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chicxibalba · 1 month

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cool four knights of gwyn headcanons

the age of fire lasted for thousands of years. kingdoms rose and fell, people lived and died. the only constants were the lords, anor londo itself, and ultimately, each other.

the dragonslayer, ever the busybody, took great pride on his cooking. what began as a necessity for survival turned into a genuine passion. you will never see him with a smile, but you will see one close enough when he's taking care of you with a hot meal.

the hawkeye is almost totally singular in his kind. born from the archtrees themselves far to the north, he was always compelled to wear a mask of some kind. his faceless visage was unsightly and unsettling to newcomers, even in spite of his good heart.

the lord's blade was never quite normal, or not as normal as she wished she were. she is a habitual liar, seeding falsehoods on reflex. it's easier to dress up the truth, to sweeten it, to just not be yourself. she wishes she could be honest with those close to her. it's safer for them is she's not.

the humble knight, a medial born among mortals, was born well after the dragon wars. his colleagues would never let him forget this, even when he went on to slay dragons of his own. the knight would never feel completely appreciated in his time, at least, not until the Abyss began to eat him alive.

the dragon slayer lived to serve. he served the Firstborn, he served his Lord, he served his compatriots. he and the lord's blade had known each other for a long time, since before they were even knighted. they served together in the war, became intimate. he feels the worst about how he was unable to prevent what she's become.

the hawkeye never understood romance so well. call it a cultural dissonance, or something else, but the drive isn't there. he has those who his is close with, though, from the blacksmith to his fellow knights. he is happy to let one rest with him, lay on him, tell him about their day. he never touched them back, not with his giant hands. not unless they ask.

the lord's blade is well acquainted with pain. she was born into it, living by it, in the form of a thousand cuts, burns, tears. her skin is painted in them. pain is satisfying, pain is cathartic, pain is pleasure. pain means that she is doing well. one day it will conquer her, but until then her every ache is a badge of honor.

the knight had always found himself the subject of the attentions of the other three. how couldn't he be? he'd always had a certain heart about him that simmered their suspicion and distance into true appreciation, brought them closer to him and to each other. his jokes, his wisdom, his love. the world was lighter with him.

the dragonslayer has family out there--sisters, nephews, nieces. he isn't acquainted with any of them anymore, and lost track of them quite a while ago. some intermarried with humans, gave birth to children with stunted mortalities. he himself always wondered if he could be a father, and raise a child better than his own had. his vows forbid it, but if things were different, together with his companions...

the hawkeye was fascinated by faces. lordranian giants had faces: humans had faces; gods had faces. they had eyes, noses, mouths. they blinked, smiled, growled, flushed red, drained pale. there was a little envy there, in how the dragonslayer might kiss his hand, or the lord's blade might share with him a truly rare smile. in how the dear knight might share a cup of tea with him, and describe its flavor. the faces he wishes he could share back, he whittles into wood.

the lord's blade wants to give back. these people in her life, these rocks of hers among a morbid blur, are all she has. she doesn't know how to. she doesn't even know where to begin. she has to be invited into love, into intimacy, and gradually warmed to it, before she even thinks herself worthy of it. in the end, she barely makes it. it's worth it all the same.

the knight hid when he first began to fall sick. he hidea his cold shivers, his inky-black coughs, his violent panic attacks. he catches himself in the mirror one morning. he's pale, utterly ashen, out of breath from the lightest exertion. his hand lays over his heart--it's racing. that sullen green ring hugs his finger, the symbol of his covenant with the Serpent. they can't know what he's done. they can't know what he's sacrificed to do the good he's always wished to do. they can never know what New Londo took from him the night it fell, and what he took from it in turn. they would despise him. hate him. throw him out. and then, just like in the beginning, he would be nothing.

