#and outlast 2 one time

[zsatuka]

VERY COOL ZSAT DISCORD SERVER!!

I have almost 200 followers so maybe this will work

hello im promoting my very cool yumeship/selfship server which is obviously multifandom. .... we got splatoon, cult of lamb, outlast, clone high, antonblast,... ... uhh....digital circus...gravity falls etc. everything basically.

basic rules. i make funny videos of the members and we have garticphone nights. very cool community and friendly!!!!!!!!!!!!!4

it's not just a yume server btw anyone can join!!!! safe place for anyone expect weirdos. get out I'm gonna beat you up

[sugucidal]

nahhh honestly. writing on here is both a reward when readers provide feedback and a fuckin pain in the ass when these hating ass bitches flag ur shit 💢💢💢💢 LIKE CMONN ugh. sorry. gotta stop myself from going into a heated rant abt this before its too late BWOFHOSKA

but im so glad the progress on ur nanami fic is going smoothly!! thats the best feeling, when it all goes as planned 🐥 my fic tho? 🚬🐟 *scratches ass* still working on chapter 2 of my neighbor fic! and im running into problems with the flow of a certain scene 😞 i think i might just skip it and write for another scene instead n come back to it later 🔙🔙🔙

AND UR ABSOLUTELY RIGHT HOSHI!!! re7: biohazard took resident evil out its grave. and then the remake RLLY rebooted the entire franchise 🧟‍♀️💸🏦🔁 also NEVER feel embarrassed abt loving fe3h that game was A MASTERPIECE 😫 i came into it liking Claude but came out slobbering and suckin on dimitris dick™ he rlly stole my pussy heart 🩷 but also THERES A FE4?? why have i never heard of this ?#;'($;2) TELL ME MORE and dont cockblock those fanarts from me 💢💢 i need to see them (because i said so) 🐥💢

Diviii!! How're you doing today? I'm over here procrastinating on this Nanami fic (dw, I'll get back to it, hehe) and was just wondering what's goin on your end?

Also, gotta ask before I start assuming, but wanna be mooties 😳💌 You seem like a fun and nice person (and a great writer) and would like to get to know ya~

Also also, you like resident evil, too!!? Oh, that makes me like ya even more!!! :D

haiii hoshiii ₍ᐢ•ﻌ•ᐢ₎ i still been working on my toji fic and lemme tell you, writing aint for the weak 🚬🐟 but i gotta push through 🫷😫🫸 (also tell me abt ur nanami fic hehe) also YES OFC!! i seen you reblog my fic and checked out ur page and the way you write toji just scratches an itch—so ofc i had to follow <33

AND YESSS I LOVE RESIDENT EVIL!!! i fell in love with the franchise back in 2019 when re:2 remake came out. i loved re:7 biohazard too but never rlly got into the franchise until i seen leon and claire 🩰🦢🪷 OH i also saw you like fire emblem and ace attorney!_?')3( i rarely see any writers here who know abt fire emblem so this is rlly exciting hehe

[slimywren]

we need outlast 4

[v--nus]

2023 Steam Year in Review 😎

[tyrannuspitch]

spent the evening repairing my favourite jacket by hand and now i'm not mentally ill any more :}

[sleepdeprivedandoverthinking]

Saying this as both an Outlast and Mouthwashing lover.

A lot of people in the Mouthwashing fandom would not be able to handle it in the Outlast fandom, especially when it comes to liking characters.

Especially on tik tok, it seems the Mouthwashing fandom is so strict with what it does and doesn't allow, like I hate Jimmy as much as the next guy, but it's not a crime for someone to draw him or include him in the cast. He's an IMPORTANT part of the plot. The tik tok fandom also seems to say Mouthwashing shouldn't have a fandom point blank period because it's "too deeply thought out" and fanfics, ocs, and such shouldn't exist because it "ruins the story".

Meanwhile Outlast is a horrific, well thought out game with several installments, and the fandom is (mostly) chill. Like it's abundantly clear these guys aren't good people or even conventionally attractive to most people, yet they're adored and people make silly jokes of them all the time and make tons of fanfics, aus, and ocs. Hell, 90% if the fandom's favorite or second favorite dude is a guy who cuts people's dicks off and then kills them.

This isn't meant to say you can't have boundaries or things you like/dislike, but much of the Mouthwashing fandom overpolicies the fandom, and some even say Mouthwashing shouldn't have a fandom period because it's "too serious and dark" while Outlast is serious and dark yet no one cares what you do in the fandom.

Both are horror games with great stories.

Both produce gorgeous fanart and deep theories, and it's clear love is put into several art pieces and theories.

Difference is, a majority of one fandom can't handle fandom ACTING like fandom.

-------------------------------------------------

Mini edit: Honestly this could be about fandom as a whole nowadays but given they're both horror games, albeit different types, with fan bases, that I love, I decided to compare them. Lets try to be civil please in discussion.

Edit 2: Okay, this got a lot more attention than I thought. TO AGAIN CLARIFY, its okay to have boundaries and personal reasons you may not like a character but like another. Same goes for certain aspects of fandom culture. But there's also the aspect of "block/scroll and move on". Frankly, my examples from Mouthwashing were things I have personally seen that you may not have, hence why some of you may be confused.

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ FLOW ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. with your auto workshop at risk of closing down, your best friend kira ryosuke offers to introduce you to people who are definitely in need of your high quality services: underground street racers of blue lock, whose obsessions are winning the races. however, your arrival at the track makes them think otherwise. 

CHARACTERS. isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, kunigami rensuke, barou shouei, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, yukimiya kenyu, otoya eita, karasu tabito, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, itoshi sae

CONTENT. f!reader. street racer au. fluff. 1.3k wc. rewrite of flow at my old main blog @/verxsyon. reader is labeled as “kira (ryosuke’s) girl” because they are always seen together. possessive behavior (barou). mentions of violence (shidou & rin).

VERA. what’s better than egoist soccer players? egoist street racers. you know what could be better than egoist street racers? the reonagi divorce arc in hd— oops, lmao. you know what could be better than the reonagi divorce arc in hd? season 2 premiere this week and sae has more screen time! i also bought a reo figure in his high school soccer uniform to celebrate, and it was the last one too. lucky!

