Jasper Hale imagine requested by anon. “hi! could you do a jasper fic where the cullens all leave for a hunting trip to lo-key give jaz and y/n some alone time in the house? like theyve been dating for months and jasper and y/n make love for the first time and shes super nervous because shes a virgin and its super tender and sweet? thanks!” Hope you like it!
Your parents were under the assumption that you and your boyfriend’s twin sister were spending the weekend in her adopted parents’ home while the Cullen boys went camping on Mt. Rainier; as innocent a gathering as could be expected. In their eyes, there was absolutely nothing to be worried about; their daughter was spending time with a respectable family, under the watchful eye of the doctor’s lovely wife Esme, surrounded by her charming boyfriend’s female sibling… only the camping trip wasn’t as exclusive as you had let on, and you would instead be spending time at the Cullen residence with Jasper. He had come to escort you to his home, dressed to the nines in the best hiking gear money could buy, shaking your father’s hand with a polite smile before leading you into the passenger seat of the silver Volvo he had borrowed from his brother. It may have been suggested that his brother’s car was a safer option than his motorcycle, and with the understanding that you preferred your father didn’t collapse into cardiac arrest, Jasper had agreed to sacrifice his preferred mode of transportation for the unassuming vehicle you now found yourself within. Jasper slid effortlessly into the driver’s seat, bidding your parents goodnight before settling in beside you, sealing the normalcy of the world away with the hushed suction of a closing door. It wasn’t long before the delectable scent of him flooded your airspace, perfuming your world with hints of lavender and sandalwood, intoxicating you with the sheer beauty of his presence. His eyes remained glued on the rear-view mirror as he backed out of your driveway, exhibiting proper driving technique while in your parents’ line of sight, proceeding down your street for at least a minute before his hand found yours between the seats, the chill of his skin soothing the worry from your brow. The entirety of his family was as far north as Canada on a hunting trip. You and Jasper would be completely alone.
“Hey, relax, darlin’. It’s just me,” he whispered, his butterscotch eyes finding yours within the dimly-lit cabin of the Volvo, his features illuminated by the neon of the dashboard instruments. He had no need to look at the road; his peripheral vision was just as attentive as his eyes were on you, and his reflexes quicker than anything that could possibly present as an obstacle in front of your vehicle. His thumb traced circles against the backside of your hand, massaging the stress from your body, if not your mind. Sure, it was just him. He couldn’t have stated the sole reason behind the surges of anxiety that flooded your body any simpler than that; it was just him, and just you, alone together for an entire weekend. It was a major advance in your relationship, and he was a poster child for collected calm, as if tonight were no different than any other. You ducked your head, squeezing his hand lightly, marveling momentarily at the give of his alabaster skin… so hard, yet so soft. You wondered, briefly, how the rest of him might feel… You straightened your thoughts, tidying the corners of your mind until every last straying image was safely swept into order, thanking your lucky stars that Jasper wasn’t the family’s mind reader. Jasper didn’t ask what had you so wrought with tension; you had a good idea he knew, but was far too polite to voice his suspicions, a perfect Southern gentleman to the very end. Instead, his mind flooded through the stagnant air and into yours, warming your limbs in waves as a feather-light cloak of ease hushed over your body, his eyes fighting to coax yours out of hiding before he settled for merely gazing in your direction. “I love you,” he promised, his whisper low and aflame with the heat of his truth, the tenor of his voice ringing with honesty as his eyes burnt twin holes in your temple. You lifted your gaze to his, losing yourself briefly in the honey of his stare, his smile eliciting your own as he turned the steering wheel, his grip so certain, so sure, his eyes only leaving yours for a moment. When the hypnosis of his eyes was broken, you redirected your eyes to stare aimlessly out the window, watching the cedars pass in blurred patches of emerald darkened and diluted by the ink of the night.
“I’m okay, Jasper. You don’t have to… calm me down,” you chuckled, your laugh almost foreign to your own ears, speaking to the reflection of his eyes mirrored in the glare the utilities projected onto the glass of the window. “I’m good, really. Thank you, though, for offering. You’re a sweetheart.” Jasper’s brow lifted in disbelief, hearing the confident lie roll from between your lips on the back of a wave of compromising emotion, your unease as plain to him as your voice was clear. You rolled your eyes, smirking as you tightened your hold on his hand. “Alright, I’m a little upset that Rose won’t be joining us. You’ve caught me.” Jasper let loose a quiet laugh, his lips thin as he fought the urge to bend to your humour, his mind still obviously distracted by your physical discomfort. Even if he were unable to taste the tone of your emotions, he would have heard the stammer of your heart as it frantically sought an escape route through the spaces between your ribs. He shook his head a fraction, as if to align his thoughts, his palm spreading over your knee, gently smoothing over your denim with a more human breed of comfort, leaving your reasoning to stand alone, no prodding or inquiries involved. You watched the forest flash by, your heart thrumming in your chest like the wings of a hummingbird, your pulse skyrocketing as Jasper pulled into the extended driveway leading to the Cullen household. He sighed to hear so obvious a sign of distress, his lips pressed into a fine line when you turned to address the sound, his eyes concerned as he analyzed the winding path through the thick of the forest. You were silent when the car pulled up before the intimidating house, your hands clasped in your lap as Jasper removed the keys from the ignition, quieting the engine and enhancing the leaden stillness that surrounded the two of you. He exhaled deeply, turning in his seat until he was facing you straight-on, his hands reaching for yours, the smooth marble of his skin sparking against you, adrenaline coursing through your veins like venom.
“Y/n, would you please let me help you?” he asked, his voice pleading and sincere, you met his eye, smiling halfheartedly, your cheeks burning with the flow of blood that rushed to warm your face. His brow knotted with helpless worry, his eyes bright with the extent of his agitation to see you so restless. “At least tell me why you’re so nervous?” he pleaded, his palm covering your own, sending thrills roiling through to settle in the pit of your stomach, your body warm beneath his comparably frigid touch. You shrugged, searching for words polite enough, innocent enough, harmless enough that you wouldn’t end up offending or causing any confusion. Jasper’s hand extending toward your face, cradling your cheek in the silken palm of his hand, his thumb working over your cheekbone, brushing just beneath your eye. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You can tell me anything, darlin’, it’s part of the package. Trust me, there’s nothing you could say that would drive me away, nothing you could say that’d… wound me. I’m virtually indestructible, remember?” you giggled then, surprised at the tremor in your voice, your eyes watering just slightly, your cheeks burning brighter as you became aware of the sensation. Jasper’s hand remained on your cheek, his fingers coaxing an answer from your lips, or perhaps your mind, his eyes anxiously awaiting your reply. You felt the air rush from your lungs, your brain resolving to spill your fear at his feet before your body could revert to your more primal instincts and reject your intention.
“I’m just…” you paused briefly, your heart seizing in your chest, prompting Jasper to respond with a much-needed surge of calm. You cleared your throat then, your eyes finding his in the dark. “Thanks. I’m just… I know what this is about.” Your words hung in the air, speaking volumes while saying so little. Jasper’s jaw clenched visibly, catching the intention behind your blanketed statement, his hand moving downward to rest against your neck, your pulse racing beneath his palm, his skin tantalizing yours. He didn’t make any move to speak, or to leave the vehicle, awaiting further explanation despite his clear understanding. “I mean, I guess it’s just… we’re alone, Jasper. Truly alone, and I…” your voice trailed off, your eyes melting into his, the tides of borrowed calm lapping at your feet as Jasper lent you the ease to continue. “I’ve never done this before.” Realization flickered behind his eyes for the briefest moment before quickly, professionally, he returned to his previous standing, his features open and curious. “I’m just nervous, is all.” Jasper grinned sympathetically, his eyes dancing on yours.
“Terrified, it feels like.” You lowered your gaze, embarrassed, only to find Jasper’s index finger at your chin, lifting you back to meet his eyes, his features soft and gentle. “We’re not going to do anything you aren’t prepared to do, you have my word as a gentleman. It’s enough for me just to spend time with you, no time constraints, no prying eyes, no interruptions. I’m in this for you, Y/n, and nothing else. I love you. If you want to go slow, we’ll go slow. We can crawl forward, for all I care, so long as we’re together. I am perfectly content with whatever you choose to do.” You smiled, thankful, leaning toward him to close the space between you, your lips pressing against his. He returned the tender affection you offered to him, his lips molding to fit yours perfectly, his hand winding through your hair, holding you as delicately as if you were made of glass, separating only when the car’s headlights clicked off from lack of movement. “You ready? To head inside, I mean?” You giggled, nodding your confirmation to his double-edged inquiry, your heart leaping in your chest when he disappeared from his seat, your door opening swiftly at your side. Within a single breath, he had lifted you from the seat, holding you in his arms like a newlywed bride, kicking the door closed before walking as easily as if he were unburdened towards your house, abandoning your overnight bag in the backseat. You laughed aloud at his pageantry, his eyes rolling at your reaction. “It seemed appropriate, Miss, to walk you over the threshold. I’m attempting romance; don’t go injuring my ego.” He continued forward, smirking when you mumbled pointedly about his claim of indestructibility. He strode over the polished floorboards, pressing a kiss to your hairline when you clung to his shoulders after he set you on the couch. You wrapped your arms around his neck, refusing to release your grip as he moved to stand, your heart racing as he playfully fell on top of you, bent by your iron strength. His lips pressed against your throat, his honey hair sweeping against your cheek as he wrestled with your human weakness, contorting until you were cradled in his arms, his eyes glowing warmly behind the thick fringe of his eyelashes. He paused, then, noticing for the first time the subtle shift in your emotions. “What…?” he began, your lips pressing to the corner of his mouth.
