#headless nameless

[nofatclips]

Ash Palace by Headless Nameless from the Artoffact Records 2021 sampler

[bornetoblood]

can you please draw uhm a large oracle envoy

i love these weird little guys

[gamchawizzy]

your headcanon design for a pre-horsefication Ludwig if you have one? Or perhaps Simon the harrowed?

I've always liked the idea that Ludwig is older than Laurence by a few years. Elongated face, silky hair, probably a crooked nose that he either got from the hunts. or maybe he fell off his horse once. either way it makes him look rather dashing

despite being good at rallying the townsfolk and the rest of his fellow hunters, he never really expresses any of his own interests or opinions in public, deferring to the church instead…

(Askbox is open for Bloodborne-related art requests throughout all of March! Patrons can request up to 2 prompts of any theme over at patreon . com/gamchawizzy)

[slipontheknot]

I need Ghost moots😔😔😔 please be my friend💔💔 (this is actually the most sane post I posted like ever)

[minimus-ambus]

i am literally BEGGING you to bring back the cuck rung fic i have been crying hysterically over it

ogh fuck i just realised i can't do anon here . Shite

ruining my already nonexistent reputation as a normal individual live here

Ahhh thank you! I'm very sorry, but I can't make any promises about writing more chapters for Cuck Rung—I still love Transformers, but I'm actually working on a novel these days, and most of my spare writing energy outside of that is going into JJBA fics. Still, it means a lot that you liked the fic so much you'd send an ask to me. If I'm ever struck by a good idea for a chapter, I'll write it up just for you. Thank you thank you <3

[meirimerens]

i literally have ZERO knowledge about pathologic but you've gotten me invested in these silly little people. I love seeing them and hearing you talk about them.

THE BRAIN POISON IT IS TAKING HOLD... TEEHEE GIGGLE..... that's how it fucking GETS you... thenk u for being here... hugging emoji

[rel124c41]

I know he’s only going to be a temporary character, much like Rollo, but in my heart, he’s a transfer student who is assigned to Ramshackle so we can dance among the graves there and I can giggle and kiss him all I want.

Also if I was in TWST and was walking around and saw him, I’d be so smitten IMMEDIATELY!!!!! Like Vil would immediately hate this guy just because of how fast I’d fall for him and how gorgeous he is and I’d start campaigns on how stunning and sweet he is.

cementary dates!!!!! cementary dates!!!! ( ★^O^★ )

bringing him to dine by the two graves in front of ramshackle, watching grim and zero play with one another. the night ambience of a full moon and ebony darkness,,, him lying his head in your lap as you read edgar allen poe,,, threading fingers through his hair but watching out for the crown piece which is sharp like barb wire,,

perhaps him taking the book from you and reading it himself, all while standing on the crescent stone wall, very melodramatic and rich as he reads ‘the conqueror worm’ aloud,,, aaah i need to know who will voice him (ﾉ∀`♥) i hope the VA has a lovely singing voice it’s only natural

even if he’s not a transfer student …. indulge in this little fantasy,, so u know how jack skellington can take off his head in the film, imagine that with this TWST character. a whole lollipop chainsaw dynamic!!! he’s just so anxious and intrigued to see what this new world has to offer him!!! he’s never been outside of halloween town and this all so very exciting!! won’t you let him just attend a few classes with you!! pls,,, i’m imagining keeping his head in a school bag as his headless body wanders around ramshackle,,

he also has great yandere potential outside of silly fluff scenarios too!! jack skellington is very much gung ho when he gets an idea,, not listening to sally,, dragging the whole town into his scheme through charm and whismy,, his star-eyed gojo ass clone suddenly seeing you in TWST and becoming obsessed with you!!! it’s only natural that halloween town has a queen right next to their pumpkin king, soon you’ll have the whole town just begging you to stay with them!!

