#Waylon Park x Jeremy Blaire

[vzzdann]

Outlast silly doodles so far

(Maybe I am into Coyle/Reagent...)

[squirming-starfish]

Ship Analysis because I have nothing else to post except they're mostly with Waylon

Weddie (Waylon x Eddie) - While I don't care for it, it's fucked up in the right sense. I would read fics about it but I don't ship it.

JerWay (Jeremy x Waylon) - Same for Weddie, like there are certain fics I would read for them but I don't ship it.

Lisa x Waylon - They're married, so automatic 10/10. I like how people portray them since we don't get very much of Lisa.

Camerashipping (Miles x Waylon) - Another 10/10, I'm actually a huge fan of Camerashipping. Like, there's a huge difference in personalities between them that are balanced out by each other.

Wake(?) (Waylon x Blake) - I'm not entirely sure how to feel about this, and I'm not even sure this exists.

Polycamerous (Miles x Waylon x Blake) - I think it's silly yet have never heard about this outside the shipping wiki. If anyone has some fics about it please send them to me so I can figure out how I feel about it.

Second Coming/Messiah (Miles x Blake) - I think it would work post-2 since Lynn is dead, but I feel like Blake would be too hung up on her death to even think about moving on (kind of like Jessica). They could possibly even already know each other, unlike Camerashipping where Waylon and Miles haven't met.

WalMiles (Walrider x Miles) - I'm not sure. I've read some fics about it but I don't know where I stand on the WalMiles spectrum.

Blood and Business (Miles x Trager) - I came up with the name but it sounds more like a fic title. I'm all for fucked up ships and fics with them in it but like the other two I don't really ship it.

I'll make a part two if I missed anything.

[iceysnow]

saw someone writing Outlast sexuality headcanons so here's mine! Waylon Park: oddly enough I can't see Waylon as anything but hetero/ace despite shipping him x Eddie. Miles Upshur: Omni with no pref

Blake Langermann: Bi but he's had trouble with men after loutermilch

Lynn Langermann: shes also bi

Chris Walker: Aro/Ace Richard Trager: He's either bi or hetero (but he'll still kiss Jeremy good night)

val: Pan- I feel like I should discuss their gender but honestly I don't know either. maybe gender fluid or trans, Idk.

Marta: Ace lesbian (this is my 3rd ace, what does this say about me?)

Eddie Gluskin: Gynosexual HES LITERALLY THE DEF OF THIS ISWTG

Jeremy Blaire: Bi man with preference to women but he can only pull men😞

Leland Coyle: Omni- he doesn't care as long as your willing to get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 with a phone charger

mother gooseberry: Pan icon!!!!

Pauline Glick: ANOTHER ARO/ACE???

Paul Marion: hetero

Dr. Wernicke: Looks at Trials Homo

Frank Manera: Foodsexu-

[upshoredownthemiles]

Outlast Headcanons— Ideal Types Edition!!!

Ooh la la

Miles Upshur:

- Used to have a thing for blondies. Now thinks they're overrated.

- Personality wise, he likes someone who's the polar opposite of him. Someone more reserved, maybe shy (mainly because he could tease them easily and relentlessly), more of a sweetheart personality compared to his rowdy, loud, goofy personality

- Adding on, if they are a little fiery-spirited, that's absolutely hot to him. Someone who stands up for themselves and is not afraid to talk back and humble him down— that's HOT HOT, in his opinion. (A bonus, btw) He likes a little spice and challenge in a relationship.

- Likes someone knowledgeable and intelligent, girls who aren't bimbos

- He likes to be the one who helps and encourage his partner to come out of their comfort zone. He is fond of the Extroverted man x Introverted woman Dynamic (yeah I said so, fight me)

- Someone with the same music taste would be a bonus. Otherwise, how would he vibe with someone who loves CLASSICAL MUSIC???

- If you ask him, personality or looks, he would answer: "Personality is the main course, but let’s be real—looks are the appetizer you can’t skip.”

Waylon Park:

- Lisa Park

- He has a thing for baddies

Jeremy Blaire:

- Someone who is the same level as him. Upper class, wealthy, whatever. Fancy job position too. But not necessarily.

