#for the second one the age/level of school does not matter

[nadiawritessomething]

I think about how the conflicts of Miles 1610 might be the main confrontation with Miles G on a psychological level.

If you remember, one of Miles' main conflicts was how he was seen by others. He wanted to be seen as an equal, full participant. He wanted to be an adult, he believed that he was in fact an adult — and the society that saw him as a teenager did not agree with this. It's very easy to have these thoughts when you're Spider-Man, and you're much younger and less experienced than the person who was before you. It's more than logical to think that Miles just wanted to be taken more seriously. To not be seen as a child.

"I said to not call me that"

And he proved it at the end of the movie.

But on the other hand, we have Miles G. A boy who had to grow up early. He had to survive, to think about crime and lights and money and how it all affects his family at an age when all he had to think about was school grades and milk at night. He pulled on the Prowler costume, every day having the option of just dying under the rubble for the sake of the city and his mother's well-being at an age when all a teenager should care about is fighting with his parents and the newest video game releases. He has had to learn to work and do things around the house: his mother works quite a bit, he spends a lot of time at his uncle's house, and in this environment it is not hard to understand that he has more than likely taken on the role of "second adult" in the house, just to make life easier for his mother as much as he can.

No one has seen him as a child for a long time. New Yorkers don't see the Prowler as a child: very few people would think that a 15-year-old boy would take such a risk. A young man, perhaps, but not a child. No matter how much Rio wants to, no matter how hard she works to ensure that her boy has at least some kind of childhood, he realizes that this is impossible as long as he knows all their water and gas bills by heart. Aaron does everything he can to keep Miles safe, but he can't deny him this: it's the price of being someone important.

Miles G does not see himself as a child. It doesn't change the fact that he is 15, doesn't change the fact that he loves comics, drawing, silly jokes, technology, and leaves his room in complete chaos. He can't be a child anymore, even If he wants to.

But still, he would pay absolutely everything he has to be a child for just one more day.

[ro-rogue]

the tragic thing about john doe is that he was doomed from the start.

he was likely born in a low- or mid-tier district: new bostin high's old king, zirian, was the only one john had trouble beating, before he figured out how to amplify abilities, and at the time he beat zirian, zirian was a 3.7. zirian, pre-john, was considered incredibly powerful, nigh unbeatable. in new bostin, someone who was barely an elite was considered incredibly powerful.

god-tiers are already incredibly rare. they're even more rare than high-tiers, and whenever remi, blyke, and isen visit a low-tier district as vigilantes, everyone regards them almost as royalty - unbelievably powerful, unreachable, divinity on earth. they are with dozens, and they’re terrified of a single, non-hostile girl. also, some of the background characters say: “what’s a high-tier doing in branish?” “yeah, they would never come to a place like this.” most low-tiers likely have never even seen a high-tier in the flesh, let alone a god-tier.

add to that that wellston is supposed to be the most powerful school in the province, at least, and before john, there were only two god-tiers in attendance: an 8.0 and a 6.3. and before arlo became king, rei was, and rei was a 5.8. the king of the strongest school in the province was a 5.8.

jane doe was raised in a god-tier family. she knows, presumably, what it means to be a god-tier, when everyone around you is weaker than you, and not by a little bit. but jane has been gone since john was a toddler - and the only person left to raise him was his father. his cripple father, who has lived his whole life being spat on, disregarded, considered less than.

and then you have john. john first discovered his ability in his last year of middle school. unordinary doesn't give us an exact timeframe, but it is mentioned that he first uses his ability towards the end of the school year. if we assume that the education system in unordinary is comparable to the us education system, then that makes john about fourteen years old. it is never mentioned when most kids discover their abilities, but sera mentioned that she got martial arts lessons for a few years when she was a young child, but stopped when her ability came in. assuming sera's development is normal and abilities usually come in at the same age regardless of level, that would place the average age well before ten. another thing: everyone around john seemed to assume he would never get an ability. they considered him a cripple. which either means that late-bloomers are so incredibly rare that it isn't even considered a possibility, or john was so far past the age of ability manifestation that no one thought it was possible.

of course, his dad was also a cripple, and since genetics are a thing in uno, it would make sense for people to assume john would be a cripple even before he passed the manifestation age. (and treat him accordingly)

john got expelled in his second year in high school. when, exactly, doesn't really matter. once again assuming that the uno education system works like the us education system, that would place john at 15-16 years old.

so you have this kid, sixteen years old, who's had his ability for about two years. he spent most of his life being considered the lowest of the low - spat on, disregarded, less than. his dad, his only parental figure, has had those exact same experiences, and the only thing he can tell his child is that that is just the way the world works. it's unfair, but that's life.

but then he gets an ability. and within two years, he is almost twice as strong as the second strongest kid around. none of the adults have ever met someone as strong as him. him, the former cripple, with the cripple father. former lowest of the low, now a god amongst men. the kids, though, his classmates, his peers, they don't really understand his power. how much stronger he is than them. to tell the truth, he doesn't either, not fully. he's never met someone as strong as he is, at sixteen. but his classmates, they just remember when they used to walk all over him. when they would beat him bloody and then complain about getting his disgusting cripple blood on their shoes. and now he dares to stand above them?

they don't like him. of course they don't. cripples aren't able to become gods. they can't comprehend that john did.

and john, obviously, lashes out at his former bullies. he finally has a chance to pay them back, for all the cuts, bruises, broken bones he'd received from them over the years. he's stronger than them, and it's his turn to make them hurt. he goes farther than they did - their abilities are useless against the might of his power - but he doesn't really care. (they never held back, so he doesn't either, and the damage he does is much, much worse. the adults are mad, and he doesn't get why. he's only doing what everyone else does.)

the adults have no idea how to handle him. he's out of control. but they've never seen an ability this powerful before, except on tv, or in stories. high-rankers are supposed to keep order. (but no one listens to john. why would they? he's just a cripple, the lowest of the low, who managed to cheat the system.) his dad, kind-hearted william doe the cripple, has no idea how to help him. he can't relate to his problems at all. (is there even a problem? who wouldn't want to be powerful? for william, for adrian, for claire, it'd be a dream come true. it used to be, for john.) there is no one around who even vaguely knows what it's like to be a god-tier, or even a high-tier, or even just a high-ranker in general, except for zirian, who's barely a high-ranker at all, and who hates john for dethroning him. there is no one who understands him.

so then you have john. sixteen years old. god-tier. angry at the world, and the world is angry at him. how was he ever supposed to win?

[mistressoftherant-blog]

Hypocrisy in the TMNT Fandom

I may come back to this topic at a later date, but I feel like I need to address the hypocrisy in the TMNT fandom when it comes to how 12 Donnie is treated for his crush on April, compared to other characters such as Bayverse Mikey and Mutant Mayhem Leo, or I might explode. Do I condone everything that 12 Donnie does in the name of his crush on April? No. Do I sometimes find the cringiness of his actions unbearable (keeping in mind that he is my favourite character in 12)? Absolutely. But is there context behind his actions that often gets ignored? Yes. Do the fandom vilify or make fun of behaviour from him that they let slide in other characters? 100% yes.

People love to bash 12 Donnie for his actions, without even considering the reasons behind them (poor choices from the show writers aside). April is the first human his age that Donnie really sees and gets to interact with. He's a deeply insecure character, who feels out of place even amongst his family and, as people have pointed out before me, April represents a wider level of acceptance to Donnie. If a pretty human girl can love him, maybe there is hope for him gaining wider acceptance from humanity. I do think he has genuine feelings for her, but I also believe that part of his obsessiveness is a desire to be more human, or at least be accepted by humans, and he subconsciously views gaining the love of a human to be a part of this. 12 Donnie (like most Donatellos), is keenly aware that he will never get what he wants, or deserves.