AAAAA Vil would be so annoyed with me!! i would be as bad as Rook, waxing poetry nonstop about this nameless pumpkin king!!! he seems like the sweetest and silliest guy!! 🖤🖤

i literally have so many thoughts about him and WE DONT EVEN KNOW HIS NAME!!!! 💀

[robinwaaaaa]

Art Fight 2024 Attacks

Recipients:

@nameless-headless

Geese and zemuso (and me)

@doubledis

@styllwaters

@birderer

@timesnewfishcat

@garblegarden

[nofatclips]

Flash in the Dark by Headless Nameless

[honimello]

Doomed by the Narrative

Papa Emeritus iii/Terzo fic (terzocentric but still x reader)

Summary: Terzo copes with the afterlife, and tries to comfort the people in his life after his passing. (2,003 words)

Warnings: ANGST, detailed violence and gore, sadness, guilt, loneliness, murder, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, introspection

A/N: I'm doing a drawing for this currently lol, I'm super in my Terzo melancholy feels so this is the fruits of that labor lol. I really hope you guys like this and I would love some feedback!

He should’ve seen this coming, he thinks. The whispers, the disdainful glances, even the sheer amount of secret meetings between Sister and Nihil. There was no other explanation. As he stands, spectorally, over his now lifeless body. His head lay still at the feet of that disgusting, dreadful woman. He can see his father wringing his hands far away at the back of the room, trying desperately not to look at the act that has just been committed. The Nameless ghoul they had forced to enact the deed is cowering in the opposite corner of Nihil, the tears stream down their silver mask and the whimpers echo through the pews. Sister turns her nose up at the smell, the mere sight of his blood dripping from the headless body in front of her, she steps back and pulls a handkerchief from her pocket and crouches down. She brandishes his head by his hair, only the Mark of Lucifer stares back. He should’ve seen this coming.

Ever since he was little, Sister has had it out for him, insulting him, belittling him and his brothers. His brothers, his brothers that are gone as well. Where are they? Are they in this state of inbetween and yet still here, just as he is? Suddenly, the doors to the chapel are whipped open and a scream rips through the previously silent room. His fratellino, the only one of them that is left standing. Sister turns around as the poor Cardinal runs up and lands at the body of his dear brother, Copias face is wet with tears and his voice grows hoarse from the sobs that wrack his body. He begins screaming at his mother but for some reason Terzo begins to lose his senses, everything begins to be too much. He can't hear anymore, he can't see, he can't feel and yet everything is so cold. Where am I? Is all he can think. 

He doesn't know how much time has passed in the strange state of overstimulation but when he comes to, his body is gone and the room is bathed in darkness. He is alone, not even his lifeless head is with him anymore. He tries to move, tries to leave this wretched chapel of his untimely beheading, but he cannot slink through the pews. There is no leaving this eternal damnation. The fugue state that he stands in currently should terrify him, but he can't bring himself to think or feel or even remotely understand. Where am I? Where am I? Where am I?

The massive wooden door to the chapel creaks open. A Sibling of Sin shuffles through and slowly mopes their way through the pews, only to kneel just before his spector. His spector which he only now realizes, quite vaguely, that where he stands is exactly where he used to  lead sermons. He looks down at the top of the siblings head. They are kneeling with their hands clasped together, they sob and they sob and he's not sure why. What troubles you so? He wants to ask but his lips cannot move, he can only watch as they shake and tremble. They cry, and they cry, and they cry, and he's not sure when but he slips back into the void. Senseless and alone, locked in his chapel of unrest. Time passes slower this time, he watches as the sun rises outside of the stained glass windows and he watches as it sets. It begins to rise and set infinitely, like a flickering light. Yet, it is like an eternity of standing and watching. 

Sermons are held, he watches as siblings filter in and out of the pews. As his brother stands impossibly close, and shivers at the cold thought that Terzo stood exactly where he does now. That his body lay dead at his feet every time he leads the congregation, there is no rest for either of them. Terzo watches as more wrinkles, more fine lines and dark circles grow upon his fratellinos face. He watches him as time passes. He watches him when he lingers in the chapel after all the siblings have left, he watches as he cries and asks Terzo for guidance. Guidance he wishes he could give, but he cannot speak and he cannot cry.

