#even if it reads ambiguous to the ones who are still alive there can still be a……… a happy ending for the four of them pls……….. pls………..

[akkivee]

when you rewatch the entirety of the season, you watch chiaro and scuro slowly come into akira and satoru’s individual character quirks, like akira’s weird metaphors that he’s never personally experienced and satoru’s comparatively brighter personality

so it is a different kind of painful to watch akira and satoru die, see them practically reborn as chiaro and scuro only for them to lose their lives again 😭😭😭

[distortedheart]

I read a fanfic which. I normally don't read any except particular random occasions and idc very much. Anyway. It was ~380k words so . Very long. and like it was really well written and fleshed out and I started it expecting to give up chapter 1 but immediately was like uh oh... my problems.. Anyway. I made it through literally all of that and it was heartbreaking and well written and then the ending was just like. Mediocre and unsatisfying. Reading all that for an unsatisfying ending... Well. Okay

[darlingghoulette]

walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya'

Summary: You come across a fun surprise on a supply run and decisions are made to “spice things up” in the bedroom for you and Joel. You fuck about it. That’s the fic. Rated E.

Content tags: crack treated seriously for porny reasons, established relationship, Jackson!Joel, afab!reader, reader has a vagina, no other physical descriptions of reader, no use of y/n, brief discussion of body insecurity, pussy play, pussy pronouns, finger sucking, oral, unprotected p in v, Joel talks you through it because of course he does, excessive use of contractions because Joel is Southern and so am I, ambiguous reader age–she was alive before Outbreak Day so you can do the math however you’d like. I’d still say she’s younger than Joel because the demons in my soul command me to write Older Man Smut. 

Author’s note: this started as a conversation about having a majestic bush in the apocalypse and spiraled into an excuse to write smut. While this is hot, I 100% believe that Joel would want his girl all natural as the good lord intended, but hey, pussy is pussy. Just wanna say: your body is your own, fuck patriarchal standards for body hair. This is just for a lil fun. 

Read on AO3

It starts as a joke. 

You’re clearing an old beauty store on patrol, some old chain business that used to peddle expensive makeup and a million different types of skin care that all essentially do the same thing. It’s not the normal kind of place to look for supplies, but if there was anything you’d learned living through the apocalypse, it was to be resourceful. 

You and Maria had already found a decent haul. Shampoo, acetone, disposable applicators that could be used at the clinic. And no infected growing into the walls to be seen. So far, at least.

All in all, the mood was pretty high. Maria doesn’t patrol much, especially after having the baby, and a calm, successful trip outside of the walls was a welcome one. She’s not technically your sister-in-law, seeing as you and Joel aren’t married, but she’s the closest thing you’ve had to a best friend and sister since the end of the world. 

You’re trading lighthearted conversation as you browse the aisles, nearly ready to call it a day when you see it. 

A medium sized box, dented and dusty. One of those wax melting kits, a little pot with tiny beads of brightly colored wax pellets. You’re already kneeling down to see if all the pieces are still intact when Maria ducks around the corner. 

“All set?” she asks, shooting you an amused look while you dig excitedly into the box. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen one of these?” 

The packaging has certainly seen better days, and the wax beads aren’t nearly as vibrant as they probably once were, but surely wax doesn’t go bad, right? For her part, Maria is regarding the contents warily. 

“Can’t say I’ve had the time to get a wax in the past, hm, twenty years or so. So, probably about that long.” 

It’s almost strange to think about how little things like body hair used to be a huge deal Before. You can remember the first time in middle school you felt embarrassed about how all your friends shaved their legs and you weren’t allowed to. Before you even realized it was just a commonly accepted societal norm and not worth the huge drag out with your mom who had bigger things on her plate than her kid’s race to puberty. 

Stupid shit like that stopped being important…well, ever, if you think about it, society’s expectations were bullshit and patriarchal by design–but especially after the world ended. 

“We should try it.” you joke, even though something about the idea is actually tempting. 

“I’m alright, thanks.” 

“Come on,” You’re already imagining wrangling it into your saddlebags. “It could be fun! The guys are out helping with the dam maintenance until tomorrow, we could have a girls night! Movies, wine, torture for the sake of beauty. The full ritual, you know?” 

“I’m with you for the rest of it, but I’ve made peace with my legs how they are.” You hadn’t necessarily had your legs in mind. 

Maria, genius that she is, correctly interprets the wicked grin curling your lips up slowly without you even having to say anything.

She snorts, amused, but in a way that’s absolutely laughing at you instead of with you. She’s good at that. “No.” 

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” you defend, but she’s already shaking her head. 

“I’m not taking you to the clinic after you rip off something important giving yourself a Brazilian with a 20 year old kit.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at her. “Now who’s being dramatic? It’s not a rusty razor blade. It’s wax, Maria. I’ve just…you know. Never done that, even Before. And I’m sure it would be even safer with more hands helping…” 

“Ask someone else then.” 

“Like who? You’re the only person I’d trust. And really the only person I have besides the 15 year old whose dad I’m currently seeing, and we just got her to the point of somewhat tolerating our relationship, I’d really rather not jeopardize that.” 

The image of what a disaster that would be makes you both laugh, but there’s enough truth in the statement that you feel a twist of embarrassment at even the thought. Absolutely not.

“Besides,” you say, faux-innocence dripping from your tone. “Might be a fun surprise for Tommy. Spice things up after the baby?” 

The look Maria directs at you is flat and unimpressed, but you can tell she’s not actually annoyed. In fact, there’s a glimmer of something sharp in her eye that tells you she might actually be entertaining the idea. “We don’t need things spiced up, we’re doing just fine, thank you.”

Your nose wrinkles a little at that, you may have brought it up first, but that’s your not-brother-in-law she’s talking about fucking–

“But,” she continues on before your face interrupts her anymore. For a few beats, anticipation hangs heavy between you in the dilapidated store.

“But?” 

The pursed seal of her lips eases into a grin, mischievous and matching your own. 

“But it might be fun to see the stuck dumb look on his face if I sprung this on him.” 

You let out a sharp bark of laughter, imagining your own Miller with a similar reaction. Yeah, this thing is definitely coming home with you. Just in case, you know? 

*****

For the millionth time in the last hour, you shift awkwardly on the couch. 

It’s the next day after your patrol shift with Maria. The ensuing girls night you’d had turned into more of a get tipsy on the Bison’s good whiskey and goof the hell off night. It was good to see your friend so relaxed, you thought, she stayed so busy and stressed keeping the town safe and secure. A rare cutting loose was called for.. 

It just so happened that the liquor in your system also made the mysterious box you smuggled from the supply run a whole lot more appealing. 

It was a whole ordeal, including cursing, awkward stops and starts, and more drinks than was probably smart for people your age. Thankfully, Maria was more familiar with the whole process and did most of the legwork. Not the most comfortable or glamorous passtime, and you got to know each other in ways that you certainly hadn’t expected, but the results at the end…

You cross your legs again, the sensation of your clothes on bare skin is novel when you change positions. It was stupid, and way more painful than you’d expected. Something fueled by drunk decisions and committing to the bit for laughs, but you can’t deny…it feels kind of nice? Different. But nice. 

Still, in the light of day, a new anxiety is popping out after your rash choice to go all beauty-school dropout.

The sun has sunk deep into the mountains, throwing those picturesque oranges and pinks across the Wyoming sky. 

Joel’s due home from his overnight trip to the dam any time now. 

Leftovers you’d snagged from the dining hall are keeping warm for him in the oven. There were no dishes to wash since you’d chosen to spare him the fate of choking down something you’d thrown together. (And he would have, the kind hearted fool. You’re not the best cook, but he insists on eating whatever you make while you attempt to learn.) 

The book you’re reading hasn’t progressed a single page, you keep picking it up and putting it down without retaining anything, your mind too caught up in its spiral.

What if he hates it? 

Of course, it’s a stupid thought. You know he’s not the kind of person who would judge you for something small like this. Sure, it’s not how he’s seen you since you both got together. But some guys go crazy for this, right? It used to be the preferred style for some people, back in the day. Even if it’s not his, it’s just fucking hair. It’ll grow back. He’s told you over and over that he’d love you no matter how you looked, and more than that his actions speak for himself. He’s literally seen you crouched over a toilet and ralphing your guts out. He’s seen you at every worst you’ve had in the last five years and is still there. In comparison, this is such a laughable insecurity. 

What if he thinks exactly that, though? It’s not a dealbreaker, but what if he laughs at you, what if he thinks it’s stupid and childish and you’re trying too hard, what if he hates it, or what if–

The sound of the front door opening interrupts your–admittedly silly–crashout. 

“Baby?” he calls out from where you can hear him shucking off his work boots, starting the familiar routine of sloughing off the outside world for the comforts of home. 

“Living room!”

Before you can quite go back to riling yourself up, he’s behind you, curling down over the back of the couch to kiss you hello on the slope of your neck. Your head leans backwards, craning up at him above you.  

His presence is like a balm, you can feel the smile growing on your lips while you take in the soft look he’s gifting you in return. 

He’s ruffled, hair a mess from the blowing wind outside; the scent of horse and woodsmoke and sweat rolling off of him. It never fails that fresh-off-work Joel just drives you absolutely up a wall. There’s something so masculine and protective and natural about him when he comes home like this that makes you want to just jump his bones as soon as he walks in the door some days. 

Today’s no different. 

“Have a good weekend, darlin’?” He’s leaned down further now, grunting just a little at the probable murder its doing on his back, to kiss you on the forehead. It makes you huff a soft breath of a laugh out of your nose.

“Better now, but yeah, it was pretty good. Dinner’s in the oven.” you hum, watching him straighten back up and start shedding his coat. “If you wanna take a shower first, I’ll get you a plate.” 

He kisses you again in thanks, a soft peck to your temple, a large palm coming to cradle your jaw briefly to press you into the contact. It’s intimate despite being so tame, a gesture that makes something deep in your bones melt better than any on-TV passionate romcom kiss ever could. This is real and warm, and makes you feel incredibly silly recalling your anxiety from just a couple minutes ago. 

*****

It’s only after you’re both set up at the kitchen table that the anxiety and anticipation begins to creep back in, Joel fresh from his shower in sweatpants, you with your feet propped in his lap with a cup of tea while he eats his late dinner. 

He’s telling you about the maintenance at the dam, how the group of workers had a disagreement on how to set up the factory to better prepare for the Spring storms that’ll move through soon. And you’re listening, really, you are. Nodding along when it’s needed, adding commentary when the conversation lulls. It’s just…

You can’t help shifting in your seat occasionally, or shooting him quick glances, wondering about his reaction. It’s getting you all twisted up again, and you’re trying to decide when will be the best time to bring it up. You’re nearly bursting with it, ready to pop and just get it over with already and–

“Alright,” Joel sets down his fork. “What’d she do?” 

You blink, brought short by the sudden change in conversation. “Huh?” 

“What’d she do?” 

“I’m not following.” 

Joel looks at you, a deadpan expression on his face, one brow raised and–Oh, no, that’s his dad detective face. 

“You’re over there squirmin’ like a sinner in church and you can barely meet my eye. If it was something you did, you’d have broken by now because you can’t keep a secret for shit. Which brings me to thinkin’ Ellie pulled some kinda fool stunt and you’re trying like hell to cover for her.” he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up into an amused and exasperated expression. “I went by the garage first thing when I got back into town and didn’t notice anything, but she’s gettin’ better at being a normal sneaky teenager. So, what’d I miss?” 

You can’t help it, that breaks you. You laugh, spine uncurling from its ramrod position. He always finds a way to break you out of your spiral. Even if he’s a little off the money, there’s something about the fact that he’s so attentive to your moods that releases the balloon of tension that’d been growing in your chest for most of the day.

During your giggle fit, Joel just smiles at you, pleased to have unfurled the little wrinkle you get between your brows when you’re really stewing on something. The meal mostly done and forgotten, his hands move to massage your socked feet in his lap, tugging playfully.

“Nothing happened, but it’s cute how you think you could get me to snitch on her,” You snicker, kicking one foot out to gently bump into his stomach. “She knows where I sleep and I’m more scared of her than I am of you.” 

He laughs, mumbling a that’s probably smart under his breath before trying to weasel more answers out of you.

“Alright, if it ain’t that, then what is it?” 

“I have no idea what you mean,” you sniff. 

“Baby.” 

His tone is low and coaxing, only meant to prompt the issue out of you, but it has the effect of kindling embers in your stomach. He sits there with his broad shoulders and tousled curls fresh from the shower, hands doing magic on the muscles of your feet, oblivious for all the world that he’s just about the most attractive image of a man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

You sink a little further into your chair, using the foot that’s not currently in his grasp to rub along his thigh. Something in his eyes immediately darkens. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

Taking the opportunity where it’s given, his hand slips further up your calf, fingers just barely brushing the tender skin at the crook of your knee, fully exposed for him in the pajama shorts you’re sporting. 

“Don’t gotta surprise me, don’t need nothin’. Got everything I want right here.” 

You grin. “What if I’m part of the surprise?” 

He was already looking at you before, but the way his eyes rake over you now? It’s heavy, taking you in like the only water in a desert. As much as his gaze feels like a physical thing, you’d much prefer his hands. It’s that want that has you lining up the final shot. 

“I mean, unless you’re too tired from your trip. That would be fine, honest, it can wait until–” 

You’re cut off with a delighted shriek when he stands and snatches you up from your chair, leftovers forgotten on the table as a problem for tomorrow. 

Head still spinning from the rapid change in scenery, it takes you a second to recognize that he’s headed straight upstairs. He’s on a singular mission, as made clear by the clever hand on your ass that’s not just to keep you supported in his arms. 

Joel may be older than you, but goddamn, you always forget how fucking strong he is. 

The buttons of his flannel are irritatingly done up and your fingers are trying to get the stubborn bastard things open when he makes it to your bedroom and drops you to the mattress with a squeak. You barely have time to get your bearings back from the impact before he’s pressing down on top of you. 

“Missed you so much last night,” he offers, already pressing hot kisses to your neck, your collarbone, pulling at the stretched neckline of a shirt that’s his anyway. 

You nod rapidly in agreement, nerves fizzling with electricity before he even touches you. It’s always been like this. The easy, syrupy intimacy of everyday life that can snap on a dime, dropping you both into urgency and need like you’ve never felt before. And, indeed, you need him to fuck you already before you go out of your mind. 

In a dance that’s as instinctual as breathing, your legs wrap around him. Your hips undulate up into his so you can feel where he’s hard and just as desperate.

Joel pulls back to hover above you. One hand palmed around the back of your neck, tilting you to look up at him. Guiding you where he wants you. “What do you need, baby?”

You lick your bottom lip, brain catching up to his words. His eyes dart down to your mouth. 

“I-I want–” you start, breathlessly, but he cuts you off with a click of his tongue. 

“Don’t think I asked what you wanted, sweet girl,” he hums, thumb resting on your chin and pulling it down. Gentle pressure, you could absolutely break away if you wanted to, but you follow his lead, sucking the appendage into your mouth. “Asked what you needed.”

You try to get the word “you” out around your mouthful, and you must do a good enough job that it earns you a kiss to the forehead, a move that might feel out of place to anyone else, but it’s so protective and possessive and him it makes you want to fucking writhe to release the pressure between your legs. 

