#we don't even talk about his sound design... the bone-foot...

[lostinthewoodsomewhere]

Alan Wake 2 you are a very spooky and scary game, but Remedy really peaked with this guy, he is the absolute worst, I have played this DLC like 5 times now and he still manages to terrify me, I hate him!!!

[jacksprostate]

It happens in Paper Street. Tyler is still gone. The building is oozing with monkeys, but on the upper floors where Tyler and I sleep, I am alone.

I am not alone.

There is two of me. I don't have a twin.

If there's two of me, then there might be two of Tyler.

Tyler would probably think killing myself to monopolize him and his clone is a step closer to bottom.

If there's not two Tylers, I have to kill him anyway.

All of this becomes clear to me in the time it takes for my clone to stare at me and shake his head and get his shit together.

I play it cool. I am so ZEN, he will not realize when I reach over to crush his windpipe.

I say, hey. This is weird.

"Yeah," he says, and my voice is way too loud coming from him. I don't like it. He needs to shut the fuck up. "Is Tyler here?"

I ask him, do you think Tyler would know why the universe broke? I ask him like he's asked me if Tyler would like to take a nice little shopping trip through the local designer stores and pay off the companies' tax breaks by giving hundreds to their check out charity.

I think Tyler would know why the universe broke, of course. He'd be the one to break it. Maybe this is another one of Tyler's little tests. This new version of me seems less certain of that fact, more like he's looking for his daddy's coattails, and now I really can't wait to punch his teeth out of his skull. He doesn't have the hole in his cheek, and I can see him watching it wink when I talk. He looks like a jealous rat.

We must both be Joe's Clenching Bowels.

I ask him, do you think we're different? Maybe there's a butterfly effect. Parallel universes. There has to be a reason he's so pathetic.

"I'm sure we are," he says, like he's telling his boss about sawing cross tips into bullets. Touching.

How'd you meet Tyler?

"On the plane. He gave me his number. Called him after my condo blew up."

I smile. I met him on a nude beach. He gave me his number. I called him after my condo blew up. Every word after nude turns my copy's face a bit ruddy, little tectonic nudges to the ring of fire.

"What were you doing on a nude beach?" he spits. "Gargling your boss's balls?"

Watching Tyler. Naked and sweaty, muscles flexing as he pulled around driftwood and pilings to sit in his own hand of perfection. I know I sound like a priest that wants to keep God for himself. I am.

"You're a fag," he says.

I think of my birthmark on my foot. I think of Tyler. I think of Marla. I think of how stupid this version of me is, to pretend he wouldn't get on his knees just for the chance of a taste of Tyler. Is that not how he got the kiss I can see on his hand? His Tyler must have had to lower his standards.

Best not to accuse others of things you're guilty of, I say. I'm willing to face any number of uncomfortable truths if it will get rid of him, I realize.

He's flustered. "No, no, it's not —" he waves his hands. "It's not like that with me and him. No."

Yes it is. It's not love as in caring, sure.

I step closer.

It's property as in ownership.

This must be why Tyler likes it. I see myself wither like a guy kicked in the balls on the first night he attends fight club.

I could be over that table every night for Tyler, I say. You would just be jealous. Just like you're jealous of Marla. Of that one pretty kid you probably pummeled into the ground too. Or did you not even have the balls for that?

Eliminate the competition. Face the truth only to drive it deeper into this jammed copy of myself. Win Tyler's affections. I have already seen the bones in my yard, I can tell, he has not.

One of us is committed. I pull my human sacrifices out of my pocket, throw them at him. One of us wants this. I get in his stupid face.

It's not you.

He swings at me, I'm fighting to the death.

"Tyler isn't here, is he?" he taunts me.

"Tyler left you."

"He doesn't want you anymore."

All things true, but maybe not once I kill you.