It is a long time, he thinks, before the chapel doors creak open once more, and this time it is very late at night. Terzo has completed another bout of senselessness as a vaguely familiar Sibling of Sin walks in. They cry again but not as hard as they did the first time, and as he watches them he feels a different familiarity in their features. Does he know them? Did he know them… Before? He can’t quite remember but regardless of their tears and snot, he finds them rather beautiful in their grief. He can hear them sniffling, hear them whimper and whisper. They are the only thing he has been able to hear in a long time and he is struck with the realization that they look older than before. How long has it been? He hears them whisper once more and he can barely make out his own name, his title even. A title that no longer belongs to him.

“Papa..” 

“Papa…”

“Papa… Are you there?”

His finger twitches at his side, his muscles convulse. Call my name, he thinks, Call to me.

“...”

“...”

“... Terzo?”

Instantaneously, he regains feeling throughout his entire body. He stumbles forward before falling to his knees directly beside the Sibling. Why now? Why has he regained his consciousness now? He is so close to them and yet he cannot bring himself to match their gaze, so he stares past them and raises a hand to their shoulder. He thinks to himself that he recognizes them now, his amore… How could he forget? He wants to scold himself but can't bring himself to focus on his own feelings as he watches them shiver at his touch and begin sobbing even harder than before.

He opens his mouth and tries to speak to them, but alas any words that come out turn into the air of the chapel and all it serves to do is make the Sibling shiver once more. They begin whispering again, their words stilted and wavering.

“Papa, it’s been almost six years since you’ve been gone.”

He is stunned. Standing here for six years. Six years, does anyone remember him anymore? Has he been completely forgotten? Is he obsolete? 

“Papa IV is retiring… The holidays have passed and I find myself thinking of you once more, why has Lucifer doomed me to such a life? Have I not been faithful? Have I not been dutiful? Papa, I am lonely.”

His voice is like ice as he opens his mouth, the wind begins to whisper to the Sibling. 

“I am always with you.” 

Your body begins to shake, you cry out like you've never cried before, the melancholy that's made a home in your bones rears its ugly head and you fall to the steps below your knees. You reach your hands up and the breeze caresses them like your lover did once before, long ago. His presence is like a whispered promise in the air, and in a way, it is. Your tears smack against the stone of the steps but his voice calling to you is all you hear.

As the sun rises through the window, and you make your way back to your dorm room, Terzo leaves his spot in the chapel for the first time in six years. He follows you to your room and watches as you settle into bed to catch up on your lost night of sleep. Once he believes you to be fully sleeping, he makes his way out of your room and into the halls. He wanders for a long time, watching siblings he recognizes mingled with new siblings make their own way through the halls side by side with him. There are places around the Ministry that have changed, a specific archway has been remodeled and painted over with His Majesty in mind. It makes him smile, but it also brings him great pain that he could not have seen it built. 

Soon, he finds himself outside of an office. An office with raised voices emanating from the other side of the door. He slinks inside and finds his little brother and Sister Imperator. They are yelling, waving their arms, huffing and puffing. She is trying to convince him to rethink his retirement, she threatens him but it has no real weight to it. Terzo watches as his fratellino sits down in his chair with a groan and falls silent. Sister’s voice begins to trail off and she asks him: What is wrong, bambino? 

“His gaze has been haunting me, Sister. The Mark, the same Mark that stares back at me from inside the mirror. His head in my hands. I am haunted, and I miss him.” 

Sister Imperator rolls her eyes. You are still on about that? She says vindictively. That was six years ago, C!

“I do not care. He is my brother and I have wronged him, not only in life but in death as well. The cold stare in his eyes, the look on his face resting in my hands. I cannot wash that away. You have forced me into a place that not even Lucifer could forgive. This is not what I wanted, it is not what he wanted. Let me go in peace… Please, Sister.” 

