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108garys · 13 hours

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Daughter

For Erin's 26th birthday I have written a corruption fic aka "what if Du'met just adopted her?"

Warnings/types of content are: blood, asthma/breathing problems, survivors guilt, canon typical violence, detainment, selective mutisim, complicity guilt, sole survivor Erin, highly understandable moral corruption, Du'met is obsessed(platonic), general post canon psychological fallout, nightmares, takes place from canon to present, 3000+ words(putting my tag list at the bottom because tumblr is being weird and only letting me tag a few users at a time)

It all started with an asthma attack and a pack of cigarettes…

Charlie had been inconsiderate, had blamed her and when she by chance learned how precarious their financial situation was she had to wonder… When was he going tell them that they were screwed? Was she going to show up to work one day to learn she had no job?

But he'd made new business cards…He expected to pull through.

When he'd said all those things at dinner Erin had to wonder through her second asthma attack of the day if Charlie meant to pull through with the rest of the team and when she was locked away with HIM, having a third attack and he extended his hand, offering to return breath to her lungs… She took it. Horrified, she felt she would die with burning lungs and a strange man's knife a hair away… Pressed between death and a wall for eternity within seconds of uneasy breathing…

And then he was gone.

And when the rest discussed their exit plan, Charlie didn't… He expected to pull through. But how? How could he be so dismissive? How could he be so certain?

Who could blame her when she was gifted an answer? Of course Charlie was going to make it, he had a plan… It made too much sense. He didn't care that she couldn't breathe, didn't care that their jobs- No! Lives, were on the line… He'd just keep blowing smoke and he'd be famous one day and all it would cost was problems, they had a deal! He was complicit.

She thought she was smarter than this…

When she saw him again, she layed into him, layed out all her stupid circumstantial evidence and Mark agreed to leave him to what he deserves… What she thought he deserved.

Mark never made it to the top of the lighthouse, no signal was ever sent and the others…

She tried to flee until she saw him. Charlie. Dead. Because of her… Because of her naivety, because she thought she knew better. She stood on the cliffs edge. Her perceptions shattered, Charlie at the bottom carved up with the word "complicit" scrawled across his chest in messy strokes of a cruel blade… She had wholeheartedly believed he was… What she had been manipulated into being-

She jolted forward! startled as a strong hand came to rest on her shoulder. She tried to get away but with a long drop before her and a blade at her back. Pressed again to death himself, she stumbled. Rushing over the edge. Closer to Charlie. Closer to-

…the end?

The sudden stop came far sooner than expected. One foot just barely planted on the edge. She stared into Charlie's eyes, frozen in place, breath picking up, cold fear chilling her to the bone and hot pain as cruel fingers dig into her wrist. Over the icy wind and the hammering of her heart, she was again breathing with him. Speechless, like him… Guilty like him. Erin began to cry, overwhelmed by all that had happened. That she was had so easily fallen into his hands. She screamed and cried and tried to get away… She couldn't take this, she begged to be let go, figuratively and literally. She didn't care, not when she thought she would join Charlie, not when Du'met's arm wraps around her middle and not when she was pulled back from the edge. When he let go she fell to her knees. Despondent. They're all dead. If she didn't feel so justified, if she looked at the evidence more closely! Maybe they could have been united… Maybe they'd still be-

Alive. For the first time something lit up in Granthem Du'met's eyes as he brushed a hair out of her face. She couldn't stop crying, he wiped away tears even as more streamed uncontrollably down her face. She stared into his eyes, her face carefully held by that monster. Like she was made of glass. Like it would be that easy…

Her recollection becomes vague after that. Exhaustion catching up to her… She remembers the soft warmth of the sun, feeling weightless as her limbs dangled limply. Breathing… Always breathing, his? Hers? She wasn't certain…

…she found herself in the darkness… Out of time and half recollected memories… She wanders blind, groping for anything to help guide her… Listening… Always listening, for what? Him? The others? Anything to grant her relief from this nightmare. Rain taps rhythmically off slick stones in winding ways, she follows the wall in this void. Listening to the sound of sharp breaths… She feels the weight of something in hand, cool to the touch, metalic… She's calm… Confident as she follows the noise. Is this how he feels? Pursuing his prey, knife in hand, with no fear-

She stops at the sound of a twig snaping under foot. Soaked to the skin she stands in the rain. Listening… Until another small sound catches her attention. She follows, quiet, small and unseen… Creeping in the darkness until she falls apon him. Taking him by surprise, fighting and winning in the drenched darkness. Blood diluted in the rain. Lightning strikes as she looks down to see-

Charlie. Just as he had been. Dead eyes staring up in shock. His mouth stuffed with bloody scripts as his words scream through her. All the things he'd said as he was abandoned to his fate. She pulls the knife from the last letter of the word. Complicit. Crossing that T with trembling hands-

Erin sits bolt upright in bed. Heart pounding as the image of Charlie's broken body fades from her minds eye. She breathes deeply, taking in her surroundings. Heart sinking at the familiar trimmings of Du'met's castle.

