#stupid bastard plague doctor

[dreamperson-poll]

Stupid Bastard Plague Doctor

dreamed by @the-oooze-creature

a plague doctor with some wood carving tools who sTOLE MY HOUSE!

they walked into my house, said "this one is mine," and threw me out. I had to live in the mines.

[myths-of-fantasy]

Year of the Rabbit - Ch7 Jura Forest Alliance

When a woman dies and becomes a warrior bunny, only shenanigans can ensue. Or, that time Rimaru got a rabbit bodyguard that immediately declared war on a demon lord.

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All things considered, that Gabil had managed to hold his own surprisingly well, Rimuru noted from the sky watching as Gobta jumped in, preventing the lizardman from being killed on the spot. The lizardman was as crafty and clever as he was boastful and stupid. And brave he supposes, he did defend the goblins rather than leaving them to die. Admittedly, he’d kind of assumed the cocky bastard was all talk and no action - especially after he’d gotten defeated by Gobta. Watching this though… was Gobta actually just powerful? 

Gabil had dodged the snapping tendrils extending from the orc’s shoulders with strain but he’d done it, despite the strength Rimuru could feel radiating from the general. And still, Gobta had taken him down with one kick to the head.

Does this mean Gobta has talent?  he blinked in confusion. Ugh, the idea rattled him. Best not to think about it too hard.

Especially with Ranga evolving to a Tempest Star Wolf and promptly demonstrating his new unique skill.

“[Great Sage] what is this?!” he shrieked, dodging quickly from the path of the series of massive twisters that descended from the sky, crackling with electricity and began frying and ripping the orcs below to shreds.

[Answer: this is the unique skill [Death Storm] of the individual Ranga.]

Death storm is right, holy crap!

Was he able to use that ability too given he’d [Mimicked] the dire wolf and had actually taken the form of the Tempest Star Wolf first? It was something to test - far, far away from his little village.

Where is he, he slime thought furiously, scanning the hoard of orcs. The reason he hadn’t joined in yet (beyond fulfilling his side of the oath taken between himself and the kijin), was that he only intended to fight the orc lord, as he promised Treyni. And yet, for such a powerful and unique monster, he’d yet to catch sight of the threat to their livelihoods. 

The number of orcs was shrinking rapidly under the liberal fire and violence exhibited by the kijin, at least simplifying the numbers he had to pick through. 

<Rimuru, I found him.>

Hm? 

He was interrupted before he could ask with an explosion away from where the kijin were wreaking havoc erupted making him whip around. It only took him a few seconds to be hovering over the place he’d left Ranga and the lizardmen again, bringing him the slight of an odd majin in a long, flowing coat wearing a plague-doctor mask standing with visible frustration just a little ways away front the startled defenders, Black Bunny standing in-between them wild Wildfire raised defensively.

The rabbit lowered the sword with narrowed eyes.

“I was wondering when you’d come out,” Black Bunny said, her tone completely void of emotion. She was pure business mode from what he could tell, watching Wildfire’s blade light up a blazing orange of menace. She adjusted her grip, pointing the glinting tip in the majin’s direction, “Spying from the bushes… that’s no way for a majin to behave, hm?”

The majin stamped his foot like a petulant child, “Who the hell do you think you are?! Ruining my plans?!”

“Your plans,” she scoffed, not lowering her weapon.

“That- That majin… that's Lord Gelmond,” Gabil said, visibly perking up with relief at the sight of the demon who named him. He started to move towards him and Rimuru abruptly felt really bad for him - he was an idiot sure, but being someone's Namer was a great honor. That was going to be a rough betrayal to recover from.

He stumbled to a stop just as quickly as he’d started moving, the flaming blade of Wildfire held out as a physical barrier.

“That demon is not your ally Ser Envoy,” and Rimuru was surprised by how gentle her voice was. She didn't turn her head to look at him, still fixated on her energy just in case he tried a sneak attack but the rabbit was still trying to break it to him gently. “I haven't fully unraveled his plan, but I know enough to be aware he did not grant you your name in good faith. “

“I- wha,” Gabil blinked. 

The masked individual turned angrily, waving his hand at the massive hulking figure that Black Bunny had likely been calling him to come address. Towering over all of the other orcs with arms as thick and burly as their heads, a large and ornate helmet with a massive jewel directly in the center of it  matching the thick armor covering his upper body.

The Orc Lord.

“A demon lord who would’ve done my bidding was just about to be born an now you’ve ruined everything! I’m not supposed to interfere but the at this rate, he’ll be furious with me!”

A demon lord. That title was being used more and more often lately. 

“Ah, so that was your plan then,” Black Bunny deciphered immediately. When he’d sat down and talked to her once, she had explained that she’d been in this world for a full two-years before they’d even caught word that Rimuru existed. [Great Sage] had immediately puzzled out for them that Black Bunny had thus, been reincarnated three years before Rimuru had died. And it was in that time that she had amassed a lot of knowledge about this world  (Central, he remembers she’d called it), enough knowledge to successfully fool him and anyone else not looking too hard into thinking she was native. And that thirst for knowledge and determination to understand was benefitting him more and more every day. “Go around granting a few monsters names, then letting your orc lord devour them to gain their strength. I suspect you even named this orc lord to give you even further influence over him - you’re sick.”

“What?!” Gabil said, shocked as his own warriors mumbled their dissent and disbelief as the revelation. He moved around Black Bunny’s sword and tried to walk towards the demon lord again, “But- But Lord Gelmond, it was you who granted me my name - aren’t you here to save-”

He was interrupted by the enraged, petty majin launching a powerful circle of flame towards them. 

“Lord Gabil!”

“We’ll protect you!”

“Shit!”

Black Bunny sprung forward. Immediately becoming airborne in the face of the the attack. Wildfire blazed to uproarious life in her paws, a powerful aggressive gale kicking up around her blade.

“[Flame Drill]!” she roared, the tip of her sword piercing the attack and sending up a massive cloud of smoke.

“You little rat! Such a lowly and pathetic monster like yourself daring to stand against me?!” Gelmund raged, giving another immature stomp of his foot as he raised his palm again, this time forming a truly massive ball of malicious energy towards the sky. “I will show you to true power of a greater majin! I will wipe you from this blasted land! [Death-March Dance!]”

<Rimuru- >

<On it!>

He’d gotten so wrapped up in watching the stand-off between the two he’d almost forgotten. He flashed down as quickly as he could, sticking out his hand as he watched the purple lights become a ring of red in the sky, shooting towards the ground with all the menace of blazing storm and activated [Predator]. It only took a minute to devour, he supposed in retrospect it wasn’t all that great.

[Notice: You have acquired the skill Death-March Dance]

Thanks [Great Sage].

“...that was superior?” he said aloud instead, lowering his hand. He put on his most unimpressed expression as he re-absorbed his wings, no longer needing them in this moment. He crossed his arms as Black Bunny sprung up to perch on his shoulder again, like she’d done when they faced off against the ogres. “You can’t kill anyone with that weak sauce move. I was more afraid of Black Bunny using [Firestorm].”

“I-Impossible,” Gelmund said, stepping away.

“That was an accident,” she said, visibly embarrassed. “I didn’t think it would do all that.”

“I was scared for my life,” Gobta laughed.

<For a brief moment, I thought you had gone rouge and intended to kill us all,> Ranga joined in with the teasing.

“It was an accident!” she shrieked again, drawing a paw across her face.

“We know Black Bunny,” Rimuru soothed, patting her head lightly. She would’ve told him if she was actually upset by their remarks, so he figured she was playing along with his idea. It was nice to have someone who caught on so quickly, he mused as he side-eyed Gelmund. “It’s just that your little ‘accident’ was ten-times more intimidating than this supposed ‘greater demon.’”

“You- you stepped in for us?” Gabil said, eyes watery with shock and gratitude.

“You’re not a bad guy, Envoy Gabil,” Black Bunny said kindly. She turned her head to glare at the majin who’d been behind it all apparently, “And no one deserves to be yanked around on puppet-strings like that.”

“Speaking of,” Rimuru hummed as Gelmund launched another attack (this time, directly towards the ground creating a massive wave of smoke) as he tried to escape their wrath. He extended his palm boredly as he watched the fleeing majin, promptly activating [Sticky String] forming a thick, binding cocoon of silk that tied him to the ground. “You didn’t think we’d let you get away that easily did you?”

The majin immediately began trying to struggle free, shouting curses and insults all the while. The moment he was restrained, the kijin seemed to materialize around them, glowering furiously down at the one who had ordered the destruction of their village. “You mentioned a ‘him’ earlier. Who is him? Who is the real mind behind all of this?”

“Save me orc lord!” he practically wailed instead of answering the question, the massive demon staring down at him. “Repay your debt to me, the one who fed you, the one who named you, Geld!”

The beast shifted, raising his head slowly.

It’s responding now, Rimuru thought. He was curious - the orc lord radiated a pretty intense amount of strength, even compared to his own comrades. He was fairly sure that altogether, the kijins could defeat him but it would be a much harder fought battle than anything they’d ever experienced yet. That said… it didn’t seem very bright. In Gelmund’s fits of anger and temper tantrums, he had thrown many insults on the monster’s intelligent and self-awareness - none of which the orc seemingly understood. 

[Confirmed: As the Orc Lord continue to gain different powers and abilities, his consciousness has been slowly corroding.]

Ah. Well that was tragic - if that was true, that meant Gelmund had been manipulating him the way he’d been puppeteering everyone else involved. And sadly, they would still have to kill him. He couldn’t just let him continue on with devouring the entire forest and everyone who crossed his path after all.

“...demon lord,” the orc lord voiced finally, his words slow and sluggish as if he was struggling to string them together. “Who…”

“Ugh! It’s you, you stupid tub of lard!” Gelmund snapped. “Come forth and protect your master who gave you a chance!”

Woah. 

Rimuru went stiff as an utterly threatening aura seemed to engulf the battlefield, pure rage and killing intent trying to strangle him. It felt like a more powerful version of Ranga’s [Coerison], the lizardmen and goblins surrounded by them dropping frightfully to their knees. He turned his head in disbelief to the furious form of Black Bunny, eyes narrowed and her lips peeled back away from her teeth as her tiny claws sank into the fabric of his clothes.

He jumped again, looking up as the orc lord - or rather, Geld - started shuffling forward with a dangerous sway. Gelmund laughed manically as he moved forth with his raised butcher-knife as a weapon, resting the blade in his hand.

“Oh look, the mountain of lard has decided to move,” he cackled, twisting to look at Rimuru and the rest of them. “Oh you’re in for it now… you’ll regret messing with me! Get them Geld, make them rue the day they dared to interfere with my-”

Rimuru jumped as Geld cut him off with one deft swing of his weapon, the majin’s head sliced clean from his shoulders. It landed on the ground with a wet sound, leaking blood as it rolled.

[It appears that Gelmund life signatures have stopped.]

Yeah, I can see that.

Geld moved forward in complete silence, dropping to his knees and began to loudly crunch and devour the carcass.

“Back up!” Black Bunny yelled at the kijin suddenly. “Back up! Back up! Back up-!”

As her fourth warning left her mouth, a deep menacingly dark purple energy seemed to seep right from Geld’s skin, seeming to wrap around him in a more sinister version of the evolutions he’d seen of his underlings.

[Confirmed: The orc lord Geld’s magicules have drastically increased, evolution to demon lord has commenced.]

The kijin seemed suddenly more willing to take Black Bunny’s warning seriously, quickly behind them as a destructive wind of powerful began whirling furiously around Geld’s body. Just as they cleared his range, the power exploded off of him with his menacing roar of announcement. 

Affirmed - Individual Geld is now commencing evolution into demon lord, The Orc Disaster

“Oh that’s not good,” Black  Bunny murmured with apprehension, the others present on the field all beginning to inch nervously away from the being and the ominous smoke that was steadily leaking from his body.

[Great Sage] that wasn’t you, was it?”

Affirmed - that was [The Voice of the World]. 

“Rimuru!” Black Bunny cried out, dragging him back into aware at the same time that [Great Sage] proceeded to ring a warning through his mind.”Watch out for the smoke!”

“Huh?” he blinked as he reflexively leaped up, watching as everyone else thankfully followed Black Bunny’s directive without him having to warn them again. He stared in muted horror as it wafted over the various bodies still strewn untouched on battlefield, eating away at them like some kind of flesh-eating parasite. It only took a few seconds each for the smoke to devour them. “So this is his new ability… applying [Corrosion] to anything it touches…”

“Without a powerful resistance, he will continue to devour you,” Black Bunny agreed seriously, looking up at the looming enemy before them. 

“Our king,” said one of the larger orcs beside the orc lord, dropping down to a knee in fealty. “And father. Hail Demon Lord, Geld.”

“Our Lord Geld,” the orcs intoned reverently, each dropping to kneel in turn. 

So this… is a demon lord. I can’t believe Gelmund called himself one, the power difference is insane!

“Shion!” 

“Right!”

“Huh?” said Rimuru, watching the kijin take off with her sword.