The slick sound of his thumb when he pulls it from you draws a sharp whine from your chest and he shushes you, hands dragging down and down and down your sides, coming to rest on your hips. Something about that wriggles in the back of your head, like there was something you were supposed to be doing here, but you’re way too caught up to remember.

“It’s alright. I gotcha, baby,” Joel says, heated and soft in his low drawl, and then he’s sliding your shorts down your hips. Hands sure and practiced, expert at playing you like a goddamn fiddle. Lips laying scalding, sucking kisses from the crook of your knee to the inside of your thigh as he eases your legs open and–

Stops. 

It takes a couple of seconds for you to realize that he’s not just pausing for anticipation. He’s full on halted down there, one of your legs still hiked up in his palm, staring down at you like…Well. 

You think the term Maria used was struck dumb.

You bite your lip to keep the laughter contained. It’s not very successful, because his eyes snap back up to your face after a snort sneaks out against your will. 

There are lots of sexier ways you could play this, probably, but you settle on grinning up at him. 

“Surprise?” 

The sound he lets out is more of a sharp exhalation of breath than anything, like it was kicked out of him. You think you hear a goddamn tacked on the end there, but it’s quiet.

“What prompted this?” he asks when his words find him again, eyes dropped back down to take in the sight. 

“Felt like a change,” you mumble, losing some of your previous steam. You can give him the whole story later, but despite being used to him seeing you all kinds of ways, something about direct eye contact with your pussy makes you wriggle uncomfortably. 

“You, uh. You like it?” You’re starting to feel that anxiety creep back in, especially since he hasn’t confirmed or denied, or said much of fucking anything to give you a clue yet.  

Something in your tone must give that away, because you can almost see him mentally shake himself–systems coming back online, you think to yourself. The next time his eyes catch yours, it makes your stomach go molten. 

“Like it?” he echoes. His fingers have started exploring, petting down your soft skin. Even just the gentlest touch is like a livewire, makes your entire body clench, and he huffs out a soft laugh. “More’n like it, you are…Christ.” 

He’s lowered your knee over his shoulder now, using both hands to make you lightheaded without actually touching where you want him.

“She’s so pretty, baby,” he coos at you, making you moan even louder when he caresses the tender skin on either side of your cunt. “You make her all pretty just for me?” 

You nod, words a knot in your throat. 

“She’s always pretty, though.” You can feel the hot breath closer now, mouth hovering just above where your nerves are on fire. The sensation has your hand snapping down and threading into his hair with a keening whine. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, an’ all mine.” 

And then he’s eating at you like a man starved. 

He’s always been enthusiastic when it comes to your pleasure, but like this everything feels heightened, sensitive beyond measure. His nose bumps your clit and your vision whites out.. 

His tongue is not just bullying inside you every few strokes, it’s licking at the soft, smooth skin wherever he can touch. He sets his teeth to gently drag across one of your folds and it sends you nearly howling with it, the pressure in your core ratcheting up so high that you feel yourself hurtling to the edge impossibly fast. Joel knows it, too. He knows your body better than anything else on earth. 

“That’s it,” When he pulls back, it’s only with scant inches between you still, dipping back in to lay kiss after kiss on your heated flesh between words, like he can’t stand to pull himself away. Two of his fingers take the place of his tongue, crooking up inside you exactly where he knows drives you crazy and thrusting. Fucking you through it with every trick he knows drives you right to the peak. 

“Good girl, take what you need, alright? Give it to me, baby, I got ya’,” 

You can’t do anything but comply. Chest heaving, crying out with your orgasm as he eases you down as effectively as he built you up, kissing around your clit because he knows the stimulation can be too much directly after.

You don’t even wait to get your breath back before you’re using the grasp you still have on his hair to yank him up to your mouth. 

He tastes like you. 

It’s your favorite thing to taste on him. 

Down below, past where his fingers are still petting at you, he’s grinding into the bed, trying to relieve the pressure where he’s straining against the seams of his sweatpants. The sight of it knocks enough sense back into you to start tugging at his clothes with urgency once more. It must amuse him greatly judging by the look he gives you. 

“Need something?” he asks, but smart man that he is, he’s already joining in to help you shove his clothes away, your hands too shaky from the mind-shattering orgasm still. “Got another one in you?”

“You gonna keep asking stupid questions?” you pant, and it makes him bark out a delighted laugh, genuine and deep, and it has you grinning in response, always secretly pleased when you make him laugh. 

It’s a practiced dance between you both; getting him undressed to match you, taking playful nips at the newly uncovered skin within reach, getting distracted by long periods of kissing until you’re so keyed up again that all you can do is pant against his mouth while he teases you. 

He’s slowly rubbing the head of his cock against your soft folds, a slick slide that echoes wetly in the room and it’s so fucking obscene you could vibrate out of your own skin. 

Up and down.

Up and down. 

Coating himself in you and…just feeling. Playing with you. Enjoying his surprise. You let out a whine, impatient and beyond your limits. 

“S’it feel good?” he’s toying with you, stroking along your skin everywhere except where you need him. He nudges against your clit and the shocky, overwhelming zip of it rocks a gasp from your chest that he must like the sound of because he does it again, hungry for it. 

“You didn’t answer me earlier, you think she’s got another one for me?” 

You’ve dissolved down to only nerve endings, too wound up to do much in response but grind up against him. 

“Feels so good, so soft and sweet f’me,” he groans, the head pressing in just that little bit, barely there, only needing just that little bit more pressure to pop past the resistance and into your body. “Why don’t you feel, baby? Reach down here and guide me in, feel how nice we feel together,” 

He grabs your hand, pulling it down between your bodies, grunting when you grip around him. It’s so slick and hot, a combination of the two of you that makes your stomach clench in anticipation. You try to guide him right in, desperate to feel him inside of you, but he resists.

“Slow, baby, slow, there we go,” It’s agonizingly drawn out, but he sinks into you finally, the position you’re in–one of his hands under the small of your back to tilt you up to him, your knees locked around him–combined with the glacial pace makes it feel so intense and fucking deep that you’re sucking in great lungfulls of air to keep from floating away. “Theeere we go, atta girl. Always take it so well,” he murmurs, breathless himself, shoulders tense. 

He’s petting along your side with his free hand, gentling you like a goddamn horse, and fuck does it make your eyes roll back. With anyone else it would probably feel condescending. With Joel it just makes you want to slam your hips down into him even more, get him to move already. 

He finally does draw back, right before slamming forward again and stealing all of the hard-won breath from your chest. 

Time is lost after that. A haze of slapping skin and moans. 

He adjusts his grip on you, both hands coming to rest on your hips to physically pull you into the force of his thrusts, propping you up and up until–

“Fuck!”

He hits that spot inside of you that makes your entire body jolt with electricity, and he grins, boyish and cocky. 

“There she is,” he’s relentless, angled perfectly to make you lose your mind, thumb coming up to rub perfect, tight circles over your clit in time with his strokes. “I’ve got you, baby, gonna let go for me?” 

Already keyed up and sensitive from your peak earlier, the overstimulation is tortuous and so, so good, already hurtling you towards another that you know he can feel impending by the way you’re tightening around him. 

You’re trying to hold on, drawing out the pleasure curling at the base of your spine, but he drops down, hips never stopping, thumb still a maddening pressure on your clit, and he bites at your chest. 

His breath is scorching hot and wet on your skin as he groans “such a good fuckin’ girl, fuckin’ come on my cock baby, s’all yours,” and he bites down on a peaked, puffy nipple. 

Your second orgasm of the night rocks through you, the force of it startling, your fingernails making deep grooves in Joel’s back as you ride through it. 

He’s cursing and holding you to him, hips stuttering with your cunt gripping him so tightly. Your end tumbles him into his own, emptying into you and fucking his come deeper on instinct. 

The room is silent except for your combined breaths as you both come down. 

There’s a pleasant buzzing in your limbs, a humming in the back of your mind as it comes back to the awareness that you still have a rather large man resting on top of you and that your lungs would quite like it if they could inflate all the way. 

You tap Joel’s shoulder and he adjusts, sweat-sticky skin peeling from you to move to the side. It’s not as gross to you as it maybe could be. You think that’s what love might be. 

He’s no sooner on his back beside you before you’ve rolled to lay against him, one leg tucked up over his, your chest flattened to his. Like space between you might actually kill you right now in the wake of your high. To his credit, he must feel the same, his palms skimming over your back, your ass, down to your knee and up again in a soothing circuit. 

Soon you’ll need to get up and run a bath. Currently, you cannot think of anything you’d like to do less than move from this spot. 

Joel kisses your hair, then your forehead, across your cheeks, anywhere he can reach, and you hum, absolutely in love with how touchy he gets after a good orgasm. The man may look big and bad outside these walls, but you have his number when it comes to post-coital cuddles. 

It’s because you know him so well that you sense something brewing, his thoughts a little too loud for your liking. “Everything okay?” 

He just hums, working a spot under your jaw with his teeth. 

“Joel.” 

“What?” 

“You’re thinking too hard.” 

“M’not.” 

“You are, I can smell the smoke.” 

He huffs, head dropping back to the pillow. “Cute.” 

“I know,” you pretend to preen, but drop the humor quickly in favor of propping up on an elbow to look at him. He doesn’t seem distressed, but he’s definitely chewing on something. “What is it?” 

His forehead is furrowed a bit, mouth curved to one side in thought. “You just…” 

Your brow raises, prompting. 

“You didn’t do all that,” he gestures at your lower half propped against him. “Just for me, did you?” 

You snort. “Didn’t hear you complaining about it a minute ago.”

He rolls his eyes. “I ain’t complaining, I’m just saying.” 

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tease again, maybe even get a little defensive as the nerves from before try to sink back in, but you refrain. You can see in his expression that he’s serious, trying to say something here that’s important, so you let him gather his thoughts. He sighs, appearing frustrated at himself that the words aren’t coming out right.

“You can do whatever you want with your body, not like you need permission from me. I just wanted t’say that you don’t need to do anything to change yourself for me. I know some people did that controlling shit Before, pushed their preferences on their partner, but I thought it was stupid then, too. I love the way you are no matter what, because it’s you, alright?” 

You blink at him, not expecting the heartfelt turn in conversation. 

There’s a hint of a flush under his tanned skin that has nothing to do with the previous vigorous activity. Talking about emotions usually does that to him, but he always makes a point of letting you know how he feels about you.  

You wax your pussy on a drunken whim because you think it’ll be hot, and this large, wonderful idiot of a man is worried you did it out of some obligation to beauty standards and wants you to know he loves you regardless. 

As silly as the situation is, you’re utterly, ridiculously charmed. 

You smile down at him, still propped on his chest. The perfect vantage point to see how his eyes get drawn to your kiss-swollen mouth. 

“And what if I said that I was just trying something out? Comparing differences, you know, to see what I like. Scientific, almost.” 

His eyes darken.

“In that case,” With a startled shriek, he has you flipped, back pinned to the bed once more. “Thinkin’ we should keep on testin’.” 

He’s creeping back down your body, focus resting on his come that has been dripping out of you, fingers scooping through the slick and pushing it right back inside where it belongs. It wrenches a shocked moan from you. 

“Joel, I can barely move already.” you whine. 

“Good thing I’m doing all the work, then.” 

His eyes are locked on the apex of your legs, greedily taking you in. 

“I ain’t done with you yet, pretty thing,” and you don’t think he’s talking to your face at all. 

[softlypaintedseafoam]

you are love itself (君は愛そのものだ)

synopsis. his skin is dotted in stardust.

pairing. portgas d. ace x f!reader

word count. 1.3k | masterlist

content warning. reader is coded black (written ambiguously. anyone can read), established relationship, childhood friends, love as worship, love as a choice, reader has established devil fruit powers

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

a repost from another account and a sort of filler post for anybody who wants something not event-related. i love this fic so much i wanted it to be on this blog too. may you get a kick out of reading it if you haven't before!

Everything is made of stardust; the stars that made Ace are simply visible to the eye.

They couldn’t be contained in the depths of his body like the rest of the world’s inhabitants. It’s scattered all across his skin in a beautiful display, matching the skies they fell from. Isn’t that something? You brush a hand against warm skin in awe. It’s all right there. The stars themselves rest upon his skin, how beautiful is that? How could anyone want someone like that dead?

When you were children, Ace told you he would bring you the moon.

What do you need the moon for when you’ve been touching the stars since you were 10?

Straddling his lap, you can’t help laughing as you think you’d been fighting a losing battle from the start. From the beginning, you’d been drawn to Ace and his stars and you wanted to follow where they’d go for the rest of your life.

“What’s so funny?” Ace murmurs into your shoulder.

“I think I was born to love you.” It is the only plausible conclusion for you to reach after 10 years of loving the same person. For the half of your life you’ve known him, you’ve chosen Ace from day one. You will continue to choose him for the rest of the life you have. You chose to chase him all around Mt. Corvo, you chose to be his friend, you chose to join his crew and your heart chose him even if your head had been slow to realize. “We don’t need to find the One Piece,” you murmur as you lead a trail of kisses from his shoulder to Ace’s cheek. “I already have everything the world has to offer right here.”

You feel Ace stiffen beneath you before he laughs sheepishly, “I think you need to have your eyes checked if you think that.”

“Hey,” you lean back so you can see his face. Your brows are furrowed sternly but your eyes sparkle with mischief and your lips stretch into a challenging grin. “I have better eyes than you, I can see the soul.”

Ace snorts but his voice is light and as warm as the smile painting his face, “souls of the dead, yeah.” Smiles suit Ace more than the frowns that were once commonplace when you were younger.

“That still counts,” you protest with a chuckle. He doesn’t have to believe he’s worthy of it, you’ll tell Ace all the same. You cup his face in your hands and enjoy the vibration of his mellifluous laughter under your fingers tips as you squeeze his cheeks. “There’s a lot you can learn about this sort of stuff when you can see the dead.” How the soul carries its wounds even after death. How the soul carries the essence of everything that makes something itself. How love can carry on beyond the grave.

You’ve seen it countless times by now in your truthfully short time of being a power holder.

The spirit of a man who wanted a few berries to leave as a surprise his husband could stumble upon to brighten his day.

An elderly woman dancing in the town square, seemingly alone following the steps she took with her lost love long ago. Unbeknownst to her, however, her love danced with all the same as they did once a long time ago.

Pods of orcas full of members past and present, refusing to part from their birth pod even in death.

How beautiful it is, a love like that.

Even while deceased, they choose to remain by their beloved all the same.

Whenever it is Ace’s time, he’ll take his stars with him and they will rest on his skin just as they did when he was alive. But I’ll make sure you’re so happy you won’t want to stay, you vowed when you partook of the sea’s cursed fruit. You carry this vow even now. Ace will die a happy death but more importantly, he will live a long and mirthful life.

(You can tell for as sure as your eyes are dry; the urge to cry and scream in mourning and warning nonexistent. Still it’s your heart’s desire that you go first so you don’t ever have to risk the day you know death will come for Portgas D. Ace.)

“You know what I think,” you cease your pinching, letting your lax thumbs stroke his face. Dark eyes look up at you like you’re a dream and gold like sunlight rests in your chest. It’s light yet heavy and even if your heart is calm, its rhythmic beating tells you something precious. And he’s so, so precious. “I think that when people move on, they’re reborn as someone else. Then they get to live life all over again. And one day, that’s gonna happen to us.”

Then you’ll cease to be the 'you’ you have been and so will he.