#“headcanons” is a strong word here #but i wanted to write thoughts #this is Polyamorous Knights btw #Ornstein is the anxious busy body father mother type who feels immense guilt for his friends' suffering #Gough is a little more at arms' length as a wise mentor type but GOD he just loves his favorite knights so so much #Ciaran is the disturbed and twisted killer who spends her entire life trying to deprogram herself as this mindless machine #and Artorias and his heart of gold. even for all his good intentions. is just as misguided as the rest #This is honestly more queerplatonic than anything else. no knight in their right mind thinks actual romance is possible #the fact is just that they are THIS close. and everything else doesn't matter. labels don't matter. they're just humble servants of Gwyn of #I've always always wanted to write about them. i will one day #dark souls #dragon slayer ornstein #lord's blade ciaran #knight artorias #hawkeye gough #headcanon

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puhpandas · 1 year

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Watch

(2,984 words)

Gregory dies saving the Pizzaplex from the virus. In return, Evan saves Gregory by giving him the gift of life. Evan is done with just watching. (warnings: major character (child) death (gregory), implied murder, implied stabbing, blood.

Evan had to go fight his Father on his own.

Vanessa had been too incapacitated. Too distraught to come along. She'd woken up not too long after Gregory had freed her, hair greasy and wirey and body weak, knees wobbly. It had only gotten worse after she'd seen the cost.

Theres nothing Evan could have helped with. All he could do is finish things.

His Father had gone down easily. Theres not much you can do as an animatronic on the brink of collapse, no matter how much of your virus is spread across the network. No matter how many brute machines you have at your command. Its hard to kill somebody whose already dead. To hurt somebody who isnt tangible.

All Evan had to do was call in a favor.

The amalgamation hadn't needed any more than a promise. It had thrown itself at his Father, giving itself up to secure that his Father is gone forever. For good.

Evan had promised to set the fire. He knows that Freddy has a lighter in his finger. He knows that his Father is stuck, and is at Evan's will.

Evan has the power to take the call, here. He can set the fire whenever he wants. He gets to choose when it all ends.

He hasn't, yet. He just needs to see Gregory again.

Vanessa has barely moved by the time Evan phases through floors, arriving back in Vannys old hideout. Shes sitting up, but unmoving. Before, her shoulders shook harshly with barely contained grief.

Now, it's like shes empty. Like there's nothing left of her.

After what was lost to free her, Evan understands why.

He can barely look, once he floats next to Vanessa. Gregory is right where Evan had left him, still laid flat on the linoleum tile under Vanessa's hunched form.

Shes almost curled around him, as if to protect him. He cant be protected much, anymore. But he deserves to have whats left of him taken care of.

It hurts so much more than the others when Evan forces himself to look. Nothings changed; Gregory is still unmoving, eyes open and unseeing. The knife is discarded to their left, tossed in some corner to rot.

The floor is a mess. Gregorys blood stains every crevice. His blue shirt is barely recognizable, violent rips and tears litter the area near his stomach, and blood stains the fabric a sickening black.

Evan stares at his face. It doesnt so much as twitch.

He knows better than to beg. He knows better than to hope, or plead, or wish.

He's dead. Evan knows. He's known this whole time. He knew when he'd gone off to fight his Father. To get revenge.

Gregory's dead.

It hurts so much more than the others.

Evan floats downwards, sitting by Gregory's body next to Vanessa as much as he can as a ghost. She doesn't seem to register that hes there, just staring blankly at Gregory. At the empty husk of the boy Evan had just begun to know.

Shes already expressed her grief. She'd yelled and screamed and sobbed when he'd still been alive, clinging to life by a thread, but despite Vanessa's attempts, he'd died in her arms.

They'd only shared little words before it was over.

They'd watched as the life left his eyes. Evan watched as Gregory went still in that way only dead people can. He'd watched as Vanessa fell apart.

It hurt so much more than the others.

He'd just been getting to know Gregory. He'd only scraped the surface. He'd only known Gregory for six hours, but he'd felt like he'd known him for a lifetime.

He'd just been getting to know him, and Evan had been planning to stick around. He'd been planning to follow Gregory. He'd been planning to take the one child who'd been brave enough, smart enough, to survive, and lead him to the source.

Hed been planning on finally doing something. He'd been planning on ending it all, and saving one child out of it. He'd been planning on being done with watching, and doing something about it. He'd tried to help the others, to guide them where it mattered, help them survive, but they'd been snuffed out before they could begin.

And all Evan could do is watch.

He's so tired of just watching.

"Gr-- Gree-- Gregory..." Freddys voice filters out of the watch, crackling and glitching. "Gregor-- ory-- Please tell me you are saf-- fe. I cannot re-- each you--"

Something snaps in Evan, at that. Freddy doesn't know. Freddy had tried so hard, like Evan had, to save someone. To save one person after so many were lost.