Benimaru placed a hand on his shoulder with a slight incline of his head, “My lord, let us take care of this filthy swine for you.”

“...please lay off on those remarks.”

They each turned their attention to Black Bunny who watched Shion unwaveringly, her paw still gripped tightly around Wildfire’s hilt, “Filthy swine, tub of lard, dirty pig - stop it. Take revenge for your people all you like, but stop belittling them like that.”

“My Lady…” Benimaru trailed off, seeming uncomfortable. 

She peered at the red-kijin from the corner of her dark eyes, a frown fixed on her adorable face, “I let it go before because your people had been slaughtered, I can excuse venting your grief.”

She throws her paw out to the still kneeling orcs, “But all you and anyone else has ever done is talk down to them, insult them - for being orcs. Should I have called you all foolish brutes for just being ogres? They aren’t stupid. This display of loyalty… this is beyond a majin taking advantage of their leader. There is something pushing them onwards - and they will keep marching until we find out what it is.”

Rimuru allowed the silence that followed her words as Shion was furiously repelled, her attacks taken up instead by Hakugou making an attempt to completely sheer his head from his shoulders once more. The orc lord revealed a pretty horrifically intense healing ability though, thick lime green chords of energy reaching out and beginning to reseal his head upon his shoulder. At his declaration that he was still starving, one of the orcs immediately and willing knelt before him, offering up his body and life to serve his king.

She’s right, Rimuru thought to himself grimly watching as Ranga stepped up, howling as he released lightning down upon the orc lord in vain, as the being merely shook it off with a determined roar only matched by his followers. These orcs… whatever their reason for wanting to devour the Jura Forest, they all believed in it as deeply and truly as their leader. 

“Ranga… rest in my shadow,” Rimuru commanded gently. 

<I’m sorry,> the wolf murmured.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” the slime reassured, turning his attention to the beast before them. 

“It’s my turn,” Black Bunny voiced, hopping down to stand beside him.

“Wait-”

“We can do this together,” she told him firmly even as a gentle golden glow illuminated around her fur. 

[Great Sage]-

[Acknowledgment - the individual Black Bunny appears to be powered up by a skill acting upon her oath to save the lizardmen.]

So that’s why she glowed but didn’t evolve, he realized watching the tiny rabbit go sprinting towards the behemoth like she was David. 

She sprung up electricity crackling across her little body as she raised Wildfire.

“[Thunderbolt]!” she bellowed, impaling the creature’s head with her sword, and a massive column of blue electricity rivaling (or even, beating out) Ranga’s snapped through the air harshly enough that he felt his hair raise from the latent static crackling through the air between them.

The orc lord released a startled cry as it went crashing to the ground as if it had been sucker punched by a giant right in the solar plexus.

“My Lord!” the orcs cried out in despair.

What was…

“That was Black Bunny?” Gobta blurted out, sounding utterly stunned. “But-but-”

“I know…” Rimuru agreed faintly, taking a half-step back as he watched the tiny black figure fall towards the ground. She landed on her paws, doing an additional backflip to expend the inertia of her contact but seemed otherwise unphased.

“...I am so glad Shuna stopped me from making such a big mistake those weeks ago,” Benimaru mumbled to himself, now aware of just how close he’d come to being murdered.

Has she always been this powerful? Rimuru blinked in amazement. How was she hiding her aura so well though? Without a mask like Shizue's… wait a minute, [Plush]! Her unique skill.

<We have a problem,> Black Bunny’s thought communication echoed through his head while he reeled from the revelation of the moment. <He’s got [Flame Resistance] and some form of [Electricity Resistance] I think.>

Rimuru shook his head, pushing aside his disbelief and panic - this wasn’t the time to be so distressed by that. It was time to gt his head in the game.

<I’m coming in.>

Alright [Great Sage], let’s see what you can do!

| | | |

The aftermath of the ‘war’ with the orcs was almost more difficult than the actual battle itself.

It took him a brief moment after everything to well and truly grasp what he’d seen of Geld’s memories… Black Bunny had been right again. There had been more than it seemed to the orc’s march on the Jura Forest. An entire species starving to death, infants dying mere days after birth because their mothers were so hungry they couldn’t produce any milk for them. An entire species, forced to resort to cannibalism, the young eating the old just so they’d have enough to grow stronger, to reach a state of maturity. An entire species on the cusp of being wiped out and yet, not a whisper on the wind of it.

He wanted to really sit down with his head in his hands to think it through, to really consider that the orc people as whole could’ve vanished from the world and no one would’ve known. And many wouldn’t have even cared. 

“Filthy swine, tub of lard, dirty pig - stop it. Take revenge for your people all you like, but stop belittling them like that.”

I want to build a land of peace, where everyone can get along. I’ll pay more attention to how everyone talks about some species… I’ll be more attentive.

The dryad, Treyni had appeared on the tail-end of the battle ready to organize the beginnings of the clean up. She called for a meeting of all the species there, requesting each of them choose representatives to attend for the discussion of the meeting. The lizardmen had elected their chieftain and his daughter, Benimaru and the oni he’d brought to the battle were the representatives of the kijin with a few of the miscellaneous goblins gathered by Gabil to stand in as the goblins’ representatives. Black Bunny had joined the meeting too, stating her presence as the voice of the Field Warren that held a vested interest in the Jura Forest alongside a few of the released Killer Rabbits that had begun to find their place within the village as hunters. 

Rimuru himself had gotten drafted into being the chairman of the meeting. 

From there, he’d been the one forced to start the meeting awkwardly but steadfastly revealing all that he had learned from Geld’s memories that led up to his awful luck in encountering Gelmund and the subsequent slaughter of the ogre village and his eventual attack on the lizardmen. 

“I… see…” the lizardman chief trailed off, seeming to the be considering his work. “A horrible famine slowly wiping out their people… and that manipulative Gelmund.”

“If  you want to make them pay for what they’ve done, you’ll have to find a way that doesn’t involve money,” Black Bunny pointed out. “Quite frankly, everyone around here has always treated orcs poorly. Even before the famine, they had no money - no one sells to orcs.”

Rimuru winced with the rest of the room, letting her words sink in for others as they had for him.

“Luckily we don’t have to use only monetary compensation,” he took over when everyone seemed suitably chastised even though she wasn’t scolding. He straightened up, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to look unflappable. “When I consumed the orc disaster, I agreed to take on his sins - and all the sins that his people bore in his name. So if you have any complaints, then I will hear them gladly.”

Survival of the Fittest rules this land and all of the monsters within it, regardless of if it was fair or kind to those who were weaker. From the moment any monster decides to fight, they accept that a potential outcome of that encounter is death. All of them. So…

“And if you wish to take your anger, I will be more than okay to fight you.”

As expected, the room remained quiet for a long moment as the demons looked among each other. 

“...Our pride as warriors is not more important than our survival,” the lizardman chief decided. “It was Lord Rimuru that won this war and so, we have no objections to your decisions.”

Phew!

Rimuru hadn’t been completely certain that move would work - he’d learned from his experience with the Dire Wolves to be a lot more careful with the phrasing of his words to avoid unintentionally giving them a ‘third choice.’ If the lizardman chief had been a more confrontational person, it would’ve gone much, much worse. He was sure he had the strength to defeat him if he needed to of course, but after everything… sue him for wanting a few days of peace.

“Forgive me Lord Rimuru, but I now have a question,” the lizardman chief continued, pulling his attention back. “If you do not intent to punish the orcs for their sins, do you then intend to welcome the survivors into the Jura Forest?”

“...” although the fighting had greatly decreased the number of orcs they were taking in, 15,000 was still a big number. Small in the scheme of talking about an entire species but for their little forest? He sighed - well, all that was left was a big gambit.

“Why don’t we form an alliance among all the species of the Jura Forest?” he suggested, causing soft murmuring from everyone in the meeting. “If we did that, I would like to spread the orcs out evenly among us.”

“I see,” Black Bunny said, immediately catching on again. “Payment in the form of manual labor. They can fix the places they destroyed and in return, they have food to eat and a place to live.”

“Yep,” Rimuru chirped. “We can leave the technical portion of the building to our various architects but the orcs could supply the manpower needed to make those architects’ plans into reality.”

He wished he could smile in this body, making due with offering a kindly voice to the orcs, “And any of the skills you pick up can be transferred over into building your own village together, rather than apart.”

“I think they could benefit from having perhaps a capital city,” Black Bunny tapped her chin thoughtfully, “I would like a bit of time to perhaps draw up some papers - a general guideline that everyone has to follow about working the orcs. Just because they’re paying back a species-wide debt doesn’t mean they should be treated poorly but otherwise, I - and thus the Field Warren bordering the Jura Forest - have no objections.”

“I’d like to build a country together, where all of us can live in peace and harmony.”

“And- and we could be a part of that?” the lead orc asked tentatively. 

“I’ll work you hard, there will be no slacking allowed,” Rimuru said sternly. “But if you do, there is no reason for you to be excluded.”

The orcs all fell to their knees, seemingly overcome with emotion.

“O-of course,” choked out the lead orc. “No objections.”

“No objections,” the lizardman chief voiced as well, dropping to take a knee before him. His people followed suit, bowing their heads to Rimuru. “We would be honored to cooperate in such an ambitious goal.”

Is this another monster custom I don’t know about, Rimuru wondered, promptly tugging on the Heartlink with Black Bunny for answers.

<A display of fealty. You’ve asserted yourself as the strongest and effectively declared you were taking command of the forest the way Lord Veldora did before you. They’ve all agreed to follow you.>

Oh.

He did his best to bow back in his gelatinous form as Shion placed him on the chairman’s bench, joining the rest of the kijin in bowing before him. The only monster who didn’t was Black Bunny, who merely stood up from her position to his right, drawing her arm across her chest and forming a fist with her mitted white paw - not an expression of deference, but certainly a declaration of loyalty all the same.

Good, I wouldn’t know how to handle Black Bunny bowing to me as well.

“Then it is decided,” Treyni - who had remained silent for the entire meeting - voiced finally. “As the manager and protector of this forest, I Treyni now hereby pledge to recognize the authority of one Rimuru Tempest as the new Lord and Master of the Great Jura Forest - and it is under his name that the Great Jura Alliance has been formed.”

Why does it sound so much more serious when she says it?!

“I- um. Please take good care of me I think,” he stammered out.

“Yes sir!” they all cried in agreement and that was how Rimuru took over and became the leader of the Great Jura Forest.

| | | |

From there, they took a break while Black Bunny produced paper from her inventory and began furiously scribbling terms and conditions for the employment of the orcs under the rule of the other species. She had begun teaching him the written language of Central used in their area but most of it was still completely incomprehensible to him - from Kaijin’s reaction though, the attention she had to detail would be enough to make a lawyer proud. Still kind and non-judgemental of his lack of literacy, she’d politely read her terms aloud to him and allowed [Great Sage] to process them. His skill hadn’t heard anything wrong with her terms and so, Rimuru gave her the greenlight to begin sharing the terms with the other representatives.

With the initial paperwork sorted, he moved onto the most daunting task: naming all 15,000 orcs.

You see, under the effects of [Starving One], the orcs had all gained a power boost that was sustaining them despite their severe malnourishment. With the death of the orc disaster, the effects were slowly but steadily wearing off. Although Black Bunny’s efforts to formulate a community farm were slowly starting to bear fruit, there still wasn’t enough to outright feed all 15,000 orcs and all of the usual forest inhabitants without devastating all of her efforts from over-consumption. And although Treyni and the dryads offered to assist with creating rations, the weakest of the bunch would likely die off almost immediately after the effects ended even with steady food (Black Bunny called it ‘refeeding syndrome.’)

The prevent them from dying off one by one while they’re waiting for food to come in, he would have to distribute his magical essence among them. And he didn’t know any other method to do that than naming them. 

Initially, he was just going to name them all basic number - ‘Mountain, 633M’ and ‘Field, 635F’ for example because there was just so many but Black Bunny had come for his throat when he proposed the plan. She scribbled up a list of names that she remembered had basic meanings like ‘first born,’ ‘twin’ or just talked about hair-color. She figured he could keep using the landscapes as something similar to clan names, ‘Mountain,’ ‘Westriver’ and ‘Field’ would be differentiating enough but he could just keep cycling through.

Lake Anane (fourth born) even taken to following her around after his initial naming, more than a little awed by the powerful bunny.

Rimuru took a bit of a breath and readied himself to name the last batch of orcs - 2,000 of them. Just as he was beginning to speak, the main orc - the one who had acted as the previous lord Geld’s retainer and watcher spoke up.

“My Lord, we have a request,” he began hesitantly, waiting until he received an approving nod before continuing. “We are the last members of the orc-race’s elites - we are warriors and defenders. I and the rest of us agree that we would like to devote our strength to serve you as we served our Lord Geld.”