- Pretty faces matter a lot to him. Doesn't really regard personality as an important factor. If she's as shitty as him, then so be it. As long as they're pretty, then that would be it.

- Uhm, if he's anymore sadistic, he would go for ones who are easy to manipulate, someone who is naive, and doesn't know how to stand up for themselves. *shrugs* Not that he's actually attracted to them. That's just the easier way to get yourself a partner.

[outlustings]

I don’t know if this is allowed, or might be boring af. So if it’s any of those things please ignore. But I was wondering if you could do some headcanons for the following characters if they had a younger sister. Like, says a sister in their early 20s so there was a bit of an age difference.

Would they be close, or indifferent? I just wondered how you thought they might get along. This is kinda a self indulgent ask nyan ha! And say the sister got caught up in the Outlast and Whistle Blower events.

The characters I’d be intrigued for would be Jeremy Blaire, Eddie, Trager and Waylon.

Thank you x please ignore if you don’t want to do this 🌸

(this was a fun ask! got to write some of my fav characters from a different perspective so that was c00l! also made me rack my brain on how to insert reader into the events of the games. your ask was awesome babe <3

warnings for implied childhood abuse and not very nice things happening. also alcohol use and uhhh mild violence? mostly as wholesome as i could make it though but like. kind of sad. idk.)

×

JEREMY BLAIRE

Jeremy and you weren't really close growing up, but once he could consider you a proper grown-up, he starts to spend more time around you.

He used to be the kind of big brother who hated you until you both made it to your twenties and finally made peace. Well, not exactly made peace - just started coexisting.

Now and then he takes you along to a bar crawl which always ends up with you two drunk-dueting "Piano Man" or "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" in some dodgy ass karaoke bar in downtown Leadville. These little trips bring you closer together.

He's secured you a job at Murkoff.

You're his baby sister and he's made sure no one fucks with you. Not when he can fire anyone who slights you in any kind of way.

Officially, you work for as a consultant for some daughter company of Murkoff, but in reality, you spend most of your days just taking the piss with the folks at global development.

You don't mind the nepotism. Makes all of your vacations flow a lot smoother when your bank account is filled to the brim. And you don't really have to spend time at that creepy asylum, which is a plus.

Sometimes you'll come and visit though, on some semi-official business. It just so happened that you chose a really bad day to pop in for a morning meeting.

You're at Mount Massive when shit is going down. Alarms blaring. People running and screaming and the pungent smell of blood creeping into your nostrils.

You quickly start to understand that everything is going wrong, hard and fast. But before you could even reach up to grip his wrist, you're swept away by security.

"Get her out of here, for fuck's sake!" his voice was sharp, it cut through all the noise.

The evacuation is a hopeless effort. All you could think of is "Where's Jeremy?" That's what you heard yourself scream at the guards that tried to push you towards the doors.

But they got you. Found you. You were one of those Murkoff sons of bitches, weren't you? You were. They could smell it.

Jeremy found you shivering and bloody underneath a desk in the security control room with your head in your hands.

You didn't even know what time of day it was - for all you knew, the sky could be orange at night in his hell. You felt his strong hand on your forearm, wrenching you towards him, out of your hiding spot. You shook your head.

"Come on, we gotta go," he rasped, "Now. Let's go."

Tears streamed down your face.

"I can't," you breathed out, eyes flicking to the busted door as you sniffled.

"Sure you can if I can," Jeremy grunted with the effort of tugging on your arm, his other hand still cupping his side, dark blood staining his pale fingers, "Get up. Let's go."

He was right.

You rose up on wobbly legs, smoothed your torn skirt down and watched his face carefully as he winced in pain. You wrapped your arm around his waist.

"Lean on me," you whispered, taking a deep breath as you faced the door. Hoped to god the Variants were gone. Yo7 had heard some gunshots earlier.

"Fuck - okay," he slung his arm around your shoulder, you felt most of his weight against you as he accepted your offer. You adjusted his arm around your shoulder, began dragging him to the door with newfound determination.

