#the drawing next to it was made by ghost when they were visiting sheo and the nailsmith

[rainydayzo]

Hehehehe I’m so proud of this

Also I have way to much to say about the thought process and story in this so enjoy the tags :]

It’s drawings like these that make me wonder if I would like writing fanfiction :0

[cotillion-the-rope]

Hallownest Hero Chapter Five: Tiso Again (Godhome Part One)

The Dreamer Lurien floated there in the middle of the Dreamscape. He… wasn’t going to fight? He was going to just sit there and let Ghost kill him? After what he and the other Dreamers had done to try to stop Ghost from doing this, he was now going to just let it happen?

Ghost went closer, drawing their nail to point at him. But even when they stood right before him, nail centimeters away from poking him, he still didn’t make any move to defend himself.

“… For King beloved… To sleep. To serve… Bonds must remain… Remain…” He clearly wasn’t even fully here; he’d been asleep too long.

Killing someone who couldn’t even chose to try to fight back of defend themself was wrong. Even Grimmchild, as ever eager for violence as he was, seemed to know that as he hovered by Ghost’s shoulder chirping confusedly instead of spitting fire.

But… Ghost needed access into the Black Egg so they could kill the Radiance in the Hollow Knight’s mind to save them as well as save everyone else from the Infection. And to do that, the Seals needed to be broken. Waking the Dreamers wasn’t an option, Ghost had tried that upon entering the spire to no avail, so death was the only option. Better they die after already sacrificing themselves to this cause than Hollow remain trapped and the Infection allowed to continue.

So, they drew back their nail, ready to strike. … They… couldn’t bring themself to swing it though. Killing people in cold blood was wrong even if done for good reasons.

Stepping back and sheathing their nail on their back, Ghost would’ve sighed if they could. They would just have to try their best to find another way to either get into the Black Egg or gain access to the Radiance through different means even if it did seem impossible. They were going to try to save everyone, including the Dreamers no matter what it took. … Hopefully there was a way.

 -

Up in Dirtmouth, Zote was still talking to himself on one side of town while Cloth, Bretta, and Myla, chatted amongst themselves on the other side. Sitting on the bench in the middle next to Elderbug and Lost, with Grimmchild resting at their feet, Ghost could hear both conversations pretty clearly and it made it hard to think. Though, given the problem they were trying to solve, they’d have trouble coming up with a good answer regardless.

There had to be a way though, right? Maybe they could try to burrow underneath the Black Egg somehow? Or break through one of its sides? Hmmm… They started rummaging through their pockets, searching for anything that might help or give them a good idea.

They had a lot of stuff, more than they’d thought, it was mostly charms though, some more useful than others, and interesting junk picked up along the way that they hadn’t had a chance to sell to Lemm yet or didn’t want to. One thing though stood out when they pulled it out. It was similar in size to the charms and could’ve easily been mistaken for one if they’d been paying even slightly less attention. It was the gold thing they’d found next to the bug they’d freed from the coffin in the Junk Pit.

They’d forgotten about that and about the Dream Realm they’d entered when Dreamnailing her. Ghost had poked around the place a bit but hadn’t stayed long. But they’d learned the place was called Godhome and the Godseekers were all about seeking gods and communing with them via combat or… something along those lines. They hadn’t been paying the most attention in the world because the Godseekers were rather rude and they didn’t like that.

But the Radiance was a god, probably the most influential one in all of Hallownest. And Godhome was in the Dream Realm so perhaps it would be possible to access her through that and kill her there instead. It was worth a try anyway and the only thing even remotely plausible that Ghost could think of.

 -

In Godhome, the Godseekers still saw Ghost as nothing. They recognized Grimmchild as the Nightmare King despite still being little more than a hatchling. But nope, not Ghost; despite everything they’d accomplished, all the power they’d gained both in Hallownest and during their wonderings outside of it, they were worthless; a ‘cringer’. Well, they were going to prove that notion wrong. They were something and they were going to save the world… or well, Hallownest at least. Possibly the world too because theoretically the Radiance could extend her influence outside of Hallownest to other kingdoms, right?

