K-On Walked So That Bocchi Could...

Oh look at me and my homework 😍. I have so many shit pending rn wtf

HEY MY POO POO POOPY SHIT

irdk

IM YOUR POO POO WHAT

[author’s note] sanzu is a toman boy too, but I’m excluding him because there’s a limit of 10 photos per post (5 character banners and 5 breaks is 10 🤷🏾‍♀️)... should I just stop using breaks or...?

toman boys reaction to dreaming of dead s/o | mitsuya, hakkai, kazutora, smily, angry.

warnings: angst, cussing, panic, death of reader in dream, brief mention of vomit, gn!reader.

@voldyshit-1997 said: “How do you think the tokyo revenger characters reacting to dreaming of their dead s/o”

part 1 (mikey, draken, baji, chifuyu, takemitchi)

— I can actually see him getting seriously ill over this, like damn near tripping and falling to get to the bathroom before he throws up.

— or he could be really surprisingly chill about it.

— he could just wake up and feel as though the room is incredibly hot for no reason.

— probably tosses the sheets off of his bed because it feels like he’s suffocating.

— scared.

— trembling a bit, but laughs at himself because he swears he’s been through worst.

— tries to talk himself out of calling you, or going to see you, or telling you to come over in the middle of the night.

— but he can’t. he ends up dialling your number wrong several times because his fingers keep shaking and he almost gives up and goes back to sleep but then the phone begins to ring and he just wants to see if you’ll answer.

— and you do.

— he finds himself trying to force a smile so that he doesn’t cry as you sleepily say, “hello?”

— he says nothing in reply, afraid that his voice’ll break and that you’ll know that he isn’t as strong as you thought.

— he gets kind of tired of being the big bro all the time.

— sometimes he needs to be comforted too.

— “... takashi?” you whisper, unknowingly bringing tears to his eyes as he wipes them away with an annoyed sigh. he shouldn’t cry, it’s not who he is, but he just can’t help it.

— “takashi, you there?” and he knows he should let you hang up, he knows that he should just let you believe that maybe he dialled you up by accident late at night, but he can’t stop himself from speaking.

— “m’here.” he says quietly.

— “do you... do you need something?”

— he wants to say no. god, he really wants to say no.

— he wants to leave you alone so you can get that sleep you so desperately need but he can’t stop himself.

— “hey, uhm, (y/n)?” stop, stop, stop.

— “yea?”

— “do you think you could, uh...” stop. stop it. just leave them alone and go back to sleep. stop it. “do you think you could come over?”

— he waits in silence for what feels like an eternity before you let out an exasperated sigh and he hears rustling, like you’re pulling on clothes.

— and he finds himself scrambling to tell you not to come, and that it was stupid of him to ask, but you reassure him that it’s fine and that you’ll be there soon.

— but when you go to hang up, he lets out a panicked, “wait.”

— and he doesn’t bother to explain himself or say anything, he just sits in silence while you leave the call open.

— you can tell he’s worried and that he doesn’t want you to hang up so you don’t, making you way over to his house.

— once you get there, he immediately opens the door and pulls you in.

— the two of you make your way to his room and he pulls you into his bed without much thought.

— he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t hang up the phone either. he just tries his best to relax now they you’re in his presence.

— crybaby central.

— let me not clown him like that.

— anyway, mans most definitely sheds a tear or two. either that, or the second he wakes up, he’s flinging himself out of the house and going to find you.

— he likely tries to seek comfort from yuzhua first so that he doesn’t have to come and bother you, but yuzhua isn’t very good at comfort and her “comfort” isn’t giving what it should have gave.

— she probably bats him away in her sleep and he ends up coming to find you anyway.

— is very quiet and calm when he comes to knock on your door.

— just smiles at you, content to see that you’re alive and well.

— but please do not ask him if he’s okay.

— mf WILL start bawling.

— and he’s a rather loud crier too.

— low-key hopes that you invite him in because he wants to be with you right now.

— if you do let him in, expect him to be super clingy upon entry because he is here for comfort.

— most likely doesn’t bother telling you what’s up, just needs your presence to relax him enough to where he can get back to sleep because he is most definitely tired.

— probably falls asleep before you and wakes up late the next day because your presence is just so comforting to him.

— will definitely overplay the nightmare thing so that he can sleep over again. :)

— shocked and scared at the same time, but not really.

— kazutora has had a very rough life, he has seen worse in reality than anything he has ever seen in a dream.

— but even still, the sight of you pale and lifeless in a fleeting dream might work him to tears.

— you mean a lot to him. way more than he’s willing to admit.

— he likes to think that he can be there to protect you but he knows he won’t be there all the time and that’s what worries him.

— texts you to see if you’re up.

— please reply or else he’ll call.

— if you don’t answer, best believe he will show up to your house and will break in.

— don’t play with him 🖐️

— answer the phone 🔫

— he will pick the lock to your window, he doesn’t care.

— all those years in juvie surely taught him something about a lock or two.

— don’t freak out if you catch him staring blankly at you at 2 in the morning.

— most likely was watching you sleep to see if you were breathing or not.

— had to make sure.

— you know, just in case :)

— might tap you gently to wake you up because he’s selfish and would like to talk to you for a moment.

— “hey, (y/n)... (y/n)?”

— wake up 🔫

— will not leave until you wake up, even if you don’t, he’ll just slide into your bed anyway.

— make himself comfortable and all, sliding his arm under your head to make sure you’re supported and then just catching the rhythm of your breath and heartbeat until he too falls asleep.

— probably wakes up to you screaming because what tf is he doing in your house anyway?

— like mf, get out. lmao

— will not leave though. will guilt trip you into letting him say the night for another night or so.

— will milk it as long as he can.