He frisked you away as best as he could. You could hear his heavy breathing, heard his little whimpers as every step made his guts shift. You weren't even sure if they could fix him - who was they, even that you weren't sure about. You just wanted out. God, you wanted to be out.

You reached the entrance hall. Open doors. He leaned against the doorframe with a groan.

"Wait," he hissed, closing his eyes, letting go of your shoulder, slumping against the door, panting.

"Jer?"

He was silent for a while. Then he cracked his eyes open.

"You lost your shoes," he remarked.

Your eyes moved down to your toes.

"I stabbed a man with the heel. In the eye," you heard yourself say to the ground in a monotone voice.

"That's fucking sick," Jeremy gave a slight chuckle, "I'll buy you a new pair once we get out."

You smiled. Felt the stickiness of your tears on your cheeks. You heard footsteps behind you. You snapped your head back.

A tall man in a tattered jumpsuit, dirty blonde hair rustling in the soft thrum of air conditioning. Wide, horrified eyes. You felt Jeremy tense beside you. Then he let out a soft, little laugh, all he could muster with his weak lungs, broken ribs and god knows what else.

"Mr. Park?"

You heard a distant buzz, could feel something was wrong. Horeczy.

"Jer, let's go..."

"No. Wait."

×

RICHARD TRAGER

He's fun. Kind of a dick, but a fun brother nonetheless. The kind of sibling you secretly kind of hate, but once you are spending time with them, you forget every bad thing about them.

He teases you about you being the little sister. He's just a dick. He thinks you're permanently ten years old, acts like he's so much better and more mature than you - even though he's the big baby of the family.

He's spoiled as all hell. Your parents' oldest son, he always got the most opportunities as a kid. You try not to be bitter.

Rick always acts like he doesn't like you. But he does. Sometimes. He might not be in contact with you all that often, but every now and then, he'll send a long email, trying to catch up at 10pm on a Saturday night. You can almost smell the scotch through the screen.

Then, just like that, he goes no-contact. You get worried. Scared that you did something, yet, when he didn't answer your messages, your brain overrides that anxiety and focuses on him.

You decide to do a little digging around. Investigation. His phone is disconnected, his number disabled. LinkedIn deleted, social media dead. His house has been leased out to a bunch of frat boys who say they don't know a Richard Trager while eyeing you up and down with warm cider on their breath as you shiver on the porch.

You try to call Murkoff. They won't redirect your calls - as soon as you mention the name Trager, you might as well just hang up. It seems like they don't care.

"Ma'am, I understand you're frustrated," the clerk said with little to no understanding in his voice, "But I can't disclose that information."

"I need to know if my brother's missing, Christ, are you deaf or just-..." you bit your lip, trying to avoid profanities, "Can't you please help me? Please? Get a supervisor or something?"

"Have a good day, miss."

"No!" you yelled into the receiver, "No - wait!"

Dull beeps. Dead line.

You slammed your phone down on the passenger seat of your car.

"Fuck!" you hissed, your hands flying to your head. Something was going on. He'd gotten into some real trouble - surely. Worry and frustration swirled in your gut.

You tried to rack your brain - Mount Massive, it was only about a twenty miles ride, right? They couldn't turn you away from the doors, right?

The crackling radio makes you nervous as all hell - yet you won't turn around. It's stupid, naïve to even think so, but maybe, just maybe he's in there. Right? You have a gut feeling he was still in Mount Massive.

You drive up to the open gate, park cautiously next to the booth, popping your head out of your window to yell at a guard to lift the pole up - but there was no one. An eerie silence tugs at your nerves.

You get out of the car, walk over to the smaller gate, slide your fingers against the cool iron and push it open. Think. Your eyes scan over the building, you'd been here. Right? Everything felt numb and cold as you listened to the wolves howl. You jolted when you noticed someone in the window, up above. An old man, maybe. He waves at you. Beckons you. You hear the rumble of gravel behind you. You turn around and see the blinking headlights of a red jeep. You turn your head to the window again. The silhoutte waves at you again.

