#corpse retrieval

[masterdisastre]

Look At Yourself - MasterDisaster - Katekyou Hitman Reborn! [Archive of Our Own]

Khr rarepair week day 2: Corpse Retrieval

Pairing: Lambo x Reborn

Audience: teen and up (just to be sure, because there's a corpse? Pretty much very innocent aside from that)

Triggers: poisoning, and I guess Reborn could ask and kiss, not the other way round

Enjoy! @khrrarepairweek

[cedefaci]

Five Times Vongola Settimo retrieved corpses at his CEDEF counterpart’s behest, and one time he made one

Vongola Settimo had the weakest Flame of all Vongola Bosses, but his CEDEF Commander was conversely, the strongest. Little is known of the enigmatic Spada, save that he was responsible for CEDEF's assumption of codenames based on herbs and spices, and that never had the CEDEF been more bloody and more brutal than under his leadership. Together, these two men laid down the foundations of what Daniela, the legendary Vongola Ottavo, would build upon to secure Vongola's place as the undisputed sovereign over a tight-knit Alliance of Families.

And yet these men's close-knit partnership broke apart, as the pressure of Iron Prefect Cesare Mori's campaign against the mafia grew. In the end, Spada chose not to rescue his dearest friend when he was imprisoned, awaiting trial, choosing instead to save and crown his goddaughter, Daniela, instead.

A love story with an angry ghost was always doomed to end in tragedy, and yet.

 “You need not wish me well.” His friend kissed his hand, the hand bereft of the Vongola Ring for the first time in more than two decades. “You have already returned love to me, when all I had was hate. For your sake, Fabio, I shall avenge thee, and see your children grow old.”

Simora di Vongola, 2, 3, 4, 5, 1

“Fabio di Vongola, your father is fallen.” Katzbalger’s face was solemn. “I, his consigliere, entrusted with one half of the authority to appoint his successor, choose you in accordance with his wishes, and so discharge my last duty to him.”

Fabio took the lacquered box from the Sixth CEDEF Boss’s hands. “It is true then.”

The round-faced man closed his eyes. “The Vongola’s reach may span the world, but there was no cure to be found for Simora, in this land or any other. He has chosen his end.”

“May he rest—Damn it!” The Rings scattered onto the carpet that was probably as old as they were. “Damn it, damn it all to hell! Father knew that he was weakening, the Alliance knew he was weakening, our enemies knew that he was weakening! It didn’t make him step down even if it caused the Vongola problems, so why the fuck did he decide that now was the time to make things right? What made him think that now was the time to put duty first? Why the fuck would he leave now?”

“Perhaps…” Katzbalger began delicately.

“No, don’t you dare try to give me his excuses, he’s an egotistical fucking bastard, mother’s been praying to every saint in the book, lighting enough candles to burn the church down, she’d have fucking built one with her own bare hands if she’d thought it would give her another hour with her husband, but his pride would rather have him die as Vongola Sixth than diminish with the people who love him!”

Fabio took a deep breath. “Tell me he at least took all those Azzarà dogs with him.”

“Not quite.” Katzbalger moved towards the door, looking pointedly at the grandfather clock that stood against the wall, “He got most of them, but Spada is cleaning up the rest. You ought to bring your father’s body home and complete your Ring, Vongola Settimo.”

Vongola Settimo. Three years later than he expected, but he had the title now. How long would it take before no one called him anything else? Fabio di Vongola. Vongola Settimo. He was no longer the disappointment, only heir because he was his father’s only son. He was the Seventh in a line that had continued unbroken for a century and a half.

“Yeah,” Fabio said, following his Intuition to his ring and sliding it on his finger, “I should. So, about this Spada—he a Rain?”

The soon to be former CEDEF Boss smiled sardonically, “Because he’s washing away the blood spilled? Nah, that’s what we all do, Rain or no. If you want to know more about him, go ask him yourself.”

The smell hit him first.

After a brief, embarrassing interlude in which he picked up the Half-Rings he had scattered on the floor and distributed them to his Guardians, they had driven to the manor where Don Vongola had made his last stand. He had then left them outside while he headed past the perimeter alone.