<That’s a good offer,> Black Bunny communicated immediately. <We’re still getting trickle-in members from across the forest as our reputation expands. With the addition of the elite corps, we could better defend our territory and expand the city.>

“I accept your offer,” Rimuru voiced aloud in acknowledgement. He adjusted the direction of his names - rather than grant them a landmark if they were going to stay in their town, he hadn’t used any default colors yet. “Alright, let’s wrap this up - Yellow Kenzo. Yellow Kenji. Yellow-”

Two thousand felt lot a lot of people when you alone were responsible for naming each and every one of them, even with Black Bunny helpfully informing him when to tag ‘Jr’ or a minor sound modification to keep things straight. He dredged his way through the names, Black Bunny kindly offering him little bits of fruit from her hyperspace to help him push through before finally coming to the least of the orcs.

The aid, he mused. He was the most recurring face I saw from Geld’s memories - he even seemed to be considered a son to him. The power he radiates… it’s comparable to that of the orc lord.

“I would like you to inherit your former leader’s will,” Rimuru decided aloud. This high orc had kept the rest of his people together and alive while Geld ventured off in search of safe lands, cared for him as his mind degraded in his sacrifice to his people. Though he had defeated Geld and taken command of the orcs, they already had a perfect successor for leadership. “The great orc disaster who always thought of his people, even as he suffered, even as he died. His name was Geld and now, so is yours.”

The newly named Geld dropped to a knee, bowing low, “...I will accept that name with utmost gratitude and I will carry his will with honor.”

Phew! Rimuru thought, even as cries of shock erupted from the named orcs while Black Bunny scooped him up. Glad that’s over. Rest easy now Geld, your people are in good hands.

| | | |

As punishment for the coup he enacted and the unlawful imprisonment of his father and sister, Gabil had been exiled from the lizardman tribe and sent away, followed only by his three most loyal followers. When they were discussing where to go, during his break from naming orcs, Rimuru was surprised to watch Black Bunny approach him. She asked if he was alright and what his plans for the future were - when he admitted that he had none, she had promptly asked if he wouldn’t mind sticking around. 

Rimuru had been a little confused but didn’t object to her offer and so, the former envoy had taken the offer eagerly and then offered something he couldn’t possibly refuse.

“...would you mind if I got rid of that pesky reminder?” she asked.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Gabil inquired.

“That name Gelmund gave you,” she explained, making all of the lizardmen jolt with shock. “I can re-name you something else, remove those last ties you have to that manipulative bastard. Oh, and your friends too of course - loyalty like that should be rewarded.”

Huh, that was good information to know - he could overwrite an already named monster's Name to provide them additional power or strength. She had barely finished her sentence when Gabil was eagerly agreeing to her offer.

And so, Gabil became Gabiru.

“Your past still happened after all,” Black Bunny said. “And although you’ll be forging a new path forward, there’s much to be gained from observing your past.”

His friends had been unnamed, so Black Bunny chose a few names that she was more familiar with. In honor of his efforts to defend Gabiru, being the first to jump in front of him when he didn’t know that Black Bunny would step in, willing to sacrifice his life for him, one lizardman was named Alexander. The happiest and most carefree member of Gabiru’s group was subsequently named Acacius while the final, remaining member became Galen. He tuned out a little as he watched her run seemingly magnanimously through the large group of lizardman that had originally accompanied Gabiru - all with those distinct, more western sounding names.

He was less surprised than she was to see the gentle but sharp light of evolution coat the lizardmen, stretching them a bit taller and granting them deeper, richer-scale colors with Gabiru in particular turning a lustrous purple. Gabiru had been incredibly pleased to spread his newly acquired wings and even more delighted that he could blend them back into his back. With their names chosen, Black Bunny led the newly created ‘dragonewts’ to the Sealed Cave and had them begin harvesting the Hipokute grass to replenish their medicinal stores.

“I want to experiment with Hipokute extract for uses other than healing,” she informed the serious faced group. “The Sealed Cave is dark but the wind that cycles through is relatively warm so hopefully though it will be a bit of an adjustment, you can come to see it as another home. That place is Lord Rimuru and I’s training grounds so you’ll be granted plenty of opportunity to grow stronger.”

“Yes ma’am!” Gabiru had declared and marched off.

“Feel free to collect other plants as well!” Black Bunny called after them. “And make yourselves comfortable!”

On the other side of things, Gabiru's sister alongside a handful of lizardmen made clear their intentions to follow Souei after his display of flawless powerful when he rescued them. With the lizardman chief (now called 'Abil') granted a name, he had more than enough power and strength to rule over his people for much longer. Which of course, freed up a few elites to begin pursing their own dreams and ambitions.

Rimuru happily accepted their offer, assigning them beneath Sousei in the stealth and intelligence unit.

In the next three ensuing months, a tentative peace had been established in the town. With the help of the orcs (who evolved into outright high orcs upon being named), the dreams and ideals of Kaijin and the other dwarves unfolded rapidly. The people who had been on the verge of extinction from the famine had taken to their new duties furiously, learning steadily from their dwarven instructors. The newly appointed orc king, Geld even seemed to be overworking himself, often having to have Black Bunny step in and remind him of his contract and how ‘dead workers don’t build houses.’

Rimuru resolved to invite the man to a bar when it was constructed.

Black Bunny set herself back to training, having been granted a set of enchanted footwraps that increased her physical strength and healing factor on her legs. Witnessing her usage of [Lightning Foot] with her new equipment had been a bit terrifying, the tiny bunny successfully using it to kick down a massive tree - by kicking through it, like she was using an axe, not her toes. She was a lot more busy than she used to be though,  now managing her sect of dragonewts alongside the loosed killer rabbits that had requested that she open a courier’s post within their rapidly developing town.

 She dutifully ran around their city with a paper and a brush, taking inventory of their food stores, the money slowly accumulating from the monsters that elected to hand it over, building a census of everyone around. It made his head spin to see how easily she stepped into the role of a bureaucrat.

“My step-mother hated dealing with finances and the like back on Earth,” she’d explained when he asked, watching her manually bind and label the various sets of information. “I paid taxes, managed the household budget and did my best to wrap my head around investments until I moved out. I even took a few financial literacy and business management classes to help. I feel like I’m a kid again - and this time, you even thank me for my efforts.”

Sometimes, he gets the feeling that she is understating what her childhood had been like but even these little snippets painted a picture that made him uncomfortable asking directly. While that happened, the last of the goblin people had finally begun showing up in waves requesting names and insisting that they work there. It kept him busy while the finishing touches on the land came together.

Plumbing for every single house like back on Earth was just unwieldy and a bit implausible at the moment but he’d worked around it by having a series of public wells being established all around the city. The toilets had to be manually flushed but they worked all the same. He’d felt slightly awkward asking Black Bunny to do even more work, but she’d agreed easily enough to adding the formation of a city-map drawn up to her list of ‘things to do.’

“We were going to need an update map anyway if we’re going to be open to tourists,” she’d remarked casually. “I am going to see about finding a way to duplicate documents though… I don’t want to rewrite all of these documents again and again like before…”

He let that comment slide and moved swiftly on.

If I don’t think about it, it can’t hurt me.

He'd just begun to close his eyes and enjoy the peaceful energy in the air, a [Thought Communication] echoed loudly through his mind.

<Rimuru-sama, there's a severe emergency.>

<What is it Sousei?>

<A group of armed fliers numbered around 500 hundred have been spotted in the north sky. They're approaching us quickly.>

"Shion," he voiced aloud, drawing attention from the purple themed kijin. "Order Rigurd to begin the process of evacuation."

"Yes!"

He hurried off immediately, knowing the emotions of concern he was giving off would alert Black Bunny to begin tracking him down. He bounced as fast as his little slime body could manage, not wanting to take his human form and draw any additional attention from the army soaring above them. He was intercepted only mid-way to the location Souei projected into his head, Black Bunny wordlessly scooping him up into her paws and began bounding towards the location at his direction.

"There!" Rimuru called out, tilting his body to look up toward the sky. He was startled to see what appeared to be a fleet of winged horses, dressed and armored like they intended to enter directly into war. He wondered if those coverings had magic imbued within them as well.

Several more presences began to appear in the peripheral of his vision as the kijin all rapidly came running over to join him, all prepared to fight the army above. One presence, a non-combatant stood out to him though.

"Kaijin-san, what do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "You should be evacuating with the others!"

"I don't think he needs to Lord Rimuru," Black Bunny remarked, still watching the pegasus as they began descending towards them. "Master Kaijin may be the best dwarf for this conversation."

"Eh?"

"I heard from a general at a bar once about a special military division under direct command of the King," the dwarf said, straightening up almost completely. "The Pegasus Knights."

The muffled thump of cloven hooves landing on grassy meadow patches drew his attention to the foremost pegasus as the imposing aura of Hero King Gazel easily dismounted. Kaijin immediately dropped to a knee, bowing his head with a fist on the ground and Rimuru thinks he felt the harsh and heavy aura of the king lighten in their direction.

"It has been a while my king," Kaijin said.

"It has," responded the king. "You still kneel to me?"

"I do my king," Kajin responded swiftly. "My sentence was lenient and though I serve my Lord Rimuru now, I will not forget your kindness."

That is the loyalty of a true ruler, Rimuru noted. Now that he was wearily, the leader of the Jura Forest Alliance, he would have to keep the dwarf-king’s tactics in mind. Though Kaijin hadn’t done anything wrong in Rimuru’s eyes, the dwarven Lord had been capable of wrangling a way to give Kaijin a light-sentence despite the possible outrage of the other nobles. 

"It has been a while since I have seen you as well, slime."

"Oh," said Rimuru, a little surprised. "You remember me?

“I would never be foolish enough to forget such a powerful slime,” the king said. “That is why I am here - I came not as the king of Dwargon, but as an individual.”

Rimuru blinked - as an individual? A sense of wariness crossed him - why would the Hero King come to speak to him on a personal level? His eyes slid over to the kijin, watching them with wary expressions themselves. They were all tense, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation - that wasn’t good, he’d learned rather quickly that even a perceived insult to himself would send them into a furious rage. It was a good thing Gazel had phrased his remark in the way he did. Well, he supposed this wasn’t a trial so he couldn’t be penalized for speaking for himself instead of letting Black Bunny speak for him.

He wiggled in her arms, doing his best to convey the intent of wanting to be put down and was obligingly, allowed to spring from her arms. He quickly transformed, taking on his human form and touching his feet lightly to the ground. He allowed Shizue’s mask to hang lightly from his head, the strange magic that kept it attached in battle allowing it remain perched delicately in view.

“Then it would be only polite to speak to you in my new form,” he said, extending a hand to the king. “I am the new master of the Great Jura Forest and leader of the Great Jura Forest Alliance.”

One of the soldiers behind him went to grab his sword, only to be stopped by the Hero King accepting his hand and gave him a firm shake. Rimuru did his best not to wince - the combination of thick gauntlets with the Hero King’s large hand made for a slightly painful grip.

“If you have a human form, then words are unneeded,” the larger man noted, his gaze sharpening with something Rimuru couldn’t decipher. “One strike will be enough. You have taken good care of Kaijin and Black Bunny’s continued presence at your side is indicative of your integrity as a person. Draw your sword.”

“Huh?” Rimuru said, taking a slight step back in disbelief. The looming presence of the kijin increased dramatically, bearing down on them with a sense of weight upon their shoulders. 

Black Bunny for her part was the only one who didn’t seem shocked or even offended. Much to Rimuru’s surprise, she gave a little giggle and shook her head with amusement, “Swordsmen. Can you at least move this outside of the village? Master Kaijin and the others might react badly if he ruined the buildings again.”

Before Rimuru could fully process what was happening here, the wind and grass stirred at the ground before them. A moment later, Treyni appeared in front of them, a look of slight annoyance clear in her features. 

“I will not tolerate any arrogance towards our master of the forest,” she said seriously.

“Treyni-san,” he greeted brightly, ignoring the surprised murmuring of Gazel’s calvary. The dryad offered a kindly smile towards him - no one had seen her since the meeting when the Jura Forest Alliance had been formed. Even the deliveries of food to supplement them had arrived with the assistance of the dryad’s creatures, ferrying them into the village for storage purposes. It was nice to see her again and confirm that she was well.

“Ahahah!” Rimuru jumped in surprise from the surprisingly hearty laughter from Gazel, shaking his head in satisfaction before lowing his gloved hand. “If the manager of the forest says so, then I must apologize for any rudeness I’ve conveyed. However, I’d still like to confirm for myself - draw your sword.”

“If you continue to spout insults-” Treyni began bristling.

“Hey!” Black Bunny interjected sharply, her tone a lot harsher than he was used to. Her dark eyes were narrowed at the manager of the forest as she bounded in between Treyni and Gazel. “He has every right to test Lord Rimuru, who is founding a city right next door to him. It is what any good king would do.”

“Thank you for your word of confidence Black Bunny,” Gazel noted, tilting his head to her lightly.

"You are a good man, Hero-King Gazel and I pride myself on maintaining an honorable stance and avoiding hypocrisy," she levies the kijin and Treyni with a sharp look that made Rimuru feel like she was two seconds from sending them to stand in the corner. "I will not allow my comrades to compromise those morals for something as silly and small as personal pride and ego."

