#Walrider miles

[zeorigir]

miles da miles walrider upshur

[nix0nada]

When you look in the mirror.

Sometimes I think about what Miles is up to now that he’s considered dead in the outlast universe

[bellsartworks]

Happy birthday to my favorite game!

[elemental-alien]

"You have become the Host!"

hello outlast fandom, have a miles

[foxieflower]

The Walrider's New Best Friend

[joz-yyh]

Love Host - Ch. 7 (Preview)

SUMMARY: A prequel to my fic, “Good Boy.” Takes place during the final scene of the game and the journey home afterwards. Miles becomes the host and the Walrider intends to consummate their bond. No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: T (for preview only!! / depictions of violence / swearing)

PAIRING: Walmiles (WalriderxMiles)

WORD COUNT: 1,152

A/N: The fugitive reporter is reunited with his jeep, but things are never that easy, not for Miles Upshur.

This chapter is dedicated to @is-gw! :3

Thanks again for all your support! I know you've been waiting a long time, but I am finally getting around to writing this again. I hope you like it so far!

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The reporter runs his hand along the jeep's frame, taking note of the various scratches and dents dealt to the paint that he can't remember being there before. So much had changed in just a few short days and neither of them, man or machine were quite the same as they once were.

“Hey, remember me,” Miles says to the oversized keepsake, getting a little choked up by the reunion, “I can’t believe you're still in one piece.”

His bandaged fingers slide over the red door frame, following the dark seam of interlocking parts down to tug at the door handle. 

It opens. 

The seats been moved, a noticeably tighter fit as he wedges his legs inside, adjusting the position so it's more comfortable to his height. 

His flashy press pass is right where he left it, dangling faithfully from his rear-view mirror. 

The reporter smiles sadly, turning the flimsy ID in his hand, his grip growing heavy, enough to strain the integrity of the four corners of plastic.

Miles lets the reality of this moment sink in, folds himself over the steering wheel in an awkward hug, a horrific memory of the past coming back to haunt him in full color.

Miles wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for O'niel – just another civilian reporter assigned to the same mission he was, caught in the crossfire, blown away by the bombs of war. 

It could have just as easily been Miles who died that day, years ago during his tour in Afghanistan, but it wasn't and now he's stuck reliving the event, watching the rookie from behind the viewfinder of his camera, there and then suddenly not, taken by an explosive wave of dirt and smoke, no body to be found, nothing left of him except for his rundown jeep.

He'd seen so many lost souls, innocent lives sacrificed to feed the campaign of wealthy politicians but this young man's violent passing hit different, stayed coiled around his heart like barbed wire.

He hopes O'niel is proud of the work he's done, that he's watching from somewhere, that he knows how close Miles has come to nailing the vile corporation that started it all.

There's a tug at the back of his mind, a treatrous dark sea, not quite his subconscious (he's learned to tell the difference), but the Walrider – it wants his attention, warning him of a threat.

“What is it," Miles asks dazedly, looking up from his crossed arms, wiping at the melancholy sting in his eyes.

His symbiotic partner supplies him with images, black combat boots and swat gear flickering across his eyes as a tactical team makes a perimeter around the woods.

The hairs in the back of his neck are standing on end, his nerves firing like pistons, his stomach dropping.

"Oh God," Miles whispers, nanites skirting his vision, "they’re here, aren’t they."

The reporter is losing it, becoming a frantic, irrational mess as he rambles to himself, “I knew they would be, I knew, and I still couldn’t stay away. What … what does that mean,” the host laments, feeling his emotions breakdown, going through all the stages of grief one by one.

“I am sorry for bringing you out here," Miles tells the machine, convinced that this was their last stand, that he had to make some poor amends for all his mistakes, "I am sorry for everything.” 

The Walrider manifests itself, its bony phalanges gripping it's host's tear-stained cheeks, forcing the man to look it straight in the eyes.

Miles stares back, searching the dark abyss, the Walrider trying so hard to convey an emotion that it’s not equipped to express.

“How many,” the host asks, his tone a terrified reservation.

The nanties bristle, an urgency, it's optical lenses oscillating.

“Oh God," Miles breathes, the dread building, his voice doused in ice water, "too many.”

“What should we do,” the host asks, feeling so fucking helpless and pathetic for having to rely on his demonic counterpart for guidance.

Sighing painfully, he holds the machine in a similar embrace, stroking along the creature’s cheek, joining their heads together. For whatever reason, it helps him to think, clearing away the panic.

They needed a plan, some means of escape. The jeep was a possible exit strategy, but that's if it can make it out of the ravine and he's not even sure if it will turn on.

A word flashes before the human's mind, the Walrider offering an idea. 

“REVENGE.”

Miles understands it all too well, his own intimate connection to the exact moment in time when he lost his life and became the undead monster he is now. 

His blue eyes harden, bordering on arrogance as an influx of strength hits him.

“Alright," the rebel declares, seeking the entity's affirmation, "you ready for this?" 

The Walrider trills in his head, the nanites bursting from his veins with heady anticipation.

It's good enough for Miles, his lips pulled back into a toothy grin.

"Lets show ‘em who they’re fucking with," Miles growls, eyes drowing in a sea of onyx, his irises burning rings of gold.

{End Preview}

[barbatusart]

I DON'T WANT TO BE A CRUMBLING, CRUMBLING, CRUMBLING CASTLE

[ghosterain]

Meme I made on Twitter, it suit them so well

[kappa-bappa]

*slowly fades back into the void*

[zeorigir]

more mr upshur on walrider miles,,, (ft my oc, Andrea)

just wanna draw them bc walrider themed hehe

[nix0nada]

Question.

That moment when you realize it’s up to yourself if you want new content of your favorite character

[bellsartworks]

I’m doing an outlast art challenge I saw on tumblr. Challenge by @prettyboychainsaw

30 numb

[crabicalfart]

CUTELAST!!!

[jkmc]

look what I can do

[sid-sn]

[thataudio]

After his death he lived?