Maybe that time, you’ll be raised in separate seas and there will be no trio of brothers you’ll latch onto. Maybe he’ll be born somewhere in Paradise but I’ll be from the West Blue. Or maybe he’ll be a fishman. Or a giant!

Maybe next time, Ace will be a short girl with firey auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes with the disposition to match. Or he’ll be a scarred and gruff dragon moray eel fishman who is an overt romantic.

Maybe next time his stars will follow him as the marker that ties him to his previous life. Then you’ll recognize him the moment you see him. But even if I don’t, I’ll love you then too. You don’t need reminders of who he was to make you want him again.

Whatever the outcome may be, you will embrace it wholly.

“Whenever that happens, I’m gonna find you and I’m going to love you all over again. You can be a girl or a giant or a fishman.” Or maybe he’ll be the tiny human and you’ll be the giant. It will be nice being taller than Ace for once, you tell him as much with a laugh. There’s a spot of wetness at the corner of his eyes that you wipe away instinctively. “Or… maybe this world runs in one big loop and we get to be us again but that time we get to make different choices. Do the stuff we didn’t do last time. But regardless of all the different things I might end up doing, the one thing that is gonna stay the same is that I’ll choose you all over again.”

There’s a pause before Ace ducks from your gaze with a wet laugh, forehead pressed against your shoulder again. The unmistakeable feel of warm droplets subsequently follow. “Thatch must be cutting onions,” he chuckles weakly. “Sorry.”

“Dummy,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and inhale his scent. There’s a natural sweetness to it you can’t explain; it’s sweet but there is a peppery kick. It’s been that way since the first day you met him. I love him, I love him, I love him. The sentiment echoes throughout your entire being. “it’s okay to cry.”

“Would you really want me again?” His voice is soft and unsure like a young bird who doesn’t know if it can trust its wings.

Who else would I want?

Why would I want anyone else?

I’ve known you for 10 years, Ace. There’s nothing about you I don’t want.

“Over and over again,” you kiss his temple once, twice and then a third time before you lift his head and kiss the corners of his eyes. “It’s you and no one else.”

A noise of surprise escapes you when Ace’s lips press against your own but you relax a beat later, humming tenderly. You relish every sensation, how his arms wrap around you tight and how his fingers gently dig into your back. The taste of salt on your lips is akin to the ocean and your heartbeat reverberates throughout your chest.

Yes, it’s telling you something precious.

[our-hextech-dream]

i haven't seen anyone fully articulate what i personally felt disappointed by wrt viktor's s2 persona and ending so i guess i have to do it myself even tho i'm bad at talking!! can someone who is better at this just read my mind and say it fancier and more coherently?

agency, the loss of

i have seen people already mention the way disability came into play at the end and what a wild choice it was for jayce - born able-bodied and healthy - to be the one to tell viktor - trapped in a body that was actively killing him - that actually your disability is a part of you and made you who you are and you owe everything to it. ... huh? jayce (by which i mean the writers), do you think without his disability, viktor wouldn't have still been a genius? yes, viktor is disabled - that's not even remotely what makes him a compelling character and power player. it is his mind not his body that makes him who he is. the fact that he had to waste almost his whole life fighting against that body to achieve anything is the entire crux of his frustration - imagine what he could have dedicated his mind to if he weren't constantly struggling to find a way just to survive another year, another month, another week, one more day. have you thought about it? because he has. so yeah that whole conversation, trash. bruno mars just the way you are ass one direction that's what makes you beautiful ass argument. viktor was not going crazy over cosmetic surgery, he was trying not to die.

but it strikes me as just one more expression of an overarching theme for s2 viktor - that of the complete and total loss of his agency. (more on a meta level than in the show itself, but also in the show!) i said after act 1 that viktor had died in that explosion and jayce was going to be chasing that corpse until the end, and i was correct. viktor bounced from one mindset to another, never seeming to have any consistent ideology of his own that couldn't be changed as soon as the plot demanded it. at any given point he was just kinda... wandering around, doing some random shit with the powers that worked through him. gone was the viktor who used his own hands and mind to influence the world directly, to bend it to his will. i always always felt this and i stand by it - taking viktor's abilities as an inventor and scientist away and turning him into some arcane mage jesus figure was a mistake and a disservice to his character. arcane said no this boy wasn't smart or determined, his ability to build and invent and seek and learn don't matter and never mattered, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and as soon as the arcane got its goop on him he just became the most specialest magic pixie dream boy to ever live and his own goals, dreams, ideals, morals, talents, skills, and hard work ceased to matter in any meaningful way. he never had to work to master magic to be able to use it to further his goals, because he immediately stopped having goals.

viktor became a non-character. he became whatever ideological and technological threat level the show needed to challenge to heroes and never more. he ceased to have any control or understanding over what was happening to him, rather he just gave up and decided to use his magic indiscriminately for whoever made the most convincing argument, a choice that would have been completely antithetical to his character up to that point if he'd still been alive. 'fuck zaunites, sure i'll turn them into robots so a foreign power can use them to attack and take over piltover and zaun, who cares. it's not like these are the people i've spent 30 years of my life trying to protect and save.' <- something viktor would never ever ever have agreed to! ever! no matter what! they have played us for absolute fools.

ambiguity, the loss of

the thing i wanted the most and was expecting because of the way viktor's original lore was set up was that the series would end with viktor and jayce unreconciled and with mutually exclusive worldviews, both fully believing they were right and the other was misguided but not evil or irredeemable, setting them up for future conflict. this felt like what was being set up when arcane made it a plot point that jayce was being convinced to turn hextech into weapons while viktor started getting unethical and unhinged with the experimentation. they both had good reasons to do what they did - and i'm absolutely not going to insult jayce's intelligence by claiming he was just manipulated into it by anyone, give me a fucking break - but the point was that both of them were doing something the other thought was misguided and dangerous. and they also felt that if they could just make the other person see their completely logical and rational pov, they could fix the divide between them and make up and be best science buddies again.

but then at the end arcane completely gave up on viktor having any belief in his own ideals. it just turned into 'aw actually he was just lonely all along and none of that science stuff or difference in morals or worldviews mattered bc he's got a buddy now and he's completely unequivocally on jayce's side. :)'

it was like. insanely selfish. as in, self-centered, concerned *only* with the self. the viktor i liked, and the one i wanted to flourish and hoped arcane would canonize, was someone who was entirely dedicated to zaun, to righting the wrongs of piltover and helping the people in the way he thought best - no matter what jayce or piltover thought about it. an ambiguous villain, just like all the other really well-written ones in arcane.

accountability, the loss of

viktor killed people. not sky, who was an accident despite his fixation on her; i'm talking at least a hundred or more zaunites during his stint as the machine herald. he ripped their minds out and made them play house with him, then turned them into weapons of war for ambessa's siege, and all of those people - primarily sick, desperate zaunites - died. this was always the entire crux of the conflict between (league) viktor and jayce giopara. viktor was willing to destroy people and use their bodies for his own gain unapologetically because he thought what he was doing was a blessing and the people were better off under his control because they would never feel fear or anger again. agree, disagree, depends on your view of free will and human nature, but the fact is that everyone who came to viktor hoping for a chance to be healed so they could pursue their own dreams and lives had those dreams and lives ripped away from them and they never got justice or even a single scrap of acknowledgement from the narrative.

in arcane, the horror of viktor's actions just... fade away into the background. viktor and jayce waltz off into magicspace together, leaving viktor's dead, ruined victims for piltover and zaun to deal with. he doesn't return their minds or bodies, he doesn't even seem to remember or care about what he had just been doing to other sentient living human beings. he's not sorry, he doesn't feel regret, he got what he wanted (a friend) and fuck everybody else.

because the narrative just shrugs and handwaves and says no no forget all that it doesn't matter it was just the hexcore or whatever, viktor becomes a flat, uninteresting character. he loses the depth that villains like ambessa and silco had, villains who had their victims validated by the story, who faced challenges in their arcs specifically because of the people they had hurt despite thinking they were doing the right or noble or most important thing. and not just the villains! even the heroes had to wrestle with the people they stepped on on the way to their lofty goals. but not viktor. he just floats away scot free, completely blameless, having no affect on the world and the world having no affect on him.

on arcane's status as the new canon lore and the Implications™

reminder that arcane is somehow supposed to tie into the world of runeterra at large, but now viktor and jayce both have been seemingly entirely removed from it. if it only mattered that they knew the people we'd already seen them interact with, okay, i guess. but that isn't the case. they both have a ton of connections to other champions - from regions other than p&z even - that haven't been introduced and don't have any plausible explanation for how they could have met in the past, which means they should have been set up to meet somehow in the future. implying that jinx escaped and has gone traveling the world is the perfect way to incorporate her in-game relationships with people like lux - she could have met her while traveling! but jayce and viktor don't get that plausible continuation of their story and development of further relationships - they just disappear out of existence. (ambessa also has this problem because they killed her, but unlike jayce and viktor she does have a huge amount of unexplored backstory where she could have spoken to (for example) swain and hwei and shyvanna at some point.)

note 1 - jayce and viktor are so old that they don't have any voice lines in game when meeting other champions. but other champions who are either newer or who have had voiceover updates do talk to them, which is how (aside from the old lore) you can infer that they do have relationships with other champions including ones who weren't in arcane.

note 2 - maybe riot actually doesn't care and none of the champions are really supposed to know each other or be involved in each others' lives canonically, they just have random quippy voice lines that imply that. which would fucking suck. having the lore of the game have no impact on the game itself and vice versa would objectively suck. if the characters talk to each other on the rift and say something interesting, i want that to have meaning. i want to be able to extrapolate the state of the world and the relationships between the characters from the things they verbally say with their mouths. i'm not arguing about this. the voicelines should be seen as the most high irrefutable canon that there is for the game because it is the ONLY source of lore in the game itself.

anyways there's my bible i guess. i miss evil laser robot viktor i want him to perform unethical brain surgery on me (fixing my adhd but also turning me into his personal puppet attack dog) and then give a weapon to a child so they can kill their bullies.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

May 12th

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1. Hey .

So I just can’t find this fic anymore no matter how much I have tried . It’s abo where omega we’d is expecting . Sort of a 5 + 1 format where people around him know he’s expecting even before he does. There’s one scene with lqr where he says something offensive and makes wwx cry . And lqr says that’s the exact look his sister in law gave him when she was expecting lw. Is there any lead on which this fic is ?

Thaaanks in advance :)

FOUND? What to Expect When You’re Unexpectedly Expecting (and you don’t know it) by gamayuglagay (gracon_bacon) (M, 1k, WangXian , Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Modern AU, Mpreg, Fluff, Humor, Comedy, Misunderstandings)

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2. I’m looking for a fic I remember reading ages ago I think was called my monster or something like that? I’m pretty sure it followed mo xuanyu when he was first brought to the Jin sect and was him having issues but finding a secretly captured and tortured wwx in the dungeons. He calls him his monster because of his broken body and eventually tells the lans somehow? Lqr thinks he calls him a monster because of the demonic cultivation and is shocked to hear no it’s because of how jacked up wwx is? Thanks for any help finding this!! @preciouscommoditybears

FOUND! i’ll take a secondhand monster by Stratisphyre (T, 24k, MXY & WWX, MXY & JGY, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Bullying, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kidfic, Minor canonical character death, Injured WWX, Earn Your Happy Ending)

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3. Hi! I am looking for a series of short fics. The base premise is that Yiling Laozu Wei Wuxian is trialed and sentenced by the clans to be hunted. Everyone presumes Wei Wuxian will die in the hunt, but he manages to kill the 1000 Jin hunters and he survives the hunt. If I remember correctly the series never actually tells what happened during the hunt: the various fics cover what happens in the aftermath. Thank you for your help!

FOUND! the wild hunt series by antebunny (G, 18k, WangXian, JYL & JL, WWX & JL, WWX & JC, LXC & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Canon-Typical Violence, JL and his many many uncles, JGY is morally ambiguous but okay, BAMF WWX, WWX is innocent of literally everything for plot purposes, JYL Lives, Not Everyone Dies, Hopeful Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, what is fanfiction but 10k of reunions, Found Family, Fluff, they’re soft your honor, Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending)

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4. A )Hello, I am looking for a fic I read awhile ago. All I remember is that after the first siege, Wei ying take a-yuan away and runs away from the world. Lan zhan goes to find them and finds them in a cabin miles away from the cultivation world with a-yuan having a fever. They go see a doctor and i think Yanli was still alive and trying to find a way to bring wwx back home.

B) I am also looking for one I saw was ask, but couldn't find if it was found: it was a time travel, JC got back and found kid!WWC in Yiling, and somehow left him at BM. Then WQ, who also got back (JC doesn’t know that yet) takes him to her parents, and I think he grows up as a Wen. They both visit him through the years, and I think even LWJ shows up at some point.

Hopefully you can find them.

Thank you so mucb in advance @mariallia

4A)

FOUND? something left to save by androids_fighting93 (E, 57k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, No Bloodbath of Nightless City, JYL Lives, Not Everyone Dies AU, Hurt/Comfort, single dad WWX, Sick Character, Golden Core Reveal, the lightest d/s dynamic if you squint, handjobs, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Dynamics)

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5. Hello! I lost a fic series I read here in Tumblr, please help me find either the fic or the author!

What I remember is;

• Imperial!Lan. Prince Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian(of Jiang Family) have an arrange marriage.

• Wei Wuxian is already in love with Prince Wangji and tries to be the best consort possible, but Prince Wangji doesn't quite like him (yet)

•There was a war. LWJ had to go fight, and WWX secretly went after him (as an archer, he watched LWJ's back)

• LWJ fell in love with WWX through the course of the war

• After their victory, on their way back home, there was an assassination and WWX shielded LWJ from sword/arrow. There were 2 possible ending...

• Happily Ever After! WWX survived his wounds and they got married and had Ayuan afterwards.

• Tragic Ending! WWX died, entered the city in coffin lauded as a hero. Jiang Cheng got mad at LWJ and went to his house to kill him. JC found out that LWJ went crazy and still thinks and acts as if WWX is alive.

I really like this series and was so heartbroken when I couldn't find it anymore. I remember the other works of this author is also good reads, highly recommended 👌

FOUND? rebuttable presumption by sarah-yyy

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6. Looking for a Wangxian modern AU office meet-cute involving double-mistaken identity hijinks & shenanigans @olimlacus

Does WWX call LWJ mistakenly thinking he is the IT guy ? (LWJ is actually the head of the IT department. WWX is a downtrodden graphic designer for the same company)

FOUND? 🧡 Hello, IT. Have You Tried Turning It Off and On Again? By overmountainandmeadow (T, 65k, WangXian, Modern AU, Office, Modern office AU, IT Director! LWJ, Graphic Designer! WWX, Father!LWJ, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Juniors as interns, Light Angst, Mistaken Identity, Identity Porn, Rabbits, Cloud Recesses as a company, Happy Ending, Single Parent LWJ)

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7. Hello,

thank you for your great work. 💖

I'm not sure which tag would fit my search because I only remember few things.

WX or LZ has the idea that Gusu and the Cloud Recesses are big enough that nobody would realize when the Wen remnants would resettle there. I think some become farmers, other new members of the Lan clan and WX + A-Yuan move in with LZ.

I think there is also a scene with LX who is basically 😳🤯 because LZ told him nothing about his new family and so he still believes the Lin rumours.