Evan has seen Freddy. Hes seen them all. Hes seen how they all wake up the next day horrified at the blood under their claws, and the memories of murdering burned into their code. Evan has seen how all Freddy's been able to do is watch as he's hijacked, unable to fight back, and forced to sit backseat in his own body.

This time had been different. Freddy had been spared. Freddy had fought for Gregory. Freddy didnt just watch this time.

Evan doesnt want to just watch anymore.

Evan's stomach burns, normally, his soul is cold, as lifeless ghosts are. Just a figment of who he used to be.

So unlike the chill hes used too, how unfeeling he usually is, warmth bursts in his stomach, at hot as fire, and it swirls. Unfurling and spreading.

It tingles, prickling and sharp, and to Evan, somehow, it feels like an invitation.

Evan had been the first. He'd been there for it all. He'd been there when Charlie had died. He'd been there when she had given life to the other children. He'd been there when they'd all lost their humanity. He'd been there for the first fire, the second, and soon, the third.

Evan had been the first.

His chest burns with intensity, hot and bubbling.

Gregory will be the last.

He welcomes it; the simmering feeling underneath the film of numbness. It claws to escape, and Evan let's it.

He curls inward, a burst of light shining from his body, and at its warmth, it's like Vanessa comes back to life. She jerks when a glow spreads across the room, twisting her neck to watch it with wide eyes.

He cups his hands gently, shutting his eyes and reaching inward.

The Remnant responds to him. It hears him. It hears his grief, his wishes, and his determination.

Like the others, Gregory never deserved to die. Like the others, he'd been lost to his Father. Like the others, he'd been lost to a long string of tragedy that began on the day Evan died.

His chest opens, a yellow, pinprick of light seeping out and into his hands.

Unlike the others, Gregory will be the last.

Evan holds the remnant gently as can be, and ignores the blatant emptiness inside of him. He ignores how much weaker he feels. He ignores how he essentially just halved his life force.

Instead, he offers the life to Gregory's body, like giving a gift.

It receives it.

The light seeps into Gregory's body, spreading across his injuries and soaking in. Light crawls across his skin, spiderwebbing and stitching skin and flesh together.

The light mends Gregory's body, fixing what had been broken.

Evan never thought that anything involved with his Father could be good. That it could help instead of hurt.

But when Vanessas lights up as Gregory's eyes ignite with life, all gifted by the warmth in Evan's soul, he thinks it's not the magic that's bad, but the man who wields it.

Its agonizing; waiting those few seconds for Gregory to wake up, but the shine that had re-entered his eyes only grows brighter when he gasps harshly, jerking to life.

With a cry of joy, Evan shoots forward, attempting a hug as much as he can as a ghost. At the same time, Vanessa sobs with barely contained relief and reaches out, pulling Gregory out of the puddle of his own blood and setting him gently against her chest.

Evan meets his eyes, and man, do they look exhausted, but they also look alive. Evan cant contain the grin on his face when Gregory's eyes dart to him, seeing but not. Hes still in that stage between floaty and aware, but Evan waits for him.

It only takes a moment for Gregory himself to understand, but then hes clutching back, breaths deep, life laced within every intake of air.

Vanessa is crying. Shoulder shaking sobs that leave tracks down the dirt and blood on her face, and snot smudged across her cheek.

He doesnt blame her. Evan feels more alive than he has in a long time.

"You--" Gregory rasps out before coughing, but despite the fact, it's the most beautiful sound Evan's heard in years. Compared to the last words Gregory spoke before now being goodbyes. "You saved me."

Evan knows that Gregory knows. He knows everything. When Evan shared a piece of himself with Gregory, it connected them. Their souls are entertwined, now.

Evan feels the remnants of true fear deep inside Gregory of truly dying. He feels the relief that its over. He feels the accomplishment that nobody else will be lost.

Evan knows Gregory knows his feelings, as well. Evan knows Gregory feels the grief for the others. He knows he feels the satisfaction of sending his Father back to Cassidy. He knows he feels the anger at being forced to observe for so long.

So Evan just nods, the permanent tears on his face growing thicker and inkier. "I did."

And it's as simple as that.

Gregorys tucked under Vanessa's chin, her stringy hair falling out of what used to be a ponytail. Shes still sobbing, and Evan doesnt think she'd be able to do much of anything right now.