The smell of roast meat and gunpowder, sour piss and vomit and the stink of shit from fear-loosened bowels ripening in the summer heat, hung like a cloud in the hallway. The CEDEF agent on guard duty had to have been marinating in the stench for hours, that poor soul.

“Settimo.” The young woman saluted crisply, opened the door, and stepped aside.

Fabio acknowledged her with a nod and then headed in.

Well…

On second thought, he wasn’t sure whether he was sorrier for the girl or for himself. What had seeped through the cracks had developed into a foul but generally breathable fog, but the miasma at its source had congealed into an all but physical thing, thick and rich in the stagnant air.

He stepped over a disembodied limb and avoided the tangle of entrails spilling from its owner, shoes sticking to the ground. There to the right, a man and a woman, the man’s head at an unnatural angle, the woman’s body littered with the long, shallow gashes unique to Simora’s boomerang. Behind them, shards of bone and organs stuck to wallpaper that was liberally coated in blood and brain matter. Farther off, his father’s Flame had left a cluster of bodies unrecognizable, their clothes and hair charred and blackened, their skin covered in raised blisters, patches of pale round welts like cobblestones, some smooth, some burst and weeping clear fluid. And there, on the other side of the room, a trio of corpses pressed against a window, as if they had been struck down as they tried futilely tried to escape the room, so warped that they barely passed as human, with flecks of skin and flesh around their throats and great bites taken out of the meat of their torsos.

It was then that he decided to stop cataloguing the carnage; better to let the cleaners sort it out.

Sunlight poured in like molten gold, turning the charnel pit into an oven. His father’s body had been laid out upon a makeshift bier in a liquid pool of it, severe features softened by the gilt. Someone had combed Simora’s hair, damp with sweat, back into its usual neatness, slid his eyes shut, and folded his hands over his chest with his faithful boomerang clasped between them, as if he was a warrior-king of old, grave and grand and solemn in his repose.

What was he in comparison? The last and least, chosen only for lack of other options, the disappointing only son, no hero, no leader, more clerk than king.

“Hail, Vongola Settimo.”

Fabio turned around. The speaker was dressed in a snugly tailored black suit over a waistcoat of tell-tale indigo brocade, swinging a sword-cane with lazy grace. Just his luck, the Mist was a fucking peacock, strong enough to teleport and vain enough to show off. He steeled himself.

“I have you to thank for this mess, I presume?”

The Mist bowed, long, silver-blond hair swinging freely over one shoulder. “Spada, of the CEDEF, at your service.”

“Some service.” Fabio knelt by his father’s stiff body, where the ground was clean. “You couldn’t have gotten the Ring off before rigor mortis set in?”

“Why?” Spada asked, all mock scandalized offense, “Is it not meet that Vongola’s Heir should receive his Inheritance from Vongola’s Don’s hand?”

So speaking, he vanished the glass from the windows, letting in a tepid breeze. It did little to improve their surroundings and even less to change the fact that talking with the CEDEF agent was an exercise in forbearance.

Spada was a Mist, Fabio reminded himself, and there was always something wrong with the good ones. His own Ligurio wasn’t much better. He sat back on his heels, prize in hand. “Are you advising me, Outside Advisor?”

“Merely being conscientious.” The scent of orange flower water swirled about them as Spada joined Fabio at his father’s side. “After all, my authority extends only to this—”

He tapped the CEDEF Half-Ring on Fabio’s finger. “—and even then only when you bestow it onto me.”

A reminder. The man had not been confirmed CEDEF Commander yet.

Spada was presumptuous, insolent. But he had earned it with his casual power, exercised with breathtaking mastery, with Katzbalger’s trust, giving him responsibility over the matters of Succession, and with his encyclopaedic knowledge of law and custom, even if it was used to push the lines of acceptable conduct precisely as far as they would go.

Who, in their generation, could hold a candle to that bonfire? His father’s fingers were warmthless and stiff under his own.

Certainty was addicting, Will fed on itself. Don Vongola slid his Ring off and dropped both halves in Spada’s hands.

He had caught the Mist by surprise, and the other man’s disconcertment was supremely gratifying.