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ISAGI YOICHI

the heart. quickly becomes popular for his freshness to the arena. isagi is a good friend of kira, so there’s one more person you can trust. while in his care as kira meets up with his team, he gives you a tour of blue lock to keep you entertained. sweet and kind, he fetches you water and asks if you feel alright because the racers have been ogling at you since you arrived. interrupted by an uproar caused by a racer who is standing on his car with paint all over his body, isagi is beyond irritated.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. BACHIRA MEGURU

the monster. obsessed with spray paint and loves decorating his car with it. bachira is terrible at being an artist. playful and cheerful outside, he holds amateur art performances for the crowd before races to get them pumped up. his gaze makes isagi flinch when he is told by the latter to quiet down. you can still hear the warning of staying close to someone you trust. he emits a dangerous aura, a strong first impression. bachira feels the same when he’s up at your face, studying you intensely.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. CHIGIRI HYOMA

the surge. the fastest racer in blue lock, securing victories at the speed of light. as chigiri approaches bachira to scold him for scaring newcomers, his beauty is so unreal that you don’t even realize you’ve been staring at him. he apologizes for his friend’s antics, justifying that he acts like this before a highly anticipated race. unfortunately, chigiri is not in this one due to a leg injury but luckily has someone helping him to stay in shape: an orange-haired racer waiting at the garage in his car.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

the hero. kunigami has the highest endurance in blue lock, outlasting all racers in long-distance races. he acts like an older brother as he is very protective and solves issues in a civil manner, balancing out his friends’ hot-blooded personalities. kira trusts him enough to take you home as your best friend has matters to take care of. you thank kunigami for the ride and being nice to you. embarrassed, he says he’ll see you at the race and nothing else before zooming away.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. BAROU SHOUEI

the king. barou is the racer that kira complains about for as long as you can remember. he’s selfish and arrogant based on what you gathered so far from kira, claiming that the venue is his throne and the next race is his for the taking. his attitude fits your expectations; you already dislike him upon the first encounter. barou has the audacity to “claim” you as his prize when he wins this race. you’ll definitely follow kira’s advice to avoid him for sure when you see this guy again.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. MIKAGE REO

the heir. reo considers kira to be one of the best in the arena, besides his best friend, nagi, of course. a master of negotiations due to his status as the future chairman of a corporation, he hopes you will find his terms reasonable and collaborate with him as a business partner. but what he doesn’t expect is you playing hard to get. a pretty rich boy does deserve wild goose chase, making his pursuit exhilarating just like races at blue lock. nagi thinks that what he is doing is a waste of time.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. NAGI SEISHIRO

the genius. most people are happy with their achievements, but nagi does not care less as they’re essentially reo’s efforts. all he cares about are his video games and his cactus until you arrive to the arena with kira. all of a sudden, he attempts to impress you; “attempts” being the keyword. yet reo does the work once again by introducing him to you as his precious treasure and brags that you will see nagi’s full potential at the upcoming race. nagi doesn’t find you to be a bother, so he hopes to see you again. 

𝄞༉‧₊˚. YUKIMIYA KENYU

the model. his charm is the focal point of his character, which drives the audience nuts. curious by nature, yukimiya wonders about the qualities you possess other than being “kira ryosuke’s girl” and how you manage to get the likes of barou, who treats everyone like trash, and nagi, who thinks of only going home, at your whim. seeing you teach nagi about car anatomy allows him to introduce himself. he believes that there is something special about you, but a friend of his thinks so otherwise.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. OTOYA EITA

the ninja. otoya claims to be not like his fellow racers and prefers to stay in the shadows. he doesn’t see you as an angel sent by god in the form of a mechanic to fix their cars, not understanding why everyone is smitten by you. he isn’t interested in interacting with you at first, however, that is proven wrong when yukimiya makes you laugh at a silly joke. it’s rude to make you feel unwelcome, so he decides to give you a chance. a crow- like racer mocks him for thinking he doesn’t find you attractive one bit.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KARASU TABITO

the assassin. all about good vibes and good times, karasu does not want anyone to act “mediocre” around you. many newcomers are notorious for never setting foot in this place after their first round. he is relieved to hear that you came at your own volition thanks to kira. majority of racers you met so far are nice to you, so he doesn’t need to worry about making an impromptu spiel of why blue lock is great. if you think he’s too friendly for your taste, what about the guy stalking you right now.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SHIDOU RYUSEI

the joker. unrestrained both in words and action, shidou goes about his day and does everything as he pleases. judging by how yukimiya, otoya, and karasu are quick to shield you, he’s bad news. the altercation grabs kunigami’s attention, who he has massive beef with. being “kira’s girl” doesn’t phase him, nor your best friend going after his head for being near you. one of his rivals isn’t amused by the ongoing circus act, as if he didn’t break his nose in the previous race.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ITOSHI RIN

the puppeteer. rin has a score to settle with his older brother, sae, who is betting on shidou for the next race. physical violence is a usual solution to settle arguments, and it’s worse for rin to be involved in another fight with shidou, especially before a race that determines his fate and prove to his brother that he’s the best of the best. he doesn’t spare a glance at you or ask if you’re alright, as sae walks into the garage to check out the commotion.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ITOSHI SAE

the prodigy. sae is one of the top eleven racers at the underground. you now know that he is betting on shidou for the upcoming race. rin does not seem pleased. even if it’s not obvious at face value, everyone can tell that there’s bad blood between the brothers by the intense atmosphere created from their staring contest. sae looks at you then at his brother, who he scoffs at for his lack of concern for you. for a girl to experience this in the first week, he’ll stop by your shop as reparation after the race.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Their favourite part of you (physically)…

includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)

tw: some nsfw (mainly Art - who’s surprised)

Michael

Your face and your waist/stomach; Michael likes being able to read your every micro expression and communicate without your words as well as his own (something about him not needing any words to understand you is satisfying to him - instinct responding to instinct), often rests his head on your stomach when cuddling regardless of whether his mask is on or not, and is usually holding your waist when getting freaky with you. Likes being able to pick you up by your waist and just place you down wherever he feels inclined to, that sense of control.

Pinhead

Impossible to answer. If you ask Pinhead this question and insist he answers, he will pace back and forth before disappearing through a portal to Hell, incapable of dissecting what he believes to be the masterpiece that is your body in favour of choosing one specific part of it over the rest as his favourite. Will literally debate it in another realm for 100 years before returning to you (where approximately 3 minutes have passed in our time) to tell you he has made a choice: your heart. You roll your eyes and tell him that doesn’t count, but he already has the perfect answer prepped because he knew you’d query his response:

“Your heart is what powers the rest of you, my dear. Without your heart, you would be an empty vessel. A beautiful one, but empty. Your body is most beautiful, living, and it is your heart that ensures such a state of being. For that, your heart is my favourite part of tour body.”

