Hiiii!!! May I Request Fragrant Mashed Potatoes + Sweet Madame + Mint Jelly And Pop’s Teas + Dango

childhood best friends to lovers with xiao

ingredients: you have been friends with xiao almost your whole life... but it's the little things that make you realize there's something more.

calories: xiao + gender neutral reader

serving size: modern/highschool au・fluff・hurt/comfort・headcanons・too lazy to do word count rn

how did you guys meet in the first place? it was quite simple, really. it was when you guys were both first graders and the both of your parents were friends! all in all, they brought you over to his place and somehow xiao ended up accidentally throwing a cupcake at your face.

you thought he hated you until he popped up on your doorstep the next day, a single cupcake in his hand. to this day you think it's a pretty funny story and tease xiao for it (he always flicks your forehead and says he wouldn't mind throwing a cupcake at you again)

growing up, everyone usually knew xiao as the quiet boy in class and didn't pay attention to him. you knew him as your best friend with the great spotify playlists and the king of having no sleep. and now you were both in the middle of high school, he still barely got any sleep despite your protests.

it was surprising on how xiao was the one waking you up each day for school, climbing the tree beside your house and knocking loudly on your window. you decided to just leave it unlocked most nights (although once, he woke you up by pouring water on you and you arrived to school with a towel on your head)

days would go by normally. hanging out with xiao, studying with xiao, even having a sleepover with xiao! so when did your heart start to flutter at the sight of him?

was it when he climbed through your window, not in the morning but in the middle of the night? it was when he nudged you awake, telling you about a nightmare he had and apologizing that he woke you up. but you both ended up playing games until sunrise, eventually passing out on the bed with your head on xiao's lap.

or was it when he suddenly stopped walking, delaying the time you would reach some random destination? xiao turned around without a word, bending down and tying your shoelaces for you because it had gotten untied. you definitely remembered him ruffling your hair, telling you to check before you leave the house next time.

or maybe it was when he won that volleyball game! his whole team was cheering but he only smiled when he met you in the school parking lot, a bright expression on your face and you insisting that it was time to celebrate.

but what about that time you were both randomly hanging out at a park playground? a shady guy was around the area and you definitely noticed xiao's hand reaching for yours, pulling you close and convincing you that the other side of the park was much more interesting.

you appreciated xiao. you cared about xiao. you wanted him to be happy. and of course you loved him! you didn't realize that you loved him in a romantic way until your heart dropped at a statement xiao said.

"high school love is a waste of time," xiao scowled, getting annoyed at the amount of people relentlessly pinning for him and suddenly calling him "the hottest in the grade." why were they wasting his time? and being so frustrating?

your heart crushed as you tried to calm him down, telling him to ignore them and that he was right.

was he?

so you kept your feelings to yourself. even when summer came around and it was a hot day, refusing xiao's offer to have his cold drink. you knew he already took a sip and didn't want to seem annoying but he seemed tired of your complaining, eventually shoving (gently!) the straw in your mouth.

the only thing you could think about was that you just shared an indirect kiss with xiao.

despite wanting to confess already, you knew xiao wouldn't waste time on such things and you didn't want to be unfair towards him. even as some girl kept insisting for xiao's number and you instinctively told her that you were his partner, shooing her off and getting a thank you from xiao.

if only it was real.

but it felt real. it felt incredibly real that one day you cried in the rain, the day being extremely overwhelming and you hating it. you let yourself believe that it was real as xiao dropped the umbrella he had in his hand, choosing to hold you in his arms instead and deal with a cold later. you still remember him rocking you back and forth, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and ignoring anyone who walked by.

and then the final straw happened.

this time, you were the one who crawled through his window late at night. the one who received the 3 AM text saying "i got another one." the one who held xiao in their arms as he broke down in front of you the first time, just so tired of his stupid nightmares that almost felt like reality.

you were upset, just as xiao was when he saw you break down before. most importantly, you felt like the both of you didn't deserve this. xiao didn't deserve getting such horrid nightmares while you didn't deserve him. was it even right for you to be his friend in the first place? were you even worth it? you felt like such a waste of time.

it was ironic of you telling xiao to ignore the voices in his head when you listened to yours. and he knew.

so he cradled your face in his hands, even as tears rolled down his face and made you cry too. you finally listened, not speaking a single word as xiao placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and pulled you closer.

