bloodrosebriars

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what 3yrs hrt does to a mf

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/// I vanished because of college. I used my ounce of free time to draw some headcanons. Conjoined twins separated in infancy, the D twins don gnarly surgical scars that are woven in gold. They vaguely resemble centipedes... for no reason in particular... other than destiny, of course.

I post more artwork on my main blog @yucksoup , feel free to follow me there if that interests you.

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i just finished streaming ds1 for my partner (i did an alberich cosplay run ofc) and they had kept a running list of all the enemies/bosses that kicked his ass the most so uh

he cute wit it tho

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i can’t believe this ai loop still works fjfndjd

get him alb

radahn when you hop on your horse when he’s trying to phase transition:

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there can only be one

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partner has been streaming hades for me & i got inspired fnfndndn

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i lied one more

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one more😭

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actually i dont think i ever posted these either cndndm

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dumb idiot guy who serves the roundtable hold

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doodle of boi

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@izar-tarazed sent: 🎁(not specifying anything here, your choice entirely!)

from send me 🎁 for a christmas present from my muse [accepting!!]

"Oh, I'm an idiot."

Quite the statement in lieu of a greeting, but that sort of thing isn't exactly out of the ordinary for Alberich. Here he stands, having snuck his way up to the Roundtable's topmost floor quiet as death, not even the faint rattling of his glintstone-adorned accessories giving his position away 'til he stands right behind both Ensha and Izar — enough to startle them both, probably. But that also isn't very out of the ordinary for him.

Today, he is carrying a small parcel in his hands. It's an ugly little thing, really, parchment folded around whatever the object within is, with a ribbon tied quite dramatically around the whole of it, not doing much for keeping the mess together but certainly adding a bit of colour to the ordeal. The paper is already coming apart at its edges, giving a peek at something glittery and blue beneath.

Once he's caught the others' attention, Alberich laughs a bit to himself — some sort of inside joke for only him to know. He then remedies his introductory statement. "Well, okay, I'm actually not an idiot — not really. Despite what people think. I'm almost certain people think I’m an idiot — maybe I like it that way! — but it's not quite the case. Something for me to know, and for others to find out at the least opportune time possible. But! That is neither here nor there. I, ah, I just… well! I didn't expect to see the both of you up here, so I had only brought a gift for Izar. You are so damn hard to see, Ensha, it drives me up the damn wall. Not sorry, not really, but still."

A whole lot of blah, blah, blah… but regardless, he takes a few more steps forward, holding the parcel out for Izar. He had been fidgeting with it while he rambled, so even more of the paper has come undone by the time he has finished.

"A gift! For the season!" The grin he flashes after saying this is toothy and wide, not unlike a dog's submissive smile. Always a bit awkward with social customs, he then picks apart the paper to reveal what is underneath the hasty wrappings: it is a slate, hewn with deep letters, though it seems to have fallen victim to a vein of glintstone over the years. Glittering crystals of blue, white, and green dot its surface in pretty spatters and sharp edges. Still, much of the text can still be made out. It would appear to be some sort of nursery rhyme.

"I found it while searching Gelmir — quite out of the way for something of this sort, don't you think? The Lakes are typically the only spot to find glintstone veins and pretentious writings… not that I know what the hell it says, of course, but, you know. For your studies! Or perhaps just your shelves. I'm sure it must look pretty. The glintstone is blue, yes? It must be. I’d know if it was red, at least, and I don’t think it comes in many other colours. Anyway! Take it!"

He eagerly shoves the tablet into Izar's hands, then remembers Ensha once more — turns his focus slightly towards the strange man’s faint glow. Damn his bizarre, undead nature, for the Red Star does not often paint Ensha in Alberich's mind's eye with much light. He falls into the background noise of his visual scape, not unlike a tree or a box. Easy to forget the man is there.

"I'll have to get you next time, Enny," he says, giving a half-sincere bow of apology. "Unless you want the seashell I have in my pocket. It's got a nice texture. Assuming you can even feel something like that; I don't know how your hands work, bones and all. At the very least, it might make an interesting sound if you grind your fingertip against its edge."

Still babbling, as always… He laces his hands behind his back, proud of himself despite the awkwardness of this whole interaction, shifting his weight from his heels to his toes restlessly — heel to toe, heel to toe…

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doodle of a guy

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Send 🍁 + Any question you’ve been curious to know about my muse!

Could be absolutely anything. Don’t be shy!

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Recommend romantic candidates for my muses and see their reaction!

Note: They do not have to be ones my muses would like!

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About 𖤓 Rules 𖤓 Verses 𖤓 Art/Main Blog

Ask/Anons welcome. DMs open. I can also do RP via Discord.

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If only Ansbach were capable of being so straightforward with — so readily willing to accept — his own emotions as Lord Mohg.

Such is a skill he never quite learned, however. Being forced to mature at far too young an age, needing to remain distant from his person for the sake of survival, internal conflicts are something which Ansbach approaches with the detachment of an analyst more than anything. He does not know what he wants, nor what he is truly feeling. But he knows that, as Mohg sets him down, and speaks his own heart so earnestly, Ansbach feels a bit guilty. Does Mohg think he does not love him, because of his indecisiveness? If he does, would being decisive even help to fix that?

He is unsure. The art of affection is something he has not had the luxury of studying, not like the arts of detachment and war.

A beat.

Then, Ansbach places a hand upon Lord Mohg’s claws, holding his warm fingers closer to his shoulder. He looks up towards his Lord with great admiration. “I have not yet reciprocated,” he announces quite confidently, thoughts trailing back to how this conversation started. He taps two fingers to his bottom lip, then towards Mohg in turn.

Right. Of course. The mistletoe. He has yet to offer his Lord a kiss.

🌿 ANSBACH :)c

Send 🌿 to accidentally get caught under the mistletoe with my muse.

Pssh! Accidentally... There was nothing accidental about that, surely...!

He reached down, scooping the pureblood knight into his arms. He was taking a slow leisurely stride around his palace with Ansbach situated in the crook of his arm. Staring down at him, slowly blinking his eye.

He traced his fingers over the front of Ansbach's helmet, hopeful to receive permission.