"...I apologize for my own rudeness," Treyni said, the dryad appearing suitably chastised.

"You all need to get better at handling diverse personalities and cultures," The rabbit scolded. "You could've provoked a feeling of genuine distaste from the Hero-King with your behavior that seems to insist that a lack of deference to Rimuru is a form of disrespect."

He wonders if her decision to use his name, rather than the title she called him aloud was intentional on her behalf.

He cleared his throat, relieved for a brief moment that she couldn’t read minds and quickly drew his own sword. Best to take any possible negative energy away from himself and Gazel.

“I accept your offer of a spar,” Rimuru said, relaxing a little bit when the king didn’t deny his declaration that this would be a spar. That… that made him feel a lot better about all of this. Despite how highly the kijin and the goblins thought of him, he wasn’t overconfident. He remembered the presence Gazel had back in Dwargon (some of it even lingered with him now) and he knew, as he was now, he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of defeating him in a true fight.

But a spar?

A spar he could handle. 

“Very well then,” Treyni coughed, drawing the attention back to herself once more. “Then I will serve as the judge.”

Though Gazel didn’t smirk or even grin, Rimuru could practically feel his satisfaction with the situation.

“Begin!”

[sillyandquiteawkward]

Idk if this is something you did intentionally, but the fact both Ignatius and Octavia wear dark colors while Bailey wears lighter has plagued my mind since I saw this one image https://www.tumblr.com/sillyandquiteawkward/720332520178237440/legacy?source=share

And now i mentally have this really. Stupid headcanon to be honest. But basically- Octavia wears dark colors both on the outer and inner layers of her clothes, so that shows she's not ashamed of her nature and proudly wears it on her sleeve (what nature you ask? Man idk im just delivering the messages god sends me) ; Meanwhile Bailey wears Light on the exterior and Dark on the interior, showing that although he may present himself as well meaning, he's still kind of a bitch about it. And Iggy does the opposite- Dark on the outside, Light on the inside. Sure he may look smug and even be a little bit of a bastard but its all a façade he puts up, something superficial that doesn't actually reflect on who he really is

Or maybe I smoked a liiiittle too much weed that day and seeing colors made my Artist Brain insane. Probably this

OUHG YOUR BRAIN. (reposting linked image for reference)

i do specifically remember as i was drawing this image being like yes. bayley is wearing a white jacket and its so Different than the others. i feel like i did also have the thought pass me of the same thing, bc i did make the deliberate choice to color oct's shirt in, rather than leave it "white" like iggys shirt. i also wanted bayley to be the only one really looking into the camera but thats another topic hehe.

i think i often find myself switching around the color of octs shirt, is it white, is it blue, is it purple, is it like a yellow. maybe we can also still extend this to oct, that she finds herself torn of what her inner colors really are, but that dark exterior shell of hers remains the same.

i think its funny, bayleys always been someone to me very concerned about his appeal to others, specifically why he most often sports his lab coat. screaming to other people look at me and trust me bc i am a doctor ! and iggy covers himself up as much as he physically can as if to disappear behind them. the man is wearing two extra layers, he wears his bangs in his face (tho we arent talking about hair here)

clothes are a very fun way to see into people and [shaking you] i think ill incorporate this all into my work more deliberately now.

[inky-evergreen]

Hey, would you mind drawing one of my dream boys for the upcoming dreamperson tournament? I'll list all of 'em for ya'.

The Giga-Lich: giant vaguely mesopotamian skeleton ridding a palanquin carried by zombies with coral bursting out from them. has a cool flamberge dagger.

Stupid Bastard Plague Doctor: just a plague doctor with carving tools, easy but kinda lame

The Devil: wispy thing like the Snatcher from AHIT but with tentacles, a face covered by a eerie simple percaline mask, and coming out of a infinitely deep puddle.

The Greater Nodachi: colossal sea monster, didn't get to see all of it. it's front half, at least, looked like a cycloptic snake-necked turtle but all decayed and gangrenous.

The Wild Hogs: hording swarmers. they have purple skin, long lanky limbs ending in scything claws, their “faces” having like six eyes, their backs coating in quills, and were frail enough to die to tripping over a rock. They appeared in such numbers you couldn’t see the ground under them. Some of them were sluglike beasts the size of a house that were much, much more durable

The D O L L: think one of the bendy dolls from bendy but with a more bland round head with a OwO face.

I'm ok if you decline to draw any of 'em, It'd just be nice.

I really would but I don't think I can

[fuzzy-oooze]

DREAM TEAM PROPAGANDA

"The Lich Commands Thee To KNEEL!"

"The Devil Glares With Unfathomably Sinister Intent And Cackles With Cosmic Evil!"

"Stupid Bastard Plague Doctor STEALS YOUR HOUSE!"”

“The Nodachi Swallows You Whole!”

“The Wild Hogs Erase Your World!”

“The D O L L Gives You A Terrible Curse!”

[cleaner-in-grey]

The cleaner felt it was rather unfortunate that it had come to this, but yet, here he was in a black uniform with a full face respirator/gas mask shaped like a plague doctor's to hide his identity while also keeping him safe from possible airborne particulates. He set up his rifle to take someone out. He damn well made sure to put the silencer on his rifle to dampen the noise of his shot somewhat.

The poor bastard marked for death was a rather green BLU Spy who had gone against contract by almost leaking information...though the Spy hadn't read those documents...if he had he would have seen they were bullshit documents they often stuffed into the briefcases to make them seem important. Those briefcases very rarely held any actual information.

He knew who was replacing this man too, he'd glanced through the paperwork since he was one of the last few to look through things before it was sent to administration due to his position and level of experience. The replacement was...an enigma with no record, no documents...it was odd, and he made note of his suspicions.

When he saw the Spy, he let out a soft sigh, expression hardening as he aimed for the head. He had to be efficient and quick.

So, he took the shot.

And it was quick.

Then he put his rifle away and descended upon the scene with a body bag to remove the body. He kept his revolver ready though in case the Spy happened to not really be dead. They certainly wouldn't be able to respawn due to being taken out of the system.

He heard footsteps and the all too familiar sound of a decloaking Spy, so, he pulled his revolver out as he turned to shoot. The son of a bitch he'd shot had a Dead Ringer on him, but...now he was dead for sure.

"[You could have made this easier by actually dying the first time, Mr. Spy...Why didn't you swallow your pride and try to run to live another day? Staying to try to fight was very very very stupid],"he sighed in German, tutting while unzipping the body bag. He checked the Spy's teeth and his face before he would load him inside to make sure it was the right target. When he confirmed the identity, he nodded and started to load him in.

"[Rest in pieces, Marceau Louis Rochefort],"he spoke in French that had a thick Parisian accent, the particular Spy's native language as he got him inside, zipping the bag closed. Yes, he knew this Spy's full name, his real full name.

[the-breloominati]

the one thing I just.. do not like about myself rn is my face :/

like "oh god is that what other people see >.< egh"

[an-angel-in-the-garden]

Grimmjow Dating Headcanons

Not a request but today is Birdie's birthday so I wanted to make her a little something for one of her favorite characters. Please enjoy @bird-brained-plague-doctor

First off, to be with Grimmjow you have to be able to stand up for yourself at least a little. He wouldn't mind a docile partner but you need to be able to call him out when he does something stupid

He loves to show off in anyway he can and a little praise can go a long way when it comes to his ego 

Will hunt things for you to show he's strong but also because he thinks the masks of hollows make good gifts 

If you're having a bad day and need comfort Grimmjow isn't really the best but he tries, physical comfort is something he can handle but words are not his strong point 

When in his release form he lets you squish his toe beans if you really want and pet his ears. You are the only one allowed to do this

Gets jealous but not in a toxic way most of the time. It really only happens when you praise the strength of another person especially if it's Ichigo 

Grimmjow is both really good and really bad with PDA

He loves getting you to cling to him around others or to share kisses with you no matter the place but at the same time he gets flustered when it comes to any affection 

Dates, unless you plan them, tend to be napping together in warm spots or snuggled as close as possible in the colder months 

They can also be training dates if you're someone who fights or wants to learn 

After more or less coming back from the dead he goes straight to you, making sure you're safe and that you still want him around

You are a safe space for him to just exist, you're someone who makes him feel like he doesn't need to prove a point all the time 

Grimmjow plans to be a king and he wants you to rule next to him when it finally happens and even though he can be a bastard Grimmjow will do anything he can to keep you with him his love after all is just a little extreme

Well thank you for reading! I hope you liked this Birdie and that your birthday is fun~ Lilly

[imperatorium]

is there any chance you might talk a bit about the beauty and the beast au? please please please

Oh, anon, bless you, I would love to.

To on purpose poorly summarize, it’s a heterosexual supernatural romance between two elderly people and every time I remind myself of that, I’m like what the fuck am I writing, but then I realize every single Ghost story I write, no matter what the focus, is...at the end of the day exactly that.

Not that Sister & Nihil are straight. But that’s besides the point.

Anyway!

Sister Imperator is a witch, a necessary evil to the poor, provincial town she’s lived near for the last couple decades. She and her bastard son, Copia, live on the border of the quiet village (every day like the one before, etc.) and a deep forest known as the Devil’s Woods, rumoured to be filled to the brim with the demons the little people of the town associate her with. It’s been this way for as long as she can remember.

But the town attitude towards her and Copia begins to sour, so she sends him to scout out a new residence and the poor, precious little idiot decides he should take an ill-advised shortcut through the woods because if he and his mother say their nightly prayers to the demons allegedly within, he’s got nothing to fear, right?

Of course, he gets lost. Of course he comes across a castle - well, more like a cathedral - in the middle of the forest. And of course, he makes friends with a small swarm of rats who try to make him comfortable, even though he shouldn’t be there - which, naturally, incurs the wrath of castle’s master, a great Beast who must surely be the Devil himself, and provokes the malicious curiosity of the three lesser demon-beasts who call the great one “Papa”.

Smashcut to Sister Imperator waking from a nightmare about Copia’s entanglement with these Hell creatures and angrily setting off on an adventure because a) her precious baby boy is so stupid but b) what the fuck is this dark fucking magic in the center of the woods.

After a series of surprises (sentient rats, Copia is now somehow also a little beast??, oh shit shit shit is The Beast hot???), she successfully bargains for Copia’s freedom (and humanity, but that seems to just be a side effect leveled on him) with her own and inadvertently sets herself on a journey to discover that there really is a place for her in the world she never felt like she belonged in - it just happens to be a cursed Satanic church in the heart of a haunted forest.

Despite knowing she should be planning her own escape, she is overwhelmed by curiosity. How did she not know about this place? What about these unhallowed grounds enhances her magic so? Where has she heard the name “Emeritus” before? Who is the man with the mismatched eyes in the torn portrait, barely hanging on the wall of the forbidden West Wing? What is the significance of the glowing sigil (an upside down cross over an open circle) in the glass bell jar in that same forbidden room? WHY ARE THESE INSUFFERABLE SMALLER BEASTS FOLLOWING HER AROUND EVERYWHERE AND DOING LONG SNIFF EVERY TIME SHE TRIES TO MAKE FOOD.

(Geezus, sorry, this is getting long.)

Anyway, the West Wing is off-limits, but The Beast’s third son is the most stinkbeast of all time and goads Sister into checking it out, then turns (literal) tail and runs to snitch on her to get her in trouble. She is cast out into a snowstorm, only to be chased by Three who has come to gloat about his success in stinkery. Her magic surges, they’re about to come to blows - and then something else attacks.

Their assailants are ghosts, nearly impossible to perceive phantom creatures dressed as plague doctors - and they know her. Worse than that, they want her (and Three) dead, but she discovers has a few life-saving tricks up her sleeves. It probably also helps that The Beast immediately regrets his own stink actions of throwing her out, and comes to join the fight. Together, they at least manage to subdue these awful things and chase them off for the night, so everyone can retire to a cute fireplace scene.

It’s here that Sister starts to learn the secrets: The Beast is called Papa Emeritus Nihil and he used to be human, the antipope of a great Satanic Church, until he and his progeny were cursed by a witch for reasons the dark spell prevents them from remembering. Even if they wanted to leave, they are trapped within the cathedral by the surrounding ghosts of the Clergy, wicked men of the Church who abused their power in life, murdered by Nihil when he was changed into a Beast. They had been just languishing here, expecting to die forgotten and miserable, before Sister & Copia stumbled upon them.

Aaaaaaand that’s when she officially catches feelings - not just romantically for The Beast, but for his stupid children too who all now keep doing their own versions of nuzzling against her leg in gratitude for not leaving Three to die (when honestly, she totally should have). So she makes a really stupid decision of her own: she’s going to stay and break this fucking curse.

So, yes. Healthy helpings of melodrama, reluctant motherhood, and monsterfucking. I promise I’ll finish it someday lmao.

[blahkugo]

Rouge

Satori Tendō x Reader (Haikyuu!!)