"i love you. so so, much. don't ever forget that."

and you didn't. to this day as you peppered kisses all over xiao's face and he slow danced with you in his room. although you could hardly believe that he confessed first and he liked you as well, you were thankful.

here's to many more days with your beloved. cherish them, all the way to the end.

i think you can tell the message is to appreciate people when you can (unless they suck). ilysm and you are worth it, stay strong and hold on!! idc how cringe i sound right now you deserve beautiful, happy things.

ANYWAYS

tags: @noirkkat, @tiny-aroace, @ben6ett, @abyssheart, @starglitterz, @blisschi, @heavensbeloved, @mystic-helena, @kachuuha, @xmellows, @rim0na, @velionqs, @glazelilyy, @yanbub, @urujiako, @adeptusjade, @zaultar @seerie, @blossomiich, @xiaozuha

bold: i can’t tag you for some reason!

i just KNOW i'm gonna regret posting this tomorrow morning but i need something to post so i hope you enjoyed!!

Kamisato Ayato x Reader

Notes: just a small something since he came home. Gender-neutral terms, blood & injury mention, protective boyf Ayato✨

Cornered, you considered your options. Run and risk the two men chasing you? Fight back and risk a black eye at the least, all while your lover’s jacket turned dirty with your blood?

You really had no way out, pressing yourself impossibly closer into the alleyway as though it were possible for the wall to swallow you and transport you elsewhere. To think all this happened over a misunderstanding.

“You scum, wearing the Commissioner’s coat like that.”

You opened your mouth to protest, a hoarse and cracked sound pleading for a break. “No, I - “

The man puffed out his cheeks, an ugly red colour popping through his face in profound anger. “Unless you’re some whore who ran off indecently with the Commisioner, threatening to tear down his reputation!”

The man accompanying him scoffed, adding in another sentence before you could get a word in. “So which is it, are you a filthy thief or have you seduced our honourable Yashiro Commisioner?”

You sigh. The men were harassing you over borrowing Ayato’s coat to keep you warm from the cooling winds. You only wanted to run your errands around Hanamizaka in peace, not be cornered and threatened for something clearly trivial.

“Ah, is there a problem here?”

Thank Narukami. Your shoulders immediately relaxed upon hearing the familiar cadence of your boyfriend as he directed the men’s attention to him.

“They think I stole your coat!” You called over the men, seeing the silent confusion written on Ayato’s face.

The two men’s eyes widened comically as they looked at one another and shook their heads. “Commissioner! We were simply looking out for you! We aren’t sure what they were doing parading around in your - “

Ayato held a hand in the air to stop them from continuing. Clearly, these scoundrels held no respect or foresight whatsoever.

“It appears to me that you’ve unnecessarily cornered my partner,” Ayato motioned to your form huddled against the wall, still shaken but less scared than before, “surely the two of you can see that I am not in my coat now, yes? I fail to see why any of this is worth scaring them.”

“Lord Kamisato, we - “

“A clear oversight on my part. It seems that I haven’t done my duty as well as I would have liked.”

Ayato walks past the two men, stance and posture upright, determined, graceful. He approached you and carefully leans to capture your chin between his fingers, tilting it ever so slightly to meld his lips lovingly against your own.

Pulling back slowly and softly, a satisfied hum reverberating upon seeing your shocked and confused expression and sensing the two men still present behind him, Ayato gives them a pointed look.

“My duty is to protect those closest to me. If either of you approach them again, it will be your last.”

“You can’t possibly threaten us, that wouldn’t be a good look for you, Commissioner - “

“Ah,” Ayato grinned, “the two of you look familiar. I believe… yes. You two have committed numerous acts against the Tri-Commission in the past through petty games - namely tax evasion. I protect Inazuma and therefore, you two have disrespected the Raiden Shogun by neglecting your citizen’s duty. You understand the consequences of directly harming a Tri-Commission member,” he motions to you, as you were his and thus affiliated with the Yashiro Commision, “Perhaps that is enough cause to, eloquently put, stay quiet?”