“I’m…” you began, your voice feeble and weak, your fingers threading through the golden strands of his hair, his eyelids fluttering at your touch, searching yours for answers you had yet to properly advocate. You returned his open stare, your hands trembling as they cupped his cheeks, your thumbs stammering over his cheekbones. “Jasper…” His breathing was shallower, quicker, his lips parting as he prepared to speak.
“I thought you were…” you inhaled the scent of him, so much stronger now that you were all but pressed against each other, watching him come to his conclusions. “You said you were nervous? You’re still nervous, I can… I can feel it, but…” his voice trailed off, his head shaking once between your hands. “Y/n,” he breathed, your name an oath on his lips. “Do you want this?” Your cheeks burned under his stare, your heart thrumming with a strength you hadn’t imagined possible, your head nodding when you found your voice had failed you. Jasper swallowed then, his voice producing a soft, sensuous tone, blossoming into the silence instead of interrupting it. “You’re sure?” You nodded once more, pressing your lips to his as you finally spoke your reply.
“Yes.” He moved against you as you had never known him to move, his tongue darting over your lip with a slow, sugared patience, his arms wrapping securely beneath you before he moved to stand, hoisting you once more into his arms, his lips never parting from yours. His body was marble-hard beneath your hands as he ghosted up the stairway, moving with inhuman speed to the sanctity of his bedroom. He laid you atop his sheets, resting your head against his pillows, moving to hover over you in the same movement, his weight suspended above you. He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertip lingering on your jaw, his eyes lavishing you as if you were the most precious stone, or perhaps an idol forgotten by all but him. He waited for your approval, his eyes watching yours, a delightfully warm sense of calm licking at the soles of your feet when your nerves tightened in your stomach. “There’s no need. I’m okay.” He arched his brow, his influence retracting as you stroked his cheek, your touch tender as you worshiped his flesh. “I love you, Jasper.” His eyes burned from within, his lips repeating your vow as he descended on your lips.
“I love you.” He melted against you, his every muscle, every inch of his skin pressing against your body, his fingers working the fabric from your waist, parting from his kiss to remove your garment completely. You shied away from his gaze for the span of a minute, opening once again when he had removed his own shirt, his hands tentatively caressing the skin at the bottom of your rib cage. “So beautiful…” he whispered, his lips lowering to press slow, honeyed kiss to your abdomen. Your hands instinctively tangled in his hair as his hands worked the button of your jeans, undoing your pants and working them from your legs, leaving you bare before him in your undergarments. His hands found your hips, then, lifting you from the sheets until you were pressed against his chest. Your fingertips trailed curiously down the center of his chest, reaching lower and lower until you discovered the waistline of his jeans. His breath caught with your own when, surprising the both of you, your hand wandered further south, brushing timidly against the bulge his pants concealed. His eyes met yours then, blurred by the relative darkness, boring holes into your very soul. He was still in your arms, moving only when you did, your hand shifting along the coarse denim as you traveled upward to unbutton his pants. His chest expanded beautifully, his lips crashing against yours, moving swiftly to the line of your jaw, marking you with fervent kisses. You worked the button loose, and Jasper was standing by the bed, kicking his pants off entirely before crawling above you, his hand ghosting over the cup of your bra. You thrilled at the contact, arching your back to make the process of unhooking the garment easier. You wriggled free of your straps, watching Jasper’s eyes devour the sight of your uncovered chest, his hands moving with a patient slowness to cup your breast in the palm of his hand. Your breath rushed from your lungs, Jasper’s eyes flitting to your face, your lips parted in bliss. He smiled, then, before his fingers were working beneath the waistband of your underwear, slipping the fabric down your legs until it no longer clung to your body. He pulled you once more into a kneeling position, his eyes hungry on yours.
Your heart hammered in your chest, your nerves alight with naked electricity as Jasper knelt before you, removing the last piece of clothing that masked the full glory of his chiseled body, his eyes never leaving your face as he worked himself free of his underwear, his erection uncovered, the both of you bare before each other. You inched toward him instinctively, his body reacting in a similar fashion, his hands closing around your waist as he dissolved the distance between you. His palms stroked your hips as his lips found yours, his passion translating fluidly from his mouth to yours, his hands clinging to your back as he settled you back against the pillows, his body arching over yours. Your hands moved to tangle once more in his hair, stopping suddenly in their path as Jasper’s hand caught your wrist, his eyes on yours as he kissed the tips of your fingers. You pressed on, your hands at the nape of his neck, his eyelids closed in bliss as your lips found the muscle of his shoulder, a small sound of pleasure escaping from between his lips. He hovered over you, straightening moments later, his hands parting your legs with gentle precision. He nestled himself between your thighs, his eyes never once leaving your burning face, his hands massaging the creases of your hips. You nodded, almost desperately, reaching to pull his body back over yours as he prodded against your entrance. Your mouth opened at the carnal contact, your cheeks warm with the fire of your blood as Jasper eased himself inside of you, his eyes burning with a heat you didn’t know him capable of as he shifted his hips, working himself deep within you. He moved slowly then, until he stilled, his lips at your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek before speaking your name. Your fingers clung to his back, urging him forward.
He obliged, thrusting deep within you, his movements subtle and captivating, his every shudder sending you gasping for breath where none existed. He rolled his hips, his lips on your neck, your hands grasping for a holding on his shoulders. He moved slowly, patiently, enjoying and allowing you to enjoy every sensitive inch of him inside you, his hand moving to grasp your hip as he thrust within you. He rolled sideways, lifting you with his movement until you rested on top of him, his arms propelling him to a seated position, his hands deftly re-positioning your legs until they wrapped more securely around his waist. His eyes, heavy-lidded, were locked on yours like a magnet as he lifted your hips and lowered you onto him, your breath rushing from your lungs, carrying his name on a low moan. He smiled, pressing his joy to your collarbone as be repeated the movement, your voice producing sound without formulating words. Jasper’s movements became faster, though never rushed or hurried, his hands grasping your hips with a tender security, his breathing laboured as your body began to tremble. Your mind was clouded, the pulses of his hips meeting your own sending deafening waves of pleasure through your body, concentrated at the meeting of your bodies. Your mouth was open over a wordless cry as you clung to all you could, holding his gaze with the will of one desperate for salvation, your breathless whisper of his name the last conscious sound you made before you collapsed against his chest, your body humming with ecstasy. He shuddered beneath you, thrusting through his high, his hands smoothing over the curve of your spine before he stilled within you, his head tipping backwards. You lifted your face from his shoulder, resting your forehead against his, catching your breath together, your fingers tracing the lines of his cheekbones. He smiled, breathless with love, his hands cradling your cheeks to bring your lips to his, punctuating the night with the sweetness of a kiss.
He held you as you both collapsed to the sheets, your legs tangled blissfully, your cheek resting on the firm muscle of his chest. He reached blindly for his bed sheets, covering what he could of your body before resting fully against the pillows. You traced the lines of his chest, your heart calming as your breath regained stability. Jasper’s fingers toyed absentmindedly with strands of your hair, his quiet breathing lulling you to sleep,
your bodies melted together as evidence of your devotion, safe in the comfort of his loving arms.
(Sorry for sending you another tangled blurb) could you do the line "did I ever tell you that I have a thing for brunettes" with Remus?
I think you’ll find my current emotions/insecurities laced through this…it was unintentional.
Your smile drooped into a frown as you noticed Remus chatting with a girl from Beauxbatons. She was pristine. Her hair was done up in a perfectly messy bun, blond hair shining in the winter light. Her cloak clung to her in a flattering way, illuminating her picturesque curves. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her.
Her hand was placed on his bicep in a clearly flirty way and it disappointed you to see that Remus was not pulling away in the slightest. He seemed engrossed in her words, hanging onto each and every one of them.
“He’s just being polite, you know?” came a familiar voice from beside you.
“What?” you asked Sirius, his long hair fluttering in the breeze.