That's okay. Evan knows Vanessa had cried for the others, too. He knows Vanessa had been horrified at the memories. He knows shed been lost for years.

"You're you?" Gregory asks, weak and thready. He brings up a shaky hand and sets it on Vanessa's arm. Shes still wearing the bunny suit; she hadn't had it in her to tear it off when the only thing shed been focused on was the kid who saved her dying in her arms.

All Vanessa does is nod, over and over, almost deliriously. "Yes--" She sobs. "Because-- Because of you."

And its right there that Evan let's himself relish in the fact that they're all here. After watching so much grief and tragedy take place, its finally over. Gregory saved them, and now Evan was able to save Gregory.

He laughs in delight, feeling more hope and warmth than he has in a long time.

Three victims sit in a circle, relieved and alive.

"Gr-r--" Gregory's watch sputters to life, staticky and warbling. "Gregory-- I'm so worried about yo-- you-- P-P-Please respo--"

Three sets of eyes blow open.

"Freddy!"

👻

Gregory and Evan had been alone together all night. Freddy wasnt able to follow them everywhere, and Gregory, with that determination that saved them that night, carried them far. Deep into the belly of the beast.

But its only when they finally haul themselves up when the clock gets a little too close to six, hop in Vanessa's car, and hightail it to her apartment that Gregory and Evan are alone again.

Vanessa, with a little more energy in her step, had followed through with her promise. Before they'd left, she said she would set the fire. All she wanted to do is take care of a few things. Freddy went along with her, wanting to collect his friends when they wake up free of the virus.

It's just the two of them, now. They're sitting (floating, in Evan's case) on Vanessa's couch, Gregory is eating some cereal, since its all Vanessa had on hand, and hes wearing one of Vanessa's too-big shirts when his had been too ruined to keep.

Theres some cartoon on the TV about a girl and a weird blue floating blob, but Evan isnt paying attention. Not when Gregory is staring at his bowl with furrowed brows, lost in thought.

Evan can tell he wants to say something, so he just sits patiently, and stays quiet when Gregory eventually starts opening and closing his mouth, trying to find the words.

"Evan--" Gregory begins eventually, and when Evan looks over, Gregory's looking at the carpet instead of him. "Um... can I ask you something?"

Evan nods. "Of course."

"Kay." Gregory responds, and then sighs, scratching the back of his neck and fiddling with the fold of fabric where his stomach is. "Uh... well..."

Evan stays silent, waiting for Gregory to gather his thoughts. Evan had hated it when people rushed him when he spoke while he was alive. He wasnt stupid, just nervous.

Eventually, Gregory throws his hands down and huffs, as if biting the bullet. He turns to Evan, looking him in the eyes as he asks, "Why did you save me?"

Evan blinks, and looks at Gregory, confused. They'd already communicated everything when Gregory woke up. "What do you mean?"

Gregory fidgets again, glancing to the side and looking frustrated. "Well-- I mean... just, why did you choose me?"

Evan furrows his brows. "Um... I dont understand."

Gregory growls, but Evan can sense it's not at him, just at Gregory's own scrambled thoughts. He rubs at his eyes, before, "I mean--!. eight other kids went missing before me."

Evan starts to get it. "Oh."

"Just... why did you save me?" Gregory asks again, a little more surely this time. "Like... you literally gave up half of your life force just so I wouldnt die. You met so many other kids that didnt make it... I... just want to know why you see me as so special to sacrifice for."

Evan shakes his head, twisting in place to better face Gregory. He tries to convey so much in one motion, his brain swirling with thoughts, and remnants of feeling from past memories.

"Gregory..." Evan glances downward, an old feeling of grief coming back. It's his old friend at this point. "...Nobody deserved to die. Nobody. But... in a way, some of us didnt. I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I'm technically living, arent I?"

Gregory nods, but he looks confused. "Yeah, I would say so. But what does this have to do with what I said?"

Evan looks at the couch, watching as his fingers phase through the cushion. "I mean... the others, they died, but they didnt leave. They were still there, but... they weren't living. Bit by bit, they lost themselves, until they really were as good as dead."