"Hey!" you turn on your heels and run to the car, waving your hands at the driver. A young man. You watched as he opened his door, exited his car, straightened his brown leather jacket.

"What's up? You need help?"

×

EDDIE GLUSKIN

You were always close.

Eddie would always protect you, being so much older than you.

You didn't remember a whole lot of it. Nothing, really. But when he moved out, he took you with him, took you to your grandparents and made you swear you wouldn't go back to mom. You didn't really understand. You didn't have to.

He'd visit you every fortnight. Bring you those little teddy bears that smelt of grease and carpet cleaner, the teddies you'd get from an arcade. Or maybe those impossibly tough gumballs from the machines in the corner store. Plastic rings. Knock-off dollar store Barbies. Anything.

He'd write you letters on fancy paper, decorate them up with cheap, glue-y stickers.

When you grew up, the letters came in less often. He visited only rarely. Your grandmother always said that Eddie was just busy. And so much older than you. She'd pinch your cheek and nudge another hunk of dry bundt cake onto your plate as you leaned against your hand, holding back tears. Eddie had forgotten your birthday for the third year in a row.

In your early twenties, you decided to find him. You had an address - and you went on from there. Found him in a suburb with rows and rows of nice houses and weary-eyed housewives calling their kids inside way before sunset.

You guys became close again.

You took him to a fair, repaid his little teddy bears with a big one this time. Made him eat cotton candy until he almost puked in the ferris wheel with you cackling like a maniac beside him. You teased him about being single in his forties, watching in poorly concealed awe as he made the empty cans of those scammy games fall over like they were nothing.

Then you'd go to the help desk, renew your tickets, come back again tomorrow, bask in the smell of the fireworks in the air, not saying the obvious: this should've been your childhood. This was the one you deserved. But it was too late.

You crashed on his couch a couple of times before making it back to your college town.

You couldn't stay for more than a few nights at a time. There was a strange smell in the house. Eddie always said it was the plumbing.

Ever since he'd gone to prison, everything was fucked up. All the reporters swarming your front lawn, all of the glares from your neighbors, kids on bicycles egging your house, teens spitting their cigarette stained insults at you in front of the store - it was all too much.

He kept on sending you letters. Rambling, long letters with faded stamps.

You never replied, though. Out of guilt. Disgust. You thought it'd be better for you both if you just ignored it all and kept your distance.

You'd stared at that return address so many times that you knew it by heart. Mount Massive asylum. Wasn't it in Colorado? In the middle of nowhere, the kind of woods people would go to hunt 'squatches - you smiled to yourself, thinking about all the times Eddie told you about monsters in the woods. In the pillow fort. Flashlight tucked underneath his chin. Vaseline and frozen pea packs on the cigarette burns on your legs. Your smile faltered.

Mount Massive wasn't that far, right?

×

WAYLON PARK

You two are very close. And you're the best kind of auntie to his sons. You spoil them and dote on them and he lets you because the boys love you just as much as he does.

As Waylon moved after his new job, you promised him you'd come around to say hi in Colorado some day.

You had your reservations about this new job - it was all just so sudden. It seemed somehow wrong.

"So, wait, what exactly are you doing?" you didn't raise your eyes from the TV as you mashed buttons at some Mario Party minigame with the boys roaring in laughter at your failure.

Waylon just kind of shrugged, "Software consultation."

You furrowed your brows. Adjusted yourself on the carpet.

"Really?"

"Yeah," you heard him sip his coffee behind you on the couch.

"Well, Way, I did some research on that company, that Murk-hoff or whatever. It's kinda sketchy," you turned your head back to your brother, ignoring your nephews squealing for you to press A.

"Why, does it have bad Yelp reviews or something?" Waylon grinned behind the rim of his cup. But you could see his smile was too taut to be entirely natural.

"I'm serious, dude," you sighed, giving him a stern look.

"Da-a-ad, tell her to press A!"

"Press A," Waylon gestured to your controller. You clicked the plastic with your thumb, holding his gaze.

"Are you sure you know what you're getting into?"

"Yes," Waylon chuckled, "Listen," he lowered his voice ever so slightly, "I really need this job. I'm running low on gas."