— let him stay the night :)

— gets pissed off at his brain for making him see that?

— he is more concerned about his own mental state than he is about you for a second.

— has a “what the fuck did I just see” kind of reaction.

— has to tie his hair up into a curly top knot and rub the sleep from his eyes because he is so out of it for a good half an hour.

— once he has a chance to get grounded, he most likely either calls you and tells you he’s coming over or just comes over without saying anything

— he does NOT care whether you want to see him or not, either leave the window open or be at the door by the time he arrives because he’s coming regardless

— don’t try to turn him away, he’s spending the night whether you like it or not.

— “nahoya, what the fuck? it’s like, 1 in the morning!”

— “okay, and? 😑”

— deadass pushes you out of the way.

— better make room for him on your bed or he will shove you, he does not care.

— but once you two settle down, he might tell you about the dream and you can see he has a hard time doing so.

— he keeps swallowing like there’s a lump in his throat and you offer to get him water but he grabs you so suddenly and shakes his head.

— “but don’t you need something to drink?”

— “uh, no. I’m...good. don’t worry about it.” with an uneasy grin on his face, his grip tightening just a little around your arm.

— please don’t leave, he’s a lil’ sensitive right now.

— won’t admit it, but he is actually very worried.

— he knows that he can protect you but he worries about when he’s not around.

— might let you learn to fight from toman, or might just as them to look out for you.

— but either way, he’s gonna make sure you’re taken care of.

— he can’t lose you.

— it really fucks him up.

— he gets physically ill just remembering the dream, let alone experiencing it for the first time.

— kind of jolts out of his sleep.

— he isn’t really sure what to do.

— he tries his best not to bother you but he can’t help but call you up in the middle of the night.

— “...hello, sou?”

— he cuts you off, “can I come over?”

— you try to explain that it’s the middle of the night and that whatever it is can wait ‘til morning, but he starts hiccuping like he does when he’s about to cry so you immediately switch up and tell him he can come over.

— arrives surprisingly fast, and knocks on the front door rather than coming through the window like some people.

— will immediately crawl into your bed.

— you don’t even have to be in it, your lingering warmth and scent is enough to put him right to sleep.

— but if he has a lil’ bit of a harder time getting to bed, then he’ll quickly usher you over and then ask for you to run your fingers through his hair.

— his scalp is really sensitive, so every brush of your fingers has a nice lil’ chill running down his spine.

— it feels so good that he is probably to sleep in seconds.

— will wake up refreshed and likely won’t even remember the dream or how he got there.

— but he’ll be content, just seeing your sleeping face as you have yet to wake up.

— your fingers are likely stuck in his curls though because I swear he has serious bed head.

CUMNADOESS 😋

falling in love with him (mwah mwah mmwhawnmhawha) childe pppoookikeikeieke modern au? reader is like childe's age dwdwdwdwdw not proofread and uhhh uh idfk cumnados OH AND GN READER

childe "im hurrying!' you screamed to your best friend venti, you both were going out to eat for your 21st birthday at this relatively fancy restaurant with a few of your friends. a pretty basic birthday tradition, still a good one nonetheless. so there you are, getting a ride in venti's car all the way to xxx restaurant, music on full volume, and the windows rolled down. 'TURN HERE VENTI.' trying to scream over the loud music, venti managed to hear you, turning left into the restaurant and seeing 10 to 15 of your friends outside waving you over for a picture. 'SMILE!' beido screamed, snapping a picture of everybody around you, with big smiles. 'can we eat now im fucking starving~' venti said, tilting his head back and groaning. opening the door, the cool air reached you with a sigh of relief, your guys' table was cleaned and ready for whatever mess you guys were going to make out of it. everything was...fine, no it was amazing. everybody was laughing, drinking, and telling funny stories whilst waiting for the waiter to come and start the orders. 'alright, who wants to order first?!' you look up from the menu, and god dawhm...he was a tall and handsome and muscle ginger. 'y.n you can go first!' kaeya waved towards you to go ahead and order your drink. 'ill have some uh..margarita..?' you spoke, the handsome guy laughed, you read his name tag 'ajax' and then scribbles of 'childe' placed above his name. 'and your id?' 'i..oh yea!' fumbling in your back pocket, your friends laughed silently, watching you fall for the waiter you'll probably see 2 times in your life.

handing your id over to the handsome man, he smiled 'happy birthday!' while handing it back, moving on to take drink orders from the rest of your friends, you simply smiling and daydreaming about this newfound ''ajax'' 'ill be right out with those!' he spoke, putting his pen pad back into the apron he was wearing, hurrying back into the kitchen.

just as he left your friends burst into laughter, making fun of you (lovingly) and you laughed along with them, still a bit embarrassed. 'he's coming back~' kaeya leaned over and wispered into your ear, causing your head to shoot up looking at him coming over with a black shirt that was to tight for him (please get this man a bigger size.) ajax started putting the glasses down on the table, asking where this and that goes, and last but not least your drink comes along, so you took a sip just as he was leaving, then spit it out. all of your friends broke out in laughter, including ajax. whilst you start apologizing to everyone around you who now has margarita and spit on their pants and shirt. 'it appears you weren't quite ready for your first drink dear?' ajax came behind your with a cloth while everybody picked up their glasses to make his job easier. everybodys laughter died down, but you were just focusing on how he called you dear, do you call a stranger dear? maybe he's just being friendly? your mind was quite flustered, but all went over smoothly, and instead, you just took sips of everybody else's drink. and here ajax comes again, you took deep breaths in order to not embarrass yourself in front of him again. 'alright food orders? more alcohol?' everybody goes around with their food orders and some alcohol orders. 'and for you, big 21?' 'can i have...a cheeseburger, yea a cheeseburger.' looking up from your menu he was slyly smiling at you while writing your order down, not even looking at the paper. 'ill be right out with those!' he sliped away into the crowd of waiters, and into the kitchen doors, you let out a sigh. 'you should ask for his number if you love him so much.' albedo spoke, sipping on his drink. 'you know what! i will!' getting the confidence, the next time he comes over, you'd ask for his number.