The place split up into what the Godseekers called Pantheons. To gain access to what looked to be the final one behind a metal gate, Ghost had to best the first three beforehand. That shouldn’t be too hard, they could easily defeat a few Dream foes, especially with Grimmchild at their side. They went straight for the first one because it was logical to expect it to be the easiest and therefore done the quickest.

And… they were right, it was easy; Ghost barely suffered a scratch. At the top though was… Oro!? They hadn’t seen him in ages. Their fault really for not visiting as often as they should.

They ran over to say their version of ‘hi’; a simple hand wave. They didn’t get a ‘hi’ back though. Instead Oro pulled out his nail roared a mighty battle cry. Right, this wasn’t fully him, just a Dream version of him summoned by the Godseekers. Like the foes Ghost had vanquished to get to him, he was bound by the rules of Godhome and that meant combat was eminent.

Ghost was ready though, easily dodging his first attack and retaliating with their own. He was good with his nail… but Ghost was so much better. Victory was assured. …. Until Mato joined the fray anyway. It was nice to see him again too but he made it a bit harder. Ultimately though, Ghost triumphed.

Grimmchild chirped with joy as Ghost, leaking a bit of void, bowed to the brothers as they bowed to them; it had been a good fight. They held that position until the Godseekers’ light filled the room, fading to reveal them outside the first Pantheon’s door once more. There was now a symbol above it, signifying that it was complete. After a short rest, Ghost would move onto the next one.

 -

The second Pantheon was a bit harder but not by much. Sheo was at the top this time. True to his nature, he no longer wielded a nail, even in the Dream Realm, but a paintbrush instead. An interesting weapon that was surprisingly effective. He didn’t stand a chance against Ghost though. They would have to visit him and the nail smith later too when they got the chance.

The third Pantheon was even more difficult. Ghost barely made it to the top and when they did, they were met by Sly, unsurprising. The battle was over in seconds as Sly took them by surprise with a heavy nail right between the eyes, breaking their already damaged shell.

Ghost was sent back to the Pantheon’s door, lying face down on the ground. On the bright side, being in the Dream Realm meant they didn’t need to worry about reuniting with their shade after dying. That didn’t make it hurt any less though. But it wasn’t the first time they’d died, nor was it likely to be the last, so they got back up and went right for round two.

On the fifth attempt, they came out victorious at last. A great feeling. Honestly, Ghost was having fun. The thrill of a good battle was irresistible.

After resting a bit more on the bench in the middle – they would’ve slept just for the sake of it despite not feeling sleepy but it was impossible in the Dream Realm – it was time for the final Pantheon. The Radiance had to be at the top… right? They were about to find out.

The climb up was the most difficult of them all, as predicted. But after everything else they’d been through up until now, Ghost was more than capable of handling it.

At the top was a dark room. Which didn’t seem right at all, wasn’t the Radiance supposed to be… radiant? So shouldn’t her room be bright? Even more concerning though as the tall figure standing with their back to Ghost wearing a long silver cape, no way that could be her, could it?

They threw aside their cape and spun to face Ghost, letting out a voiceless battle cry. The Hollow Knight!? They were much taller than when Ghost had last seen them and their horns more prominent with an extra point but there was no doubt it was still them. But… they weren’t cracked, seemingly not even a little. This was them before they’d taken on the Radiance, probably just before considering their…

They charged. Ghost couldn’t lift their nail in time to parry and ended up impaled through the chest by Hollow’s longer nail. Void gushed out of the wound as Hollow yanked it back. Ghost couldn’t recover as Hollow swung again, slashing Ghost’s shell in half.

