#outlast 2

[cosmic-giraffe]

[blaires-wife]

It's the first of July, this June was rough for me but I'm finally back

[heretyc]

"What Do You Like About Me?" [Outlast Drabbles]

FIRST COLLECTION OF FICS IN 2026?!?!??!!? To think I turn 24 next month, holy shit. ANYWAY...I had this cute idea. Enjoy.

Also why the fuck did a guy slapping a woman show up when I looked up 'hand gif'. HELLO????? VIOLENCE, ON MY OUTLAST GORE PORN SIBLING INCEST NECK VAGINA BLOG?

Tried doing most of the characters for now. My fingies ache. Gahhhh.

Miles —

Hum. A scan of your face. A bite of his lip before he grinned, poking your nose. "Nose. It's cute to boop."

"I'm not a dog, Miles."

He snickered, "No, but you are my bitch in bed."

He didn't question why he slept in the dog house that night.

Waylon —

He looked away from his laptop to look at you for a second, before his eyes locked back on to the screen. "Eyes. Windows to the soul, and all."

And yet he subjects his eyes to blue light at 11 PM. Priorities, Waylon.

Trager —

His one, uncoated eye looked at you with that famous expression. 'You know what I'm doing to say', his eyes seem to express.

You sighed. "My fingers-"

"Your fingers, yeah."

You ignored his scissors clicking like teeth at a buffet.

Chris —

Chris was a man of so little words. He preferred actions. And those actions involved pressing his nails into your scalp, in an attempt to soothe whenever you had a bad day.

Good piggy, he wanted to murmur. But scratches were enough.

Eddie —

He screamed it from the mountaintops, he whispered it into your ears, he traced the word on your thigh whenever you laid.

His favourite part? Your legs. And he wanted everybody, especially you, to know.

Jeremy —

"Lips. Definitely." Naughty, his smirk was as he sipped at scotch from behind his desk. Business at Mount Massive was booming, but he was never too busy. Not for you. "They wrap nicely around-"

And that's when Richard had to walk in. Bitch.

Frank —

...He's a cannibal, what do you think? Unfortunately he's more interested in the head stuck in the microwave, but...y'know. Not too late to do the same thing.

Walrider —

All of you. Because, like...he possesses people. So...yeah. He likes all of you. Good for him, we love a man who loves every inch of his partner's body.

...Preferably not when possessing you, cause that shit hurts, but...y'know.

Knoth —

He's a man of the LORD, you think he has UNSAVOURY DESIRES? That is abSURD.

Your legs. He...he likes your legs. Because they can march you straight to church. [He's not fooling anybody at this point, is he??]

Marta —

She's quiet. Like a field before a thunderstorm, like a moment before prayer uttered by a preacher.

But she looks at you, white eyed and calm, and simply utters, "Your eyes."

And she goes back to reading the bible in her hands.

Val —

Coated in mud and sin and uttering curses like a priest utters words of the lord, Val stood before you with a raised brow and a knowing grin, their hair mussed. After-orgy apparel is what you usually called it.

"Now, sweetheart," they began, their voice sly, "You know the answer to that. I know you do."

You still feel the throbbing in your groin. You knew better than to let them include their crucifix in sex, fuck...

Laird & Nick —

Legs. And fingers. And everything else. Because you're not diseased like they are. Must be nice.

Easterman —

"Your eyes."

He exhaled smoke from between his lips, brows raised. "Full of innocence, my little How High. Just how I like you."

He knew just what to say.

Clyde Perry —

With eyes like his, it was surprising to hear that he-

"Like your eyes," he muttered around a cigarette, fresh blood from a newly acquired prime asset coating every gloved digit, "Glossy, shiny...full of love for me, obviously."

Was he wrong?

Leland Coyle —

"You've got a lot of fuckin' nerve asking me somethin' as gushy as that," he scoffed, but he answered anyway, "your voice. I like it when you scream."

Typical Coyle.

Franco Barbi —

His eyes went from your eyes...to your chest.

Your eyes...

...to your chest.

He didn't need to say anything. And nor did you. Not even when he shoved you onto the couch and ripped your shirt off. The doctors watching from the windows certainly had things to say, though.

Not...not good things.

Gooseberry —

"I can't seem to choose, deary!" Her voice was always so chipper, so pleasant. Music to your ears. "I love a lot of things about you."

"I like it when you shuts the fuck up, Phyllis!" Futterman chortled from his position on her hand, "It makes my whole fucking week!"

Asshole.

Arora and Otto —

"Your cheeks." "Your jewelry."

Both said at the same time. But Otto raised a brow. "Jewelry, my dear Arora? We bought it for them."

"I know," she hummed, "I have damn good taste."

Liliya —

"Soul. It's pure."

And that's all she rasped out before she froze in place, waiting for another reagent to walk by. She was a woman of very little words, but you could tell she means them.

Danny —

"Yer height, sugar," the tall man snickered, bending at the knee in order to look at you properly. "So short. Could put ya in my pocket if I wanted to."

Tempting.

Pitcher —

For once, the usually loud man was silent; no screaming, no yelling, no muttering curses at the reagents. For now, he was holding your hand with a comfortable tightness, leading you out and away from the gasoline-infested areas of the train station.

He liked your hands. A lot.

Night Hunter —

He sucked in air through his teeth as he thought, his eyes hidden by the goggles stuck to his face. "I like..." his accented voice began, clicking his tongue as he thought some more.

"...your legs, glowworm. They take you far, and fast."

He wasn't himself, surely. He didn't even make a sexual reference-!

"And they wrap around me nice."

Annnd there it was.

Pusher —

"Everything, baby!" He laughed behind his mask before pulling you close, "Now open up, I got a bigggg surprise for you!"

It was drugs. It's always drugs.

[creekbed-burial]

Moments I paused to take in how gorgeous Outlast 2 is

[idk-tbh-idk]

Liliya with Blake—

[neloxy]

[alieninvasionmaybe]

My 50’s housewife Outlast OC! Her name is Constance Murphy and her husband signed her up for “Charity Outreach” due to her mental health struggles. She is super protective of her other reagents and hostile to any Markoff staff. Enjoy my bonus doodles!

[ronnierad365]

a sketch of walrider miles ig.