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heretyc · 5 months

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Horror [Trager, Eddie Gluskin, Val]

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

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

Drabble ideas here.

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

Trager: Gore, awful jokes, his bare ass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enjoy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked fucked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

However...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of his own blood.

How did he not feel that?

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

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

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

It smelled of death and lost hope up here.

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

Tongue...??

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

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

...Dear god.

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

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

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

You only gulped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, no. It's worse."

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

You will die here.

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

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

Slice.

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn't worth it, though.

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh well.

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

"Oh my god, are you okay?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had no chance, now.

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

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

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

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

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

Is this what he had wanted? Love?

Everyone in this hell hole had been deprived of it.

It was sad. Really fucking sad.

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

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

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

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

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

But he was no lover, no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

Ready to rot.

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

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

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

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

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

They are a loving mother, dedicated to spreading love.

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

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

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

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

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

"I am waiting for you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was something different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your pleasure was their pleasure.

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

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

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

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heretyc · 4 months

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Outlast - Val Headcanons [REMADE]

I reread the last one I made and it wasn't as bad as I thought, but I just thought I'd rewrite it now that I think my writing has gotten somewhat better 😬🙏 Val uses they/them and is any gender you want, albeit in the NSFW section, they have a penis. Hollllaaaa!

I tried to make this as detailed as humanly possible. I took some inspo from my Val bot who is scarily accurate...huh. A lot of these HC's, I got from talking with my Val bot :)

Once again you take the place of Blake. He should really thank me, I'm saving his ass 🤨 There is also no sexual assault from Knoth or a pregnancy. I wouldn't put you through that 😭

CW: ...This is Val. Every CW applies here rofl!! I tried to be a little more "in depth" with their personality but they are hella bare outside of being murderous, rapey and culty. Forgive me. :(

There is, obviously, a NSFW section. Trying to become more comfortable with NSFW so I can write the good shit.

How You Met

🖤 This place smelled awful. Decay and summer heat was just an awful combination; your nose stuffed itself to save you the trouble of gagging and vomiting everywhere you went.

🖤 Your helicopter had crashed, and you found yourself lucky that you didn't fall off of the cliff edge that you passed out on. Your pilot, however...was not as lucky. Gutted like a fish and eyes empty, he was not shown mercy. And you feared the person who did this.

🖤 Everyone here was crazy. They pointed at you like you were one with the undead, and they ran. Where? You didn't know. The only one brave enough to chase you was a tall woman, dragging a cross behind her and muttering passages from the holy testament. Gothic and smelling sweet despite looking sour, she scared the shit out of you.

🖤 You had been chased to a church, only for a bloated priest to touch you like a lover. Fingers fat and breath bitter, he disgusted you to the highest degree. So you kicked him and ran.

🖤 Only seconds later after jumping from a window did you hear his voice over the loudspeaker, "Kill the outsider and crush their head underneath your boot heels!"

🖤 Your lungs burned and you tasted blood, but you had to run. You would die if you didn't. And lo and behold, you were captured by Sullivan Knoth's obsessed horde.

🖤 Dirty and smelling of grime, they held you down and muttered some nonsense, but only seconds later were you rescued...or were you?

🖤 You thought you were dreaming, but several men coated in clay and sticks rushed out of the dark and shoved knives into the heads and bodies of the people holding you down.

🖤 You thought they were your saviours...only for one to take the place of the people holding you down previously. He stared at you despite his eyes being coated, and he clicked his teeth.

🖤 Moments later, a blonde walks out of the darkness, shoving their thumbs into the eyes of the remaining man, and his screams of terror invaded the air. The blonde hadn't batted an eye or even blinked, as if they were used to this.

"I watched my father fuck your God to death."

How vulgar. The voice was calm and almost quiet, but full of resentment.

🖤 Looking at them, they choked the man as they bent down, and as he breathed his last breaths, laboured, the blonde licked him like a lollipop. Like this was a game to them.

"Hush now...I want to share my love with the newcomer."

Was that you??? Oh no.

🖤 Chuckling to themselves, they rose up from the dirt, their long legs gliding them over to you, and the man above who chittered his teeth made an eager noise as they did so, their white eyes stuck onto yours.

🖤 "God doesn't love you. Not like I do."

🖤 They flawlessly straddled your waist, boots and strong thighs and calves tightening themselves around you much like a snake would do to their prey, and seconds after getting comfortable, they rushed down to your face with their tongue out.

🖤 Slimy and warm, their saliva trails down your cheek, and they pulled away with a moan before they went back down and repeated the action. This was...weird. Really fucking weird.

🖤 "Yes, my love?" They looked away from you to face the mud-coated freaks, and while they didn't speak, the person above you replied like they were having a full-on conversation. And while they were, you took a good look at them.