He is a genius, and that will never be acknowledged by the world. He will never get everything a human genius would get. He doesn't get go to school, or go shopping for new resources, or make friends who share his interests. He risks his life saving the world over and over again, only to be seen as a villain for the way he looks.

That's part of why he sees 12 Casey as such a threat, Casey is human and doesn't need the same level of acceptance that Donatello does. He already has everything that Donnie wants (he can go to school, make other friends etc), but yet he still wants to be with April. The first human to show Donnie any acceptance. One of the only people to even tentatively seem interested in Donnie's science. If April chooses Casey over Donnie, then that truly does mean that Donnie, as a mutant, and a nerdy outcast mutant to boot, can never find love or acceptance, (again, this would be Donnie's perspective, and it is not April's duty to validate Donnie's self worth by getting in a relationship with him - that being said, the mixed signals she sent definitely didn't help matters).

Also, his stalking is creepy, but this is a kid who grew up with no social interaction besides his brothers, watching shows that provably had dubious ideas of romance. All of his ideas of romance are influenced by media, which isn't exactly a healthy way to gain an understanding of how to express those feelings. And when he knows the exact distance to her apartment, I always thought that he was just insanely good at estimating distances? He's shown to be able to make advanced calculations around distances and things in seconds on the show, so this never really seemed that bad to me, even if the show itself deemed it creepy?

Moreover, for the most part, he does genuinely follow April when he believes she is in danger, or when she is distancing herself from them (again, absolutely not a healthy thought process, but he misses her and wants her safe, and thinks is the best way to handle it). Is it still wrong? Yes. But should Donnie as a character be completely dragged for this for eternity? Not really. Also, can we please move past reducing Donnie's character to nothing more than his failures at flirting?

There is also the fact that April definitely did flirt back with him on numerous occasions. Whether or not this was done consciously, or to manipulate him, or whatever, is a rant for another day, but 12 Donnie definitely does have reasons to believe that April could want a relationship with him. She kisses him, on the mouth, right after he had told her that he was going to stop with his behaviour.

People also genuinely forgive 12 Leo flirting with his sister more than they do Donnie calling April his sweet chinchilla (and yes, Leo and Karai are still flirty even after the reveal that they are siblings, though it is thankfully toned down later on, and though I've seen people jumping through hoops trying to deny it). And Leo's flirting with Karai (even before the reveal), is equally as cringy as Donnie's. He's the poster boy for the 'I can fix them' mentality, even when the person he was trying to fix was actively trying to destroy everyone he cared about. 12 Leo also puts his brothers in danger due to his obsession with Karai, hurting them both physically and mentally, but a lot of people sweep this under the rug and only focus on times that 12 Donnie puts the others in danger due to his crush on April, or see this as a positive thing, showing how Leo never gives up on the people he cares about.

Moving on, 12 Donnie can be possessive of April (again, not great behaviour, and not something I particularly enjoy or condone), but 12 Mikey is the same way about Renet, and no one mentions it? Donnie hugs her (or says he could hug her, I can't quite remember the exact context), and Mikey gets all pissy about it? He's known Renet for barely any length of time, and they have no relationship at this point, but he gets annoyed at Donnie having a friendly interaction with her, as if it hasnt been well established that Donnie is only interested in April? Why is this more acceptable than when Donnie gets annoyed at Casey (a confirmed love rival), shows off about being close to April?

Additionally, why are Bayverse Mikey and Mayhem Leo hardly ever given the same treatment as 12 Donnie? I see countless crossovers where 12 Donnie is given endless shit for his bad flirting, especially as it's towards someone who the other counterparts see as a sister figure, with hardly any of them ignoring how unfair it is to criticise 12 Dee for seeing April differently to the others when their circumstances are different, or bringing up anyone else's behaviour.

Bayverse Mikey is just as bad! In fact, some of the things that he says are far worse than anything 12 Donnie has said, and it just gets brushed over? Even in crossover fics where 12 Dee gets slaughtered for his crush, no one brings up the downright crude things Bay Mikey says?

He constantly calls her a babe (I think 90s Mikey also makes similar comments), and even says 'she's so hot I can feel my shell tightening' which is hella gross tbh. Sure, 'sweet chinchilla' is weird, but it's far less demeaning than babe? And Mikey keeps this attitude up throughout both films? Why is this treated as being more acceptable than 12 Donnie's behaviour? This is even worse as Bay April is clearly an adult compared to the teenage turtles, and is clearly depicted as an older sister figure. At least in 12 there is only a year age gap, and neither April nor her father had anything to do with them when they were babies.

Hell, a few chaarcters (I think 03 Mikey and either 90s Raph or Mikey) make a joke about getting to 'keep her' when they bring an unconscious April back to the lair, and no one bats an eye?? It's played off as a joke, but even so, it's still freaky, and I've never seen anyone mention it before. They don't even get admonished for it!

Also, Mayhem Leo is absolutely just as much of a cringefail flirt as 12 Don, but everyone is acting like he comes across as so much better?! We've only had one movie with him so far, but his behaviour so far isn't all that different to 12 Don's?

They basically act the same way upon their first meeting. The rooftop scene when he first sees her is almost exactly the same as the scene in 12. And the comment about her beautiful, perfect mouth? If 12 Donnie said that he'd be slaughtered, but because it was Mayhem Leo, it's considered cute? When 12 Donnie gets super excited about getting April's number even though they already have it on the fridge it's embarrassing, but when Mayhem Leo tries to get Mayhem Donnie's phone to swipe her number it's endearing? Both ramble and get nervous around her, but people think this is sweet from Mayhem Leo but annoying from 12 Don.

Plus, Mayhem Leo has far more experience with humans than 12 Donnie. He has been going outside of the lair for a while, he has definitely seen other girls before. In 12, Donnie had never left the lair before the night he saw April, she's genuinely the first girl he's ever seen in person.

This point may also be a little unfair as we only have the Mayhem movie at the moment, compared to entire seasons of the 12 TV show, but it's also irritating me a bit how many people are acting like Mayhem Leo has far more of a chance with April than 12 Donnie did, purely because she agreed to go to prom with him, ignoring her line about how it was just as friends, and the many instances in 12 where April reciprocated Donnie's flirtation (again, April kissed him on the lips in the cartoon. It is canon that she did so).

Why are there so many double standards around the turtles having crushes? Either address all of their behaviour, or stop throwing 12 Donnie's flirting in our faces. It's exhausting seeing people openly bashing 12 Donnie, ignoring all of his great characteristics due to his crush, and then turning around and glorifying 12 Leo, Bay Mikey, or Mayhem Leo, or just ignoring their behaviour. It's grating to see almost every chat fic (even ones I thoroughly enjoy!!), have a seemingly obligatory bash 12 Donnie's crush and flirting chapter, yet hardly ever address the way any of the others behave.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hey hey! I've read your rules like 3 times and I think this is okay, but I'm really sorry if I missed something! Self aware Leona, Azul, and Jamil with being the favorite specifically because the reader can relate to their trauma in a way?

Eg, having a golden child sibling (Leona), having been bullied (Azul), or essentially being parentified (Jamil)

I don't think this counts under the trauma dumping rule, but again, I'm sorry if it does, or even if it's on thin ice!

It’s (at least in my eyes) not exactly trauma dumping but you are right with it being on thin ice. Some authors are a bit more sensitive than others after all. Also, I have no siblings so.. uh… I tried my best with Leona.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, imprisonment, murder, unhealthy relationship, family problems, obsession, stalking, manipulation

Leona Kingscholar/Azul Ashengrotto/Jamil Viper-Player is able to relate to their problems

Oh so you also have a sibling? Never heard of the higher power of this world ever having one

With Sunset Savanna being more relaxed but still very respectfull when it comes to you he isn’t going mad over new things he learns about you (just sometimes having that happy, bubbly feeling in his chest… gross… tell him more!)