well time passes, and passes, and passes terribly slow, you were having a good time no doubt about it, but you were scared for the next time ajax would walk over with the food. and as if it was planned, ajax walked in carring a plater of food. 'ok and here we have a cheeseburger, then a xxxx and....' as he matched the food with each face you mustered up the courage to ask him 'excuse me...ajax?' he turned back around at the call his name 'yes?' 'can i have your number..imeanyoudonthavetogiveittomethatsfineiwasjustwandering' fumbling with your hands, your friends were grinning with excitement, waiting for his answer he just chuckled and pulled out some paper. 'of course~' writing his number down on the paper, he put it next to your plate and rushed away to grab another order from a table to the right of you. 'you actually did it!' kaeya laughed, and nearly everybody joined in. 'that proves you albedo!' you said, pointing at him 'i never doubted you.' monotone voice as always. still sipping on his drink, staring at everybody else in the restaurant. finally, you looked at the paper as everyone kept on their conversations about this and that. the paper was messily ripped out of a pass order with barely legible numbers on it with a 'call me!' with arrows pointing to the numbers, this made you smile as you shoved the piece of paper in your pocket, waiting to call him when you got home.

time passed with multiple laughs and it was time to go home, after having cake and singing happy birthday, kaeya drove you home since venti was too drunk to even walk. 'are you going to call him?' 'of course i am!' you spoke, looking out the window of the car, fumbling with the piece of paper in your pocket. slowing down at your driveway, kaeya droped you off at your house.

when you got inside you kicked your shoes off and hurried to call him. jumping on your bed, you kicked your feet back and forth like some girl from a 2000s' movie. 'ok 1..2..3!' you press the call button and the ringer went two maybe three times before a voice picked up. 'hello?' your eyes widen, you never thought he'd pick up, it was the middle of the night for fucks sake! 'hi...this is y.n. the guy you uh, gave your number to at xxx' your voice was stumbling over every other word. laughter was heard from the other end of the line 'that guy who spit his drink out! of course, how could i forget someone like you!' you stood there shocked, was that a compliment or an insult? 'i find it cute don't worry~' leaning into the phone, you could hear him chuckling at the end of his statement. 'well uh.. what are you doing right now ajax?' you asked, getting changed into pajamas. 'nothing much, getting off work. what about you y.n?' 'getting ready to sleep.' you answered dully, the excitement and nervousness of calling ajax was now gone, and you were getting tired. 'so! are you free on sunday? maybe for dinner?' that caught you off guard. 'yea...i am..' 'see you then!' the beep of the phone hit your ears as you smiled, you finally got a boyfriend

Awww imagine reposting and translating someone work.

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT !!

So, an anon informed me that my work was reposted and translated onto wattpad by the account: yukobit0. While in the process of looking for my post, I found many others who are big in the hashtag tokyo revengers. I just wanted to inform you all incase you were unaware. On my blog it specifically states my work is not to be reposted onto other platforms!! The person running the obit00 account did credit the original poster in the beginning of each ‘chapter’ on wattpad. Even so, many of these creators specifically say they do not want their work reposted. Please report the account or dm them so that they may take it down. Below are images. I tagged some people who’s @‘s I saw. Though I only got up to chapter 38 (my post) and I did not @ everyone I saw. If you see others please @ them!

@hqnma @mitsukeys @kazuluvr @kawaragi @bonten @zvnphoria @antagluv @swaggybaji2 @chifiru @himeno-exe @tokyo-fukushu

Artem Wing and Artem Wingwoman

don't you realize our bodies could fall apart any second?

141 x male!reader

⚠︎ REPOST FROM PREVIOUS BLOG ⚠︎

warnings: gore, cod typical violence, foul language, kinda angst-y, could be read as either romantic or platonic, actually scratch that very angsty, death, alot of contemplating death, honestly mostly price centered lolz, its also like basically the convoy chase scene so yeah

notes: ⚠︎ this was a request from my previous account!! so uh 🪷 if u see this then here :3 ⚠︎ tsym for requesting !! this was crazy fun to write and i was really excited to work on it!! i had to fudge around some details for it to make a little more sense logistically speaking -- also sorry for taking a long ass while to get it done, but i hope you like regardless :)

(and yeah 🪷 is fine lol)

The horizon of the young night, painted in soft, deep blues, and splattered with stars like the flick of a paint brush, almost completely takes you out of your head. You don't often get the chance to enjoy the beauty around you, and even as you do in this moment, there's shouting and gunfire ringing in the background. Even the heavy pitter patter of rain can't deafen. It was ironic in a way--  you could probably find a cliche metaphor in there somewhere.

The huff of the helicopters rapid blades muffle what you can hear, even with your headset securely cuffed around your ears. The relentless wind beats against your skin, grabbing and pulling at your hair ferociously.

Even after all this time, these missions never fail to get your nerves up.

You feel your heart pound against your chest as Captain Price, in the seat besides the pilot, continues to bark out orders and directions. Pursing your lips, you bring your guns scope back to your eye, grip so tight you might've thought you've left your fingerprints indented into the plastic. You're squatted down on the helicopters floor, leaned against the wall as you use it for cover. Your bullets fly from the open door, aimed for the hostile vehicles set on evading your team.

