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foxieflower · 2 years

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So I have some Eddie Gluskin headcanons

The entirety of this post uses the small amounts of information given to us by the devs and rolls with the hints to create a coherent timeline and pile of headcanons that I choose to associate with Eddie. So all in all, this is my personal speculation!

-Eddie was born in 1967, in a pretty rural household. No information is given as to where, nor do I have strong feelings as to where. I could see it being anywhere in the south, Canada, or even in the same state as the asylum, Colorado.

-He often claimed he was in a "Leave it to Beaver" type of household, bringing forth the idea that often times, the main rules for his house were "do good, get rewards. Do bad, get punished"

With the level of disturbance Eddie has and how vile his father was willing to be, it can be argued that Eddie met more with the punishment over the praise almost constantly.

Also speculating from his more misogynistic wording and thoughts on women during the riot, its more than likely he personally witnessed his father abuse his mother on more than one occasion.

-Eddie often gravitated towards his mother's pattern books and took great delight in watching her sew when he had that chance to. She found it endearing but whenever he was caught by his father it wouldn't end well. Leading Eddie to only be able to enjoy himself when his father was gone, if at all.

-I believe the incident with his father and uncle to have taken place when Eddie was at the age of ten, meaning around 1977. The incident was incredibly traumatic and left him with plenty of mental scars that wouldn't even start to heal for years.

Eddie was too young to understand that what happened to him was wrong. Just that it hurt, suggesting to the idea that this was more than likely the start of his growing internalized homophobia.

-Eddie was taken in to child psychiatric care after his father and uncle were incarcerated, where he never got truly fantastic help. It was the 70s and he lived somewhere that getting help for your mind wasn't all that well known, so Eddie was left to stew with his inner turmoil on his own, in a house that didn't let him talk about it. In a town that knew just a little too much.

-by the age of 16, Eddie was able to explore more into sewing and the machines that were used to do it, getting him up to a pretty decent skill level. But among that, being the only man left in the house, he often found himself having to learn many other skills such as wood working, and general handiwork. His mother's now depression often leaving him to pick up the slack and take on a lot of stress.

He also learned how to drive a car, whether or not he did it legally is still up for debate.

-once he hit 17 is when the worse of the incidents went down. His mother had spiraled and Eddie was left to do all the work. Lack of anything more teens his age would be doing, and the previous trauma had begun to build up in him. Until he snapped late at night when he was pestered by two other teens girls, wanting to get to know him. But instead he hurt them so.

-the incident was big and up on the news, local teen mutilated to others in cold blood. He was sent to an asylum at age 18 after a long struggle in the court system.

-Eddie found himself locked in asylum after asylum for long years. Most of his youth and young adult life was spent with him in denial and often constant back tracking until he was sent to a more suited institute for problems such as his at yhe age of 30.

With the new age medicine and care, Eddie finally began to show improvement from his trauma after 20 years of stagnation. Remorse and guilt for what he had down as a teenager showed first, then the guilt for what he felt towards his mother when he was younger.

It took a few years before he started to battle his deep-seated internalized homophobia.

-During his time in this particular asylum, it was not uncommon for Eddiento get plenty of visitors that wanted to talk to him about his incident when he was 17; trying to pull out any scrap of hidden information for documentaries or personal crime videos about the murder.

Eddie never accepted any visitors he did not recognize.

-Mount Massive was reopened in 2009 and Eddie was forcibly transfered there. Murkoff wanted to have plenty of test subjects for their programs and in turn, Eddie made the perfect candidate for Murkoff as without anyone of the outside waiting for him, there was no one to be worried if he ever went missing or was never seen again.

His incredible trauma and psychiatric turmoil also worked well for them and their testing in the Walrider, as the creature stemmed on making any of these problems skyrocket. All forms of mental illness were fresh for the picking.

-Eddie began to regress and revert all the progress he had made while there. It could have been the lack of stimulation in that dilapidated place (Murkoff never working to clean up the abandoned building once they got there, hence the incredible rot and dirt), maybe it was just work of the walrider itself leaking into the minds of anyone they worked with, or perhaps it was the cruelty brought down on him just as any other patient stuck there. Either way. All his work had been destroyed and he began reacting violently and maliciously again.

Specific cruelty such as secual abuse by the doctors, shown plainly by waylon's trip into the box or the noteson Richard Trager.

It's also known that they wanted to elicit reactions out of the patients, so often the documentation (photographs) of the abuse from his childhood would have absolutely begun to destroy his state of mind.

-in 2013, when he was pulled into the device, he had only one moment to try and find help. Unlike all the other interested and tired eyes staring him down like cattle, the computer tech was scheduled only one who seemed distraught and scared, just as he was. So that's why he jumped Waylon.

Now for the fun part:

-Eddie wears gloves because his hands constantly ache, they also are covered in scars and wear and tear, so he doesn't like the look of them

-his height hits around 7 feet tall, making him a monstrous man to face while running in the asylum

-Eddie actually really enjoys creative skills, taking up sewing, crafting, art, woodworking, and even automotive work to keep himself up on the times. He would find it fun to build a motorcycle one day.

-while he sang a pretty outdated song in game, Eddie actually has a deep love for rock and ballads, ranging anywhere from the 80s to the early 2000s.

-eddie's death is actually a fit of clarity. As we could see, most of the game he has no problem lifting, throwing, and dragging Waylon around, a pulley system should have made that easier. But suddenly Waylon was too heavy, I like to think he had a moment of clarity at the end, even with his delusional talking.

-I personally believe Eddie to be entirely homosexual but that's just my take on it all (sips tea)

-I also personally don't believe if had seen a woman during his mania that he would have been smitten with her. The level of mania was obviously far too strong and he people would have just hurt a woman just as he would a man, if anything maybe slightly differently.

-throughout the game, a lot of incidents are pretty clear, including variants pleasing themselves over corpses, there is never any sign that Eddie would have edged towards anything like that. All of his attacks are incredibly nonsexual even with his commentary.

-Eddie loves to cook as well, reminds him of his mother when. He could have fond memories of her.

And remember kids, he's a fictional character and it's more fun to look at things through colorful lenses rather than those just in black and white. The point of Frankenstein is that the scientist was the monster and not the creature! Don't forget about those critical thinking essays you had to do in high-school, that's what these moments are for!

Not to mention, the entire point of horror is to scare and terrify you, so killing is kinda par for the course, best not to think that hard about it!

#i also want his gender #but thats just a me thing #time for the hate to pile in!#eddie gluskin #outlast whistleblower #outlast #tw sa mention

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iblewthewhistle · 2 years

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Rescue Party

Another trial had ended, and Waylon opened his eyes, though he stared up at wooden beams, instead of the usual static.

He moved his hands experimentally, and tilted his head to see that his hands were chained to wooden beams, and he tried to shift up slightly, before a hand pressed onto his chest.

“Darling.”

“Eddie…” He breathed. The Groom’s eyes were glowing red, and Waylon gave a tug on his bindings. “What are you doing?”

“I found you. Sleeping, in the chair.” Eddie’s hand stroked down along his waist, and Waylon let out a breath, as he realised where he was.

“Eddie, can you let me up, love?” He asked, tugging on the chains around his wrists.

“It’s time, love. I’m going to make you my bride, finally. Like it promised.”

Waylon tugged at his chains roughly, and shook his head frantically. “Eddie. Eddie, you need to let me up. Don’t…you’re going to kill me.”

Eddie’s hand stroked up to his throat. “Now, now. Just relax, and we’ll get through this together. I know you can endure. You’ll survive. You always do.”

“No, no, Eddie, fuck, don’t do this!” Eddie ignored his pleas for help, and started to pull Waylon down.

“What. The. Fuck?”

The voice came from somewhere behind Eddie, and the Groom turned. “Leave. This is a sacred thing between us.”

Waylon spotted a flash of yellow, and the familiar swish of a baseball bat. “Oh, no. You can’t expect us to let you mutilate him like this. It’s just so…messy.” He tutted loudly. “Where’s the ambition? The style?”

Ji-Woon, he realised, as he tugged harder at the bindings. Last time, it was flimsy, and broke when Waylon wrestled free. These were much better. Not quite as easily broken.

As Eddie stalked away from him, Waylon almost jumped out of his skin when a hand moved over his mouth. The familiar masks loomed over him, and Frank pointed quickly. “Get that one. We can pry it loose enough. Jules, Suzie, the legs.”

“What the fuck’s he trying to do?”

“Not now. Trickster only has a couple minutes.” Frank let out a groan of effort, and the chain holding his left hand down snapped free. Suzie’s snapped next, followed by Joey’s.

“You…you whore. You’d leave me? And you…” Eddie’s silhouette blocked the doorway, and started to move forwards, advancing on them.

