#doomslayer x reader

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

“A Headcannon for the Slayer as his new game comes out.” - Ichor

Summary - “Smut & Normal headcanons for the Scourge of Hell.”

“DOOM: The Dark Ages came out! :D So, these are HeadCannons for Doom Eternal.” - Edit

TW // Smut.

|°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐮𝐲

"The mark of the Doom Slayer was burned upon his crypt, a warning to all of Hell that the terror within must never be freed. There he lies still, and ever more, in silent suffering." - Slayer's Testament

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜/𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜:

Alright, as we all know, he doesn’t really speak. Not even a peep of pain leaving him as he gets wounded from minor or severe injuries. He is like a brick wall, and it’s almost like talking to one too, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t listening in on you. You are at least humane enough that you just… ramble to him at points whenever he is around, and it rather makes him feel more… included in life than he was.

He was unsure of you at first, like any other soldier or person that has found another survivor of an apocalypse, but he eventually gets used to your presence. Sometimes he even turns a bit, expecting you to be next to him when he was out slashing demons. He gets a bit… saddened each time when he sees you are not there. Though, I believe he would have some voice recording of you in his helmet to put him at ease.

Eventually, he likes to be around you more and more. Always finding himself coming to your house/base and watching you doing something mundane. Something this is something else rather than killing and hacking demons. He… he enjoys the simplicity of life. It’s very much different from his usual order: slash, kill demons, rip and tear until nothing is left, repeat. He likes watching you, and in return? You watch him as well.

Either he follows you around like a big protective puppy or you follow him around like a mewling kitten. This is no in-between. You going out to rob some abandoned joint? He’s coming with you if he is there with you, no matter the time, dusk to dawn. You following him? He grows to enjoy it, but just because he lets you follow him when he’s out slaying doesn’t mean he’ll let you every single time. It’s very possible he will stick you somewhere if you’re adamant enough to follow him. He’ll come back for you, don’t worry.

Big ol protector, is one of the things he’s being great at in a gore-like way. Don’t expect him to be all pristine after tearing all those demons apart either. That is his job, don’t disintegrate it for he is really good at it, and well… I don’t think he would appreciate you bad mouthing him. Despite that, he would protect you to the fullest. Being your leader once he learns of your pathing between abandoned cities and factories, and demons know full well to not get in the way. At least, not without a powerful hoard. (That will still fail, but there are possibilities…)

Speaking of the possibilities, he is brutal when something happens to you. The slayer has lost so much already, he is not going to be kind on whatever hurt you or is perceived a threat by you. It’s x10 worse when he finds you gone and he finds out about it himself. His livid, but again, silently. That is until he gets his hands on the demons or even humans that have captured you or perhaps even killed you. If they have put you 6 feet under, expect the aura of this silent behemoth to go up.

Honestly doesn't like seeing you gone from his sights for too long. It gives him a weird feeling of dread after a while. Sure, he’s focused on his task, but who’s to say that a brain doesn’t multitask? This slayer can think of you all day long, and many days he has. I mean, what if there is a demon hoard around your base/home? Getting through you to get to him? He wouldn’t put it below a demon to do so…

Likes helping you out quite a bit with most of the mundane chores of the world. You going to wash the dishes, including his plate? No, let him do it. You made the food, it’s only right for him to help you clean up. You need to travel to get more supplies? Expect a hefty amount in your pantry/storage the next day, maybe a few hours. He just likes providing like he human again.

He definitely likes to jam out with you. Sharing each others music tastes. He even listening to your music while he fights off demons. Mercilessly tearing down his enemies as a rather cute song plays. The blood of the his opposers staining his armor while he just continues on his way. Somehow even sending you recommendations when he out slaying. You encourage him to focus on his set task and he just sends you another song in response, despite your worry.

Encourages you to defeat your enemies when you to battle together. He helps you to know your weapons, slowly teaching you how to weld what you hold. Doing some combos and tactics: thrust, dodge, slash, thrust. A simple combo, but it sure is amusing to see you trying to use what he’s teaching you of. It never fails to have you a bit… dazed in your training, and perhaps… underneath him.

𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥/𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭:

For those who veiw the Doomslayer in a religious light. I would say he would like wait until you are both married to have sexual intercourse, and at that certain point I believe he would take it slow at first. You are both testing your boundaries. It’s usually not good to rush unless experienced with your partners body. Also, he’s definitely huge and would not like to ruin you the first time. No matter if he had tempting thoughts of you.