Sergeant Kyle Garrick, or rather Gaz, mirrors your position on the adjacent side of the door-- Soap and Ghost no doubt holding similar positions behind you.

It's almost looking like this whole thing might go your way.

"Gaz-- [L/N]!" Price calls out over coms. "Anti-Air teams locking onto us-- your side!"

Your aim almost instinctively finds them-- large red lasers all seeming to be pointing directly at you. You squeeze your finger against the trigger, a cold sweat washing over you as you realize your bullets are doing nothing to their body armor. You felt the rhythmic jolt of your gun in your arms-- realizing you were swiftly running out of time, you called by to price, finger never leaving the trigger. "Captain-- They're wearing armor, we can't---!"

"INCOMING!" The frantic shout from Gaz cuts you off, eyes widening as you attempt to shield yourself from the missile blazing towards you. 

Your breath hitches as the heli begins to shake and spin-- you move from the door, pressing your back against the wall, madly grabbing onto whatever you can.

The pilots voice sounds in your ear, her voice strong, yet clearly frenzied. "We're going down, Y'all-- I need to execute an emergency lan-" Another large boom cuts her off, sending the heli plummeting to the ground, violent jerks being an attempt from the pilot to keep you from being obliterated the moment you'd make impact with the ground.

You try to maneuver to a more secure position as the heli grows unstable, but feel as the ground slips from under you, your back crashing again the floor with a heavy thump, head bouncing roughly against it.

Smoke fills the air, and your lungs, as alarms blare from the helis systems. There's a frantic cacophony of shouts as you fumble for anything to hold onto, nails screeching against metal as you claw to keep yourself alive. You feel your body lose to gravity as you begin to slip out, your gun now long gone.

your body dangles outside the heli, as chaos ensues. Your breath is rapid as you're just almost able to lift yourself back into 'safety.' but the rain has made everything slick and unstable. Your grip, your clothes, the metal.

Another hit to the tail end sends the helicopter to the point of no return. Plummeting downwards at seemingly impossible speeds-- in just a few seconds the chopper dove nose first into the ground, the screeching of metal aching on before coming to a silent hault.

The wreckage is still-- silent for a moment.

A sore groan stumbles from Prices throat as he forces his eyes open, a dull pain spreading through his body. On instinct, his hand goes to reach for the pilot, still sitting besides him. He stops as his eyes reach her-- her eyes wide open, empty, a strange glassy eyed stare bore into him. Broken glass litters her deep completion, the hair that had escaped her once neat bun lay stuck to her forehead as sweat and blood coats her flesh.

His chest tightness as he looks past her, into the cabin. After a moment of deadly silence, as if he were scared to ask, he finds his voice. "Are you-" a cough cuts him off, he almost instinctively turns away as he continues to hack through his sentence. "Are you alright!?"

He's partially relieved when a slew of groans answers him. Turning back, ignoring the stare of the pilot, he tries for an exit from the windshield, having been shattered upon impact. As he climbs from the cockpit, he hopes his voice is still loud enough for his team to hear. "Gaz?"

His head snaps as a figure emerges from the wreckage, pushing heavy scraps of metal from its way, and stumbling out from what remained of cabins open door. "'m alright..." He groans out in a hushed whisper, blood coating his forehead. It seems Gaz is still trying to process what's happened.

"Soap?"

As if on cue, Soap follows in Gaz's steps, footing unstable as he attempts to climb out. A string of barely legible curses are spat from his mouth before finally answering with an "I'm fine." The mostly agitated sort of growl sounded like it'd hurt his throat.

Soap extends a hand into the wreckage, a skeleton clad glove reaching for it, gripping it with a grunt as Soap pulls him up.

"Ghost, you alright mate?"

"Not dead yet." Is all he responds, stumbling from the rubble. 

"[L/N]?"

Again, everything's still.

Rain pounds against his head, soaking his hair. He must've lost his hat somewhere in the wreckage.

"[L/N]!" He calls again, straining to listen for your reply. He hisses out a curse as he moves to the demolished, Ghosts voice stopping him mere seconds later.

"Price." He says it like a whisper, not even turning to look at his Captain. Its like he's frozen in panic.

Price turns, his gaze following ghosts a few feet from the crash. barely visible through the rain is a still body.

Your body.

Price doesn't register the fact that he's moving, his feet almost slipping against the mud, till he practically falls to his knees, the momentum of his movement pushing him into your body when he comes in close. His hands hover over your form, fearful his touch might shatter you.

You're on your side, limp as Price continues to mindlessly call your name, as if pleading with you to just hop up, pretending like the crash was just a scrape to your knee. "No, no, nonono- [Y/N]-!"

He rolls you onto your back eyes shooting to a large shard-like piece of metal stabbed into your side. Smaller pieces of shrapnel have torn into your clothes and buried themselves under your skin. His hope begins to falter just before you force out a breath, face twitching on discomfort as you shakily come to. You force your eyes open, meeting the fear-stricken frown of your captain.

Price lets out a breath of relief, putting on a smile to mask his panic. It doesn't work well.

You know something's wrong.

Scoffing at his almost fatherly attempt at comfort, you crack a smile, speaking through a sickly, dry throat. "Now be for real with me, old man; just how bad is it?" He's looking at you like you're a dog about to be put down.

He doesn't answer you.

Heavy boots bound towards you, snapping Price from his poorly concealed panic. His head snapps towards the rest of the team-- but he doesn't have to say a word. They're already doing what they have to.

You hear a certain sort of zip of fabric before you feel Ghosts unmistakeable warm hands pressed against you. You're covered in rain, dirt, and your own blood.

Price is still knelt by your head, trying to keep your attention on him-- trying to keep you talking, to keep you conscious. So it's that bad, huh?

"Kid, can you feel anything?"