But then his Overblot happened and… yeah… you two had a talk

Would you look at that? Even otherworldly beings can have that totally healthy and absolutely not toxic comparison to their supposedly better part of their family

Leona also already stalking… uh pardon. I meant sleeping everywhere you are doesn’t help either

But now your presence is even more like warm sunlight on his skin for him

So let’s set the scene, you are walking through the garden of the school and suddenly somone pulls you into the shade of the tree just to lay their head on your lap and sleep once more

And I am not talking about a ten minutes lap… I’m talking about a four hour thingy

But hey, the air is warm, the dorm leader who declared you his pillow hair is soft like a slinghtly heavy, warm blanket and you can’t remember when you had the last time more than a few hours rest

And boom! You wake up in his room

Oh no no no. This isn’t some sort of yandere fan fic… ha…haha… but the door is unlocked and nothing else but Leona clutching onto your side in his sleep is holding you back

What did you expect? A cage in his room with you in it? Do you even know how hard it is to take care of someone imprisoned whilst having to hide that you are the person who kidnapped them?

But that doesn't mean he won’t use other means to mentally chain you to him

Always using his brother to gain your sympathy, saying that you don’t care about him…

Before you know it you are once more his pillow, combing through his hair with your fingers

But wait, isn’t he smiling? Nah, he was just disappointed a second ago…

Prepare for the tears

No joke, this poor octopus will break down the second he hears you have been bullied like he was

Azul is already… special when it comes to you and even hearing that someone called you once a not-so-nice name will make him break down

And later on burn with passion to make a deal that is totally not shady and not life-ruining with them

Please tell him that it’s alright

That was all in the past and you are now ready to move on and just live life the good way

Also, can you hug him? For him? For me?

What can I say, after you defeated his overblot form and had that talk he started to treat you like you were made out of glass

Not like it was much better before but… I don’t know… he just does the coodeling on a whole other level

Before this Flozd liked to squeeze you and Jade to be a well-meaning meneace in your life

Over those bone crushing and mind grinding times, you are going to be well protected until you feel like you are an antique in a Museum

And if someone dares to do something to you (or rather, what Azul understands under that) then whoopsy! They are suddenly gone

No need to visit the beach any time soon. That sea foam looks suspicious…

But believe me when I tell you that you will eat the best food you ever tasted in your life, for free!

You are more to Azul than just an allknowing scholar. You are someone who understands him and he will be damned if he lets anyone treat you less than with utmost care ever again!

Cue to Medusa popping up and getting defeated

But imagine the shock on Jamil's usual calculating face when he saw you laying a cold towel on his head just when he woke up

Why was the Overseer teding to him? A mere servant who even betrayed his own master??!

He gets even more confused when you insist on helping him after Kalim is up to his usual doings

To be honest, he is thankful

He was a bit shaky on those legs after using so much magic and you helping him is something he appreciates

But this raises the question, why do you seem so experienced in taking care of someone and helping them as well?

Oh no, Jamil won’t be so tactless to just ask but he will watch you… right after he took care of the silk Kalim ordered

Jamil has admired you his entire life. An otherworldly being who even made the Sorcerer of Sands look up into the sky and search for your wisdom among the stars… how fascinating!

And what power you must posess! You were even able to enter his world-Jamil Viper, a student that doesn’t know you woke up without knowing how you got here one fateful day

After he gets better he is dead set on repaying you (no, he did not think about joining Octavinelle)

It’s just… you were so warm… and so kind… and so worryingly good at taking care of another person…

Wait… did he just become your own personal Kalim??!

This is also what made him finally questioning you about this and… safe to say his carefully crafted mask slipped from his face and smashed on the floor

Someone dared to make the Overseer take care of them??!

The aftermath to that is him becoming your personal servant. Kalim can get poisoned for all he cares. Now you are the important one here… in that room with the many locks.

[piracytheorist]

Episode 29 thoughts

I made some passionate statements about the first part. Now it's time for a bit of analysis.

So I had seen the trailer where Anya looks sad after having failed her tests and it kind of struck me how she reached the point of crying alone in her room. And well, now I know it was because she was scared of being separated from Becky.

And because I can't keep my mouth shut about this, one of the reasons Anya's friendship with Becky helps her - probably without her realizing it - is that she has someone to back her up when Damian and co. bully her. Becky is always on her side and losing that could cause her severe stress. Sure, they'll still be in the same school, but when your school environment is so toxic and also demanding, losing the constant presence of a friend in the class can be devastating. Trust me, I know of toxic environments in class, and I know of not having someone to back you up. I don't call Damian a bully just to spite fans.

At the end, Damian, despite willingly choosing to let Anya win, he inwardly accuses her of manipulating his feelings - when in fact Anya was simply terrified of losing Becky as a classmate, and that's why she cried. He's still not ready to confront his feelings. He showed sympathy to Anya and then told himself that she manipulated him into that. It shows that he has potential but in no way does it justify the way he makes fun of her - as well as practically encourage Ewen and Emile to jump in on the bullying.

Anyway. Tests go bad, and Anya despairs that she'll be separated from Becky. Becky however, continues believing in Anya. I wonder if Becky would ever consider purposefully flunking her tests so that she can stay as Anya's classmate. She's not doing that well in the friends department either.

Twilight notices her achievements in ancient language (jesus what are they teaching those kids) and is surprised, searching for a reasonable explanation.

We are reminded that he doesn't know anything about her past, can only speculate about it, and decides that since he doesn't have the full info there is no point to do that. The dutiful spy regaining control after the still-in-development paternal feelings got him trying to make sense of his daughter's mind?

Despite her failing scores, Loid still announces to her he made her favourite dish, which instantly fixes her mood.

I think, when in the first episode Anya heard Twilight's thought about how he wants a world where children don't cry, it gave her the impression that he would provide her with an emotionally safe environment - something that was solidified when he was ready to punch Swan for making her cry. Even if she doesn't realize it fully due to her young age, she chose to stay with him and do her best to get into Eden because she trusted that in his heart, he truly wants her to be happy.

So one could argue that Anya is very lucky that despite the levels of Twilight's emotional constipation, he really has the heart to comfort her after she's had a bad day. But it's not really a matter of luck, when she chose to stay with him after she saw what he hides beneath all the spy front, is it?

Warning for blood under the cut.

I gotta say, the transition to the second part was way too jarring. Since the last sight of the first part was a background, the second part should have slid in with another background - like for example, the busy city around Franky's kiosk.

I feel like an idiot, having spoken about the Cyrillic sentences in the previous episode, and now we get this.

I... What even are some of those. Why so many alphabets. Where are those even from and what do they have to do with the Ostanian culture. Does anything make sense anymore. What is life.

Anyway. Anime-onlys are finally introduced to the name Garden and What. The. Fuck.

(excuse the poor collage I'm too tired for photoshop rn)

This image isn't in the manga. I think it's the first time the anime shows more violence than the respective manga chapter, lol. Where did they even get that much blood and how did they get it so high on the wall? Asking the real questions here.

"They eliminate one traitor after another on the shadow government's orders."

That is extremely interesting! Shadow government? Employing an independent assassin group to clean out their traitors?

... Traitors, a group which would include Twilight and Franky?

Franky immediately describes someone fitting Yor's fighting abilities and Twilight is like "No such thing!" shaking his head even. The denial runs deep already, lmao.

Honestly, a bit of a shame we were robbed of Twilight's face as he walked away.

"This isn't worth any intel you might promise me."

Franky puts his skills and connections to use and it was cool to see him in his natural environment, being so smooth and certain in searching around for information.

The part of Franky working with Yor could be summarized with "expert meets expert but they're both such idiots they do not immediately suspect each other". Like Yor I understand being naive and so trusting she sees all those contraptions Franky creates and immediately believes he's all legal about his business. Now how Franky saw her demolish his decade-old work and was like "I shall not question this" beats me. Guess he was also lovestruck for that Kacey woman, and like Loid, he sees a clear spectacle of extraordinary physical strength and goes like "Everyday occurrence. I'm just sad my invention is gone."