That was enough to send the two into a flurry of apologies, profusely bowing before they ran out of the alleyway with their tails beneath their legs.

Ayato gave a soft smile, turning back to you and trapping you between the wall and him with his arm next to your head.

“Now, where were we?”

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."

get to know me, pick some numbers.

1. selfie 2. what would you name your future kids? 3. do you miss anyone? 4. what are you looking forward to? 5. is there anyone who can always make you smile? 6. is it hard for you to get over someone? 7. what was your life like last year? 8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed? 9. who did you last see in person? 10. are you good at hiding your feelings? 11. are you listening to music right now? 12. what is something you want right now? 13. how do you feel right now? 14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you? 15. personality description 16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t? 17. opinion on insecurities. 18. do you miss how things were a year ago? 19. have you ever been to New York? 20. what is your favourite song at the moment? 21. age and birthday? 22. description of crush. 23. fear(s) 24. height 25. role model 26. idol(s) 27. things i hate 28. i’ll love you if… 29. favourite film(s) 30. favourite tv show(s) 31. 3 random facts 32. are your friends mainly girls or guys? 33. something you want to learn 34. most embarrassing moment 35. favourite subject 36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill? 37. favourite actor/actress 38. favourite comedian(s) 39. favourite sport(s) 40. favourite memory 41. relationship status 42. favourite book(s) 43. favourite song ever 44. age you get mistaken for 45. how you found out about your idol 46. what my last text message says 47. turn ons 48. turn offs 49. where i want to be right now 50. favourite picture of your idol 51. starsign 52. something i’m talented at 53. 5 things that make me happy 54. something thats worrying me at the moment 55. tumblr friends 56. favourite food(s) 57. favourite animal(s) 58. description of my best friend 59. why i joined tumblr 60. ask me anything you want

No cz i rlly need to ramble my guts out to any1, but who?? 🙁

GRAPES ARE SO GOOD BRO GULP GULP GULP

Ew grapes, but grapes juice tho 😋

Ong helo again, i want to req reverse streamer au w childe when the reader acc dies at the golden house where the traveller aka childe fight them amdjjsjsjs, i kinda wanna see how his reaction is. (Lets just say the liyue harbor osial attack was done by another hsrbinger)

Just this and if yoi dont write for angst or you dont wanna write this feel free to delete thsi req. (I got the request idea when j was reading your latest work, it was really good 🤸‍♂️)

Yeah give me that angst baybee im a sucker for sadness

I may be a bit bad at writing angst tho, its not my strongest in writing

Also i know you cant see in game bruises/scratches but lets just pretend they exist even out of cutscene

Lets pretend Y/n's little sibling in game is also named Teucer

-ˋˏ✄— Fallen Harbinger

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ Tartaglia x Reader [ Reversed + Streamer AU ! ]

Pronouns: they/them

"Farewell, Fallen Harbinger."

CW: Angst! Death! Mentions of blood!

.navigation. // .genshin impact masterlist.

'Go to the Golden House,' the quest read.

It had just been another regular day for Childe. Wake up, do his morning chores, then do his regular, messily scheduled streaming.

And, as per usual, he had been streaming Genshin Impact, a well known game in the streaming community.

"The Golden House? Uh, okay then..."

He stole a glance at his chat, who were telling each other to shut up, while some only asked what would happen in confusion. Spoilers were probably deleted by his mods.

"Chat, you're scaring me, chat. What the hell is going to happen? No, no, don't tell me, I don't think I want to know yet."

Something in his head screamd at him, as a cutscene played. His chosen traveller looked around the Golden House before stepping closer to the Exurvia of the former Geo Archon.

And then, in stepped familiar h/c hair, their e/c eyes devoid of light despite the golden mora shining within the Golden House.

"Hey! The lil skrunkly!" He whispered, low enough to not desturb the cutscene.

They conversed for a bit, before the cutscene ended and a battle began.

"Surreder is a valid option, I promise I'll be gentle."

Childe swallowed his saliva, laughing quietly to himself.