“What is this, Fabio di Vongola?” Spada counterattacked, drawling to buy time, “Such impropriety. You have not received the Sin—it is not yet time for me to take this back.”

“The giving of these Rings from one hand to another’s signifies much.” Settimo said, meeting the eyes of what could be the strongest Mist in the world, but for the Arcobaleno, “From me to you—trust. From you to me…”

“…support.” Spada concluded, “Is that what you ask of me, Vongola Settimo?”

Fabio looked down at that little twist of some unknown alloy, passed down through the generations, “With his half alone, my father enacted vendetta that shall soon shake the Underworld, but in me, the blood runs thin. I shall need its mate as well, if I am to hold my own with the sword as well as the pen.”

“If that is what you require,” Spada completed the Sky Ring and held it for Fabio to take, “Then the strength of the CEDEF is yours to command.”

Fabio accepted the offering and rose to his feet.

The sun had moved. The light was fading. It was time. “Well?” He asked, “Who shall carry my father to his final rest?”

It was the question Spada had been waiting for, as expected. The peacock of a Mist stood and struck the ground with his cane.

“Who else, but the defeated dead?” He laughed, as mangled corpses shuddered to life.

“Who else.” Fabio repeated flatly. There was always something wrong with the good Mists, and he had chosen this one of his own free will. Who else indeed. He raised his chin and joined his CEDEF Commander at the front of the ghastly pallbearer’s queue.

 Currently, CEDEF codenames are based on different types of swords, from the german Katzbalger to the Roman Spada. (Yes, Daemon is just going by his surname) Fabio’s guardians, on the other hand, are named after the characters from Machiavelli’s satirical comedy“the Mandrake”.

next

[dunmeshistash]

Dungeon Meshi Human Interracial offspring (Mostly Spoiler Free)

As you might know, in Dungeon Meshi "human" is a term that refers to not only "tallman" (the equivalent of our world humans) but also Half-Foots, Ogres, Dwarves and Elves.

Besides the weird bone counting classification Kabru made I think one of the defining "human" aspects might be being able to have offspring with each other (unclear if that's possible at all between human and demi-human).

That said the Adventurer's Guide has some information about it that I wanted to share.

First, Humans in dungeon meshi are divided between short and long lived races, those are:

Long Lived Human Races:

Elf

Dwarf

Gnome

Short Lived Human Races:

Tallman

Half-foot

Ogre

As a general rule mixed offspring seems to be infertile but there's some exceptions.

Confirmed mixed race offspring that can leave descendants (Fertile offspring):

Tallman x Half-Foot

Tallman x Ogre

Dwarf x Gnome

An easy chart with the info! (It's not that complicated but its easier for me to see like this) (edit: added info what mixes have confirmed and speculated characters)

Seems like short-lived species can only have fertile offspring with each other and the same for long lived. Although there's no information about elves being able to have them with any other races, maybe because they live so much more than the other long-lived species (400 vs 200 & 240)

There's also no information about Ogres with Half-foot but I don't imagine the logistics to produce offspring would work there 😳

Another thing is that the Adventurer's Bible describes that the tallman have had an explosive growth due to having fertile offspring with half-foot and Ogres , so I wonder if that means their offspring are tallman too? Or are they still half-half-foot (a funny name) and half-Ogre? Unclear!

some of the confirmed mixed characters:

Corpse Retriever Leader - Half-Dwarf (Dwarf x Tallman)

Corpse Retriever Priest - Half-Gnome (Gnome x ? [Probably Tallman])

Fionil - Half-Elf (Elf x ? [Probably Tallman])

For the chart I added them as confirmed half-tallman due to their height/looks, I'm just being overzealous here.

Speculated mixed from the race portraits

In order: Half-Foot page: possibly half-dwarf | Elf Page: possibly half-foot or gnome mix | Dwarf page: possibly half-gnome.