I am the abandoned dog, performing tricks so its owner will come home. I am myself, calling my father and telling him about graduating college, like it means fuck all to him. I am myself, pushing onto that next step on his list, anyway. Tyler's my new list, and he wants murder. I've known it. I'll face it.

He gets me in a headlock, hits me over and over, opening up that hole in my cheek. I go limp, drag him down, flip him over myself and grab his throat. I slam his head into the ground. It's soft, moldy wood, not concrete, so I have to start squeezing, instead.

Death will commence in five.

Five, four.

He's gasping, slamming his palm into my nose, breaking it over and over.

Four, three.

Three, two.

His body is shaking under mine. Seizing. He has the primordial strength of a man about to die, and I have the primordial strength of a man about to live.

Death will commence in two.

His eyes are rolling back. I can feel his throat giving in.

No more chance for breaths. It crumbles beneath my hands like the ribcage of a hummingbird.

No chances for evacuation.

Death commences.

Now.

On the upper floors of Paper Street, I am alone.

[koulakoukoula2003]

Hiii if you’re still talking asks for that WIP snippets ask game thingy, I saw that Broken Bones, Severed Heads features Underground crime lord Nathalie and that makes me so excited akskdk bc a) I read the fic you co-wrote, Red String of Fate and Nat was a badass in that and I love to see that elevated even higher, and b) my OC in the long aot fic I’m planning literally spends her entire childhood and early adulthood building a crime empire so… twinsies!! haha.

BRO YOU BETTER @/PM ME WHEN YOU POST THAT FIC OMG I'D LOVE TO READ ITTTTTT pls we need more badass OCs out there like I'M SO SICK OF THE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS TROPE who needs levi or erwin or some other hot man to save her like pls get your shit together and SAVE YOURSELF dkmfjhekw 😡😡😡

Also, TYSM FOR READING RSOF I enjoyed writing badass/depressed Nat soooooo much so I was like GOTTA WRITE MORE OF THIS EHEHEHEH

I'm tagging you, if you guys wanna have a look @shrekisshrimpthesimp @slavanimesimp 👀

so, lemme give you a snippet of Broken Bones, Severed Heads (I don't think that fic will have any romance in it lmao)

“She’s bad business,” Levi crossed his arms against his chest. He couldn’t believe Erwin was actually considering this. “I wouldn’t even think of working with her.”

“You never worked with her? In all your years in the Underground?” Hange asked confusedly. “But she owns the entire northern side of the district, there is no way you guys didn’t at least know each other,”

Levi was getting annoyed by this conversation. Apparently, some ambassadors in the government were trying to force another law that would further cut down the sponsorships for the Survey Corps and if that happened then it would be impossible to keep the Regiment going. Erwin was brought to a corner, and he was forced to use methods that he never thought he would. It was risky, but efficient.

Everybody knew about her. The donna of the Underground. The Queen of thugs. It was so strange to believe that a woman had thrived down there. A woman had created a business in the very place where all the brothels were located. In a place where women were nothing but meat. Objects to be used for profit. But no, she had a business down there. She owned so many brothels and businesses, from drug-trafficking to human trafficking. She had so many people working for her. So many soldiers. All so skilfully handling any kind of weapon they’d find in a fight. And their ODM gear was special. It was nothing like their own.

The rumours were, she had designed it herself.

“I never worked with her. I worked for her." Levi corrected Hange. "But I never stepped foot in the northern part. Nobody sane does,” Levi frowned.

“E- Excuse me, Captain, but… you almost sound scared of that woman,” Moblit said and Miche chuckled.

“Scared? He’s a step away from shitting his pants,” Miche teased only to receive a deadly glare from Levi.

