happy birthday Bloodborne!! some of my fan arts for today :) prints ✦ patreon    

Oh good hunter, what have become of us....

Painted in Photoshop. Time for spooky art.

I touched up my most poopular piece of fart. It's gherman from bloodborne!

Is it a nightmare or a dream?

Having a hard time finishing anything due to hand injury that my work won’t let me heal ;;

My recreation of the family guy meme with Gherman. I had to look up on how to disorient the first text. So, make a image 200x100, save as jpeg, then blow it up to 4000. Shrink it to 1000, guassian blur, then sharpen it.

Bloodborne headcanon / plot:

Micolash was born into a distinguished family, bred to be a true scholar. His family was friends with Laurence’s and they had idle sparks of passing fancies during their youth. They would soon fall out as Micolash’s acute delirium began, the over abundance of foggy imagery beginning to drive Micolash insane and, as such, drive his loved ones away from him as well. Except for one. While Laurence, ever the brittle, beloved coward turned his feathered head from the sight of Micolash’s peril, one admirer by the name of Damian would persist in his care of the decaying mind of Micolash.

Damian was a child when he met Micolash. Impoverished and hungered, contented to die on the muddied streets of Yharnam, seeking a peaceful end to his anguish. His mother died young. His father abandoned him. For what could he find purpose in his life? On a rainy day, apt for the dying state of Damian, Micolash would stumble upon the living-corpse and would goad the other, attempting to invoke humour or perhaps spite into the situation. Damian, scorned, would ignore the privileged young boy. Micolash would persist. He runs off to get bread as Damian lays in death, ready to be herded to a dream… Micolash would return and insistently force the other to eat. To live. To stay. Damian would refuse, blatantly, keeping his cracked lips clasped closed. The spoiled boy would not accept defeat. Eventually, Damian would eat, inspired by the tender way Micolash pulls Damian into an embrace, much taller than the other, having not been starved of such nutrients. Micolash asks Damian for his name. Damian has never been asked such a thing. He begins to cry, calling out his own name, sputtering from how dry his throat was. He wanted to live. Just a little longer … just to feel this embrace a bit more…

Laurence does not respond well to Damian and vice versa. They both tolerate each other’s presence with a salacious, brewing, embittered fury just so they may look upon the smile of Micolash, their dear friend. Micolash has a lovely smile. As radiant as the sun, they used to say… Damian was placed in Micolash’s residence, accepted into the fold of attendants and servants of the imposing manor. The manor rests in the countryside and it’s an unfamiliarity to Damian who was used to the trampling of horses and the shrewd barks of anger that the dogged denizens of Yharnam often yapped. When it’s dark, it’s quiet. It discomforts Damian. He seeks Micolash out. Micolash will form a leering sort-of fond look on his face. He’ll let Damian sneak under his covers and will idly delight in the quiet trust Damian displays when he snuggles into the lanky, scholarly boy’s form.

They go to school together, of course. By his insistence, Micolash’s parents whisk himself and his new companion to the school that Laurence’s father attends to. Laurence, Ludwig, Maria, Gherman, and many more attend this prestigious school and they all set their sights on Byrgenwerth, run by a kind man named Willem. To be called Master Willem, of course. As Laurence and Micolash drift apart, Laurence finds comfort in the tall, imposing figure of Ludwig. Strong and steadfast, tan face painted in a galaxy of harrowing freckles, Ludwig is picturesque of strength and illustrious love, kindled eyes never straying from kindness. They meet in coat closets and gardens and their love blossoms (with all the purposes to rot, in the future) and flourishes and nothing is more beautiful than the raven-haired, brittle visage of Laurence, long locks of liquorice hiding the kiss he delivers unto Ludwig’s lips. Micolash is happy for them. Damian looks at Micolash and stews, silently jealous of such a courtship. Was Micolash avoidant of his feelings on purpose? Or was he simply too passive in his advances? Either way, Damian would feel some of his love rot in his heart, as he watched Micolash, from farther than his mind could handle, something possessive beginning to take hold …

When Micolash comes back from the ocean, he’s not the same. Damian noticed it the first day; of course, everyone did as well. Micolash’s once perfumed gaze was blurred, eyes filled with a fluttery sorts of course, dead, looming looks. As if they had fogged up completely, blind … his hands would not stop shaking and he could not look someone in the eyes proper, merely keeping his gaze to the floor while muttering something that Damian could never quite hear… Micolash was not the only one to return in such an impoverished, odd state. Plenty of others that had been aboard the ship had matched Micolash’s colour of strange, some more so than others. Micolash would be the only one not sent (locked) away, at the insistence of Willem. His potential, was what Willem had said. Micolash is a budding rose. Roses come with thorns but that does not detract from their beauty.. right?