I have no idea if it is an one-shot or a longer story. My ideas to search for it on Ao3 were too bad so I hope you can help. 😌

Thank you in advance for your work and help. 🌸🦋🐇 @dream-about-dancing

FOUND! 🔒💖 (💙) Paths untaken by apathyinreverie (T, 6k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, canon divergence, fix-it, fluff, not cultivation world friendly, smitten LWJ)  

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8. Hi! I am looking for a fic where everyone thinks Wei Wuxian died, but he actually didn’t. He tries to hide away, thinking it is for the best that everyone move past him, but he can’t help feeling awful when he sees Lan Zhan’s grief. So WWX pretends to be a water spirit ghost, and he pops up in lakes and streams near Lan Zhan so that the two can talk. They meet here and there when Lan Zhan goes out for night hunts or conventions and the like. Eventually Lan Zhan begins spending all his time at the shore so that he can stay with Wei Wuxian's "ghost", and Lan Xichen thinks his brother has gone insane with grief. I would love love love to read this again if anyone can point me in the right direction! Thank you for your help!!

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9. Hi!! Im looking for a fic where wanxian was betrothed at a young age, and there was also a curse or a prophecy that prevented wwx from showing his face to anyone (he wore a silver mask - the summary talked about this i think). anyways, once wanxian got married, for a mysterious reason (had not been revealed in the fic yet), lwj completely ignores wwx, wont let him take off his mask, and works with wq on some project. however, everyone thought wq/lwj were having an illicit affair. wwx is hurt by the unfaithfulness and the coldness of the family he married into. i think he either leaves or gets himself banished (dont remember) and lives with someone (jiang yanli maybe, she was definitely there, but there might have been an oc character - dont remember) in an isolated manor for a while, until the wens attack. then he defends the area he lives in (probably yiling tbh), and is called back to the lans so that he might be honored. he didnt want to go though due to his previous humiliation at their hands, but has no choice in the end.

i think that is where the fic "ended" for me, as it was unfinished. i also remember one distinct scene, which is wen qing coming to see wwx in his banishment(?), and has lwj's headband with her, which upsets wwx. furthermore, there were hints in the plot that lwj was being controlled by something (vines, maybe) and is having wq (doctor) treat him. jiang yanli also shows up a good amount.

the fic was >500 kudos, >100000 words, and unfinished (both might have increased since i read it, however, and the fic mightve been completed. The kudos and wc are also estimates in my memory). it was a lot of hurt, little comfort, heavy angst. if it is still unfinished and unupdated it would have been probably last updated in 2021/2022. if you know of it, it would be great help! Thank you in advance! @eviichee

FOUND! Should be the deleted "A Price To Pay" by wangxianist. It's not on the Wayback Machine, but it is in this Google Drive Folder

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10. Hello! I couldn't find this so this is where it starts, it's lan wangji going bat shit insane after wei wuxian dies and I remember he ruled the cultivation world and he killed Jiang Cheng and meng yao, also nie huisang was the one who summoned wei wuxian because he wants lan wangji either to continue to rule or be happy, I remember wei wuxian going to the cloud recesses confused because everyone was talking about lan wangji.

FOUND? A Matter of Time by mrcformoso (E, 41k, wangxian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, LWJ goes crazy, Manipulation, Grooming, Except LWJ and WWX are physically the same age, but LWJ kept his 30 year old mind, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Conditioning, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Anal Fingering, WWX is a Lan, Minor Character Death, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiangs, Abusive Jiang Family, Jiang Family Bashing, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Horny WangXian, Qingheng-jun Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Lanling Jin Sect Bashing, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX, BAMF NHS, Burial Mounds Lore, Sentient Burial Mounds, Married WangXian, Adopted LSZ, Breathplay, Dark WWX, Yandere LWJ, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat) I am not sure and I don't remember Jiang Cheng's death, but the description sounds similar

FOUND? 💖 demons run when a good man goes to war by Miranda_Aurelia (T, 20k, WangXian, LWJ & NHS, JYL/JZX, Happy Ending, Angst, Canon Divergence, NHS and LWJ being bros, Probably not JGY friendly, Don't Mess with NHS's brother, Dark LWJ, NHS doesn't believe in letting ethics get in the way of results, Revenge, (presumed) major character death, also not really LXC friendly) Hi, the May 12 fic finder #12 is definitely not A Matter of Time. I didn’t send the ask but while the beginning is similar, it’s a time travel fic with everyone being dead needed in order for Lan Zhan to go back in time. Wei Ying is technically never summoned in the fic. Lan Zhan goes back to change everything after taking Wei Ying home after the rattle drum scene - Sorry I think I sent my message without finishing. It was for #10 of May 12 fic finder. I was saying it might be a few different fics or a mixed memory of them. Like there was one where Lan Zhan ended up killing Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling to get back in Time. Demons run when a good man goes to war has Lan Zhan becoming kind of like the emperor of the cultivation war I think and Wei Ying shows up at the end alive. I’m too invested in this now whoops

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11. Hi! For the fic finder, I am trying to find a fic where after nightless city, WWX is captured rather than killed, and he ends up being imprisoned, I think by the Nie, eventually? I do remember that no one feeds wwx because they assume he can keep himself alive with his golden core (they might have did something to his mouth to keep him from whistling?) and that he nearly dies. Thank you in advance!

FOUND? 🔒❤️ whipstitch by curiositykilled (M, 131k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Torture, WWX Lives, but basically no one else, Case Fic, Cultivation Sect Politics, Past Abuse, WWX Whump, YLLZ WWX, JL Needs a Hug, JL Tries, Yunmeng Bro Reconciliation, Past Character Death, Body Horror, Non-Consensual Body Modification, POV Alternating, Flashbacks, Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Suicide Attempt, PTSD, Depression, Not A Fix-It, Mouth Sewn Shut)

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12. Hii, I'm looking for a fic I read a while ago that I thought I saved but that was not the case so now it's lost and I can't find it😭. It's a modern Au fic in Wich if I'm not wrong Lz and wxx meet in an airport because they're flies got cancelled , I think they were going to different places but anyway. I don't recall why they ended up in a hotel that night, more specifically in the same room, the thing is that they discovered they were fated mates so that kind of triggered their heats, they fucked like 3 days straight or something like that and were all in love with each other, they bonded I think, although I'm not pretty sure. The end of the fic is they go separate ways to do what they were supposed to do and then it shows they got married and Wxx is either pregnant or with a baby or toddler A-yuan.

If you can help me find this fic I would appreciate it very much, thanks!♥️ @anonimtak

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13. hiiiii im looking for this greek mythology au where lwj is the god of flowers (persephone) and wwx is the god of the underworld (hades) and i dont remember much but i know lwj kissed him while he wore a blindfold and it was also quite smutty @ashxi-wx

FOUND? Flowers Blooming in the Dark by TheLegendOfChel (T, 64k, WangXian, Gods & Goddesses, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, but it’s still in a xianxia/wuxia setting, Pining, Mutual Pining, Courtship, Forbidden Love, Hades and Persephone AU, Kidnapping, Kind Of, Smitten LWJ, Smitten WWX, Fluff, Courting Rituals, Secret Relationship, Minor XuanLi, Minor ChengSang, references to wwx’s canonical kinks, Child LSZ, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)

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14. Excuse me, but could you please help me find a Post-Canon Wangxian fic? One where they go into the desert and fight against mummies? Possibly inspired by the Ben Frasier Mummy movies? Please and thank you. Have a good day. 👍 @kaitou-cure-prism12

FOUND! Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit by Kryal (M, 83k, WangXian, graphic depictions of violence, canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, ridiculously long author notes, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo)

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15. Hi! I've been scouring the blog and ao3 alike but I can't seem to find a really specific wangxian fic and I was hoping ya'll could help me out. It was essentially a horror, demon (or spirit) possession fic where Lan Zhan gets possessed. I think it was established relationship but I'm not sure, but it definitely ends with smut. It was pretty creepy and I'd love to read it again. Thanks a bunch! @just-some-person-with-a-blog

FOUND? 🔒 Vagabond by xantissa (E, 65k, WangXian, Slow Burn, Mystery, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Frottage, Case Fic, murders, Supernatural, Angst, Fluff, those two are so in love it hurts, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, badass LXC, Canon-Typical Violence, topLWJ, Bottom LWJ) but Wei Ying returns to Cloud Recesses post-canon in the hopes of starting a relationship with Lan Zhan (they're not in an established relationship to begin with).

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16. so i want to find a fic. all i remembered wass that lwj (hgj) married the yllz. this fic is a shifter AU so dragon lwj and huli jing yllz, at the time they married, wwx shift to a woman and always wear his veil. but a night bc he thought that lwj cant see him in the dark (it was explained that drgaons has a night sight so he can see in the dark) he took off his veil and sleep beside lwj, he also shift back to become a man (this is a probaility, i dont remember that much). In the end, bc lwj already know it's wei ying he confronted him, and they live happily ever after. it was either arranged or of convinient bc wwx is yllz ok, so he is like a war prize ig. thank you for your hardwork bb!

FOUND? 💖 Paths of Light and Darkness Converge by ataratah (E, 30k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Animal Transformation, gender non-conforming mythological creature, Non-Human Genitalia, Secret Identity, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Angst, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Happy Ending, Everyone Lives, Fox WWX, Dragon LWJ, Genderfluid Character, WWX can change gender, but uses masculine pronouns, Double Penetration in One Hole, LWJ & WWX's canonical pregnancy kink, discussion of planned future pregancy, no actual pregnancy or mpreg, Supportive LQR, Canon-Typical Violence)

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17. Hello! A request for a Fic Finder. I suddenly remembered, i am quite sure, a short twt thread where there was a comparison between Wangxian and the Sun and the Moon, but not the more common one.

Lan Zhan was compared to the Sun, radiant to the point of being blindning, grandiose and impossible to look at for a long time, steady and always here for those looking for warmth and protection, the first to wake up at the dawn and the first to go to sleep at the same time in the night.

Wei Ying was compared to the Moon - also shining, but possible to always seek out and stare at, lightning the way for everyone in the dark of the night, always fluttering around the Sun (his Lan Zhan) on its orbit and always following it (him) around.

I remember the thread being short and concentrated fully on this comparison. It could have an answer to another thread where Wei Ying was the Sun and Lan Zhan the Moon or had this said in the first post as the base for the thread about another opinion. Please help me find it, it was so sweet and lovely, i really hope it is still out here or maybe even turned into AO3 story ❤️🥺 @shellennium

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18. hiiiii im looking for this one modern BJ Alex au of wangxian @ashxi-wx

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19. Hello again! Thank you as always for the hard work! As usual, I checked the compilations first, but I still couldn't find what I'm looking for. It's a fic where Wei Wuxian is a merman or jiaoren, but for some reason I remember he got injured and had to stay in a lake in Caiyi where LWJ visited (or maybe guarded?) him and that's how they fell in love. I remember Su She was there and either wanted WWX or was jealous of him, and I think the fic might have been rated G or T? That's everything I remember, I think. Thank you and have a great week!

FOUND? 🔒 Secrets of Yunmeng’s Lotus Lakes by Cy_an_Blue (M, 73k, WangXian, one-sided SS/WWX, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Mermaid WWX, Cultivator LWJ, Younger WWX, Younger LWJ, teenage WWX, teenage LWJ, No War AU, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Awkwardness, Injury Recovery, Injury, Blood and Injury, accidental injury, Accidental Stabbing, Cultivation Accidents, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, waterborne abyss, Kidnapping, Non-Explicit Torture, Mentions of major injury, People are evil, people are greedy bastards, Fluff, Attempted Sexual Assault, SS being ick, Courtship, Courting Rituals)

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20. Hi, I’m looking for a fic where canon divergence after I think the Xuanwu of Slaughter Wei Wuxian gives birth to a baby boy, and gives the care over to Wen Yuans mother. He gave birth under Wen Qings care. And after the war he goes and gets both children from the labor camps and claims both children are his and Lan WangJi’s at the Jin banquet and that is how he frees the Wens.

If you could find it that would be very appreciated. @scrumptiouseclipseponyllama

FOUND? Take Responsibility by draechaeli (E, 187k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mainly Novel with a few CQL and Donghua bits, Everybody Lives, Original Children Characters, Adoption, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Mpreg, Teen Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Male Lactation, Lactation Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Pregnant Sex, easy to skip nsfw chapters, Fix-It, Happy Ending)

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[scamguy]

Due to Kim Dokja being a VERY repressed person in general, I think he would REALLY struggle with his how he'd associate with his sexuality, whether you see him as gay/bi/aro/ace... Actually if you think he'd be fine with dating Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung, from the bat, without any issue, then I think you're insane. More under the cut because that all became a big chunk of text.

We're talking about a guy who spent his entire life trying to blend in the background so hard that he became a literal ghost. If he even ever thought about his own sexuality, then he either came to the realization that he is straight (which I just don't think is true considering how often he compliments other men's looks), or that he's not and therefore he should try his best to pass as cishet just in case, so that no one would bother him about it. Don't forget he grew up bullied AND scrutinized by the press. He's used to having to keep things hidden.

I also don't think he'd bother experimenting with his sexuality in adulthood, considering he's only still alive for the sole and unique reason that he wants to read that one ongoing novel, so that stuff is completely out of the picture for him. His closest friend is a coworker he barely ever speaks to, do you think he would try to go out and date people? Pleaaaase...

Kim Dokja wants to disappear in his surroundings, he wants to be ordinary, forgettable, just another coworker, the upstairs neighbor, the unnoticeable everyman in the subway seat angling his phone away from other people's line of sight so they can't see what he's reading. Gender and sexuality is a non-behavior for him; he's presenting as a man because of his assigned sex, and he's not looking for romantic partners because he doesn't need one in order to survive. Genderless, and sexless - truly an undefined shape, who discarded everything there was to discard about his life in favor of focusing completely on a fictional story. Funnily, I think his gender is closer to 'reader' than it is to anything else: he's just Not There.

And as such, standing out, even just a little, is his natural enemy. So while I dont think he's bigoted (all of that stuff could've been handled a lot better in the novel, but: it's made rather clear that he doesn't judge people on their gender identity but on their actions - as shown in the early chapters of the demon king castle scenarios with the catfishing crew - and once he comes to see Jang Hayoung as a real person, rather than his OC, he recognizes her as a woman), I think that because of this fear of standing out, he'd obviously consider the idea of queerness as something undesirable, especialy if it's in relation to himself, because it gets in the way of his comfortably dull (non-)existence.

This internalized homophobia is, imo, made even clearer everytime his possible queerness is brought up by other characters, because he avoids the subject like the plague and he rarely comments on it in the narration, which makes his real thoughts on this very ambiguous and up to interpretation. Even if it's only brought up for laughs, I think it's interesting that Kim Dokja just flat out refuses to speak or even think about being into guys because he's just that embarassed.

So what about post-canon? Unless you're some heartless monster without a modicum of reading comprehension, then you surely dream of an ending where Kim Dokja wakes up and gets to live and grow old with the ones he loves. But even after learning that he can be loved, that he IS loved, can he truly let go of his lifetime(s) of repressed emotions, can he truly accept himself? Is the self-love that brought him back, the same thing as self-acceptance? And even after absorbing the idea that he is of immense worth to the world, is it enough to overcome his guilt? Could he truly bear to live without feeling like he has to hide himself anymore? He understands that he should exist, but does he truly try to live his life to the fullest?