“I’m not the one who should be scared. I could take her in a fight. But the rest of you? Tsk,”

“And that’s exactly why you’re coming with us,” Erwin stood up off his desk. “She has evidence to blackmail all three of our targets. She is the only one who can quietly convince them to never let that law pass,” He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. She’s the only chance we got. There is nothing else that I can do. Nothing else will work,”

Levi sighed heavily. He didn’t like this.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Blood of the King

Chapter 2 Warning: 18 + only, character death, slow dark burn, character death, dark theme abortion is talked about in previous and future chapters Note: this is another self indulgence piece for me. this is so boring because i cant do a quick transition. tried hard to whittle it down.  Any critiques are WELCOME. Summery: Loki has a plan to be King. Dark Loki x Black Reader, Royal AU

👑

After you depart from the Prince, his man took you below deck. The large cold compartment containing no windows. The little light it did offer came from various cracks in the ceiling.

When he left you alone you crumple to your knees, crying as the shock of all the events wash over you.

Your mother dead, your kingdom gone and you were sure the Prince was bringing you before the High Church. Your stomach turns and knots as you fret, while the ships rocking added to your growing nausea. What you had in your stomach found its way on the floor as you try to steady yourself against a pillar.

👑

You had never been to sea and if you lived you would never step foot on such a vessel again. The days and nights melt together as there was no way to tell between the two. While the silence left you with only your running thoughts as company. Your mouth grew dry and your body weak, the longer you stay kept in the darkened room.

When the door opened you had little energy to move, only meekly shying behind the pillar as the prince's man steps inside.

He said nothing only placing a bowl down with a leather sack, your stomach ached for whatever the contents. Along side it he also placed a ball of bunched up fabric before standing. "Drink and eat then change." Was all that he spoke before leaving you alone again. Weakly you hobble to what he left you.

The gruel filled you, but did not stay down. While the water quenched the desert in you throat. Wiping your hands and mouth as clean as you could you gently shake the fabric. You lay out a dress and apron carefully, setting it far from the sick you expelled.

You undress as fast as you can manage. The letter tumbling out and you ponder its contents as you stare at it on the floor.

The new garments more conservative than your kingdoms and fairly loose. King Stark preferred more skin on his slave's garments, so you wonder if the High church had a hand in the design.

The head dress covers your hair, and without mirror you configure it the best you can. The neckline of the dress came high, the sleeves touch your wrists, the hem sweeps the floor, and the new apron cinched in your baggy sides.

👑

Thankfully when he returned you were decent. "Follow me."  Motioning you to come forth, your legs felt weak as you follow behind him. Your hands clasp together and your heart pounds as you ready yourself for what is to come.

After days of darkness your eyes ache at the first burst of light. Ascending into the blinding sun behind the man, you shield your eyes and try to keep pace. Once your vision clears you quietly gawked at the scenery. Thickets of trees and mountains stood tall in the far distance with a massive castle nestled between. The vast greenery was unlike your homes, and much too cold. The freezing air bled through your clothes, making you more thankful for the conservative dress.

Your heart sank once you reach the plank. The sight of the  small fleet of armored men on horses had brought your mind back to the church. Though the two carts behind them seemed too fancy for a prisoners exhibition.

As you descended the plank the distinct voice of the prince caught your ear, along with a chorus of foot steps. You fought the urge to look back continuing on with the nameless man as he opened the door to the first carriage, urging you wordlessly to go inside.

You sat anxious as strangers crowded inside and to your relief the prince didn’t follow them. A signal was called, starting the journey beyond. Your eyes shifted between the strangers all dressed in dark colors with hints of deep green. You looked at your own garb, and noticed yours was starkly different.

They stayed silent, not even chatting amongst them, a reoccurring them as of late. The prince commanded silents and order to a frightening degree. Exhaustion bled through your bones as their silence mixed with the sway of the bumpy terrain. The days spent on the boat you found little sleep as you mourned for your mother and despaired about your fate.

You fought fruitlessly to keep your eyes open, but slowly slipped into a heavy slumber. It was the deepest sleep you found in days, but the piece did not last as a thunderous bashing jolted you awake. Frantically you look around to find yourself alone.

Where was everyone? Were you dreaming all along? Had you slept walked into the stables? The door opened to the cart revealing yet another stranger, tolling away at his task of inspecting and cleaning the carriage.