That cat is traumatized for life.

Yor's coworkers are... a bunch. We got some sympathetic moments from Camilla in episode 16 but she's still the mean girl type in the office. Yor's naivete truly protects her sometimes from having her feelings hurt, doesn't it?

I think this will play a role in identity reveals. When it comes to everyday civilians, Yor sees the best in them and assumes they have the best intentions. When she kills, she considers her victims bastards and traitors. Right now, Yor has an amazing impression of Loid... how will that flip when she finds out about all the lies he's told and all the ways he's been using her and Anya?

The change in her expression though, when she realizes she's getting a call from Shopkeeper!

I wonder what client was so important that he had to call her in the middle of her workday. Hopefully the plot kicks off from the next episode and this thirsty anime-only shall find out!

[missmics]

Last pic of the three of the Subway Boss Family is cute! Quick question, does Akari call them Uncles, or one dad or both her dads? Or does she have different nicknames for both of them?

Short answer; Ingo is 'dad' and Emmet is 'uncle' but she considers both terms to be pretty much interchangeable and is very confused when others don't. Ingo is the one who legally adopts her and Emmet is officially her uncle. That being said both take pretty much the same amount of responsibility in for her.

Long answer; Fic upon ye

It took months before Akari felt truly safe enough to let her new guardians out of sight for very long. Emmet and Ingo didn't blame her. Having been abandoned once was already traumatic for such a small child. She would throw tantrums when left unattended, even if only for the night while they slept in rooms adjacent. Eventually, they conceded and took turns having the second-hand crib (donated by a colleague whose children had outgrown it) in their rooms lest the neighbors start to worry. For one with such small lungs, she could scream very loudly.

At least on that front, she could have really been Ingo's daughter.

That was what they had eventually decided on when almost a year had passed and they realised they couldn't give her away. The intention had been to only foster her until her absentee parents were found. She had somehow become separated from them on their watch, and as such, it was their duty to ensure the safety of their young passenger. But there had been no progress. So they asked to keep her.

Ingo was more eloquent, so both brothers agreed it would be easier for him to argue their case. He became a dad, and Emmet an uncle.

Akari didn't refer to either as such.

Her Galarian was poor. Not unsurprising with her age and seeming newness to Unova. Instead she bestowed on both sloppily pronounced titles they didn't understand the meaning of. It was hard to interpret what she wanted at times, but she seemed content. She was happy and healthy and that was all that mattered.

Ingo and Emmet weren't sure she fully comprehended what adoption meant. The social worker had explained in her language, but she was still very small. Regardless, she became more confident with time. She stopped trailing them like a caboose and became more willing to be left to her own devices so long as at least one brother remained in the apartment. Her separation anxiety improved until finally it seemed worthwhile to chance finding her a place in the preschool downtown, close to the station, so that hopefully they could return to work as normal.

The first day she was left at the school it was hard to tell whether guardians or child was more nervous. Ingo and Emmet got very little work done that day.

"What if the other children treat her poorly?"

"She is upset. She hates us for leaving her."

"It is very difficult to make friends, she doesn't speak the same language, they might be mean to her."

"We left her. Like her old parents."

After spending the last hour of their shift in the office, staring at the clock and making very little progress on actual paperwork, they finally broke and left to pick Akari up.

But Akari was not upset.

She bounded up to them happily, chattering away incomprehensibly with the odd word here and there in understandable Galarian. Emmet nodded along, hiding any confusion behind the usual smile. The girl grabbed at Ingo's gloved hand—her own small enough to only close around a finger—and tugged. He obliged and hunched down to her eye level only to immediately have a paper shoved in his face. It was a drawing of three stick figures on a printed out page with cheery bubble letters reading 'family' in one corner. Apparently; the product of today's work.

The girl continued babbling away, the few parts he understood being adjectives describing her day. She then beamed proudly, pointing at each of the other parents in the process of collecting their children. As if explaining a difficult concept, she began to recite as she pointed:

"Mom, dad! Mom, dad! Mom, dad!"

"Moms and dads! Yes, excellent! Bravo!" Ingo praised, patting her head gently. She looked back at him happily before her face scrunched up in confusion. Slowly she raised her hand again, pointing right at Ingo's face making him go cross eyed as he tried to look at the tiny finger inches from his nose.

"Dad."

Ingo froze. His mouth fell open as he floundered to respond. She continued, pointing at Emmet.

"Mom."

Ingo broke out of his startled silence. Emmet's mouth fell open, his face going red. It was enough to make Ingo burst out laughing. He took the small child by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug while Emmet sputtered in the background.

"No, Emmet is 'uncle'. No mom, yes dad." He shook his head fondly, tilting his hat down to hide the tears building in his eyes. "Yes dad. Moms are girls."

He could practically see the gears turning behind her bright slate eyes as she struggled to comprehend the meaning.

"Moms girls…" She bit her thumb, before brightening. "Elesa!"

Ingo broke down laughing, joyful tears shining in his eyes.

Just wait until Elesa heard that one.

[hitodama89]

I got some questions about Mundane Pokémon in an art Discord server, so let's dive into the first couple of the topics that were brought up!

The first thing people were wondering about was how does friendship evolution work in this setting? And I myself decided to talk about it together with trade evolution, because the answer to both happen to be the same: it's not actually known how they work! Scientifically at least.

Traditionally they have been believed to be two sides of the same coin, friendship evolution process starting when the living conditions of the Pokémon are stable and favorable enough and trade evolution happening when the Pokémon goes through extraordinary hardships but survives and comes out stronger from the experience. Modern science does know that both processes start due to hormonal cues, but like I said before, it's not yet well understood what triggers those hormonal changes in the first place. They do not seem to be tied to age or social status of the Pokémon the way level up evolution is and they do not require ingestion of minerals like stone evolutions do. Scientist continue to investigate the matter, but considering especially what the triggers of trade evolution are traditionally thought to be, it's not an easy subject to study ethically.

The second question was how does Eevee and its many evolution paths work.

This one has a rather simple answer: all of the different evolutionary forms are actually regional variants. Eevee populations that have lived for many generations in cold climate have evolved (Darwinially) to evolve into Glaceon, Eevee who have adapted into nocturnal lifestyle evolve into Umbreon and so on. These separate populations are normally capable only taking the one evolutionary path they have adapted to, but here's where things get a bit messy...

The thing is all of the Eevee lines are capable of crossbreeding with each other. In nature it happens only occasionally, but Eevee has been a popular pet for centuries if not millennia and in the past some people started delibiretaly trying to breed Eevee that are capable of taking any evolutionary path its owner chooses.

Nowadays there are pretty much two schools of Eevee breeders: those who think the population lines should be kept separate because that's the way it is in the nature, and those who think that every pet Eevee should be able to evolve into any form its owner wants to. Both sides have their pros and cons: multi evolution line Eevee tend to face problems while evolving much more often than their natural counterparts, but single evolution lines suffer from too narrow gene pools. That's because most of the pet Eevee are multi evolutionary at least to some extent, while wild Eevee populations are nowadays endangered.

[merv606]

KKera Daniel with CKera Terry is so dirty yet so hot hahaha.

Just naive, innocent young Daniel totally swept off his feet by this much older billionaire. It's a massive scandal but since when has Terry cared? Maybe it starts off the summer graduates high school, 18 years old and he gets a job working as some sort of maid (?) in Terry's house, anything to pay the bills since he has no one else and isn't sure what he wants to do with his life (spoiler: he's gonna do Terry lmao)

And he catches Terry's eye Big Time because he's pretty and sweet and sassy. Maybe he's clumsy and trips right by Terry, and (ever the fake!gentleman) helps Danny to his feet and sees the scared doe-eyes and the floppy hair and the bitten lip. And Daniel is scared he's gonna get fired because he broke this expensive vase, and god, Mr. Silver is very handsome, and he's kinda had a thing for older men for a while now...