“Go. Kids, GO!” Waylon ordered, and threw himself off the table saw as Eddie pounced forwards, the final chain breaking. He roared in anger, blade singing as it was withdrawn from the sheath.

Frank grabbed Waylon’s hand to pull him towards a piece of broken table, tilted precariously near a vent shaft. “We got in this way!” He pointed as Joey and Suzie led the way out. As Eddie started to climb after them, purple tipped blades shot into the wood near his hands, making the Groom turn and snarl at the Trickster, who blew a kiss to him.

“Darling…come back now, and I will overlook this…disobedience.” Eddie ordered, as he stared up the metallic slits. “Don’t let those vulgar children make your decisions for you.”

Waylon ignored him, and followed the teens as he clambered up to the upper floor, and saw the familiar window. He didn’t think twice as he ran towards the window, and braced himself as he broke through the glass, arms protecting his face.

As he landed hard, Waylon coughed as he tried to suck in enough air, laying there, stunned for a moment, even as hands grabbed at him, trying to pull him up. Staring up at the bloodied sky, the red clouds crowding the moon.

His breath came back to him all at once, and he rolled onto his side, even as the hands pulling him along managed to get him upright. “C’mon, he’s lost it. The Blood Moon’s up, everyone’s going to lose their shit soon.”

“Except Borna…” Came the response, and Waylon let out a wheeze of a laugh. It was true, though. She didn’t seem affected by the Entity’s warped reality.

The four crowded around him, Suzie holding Waylon’s hand tightly as she gripped her makeshift shiv in the other hand, mask hiding her face. He tripped, and fell to his knees, even as the foursome moved to protect him. Waylon’s head tilted back, and he drew in a deep breath, his back still aching from the impact.

“What was he even trying to do?” Joey asked, pulling down the bandana that usually covered his face. Waylon managed to climb back onto his own two feet.

“What he started. To make me his bride. In every way.”

Frank’s head tilted away with a quiet “Jesus.”. Waylon looked around, his arms wrapping to hug himself. He was feeling the chill now. “He’ll come to eventually. I just have to stay out of his way.”

A bloodied form jumped out of the bushes, and the Trickster grinned at them. His face was spattered in gore, but he seemed fine. “The Groom is having a little nap. Let’s get back, shall we?”

Waylon looked back towards the façade of Mount Massive, and his shoulders dropped in resignation. “Yeah. I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

#eddie gluskin #waylon park #weddie if you squint #frank morrison #julie kostenko #suzie lavoie #joey #the legion #ji woon hak #dbd verse drabbles #dbd/outlast #my writing #e-temmu #oc mention

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charsawdeath · 2 years

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@messinwitheddie made a comic/reply to an ask and part of it has Trager making coffee the likes of which has him saying 'does it taste of horse piss or battery acid?' Which its I THINK it's piss (check out their work as I always say since I'm 90% wrong lol)

But a comment from another says how Troy helps him manage around a store after Covid eases up 'helping him navigate the jungle it posed to him'! Leading me to write this!

#written #my work #ao3 #outlast au #outlastwhisleblower #outlast #tragerxgluskin #richard trager #eddie gluskin #troy gluskin #etta gluskin #covid 19 #covid 19 mention

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 10 months

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Au Where I Make Cod Characters Act Like Characters I Simp For From Other Fandoms

Requested: No

Warnings: Blood Drinking, Voyeurism, Ghost has 3 sons (all fully grown and 25+, their names are Payton, Quentin, and Rowan), small bit of ✨spice✨, Dub-Con touching, Reader is called “Wife” and “Woman” in Soap’s part (if you know who Eddie Gluskin is, you know why), torture, tarantula, tarantula crawling on the reader, mentions of gore, blindfolding, abduction

Ghost - Lady Dimitrescu (Re8)

Ghost stares down at you, on your knees before him, shaking in fear while looking entirely out of place on his expensive rugs with your dirty and tattered clothing, covered in filth from the village outside, scratches all over. Looked like you had tumbled with a Lycan or two, he was almost impressed that you had survived such an encounter.

Ghost sighed as he sipped his wine, the rich taste of a maiden’s blood soaking into his tongue, a burst of beautiful flavor on his senses, like fireworks behind his eyes. He looked to you before looking away again, golden eyes narrowed like a snake’s. He was pretty sure you wouldn’t make good wine. But looks could be deceiving, perhaps he should sample you to be sure?

He heard you squeak and his attention snapped back to you, agitation melting away when he saw that one of sons was was currently kissing and sucking along your neck while another was pushing his hand into your pants, the third palming at your chest while nuzzling his face against yours. Surprisingly gentle for his boys, it seemed that they liked you more than the usual manthings.

He sighed again, deciding that maybe he could keep you around, if only to amuse his rowdy boys.

Soap - Eddie Gluskin (Outlast: Whistleblower)

He saw you. He saw you he saw you he saw you. He knows you’re there, hiding from him. You heard him chase you up the stairs, slammed the door in his face, damn near breaking his nose before locking it behind you. He had to break it down, an easy feat but it had given you plenty of time to hide from him. No matter, the room was only so big.

“Come out, Love. You’re hurting my feelings.” He cooed into thin air, hoping to soothe you like you were some sort of wild animal that got trapped in the asylum. “I just want to love you, can’t you see that?”

Something shifted to his right, he jumped towards it, scraping his elbows on the cement only to find it was a kitten darting through the rubble. He clicked his tongue, annoyance beginning to take hold when his patience started to wain.

“Darling, stop running from me! We’re going to miss the ceremony!” He called, standing to his full height again, brushing dirt off of his makeshift vest. “I want to make an honest woman of ya! Marry ya and fill you up with my bairn.”

Another shift, this time inside a locker. He took care not to focus on it as he checked his pocket for the spare lock he kept for situations just like this.

“You’ll look so pretty, swollen and full of me. And our babes will be so beautiful. I hope they look like you.” He said, trying to make it look like he wasn’t walking towards you, his fingers clenched tight on the lock, stroking the smooth metal. “Maybe with my eyes though. Just a little bit like me so everyone knows who ya belong to.”

The lock clicked in place and he felt your panic in the air before you showed it, but then you were banging on the inside of the locker, chanting a soft “no” again and again like that would get you out of this mess. If he looked close enough he was sure he could see your tears.

“There you are, My Lovely Wife.” He purred happily.

König - Asa Emory (The Collector)

König watched as you squirmed, silent as the grace as you sniffled and sobbed, frightened beyond belief. You’d woken up chained to a ceiling by your wrists, stripped naked save for your panties and the blindfold over your eyes. You couldn’t even remember how you’d gotten here. One moment you were in bed, the next? Here.

And the worst part was that something was crawling on you, sticking to your skin no matter how hard you tried to shake it off, making it’s way up your body. Every step it took with it’s furry legs sent you further into a panic attack. It only amused König as he watched one of his beloved tarantulas walk upon your skin. It made for a lovely picture, he’d have to do this again sometime.

He just couldn’t help himself when he saw you, all wide eyed and scared as he chased you through your house, dead family members and pets all over, slipping in their blood and guts with every turn. He didn’t even know you were home when he started laying his traps. Didn’t even know you existed.

But he was glad you were there. From the second he saw you, he wanted to know what you looked like naked, blood running down your body as he touched you, made you enjoy his touch. He got so excited that he ended up slamming your head into the ground a little too hard when he wants to knock you out. He hoped your brain didn’t suffer too much damage, he wanted you to be able to remember this. Remember your fear.

Maybe he’d paint your pretty face after this, just to watch your tears ruin the makeup, smearing it down your face as he fucked you, all pain and no pleasure. Poor little Fehler. His little Bug.

You shouldn’t have come out of your room.

Alejandro - Brahms Heelshire (The Boy)

He could hear you, trying to stifle your sobs as you crawled under barbed wire and through bramble, your sniffles of pain and fear echoing in his ears. It was almost…cute, how you thought you were being quiet. But so sad for you, Little One, he heard you loud and clear.

His hand clasped around the back of your neck, pulling you out of the bushes and into his arms no matter how hard you squirmed and squealed, pushing at him with your cut palms, bits of glass and thorns digging further into your open flesh. He’d need to bandage that for you.

He cooed in your ear, trying to soothe you as his hands patted your face and belly, trying to calm you down as you sobbed. His sweet Nanny, come to watch over him. And he’d watch over you just the same now that he was out of the walls. Once he got you back into the house and tied down onto his bed. Maybe he could calm you down like that, with his tongue between your legs, drawing sweet noises from your lips instead of the fearful ones you were making now.

He lifted his mask up just above his nose, burned nose nudging against yours softly, voice cracking from disuse. “Kiss?” He whispered, watching you shrink in on yourself with frustration. You kissed the doll’s head, but not him?