Sources and Spoilers Bellow the cut

From the page about tallman in the adventurer's bible (p134)

From the page about dwarves in the adventurer's bible (p140)

From the page about Ogres in the adventurer's bible (p140)

Page about 'other characters' (p098)

Fionil Profile (p096)

Spoiler And ofc I did not forget Marcille! I just don't want to tag this as spoilers since that would be pretty much the only spoiler

[jajatoc]

See this lil' thingie on my neck? It's a Steppe talisman... against maras like you!

Day 12, Amulet

[squiddy-ink-s]

Dungeon Meshi OCs! More about em under the cut

[transformersbrainrot]

Oh look, it's that Orion/Optimus religious trauma post I was talking about the other day

DISCLAIMER: ALL THIS IS ABOUT THE CONTINUITY THAT EXISTS PURELY IN MY HEAD, BUT THERE AREN'T TOO MANY SWINGS BIG ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU LOST. HOPEFULLY, JUST GO WITH IT, AND YOU SHOULD BE FINE. ALSO, EVERYTHING WRITTEN HERE IS WRITTEN FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF OPTIMUS. IT'S NOT NECESSARILY AN ACCURATE REPRESENTATION OF REALITY.

So this is sort of a semi-sequel post to the MegOp No Children post I made a few days ago because, once again, an angst song that was popular in fandom spaces a few years ago is only reaching me and making me crazy now. I'm late to the Saint Bernard party, but whatever, here we go:

Orion Pax: the first worthy Matrix bearer since the Golden Age and newly christened Optimus Prime. Orion was never one to believe in the myths surrounding the Matrix. Sentinel Prime was basically a father to him, and in all their time together, the power that came from having that artifact was political. It was certainly a powerful symbol, but communing with past wielders? Empowering those who held it in their chest? Alpha Trion had always reminded Orion that there was always truth at the heart of legends, but surely the more fantastical parts of those stories weren't what he meant. Those were just hyperbole creeping in as Cybertron's past leaders faded into history and became mythologized. And yet here he was, practically twice his old height, recovering from wounds that should be fatal, and with all these new voices in his head.

Hung pictures of patron saints up on my wall To remind me that I am a fool Tell me where I came from, what I will always be: Just a spoiled little kid who went to Catholic school

When a worthy Cybertronian takes on the Matrix of Leadership, it creates a link to all the wisdom held within it: that of all previous Matrix Bearers and of The Thirteen. Usually, it's a blessing. It's supposed to be a blessing. Instant counsel with some of history's most outstanding leaders, warriors, and philosophers? Most people would kill for something like that, but for Optimus Prime, it was nothing but a constant reminder of what he isn't. He and his Autobots claim to fight for freedom and a better tomorrow but look who he was up against. An Iaconian elite, given all the opportunity and education anyone could ask for, against a miner-turned-gladiator who was never given anything? Wasn't this the same as it always was?

When I am dead, I won't join their ranks 'Cause they are both holy and free And I'm in Ohio, satanic and chained up And until the end, that's how it'll be

No matter how the Matrix judges him, Optimus can't bring himself to believe he is a pure and worthy spark. Those who now reside in the Matrix are written about in history books because their thoughts and actions made Cybertron better than it was without them. And what's Optimus brought upon Cybertron? An inescapable war that's tearing the people and the planet apart? There's no way history will remember Optimus Prime as anything but a warmonger.

I said "Make me love myself, so that I might love you" Don't make me a liar, 'cause I swear to God When I said it, I thought it was true

How is Optimus supposed to live up to the title that's been thrust upon him—that of a leader who loves and cares for his people when he doesn't even love and care for himself. Not after he was betrayed by his... By Megatron. And after he betrayed him back. It feels like an eternity ago, but somehow, when Sentinel had admitted that he hoped Orion would be the person to succeed him as Prime, and he accepted, Orion thought he would be ready when the time came. This is not what he thought it would feel like.

Saint Calvin told me not to worry about you But he's got his own things to deal with There's really just one thing that we have in common: Neither of us will be missed

When Orion and Megatronus first became close, Sentinel said that Orion was wasting his time. Sentinel never saw what Orion did in that gladiator, but look where that landed him. Now, he's dead at the hands of the very person he dismissed so long ago. The two new leaders of Cybertron are so very different. But, in the end, they're both spurring on this war, and they're both damned for it.