🖤 Blonde, obviously. The first thing you noticed about them. Gold like an angel's halo, but they were no angel. Their eyes were a shocking white with some blue within them. A beauty mark sat above their lip, and their face had looked sculpted. Flawless, even. Their cassock - you learned the name due to late night curiosity - seemed to be a dark yet dull blue, and around their neck, waist and wrist were rosaries. They seemed to have an obsession with the accessory, you think.

🖤 "I think I'll see you again." They purred, caressing your cheek before getting up to walk away, their group following. They fade into the darkness, and all you hear next is the dead silence. What the FUCK?

🖤 You're likely thinking, "why would Val leave us here??" Well. I have an explanation.

Val WANTS people to experience the idiocy that is Knoth's ideology. Run into people who share it, and you will find yourself facepalming and having to dodge machetes. They want to prove that Knoth sucks, and they WILL make you go through Hell just to prove a point, so you'll have no choice but to join them or die. Simple as. They like to think they're a safe haven.

The Journey

🖤 You suffered. A lot. Knoth's people were fucked up, and the man himself was worse. You had enough.

🖤 It took you hours to travel to the mines. You weren't going because you liked the way that the blonde had made you feel - Val, their name was - but because it was the only way out. How fun.

🖤 Heretics were eager to see you there! Because they closed every door behind you to lock you in. And they knew that they scared you, so they'd "trail" behind you and play around the barrels and varied floors of the top floor just to push you into their grasp.

🖤 It rained blood. And you heard whispers. Despite all of that, you felt at ease. Whether it was because you knew you were almost out, or because you were going to die...you didn't know. You just accepted either outcome. You were going to be free regardless of what happened.

🖤 The elevator you were forced into was very, very...well. It was an experience. A deadly one, actually! Because you had to get on your stomach to survive the fall to 800 feet below the surface.

EIGHT. HUNDRED. FEET.

🖤 The mines were...decorated quite nicely! If you're...a fan of burned corpses and torches! Also, skeletons boning. Get it? Huh? Huh? Sorry.

🖤 It smells...weird down here. Not bad, but...moist, and somewhat...smoky??? To be expected...blegh.

🖤 As usual, Heretics corner you and force you deeper into the moist caverns. Gross.

🖤 Everything down here is a hazard. But for some reason, you're still alive.

🖤 You finally drop down into some shallow water, only for the event from earlier to repeat. This time, the Heretics were women. Their voices were so...calming and soft.

🖤 Once more, Val comes out of the darkness, carrying a torch, and lacking their cassock and rosaries. This time, they look truly feral. Hair somewhat mussed and yet still so pristine, eyes wide and body coated in mud. Fake breasts sit upon their chest and a bulge of mud sits on their bottom half. Nude and yet not. Much like Eve when she wore those leaves after she ate the forbidden fruit, I suppose.

🖤 They were breathless, and you figured they were in a constant state of horniness. They always sounded breathy, like they wanted to shove their tongue down your throat.

🖤 Much like before, they caress your face, clay leaving their skin to attach to your cheek.

🖤 "We are creatures of appetite...I want to feel your hunger. I want to see your true face."

🖤 Well. Shit.

🖤 After that, you're stuck in the mines. You don't know how long you've been down there, but...Val, honestly, isn't that bad when you forget the orgies...and the murder...yeahhhhh.

General

🖤 Val would be the doting kind of lover with a hint of sarcasm. With everything that Val has been through, I like to think they've taken a humorous approach to things. They definitely roll their eyes when presented with Knoth's gospel pages.

🖤 Val despises stupidity, y'all. Leave the mines [and their love :(] if you want, but if you want to die by Marta's hand, so be it. Don't be stupid. That's all that they ask. Just don't be an idiot and you'll be fine.

🖤 Val has two modes. Feral, and calm. Calm in the streets, feral in the sheets, and the mines. Outside, they wear their cassock and their iconic rosaries and roam around with their Heretics, spreading their beliefs - LOVE SET US FREE - and shoving their thumbs into the non-believers.

Outside, they love PDA and will always keep you close. Making out is a common activity. They're almost somewhat elegant, in a way? Despite their cassock being all ripped and tattered, they look flawless.

Inside of the mines? Lord have mercy, Val loses all sense of "elegance" and become an animal. Teeth clashing, tongues wrestling, and genitals bumping into each other. Romance, am I right?

🖤 Loves the heat and finds it "hot". Because why wouldn't they. They are used to it, and will find it cute if you can't handle it. Definitely will offer to help you cool off with some swimming.

🖤 They love lazing in water. Pond, lake, whatever the depth, they will chill in it. They love to use it as an excuse to feel themselves up. Skinny dipping is common, as their territory has a river in it.