[nocturnesmoon]

And no room for error (1/2)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader Word count: 5.6k Tags: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Happy ending, Established throuple, polyamory, military inaccuracies, Mental instability, Ambiguous reader CW: Kidnapping, Human trafficking, Torture, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, canon typical violence, Allusions to unhealthy habits A/N: Forever holding these two close in my heart. Can be read as a standalone but might do a part two i dont know yet (Part 2) (Read on Ao3) -They come home to an empty apartment-

Johnny feels sick.

As he stares at the open door at the end of the hallway, he feels sick. The one he spotted when he wasn't even fully up the stairs and made him sprint the last few steps only to stand frozen when it's in full view.

He feels the worry gnaw the insides of his stomach, all the excitement that was eating him alive only moments prior, now transformed into a wretched beast of anxiety. The clutch on his duffel bag tightens, the string underneath his palm cutting uncomfortably against his skin.

He doesn't even need to be all the way there to see that the door is halfway off its hinges, or the hole that's been punched through it. It’s all types of wrong, something that shouldn't ever be, not on their apartment, not with you in it.

It’s as if a part of him fully blacks out, no thoughts, no feelings, only one purpose. He walks the short distance like a man possessed, dropping the duffel just outside the broken entrance before marching through it.

He calls out your name and finds no answer. His voice is hoarse, unrecognizable as your name falls from his lips again, over and over again in a desperate prayer. He moves like a jittery animal through the apartment, he doesn't take notice of its state, he doesn't spend extra time investigating, seeing the damage, he doesn't have to.

He knows what it means, the horrible implications and the terrible outcomes. He flays open the door to the bathroom, nothing, he opens the door to the home office with his shoulder, nothing, he carefully opens the door to your shared bedroom, terrified at the emptiness. The lack of your presence was something he never wanted to feel, something in his heart reaching out to you and failing to find you.

He stops, standing in the middle of the room that's in shambles. He sees the dresser that has its contents flipped upside down, some of your favorite clothing pieces torn to shreds on the wooden flooring.

He sees the splintered wood on the bedframe, a place that they had spent so many orange mornings with you in, the sheets now ruffled and unkempt void of a morning glow. He sees the broken mirror, the same one you insisted on having when the three of you moved in, you said you'd use it, but you never really do.

He sees the damage; he sees the sign of struggle.

The evident feeling of what happened here makes his muscles stiffen, his joints feels like they're about to snap. His head blacks out, fills up with an angry fog, tears prickling at his eyes and cold shame bleeding through his back.

It's a horrible feeling that makes him want to puke up his emotions, a habit they coaxed you out of after extensive support. He wants to think better thoughts, that you are at your friend’s house, and this happened while you weren't here.

But as he feels the looming presence behind him and hears the duffel bag crash against the ground out of shock, he knows this is happening and it's the most terrified he's ever been.

Where were you? Who were you with? Are you hurt? Are you even still alive?

Questions of horror plague Simon's mind as he paces the living room of disarray. The place had been completely ransacked, not only were you gone, but everything they had of sentimental, or material value had been destroyed, not taken, destroyed.

A nightmare come true, no, something worse than. It made Simon's skin crawl, his stomach doing twists in hopes of finding a better feeling. He felt freezing cold, the apartment was frosty, the heater you loved to sit in front of on cold winter mornings hadn't been used in too long.

How long have you been gone? How long has it been since they took you?

He hadn't felt fear like this in a long time, something that came to compare with a certain unspoken Christmas. A fear that kept him from getting too attached to anyone, not until he met Johnny who tore down his defenses, or you who phased right through his walls of reinforced steel.

Now it creeped its way back into his senses, reminding him that they failed to conceal you, they failed to keep you out of view, they did not keep you safe, and you were suffering the consequences of it.

Simon called the cops as soon as he got out of his own shock, he called Price immediately after knowing which of the two would be faster. Price had always been fond of you since the day they introduced you to him. Various holidays spent with Price and his family since they didn't live far, and you clearly enjoyed his cooking just a tad more than Johnny's, even if you didn't want to admit it to their faces.

Simon was still holding the phone to his ear long after Price had hung up with the promise of being right there. The phone was still warm against his skin, making him want to not pull it away and feel the eerie chill that the apartment shouldn't have.

He looks towards Johnny who's sitting on the couch, even more eerie than the apartment itself. He's too quiet for any of this, Simon had halfheartedly expected him to go off the rails in this type of situation, but no. He's completely quiet, staring down at a pair of dog tags in his hands, clutched tightly like they might disintegrate if he lets them go.

It's the dog tags they gave you, the fake ones they got made with each of their names since you were so fixated on their actual ones. Despite how much they adored the look of you with nothing but their tags, they would still need them in the field when they went out. To remedy it, they got you your own, one with Simon’s name and one with Johnny's, a mark to claim you as theirs.

You never went anywhere without it after you first laid eyes on them. You'd always have them dangling around your neck if you went out, or if the outfit called for something else, you'd have them wrapped around your wrist, or safely tucked in your pocket.

It was your piece of them, something to hold close whenever they weren't home. A testament to the fact that they still had their own, that they were not gone forever and would come back to you. You weren't wearing them now; you didn't have them with you.

"Who do ye think it was?" Johnny's voice interrupts the cold dread silence that filled a living room that was supposed to be warm and safe.

Simon's head snaps up, the muscles in his arms finally relenting and letting him take the phone away from his ear. "What?" much like Johnny's, his voice had that constant tinge of fear ever since they entered the apartment.

"Ye know how many enemies we've made" Johnny sighs, his head bowing down to rest his forehead against his knuckles, "Which of the sick bastards do ye think took 'em." It makes Simon sick to even consider, but it’s becoming blaringly obvious that it was what happened to you.

Nothing else would make sense in their heads, this was no ordinary break in. If you were staying somewhere else, you'd answered their dozen calls, and their 50 messages. There was no reason for you leave, no reason for you to ghost them and leave the apartment like this.

"We must've been made a mistake somewhere, left a trail, led them right to here," Johnny continues, going down a spiral road that promises a fall to every turn. "Right to them" he tries to conceal the crack in his voice, biting down on his tongue to stop the rising panic in his chest.

It’s no use, there's no getting past Simons observant gaze, not a feeling to be hid when his eyes flickers over you and brings out every little thought you've ever had. "I called Price," Simon's voice becomes a tether between them, something to bind them together and hold the uncontrollable explosions in their chests at bay.

He pockets his phone and moves over to where his lover is sitting. Every step feels like his legs are full buckets of water, sludgy movement accompanied by a certain lightheadedness. He has to stay strong for the both of them, for you, wherever you are now.

He positions himself between Johnny's legs to take his attention away from your dog tags. His roughened hands gently glide over the stubble on Johnny's cheek, guiding his eyesight upwards and bringing him into an encompassing hug. One to keep him tugged away from the scene, away from the reality. A hug to compress them both together, to stop them from falling apart in your absence.

Simon doesn't view himself as a religious man, spiritual or anything of the sort, but right now he prays. He prays to any god that will hear him, any entity that will look upon his bloodied soul and carry pity for him. He prays for your return, your life, your being, that when they find you, and they will find you, that you won't be hurt, that you will still be you.

Price comes first, as expected, the police shortly after. When he first saw Simon's number pop up on his phone, he felt confused. There was no fear in him yet just confusion because Simon doesn't call ever, unless it's important.

When he found out the reason, he felt the claws of fear himself. A situation everyone in the 141 grapples with, when they have the knowledge of loved ones at home. Knowing it was you only made the fear worsen.

Though skeptical, he had been happy when the boys had introduced you to him, happy that they found something to care for and trust other than themselves. He had multiple times admitted to himself how well the three of you fit together, each of you completing something that the other would be missing.

The paternal or brotherly instinct in him that he held for his boys in the 141 quickly translated over to you as well. Much like for anyone else in his family or the 141, he'd go to great lengths for you. In fact, he's pretty sure he broke a traffic law or two to get here so fast.

He watches from afar by the staircase, Simon was talking to one of the police officers that came by his body rigid ever so tense. He knows that this is something that could destroy these two to a new level, a level Price would not have seen before.

He knew Simon better than Johnny, and while Simon prided himself in looking like he had it all together, he had seen the man in his worst times, and it was destructive. A place he could barely pull the man out of once he sunk down to it.

Johnny had placed himself on the staircase, unable to face the direction of what was once a home of warmth and safety. He was quietly talking to Kyle on the phone, informing him and of what they knew and what they didn't, in a sense helping each other calm down while preparing what needs to be done.

Kyle had offered to come over there asap, sounded practically halfway out the door but Johnny managed to talk him out of it. Price was already here, along with him and Simon and the police it was already a crowd that didn't need more attention than necessary.

Price had stopped listening a while ago, trusting any other finer details for Johnny to deliver. He was focused solely on Simon and the officers. They looked almost bored as they listened to Simon explain the needed details, their general lack of respect firing irritation into his veins.

He knew that he cared for them in a way no superior technically should, this wasn't just about keeping his soldiers in one piece so he could have use of their skills in the field, it was about the bond they shared, the traces of family between them all. It brought them together when needed, they could trust each other to see things through, and help when things seemed hopeless.

That trust extended to you too, a heart full of so much emotion you never failed to surprise Price with your range. He had met so many different people in his time, and rarely did he ever find someone like you, a personality of range so raw it repelled the wrong people and drew in the ones that could handle you.

He looks towards the door that creeks open, red fiery curls, that you had described one time over tea, poking out along with a set of curious eyes. A nosy neighbor you had particular disdain for, finally now looking to see what all the noise is about.

He gives them eyes sharp like daggers, promising blood, and vengeance if they didn't kindly close the door again. It often fell into topic during your teatime with him, petty gossip shared between the two of you. You had called them creepy, perverse, gross, eyes that stared too long at you when you passed in the hallway, and words drawn out as if you keep you close longer whenever you talked.

Price already had plenty of reason to distrust and dislike them, but even more so now because of their plain ignorance. Even if they didn't know how long ago the deed was done, the damage is noticeable, the noise it must have made when it was done isn't something you just miss.

No, your neighbors had deliberately ignored the obvious signs. Walked past it thinking someone else will call it in, someone else will help, but nobody ever did. The red curls disappeared again, most likely got bored with the lack of a scene to watch now that the police were searching the home.

"You think they will find anything?" Price's attention was promptly brought back to Johnny, who had seemingly finished his phone call. Now looking up to him with worry and fear, occasionally glancing back at the open door and wincing at the reminder.

He wants to assure him, to tell Johnny that yes, they will find everything they can, they'll build a case, your sweetheart will be safe and sound within the morning, but Price doesn't like to lie to them when it doesn't benefit them.

"No…" Price answers with a sigh, his arms coming to cross over his chest, "But we will find something."

He can already feel it in the way the officers halfheartedly take on the case, the disinterested stares, their overworked faces. They won't find anything, and they certainly won't find you. Even if they wanted to it's more likely that this is beyond them.

This isn't something simple, it’s something that could go way back. A deliberate hit on the two of them, revenge maybe, or a message. Time would reveal which one, only one thing was certain right now, you were their top priority.

The first few days back on base are like hell for Simon and Johnny. Having to go back to work with the knowledge of your absence makes both of them go a little mad. They know Price is doing everything he can to speed it along, to find out something about your whereabouts, but it takes time.

Meanwhile they're left with nothing to do except work and wait. They both know they can't return back to their apartment with the intent to live there anymore, but the task of looking for a new place is all too daunting. Not to mention it would feel wrong without your input, with your acceptance of their new flat, a big decision they didn't want to make without you.

They have different coping mechanisms in your absence. Johnny is a lot more withdrawn, in his own head all too much thinking about you and what state you could be in now. He draws but its barely an escape anymore, it doesn't help him unwind like it used to, so he goes to the gym, he works out, he punches the bag imagining it’s your captors face whatever they might look like.

Simon swamps himself with paperwork, taking on way more than he can handle, because if a single thought of you presses into his head, he might not be able to keep his composure. He's barely keeping afloat as is, holding Johnny close every night calming each other down the best they can.

Even so there is a definite distance between them, the lack of overlap in their activities and work putting them at bay from each other during the day. The constant separation in the morning and the sleepless nights take a toll on them both.

One that Simon only truly realizes when he opens the door to his room and sees Johnny broken down into a heave of sobs. He wasn't unfamiliar with panic attacks, having them himself on an annoying basis, but he knew they didn't plague Johnny as much as they did now.

Johnny felt sick ever since the apartment, he hadn't been eating properly because how could he when you might not have food, he hadn't been resting because how could he when you might not be rested, he couldn't do anything unless it was to further the task of finding you. Every time he tried, he was filled with an unbridled shame that bled into his bones, and made it infinitely harder to do.

Simon softly closes the door, making his presence known but still being quiet as to not startle him on either end. He walks over, watching his partners state of panic, kneeling to take him in his arms and hold him close.

"Breathe…" he whispers against Johnny's scalp; he's still crying and gasping for air but he melts against Simon like he's always meant to be there. Johnny shifts, pressing fully against him and burying his face into his chest.

"I need you to breathe love…"

Johnny tried gasping for air again, tried to focus on the steady heartbeat in Simon’s chest but it felt futile. "I..I can't…" his voice broke over midway "What…what if we never find them Si….what if they're not even ali-"

"Stop."

Simon pressed his partner even closer, halfway into his lap at this point in an attempt to soothe him. He knew how many times he must've gone there by now, entertaining the thought that there will be nothing to find anymore, that what they're looking for is no longer a thing. He doesn't want to go there, he refuses to believe it as a possibility, because Simon isn't sure what he is going to do with himself if that turns out to be the case. 

He might crumble fully this time, fall with nothing to catch him. He desperately wants to be there for his partner no matter what, but losing either of you would destroy him, and he knows this as a fact.

"What if…what if they think we're not coming" Johnny tightens his hold against Simon’s shirt, "They know that right…they can't think we're abandoning them…they can't."

"We're going to find them Johnny," He promises him, "We're bringing them home" he promises him something he isn't sure if he can keep.

Slowly but surely, they get moved onto the bed, not bothering with removing any layer of clothing. As much as the skin on skin might help, Johnny would still be too out of it. Right now, he needs a steady hand, something to rest against as he cries himself dry.

Simon pulls him against his chest as they lay down, barely even separating at all. Their legs tangling, heartbeats together, Johnny begins to calm down. His sobs become quieter, but the pain in his heart is still at large.

Simon can feel it in his own, from Johnny's, all around them. He doesn't let it be known, nor does he do it loud, but a few tears escape from the corner of his eyes, falling down his cheeks. It makes him hug Johnny tighter, to keep the one thing he still has left close in his arms, because if he lets this go now, he will truly be lost.

Crack

Johnny winces as he hears another finger snap, watching it bend the wrong way and eliciting another broken scream from the guy in the chair.

They've been at it for an hour by now, the fifth guy they've managed to bring in this week alone. It didn't take long before they started finding potential leads of your whereabouts, bringing in blokes who might have even the tiniest clue.

Price was technically supposed to be here as well but had conveniently left them alone with the poor guy, for better or for worse. It was one thing Price knew he could do nothing about, if he didn't help the two bring them in, they'd do it on their own anyway and with a much higher chance at getting themselves killed before they even find you.

Another crack and pop.

Johnny lets out a sigh as he watches his partner interrogate the terrified fella. It almost looked intimate, with how close Simon was in the guy’s face, tapping his hands over the man's hands before snapping another finger. Fortunately, Johnny did know better than that, there was nothing intimate about this, the things said in low threatening voices were things whispered with pure malice, a promise of revenge against the people that took their love.