“He’s not into her,” he clarified.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Come on, (Y/N)! I’m not blind; I know you like him,” he chuckled.
“I do not!” you growled, annoyed by how easily Sirius had seen past your feigned indifference.
He simply raised his eyebrows, a shit-eating grin growing on his lips.
“Fine,” you admitted, “maybe I do, but it doesn’t matter. Remus would never notice me like that. Not when he’s got her hanging onto his arm.” You gave one last look at the blossoming couple, before muttering, “I’ll see you later.”
The Yule Ball sprang upon you suddenly, and though you really didn’t want to go, Lily and Marlene were certainly pushy.
“You look fantastic, (Y/N)!” chirped Marlene as you finished up your look.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, still a bit unsure about the fast approaching dance. The three of you were going without dates and though you loved being with your friends, you weren’t sure a ball was really your style.
By the time you made it to the Great Hall, the party had already begin. Boys and girls from each school were mingling and bopping along to the music. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Remus, the now familiar girl, lingering around him.
As you began to head back up to your dorm, a gruff voice asked, “May I have this dance?”
A tall boy from Durmstrang stood behind you, his eyes surprisingly warm in contrast to his voice.
“Um, sure,” you answered, slightly puzzled.
Guiding you to the dance floor, the boy introduced himself, “I’m Anton.”
“(Y/N),” you smiled.
“You look very beautiful,” he commented as he spun you around, his accent thick.
“Thank you,” you chuckled nervously. It wasn’t often you received that kind of compliment. Marlene and Lily? Sure. But you? Not likely.
By your third dance, you were becoming quite comfortable with Anton. You and he had a fair bit in common and made quick friends. You had already promised to keep in touch once the tournament finished.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Remus’ form approaching you, his jaw locked.
Tapping Anton’s shoulder, he huffed, “May I cut in?”
Anton raised his brows at you, making sure you had no objections. When you nodded signaling it was okay, Anton kissed your hand before heading off toward the refreshments.
Remus’ hands were suddenly on your waist as he whisked you around the dance floor.
“I didn’t realize you came with a date tonight,” he commented.
“I didn’t realize you cared,” you snapped back, unsure of where the sudden confidence had come from.
Hurt flashed through his eyes as he pulled back slightly, a hand rubbing his neck nervously, “Can we take a walk or something?”
You gave a short nod and followed him past the many dancing bodies and out into an empty corridor.
“Look, (Y/N),” he started, his eyes darting nervously, in an uncharacteristically Remus way.
“Don’t you have a date to get back to you?” you snarked.
Confusion passed over his face, “A date?”
“The girl from Beauxbatons.”
“We aren’t - she’s not -” Remus stumbled.
“Right, well I’m going to go find Anton,” you turned on your heel, suddenly intent on having a nice night even without Remus.
“I like you,” he announced, his hand wrapping around your wrist gently in an attempt to stop you from leaving.
“You like me?” you repeated.
He nodded, eyes glued to the ground, “As more than a friend.”
“I like you too,” you paused, “but the Beauxbaton?”
“She’s been trying to help me. Ask you out, I mean. I’m not - you know - good with girls. And then when I saw you with that guy, I just - I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to tell you,” he admitted sheepishly.
You subconsciously took a step toward him.
“Yeah,” he breathed, closing the gap and slowly bringing his lips to yours, a hand cupping your cheek.
The kiss you had been pining after for so long was everything you had dreamed of: soft and sweet and 100% Remus.
Pulling away mere centimeters, Remus smiled, “Did I ever tell you I have a thing for brunettes?”
Careful when dealing with shadow fairies. They might not look like much, but they are vicious little things. They form from the sentient shadows of neon lights and cloak themselves in the colours of halogen bulbs.
They feed on bits of light, using starlight or reflected rays of the early morning sun as a heart. After all, shadow can only exist if there is a light to cast said shadow.
Shadow fairies are mostly nocturnal, but not because they need the dark. They just enjoy the fear we humans have of it.
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: Expectations
5k words, R rated
It’s the first time Scorpius and Albus have been to the Manor together since they started dating. They can’t help but think about how far they’ve come since they first met, and they also can’t help but take the new-found opportunities that being properly alone together as a couple can offer.
This was written as a birthday present for the wonderful @abradystrix. Thanks for being an awesome beta, advice-giver, and friend. I hope your day is full of cake and happiness, and that you feel better soon! <3
My logistical advice-giver and brilliant beta for this one was @bounding-heart.
Author’s Notes: I really liked how this one turned out. Requested by @ask-kakashihatake , hope you all like it. I love writing for Negan!
I hadn’t had much of a chance to experience the new world.
He ruled the new world.
I had lived in Alexandria since the beginning so I was pretty innocent. I had never killed a walker or really been close to one. But I wasn’t afraid, well that’s what I told myself. If I was faced with a walker I could kill it. If I was faced with danger I would react accordingly. Hopefully.
Alexandria gained a terrible atmosphere ever since the events of Negan, especially after he killed Abraham and Glenn. I didn’t know them well but they were nice, good people who always tried to protect our group. Rick our leader was broken ever since that night.
I wasn’t there when it happened, I didn’t leave Alexandria often. I ran the nursery here at Alexandria so I stayed behind. I never got the chance to meet Negan. The infamous bat wielding Negan.
I suppose that was a good thing. Yet it created a mystery about him. One that I wanted to expose.
Fuck yeah! can I get kuroo, tsuki, katsuki and shouto spending the whole day with them just a chill day just training or relaxing or all 3
I had to kick out shouto! I did a random name picker, and he was the unlucky duck.
Name, he’s out of control. It’s up to you.
You get text messages like this from Kenma every now and then. You look under the false rock on the Kuroo family porch and retrieve the key that is always there. These text messages are about a certain bedheadded captain who has the tendency to overwork himself. You sigh, kicking off your shoes as you walk into his house. Your feet carry you to his room. His door is open, and you lean against the doorframe, watching your boyfriend. You notice his heel tapping restlessly against the floor.
Kuroo is hunched over his desk with text books all around him. One of his hands is anxiously scratching at his messy hair while the other one furiously takes down notes. You can hear the lead scraping at paper at almost an inhuman rate, and you know that his handwriting is illegible at this point. Even Kuroo won’t be able to read his chicken scratch later on. You know this as well.
Kuroo hums, not bothering to look up from his work. You notice cans of coffee haphazardly tossed in and scattered around the trashcan. You purse your lips.
“Tetsu, look at me.”
“Huh? (Name)? What’s up, babe?”
He doesn’t look away from his desk. You sigh. His voice is raspy and tired like he hasn’t used his voice in a while. You stride over to your boyfriend’s desk and close the book that he is copying notes from. Kuroo blinks and furrows his brows. He looks up at you with tired, bloodshot eyes. His hair is messier than usual, most likely due to his incessant scratching at his scalp. Kuroo opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off.
“Kenma texted me,” you says, “It’s time to take a break, Tetsu.”
“Look, babe, I’d love to but—”
“No buts. Take a break for at least an hour with me, then I’ll let you go if you want. Deal?”
Kuroo sighs as he tries to smooth down his hair, leaning back in his chair. You aren’t leaving until you get what you want. You both know that. And the ringing in his head is going to make it hard to argue with you. You kiss his cheek, and he lets you lead him to his bed. Kuroo flops down on the mattres. He groans; he has to admit that his bed has never felt so good. And you’ve never felt so right in his arms.
“Just one hour. Okay? Then I have to get back to work.”
“Just one hour, Tetsu.”
You kiss him sweetly before snuggling into his chest as you turn on a random movie. Kuroo settles into his bed with the comfortable weight of your body against him. He feels his eyelids growing heavier as he nuzzles against your hair. His dry eyes feel fantastic being closed. It won’t hurt if he closes his eye for one second. You smirk, feeling his grip tighten around his waist. Kuroo’s breath is steady and relaxed. You got concerned texts from Kenma every now and then, but you always know exactly how to handle your boyfriend.
“Why are you here again?” Tsukishima asks with a sigh.
You are laying down on the couch with your legs draped over his lap. Tsukishima is looking you munch on chips as you watch television in his living room. About an hour ago, you just waltzed into his home and made yourself comfortable. You’d think after years of your home invasions, he’d just be used to your spontaneous presence, but something always prompted him to ask why exactly he was your “lucky” victim.
“Because your mom likes me,” you respond, nudging him with your foot, “And I know you miss hanging out with me, Kei. You love me.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “This is my day off, you know.”
“My day to relax. And not be annoyed.”
“Yeah. I got it.”
“You aren’t going to leave, are you?”
“No way. And you don’t want me to, Kei. Admit it.”
You tickle his ribs with your big toe. The blond jumps and glares at you. Tsukishima adjusts his glasses, settling back into the sofa with his arms folded across his chest.
“No, I’m pretty sure I want you gone.”