Worship can both ways in this one. With him? He likes to caress and massage you. His tongue and teeth gently giving kitten licks and nips to test your skin and nerves before starting the main course. Do it on him? Best believe he would be a bottom for a bit. His hands squeezing your thighs gently while you focus your attention on doing your treatment on his own battle hardened skin. You can hear him sigh out a couple of times to your affections.

In my opinion, I think he would like biting more than praise. He’s more hands on than all talkative, but he won’t object your praise to him if that is your subconscious duty. He will grow to love it. Though, back to biting. He loves to mark his partner. Sinking his teeth into their skin just hard enough to leave a mark, and he absolutely doesn’t mind if you do the same. It will surprise him at first, but he’s not against it with how his member twitches.

Definite size kink. That man is what? 7ft? Almost? Ones has to have a size kink of being such a powerful size. So, with a smaller partner he would absolutely thrive on how tight you feel around him. Your body unable to take any more that what you have already inside of you. Bigger partner? He loves just how much you can take him. To see his cock disappear within you as you take him greedily.

Belly budge kink, if he liked watching himself going inside of you, he’s going to like watching that bit of skin the creates a budge inside of you. Telling him of how much you are taking him, and it’s impressive. His hands usually wandering over that bit of skin and gently thumbing it. Watching you closely as you wither and whine at the sudden touch.

I see him having a lingerie kink. So, it would become a great surprise to him if he sees you in nothing but lingerie. He wouldn’t expect that of you, but he certainly isn’t declining your clear invitation of your body sitting so pretty upon the bed with sighs of his name falling from your lips while you pleasure yourself with your fingers. He is quick to not leave you unsatisfied.

Ough, chastity. This one can last a while as he would not have a high limbo. This can be torture for you and more like a walk in the park for him. So, I would advise you to plan this one carefully. Perhaps even challenge him (and well yourself) that you two can’t fuck each other, but you two can tease one another. It’s mostly you teasing, but once he does it? It’s hard to keep your hands to yourself because he knows you like it when he gets back to you and takes his armor off to show the hidden muscle underneath. Bastard.

You could ask him to be bottom for a night, but he would be a power bottom. His hands grasping at your thighs and thrusting up into you with impeccable timing. Your mind going a bit frazzled at his actions as you thought you were going to have him withering but it seems he keeps you in your place in either position. He also likes it when you look exhausted above him. Your hands splayed out on his chest with your heated breathes coating his skin.

There are times where this man gets needy after having you has a partner. The chastity maybe a hard one to get him on, but it honestly takes a lot of time for him to become needy. He is more of a war machine than a sexual one, so it makes sense he isn’t, but when he is? Expect him to be curled around you with his cock deep inside of you. His own, hot breaths breathing into your ear as he stuffs you slowly with him. Taking you deep and slow, savoring you.

It takes a long time for him to do chastity, needy sex, and so does rough sex. He really isn’t that much keen on that one as he doesn’t like to imagine on hurting his partner, but he does obey your cries for more. For him to go “r-rougher!” And by god does he deliver, drilling into you with huffs and growls. His hands squeezing tightly at your waist just enough to create a bruise later. No doubt leaving you bedridden for the next days to come. You’re lucky however, that he cares for you afterwards with love.

[thelilypadlounge]

Doom Guy/Slayer x gnReader

It’s moments like these you thoroughly enjoy. You're in a comfortable bed, the room is dark, there are no responsibilities that need tending to, nice and comfy. Just you, a comfy bed, and Doom Guy. Yeah- you're still not entirely sure how this happened- but it did. 

When you first entered and became part of his life, you wondered why he even had a bed in the Doom Fortress. It seemed before that the bed was rarely touched; you were very tempted to check the bed for dust, you didn't. You did- however- run your finger across the dust on the headboard.

The man never seemed to sleep, he always seemed to be on the hunt. Ripping and tearing his way through hell’s legions, like a bloodhound with an unquenchable thirst. As far as you're aware Doom Guy doesn't technically need sleep. 

As for you, in the last few weeks, you've been growing more comfortable here in the Fortress. This place has started to feel like home, comfortable in ways only home can offer. Where you can be yourself unapologetically. It lets your mind be at ease, relaxed to the point where you have started to sleep in the untouched bed.

But ever since you’ve started sleeping in the bed he never used, you've noticed him quietly following along. As in, he’d try, and fail-  to sneak into bed with you. It’d sound like a bass drum walking down the hall to the room, and muffled vibrations through the metal floor could be felt as it got closer. You’d press your face into the pillow trying to ignore everything, the opening of the door, him entering- then the rustle of clothes as he changed into something more appropriate for resting. Most often just a pair of sweats you bought him, no shirt.

