#abysstained

[alldaddyarchive]

❝ That was said so horribly wrong but you sounded very cute while trying. A for effort. ❞

OBSCENELY DOMESTIC STARTERS.( A C C E P T I N G . )

                ❝ I know a dozen different languages and Turkish was not one I had expected to add to the list. ❞ The conversation was playful, the two of them sitting across from one another at the dining room table. Coffee was held in his hands, peering across the mahogany wood to the man opposite him, ❝ I’ll try again. ❞ It was then that older man cleared his throat, gaze lifting to the ceiling as he tried to have his lips form the proper shapes, ❝ O sabah bir orospu olarak Dredhwen uyandırmak etmeyin. ❞ A chuckle left his lips afterwards, the sentence broken and poorly spoken, but still amused him as the truth shone through.

[tanadhal]

abysstained liked your post

            strange. normally, you could tell a knight’s standard by their armour; the templar sword, the ferelden dog, orlais and their tits, for some reason. fenriel sees none of that here --- and really, there’s quite a bit of metal to emblazon.

             ❛ doesn’t that get heavy? ❜

[alldaddyarchive]

@abysstained liked for a shippy af starter.

                  Hands ran through the knight’s charcoal hair, soft and thick between his fingers. The misty shade of grey was covered as his eyes lids remained closed. The feel of Artorias’ head on Odin’s broad chest brought a sense of tranquility, only the sound of the wilderness surrounding them. No interruption could be foreseen, allowing the knight and the prince a sense of solitude and privacy. It was a bittersweet moment, one that he wished could last but flashes of duty and honour always seemed to intrude.                    Brows furrowed for a moment before letting his eyes open, seeing the sun peer through the treetops. Turning his head, he craned it down, placing a light kiss to the top of Artorias’ head, ❝ It’s past noon already... ❞ he murmured, reminded of the fact that it wouldn’t be long before people would begin to wonder where they were. Yes, they had ridden out much farther than intended, allowing them the peace and quiet they desired, and perhaps it would take his father’s men a while before the two of them were found, but a slight tension of anxiousness soon filled him.                     ❝ We should saddle the steeds. ❞

[jailbrcken-blog]

abysstained replied to your post:i just got like the weirdest influx of followers...

gently nests in ur hair

ilu road bb

[peculiarantithesis-archive-blog]

abysstained liked your post “Knight AU starter call”

“I have decided to reject Princess Gwynverie’s offer. I will stay here in Lordran, so my Lifehunt may serve Lord Gwyndolin.”

It had been only a few weeks since the Lord of Sunlight set off with his faithful knights to the Kiln of the First Flame, never to be seen again. Gwyndolin had offered to protect

Most of the gods were leaving, after Gwyn’s funeral had been hosted in the Darkmoon Tomb. Enough to pay respect to Gwyn’s life after his death, but not enough to look over that which he had created.

The Knights of Gwyn had, essentially, become a defunct organization. Gough’s combat prowess rejected by most fools for his blindness, Captain Ornstein opting to watch over the Cathedral with that horrid executioner (why one as noble as Ornstein would spend even a moment with Smough was beyond her, but she challenged not her Captain’s judgment), and Ciarin... she did not know where she had gone, but the Lords’ Blades too were disbanded.

Still, even if she had known it would end like this, she wouldn’t have given the time spent with them for the world.

“... And thou, Artorias? I have no doubt quite a few gods would give the world itself to have thy’s blade at their side,” she asked.

[crowgarb-blog]

▲!

@abysstained     //    send ▲ for random generated starter.the crow knits an ugly sweater and forces artorias to wear it.

‘  WEAR IT !  ‘      they don’t demand ; they scarcely demand  &  yet here they are. it strains vocal chords too stiff for their monotone. hurts very much   and  begs for imminence to crack their voice. 

 a need carves into the pit of their chest they don’t recognize nor know how to handle : care.    they’ve worked so hard on it !    within their gloved grasp is something barely passing for garment , stitched with clothing remnants of the deceased and abandoned ,  and they fervently wave around. plea hangs onto their words that make the crow childish.

‘ wear it. ‘

[hishunt-blog]

      ‘   i am sick of these dogs , but it appears i’m in constant company of one.  ‘         slick side-eyes    &    faux distaste adorning his words : the perfect concoction for a joke.     //      @abysstained​   ♡’d.

[peculiarantithesis-archive-blog]

things to imagine

Darkwraith Priscilla and Artorias having a longstanding antagonistic relationship prior to the Oolacile crisis

Priscilla taking extreme pleasure in seeing Artorias finally being corrupted by the Abyss 

Even greater pleasure in watching him be killed by the Chosen Undead and telling the Chosen Undead her only regret was she was that it wasn’t her Lifehunt that sealed the Abysswalker’s fate