“You’re just being a little tsun-tsun,” you tease, “You missed me.”
“No, I don’t.”
You roll your eyes and nudge him again. Tsukishima growls at you with a ticked expression on his face. His mean face falls away when he sees you staring at him with your most earnest eyes. Your lips pull into a grin, revealing your white teeth and glimmering smile. Tsukishima looks away.
“I missed you, Kei,” you say, your voice is lacking its usual teasing bite, “I’m glad your team is doing well, but I don’t get to see you anymore.”
He sucks his teeth, “If your going to stay, at least get your nasty feet out of my face.”
Setting your bowl on the coffee table, you lay your head in Tsukishima’s lap and grin up at him. He scoff as looks away, resting his cheek against his palm and hiding the pink blush that it licking at his skin.
“Just don’t annoy me, (Name). This is my day off.”
“C’mon, Kei, I’m always good.”
The two of you spend the rest of the day watching movies with your head in his lap and his hand threading through your hair. Of course, you annoy him the entire time, but Tsukishima can’t imagine a better day off.
You wipe at the sweat dripping down your cheek. Bakugou is grinning at you as he cracks his knuckles. Your boyfriend rolls his shoulders, and you spit on the ground.
“Are you going to finally learn this new move or am I just going to kick your ass all fucking night?” Bakugou taunts.
You growl as you attack the blond again. You try to breathe evenly as you wrap your body in a cloak of yellow light. Focus. You have to focus … but Bakugou’s rapid barrages make it difficult to continue to maintain your Sunny Cloak. You dodge his punches repeatedly. Bakugou lands a kick at the middle of your chest. You catch his leg and raise one hand to fire an energy blast. Bakugou bend backwards, placing his hands on the ground and avoiding your attack as he kicks out of your hold. His foot knicks your chin; you fall back, holding your face. You launch another energy blast.
He dodges, but only narrowly. Bakugou growls as he looks down at his burned shirt. His forearm twitches; your eyes flicker from Bakugou's arms to his face. He sees a sunburn growing on your neck. Your skin glows as you take more sunlight into your body.
“Come at me, (Name)! You’d better not fucking hold back,” Bakugou roars, “Lemme see this new fucking move!”
Your irises are shimmering with golden light as you suck in air with your nose. Your skin tingles and begins to burn as you near your limit. Solar Cannon: Hyperbeam. Opening your mouth, a stream of hot white energy is blasted at Bakugou. He can’t dodge. There’s no way. But he can lessen the impact by adding a blast of his own.
When the smoke clears, you are laying face down on the dirt. Bakugou looks at the damage around him. The trees in the surrounding area have been leveled as smoke rises from blackened stumps.
“What a fucking move. Too bad it turns you into a useless nothing.”
“Shut up,” you groan as a wave of nausea hits you, “Babe … pick me up.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, but complies nonetheless, picking you up and carrying you piggyback. You rest your cheek against his back; you can feel his muscles twitch with fatigue as he walks, but he doesn’t complain. You press a kiss to the nape of his neck. The boy jumps and hisses at you at a red blush flares on his face. He’s almost as red as your sunburned skin.
“Thanks for carrying me back, Katsuki.”
“Not like I had a fucking choice.”
“You could’ve just left me there.”
“Now there’s an idea. I should turn around.”
“But you’d never leave me, Katsuki. You love me way to much.”
“Don’t push your fucking luck, (Name). I’ll drop your fat ass right here.”
“You love my fat ass. Got the handprints to prove it,” you purr in his ear.
“Keep it up, (Name). I fucking dare you. You’ll be rubbing aloe on yourself.”
You laugh and squeeze his sides with your thighs, “Like you’d pass up rubbing aloe all over my body,”
Bakugou snorts as he readjusts his hold on you. Like hell he’d pass up rubbing aloe over your nude body. It’s definitely his favorite part of training with you, but you already know that even if he’d never say it.
Belief systems in The Testament of New Ezekiel and Temple Gate
I wanted to analyse some of the belief systems in Temple Gate, particularly The Testament of New Ezekiel. This does not exclude Val’s beliefs as their narrative is entwined with what made the Heretics. The Gospels of Knoth are a tricky business because they follow Christian imagery and certain Abrahamic formats, however, they are pretty disingenuous in many ways with Christianity and other Abrahamic formats.
This is evidenced by some of the imagery present and the words used. In fact, I think some Youtuber and Tumblr users specifically pointed out that gospels used the words “cunt” too much than actually proper sentences/words. Seeing “cunt” is a slang we can definitely see how this is a cultish text far removed from usual religious language, motifs, lexicon and imagery. Similarly, a point I wanted to mention and adjoin from the beginning is the phrase “breach hell’s cunt” is similar to Outlast’s “spirit breach.” I mentioned this before on another post. We can definitely see the use of semantics, contexts and lexicon favours a Murkoff setting and ambience rather than a traditional or even free-thinking Christian setting.
This post is long and I want to try to understand the Gospels of Knoth; so bear with me pals. We don’t get the gospels in chronological order, there are 15, so I tried to place some things chronologically. In conjunction, I want to include Val’s journals and such as Val, like Marta, is an indispensable figure in understanding Knoth’s gospels and also The Testament of New Ezekiel.
In the very first Gospel of Knoth there are these lines:
“6.For the seed of Prophet shall root the Enemy, that the Prophet may strike down with furious vengeance the bastard of lies begot in his own sin cleansed by his own blood, spilled of his own issue.” Knoth 1:6
Basically, Knoth is supposed to be the father of the Antichrist of Temple Gate. Though, definitely, the entire story is contradicted by Lynn being the mother. Lynn hasn’t slept with Blake in months. Unless, Knoth did something Lynn can’t be pregnant. Also, Blake is called “The Spiller of foul seed”, “rut-mate” to the “devil’s whore” and “The father.” Basically, the belief system definitely has literal problems rather than semantic ones.
Also, Knoth is “elected” prophet by “the blood wept in revelation” (1:2) which is completely strange and is not there in Christian Faith or Abrahamic tenets. Furthermore:
“4. O. Zion, Zion, thou that stonest the prophets sent unto you so that your house is desolate and the blood of your ill-got children is sprinkled upon the earth to feed the wheat that fattens your brood for slaughter. 5. For all flesh is grass to fatten the sacrificial ox or sacrilegious calf, O Ba’al, O El, O Guaglana, O Moloch, but grass left to wither and fertilised with blood will to seed and spread.” Knoth 1: 4&5
Well, you can see basically infanticide is stated in the very first gospel. And now we can understand why Blake coming to Temple Gate meeting the shadows heard them speak “All flesh is grass to fatten oxen. Sacrifice. Sacrifice.” by one guy and then Corgan, the guy who says “I’ll bleed you in the yard”, goes like “Consume the flesh, spice it well, burn the bones.” It is like they are performing a cycle of killing and infanticide to please their “god.” Additionally, the carrion of animals is considered to be food for “the wheat” as well, making them kill anything, after the tribulations to the end of days start. Marta herself talks about this, I believe, as “the saviour’s wedding supper.” which would be filled with “flayed carrion” and rotten women.
Knoth’s second gospel is pretty much reiterating this message. It talks about the holy mission of killing the antichrist as important. That any other understanding is antithetical to this mission on the grounds that “the line of Adam corrupted beyond salvation by the line of Cain” (2:3) which is also antithetical to regular Christian practices and also Abrahamic tenets. It talks about not being overwhelmed by lust and to be ready for the antichrist who is also described as such: “defend His Heaven by the spilling of the heart’s blood of the spider-eyed lamb, The Enemy, the unborn prince of lies.” (2:6) Reiterating that the people of Temple Gate are good stating: “ye holy, for I am holy.” (2:7).
The Third chapter is actually about Sullivan Knoth’s awakening. Basically, he was, as Outlast wiki also states, 34 years old and in debt and residing in Albuquerque. Knoth was apparently a shoe salesman when he started hearing the voices. However, these things also happened to him:
“13. And I silenced the voice and looked, and beheld unseen a great fire enfolding itself in the brightness of the rising sun, and out of the midst thereof a color out of space; 14. And my frenzied eyes cast back in unworthy gulfs of darkness, away from knowledge unbearable to man, and noise of the fury of the Lord came upon me; 15. And my ears bled as the member of a child at circumcision, and the Lord made known by this our covenant is made which ye shall keep. 16. He that hears where words cannot be spoke shall abide until time is no more, and the Enemy born of thine own issue shall be thy charge for my vengeance.” Knoth 3: 13,14,15 & 16
Sound familiar? It should. The light and the noise part, as gamers we experience as Blake. The rising sun cloaked with an obscure light, well, Blake faces that in the end and is swept away in some place. That is probably Murkoff’s way of indoctrination and showing levels of indoctrination. The Third gospel pretty much explains levels of indoctrination by Murkoff’s Towers. However, we can only piece this by the end as things happen gradually to our protagonist Blake.
