#gregory finch

[decrepitdeer]

Would I sell my soul for a corn chip, just so I could experience this game again for the first time? I mean yeah??

[angrydreamertaco]

Do you think Dawn ever visited her father and little brothers graves like

On her birthdays

[birdifulhuman]

gregory from 'What Remains of Edith Finch' and Faroe from Malevolent are shaking hands.

[just-call-mefr1es]

Mate I tried lmao

He gets a toy duckie because there's no frog toy-

Anyways, I'll let you try and guess what the lil "special" thingys that I add are this time :3

(at least till I figure out what his "powers" can be because I forgor what i gave him ;-;)

awww the baby:(( (literallh lmao)

okeuokey so, the lil water droplet thingy in bis eye, and the blue on his face, probs from the drowning, and his green arm-hand cause of him shreking out💔

thats all my il brain can find rn, and also FROGGY ONESIE‼️‼️‼️ I NEED ME ONE OF THSOE‼️‼️

[mrsllyziy]

On Gregory's gameplay, when Kay appears for the second time, you can hear Sam and her talking for a looong time if u stay still, but you cant hear them properly bc the voices are kinda muffled

i heard smthing like ''Sam i dont want to talk to you'' but theres much more but i cant understand very well

this part >>

[alice-blogs-things]

It's been three years now since It's A Sin came out, and I'm once again thinking about Colin Morris-Jones. Who effectively moved to a different country to pursue a job he loved. Who was the first person out of the core five to lose someone to AIDS- his mentor, someone he trusted enough to come out to, who represented everything he wanted to have in adult life. Who started as an outsider, not connected to the other four at all really, but by the end was so loved by them all. Who was the only one who actually took Jill seriously in episode two, who actually tried to help her learn more about the epidemic and helped her find Gloria after he was taken back to Glasgow. Who lost his job because he was caught reading about AIDS and his boss wanted to get rid of him. Who just wanted a quiet life, but was denied even that. Who wanted to learn everything, but had the bad luck to never get that far.

[zer0cyanz]

Happy Birthday Gregory Finch!!^^ 🥳

12/01/1976

My math says you would have been 48 this year, it’s unfortunate things didn’t work out that way :((

[thewritersofdeceased]

The Stories From The Finches Theirselves

Chapter 1 : Starting From The Very Beginning.

She said to never come here. She didn’t want him here, that’s something the thirteen year old remembered how in the journal he’d been given at the age of seven. Even if it was more difficult to read whilst he was staying with someone he knew. Though Christopher Finch, the only alive known member of the Finch household went against his deceased mothers wishes. In his hand tightly was a key, and in the other was a journal. He had snuck off from the orphanage he remained in, having a backpack with clothes, a blanket, snacks and a couple bucks. In his right front pocket was a small pocket knife. Of course. He wouldn’t go walking the streets without some sort of weapon. A tired sigh escaped the boy as he soon began making his way towards what seemed to be an opening. Just amongst the trees, a building stood tall in the distance. A home. A place where people would feel safe. But based on his mothers stories? Maybe they didn’t feel safe at all being here. The rooms were closed, sealed shut with peepholes there. Screw it. Christopher took a breath in as he began to walk towards the house. The house that was thousands of feet above the sea that the thirteen year old could see. It was a long driveway, he took note of that. There was still mail in the mailbox as he noticed the house. This was HUGE! And that was coming from the kid himself.

“Jesus… is this where mom stayed?” He questioned aloud as he opened the mailbox. Most of these letters were from years ago, 2010. Hell, he didn’t know what day or whatever, but he did know that was a while ago. From 2017, when he was born, to now, 2030, he was only thirteen. And here the kid was, having hopped over a chain-linked fence, to go and find out his mothers stories and see if what she told him in that journal was real. Sure, he didn’t really know what had gone on in the house, but now it was his time to! To see what happened to the greater members of his family! As he pushed the gate and walked, there were two different ways. One to the left, one to the right.The right looked like there was less walking, more scenery. But either way, they both ended up going to the same place. The house. To Christopher, it was a gorgeous place. But he had to get here one way or another. A soft sigh escaped him as he walked amongst the forest, the atmosphere calming. He wondered how many times his great uncles would come out and try playing in the woods of any sort, seeing whatever animals they could see. His great-aunts, Barbara and Molly, seemed to be busy of some sort. He never got to meet them. Nor did his mother. That would change. At least Christopher thought. He let out a sigh as where a make-shift garage was in his sight. A truck was still there. An old truck that looked rundown. 

