☆ Wonder Festival - Walter Sullivan ☆
Silent Hill 4 the room
Release date: 2013 Sculptor: Naotaka Ono

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Claire Keane
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Misplaced Lens Cap

pixel skylines

#extradirty
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Not today Justin
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oozey mess

JVL
One Nice Bug Per Day
Peter Solarz
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Product Placement

★
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER
we're not kids anymore.
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seen from Malaysia
@muttermal
☆ Wonder Festival - Walter Sullivan ☆
Silent Hill 4 the room
Release date: 2013 Sculptor: Naotaka Ono
silent hill 4: the room original soundtrack (european/japan version) track xi
i wish i could’ve known my mother before the world hurt her
my favorite interactions with walter’s victims are when walter genuinely wants forgiveness and he never gets it, because he doesn’t deserve it
“i need you to forgive me.”
He can’t hurt you. It’s the first thought that runs through Henry’s mind when he sees the man. He’s dreaming, of course. He always comes back here in his nightmares, but it’s the first time they have crossed paths. Usually it’s Stone, but it’s been a while for him. Lately, Henry has been alone, wandering through decrepit hellscapes. His hand clenches into a fist and he wishes he had something but then Walter speaks.
It’s not what Henry expected, if he expected anything at all. He’s thrown off, and perplexed. The statement doesn’t make sense. Or at least he can’t seem to understand it. There’s something hot roiling inside him, his nerves feel jittery, his face feels hot. He’s felt numb for so long, anger tastes unfamiliar.
Walter has the audacity to demand. It’s not a request, it’s not a plea. Henry’s jaw aches from how hard his teeth are clenched.
“I don’t really uh, care about what you need.” His fists shake. He remains where he is, though he wants to hit something. He remembers the satisfaction of a good punch as a kid and has to take a deep breath. “You ruined my life and killed innocent people and I had to watch them die. You don’t deserve it. I need you to leave me alone, but you and all of this–it won’t. So no, I won’t forgive you.”
“Your lips look so lonely. Would they like to meet mine?”
me whenever i see an active eileen pop up
caught feelings for this idiot again but no promises that i’ll actually rp, i just wanna tell y’all i’m here and i love all the stuff we’ve written
RED SPILLS AT his feet. He knows it’s borrowed time he lives on, but if this body could just hold on through another sickness, could just stop CONVULSING every time a draft blew in from the boarded up window, he could make something with that time Mother has given him.
Every inch is pulsating, telling him that this is not NORMAL, that sickness doesn’t feel like death, that vomit shouldn’t be swirling with blood, that this sight would terrify anyone who saw his gaunt but towering frame lurching over any time he moves too fast. He knows this is when a normal person would see a doctor, would seek out care.
But he is not normal. He is the very definition of abnormality, and it scares him more to know how truly abnormal he is than the thought of death taking him.
HE HATED THIS time of year. The bitterness returns to the air, and the foulness of the Otherside seemed to seep into the Living. There was death and fog and too many decorations out that tricked his senses. If he saw one more fake bloated corpse thrown about someone’s yard while walking at night, he was going to lose it. It’s not that he was FRIGHTENED; the thought that even he could not escape the nightmarish reality he had helped create brought some sort of existential dread upon the usually cool-headed man.
the mama’s boy is home, send him some love while i update rules and link stuff.
gunna clean up this blog and reboot it, fresh new start and all that jazz
AND SHE WILL PURGE THE WORLD WITH FIRE.
Stone gives him a cool stare.
He returned the stare ten times over, his lazy smile creeping up, eyes never crinkling to match his mouth. “I’m in a good mood today, Stone. Don’t ruin it with your profane opinions.”
moving towards me, underneath the water
A hand snatches at the smooth skin of her neck, the other enveloping her wrist, gripping harder as the seconds pass. She had always used words to hurt him, or attempt to. Why had he not cut out her larynx when he had the chance? An oversight. Nonetheless, he smiles that grotesque smile, and whispers right back.
“You are mine. My kill. A fixture in my world. Don’t you fucking forget that.”
She’s thankful it doesn’t hurt her, the way his hand squeezes her wrist and the hand that grips her neck. She can only smile and laugh at him and his words the tone changing from cruel and taunting to amused, “I’m yours? Never thought I would be some man’s property. And if I’m not mistaken you have no power here anymore and it’s all thanks to Henry.” Cynthia releases Walter and pries his hand off her wrist brushing his knuckles lightly with her thumb, “You know I’ve met men like you who think owning women is their right. But you know something? They secretly like being on their knees for them”