Word Count: 2.5k

TW: Mafia AU, Dark themes, Blood play (an excessive amount of blood mentions in general), Knife play, Asphyxiation, Angst (?), mentions of death (no main characters), Just two psychopaths going at it tbh.

A/N: I’m so excited to be writing for @the-smut-pile’s newest collab, hosted by @present-mel, @pleasantanathema, and @linestrider. Please make sure to check out the rest of the masterlist here!

Every night, the smell of bleach stings your nostrils and prayers left unsaid weigh heavy on your tongue. ‘It comes with the job,’ they had warned you, had urged a ‘pretty little thing like you,’ not to take a position you couldn’t stomach. You didn't listen, of course.

Because death isn’t a stranger in your life, nor an old acquaintance you catch up with once every few years. It’s a friend that phones daily, a lover you scurry into bed with—the chill down your spine when you walk home alone in eerie silence.

As a doctor you saw it everyday, with every patient that prayed for pity when the pain became all too much. Cries of the sick plagued your every waking moment; who were you to deny them release? Their suffering ended the moment you injected the drugs.

But you’ve never seen death like this before.

“Daydreaming again, angel?” Tendō swipes a disinfectant across the cold metal counter, rubbing until pools of pomegranate red match his long, messy hair. Despite the dreariness of the task, an impish smile remains plastered across his face, the glint in his eyes unscathed by the scene you’d both just witnessed.

“It’s still Doctor to you.” Try as you might, your voice comes out shaky, your heart pounding so hard you’re worried it may actually jump out. That feeling never quite leaves you.

He straightens his gloves and out comes his signature laugh—that high, maniacal, chuckle that stops just short of a song. You’d rip out your car radio if it meant getting rid of it.

“You haven’t been one for a long time.”

The truth makes you shudder, but he’s right, of course. Once your license had been stripped away and you were on the run, your career had officially ended. An ‘Angel of Mercy,’ all the news stations had called you, yapping on for days when you were that week’s most wanted woman.

You don’t have the right to be called a medical professional and yet, you stand your ground. If it means getting him to quit with the dreadful pet name, you’ll say just about anything.

“Your boss calls me Doctor.”

“Because my boss can’t remember your name.” He meets your eyes, lips quirking upward at the little huff that escapes you, your furrowed brows spilling bits of frustration you so desperately attempt to keep bottled. The air hangs heavy with the shrieks of anger you wish you could unleash, all the words you don’t dare say aloud in fear of looking weaker than he already believes you are.

Instead of challenging you further, Tendō simply turns away, chucking the wipes in a bin and humming a tune far too cheery for a man who just ended a life.

When night comes, you dream of the older man who begged to see his children one last time and the laugh that sounds like a song.

—

The next day isn’t any better, because it never is. Ushijima’s moles bring in three more bodies for questioning; bodies, because you’ve been instructed to refer to them as nothing but. And they’re young this time, heavily tattooed kids that can’t be much older than nineteen—children that look so much like the thralls of young men you’ve learned to call friends, you have to avert your eyes when they send panicked glances your way.

You wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons.

“I’ll only ask once,” the gruff, even voice echoes within the small space. “Who’s your supplier?” Your boss is cold and calculated. He never wavers, never says more than he needs to. He’s everything you’d thought the leader of a crime organization would be and more.

Tendō hovers next to him, gnarled fingers twitching eagerly at the knife splayed between them. It’s his weapon of choice, because—as he mentioned your first day on the job—he can ‘take his time with them’.

The captives crack immediately, pleading helplessly for their lives as they vow they know nothing. They probably don’t, appearing to be nothing more than lowly thugs in a long hierarchy of vile men. It doesn’t stop what comes next.

As expected, Ushijima remains silent except for the soft sigh that leaves him. Tendō sighs as well, though it seems more pleased—euphoric, even—than bored. He presses a slender finger into the tip of his knife, watches as a bit of blood runs down his lean arm, paints a strip of his tattoos red, and drips onto the metal table.

“Are they ours now?” Ours. The word brings bile to your throat. Ushijima makes his way to the door, bluntly calling over his shoulder,

“Do what you must.”

You push up your glasses, Tendō grins, and the screaming begins.

—

Blood-stained lab coats are a staple of your wardrobe. No matter how hard you scrub, fingers raw and aching, the faded pinks never seem to give. You quit months ago, resorted to throwing the worst ones away instead of putting yourself through that hell.

This coat’s going straight to the bin.

Through every horrid interrogation, you’ve forced yourself to watch. You’ve never looked away, never dared allow him to smell the fear off of you. You hand him the tools, write the information on the clipboard, assist with cleanup and disposal, and answer any questions he may have—like the good little medical doctor turned mafia member you should be.

And Tendō smiles the whole way through. Even as dagger meets flesh, as pained cries shatter your eardrums, as your vision is clouded with red, red, red—Tendō smiles, humming a tune that you hear long into the next evening.

But today, when the third young man had looked you dead in the eyes and sobbed, begging you to tell his mother he loves her, you couldn’t help yourself.

Of course, the towering redhead didn’t fail to detect the misstep.

“Bad day?” He questions innocently, resting his elbows on the now spotless titanium table. His muscles ripple as he leans, boasting the thousands of dollars worth of art across his arms. It bothers you that you notice it, even more that he probably catches you gawking. He sees everything, after all. Everything but the blood still splattered across his body.

“Won’t be the last, for us at least.” Brows raise, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him. If at all possible, the wicked grin on his face widens.

“You’re exactly right.” And like clockwork, he laughs. Your hands grow cold, ice corroding your veins. He swipes his tongue over his lip, leaving a slick shine on his lips. When he rises and steps toward you, you stand your ground, though you so desperately long to run. “Why so serious?”

“They didn’t know anything,” you mumble under your breath, “and you tortured them anyways.” In all your months of working with him, this is the first you’ve complained—and you immediately wish you hadn’t.

Tendō moves even closer, as though entertained by your tiny outburst. Perhaps he’s been waiting for this moment, for you to finally break your silence. When he speaks, his tone is gentler than usual, but still holds every hint of mockery and nonchalance the bastard is known for,

“It’s our job, angel face.” Another step, another tiny breath you’re holding in, worried that the slightest of sighs might shatter your perfected image of faux indifference. He tilts his head to the side, peering down at you, like you’re- a child.

And the glass breaks.

“Enough.” You splay your hands in front of you, halting him in his tracks, just as he invades your space. “Enough of the patronizing looks, and the humming, and the stupid pet name that you know bothers me!” An accusatory finger is jabbed into his chest. “Don’t you feel guilt? Fear? Empathy? You murder people.”

Your chest burns, heaving with rage. Tendō’s half-smile still sits on his face, words of ridicule ready to roll off his tongue any second. But when you look into his eyes, there seems to be something more—an emotion you can’t quite place. Anger? Understanding?

His next sentence is whispered with such sobriety, you’re unsure who it is you’re speaking to anymore,

“People like us don’t deserve those feelings.”

“There is no us!” The claim may come out crazy, hysterical even— a woman covered in warm blood shrieking within a cold, sterile room. For once, you don’t care. “I’m not like you.”

Those words may be what set him off, hand wrapping around your chin and tilting it up so that you’re unable to look away. Fingers that incite panic and enact violence, fingers you’ve feared since your first day here, clutching you ever-so casually. “Exactly. You’re not like me.”

He doesn’t wait for your rebuttal, gripping harder at your face. “I’ve made my peace with who I am, but you,” his breath fans your cheeks, “you only pretend you don’t enjoy it.”

Then, Tendō’s kissing you. And to your utter surprise, you’re kissing him back. Heat rises within you, the hairs at your neck curling as your lips meet with a ferocity. His palms graze your lab coat—no doubt staining his skin with the blood it’s drenched in—before he’s peeling it off.

When you tug at his messy locks, the butcher smiles and sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. He pulls you closer, hurriedly stripping you of your remaining clothing, until you’re left in just your panties. Hands roam at your supple skin, kneading at your hips, meshing into you wherever he can. All the while, your lips do the same, bleeding into each other until you’re unsure of where you start and he ends.

“No.” The command is stern, perhaps the most you’ve ever been with him. His eyes narrow in disappointment, limbs rapidly untangling from your body. You shove him backwards until his knees hit the edge of the table, nudge him again so that he falls against it, and grab a clean scalpel off the side counter. “No, we do deserve to feel those things.” His grin returns in full force—and he laughs.

This time, you don’t hate it.

“Deep down,” he grunts as you hitch a leg over his thighs and climb onto him, “you know that I’m right.” The scalpel’s pointed tip grazes his black tee, cutting through the material meticulously. You run a palm up his broad chest before pressing a finger to his mouth, smearing nearly dried blood across his jaw in the process.

“You talk too much,” the hushed murmur tumbling from your lips doesn’t sound like you, is foreign and twisted, and too much like him to bode well for either of you. The muscles in his thighs tense beneath you, his hard chest rumbling in a silent glee.

Your fingers brush against his cheekbones and you gasp, losing all perception of who you are. It’s absurd, but the individual you knew before, the persona you so adamantly believed you could uphold, crumbles with a single, soft touch of his skin.

And it’s unfair, really, that someone so beautiful—covered in art, blessed with hair the color of sweet wine and a laugh that sounds like music—could be so utterly fucked up.

When you nick his cheek, observing the drip of blood that trickles down, you wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons. And when you lick at it, preening at the groan that leaves him, you wonder if you’re just as fucked up as he is.

All at once, you’re flipped beneath him, back crashing against the cool metal table. He climbs down and drags his pants off, yanks you towards him with one pull of your thighs, and presses against your core. A shiver runs down your spine at the heat, crazes you for something you didn’t think you needed.

“By the way,” Tendō speaks through kisses and nips at your neck, “you are just as fucked up.” Though you hadn’t realized you’d said that aloud, you’re unable to retaliate, only wrap your legs around his middle and moan at a particularly harsh bite. He soothes every spot of broken skin with his tongue, drifting downwards until his lips meet your cotton panties. “How cute.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting thi– Ah,” your complaint is cut short when he moves them to the side and licks a long stripe up your slit. And he doesn’t stop, lapping and sucking at your soaked cunt, holding you down with one lean arm when you writhe in response to the pressure. “God, fuck.”

“Satori, but I’ll take God too,” he smirks against your mound. It’s then that he inserts a lithe finger, then two, stretching you out until you’re tugging at his long locks, goosebumps raised as the warmth of his mouth intertwines with the cold beneath your back.

You’re panting, unconcerned with time or it’s passing, only his fingers, his tongue circling your puffy bud, and your steady ascension to the edge. Just as your legs tense, breath caught mid-mewl of his name, he stops. You lean up on your elbows, rut against him, searching for more—friction, movement, anything—but he doesn’t let up.

“Fuck- why?” Your cry is loud, whiny even, but you don’t particularly care when euphoria’s been ripped away from you so suddenly.

“Tell me I’m right,” he teases, eyes peering straight through yours. You whine again, a mix between a pained groan and ‘are you fucking serious?’ before he flicks at your bud once more. “Say it.”

And you do. Because, as strongly as you've denied it, you’re every bit as perverse as he is, every bit as infatuated by the idea of power, of playing God—of holding a life between your fingertips and choosing death.

The second the words are out of your mouth, he thrusts deep into you. Your fingers scramble for purchase, nails dragging against the table, then his back, as skin slaps against skin.

There’s nothing gentle about Satori, all lean, hard muscle and jagged edges, but the pain is just as blissful as the pleasure. His fingertips rub at your clit, other hand moving to wrap around your throat and squeeze tightly.

“Satori, I- I need more,” you choke out, lightheaded. And he complies, shifting you to your side and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. Your cries melt into his, sweat soaking your skin, your hair, the table, as he pounds into you over and over again.

“That’s it baby– fuck, let go for me.” He presses the long-forgotten scalpel against your throat—and your vision goes white. Electricity sparks through your spine, your tongue lolls out, and you swear you feel tears run down your cheeks.

He doesn’t stop, working you through the orgasm as your legs bind his waist. A few more thrusts and he’s following you, holding your hips against him so tightly, he’ll probably leave deep purple bruises.

He finally stills, chest falling against yours and heaving, allowing you both to catch your breath. Flashing a set of pearly canines, his wild grin and the glint in his eyes reappear. For the first time since you’ve known him, Tendō is completely silent.

And then he laughs, lawless and untamed, the howl of a hyena that sounds like a song—and you laugh too.

[dreamperson-poll]

match #29

Dead Guy dreamed by @ttearsofthekingdom

A man alone, walking endlessly towards a salvation he will never reach.

Stupid Bastard Plague Doctor dreamed by @the-oooze-creature

a plague doctor with some wood carving tools who sTOLE MY HOUSE!

[zuffer-weird-girl]

@glassartpeasants I blame you for this.

Heartless, demon, cruel, cold, murder...

Those were honestly the kindest words you ever heard of him... yet your heart spoke the exact opposite.

The man could even commit arson right on your front and you couldn't just be... mad at him. Your thoughts about Chisaki never changed despite the attrocities he said and did on all those past few months.