Brahms

Will sulk in the walls and refuse to talk to you if you ask him to pick a part of your body and I’m so serious; he literally adores you. When you explain that he can give different answers for different reasons (such as sexually/romantically/what part of you he’s most innocently attracted to) he’s more inclined to think about it. At that point, he’s happy because he can give more than one answer - that’s more fair, Brahms thinks. So, romantically he would say your lips. Innocent attraction, he would say your eyes. Sexually?

“…Every part of you I’ve been inside.”

Art

Easiest question you’ve ever asked him. His answer is one simple gesture: 👌🏻

It’s your hole. Any hole you’ve got. That’s his favourite part. If there’s one thing Art loves more than anything else, it’s playing with something dark, wet and warm that he can stuff fingers or…other things into.

If you asked him for a more in-depth answer that sounded slightly less like you’re his own personal fleshlight, Art would pause, then go: 👉🏻😃👈🏻

Your smile, because he likes seeing you happy. He’s not exactly a romantic, but he is very playful.

Sun and Moon

Surprisingly, both Sun and Moon are in agreement that your face is their favourite part of your body, but it is for very different reasons; Sun likes holding your face, cupping your cheeks, tracing your cheekbones with mechanical thumbs; Moon likes your face because yours is the only face that gives Moon kisses. They are also both capable of reading your expressions incredibly well (they have images of your every microexpression stored as vitally important information in their systems), and they treasure doing things just to see the reaction on your face. Backflips, magic trucks - anything to see your eyes light up.

Marta

Your womb - okay, hear me out on this one, because before you jump to conclusions I’m not suggesting anything relating to hardcore fisting. Marta’s favourite place to touch you is your lower abdomen, her fingers splaying over where your womb rests in a protective gesture. To her, that is the purest part of you, that she protects from the foul seed of men. It is a sacred place in which God plants children, but your path of purity (lesbianism x) renders it an unspoilt treasure. It is rare Marta would kneel before you, but whenever she does, it is usually to place a kiss over the skin of your tummy, where your womb resides.

[lych33dragoncookie]

Alright. Chapter 6. Boy do I have some choice words about this one.

Let's start small, though. With Spice being a fucking freak.

Look, I'm a Dragon Ball fan. I'm easy to please with this kind of thing. You give me a character who is really weird about fighting and I'll hoot and holler about it all day long. This isn't a generic "Villain plays with their food, this ends up being a terrible mistake later" situation; Spice could have killed her right there and then, much like Flour intended to do with Dark Cacao when his soul jam was stolen, but here? Nah. He wants to coke this woman up for a chance at a good fight with her and her in specific. Weirdo. I like him.

Smoked Cheese continues to be really really good this update, by the way. I couldn't be any more glad to have him here.

He's blunt. He knows how to strike a nerve, how to push someone's buttons; just because he's undeniably on the side of good, that doesn't mean these inherent traits of his' are gone. They're being repurposed, the same methods going towards a better end, he's still undeniably him, no one else would speak up to the queen like this, he knows what makes her tick, and he's using that to drag her off of the ground and bring her back up. I'm absolutely loving every bit of it.

This chapter also does a really good job of accentuating the sheer contrast Golden Cheese and Burning Spice have as rulers, with the former having outright raised her closest subjects, keeping them on an equal level, and providing for them with no hesitation or restraint, while the latter keeps his subjects in line through fear and nothing more.

Specially because, later on, it's shown that it's not at all empty threats...

He fucking killed her.

This is entirely unprecedented. I don't think we've ever seen anyone kill another character, NPC or not, onscreen. Elder Faerie didn't so much die from being murdered or anything, as much as he gave away his own life force and all that stuff to White Lily so she could deal with Shadow Milk This isn't that. This is a character being unceremoniously, ruthlessly killed, even if it wasn't a playable one. A cookie, no less; not any of the little animals, who despite their sapience wouldn't have had the same sort of impact, no, he instantly reduced this one cookie to nothing without any hesitation or remorse, and threatened to do the same to her grieving followers immediately after.

Golden Cheese keeps her followers by giving without any restraint, while Burning Spice keeps his followers by letting the threat of destruction loom over their heads constantly, willing to take from them the moment he gets an excuse to, or just because he feels like it.

And, speaking of him; while this update didn't give us a glimpse on how he started, that "first kingdom" that he ruled and presumably saw wither to dust, we did get to see something else.

His breaking point.

Admittedly, I feel like if one were to observe just these 2 story chapters, cutscenes alone, they'd get the wrong impression. If we look outside them, we're well aware that Burning Spice was once a benevolent figure, and that even now he avoids thinking about the first kingdom he ruled. With that context, these lines make a lot of sense.

Despite being the herald of change; time, change itself, was not kind to him. Burning Spice shows us the inherent pain of the idea of immortality. Of how futile it would feel to get attached to absolutely anything, knowing it'll all just wither away sooner or later, and you'll outlast those very things. After an innumerable amount of time, seeing entire civilizations rise and fall, over and over again, becoming more and more desensitized and numb to it all after the great pain of that first loss, it's no wonder it would all end up feeling utterly pointless. Why get attached if it'll all become nothing eventually? If by getting attached, you're just leaving yourself vulnerable to the pain of loss again? Why have any interest in this newly sprouting life if it'll all just wither away like all the ones before? Life, unfortunately, is limited. Fleeting. And while that already causes great pain to those possessing mortal life, at least they too know that it won't be forever. That we're all on the same ground, and that we can make the best of the time we have. But if all you have is time, time that nothing else around you has, then...

Eventually, without a strong will and the right philosophy, it will drive you mad. And that's exactly what happened here. Life may be fleeting, something irreplicable yet completely limited; but just as there will always be life, there will always be a way for that life to be extinguished. Life is unrepeatable and unique, but destruction? If you find pleasure in destruction, you always have something to look forward to. The feeling caused by razing everything to the ground is perfectly replicable, something that can't be taken away from you. It's immediate, final, and requires no pain or attachment. Empty and unfulfilling, yes; but painless and addictive.

There is no greater pretense. There is no long term. There is no end goal.

It's just all about getting addicted to the thrill of senseless, heart-pumping violence. If there's always something to destroy, there's always something to look forward to, after all; something no one can take away from you.