He's a furnace enough on his own.

Your hand massages the wide expanse of his back, every now and then putting more pressure into tense areas of his back, trying to work out the tight knots. Occasionally you’d feel a rough patch of skin where scarring has occurred, deep old scars that you avoid dragging your fingers too hard into. Feeling the dip of his spine inclines you to scratch along the slope of it. His back arches beneath your touch, pushing you deeper into the bed. You’re attempting to get him to unwind further, to get his muscles to loosen up from slaughtering demons for God knows how long. Your hand wanders absentmindedly up his back, fingertips tracing idle circles along the line of his spine, then up to the hair at his nape. 

His short brown hair is surprisingly soft. Perhaps you should look into the brand of shampoo he uses, you hope it's not one of those three-in-one shampoos. If it is- then you would have to intervene next time he's about to wash up and actually get him into a proper hygiene routine.

Burying your face into his hair, you take a breath and get the faint smell of eucalyptus- and a bit of mint, you hum into him. He definitely had taken a shower before sneaking into bed. 

Every night he tries to sneak into bed, slowly, in an attempt to try not to wake you. All after finishing up with whatever task he had taken on for the day. It doesn't work though. 

You’ve become a light sleeper over time, any shift in the bed would wake you and since he started to sleep in the bed with you, it's nearly impossible to sleep without him. So you’d be slipping in and out of consciousness, up until the point he decides to try sneakily joining you in bed. The attempt does amuse you though.

Although mornings are much different, sometimes you’d wake to find that breathing is harder and you're overheating. Blinking away the sleep you’d look around to find Doom Guy completely lying on top of you. His weight is fully over you, like a weighted blanket, his legs are sprawled all over yours and his arms are tucked firmly against your back. Like you’re a life-sized teddy bear for this giant furnace of a man. You’d be unable to move out from under him until he wakes and moves himself.

You did try once- with a wheeze, you had tried to sneakily crawl out from under him, only for his arms to tighten around you in a vice grip. Holding you still underneath him. Like someone is trying to steal you away instead of you trying to preserve your body temperature and freedom. Chest to chest, you’d hear a grunt and feel it vibrate deep behind his ribs, which is currently crushing yours.

That escape attempt ended fairly quickly.

Your hand runs through his hair to the back of his nape, playing with the short hairs there. Seriously, why is this man's hair so soft? 

You'd think wearing a helmet all the time would be cause for some damaged hair, maybe some helmet hair- having it be flat pressed up against all that padding and wires inside- but no. When he took it off- his hair would always be fluffy, not messed up in the slightest, it made you kind of jealous.

You run your fingers through his hair, dragging your fingernails lightly over his scalp, which gets you a shiver. So, you keep doing that.

This bed is nice, where you can lie and rest together. Even if you're not sure if he really sleeps. Being able to feel his warmth and the movement of his chest as he breathes relaxes you, you hope it does the same for him, he needs it.

Moments like this- are far in between with him going out to slay demons and you working.

You move a hand down to his back, continuing to massage the muscles there. You feel the Slayer shift, then a hand travels up behind you, his hand slides up and down your back, returning the gesture. It's soft and appreciated, especially from such a man. Dipping your head down, you plant a soft kiss to the top of his head, and his hair tickles your nose. You love that he feels comfortable enough to be gentle with you, well- he’s naturally gentle with humans. This time with him feels extra special because he chooses to let down his walls and rest with you. Even if he doesn't really need sleep. He pulls you impossibly closer into his chest.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

(Gender neutral reader)

Dumb little hypothetical, so in the modern Doom games there's the toy collectables, right? Little toys of the Slayer himself, Serrat, and enemies you fight throughout the games. Not really explained how or why they are there yet Slayer interacts with them and even has them displayed in his room in Eternal. But they're all based on like real things and people in his world and he collects them.

So... does that mean you the Reader (or self insert character) also get one? What circumstance or puzzle does he have to solve to get yours? Once he brings it home does he set yours next to his? Does he make the toy versions of you two kiss? Like barbies? Does he get super embarrassed and tries to hide them once when you catch him doing so?

Asking very important questions here.