You ponder the question, a strange happenstance that you don't know quite how to answer that question. "I feel..." You notice the gush of warmth flow out of your body, and a pulsing dullness. Nothing else. As you breath in to answer, you feel more blood gush from you. "Warm. It's kinda gross, actually." You went to laugh, but your chuckle is caught in your throat. You feel a strange sort of painful stabbing sensation in your legs-- like pins and needles amped up to a hundred. You don't say anything, just silently wince.

Price wordless stands, shouting into his walkie-talkie, as you look to Ghost. You don't dare look at the damage you've been dealt, just barely catching a glimpse of his scarf pressed against your skin, your red staining the once tan fabric.

You snap your eyes up, attempting to focus on the breath you're swiftly loosing. Your breathing grows shallow, despite your efforts to swallow back more air-- it's as if your lungs are simply refusing to work. Your chest aches as you fight for deeper breaths, as if your a fish fighting to survive above the water-- breathing a painful chore.

You try to move, to put a hand around your throat to sooth yourself, but your limbs all feel numb-- heavy, yet jelly-like all the same. It's as if some invisible force is holding you down.

your hearing begins to distort-- almost sounding like your head was plunged underwater, all voices and sounds fading beyond much of your understanding. You recognize Prices voice, shouting into his coms. His words echo three or four times, yet to you it's devoid of any substance or meaning.

Your vision blurs-- maybe it's the rain getting in your eyes, or maybe you're really just dying. You scowl at the cliche you're living through. At the very least, you now know all those books and movies held some truth to them.

he pain worsens as you try to speak to Ghost. "I swear to God, L.T, if I start rambling about seeing a bright light, just shoot me." Ghost doesn't find your attempt at humor very funny.

You're vision begins to go black, fading from the sides until only a fuzzy circle of your vision was left. For a moment you're struggling to figure out whether or not your eyes are closed.

Price continues to shout about medical evac, Gaz is at Ghosts sides, applying pressure to the multiple puncture wounds littering your abdomen as they try to work out a plan to move you to evac without potentially further harming you. Soap is at your side, his gloved hand protectively grabbing onto yours. You think he's talking to you, and you think you're answering, maybe offering him a joke or two to comfort his panic, but you can't be sure. This goes on for awhile, like you were stuck living the same minuet over and over again.

A ringing slowly floods your ears, and all at once your pain is eased. In the midst of such chaos around you, you find a quiet. A stillness. A sort of comforting peace washing over you.

The warmth of your blood is strangely curing. It reminds you of various memories from deep within your childhood-- lost instances of a tender embrace, being lulled to sleep in the arms of a loved one, dark and silent.

Death was an inevitable thought in your line of work. Honestly, the thought was probably the most consistent thing you had in your life. It was always pretty scary-- you didn't know when you'd die, how, what would come after-- frankly it scared you. But now, in the ease, there was a mysterious certainty in the cradle of death, you found yourself accepting the idea as if it were a gift you'd been waiting for.

"[Y/N]?" You've stopped answering Soap. Your instinct is to fight heft in your eyelids, but you're just so tired. As you begin to surrender to the peace, Soaps thick accent cuts through it. "No-- stay with me, [Y/N]!" He shifts his position, laying your head on his lap as his hands rest on your face, shaking your head to keep you awake.

His shout of protest gets Prices attention. Price approaches yet again and takes Soaps former place. He places a hand on your chest and shoulder, shaking you lightly. As he begins to speak, you roll your head towards him, barely making him out through the fuzz. "C'mon, stay with me, son." He sees that sort glassy glint in your eyes. "Don't close your eyes-- close your eyes and you're a goner. Jesus fuck--! Don't you fucking die on me-- that's an order!" His voice shakes despite himself.

You aren't afraid of death. You always thought you'd die slow and painful, but this was....Nice. There's no pain, no fear, nothing but numb. You struggle for a reason to not simply give into yourself-- maybe this was just your time. You're tired-- you're young, but so fucking tired. Why not let go? What are you holding on for?

Your head rolls to the other side. Ghost and Gaz's hands are coated in your blood, their clothes possibly forever stained with the memory of your life fleeting from under their palms. You can feel the warmth of Soaps lap from under your head, one hand lightly slapping your face, and the other combing back your hair with tender care. Weather its to sooth you, himself as a nervous tick, or to just keep your mud soaked hair from your face, it's still appreciated. Price has screamed his throat raw. You never thought you'd see the man falter, but you could feel his once strong hands seem to crumble again you as they gripped almost pathetically at your vest and shirt.

Suddenly you had your answer.

You draw a shallow breath.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Cap."

A LIFETIME IN REPEAT / kamisato ayato ( genshin impact ) ( WHAT WILL SURVIVE OF US IS LOVE ) a/n: reincarnation au. quote by philip larkin. title from eden - circles. for @yelans spring serenades event w/ the theme being rebirth. thank you for arranging this !!

i. under the cherry blossoms lies love eternal, wistful and tranquil in existence. under the cherry blossoms there is the blooming of flowers in spring reborn, the sun brilliant in her ways as she blesses the earth with warmth once more.

under the cherry blossoms is a promise of tomorrow in the way ayato holds you, bodies pressed closely together, his hands resting on your hips. you sway together, side to side, in temporary respite ; the quickening and slowing of time blurs -- and it doesn't make sense, but it does : the way you could find sanctuary in his arms forever, the way it’s over in the blink of an eye and you find yourselves missing each other all the more.

“relax, love.”

ayato whispers the words softly into your ear and laughs when you tense in response. your cheeks heat up, but you tell yourself it’s from the weather and leave it at that. you’ve never gotten used to his endearing terms and you’re sure he plays it to his advantage.