... Of course, this isn't to say any of this is correct. Obviously not. The complete improbability of a scenario where one cannot die of old age aside, this is the complete opposite of how you should approach this. You can keep reminders of said fleeting life, find attachment to things that will last just as long as you, make sure to never forget all the experiences that immortality has allowed you to form, and value what you have in the moment, making sure to let its memory and purpose live on through you. Something a certain someone else will, most likely, embody as her long, long lifespan continues.

Ok, this was all meant to be one post, but I have too many images to put here, and Tumblr really doesn't like that. So...

1/2

See you in like, another 30 minutes or so. Idk.

[heartfullofleeches]

You know I can’t stop thinking about an angsty Bugman scenario where, in the Childhood best friend!Darling setting, Darling learns that one day the god living inside Bugman is going to awaken properly and essentially kill Bugman, prompting Darling to just breakdown sobbing for their first and only friend and pleading for Bugman to not die even if their fate is sealed and neither of them can do anything to stop it

Why would you do this to me, Chief. Like- good soup, without a doubt, but my heart hurts for these angels. Imagine making a really close friend as a child, but instead of you drifting apart or one of you moving away someday their body will be taken from them by one of the things you're scared <- Childhood Best Friend Reader in this storyline had a fear of bugs as a kid.

-

You still remember the day like it was yesterday. A promise made between friends upon which wove your separate futures along a conjoining path, avowedly destined to outlast the trial of time and the seasons of change as you both grew.

"Are you ready, Bug?"

Small, beady little eyes snap upwards from the large stone you finally manage to get a good grip on after several, harrowing attempts. A damp slab of smooth stone wasn't the easiest thing for your tiny hands to grasp, but the additional moisture apparently attracted more prey. Clutching the mason jar tighter to their chest, Bugman nods their head not once, but as many times it takes to give them a minor head rush - spurred on by the joy of having someone in their home, using the correct name it had picked out for itself years ago.

"On the count of three. 1....2....3!"

Driving your heals into the dirt, you pull upwards - lifting the stone inches off the earth floor as Bugman sets their jar amongst the grass to prepare for the scurry. Your skin crawls as you hear the pitter patter of tiny legs. It'd take a lot more than your friend's obsession with them to make you tolerate bugs, but the least you could do was making chasing them slightly easier for Bug whenever you visited.

"There's so many, Bug..." So many lives under one rock. You'd probably be more enthusiastic if a beetle hadn't made a beeline for your shoe, burrowing its way between your shoelaces as you do everything to avoid kicking the poor creature away. You might not have been the biggest fan, but that didn't mean you wanted to hurt them.

"Bugman, there's one on my-"

"I see her. Don't move, she won't hurt you." Bugman cups their hand, guiding the beetle onto their palm as you do what you're told. It strokes a finger along the insects thorax before carefully lowering it into their jar. Bugman gazes up at you once more, dipping their head in gratitude for your cooperation.

"Thank you, Y/n. On her behalf."

"What are you thanking me for, Bug?"

"You could have easily flung her off or stepped on her. I am aware we do not an interest in insects, but I appreciate your support."

"What are friends for, Bug? Besides, just because I don't like them doesn't I want them to suffer."

"Friends...."

The word sits heavy on their tongue. Soft laughter plays throughout the garden before they can ask the question that's been plaguing them for some time now. With the chirp of bugs and the flow of running water, the sound may have gone unnoticed had it not been joined by another voice. Surveying the area, a hand rises in the air from over by the water fountain - beckoning the two of you over.

"Forgive us for interrupting. Would the two of you mind joining us for a minute? We have something for you."

Exchange a glance with Bugman, all it takes is for you to take a step forward before the both of you race across the grass. Something you picked up on weeks into hanging out with Bug was how they liked to give you the lead. Two young women sit at the bench below the fountain. Both appeared to be in their early twenties. One had pink streaks in her hair while the other wore her sweater hoodie overhead. They smile at you, lowering their heads as Bugman matches up behind you. The one with the pink hair speaks first, patting the empty bench between them.

"Good afternoon. You two have been busy today, haven't you? I think I speak for all of Bug's family when I thank you for stopping by. I've never seen them smile quite like they do when they have you over."

Bugman hides their face in their turtleneck, mumbling into the thick fabric. "That's not true...."

You always found it so cool Bugman had so many siblings. It's like there's a new one every time you come over. Maybe their parents foster. You don't know much about them. The pink haired girl snorts.

"My bad! Anyway, like I said, we have a present for you. It's a gift for you both. Now before we give it to you, we have to ask. You two are friends, aren't you?"

There it is. The question Bugman had been dreading. You've called them by that title before, but there's a worry in the back of their mind that you are simply stringing them along until you find another, better friend. Did you really enjoy spending your days with the kid your other peers wrote off as strange and bizarre.

Assurance came to them in the pride of your voice as you happily announced.

"Of course! Bugman is my best friend!"

Best? The hooded girl spits a wad of chewed gum onto its wrapper, turning her body to face you fully. It's then you see a small box in her lap, filled to the brim with small beads and charms.

"That's all we needed to hear. If you two are really best friends you need what all best friends need?"

"What?" Bugman hides deeper into the neckline of their sweater as your voices overlap. You smile from ear to ear, furthering their embarrassment. The girls roll up their sleeves, presenting matching bands around each of their wrists.

"You need friendship bracelets. We'll help you make them."

"Whoa..." You march forward as the girls place the box within reach on the bench. So many beads and charms. There's even a few bug themed ones. Bugman will really like those.

"This is so cool, Bugman! If we never talk them off that means we'll be friends for life, yeah?"

"For life?.... You really want me around that long?"

"Why wouldn't I?" You stick out your pinky finger, holding it up for them to take. "We'll be best friends forever!"

Bugman stares at your outstretched finger. Picking up their confusion, you quietly whisper. "It's a promise, silly. Wrap your finger around mine and we have to keep it. Best friends forever?"

Bugman locks their finger with yours. "Forever...."

-

"....."

"Say it isn't true, Bug."

You always knew Bugman was special, but - not like this. How could they keep this from you for so long? Were they aware of this from the start? Did everything you say that day.... All plans and wishes you made together - did they mean nothing anymore?

"I apologize for not telling you sooner, Y/n. If it makes you feel better, I have already made sure that no harm will ever come to you. The being inside me is many things, but they will not go back on their word. I understand if this all is too much to bare. I do not blame you if you hate me now."