Suddenly on the ground outside the door to the Pantheon, Ghost didn’t get up right away. Instead they lay there waiting for the shock of pain and surprise of seeing Hollow there to fade. What kind of sick freaks were the Godseekers to pull up this pure image of the Hollow Knight? Didn’t they know about the real Hollow Knight’s plight? Broken by the Radiance, chained within the Black Egg by their very own father in a doomed and useless attempt to save a dying kingdom from a stupid feud the Pale King had started. And the Godseekers had the gall to show Ghost this version of them?

Grimmchild chirped above them, his tone worried. Ghost didn’t move though. They couldn’t recall a time when they’d been this mad and distraught before. Maybe they were overreacting. It wasn’t really Hollow, just the Godseekers’ idea of them when they’d been in their prime before taking on the Radiance. But it just felt so… disrespectful to revere the memory of what the Hollow Knight used to be when they were currently suffering because of what they’d been. If they hadn’t been deemed ‘pure’ and ‘truly hollow’ they never would’ve ended up where they were now.

With a louder chirp, Grimmchild settled down on the ground beside them. Turning their head to look at him, they lifted a hand to pet him on the head on the spot he liked. He nuzzled into it, making happy sounds for a few seconds before lifting off the ground with a flap of his wings. He then grabbed Ghost by the back of their cloak with his mouth and yanked them up too, forcing them back onto their feet. Wow, Ghost wasn’t particularly heavy but Grimmchild was still stronger than they’d thought.

He was right though. Ghost couldn’t just lay there feeling bad about what the Godseekers were doing. They were going to do something about it. They’d defeat this Pantheon and then hopefully the Radiance would be on the other side.

 -

The Hollow Knight was the strongest foe Ghost had faced yet. They were still angry about this long-gone image of their sibling being viewed as a god but… their battles against each other were fantastic. They were thrilling and glorious and… a way to get to know Hollow a bit better, not as much as they would like but it was more than they’d had before. Which, as was always the way with such things, only made them want more. Hopefully, after all this was done, that desire would be attainable.

Ghost ascended and was forced back down from the top of the Pantheon many times, they stopped counting after ten. They’d almost felled Hollow a number of times but always hesitated to deliver the final blow, not wanting to hurt their sibling for real even if it wasn’t really them. I was just a fraction of second but that was long enough for Hollow to defeat them instead. But with each battle Ghost adapted just a bit more and got just a bit better until finally…

Following a shadow dash through Hollow’s thrown daggers, Ghost slashed into Hollow’s abdomen, already leaking a substantial amount of void. Their shell would’ve broken, releasing their shade if this was in the real world. But it was wasn’t. Instead they collapsed forward.

It was an odd time for it but a memory of Hollow, forgotten due to leaving Hallownest’s bubble, returned to them. Before the void had proved too much for many of their sibling’s shells to contain, before the Pale King had summoned them all in search of his ‘pure’ vessel, they’d heard the cry of the Radiance. The void in them and in their siblings and all around them hadn’t liked it, answering with a mindless roar of its own. The Radiance’s light was abhorrent to the void’s darkness, one could even say they were opposing forces.

This memory had to mean Ghost was on the right track though as outside the fourth Pantheon’s door once more, they sensed something unlock above. There was more here than just the four Pantheons. The Radiance was here and she would be at the highest point in Godhome. Ghost was going to go up there and kill her.

 -

It very quickly became apparent that Ghost would have to fight every single foe strong enough for the Godseekers to deem as a god that they’d ever come across before they could battle the Radiance. Which wasn’t surprising given how the other Pantheons had gone. It might’ve been an exciting prospect except for the fact that there was no joy in defeating the weak foes at the bottom. It was almost monotonous, they barely had to even try.

That monotony was broken all at once with the sudden appearance of Tiso upon ascending to a new level. He let out a battle cry of course because that’s how this place worked. But it was still great to see a friend even if…

A large shape moved off to side, leaping high into the air and towards them. More like towards Tiso who wasn’t paying attention. Ghost dashed forward and shoved him as hard as they could, knocking him back – his stance had been unsteady too, seriously who taught this guy to fight? The large thing that Ghost was now sure was the Brooding Mawlek landed a second later, crushing Ghost because there was no way they could’ve gotten out of the way in time. Their shell shattered with a thankfully brief but intense flash of pain.