Doom Masterlist (click)

[vladr2566]

Pt2! Of Doom slayer head cannons NSFW edition



• Large and very girthy

•starts off slow and gentle, he holds back out of fear of hurting his partner

•mostly doms and tops, doms and bottoms as well kind vocal, grunts and groans

• very rarely submissive but when he is he is very vocal, moans when his partner dominates him

• loves it when you call him by his name not his nickname but his real name, Flynn

• the god of after care, he would run his partner a hot bath and join them, give them massages and makes them meals and cuddles, if out on the field he would clean his partner up with wet wipes/baby wipes

• very handsy and love fore play. Ass, thighs, brest (if his partner has any) he loves grabbing and fondling around

• oral, he loves to go down on his partner and loved it when his partner goes down on him

• loved picking up his partner and fucking them especially against a wall

• praise, he loves getting and giving praise

• possessive, but not like in a crazy jealous type way. But he will make it clear that his partner belongs to him and will protect them from anything

• marking, he will leave his partner’s neck, chest, and thighs covered in hickys

• he listens to his partner, if they say no, he will respect them and not bother them about it, he respects consent and his partner decisions and they do the same because consent is the most import thing when it comes to sex and also respect 

[melodicmel]

Currently writing for Apotelesma and this was a thought between my OC Angel and Slayer, but this could be used for Slayer x Reader HCs or Fics

But the thought of the Slayer having to carry you throughout the Martian base because of the insane infrastructure is quite funny to me. He doesn't complain no, why would he? You practically weigh nothing when he's carrying tons of weapons and has heavy ass armor weighing down and yet he zooms all over the place like if he plays professional tag bro LMAO. Now when you get to the Argent tower to deal with Olivia you get notified about Thrust boots and now the Slayer's sad because he can't have an excuse to carry you from place to place now that you have the boots :(

He's nearly hovering and looking if you want help jumping place to place because he can totally carry you if you're tired you know. No big deal for him 😋 please let him carry you.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you do doom headcanons for a demon reader, that for some reason is too kind? Smiles too much, too gentle, doesn't fight, etc. Just an oddball pacifist demon in the gorefest that is the Doom universe.

Either x the slayer himself, or your favorite demon.

Oh yippee first doom request! I'll write the Slayer himself

.........

In all his years of killing demons, Slayer never thought he'd come across one who somehow didn't lose 100% of their humanity.

But he spots you among the remains of his slain enemies, although you weren't his priority target as a Tyrant was currently backing him into a corner.

He was running out of ammo and options, his chainsaw being useless against the giant.

Much to his surprise, he saw you actually getting rid of the demonic barrier that kept him trapped, but he made a mad dash for the ammo stocks he previously couldn't reach, finishing the Tyrant off for good.

You were lucky not to get sprayed with bullets of lead/energy, although knowing the Slayer..you knew he wasn't going to just say "thank you" and let you go so easily.

Fortunately, you're one of the higher-ranked demons who retained some emotional intelligence, and you tried assuring him that you won't harm him.

Your smile isn't very comforting, but you still mean well.

He spares you, surprisingly, but you're on extremely thin ice.

Plus Samuel wants you alive for "study", as he's never seen a demon who can still feel things like empathy and kindness.

Things only humans with souls could feel.

Clearly something must've gone wrong in the extraction process, as it seems a piece of your soul remained with you, even as a demon.

Regardless, you'll be staying in the Fortress of Doom for the most part, but if the Slayer decides to let you come on a mission, you just help him find secret areas and bring him ammo.

You don't kill any demons yourself--although you do like to instigate infighting between them (and maybe "accidentally" push explosive barrels near them).

It's not much, but it's enough to not raise any suspicions of you being a traitor.

It also assures the Slayer that you're not just standing by idly watching your species destroy the planet.

You still saw Earth as your world, too.

If you do get any cybernetic implants, they're simply for cosmetic reasons (so he doesn't accidentally shoot you mid-mission), although if you have any extra powers, VEGA will ensure that they're all enhanced.

You keep reminding him that you've never killed with them, but he insists they'll be useful to you anyways.

[0bananadog0]

Doom and a rabbit

This is just me rambling about my DOOM oc Hare and how I’be personally would have wrote him as a character into the games. Fanfic/ backstory for hare would I call it oc x canon? No not really

<- More Hare content

Words: 850

Mentions of starvation and viscera

————————————————————————

Hase started out working for the UAC. Young and really nothing to guide his life he voluter as a test subject for a cryo sleep program, gets to sleep for a couple of years then get paid a lot of money? Easy money. So he gets sent to mars where the testing takes place. Once on base he gets settled along with the other volunteers once bumping into one of the marines stationed on the base, the guy seemed rather upset at being there, either way He apologized and moved on with his day.

Soon the day comes, he’s nervous of course being the first batch of test subjects but the research’s say they have had great successes with testing on other mammals. Hase get settled into his pod and closes his eyes praying he’ll open them again.