He sighed, deciding he would have to work on that later as he hauled you over his shoulder, ignoring the pounding on his back as you cried and screamed. No one would hear you. Not ever again. You were his, and nothing would take you away from him.

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iguessigotta · 1 year

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Eddie gluskin with a pregnant darling maybe

you know what's funny about Eddie Gluskin being one of my faves? i am terrified of pregnancy just headcanons for now - this ended up being more an exploration of the inherent horror of this situation than anything shippy, whoops. also kind of an au where Waylon does not survive his encounter with Eddie 18+ just in case CW: injuries, noncon, hostage, pregnancy, suicide mention cannibalism(?) probably more i missed. (no r*** - it is alluded to tho) i mean it's Eddie. the man is a walking billboard for "dead dove do not eat" ok lmao

being Eddie’s darling wife was a living nightmare

you’d been one of the few employees allowed near Eddie, and he’d developed a….thing…for you. well, not you, really, more the idea of you

and when the Mount Massive asylum fell into chaos, you were one of the unlucky people trapped inside

when Eddie found you he was quick to make his image of you your new reality

whether you wanted it or not

you’d initially fought him at every turn. unfortunately, Eddie had a temper, and was prone to snapping with no warning

you’d learned that lesson the hard way - your forearm was still in a makeshift splint, a dull ache where he’d fractured the bone in a fit of anger. or had he broken it? you weren’t sure. all you knew is it hurt like hell and made it nearly impossible for you to fight back

after that incident, you thought keeping your head down and quietly obeying him was the smart choice. that you’d be safe enough to ride out this mess until someone arrived to help

you had to believe that someone was coming. you told yourself you’d be rescued within the week, that there was no way a facility as large as Mount Massive could go down in flames like this without someone noticing

days turned into weeks, weeks into months (how many had it been? 3? 4?)

every night you sat, ankles bound to your chair at the end of some wobbly, bloodstained table, Eddie at the opposite end, a makeshift dinner spread between the two of you

occasionally there would be some sort of meat among the sawdust-flavored rations - Eddie was always vague when you asked him what kind of meat it was

you resisted for the first month, but your resolve broke a week into the second, the hunger pains driving you to tears and forcing you to make a choice

so you ate. and you tried not to think about where he got it from

it was like the two of you playing some sick game of house

Eddie kept a close eye on you when he was around, restraining you when he wasn’t

you’d be tied to a chair. strapped down on your back atop some bloodstained hospital mattress. arms bound behind you, tied to a support beam and forced to sit on the cold concrete floor

all of it was miserable

Eddie said it was for your safety, but you knew better. especially after he’d found you with a knife you’d managed to get your hands on. he’d stopped you from trying to slash your own throat, spewing some bullshit about his darling preferring death over a blissful life as the proud mother of his many, many children

he wasn’t going to let you leave him in any way

some part of you thought about pleading with Eddie to “think of the baby” and untie you - but that only reminded you that you were, in fact, pregnant

and it was starting to show

whatever mental energy you could spare went to trying (and failing) to block that fact out of your mind

you felt like you were trapped in two horror stories simultaneously - one, enduring whatever Eddie decided to do to you on a daily basis, and two, the unwanted life growing inside you against your will

not to mention the mental anguish of what to do after the…birth. would you even survive that? would you want to?

should you try to raise and protect it? or would it be more merciful if you…

it was a horrifying decision to make, one that you flinched away from whenever you found yourself thinking about it

every day you wondered if it would be better to piss him off, have him kill you in a fit of rage. it wouldn't be hard to do, but for some reason the knowledge that you were pregnant stopped you

well, you told yourself, at least you got to skip Eddie’s “operation table”. all the men who came before you weren’t so lucky, if the video on that camera you found was to be believed….

#dead dove do not eat #reader beware #eddie gluskin x reader #yandere eddie gluskin x reader #this is straight up horror reader is having a bad time #in so many ways!#eddie gluskin headcanons #outlast x reader #kinda sorta tempted to write a short fic exploring this absolute nightmare but idk #we'll see idk #no beta we die like men #no kids allowed #sorry if this isn't what you were looking for anon i just had ✨ideas✨ and ✨thoughts✨ in my little head #anyway Eddie Gluskin is horrible and I love him everyone look at my nasty blorbo he's awful <3 #requests #inbox is open and I'm in the mood for horror so #eyes emoji

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cellarspider · 2 months

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20/?? Special delivery

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⛬

We return to a movie that has never been to medical school, Prometheus.

Here it is. The scene that everybody remembers because it gave a fair few people the screaming heebies. This is their version of the chestburster scene–except for the less impactful, literal version of the chestburster scene we’ll get later, I mean. This one, though, this one, they got it right.

Content warnings for gore, nudity, nude gore, exhaustive discussions of the place of chestbursting in franchise history.

But first! I saw a tag with a desire to see the scene with David and the star map. To spare everyone from watching the rest of the movie to get there, here it is!

youtube

[See previous post for lengthy description of the events. I didn’t talk about the music in this before though! It really adds to the sense of wonder in this scene. It reminds me of Daft Punk’s Overture to Tron Legacy (2010), another beautiful and flawed movie. Given the modern use of temporary music in editing that definitely sneaks into what directors demand of scores, there’s a chance this was a direct influence. In terms of the “oh wow, space!” feeling it gives me, I’d also mention the Star Trek TNG opening theme.]

Anyway! On with the horror.

In Alien, the creature’s life cycle was developed by writer Dan O'Bannon, who had two major ideas for its early appearances: sexual, reproductive threat directed at a male character, and Crohn’s disease. O’Bannon had Crohn’s, and he said that inspired the idea of a critter chewing its way out of a man’s guts.

That personal connection has been lost through subsequent media, in part because the series has continued to use the same creature and the same method of killing, minor deviations like in Covenant and tasteless ones like AvP Requiem notwithstanding. The chestburster is a thing that can only ever really work once in a movie. The first time is relatively drawn out, made a setpiece of the movie, and is a horrifying plot twist for anyone who goes in blind. After that? Drawing it out may risk becoming meaningless gore or boring, so most movies have chosen to just have the little bugger pop out within seconds. It’s the sideshow before you get to the main event, despite being the iconic scene of Alien.

Prometheus’ equivalent scene wins back a fair amount of tension by altering the details of the event, if not the general arc of it. It certainly hammers on the reproductive horror aspect, but loses the original subversion of targeting a male character. Which is a shame, because male-targeted reproductive horror is still boundary-pushing. From the world of horror gaming, Outlast: Whistleblower produced some notably panicked reactions from male players when they encountered the emasculating, specifically reproductive threat of Eddie Gluskin. (Content warning for gore, death, forced feminization, misogynistic language, censored nudity.)

Regardless, we have The Chestburster Scene again, but now it’s in the back half of the movie, and happens to the main human protagonist.

I find it very odd that this movie is so self-consciously iterating over things that were first done in Alien. It’s like watching a devout Catholic pray at the Stations of the Cross.

Speaking of crosses

Before we get to the main event, there’s the first actual attempt at character work between David and Shaw in the movie, as we’re in the final act. David confiscates Shaw’s cross as she wakes up from her post-boyfriend-barbeque faint. “It may be contaminated,” he says.

Shaw’s christianity is one of the few character traits in the film that ties into one of the themes, and has its own arc. She’s giving up her cross to the person who killed her partner, a metaphor for a crisis of faith which is so blatant as to barely be a metaphor at all. And, given the general arc of how these things go, means she’s going to get it back at some point. The context for it is going to be confusing and disappointing, frankly.

And it’s especially weird given the other metaphor going on simultaneously: David runs some scans on her, and declares she’s three months pregnant. This is a non-virgin virgin pregnancy. She is Alien Mary. This, then, is the narrative reason why Shaw is infertile–so that she could be the Mary figure, and, more practically for the plot, have foreknowledge that something was wrong.

Except it really didn’t have to be that way to make this work. While christian allegory and the creation of life are themes in this movie, Shaw’s infertility was handled with zero grace. And honestly, the movie could work without it–Shaw and Holloway did not have romantic chemistry, as far as I could tell. Lean into that! Just say they haven’t had sex in ages. This scene would actually flow better, because Shaw explicitly objects that she only had sex with Holloway “ten hours ago. There's no bloody way I'm three months pregnant.”

Which again hammers in how stupid fast this movie has been racing its characters toward their doom, but I’m immediately distracted by David pronouncing “it's not exactly a traditional fetus.”

It certainly isn’t. It’s an alien squid, placed there by the holy spirit of black goo. She’s all set to give birth to Squesus.

I think that’s the only worse way he possibly could’ve said it.