Gas. The codename for money in front of the kiddos. You just nodded. Tried to push away your anxiety.

"Lisa's worried too," Waylon mumbled, opening his arms as his younger son climbed onto his lap with grunts of effort.

"Once again, she proves to be the smarter of you two," you mumbled, but you couldn't help but grin when Waylon ruffled his son's hair before wrapping his hands around the tiny ones on the controller.

"Why don't we beat auntie? You're the green guy, ain't ya?"

You just let it be. You're happy he's getting paid, if nothing else.

It all seemed to go well until Lisa called you.

"Waylon's missing," her voice broke as you scrambled to your feet from the bed, ignoring the sleepy grunts of your one night stand as you kicked your sheets onto the floor.

"What?"

You drove to Colorado immediately, went to Lisa, tried to console her, tried to squeeze information from her as she showed you all the emails, all the letters from Murkoff. Blackmail. Something. Your head was spinning. This couldn't be.

"You have to swear you don't go up there. They're just looking for an excuse to hurt us. I'll handle this with my attorney," Lisa sighed.

But you had to find him. Had to at the very least go punch that bastard Blaire in his stupid fucking face, if nothing else. You had to find him.

You arrived at the asylum. Eyed the scaffolding and how it all swayed ever so slightly in the mountain wind. You ducked underneath the bent gate, trying not to think what had made that kind of a hole in solid iron.

"Just get Waylon and get the fuck out."

You could've sworn you saw someone disappear into one of the windows upstairs before their form was engulfed in the darkness that a popped lightbulb had left behind.

"This is going to be the death of me," you grumble and swipe at the gravel that had stuck to your knees before you straightened your back and eyed the rickety ladder up and down.

[ghost-whvre]

So I found out my meme I made a while ago kinda blew up and became the Outlast hashtag background image and I’m honestly so happy idek why but thank you everyone that enjoys my trash ilysm ;_;

[iblewthewhistle]

Project at Mount Massive

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Park, good. Take a seat. We’ve got some specialists coming in and I need you to create profiles to give them high priority access.”

Waylon gave a curt nod, as files were pushed in his direction. “Anything else?”

“You work in here. Where I can see what you’re doing. No slacking, no it’ll just be a second. Coffee there, use the phone for food.” His boss leaned forwards. “I see you have your laptop. Get to it.”

He worked in silence for a good while before everything started to compile, and he took a moment to make himself a coffee.

The door opened and the secretary peeked inside. “Sir, the new employees are here.”

“Send them up.” Jeremy stood up, straightening his jacket out. “You keep your mouth shut and continue working. Now.”

Moving back over to the sofa, Waylon reached over to place a coffee on his boss’ desk, careful to set it on a coaster. He tried to make himself small as people filed into the office and one of them stepped forwards, introducing themselves. As they continued to talk over him, a hand touched his shoulder, and Waylon looked up.

“Thank you, for your hard work. We appreciate it.”

The man’s eyes were hidden behind the yellow aviators, but he was smiling, sincerely. He gave a small smile back, before looking down at the computer.

“Okay. I’ve sent the IDs to be processed, they should be ready in a few minutes, if you’d like to follow me to the office?” He offered, setting his laptop aside on the couch, and led the way, ignoring the whispers and pointed looks. Remembering his laptop, he cursed himself mentally, knowing he’d need to go back at some point. No sense in putting off the inevitable.

“If you work with a computer, you’ll probably see me at some point. Have a good day!” Waylon smiled, as he headed back into the lion’s den.

***

Waylon opened the door to Mr. Blaire’s office, and was promptly slammed into the wood, his breath leaving him all at once. He tried to maintain his composure, swallowing hard when Jeremy forced him down onto his knees, hand carding through his hair. Waylon’s hands sank down to the floor, fingertips pressing against the plush, as he stared up at his boss.

“I don’t want you to be in front of anyone else like this. You are mine. Do you understand?”

“Yessir.” Waylon breathed even as a thumb hooked into his mouth.

“If that fucking church boy looks at you like that again, I will fuck you in front of him, in the goddamn cells.”