Micolash and the others had been at sea for 7 months. As such, quite a few changes had been instilled. Notably, plenty had dropped out and plenty of others had joined their ranks. Micolash and Gherman, both of whom had been on that voyage, slowly became rumours in those 7 months. Their faces faded from human memory. When they returned, the campus was irked by the sudden state of Micolash. They were disappointed. It starts like that, at least. Some of the younger students approach Micolash and Micolash’s kind nature had not died at sea. He attempted to answer inquiries of all sorts. The students found it funny how he stumbled over his words. But not funny as endearing but rather…

It starts off with someone tripping Micolash as he heads to the front of the classroom to start a presentation. Quiet laughter blooms in the room as Micolash, brittle, sweetened Micolash, crashes to the floor, looking miffed as to what happened. Damian stares at the (ugly) cute look on Micolash’s face. Confused. Humiliated. And slightly hurt. Damian finds it a bit funny. He put a hand over his mouth and snickered into his fingers, a bit ashamed and a bit amused. Micolash does not notice. Damian dares to laugh louder. Micolash gets up, brushes himself off and continues to walk. Someone kicks at the back of his heels, causing him to fall backwards this time. The class erupts in unbridled, animalistic, youthful laughter. Damian can’t help the way his smile reaches from cheek to cheek. He couldn’t help the bumbling laughter that spews from his cold lips. Really, he couldn’t… if you had saw Micolash, wouldn’t you laugh too? Look at his face! He’s crying! He’s crying! The class keeps laughing, the sound of the professor furiously demanding they quiet falling upon deaf ears. Micolash sits on the floor for a bit, dazed, acutely aware he is, at that moment, alone. Not entirely, something whispers in his head. He wants to rip it from beneath his skin. He gets up again. He walks forward. He falls.

How could he? How dare he? After all Micolash had done for him… he… Damian stares down at the bandaged figure of Micolash, the bruised thing hardly breathing. The students said it was an accident. Some students say he jumped. Damian stares at Micolash, face blank. Would he..? Some say he was pushed. Some say Micolash had slipped in a drunken stupor. Others say he was sleep-walking. Laurence is crying at Micolash’s bedside. Damian, pressed against the wall, can’t even muster a tear. Some say they saw someone push him. From the highest point of Byrgenwerth, Micolash did fall, in all the ways he could. Laurence bares an unsightly voice, sobbing girlishly, beautifully, as if acting out a somber role. He is not pretending. Ludwig sits beside Laurence, rubbing the shoulder of the wailing figure with a haunted look on his face. Laurence is pulled up beside Micolash on a wooden stool, head buried in his arms which are fitted onto Micolash’s brittle (starved) chest, hair interlocking between the sheets. Damian’s mouth is dry. Would he..? Damian looks at the peacefully dead look on Micolash’s face. Micolash does not look fretfully deluded. He does not look confused or kind. He looks eternally at peace. Like a corpse. Damian fancies it, a bit. Maybe it was a welcome change from the insanity that had begun to tarry Micolash’s features. The insanity that began to age his (dear) friend. Maybe this was alright. Micolash’s chest rises and drops, slow. Laurence cries harder. Damian feels the strangest tingle of a smile begin to build on his narrow face (this will be the first time Damian finds himself infatuated with something dying. It will not be the last.)