"Hate you? Hate you?" Angry tears stream down your face as you clutch their shoulders for balance. Sadness and rage quakes you to your very core. "Bugman, all I want is you! I want my best friend to be here with me. I don't want to lose you to some...some... bug god that's already been dead for centuries. This is your body, your life we're talking about here! Don't you want to be here with me too?"

It hurts. White hot, shearing pain rips through Bugman's ribcage as you sob pathetically against their chest. The air they breath is like sharp glass in their throat. What are you doing? This feeling - they've never had it before. Are they dying now? Is this what death feels like?

Bringing their arms around your shaking body is all that relieves this ache. Bugman realizes as you slam your fist against their chest that this is not death. It's heartbreak.

And it's so, so much worse.

"On the bright side, there is no telling when I will die. It could be any day now. It could be at the natural end of my lifetime. All we can do is hope for the best and relish the time we have together now."

"You better.... You better stay with me until we're both old and grey. I won't forgive you if you leave me before then."

Bugman rolls their fingers over the beads tied around your wrist. As children, you both made your bracelets slightly too big so they would follow you into adulthood. They fit perfectly now.

"I promised once that I wouldn't leave you. That is a promise I intend to keep."

[reagent-leon]

GUYS!!! Stop saying Coyle is singing his ABCs wrong!!

"T, P, D, A, T, F, C, I, A, F, B, I, U, S, P, I, S, D, O, D, S, S, S, U, S, A."

He's not singing his ABCs he's just using the same tune, they're all acronyms

TPD = ?*

ATF = Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives

CIA = Central Intelligence Agency, 

FBI = Federal Bureau of Investigation, 

USPIS = United States Postal Inspection Service,

DOD = United States Department of Defense,  

SSS = Selective Service System, 

USA = United States of America

Okay? So let's all stop saying he's uneducated or illiterate because he's definitely not. Pre-Sinyala Coyle kept "obsessively complete notes" according to Clyde Perry's account, and furthermore just look at his pretty handwriting on the evidence boxes, that's not an uneducated scrawl. Coyle is willfully ignorant, but he's not lacking in basic literacy skills.

"But Leon, why did he misspell Guilty as Giltee on the Scapegoat?"

Well, friend, I don't entirely know. But as he's spelt it correctly in other places, he probably did it on purpose, matching his dialect to emphasise his point. Maybe he just forgot about the U and by the time he'd started carving the L he knew he needed to commit to his fuck up.

*Sooo I have some theories as to what TPD could stand for.

Total Permanent Disability. In one of Coyles' dialogues, he mentions his Father losing his foot in the Battle of Hürtgen Forest. That injury would likely see him permanently disabled and unable to work as he had before (it's implied that Coyles' parents were cattle ranchers), therefore he would be entitled to welfare checks.

Tulsa Police Department. Tulsa and Blackwell are within 2 hours drive of each other and it's very possible that Coyle completed his training at the Tulsa Police Academy before going on to work for the Blackwell Police Department. Tulsa also has history of violent racism, which would appeal to Coyle.

Tactical PSYOPS Detachment/United States Psychological Operations. There was extensive use of psychological operations in World War II, and given everything that the Outlast Trials are about I think this is a worthy contender.

Tobacco Products Directive. This was the only other thing I could think of that would make sense in conjunction with Coyle, but it's a European Union directive, and therefore I think it's unlikely this is what Coyle is referring to, but I still thought it was worth mentioning.

If you have any better ideas please feel free to share them!

A big big thank you to my friends in the Coyle Crew: @misa-bun @soggy-bean and @mortisdeth for their help in researching, theorising and giving me moral support when I thought I was about to lose it

[meanbossart]

What horror games have you played/wanted to play? Also have you tried any rpg maker horrors?

I actually don't play that many horror games, I don't think? Between you and me most of them are... Kind of garbagee. But I like when really weird things are taken dead seriously, which most video games don't succeed at. But in the rare time they DO, it usually falls into the "horror" genre at least loosely. I'm just going to list my favorites:

PS: I'm really showing how insufferable I am with these summaries, sorry!

The Outlast series: the most Tasteful tasteless gory-shit-fest of a horror series I've ever seen. I don't like shock for the sake of shock, and Outlast somehow manages to always make it for the sake of SOMETHING. The original game+DLC is a buttload of fun, and if you pull back one layer it also poses some interesting and difficult questions about the place and treatment of the criminally inclined in society. Pull yet another layer back and you find a fascinating subversion of the expected role men are supposed to inhabit in horror games. The second game is a vastly different, and profoundly emotional experience, opinions on it vary for reasons I find very understandable, but I personally really like it.

Fear & Hunger: I guess this answers your question about RPG horror games! Unfortunately, this is the only one I ever played that I liked, but REALLY like it, I have a tattoo of the circle of perfection on the back of my hand, even, lol (I already had other hand tats, don't freak out). I just really like the absurdity of the story and all of the lore that the developer has cooked up for it, and the way it all matters but also kind of doesn't. I think its an insane feat to have achieved the atmosphere he did with the limited tools he has, not to mention the massive amount of respect I have for any creator that simultaneously wears their influences on their sleeves while displaying massive creativity and originality.

Pathologic: This game kind of speaks for itself honestly. Its just brutal, creative, infuriating, I could go on - It's probably the most immersive experience I've ever had in a game. If you've never played it before I would suggest buying Pathologic 2 (don't worry about it) and playing it completely blind. Forget about "winning", forget even about succeeding, just go about it as if you were in the protagonist's shoes and see where you leads you.

Scorn: Without a doubt in my top 5 games of all time and I don't care that that is an insane take. This game is everything I want from interactive stories - entirely intuitive, doesn't spoonfeed you a single grain of its lore or pushes its story on you, it just puts the pieces in your hands and its up to you to feel it on instinct. This 5 hour game with no dialogue, no text, not even any named characters to speak of had me crying at its ending and I didn't even know whether I was sad or overjoyed. I fucking LOVE scorn.

Honorable mention:

The Space Between by Christoph Frey (not to be confused with The Space INbetween.): Is a short, 30 minute experience about intimacy presented through a horror lens. I really don't want to say anything else about it, but I played it like 5 years ago and I still hold it near and dear to my heart. It's a master's guide to storytelling through semiotics and exemplary in it's... Emotionally charged visuals? Like, I had never before seen a story make sentiment into and external, tangible thing quite like this one does, like turning sound into an object or something. Amazing little indie game.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 13

This is it guys, the chapter of this fic. I have had an absolute blast writing and even more so reading all the comments and tags.