Yet something truly did angered you. How he couldn't give a fuck about you.

After the boss entered on a coma for unknown reasons, Chisaki wasn't the same. Heck, now he demanded to be called by the name of his quirk, Overhaul. Is that or being a pool of blood and mutilated limbs on the ground.

Yet... you felt hope. You really felt hope that this man could change. Be the young man that you met and fell for. Just... notice something.

Notice your pain like he used to... or even show a tad bit of... care. That's all you wanted. Kai would always know when you were sad, on his own way try to comfort you. But now? He didn't even cared...

One tear of yours brushed past the cracks of your cheeks as you winced at only touching it... sighing a bit, you grabbed your mask and put it on. Ready to start the day.

Walking past the halls you saw the man himself standing on his foot. Your face brighten up a bit as you walked towards him.

"Ka-" you stopped immediately when he gaved you a harsh glare "Sorry... Overhaul. Good morning Overhaul." You mumbled.

He only scoffed, walking away from you and simply lifting his hand.

"I dont have time for this. Get to your work and don't bother me."

Each sentence like this one was like a stab on your chest... why would he answer a good morning of yours like that?

"A-Actually.." you tried to muster as he stopped with an annoyed sigh "Can we.. please talk?"

He narrowed his golden eyes at you, looking as if he had been staring at something hideous and that just fucking spitted on his face.

"Make it quick." He grunted, one of his hands resting on his hips as the other remained on one of his pockets.

"I-Is kinda silly ..." you poked your fingers together "I-I mean, we've know each other for more than years already and-"

"Spit it out." He hissed and your smiled dropped.

"... is just that... I felt like I needed to say it." You lifted up your head and stared at him without fear "I.. like you.. more than anything."

"... fine." He simply said like he was expecting something else as your body started to tremble.

".. fine? Is that.." you gulped the thick air on your throat "Is that all you have to say at someone who is confessing feelings for you?"

"Tch." He rolled his eyes before giving his back to you, only giving a side glance "That wasn't a surprise for me. You're like one of those loyal dogs. No matter how much they are kicked they come back crawling towards their owners."

You widened your eyes as you felt the crack on your cheek deepen.

"What?" You let out a gasp of disbelief as he blinked.

"For your information." He narrowed his golden orb at you harder "I dont like to repeat myself. You're just a toy and a obedient scum that is meant to follow my orders. Is only a matter of a lackey, in that case you, and the master." He started to walk as you stood dumbfounded.

Your hands formed into fists as your jaw clenched, finally a feeling you never thought you could feel towards this man appeared. Anger.

Without thinking you grabbed a vase and threw hard enough to almost hit his head, missing by a few inches as he widened his eyes at it.

He looked at the broken vase on the floor in shock before looking towards you, breathing in and out as you felt your skin cracking even more.

"If all I am to you is a loyal pet..." you breathed out, taking your mask off and eventually showing the cracks on your skin to him and the curious precepts coming to see the scene. "THEN YOU CAN TAKE THIS!" you threw the mask towards him that kicked on the floor and almost landed on his feet.

"You have some nerve now.." he growled, taking off his glove as a threat.

"DONT COME TO THIS SHIT TOWARDS ME NOW CHISAKI!" you shouted with a finger pointing at him as he felt his shoulders tense.

Never on your life with him you ever called him by his once surname.

"I was really the only one on this fucking house to truly respect you! Not by fear as almost everyone on here, but because I really am so stupid to fall in love with a bastard, selfish and arrogant man like yourself!" You walked towards him to be standing chest to chest with him as finger was aimed at his face.

"Quiet down." He growled before finally noticing the many cracks and pieces of your skin falling on the ground as you shouted "(Y/n) what-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" You shouted so loudly that even Rappa winced at the anger of your voice... every precept seing the scene as you breathed in and out "If you want to kill me do it now... would be a favor for yourself wouldn't it?" You glared at him as he blinked, still in shock at your actions.

"Not a word?" You commented as you winced at the cracks going to your neck already "For these past few years I wanted to see you happy, succeed... I fucking loved you..." you whispered in pain, dropping your head a bit, taking out a gift Chisaki had given to you a few years ago, a black and white bracelet you never once took off every since now.

".. I was stupid." You lift up your head with a frown and let the bracelet fall into the floor as you gave your back to him and almost ran out of the house.

He was in state of shock before he narrowed his eyes at the subbordinates and commanded them to get back to work... just when all of them left he crouched down to pick both your mask and the bracelet.

"... she will be back. It was just a tantrum." He sighed, taking the two of your once possesions to hsi office "But.. what on hell was that thing on her face?"

.

.

.

Five months... five months flew by since you exited the Shie Hassaikai for good. Going into the doctors to just search for a damn cure... but it was impossible.

"I'm sorry my dear, there is nothing we can do if..." your doctor of years tries to speak through the pain as you stood in the chair, your arms with cracks as part of your cheek was gone.

"I understand." You said, hollow as you always had been after leaving that house. "Thank you for your time... I will see you on the other side then." You managed a smile to the old man as he could only drop his head in shame when you left his office.

People you brushed through the streets looked at you with pity... and you hated.

You evicted the Shie Hassaikai like the plague himself. And one time you could feel Chrono following you.. it was the last straw when he followed you at the appartment you were living on the subborns.

"Go away Kurono." You muttered, feeling him watching you get your keys and open the door, and before you could close the door you groaned at sieng the black boot on the door, preventing you to close it.

"Can we at least talk? I'm not him." He said while taking off his mask, a wince escaping his lips as soon as he saw you on the state you were "What the-"

"Shattered heart disease... dont have a cure." You mumbled, eyes stuck on the floor as a piece of your ear cracked and fell.

"Holy fuck..." the man sighed shakily "Listen, maybe if you come back to the Hassaikai Overhaul can-"

"No." You grabbed the handle and forced the door "It was because of him I am on this state. And I know you came here by his others, and let me say one thing" let me die in peace." You slammed the door shut as Chrono groaned.

"Both of you are just so thick skull it gets on my nerves!" He kicked the door as you rolled your eyes, locking and going to the bed.

The man glared at the door before sighing, looking at his cellphone ringing and leaving the place.

"Forget it man. (Y/n) doesn't wanna see you or the Shie Hassaikai even if we offered her tons of gold."

"... fine. You did what I order so there is nothing that we cant do."

"Be honest Kai.. you do have feelings for her, for a long time." He ignored the disgusted "tch" on the other end of the call "And honestly? If I were on your shoes I would be almost killing myself to fix things." He spoke with a frown.

".. what are you talking about Chrono?"

"Well.." he looked over his shoulder at your apartment door "Ever heard of the Shattered heart disease..?"

"... you're joking with me, right?"

.

.

.

You clenched the side of your waist with a grunt as your other shattered arm support yourself on one of the walls of the apartment.

"No... please..." you whimpered as you gasped at part of your leg shattering as you felt on the ground, more cracks forming in your whole body as you stared in horror at your hand.

"Dammit..." you hissed before hearing a knock on your door.

"Open (Y/n)." You furrowed your eyebrows and gritted your teeth... the guy wouldn't leave you alone even on the freacking hour of your death..?

"Leave..." you sobbed, tears started to shed and unit with the many cracks on the floor where you were standing as you heard Chisaki overhauling the door.

It hurted tu see him... you still had feelings for the man whose caused you this... you didn't know whether or not if you wanted him to see you or not.

"I swear even when-" he stopped midsentence as soon as he saw the scene in front of him.

You could only lift your gaze up with a pained yet broken hollow look as he almost stuttered your name.

"Get out.." your lips cracked, and at this rate you knew you couldn't even move anymore or else it's you meeting death right away.

For the first time on his life his body seemed to move on his own as he kneeled with one knee on the ground beside you as he stared with wide eyes and shaky hands at the pieces of you on the ground.

"For crying out loud.." he muttered in horror as he brushed a hand on his hair before discarding hsi remaining glove in hopes he could put you back.

For the first time he saw you trying to slap his hand away, and your hand broke out of your wrist, shattering in pieces on the ground.

"(Y/n)!" He shouted in a mix of anger and desperation as he saw your face, one that would torment him at nights for the rest of his life surely.

"Don't.. touc..." you breathed out your last word as he widened his amber eyes in horror at seing you cracking even more "me..."

After this last word you saw black and the last thing you heard was Chisaki shouting.

Your body broke. Shattered in pieces right in front of him.

.

.

.

You breathed in harshly. Your lungs burned at the sensation of feeling air again inside them as you coughed...

Blinking, your vision focused a bit to see you were on your bedroom, everything seemed on order and even a tad bit cleaner than it was usually.

Groaning, you standing on your elbows and saw the bandages on your arms as you untangled them to see your skin back to normal... not even a single crack.

"What..?" You breathed out, standing in sitting with a groan as you looked at your surroundings.

You had the strenght again to move your legs and gasped at seing that the leg you saw shattering was still intact, not even a single scar or little crack on it. Standing up you like a newborn, you took a hesitant step only to smile in astonishment that you havent heard the sound of skin or bones cracking.

Walking towards the bathroom, you giggled in surprise and utter relief at sieng your face back to normal before you flinched at hearing something breaking.

"FUCK!" a thundering voice echoed in your apartment that made you flinch. Aa voice you knew it way too well to just forget it. You poked a bit if your head out of the bathroom and tip toes carefully towards the living room to see Chisaki, jacket discarded as well as his mask, back arched on the kitchen counter as he talked with someone on the phone with a gloved hand clenching one side if his head.

"I put all the pieces together already and it has been almost a month." He growled as you stepped inside the living room...

Different from your bedroom, this one was a disaster, papers tossed aside at everywhere, your own phone shattered in pieces near a wall and the couch was with a pillow and a blanket...

Was he..?

"Yes her skin healed but she doesn't appear to be breathing..." you looked at the man, his forearms were filled with hives and you could see by the reflection from the kitchen counter the huge eyebags that were underneath his eyes...

He looked so broken and... terrible.

".. just wait and see huh?" His voice spoke in venom as the hand gripping on his head lunched the counter "WHERE DID YOU ENROLL YOUR PIECE OF GARBAGE ?! NEXT TIME I WILL FUCKING CALL A LAB RAT IF I WANT A DECENT HELP!" and with that he overhauled the cellphone before literally breaking part of your kicthen counter.

"Dammit..." he whispered, a hand on the counter as he fixed back while the other was covering his face...

"Uh..." you mumbled ".. Chisaki?" He flinched at the name and slowly took his hand out of his face.

Ever so slowly his face turned to see you, his eyes tired and red from sleep deprivation but still just as wide as if he had seen a ghost.

".. (Y/n).." he whispered your name before straighting up his back, god, not even his shirt was folded, part of his button up shirt was unbuttoned leaving part of his chest at shown to you.

You could die happily now.

You both stared at each other for a bit, still in shock as you decided to see for real if your arms were still there and without any mark.

"Uh.. can you.. tell me what happened and what are you-" before you could finish you gasped at him suddenly moving to be mere inches away from you.

"Please tell me this is not another fucking hallucination... " he breathed out as you stood there awkwardly.

"Well, I would like to not be.. I literraly died the last time I remember and-" you stopped breathing and talking just when in one blink of an eye Chisaki kneeled on the ground and cradled your hands in his own as he breathed out shakily "C-Chisaki-"

"My god..." he exhaled as he supported his forehead on your two interviewed hands "Thank God... I thought.. I thought I lost you for real..."

You blinked, frowning while looking away from him.

"Wasn't I just a loyal pet as yourself named it?" You mumbled as he let out one of the most painfull chuckles you ever heard of.

"If you were... was I really going to pass each day picking your pieces together... live on this house because I trusted none to take care of you... ever time I woke up and in very five minutes I checked for your breathing and only lord could describe the amount of relief I had when I saw the cracks on your skin dissapearing... I didn't notice earlier how much I needed you in my life... until I fucked up..." he dropped his head again while getting up.

"... so you.. never leaved after that?"

"Didn't take one single step out of this place... I was never one to pray but god..." he brushed his gloved hand on his messy and greasy hair "I lost count on how many times I begged for whoever is up there to bring you back..."

"... why? I thought.."

"The thing is..." he breathed shakily before locking gazes with you "You only give value to the things you loved after you lose them... I learned that from the hard way..."

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Deadpool? More Like DeadFOOL!

For: @syrren

Indestructible hero automatically equals body horror, and heroism always ends up being an inherently public act.

Amity Park was a peculiar town with a peculiar problem. Ghosts. But it was easily the ones who fought the ghosts that were the most peculiar. From a half-android nanobot suit-wielding girl on a hoverboard to a pair of legitimate mad scientists who couldn’t follow driving laws to save anyone's lives. But it was the true town hero who was the worst offender of them all.

See Phantom was an interesting hero to have, if you got saved by him it was perfectly viable that you’d see an arm or leg get blown off in one direction or another, or possibly directly at you if your luck was that shit. More than once there had been petitions against the hero claiming that his ‘methods’ were too graphic for the children, that it was bad for them to see. Most folks agreed but at this point, they were just mildly used to the sudden and arguable unnecessary gore. Besides, it got the job done.