The fourth gospel pretty much commands Knoth to do his duties. One particular paragraph:
“6. Turn ye from your evil ways, turn ye from your unsired rutting, take not pleasure in women unmarked by their natural blood covenant with the Lord. but fuck and multiply as the act was designed by the Lord.” Knoth 4:6
The language is coarse. It is also misogynistic. It talks about not sleeping with women, I understand, who don’t wish to conceive as that is “natural blood covenant.” These articles are also pretty isolationist. In the second chapter of Knoth’s gospels there is also that instruction of always being ready to holy purpose and never to stray away from it in idle conversations with family and such. Pretty much building an environment where infanticide and other violations can occur.
This is also reiterated in the school’s lesson plan in which the aim is stated “The children should fear their duty but celebrate it as a guaranteed entrance to Heaven”: obviously, this is how cults operate. The indoctrination is repeated with the bold title of “ENEMY: Your fear is a tool of The Enemy. God knows best.” Basically, also saying that their lives belong to papa and also “god”, is pretty much like cultist behaviour. Infanticide is a sin in Abrahamic tenets. One statement in the school lesson that completely erases Christian beliefs and Abrahamic tenets is this line: “Abrahamic killed Isaac in his heart.” This solidifies that abandonment by their parents and also by everyone is a religious cause whereas nowhere in Christianity or Abrahamic principles is this stated. It is obviously a belief system that evolved from being indoctrinated by Murkoff;s Towers.
Knoth’s fifth gospel follows on talking about their awakening. The light that he sees is:
“1. And I looked, and a gyre unwound from the night, a fire turned inward, burning from all directions towards the center, and drew the light from the walls of my room so that I hung in a void that shone in rainbows like oil upon a black mirror.” Knoth 5:1
I do like the metaphors in this one so kudos to the creative team. However, if you see the imagery and read the metaphors you will see that some of this imagery is inconsistent with what we define as “light.” It feels almost like a dark mass, almost Walrider like in nature (which Outlast wiki says the developers called “Nano Cloud”). It gives the players some interesting food for thought on what could have actually emerged and what was Knoth seeing. It continues towards the end with a long list of descriptions which I include to emphasize the “Nano” phenomenon:
“5. And their faces were innumerable and joined to one another, a thousand eyes and everything a mouth, with wings and jaws inseparable even in sight, and the purpose of the eyes and the purpose of the jaws was both for a more perfect consumption. 6. Thus were their faces, and in the next moment, they were the bones of the Four Horses of the Apocalypse and the bones of the Horsemen, too. 7. And in the moment that followed their faces were the sex organs of angels, and in the moment that followed a bonfire of flame with voices singing in beauty to rend the mind, and in the moment that followed a reflection in silvered glass. 8. For their faces were all of these things at once, and their wings were joined one to another and as they flapped woke to arrest time and I could not take air into my body.” Knoth 5: 5,6,7&8
As we can see this is where the idea of consumption of flesh and all of that figures so powerfully in Temple Gate. Basically, this is also why everything felt like an inevitable dream but as stated “not mine.” which is effaced on the Temple Gate town plaque. This is why Laird also believes that the Scalled Messiah will come down in locust wings. Furthermore, this is why Val commented how this all seemed like a message but nothing holy. This could also be why the letter from the cultist Lisa talks about thousands of cocks raping the earth. Abrahamic beliefs don’t necessarily have gendered angels so what sex organs did Knoth see is questionable and brings back the nano Cloud of Outlast. This entire thing also reminds me of Loutermilch demon being a mutilated, mutated demon chasing Blake in another dimension. It brings back the Outlast concept of Lucid Dreamers as well who are heavily affected by the Morphogenic Engine.
The description of the images also happens in Knoth’s sixth gospel. The wheels of Ezekiel becomes reference because the voice(s) pretty much tells Knoth about Ezekiel. Also, there are creatures upon wheels which Knoth sees. However, this part got me:
“6. The rings of the wheels were dreadful, and full of eyes round about them four, thousands of eyes and none of them human, but black and intelligent and shining like the eyes of beasts ready for slaughter. 7. And where the unfaced creatures looked, the eyes of the rings focused, for the spirit of the creatures was in the wheels, and the spirit of the wheels was in the creature.” Knoth 6:6&7
The eyes were not human and they were black. The wheels were moving and they seem the creature and the wheels were one. A reading of the Walrider in the Outlast wiki pretty much surmises that the nano cloud phenomenon of the Walrider is pretty much something that moves around and can dissipate. Thus, this imagery feels pretty much allusions to a creature like a Walrider in my opinion.
The seventh gospel is amusing at the end because it completely states something that goes against what it has been saying. What Knoth talks about and the indoctrination that is concomitant with what Variants say in Mount Massive:
“2. And the spirit entered the cunt of my mind and made seed there, and I became as the chorus of screams in the movement of the wheels.” Knoth 7:2
This is interesting that Knoth would call his mind a “cunt” as well and almost like Val he is talking about “a membrane seeking penetration” (Val 4) Also he was hearing voices and seeing things that is correlated to patients at Mount Massive.
What is amusing are these lines that come after:
“7. For if you worship Me but partway you are as the parent who cuts away the limbs of his child to better love what remains. 8. And that child will die and I will hate thee as a killer of little children.” Knoth 7: 7&8
For a cult, that rejoices in the “ecstasy of the lord” by blatant infanticide, murder, mutilation and rape I find that to be ironic. However, it seems that children already grown cannot be mutilated. Which could make sense seeing they may already be nullified as the probable antichrist. So, that can be another belief in Temple Gate.
The eighth and ninth gospels deal with the formation of Temple Gate. The lines that interested me the most is “you have not cut away thine eye, but the scale you took for an eye, and now you may see.” (8:7) and “lord spilled such vision into my split and bleeding orb, as man issuing seed into the split sex of a blossomed woman.” (9:9) The fact he would sexual scenes is pretty much now kind of staple. At the same time in the ninth chapter he stated:
“1.And the hand of the Lord took me by the roots of my innards and put a hook in my jaw and lifted me away from the bones of the dead Zion and shit of Publican swine. 2. And in the murk of outer dark I became as a cloud that covers the land and saw many things:” Knoth 9:1&2
Knoth is talking imagery similar to the Walrider again. Of being possessed by a demonic like entity. However, it does end with him thinking of the formation of Temple Gate.
The tenth gospel is interesting because it talks about cases involving women and Knoth’s somewhat “celibate” or unmarried life. Basically, they were pursued by authorities, after all their hideout in Lydia Deagan’s ranch was ruined, if we remember Knoth’s backstory that is online. Basically Knoth took on anyone in his cult:
“4. The Lord gave to Ezekiel more wives than brothers, though I turned away none; neither thief, whore, rapist, addict, murderer, pedophile, cripple.” Knoth 10: 4
I don’t know if “wives” meant that Knoth had numerous wives or basically if he meant he was sleeping with people and that meant they became his wives. Though the women part and the proclivity towards incest is later on stated. Basically, Knoth asked what he can do about getting the temptations to have many wives. Then this was told:
“6. It is simply commanded that you take no woman as rival to her sister, do not uncover ones nakedness while the other is alive. 7. Nor take your daughter as rivals to their mothers before their blood or while the elder is alive. 8. And of your wives and daughters you will have your greatest warriors, in wimples with weapons that censer. 9. And it shall be yours to multiply, to make children upon a legion of women, and children upon those children, and upon those children, until your line is a nation. 10. For from your nation the Enemy shall emerge.” Knoth 10:6,7,8,9&10, my highlights.
I highlighted the parts where incest is addressed as lawful in The Testament of New Ezekiel. Incest is outlawed in Abrahamic tenets and Christian Faith. Knoth practices sexual practices with every women who are even wives of other people. As one cult member I heard say in the barn, after we pass the first cornfield, talking about parentage of children: “I knew you was mine even if Papa furrowed your mama.” Basically, this is completely against anything Abrahamic but Knoth is told by the voice to do so. So, Murkoff wanted incest and this sort of sexual practices to happen. Perhaps, as I mentioned before, to allow the “ecstatic rage” and “proximity to death” as Rudolph Wernicke once stated. In fact:
“2. And I gathered my disciples, from the land of Al-Barquq, and the town of Holy Faith, and from the impotent apocalyptans in Los Alamos.” Knoth 10:2
Los Alamos is where Wernicke’s exit interview occurred in the 60s I believe around the time Knoth was also leaving. If you think about it, this converges aspects of Outlast and Outlast 2.
