sharedskin-archive

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the unlucky trio.

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new tags:  shuichi, ethan, wydell.

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new tags:  bill, mike, napoleon.

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new tags:  wendy, charles, william, lionel.

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       NERVOUS WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT.   after his parents’ subsequent deaths  ( SUICIDES? ) he’s been an utter wreck, refusing to eat or sleep until his body is on the verge of collapse, and even then, it’s taken several long-distance calls from Kirie to keep him on track.  sunken gray eyes stare warily at  --  almost through  --  the stranger, thin brows furrowing with concern.          ❛ buddy? ❜   he repeats, confusion giving way to an almost pained expression as he wracks his disjointed memory for this man’s face.  ❛ do you--  have we met ? ❜

“What’s wrong, buddy? You look a little nervous.”

With his usual cheerful smile remaining unwavering, the stocky man would tilt his head to the side and eye the stranger before him down. From a first glance, Shuichi appeared to be Strade’s favorite type of person. Anxious, timid… Those were the sorts that always took the longest to break. Fearful they might have been, but those with fear in their hearts usually caused them to cling to life just a little while longer… With any luck, this one wouldend up going home with him and prove to be no different.

@sharedskin

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death is coming to purge this town i know your name and i’m gonna cut you down

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#SHT THE FUCK UP COLE 

a tragedy in two parts

#where the FUCK is cole

🌝🌝🌝 @infectmama

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braving certain tags to find edits like 

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ethan’s overall health has significantly deteriorated since the incident in dulvey.  he was already a slender individual, but his face has all but hollowed out, cheekbones now much more prominent than before, and his eyes are seemingly forever haunted by the dark bags that encircle them.  he rarely keeps himself clean-shaven, but never lets it get past more than a dark stubble.         it’s not that he’s stopped caring, so much as his body is still suffering from the effects of the mold.  without evie’s influence, he’s little more than a host for a parasite that’s effectively feeding off of him.  he’s often very tired / devoid of energy, and may “space out” or become shaky and ill from time to time due to a lack of proper nutrition.  

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  THERE’S A SICKNESS LIVING INSIDE ME.       /     YOU CAN SPARE ME ALL YOUR SYMPATHY. 

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         the feeling of skin against skin rouses him from his fitful slumber, and it’s only via a brief bout of fear-induced paralysis that he doesn’t instinctively reach up to swat her hand away  --  not out of hatred or bitterness or a lack of gratitude, of slowly-regained trust, but a gut reaction to simply being touched.  brown eyes burst open, chest heaving with a gasping breath.  seconds pass, tick-tick-ticking away, as he slowly comes to grips with reality, gains a sense of where he is and the safety of his own bedroom.  their bedroom.           when he’s able to move again, he slowly turns his head to look at Mia, nervous sweat plastering his hair to his forehead and soaking the pillow.  lips part soundlessly, ready and willing to speak  -----  but nothing comes out, chest tightening painfully and seemingly constricting his lungs, rendering him silent.  ( ISN’T THAT HOW HE PREFERS TO DEAL WITH HIS GRIEF? )         ❛ Mia ----- ❜  he rasps, voice thick, throat ravaged.  silently, he turns on his side to face her, one scarred arm reaching around her to gingerly pull her close  --  not enough to frighten, to dredge up memories better off forgotten of hands and fingers like cages, but enough to ensure that she’s here.  that she’s safe.

@sharedskin

          All - too often, he HIDES HIS AGONY from her.  For her.  She knows, and it makes the guilt dig sharper into her gut when she thinks of it ——— he came for her and she destroyed him and yet he is still saving her, even now.  Still hiding his agony so that she may heal ( an impossibility, but they don’t talk about that ).  He hides things from her, yes — but not tonight.

                           Sleep had eluded her, and likely for the best; the nightmares have not yet learned how to be silent, three years of agony slow to quiet.  So she had been awake and alert when his own nightmare had force him awake, gasping around a half - breath.  ( the sudden sound had only frightened the creature for a heatbeat or two. )  She’s always afraid to touch him when the nightmares rouse him ( knows he is likely dreaming of her ) but at least she is here.

                    “Ethan — Ethan, baby, you’re alright.  You’re safe.”  SLOWLY, as slowly as she can bare, she presses a pale hand to his face.  “I’m here.”

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       while the bacterium allows Ethan to endure and recover from insane amounts of pain and damage, his levels of infection are not nearly as strong as the Bakers’ or Mia’s, which means the wounds he sustains do leave behind scars.  as a result, he has numerous reminders of his time in Dulvey.  

a vertical scar on his palm  ( impalement via knife )  

a thick scar encircling his entire left wrist  ( dismembered hand via chainsaw ) 

a similar one just below his right knee  ( dismembered leg via shovel ) 

thin scars on and around his lips  ( knife wounds at the dinner table ) 

jagged carving of ‘LOSER’ on his left forearm  ( verse dependent; robotic clown ) 

more will be added as i replay the game and refresh myself on his more intense injuries.

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       it’s that time, y’all.  if anyone’s interested in becoming mains or exclusives with any of my characters, with the same extended to you on my end, give this a like and comment with some specifics.  :^) 

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        ❛ i’m really...  not interested in guns. ❜    grayish eyes stare rather pointedly at the loaded pistol, a faint grimace tugging at the corners of his mouth at the mere prospect of holding  ( let alone discharging )  a firearm.  gun laws in Arcadia Bay  --  and he assumes, by extension, the entirety of America  --  must be considerably more lax than those back in Kurôzu-Cho,    ❛ is this seriously what you do for fun? ❜

          ❛  WHAT ARE YOU  ,  chicken shit  ?  c’mon  !  ❜  the pistol held in her right hand is aimlessly  ,  carelessly waved around before it’s aimed toward the bottle sitting in the center of the old  ,  grimy table.  ❛  YOU CAN DO THIS.  i have total faith in you.  ❜  she says  ,  holding out the weapon to the other.

@sharedskin   /   liked for a starter.

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when the movie commentary confirms your headcanons are On Point

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@evilwork

some

BODY ONCE TOLD ME