Reports had been coming in about vital supply chains being disrupted. In a war like this Thira and the rest of the sentinels can’t afford something like this. Previous attempts had been made trying to catch the perpetrator with no luck. With seemingly a small moment to breathe Thira sends the slayer out with a small squad, they manage to track them down to a local taverns in one of the larger cities nearby that has yet to be destroyed.

Once stepping inside the place was rather full, men and women alike trying to keep morale up by drinking, talking and singing. At first the place quieted down, the once cheery laughter hunkering down to a whisper as the slayer stepped in. The mass stared at him as he moved between the tables but just as he had left the door the sound of feet against hard stone smattered the door flying open as someone took off. He had found his target. The air was cold, filled with the threat of rain as the slayer sprinted after the man, typically this wouldn’t have been an issue if it not for the tight labyrinthine corridors circling around them. Right As he was about to grasp the man’s cloak the man seemed to slip right into another tighter passage forcing the slayer to find another way around. The chase wore on till the man that felt like suddenly just disappeared into the crowd. His breathing was heavy as the voice of one of the sentinels rang out in his helmet ”the Hare escaped again.” The informed Thira.

The sounds of the slayers footsteps echoed in the empty hallways he walked through. New reports had come in of what the sentinels described as ”an alien structure” they had just discovered no to long ago. The structure wasn’t Alien, he knew these halls. It was a piece of the Base on mars, never in a million life times had he wanted to walk through those halls again but here he was, not so carefully stepping over corpses as he found a part of the wing he had never had accessory before. The door was half open, the automatic function long gone broken. He took a step into the room, just like everywhere else the floor was littered in carnage that however was the least interesting thing in this room. The walls were lined with pods, each and everyone broken besides one who just seemed to have a crack in it, next to the pod seemed to have been information written down beside them most of it missing beside one that seemed relatively clean. The only readable information being a serial number: PCN-01-05

Thira lets out a sigh in relief, they had finally caught the Hare after 2 years of cat and mouse. She watched as he got escorted out of the room by two guards, the cloaks he usually wears now gone from him revealing the hollow form underneath. The man struggles as they pass the slayer, the man screams and yells at the guards in a language that sounds familiar to him but he can’t place his finger on it, before they know Hare frees himself and take of sprinting for his life like a mad man the guards and the slayer take chase. Just like before the man uses his size to weave his way future away from his pressures in the process somehow knocking the slayer out.

The place he finds himself in is cold, damp. The sound of water dripping down onto the stone floor mixed with the scurrying of small paws all around him. Groggily the slayer opens his eyes only to be met by a couple of thousand staring back at him. Rats. Giant fucking sewer rats. The rats suddenly stop as he hears footsteps approaching from behind, soon the man comes into view half dressed, his spine and ribs poking out of him. Signs of starvation. He lets his eyes travel upward and in the nape of the man’s neck he finds it: PCN-01-05.

He looks at the slayer, an uneasy smile twitching on his lips seemingly deciding whether or not to speak. ”What?” He asks getting face to face with the slayer. ”stop staring at me like that.”

[allsaiint]

↠ doom slayer/reader

↠ word count: 3200

↠ masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

↠ description: while you had heard tales of the doom slayer's unrelenting rage and power, it was a different story when you witnessed it first hand.

↠ warnings: gratuitous butchering of canon | reader has physcial description for specific plot reasons but is otherwise neutral | feminine pronouns | descriptions of blood, gore, and violence | slayer finally doesn't try to shoot you... though he does threaten to

↠ author’s notes: more or less just a filler chapter to get to the next arc. reminder, as if the warnings aren't enough (sometimes they aren't) that i am dismantling canon bc i can and bc it fits the idea better. if two warnings aren't enough for you, you're a lost cause. as always, an ao3 link is on the masterlist. in reference to the chapter title: yes, yes i had to.

“What,” you groaned once you had picked yourself up off of the floor, “the fuck was that?”

That being the flashes of Hell that had been forced into your brain when the slayer unlocked the Helix Stone from its confinement. It had been confusing at best, full of flickering red flames and sandstone and, most prominent, the hilt of a large sword made of bone. Its eyes had been alive with the fires of Hell, if one was feeling poetic. You were not, truth be told.

It was Hayden that answered, though you got the sense it was more out of convenience than an actual interest in giving you one. His excitement was a little too palpable when he said, “The Crucible. That’s what Olivia was after. Vega, do you have the location?”

“I do, Dr. Hayden. Transmitting now. The signal is showing it to be in the Great Steppe— the Titan’s realm. You will need another Argent Accumulator, however, and the only one left in this sector is in Specimen CD597.”