He spied you. "Don't be sneaking about napping in our carriages." His accent thick as he spat at you. "Get on before we both are forced to suffer."

Cautiously you do as your told, exiting the carriage. More men busied themselves with the horse while others scrubbed the outer carriage, keeping it pristine. You were indeed in a stable, but not that of your countries. You felt lost in a new world, wondering listless as people move to and fro unconcerned or bothered by your presence. All acting as if their countrymen had not burned your kingdom to the ground.

👑

"Hey" a high pitch shout catches your attention, you froze as the source ran toward you. Your heart beat sped up the closer she came.

"Healer please hurry! We need all hands" the healthy woman with rose rounded cheeks pants at you. She matched Loki's description, you look around as if someone else would give you confirmation, but there was none. Unsure you dig in your apron, palming the letter. If you were wrong what would happen ? Swallowing thickly before shoving it at her.

She eyes it curiously then took it, opening it. You wait slightly surprised that she understood the scribbles upon the page. Her cheeks turn pale before she balls up the letter, stashing it in her own apron. "Right then. As I said all hands" She sounded shaken and it did not help set you at ease. What had the prince placed in such a small letter? You stiffen when she hooks your arm, leading you through the massive area. You bristle when shouting, cheers and rowdiness grow louder as a crowd appear in the distance.

She didn't stop once nearing them, only shoving past with you in toe. You flinch as a chorus of boos and projectiles flew through the air. Following their trajectory you find more armored soldiers with a man in chains.  

It was as if the world fell quiet once your eyes recognize their prisoner. Your king, draped in chains, battered and bruised. The soldiers force him along, ascending the stairs to a stage, while your guide pulls you off to a tent built next to it.

As they pelt him, he takes it in stride. Barking and cursing back defiantly on the stage. By the luck of the gods King Stark's eyes found you amongst the chaos. Your heart and stomach sink to the floor as he follows your movements and you his. Soldiers surround him forcing him down before a stump set in the middle of the stage. He fought furiously as they forced him on his knees, kicking and punching until he fell. King Stark's face was painted red with blood and visibly dazed from the assault.

"All right I will leave you to it. I must find the others" she explains before leaving you at the entrance of the tent.

👑

The sight inside of the tent was maddening. Dried blood stained the rags they wore, expose flesh, and bone had your stomach tightening. Some parts you were sure needed to be removed due to their rancidness and discoloration. The prince greatly overestimated your medical expertise.

You felt light headed while others dress like you move without hesitation. You do your best to mimic their movements without acting suspicious. Did he only want you as a healer? Were you kidnapped just to be a slave for a different king?

You fill your arms with wrappings, a grinding bowl and herbs you were the most familiar with. Gravitating toward the mouth of the tent to a man sat closest to the opening. Thankfully it looked like he only needed cleaning and redoing of his bindings.

Cleaning him, he sat silently watching the stage, unbothered by you. Slyly you watch along with him as you work slowly, hoping he didn't find it strange.

The tent sat close to the stage allowing for a side view. The crowd burst into joyful cheers as a mountain of a man with golden hair steps up on to the stage. His smile was bright even from here, raising his hands in the air the people quiet themselves.

"We have conquered!" The crowd erupt again. You yelped when the men in the tent cheer along with the crowd. "Their kingdom now ours." He kicked Stark in the ribs as he stayed positioned hunched over.

"A payment for a sour bargain" He laughed as your king spit blood, barley able to move. The tall blonde commanded the crowd, they adored him. He reminded you of King Stark in a way.

The golden mane man lifted his steel from it sheathed to the delight of the crowd. Their Kings sword came down swiftly and stuck in the stump. Resting at an odd angle, while your kings body slipped to the ground.

Stark's head rolled and bounced upon the stage, before he grabbed it by its hair. Showing it to the crowd as Stark's blood trickled from it.