"Oh I am going to have fun. Maybe."

─𖠄࿐

The fight ended, and Childe was shaking in his seat. He had barely finished phase 3, getting disracted many times.

Another cutscene played, revealing a tired, worn out traveller. But Y/n was no better, not even on his level.

Standing across the traveller, now out of their Foul Legacy form, was same old Y/n, shaking in their place as scratches and bruises littered their skin.

"Hah, you've bested me. How... intriguing. You truely are...as strong as they say."

Childe, having a chill run up his spine, stared intelty at his screen, deathly quiet.

"La Signora has even praised you for your strength, even if she had not faught you herself, yet. Hah, to get a Harbinger's attention and praise... You sure are a special one, huh?"

─𖠄࿐

Having none of their energy remaining, Y/n collapsed to the floor, on their knees. They could see the traveller hesitate to approach them, but they spoke before he could move.

"Well? What are you waiting for? I may have overused Foul Legacy, and it wont be too long."

They spared a glance at the traveller, and even in their weakest moment, a competetive and mischievous glint shone in their once dull eyes.

"Go on. Aren't you going to kill me?"

The traveller's breath hitched, before they chuckled once again.

"Haha, only joking... Unless you're up to it, of course. I'm not quite a fan of dying to Foul Legacy, but after a fight with the oh so great traveller? It was a fight worth dying for, I guess."

Coughing, blood trickled down their chin, and they wiped it off with the back of their hand.

"May I be able to hope to see you again? To have another battle? Perhaps in the far future, perhaps never again at all..."

Taking a step forward, the traveller ceased his motion as the Harbinger raised a hand.

"No need. Whatever healing you might try to do would not work. Foul Legacy takes my energy, decreasing my life span. Perhaps I wasn't meant to live long, perhaps my only purpose was to serve the Tsaritsa."

A chuckle, breathy and tired and solemn and...happy.

Happy to have someone to pass one last message for them.

"Before you leave," they spoke. "You'll probably be able to find one or two of the Harbingers here. One of them would be summoning a god banished to the depths below. You cannot stop them. Or maybe you can. But, before you leave."

They looked up, and despite the scratches and blood on their face, their half lidded eyes shined a thousand times brighter than all the mora in the Golden House.

"My siblings... My mother, my father... Everyone..."

They smiled, brighter than their eyes. It was soft and kind and solemn and genuine and sad.

A million words spoke through that smile. A million messages, a million apologies, a million grateful thank yous. Directed to their family, their parents, their siblings.

A million farewells. Directed to everyone.

Directed to the traveller. To Childe.

"Give them one last goodbye for me, will you? A hug, for everyone. A kiss on the cheek, for mum and dad."

A smile, solemn and bright. But never remorseful, never faux.

"Tell Teucer I'm sorry."

Falling to their side, they collapsed on the ground with a thud, and the Golden House was deathly quiet.

─𖠄࿐

Childe stared at the screen. Eyes wide, mouth agape. If you looked close enough, you could see his shaking form as the cutscene ended.

Another quest popped up.

'Bid Y/n L/n a final goodbye.'

And he wailed in his seat.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he made it seem more dramatic to make people assume he wasn't really badly affected by their death.

"I— what— NO! My skrunkly! My little meow meow!"

He moved his character to stand in front of Y/n, an interact button popping up.

'Bid your farewells.'

He did so, seeing his character change to the traveller, who kneeled down beside Y/n. Paimon floated down to the ground, placing a hand on their head.

"...We promise you, Y/n. Your family will be alright."

Taking a flower, a Cecilia from Mondstadt, the traveller gingerly placed it atop their head.

"...We'll be going now, Y/n." He said, and stood up.

Childe had been quiet the whole time, and he could see his chat going wild on the corner of his eyes, all screaming 'NO' or 'o7' or anything alike.

"What the fuck!?" He exclaimed, not touching the game. Rolling his chair backwards a bit, he turned his head to chat, hands intertwined in front of his face, covering his mouth.

He wiped his teary eyes and wet cheeks, trying to find his voice.

"That was too early! I thought I could ignore the death flags until further!!" He exclaimed, staring directly at his face cam. Running a hand through his hair, he dramatically slouched on his chair, groaning loudly.