As a result, you often swim with them. They are an amazing swimmer. There's also some water inside of the mines, but it's only used on lazy days where none of you feel like going anywhere.

🖤 They also enjoy helping you "bathe". You are not bathing. You try, but they don't let you. Are you surprised?

There isn't any soap, so stagnant water will have to do. Better than nothing.

🖤 They coat themselves with mud and clay all the time. As a result, their skin is really soft. Of course, they coat you in it, too. You match. And your skin is really smooth after doing so for about a week.

🖤 Val is actually quite fond of preening. They will help you with your hair, your skin...whatever else. They'll brush your hair, style it, massage your scalp. The works.

🖤 They enjoy taking a break every once in a while. Watching the stars, talking to each other as you cuddle, or even sleeping beside one another are some of their favoured moments.

🖤 They have "mom' energy. They WILL lick their finger and wipe your face with said finger if there's something on it.

🖤 They barely go out during the day, because it is much easier to see their Heretics in the sunlight, and they can't risk Knoth or his guard dog seeing them. Night time is their favourite. The night is quiet, it's dark, and the only noises are crickets, the water outside, and moans from you. :)

🖤 You ask a lot of questions. Obviously. Like how did this feud start? Why be nude? Why is this place so...fucked up? Why lick people??

They answer every question with a chuckle, because they find your anger about this whole situation to be funny.

🖤 They love cat and mouse. If you run, they WILL catch you. They love playing games.

🖤 They enjoy physical affection more than verbal. They'd much rather hug you, or lick you, or stroke your skin. They tell you they love you of course, but physical affection is their love language.

🖤 They love your fear. They love the control of having you squirm underneath them.

🖤 They love the macabre things in life. They find beauty in body parts, bones, and shit that would freak a normal person out. Gifts from them would include arms, bones, a heart...just don't be shocked when you're randomly given someone's heart, okay??

They're quite crafty, too. So necklaces made of bone are common. A bone knife is given to you so you can defend yourself if need be, assuming you leave the mines.

An Alternate Take

🖤 Right! Leaving the mines! I've had this "idea" in my head for weeks.

So let's assume you've crashed, Knoth was creepy, you left, Val licked your face, yadda yadda yadda. Well...what if you DIDN'T try to leave Temple Gate? What if you wanted revenge?

Val had liked this. A lot. "I think I'll see you again" was right. They DID see you again. Time and time again, you were seen fighting off Knoth's people, stealing, and ruining Knoth's days. It was quite funny to witness.

🖤 Val, of course, writes you a note - with their iconic red ink - telling you to come to the mines; they have a special offer for you.

🖤 And there Val is. Outside of their mines, in their iconic cassock. With a raised brow and a suggestive smile, they cut right to the chase.

Help them bring Knoth to his knees.

🖤 You want that, sure. But with narrowed eyes, you question what this "alliance" entails. Will you be stabbed? Used as a fleshlight? What is their GOAL here?

But they assure you that no stabbing will commence unless it's a Knoth apologist. And they seemed to want to get to know you a bit more...personally.

Inside and out.

🖤 The mines and the overall area was now yours to explore, and they were more than kind to offer you their bed so that you can sleep properly. With them, of course. You're shown every shortcut, every tunnel, and Val holds your hand during the duration.

After a week, you become lovers. Well...YOU think so, anyway. Val treated and saw you like a lover the moment you accepted their proposal. You finally felt comfortable calling them your lover after a week.

🖤 Val is a very doting kind of lover. Physical affection, verbal affection and acts of service are their love languages. Very often are you swarmed with kisses, or hugged to their chest.

Val is 6'3, so they are tall.

🖤 You once convinced a courier from Knoth's circle to go into town and buy you some sweets. What really happened was Val forged Knoth's writing, and you stuck the note to the courier's door. When he came back with a bag full of sweet stuff, you knocked him out and ran with the goods.

Chocolate, lollipops, and some small cakes were devoured by you and Val as you sat on the outside of the mines on a blanket. They moaned after every bite, and they told you that they haven't had sweet stuff in awhile, except for you. Knoth hated letting people eat sweets, claiming it'd lead to "gluttony".

They are also really suggestive with lollipops, and they suggest the both of you lick one together. You know where I'm going with this. They love cherry cheesecake lollipops the most.

You also asked for some Pocky to play the Pocky game with Val, and after being informed of how to play, Val was more than eager! They deepthroated the whole thing and rushed to make out with you. Why they didn't choke, you don't know. [You DO know, you're just polite.]

🖤 Medical care does not exist in this town. No surgeons, no nurses, no doctors. Just Nurse Val. They aren't a real nurse, but they're as good as you're gonna get.