“i don’t slow dance-- and when were you so romantic, anyway?”

“i’ve always been a romantic at heart,” comes the matter-of-fact answer, though you sense underlying amusement in it, “now, relax. you can always lean on me.”

your lips part with the intention of a ( hopefully ) composed reply, but his smile is all too gentle, so the words fade into oblivion. instead, there is a feeling of happiness that dwells deep within the heart. you let out a sigh of defeat, pretend you didn’t hear him chuckle, wrap your arms around his neck, and lean your head against his chest.

“the flowers are beautiful this season.” you half-heartedly murmur, face still ablaze as you seek distraction elsewhere. ayato knows this, kisses you on the head in quiet comfort. you feel him smile against your skin and you do not think you will ever get tired of the sensation.

“yes, they are.” he says, and somewhere in the tidal waves of the soul, there is a bittersweetness that invokes itself in the thought of a future known. “they are beautiful.”

( under the cherry blossoms is serenity and devotion and everything birthed from love. under the cherry blossoms there are lovers who will grow old and gray together, hand in hand.

under the cherry blossoms, in yet another spring, will lie love eternal after days long passed. in the roots of tomorrow, it will be found again. always again. )

ii. the colors blur, window to window, view by view. the subway hums, floods itself with life as passengers travel to and from, and here you are, gaze distant, vacant. waiting. you live this life now and it’s all you know. it feels weird, empty-- but you think that’s kinda how it goes nowadays : learn what it means to be an adult, or rather, function as one, have a crisis, think you’re taking all the wrong twists & turns, and learn to fake it like everyone else.

it is exhausting. you are exhausted.

you sigh, discontentment transparent on your visage. the subway buzzes again, but all the sounds twist into background noise, automatically blocked out from your senses. you fail to notice the stranger that appears before you until he gets a little too close for comfort-- and that’s when you’re suddenly all too aware of how crowded it is. you try to step back, take maybe half a step, really, and that hardly does much, but he senses your discomfort and offers a wry, apologetic smile.

you know that smile, is your immediate thought, but you don’t get to reflect on it too much before someone shoves him into you. he wraps an arm around you, staggers for a moment before finding stability, and here you are, one hand on his shoulder and the other desperately hanging onto the overhead handle.

“i deeply apologize.” are the first words you hear, and there is something about his voice that soothes the anxiety that brews in your chest. “are you hurt?”

your breath hitches in your throat. your eyes sting suddenly and your vision goes unclear, and that stupid, stupid, lump in your throat is too noticeable and bothersome. this is ridiculous and dramatic, you joke to yourself, and you want to find rationale, reason-- something -- to explain this whirlwind of emotions that sweeps you off your feet.

you nod because that’s all you really can do; you want to say sorry when you see concern adorn his features, but he smiles, he smiles and you’ve seen it before, somehow, and you think you are crying now.

“‘m okay.” you whisper. “i’m okay. thank you.”

“you’re welcome.”

the subway hums again. longing fills your heart. you want to know why.

the stranger clears his throat, lets go of you, and you stand before each other in silence.

“my name is ayato.” he tells you. he offers you a handkerchief. “i believe we’ve met before.”

tears trail down your face. it is three in the afternoon. you are on the subway with a stranger. you do not remember something you should.

“i don’t remember you.”

ayato’s smile almost falters, but he is used to masking such emotions, so he maintains it ever so perfectly, hoping that you will not feel guilt for something that is not in your control.

( you don’t remember him. that’s okay, he thinks. he will wait for you until the end of time. it’s okay, even if it hurts. )

iii. with an aching heart made of uncertainty, you fall asleep to peaceful dreams that night. it takes place in a regal estate, splendid and grand in its decor. you wonder how you find yourself in such a setting. it’s busy-- chaotic and calm at the same time, moving constantly at a steady pace as voices and faces flood the halls. you recognize these voices, hear yourself among them.

the faces are blurred. all of them.

this is where you belong. these are days you’ve experienced before ; nostalgia lines itself in the hollows of your ribs, wraps its knowing around your lungs. you have lived and breathed this life.

you can’t remember.

you wake up. the ache grows deeper, burrows itself in fragile heartstrings. you fall back asleep, vision engulfed in pink hues of cherry blossoms and ayato’s name lingering on your tongue.

iv. you don’t remember anything, not really. you know you dreamt of something strange and significant and it bothers you, horribly so-- but these things will come in time, you suppose. so you move on with your day, hope you can find solace in falling back to your daily routine.

you enter the cafe, inhaling deeply when the aroma of coffee overloads your senses. there’s comfort to be found in the little things, you remind yourself, ordering your regular drink. it’s not long before you’ve settled into the corner of the cafe, set up your laptop and stationary. your focus goes into your work for an hour or two-- maybe longer-- until you see a familiar face before you again.

“what a coincidence.” ayato muses, curiosity in purple eyes. “i did not expect to see you here.”

you stare at each other in silence for a moment-- you, more so out of shock, ayato, truthfully, in amusement at such a reaction to his presence.

“you must have missed me, finding me already.” comes your response, a forced lightheartedness in your voice meant to disperse the tension in your body.

“i did, in fact. may i sit with you?”

you almost want to think he’s joking with you, but the way he looks at you is too tender, too knowing, and somehow, it breaks your heart.

( ayato spends hours with you at that cafe. it feels like home, feels right. feels like something is missing and it shouldn’t be. )

v. you don’t ask ayato what he meant back then, where he recognized you or how he recognized you. you didn’t ask when you first met on the subway, didn’t ask at the coffee shop, didn’t ask during any single encounter you’ve had in these past few months.

you are frightened of the unknown, and perhaps you are a coward for that.