She has turned her back on him, staring with an empty gaze out the window. You have disappointed me, C. I hope you are happy with yourself. She stalks out of the office, leaving both Copia and Terzo in silence. His brother begins crying, holding his own head in his hands.

“Could you ever forgive me, mio fratello?” He whispers into the icy air of the empty room. 

Terzo makes his way to stand behind the hunched over form of his brother, he sighs and rests his hand on his shoulder. Copia relaxes with the breeze that makes its way through him, a shiver and a shuddering breath wrack his body. It is a while before Copia regains his composure, but soon he is off to another meeting, his rushing and bumbling demeanor reminiscent of his Cardinal days. 

Terzo remains in the room, staring out the window as siblings rush by in the gardens. He thinks of his other brothers once more and wonders where they are. Could he find them here in this purgatory, or are they in Hell with their Lord? Have they been rewarded for their efforts? Why couldn’t he be with them, why did he have to haunt the halls of the Ministry alone?

He is not sure he will ever get the answers he looks for but for the time being, he is content to watch the new siblings admiring his late brother's hard work, the beautiful flora and fauna outside of the Ministry. He watches as two siblings water and trim the hedges and plants as needed, and he feels a sense of gratitude and pride in them. He is jealous of their life and their laughter but he is glad the Ministry continues to thrive, and has a new generation willing to care for it just as he and his brothers did.

Maybe this is his reward, his true retirement. There is nothing he has to worry about anymore, all he has to do is watch over his amore and his fratellino. Maybe he could be content in that, in having a purpose in this afterlife. A purpose that will not eat him from the inside out like the papacy.

The sun filters in and lights up the dust falling through the air, Terzo watches as it gently glides its way through the air like a leaf falling to the ground. He breathes a sigh of relief and begins to relax.

[bornetoblood]

LUDWIG!!!! kills your family

My toxic trait is that I really don't have any strong Ludwig opinion. I like him he can be very compelling but he doesn't click with me the way the other Old Hunters do and I deadass can't tell you why. I'm all for violent Catholic guilt tho

[beesmygod]

What's your take on Mohg's outer god and source of all the bloodflame stuff, the Formless Mother, as a connection to Bloodborne? I've seen some people say it's a canonical bloodborne link to Formless Oedon, personally I think it's just a fun reference, but I'm interested in your take as resident bloodborne Sicko.

Alt question: Are there any Easter eggs or references to other Souls stuff you really enjoyed?

lmfao its def just a reference....people are totally cracked if they think it's a deliberate like, attempt to tie in the games. fromsoft loves to iterate on their own ideas over and over and over again so i was pleasantly surprised to see a reference to a formless blood based outer god. but all it did was give me a frame of reference for what mohg's plans and "deal" are: he is working in the service of a cursed, ancient, blood-based deity to metamorph miquella into a god. just like bloodborne. but that's like. you know. as far as it goes in terms of meaning. this all exists within the unique ("unique") context of elden ring's setting and individual faction motivations.

and yes! there's actually so many references to other properties, its genuinely hard to pick out just one or two things. godfrey's eldest son was a dragon fanatic who shunned from public eye, just like gwyn and the nameless king. i got a lol when i realized he was a dragon fan again lmfao. the loathesome dung eater is ripping people's shirikodama out of their assholes like the headless in sekiro (and like kappa do from folklore). i might be remembering wrong but i think phase 2 maliketh does artorias moveset stuff which is part of fromsoft's long and storied history of ripping from berserk. there's so much and i love it. elden ring is like a love letter to themselves.

if the fight didn't suck so bad, i would love the fact that the final fight of the DLC is a blatant reference to the twin prince fight in DS3. its just balanced so much worse than that fight

[an-optical-phenomenon]

UHM. @nameless-headless COOL ULTRAKILL OC..i would have drawn him more but i didnt kbow what to draw him doing😞😞 TY FOR LETTING ME DRAW HIM!!