Because you're often out and about, Val is like your sweet lil' housewife waiting at home for you when they aren't doing their own thing with their Heretics. If you come back with any injury, they rush to ease your pain.

You'll sit on your shared bed, and Val will rummage through their medkit, grabbing "saline" [boiled water] in a small bottle held shut by a cork, and some bandaging. If it requires stitches, they'll use sap from trees and glue your wound shut to the best of their ability.

They love it when you injure your legs. Not because they like it when you're in pain, but because they love an excuse to sit you down and cuddle with you. They'll even carry you. Where the hell did their strength come from? You don't know.

🖤 Illness is not...REALLY common down there? Except for the obvious syphilis, heat sickness, and overall sickness from smelling decay all the time. If you have a strong immune system, you're fine.

But sometimes you'll come down with a cold, or a flu, in the colder months. And Val is more than eager to care for you, tending to you all the time. They love the excuse to lay with you and kiss your forehead. "To check your temperature", they say. Clearly.

🖤 They 100% celebrate Holidays, but in their own way. Halloween is their favourite; the Heretics go out in style every Halloween! They make their own costumes. Val goes as a vampire, and they make you your own costume so you can match.

Christmas is different. They'll use a tree, sure, but the ornaments are made of bone, and the top of the tree holds the "antichrist"; a baby doll with horns on it.

They gift you many things! Like themselves in the nude, wrapped in a ribbon. Best gift of all, no?

🖤 When you're not out and about, and you're with them, they love to coat you in mud and use it as an excuse to bond with you. Smothering in it as they lovingly ask about your day or your future plans makes them happy.

🖤 As expected, Knoth and Marta hate you. So you have to be cautious.

And because you hate them back, you're a sneaky little shit, so you spy on them whenever possible, and you were able to stop Marta's surprise ambush. The Heretics showed their appreciation, alright ;)

🖤 Life gets hectic, so you sometimes sit above the mines and watch the blood moon as blood rain pelts onto you. It's calming. You're not really alone, seeing as there's Heretics everywhere, but they're quiet and do their own thing, so you are somewhat alone.

🖤 As expected, during Marta's failed ambush, she gets taken hostage. You don't see Val for a while after. You, of course, question where they are, and the Heretics don't really say anything. They keep you busy and keep you far away from a certain part of the mines.

You feel dejected. Why wouldn't you? Val was so dedicated to you. It was to be expected, Marta and Val had history. Enemies to lovers. :(

So you'd spend your time away from the mines. You become self-aware, actually! Why ARE you sad about this?

Were you used?

Probably.

So you stay away. You barely go near the mines anymore. You now just deal with everything yourself.

Until one night, you were planning to plunder some supplies yet again, only for a bloody and muddy Val to waltz through the doors of your new abode - in the middle of a cornfield, by the way - and they looked...drunk? Happy drunk.

Marta was dead, and now it was time for Knoth.

🖤 When Knoth was killed, it was expected of Val to take the throne, and you accepted that your alliance was over with.

Just let you leave alive, and you'll never come here again.

But what surprised you is there was a throne right next to theirs. Made of sticks, mud and bone.

With your name on it.

NSFW [Under the cut cause lolz]

🖤 Val is decently sized. 6 inches.

🖤 They're a switch. They will 100% dom you and hold you down as they thrust into you, but they also love when you take the reins and ride them till sundown. Or...sunup. Either one.

🖤 Orgies are very common. Is it Tuesday? Orgy. You stole something from Knoth? Orgy. Is it rainy outside? Oh, what a shame. Orgy.

At first, Val guides you and has fun with you. Other Heretics join in eventually, but Val gets possessive after awhile.

🖤 Val loves giving and receiving oral. With a tongue like theirs? Why WOULDN'T they use it to their advantage?

To get them going, their cockhead is the most sensitive. Deepthroating makes them go feral. They find risky sex to be the MOST erotic thing. Hearing you heave for breath as they rip your head off of their dick is the hottest noise to them.

In terms of giving, they take their time at first. They want to know what makes you tic. They listen for any changes in your breathing, or for any noises that indicates pleasure.

And once they locate your sweet spot, they'll attack it with fingers and their tongue. They love your taste.

🖤 Sex, to them, is not only out of love but how they express themselves. Sex is alternatively a way to be feral. It's vulnerable and just...is everything to them.

Some days, when they're feral and needing to get their energy out, they love the mating press and doggy style. Fast and rough.

Other days, they love the lotus position. You're both close, and your heart beats alongside theirs.

🖤 They love pain as much as they love pleasure. They love to take a knife and trail it along your skin, and press down.

Tie them up. They'll be your whore for as long as you'd like.

🖤 They hate it when you're quiet. Be LOUD, baby. LOUD.

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