Car about to hit you? Phantom takes the blow and oops there goes his legs halfway down the road while the rest of him is just holding onto the car windshield wipers; turn them on if you feel like spicing things up. Ghost about to hit you with an ecto-blast? There’s Phantom being a walking meat shield again and probably fastly becoming sans one arm. Someone tries to hit you with a knife? Surprise! Now they’re gutting Phantom and he’s using his intestines like rope to subdue the bastard. Just about to get tasered? Phantom will take it and immediately make a ‘well that was a shocking turn of events’ comment; needless to say tasering never happened in town anymore, it just wasn’t worth the psychological damage. Serial arsonist came through the town again? Get prepared for the scent of burning flesh and burning jumpsuit; and please ignore the guy walking around while on fire like he doesn’t realise he’s on fire.

Fucker ate a bomb once. That had been interesting and extremely messy, the EMTs had just kind of swept up the fleshy gore pieces into a mound of flesh and the stupid bastard just put himself back together again. It was generally an agreed-upon fact that Phantom liked to gross and freak people out. He deeply enjoyed the confusion and faces or regret and horror; he enjoyed them immensely. Based on his laughing anyway. His creep factor was only heightened by the fact that he wore head-to-toe hazmat spandex, including the goggled gas mask hood. Seeing that head rolling down the street while the rest of his body goes chasing after it because he got decapitated for the tenth time that week was never not disturbing. He even spiced it up with a bird plague doctor mask for a while but the beak kept getting in the way or torn off, which only made it creepier because all anyone could see was his pearly white teeth; which is how everyone learned that he smiled a lot and very wide, it was very uncomfortable for everyone and freaky.

Watching him chase after ghosts was interesting though, seeing as he couldn’t fly and for some strange reason tended to chase after them instead of just shooting at them from a distance; why? Most folks chopped it up to dramatics, the boy was very dramatic. Sometimes if a ghost got behind him he’d just shoot through his body at them instead of turning around; doing that didn’t even help accuracy or save time, it did stop any ghosts from trying to snatch him from behind though. He also was known to tear off his own fingers to use the bones as knives, ridiculous and not even that effective. The ghosts also sometimes cared as little about bodily damage as he did, which equalled a huge mess and a boatload of body horror. Limbs would be flying, heads would be thrown, teeth were used as makeshift gun bullets, intestines for lassos; that notable time Phantom and a ghost had a hacky-sack competition to settle a fight but using Phantom’s heart.

Yeah, Amity was strange and biohazard clean-up was a mandatory and daily service. Half the time the place smelled like gore and ectoplasm, the other half of the time it smelt like cleanser; the latter was actually far harder to go nose blind to surprisingly. And Phantom was their staple, he even brought in some tourism; not that that was particularly fun for the tourists seeing as Phantom had a tendency to chuck body parts at them. Which of course resulted in a couple of attempted lawsuits, which they now had town-specific insurance and wavers visitors had to agree to to prevent them from doing just that. At least no one ever successfully sued, small miracles. The only one that had come close was the one from a traveller who wound up in Amity by mistake and also had the misfortune of a ghost trying to hide and bunker down in their room; Phantom got in by throwing and pushing himself through the air vent piece by piece. None of the town’s folk were about to deny that would probably classify as traumatising, but if they paid for every incidence of Phantom doing something disturbing they’d be bankrupt.

The teens were far more used to him than the adults oddly enough, far less bothered. It wasn’t even uncommon for a random teen to be seen aiding Phantom in pulling off something truly horrific. From slingshots built from his organs, to showing how to create a pipe bomb with his bones. There was that notable time one of the nerds helped him make homemade napalm, but no one exactly liked mentioning the time he was on fire consistently for an entire day and just walked around ominously towards ghosts to chase them off; it was effective but far too disturbing to support, not to mention dangerous for everyone else around. Though the animal rights activists and environmentalists had raised a bit of a stink when a few teens conspired with Phantom to see if he could fill his stomach with water, cart around a baby shark in there, and use it to surprise attack a ghost chest-burster style; that also worked but the backlash was so immense the mayor had to beg him not to do that ever again... he agreed on the condition of a free chocolate bar that was exactly one year old to the date,

Phantom made little to no sense and most of the town’s folk blamed the severe lack of self-preservation combined with the fact that Phantom was clearly a teenager. Teenagers were already psychos two steps away from murdering a bitch or crying in an empty bathtub to pop-punk. Phantom just took that and added a big ol’ dose of ‘come on and try to kill me you bitch! I betcha fucking can’t!’ in the mix while proceeding to repeatedly prove it. Some wondered if he literally won a bet against death, or made a deal with the devil; others suspected genetic science gone wrong. Whatever it was it allowed one teen to single-handedly turn their entire town into a body horror circus top playground from Hell, where he was the ringmaster and every single one of the freaks but there was also surprise guests that could float and shoot fucking laser beams.

He also had a serious caffeine addiction. His usual? Thirty espresso shots in one really big cup. The only reason he was allowed to buy that shit was explicitly because it wouldn’t kill him specifically.

Though the fact that the town knew his ass was indestructible did get taken advantage of, seeing as he’d get asked to help with or do shit that no sane person would ask of literally anyone normal. Fryer baskets all broke in your restaurant and Phantom’s there? Ask him to use his hands as makeshift baskets; don’t matter if his hands get deep-fried too. He will demand to be paid in whatever you’re deep frying though. Shoes got stuck on the telephone wires because you were a dumbass and threw them up there? Send Phantom shimmying up so long as you’re cool with getting a bajillion electrocution puns while he does so; you’re better off just buying new shoes, seriously. Got a flat tire and have no jack? Prop it up on Phantom, don’t matter if he gets crushed; he might just bite a hole in your other tire out of spite though, making you have to go fetch a new one. Want to know if this random thing you found is poisonous? Phantom will absolutely eat it, fucker will eat anything honestly; he will make a point to vomit it up on your shoes if it is poisonous though so be warned.

In a sense, Phantom was a real double-edged sword. Unless you were into heavy gore and all-around disgusting things; in which case move to Amity Park, we’d love to have you and Phantom would love to come and test just how far you could be pushed. The furthest anyone’s made it before telling him that something was seriously disturbing and/or disgusting was him frying up a flesh pancake extra crispy to use as a frisbee because the store was out; he used the gas station microwave to make it.

He was a really effective hero at least. Very determined and thorough; even if popping out his eyes and chucking them around was probably not the best way to check and everyone really wishes he’d just walk around like a normal person instead.

End.

Prompt: Instead of making him half-dead, the portal accident makes Danny unable to die. This....changes things.(or: how canon changes if the accident leaves Danny with deadpool-style regeneration abilities to make for a horrifyingly self-sacrificing vigilante, or with some kind of reset ability every time he dies to equally horrifying implications)

[permian-tropos]

“Seismic” -- Daniil Dankovsky/Artemy Burakh fic that I just spat out

CW: angst, suicidality

I will post this on AO3 maybe like a normal person but it’s late and I’m lazy

Edit: the AO3 link if you want it there

...

Two dogs barked in warning — they knew, as they so often did, of the oncoming quake.

The plague itself was growling in the air, unyielding in its final hours, and the black soot flakes soared on suddenly stirred air currents, all aflutter with anticipation.

On the eastern side of the Guzzle crossing came running the man who could always smell blood before it was spilled, because it was by rights his to harvest.

On the south side of town the cannons on the railroad were turning and aiming, ready to belch fire.

The yargachin stood on the bridge looking into the Stone Yard, where the spear would finally be ripped from the heart of the world. There it was; that glittering silhouette in the hazy air, that crystalized twister touching down by the bend in the river.

The Polyhedron’s manic angles had never seemed so alive. She was baring herself to the world, a witch upon the pyre screaming her last wild curse, and in that moment she and the Earth were not enemies but one being, united in defiance against their coming death.

As the ground beneath his boot soles shivered, the Haruspex at last knew what the odonghs meant when they said they could sense the weight of every pair of feet on the streets of the town.

Because he felt footsteps that should not be there, crossing the Bridge Square.

Walking west, to where the sun set, the steps spoke their own rhythmic language, tolling like a warning bell: I am going to see this to the end.

The butcher’s heart gasped like it too had been pierced through. Artemy heaved in a lungful of acrid infected air and sprinted through the Atrium, past the befuddled soldiers. His bad leg hobbled and nearly sent him down to one knee, but he turned a corner and beheld:

The fog in the square cut by the silhouette of a long leather coat — and he’d even brought his trademark bag; it swung at his side.

The Bachelor looked like a man upon the lip of a train platform, impatiently clasping his luggage, awaiting his chance to travel far away —truly far — the next time an engine thundered through the station.

His upturned head spelled out plainly that his eyes were only on the tower. Transfixed upon his beloved.

Artemy staggered across the paved stones, past the row of bodies left behind by the Inquisition, and caught Daniil Dankovsky by his arm.

And swung him around with one sharp pull. The man’s eyes were wide and red-rimmed, and out from them cracked all those furrows of stress that had been pressed into the man’s face over two weeks of squinting, straining, grimacing, scowling, and perhaps, by the looks of it, weeping.

“No,” was all Artemy could gasp with the last air in his lungs, and then he had to pant and recover.

“Don’t you dare stop me!” Dankovsky cried out, thrashing and fighting the grip on his arm.

Artemy clung to the snakeskin on his sleeve with all the strength he had left. He shook the man just as vigorously as the man was struggling, until his efforts stilled. “You’re not going up there.”

“You should have killed me in the Shelter. But you didn’t, so I’m going inside one last time. Maybe, just maybe, there’ll be one more dream left, and it won’t die alone.”

“The cannons!” Artemy choked out. “I delivered the orders! They’re taking aim!”

“I know,” said the Bachelor, tongue heavy, like he wanted the words carved on his grave. His lips shuddered, and then he twisted his arm, wildness flashing in his eyes.

Artemy grabbed his shoulders before he could wrench himself free. And stared at him, trying to vivisect him with a glare. By the way the man was trembling, the Haruspex was indeed cutting deep, through his medrel, his nerves.

Dankovsky was lost to his grief, seduced at his lowest moment by the Pied Piper herself, the temptress who had spirited away the children of the Town.

And now it wanted him to lie down with it in its grave, as its eternal lover. It had called him here with the siren song, there is nothing else but me, without me you are nothing, and I need you.

“What does a man do without a dream? What does mankind do?” Dankovsky dropped his bag and clutched the front of Artemy’s smock, and from the way his fingers clawed and twitched, he was coming close to reaching up and trying to squeeze his throat. But he did not do that. He just clung.

Artemy struggled for words. “We don’t do. We just are. And that’s enough.”

Dankovsky's breath caught on a wet clog in his throat. “I can’t live like this,” he rasped. “I’ll never be free again. I never was. Now let me go. I didn’t think you’d have to see this—”

“I’d see it when they found your body in the wreck. Is that how you want to be remembered, mangled and broken?” His jaw was tight as a bear trap, ready to snap. “Is that what you want to leave behind for someone you called a friend?”

The Bachelor’s cheeks were turning ashen. “Someone I called an idiot. Get out of here, Burakh, before you’re crushed by a chunk of debris. Any moment now, they’ll fire.”

“Then move, you bastard!” Artemy yanked on his arm to pull him away, yet still he fought.

A razor-sharp Line was wound all around Dankovsky’s body, biting through his clothes into his flesh like a garrote, and it was screeching the same discordant tune as the wicked metal frame balanced precariously in the Earth’s flesh.  

“It’s alive,” Dankovsky croaked. “In a way unlike anything in the universe. It’s so alive it makes the noon sun look like a shadow on the wall of a cave.”

Artemy wanted to sob, the way he had when a being shaped like his favorite childhood toy had tottered up to him on tiny hooves and plaintively asked, could it not live too? Was there not a world where it, strange form of life that it was, could be loved?

“I understand,” he said, and he did. “... I refuse to make another sacrifice. Especially not one as meaningless as this.”

“Not everything is about sacrifice!” the Bachelor spat. “My story is, quite simply, over.”

“You love that that tower so much you’d die with it? After two weeks? Barely any time!”

“Enough time to destroy a town and end thousands of lives.” A cruel grimace briefly flashed Dankovsky’s teeth, though it was covering up a flush of mortification. “You’ve known me for those same two weeks, but you’re out here in the open, waiting to be skewered on shrapnel, all over this poor waste of skin. Could it be that you’re—” he clutched a mocking hand to his breast, over his heart — “oh! just as suicidally devoted, my dearest Haruspex—!”

His words had such venom that he must have thought they would shame Artemy into letting go. A blow to his masculinity, or some such stupidity like that.

Artemy’s blood boiled, and then surged without thought. He seized Dankovsky in his arms and bent him over backwards and kissed him.

He tasted the pulse of both of their hearts as a tickle against his lips. Dankovsky flailed and helplessly threw his arms around Artemy’s shoulders, to catch his balance.