Daniel's totally a virgin and Terry is hugely delighted about this and ruins him for anyone else. The sex is dirty and hot and filthy and Daniel loves every second.

In some sense the affair ruins daniel's life because the public thinks of him as a golddigging slut, a whore who took advantage of this "old man"--and it's nothing like that-- hell, Terry is the one who made all the moves and Daniel was like putty in his hands! but Terry reassures Danny that he will leave him enough to live comfortably after he dies, so fuck public opinion and let them enjoy each other while they can...

The only sad thing is the age difference :(

If it’s wrong I don’t want to feel right - it’s something I have thought about and have done stories in my head but have yet to write (maybe sometimes they are ABO 😈 paperback novel style - Daniel a rare male omega and Terry in need of an heir - so Daniel offers himself up to an omega matching agency for wealthy alphas - He agrees to marry Terry in exchange for financial gain - not for himself but because his family needs it).

But imagine this Terry - and his expression is because he’s laying eyes on Daniel for the first time …….. just saying.

The agency had contacted Terry right away, considering the price Daniel can fetch - a pure male omega capable of bearing many heirs for the Silver Dynasty - It’s not secret he’s been looking for one. He’s had his name with every matching agency across the country, and there’s the fact that he has the deepest pockets and the agency gets a cut.

But we could tweak your idea as well / maybe Daniel gets a job and Terry can sense he is an omega upon first meeting him - a rare male omega (if you’re going ABO you gotta do all the tropes) and isn’t that beyond lucky - he’s EXACTLY what Terry has been looking for.

Maybe Terry interviewed him himself and that's why he hired him and keeps him on despite not being the best at this kind of thing. (This is similar to a Nanny Au idea - omega Daniel hired by Terry to watch his newest acquired niece and Nephew - I think I had an ask about that .

He starts to do things - scenting him - spending a lot of time around him - knowing these things will both warn off any alpha who thinks Daniel is available and that it will trigger a heat.

Poor Daniel is none the wiser about what is happening - having no experience with Alphas in a mating sense.

Terry knows it's only a matter of time before Daniel responds on an instinctual/subconscious level and goes into heat - intending to take him when he does.

Daniel has never had a heat and a first has no idea what is going on / drawn to Terry's room where's found, humping Terry's pillow, face buried in the sheets for his smell.

Terry follows the smell through the house until he finds him like that - pillow soaked - Daniel frustrated because although he can make himself come it's not giving him the relief he needs - the true sense of relief that only a knot can give him

Daniel is ready for the picking now.

"I'll take care of you. I know exactly what you need and I'm going to give it to you."

Although the first heat is meant to be more of a bonding/mating heat - he does knock him up (and in a darker AU maybe he tampers with the birth control to ensure that).

It's a shotgun wedding after that of course - although everyone knows why.

Daniel nervously trying to hide his pregnancy - worried about Terry's reaction - he already heard the whispers when Terry made him courtship public and he started taking him out on dates - what people would say about him.

Terry is elated of course (it was his doing after all) and tells Daniel he'll take such good care of him and his pups.

"Pups?"

Terry laughs, hand on his stomach. "Of course Daniel. Did you think l'm only going to get you like this once?"

"You were made for this - made for me."

There are the whispers that Daniel did it deliberately-knowing his heat would cause Terry into claiming him but Terry knows the difference.

Oh, he knows all too well.

[gorbalsvampire]

Essentials 2, 3 and 7 for Penelope, and Life 2, 3 and 8 for Sorcha? 😁

The Essential Penelope

What year were they born (or how old would they be in life), and what age do they appear? What age do they feel?

Penny was born in 1909, ghouled in 1948, and Embraced in 1959, just shy of her birthday. She looks late thirties - it's hard to imagine her not looking late thirties, in theory she must have been a child at some point, but she gives the impression that she plopped into the world at Cambridge aged twenty-two and nothing that came before particularly mattered.

She feels no age at all. Penelope is Penelope. Her sense of self is a bit ragged, underneath the iron confidence she projects, and she could be ninety or nine hundred: it wouldn't matter. She'd still be her. Whatever that means.

Which Clan do they belong to? How do they feel about their Clan?

Lasombra. Nominally, Lasombra antitribu, but which sense of the word is... up for debate. In the Sabbat, she was very much a "pack first, sect second, clan third" thinker - as far as she's concerned, all True Sabbat are antitribu and should be working on transcending the limitations of their bloodline, and the Panders who rise from mass Embraces are lucky to have a head start.

But... she still has a chip on her shoulder about it. She is of the bloodline of Montano, and she's been thoroughly taught what that means. An outcast's outcast, choosing the high and noble road, and she can't have that without being Lasombra, and she can't really dine out on it in the Sabbat either.

Which Disciplines do they possess, and which do they favor using?

Oblivion 3, Dominate 2, Celerity 1, and if I re-use her as an antagonist for another story, she'll have picked up some Potence and Animalism to go (and probably a bit more Oblivion). In her role as priestess and interrogator, she finds the applied theatricality of Oblivion suits her down to the ground, but in the field, she's more reliant on her Celerity and talent for stealth.

Getting a Life with Sorcha

Do they still have mortal family or friends, or descendants of those people? Who were they closest to during life, and is there anyone they’ve contacted after their Embrace?

Hell yes she does - she's a Dunsirn, she still lived with her folks for the first six months after she died. Besides her vampire da, Sorcha is still in touch with her mother in Venice, and most of the cousins she grew up with are at least on Instagram-commenting terms. Schoolfriends are fewer and further between - she's sold drugs to a lot of them but that doesn't mean they're friends. She has stayed in touch with Wee Tam, her tenant and bestie and Touchstone, and she rooms with a little gang of medical students who know her as their weird RA who lives in the cellar and can't go to lectures 'cause she's got Schere's Disease. On top of that, she has a lot of acquaintances - she's distinctive, she's out on the town at least three nights a week, and she's got the good molly.

What were their hobbies, skills, and interests?

Hmm, this is trickier - Sorcha tends to monetise anything she's good at - but she never figured out how to make money out of dance, or gymnastics. Her form's not great, but she's surprisingly bendy and she has a good time with it.

Her school reports indicated she had a prodigious knack for chemistry and design - the subjects she ended up taking to Bacc. level and walking out with a Distinction, thank you kindly.

She likes karaoke, but she has an awful singing voice, and has been gently dissuaded from participating.

When they were Embraced, what was the aftermath like? Did they fake their death, do their loved ones think they went missing, etc.?

Oh, Christ. Sorcha's Embrace was one of the events that kicked off a whole chronicle. She bled out on her junkie "boyfriend's" mattress, and was rescued by her dad, and she doesn't know which of them Embraced her or why she came out thinblood. All she knows is, Jimmy's very dead (he copped a hatchet to the back of the head two nights after she died), and to all intents and purposes she is Alistair's childe.

Her family knew, of course they knew - Hecata, remember? Most of her casual acquaintances have heard that she OD'd, and suspect that her dad had something to do with what happened to Jimmy, and that's another reason people from school don't stay too close to her - nobody wants to be next. She was back on the dancefloor by the end of the month though, bragging about her results and dancing her ass off... and then she really disappeared, leaving Glasgow for the best part of three years.

Her social media was deleted and remade a couple of times in there, she was posting from LA (except when she wasn't) and she went very #desertaesthetic for a while, then off the grid completely, but she seems to have come out swinging in the last eighteen months.

The thing is, people who know Sorcha know she's a freak, and a dealer, and that her dad's some sort of gangster. They're kinda used to weird shit happening around her. It's a big part of how she gets away with being like she is.