"Nooo! I would have protected them!"

Suddenly springing up from his seat, he wailed even louder.

"THEIR FAMILY!! THEY'RE GOING TO BE FUCKING DEVASTATED! And— and— their siblings! TEUCER!" He exclaimed.

"I'm sueing Mihoyo Hoyoverse what the fuck."

─𖠄࿐

@Tartaglia Tweeted!

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT WHY I— NOOOO

@ScaryMouche Tweeted!

@Tartaglia do u know how loud u are wailing up there??

@Tartaglia Tweeted!

THEY KILLED THEM SCARA THEY KILLED Y/N

@ScaryMouche Tweeted!

WE KNOW YOUVE BEEN FUKIN CRYING ABOUT IT FOR THE PAST HOUR

@ScaryMouche Tweeted!

Honestly if u didnt pay most of the rent Dottore probably would have kicked u out before you lasted an hour in this house

@Tartaglia Tweeted!

Guys who wants to come with me lets make a personal shrine for Y/n in our backyard

@IlDottore Tweeted!

@Tartaglia Do that and I will burn you and the shrine.

—PATCHWRK !

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✿ happy bday mammon

admin fluffy ( ◞･౪･)

A STRENGTH OF A THOUSAND.

— manjiro sano x reader

— themes. angst, implied character death

— tw. su*cide

— inspired by that one heartbreaking scene from a silent voice movie.

in hindsight, you should have seen this coming. warning bells blaring in your ears, but for some reason, you weren't able to hear it. only now have you trully seen the dead, cold look in his eyes that continuously begs for some sort of relief, and his chapped lips that bleeds everytime he gnaws at it to keep his expression as neutral as possible; to keep everything bottled up because he believes he does not deserve to be relieved of the crushing weight that burdened his shoulders.

you should have seen this coming—his endpoint. the day he finally snaps and he's ready to admit just how tired he was of living. his face, void of any emotions just like the dead look in his eyes, but the shakiness of his hands betrayed his thoughts.

and then you realized mikey didn't want to die, he just thinks he has to for the sake of the future takemitchi wants. a future where everyone is alive and happy. you—where were you when all of this happening to him? sleeping soundly while his monstrous thoughts ate his mind up and kept him awake at night? laughing together with your friends while he stays in this rundown building, utterly alone with no one but himself to comfort.

where were you when mikey needed the help the most?

"mikey, come down from there—" you can hear your voice tremble as you took a careful step forward. mikey's back faced you, the bonten insignia on his neck glaring harshly down on you; like it was mocking you for being so ignorant of your friend. mikey stays incredibly still, balancing on the rooftop railing with his arms limped on his sides.

only now have you noticed how incredibly thin he was, as if his arms were going to snap at any given pressure. "come down, please?"

mikey ignores your pleas like you weren't there at all. he looks up to see the full moon that shined above his lonesome figure, and he realized how peaceful the night can be if he looked at it more closely. he can hear someone shout from the bottom, though he assumes it were probably his subordinates who are currently watching his every move right now.

mikey smiles so painfully fake and he turns around to face you. your breath hitches, caught in your throat as his feet edged closer to nothingness. "i'm happy," he says. there were no tears, but his vacant eyes cried for solace. your lips quivered when you took another step near, only to stop when he takes one back. you blinked away the tears that were starting to form itself at the corner of your eyes, and you could feel them run down your cheeks. "i'm happy that i get to see you one last time."

your eyes widened when mikey lifts both of his arms up, one foot into the air to move forward. "mikey—"

"i'm really happy."

you don't know what happened after he had said that. everything became a blur, and all you know was the feeling of pure adrenaline rushing through your veins, the way your heart raced as if you had just ran a hundred miles.

you blinked and you were suddenly leaning against the railing where mikey once stood, hands stretched downward and you could finally feel the abnormally light weight of mikey's body dragging you down. you looked down and you see him, except his eyes were no longer void of anything—the blackness of his irises were scared, for you or for him, you weren't sure. the blackness of his irises shook, and he shouts in the highest volume that you didn't know he was capable of.