The room was larger and more nicely furnished than the one she'd initially checked into. She slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, boots hitting the floorboards, she was wearing the same clothes, thank god. Her inhaler on the bedside table, under it a folded up piece of paper… She steadies herself, unaware of how long she slept but painfully aware of how long it'd been since she ate. Carefully taking the note as if the paper itself could harm her and slowly unfolding it… It took all her strength not to break down as she reads just two words, flanked by suspiciously red hearts in his familiar handwriting.

[<3 WELCOME HOME <3]

He intends to keep her here. She sinks to the floor, knees to her chest, back up against the bed. She was going to die here sooner or later and it'd be entirely on his timetable… She let the note slip from her fingers as she wraps her arms around her legs, burying her face and sobbing, she didn't even care that he was undoubtedly watching… She caught her own reflection in the full length mirror. Pathetic. Her eyes red, hair dishevelled, clothes stained from mud and grass, tears and rain. Tights torn and knees scraped up… There she sits a half drowned rat… The prize in his game of cat and mouse. teary eyes locked on herself in the fetal position… Everyone is dead… She is dead… If she fights, he wins… If she gives up, he wins…

For the 185th time.

She slowly rises to her feet, wiping her face with with her sleeve, coming away with smudged make up. She stands in front of the mirror… Is he behind the glass? Eyes peering through her reflection… Dirty palms flat on the smooth surface, she leans closer, trying to hear him. Imaging him bursting through and taking her life, just like that…She puts her head to the glass, eyes shut as she takes a moment before stepping back to search the room…

One door must be the exit. Secured tightly. Windows barred, a slight breeze moves the translucent white curtains… A clear view of the lighthouse framed as pretty as a picture through immovable metal… He must take joy in this, taunting her with a room with a view of her failed salvation… Her clothes folded neatly in the draws. She hates the thought of him going through her things. Another door leads to a small bathroom. Another note reads.

[NO CAMERAS INSIDE]

She has no choice but to take his word for it, not that it makes a difference at this point. Erin gathers clothes, taking a chair from the room to secure the bathroom door. It brought a sense of safety, if nothing else… Near searing water pours over her aching body, as if it could ever be hot enough to burn away what she allows herself to forget in this moment. Submerged in sickly sweet steam, taking small comfort in her nakedness.

Skin bare… forced to trust, just this little bit, in her most vulnerable state.

As she dressed in fresh clothes she heard the familiar sound of the walls sliding in the hall. To her disbelief the main door of her room was wide open. He wants her to follow whatever path he's layed before her but would it lead to death? Another of his tests? Cautiously she crept into the hallway… It led straight to another room, set up with a table and chairs, appetising food set out for her and she couldn't take it anymore. Throwing caution to the wind she took a seat, desperate to fill her empty stomach, so much so that she hadn't even seen the way he stood at the the far end of the room…

…watching like he always does…

She jumped up as he approached but he points to her chair, the message clear. Sit. So she did as he sat across from her… She avoided eye contact, noticing how blunt her cutlery was. As if she was a damn child. After a moment too long of awkward silence he nudges the plate towards her to encourage her to continue eating. She looks up at him as he stares unblinking. Should she speak? Could she even? Could he? No words were exchanged as she slowly continued her meal, attempting to hide how much she enjoyed it.

When she finished her plate he stood, collecting it and petting her hair before she could react, leaving through one of this many hidden passages. She tries to process what just happened, taking a more thorough look around, pulling every book from the shelves as if she'd be lucky enough to find some secret way out. She kicked the wall he'd left through, letting out her frustration as much as attempting to force her way out, checked the furniture, between cushions, under rugs. She saw the outline of a trap door, covering it back up and avoiding the rug altogether.

After tiring herself out destroying the room she put everything back, who knows how he'd react if he came back to the place turned upside down… Reluctantly, she takes a book and returns to her room.

Her life continued like this. Eat, sleep, shower, read, occasionally she heard others screaming beyond the walls of her small apartment. He sits with her at meals, occasionally he eats too, mostly he just watches her. After a time a new hall opens to a walled garden, too tall and sheer to scale, a new addition to her enclosure for surely he saw her as some sort of pet. Deep down she had expected worse, beyond death and disfigurement… Her fears of being torn to shreds by a strange man… But he wasn't a stranger, not anymore… Her fear receding as he becomes part of her routine.