He was getting a bit dejected however, this guy’s wasn't the first and certainly wouldn't be the last. They hadn't found a single thing about your location; they had a slight idea of the people that took you, but it didn't add up with other evidence they had. Every new thing they learned was either a lie or well-orchestrated plan, something that put them back to square one.

"No no no! Not that anything but that!" The man screamed trying to squirm away from Simon. There had always been something terrifying about the way Simon did his work in here, it made Johnny incredibly grateful to be on the same side as him, to not be the guy in the chair on the receiving end of all that.

"Johnny, do you mind?"

"Not at all LT" There was a certain venom in both of their voices, a danger whispered into the chords. It made them move as one, the same thoughts flowing through two brains almost like telepathy, one goal in mind.

Johnny moved over to the steel table, moving a bloodied wrench out of the way. He pitied whoever was going to clean this up, because it likely wasn't going to be them. They were still counting that this guy had some sort of information. In truth he did give them all sorts of info that they will catalogue and report later, but nothing about you.

He picks up the jumper cables and moves it all closer, onto the tray with squeaky wheels that Price promised to get changed months ago. He looks at the skull mask that’s now faced towards him, he sees behind it, the brown eyes a little duller and not as full of life.

He knows that Simon could go all night if it meant that he would finally get your location, but he was tired, not just physically but mentally as well. They could both use a break, a long one, the type that could give their very souls the needed rest, but neither of them stopped, it wasn't an option.

Johnny rolled the small table over to Simon, letting him do his thing. He lets out a sigh as he listens to the pathetic pleading from the guy in the chair as Simon hovers the cables near his crotch. With a heavy sigh Johnny excuses himself, having had enough of the whining and moaning, and feeling a headache come on.

He closes the door behind him to the room just in time, the muffled screaming from inside combined with Simon's incessant yelling quickly drowned out. He feels the cold breeze on his face, letting the feeling of fresh air fall over him. The warm stench that always got into a room during the torture finally washing away from his nostrils.

It's cold out, he notices as he feels the goosebumps ride up his arms. If you were here, you'd be chewing him out about going outside without a jacket, telling him that he can't get a cold, because if he gets a cold then you'll get a cold, and you really don't want to be sick. He'd ruffle your hair, much to your annoyance, and tell you that he wouldn't get sick, but of course he would a few days later, and even then, you'd be taking care of him so sweetly, despite complaining before it.

But you aren't here.

He takes a few deep breaths and tries really hard to keep the panic looming in his body concealed. He had to stay tactical, calm, and in control, but they had hit too many dead ends. Their first thought was that they somehow had let you be known to their enemies, and that some had come to take you as leverage but the chilling realization that nobody they had tried knew anything about you became an uncomfortable itch.

Maybe that was what was the scariest thing about this situation, it having nothing to do with them and everything to do with you.

The moment they get a proper lead on a location is when things start to go fast. Not even 2 hours after the briefing are they on the plane and landing on a base that would be close by the revealed location. It doesn't take a lot of convincing to have Price agree to the mission, perhaps just as eager himself to finally put an end to the madness.

Was it logical? Not all the way, smart? Fuck no, but it was hope, and Price knew at this point that if he didn't find a way to make it happen fast, then Johnny and Simon would just steal a plane and go on their own, Gaz would likely join them too if they asked.

But the fact remained, someone had finally cracked, who it was, Simon barely even remembers. The past week or so he's been avoiding thinking about you like were you a vicious disease that spread whenever someone mentioned its name, but now you were the only thing that consumed his thoughts, along with a overwhelming brooding rage.

He's not even sure you're going to be there, a human trafficking ring, their supposed base of operations revealed to them. If it wasn't for the anger boiling in his veins, he'd feel sick upon learning the knowledge of all the kidnappings that had been happening in your area.

You hadn't ever said anything, but he didn't doubt that you knew, you just also knew that they would worry too much and wouldn't go do their jobs if they knew. He wants to scream at himself, yell at a mirror for being so stupid and careless, if he had just stayed up to date then maybe he could've prevented all of this.

You might still be at home, waiting for them to join you in bed, the three of you cuddling together in your favorite position. If only he could go back and change his mistake. He knows he can't, he knows he can't change what he did or didn't do, but he will correct it now, and get you back in their arms.

The place is massive, but he barely even registers it, nothing feels real as he pursues anything and everything that could lead his way to you. He's mauling people down with scary precision, unleashing his rage on them while somehow still keeping them covert. He can feel that Johnny is behind him, watching his back, but he never actually turns around to confirm.

They've passed several rooms, or cells more like with plenty of victims, but none of them had you among them. After securing the victims safety, they left it to the other soldiers behind them to get them out of there while they continue to comb through the building.

Johnny starts losing hope once they've nearly been everywhere, all enemies neutralized, and victims secured. Though they have a few rooms left, they've seen no sign of you or anything that might've belonged to you.

And of course, that's when it happens, when they turn the handle on the last door, the last of their hope almost extinguishing, only to spike in their throats from the scene revealed to them.

The room is bigger than expected, at first hand it seemed more or less like another one of the rooms they kept their poor victims holed up in, but there was only one person in there. A body in the corner, naked, bruised, dirty, with unmistakable features that they used to caress at night within the safety of their own bed.

Once again Johnny feels sick, almost bends forward to wretch everything up right then and there as well but he has to keep it together. He wants to scream and cry, rip the person who did this to shreds, but it's likely Simon already did that unknowingly out there.

His partner doesn't stand frozen beside him for long, but likely going through a similar round of emotional turmoil. They both sprint to your side, trying to check your state both for injuries and your awareness.

Cuts and scrapes litter your body like a fucked-up pattern, your naked skin covered in dirt, dust and perhaps even mud. Your eyes are barely open, void and tired, they can practically see the redness and the crust from your crying stained onto your face.

Johnny smoothes a hand over your thigh to check a wound but flinches away when he hears you whimper. They feel a crack in their hearts as they watch you spur a little to life, pathetically trying to inch away from them but having no more energy to do so.

"No no…Sweetheart it's okay…it's us" Johnny tries to be soothing, not forcing touch on you but still trying to guide your vision in his direction. He almost can't bear to look at what they've done to you, inhumane things and then just to leave you here in a room by yourself.

When your eyes finally meet his, he chokes back on a wretched noise, your terrified look is something he never wants to see directed at him or Simon. Not from you. He gently guides you hand up to his hair, in the moment he doesn't care about the blood or the dirt, all he wants to do is remind you. He helps your fingers tangle through like you've done so many times before, hoping to kickstart your memory.

At first, you're stiff, unwilling, but slowly your hands start squeezing at his hair out of your own volition. A little more clarity in your eyes as you choke out his name, and when he hears he nods rapidly. His hold on your hand tightening as he looks down at you with tears in his eyes.

He wants to hold you, crush you against him, but he knows he has to be careful. Along with your visible injuries, they have no idea if you have broken bones or worse going on inside. "Yes, love…it's me….we're here…we found you…" he nods and brings your weak hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently.

They have to move you, and get you out of here with the rest, but Simon is afraid to touch. Scared that one motion from him could make everything infinitely worse. He's been sitting paralyzed next to Johnny and you, watching as Johnny brings part of you back to reality instead of the mental prison you've no doubt locked yourself in.

He looks away from your hand and back to your face, almost horrified to see that you're now staring up at him. He missed you greatly, but right now, he almost can't bear to have you look at him. He reaches his own hand up, wincing when he sees the blood on it but continuing regardless to pull his mask off.

He sees the tears forming in your eyes as you see him again, his hand gently cupping your face and wiping away the falling tears. "It hurts…" you sob quietly, and all Simon can do is nod, because he knows, he knows all too well about the pain you're in.

"I know love…I know…" He lets out a shaky sigh, giving an affirming glance to Johnny before moving around. They need to get going, and they need to get you to safety. He gently hoists you up, tries to not think of your desperate whimpers of both fear and pain.

He holds you close to his chest, Johnny's hands tugging your matted hair away, so it didn't get stuck on any gear. Simon's grip on you is fierce, a grounding touch you've needed for so long, and with Johnny's warm voice softly assuring you, you start to settle away from your panic.

They keep you close the entire time, assuring you, holding you, keeping you tugged away from the gore and the defiling monsters that lay dead on the ground. They keep you close, closer than ever before, and they won't let you go, not again, not ever. They'll carry you through the recovery, they'll get you back on your own feet again, back to yourself again.

They will never let any of this happen again.

[pyrodolls]

Hey can I request yandere x gn reader, you can choose the chatacter from mk1 please. Where the yandere is obviously obsessed, but in the 'i live you so much, you can do nothing wring, i would die for you' kind of way? They absolutely adore the reader and would do anything. The reader tell them to cook and clean and suddenly they are the perfect house-husband. No matter what

yandere reptile/syzoth x reader hcs

warnings: slight angst, toxic relationship, slight mentions of violence, obsessiveness, ooc syzoth, regular yandere tendencies yk

summary: just some hcs of yandere syzoth being absolutely down bad for (gender neutral) reader

a/n: anon… you literally read my mind we are the same person. i see you i hear you i feel you. anyways my inbox is full of yandere reqs, i’m very sorry to anyone who has had their request sitting in my inbox for a while, i will get to all of them eventually i promise!! also this was kinda sad oopsies

after the loss of his family, syzoth thought there was nothing to live for anymore. sure, he became empress mileena's emissary, but he could be easily replaced. why should he continue to live if he doesn't have anything driving him to get up every morning?

every day he felt as if his life was just a cold, dark void. every day he'd hear empty, half-hearted apologies for his past. every day was the same, as he woke up every morning hoping for something new, something exciting, something to dig him out of the hole his life was in. but no matter how much he longed it would come, it never did. as if it never would.

at least that's what he thought, until he met you.

you were so kind... so helpful... so empathetic. you never hated him for being zaterran, you were so patient, and you were so understanding when you listened to his problems.

and then syzoth became completely attached to you. he saw you as an angel that saved him at the lowest point in his life. it's like he was searching for an answer for why he was still alive, and he was granted one. it was you.

he would do anything for you. you were the love of his life. the second you even call out his name, he's running up to you and asking if you need anything. you filled the empty void in the heart he forgot he had.

syzoth desperately wants you to like him as well. (he knows you probably won't ever love him the same way he loves you, but he can live with that.) he would always watch you carefully and any signs of your likes and dislikes are engraved in his brain. he would mold himself to embody what you desire, in hopes that he can be perfect for you, in hopes that he can gain your love and validation. even if he has to change many features of himself to win your heart forever, then so be it.

his loyalty to you will never falter, even if you do something terrible and unforgivable. he becomes entirely oblivious to any morally ambiguous actions you may commit. he firmly believes that whatever you do must be okay, so he goes along with it without a second thought, defending you from anyone who says otherwise. there are a lot of disgusting things that he would excuse if you were to do it. because you're his beloved, surely you can do no wrong?

sometimes he ends up feeling extremely conflicted with himself if you ever actually did anything unspeakable. because he thought it was wrong all his life, but you just did it. so it must be okay, right?

syzoth often gives you little gifts and trinkets that he randomly finds. if he sees something he think you would like, he would immediately grab it and present it to you like an offering. even though most of them are quite amusing, since he doesn't exactly know what makes something a good gift or not. but he believes it's the thought that counts, so he gives you anything he hopes would please you.

but sometimes, syzoth gets so desperate for your approval and attention, that he unintentionally gets himself hurt. but he doesn't mind. he would risk his life if it meant he got to see you smile at him.

he doesn't have a very clear image of his future with you. just as long as he gets to be with you. whether he does all the work, or he gets to live life right by your side as your equal, or even if he has must be behind you in your shadow. as long as you let him see you. as long as he can be there with you. but he would understand if you had a different view of your future together.

if you want syzoth to become a househusband, he'll learn to cook and clean for you. he may not be good at first, but he's trying. he'll try to find out how to make human food that you can enjoy. he'll practice cleaning until your living space is spotless and his arms fall off if he has to. if you want him to be the breadwinner, he'll take the role very seriously and he'll work as hard as he can so you can enjoy your life and he can come home to you every day. he doesn't care what he has to do. he'll do anything to please you.

syzoth knows better than to think that he is deserving of your love and kindness. the fact that you even let him be in the same vicinity as you is something that he is grateful for every day. even though he knows he isn't worthy of your affection, he still strives to gain it every day. at least a small glance in his direction would set his body on fire and make him feel complete bliss. however, he doesn't care about his feelings since you are still his first priority. so he understands if you wish to not even look at him. it would hurt him and he would sulk about it for a while, but he understands nonetheless.

when it comes to his competition, he does not consider murder. the thought appears in his head, but he ultimately knows that you probably would not be very pleased with him if he were to eliminate anyone pining for your affection in that manner. instead of doing anything about it, he simply becomes insecure. he would ask if you still loved him. he would plan to be even clingier than he usually is, and unintentionally guilt trip you into staying with him. he knows he looks pathetic, but if syzoth had to look like a fool in front of anyone, it would be you.

however, he knows he does not have any control over you. if you wished to get rid of him and move on to someone else, he would willingly accept it. but even though he accepts your judgement, he would end up doing something he can never come back from. so you probably should not leave him.

you became his whole reason for living. he believes he lives to please you. and he gains pleasure from *your* pleasure. if you ever think he is sick of catering to your needs and following you around like a lost puppy, he would be quite offended. he would instantly work towards making sure you never questioned his affections again. he doesn't get his feelings hurt often, but he just wants you to always feel secure in your relationship. so if you doubted him, he would just work harder to please you.

syzoth thinks you are the only thing left in the world that is pure. you are the only person that can truly make him happier than ever after all his pain. he almost became used to the tragedy and loss in his life as if it was his destiny. he was convinced there would no longer be happiness in his life. but you give him a reason to wake up every morning. you are all he thinks about in the afternoon. you are all he wants to see and embrace as he drifts to sleep at night.

he is glad he no longer has to have nightmares every night about all that he lost, and he instead dreams of you. he no longer has to be fearing his life every second of the day, instead he spends that time thinking of how to please you. syzoth loves you very much. he worships you. he appreciates you. no matter what. let him give you his heart, his soul, his body. he's all yours, and you may do whatever you want with him. he is at your service.

[kivaember]

Operator & Drifter Headcanons

as always when i fall headfirst into a new fandom with a character that lets you go all building blocks lego with their backstory/personality (to an extent), i've gone deranged with operator and drifter (and, of course, umbra, who's living rent free in my head alongside AC6's C4-621 and Walter).

since i've got my fic anthropomorphism with Umbra learning to be a space dad to Operator while Operator attempts the same in reverse, and am planning on writing the "Umbra in 1999 with Drifter" fic at some point next week... I was like right, gotta sit down and lock in, build the foundation for these characters that I can expand on and explore as I write. so under the cut, if you're curious about my rough plan for Operator and Drifter, read away~

OPERATOR:

Has forgotten their original name, since the Orokin hadn't been interested in that shit and either referred to them by their Warframe's name, or the serial number the Tenno had been given. As such, Operator has adopted "Operator" as their name.

They have no strong feelings about their gender. While biologically female, Operator has a very apathetic relationship with their gender or presentation and genuinely feels like it's an irrelevant detail about themselves - and their Warframes.

