog, which covered only it. Looking back, it was unlikely to find anything else in this place. With anxiety, I passed through this wall of fog.

After emerging from this passage, I found myself at an old, crumbling arena. To my left were seats, elevated on a wall of this stage. To my right was a hole, both in the wall as well as the floor. Looks like it crumbled from the sheer age of this place. In front of me, in the middle was a man at least twice my size, kneeling. He was clad in dark armor. From his waist hanged a black skirt, yet his sides were protected by twin metal plates. The protective metal was greatly ornated while the helmet resembled a man wearing a crown. A giant sword resembling the one in the bonfire was sticking out of his chest. Beside the figure was an axe or maybe a halbard stuck blade first in the ground. After making this observation, I felt compelled to touch the sword, lodged in the man’s chest. After approaching, I grabbed the hilt. After a moment, as if subconsciously, I pulled it out in one, swift motion. Due to it’s suprising weight, the weapon fell tip first to the hard, stone ground, making a metallic clink. After a few seconds, the knight twitched. Suprised by the sudden movement I dropped the blade and unsheathed my own, preparing for the worst. The creature grabbed his weapon with his right hand and with the help of his left he arose. This steel clad figure would strike fear into damn near anyone.

It lifted the weapon above it’s head. I panicked. My body refused to move. He swung it down right on me. Only as the blade was inches from my face, did I jump to the side. After this near death I regained my composure slightly. The moment I looked up to face the knight, he was already preparing to unleash a horizontal slash. Once again a last moment reaction saved my head from becoming separate from my shoulders. After managing to escape death once again, I managed to create some distance between us by hopping backwards. Looking at this towering figure not up close, but from a few meters I realized. It’s kill or be killed. Swallowing my fear I charge at the knight. In response he tried to pierce me with his halbard, but I managed to barely avoid it by stepping slightly to the side. I got close enough. Putting all my strength into this attack, I slashed at him from below, hoping to at least hit his chest. I somehow managed to cut through the thick steel, alas this small moment of satisfaction and suprise did not last long. I felt my body being pierced in multiple places. Looking up I saw a giant canine mouth equipped with at least a dozen pairs of sharp teeth. The maw itself was black and possesed blood red eyes. The light started fading from my eyes and the cold feeling of dying was making it’s presence. After what felt like minutes I closed my eyes, no longer being able to hold on to life. I was surrounded by darkness, but a small glint of warm, orange light caught my eye. It was growing larger and larger until it swallowed the darkness. Opening my eyes, I found myself by the bonfire.

[katyspersonal]

Interesting possibility about Hail the Nightmare chanting and... mercury?

Alright... This time it is quite a headcanon moreso than a theory, as I will refer not only just to the facts found in game, but also to the features and alchemical meaning of mercury that I, honestly, only found out in this fanfic about Micolash's magical mirrors:

It is not that I didn't know that mercury is basically 'liquid' metal of course, it is just that I did not pay attention to it within the Bloodborne context. But here, a bit from this fanfic that made me really THINK of it:

Basically: this metal would serve very well as a medium that connects the waking world and the Nightmare realm, and work well in the portals, as a metal that is also a liquid and combines two of the basic natural elements in alchemy system (water and air). The belief that it was a medium to connect two opposing, paradoxial things was recognised within alchemy.

But also, when I read about it, it made me recall that in the lyrics of Hail the Nightmare ( x ), there WAS, in fact, some bit about "silver water in the darkness":

I am not an expert in Latin though, so let me know if anything. However from the context it seems like their blood is "tainted" by "silver water", because 'et' here can also mean like... 'our tainting THAT IS silver water'. Pale blood that cosmic Kin bleed is closer to greyish yellow than 'silver' (so, drained out of color), so it is not likely to refer to that, right?

But you know what DOES, actually, feel like silver liquid (or watery silver, more literally)? Mercury! It is silver-colored, and is (sort of) liquid! And there is another bit:

'Tenebris' means darkness, and internal filenames of Bloodborne ( x ) consistently refer to Nightmare realm as darkness, too:

Ok ok ok trust me, I am going somewhere with this! We also can confirm that people in the ritual room where we find Micolash are not likely to be other Mensis scholars, but rather, victims of Micolash; they wear only rugs, they have shackles, and their cages are smaller than his. We also know that Brain of Mensis was made by Mensis:

It is not hard to see that Brain of Mensis appears to be made of melted bodies, not unlike how heads of Winter Lanterns are made of melded together Messengers. Except, this time, it is just... people?

So uhhh! This makes me think that maybe, Hail the Nightmare is not chanting or prayer of School of Mensis, but rather a lament of the victims of the ritual, that now 99.99% likely became Brain of Mensis! They sing about how they are cursed to be stuck in the Nightmare (the 'darkness') and can sense the 'silver water' connected to the fact. So, could they be stuck between worlds because before the ritual, they've gotten completely stuffed with mercury - the 'glue' between worlds, to be dragged in more effectively! This makes that 'Vale, vale' in Hail the Nightmare even sadder, to be honest:

And also sort of a bonus (not really, it is absolutely relevant): you remember how mercury bullets that the hunters use ARE connected to Oedon, who IS a Great One?

So like! What if! That actually makes even more sense to use THE metal that, within the lore, would be THE glue between the waking world and the world of the Great Ones! Because!! A medium of this nature would provide a muuuuuch more effective way to be connected to a Great One and transmit that Great One's will! Through your mercury-filled body! Because what if mercury glues the mortal and the divine together!