Her hair was growing out, he had slowly added to the previously empty wardrobe. Her mother would shine with pride to see her dressed in the styling of Victorian era India. Perfectly fit to the aesthetic of her surroundings and yet obvious effort had been taken to tailor it to her… The perfect doll in his playhouse. Autonomy traded for a comfortable life in a gilded cage…

She still sees the others in her nightmares. Guilt gnaws at her. She betrays them everyday day that she lives in his house… She writes her thoughts. He allows her that much. The outside world moves on without her and here she is, locked in her tower, no fair lady in shining armour coming for her… The only one who mattered died within these walls…

She sits as he brushes her hair. Resigning herself to her new normal as he gives her a haircut and she notices to her suprise that she feels no fear, not even as the scissors brush past her ears. She can't bring herself to pretend it's a trick… He intends to keep her here for as long as she lives and he intends for her to live… She lifts her eyes to his reflection and watches him as he focuses on his task. His eyes lacked any malice towards her… Why was he doing this to her? Why her?

She begins to tear up as he catches her gaze. Letting out a low mumble, mask not quite obscuring the expression she's learned to associate with concern… He sets down the scissors, a sign that this trust is mutual. He goes to place his hands on her shoulders but hesitates, letting out a sigh before continuing his work. She blinks away her tears and waits for it to be over… Thinking of her garden… Of the roses that grow there… Of the lonely lighthouse. Unlit… Of this breathing… Familiar as her own…

This is her life now.

One night she was startled awake. Glass raining across the floor as her mirror shatters. She gets out of bed as a frantic man steps through the new opening. His red hair plastered to his skin with sweat, white shirt stained red, sleeve torn and eyes searching for an out. Harsh red light silhouettes him, framed in the terror she buried deep.

He's barely coherent as he takes her hand, in the other he carries a mirror shard. He goes through the door as the lights flicker on. Her heart pounding as fear engulfs her. Her breath short as this stranger pulls her along. Is she afraid of him? This man who is just another innocent victim lured to his death… She knows Du'met must be close… The wall slides in place. Cutting off the entrance to the garden… They enter the other room, the man stopping in the centre, looking around wildly. Before seem to suddenly realize that she was sleeping peacefully during all this, as his friends were slaughtered, as he was hunted. A darkness crosses his face as recognition dawns on him… He sees that even the gown she slept in was authentic… That she was part of the castle. She tries to pull away as his grip tightens on her hand. He raises the shard as he opens his mouth to question, only to turn as Du'met enters. Bloody axe in hand. Erin is frozen as the man holds the shard to her throat, in an attempt to gain leverage in his situation. She begins to hyperventilate, feeling the sharp glass against her skin, nails digging into her flesh, the soft rug under her feet. Du'met notices the beginnings of her asthma attack, slowly placing the axe on the table… Holding his hands up placatingly as he edges along the wall. The man shifts further away… Du'met shifts his hand along the wallpaper, something clicked under hand and suddenly the rug was ripped was pulled from under her-

The man fell through the trap door. Grasping at her. Scratching up her arms. Draging her down before Du'met catches her. Pulling her back from the hole and wrapping her tightly in his embrace before carrying her back down the hall, taking her inhaler from the draw… As her breathing returns to normal something shifts in her understanding… He attends to her cuts and scratches, sweeps up the glass and she knows... Things are going to change.

He leads her through the castle, beckoning her to follow. Down to his control room. So much had changed since she'd been here last. He begins showing her how to change the cameras, how to move the walls and activate the traps. At her confusion he writes:

[YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SAFE UNLESS YOU LEARN]

He wants her to participate? To be complicit? At her shock he adds:

[YOU WILL BE READY, WHEN THE TIME COMES]

She nods, swearing she saw a smile beneath his mask…

And so she begins to learn, first the mechanical functions of the castle and later he shows her other things… Of chemicals and wires, flesh and bone… Desensitising her… And she feels it again, that feeling from a half recollected dream… The confidence that comes with becoming dangerous…

She finds herself in darkness… Much like the day they met… Wandering blind, she feels the familiar weight in her hand, the cool metal calming… She understands now. She stays still as she listens… A mechanical whir as animatronics move around her in the dark, plastic, flesh, it made no difference… She moved deftly through them, steps light as she listens for what she's looking for and then there it was. The creaking of a floorboard. Proof that she wasn't alone. She keeps her breathe low and even as she listens… A sharp inhale at the touch of a mannequin… The rapid breathing of prey… The joy of knowing that she no longer relates.

Closing in they never see her coming, another set of gropping hands among densely packed room. Until she pulls the man to the ground. Not wasting the element of surprise before pinning him beneath her weight. Driving the knife into his chest before he has a to process, to turn the tables on her. Blood pours over her hands as she pulls out the knife. Killing her fear, over and over until the man stops moving and the blade is too slick to hold, metalic taste in her mouth, blood splattered across her face as the lights flicker to life.