David, frankly, gets some of his worst dialog of the movie here, because he is infected by The Plot for a bit. “It must feel like your God has abandoned you,” he says, after sedating her, “to loose Dr. Holloway after your father died under such similar circumstances.” Which leaves one momentarily with the wild mental image of Dad Shaw sacrificing himself to a flamethrower-welding corpo, but no, David means ebola. David found this out via that dream-watching tech that exists solely to be a mildly unnecessary plot point. Blessedly, this is the last time we see any mention of it.

It’s very strange, how the movie is stuffed full of plot and edited so tightly around the plot that characters barely have room to breathe, yet what it prioritizes as plot-relevant is so scattershot. This failing is also inflicted upon the part of the otherwise very effective Chestburster: The Prequel scene.

Shaw attacks the people who come to take her away to cryo, running in her underwear to the PAULING MED-POD the movie very loudly announced earlier, so that you wouldn’t forget it exists. She tells the PAULING MED-POD that she needs an emergency caesarian. The PLOTPOINT MED-POD informs her that it’s only formatted for male patients.

I’ve seen many people complain this makes no sense. It’s in Vickers’ quarters, why would she have an expensive medical device that she can’t fully use? Others counter that no, it makes sense, because the med-pod was actually installed for Peter Weyland, thus justifying its male specificity. He’s a selfish bastard, he got it for himself, plot hole avoided.

…Except that doesn’t address the more fundamental problem: What does this add to this scene, to balance out the fact that the audience is now distracted by this information? It slows Shaw down a bit as she figures out how to cue up a foreign body extraction from the abdominal cavity, adding to the tension. But you don’t need that to be what draws out the scene. Maybe the PAULING MED-POD has a slow boot-up sequence. Maybe someone follows her there, and she has to fight them off, possibly killing them in her panic. A dead body in the room would solve an actual logical problem with a later scene.

It’s frustrating, because the pacing of this scene is actually excellent, as is its premise. Shaw has to forego anesthesia and make do with self-administered local painkillers, because the prosthetics and CG teams have done a bang-up job making her stomach writhe unpleasantly, making it very clear that whatever’s in there is mobile enough to be a danger to her, even if it’s removed.

The pods instruments are mostly CG, but its combination of unhurried routine and abrupt, industrial roboticism adds to the uncomfortable nature of the scene. Sound design is also important here, with all sound effects well-chosen, and mixed to imply claustrophobic closeness and how trapped Shaw is.

The creature itself? Eh. It’s a slightly phallic squid, and squids were already slightly phallic to begin with. They added on a slightly vaginal mouth, which is also a lateral move--squid mouths already look quite a lot like an unworksafe orifice with a beak tucked away in it. Unless you're looking at Promachoteuthis sulcus, whose inner lip structures fold into patterns that look distressingly like human teeth.

Honestly, this is freakier than the actual prop. Good job, Promachoteuthis sulcus. You're only 25 mm long, and a delightful tiny terror.

...But the fact that Shaw’s stuck in the pod with her flailing squid-child is what actually adds another minute of fear and wince-worthy pain, as the almost comically brutal medical staple gun closes her incision and the pod slowly opens up.

She tries to kill it with what appears to be a soothing mist of decontamination spray. This is the one other stumble of the scene, because it’s just… I mean, look at it.

It’s just been spritzed with Febreze. There’s nothing that leaves you wondering if the thing’s still alive for later, you know it’s still alive.

But overall, a well-done scene. The standout horror scene of the movie, which is light on scares. That sparsity wouldn’t even be worth mentioning if the movie were going for slow tension, but with its strange blend of existential quandaries and unremarkable horror tropes, it takes a very strong, singular scene to feel like the tension has actually paid off. I don’t think it completely balances out the deficits of the rest of the horror, but it very nearly manages it, and does manage to be memorable.

Next time: An entirely underwhelming horror scene, and the movie takes another swing at having themes.

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Citations for alt-text rambles:

https://www.theguardian.com/film/2019/aug/30/memory-the-origins-of-alien-review-francis-bacon-greek-myth-dan-o-bannon-sci-fi-classic-film

https://www.stanwinstonschool.com/blog/aliens-chestburster-mechanism-behind-the-scenes

https://avp.fandom.com/wiki/Seegson

https://stackoverflow.com/questions/3314219/how-do-u-v-coordinates-work

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surgical_staple (medical gore cw)

https://sites.uw.edu/pauling2020/

https://www.paulinamarket.com/

Overflow Ramble #1

A shot of the screen on Chekhov’s g–I mean the PAULING MED-POD, showing the text “EMERGENCY PROCEDURE”, and that it is “AWT VERBAL CMD”. The med-pod turns out to be a Weyland product, because all corporations in Alien movies are either Weyland, Yutani, or Seegson, if you’re particularly unlucky (cite 3).

They made the mistake of putting more actual words on here, and so I’m squinting at the top right corner at “CARDIAC STRESS TEST”, “ELECTROCARDIOGRAPHY” AND “MECH ALGN TCH”, which means the pod appears to think she needs to have her heart checked or her wheels aligned.

But what I find funniest is that there’s coordinate sliders in the center bottom: X/Y/Z and U/W. You know where I recognize that from? 3D modeling. U/V/W are used as an alternate coordinate system in that context (cite 4). Somebody was designing this, thinking “well, we need more buttons. Where can I get more buttons?” and then looked at the horrid mass of options and sliders in their modeling software and realized they had the answer.

Overflow Ramble #2

A close-up of David’s hands, holding a sample container and placing Shaw’s necklace inside. Two details, one of them insane, the other just plain funny: First of all, this is a different set of hands than the one when David was messing with the black goo–there was a small but notable blemish on the fingerprint that wasn’t there, proving once again that hand and arm doubles are one of the odder things you don’t think about in film production.

Second: The container is turned so that the label on it is facing away. This allows you to see the necklace, but it also highlights a completely flat Braille label, reading “PN#ZTZouSthe#Z”, which is obviously very informative.

But the real reason why the label is facing away is because it almost hides the fact that the label says “PRODUCT CODE” on it, which means he may have just put Shaw’s necklace in an empty peanut butter jar.

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#Prometheus 2012 #Prometheus (2012)#finally some well done scenes #though the plot still does not leave them unscathed #Youtube

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heretyc · 5 months

Text

Horror [Trager, Eddie Gluskin, Val]

Horror: A collection of small fics, consisting of Outlast's most iconic antagonists [in my opinion].

The poll I started isn't over, but "canonically" is winning and I love it. Dark shit here we come lol. I will be writing for my beloved Terror-iffic Trio [aka my favourite antagonists from each game]. A party with these 3 would be lit.

Drabble ideas here.

Content Warnings: Uhhh...Outlast Antagonists lol. That is your warning.

Trager: Gore, awful jokes, his bare ass.

Eddie: Gore, murder, injury, mentions of his...lovely little display, sexual assault [minor, just a slight touch, no penetration]. [Please lord don't let him teach an art class.]

Val: Sexual assault [slight penetration w/ fingers], gore, murder, mud, Val's bare ass, mud breasts and mudgina.

I mean it, this is pretty heavy shit. It isn't too graphic, but if SA triggers you...either look away or read with caution. Trager's section is safe. Unless you're afraid of his ass...cause me too, man.

MINORS GTFO. Miners can stay as long as they're not minor miners.

Read with caution, I condone none of this. Fics underneath the cut.

You/MC take the place of the protagonist. So...you are Miles/Waylon/Blake. Yayyyyy....? Or nay? Depends on how you feel. MC is gender neutral, but is referred to with fem pronouns in Eddie's section for obvious reasons. You do not talk in Trager or Eddie's sections as Miles and Waylon were "mute". You speak in Val's section, though. You are described as having breasts in Val's section as both sexes/all genders have breasts. Tiddies for everybody!!

Enjoy.

Drabble idea: "See, this place isn't haunted!"

Sometimes, a saving grace can be your one way ticket to hell. And this had been an excellent example of that. The angelic voice over the dumbwaiter was a dream come true; after running and hiding for so long, it was like you were granted a break.

Only for your face to fall as the scarred face of a man greeted you. The air around him reeked of danger.

This was not the haven you were lead to believe was waiting for you.

"You made the right choice here, buddy," he declared before punching you in the jaw, a pained yell leaving your throat, and he was quick to take advantage of your shocked state to haul you into a wheelchair.

He must have done this a dozen times, as he was quick to lock your wrists into the cuffs attached to the chair. They were tight, and he merely chuckled at seeing your attempts of getting out of them.

He looked fucked up.

He stood in front of you, hands behind his back, and his eyes were scanning you like a wolf scans its prey before it mauls it to bits, "You're not a variant...huh. Well, buddy...you can call me...Trager. Everyone else does, anyway."

As Trager made noises looking you up and down, you looked at his face. Coated by some half-assed attempt at a mask and some strange glasses upon his face, you come to the conclusion that he was some doctor here.