"what the hell are you doing?!"

your arms were beginning to ache, granted you have never once worked out to keep your body in shape. you weren't as strong as draken, nor mikey himself. if anything, you were probably even weaker than takemitchi who atleast have the power of a thousand in his heart.

but you pushed yourself on the balls of your feets anyway, one hand gripping on the railing for support while you tried your best to pull him up. "just let me go," you heard him sniffle, and there were tears now flowing from his eyes. mikey stares at you and you could only stare back.

you could feel your feet being lifted off of the ground the longer you hold him, and it is then you realized you don't have much time. the one hand that supported your weight on the railing lets go to clasp them around mikey's wrist, and you gave him a smile despite the tears and snot that messily decorates your face.

"you really think i can do that?" you choked out. "just grab on to the railing, mikey—"

there was nothing holding you back from falling down yourself but fright was not the emotion that cursed through you when you felt the way your feet had lifted off of the ground completely. all you felt was the fear of not being able to save mikey, fear for the future where he won't be alive to see another day; the future where he's only a passing memory.

you didn't want that.

mikey's free hand quietly reached up to the railing. something about your stubbornness, how you're risking your life to save him right now, is reawakening his desire to continue on living—with you, with everyone. the way your hands tightly held his without any intention of letting him go stirred something within him, and he finds himself trying to escape the death he have craved for so long.

you pulled mikey up with every once of strength you've got and he finds himself doing the same. his feet barely grazing the solid cement of the rooftop, but when he turns to the side to look at you with his tear-filled eyes, you weren't there to greet him anymore.

you could feel the air enter your lungs and danced inbetween your hair. suspended as gravity rapidly tried to pull you back down to the ground. you stared as mikey's figure becomes smaller and smaller, and you suddenly remembered how you were supposed to be scared of heights.

however, as you continued to fall to your doom, the fear you once felt were all washed out of your system, because as you stared at mikey's tiny silhouette, all you felt was relief.

that he's alive.

and that's all you cared about even when your back harshly meets the earth, and your eyes does not open to see him one more time.

hello! if it’s not too much for you, can i request for mitsuya, draken and mikey attending their s/o’s funeral. thank you!

❀ TILL DEATH DO US PART | TOKYO REVENGERS

— the boys attend their s/o’s funeral

; w i t h mitsuya takashi | ryuuguuji draken ken | sano mikey manjirou

; w a r n i n g gender neutral, second pov (you/your), cursing, angst, hurt no comfort, au - canon divergence, mentioned canonical character death, reader death, established relationship, scenario

; a / n ah yes, we’re diving deep into our usual dose of angst. also, tsuya is what you call a japanese wake.

; l i n k s references to please don’t go as well as one’s curse to bear and i loved, and i loved, and i lost

; MITSUYA TAKASHI

Mitsuya hates white lilies.

His mother’s friends, Touman members, your family, the people who went to school with you and him… They sent a bunch of them. Bouquets of white lilies decorated the room and all Mitsuya wanted to do was burn them to the ground.

He hates white lilies. He realizes that the moment he entered the room to see a ton of them littered around, surrounding your casket.

He stops by the entryway, nose scrunching up in distaste at the smell. Hakkai places a hand on his shoulder, as if urging him to continue on and to stop him from backing out. Mitsuya wouldn’t have backed out, he wouldn’t have not come. He wanted to see you, maybe for at least one last time. It’s the least he could ever do.

There were no tears in his eyes when he entered nor when he walked to the other side of the room as people watched him, whispered about him as Hakkai took a few steps back to give him space.

No. The tears only sprung out when he finally stood in front of the casket that held you resting peacefully. It started out small, small little droplets like raindrops in a drizzle. And then he was biting on his lip, shoulders shaking, trying to stop the sobs from leaving his mouth as he gazed at the picture where you were smiling.

Propped up on the very center for everyone to see. A field of grass with a big oak tree at the far back. The sun was setting behind the camera, obvious from how the skies were a pretty mix of purple pink and how it painted you orange.