( because you want to know, but there’s something in the nagging feeling you carry that makes you want to run away from all of this. but you don’t because you know you shouldn’t. because in all the time you have spent with him since that fated meeting, maybe there is a place in your heart for him that grows larger and larger and maybe that scares you. )

you walk along the quiet streets, side by side with ayato. the storm has long passed, puddles of water reflecting gloomy skies. it is nearing the end of fall but the weather does not let up, always unpredictable in its path.

“i enjoy the rain when i am aware of its incoming presence.” ayato mumbles, gaze cast upwards at the clouds.

“you don’t like getting caught up in it and getting your beautiful hair ruined?”

“i don’t.” he laughs at your teasing tone. “you find my hair beautiful?”

“i do.”

“how generous of you.” he hums, and there’s an extra little skip in his step now. “i find you beautiful, as well.”

your face gets hot. how embarrassing.

“so romantic.” you mumble, clearing your throat. you can’t help but feel familiarity in such exchanges. “what’s your favorite season, anyway?”

ayato’s gait comes to a standstill. you pause, watch as a sorrowful and hopeful smile rests on the curve of his lips. he glances up at the sky once more before he looks at you, his hand brushing against the back of yours.

“i have always been fond of spring.”

“why’s that?”

you don’t move your hand away. he notices this, remains cautious, gentle, and laces his fingers with yours. it’s warm, comforting.

“it reminds me of someone i love.”

you freeze, see the way ayato looks at you-- like there’s something more, like he has known you in a life past-- and you want to speak, but nothing can register or come to mind.

the rain pours again, but neither of you move.

“you told me that we’ve met before.” your voice quivers. “so why don’t i remember you? i know you. i dreamt about you once, i think. i don’t know. why don’t i know? where have we met? what do you know?”

panic arises with each word spoken. you’re crying again, just like you did the first time you met. you feel like an idiot, your chest tightening with anxiety. ayato squeezes your hand. it would be so easy to tell you everything, to bring the memories back all at once. but such things take time, he kindly reminds himself, so he will wait until it all comes back.

“you’re not going to tell me.” you whisper. he shakes his head, places an umbrella over your heads. “then tell me this: the person you love-- is it me? and did i love you once, before?”

ayato smiles, just as he always does, and the tears run rampant.

( you both know the answer already. you know this, don’t you? )

vi. you dream again that night. it’s a different dream, but almost the same-- the hustle and bustle surrounds you, overwhelms you. you’re not entirely familiar with this environment yet. you only know some of the voices-- a bright, cheerful one that always seems to bring a smile to your face. a soothing one that always brings reassurance. you hear a bark and playful laughter, and in your heart there is relief.

you’ve done this before.

“daydreaming again?”

you recognize that voice. you are quick to turn on your heel, though reluctance fills the corners of your mind. you are afraid the faces will be hidden again, obscure just like last time, but they are not.

ayato stands before you, almost entirely the same with exception of attire. maybe you are daydreaming-- this is a dream, after all, and the boundaries between what is real and what is not are too chaotic to distinguish. but that doesn’t stop you from hoping, from thinking this could be what you were trying to remember after all. in the realization of such, you cry again. you cry again and again because you hope that this is it, that it’s not just a dream, that you’ve finally come to understand ayato’s words and what that emptiness meant.

“what is it? what’s wrong?” ayato asks, dabbing the tears away with a handkerchief. you know that one, recall it from the subway.

“nothing’s wrong.” you laugh in disbelief, shake your head as his thumb grazes over your cheek. “i’m okay. we’re okay.”

( you wake up the next morning. you remember it all. )

vii. it is spring now. you have not seen him in a long while-- perhaps out of avoidance or a clash in schedules, neither of you are sure. you weren’t ready to tell him once you awoke from that dream, more so because you couldn’t comprehend it all-- thoma, ayaka, ayato--

you spent a lifetime with him before. you were married to him and you loved him. you danced under the cherry blossoms on the first day of spring and you told him you didn’t slow dance, that you weren’t good at it, but he didn’t care, as long as he could hold you close.

you sit on the park bench with him now, quiet. children play in the distance, their laughter filling the silence that rests heavily in the air. your hands wring nervously in your lap, words unspoken lodged in your throat. you want to tell him, but you don’t know how. you want to tell him that you know, and you’re almost sure he knows this, too.

“have you been well? it’s been awhile.”

he starts off slowly, treads carefully on thin ice.

“i’ve been...thinking. i dreamt about you again.”

“oh?”

“i cried a lot in the dream.”

“you do that often in reality, too.”

you laugh for the first time that day, feeling your body relax against the bench. your hand rests at your side now, brushes against ayato’s. wanting. waiting. hoping.

the cherry blossoms are in bloom now, the wind casting the petals along the sky. they fall gently, gracefully, and it reminds you both of that day.

they’re beautiful, aren’t they?” ayato asks, taking note of the closed distance between you two. he swallows hard, curious as to why he hesitates now- because maybe you truly do remember now, and maybe this is the moment he’s been waiting for all this time-- the reunion of two lovers. his hand finds yours. you do not pull away.

“they always have been.” you smile faintly, intertwining your fingers. you ignore the way your voice trembles and you hope he does, too. you inhale deeply, close your eyes. “can i lean on you, ayato?”

you know. you have to, he thinks, and he cannot help the surprise that appears in purple hues. you look at him, countenance riddled with apprehension, and there’s that familiar curl of the lips you have seen many times before. he nods in confirmation, so you rest your head on his shoulder.

pink petals fall onto your laps-- delicate, loved, and seen.