He clicks his tongue and smacks you on the back, "You've got a lot of things to learn here, buddy. I am honoured to be your teacher."

Teach you about what, exactly? You didn't want to know. But he started to push you forward, and you only questioned where your hell would be.

This place was already hell, but...at the hands of some crazed madman, it was different.

Trager hummed to himself, making jokes here and there, and he once grumbled when you didn't laugh at a stupid impression, before he finally made it to an elevator. It was...somewhat cleaner up here, for some reason.

However...

You could feel a breeze upon your skin, and upon hearing the howl of wind and torrential rain, you saw an exit. Pitch black and windy, yet so much more welcoming than in here. You questioned if there would be a tornado warning or something by how violent the wind seemed to be.

The rain out there was intense, torrential, heavy and oh so divine, and Trager only chuckled.

"You want to take a quick walk, bud?" He leaned down next to you, eyes looking into yours like he was an old friend, despite also looking feral. "Run free, like Forrest Gump? Unfortunately, we're running out of time." He clicked his tongue once more, pulling you into the elevator.

This was a cruel joke. Even the Elvis impression - awful impression, mind you - wasn't as bad as this.

Standing beside you, Trager pressed a simple button on the control pad before clasping his hands together behind his back. After a moment of movement, he looked back toward you, his voice a tone that suggested jest, "Did you know they call elevators a "shaft" in other places of the world?" He chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

Looking at him, you realized his skin looked...awful. Like he was a draugr from that video game you used to play.

His scalp was scarred, and after spending an hour in this place, you realize you're lucky your scalp was untouched.

Wires upon wires were wrapped along his arm, and upon closer inspection, you were horrified to notice that they weren't wires, they were tubes.

Of his own blood.

How did he not feel that?

A man like him probably enjoys that, to be honest.

His nails were quite long as well, albeit you couldn't blame him...hygiene in a place like this was laughable. He probably had to exert his inner wildcat to defend himself in this shit hole.

You nearly sobbed when the elevator came to its destination, and he took hold of the handles once more.

It smelled of death and lost hope up here.

Choruses of screams reached your ears and you flinched. He seemed to notice, as he violently shushed the poor bastards trying to break free of their confines, "Sh. Shshshsh...you weren't putting your tongue to good use anyway!"

Tongue...??

The man shrieking had a bloodied mouth, and he soon quieted after choking on, what you assume to be, his own blood. Trager only sighed, muttering to himself, "Really, I just needed something to lick my stamps."

This...was a cruel joke. Taking someone's tongue for stamps?? You were deep in thought, only for Trager to notice and grin evilly, "You should see what I do with the balls."

...Dear god.

"Yeah, this weird...cannibalistic guy downstairs begs for them...the guy knows what he wants, I gotta give him that. He reminds me of somebody...eh, buddy?"

He poked you in the shoulder as he pushed, and it appears he was referring to you.

"I saw your camcorder. You're some sort of journalist, here to...what, expose one of the biggest experiments in history?" He laughed at the notion, shaking his head. "I admire the bravery, really. Braving through disturbed masses...I have to admit, I'm impressed."

You only gulped.

"People love to say this place is...haunted." Trager noted, pushing you into a bathroom of some sort. Bloodied, smelled of decay and looked like a paradise for bugs and bacteria.

What had scared you the most was the array of torture devices he had laid out on a tray. This man was deranged, one way or another.

He continued his one-sided conversation, focusing on the aforementioned tray as he walked over to it, "I mean, who wouldn't? People love to paint asylums as haunted. They hear a ghastly noise or a terrified scream and immediately tell the papers that a house of human suffering is haunted."

Trager's hand hovered over each instrument of torture, trying to pick which one, but he hadn't stopped talking.

"And I am more than sure that's your entire...reason for coming here. Trying to prove it was haunted. But guess what, buddy?"

He finally picked up a blade, long and serrated, and he pressed it against a finger of yours, the edges sharp against your thin flesh. He leaned in close, his dry lips forming into a smile, "This place isn't haunted."

He moved away, the blade removed from your finger, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he placed it back down onto the tray.

"No, no. It's worse."

He finally picks up a gigantic pair of scissors, much like something you'd see picking away at a shrub, and he was more than eager to shut them and open them, metallic hisses invading your senses, much like the feeling of doom.

You will die here.

"This place is an example of human cruelty, my friend," he announced, voice loud and cheerful as if he wasn't about to maim you, and he placed the blades around some of your fingers. He cared not for your horrified shrieks and begs, he only leaned in once more and whispered,

"And you will be nothing but an example of what happened here."

Slice.

...

"Oh, come on, buddy...it's not like you needed your middle finger anyway. Now open up...I have some stamps to lick."

Drabble idea: "Oh my god, are you okay?!"

"Darling, please! You act as if I've done something rancid! What have I done to you to make you so afraid of me?!"

The bloodied behemoth on your tail was quick and hurried as he chased after you, his feet slamming against the rotting floorboards. You almost couldn't hear the music that played alongside the horrific display he handmade. The smell was awful, but the sight of it was enough to make you vomit.

You would not be the victim to the Groom. Not now. Not ever.

You would not have your pelvis slit, or your chest stuffed like you were a sex doll [ironically, that's all you would be to him], and you would not let him confess his undying love for you. It was fake and corrupt like this entire asylum.

Despite the smell of mildew and death, adrenaline filled your blood and you could tolerate the disgusting scents as you breathed in, your legs not yet faltering.

You've heard what he's done. The man who so giddily chased you rambled about it as you snuck around, and you were not pleased.

This was the only way out. Sometimes you have to take risks...right?

This wasn't worth it, though.

And sometimes, luck runs out. Like right now, as you are stuck in a dead end.

There was only an elevator. And it was not on your current floor.

Shit.

You could jump and risk a broken leg...or...

The emergency ladder. Broken and rusted, but it's tetanus over death.

You could explain all of this to the news with lockjaw.

"Wait, what are you doing?! Don't, don't-!"

You had leaped, gripping onto the ladder as your bottom half slammed against it. With a hiss you tried to pull yourself up, only for the ladder to break underneath you.

The top had snapped, and you tried to grab onto what remained on the wall, only to fall, your heart stopping.

Of all things to die from, it was a rusted ladder.

Oh well.

As your body slammed onto the top of the elevator, a sharp pang began to blossom from your ankle, and you look to see shards of glass sticking out of your flesh. Now coated in blood, you cried out and ripped the shards out, piece by piece. Blood pooled around your foot as you cradled it.

"Oh my god, are you okay?!"

The behemoth above looked down at you with a horrified expression, his hands out and wanting to hold you.

"I hate to see you suffering without me! Why would you do something like that to yourself?!"

His voice was full of panic and concern, and for a moment it seemed wholesome, until the panicked silence became one of anger. There was...tension.

"You would...rather die...than be with me...?"

His tone had shifted so quickly. He was unpredictable, and that's what had made him so...scary. In general, he had looked like he crawled from a 1940s horror series. Sweeney Todd had come to mind, actually...

"You're just another whore, aren't you?" He growled out, only to sigh, like this was a normal occurrence. "It's quite alright, darling. A good man can turn a whore into a house wife...and I have faith in us. Let me just..."

The elevator roared to life, and you panicked even more, now. Your poor heart would likely kill you before he had the chance to. But as you rose, he merely hummed to himself, waiting for the elevator to rise to his floor.

You had no chance at moving or escaping, as when you reached the proper floor, he was quick to grab you before you became sandwiched between the top of the elevator and the ceiling.

He dwarfed you. Instantly. He carried you bridal style, an eerie smile on his face, "Come, now. I must make sure you look perfect for our wedding."

You had no chance, now.

He clicked his tongue, footsteps hard against the rotting boards, and his voice was quieter as he spoke, "And I need to wrap up your foot...you are a silly one, darling."

It didn't feel silly. It felt like your ankle and foot were on fire, stinging like mad.

You had accepted your death already, but if there was also one thing you could accept, it's that he wasn't actually half bad.

Minus the...anger fits and the "whore" bit, he would have been wonderful. Looking up at him, you see a man soiled by corruption.

His eyes would have been a beautiful, shiny blue if not for the pools of hemorrhage. They had looked...empty. Dead. But whenever he looked at you, they shone like his soul had been revived.

Is this what he had wanted? Love?

Everyone in this hell hole had been deprived of it.

It was sad. Really fucking sad.

But you had read about what Eddie had done, and seen it too. And he was past the point of no return. He had done too much to be redeemed.

Dread made itself a home in your stomach as you were laid upon something cold and wet, and you were strapped in. Arms and legs spread, and your clothes were ripped off.

You were now nude, and being touched by the Groom himself.