She smiles up at Du'met, approaching in his slow methodical way, eyes lit up like a proud parent. He offers a hand and she takes it. She has passed the test… Looking only momentarily apon the redheaded man, kept for this purpose. He turns her face to him, holding it between his hands like long ago, wiping blood instead of tears. Holding her close, her head on his shoulder, an absence of fear in this gruesome scene. Blood soaking through her clothes…

Today would be perfect. Granthem had never been in the position to have children of his own, never cared to. But now he understood the appeal. As He checked over the details. His effort has payed off, he was no longer alone... Months of planing, delicate lines just so… Erin comes down the main staircase, the vision of perfection that he cultivated… Leading her to the dining room. Brightly coloured streamers, decorations in gold on this very special day. Her eyes light up in surprise that he'd done all this for her birthday. He watched with pride as she unwraps a very special gift, a golden mask that reflects her standing in the world… What she means to him. He watches as, she puts it on… Satisfied. his masterpiece is complete… He'd raised his daughter well.

@kassiekole22 @delurkr @blubary @ctrvpani @separatebswithbs

@marigoidz @unhingedlesbear @qusok @kindheartedgummybears

@mybrainrotforreal @tinynightmarewoman @xpugsleyx @aydeenchan

#the devil in me #the dark pictures anthology #the dark pictures the devil in me #erin keenan #Granthem Du'met #supermassive games #oneshot #character birthdays

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108garys · 3 days

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I played(at least the start of) little hope the day it came out and I feel like I would have remembered that because it was my sister's first exposure to this type of game and I was having that silly pedantic "please don't embarrass me in front of the person I had to convince to do this" so I was very much focusing on the details at that time and I do believe the association is drawn because so many let's players draw that connection but if it was specifically mentioned to be newly weds then that specifically would have been brought up in fandom by now, also side note that the crash flashback takes place 3yrs prior in 2000

Beyond that a lot of inconsistencies can come down to Anthony not knowing the difference but I would argue that people mixing up when millennial ended and gen X began isn't that uncommon and especially not even a few years back, hell occasionally you'll see someone born in the 80s referring to the youth as millennials not realising that they are one

And as for cable it's not like it's a hard and fast rule and even so now that I think about it he never said it was something he watched recently did he?

Aging is subjective but all that aside I hope you don't take my just woke up response as crapping on your au because I'd love to see it and the only drawback of the cycles is having to stick to 40ish year intervals. It's so something I'd love to draw a set for and if we go there I'd suggest making it be 2000 as that is a leap year which is one thing all three prominent LH years have in common

Little Hope was originally supposed to be set in the early 2000s

(This totally is not an excuse for me to share a new AU with everyone…I swear.)

When the game first came out, me and @sargeantsarmy remember the cop talking about the crash and saying the people were newlyweds but I actually have no way of backing that up. I just VIVIDLY remember him saying it.

Eric and Rachel got married in 2001, 2 years before House of Ashes takes place. 2001 is also the same year they got in the crash in Little Hope. And if the cop did actually say “newlyweds” it would make sense that it was Eric and Rachel. But I couldn't find anything where he said that.

Also, Anthony does not at ALL look like he's in his late sixties. I mean, yes, it could just be because they didn't have someone who looked closer to that age, or Anthony just aged REALLY well. In 2020 Anthony would be 67 and he definitely does not look it. If it took place in 2001, Anthony would be 48, which I find to be much more believable than him being over 60.

Lastly, there is one piece of dialogue that kind of ties it all together in my opinion. It happens when Andrew and John are making their way to the police station and Andrew talks to John. I can't remember the exact conversation but I do remember that Andrew is being playful and tells John to “get with us millennials.” This made no sense to me…At first, I thought it could've just been Andrew making a joke, but that felt unlikely. However, if it took place in 2001, then both Andrew and Daniel, would’ve been millennials. (I’m ignoring the fact that Taylor would be Gen X and John and Angela would be Boomers…)

While Daniel and Taylor are walking to the bar, Taylor asks about Daniel saying that they could be dead.

This was the conversation they had:

Daniel: “I saw some cable show about how your brain keeps going after you- you know…”

Taylor: “You die?”

Daniel: “Forget about it, what they said didn't really stack up.”

Not a lot of Gen Z watch cable anyway because of social media. There is always the fact that he could have watched dit on something else or actually just watched the cable show, but it just seems a little specific.

But oh my god, I just love the idea of these guys having flip phones. I mean, come on, that would be awesome.

I feel like John would’ve been so afraid of Y2K which is so funny to me. Andrew was only scared because everyone else was scared. He didn't actually think the world was going to end. Angela and Taylor didn't believe in that shit. Daniel didn't think about it hard enough so he was a little scared, but eventually accepted his fate.

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