"Do you think you have wrapped me enough healer?" The soldier brought you back to your surroundings.

"Sorry" you whispered as your hands tremble while you knot it.

Moving from him you search for another with similar wounds, until another healer asked for your assistance. You nearly vomit at the task of picking magnets from a wound, while she prepared an ointment.

When you finished you realized the crowd had gone and the tent had thinned. "Good work ladies" the woman who brought you here announced loudly in the tent. "Our king is proud of you all. Finish up and come to the hall for the feast."

👑

[thegracelessfaceless]

If you are still doing matchups,, I'd be interested in a creepypasta one. I'm coming over from Elise blog.

So my name is Shay, I go by Whiskey because it's a preference in liquor on my end. I go by they/them pronouns, AFAB and I'm bi and omniromantic, I do have an mild preference for men or masc aligned people. I'm a Libra sun, Virgo moon and Aquarius rising. I'm also introvert (INFJ-A) and I'm constantly sleeply. I do have C-PSTD, Bipolar II and GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder).

I'm Caucasian/White and I stand at 5'9. I have celtic and Danish heritage, My family where vikings. I'm really tall and legs double the size of my torso, as in my thighs are as big as my torso in length, same with my calves. I call myself spider legs because of that. I have this natural like wolf cut going on that is this dark green with my roots be my natural dark chocolate brown hair. My eyes are hazel with gold flecks that shift in color which I found out is normal for people with hazel eyes. I paint my nails black a lot because I find the color pleasing. My build wise is like a rectangle like shape with broad shoulders. I'm pretty strong and I'm proud of my strength. I'm currently starting to get into shape and lose weight so I have fit shape but not like over for. Just the right amount of fat over my muscles. I have a lot of stretch marks,, mostly around my waist and my biceps. I call them my stripes or lighting marks. I have plans to get snake bite piercings and wear like the ring ones in them. I'm getting an tattoo soon that is like this and then I want a burning match tattoo on my color bone. My ears are piercing and I like wearing fake gauges, spirals and then the ratings that have the dangly stuff and cuffs with them. I also wear like those stereotypical hot topic chokers. I wear a lot of long sleeves and skinny jeans, I do like ripped skinny jeans. I also love flannels and black boots like doc martins or converse.

I think you can assume by the statement of me liking whiskey I am the rebellious sort which is true. I have drank a bit and tried weed, I don't do it anymore tho.I have been told if people don't know me and see me from afar I'm intimidating to approach. Even being spooky and intimidating, I promise I'm just a big softie. I usually assume the mom friend of the group with my friends. I always worry about them and make sure they take care of themselves. Sometimes I do it so much I forget to take care of myself. I'm really gentle and compassionate, along with being extremely empathetic. I can be stubborn and bit judgemental at times, mostly working off first impressions myself when getting to know each other. I have an hard time being insertive and putting my foot down with my boundaries, scared to lose people even if the hurt me. I'm an introvert through and through, liking to watch from the back and observe the way things go on around me. I do my best to be an optimist because I can't see the point in see everything wrong in this world, it helps me to see the good. I love going on adventures with my close friends and love being a chaotic bastard with them. My dnd alignment is chaotic neutral and I'm Hufflepuff. I do live by the saying do no harm but take no shit. But I won't hesitate to fight someone for the right causes.

I do always constantly look like I am going to funeral of some sort because I own nothing but black. The color makes me feel really comfortable but it's not my favorite color. My favorite color is green but I like sage green, forest green, mossy green, etc. The earthy greens are my favorites. I have a love for the forest and woodlands, finding a sense of home in the woods. I do love archery and something I'm definitely going to be picking up along with playing the drums. I also smoke herbal cigarettes as well as alternative to smoking.