His hands were gentle as he caressed a calf, "You have such soft skin...you will look absolutely beautiful," he cooed, hand gliding itself upwards toward your knee, then your thigh, and then...

You only flinched when you felt his hand begin to caress your genitals, as gentle as could be, as if he wasn't violating you. T'was the touch of a lover.

But he was no lover, no.

His fingertips merely grazed along your private flesh, rubbing it as if he had wanted to stimulate you, and you wanted to scream.

Eddie sighed dreamily, like he was a married man and his life would be filled with nothing but happiness, and he, luckily, let his hand glide up to your navel. "You look divine already, but when I'm finished with you? Oh, darling..."

He removed his hand, thankfully, but he was quick to turn on the saw, and all you could feel was cold air from its rapid movements and doom.

He gripped the sides of the table you were on, and he was smiling like this wasn't totally fucked up, "I know this will be hard..."

You felt the table move, slowly but surely, and you began to wriggle, but he continued, "You will have to deal with this...and then the conception, which I promise, will be wonderful," he winked as the saw came closer, "Then the pregnancy...and oh, I can just imagine the birthing. You will look so beautiful, darling...like a goddess. Mothers are goddesses in their own right."

And all you could feel was the sting of the saw, and your soul fading from your body.

...

"You're just like the rest. Filthy whore."

You're lucky you weren't alive to see your mangled body, tossed with the rest.

Ready to rot.

Drabble idea: "I want to go home..."

Val, in a sense, had been an angel to you.

They did not have a halo, made of purity and gold, or have pristine, white wings to wrap you and hold you close, no. They did not bear robes of white or play a golden harp or sing a divine chorus.

But they had wanted you all to themselves. And they would not let Knoth's guard dog, or his sickly bastards he called "friends", ruin you before they had a chance to.

Because unlike Knoth, or Marta, or Laird or Nick or whoever the fuck, Val would put you back together.

They are a loving mother, dedicated to spreading love.

It had been painted in blood on your way to the mines, 'LOVE SET US FREE'. Bottles encasing candles, bodies strewn up like Christmas decorations...

What were they trying to do, exactly? Make their cause look homey? Elegant? Acceptable?

You had felt oddly welcomed. Every single enemy in your way was slain, journals and notes left in your path to urge you to come to them.

"Come to me," the red ink beckoned you on the dirtied paper, "and I will show you my love."

They had been so kind as to leave batteries and bandages. Before you had taken the small, makeshift raft, a final note had been placed in one of the small shacks, the bed made and smelling of firewood,

"I am waiting for you."

You did not want this. But you needed to find a way out.

The mines were not welcoming. You were not alone. And you had been chased into the underground, where you are now; held down by Heretics as they muttered, "mother, burn..."

Like the fallen angel ready to relieve the sinners of their pain, their martyrdom, Val had approached, coated in mud and looking like the demon of the mountains.

In their hand was a torch, raging with fire, and it made their white eyes so much more intense.

They had hummed eagerly, the hum evolving into a laugh as the torch was placed down and the Heretics were shooed away. You were too afraid to move or notice their cold, dirtied hands leaving your flesh.

Their eyes were wide, pupils tiny, and they smiled as they strutted to you, "We are creatures of appetite..."

They moaned, feeling up their body and their fake breasts, like they were a porn star and giving you a show.

"I want to feel your hunger," their voice became quiet, something only you could hear, and they leaned close, your eyes staring frantically into theirs, searching for any fragment of humanity.

There was none. And you felt saddened, knowing that the Val in those journals was not this Val.

This was something different.

"I want to know your desires...and show you what true pleasure feels like," they rasped, pushing you down and straddling your hips, grinding against your clothed stomach. Your fear had aroused them.

"I want to go home..." you whispered, tears rushing from your eyes, and they only laughed, leaning close to your face and whispering, "This is your home, my love," a muddy hand came up to caress your cheek and wipe the tears away, "and I...will be doting."

You had no chance to respond or even acknowledge the powder blown into your senses, or the tongue forcing your mouth open, and immediately, they sought dominance over your own muscle, wrestling with it. It had ventured to each nook and cranny of your mouth, like they wanted to taste everything about you, and they eventually pulled away with a moan, saliva connecting you two.

They licked their lips, humming in delight as their hands rushed to push up your shirt and reveal your chest. "Your body...is delightful," they breathed out, squeezing your breasts and rubbing your nipples with precision.

That powder did something to you. You had hated the feeling of their hands, but now you were overheating; desperate and quiet moans leaving your throat and making the cultist above you grin.

"I don't..." You couldn't even finish your sentence, as they pinched a nipple and made you shriek. It made them chuckle, and their hands moved south, ripping your zipper and breaking it. They got off for a second to completely rip your pants and undergarments off, and their naked thighs wrapped around your bare hips.

"Did you enjoy my gifts?" They questioned, hands now massaging your thighs, "You needed those batteries so badly...to document the lies of Sullivan, didn't you?" They purred, their hands tight and knowing just where to touch to get you to cry out in pleasure.

"That's why you came here. Fell from the sky, wrapped in flame..." they bit their lip, feeling aroused at the notion, "To record his bullshit."

You had even forgot about your camera, and you questioned where it was, until Val snorted, "It's gone, my love," their hands moved upwards to your genitals, "taken away...by my children. You won't need it anymore."

There was no pain when you felt their finger enter you. It was more pleasurable than anything you had ever felt, and it made you moan the loudest, and Val had revelled in this.

With precision their fingers located your pleasure spot, and sped up.

Your pleasure was their pleasure.

"God doesn't love you...not like I do."

And in time...you would know it to be true.

#outlast #outlast 2 #outlast 2 val #eddie gluskin #outlast eddie gluskin #outlast fanfiction #eddie gluskin x reader #outlast x reader #richard trager #trager #val #outlast val #val x reader #this was a doozy lmfao #enjoy!!!#richard trager x reader #trager x reader

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dynafire · 7 months

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did I mention that I like outlast

Eddie Gluskin apologists and Eddie/Waylon shippers DNI /srs

#outlast #Chris Walker #eddie gluskin #waylon park #miles upshur #camerashipping #outlast whistleblower #father martin #father martin outlast

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blurrymango · 7 months

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No one will ever have what they* had.

*Eddie Gluskin and Waylon Park from Outlast Whistleblower.

THEY COULD HAVE BEEN BEAUTIFUL TOGETHER.

#mango man speaks #gross and ugly sobbing from me. screams of the damned in my head.#i cant even think about weddings without thinking about them.#like legitimately.#i see weddings mentioned anywhere online and im like dude thats waylon park and eddie gluskin from outlast whistleblower.#thats their thing thats their thing.#they own weddings. its their thing.#romance died when eddie died btw and i stand by that.

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samalong1 · 9 months

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Eddie gluskin x blind m!reader

Tw reader is male but eddie refers to them in female terms,feminization,slight abelism from eddie,Eddie's surgery mentioned,slight delusions from eddie

Catagory:fluff

Takes place outside of Mt massive

Despite being independent eddie woudnt care

Your his bride blind or not he's supposed to care for you

Though being blind will make him assume your in need of constant assistance

He's constantly worried about you hurting yourself with all the sharp glass and rubble on the floor

While he thinks his wife should be cleaning this is clearly a special case so he'll be cleaning wearing a pink flower apron

Of course when you inevitably try and convince him how independent you are he'd only give you all the cleaning now that all the rubble is cleaned up and the dishes

When he was trying to replace your family jewls and another patient fought him he lies and says he won and proudly defended your honor even though you probally know he lost but your jewels are still intact

He secretly likes your cane he finds it soothing hearing it glide over the floors and occasionally hit the walls. It reminds him that he has a "wife" wondering around the house maybe doing her wifely duties or getting a snack it just reminds him his dream has come true

He watches you like a hawk when you cook he knows you can cook that you have methods for when chopping and little gadgets to know when the water is boiling

He still worries about your saftey (even though he nearly chopped of your dick)

He loves sewing you dresses and while saddened that you can't see them but he loves describing it to you in a poetic way comparing red to roses blues to waterfalls and White to the purity of his bride

If you have a seeing eye dog he'll respect them when their working though at the store of you send them to grab something he'll get jeolous and grab it himself

Let him help you even if you don't need it

But when their not working he treats them like the family dog him petting their head while reading the newspaper

He doesn't let them on the furniture unless their working

Even though you can apply your makeup and do your hair he insists that he does it

It's a exuse to do your makeup and hair he'd find one even if you weren't blind or could still see since blindness is a spectrum

After startling you by accident he starts to walk heavier to alert you when he's hear

Still trying for a baby through anal but you can just lie and say somehow your blindness or what caused it made it extremely rare to conceive he's already shitty on anatomy and will just assume it's a woman thing

Just find a baby doll to feed delusion or steal a baby

Don't say it's impossible to have kids cause then you get surgery by him

Whenever pavement is cracked and uneven making it hard to navigate him being a chivalrous king will just scoop you up bridal style and carry you

He just wants to carry you bridal style he could easily help but he loves carrying you like his bride

Occasionally swaps your dresses with one's that resemble a 50's housewife you know but don't want to argue with him

#eddie gluskin #eddie gluskin x reader #outlast x reader #yandere eddie gluskin #eddie gluskin x y/n

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blueberrypancakesworld · 1 year

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~ My Flesh ~ Thomas Hewitt ~

warning : +18, minors don't interact, smut, chainsaw play, knife play, blood drinking, cannibalism, praise kink, angst, hurt, tiny comfort, mutulating a corpse, death

Summary : Another night past, she continued to look around for her car keys. But next to her husbands she finds herself in the hands of the cannibal.

next chapter, masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seemed like an eternity before she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The warmth of the wax and the room through the water came to her.