Their memory in general is fairly spotty, just going off of the Second Dream stuff. They remember bits and pieces, but ask them anything pre-Zariman and they draw a complete blank. As it's been centuries since then too, they have no way of ever knowing who they were pre-Zariman.

They act like an old man but have a subtle impish sense of humour.

They're very pragmatic - to the point where some may say they're cold - but that's usually when they're in "mission mode". Outside of that, they're a lot softer, but still fairly formal and stiff for a child.

They worry over Drifter quite a lot, and despite Drifter being older than them physically, Operator feels that they're more responsible than Drifter, and that Drifter is too naive.

Unintentionally, Operator underestimates Drifter.

Likes being the one to "take care of things". They're used to being relied upon, and are harsh on themselves if they fail to fix something or handle something adequetely.

They're also very empathetic, but this also ties in with their desire to "fix things". They can meddle overly much in other people's problems without asking, and get annoyed if they feel like their help is being rebuffed without good reason.

They prefer having Sentinels over live animals as battle companions, as they would stress overly much about keeping the animal alive in combat. They cover it up with the excuse of them just prefering the unfailing obedience of robots, though.

Socialising isn't really their strong point. They get along well with like-minded individuals (long stare at Umbra), but if interacting with children their age who act like children, they flounder a little and are out of their depth.

Preferred Warframes, aside from Umbra, are Voruna or Xaku. Preferred weaponry are battleaxes and either sniper rifles/automatic rifles. They are ruthlessly efficient in battle.

DRIFTER:

Like Operator, has also forgotten their name, and is content to use the name "Drifter" since that's what everyone called them in Duviri, and after several thousands of cycles, it just kinda stuck.

In 1999, though, they kept the nickname "Marty" for their KIM messenger ID, and the Hex use Drifter/Marty interchangeably, after a while.

Reason why Drifter likes "Marty" is because it's a nickname that isn't tangled up with Operator in some way. "Tenno", "Operator", even "Kiddo" - all those belong to Operator, but "Marty" is 100% Drifter's, even if it was an off-hand joke from Amir.

(Bonus that Marty is one letter away from being "Martyr")

Drifter also has no strong feelings about their gender, though they make an effort to present themselves as pretty ambiguous and are equally vague if people ask what their sex/gender is. Mostly it's because they never had to think about it overly much in Duviri, and in 1999 they're somewhat off-kilter at it being an actual topic of discussion, so they just try to avoid it lol

You can fit so many suppressed memories in this fella! Drifter remembers a lot more than Operator did about pre-Zariman, and their time on the Zariman itself, but don't like to dwell on it overly much.

Drifter is a master at compartmentalisation - to their own detriment.

They act far more youthful and childish than Operator, prone to getting excited or openly fascinated with new things, or expressing eagerness/impatience over desired stuff. Saying that, they know when they need to focus and when to act serious, but it does mean people do underestimate Drifter if they never get to see that side of them.

They can be surprisingly pragmatic in a cold and ruthless way, but they're able to balance that with their compassion.

They forget that they can't just die/kill themselves to avoid awkward situations anymore in 1999 - or, they can, but the Hex would likely be like "what the fuck is wrong with you" and that's a whole ugly can of oroworms Drifter isn't planning on delving into this century no siree.

They love fluffy animals - NONE OF THEM HAD FUR IN DUVIRI OKAY. NOT THE WOLVES. NOT THE SHEEP. NOT THE HORSES. NO FUR. DRIFTER SUFFERED IN A FURLESS HELL. So they love Kubrows. They love them a lot. And their floofs.

They sleep in a nest of floofs in 1999 sorry i don't make the rules

Socialising is their strong point, as the Tales of Duviri and their heavy reliance on the emotional regulation the story characters imparted, have Drifter terrifyingly adept and micromanaging their own emotions and keenly sussing out other people's.

This does mean they're VERY GOOD at manipulating people by playing on their emotions - but they only do it for good reasons (in their eyes)! Giving good advice and whatnot to the Hex, but also knowing when to lightly step around sensitive topics or how to navigate towards said topics without triggering an emotional landmine.

If Drifter was evil they would be terrifying tbh

Their preferred Warframes in 1999 are Umbra, Sevagoth and Dante. Preferred weaponry are nikana and pistol, simulating their time in Duviri. They also really like Dante's grimoire... they're efficient in battle but also like making a game of it, a holdover from their time in Duviri.

They also sometimes prefer fighting as a squishy human, usually when they're operating Umbra, and enjoy fighting side by side in melee combat. They're a real force of nature when they get going, those two...

[vaggieslefteye]

Alastor's facial expression journey as he says: "Almost makes one sentimental."

Interesting details: -The old radio effect on his voice clears up significantly as he says the words "almost makes." -The use of "one" as the subject of his sentence instead of "me." -Closing his eyes. Alastor decidedly does not look at this group of people while saying this line in particular, despite gazing fondly at them at the start. -Shaking his head. Alastor shakes his head a total of three times as he says the word "sentimental." Shaking one's head side-to-side is considered the universal gesture for no. -This entire moment happens in just over 2 seconds. (Not all frames of the animation are shown here) It's very blink-and-you'll-miss-it.

Of course I have my ideas as to what this could mean. However, attempting to truly prove anything via reading body language in fiction and/or real life is always a lost cause, given that it's pseudoscience and you can never know anything for sure with that information alone. So these are guesses based on what his body language may be suggesting given what we know of his personality, his history with the hotel gang, and the given context of this scene.

I can say this with confidence, though: I think something stirred in him here, and we're very lucky as the audience to have witnessed it.

Everyone during this "last night alive" scene is, in some way, acting with the idea that some or all of them will be dead the next morning. So there's a good chance for emotional provocation. It seems like not even Alastor is immune to it. Has he had these thoughts about getting attached to the group for an amount of time before this scene? Did it hit him right then and there? There's no way to tell. But either way, I think physically talking about it out loud can be a way for him to control it. He can acknowledge that the idea and possibility is there and real, but at the same time insist that it won't apply to him, even though it could.

And yet, it seems he can't look directly at them while acknowledging this hypothetical sentiment. Sometimes we as humans avert our eyes or shut them completely from things that cause discomfort. He also can't quite commit to saying "Almost makes me sentimental. / I admit, I could get accustomed..." and instead puts the burden of this scenario on "one," or, a person just in general. That's interesting. And shaking his head could mean a lot of different things: Is it to release tension? Is it him unconsciously emphasizing the "almost" in his statement, like saying almost, but not quite? Or in that same vein, trying to literally shake the idea of becoming sentimental off of his mind? Multiple of these? Who knows.

As for his voice becoming clearer... When asked during a Q and A if Alastor loses the static in his voice when he's being more honest/genuine, Medrano answered: "That's something I can't reveal. Obviously, that's a big tell." I guess the answer will come with time :)

With all that being said, I don't think these feelings he may be having here are that significant to him. At the end of the day, he's still egocentric as ever and, more than anything, wants his freedom from his deal and to be "pulling all the strings." Friendship with this group is simply a low priority or petty distraction to him at best, and something that could actively get in the way of these goals at worst. If anything, this scene served to plant a seed and provide crucial context for both the ambiguity of his feelings toward the hotel gang in general and for his verse in the song Finale - as well as provide setup for the next few seasons. Either way, it looks like he doesn't want to become attached to them and won't let himself, either.

IF there is sentiment present, this moment here is his attempt to nip it in the bud. Only time will tell whether he was successful or not.

[forrest-of-sins]

Hello!! I just binged reading all 3 parts of your cookie run X reader and I am IN LOVE with how you write shadow milk’s manipulation of Firefly. Fan art may be on the way!! See how my own motivation is! Got any flat colored pictures of firefly I could use as reference? (You also be cool with me drawing them more transmasc? I’m a trans guy so may or may not get a little self indulgent haha)

Some more thoughts of mine that aren’t art related. (OH MY GOD YOU HAVE A TUMBLR THAT I CAN INTERACT WITH!!!)

1st Fic: I was so so SO delighted at the reveal of pine cookie actually being alive! SM’s manipulation got me I guess haha (complements to the writer *tips my hat*)

The dance if puppets was so dark and lovely! AHH!! God I can’t stress how much I love the dark writing in this series!!

The slow corruption by Shadow milk’s. I like to think if it as a bad end timeline. Where SM and the beasts all escaped, although the ancients are still out there the beasts are more at charged and it gives that sweet apocalyptic vibe and adds to firefly’s fate. Where there is really likely no one that could save them due to how wastelandy it’s gotten. Leaving SM to have further ammunition to not only isolate firfly but manipulate them into truely believing SM is their only savior!

(Also love me a man that will force me into position <3)

2nd fic

Mmm yummy yummy touch starved. Mmm yes, good!! I think there is atleast 1 SM doll in that pile and there is no way to tell me otherwise! Firefly cuddles that bitch to sleep every morning! Bonus points if SM uses their more delusional sleepy state to talk to them through the doll! It’s like a walky talky when they’re lonely and SM is busy gutting some cookies to death! Let them have just a little bit of Firefly’s self indulgence!

3rd: GOD I AM GNAWING AND TEARING AT EVERYTHING!!!! Dude I KNEW as soon as I read SM was looking out into the forest something was up! Even if firefly is a little bit too dumb dumb I’M NOT!! I KNOW HE WAS UP TO SOMETHING!! And oooooohhhhhh! Was I very rewarded. Pine cookie not only shown to also being toyed with by SM in a different way bit FORCED by the beasts are to watch as who they knew as a friend is turned into a pawn that only wants SM and hates them!! YES!!! GOOD SHIT!!!

The cat and mouse game was sooo good to read!!

A fanfic that not only is good at smut but ALSO HAS A GOOD STORY?!

All of this to say I am eatting your depiction of Shadow Milk. My fangs are bitting his limbs iff as I eat him whole!! Good yummy yummy!!!

hiya!! thank you so much for reading and enjoying the fic, im very pleased that you think its both good narratively and in regards to the smut not bein too shoehorned in! :D

it's very flattering that you'd consider making fanart too tho, omg, please tag me if you do! ;///; and of course you can make em more transmasc! everything about their appearance is ambiguous in the fic so honestly go crazy with it- that goes for anybody else that wants to doodle em too! :] here's a lil ref for em, sorry if its a bit scuffed!

now, for the rest of your ask! >:3

I adore writing dark fics hehe, so I'm glad that you think that its alright in that aspect! I wanna keep pushing it further and further as the story goes on, it's gonna be one no good very bad time for all involved in it >:L

I love the idea of the fic being set in a beasts won world tho omg..its a very good excuse as to why certain other cookies aren't about fgfhjg :'L

I'll defo have to draw a sleeped up Firefly mumbling to a Smilk plush omggg, that's a huge big brain idea!! silly bug cookie gets gaslit by wretched jester plushie...what a fool.......

ehehehe, i think the third fic was defo the most fun i had with the series at that point and it shows with the amount of cruelty Smilk displays towards Pine and Firefly lol, it's definitely a huge turning point for the both of their characters :3 I'm glad you like how i write Smilk, cause he's only gonna become more of a bastard as time goes on!

thank you again for your support and enthusiasm for the series, this put a huge smile on my face when i first saw this ask!! :D

[mummers-of-the-heart]

To Be Free - Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x GN!Reader

Premise: The chains of caring weigh heavy.

Word Count: 225 words

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Trigger Warning for themes of murder, yandere, loss of control, manipulation, ambiguous ending, and general creepy things. Also possible OOC. Not beta read or edited. Written in 45 minutes while sleep deprived.

Spoilers for the ending of season 1 of Hazbin Hotel and the subject matter here is dark. If anyone is a BSD fan, you likely already know what to expect because it is inspired by that one character. Can be read as romantic or platonic. Also tried to keep aroace in mind with writing this. Even as someone who is aroace spec, it can be hard to express at time.

Alastor collected eccentrics. People that stood out in an entertaining way particularly. With them, he could simply stretch out a hand and play them like a fiddle as they grasped for any sort of connection.

Exert control over others.

It gave him a feeling of control that was clipped away from him. Do unto others what was done to him.

You were just another part of his collection.

You struggled to maintain your perceived humanity in hell. He watched. He laughed. He toyed.

For years, he saw you hopelessly toil away.

Alastor didn't know when he started to care. It was something he never noticed.

Perhaps it was when you managed to get your hands on some old vinyl and hummed along to the songs he listened to while he was still alive.

Maybe your attempts to cook foods similar to your favorites in the human world wormed their way into his heart.

It wasn't until he realized the damage Adam had done to him that a small itch grew in the back of his mind.

Oh, how he hated it.

How those strong emotions chained him. That realization was suffocating. Tighter and tighter they grew with each second.

What was different about these feelings and the contract?

Kill.

That attachment tied him to another person. It limited him. It took away even more control. It...

His claws dug deeper.

Be free.

Like what you read? Reblog or share your thoughts. I always love to improve my writing and discuss the thought process behind it.

[anadrym]

Extended Author's Notes for Left Behind Ch10.

Spoilers!

Chapter title is from "Bite Marks" from the League of Legends 2025 Cinematic.

Cait's POV for this chapter was originally part of the last chapter. It ended up being long enough that I felt like splitting it, which also let Chapter 9 be entirely H/C.

I'm quite fond of the grotesque image of two lovers decaying together. I also was thinking about that one lesbian grave sculpture and of the bodies at Pompeii.

Vi hears them coming before Cait does because she's spent the past five years listening for people coming down these hallways. :(

Ugh, the gut punch of not letting Cait protect Vi now. Of forcing her to let Vi go, even briefly, after just finally getting her back. And Vi, who desperately wants to feel safe, also having to give that up to give them a chance to escape.

I don't really know how to word this, but there's something about Vi grabbing Cait's wrist to stop her from taking her gun to open the door. She's not afraid that Cait will hurt her. She knows that Cait can be brash when she's emotional. She's protecting Cait even in this state.

And then Caitlyn's willingness to stop and try to understand? I actually love how much of this fic has ended up focusing on nonverbal communication, because I really think these characters are so good at reading each other and still would be even after years of separation.

I like shaking up the red-blue/reactive-calm dynamic between these two. Yes, Vi can be quick to anger and liable to lash out. But. I do really like Vi being a sort of moderating influence on Cait, because I think Cait is also prone to outbursts when she's pissed (esp. in this fic). I just really like them being good for each other.

The smugglers! Tomorrow! Conveniently contrived coincidences? In MY fanfic? It's more likely than you think.

STOP TOUCHING EACH OTHER, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I'M LOSING MY MIND.

And as soon as Caitlyn makes the start of a plan (because Vi knows that she didn't put the gun down in surrender), Vi's all in. Locking down her own fear, steeling herself for what's coming, willing to face whatever's about to happen because she trusts Caitlyn to get them out. I'm love them. So. much.

I am very fond of the imagery of Caitlyn pulling on Cassandra's "imperious persona like an old and familiar cloak." Her mom taught her so much, y'all. I won't hear a word against her, she is so much of who Caitlyn is.

I don't know how sucessful I was at keeping the Baroness's knowledge ambiguous, especially with the switching POVs. Vi never directly thought about it, but she's definitely experienced things that would indicate that Renata is fully aware of Vi being alive (ie. the scene in Ch2 where Renata talks to her after her guests have left; why taunt someone you don't think is there?). But Caitlyn hasn't been sure one way or the other until this chapter (and part of that is that she's just been too overwhelmed to actually stop and think about it).