He wondered if the truck was supposed to be there. But it wasn’t exactly in his business to know, he couldn’t drive. “This place is ginormous..” He whispered under his breath as he looked towards the large house. It wasn’t broken, no, but it seemed decent looking from afar. So as Christopher stood a bit away from the steps, he took in a breath. This was all serious. He had to find out the truth himself. If his mother had, so can he! Just maybe, at least. Christopher looked around, his eyes landing on a pond just a little walk away from the house, mostly towards the right of it. He raised a brow in confusion, beginning to make his way over to it. In the water, there was what looked like a dragon. A fake dragon, but still. It looked like it was supposed to be a slide of some sort. A slide…? It had to have been built by whoever decided to build this house from the ground up. The thirteen year old hadn’t an idea in his head on who that was just yet. Searching his pockets, he took out the key that was left in his will, at least far as he remembered. “This has to go to the front… right?” His head tilted slightly as he looked towards the house once more, his expression remaining calm through his dark brown eyes. This was going to be one hell of an adventure. Making sure he didn’t fall into the water near the pond, he began to make his way towards the front door of the house, humming softly whatever tune he could overhear in his head. 

The wooden stairs below creaked as Christopher walked up to them, a hum escaping him as he looked up at the large exterior of the building. “Gotta do this. Gotta learn the stories.” He mumbled to himself as he tried the front door. Nothing. He raised his brow slightly, rather confused at the fact it didn’t work. “Hello?” He mumbled out, trying the key again. “Is this not the key to the front door?” He questioned aloud, talking to nobody in particular. Just to himself, so he thought. A deep sigh escaped as he leaned his head back in complaint. “Reaallllyyyy?? What other doors are there that this could unlock!?” He practically shouted, but it only echoed from where he stood. Until slowly, his attention went towards the side of the house. A garage. Garages have side doors. That was it! A small laugh escaped the dark brunette, almost redhead, as he began to make his way towards the garage. There had to be a side entrance, of course there had to be. As he made his way around, he took note of a hole in the gate. A confused look appeared as he eventually jogged over, standing on his tippy toes to see through the hole. There was a swing, well, was a swing. The swing was wrapped all the way around a tree. Had someone done the impossible trick? The trick of going all the way around the top of the swingset? Maybe that was it! It certainly appeared that way to Christopher. “Jesus… I hope they’re okay. That certainly can’t be safe…” He mumbled.

Taking a couple steps back towards the garage door once more, he stood in front of the side door, holding the key in his hands again. “Let’s hope you work now.” He mumbled under his breath as he began to try and use the key on the side door. Nothing. Again. “Really? Nothing!?” He shouted again, but he tried to figure out an idea. Looking down to his feet, god damn it. “I have to crawl…?” He mumbled, carefully going onto his knees. He’d be able to climb through the cat door, so long as he watched his head and knees. Letting out a groan of complaint, Christopher began to carefully climb through the cat door, eventually landing on his elbows and knees inside the garage. A soft “umph!” escaped him upon doing so, allowing him to finally stand up and look around the garage. “Woah…” The garage looked like your average garage. There was a car covered under a blue tarp, a couple of bikes hung up, even a little pool to the right just by the bikes! That was something he took notice of as he looked through the garage. The door was partially open, separating the house from the garage as he hummed in acknowledgment to his own thoughts. “Alright, Chris. Gotta’ get through this without crying once.” He spoke to himself as he pulled open the door. 

In his view was the kitchen. A bit messy, but when were kitchens not messy? He looked around, trying to decipher what had happened without reading his mothers journal. Of course, he had that for a reason, but it was more so he could read his family's history. A soft sigh escaped him as he looked around. The canary. That was where Uncle Lewis had worked, he remembered that when he had scanned through the journal upon getting that. It was said in the earlier pages that the cannery’s tuna was usually brought in order to take care of the cat, who remembered the name being Molly. Funny… he had a great, great aunt named Molly.. Or was it three greats? He didn’t know. It’d been a while since he read the journal his mother gave him. The house was a mess as far as the boy could see, walking around and looking through whatever could be seen. In the journal, he remembered only one place that would deliver to the Finch Household. It was a chinese place, he remembered his mother mentioning it, but he didn’t know the exact place. Besides the fact that a ton of empty tuna cans and empty chinese deliveries were now in the garbage. Maybe he could fix this place up. Make it so he and his buddies, if he made any, could maybe stay here. He’d explain the story. At least what he could remember. 