Nevertheless, the goosebumps did not leave her body when she stepped out with the towel. Looking around, however, she found that Vincent had disappeared.

She was alone again. Sighing, she looked for her dress but it seemed to have been either taken or broken by the killer. Looking around, she was surprised to find a new dress on the bed where she had been lying before.

Not completely new, the individual wax and blood stains let her know that it had already been worn. ,,The dress of a dead woman" came over her lips as she put it on and dared to go out into the corridors. Still looking for the key and her freedom.

The question of where exactly her car keys might be crossed her mind. But in the end she only had the option to keep looking. Still on the middle floor, she only had the option of going down or up. They're upstairs, she thought, thinking of the Ghostface killers.

They hadn't touched her last time and otherwise they seemed to be less of a threat than, say, Pennywise. But the clown seemed to be the biggest mystery under Freddy. Maybe the supernatural really existed? But they hadn't really helped her when Brahms came. She shook her head above, she wouldn't get far.

Except to feel Michael's uncomfortable presence on the back of her neck all the time. Something she wanted to avoid. So she decided to go down another floor. Maybe the keys are at Eddie's she thought as she tried to look somewhat normal again.

She smoothed out her dress, tidied her hair and tried not to tremble at the slightest movement in the shadows. Eddie Gluskin seemed to have been down here the longest. He was her first husband of eleven. He was the one who wanted her from the beginning. He had to have her keys.

Her footsteps stop in the hallway as she walks down the corridor towards the lift. Neither Bo nor Vincent nor Peenywise had shown up to bother her. ,,It's almost too quiet," she muttered and stood in the lift, about to close the grate when she flinched and stifled a scream.

Michael emerged from the shadows, his head slightly tilted as he watched her. In the silence she heard his deep breaths, the two black holes in his mask watching her and his knife still in his hand. Is that what he gave me? she asked herself, wondering anyway where all her wedding presents were.

They would turn up again. ,,I'm going downstairs, Michael," she told him, pointing to the lift display before it started moving and she disappeared from his sight. He frightened her.

His silent way of moving around just like Jason. The two of them scared her the most in that respect. Not to mention that she was still dependent on the protection of her husbands.

Although the patients in her mental state knew that they had to avoid the eleven, this was not the case with her. She shuddered when she thought of the scene in the kitchen. It's only a matter of time, she thought, biting her lip as she thought of the clown.

He seemed to feed off her fear, the first time she met him was enough for her. For a moment she seemed to feel his teeth in her skin again.

A painful memory. Shaking her head slightly, she heard the lift stop and she arrived at the lowest floor. ,,Searching," she murmured and began to look around in the still somewhat lit parts of the lowest floor. Easier said than done.

The lights seemed to get dimmer by the minute. With every step through the corridors, into rooms and corners, it seemed to get darker. She found her way to the lift and to Eddie and Brahms' room again, but she didn't knock.

Her hand hovered for a moment in front of the wood. But when she thought of how Eddie might react, she said. He would probably just take me on the bed again she thought and felt uncomfortable before she hurriedly went on.

Through more corridors and hallways before she stopped at a junction when something caught her eye. She let her gaze wander for a moment before something like joy appeared on her face. ,,My room," she said delightedly and opened the door to the room where she had woken up chained.

After touching the light switch, the single naked bulb came on and illuminated the bed. Before she discovered an old table that actually contained her gifts. Going there immediately, she looked for the knife but did not find it. ,,Are you looking for something?" she suddenly heard a voice behind her and saw Freddy grinning at her, leaning against the wall.

She saw him watching her, didn't know how long he had been standing there until his blades were dragging across the wall, leaving furrows. ,,My knife...where is it Freddy?" she asked, trying not to let her discomfort show. But the demon only smirked before the light flickered and it suddenly went dark.

Instantly the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her heart beat faster and she was about to rush towards the door when it suddenly disappeared. ,,Let me go, I'm awake," she urged him and pressed herself against the wall to have something against her back.

She was awake, she felt the cold, her heartbeat, she felt everything. She could not sleep. She heard his laughter, the sounds rubbing against each other. Suddenly she felt a strand of her hair being tugged and twisted.

She flinched and wanted to flee, but fear had taken hold of her. ,,Clever girl," he purred before the light in the room went on and she was alone again. She felt her legs threaten to give way for a moment and she pressed herself even harder against the wall. Her fingers went to her hair.

The strand had been cut off. He had touched her indirectly. It was only a matter of time before he would strike. Dragging herself along the wall, she came back to the door.

She opened it and was about to run into the corridor when she bumped into someone. But instead of something warm and human, it was cold steel she ran into. ,,Thomas" she said quietly, the name of Leatherface who was holding his chainsaw in front of her and she had run straight into it.

She swallowed, knowing that all he had to do was turn it on. One switch on and her body would be cut horribly in half. She slowly moved back into the room, wanting to get away from him. Please not now she thought and had already put her hand on the door when he simply took her by the wrist and pulled her out again.

She hissed at his grip which was painful, not bone breaking but it would leave a mark. ,,Please don't, not so hard, I'm coming with you" she tried to persuade him but he continued to pull her silently behind him towards the lift. Thomas Hewitt had hardly noticed him, even less than the others.

But his sudden appearance frightened her. Especially because she knew he was a cannibal. Just let it be the night, she prayed inwardly as she got into the lift with Thomas and they rode up in silence. She tried to put as much distance between them as possible. But because of his height and width, in addition to the chainsaw, this was hardly possible.

Only when the lift opened and they got out did they have some space. She knew where he was pulling her. She knew they were going towards his room. They had almost reached the door when they suddenly heard a noise.

At first she thought it was one of the other murderers, but when she saw that it was just another patient, she calmed down...no, she even felt safe. A strange thought but she still blamed it on her encounter with Freddy. She heard Thomas grumble something that she could best translate as ,,Wait". She should have run away, screamed, run and just get out of here.

But she didn't. She knew that if she ran now, she would trust the older one to kill her. Instead she stood still, trying to calm herself somehow as she watched the horror before her eyes. Thomas walked towards the patient, the sound of his chainsaw before he suddenly lunged and thrust it through the patient.

Screams mixed with the noise of engines and blood and organs splattered to the floor. But what brought the nausea to her body was when he dragged the lifeless body behind him to come back to her before he opened the door and they both went inside. ,,Oh...this is ehm...nice" she tried to pretend to be interested as she almost threw up. The whole room was strewn with bones, corpses and other human and animal remains.

Coupled with a hint of old sixties and seventies furniture and wallpaper that could be found, and a risque butcher's cleaver hanging from the ceiling. It was the very hoe on which Thomas suddenly found the body hanging. It was disgusting.

It took all her strength not to vomit on the floor. Instead, she stopped, still slightly unsure, and looked around. Before she heard the grumble of Thomas symbolising her to come closer. She nodded slightly and followed his instructions before coming to him.

Suddenly, however, his risky hand was on her shoulder and he began to tug at her dress. ,,No wait!" she shouted, signaling him to wait. To her surprise, he did, although for a moment he seemed slightly confused by her reaction.

She took a shaky breath in and out as she took the dress and pulled it off over her head. Carefully she laid the dress on a table and made a makeshift attempt to cover her breasts and intimate areas. This is worse than Vincent's she thought and lowered her gaze to the floor.

She feared that any second he would grab her and put her out of bed. She flinched as she felt him place her in front of the dead body. She looked up slightly and saw him move away from her and pull on an iron chain that lifted the body slightly over her. ,,Shall-Shall I help you?" she tried, hoping it would just be over.

Everywhere she looked, death seemed to be looking at her. She suppressed a sound of fear as she saw him grab a large butcher's knife and come towards her. ,,Don't!" she screamed as she saw him lunge and she closed her eyes. But he wasn't aiming at her, instead she felt the patient's warm blood run down and cover her naked body only seconds later.