[arikihalloween]

I feel like you were a horsegirl at some point, lol

I-

Okay first of, this is so on point I am offended

Second, yes, I did horseback riding for 5 years, then I had a trampoline incident

One bad jump, and I twisted my sacrum which led to pain for around six month

And then my brother kicked me on accident and it was six more month of pain

After that I didn't feel like going back to riding, I didn't wanna have to be social to the rest of the group again 😭

Tho to be very honnest, I've never been a horsegirl horsegirl

I loved horses, and still do, and as a kid I had so many horse related stuff, and loved watching My little pony because omg pastel ponies.

But I wasn't really competitive, I never was trying to get the best of everything, have every horse related item possible or get my own horse ( all of which my step sister did and still does actually, she has been riding for around 10-ish years now ! It's a whole other level haha )

But anyway

Yeah.

Also as a matter of fact

I did horseback riding until my accident, then it was archery for around two ish years, and then self defense for one year, all between the ages of 8-9 to 16-17 ( not counting what I practiced at school, tho I did do my fair share of rock climbing )

[hvrdfeelings]

(  song kang. cis man. he / him.  ) ⸺ 🦬 greetings, buffalos !walking around campus, sporting  his death tarot card we’ve spotted  DAEHYUN “JOHNNY” MOON, a  twenty eight year old who contributes to our thriving community as a  GUARD. according to our intel, he’s been around the sanctuary for seven years and what we know about him, aside from the fact that he  doesn’t agree with the decision to close the gates, is that  before the outbreak, he had dreams of becoming a pro gamer and now he views the aftermath as his own personal video game to keep himself sane, but he’ll also always jump at the chance to volunteer at the greenhouse as he finds it therapeutic amongst the chaos, and he carries the death card around with him despite not believing in the practice as it was the last thing his mother gave to him. doesn’t that make him fantastic ? we think it does, and that’s why we appreciate him so much, grateful for what he gives to our community.

⸺ written by  honey ( she/they . 28 . pst . n/a. )

basics

korean name: Moon Daehyun american name: Johnny age: twenty eight birthday: january 7th, 1995 zodiac sign: capricorn sun, aries moon, cancer rising gender: cis male sexuality: bisexual occupation: guard positive traits: cooperative & intuitive negative traits: disorganized & reckless

headcanons

born in suwon, south korea, daehyun's family moved to anaheim, california when he was five years old. he suffered through his elementary school days with kids picking on him for not knowing english, for bringing 'smelly' foods from home for lunch, and being smaller than everyone. he'd come home each day crying, with his parents asking if he had made any friends and all daehyun wanted to do was to go back home.

during the summer before he would enter middle school, his father had gotten a new job that would require the moon family to move to aspen, colorado and that's when daehyun decided that he would create a new persona of himself -- he wouldn't be the same kid who got picked on back in california. he started to go by johnny and while he hadn't lost the accent, his fluency level in english got him by just enough that no one questioned him.

in second grade, at six years old, his parents would welcome a baby girl and let's just say, he holds a lot of regret about how he acted towards his sister when they were just children. she became the favorite, the one who could never do wrong. and at the time, he couldn't understand it, why his parents suddenly started treating him different but he simply blamed her -- they were happy until she came along. but after all these years, he eventually realized it was never her that he should have been upset with. but at his parents for practically pitting them against one another from the day she had been born.

entering high school, daehyun had lost the accent and only went by johnny. at this point, he was more american than korean, so why continue using that name? he had ultimately stopped speaking to his parents unless absolutely necessary because why should he try when they have the perfect little girl to take care of them later on in life? despite the good grades and attempts at extracurricular activities, none of it seemed to matter to them. so he began to hide away in his bedroom on weeknights and weekends, making friends with people through pc gaming because the only thing that mattered on there was skill and daehyun had an endless amount of it.

it started off with making small amounts here and there from local tournaments, his parents constantly mocking his dreams because who could make a living off playing video games? but daehyun knew there were people making some kind of living and he wanted to be just like them. so instead of having those classic high school experiences like attending dancings or falling in love, he made all of his online whether it be with warcraft, starcraft or league of legends.

but that dream got cut short when the outbreak began at only seventeen, just one year sigh of being eighteen where he had amazing (not so well thought out) plans of moving and going to college. being across the country and proving his parents wrong. now he was stuck with them and his sister and no internet. this was just great.

his father went first, not the healthiest man in the world, and daehyun was handed a gun. he had to be the man of the family now. protect his mother and sister. false assumptions being made that because he could shoot a weapon in a game, those skills would transfer to real life and boy was everyone so wrong about that. at nineteen, his hands shook whenever he held it in his hands. the things they expected him to shoot were real, there was no respawning.. but if he really thought about it, how different was their life now to a game like fallout 2? could he not just view the infected in the real world like the infected from the game? after that epiphany, his hands shook less and his accuracy got better. and unfortunately, daehyun would sometimes get a little too trigger happy.

at twenty, his mother passed and handed him a tarot card that represented death. it had been a hobby she picked up after her husband passed. if it kept her sane, he didn't judge but he also certainly didn't believe in it. but of all the cards she had to give him, did it have to be death? though he could vaguely remember her telling him that it didn't mean what he thought it did. while they only got close due to the virus and were ultimately forced to spend time together, he keeps the card folded up in his pocket as a reminder of her.

due to him and his sister not being all that close, they had no real reason to stick together once their mom passed and his sister had decided to run away in the middle of the night. she was just fourteen at the time, he spent days and weeks trying to find her because he assumed that's what a good older brother does. he hoped she hadn't met a terrible fate but eventually, even he knew he had to move on from the hunt. she was either alive and well, or she wasn't... to this day, he still thinks about her and if he could've done more in finding her.

luckily, at twenty one, daehyun had found the sanctuary that he had heard whispers about. he would offer his skills as a shooter, promising to protect those in the university like they were his own family as he had failed to protect his sister. and if he's not on duty, he always happily volunteers at the greenhouse or sometimes even the farm (when it isn't required) as he finds working with his hands to be therapeutic.

at the university: in the beginning, daehyun struggled to open up to people and make friends as his way of making friends had been through a computer screen but it's a bit easer for him now as he's been at the university for quite some time. it can be hard for him to turn off the 'video game' mindset -- like wanting to have the most amount of kills or trying to show off even though he understands it's not a race and he's there to protect over everything else. since there isn't much to speed run in real life, his current fixation is how quickly he can take apart his gun and put it back together. if he's not on duty or volunteering, he likes to play card games such as poker or you can find him pretending like he knows how to play chess.

wanted connections

his sister! -- tbh most of this is utp, i have no name in mind or fc (obviously has to be korean/korean american), and around 22?

an ex. -- i imagine they met at the university and they broke up due to having different opinions on whether or not the gate should be closed. since he's bisexual, fc can be quite literally anyone.

other than that, i'm open to anything else! especially friends/found family

[levmada]

// justttt an AOTxTLOU au with Gabi as Ellie and Levi as Joel. short cute fluffy drabble<3 | 0.8k

The dingy little office-space around them flashes pale blue when lightning cracks the sky. The sound of rain creates a soft, cozy atmosphere, fueling Gabi's good mood. It’s not every day you get to stay in a place without boarded-up windows: it’s to her left, perfectly intact save for the heavy, torn curtains. Outside is a three-story drop down to the sidewalk where kids her age probably used to… walk. It’s a school after all.

That’s why Levi decided this is where they’d stay, he said, but she’s pretty sure it’s mostly because there’s less of a mess. He made her sweep and dust before heating anything on the kettle. Not tea though. Tea, and then dinner.

At least it’s small. So small in fact that with the long desk shoved up against the door and the small bookshelf on the other wall, this room will barely be able to fit the two of them to sleep. If Gabi has any more wins to take after today, then it’s to get Levi to sleep for once.

Despite the small, controlled fire burning between them, it’s cold. It's raining harder now, beating against the window, and contrasting against the crackling embers.