Gregory is silent, so Evan continues. "I didnt feel like I was living for a long time, even though I technically wasnt dead. I had my friend. That's what we had that the others didnt. That's how we held on. But when she left... I had to stay for her to, as well, and I was stuck. I couldn't see my family. I was living, but I didnt want to be. I was living, but didnt have a life."

Evan glances up, and sees Gregory's own face looking back at him, eyes sad. Evan frowns, feeling decades of memories creep back up on him. He shoves them down. "All I did was watch tragedy and death occur for years, while I was alone. And I couldnt do a thing about it."

"You were done just watching." Gregory mumbles.

Evan nods. "...I was. So when you came along, and you survived, and dodged death, and saved everybody... you didnt deserve to die. More than the others. After all youd done, you deserved to live."

Theres a stretch of silence, after that. Evan has patience to spare, so when Gregory just stares, probably turning Evan's words over in his head, he waits.

After a while, Gregory tries to set a hand on Evan's shoulder, but it phases through. Gregory frowns, eyes downcast as he stares at his body dissipating at Gregory's touch, falling away like sand. "You havent felt alive in a long time, huh...?"

Theres that connection, again. Evan's gonna have to get used to this; he hasnt been connected to someone this way since Cassidy.

He nods, but in the melancholy, he smiles, and looks pointedly at Gregory. "Yeah," He agrees. "but that changed."

Gregory understands quickly. Evan pushed all of his feelings and earnesty towards that seemingly now permanent sense of Gregory presence, after all. He looks suprised, if his wide eyes are any indication, but then he finally sees the undeniable smile on Evans face, and Evan can sense that Gregory believes him.

Tears swim in Gregory's eyes, and he wipes at them half heartedly, grin on his face. He chuckles wetly. "Would you believe me if I said nobody has ever said something like that to me?"

Evan fractures, smiling. "Not really. I doubt you've met a lot of other dead people."

"Youd be right." Gregory replies. "Man, I wish I could hug you. It doesnt feel right just letting you sit there and be all... ghosty after saying something like that."

Evan chuckles at that, smile wide. "Put your arms around me."

Gregory raises a brow, but does it anyway.

It's funny. How Gregory, a boy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time saved the ones at the heart of the tragedy. He saved everyone without being involved himself, and Evan cant help but feel like Gregory saved him as well, in a way.

And Evan, who shuts his eyes and brings forth every ounce of power he has as a poltergeist, let's his body fall against another solid one, and sink into the hug.

ao3 link

#i kinda just wanted to explore evans character.#he isnt present in the day of security breach (he finally got some rest thank god)#but i imagine it would be even more miserable than before.#before #he had cassidy after a few years of being completely alone #but he had to watch the others become like animals #save for charlie.#now #he knows his family is dead #and that theyre waiting for him. but he has to stay tethered to the real world because of cassidy #shes determined to keep afton in hell #but when glitchtrap was created (its what we thought before ruin. w glitchtrap being afton but not actually him) he rained hell upon the pi #and hes forced to stay miserable and away from his family for her. plus he has to watch other children die without being able to do anythin #i just think it would be really awful. hes lost his tether #he probably felt empty for a long time. years and years. but then gregory comes along and he has somebody again :)#imagine 3 star fam happens as normal but now with evan!#he and gregory are soul bonded now and basically brothers lol. remnant brothers. golden duo just became golden triplets #flashlight duo #my fics #pandas writes #gregory and evan #evan afton #fnaf gregory #fnaf fic #blood warning #death warning #knife warning #stabbing warning #stabbing mention #implied death

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jasipereo · 4 months

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So. Who remembers “the art of catching smoke”

#liper #this is the liper fan litmus test #lpost #the liper fic of all liper fics if i say so myself #god rest her soul 😔

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cagedblocks · 1 year

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Tallulah has my heart. But I can’t decide on a design for her so I thought I’d let you guys help.!

Also mobile is fucked so sorry if my text here is fucked

Also two other possible designs was Ghostbur influence, Friend influence…. And a third maybe fridge influence (or Mumza to save myself.