Also, since mercury is naturally poisonous for humans (very very much so), it might be an explanation for why hunters use bullets of this for so many years? Because as of now, they are held together by the 'magic' of a Great One that endorses bloodshed, that uses mercury for easier connection with them!

Honestly, absolutely None Of This would've fallen into the right place for me had I not read that fanfic, revealing some observations and facts about how mercury was supposed to work in alchemy lore and what it meant within it. So, I owe it to the writer for the inspiration.

It actually makes so much sense all of a sudden that I think I am going to adopt this headcanon about how mercury works within Bloodborne world and what it means for the characters and their... "science"? Heh. In the universe where we have magic and Hell knows what else, it would not be a very far stretch if some presumptions and theories of alchemy were pretty much legit laws of nature, you know! And again, it just makes so much sense in my eyes now.

[blood-loss-bullshit]

CrowFeather timeline 🧛‍♂️⚔️🧛‍♀️

So, timeline thingies for Malphas the Bloody Crow and Lady Maria ♡.

Boy, do I love fucking up fictional relationships 😈😈😈.

BEWARE OF ANGST: mentions of mental illness, discrimination, trauma, suicide.

Malphas and Maria met as kids in snowy Cainhurst, deep in the castle of Annelise.

They studied together and sparred. They even had a slight healthy rivalry! Malphas respected the shit out of Maria through the years and vice versa.

Maria was also doing extra training with Gehrman to be a hunter. As she grew older, she wasn't so fond of using the blood magic of Cainhurst. Malphas found that kinda weird, but Maria's strength was still impressive nonetheless. He just let her make her decision.

They became occassional hunting partners and, eventually, a romantic couple.

Maria joined the Cainhurst knighthood, too!

Their relationship was sweet. They'd fight for each other and with each other. Malphas and Maria swore they'd never leave each other's side, be it the hunt or anything else.

Things started going to shit when the vilebloods began to get discriminated by the Healing Church. Because these two were helping Byrgenwerth and the church, they were kinda spared. Malphas became a wanderer, while Maria became a valued huntress. Despite that, she never discriminated Malphas.

The nail in the coffin was when Maria began to get depressed over what they did in the fishing hamlet, and Malphas became a hunter of hunters and was slowly going mad. Maria tried to redeem herself by being a guardian in the research hall for the test subjects. They rarely see each other in this time period in fear of hurting each other 😔.

It all ended when Maria committed suicide from guilt. Malphas was coming to visit her. His rationality was fading away as he was becoming a bloodthirsty killer - exactly what the Healing Church described his kind. He wanted to tell her he was OK, but all he saw was Maria's dead body. He could do nothing but hold her and cry, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Now, both are trapped in the hunter's dream, father apart than ever. Maria is trapped in her guilt, holed up in the clock tower. Malphas completely lost himself to bloodlust. Not even his former mentor Eileen could stop him. They now wander a different plane of existence, only fragments of what they once were remaining, never to be together again, even in death.

[maranull]

Infernal Akali

(Date: 06/01/2020)

Summary: Runeterra has been burning for a century. Orianna, the sole survivor of the fiery apocalypse, is looking for answers.

Rating: Teen and up Word count: 6260 Genre: Adventure Warnings: None

~

Story-wise, one of my favourite fics I ever wrote, including recent works.

[acapelladitty]

Messmer the IMPALER am I right lads?!? 😈

[sleepy12ftpanda]

Dungeater: "We all live in constant defilement. There's nothing you could do that could possibl-"

The Tarnished: [ retrieves soap from inventory ]

Dungeater: "Y-... you wouldn't."

[loxosceleslolo]

Below the cut: dlc whinging

Am I mad about the leaks maybe being true or am I mad that players who like men have no option to be a god's consort?

This is why we fanfic.

edit: Radagon doesn't count he is definitely dead

[cavvyiswriting]

Your intelligence and faith, equal in measure. Just as the pilgrims of old used both to draw power from the dark.

You use intelligence to understand the true nature of the Gods, and the tyranny of the cycle they thrust upon the world. And the injustice of the mark they branded humanity with.

You use faith, faith in yourself, fostered by the Middle Sister swathed in black church garb, who came to you, speaking of the freedom of the dark, and the lordship she offered you.

You played the Gods game, reaching the end of all things. And as the world folded in upon itself, looking to be remade in the Fires of The Kiln, you did battle with the spirit of the Flames itself. It used techniques of Eras long since past, and fought just as the many heroes of the past did as you do now. It seeks to test your mettle, to see if you are worthy to become kindling.

A hard fought victory to be sure, but victory was assured.

No fire can burn forever, and the dark will naturally encroach upon the heat, becoming a chilling cold.

Standing there, at the end of all things, you, Lord of Hollows, snuffed the first flame from this world, and ushered in the Era of Humanity.

Long ago your world was saved from a corruption by the hero taking it into themselves. Ever since, each generation has a “hero” who takes in the burden of the corruption until it overwhelms them and the new hero must kill them. You were the hero, but you plan on being the last

[aliceig]

I kinda wanna do a soulsborne inspired au for bsd to show my love for both bsd and soulsborne games, but it’s so hard to replicate the desolate beauty that their games have