“What the fuck was that?” Good, Tiso had been knocked to the bottom of the Pantheon with Ghost the same Grimmchild always was. Though that also meant for sure that he wasn’t here by the Godseekers’ summons.

Ghost pushed themself back up to their feet to look up at him. Never before had they wanted to speak more than now both to scold him for not paying attention and almost dying again and to ask him why and how he was here. Nothing about this made sense.

Tiso flinched. “Didn’t you just die? We were going to duel at last and then…” he made a vague confused gesture. “And now we’re here.”

Ghost nodded. They then pointed at him and gestured all around before tilting their head; the closet they could get to asking a question. He didn’t seem to understand though.

“If you died then how are you here? Also… did you really just die pushing me out of the way of whatever that thing was? I had it handled, I was going to take it down all on my own. I didn’t need your help again.”

He was kind of an idiot, wasn’t he? That was okay though, not everyone could be smart and Ghost didn’t see him as any less of a friend. But regardless of that or how he’d gotten here, he didn’t need to be here. This wasn’t a place for normal bugs. How to get him out though? … Well there was always the exit, if they could get him to follow.

Ghost pointed to Grimmchild and then to Tiso then themself before gesturing in the general direction of the exit. Tiso might not want to come with them and in that case, Ghost was going to need Grimmchild’s help to get Tiso out of here because reasoning with him would take too long with Ghost’s inability to speak. Grimmchild nodded and chirped an affirmative, seemingly understanding the request.

“What are you gesturing about?” Tiso asked.

Ignoring him, Ghost took his hand and started pulling him towards the exit. He resisted of course but before he got a chance to voice a compliant, Grimmchild spat fire at his feet making him jump before swooping around to push him in the direction Ghost wanted him to go, hissing all the while.

“Okay, okay, fine, I’m moving. You’re lucky you’re a baby though otherwise I wouldn’t hesitate to swat you out of the air, fire or no fire,” he said instead. Grimmchild responded with a huff. “Where are we going that’s so important anyway? Though… I guess neither of you can answer so never mind.” Good, he was learning.

When they finally reached the exit, Ghost stopped and let go of Tiso’s hand. Before he could ask what was up, they went around behind him and pushed him onto it; they didn’t want to leave themself until the Radiance was dead. He vanished immediately and Ghost Grimmchild turned away to head back to their quest.

***

Tiso’s eyes opened to the sight of a large pile of junk. That had been a rather strange dream. Why would he even dream about the pale wanderer and their moth baby saving him again. But it had felt so real, if he hadn’t just woken up from it, he might’ve mistaken it as something that actually happened.

With a groan, he sat up, rubbing the ache on his head and reaching to grab his shield where it lay beside him. The last thing he remembered was getting lost in the Fungal Wastes and then coming upon a large open space. Interested, he’d explored a bit before slipping on a wet bit of rock and plummeting to what he’d been sure would be his death. But getting knocked unconscious and have a strange lucid dream aside, he seemed to be mostly unscathed, lucky him.

He stood up and… froze as he turned around. There was a large golden bug right next to him. Her sheer size was intimidating, making him instinctively take a step back. She wasn’t paying him any mind though, instead her gaze was focused what lay at her feet; the pale wanderer and their fire moth baby.

They both seemed to be asleep, cuddled up together with the moth baby’s wing draped over the wanderer’s body like a blanket. It was… actually really cute, though Tiso would never say so out loud, he had an image to maintain. But under the gaze of a stranger and in the middle of what looked to be a junk pit was no place to sleep. He should go wake them up, they were supposedly his ‘friends’ after all. And the wanderer had saved his life twice… no once, the second time was in a dream and thus didn’t count no matter how real the dream had felt. So just once and that meant Tiso owed them at least one favor.