Thomas had cut the dead man's throat and the blood that was still in his body flowed down onto her naked body. It was warm, sticky and it seemed to take her over completely.

The more she breathed in, trying to swallow her panic, the more metal she smelled. It was intoxicating and dizzying. But she didn't have time to wipe the blood off, instead Thomas grabbed her and threw her onto the bed.

She could feel the decompression sticking to her, the blood not leaving her body and the bed turning red. ,,Thomas, I-" she was about to try to reason with him when she saw not only his intense arousal but also that he had the chainsaw in his hand. She fell silent and pressed herself against the wall behind her, trying not to scream.

He came closer, the glint of hunger and excitement in his eyes. The blood excites him, she realised, feeling not only her aversion but also how the blood and the temeparut fall and rise had hardened her nipples slightly. She felt the blood all too clearly on her.

Before she suddenly felt the cold sting of the ketensaw on her arm. ,,Please...don't" she pleaded and looked at Thomas. She saw lust behind the mask. She felt him move the steel from her arm to her torso up to her breasts. The small metal hacks of the chainsaw scraped across her sensitive nipples with just the right amount of pressure.

He knew what he was doing and something told her that this was apparently not the first time he had done this. She felt the metal clench lightly against her, stronger for a moment, weaker for a moment.

How her body reacted unwillingly before he let go of her breasts and she gave an unwelcome sigh. She heard his breathing grow heavier, more excited almost needy. She winced as she suddenly felt the cold metal go up her leg.

With every centimetre he moved closer to her centre, her heart beat faster and faster. ,,You...Thomas...you can do better than that, can't you?" she asked, hoping that she would get him to back off. But she saw that he seemed to ignore her, and the metal moved further up her leg.

On her heated body it felt pleasant in spite of everything. As if she were putting ice on the hot spots. But she couldn't escape, she was already too pressed against the wall. She was tense, aware of the danger of the machine, but still. But she felt her heart beating faster, and not just out of fear.

She had truly been down here too long. ,,Please Thomas...I know you are good-show me how good" she stammered as the first spikes of her sex were only a hand's width away and she was afraid of what he would do when he had achieved what he wanted. But he stopped. Suddenly he stopped and looked from the machine to her.

She saw something change in his gaze, he seemed to be enjoying it. He wants praise, she said in a flash. She leaned forward slightly and felt the blood move slightly before her fingers ran over the cold machine. ,,Show me how good you can be," she encouraged him, flinching as he lifted the chain sails and moved them slightly in front of her.

Before she gave him an encouraging nod and also weighed the body. It was only moments before the machine started and she whimpered slightly.

Before she saw him use the machine to further abuse and dismember the already destroyed body. She heard the bones crack, the blood splash around and the intestines hit the floor.

Before the machine was placed on the table by Thoams, the engine still running and she felt small new splashes of blood covering her. Before she suddenly saw Thomas coming towards her and taking off his apron. The old shirt revealed much of his body.

Although he was taller and broader, she could clearly see the strength that resided in him. She saw the distinct bulge that appeared on his trousers. This won't...fit she thought and winced as he joined her on the bed.

She felt the bed creak and the old mattress sink slightly. She wanted to try to get off the bed but felt him practically overpower her with his body alone.

She had no chance to escape. Instead she felt his fingers go to her hair, the once soft strands sticky with blood, but Thomas didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, it seemed to please him.

The more blood on her body seemed to excite him even more. I am his food she thought in shock and feared the worst. But Thomas seemed to have his own plans. While he used his one hand to explore her body.

Her breasts in a semblance of massage, feeling the softness under his fingers, he used his other hand to lay her down on the bed as gently as he could.

She resisted, but she doubted he had even used his strength to push her down. The bed squeaked as he repositioned himself but did not let go of her.

She could still feel his big hand on her breasts, he could probably have doubled them over. She shuddered as she realised how big he actually was. She felt his arousal on her thigh as he leaned forward slightly.

Let go of her breasts and ran his hands along her belly and side. She felt him smear the blood, spreading it even further over her body. She saw how he seemed to grin as his leather mask slightly consumed. Before he suddenly leaned down and licked the blood from her breasts.

She gasped in surprise as he almost aggressively licked the blood from her body, even biting her lightly and seeming to try to get her blood.

Her hands alternated from the bloody stuff to his arms, she felt his muscles under his shirt, felt him wanting more of her. She tried to concentrate on him, the arousal flowing slowly through their bodies.

For a moment this seemed to work before she suddenly felt something cold and sharp against her stomach and suddenly opened her eyes. ,,Thomas!" she cried out, half pleading, half frightened, as the cannibal pressed the point lightly into her belly.

She hissed and tried to push him away, afraid he would disembowel her. But he did not move. Instead he pushed the tip further in and she cried out briefly as he broke through the skin and got what he wanted. Her blood.

Instantly she felt his warm tongue running over her wound, taking as much of his blood as he could get. She felt his arousal twitch, how he wanted more and his other hand went up her leg. She tried to close her legs but his one hand was enough to open them again.

She let out a sigh mixed with painful sounds through the wound. As Thomas' fingers rubbed over the small tender spot. He had heard her reaction, looked at her and repeated his movement. He felt her legs trying to close again, twitching slightly as he increased the pace.

How she laid her head on the pillow and the words of praise reached his ears. Before she heard the rattle of fabric and the unbuckling of a belt. Tension was in her body as she saw him place himself, the blood that was on his hands now on her centre.

It was the mixture of her blood and the patient's that he used to bring his cock to full arousal. She swallowed again and would have liked to jump off the bed. But Thomas didn't seem to care. For him, his own pleasure seemed to be more important.

Without preparing her or warning her, he simply penetrated her. His almost guttural grunt was interrupted by her groan. As her fingers clawed into his arm, clinging to him, she tried to get used to him somehow. But Thomas was taller and wider than Eddie and Brahms.

It was as if he felt her completely, it took her breath away for a moment. ,,Th-Thomas" she tried to sign to him somehow that he should wait.

Tried to get him to listen to her but he did not. Instead he thrust into her, seeming to lose himself in her, finally getting the physical intimacy while chasing his fantasy. She gasped as she felt his hand grasp her hip painfully. Just the right pressure to make her shudder.

Just the right pressure to make her do his bidding. She felt him pulling her against him as she tried to get away from him. But he didn't let her, he just pulled her back, kept using her before she heard him pull the knife back over her body with his other hand.

Her breathing was irregular, whimpering moans came from her lips. She groaned as the older man drew the blade across her skin just enough to let a small gush of blood flow again. Before he wiped the blood from her again with his tongue, leaving marks.

All while he not only thrust into her faster but also released his hand from the knife and gripped her neck. She felt him squeeze, increasing the pressure on her neck. As she swallowed, automatically trying to get more air into her body.

While her eyes went from open to closed and her hands went from his arms to his hand. Slipping from the force of his thrusts and arousal. While a suppressed moan slipped from her lips.

She felt her body tingle as she desperately tried to stave off the inevitable. ,,Tho-Thomas...the-the others" she said and looked at him pleadingly. Hoping he would understand what she meant. Before he let go of her at the last moment.

She inhaled heavily again but barely had time to calm down. Then he simply lifted one of her legs over his shoulder as if she were just one of his victims.

A lifeless object he used. Only to thrust into her even faster. The throaty pleasure-filled sounds filled the room. She felt herself coming closer to her own end, felt the tingling in her abdomen and Thomas becoming almost animalistic.

His grip on her waist tightened, she felt him bend down again to lick away the blood he had received. ,,Please," she pleaded, panting, her head shifting back and forth on the pillow in a desperate attempt to block out the sensible noises echoing in the room.

It was only a few moments before she felt him become more erratic, chasing his own orgasm. Suddenly, as she felt her own orgasm approaching, she felt an unspeakable pain in her leg. A guttural moan mixed with a scream and Thomas's grunt made them both come.

It took another moment for the cannibal to decide to pull out of her. She saw him looking at her with half-open eyes. His hands, smeared with blood and dirt, pulled out an old cloth from somewhere. Before the pain came again and she hissed. She looked down and saw that he had bitten into her thigh.

Saw his bite deep enough to make it bleed. Before he tried to stop the bleeding slightly with the cloth. ,,Thank you," she murmured, nodding slightly at him, still overwhelmed by pain and arousal, before pressing the cloth to the wound. Before he gave her one last look and rose from the bed to put his apron back on and grab a knife.

Before he began to cut up the corpse as if nothing had happened. The smell of blood permeated the room as she tried to ignore the sounds of the butcher. Instead she prayed that she could walk.

To be the immobile one down here. I might as well throw myself into his chainsaw, she thought, closing her tired eyes for a moment.

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