This last chapter is dedicated to all those who wanted the moms to bring Steve into their fold. This was also chance for Steve to rip on the haters without fear of his parents ire.

Thank you so much for all the love and support for this little story.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

****

Claudia was waiting at the Byers’ front door when Eddie pulled up in his van and Steve hopped out.

“Eddie!” she cried happily. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Hey, Mrs. H,” Eddie said with a wave. “I’m just dropping Stevie off. We’re hanging out later.”

“That was sweet of you, dear,” Claudia cooed.

Steve in the meantime was pulling things out of the backseat of the van. Eddie looked over at him.

“You need help, darlin’?” he asked over his shoulder.

Steve shook his head. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” In lower voice he muttered, “I love you and I’ll see you later.”

Eddie gave Steve’s forearm a squeeze and then waved at Claudia. He backed out of the driveway and was soon gone from sight.

“We’ve got all sorts of surprises for you today, Steve,” she said gleefully clapping her hands together.”

Steve grinned at her. “Mrs. Peterson here yet?”

Claudia shook her head. “She’s always at least fifteen minutes late. Something we were banking on actually.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

But Claudia just ushered him inside. He set his stuff down and then handed her a tray.

“I made blondies,” he said, “I hope you ladies like them.”

She peeled back the foil and gasped. “Steve they look amazing!”

Joyce came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. “What looks amazing?” she asked peering over Claudia’s shoulder. She, too, gasped when she saw them. “Steve, you didn’t!”

Steve grinned. “Your sons always eat the ones I send home with them before they even get home, so I figured you’d appreciate these.”

She kissed his cheek. “You are a dear.”

Claudia laid them out on table next to all the other treats.

On the coffee table were a bunch of things under a large sheet with clowns on it.

“The three of us,” Karen began, “wanted to do something extra special for you after hearing what fun our children had at the Fair because you made sure they did. So we each contributed something toward your love of sewing.”

She lifted the sheet. Underneath was a beautiful sewing kit in navy blue, a light green Singer sewing machine that looked older than he was, and a stack of old patterns.

Steve’s lip wobbled as he raised his hand to his mouth in shock.

“You didn’t have to do this, ladies,” he whispered.

“The sewing kit is from me,” Karen continued. “It’s a beginner’s kit, but it has fabric scissors, a seam ripper, bobbins for your thread and different kinds of needles.”

Steve sat down and pulled it onto his lap. He opened it and as he lifted the lid, the top tray pulled back revealing the tray beneath. “Thank you.”

“The sewing machine,” Claudia said proudly, “is the first one I ever owned. When I got married I got a new one and I’ve been using that ever since. But this ol’ girl has a lot of love and life left in her, and I want you to have her.”

Steve looked up at her, tears forming in his eyes. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll break it? Or that my parents will find it and destroy it?”

Claudia knelt in front of him. “It’s gonna be kept at my house until you get a place of your own. You’re there all the time to see Dusty anyway, no one is going to notice that you’re there to sew now, too.”

“Plus,” Joyce said with a grin. “It’s a Singer. They’re a little hard to break. They’re one of the best machines and it will probably outlast your children. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Steve nodded, his lip quivering. Claudia kissed his forehead and stood back up.

“The patterns are from me,” Joyce said. “Whenever I would have a little extra money I would pick up a pattern or two at the drug store and bring it home. I picked a handful that I thought you’d like since you’re primarily making costumes. And if those work for you, next week I’ll bring another handful you might like.”

Tears started flowing down his cheeks. “Thank you. All of you. This is best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh honey,” Joyce said softly and suddenly Steve was being hugged on all sides by the moms.

They stayed like that until there was a knock on the door.

“That must be Olive,” Claudia said with a sigh. “I bet she brought those brownies that are totally store bought even though she insists it her grandmother’s recipe.”

Steve snickered. “My mom used to do that. I don’t think she fooled anyone either.”

Joyce grinned over her shoulder as she went to go answer the door. “Olive, dear! We were just getting started.”

“Oh?” the bright voice on the other side of the door cooed. “You’re usually in the full swing of things by now.”

Steve bristled. That meant she knew she was late and was doing it intentionally. He hated people like that. Acting like the rest of them were peasants meant to be waiting on her.

“Steve was just showing us the costumes he made for the kids for the Fair over the weekend,” Karen said sweetly as Steve hurried to get the things he brought to show off out.

Olive stepped into the house with a sneer. “I think it’s so sweet you’re indulging the boy, but I doubt he can hold a candle to Claudia’s years of experience.”

Wow, Steve thought. Not only did she insult him, but she insinuated Claudia was old. What was with this old bag?

Claudia smirked. “It’s true that I’ve been doing it for longer, but Steve has a real talent for it. Come see.”

Olive walked into the front room and Steve was struck by how much she reminded him of his mother. She had perfectly curled hair with not a single strand out of place. Her clothes were fitted and showed off her figure. Her makeup was flawless.

In short, Steve hated her on sight.

Joyce handed her the shirt he had made for underneath his tunic. It was flawless but understated.

Olive took the shirt and scoffed. “You couldn’t have done this, Harrington, you shouldn’t lie to your betters.”

Steve was already seeing red. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then.”

Joyce clapped her hands together. “All right, let’s get started. Steve, you can eat as much as you want, but just make sure to keep it away from other people’s projects.”

Steve smiled at her sweetly. “Of course!”

He knew that what she was really saying was that Olive Peterson might try something.

He sat in the armchair away from her and she glared at him.

“Is it all right if I work on my project first before you teach me how to use the sewing machine?” he asked just as she was taking a drink of punch.

Olive was forced to turn away and cough into her hand to avoid spraying everyone with the lemonade that Claudia had made.

Karen’s smile was feral. “I don’t see why that would be a problem, right, Claudia?”

“Of course not, Steve,” she replied warmly. “Just let me know when you want to learn and I’ll come over and help you.”

Steve nodded. He pulled out the materials that Eddie suggested he bring and got to work.

Eddie really liked that Steve’s bags had a lining because it protected the dice better, so Steve had brought along some materials he could use for that as well.

About halfway through his first bag, Joyce called out.

“Steve? What’s that pattern you’re putting on the bag?”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “It’s my signature! I embroider it on everything I do to make sure people can’t pass it off as their own.” He handed the bag over to her.

“Oh!” she cried in excitement. “This is the design you put on Will and El’s costumes when you did their alterations, right?”