“Woah, woah, wait,” you said, throwing your hands up. The instant that the A.I. listed the numbers, cold anxiety spilled down your spine. “Specimen CF597? The Cyberdemon?”

An Argent Accumulator was a cylinder made of a heat resistant alloy mined from another planet outside of the solar system. Inside of it was a refined version of something known as Argent Energy, which the facility pumped from the Argent Fracture. While the UAC told humanity that Argent Energy was just plasma found beneath the surface of Mars, the truth was much darker. Argent Plasma, before it became energy, was the source of power that kept the Hell realm functioning. No one had yet discovered how it was made— or at least, no one had informed you. You only learned of it after having been reassigned to the Lazarus Complex, and the knowledge had rocked not once, but twice now that the memory resurfaced thanks to Vega.

The Argent Accumulator that Vega was specifically referring to was in the chest of the biggest, most volatile demon in containment on the entire planet. During the Second Manned Lazarus Expedition into the Great Steppe, the teams came upon the petrified remains of a massive Titan that later research revealed to be an ancient Baalgar demon. Corrax tablets— the name given to the written history of the demons by the demons— suggested that the Baalgar demons were once Shadow Lords, a high rank amongst demonic ‘nobles’. 

Upon being brought back, experiments began on the remains. It was soon discovered that, upon exposing them to small doses of Argent Energy, the flesh would respond and grow. From what you knew, the scientists began to meld cybernetic technology into the slowly regrowing demon. You were unsure of the finer technicalities behind it, but somehow— and for some reason— they gave the demon the ability to control the Argent Accumulator they implanted in its chest. This gave it the ability to administer Argent Energy to itself as needed but, as expected, they lost control of it. When they allowed it to awaken, it went on a rampage in the lower sector, and they were forced to contain it in holding cell 6— the only one large enough and strong enough to contain it. 

“That is correct,” Vega  answered as the slayer pulled you along behind him. “I have uploaded its coordinates to you.”

“Once you have extracted the accumulator, it should become unstable enough to send you back to their world.” That was Hayden, who sounded unconcerned by any and all of what they had just found out. “We can control your point of entry with the tether system in your suit, and extract you once you have retrieved the Crucible. I must insist, however, that you leave her  out of it—”

Whatever other objections he had were cut off by the obnoxious klaxon of the warning system. A too calm female voice came over the intercom, announcing that a lockdown was in effect due to an extremely high demonic presence, which preceded the actual appearance of the demons by milliseconds.

Figuring that it was as good a time as any to make yourself scarce, you ducked the volley of fireballs cast by Imps in your, but more specifically the slayer’s, direction. Slipping and sliding on their entrails as he cleaned house with nothing but a shotgun, you threw yourself into the relative safety of an overhang, tucking into a corner made by the wall and the staircase. 

The Imps, you came to learn, were just the appetizer, keeping the slayer occupied until the larger demons could make their way through portals. At first it was a handful of Hell Knights, their thunderous steps overpowering the rapid fire of the heavy assault rifle the slayer utilized against them. The cacophony would have been aggravating to begin with, but coupled with the fact that you were overwhelmed by— just about everything, it was all you could do to watch the devastation unfold.

You shrieked when the obliterated pieces of a Hell Knight corpse splattered to the floor from over the railing, following on the heels of an electrical warping sound. The slayer himself appeared right after, and the impact of 350 lbs of metal clad man on a metal floor was  thunderously deafening. Your head, already spinning from the chaos happening, positively vibrated when he landed. The entire room swirled, the lights of Argent Energy and Plasma and fireballs and bullets all spiralling into one another until you were unable to tell where any of it began or ended.

When the Mancubus demons showed up next, you knew right away. The putrid stench they carried with them, whether it was their own rotting flesh or that of their consumed victims, was recognizable from miles away. Being so close forced you to lean over to dry heave for the second time in less than four hours. There was nothing left, not even bile to come up, but that never stopped your stomach from trying. The smell only grew worse when the slayer took the first one down. You had the luck of witnessing it explode first hand with a well aimed shot from the Gauss Cannon. The superheated plasma tore through the poor stitching that held its stomach together. The flesh inside ignited, dousing the slayer and the surrounding demons in a layer of its acidic bile. While the armor he wore was untouched, the Imps that had the unfortunate pleasure of being covered began to melt almost right away. The same would have happened to you if you had hid anywhere besides under the balcony overhand, but you watched it splatter at your feet to eat holes in the thin metal.