She pulls her knees closer to her chest, dips her chin in the collar of her thick parka, and sighs obnoxiously loud.

Levi, wearing a long, thick trenchcoat of his own, had been watching her over the rim of his cup. His scarred, silver eye looks even cooler in the firelight.

He sips obnoxiously loud. “What?”

“So are you finallyy gonna tell me how you got those scars?”

He blinks. “Why would I now, after the last thousand times I told you no?”

“Becauseee…” She tilts her head, causing one long lock of brown hair to fall over his eyes. She whips it away. “We did a good job today?”

“I killed about half the hunters on this side of the city while you threw bottles at them.”

“You’re forgetting about the part where you helped me shoot your rifle! And then I covered you? Don’t you remember, or are you that old?” she teases, beaming.

He grunts, and stretches his leg out beside him, where the blanket doesn’t cover, and gives way to the stringy, dingy carpet. Also, his boot bumps the wall. He makes a face.

What she doesn’t bring up is the fact he hasn’t let her shoot already. As in, on her own. He trusted her with covering his back with his rifle today though, so she feels no need to bring it up again. For now.

He brings his leg back, and crosses them again. “Tch, I remember. You did a fine job with that.”

She gasps. “I know, right!?”

“Yeah. You didn’t blow my head off the whole time.”

She groans, and deflates. It was a mistake to think he’d praise her with no strings attached. Maybe he’s joking, but it’s always hard to tell.

He squints. “I’m joking. You did a fine job.”

She straightens up again. “Oh. Okaygood. Now, will you tell me? How about how you lost your fingers too, while you’re at it?”

“Greedy.”

“We’ve crossed, like, twelve states, right? I should get a story every six states. That’s two.”

He scoffs, but for a second, maybe a trick of the light, it looks like he’s smiling. After another sip of his tea, he appears to actually consider it.

She holds her breath. If she wasn’t sitting on the floor, she’d be on the edge of her seat.

“I did ‘em myself,” he finally answers, leveling her a stare as if he’s serious.

She deadpans. “Ugh, just say you won’t tell me. Don’t get my hopes up like that. You’re not that mean, Levi.”

“You brat, I am…”

He cuts himself off as what sounds like a metal piece of furniture, like a desk, is shoved somewhere on the floor below them.

“Levi?” she whispers.

He glances toward the door. “That was too loud to be a person trying to sneak around. A person with a brain in their skull, anyway… and it wasn’t near any entrances.”

As he explains, he places his tin down and reaches for the side of the desk. His sharp, sturdy machete leans against it, about as long as Gabi’s forearm. No matter what he does, he does it silently.

She sits up, trying her damndest to imitate him with silence, and lowers her ear against the floor.

He glares. “I told you not to do that. Disgusting.”

“Is it a Runner? I don’t hear any clicking.”

“Maybe… You hear more than one?”

“Maybe?” She shuts her eyes and tries to focus, to help correctly. “Definitely two. But how could they even be there? Place was empty when we got here.”

“They roam,” he says simply, goes on one knee, and then stands. He’s leaving.

She opens her mouth to immediately protest. “I can handle a few—”

“I know, but you’re loud. I’ll see if there really is two. Runners. And then…” He sighs, and rests his machete over his shoulder with a certain fondness to his gaze. “…Maybe you can get some practice on the crossbow. How does that sound?”

Her brown eyes widen into giant saucers, and whispers, although a little louder than she meant, “Perfect!”

“Good.” He passes her by with a pat on the head. “Now stay put.”

“Got it,” she breathes, still grinning.

[akanposting]

2002

This was to be my last "little outburst." My right hand is fractured in two places. My jaw may need wired shut. The day shift nurses set my bones and I'm kept on a high enough dose of painkillers that I can't leave my bed even if I wanted to.

Father offers me an ultimatum: I can be civil and maybe have a chance at unsupervised existence outside this concrete kennel, or I can reject his experimental surgeries and remain trapped here until he gets bored or "accidentally" kills me or maybe security is lacking one day and I finally murder the bastard. The prospect of having my own life is too beautiful to consider the alternative for even a second. I agree to my father's suggested neural implants: an aggression governor and a data retention accelerator, both inserted via a small incision on the left side of my neck, about four centimeters below the ear. I'm already built with spare parts as is. What's another gadget or two to add to the list? At least these sound more exciting than some of my other toys.

The governor does what it sounds like, it keeps my hormones in check. My hair-trigger temper cools, and what has always been a boiling-over pot of rage rarely rises above a low simmer of annoyance at even the most intense provocation (tried and tested). The accelerator is like a cheat code for my ability to learn and recall new concepts. The developmental obstacles I faced in my formative years have until this point stunted me emotionally and intellectually, but this implant can change everything. My remote schooling becomes a breeze. I leap from intro-level algebra to advanced calculus in a matter of weeks. I'm fluent in my second, third, fourth languages in less than a semester's time. Chemistry and biology become my obsession. I devour every encyclopedia and medical journal I can get my hands on. Father lets me read some of his early records on cybernetic prosthesis and artificial organ transplants, even some notes on the first human testing. He's removed the pages about his tests on me, but I remember them well enough.

For the first time in a long time I begin to have the tiniest flicker of hope deep inside my chest. Hope that I'm going to survive this place. Hope for a better life somewhere else. My eyes are dead-set on enrolling at Oxford University, and Father says he can make it happen when I'm of age. My ticket out of hell.

[thevoidcannotbefilled]

REVOLUTION

The lights always shine in the most glorious way. No matter the time of day or the month, they could turn any cold studio into a burning stage. In their gaze is the show.

The Host smiles into the camera.

“Hello, everybody to this weeks’ episode of-

“REVOLUTION.”

Her voice doesn’t echo. The space is well too insulated for that. The Host notes the mics adjust the slightest bit, but nothing more.

There is no audience to see her. There hasn’t been one for the longest time.

“REVOLUTION,” the Host continues, “the game show where we put the phrase ‘what's life without a little risk’ to the ultimate test. Here our contestants risk it all for the chance to turn their lives around and become star-level citizens. I'm your host, Amy Jane and I invite you to join our-

“REV-O-LU-TION!”

The Host stares into the camera for a heartbeat. In her head she counts. One, two, three seconds of response. 

“Here’s our contestants for this round.”

Contestant 1 is a younger woman. Excitable, full of energy. She’s a second-level citizen and a working mom, despite her age. Contestant 1 hopes her victory could provide a better chance for her family.

Out of the corner of the Host’s vision, she sees her other star squirm.

The Host’s smile is sharp when she asks, “And what about you, Contestant 2?”

To their credit, they have a sympathetic backstory. They explain nervously that they work three jobs. They’re doing their best, of course. Trying to be a contributing citizen, live the dream as it were. It just isn't enough.

They’re a fourth-level citizen, the poor thing. Aren’t even a high enough class to go to secondary school. They say, with the smallest of smiles, they hope their victory will change that.

Contestant 1’s gaze turns steely at that.

“Well, it seems the competition is fierce! Best of luck to the both of you!”

It’s funny how anything if done enough times is like a dance. The game is simple enough. The first round is a silly section of trivia. Who founded this country? How many years is the current King’s reign? What is the country’s flower and so on and so forth. 

Contestant 1 is a bit ditzy, but well-meaning. She answers her questions with a great amount of enthusiasm if little actual knowledge. The Host can practically hear the fake audience go “aww” at the small tears in her eyes.

Contestant 2 certainly knows more. They seemed to have studied.

Good for them.

It goes on and on like this, hours at a time. The Host notes with a smirk, how tired her little stars get. The way their shoulders slowly sag from obstacle courses to trivia spin the wheel challenges to blindfold tests to trivia again. By the end, Contestant 1’s lips curl with an almost manic smile. Contestant 2 watches the numbers on the board. 

The Host wonders if they feel their life ticking down despite their nearly even scores.