Waylon winced as he was pulled forwards, smothered in the musk of Jeremy’s pants, his hands reflexively trying to steady himself on the man’s hips. “I didn’t do anything…” He whined. “Sir, please…”

“I know you didn’t do shit…and he was eyeing you up like a fucking silver platter dinner.” Jeremy shoved him back against the door. “Now open your fucking mouth and show me how obedient you really are.”

Waylon shivered as he reached over to shakily unfasten his belt, his breath leaving him in one quick exhale. As he did, his pager beeped incessantly, until Jeremy’s hand reached down. “Give it.”

Waylon handed it up, as he concentrated on releasing his boss. “Now open up and suck.”

He obeyed. Waylon could only look up at him and try to please him, hands down, mouth open, and making the littlest noises of pain when his hair was tugged.

Jeremy let out a growl as he forced himself forwards, making him gag and raise his hands up in protest. Jeremy’s hands caught his wrists and pushed them against the door, as he began to thrust recklessly, forcing him to swallow his length.

“You are my fucking property. Never forget that.” He growled, and Waylon let out a cry of protest as Jeremy came, pulling out just to cum on his face. Waylon let himself sob once, before he reached forwards, tucking Jeremy in and refastening his belt.

“Get the fuck out.”

“Yessir.” He reached up as Jeremy turned his back, fumbling for the door handle. As he opened it, and almost fell out backwards, scrubbing at his face in an effort to clean himself up. He huffed out another sob as he fled back to his small office, throwing his arms around himself as he locked the door.

[7habitsofhighlyeviceratedpeople]

this link is expired there’s a new one on my account

[lida-leeda]

Sticker?😂BUT- I'm gonna make some final adjustments. Take the Cartoon Version For Now^^

[unidentifiedkb]

✋ 🪓 🩸

Requests Open! (everything except kinlist analyses and boards)

current theme: Ethan Winters (RE Biohazard/Village)

[pfp credit]

/ / /

CHECK MY CARRD!

finished request masterlist below:

sorted by fandom, recent posts are listed first: (disclaimer i've changed my post format a lot since I started this blog so be warned my older posts will look Worse)

/ / /

GENERAL REQUESTS

Animal Crossing pear (island fruit) stimboard

Cookie Run squid ink cookie moodboard moonlight cookie moodboard

DC (and occasionally Marvel) nightwing moodboard, german shepherds + bats + found family eddie brock (venom movies) moodboard stephanie brown / spoiler moodboard jon kent etsy kit, (mostly) kid friendly items

Disney mirabel madrigal headcanons moana stimboard

FNAF bonbon (+funtime freddy) stimboard, sleepy/dreamy fredbear moodboard, positivity glamrock chica etsy kit freddy fazbear (fnaf 1) stimboard springtrap etsy kit monty gator etsy kit, items that ship to australia glamrock freddy stimboard springbonnie etsy kit lolbit stimboard

Minecraft (+SMPs) ldshadowlady (empires smp) moodboard enderman stimboard

Nintendo count bleck x tippi stimboard tp link moodboard, ordon village froslass stimboard, ghostcore

Outlast waylon park video edit, little dark age jeremy blaire stimboard waylon park stimboard, static waylon park stimboard

Original Characters glitches stimboard, smooth repeating gifs

Otherkin/Therian african wild dog stimboard shoebill stimboard fallen angel / forest creature etsy kit crow stimboard, witchcore + emeralds tapejara stimboard, feathers + squishy things voidpunk etsy kit

Other Fandoms (mostly ones i’m unfamiliar with / i’ve only gotten 1 req for) azula etsy kit ciel phantomhive etsy kit nancy elsner stimboard mao mao stimboard corvo attano stimboard huggy wuggy stimboard masotan stimboard ena stimboard

/ / /

ASK GAMES

This Ask Game steve minecraft waylon park

[vebzz]

One of the drawings from my Eddie Gluskin x Waylon Park book on AO3!  If you wanna read, check it out here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/33015163/chapters/81947437#workskin

[deadqueenz]

Eddie Gluskin x Male Patient: I'll Fix You Part One

They would whisper his name, he could hear it even in his nightmares.