Without skipping a beat, a second Mancubus fired at the slayer from the floor above. The blast sent the slayer sliding back on his heels, through the thick soup of blood and viscera that coated the floor. It rolled down his armor, mixing with the vile concoction that made up the Mancubus’s weapon. Your shriek was drowned out by the powerful explosion that followed, caused by the slayer launching up to the second floor, drawing too close to the Mancubus. The room lit up with orange and a sound like a flamethrower before the slayer reappeared. Where he hit the railing sent him cartwheeling down but you, in spite of your near sheer terror, found yourself impressed that he still managed to land on his feet. As if he had meant to do it, the Gauss Cannon withdrew and a third explosion rent the air. Innards and viscera and unnameable other gunk rained down, adding to the puddles already on the floor. 

It had grown so thick that it began to seep towards you and, faced with the choice of being eaten through with acid or traipsing through the mess, you scrambled to your feet and picked your way around the portions of flooring that had been eaten through.

“Damn, but you are terrifying,” you said upon reaching the slayer. The level of carnage he had left in the Archive Room was on par with the mess the cultists had left in the rest of the complex. Splatters reached all the way to the ceiling and had coated the Helix Stone so thoroughly it was reduced to illegibility. It was impressive.

In response, the slayer grunted. With the muzzle of his still hot shotgun, he nudged you in the back, indicating you walk ahead of him. A staircase was opening around the stone’s display case but, at the top, you came to a stop.

“Woah, woah, wait, I just remembered something,” you said, throwing your hands out to rebalance where the slayer had almost knocked you down them anyway. “Did you find the weapons development lab?”

A hand landed on your shoulder, and you found yourself jerked around. The slayer was glaring at you , eyes narrowed, before they cut to his shotgun.

“If I may,” Vega said, attempting at delicacy, “I believe he means, Why do you ask? As far as we have discovered, he is incapable of speech.”

You clicked your tongue. “I ask because, if you’re going to face the Cyberdemon then dive into Hell, and insist on dragging me along, then I would like to give me the best odds of escaping again. Vega, the BFG is still in containment, right?”

The A.I. made a noise of understanding. “Most prudent. It is indeed still in the development lab in the Advanced Research Complex.”

“All the way upstairs,” you murmured, cupping your chin. “What’s the status of the tram topside?”

“All power has been diverted from non-essentials. The tram is one of them. I can divert power from the elevators, but you will need a clearance keycard—”

“Vega, please, remember who you’re talking to. Bypassing the system would be much faster than looking for whatever shambling corpse has the damn card.” You paused to scan the slayer up and down. “I know you don’t trust me because I look like a demon, but I really do just want to help. Do you want to go up and get this gun or carry on? The longer the portal is open, the harder it’ll be to close, but I’ve heard horror stories about what’s in the Steppe. It might be worth backtracking.”

You could see his eyes narrow in what you assumed to be suspicion, but his desire for a really big fucking gun was evidently stronger than his baser instincts. With the shotgun, he motioned you onward, back towards the elevator. It was a short, silent, and awkward ride back up. If only you had had elevator music to complete the picture, it would have been perfect.

“It will take me a moment to reroute power,” Vega said once the doors had opened. “The lights will dim, but do not be alarmed.”

The platform was still empty where the slayer had obliterated the demons earlier. Their bodies had been transported back to Hell upon death, but evidence of the battle remained— bloodied bodies and chunks, the blackened evidence of missile strikes on the walls, and the broken door that the slayer had entered the room through that was now demolished in its entirety. He was the true definition of a one man army, and it made you take a closer look at his suit.

“Dr. Hayden’s given you access to the Argent Cells, hasn’t he?”

The slayer turned to you, shoulders stiffening beneath his armor. Considering his hatred for demons, you found it a tad hypocritical that he was using energy mined from Hell to power himself up. Then again, perhaps it was a sort of poetic justice. Regardless and considering you liked your head where it was at, you were keeping any and all opinions to yourself.

Well, except for one.

“It also looks like Dr. Hayden added slots like the Elite Guards have in their armor,” you said, circling around the slayer’s back. “Chips are for security alerts per complex, mostly. They contain maps too, though, and the locations for weapons caches— pretty much in case something like this ever happened. Hey, Vega, how much longer?”

“Still a few minutes more.”

When you beckoned to the slayer after that, you expected more resistance than you got. There was still a healthy amount of suspicion, as evidenced by the way he pointed the shotgun at you before falling into step behind. The doors still hissed in a half-hearted attempt at closing, but the slayer had damaged the hydraulics so thoroughly that electrical sparks showered you as you passed through. 