[homesfucked]

Ooooh yes yes i’m taking mental notes

also, based???? this makes me want to open twitter again but nahhhhh i won’t fall into the temptation

thinking about severed again bc someone liked one of my severed posts and i still cant believe the parallel between this bit

and this bit later of obyron talking with zahndrekh

im inconsolable

[odysseywritings]

The Dead Moth and Other Ghosts

@flashfictionfridayofficial

(tw insect cruelty imagery)

Christian passed by a church while commuting to the hospital and wondered when was the last time he prayed. One memory after another flowed into him. Some good, some bad, some funny, some embarrassing. The past had its place and he wanted to move on, keep his head on, and focus on the current, the here and now.

Pre-med made the time fly and gave him the need for exorcizing anxiety. It felt nice to contribute to the physical betterment of humanity without any nagging reflection. But today was slower and he needed to fill the time with studying. He honed in on vivisection, amputation, pain and other stimulation, and consciousness. All of it to help humanity but there was something else he walked away from.

Despite the blood and guts, medicine was the perfect example of humanity's scientific hand, to defy disease and ailment and even halt death. It was the cleanest arm in all of mankind's dealings. Christian believed it. But another part of him, nameless, shadowed him and wormed its way into his consciousness.

"Christian," the voice chirped. "Did I cause this?"

He peered deeper into his book to drown out the now echoing voice.

"Be honest with me, if not for yourself. Would you really want to become a doctor if you never saw me? How much I ignited the sparks of childlike curiosity?"

Christian accepted the voice existing but feebly ignored it until his steel fortress bent. He saw the apparition in full detail and magnified. A moth flying in front of him, missing limbs and a head.

"You can always change. No one has to stay ignorant of his actions. Or to deny his powerless understanding of the world. You thought an afterlife existed and that I was a step above a toy. A play thing. Like the ants you saw your cousin incinerate."

Christian swallowed in rage and sadness. He didn't mean to cause pain. He was a dumb kid who knew nothing. He wasn't a serial killer in waiting. He swatted the moth but his hand went through the wobbling sight.

"It's different. Your hands. Those tiny, curious things. The intimacy of it. Is that why you want to be a doctor? So you can control life and death in a nice, wealthy way? Bugs come and go, there's no hard feelings. But don't be surprised if a god exists and treats you the same."

Christian grabbed his book and slammed it against his wrist, again, again, again, until it numbed him. He trembled from the pain so he could transfer the guilt into something visible. The moth flew closer to his eyes in violent motions.

"All things want to live. Even if it means using something else to raise yourself. Don't kid yourself if you feel like a messiah. You can't bring back what you kill."

Christian breathed in ragged bursts, sweating, and ran his fingers through his dampened hair. The same fingers crawling down his face. The same ones that decide life and death. His blood froze.

"I don't know what this human emotion you're going through is. I take it it's not good by how many fluids are coming out of you, so take this. I'm already gone. No amount of life saving, or death dealing, or sulking, or avoiding changes that. Nothing."

Christian stood silent, shaking. The headless, limbless moth floated onto his nose.

"But what you can do is improve. Even back then, you saw and realized what you did was wrong without your mother or teacher or priest telling you. Maybe if not me, something worse might've happened. Who cares? You are alive and you can change. There are innocent children who never learn and become killers. If you do care, so be it. But history alone doesn't control who you are or what you must do to atone."

The moth ghost vanished once he blinked. Christian's senses were returning and the world stabilized. He closed the book in a hurry and walked inside the building to burn up anxiety. His trot stopped as he found a fluttering moth hovering by the ground. He thought about leaving it be or killing it to remove the pest, but he knew it was just a tiny bug that just wanted to exist.

He clasped his hands around the confused insect and carried it until he went outside and let it fly away. Deep down he knew this sentiment wouldn't amount to much, and that the moth wouldn't repay the favor and save his life in the future. But it got to live when death could've arrived just as normal. It wouldn't be an exciting life of heroism and triumph, and that's perfect for it, as life can win another day.