Trusting the strange golden bug to continue to pay him no mind, Tiso approached and crouched down beside his ‘friends’. He lay a hand on the moth baby’s back – it was far warmer than any bug he’d ever touched before, not that he’d touched many but still enough to know this was strange, though it probably had something to do with the whole fire thing – and gave it a small shake.

No response. So, he shook a bit harder, enough to jostle the pale wanderer as well. Neither of them stirred.

“They can’t be woken. Leave them.”

Tiso jumped back up to his feet. The golden bug hadn’t moved though, she wasn’t even looking at him. “What do you mean? Did you do something to them?” If she had, he was going to have to kill her. That way he’d pay back the debt he owed the wanderer in full, either through saving their life or avenging their death. The former would be best of course because then the wanderer would know of it.

“No.” The golden bug still refused to look at him. “We are not seeking to harm them. We told them to leave but they insisted on staying. You however, thine intrusion upon our Dream was most unwelcome, leave.”

Tiso opened his mouth to make an angry retort but… paused. It may just be a dumb feeling but he got the sense that there was something going on with her and just here in general that he’d rather not have anything to do with. So he should just count his blessings and get out of here while he still could. And while no one else was around to witness his retreat.

He glanced at the pale wanderer and their moth baby again. They apparently wanted to stay and their actions in the dream had indicated that as well. Not that that was much to go by because it was a dream and thus couldn’t be real… could it? … If it was then Tiso definitely didn’t want anything to do with this whole situation because supernatural shit was not his thing.

So… without further word, he turned and left, heading toward the wall that looked like he might be able to use to climb up and out. He was going to pretend this whole thing, starting with slipping and falling, never happened. Heck, it might be time to just bail out of Hallownest completely and pretend he’d never visited because this whole place was proving more and more to be an absolute disaster. Surely he could find better glory and success in a kingdom not filled with insane people and lifeless husks wandering around attacking everyone.

[spicedrobot]

Paint master sheo... being a hot thot dad,,, teaching an art class for the wee lil babs of how nest... nailsmith is highly attracted to this charming good w kids man... so much so they gotta fuck about it after class

The world opens to the paintmaster and the nailsmith after little ghost’s victory. Minds return to bodies, and the bugs that were before draw together. Small communities at first, lost and afraid ones, then, slowly families. Week by week, the wildness of the vines is pruned and tamed, and a small, handsome village arises within the green overgrowth of the forest. Sheo never thought he would see it in his lifetime. Eyes, bright-eyed and dark, no hint of citrine poison. Children, laughing and playing; he doesn’t remember the last time he saw a young soul without deadened despair carved into their tiny face. 

Bugs and kin are not the only beings that populate the village. Vessels, tens of them, visit their home one day, led by a chagrinned Quirrel and little ghost (though little no longer; they are a spire next to their companion, nearly as tall as their newly elected sovereign).

“My apologies. I told them tales of your masterwork, and they have taken interest. Could you show them how to paint?”

How such a request thrilled him, to teach vessels and children while parents and watchers went about their day. Like nail apprentice, but joyous, curious where his previous students were grim. The paintmaster spends each afternoon in front of the tiny denizens of the forest, instructing as they studiously mimic his strokes and splatters.

Quirrel often stays and paints, little ghost as well, when they can spare the time. The only other mature eye is Niall, who sits at the back of the class, following along with them, quietly watching Sheo lead the classes. They pass their afternoons together just so, and even in the few years since they began to share their lives, Sheo can tell with certainty when Niall is feeling capricious. 

That day, Niall struggles with his linework, the paint upon his canvas muddying beneath his heavy touch.

“No, no, like I showed you,” Sheo gently murmurs, leaning over Niall’s shoulder to inspect his work.

“Show me again?” Niall replies. 

Sheo smiles and moves closer, grasping Niall’s hand. His breath is warm against his lover’s face as he leads him through the proper motions, long, light strokes with smooth, punctuated flicks. 

“Like that,” and even lower, beneath his breath, only for him. “Stay after class, and I will show you another stroking technique.”