Saint Bernard sits at the top of the driveway You always said how you loved dogs I don't know if I count, but I'm trying my best When I'm howling and barking these songs

Even if Sentinel's spark doesn't reside within the Matrix, his memory sits at the front of Optimus's thoughts—almost as prominently as Megatronus. Sentinel's vision for Orion was of someone who upheld the same system he did. Optimus certainly isn't doing that. But, despite how dark the depths of Sentinel's worldview turned out to be, Optimus is not a new person. Deep down, he's still Orion Pax, and he can't bring himself to hate the Prime who did so much to create the man he is today. Maybe somewhere, the part of Sentinel Orion thought he knew was real. Maybe that part of him, however small, can understand the kind of world Optimus Prime is trying to create...

[yuri-puppies]

i really admire people who aren't afraid to be direct even when it comes across as harsh, i have such a case of "disclaiming all possible bad faith interpretations of my argument in advance" disease (i do manage to edit them out more often than not tho)

[mwolf0epsilon]

So there's this game called Lethal Company...

Been playing a lot of LC with a couple of discord server pals and predictably this generated two OCs.

Remember my first Blender sculpt? Yeah, with a lot of help from @egg-exe it became a custom cosmetic for our group's collective modpack, and it is the main gimmick of my Employee character. The story behind it is that The Company decided to use alien creatures to scout hostile moons and planets via mind-melding with "volunteers". Basically an organic ROVER program of sorts. The experiments didn't yield very positive results, with Frogsilon being the worst possible outcome (the Frog was not an animal, rather, a sentient species of alien who completely took over the subject).

Leon, on the other hand, is part of an offshoot project (same sort of base concept, different end result sorta scenario) where eyeless dogs were captured and slowly domesticated via a lot of selective breeding. Their purpose is to collect bodies from failed full wipe-out missions where no one survives. Because obviously The Company doesn't believe in wasted resources and would use the bodies of the Employees for whatever purpose they deem fit.

That's enough exposition for now. Enjoy these character concepts and fun doodles (Buddy the Masked and its Crew belong to @pangolin-404, check out their fics about this oddball group! They're fantastic!)

[agnesandhilda]

shounen characters love having the dumbest arguments over morality ever written

[bellbones1207]

Doodle of Kabru, my beloved <3

[vipermenace]

I had another Dungeon Meshi style dream but this one involved Quickscope!! She was a half-elf/half-dwarf and her cybernetic arms and legs were now metal gauntlets and grieves. She was hunting the mage that cursed her body.

Scope ran into a small adventuring group that had a kobold, half-foot, and tallman. She argued a lot with the half-foot a bit but near the end when she left the group, the camera quickly cut to Quickscope working on a hard mechanism to trip every trap. She jumped from ledge to ledge, showing off her dexterity as she dodged each spike popping out. Scope did this purely to make the item the party was searching for easier to obtain. She was worried it would kill them, so she helped out in her own way because she didn't want them to die lmao

[creativesplat]

Fell Xenologue Alfred.

[mumblingsage]

My friend and I were talking about something the other day and that factoid came up where surgeons are measurably less empathic than other specialties. Which could be for a number of reasons but one that makes sense to me is, yeah, it's beneficial that the person cutting through my tissues with a scalpel is emotionally divorced from the process! I don't want someone to have overwhelming feelings about my situation when they are doing delicate, complicated work to save my life!

(An similar example I didn't bring up to my friend is how people in search and rescue and recovery make extremely sick jokes, again as a technique to keep from being emotionally involved. Because they have a job to do and getting overwhelmed with feelings serves no one.)

This is a parable, probably.

[thereallycoolmonsterithoughtup]

i feel like if surja and kabru met while The Island Dungeon™ still existed surja would kneel down on both knees n try to scam/steal from kabru but also worship him like a god and he would be like "haha thanks but youre kind of weird and i see right through your act. " and then kabru beheads him and his head rolls lmaooo

HELPPPP his negative rizz has devastating consequences

[vampiricgf]

also cutie pie re2 leon loves goth girls he told me himself. while my fangs were in his neck btw