Steve nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I know you made the clothes, but I thought it was a cute way to tie the two together like they were twins.”

“It was perfect,” Joyce said. “El still hasn’t stopped talking about how pretty your design made the dress.”

Steve blushed as he took the pouch back from her.

“I was talking to someone at the Renaissance Fair,” he said shyly, “and she wanted me make them clothes and things that she would sell for me. She even told me to make business cards in case someone wanted to commission me directly.”

“Oh Steve!” Karen cried. “That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and tilted her head. “I have to admit I’m a little jealous. That pattern is beautiful. I would love a handkerchief with that on it.”

Steve straightened up. “Yeah?”

Karen nodded.

“What color would you like?” he asked excitedly.

Karen tried to protest but he wouldn’t let her. In fact he managed to convince all but Olive to let him make them one for them.

It did, unfortunately take him to the end of the two hours, but he was excited to come next week.

“I’ll even host it at my place!” he said with a grin.

Olive sputtered. “Well I won’t be there if it’s at this young man’s house. That’s so inappropriate.”

The three other ladies looked at each other and then shrugged.

“Your loss,” Karen said dryly.

Olive stormed out of the house vowing that as long as Steve was part of the group she would never come back.

“Well that is a relief,” Joyce said, “I’m not the kind to speak ill of anyone, but we really got quite the upgrade!”

Karen clapped her hands. “Indeed. I can’t wait for next week. I’ve got a new project I’m starting and I found the best recipe for a chocolate mousse that I’ve been dying to try out.”

“Same time next week, ladies?” Steve asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Claudia agreed.

Then there came a loud honk.

Steve looked out the window and smiled. “Looks like my ride is here.”

He gather up his stuff, including the patterns and sewing kit and walked out to Eddie’s van.

He slid into the front seat.

“You have fun today, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, pulling out of the driveway.

“Yeah,” Steve said looking fondly at the house. “This has been the best weekend ever.”

Eddie grinned. “Well, it’s about to get even better, just wait to you see what I have planned for us today.”

Steve smiled as Eddie regaled him with his plans and nodded along.

Life was really looking up. He had a platonic soulmate, good friends, an amazing boyfriend, a hobby he enjoyed and could make real money from, and now a group of people to share that hobby with each week.

And to think it all started with a flier about the Renaissance Fair coming back to Hawkins.

“I can’t wait,” he breathed once Eddie was done.

Eddie smiled that sweet smile at always turned Steve’s insides to mush.

Yeah, Steve could honestly say that he was happy.

****

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[warwickroyals]

↬ Warwick Wives (1/7) | royal wives during the reigns of Louis I & Louis II, 1782 - 1817

W I L H E L M I N A was fifty-six at the time of her husband's enthronement, making her one of Sunderland's oldest queen consorts. Despite this, she was famed for her beauty and sharp wit. She had protruding, restless eyes, with a pleasant demeanour. Her representation was a source of stability during the monarchy's early days.

C H A R L O T T E was less shrewd than her mother-in-law. Undereducated and neglected, she came from an obscure German duchy on the brink of extinction. Charlotte’s desire for an informal and relaxed domestic life greatly influenced the upbringing of royal children throughout the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. She remains the most prolific of Sunderland's queens, giving birth to fifteen children—seven boys and eight girls��over twenty-one years.

A M E L I A is the earliest example of a Sunderlandian consort causing a media sensation. Emily, as she was affectionately called, was beloved by the country and her husband, Louis, then Duke of Woodbine. Her marriage stemmed from Sunderland's new alliance with the United Kingdom. This alliance ultimately outlasted the marriage, for Emily would die at age twenty-seven. Her death complicated Sunderland's succession; she and Louis had one son, five-year-old Prince Frederick, who was also of weak health.

M A R I A - C A R O L I N A was the antithesis of Emily—even their hair colours highlighted this. Where Emily was pleasant and free-spirited, Maria Carolina was moody and introverted; Emily was the daughter of a King, a product of the world's largest imperial empire, Maria Carolina was the daughter of a low-ranking prince from Sweden's waining Holstein-Gottorp dynasty. Where Emily was adored by her husband, Maria Carolina hated. The two cousins had never wanted to marry and Louis, still grieving his first wife, waited two years before consummating the union. Over time, Louis grew hostile toward his wife. Running hot and cold, he alternated between ignoring Maria Carolina and tormenting her mercilessly, sometimes driving her to tears.

"If I were to suffer such maltreatment would have hung myself from the balcony at Chester long ago" - Princess Wilhemina, writing on her sister-in-law's troubles

To escape her husband's bullying, Maria Carolina undertook a wide variety of public duties. Today, several institutions and charities bear the name Queen Mary Caroline. Despite her husband's apathy and her own shyness, Maria Carolina formed a loyal circle of close friends at court. It was only after Maria Carolina died in 1841, that Louis III expressed remorse for her mistreatment. He outlived her for another ten years.

King Louis III and Queen Mary Caroline had no surviving children together. When Louis's only son, Hereditary Prince Frederick, died without issue Sunderland was left without a clear successor, promoting the 1835 Succession Crisis. This crisis would last for twenty-five years and put an immense amount of pressure on the next generation of royal wives.

[TRANSCRIPT]

insp (1) (2)

[scyllas-revenge]

Leap of Faith

aka an Only One Bed headcanon with no context whatsoever

because this popped into my head and I wanted to be able to write and finish something for once god damn it. @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book this is for you 🥰

Legolas/Human Reader (gender-neutral)

Word count: 663

Rating: G

Read on AO3

New!! There’s a part 2 here!

Legolas is instantly flustered at the sight of the single bed, his eyes darting between you and the pillows and back again. Despite himself, he’s half-contemplating diving out the window to freedom—but at the look on your face, he forces himself to take a shuddering breath.

You’re more than happy to share the bed, you reassure him: there’s plenty of room, and you’re a heavy sleeper, so he won’t disturb you. But he rejects the offer smoothly. Elves do not sleep like mortals, of course, and he need not lie down to find his rest as you do.

For the first time, he regrets it.

Legolas is a gentleman: he turns away quickly as you slip out of your traveling clothes and boots and slide under the covers, but the rustling of your garments and slide of fabric against your skin is so loud in the silence of the little bedroom, so intimate, that his heartbeat lurches in his chest. By the time he risks a glance back at you, you’re buried in blankets and pillows, looking more at peace than he’s ever seen you.

