aoisitsonmyface

[aoisitsonmyface]

(intro plays)

It was a stunning day in Rainwell South Islands. The sun shone brilliantly, casting golden light over the rolling green hills. The windmill spun lazily in the warm breeze, its creaking wooden blades a familiar sound. Nearby, the watermill hummed as the river carried its steady flow downstream, powering the village. Birds chirped, and children laughed as they played in the castle courtyard.

In the grand stone castle at the heart of the island, King Bon Asahina sat comfortably on his throne, his legs sprawled over the armrest, one hand lazily holding his phone. Of course, no one else had a phone in Rainwell South—electronics didn’t exist here—but Bon was the exception. No one knew where he got it from, but he always had it. As he scrolled through posts, something caught his eye.

A guy called @vergilsama92222 had posted some ridiculous nonsense about his beloved wife, Aoi Asahina. It was obvious nonsense—non-canon, outright lies. Bon didn't even feel angry. He just sighed and typed back, "That’s literally a non-canon lie." Moments later, chaos erupted. Vergilsama, and his equally furious friend @notpistol , responded immediately. They threw out insults, calling Bon delusional, mocking him, and making petty jabs about his life. Bon smirked, unaffected. **They were the delusional ones, believing their own lies.** "Pathetic," Bon muttered, his fingers tapping away as he mocked them back. **"stay mad, Aoi Asahina is MINES ONLY."** Twilight Sparkle, his ever-loyal secretary, sat beside him at her own desk. She pushed her glasses up, her violet eyes scanning the messages. "This is beyond childish," she said, levitating a quill and scribbling a note for the upcoming festival while multitasking insults. **"Do they really think their whining affects anything? It’s almost funny."** Bon chuckled. "Exactly. Look at them frothing over my response. It’s like watching dogs bark at the moon." Vergilsama was losing his mind, typing walls of text about how "Bon was the true liar" and how "everyone knew it." Notpistol, however, took an even stranger route—**he suddenly started simping for Bon.** **"I bet you smell good, Bon."** **"braid my hairs."** **"If we fought, you’d win, King. You’re strong."** Bon recoiled. "What the hell?" Twilight gagged. "Oh, that’s disgusting." But it didn’t stop there. Notpistol also brought up Bon’s closest companion, **Thomas the Tank Engine.** **"Thomas the TRAIN Engine is never on time"** Bon didn't even need to answer—**Thomas himself burst in through the castle doors.** "Listen here, you little sh—!" Thomas, the blue engine himself, was fuming, steam practically billowing from his funnel. "You’re lucky I’m not on Tumblr because I’d roast you so hard, you’d be a scrap heap!" Bon grinned. "See? Even my engine is done with your nonsense." As the argument raged on, a pair of furious blue eyes peeked over Bon’s shoulder. **Aoi Asahina.** "Who’s saying what about my husband?" she demanded, her ponytail bouncing as she leaned in. "These two idiots," Bon said, holding up the screen. Aoi read the messages, her face darkening with anger. "Oh, so they think they can just say whatever they want, huh?" She cracked her knuckles. "Lemme at ‘em." "They’re already suffering," Twilight smirked, watching as both vergilsama and notpistol were rapidly losing the argument. "Pathetic," Bon muttered one last time before ignoring them. And just like that, the drama was over. **Bon tossed his phone aside and returned to his real life—the one that mattered.** He strolled out into the sunlit courtyard, where Aoi, Fluttershy, and his **13 daughters** were waiting for him. The girls were playing together, their laughter filling the air. Aoi tugged at his sleeve. "You done arguing with losers now?" "Of course," Bon said, pulling her close. "They were never worth my time anyway." Aoi beamed. "Good. Now, let’s go swimming!" "Sounds like a plan." As Bon walked off with his wife and daughters, the windmill kept turning, the watermill kept flowing, and the kingdom of Rainwell South continued, untouched by the nonsense of the outside world.

(outro plays)