When Micolash recovers, the world is neither sympathetic or slow. He stares as the world goes by. Laurence visits often, he thinks. He can’t recall much from the time he had been healing. He remembers crying. Someone is apologizing to him… he can’t remember much of anything. He looks outside, watching the leaves fall. Snow begins to dust and line the decaying grass. By the time he heals, it is summer. It feels like days had gone by, his mind vacuous and quiet, occupied only by little, gentle whispers. Something that pulls him back home. To the ocean, it (or perhaps they) says. They miss him terribly. On the third day after he had been granted permission to return to his dreary dorm someone comes to visit him. It’s a younger student. A young lad with curly brown hair and warm eyes, not dissimilar to the colour of finely crafted beer. The student looks to Micolash, staring wordlessly (or perhaps helplessly) as the older student simply stares at the other, eyes a simple blank, knotted into a twisted empty. The student introduces himself. Micolash cannot remember his name. He will never remember the student, in the distant future, only a flurry of hushed whispers. “You’re Micolash, aren’t you? I.. I read some of your work. The stuff you’ve gotten written while on ya’ voyage.. no one read it proper, you know? It’s incredible, truly. I showed it to my friends! They were amazed.. you’ve got somethin’ special in that head of yours. Won’t you..” he does not look Micolash in the eyes. “Oh, won’t you teach us? Tell us more? About the ‘cean,” Micolash’s eyes widen. “About the little.. whisperin’ things you described! About the shapes..” like his suicide attempt, Micolash jumps into this newfound opportunity; with a smile on his face.

Damian is surprised to see Micolash in the library. Unofficially, Micolash had been deterred from his studies, Willem constantly putting off giving Micolash any work. Micolash was still fragile, Willem had intoned. Micolash’s parents wouldn’t like their boy going into so much work while ill, Willem had intoned. Micolash isn’t right, Willem had intoned. None dared question the headmaster, most who were privy to the halfhearted explanation having been entirely accepting of this situation, for Micolash’s sake or not. Laurence wished for Micolash to be safe. Ludwig felt uncomfortable looking at Micolash. Maria and Gherman both were disapproving, silently, stoically of the restrictions. Damian supposed he didn’t mind either way. Damian had drifted far from his friend, he supposed. Checking up, quietly, had become habitual. He was not stalking the other, he supposed. Speaking of the other.. Damian looks, a bit aghast at the sight. Micolash is standing on a table, surrounded by a flurry of students. Damian counts 36, the bushes of varieties of hair making it inconvenient to gauge how many were truly present. The students look enthralled, eyes sparkling, quietly, with a pursuing intrigue, gazes decorated with a befuddled, lustre of wonderment. Damian finds himself staring, blatantly, eyes wide. Micolash is enthusiastically weaving together all sorts of words and shapes and ideas and thoughts with his gingerly mouth, eyes radiant as the sun. So radiant it was blinding. Damian feels his eyes become murky with tears at the familiarity. Micolash dances along the table, describing something about a creature he was not quite familiar with. A slug of sorts. The students lean in closer. Damian is on his toes, peering close, venerable eyes stitching their gaze into the form of his muse. Micolash is beautiful, Damian thought. His heart twists with something horrible. Micolash is beautiful.

TO BE CONTINUED.

gherman for the character bingo

Despite being like one of the most important characters in Bloodborne, i actually don’t have much to say about this guy, probably because i spent more time talking to the doll lol

but! i do find his lore interesting, including some of the cut content where he talks a lot about Laurence. And also like many others, his lore with the doll and lady maria weirded me out quite a lot ngl, but i won’t go too much in depth with that atm (there are people who discuss it way better than i can hhh)

29 februarie: Sfinții Cuvioși Ioan Casian și Gherman din Dobrogea

Sfântul Cuvios Ioan Casian, Romanul, s-a născut în preajma anului 360, probabil în Sciția de Jos, în Dobrogea. Pioșii săi părinți creștini i-au dat o excelentă educație clasică și, de asemeni, l-au instruit în privința Sfintelor Scripturi și a vieții spirituale. https://www.diane.ro/2024/02/29-februarie-sfant-ioan-casian-gherman.html

chapter 6 of my micolash/afab hunter has been posted!

this one is an interlude, but I hope you enjoy it all the same if you read it :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39437763/chapters/99264600

I had a dream bloodborne 2 was announced except it was a brightly lit farming simulator and you had to protect your ranch from beasts

De Selby (Part 2) by Hozier from the album Unreal Unearth - Video directed by Wolf James, starring Domhnall Gleeson

"Why is it that cosmonauts always have girls (daughters)?"

"Maybe because girls are cool."

Most of the pioneering cosmonauts were parents of girls, so here are the proud dads (and mom) and their girls! Happy International Women's Day! 👩🏻‍🚀💐💫