The Groom. Otherwise known as Eddie Gluskin.

Just the mere mentioning of his title sent shivers down his spine. He had only met the man once and they both had shared little words before he was dragged back to his room.

As more time went on he never saw The Groom again, but he could HEAR him; along with the other patients whispering his name in the dark. That's when the nightmares started, and soon it became hard for him to even close his eyes.

Which brought him to how he was now; exhausted and desperately wanted sleep without the nightmares. The nurses and Jeremy stopped coming for him, something he was glad for but he wished they would've stopped neglecting him and the other patients, giving them the proper care they needed.

Instead, they were used for The Engine and whatever Jeremy Blaire could come up with in his sick mind. So there he sat on the dirty floor etching another mark into his wall with a knife he took from one of the guards.

Once he was done, he sits back on his hands and yawns before getting to his feet. He hears another patient scream for the up-teenth time today and sighs before rubbing his shoulder tiredly.

'Why are they so noisy today?'

He walks out his cell, ignoring the hands reaching out to touch him as he walked around, he often found himself doing this often to try and fall asleep. It worked but, the nightmares still came and it was hard to sleep afterwards.

He yawns again and stretches his arms over his head as he hears someone screaming bloody murder and a door slam causing him to wince.

He huffs before starting walking again.

"Can't they all quiet down, what's got them so riled up for anyway?"

*Time Skip*

He had been walking for hours, and still sleep wouldn't come only exhaustion and a feeling gnawing in the pit of his stomach that told him he should have stayed in his cell. He came across a headless corpse along with the two brothers that kept talking about his liver and cutting him open.

After that he came across a panicked blonde male that kept telling- no pleading with him to get far away from this "hell-hole". He was dressed as a patient so he assumed he was one of the patients that were far to gone to be healed from the engine.

He ignored the man and kept walking, ignore his calls for him to follow him but before he could get too far the man grabbed him and explained that he knew him; not as a patient, but from outside the Facility.

The male felt sick to his stomach as "Waylon Park" explained how he ended up here. But before Waylon could finish he becomes pale as he looks behind the male in horror before running away.

He quickly turns around seeing such a horridness sight; Eddie Gluskin leaned heavily against the wall, a trembling hand over a wound in his abdomen, as he stares after the blonde male.

"F-Filthy whore." He calls weakly as the male stared at him with wide eyes. "G-Gluskin?" Was his eyes playing tricks on him? Has the lack of sleep and exhaustion finally made him lose the last bit of sanity he had.

Upon hearing his name Eddie looks over at the male as a small hint of a smile came across his pale sweaty face. "Darling, have you come back to me?" He falls to his knees and the male rushes over to his side.

"Gluskin, what the hell happened to you?" Confusion and worry was etched on his face as he pulls Eddie's hand away only to quickly place it back over it, Eddie groans as the male mumbles an apology.

Did he do this? Waylon Park!?

And to think he almost trusted him, he curses the man under his breath as he helps Eddie to his feet and turns back the way Eddie had came, luckily for him (mostly Eddie), he remembered the nurses talking about how Eddie had his own area because he couldn't "play nice" with the others.

The male gags as they pass through an area where half a dozen patients laid some split nearly in half, a body with his head split open, he shudders and hurries on through until they reached a room with a bed and he carefully places Eddie on it; propping the male up as he scrambles around the room for supplies.

"F*ck!" He whispers as he only came across a sewing needle and threads. It wouldn't be enough, he could have internal injuries, something could be infected or torn or...or...

He sighs and places the items down before running his hands over his face. First thing first, he had to calm down, next stabilize Gluskin, then....then... He turns his head to look over at the tall male who was staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

Taking a deep breath he grabs the thread and needle before walking over to Eddie's feet. "Hey, Gluskin?" He quietly calls out to The Groom who only turns his bloodshot eyes over to the male's direction.

He swallows hard before showing the needle and threads, "I wanna help you...But, I don't know much about this....I do know I gotta stitch you up, but I don't know how it's looking for you internally...."

