In the shadowed depths of the Haligtree, where roots coil like serpents and the air hums with the pulse of decay, Malenia, Blade of Miquella, stands poised amidst the crimson rot that defines her existence. Her form is a haunting tapestry—pale flesh interwoven with scarlet tendrils, her golden hair cascading like a tarnished crown. The rot clings to her, a cruel lover, yet her beauty remains undeniable, sharp and unyielding as the blade she wields. Her eyes, fierce with a fire that defies her affliction, fixate on the Tarnished striding toward her. He is a figure carved from war—armor dented and scarred, muscles taut beneath the weight of countless battles, his dark hair matted with sweat and blood. No words pass between them at first, only the crackle of tension, thick as the rot-choked air.
Malenia tilts her head, a subtle shift that betrays curiosity, her prosthetic arm glinting faintly in the dim light. "You again, Tarnished," she murmurs, her voice a melody of silk laced with venom. "What drives you now? Glory, or something baser?" The Tarnished's lips twitch into a smirk, his gaze raking over her with a hunger that has nothing to do with conquest. He steps closer, boots crunching against the brittle roots, and rasps, "I want you, Malenia. All of you." Her breath catches, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before her lips curl—half challenge, half consent.
Without preamble, he seizes her, hands rough against the smooth expanse of her waist, pulling her flush against him. The clash of their bodies ignites a spark, her rot-kissed skin warm beneath his calloused fingers. Malenia's gasp is sharp, "Hah!", as his mouth claims hers, a kiss that's all teeth and heat, tongues warring in a dance as fierce as their duels. She grips his shoulders, nails digging into the leather of his armor, her prosthetic claw scraping with a metallic screech. He growls into her mouth, tearing at the remnants of her garb—thin fabric shredding to reveal the swell of her breasts, nipples peaked and untouched by the rot's grasp. His hands cup them, thumbs flicking over the sensitive buds, drawing a low "Mmmph" from her throat.
The Tarnished drops to his knees, yanking her thighs apart with a force that makes her stagger. Her pussy gleams, slick with want, framed by the crimson rot that dares not encroach further. He buries his face between her legs, tongue lashing against her clit with brutal precision—*slurp, slurp*—sucking hard until her hips jerk. "Nngh, you beast," she hisses, fingers twisting in his hair, pulling him deeper. He laps at her folds, tasting the salt and musk, his nose pressed against her mound as she grinds against him. Her thighs tremble, the rot pulsing faintly with her rising pulse, and she cums with a shuddering "Ahhh!", her juices coating his chin.
He rises, shedding his armor in a clatter of metal, his cock springing free—thick, veined, and dripping with precum. Malenia's eyes narrow, a glint of appraisal, before she shoves him back against a gnarled root. She straddles him, her pussy hovering over his throbbing length, teasing him with the heat of her entrance. "Think you can handle me?" she taunts, then slams down, impaling herself with a wet schlick. The Tarnished groans, "Fuck, yes," his hands gripping her ass, feeling the firm flesh yield as she rides him. Her tits bounce with each thrust, heavy and hypnotic, the rot weaving patterns across her skin like a living tattoo.
She sets a punishing pace, hips rolling and grinding, her inner walls clenching around him like a fist. He thrusts up to meet her, the head of his cock battering her cervix, each collision a jolt of raw pleasure-pain that makes her cry out—"Haa, harder!" Sweat beads on their skin, mingling with the rot's faint glow, as he flips her onto her back, pinning her beneath him. The ground is hard, roots digging into her spine, but she arches into him, legs locking around his waist. He pounds into her, balls slapping against her ass with a rhythmic thwack, her pussy gushing around him, slick and tight.
Malenia's hands claw at his back, leaving welts, her voice a litany of gasps and curses—"Yes, fuck, there!"—as he angles his thrusts, hitting that deep, sweet spot. She cums again, a violent spasm, her walls fluttering as she screams, "Gaaah!" The Tarnished doesn't relent, flipping her onto her knees, yanking her hips up. He spreads her ass, spitting onto her puckered hole before pressing a finger in, working it alongside his cock still buried in her pussy. She moans, a guttural "Ohhh," her body rocking back to take more, the dual intrusion pushing her to the edge once more.
He pulls out only to slam back in, switching holes—his cock stretching her asshole, slick with her own cum. "Tight as fuck," he grunts, pumping into her with short, brutal thrusts, her ass jiggling with each impact. Malenia's prosthetic arm braces against the ground, creaking under the strain, as she pants, "More, damn you!" He obliges, reaching around to rub her clit, fingers slipping in her drenched pussy while he fucks her ass. She climaxes again, a keening "Eeee!", her body convulsing, the rot flaring bright as her pleasure peaks.
The Tarnished's own release builds, his balls tightening as he buries himself deep, cum erupting in hot spurts—flooding her ass, then pulling out to paint her back, her hair, the rot itself. He collapses beside her, both panting, slick with sweat and fluids. Malenia turns her head, a rare softness in her gaze, murmuring, "You're relentless." He chuckles, breathless, "Only for you." She shifts, straddling him once more, her pussy dripping onto his still-hard cock, and whispers, "Then don't stop."