And now there is nothing to do but wait for dawn.

He pours water over the coals in the fireplace as your breathing evens out in sleep. He paces quietly. He sighs. Time slips by, and his eyes dart to you more and more often.

He’s curious. That’s what he tells himself, anyway. Legolas has so rarely been around mortals, and the way they sleep is fascinating. You’re deeply, wholeheartedly asleep—no wide-open staring eyes, no mind still active and wandering, elf-like.  

He’s curious. Your chest rises and falls under the blankets, your breaths even, calm. In through the nose, with the slightest snore, then out through the mouth in a warm puff. He finds himself stepping closer to the bed, transfixed.

He’s curious. That’s all. His elven eyes can make out the darting of your pupils beneath their lids, the slight parting of your lips. He leans closer, unconsciously. Perhaps you’re dreaming—and he hopes, with a sudden jolt, that you’re dreaming of him. And as though in answer, your lashes flutter restlessly, a single word escaping your parted lips: “Legolas.”

Oh, fine. He’s far more than just curious.  

Legolas is perched on the bed beside you before he is aware of it, his heart in his throat. Perhaps it meant nothing—very likely it meant nothing, for rarely was there sense to be found in mortal dreams. He should move away, and stop staring longingly at your sleeping form. You would hardly appreciate it if you knew.

Or would you? You had invited him to share the bed with you, after all.

Thoroughly defeated, Legolas slips under the covers to join you. Even in sleep, you’re enough to overpower him. And even in sleep, you turn toward him, clutching at his torso and pressing yourself close. His breath hitches.

Your hands clutch tight to his tunic as you nuzzle into his side, and Legolas curls against you, your legs tangling together. A shudder runs through his body.

He breathes in and out as evenly as he can, in imitation of you, and closes his eyes against the pillows, just as you did. Perhaps he can sleep as you do, just this once, so he can survive this overwhelming closeness. Keep his eyes shut tight and his mind closed off from the world, so he can outlast it.

It frightens him for a moment—the uncertainty of his tight-shut eyes, the lack of awareness of the wider world. How odd this mortal sleep is. It feels like a leap of faith. But your breath is warm and even against his neck, your hair soft as it splays against the exposed skin of his neck and collarbone, and his heartbeat slows, sleep—true sleep—stealing over him at last.  

This leap is an easy one to take, for he has faith in you utterly.  

[fidogo]

ghost x reader, but what if he's a literal ghost wc: 0.8K warnings: violence (but like dream violence lol), use of good girl part one

Your paranoia gets worse. Pipes creaking and reflections in windows make you jump. 

You’re ashamed to admit the amount of times you think you see Simon, only to be met with dark corners. Your new house, once a blessing for the amount of rooms and space, has become a place you do not recognize. Your home is not safe anymore. 

Despite not seeing Simon since the attic, the prickling sensation of being watched never leaves you. You feel eyes on you at all times now. Never alone. 

Your friend lets you crash on their couch for a few days. As you lock the door to your house, your stomach sinks, unsure if this is the right decision. But you need a few days to think about your options. 

You certainly can’t move out. It’s way too expensive to find a new place to live or stay in a hotel long-term. You could couch surf until you sold the house… but that just feels like avoiding the problem.

You toss and turn on your friends worn couch cushions, eyes glued to your phone screen as you google how to talk to a ghost. The medium and priest couldn’t help you before, but maybe…maybe you could help him move on? You would just need to somehow summon him.

On the drive home, you can’t help but think that this could work. Maybe he’s friendly.

Then the nightmares start.

Nasty things with sharp claws, you wake up in the middle of the night, nauseous. Tendons splitting apart, hot blood spewing everywhere, and bone-chilling shrieks. It’s horrible, absolutely horrible.

Sleeping elsewhere does nothing to fix the problem. The dreams follow you to other houses and beds. No, it's better to save your money and dignity and deal with the nightmares at home.

You start to dread going to sleep, and you try to force yourself to stay awake watching whatever garbage is on at 2 am. Anything's better than feeling those cigarette burns, hearing those wails, feeling your skin peel off. You’ve woken up in tears once or twice. 

The lack of sleep takes its toll on you, physically and mentally. Melatonin, meditation, journaling, nothing helps. 

You’re in the middle of a particularly bad dream, being chased by something big and dark with sharp teeth. You’re tearing through the darkness of your dreamscape, trying to outlast whatever it is behind you.

It’s a fool's errand of course. You’re going to end up right in its grasp, neck clenched inside its massive jaw. You can already hear the bones snapping, feel the blood dripping down your neck and-

And then nothing. 

You’re ripped out of the terrifying scene, and instead, you’re somewhere…peaceful? It’s still dark and shadowy here, but you no longer feel the sense of terror. Something’s different. Your eyes eventually adjust, forcing sense and reason to shape the shadows into a waiting room. You squint. 

Well, that’s weird. But you feel safe here. 

Something heavy weighs on your torso, and your eyes blink open, face twists into an unpleasant expression at waking up after finally getting some rest. 

Two dark eyes blink back at you. You freeze, scream caught in your throat as the terror begins to rise. 

“That better?” Simon asks in a gruff voice. Your fear gives way to confusion. That’s when you finally analyze the situation you’ve woken up to. 

Your friendly/not-so-friendly ghost straddles you with his hands against your temples. He’s hunched over, his face hovering close to yours. Swathes of darkness keep him smudged in your vision. His face feels more like smoke, nothing truly solid except his eyes. 

A ghostly hint of an eyebrow raises at you, and his head tilts. 

“What?” you ask in a daze, unsure if your dream has turned stranger. 

“The nightmare. Better?”

Oh. You nod, thinking of the warmth and safety that had washed over you at the end.  He grunts, satisfied. 

You stay frozen beneath him, not quite sure what to make of your situation. The familiar prickling sensation you’ve been feeling returns, and you wonder if he has been watching you this entire time. And you wonder what made him intervene now. What changed…

Your ghost doesn’t move. He stays hunched over you, and you briefly note that you can vaguely feel the weight of him on your pelvis.

Something stirs to life in you.

But he doesn’t move. He either doesn’t realize the impropriety of this scenario, or he doesn’t care. Because he’s a ghost.

You feel warmth at your temples though, a vague sensation akin to someone massaging the muscles there. Your eyes grow heavy, and sleep sinks its claws into you once again.

“That’s a good girl,” you hear faintly, and you watch as he drifts into smoke and you into sleep.

You don’t have those nightmares again.