I often get called a cryptid and at this point, I am just one. Cryptidcore, Midwest Gothic, and Pacific Northwest Gothic are my favorite aesthetics. I have a huge love for cryptozoology (the study of cryptids), parapsychology (the psychic phenomena and other paranormal claims), original creepypasta stories and to be honest anything like spooky and creepy. I want to be a mortician and I'm attending school for that. I also really love the dark, especially if I have some good music blasting through my earbuds. I am a sucker for long road trips and seeing things, filling the adventure heart I have. My favorite animals are coyotes and I also like horses. I like to write a lot as well.

Okay, first off, you sound so cool?! Like we should talk more 😃.

I match you with...

Hₑᄂₑ𝚗 ₒ𝚝ᵢ𝘴/ Bᄂₒₒ𝚍y Pₐᵢ𝚗𝚝ₑᵣ

(Not my art, unknown artist. Contact me with credit info!)

Helen gets the they/them pronouns. For the longest, the thought he was a weird girl. Then he had body dysphoria for a long time, and then he came to terms with his identity.

Helen is a Virgo to your Libra. Virgos admire Libra's clear mindedness and their drive for balance in all areas.

However, Virgos can have some trust issues. Just be there and patient with Helen. He'll get over those hurdles eventually.

Helen gets being an introvert, being one himself. He never had many friends growing up, his only close one being killed by bullies who then tried to blame it on him. Helen would be perfectly content if you two were the last people on Earth.

Helen loves how you look, like you're just 'classical' beautiful? He loves painting your eyes, trying to get that perfect mix of green and gold.

He recites Robert Frost to you because your eyes remind him of this poem:

"Nature's first green is gold/ Her hardest hue to hold/ Her early leaf's a-flower;/ but only so an hour./ Then leaf subsides to leaf/ So Eden sank to grief/ So dawn goes down to day/ Nothing gold can stay"- Robert Frost "Nothing Gold Can Stay"

Helen would enjoy painting your nails for you, maybe even painting little designs on them if you'd like

Helen would be so supportive in your fitness journey. He just doesn't want you to feel like you have to lose weight to please him or anyone else. He thinks you're perfect just how you are, just like he'd think you're perfect 50 pounds overweight or 50 pounds underweight.

Helen loves your stripes. Whenever you feel self conscious about them, he reminds you that the things that make a person attractive are groupings of flaws that work well with each other to make a beautiful face

OR

He tells you how the Chinese fill in cracked china and pottery with molten gold because the cracks make the piece more beautiful since it has more character.

Helen would love to design tattoos for you

He thinks it's sweet that you're Mom Friend™, but he's not going to let you drive yourself into the ground taking care of everyone else. So, now, you can't lift a finger around Helen. He waits on you hand and foot

He'll help you learn to be more assertive and stand up for yourself and what you believe in. He'll help you set boundaries and limits and he'll help you enforce them. One of his more important lessons is that you have no room in your life for people who hurt you, use you, or make you miserable.

Anyone that hurts you will be subjected to The Wrath of Helen Otis™

I feel like Helen wasn't a huge outside person before meeting you.

But between pictures on your camera roll of you and your friends' adventures and just listening to the way you speak about the Great Outdoors? He's intrigued as hell now and goes on a nature walk with you on an easy forest mountain trail, nothing too challenging or taxing.

And suddenly he just understood everything you'd been talking about.

A special activity he likes to do just the two of you is this: you think of and describe to him a cryptid and he paints it following your description. Then he listens to any stories or folklore for that cryptid.

Its normally exactly the way you pictured it in your head (it's actually pretty uncanny).

Thinks it's cool that you're going to mortician's school. He's always been interested in medicine, but can't tolerate all the patients. But a mortician... They do medical things and have the quietest patient that are just so agreeable! What a genius career path (seriously, I'm on a wait list for an interview with the coroners office (Low turnover rates 😑)

Helen also likes playing in paint worn you (but I'm thinking that deserves a whole post of its own)

Helen also likes to paint while you write (sometimes he paints you writing about him painting). Its beautiful, really. Just two people who love each other enjoying their hobbies together in companionable silence 😍