#judgcmcnt

[judgcmcnt]

Hi I swear I'm still here, but the last couple of months have been awful. I just need to collect the pieces before I can do things.

[daily-cheryl]

He's totally not staring at Cheryl because he wants her food, nope. Tooootally not that.

“My loaf.”

[jestrot]

<growl> - growl in receiver's ear ((for Frank))

Jesus, something about hearing the metallic growl leaving the Executioner was something else. A hand holding onto the metal frame of their head. "Wanting to show me a good time big guy?" Frank asks with a chuckle now. "Come on, I want you to mess me up."

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

hc + ❓ for a headcanon of the receiver's choice

[Wesker's everyday clothes were very muted but expensive. Finely tailored shirts and other articles that would be costly, but without being obviously costly. He liked to be refined but understated, and hated wearing anything with an obvious logo on it.]

[virtucvs]

judgcmcnt

....Food?

       JOEY GIVES A nod, of course! He’ll open the book up and show the Big Guy all the recipes inside. 

[fogandsnow]

The young woman froze in her tracks, staring ahead of her in fear. There it was – the Red God’s altar. She had walked past it before, but never actually understood what it truly was – not until she joined with Miriam and her “family”.

She would have preferred to be on her own but strength was in numbers, especially here in Silent Hill. Her chances of survival would increase dramatically if she accepted being part of a survivor group. The reason why she had been so hesitant to leave behind her solitary lifestyle was because the vast majority of the few people still living in this cursed town were religious nutcases...and the group she was now part of was no exception. It didn’t take long for Emily to realize that the Red God they were worshiping was none other than the very being she feared the most: Pyramid Head. It seems life had played a very cruel joke on her. The terrifying monster whose existence haunted her even in her dreams was now someone she was expected to serve and worship alongside her new “family”.

They were certainly far better than the bloodthirsty madmen from the Order, but not by much. She didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to partake in any of their twisted rituals, prayers and ceremonies, but having to fight endlessly for her survival was exhausting and maddening. She had been trying to find a way out of Silent Hill for weeks on end, but all the doors and gates were either locked or sealed and the few roads that would take her out of town were cut off. And even if she did manage to leave, all that awaited her were miles and miles of dangerous, unpredictable wilderness with nothing but creepy woods on all sides. A potentially deadly experience for anyone who wasn’t prepared for such a journey. She was trapped here for the rest of her life, just like any other unfortunate soul in Silent Hill.

Emily continued to sit there, unmoving with her eyes fixed on the altar. The stains of both fresh and old blood on it only served to intensify her dread. It was her turn to bring offerings to Him. Everyone in the group was tasked to come to the altar bearing offering once a week, but since she was still new, her turn had been postponed for over two months. But eventually, her time came and seeing Miriam approach her with the red basket made Emily’s blood freeze in fear. She knew exactly what that meant and the worst of all – she couldn’t refuse. If she did, she would either be cast out or, worse, she would become part of the offering. So the young woman accepted the task and listened carefully to the directions and instructions given to her.

With trembling arms, she approached the altar and began unloading the basket’s contents: meat, apples, mint tea and candles to be lit in the Red God’s honor. The sooner she would be done with it, the sooner she could return to the sanctuary and decrease the risk of bumping into Him. She prayed and prayed again that He wouldn’t decide to come here while she was still present.

[cursed-legacy]

📖

anon or not, send me   ‘ 📖 ‘   and i will explain a situation / setting i’ve wanted to place my muse into, but haven’t had the chance to, yet. | CLOSED

a truly somber and empty kazan

very quickly does his sadness lead into anger

but what about the time where his anger doesnt flare up to keep him in the fight? what if he's a hair away from being cast into the void?

no one would remember him in the outside world save for being a ghost story

he'll be dust in the wind, just another soul lost to the fog

[feralverndari]

@judgcmcnt has started following you!

Killers come in all shapes and sizes, West realizes this. Some, he’s got no problems with, but the ones that seem untouchable, truly immortal somehow? Those are the ones that the mechanic has issues with. All his life, he’s had to fight to survive, and he hasn’t stopped fighting even now, so to put him against a creature that’s considered unbeatable and will always hunt you down until you’re either dead or it becomes bored of you? It wasn’t something that particularly fond of.

It terrified him. And with terror came anger at the same time.

He could try to run, try to take the coward’s way out and attempt to flee for another day, but...much to his demise, West wasn’t that way. If there was one thing he was, it was stubborn for both good or ill. He stared at the creature in front of him with its hulking knife, a weapon that seemed impossible to even wield let alone used to cut him down, yet this eldritch horror did so with frightening ease. From what he could tell, everyone else had already escaped, and there was no way for him to truly escape this monster’s grasp. The terrified, angry human was going to die and there was nothing to stop it.

Again.

So, he simply faced his death in the--metaphorical eye--defiantly, spitting a bit of blood to the side, barely able to move as his wounds stung deep and crimson stained through his clothes and spilled onto the floor below him and with a raspy breath, he tried to center himself. To accept his death once again, even if he wouldn’t remember it once it was all said and done.

“Alright...ya done caught me fair ‘n square, bastard, I’ll admit it...now besides my death...wha’ th’ hell is it tha’ you want from me??” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

But he could still try. What did he have left to lose right now? Even dying...there were always worse fates than death, but each trial had an end. Still...it wasn’t a comforting thought, the mechanic still very much afraid but doing his best to try and swallow it back: to at least meet his demise with some dignity left...