Niall’s eyes burn into his back as Sheo continues to the front of the class, checking the other, much smaller canvases set up for his young students. It feels an age before the sun crests and the class packs their supplies, going in pairs or threes back to their homes.

When the last student leaves and the door is firmly sealed behind them, Sheo turns to claim his prize. He does not expect to see Niall’s fierce gaze half an inch away. The kiss is immediate, but soft, warm and gently scratchy from Niall’s beard. The old man’s a good kisser, and Sheo melts into it immediately, tired and satisfied.

There is a hand at his flank slipping beneath his apron, sweet fingers tracing between his legs. Sheo moans into Niall’s mouth, tipping his head to gasp and draw breath. He grins weakly, off-kilter from the surprising ardor.

“Interested in learning my tech—”

So quick for a bug his size and age, Niall draws to his knees. The heat that shoots through Sheo is immediate, lodging his words in his throat. Niall’s horn gently draws against his round belly, a clever, calloused hand shifting his apron to the side, mouth kissing directly above the place that’s suddenly very interested in its proximity. 

“Niall, this is…”

“Would you prefer to teach me, paintmaster?” 

And, oh, Niall is in a rare mood. So often a gentle, patient lover, but be it the wait or the location, there is a fire in his belly, and Sheo’s blooms to match, hot and needling. Niall draws his tongue along Sheo’s slit, catching the very tip of his cock as it emerges, suckling while his eyes flicker to Sheo’s face. It matters not, Sheo can’t bear to look, knowing it would only encourage him and everything would be over quickly. One hand instead settles on Niall’s horn, the other upon his shoulder as his lover sucks him so sweetly, his cock thickening, emerging right into the liquid warmth of Niall’s mouth.

“What…what’s gotten into you…” Sheo mumbles, words to distract him from that skilled tongue. He often was the pursuer, and the nailsmith was content to be led. Usually he would gently rock into his lover’s mouth, watch as Niall’s face darkened and his eyes glazed and became wild as Sheo found his end. Now, Niall pins his hips to the door, keeps him captured, at his whim.

“The teacher’s life suits you, Sheo.” Is all his lover offers, grin barely contained by his beard. Sheo bites his lower lip, watching, feeling Niall’s breath ghosting over him, drawing him back into his mouth, sliding him deep within. Holding, suckling, with lips locked to the base of his belly. 

“O-oh…” Sheo’s groans rumble within his chest, breathy and low. 

They are both quiet lovers, but Sheo cannot seem to be so now, legs close to giving out if not for the steady hands at his waist. How smoothly, how sinfully Niall draws back and forth along his cock, his own emerged and bobbing between his thighs, enjoying Sheo’s pleasure, enjoying pleasuring him, eyes half-mast and sweet, tongue sliding along his cock’s underside as he draws deep again, works his mouth without reprieve.

Sheo could do this, he could last; he could beg to take Niall over the model’s table, very much like their first. It balances on his lips, but pleasure blackens his sight when one of Niall’s hands snakes down his body and slips inside him, rubbing just so, just the way he knows will make Sheo weak, helpless with touch, with his mouth, throat tightening around him.

“Gods, Niall—”

Niall laughs around him, vibrations rumbling along his cock, and the paintmaster holds fast and spill directly into his lover’s waiting belly, trapped between the door and the one he loves so dearly it steals his breath.

It is Niall who gently leads Sheo by the hand, making sure his jellied legs are steady, as he eases him, belly down, upon the model’s table. It is Sheo who bites into the velvet throw upon its roughened surface as Niall presses into him without resistance, made wet and so needy by his lover’s tender care. Taken apart, piece by gentle piece, Niall’s thrusts slow and mesmerizing, bringing Sheo again so quickly he cannot speak or think. He does the only thing he can do: kisses Niall desperately when his lover gently turns him over and presses inside once more, still unbelievably, needfully, wanting.

“Perhaps…I could learn something from you.”

Niall’s gentle laughter ruffles his beard, and he holds Sheo’s face as he dips to kiss him once more.