The male trails off as Eddie looks down at his lap, at that moment he realized he had started to cry.

"Darling, why did you do this? We-We could have been beautiful."

The male sighs softly at the sight, maybe for now asking him would be useless. With a frown on his face, the male knew he would be doing this solo and with what little knowledge he had about the matter.

He takes a deep breath before walking to the other side of the bed and sits beside the Groom and squeezes his free hand. "Don't worry Gluskin, I'll fix you."

(Sorry this took so long. Hope you enjoy!)

[the-moon-racoon]

“hmmm... boss?”

It truly surprises me how little I see of this ship. I mean, I know that most peopple loves Eddie x Waylon, and also Miles x Waylon. But really, in Outlast fandom almost every fan-made material is for one of those ships. and even if its good material (’cuz it is, and i know it) it can be a little tiring(?)

Sooo I’m sharing here all my love for other ships, this one being my favourite

[ghost-whvre]

Yandere Richard Trager x Reader? (If that's alright)

Yes of course, sorry it took a while but here it is. I didn’t really know how to write about a yandere character but I hope I got it right. Enjoy and thank you for the ask

⊱ 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 ⊰

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫.

You managed to slither your way out of the chair that mad doctor put you in, picking up your camcorder you were prepared to get the hell out of here. With a deep breath you opened the door anxiously, immediately you heard this patient strapped to a bed start speaking to you about 'Trager' that must've been the guy that helped you and then captured you.

"How do I get out of here!?" You whispered to the guy but to no avail the guy just kept on speaking louder and louder with each word, before the doors behind you were flung open.

"Buddy!"

"Oh shit." You were terrified, this guy was really obsessed.

"Now, are you gonna cooperate with me here and go back into that room or am I gonna have to cut your feet off?" He said standing in front of you.

"Not talking eh? What about when I do this?" He said stabbing the poor guy on the bed with his bone shears, you see this as a time to escape and dashed past him. You heard him groan with annoyance, there wasn't many places for you to go, except an elevator however it needed a key and knowing that secular maniac was on your tail, would make it harder to search the place. You see a open vent hopefully a way out of here. Climbing through you realize it only took you to the next hallway, this one was much more creepier. Slowly walking down you see a plethora of rooms to discover, your discoveries were cut short when a very angry Trager knocked down the doors to the side of you and pinned you against a wall.

"Where do you think you're going sweetheart? Ricks gonna take good care of you." He said maniacally.

"N-nowhere." You stuttered gripping your jackets sleeves, he was getting super close you could feel his breath on your face.

"You, are mine. You got that?"

You nodded slowly, you didn't know how you were gonna get out of this situation, all you could do was agree with him. He grabbed you by the arm dragging you back to the room you were tied up in, the bottom of your shoes scraping along the floorboards, Trager could tell you were uncomfortable and he loved it. You made it back to the room you were in before, Trager throwing you in as a smirk plastered on his face.

"I'm gonna enjoy this!" He said slamming the door shut, you were screwed.

[iblewthewhistle]

The cabin is quiet in the morning when it’s inhabitants start to stir. As the sun creeps up over the treeline, Waylon is already awake and making coffee in the abandoned kitchen, half dressed in boxers and a vest, giving whoever wakes next a good morning kiss and hug.

This morning, it’s Alex, who is ready to go for a morning swim, but takes a small cup of coffee out with him, returning the kiss and hugging him back. Miles follows quickly, so the Walrider can have a chance to flow into the water with him.

He stands on the shore as supervision for the two with a coffee that Waylon hands him, giving the blonde a sharp swat on the ass, getting a lazy kick to the shins in response.

Gale is the next to rise, taking a coffee with a quiet thanks, and heads out to keep Miles company as he watches the Walrider and Alex race the lake.

Waylon gives him a kiss too, before pouring two more cups of coffee, and going back to his own bed, and setting the spare cup on the drawers. He starts up his laptop to get the day’s mail from Simon, and smiles as Jeremy shifts next to him, an arm snaking around his waist.

“Coffee’s there. The others are out at the lake.” He smirks as Jeremy kisses at his thigh.