It's going to be a bit before Caitlyn finally works up the courage to ask Vi about the Baroness letting other people "use" her. Which means she's mentally tormenting herself about it the whole time. :(

So obviously not all of Vi's detached expressions have been an act; she really has been 'out of it' a lot. But she absolutely does use it to hide her awareness from her captors.

The Baroness sending Vi to Caitlyn's room was a major mistake on her part. Caitlyn implying that she actually did anything with Vi, though? She just fucked up. Renata is pretty confident that Caitlyn wouldn't do that, especially not this soon; the reason she sent Vi in the first place was to get in Cait's head. So Caitlyn acting like it didn't shake her to her core leads the Baroness to suspect that something else might be going on. However - and this is really important - she still doesn't think that Vi can break out of her mental prison, so she's not as suspicious as she should be. She's still too over-confident.

Hooray! Caitlyn has eaten one (1) bite of bread! (Though I do think the bite of croissant has worn off by now.)

I want you guys to know how much I am struggling with Vi here. I need her to be basically incapacitated (otherwise she and Cait would have a slight advantage), but I don't want her to be useless. She just went through Maintenance twice in a short period, so she's in a lot of pain and she's losing time. But she has to be aware enough to keep track of what's going on. Why did I do this to myself?

Basically, Vi's entire POV in this chapter is to help explain how she regains enough strength and clarity to get her through the escape.

God, they are both so worried about each other. Vi imagining what might happen to Caitlyn if Vi dies? Of course. Of course that's what she's scared of. Of course her deepest fear is of Caitlyn suffering the same way she has.

Vi still hasn't quite remembered her own name. Soon though. ;)

I briefly toyed with the idea of having the handler hose Vi down, but I didn't like the... implications, I guess? I don't know, it's just kinda the same reason Vi still has her undergarments on during Maintenance. I didn't want her to have to be that vulnerable (in that way) in front of people she doesn't trust? Now that I think about it, I really want the Baroness to feel like the cruelest and most dangerous threat. I want the violation (both mental and physical) to clearly NOT be sexual.

One of you pointed it out in your comment: Yes! Vi is remembering the showers at Stillwater! I didn't want all of her memories to be either "good" or "Purge".

There are obvious differences between the nutrient IV and Maintenance: one vs three doctors, sitting vs lying down, unrestrained vs strapped to the table, catheter port on her chest vs directly into multiple veins, almost daily vs once a month or so. Vi's just freaking out right now. It's the same reason she misunderstands the comments about the nutrient feed ("increased dosage" and "soon") as being about Maintenance.

Speaking of. Vi's had a catheter port on her chest this whole time (apparently pretty common for someone who's getting all their nutrients intravenously). There's no reason not to administer the controlling/impairing drug the same way, except to cause more mental and physical torture. The Baroness knows exactly what she's been doing this whole time.

Uh-oh, what was that about Vi's left thigh hurting more than the rest of her body? I'm sure that's nothing. I'm sure it'll be fine. :)

Next week's chapter is all Cait's POV (and the one after that is all Vi's). Teaser:

The Baroness had given her an exact address; this is not a test of her skill in tracking someone down. This entirely about her willingness to follow orders, to kill on command without question. Vaguely, she wonders if the Baroness is aware that whatever loyalty Caitlyn proves here is to Vi, and Vi only.

She scoffs at herself. Of course the Baroness knows that the only control she has over Caitlyn is her hold on Vi. But if they don't make it out tomorrow, it won't matter.

[animentality]

Tbh I think it's still legit if you read and like Blue Lock for being so gay (at least subtextually), despite being misogynistic Kaneshiro seems to have sympathy for queer people to a certain degree. Besides the gay sidekick, As The Gods Will also has some other queer side characters (a lesbian, a trans girl, a few more hinted gay boys and a non-binary villain according to my memory) even though not all of them are well-written, the good ones are good. Specifically my most favorite is the gay sidekick Ushimitsu, he's actually a pretty well-rounded character with very strong role as a co-lead in ATGW 2, I never feel like he was disrespected in the story (rather I think he's obviously Kaneshiro's favorite), sure he's got an open ending that can be seen as tragic but it's actually in line of the whole theme of the story and I respect Kaneshiro to commit to writing it rather than just give a copout happy ending and it also proves his gay feelings as real & deep despite heartbreaking.

Now I wish Kaneshiro can have that same energy in writing Bachira as he's in a similar position to Ushimitsu in ATGW but somehow poor bee boy got pushed aside in bllk after U20 arc (probably in favor of more popular Isagi ship with Rin or Kaiser 🙃), I hope he makes good on the promise that Bachira will be a key character later in the series and this time since nobody will die in Bllk I hope Bachisagi will get a deserved happy ending.

well that's the thing, anon.

I feel bad for liking blue lock because it has such a misogynistic creator but it's hard not to cling to something so obviously queer friendly.

like honestly.

there's definitely Japanese media that's queer neutral or queer friendly but blue lock actually feels like it's always on the verge of just being properly queer.

it's not fanservice like free or yuri on ice. it legitimately feels as close to canon as it can get without changing genres. and I think the creator having queer characters in the past gives him some street cred.

i know what homophobia in a manga looks like. it's that awful rapist character from one punch man. this hyper masculine but also hyper feminine muscly man who sexually assaults other men.

it's tokyo ghoul having its only queer characters being pedophiles, rapists, and sex addicts/victims who get sexually assaulted until they're "corrected."

it's having no subtext at all and only ever using gay men as a one off joke and gay women as a fetish.

at least blue lock does seem to respect its characters enough that it takes their hinted at sexualities seriously.

it really doesn't go for the obvious "ewwwwww we're both guys" jokes. it's kept very ambiguous. it's subtle (except when it's not, lol).

the only character who really fits the usual offensive gay anime representation tropes is Shidou, but even him I wouldn't count as bad rep (as the closest to canonically gay character, aside from Bachira).

Shidou might be super flamboyant but he also gets to have the coolest fucking moments in the series. he's not just some pervert, he's a badass. he doesn't just flounder around like some useless weird loser who only exists to be the butt of a joke.

he loves to fight and play soccer and feel alive. he has the coolest aura in the series and everyone is constantly in awe of the ridiculous things he can do.

he's a proper villain, who's out of pocket and insane, but who's also intensely lovable and silly. and honestly portrayed pretty sympathetically. for all his faults, he can be very kind.

there's a lot of depth to him, and honestly, I think Blue Lock is pretty good at not doing anything to suggest oh hahaha homosexuality exists. isn't that funny

plus I think Bachira is canonically gay. we know he's canonically in love with Isagi.

kunigami and aiku are actually confirmed bisexual too.

Shidou and Sae were also highly suspect during u20, to the point where even homophobes cant deny they have something weird going on.

so to me... that's a lot of queer characters who are taken seriously and actually have characters outside of being a joke or a gag. they feel like real people. they have distinct personalities.

the bar is in hell, but it's more than most manga/anime manage.

so I have to give Kaneshiro credit. he's doing as much as he can, without overstepping the boundary I'm sure kodansha has set for him.

it's just a shame he's a sexist. also, I hope Kaneshiro grows a pair.

just have bachisagi get married in the last chapter you pussy.

let Shidou officiate!!!

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Jouno's "Death" and Characterization

Actually I'm adding onto my thoughts about Jouno's death scene because it really is brutal, even compared to the earlier "deaths" of the arc.

[ID: A screenshot from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. A vampirized Akutagawa bites into Jouno's shoulder. Blood spatters on Jouno's face, scrunched up in pain. End ID.]

I binge-read the manga very quickly on my first read, and so I think there was a lot that I kind of overlooked, especially when it came to Jouno and his characterization. I found the guy interesting, but I wasn't as invested in his character as I was with some of the others.

But even then, his death shocked me with how... cruel it was. And going back and really paying close attention to his character, it hurts a lot more.

[ID: A set of three images from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. In the first, a speech bubble says "You have what it takes to join the Decay of Angels." Jouno's face is carefully neutral and he says nothing for a panel. In the next, face still neutral, he says "What are you saying?" In the second, a panel of Jouno, bound and smiling in prisoner's garb, is overlayed by Fukuchi saying "Jouno, you were originally an executive in a criminal organization. Seeing the good prospects in your ability and that sense of hearing, I recruited you six years ago, for the sake of this day." Jouno lifts an eyebrow with a small frown on his face and exhales a small puff of air. In the third, Jouno, smiling, says "Yes. From the start, I've known no pleasure but that of tormenting others. Besides, you even said it, that you initially recruited me for the sake of this day." His smile looks a little tight. End ID.]

Looking at Jouno's face here... I'd honestly say he's a bit hurt by this turn of events. He has a very similar background to Dazai. This is the equivalent of Dazai being told that he was only hired by the Agency because they actually wanted him to take up the mantle of the Demon Prodigy again, but this time for their benefit. Because that's his true nature, right?

Jouno was only recruited... because he was never believed in. He was Fukuchi's little criminal pet project, one that didn't go as he intended at all - and Jouno dies for it, only shortly after he starts to get accustomed to the idea of himself as a good guy (even if he's still... morally ambiguous, to be diplomatic about it lol).

But yeah, let's take a second and look at Jouno's particular brand of cruelty - that sadistic streak where he wants to hear the suffering of others... and how easily this was overshadowed by one old woman's quiet gratitude. Fukuchi remembers the beginning of this scene... but he's left unaware of the aftermath of it and how Jouno changed (fitting, for the man forever caught up in the war; who still lives like he's on the battlefield). Jouno is largely self-preservative - it seems likely that, given his criminal background, you stayed alive by asserting your power over others, and Jouno does this by striking fear into others and deriving pleasure in that reaction - but it pales in comparison to appreciation, which Jouno states makes the sounds of fear like silence. The old lady is such a small thing really, but it apparently left a huge impact on him.

I think it's quite a decision made to characterize a guy who is hyper-sensitive to sensory input as being strongly affected by the kind of reactions he gets from others. Jouno compensates with fear and intimidation, but he actually wants to be appreciated. Whether Jouno genuinely cares about justice as an ideal is up for debate still, I believe, but we can be positive he likes being liked far more than he likes being feared. So, while Jouno thought he was appreciated for his pursuit of justice under Fukuchi, and had come to the realization that he prefers helping over harming - his role with the Hunting Dogs was always a cage. Jouno was likely essentially drafted - he joins or he is probably sentenced to capital punishment. Obviously, he takes the offer - as Jouno does not want to die (again, remember he's self-preservative!). Now he's stuck as a Hunting Dog due to the intense monthly surgeries to maintain their bodies, but he's made a pretty sweet life for himself - Jouno is powerful, respected, feared, and he basically gets to act however he wants so long as he is ostensibly pursuing justice (a corrupt cop, really)... only for him to realize he actually does want to help more than hurt, and to then have it be revealed that he was never expected to change for the better from the very beginning.

He was drafted due to this expectation Fukuchi had for him, and when he did not live up to this expectation... his exits are blocked, he's set on fire to stop him escaping, then stabbed from all directions, like one would trap and corner a threat that needs to be contained, or a wild animal. There's... some pretty significant dehumanization to that.

It gets worse though, because Fukuchi is right about Jouno being different from the other Hunting Dogs, but he's off the mark on what's different about him exactly. The difference is largely in that even though Jouno took precautions in case he couldn't make it out (having Aya follow him), he is not devoted (or solely devoted) to that ideal of justice that drives the rest of the Hunting Dogs, nor was he at all intending to sacrifice himself or accepting of that fate.

[ID: A panel from the Bungou Stay Dogs manga. Jouno wears a concerned expression, a sweat drop on his cheek. His hair flies up a little as he moves across a background of dark lines for dramatic emphasis. The sound effect is a shudder. End ID.]

"Be strong... there's nothing to worry about/Don't panic, it's all fine" <-The words of a man who is very much trying not to panic (also Yuki Kaji did a great job in this scene - chefs kiss. The voice acting in the anime is so so good). Jouno's mental narration grows increasingly more desperate in his attempts to escape, even as he outwardly continues that show of pride and bravado, concluding with his "wish" to hear Fukuchi's later suffering - which is what he does to avoid letting others see vulnerability in him.

All the other people who died to Fukuchi had some kind of acceptance around it - Akutagawa sacrificed himself to allow Atsushi to escape and was accepting of that; Tachihara had no intention of a sacrifice play but was prepared to die rather than be turned by Bram, and found his resolve through a mix of the Mafia's and Teruko's influence. Jouno was not ready to die at any point in this fight, nor was that ever his intent.

About Jouno's dynamic with Tecchou: I find it really interesting that the closing and opening lines of the chapter where Jouno slashes at Fukuchi and "betrays" him are things like "at heart there is one intent" and "if there is evil, cleave it" - while they're really just the external hooks for the audience, not any character's thoughts or anything, I do find it intriguing that this sounds a lot more like Tecchou's philosophy than anything we'd seen of Jouno up to this point. In this way, I think Tecchou (and Teruko as well!) has had far more of an influence on Jouno than even he cares to admit.

And I think it's really good that Tecchou appears to be there for Jouno - he's got conviction in his capacity for justice as strong as a samurai and the ability to call him out and believe in him like that of a best friend. While Jouno's death is brutal, it actually validates Tecchou's belief in him - but this is not something anyone else really seems to see in Jouno, perhaps even Jouno himself until that moment. It recontextualizes their interactions: Jouno is the challenger. Tecchou just seems to kind of humour him, really. He doesn't treat Jouno like a threat or an obstacle. He's completely unafraid of him, either simply not reacting to his goads and threats, or calling him out on his bs when he takes his cruelty too far. It's like Tecchou's socializing a feral cat sometimes hjfhdbjvh

But remember that Jouno's grandstanding and desire to instill fear is likely self-preservative. Jouno sees Tecchou unafraid of him and goes "why is it not working??? He must think he's stronger or better than me, or else, he's just really stupid. I need to prove myself stronger than him so he doesn't think he can gain the upper hand on me." And meanwhile, Tecchou is just like "ok buddy let's go get some lunch. I like spending time with Jouno even though he's apparently mad at me for something idk what." Because Tecchou's lack of fear isn't actually because he's cocky or an idiot, or because he doubts Jouno's skill or strength - far from it. He knows full well how dangerous Jouno is. He just thinks "Jouno wouldn't do that". And it's that simple to him. I honestly believe Jouno hasn't quite figured that part out yet, and that he's reading his dynamic with Tecchou entirely wrong on his end. It's the epitome of that rival dynamic where one takes it super seriously and the other is just like "cool man anyways wanna hang out". Anyways I really hope their reunion is given some attention, when it happens.

You might've noticed I said "when it happens" and also that I put death in quotes at the top there - I actually have a question for all of you since I just thought of this on my re-read. Jouno was stabbed multiple times but since he's a Hunting Dog with advanced healing and enhancements I sincerely doubt that actually killed him. Then he was bitten... but the vampires seem to turn really quickly, and we see Jouno's thoughts for a while afterwards. Jouno didn't actually die in that scene, as it's stated he's "near death", and he's captured and taken somewhere by Akutagawa. It's highly likely he was just turned into a vampire, as he was bitten (perhaps his enhancements make the vampire ability take longer to get a hold), but I'm kind of wondering now if he wasn't "taken with them" for some other purpose and Fukuchi has him captured or comatose or something. Well, whatever happens... I hope he comes back to the manga at some point soon (though probably at this arc's conclusion if I'm being honest).