Also they’re… somewhat dsmp inspired. But only because from how Wilbur was describing Quackity to Tallulah it seems like for a!Wilbur dsmp exists??? I guess? Idk

#caged art #qsmp #qsmp fanart #qsmp eggs #qsmp Tallulah #I might post the designs if I’d used Ghostbur or Friend or Mumza… or the fridge later? but these four are the ones I’m most fond of tbh #god rest her soul she isn’t going to make it </3

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araneitela · 4 months

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/breathes. This icon is called killme003.png for the sake of this post because honestly, where yesterday I was rather demotivated from writing up more meta, I woke up today with the strength of all Aeons in existence (and... not-so-in-existence-anymore) for intense research. So I put my thoughts through the sternest 'let's try to shake and shoot up the perspective/logic/theory' process that I could manage, and it's still standing. If anything, I'm more certain than I was yesterday or a week ago, that MHY is doing something substantial, and vastly nuanced with this damned character. I thought I had big-brain thoughts on/for Guizhong, but I don't know if those hold a candle to the ones I have for Kafka (actually, they really do). My issue with this lady in wine though, I don't know where to start writing it all down. It's like 10 messy whiteboards that are hypotheses on her trailer, the words she uses therein, "Don't be afraid, listen to me, wasn't it you, who invited me?", "Destiny has thousands of faces, why does it choose to wear this one?", "Stealing a glance?" during someone's final moments during her spirit whisper? Like, come on, you can't tell me she doesn't play into fate somehow beyond what we've all obviously gathered. You can't tell me that there isn't a more authentic face that has been staring right at us this entire time. She borderline if not directly says it right to us, but we're almost taught to not listen anymore, to think that there's more to something, but what if writers are using that against us, what if this is an instance where we should take words at direct face value? On top of everything else, of course. Fate is "inevitable" and right in front of us always, after all.

God, imagine a being tied so intricately woven into fate (vastly differently from Elio, mind you), speaking quotes upon quotes about the inevitability of fate, and being tied to nihilism, and yet firmly holding some sort of faith into choice, and hounds us on it. I mean come on, one of the main quotes in the entire story of HSR are her words: "When you have the chance to make a choice, make one that you know you won't regret." And she directly tells us in her own SQ, and it is a confirmed truth and not a lie, that Kafka herself does not believe destiny to be predetermined. Now to what capacity? We don't know. But the contrast of this, the rich nuance in this drives me insane. The duality of this woman, the spider (which itself is already a duality of a creature) and the butterfly (not necessarily as juxtaposed as one would believe, it all depends on perspective), the curiosity/fascination opposite her boredom, the ease of her killing which is reinforced with the emotional distance of her submachine guns, and yet she speaks how we should "let morality be our (your) guide", which fits perfectly alongside the decision of having her wield a katana, a blade that was worn by those following the highest code of honor? Speaking of emotional distance, the way she speaks of humans and humanity feels so distant, along with her talk of fragility. God, I just, want to shake HVY very firmly and fiercely. The fact that her eyes are highly likely to be concealed (hello, red), the fact that her voice is altered consistently, and yet we're shown the depth and warmth of her actual voice, and the empathy it holds consistently around primarily one person (almost two).

I love writing meta, but I don't know where to begin. I don't know where to start, but I'll get there. I just wanted to show how messy my mind is, I suppose. It makes perfect sense in my head, I've seen the dots, I've connected them, I see you MiHoYo, and you're giving me everything my brain needs in terms of latching my claws into something. But my god, where do I start writing it all down.

#[ ooc. ] don't try to make it logical or edit your soul according to the fashion. rather; follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.#[ /rests my fingers to my temples and applies pressure as if it'll give me all the answers. ]#[ i will get there. i wanted a challenge and i already knew i'd found one when i picked her up last year. but my god. ]#[ aeons give me strength to put all the stuff that's incredibly sensical and logical in my head-- to paper without it being nonsensical. ]#[ or appearing as such. ]#[ /wallows. ]#[ i should honestly have an early night and get up earlier-- i'll be gone throughout the afternoon so it'd be nice to have time... ]#[ in the morning. ]#[ or at least i believe it'll be in the afternoon. i'm gonna go sneak downstairs to check. ]#[ but hi welcome to another episode of sae losing her mind. ]#[ i'm getting one step closer to that looney bin every day. ]#[ meta. ] the mara's tether is firmly in her grasp. she will not pull upon it before the designated time; nor shall she relinquish it.#[ can i even tag it with this? no. but i'll do it any way for... reference i suppose. ]#[ any way-- GOODNIGHT LADIES AND GENTS. ]

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