A small sigh escaped the brunette as he continued to walk around the lower floor of the building, looking around at everything. Packages with those pink peanuts all over the floor near the front door, the photos that lingered in the small hallway, the closed up library his mother mentioned with yet another peephole engraved in it, a bunch of things. The bottom floor was always so much more calming than the floors that began to build higher and higher in the house. Sure, the inside of the mansion-like home didn’t appear to be as huge as the outside, but it was still such a nice house. A house with a ton of different stories to it. The living room led to the outdoors, at least it had a gorgeous view of the outdoors. Christopher thought so, at least. But reading the journal and remembering the story of his great-great uncles hurt. Calvin and Gus’s stories hurt. As he walked through the tiny hallway, he paused right in front of the music box. “Sven made thi for..” He was trying to remember as a small sigh escaped him, himself pinching the bridge of his nose. “..Barbara?” He tried to remember, beginning to unwind the music box. He was right, as a figure of Barbara had begun to spin, and Bigfoot remained in the background. Of course. Barbara was the child star of the Finch family. Christopher remembered that. 

Who didn’t? Barbara was well known for her scream at a young age, but knowing she died young, not even in her twenties, was painful for Christopher to remember reading. Don’t get him starting on Gregory. Gregory’s story shattered his heart when he first read through it. As his mind wandered on and on, the music from the music box played with a relaxing sort of instrumental. He enjoyed it as he began to make his way up the stairs. He looked towards his left. Three doors, sealed shut. Though, that was from the stairs. Facing the hallway and still to the left was another room and a staircase. Down the hallway, Great-Grandfather Sam and Great-Grandfather Calvin’s room was to the left, sealed up. The blue and orange split in the door contrasted one another. How Calvin always wanted to fly, and Sam in the army. The door in the middle was the bathroom, and Christopher believed he knew what happened there. Then to the right, was Great-Great Grandmother Edie’s room. “So Grandma Dawn closed up all of the rooms… but Great-Great Grandmother Edie installed peepholes?” He questioned aloud to nobody in particular. Letting a hum escape him, he began to make his way to the opposite side of the hallway. To the left was Molly’s room, yet another room closed off and sealed from the viewing eye. All besides that peephole. To the right, far as Christopher remembered, had been Walter’s room. Yet it was open? Holding a confused look, he entered the room, looking at the wall with a raised brow. He liked the aquatic theme of it. As he looked around, what caught his eyes was a book? A book with a lock on it. Going to stand in front of it, he looked at the book, keeping his look of confusion. Searching inside his pocket for the key he carried with him through the house, he unlocked the book. “This is weird… But, that’s what our families known for.” He murmured aloud as he opened the book. What surprised him was a latch. “Why the hell-?” He continued to speak to himself, pulling the latch up. It led to a room? A hidden room, he’d think. Pulling himself up and crouching in order to not hit his head, the boy began to sneak through, looking around. “Milton” was signed under a couple drawings. Uncle Milton, he believed. He saw his uncle’s… memoir by his mothers grave. But there was no date of death. Just his birth year. Strange, he thought as he continued on his journey.

[stupidloafofbread]

So uh

Here's what I heard kay say during Gregory's story (first part?)

something something "Not so worried, no?"

"just. stop"?

"No"

"Please Sam.."

"You can't come home.."

"you always say that!"

"Sam..Please.."

"Stop it! just, Stop it!"

"No Sam, I know!"

That's all, for now

I genuinely wonder what they're talking about but my theory is probably Gregory or the divorce?

[high-quality-tiktoks]

the fact the letter is hastily scribbled onto divorce papers :(

[danielisanevenbiggerdumbass]

Arthur Lester 🤝 Kay Carlyle

[angrydreamertaco]

Also here's this

[darkcostco]

HOW DARE YOU HIDE THIS IN THE TAGS MAKE EVERYONE ELSE AS MISERABLE AS I AM

The water in what remains if Edith Finch actually represents isolation and loss and in this essay I will

[just-call-mefr1es]

I've decided something:

*insert drumroll-*

✨Frog Onesie!!✨

:3

awww thars so cuteeee🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽😭😭💞💞💞

[mrsllyziy]

Last year I created a WROEF Oc named Oliver (I even posted the drawing here I think) who was Sam and Kay's oldest kid. He passed away at 16, one year before Gus' death and it wasn't until someone asked me about it on Discord that I realized Sam and Kay must've had Oliver when they were just 15 years old.

I really wanted him to be Gus and Dawn's older sibling KILLING MYSELF

Why did they have to have Dawn at 18????????-

I better just forget I created him or make him Gus and Dawn's younger sibling but that wouldn't really make much sense k

I FORGOT THAT GREGORY EXISTS WHILE I WAS WRITING ALL OF THAT

NOOOOOOOOOOOIIOOO

he'll be like one year younger than Gus and will survive until around 16 - 18 years old, and then he'll pass away rip