“i remember you.” you whisper. the wind almost drowns out the words, but his grip on your hand tightens. “i remember our life back then-- being married, spending time in the garden when it was the beginning of spring. i-- i took so long ayato. i took so long to remember you.”

in your voice there is regret, but in his eyes there is understanding. you want to apologize, but you know he would tell you there is no need for such things.

“i knew you would, in time. i would have waited for you, nonetheless.”

ah. you’re going to start crying again. you laugh when he pulls out that handkerchief again, but when the tears come, he kisses them away ever so gently before murmuring words of comfort. his arms wrap around you, hold reassuring and filled with ardor.

“i missed you.” you whisper against his lips, and how lovely it is to feel him smile against them once more. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.” he tells you, once, twice, a million times-- as many as he needs to until it is known. “i will love and find you in every lifetime, my love.”

( under the cherry blossoms is rebirth and reinvigoration of life. under the cherry blossoms, there is love lost and love found.

under the cherry blossoms, there is you and the one you love, reunited at last. )

shounen ai mangas that should be a part of your reading list if you enjoy reading healthy and plot driven romances- part 1.

I've been reading bl for years now, the reason why i indulged myself into reading this particular genre was simply because shoujo as a genre is too repetitive, most tropes are overused and it's honestly really hard to find good stories once you've finished the easily accessible popular franchises.

boys love is divided into two sub genres, yaoi and shounen ai, I personally do not enjoy reading smut, it's a different story if intimacy plays an important point for the character development of the characters in the story, but i'am not a huge fan of the porn being used as the plot device for the entire manga and hence i won't be including yaoi mangas in this list.

1. Sayonara, Heron.

Sayonara, Heron is one of those mangas that remain ambiguous and non-linear for the majority of the time but gradually intensify itselves once the ending is near without losing it's delicacy, i won't be talking about the plot since i want you to experience this 7 chapter long manga the way i did, without knowing anything about it, but it's simply about family and relationships, the art style is so pretty, the rooftop, the cigarettes, the kisses, everything. I do not see enough people talking about it and maybe you should help me change that.

2. We're still in the spring of life.

Academics, Aerospace and Adorability, everything about this manga is so heart warming, the hesitation in the beginning of a friendship which ends with a comfortable yet passionate relationship, the naps, the math equations and the confessions, this manga is simply about two boys growing together by simultaneously relying on each other. Also the rocket metaphors have my heart, read it to find them out.

3. Our dining table.

I've always been a huge fan of child care as a separate genre on it's own, but this manga is one of the only romance mangas where the child care part of it actually plays a huge role for the development of the characters, it honestly isn't forced like some omegaverse stories rather it's comforting and actually heart warming to read, the food being used as a love language, the friendships and the bonding amidst the family and the main character is beautiful, give it a go if you want to experience legit therapy lol.

4. Blue sky complex.

Blue sky complex is one of the few shounen ai mangas which seems authentic and raw because of the awkwardness of the characters, the relationship between the characters is easily connectable in the sense that you get the insight of how their head actually works and makes those decisions, it explores gay relationships in a very interesting way, and honestly is very close to my heart because well it's the GLASSES GUY X GOOF BALL trope yet again.

5. Yuki no shita no qualia.

Now, this manga vaguely reminds me of sayonara, heron but honestly is a lot more strong with what it wants to explore, it's one of those mangas that will accidentally make you cry because of the beauty of it's characters and the development of their relationship.

"i think you make me kinder," is better than any "i love you".

Red Carnations

Pairing: Childe x GN! Reader

Warnings: it’s just angst

A/N: i’m exhausted but i really wanted to write this. slightly based off Olivia Rodrigo’s song Driver’s License

Word Count: 3,127

Another letter, another batch of lies. The crisp pale paper sat on the table, delicate letters that spelled your name staring up at you. The red wax stamped with his insignia burned into your mind, filling every thought in your head, despite trying to go on with your day. Was it really worth it to open the parchment? Every letter that arrived on the doorstep, with the same handwriting scribbled onto it felt like another push out of his life. Paragraphs describing the beautiful blonde outlander traveller that had caught his heart made your chest hurt with every word that he wrote. How long had it been since you had last seen the young ginger Harbinger whose lopsided smile made your heart skip a beat. Though he had been sent away on a mission to Liyue, you stayed behind to manage your parent’s business in Snezhnaya. Everything could only go downhill from there. You took the seat in the back as you watched letters arrive at your doorstep with pages of Childe’s handwriting describing the new nation he was exploring and the people who he met. But in every letter, he never failed to mention the golden eyed beauty who was Lumine. In the darkest parts of your heart, you wished that Childe would stop sending you letters, that he would just forget about the best friend who remained smitten by him. Rapid knocks on your door interrupted you from your thoughts. A chorus of giggles erupted from behind your door and you bit back a sigh, knowing exactly who was standing out in the cold.

“Did big brother send you a letter too?!” Teucer greeted you the moment your door cracked open, his bright blue eyes looking up at you with excitement and curiosity swimming inside of them. Tonia apologized for the lack of courtesy from her brother, but you could tell that she too, wanted to know if you received anything. A part of you wanted to lie to the two young children, and tell them that Childe didn’t send you anything. But there was no way to deny the two pairs of ocean eyes that twinkled with curiosity. You could tell Tonia was hiding something behind her back yet you didn’t pry, instead, forcing a smile to your face and admitting that their elder brother had sent you a letter.

“Have you read it yet?” Tonia giggled and pulled out the object behind her back. It was another letter, but addressed to her instead. You opened your mouth to reply, but the young ginger haired girl was already speaking rapidly, explaining all that her brother had written in his latest letter. You watched in silence as Teucer stood up on his tiptoes to peak over at the words his sister was reading off and your breath caught in your throat. Teucer was almost exactly like Childe, in his actions and looks.

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