And as he did, his body shivered and his back arched into a yearning, yielding shape in Artemy’s tight grasp. Artemy’s own spine tingled from tip to tail, more urgently with every moment that Dankovsky did not pull away.

Artemy’s emboldened hand found the man’s free leg and clutched his thigh, while Dankovsky gasped through his nose and wriggled in embarrassment at the touch, but kept his mouth firmly sealed against Artemy’s.

The Cathedral bore witness; Artemy could feel it rapturously exhale a great gust of seconds into the world. The Crucible’s stately wings shivered and held their breath, scandalized. And the Polyhedron’s needle, jammed into the agonized Earth, vibrated with outrage.

He is mine, the edifice howled.

Not anymore, rumbled the Haruspex’s decree, and he planted his feet and refused to budge. His sympathy for the tower, miracle that it was, had dried up. For this eternal moment, he was the wedge forcing its way down upon those sharp threads tightly binding Daniil Dankovsky to the Polyhedron.

A great crack of gunfire split the sky and rocked the earth.

The scents of metal and blood were indistinguishable from one another, as both exploded into the air as a ruddy mist.

The seismic shudder sent Artemy down to his knees, but he didn’t let Dankovsky go; they sank together, dropping to the flagstones and unsticking their lips as their ears rang from the cacophony.

Artemy unclenched his eyelids. His heart jumped; they were both still alive, and Dankovsky had his gloved — and still very bloodstained — hand clutched over his mouth. But aside from that old gore, there was a faint spray of pink mist on the side of him that faced the river.

Fingers shaking, realizing he was staring at the cure for the Sand Pest splattered against the Bachelor’s pale skin, Artemy traced the droplets across the man’s temple. Magnificent, miraculous, chimeric blood.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he gruffly forced out, as his own mortification got the better of him. “Like I just took your innocence.” The Bachelor slowly lowered his hand from his mouth, and his dark brows dropped low and miserable, as he turned his head towards the river of blood and the jagged bones of the specular tower. “That’s exactly what you’ve done,” he whispered.

Artemy let go of Dankovsky slowly; his joints felt stuck. “Then I will bear the weight of that evil, and you will live to hold it against me.” He rose on trembling feet and pointed. “It’s over. That’s our cure, doctor.”

Dankovsky remained half-sprawled on the ground, lips forming silent words that could have been numb denials.

“It’s,” he finally said. “It’s… over.”

Artemy swallowed and took a rotten, sin-soaked step towards that beautiful red pool. He understood the hollow tones in Dankovsky’s voice. What even were they now, without the frantic running through the streets, without the smoke from signal fires stinging their eyes, without creeping to avoid the pools of light from streetlamps with a half-shattered blade in hand, without obsessive hoards of trinkets and trash filling their pockets?

The Earth’s thrashing and bellowing in pain underneath him was growing stiller, colder, fainter.

“No more of your self-pity,” Artemy finally forced out. “We have work to do. One more task. I need you, oynon.”

Behind him, by the sound of it, Dankovsky was picking himself up off the smooth stones. “You don’t need me,” he said dully. “I barely helped.”

“Spare me that bullshit. What’s left of the town is alive because of you.”

“Then. Everyone who died.”

“Stop it,” said Artemy. He didn’t turn around. “Don’t goad me right now. I won’t kiss you again, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

For an aching moment, the words caused a ripple, like a stone thrown in a pond.

“Then let’s work,” said Dankovsky, and he was quiet and bitter and resigned, but he was still there. To live in the throes of despair took courage, warm courage borne from warm blood, that still assiduously pumped inside his chest. His unthinking blood cherished the brain that struggled to love itself, and that would do for now.

[chezzyspam]

Protagonists Audition

By Wealmostaneckbeard and I am leaving it up to Chez who gets to choose who's in and who is out:

Established Characters:

Ethan Winters:

Hey I'm Ethan Winters. I survived RE: Biohazard and, spoiler alert, died in Village. I'm partially made out of mold and I annoy my enemies by surviving things that should definitely kill me. My motivations are simple (I love my wife and daughter), I am good at using weapons and crafting useful stuff. I may have respawned out of the megamycete variant that Hazel was cultivating beneath their candy factory. I am now severely confused and would like everyone to know that I am alive again.

Ada Wong:

Hello there, it's me, the sexy and mysterious femme fatale in too many RE games to count. I was originally going to be in Village and save Ethan from an evil judge but alas it was not to be. I was also going to be in a really cool tactical plague doctor outfit and this might be my chance to wear it again (outside of the concept art). One of my sources tipped me off about Prunello's Candy Factory. I'm just here to grab a few samples of the mold variant and leave. I understand it won't be that simple but in this line of work, nothing is.  

Lady Dimistrescu 

THAT NONBINERY BITCH HAS BEEN STEALING MY WATER SUPPLY FOR TOO LONG AND IF IT WASN'T FOR THAT TODDLER HEISENBERG I WOULD HAVE TORN DOWN THAT STUPID CANDY FACTORY AND - hang on I've got to go kill Ethan, I will return shortly...

OC characters:

Rita Hansmeyer

I'm a 49 years old transwoman who was lucky enough to snag a job as a government health inspector. I am tired of many things: this job, the bastards who bribe and threaten me because of it, and my mistreatment because of my identity.  But the hope of a government pension is what's keeping me going these days. There's been reports of people getting violently ill after eating candy made by a multinational corporation that's been outsourcing production to some candy factory in the middle of no-where. I am going to go check it out, write up a report and hopefully not get killed.

Karl the Lycan

Megamycete dead. Good. Karl free. Live in woods now. Wait. Karl smell another. Megamycete. Different. Must kill it. Stay free. It has Lycan Guards too.  They smell different. Too. Why sweet? Karl not sure. Don't care. Karl do what good at. Kill.

Specialist Kui

My name is [REDACTED] Kui and I am [REDACTED]. I served in the [REDACTED] armed forces during the [REDACTED] Incident in [REDACTED] Province. I am now working for the European Unions Bioweapon Response Division as a recon specialist and intelligence gatherer. I feel comfortable in tactical gear and my interests are engineering and cosplay. A couple of EU air monitoring stations detected an alarming increase in mold particulate so I am sweeping the area to try and find the source. Once I find it, I'm going to radio it in and wait for back up.

[sloppy-butcher]

Request 2 of 2 is any killer you want meeting a sneaky survivor (later s/o bc I’m weak) who can get up from being moried but have reduced movement, repair speed and if they get hooked it’s instantly over for them (I say any because I want you to write what you like, I’ll probably request more characters for either prompts I sent tho if you’re ok with it)

okay so, with this ask i decided to do something a little different.

The idea of somehow surviving a mori is so bizarre and unlikely that it really took me a while to think about it. I mean, the whole point of a mori is to outright kill the survivor. so in order to bring this request to life i decided to set up some ground rules.

1.) it will be assumed that the survivor who can outlive a mori is one lucky bastard. Whether it is because the killer is in a rush and cannot ensure the job is done correctly or they just suck and overestimated their killing ability.

2.) It will also be assumed that in order to survive a mori, the person who gets up immediately seeks the best medical attention the Fog has to offer (i.e. They rush over to Claudette bleeding outta their asshole). They must also be near the end of a trial because once they escape all wounds will be healed and their supposed death will be null and void.

Below is a list of the mori’s that are a definite no-no and are a maybe (WARNING: i wrote these at 3AM)

Mori’s you would definitely die to:

Huntress (Axe to the face)

Bubba (*get that bitch Leatherface!* chainsaw up torso)

Hag (pulls spleen (?) out, needs some spice)

Deathslinger (speared from butthole to mouth hole)

Oni (sword through the chest and no more tongue)

Pyramid Head (huge knife through gut)

Freddy (fingers your chest)

Spirit (knife to meet you *screams in Japanese*)

Doctor (you got a brain? not anymore)

Legion [specifically Joey] (mans is determined and crazy strong. its lights out for you)

Mori’s that are a MAYBE live:

Trapper (basic slash 4 a basic bitch)

Wraith (*baby WHACK baby WHACK baby WHACK*)

Hillbilly (bruh it aint even that deep)

Nurse (lady got moldy worm fingers, dafaq that suppose to do)

Clown (steals a finger and cracks your back)

Demogorgon (again, cracks your back starting with your neck)

Myers (has no aim and could miss a vital organ)

Ghostface (again, has talent but got no direction)

Pig (cover that new mouth vagina quick then you’d be gucci)

Plague (i want her to spit in my mouth so)

Legion [rest of them bitches] (punk lil babies who probs can’t even open a pickle jar)

Pyramid Head (the mini mori where he just bonks you after being hooked/cage: vibe check failed)

Now, with this out of the way, I have chosen two killers to write about. hope they are ok <3

HeadCanons for The Wraith (Philip Ojomo) and The Plague (Adiris) with a sneaky S/O capable of surviving a mori

The Wraith (Philip Ojomo)

Has to do a double-take when he sees you up and walking. He’ll literally stop dead in his tracks and just watch as you stumble across the landscape, dropping all his previous activities to focus on you. You looked like a ghost.

He’d question himself for a moment. Had he actually killed you? Did he just down you and forget? No, no. Philip always remembered who he killed, their faces of fear and pain, and their cries as he slashed open their backs. He was a strong man, vicious in his attacks. There was no way he could have missed. Yet, like a living contradiction to his beliefs, you were there.

He’d stalk you, cloaked and extremely quiet, turning the invisible factor up to 120%. You wouldn’t even notice he was there. He’d follow you around, peaking from behind trees and through windows as you would hobble after teammates and sloppily repair generators. If one of the more bulky survivors were on your team they’d carry you, slinging one of your arms over their shoulders and leading you around. How selfless and thoughtful. The other, more clever survivors would hurriedly try to mend your wounds, quick hands weaving through medkits and over broken skin. However nothing they did return you to your prior vigor. You definitely carried the weight of a near-death experience. regardless, Philip felt moved by your teammates' determination to help you.

If you ended up being the last survivor in the trial, the others having been hooked or mori’d, Philip would always let you live. He’d watch you get back up from your position on the floor, blood spewing out of the wounds across your back. You’d groan and shakily get to your feet, swaying as you did so, before trudging off to start the final generators. He admired your commitment and vowed to not disturb you as you worked. But progress was slow and Philip always found himself circling you. Maybe if you were healed you could work better? He thought to himself as he quickly zoomed around the arena in search for discarded med-kits. He’d find some still clutched in the frozen hands of dead teammates and hurriedly he’d take and present them to you. Although he was too nervous to actually hand the items to you, Philip would quietly leave them on the floor for you to turn around and find. Then he would retreat back to the shadows and continue to watch you.

The Plague (Adiris)

Adiris would also do a hard double-take. She’d gasp loudly when she found you working on another generator. You could hear her mumbling ancient words under her breath, rambling, and getting more and more frantic as she approached you.

Unlike Philip, Adiris would have no hold-ups about hurting you and she would set to work chasing and quickly down you again. With one quick smack, you would be forced to the ground with the impossible tall lady standing over you. Her previous whispered had now progressed into full-blown shouts. She’d call out to the sky in a desperate and commanding tone, the Babylonian language feeling strange in your ears. With palms open and facing upwards Adiris would thrust back her head and shout out for an explanation. Were you some kind of God? Maybe even a demon or angel? Whatever you were, it freaked Adiris out. Her eyes focused solely on the dark sky, all previous engagements to the trial having been forgotten. You could hear her desperately calling out for her God, crying for a reason as to why you didn't die. After several minutes, with her eyes filling with tears, Adiris relented and lowered her head.

There was no answer. If you weren’t some type of supernatural being, and instead just some poor ordinary person, then Adiris had in fact just failed at killing a poor soul. She wasn’t stupid; she could tell that she was chosen to mindlessly hurt and kill people for her God. Her personal philosophy when it came to hunting down the survivors of the Fog, was to offer them a swift and painless exit from this world of suffering. But with you laying at her feet, wheezing with blood and vomit coating your clothing, Adiris had to realize that she had failed, not only herself but you. She hadn’t effectively killed you and instead only added to your pain.

Adiris knew that you carried that burden of her weapon and she felt it tear her up inside. She hated herself and her lackluster ability to effectively kill you. She debated whether to try to kill you again. But the thought of even attempting such an act boiled her stomach and made her sick. You watched her from your position on the floor. There was a deep sense of sadness in her eyes, her shoulders lowered and it seemed she had lost her prideful demeanor. She looked pitiful and lost, like a child having been told Father Christmas isn’t real. After a moment of watching her for signs of aggression, Adiris finally moved. She knelt down and gently placed a hand on your back. She mumbled something to you that sounded like an apology before she quickly stuck her hands underneath you. Effortlessly the tall lady picked you up bridal style and set off in search of your teammates. In the distance, you spotted Nea working on the last-gen. Adiris also noticed the girl and with long, determined strides, brought you to her. Nea went to flee at the killer's approach, but when she saw you in her arms, carried like a baby, she stood her ground. Adiris dropped you at Nea’s feet and with one final look, walked away never to be seen again for the remainder of the trial.