The eleventh gospel begins with another imagery. Though, it is of the antichrist:
“1.The fruit of destruction shall ripen within the foul womb of the martyred mother, the spider eyed lamb shall bring judgment of the lesser whore onto even the great whore who sitteth upon many waters.” Knoth 11:1
Basically, this could be the reason Marta calls Blake “the spider-eyed lamb” as Lynn is the “martyred mother.” Whoever brings the person who is supposed to bear the antichrist becomes the spider-eyed lamb. This could be anyone who is connected to the martyred mother. Lesser whores and greater whores: reminds me of Val personally.
The gospel keeps on going on how there will be people who will have “strong delusions” but these are all lies. And, those who do fall for them will be damned. This is somewhat like Abrahamic tenets but also completely perverted. The “delusions” that the cultists face are all for the towers. They may be “lies” or gateways that don’t matter to our own dimension but they can be dangerous so the cultists wanting to discuss them as Val stated was considerably smart thinking. Another perversion:
“9. For God has said the flesh of beast is yours only in sacrifice to me, even unto the flesh of your offspring.” Knoth 11:9
Of course, infanticide cannot be compared to making meat religiously edible. Thus this is total corruption of Christianity and of Abrahamic principles.
Chapter twelve talks about the coming of the antichrist but it is completely replete in pretty chaotic imagery and also contradictions. Saying to “harden thy hearts and thy hands, and sharpen thine blades” (12:2) so that they can finish the “bloody work”. What is disturbing is this is mentioned:
“4. Fear not the dreams that walk outside sleep, that by which ye shall be imprisoned and tortured; that shall dredge from the prisons of thy memory of your unrepentant sins… 7. And the air shall be as thick with locusts as will choke thy breath. 8. And ye shall be ravaged with boils and sickness; your body a temple and city to pestilence, and thy sex will wither and rot as flesh for carrion bird.” Knoth 12: 4, 7&8
Some of those things did happen for the radio signals of The Towers and the syphilis. It seems Murkoff had some way planned this or hypothesized, as the Old Traveler document showed, that the parallax and the feedback loop would definitely augment homicidal, hypersexual and chaotic thoughts.
The contradiction is “for all things must die when God finds no perfection even in his own perfection.” (12:10) This goes against Abrahamic principles and pretty much shows that “god” can only be Murkoff getting rid of its Subjects and Projectors after their use has been done.
Chapter Thirteen talks about heretics coming about and also the “hated of God, shall commune with the Enemy, shall bathe in the seed of the spider-eyed lamb” (13:5): Which pretty much sounds like Val’s orgy. Though, because it was already determined by the Old Traveler that Jenny Roland and other scientists predictable lascivious and voracious sexual appetite for the feedback loop this can explained by that.
The 14th Chapter states some things that are clearly carried out in the context of the game showing that signals may have had some of this information:
“1. And in the moments before her birth the Antichrist shall wake, eve in in the womb, and her woe and misery will bleed and corrupt the earth.” Knoth 14:1
The antichrist is a female child and Lynn also thought she was having a girl. This is interesting, Perhaps, a patriarchal, incestuous cult would consider a woman to be the harbinger of destruction. I wonder if Val, to celebrate this occasion, also made breasts and a vagina on their body out of mud (this could also be them reclaiming their intersex origins or showing they are trans woman). Val also wore “crowns of the earth” as in crown of thorns on their head. Could be a desire to be enveloped by the antichrist. Thus Val seeking penetration by a female antichrist is both a non-gender normative imagery and also a queer one.
The gospel continues with some of the things that were already happening:
“6. And the angels shall be carrion birds, who feast upon the flesh of kings, the flesh of mothers, the flesh of mighty men, the flesh of horses and them that sit on them, the flesh of free men and slaves. 7. And if they feed on the flesh of that damned child, then heaven is yours. 8. But if the child draws breath; if the eyes of the antichrist are allowed to take in the light of the world, they shall swallow the light of the world. 9. Then death shall reign again, and the endless suffering shall reward those who revel in suffering, and endless regret shall torture the righteous in the immedicable regrets of sin and shame.” Knoth 14: 6, 7, 8 & 9
The game pretty much fulfills these prophecies probably because they were bound a bit to happen or theorised as such. There were already birds dying as Blake saw them around. Marta also talks about the lines about eating the flesh of kings and strong men. The unused dialogue that talked of Val’s death talked about them happy about going to a hell thus “revel in suffering.” In the end, the child is not completely real as Lynn says there’s nothing there. However, Blake sees the sun being swallowed up and is swallowed into the gateway with Jessica where she says she will never let him and go and knows he won’t let her go either. So, Blake could have succumbed completely into the alternate dimension made by the radio signals. Perhaps, that is what happened.
Personally, Blake’s own history coincides with the gospels. Loutermilch also thought of Jessica as a culpable figure though being obsessed with her like anything. If radio signals talk about antichrist as female and all of that there is a chance that the belief of such things is Blake’s indoctrination to the signal being passed onto Jessica. I still think The Towers may create demons that walk out of dreams to also torture and get rid of possible “variants” outside the engine. Blake still could have become a lucid dreamer. The thing is the heretics and cultists are still pretty much bound by these visions and gospels which are all courtesy of Murkoff.
The fifteenth and last gospel is just an adherence to these gospels saying that they should be copied exactly and their lives should be lived righteously under Knoth as “ye shall climb the tree of life or be crucified upon it.” (15:7)
Already, we can see detractions from that. Either the radio signals are getting choppy after the storm or people are losing it. The New Gospels for instance are a sign of such a detraction. The new Gospels talk about Val and includes Val’s name into it, mixing it with the leader of the heretics and condemning them to damnation. The New Gospels Part 1 and 2 are a rewrite of the 11th gospel of Knoth.
There is also “Laird’s Gospel” or “Gospel of The Scalled Christ.” It is the gospel Blake picks up after escaping crucifixion and being buried alive. It seems Laird also fancied himself as a prophet or saint. Basically, there is also sexual imagery there which talks about Laird’s mind being too tight that the Lord’s penis would probably split it with the knowledge. I am not kidding you. That is exactly what is written there.
“17. And the Scalled Messiah shall rise from the grave, conquering sickness and conquering death, and those afflicted shall call him Immanuel. 18. And the Scalled Messiah shall say: this is my flesh, eat of it and be healed. Whoever eats of my flesh shall have eternal life. 19. And they shall proclaim the glory of Laird, who lead them to salvation.” The Gospel of the Scalled Christ 17,18 &19
It is completely obvious that Christian Faith or Abrahamic tenets do not speak of cannibalism. Laird got that on his own. ‘
In the midst of all of these things, Val ‘s journals are a secret. We know that paper is considered a luxurious commodity of Temple Gate. That only when copying the gospels they could be used or when some other instructed purpose. Val being a deacon has access to paper and is well educated. Their grammar, syntax and imagery is pretty salient and goes with the person they are. Val’s journals touch me at first as very emotional and moving. One can read them and realised they are looking at a person with a lot of emotional energy and intelligence, only they are becoming exhausted.
The first journal talks about having to take care of more children, seven to be exact. They are taking care of more than forty orphans.
“[W]ho love me desperately, as only can a child abandoned by the parents they thought were as natural and dependable a fact as the rising sun. And I love them. As I will never have children of my own, and have so much love to give. When God leaves them, too, I will be there with comforts and guidance.
What do these dreams mean?” Val 1
We can see already that Val is a kind and compassionate person. They are able to understand that what is happening to the children is unfair. However, Val’s journals also show the contradictions at Temple Fate. This first entry implies that either Val is infertile, told to be celibate or has been castrated. There has been no specifications about this. Was Knoth the only person who was able to have children? I don’t think so. So if Val is intersex it can be reason for them not being able to have children though if they were castrated it seems to go against Temple Gate’s understandings of birth and order.
The second journal is a horrific account of infanticide.
“ March 9
A quiet sky. Six more of my own children (though no blood of my own) met the blade this morning. I wept as at the slaughter of the issue of my own loins. I cut Marcus’ throat deep enough for the knife to scrape against spine, but still he was writhing on the pyre. And Papa smiled and sang about gathering at the river. All the voices of Temple Gate joined in chorus.
One one voice was absent, and conspicuously so.
God should have answered by now. Whether by words or action. God please give us an answer. Fulfill the promises of your prophet.
We have sent such oblations into the earth by blood and into the sky by flesh burnt to smoke that this continued silence is a message in itself. Do any love God as I do? As often as I do?” Val 2 (highlights my own).
This is a very graphic account of infanticide. Of actually feeling the pain of killing children. Val is wondering if “god” can love if “god” wants this. They have loved so much and yet they must do this. It feels barbaric and ruthless and completely inhuman. And, it is.