You led him back up to the laboratory, where the four Mancubus demons that had previously occupied the tables now lay in scattered but no less revolting pieces. In the grand scheme of things, you were happier to be sidestepping a few smelly chunks than skirting around full and lumbering demons.

Just up the steps was a lone table, propped up like it had been holding the Mancubus as a museum exhibit. There was just enough space for the slayer to slip between the table and the railing for the left hand staircase, following you into an unobtrusive alcove. 

“A lot of caches are hidden like this,” you said, pressing on one of the decorative panels in the wall. It popped out and rotated to reveal a code panel, into which you put your own identification number. No one but guards, the head engineers, and the lead scientists were allowed access to them, mostly because no one else had need for what ammunition was hidden inside. The panel disappeared and the wall slid in with a pressurized hiss, then up into the ceiling. “Well, that’s convenient.”

Just inside the door, propped against a crate, was one of the Elite Guards. The pool of blood around him had long since dried, and in his hand was a stun baton. As if that would do any good against anything more than a Possessed.

The slayer moved past you while you crouched, and while you patted at the guard’s vest you heard the clatter of metal on metal. With your fingers pinching the chip, you looked up to find that he had broken the lock off of a crate full of shotgun ammo. Into one of the numerous metal supply pouches that adorned his armor went handfuls of shells, stacked neatly within reach. Next, as you yanked the chip from its slot, the lock on the crate for missiles for the rocket launcher was broken. Those were locked into the belt on his back, a dozen or so along with some mini-missiles off of his hip. 

“Here,” you said, holding the chip out to show him. “I don’t know what this one will give you, if you want me to plug it in. Vega might be able to locate more using the signals, but—”

“I am afraid not. The signals have been corrupted by the Hell Portal’s opening,” the A.I. responded. “You may be able to access them via a security data terminal.”

The slayer handed the chip back to you and, in spite of what you guessed was his better judgement, knelt down so you could reach the designated spot. It was a perfect fit, and the slayer pressed a few buttons on his arm guard before standing. He turned then and stepped into your personal space. Unsure of what to make of it considering everything else so far, you put your hands up as a useless barrier between you, and took a step back. 

“Two pieces of good news,” Vega said, startling you. The slayer had just reached out with one massive hand, up towards your banded horns, but it dropped at the sound of the A.I.’s voice. “One, I have successfully rerouted power to the tram. You need only make it to the lab and back to the tram once you have collected the weapon. Two, the chip you have has the locations of all of the weapons caches within the facility.”

“There’s a security terminal up in the ARC too, in the same area as the BFG,” you said, dragging your thumb across your lip. “In theory, there might be a guard up there as well, considering how important that lab is. Also in theory, if I can find a blank chip or a chip that proves useless to us, I can reprogram it to bounce back the signals from the others.”

“Well, whatever you decide to do, you must hurry. The longer the portal is open—”

“Yeah, well, it won’t do us any good if this guy dies before closing it, so the few extra minutes it’ll take to get the gun should prove worth it, especially against the Cyberdemon— or god forbid we meet a Titan.” You paused, narrowing your eyes at the slayer, who was rummaging through a crate full of grenades. “Remind me why I have to go with you?”

It was Vega that answered, of course, saying, “I believe he distrusts leaving you unguarded. It is fair reasoning, given we do not know how the transformation might effect you the longer it goes on.”

That logic was hard to refute, even if you still disliked it. Then again, who would like being dragged into the depths of hell by a man who was somehow twice as likely to tear their head off as literal demons were? You knew how you felt when you woke up, which had been confused but still human. Even terrified by the slayer and all of the demons, you had never stopped feeling human. Only looking down at your hands reminded you of your new appearance, or when wisps of your white hair fell loose from the tie holding it back. On those occasions, you would push it back with your fingers only to be stymied by the horns twisting up from the center of your skull. 

You returned to the platform to find the tram ready and waiting with the doors open. The slayer stood silent sentry, shotgun propped on his arm while you fiddled with wires and pressed buttons. You could appreciate that he was putting some faith into you and had listened to your suggestions and followed your advice so far. At least this time there was no direct warning, with the barrel of the gun pointing towards the window instead of at your back. 

The power went off with a barely audible click but, before the slayer could begin to think you had betrayed him, it came on once more and the doors began to close. Pressing one last button to get the tram moving, you turned to him and lifted a shoulder.

“Vega rerouted the power, but I had to reroute power away from the key pass in the panel,” you explained, tapping the glass. “Meant turning it off for a sec.”

The slayer stood still for a moment, silent as ever, then grunted.

You supposed, considering Vega failed to elucidate, it was a good sign. 

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