Mitsuya remembered that picture. He was the one who took it. In the summer two years ago, first year of highschool, when he took you out for a picnic. The clothes you wore were loose, flowing with the wind, hair ruffled as you smiled with your eyes closed, the shine of the sun hitting you perfectly, that you looked golden.

You were beautiful.

It was what made him finally break down.

He was falling to his knees before he could stop himself, trembling with so much anger and pain. Hakkai was trying to help him up, bring him back, but Mitsuya was spiralling. He didn’t care about the whispers nor the stares, he was mourning. He was mourning, he was losing you, he already lost you.

Mitsuya hates white lilies and summertimes and he will forever do so. It’ll remind him of what he lost and the vivid day that brings back only bittersweet memories.

; RYUUGUUJI KEN

This was the third funeral he’d ever attended.

The first one was Baji’s. Someone he watched grew up, someone he watched joke around and bring up the idea of creating a gang with Mikey as the leader. Someone he watched die.

The second one was his first love, Emma. Someone he loved from the very start, from the moment he met her, from the moment he saw her. Someone he wanted to grow old with, someone he wanted to protect and take care of.

The third one was the person who helped him stand back up after his fall from the tower after Emma’s passing. The person who was always there, patiently holding his hand even when he didn’t ask them to. The person who he gradually fell in love with. Not because he didn’t love Emma, but rather because he respected her wishes to be happy.

The person that was you.

You who grabbed his hand when Mikey walked his own path. You who reminded him that yesterday was over but there was still tomorrow to look forward to. You who taught Draken how to love again.

Draken feels sick as he sits on the same spot he did years ago, more than a decade ago. At the very front with his back straight, shoulders high, fists clenched on his lap as silent tears trail down his cheeks.

Years had passed but he felt fifteen again, losing the person he loved the most. The person that had carved a place in his heart, so deeply that nothing could ever replace it.

You didn’t replace Emma and Draken didn’t love you like how he loved Sano. But it didn’t change the fact that he loved you still. You weren’t Emma and Emma wasn’t you. He was well aware of that. But it never did change his feelings for you.

Emma carved a part in his heart, and you did the same on the other side. But just like Emma, you left it bleeding as well. Left it bleeding and dying, with nothing to ever heal it.

Where had he gone wrong? What had he done wrong? Why does he keep on losing the people he loved? Why does he keep on losing everyone dear to him?

Cursed.

He was cursed.

Ken sits there, not knowing how much time has passed. Not noticing anything happening around him, not knowing anything. Only the fact that you were gone and he’s now forced to be alone once more. Now forced to drown.

This time, there’s no one like you who’ll come around his life ever again.

; SANO MANJIROU

How many tsuyas had he attended? How many more does he have to attend? How many people does he still have to lose?

Shinichiro, Baji, Emma, fuck even Izana. And now you?

Manjirou had attended too many, far too many one should attend in such a short life, in such a young age. Far too many funerals that were for the people he loved, the people he wanted to save and protect, the people he wanted to save him.

Once upon a time, Mikey had a lot of people with him. His family, his Touman, his love. All these people that surrounded him, so many people that cared. And then they slowly start to leave, slowly start to pass the bridge, to the point that Mikey starts avoiding the rest because he doesn’t want to see any more people leave before him.

Once upon a time, Mikey had a lot of people with him.

And then there were none.

Because the moment he lost all of them, Mikey lost himself as well. Manjirou was nothing without them. So there was no one left. Only a husk of who he once was.

Manjirou sits there, holding a white chrysanthemum. A flower for grief and goodbyes. A flower he offers you for the last time.

He remembers. The first flower he had ever gifted you was a red chrysanthemum, handed to you with a soft smile at the tender age of fourteen. A symbol of love, a great contrast to its white counterpart.

Back then, Mikey thought that he would never lose you. That death had missed you by an inch. That Emma was the last person to be taken from him. That he would be with you forever and a day more.

He was wrong because now he sits in that room, not caring that people were suspiciously looking at him. He may be Bonten’s leader but he’s your lover first and foremost. He falls deeper into the darkness with no you to help him back up as people watch him cautiously, ready to call authorities.

They didn’t need to worry. The only person he’s going to kill today is himself.

And then there were none.