In fact, the killings always have been hard deaths. Val is not the only one who faced a child “writhing on the pyre.” When Blake crosses the first corn field and comes about the shed with the two cultists in them, one of them keeps on talking, the same one who says they knew the child was theirs if even Knoth slept with their wife says he can hear the voice of the girl he killed and tells her to tell God that he didn’t hurt her as much. The cultists says things like “Some cut too deep and got the windpipe and not the arteries. That makes a long time dying.” and “Laughing. Carrying on. Clear as a bell because I didn’t cut that windpipe.” These statements make me wonder if some of them try to sneak up on the kids and kill them so that they feel no pain or don’t want their children to look at them with questioning or accusatory looks.
Val’s third journal entry is also from March 9th. Though Knoth tells them that they will find the killed children in heaven; Val doesn’t really like any of this. This obviously starts making them go insane.
“But my dreams are nothing but the murder of my children. And I wake laughing, and aroused, and often wet with the involuntary lust of sleep.
I woke this morning thinking I was wetted with the blood of a child’s slit throat. But it was wetness of my own making.
The others are having similar dreams. We have dug a tunnel so that we may meet in secret. We gather and share our visions and wonder at their meaning,
I feel increasingly this is a message. But nothing holy.” Val 3
I think Blake and us gamers stumble upon the underground tunnel which is one of the first heretics caves we see and Blake thinks is a church or a heretic temple. It seems some people were obviously dumbstruck at what was happening at Temple Gate. Val, obviously, being one of them.
In June 17th, Val’s fourth journal entry, the penultimate one, it is short and full of aroused feelings and figuring out the voices are not God:
“Give me pleasure. Fuck me and cut my skin. Burn me and caress me. I am a membrane seeking penetration. Be aroused at my awe. Let my fear give you appetite. I love you, I love you, I love you. Tell me what you want. Tell me your name and I am yours.” Val 4
The fact Val wants to feel the voice with their fear obviously brings back the parameters of the Morphogenic Engine. The different names of the Walrider comes into mind. Val may be listening on a different frequency now. Could the Heretics be a lighter version of the Variants? In theory they have some similarities.
Val’s last journal entry is in June 19th. It is the 5th one before the letter telling Knoth “Come after us. Hunt us down. We are waiting and eager to murder and fuck every body you send up that mountain…My God is no god at all. But he is true…I do not ask you that you join us. I tell you: you will join us. Because our love is greater than you can ever imagine.” So. the last entry was telling val is “filled with sex and appetite” and tells the voice “You love me. I am yours.”
The image here that sticks out to me here is mountain. Even in Outlast wiki the Walrider is thus named also because it is a creature that lives up on Mountains. Mount Massive is built in a mountain thus it creates those connections. Val also has taken shelter in a mountain. The Walrider and mountain imagery seemed to collide. Thus another connection between the trilogy perhaps can be established.
We have seen Murkoff likes twisting religion, it likes brainwashing people using images and radio signals and that it likes to make base camps in mountains. The belief system of Temple Gate: The Testament of New Ezekiel, The Scalled and The Heretics are all groups that adhere in some way to the gospels of Knoth which are indoctrinated “planned” radio signals by Murkoff. It makes sense that these groups are obviously broke off from the same roots. Even though they borrow things from Christianity and Abrahamic tenets they are not really Christians nor of Abrahamic Faiths. They seem to have formed their new ideologies and Faiths based on also what Murkoff was encouraging them to do. It is interesting, however, to look at the subtle conjunctions between the games.
I wanna THANK EVERYONE who read this entire piece.
SCREAMING BECAUSE I JUST FOUND OUT THAT PETUNIA PLANNED LILY AND JAMES’S FUNERAL. OH MY GOD.
-IMAGINE REMUS FINDING HER ADDRESS AND POPPING OVER ONE DAY BC HE REFUSES TO HAVE HER MESS UP THE ARRANGEMENTS AND DISHONOUR HIS FRIENDS.
-PETUNIA OPENING THE DOOR, FLUSTERED BC SHE HAS TWO SCREAMING BABIES AND HAS NEVER BEEN MORE STESSED EVER AND HAS DUDLEY IN ONE ARM AND HARRY ON HER LEG AND THERES A STRANGE YOUNG MAN WITH GRAYING HAIR AND A LOT OF UGLY SCARS ON HER PORCH
-HARRY RECOGNIZING REMUS AT ONCE AND LETTING GO OF PETUNIA YELLING “UNC-OO MOO'Y! UNC-OO MOO'Y!” AND REMUS AUTOMATICALLY REACHING DOWN TO LET THE TODDLER LATCH ONTO HIS NECK LIKE HE ALWAYS DOES. HARRY QUIETS DOWN QUICKLY AND JUST CURLS UP BC IT’S SOMEONE HE KNOWS AND UNCLE MOONY!
-PETUNIA BEING FLABERGASTED AND FINALLY ASKING, “HOW DID YOU DO THAT? I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO GET HIM TO STOP FUSSING SINCE HE GOT HERE.”
-REMUS EXPLAINING THAT HARRY HAS DONE THAT SINCE DAY ONE AND ASKS POLITELY TO COME IN BC HE HAS SOMETHING TO DISCUSS WITH HER
-PETUNIA ALLOWING REMUS IN AND STATING SHE’S GOING TO PUT DUDLEY DOWN FOR A NAP AND TO PLEASE MAKE HIMSELF COMFORTABLE IN THE SITTING ROOM
-REMUS SITTING AWKWARDLY ON AN ARMCHAIR AND HARRY LOOKS UP AND ASKS “UNC-OO MOO'Y, WHERE MUMA? WHERE DADA? WHERE PA'FU?”
-REMUS NOT KNOWING HOW TO SAY THEYRE DEAD BC SIRIUS SO HE SAYS “HARRY, I NEED YOU TO BE A BIG BOY. MUMA AND DADA… THEY LOVED YOU LOTS AND LOTS BUT THEY HAD TO GO BYEBYE.”
-“WHEN MUMA AND DADA BACK?”
-“HARRY, I’M SORRY BUT THEY HAD TO GO TO HEAVEN.” AND REMUS IS CRYING BECAUSE IT’S SUDDENLY REAL AND HIS FRIENDS ARE ACTUALLY FUCKING DEAD AND IT HURTS AND IT HURTS SO MUCH HE WISH HE COULD RIP HIS HEART OUT AND NEVER FEEL AGAIN
-AND HARRY IS CONFUSED SO HE GRABS REMUS’S NOSE IN ATTEMPT TO COMFORT REMUS AND STARTS BABBLING ABOUT MUMA PLAYING PEEKABO AND DADA HIDING UNDER A BIG FLAPPY CLOAK AND A GREEN LIGHT AND UNCLE MOONY ITS JUST GAMES
-PETUNIA COMING BACK DOWNSTAIRS TO SEE REMUS SOBBING AND PETTING HARRY’S HEAD AND TRYING TO EXPLAIN THAT MUMA AND DADA CAN’T COME BACK BUT REMUS IS CRYING SO MUCH HE CAN BARELY SPEAK SO SHE OFFERS A HANKERCHEIF AND ASKS WHAT HE CAME FOR
-AFTER HE CALMS DOWN ENOUGH HE FLAT OUT TELLS PETUNIA THAT HE IS GOING TO HELP WITH THE FUNERAL
-SHE’S ACTUALLY RELIEVED AND SAYS SHE HADN’T THE FAINTEST TO INVITE SEEING AS SHE WASN’T CLOSE WITH LILY (AT THIS REMUS SNORTS) AND COULDN’T JUST ATTEND HERSELF
-SKIP TO THE FUNERAL. IT’S AN OPEN CASKET AND DUE TO MAGIC BOTH LILY AND JAMES ARE IN THE SAME CASKET AND THEIR HANDS ARE INTERRWINED AND IT LOOKS AS THEYRE SLEEPING IN THEIR FINEST CLOTHES (LILY IN HER WEDDING DRESS, AS IT WAS HER FAVORITE ARTICLE OF CLOTHING AND NOT LONG OR OVERLY FANCY AND JAMES IN A SUIT BUT INSTEAD OF A SUIT TOP HES WEARING THAT RIDICULOUS SHIRT HIM AND SIRIUS MADE THAT HAD “I HAVE THE WORLD’S HOTTEST WIFE” PRINTED ON IT)
-REMUS IS SITTING TO THE RIGHT OF PETUNIA WITH HARRY IN HIS LAP AND ALICE AND FRANK ARE TO THE RIGHT OF HIM
-THE SERVICE IS GORGEOUS WITH DUMBLEDORE CONDUCTING IT IN THE RIDICULOUS PURPLE ROBES WITH YELLOW STARS THAT JAMES ABSOLUTELY LOVED
-WHEN IT’S TIME TO GO UP AND VIEW THE BODIES, PETUNIA LINGERS A SECOND LONGEUR THAN HER HUSBAND BUT QUICKLY MOVES
-REMUS GOES UP WITH HARRY
-HARRY MANAGED TO ESCAPE REMUS’S ARMS AND LANDS IN THE COFFIN YELLING, “MUMA! DADA! WAKEY!” OVER AND OVER AND HE’S SO CONFUSED AS TO WHY THEY AREN’T ANSWERING. FINALLY HE TURNS TO REMUS, CONFUSED, AND ASKS, “UNC-OO MOO'Y, PEEA'BOO?”
-EVERYONE IS FROZEN, WATCHING THE TINY BABY POKE AND PROD HIS PARENTS. MCGONAGALL IS CRYING AND REMUS IS SOBBING AGAIN AND HE’S TRYING TO EXPLAIN TO HARRY THAT THEY CAN’T
-DUMBLEDORE SWEEPS IN ALL MAGESTICALLY AND HARRY SHRIEKS “DUBLDOR!” AND DUMBLEDORE IS ABLE TO EXPLAIN THAT MUMA AND DADA ARE GONE IN THE NICEST WAY POSSIBLE BUT SO HARRY UNDERSTANDS AND HARRY STARTS CRYING AND SAYING HE WANTS MUMA AND DADA
-REMUS GRABS HARRY AND BEGINS TO SHUSH HIM AND LETS OTHER PEOPLE SAY GOODBYE TO LILY AND JAMES AND SUDDENLY PETUNIA AND VERNON ARE OVER AND HARRY IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF REMUS’S ARMS AND BEING TOLD THAT REMUS IS NEVER ALLOWED TO COME OVER AGAIN AND IF HE DOES THE POLICE WILL BE CALLED AND REMUS IS NOT ALLOWED TO EVER CONTACT HARRY OR THE DURSLEY’S AGAIN
-REMUS JUST STARES NUMBLY AS THE DURSLEYS STOMP FROM THE HALL WITH HARRY CRYING AND SHREIKING, “UNC-OO MOO'Y! UNC-OO MOO'Y! I WAN’ UNC-OO MOO'Y!” AND SUDDENLY REMUS IS CRYING FOR WHAT SEEMS LIKE THE MILLIONTH TIME AND IT FEELS LIKE LILY AND JAMES DIED ALL OVER AGAIN AS HARRY’S CRIES FADE AND HE FALLS TO HIS KNEES AND HE’S SCREAMING IN PAIN BECAUSE IT’S TOO MUCH AND HE DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS AND HE’S DEMANDING TO KNOW WHY THIS HAD TO HAPPEN
-REMUS LUPIN IS 21 AND HIS ENTIRE FAMILY HAS BEEN TAKEN AWAY FROM HIM WITHOUT MERCY
Alone I stand upon this very mountain…. Staring ahead into the giver of life…. Down she goes, in all her beauty and bright! Her light cloaks us all, to celebrate anew! Death and rebirth embraced once more! Together forever! Hail Sunna!
(In solitude my soul dwells, and thus I wish to those who see alike, to those who feel alike, to those who are alike, a happy summer solstice!).
Yo! Can I get reaper with an s/o like Widowmakers but they remember him a little? But every time he approaches them they're frightened due to the trauma, thank you!
((Soooo, I may have used a bit of darkMercy vibe here, where they acknowledge that they need something to hurt Reaper so she kidnaps and creates this one))
‘Keep out of his range. Do not engage. Retreat if seen by subject.’
Infiltration had been your main goal; break into the outlier Talon organization, gather information from their computers systems and get back out. You had packed extremely lightly, a blaster pistol on your hip, a thigh bag, your transdermal poison gloves and your ‘invisibility cloak’. Thus far the light bending and refracting cloth had been keeping any direct action unnecessary, a quick jump into a corner or against the wall behind the fabric shielding you from plain sight. That is how you had made it so far into the building, your back pressed against the wall as you stalked into the mainframe room, ducking into a corner. There were still men wandering about but you weren’t worried. This plan had been perfectly crafted by Angela, the pacifistic omnipotent surgeon. She said that Talon had information on cell absorptive-regenerative technology that could be absolutely ground-breaking for her work. She needed it if she was going to learn how to perfect her research on life-restoring and healing technologies. And you were more than happy to oblige the woman, she had saved your life afterall.
She had found you after you had been critically wounded and left for dead in a coma in Lagos after a protest between pro- and anti-Omnics broke out. She had responded with other international disaster services and had taken you back to her facility in Sweden to personally look into your recovery. She had tended and cared for you the entire year, keeping your body healthy and tending to you as best as you can; staving off muscular atrophy, brain damage and bed sores. Even with all her hard work, however, you still had woken in ‘imperfect health’ as Mercy had called it.
Retrograde amnesia, most events prior to waking up in her lab wiped from your mind. Your name, your age, your background; all gone and forgotten. You had the occasional flicker; blue uniforms and sparkling, gold metals, the ever-lingering smell of peanut butter, a swirl of words and phrases in languages you had never known but could somehow understand and a man in black. He came to you in your dreams most nights; a face you couldn’t see and a person you couldn’t reach. But you knew him, you could feel it in the very pit of your being. He meant something to you, he was someone important to you…but you couldn’t for the life of you remember.
Angela said that you would remember soon enough, explained that worrying over it would do nothing more than push the memories further from your mind. Angela had taken to calling you Veil, a name that tugged at something in your chest, something that made you feel a slight connection to who you were. She even offered you a way to take your mind off of struggling to remember, she would train you. And train you she did. Rigorous physical hand to hand combat, arms training and poison applications. You had stumbled your first few weeks but you then found yourself using muscles and attacks you had never seen before. Muscle memory, Angela had explained, hypothesizing that you must of had some type of training before all this had taken place. You had learned to love training, it gave you a connection to the life you couldn’t remember, to the person you were before all of this. That’s why when Mercy had asked you to use those skills, you had jumped at the chance. Jumped at the chance that maybe, just maybe helping Angela would unlock the barrier in your way.
“HQ to Veil, come in Veil.”
Your hand flew to your ear, Angela’s voice coming through loud and clear. You pressed yourself into a corner next to one of the computer’s control panel, throwing your cloak over your head before responding.
“Yes HQ”, you whispered, your voice barely rising over the sound of the computer fans in the background.
“I’ve found the computers. They’re switching shifts now. Going to extract the information and pop smoke.”
“Good girl…see you soon.”
You smiled, a swell of pride filling your chest as you pulled your hand away from your ear. Your eyes danced around the emptying room, smiling to yourself as you watched the last technician walk out, leaving you alone with the high speed computers. Your hands dipped into your thigh pouch, fishing out the sticky holopad. All she had to do was attach the device to the mainframe and it would do its magic, gleaning the information that Angela needed within five minutes. In, out and done in no time. Your hands pressed the device against the back of one of the mainframes, smiling as you watched the device come to life, code dancing across the screen. This felt oddly…familiar. The infiltrating, the stealing of information, the adrenaline rush at watching men come and go mere inches away from you. It rattled something hard in your mind, your body flinching as you tried to think too far back. Angela had warned that this was a sign that you were pushing yourself too hard but…you could feel something back there, your fingers grazing it but not able to fully grasp it.
You nibbled on the inside of your cheeks, fingers tapping against the warmth of the mainframe as you mentally counted down. Your fingers hovered over your sidepiece, your foot bouncing as your eyes darting around. Something felt off. Something was off. The room had gone eerily silent, the sound of computer fans gone.
“What in th—”
Black smoke surrounded you, forcing your back against one of the tall computers, an arm pressed against your throat. Your hands came up trying to claw at the offending limb, fingers slipping through the viscous black gas before both of your wrists ended up pinned above your head. This is who Angela had warned you against, who she had told you to immediately run from if encountered. This was ‘The Reaper’.
Your eyes danced over him, trying to search for a weakness to allow you to escape. Black armor, black clothing, black hood with a white mask, it reminded you of the barn owl…of the night you and— You eyes snapped shut, a reprimanding sharp pain crackling through your brain. You groaned lowly shaking your head and opening your eyes to glare at the monster of a man in front of you. This had to be his doing…right? You took in a gasp of air as you felt his forearm pull back, his red eyes looking you up and down.
“What do you–”
‘Mi reina, te amo.’
‘Keep that lip up and I’ll show you want happens to bad girls.’
‘I love you, Y/N.’
Your body went stiff, unfocused eyes going wide as memories hit you like a blow to the head.Y/N. Y/N. That name. Why did you know that name. Why did you know that voice? What…were those memories?! Tricks…they were tricks. You couldn’t know this person. This is why Angela had told you to run, he was manipulating you. He had to be.,…right?
Adrenaline came swooping in, hitting you like tank, hand grasping at your pistol as you dropped your body weight. Your hand ripped the holopad off of the machine as you went to the ground, spinning and throwing your cloak over your head. You needed to get away from him, he was trying to confuse you. You took off running, sparing a glance over your shoulder as you doubled back the way you came, hand lifting to your comm.