“Well, wasn’t that just something, and may I say, Lily? That was an amazing backflip. Who knew you had such talent?

“Now, everyone. It’s the final round and you know what that means! Time for the final vote! Here’s how it works. The audience will get the chance to vote for their favorite contestant, who do you think will be the best fit to move onto the next week? Based on the percentage score, each of our stars will be delegated points accordingly. If you want to see your favorite star rise to our ranks, make sure to go to our website and cast your votes!”

The two flinch when the Host turns to them. Her smile grows wider. 

“We’ll see the final results, right after these messages!”

The lights power down with a heavy bang, but it isn’t until the director calls for a cut that the Host’s face finally falls. Still, the Host feels Contestant 2’s stare at the back of her head, even as she heads offstage. It’s only when her two stars are taken away by their bodyguards does she feel herself relax. 

It will be easy from here. There will be a pause, they will ask the loser how they want to end their life, a victory celebration will be set up for their winner, and the Host can present their final show and then go home. Another day’s work done. 

Alas, it seems like even the smoothest dances could go wrong. 

In the middle of her makeup reapplication, her manager bursts into her studio. He scowls and huffs, and only in between one of his incomprehensible rants, does he actually tell her what’s going on. 

Contestant 2 refuses to sign their final testimony.

When the Host asks why he’s bothering her with this, her manager only huffs and says that their star refuses to speak to anyone except the Host. 

Perfect. Just perfect. 

Not everyone accepts their fate easily. Take Contestant 2 for example. As the Host approaches them, she takes note of what has been done to them. All tied up, gagged, bound to a chair. Two guards stand behind them. They’re both armed, and one of them has the papers Contestant 2 needs to sign. 

As the Host approaches, Contestant 2 sits up straighter. It seems from between now and the stage, they haven’t learned to stop glaring. If they weren’t gagged, the Host has no doubt there'd be a joining scowl. 

She smiles at them regardless of their manners. “Hi, it’s nice to see you again, Tam. I’m sorry you haven’t been treated well, but it seems as though you haven't chosen your method of death. While you can choose a default option, we pride ourselves in providing grand final moments that our contestants will be satisfied with showing to the world.

“Now, will you please sign? We don’t have all day.” The Host leans over and removes the gag. Instantly, her star starts spitting. 

“You can’t get away with-“ They’re cut off quickly when the Host stuffs the gag back in their mouth.

“That’s enough of that.” The Host says so sweetly, far too nice for someone who has a job they need to be doing. But she keeps smiling, even as Contestant 2 starts shaking with rage. 

She presses the gag in until Contestant 2 chokes. She only lets go when the Host can see the anger in their eyes start twisting into fear. Even then, she curls her nails into her little star’s face, until she can feel the flesh want to break underneath her. 

The Host smiles, and it twists wider at the fear in her star’s eyes. “You seem to be a bit confused about the proceedings. Allow me to explain.

“You lost. You bet that your low-life was worth something and the audience disagreed. As per your contract, your life is forfeit for them.“

They try to shake their head, but the Host keeps them still, not letting them move a muscle. Instead, they look away, anywhere but her. It’s sad how their eyes frantically dart for some sort of anchor to hold onto. Surprisingly, Contestant 2 straightens up in their chair; the host follows their gaze and ah.

Derek, the night janitor. Contestant 2 makes a fool of themself as he walks by. Yelling into their gag, spit flying to the floor and on the Host’s hand. Rightfully, Derek doesn’t even spare a glance at the two of them. He takes the trash out of the bin and moves on.

When the man is out of sight, Contestant 2 slumps into their seat like a child denied a treat. The Host scoffs.

“Did you think he’d ever help you?” Their gaze sharpens toward her. “He’d never. Don’t give me that look. Think about it, if they’re so willing to kill someone on live television for views, what do you think these people do behind closed doors?”

They freeze.

Fractionally, their eyes grow wider. A bit of relief releases in the Host’s chest.

Finally. They seem to understand.

The host releases her hand and they gasp in the cloth. The fear is still in their gaze, tension stiff in their shoulders. Slowly, softly, the Host says:

“If you live, it won’t be the producers' lives at stake. No, that’s us. Yes, even me. I’m replaceable. The crew? Replaceable. No one is going to be your savior. All you’re doing is making it harder on us by acting like a brat.

“No one wants to die. That’s why it’s my job to make sure that you do.”

The contestant stares, waiting as if the Host will say anything else to save their fate. Slowly, they slump into their seat, eyes wide and growing more vacant as they finally understand the truth. They risked their life and they lost. That’s it. 

As they sit, there’s no fight, no tears, simply the dead weight of someone accepting their fate.

As nice as that is to see, the Host has a job to do because of them. She snaps in their face. They look up, and their gaze is empty.

“It’s okay to be scared but think about it. Why leave your life on such a bad note? This is an opportunity of a lifetime to make your last moments a grand finale.”

Her lips crack into a smile. “And remember, they give bonuses for higher ratings.”  

To the Host’s surprise, Contestant 2 looks up defiantly once more. She wonders what they’d do to her. What unflattering words they’d spit at her if given the chance. It’s impressive how much one person’s glare can burn.

Then something seems to occur to her star. Their eyes grow wide for a fraction of a second, and they settle, finally seemingly complacent.

The Host can’t help but feel uneasy when they nod at her then look to the bodyguard to sign their fate away. Their gaze is a tangible thing, even as she leaves the room to go back to preparations.

The Host follows the motions again. The checklist continues, the mic, the timing, and the current notes from the director (good as always, keep it up). Surprisingly, the Host is also handed an envelope. Inside it, she knows Contestant 1’s name is in it. Their victor.

It also has the method of death Contestant 2 has chosen. Usually, this takes a bit longer for approval and setup. After all, you don’t want someone trying to be clever and put “old age” as their method. Before the Host can ask, the crew member has already moved on from her. It’s fine. It’s not particularly her business anyway.

She stands at the center stage once more, envelope in hand and a smile on her face. With a thump, the light’s glory burns on her skin, and the dance continues.

“Hello, everyone and welcome back! It’s time to reveal the final results of your vote.”

She opens the envelope, looks up and laughs. 

“Lily Farris, congratulations, you are this week’s winner of REVOLUTION!”

Some lights and percentages flash on the scoreboard behind her but otherwise it’s quiet. In the silence, she pauses for the audience. One, two, three, and frown.

“Unfortunately for Tam, their risk didn’t pay off. But don’t be too sad for them! They’re going out the way they want to go with-“

The Host blinks and freezes. She reads and rereads again to make sure the words are correct. She looks up to the crowd of barely visible cameras, and the lights shine harshly in her eyes. The Host turns to look offstage.

Her stomach drops when she sees Contestant 2, with empty eyes and two bodyguards behind them. One guard holds her star close. The other holds a gun in their hand.

“I see,” the Host manages to say, “Well isn’t this interesting.”

She knows she should be looking at the audience. Turn and look, and smile and laugh. Do your job as you should. It should be easy. Instead, she feels the building dryness in her throat and barely manages to croak out. “Contestant 2 wants me to be the one to send them off! How sweet! I knew we built up a rapport.”

Finally, she manages to turn away. She looks into the lights, even as spots dance in her vision. A laugh bubbles in her chest, as smiles and smiles- “This is a new one folks! Me! Part of the sendoff! Who’d of thought it!”

Someone taps at her shoulder. She swerves around, and the bodyguard stands there, pistol in hand. His hand hasn’t left her shoulder. The pressure is light for now, but she knows what it means. 

The Host continues to smile and takes the gun. 

“Well, I haven’t had much practice with one of these things, but I did take some lessons back in the day. Let’s see how well they do for me.”

As she turns and aims, the guard finally steps away, but she still feels him, just as she feels the burning heat of the lights on her face, the stares from the cameras, and the gaze ahead of her boring into her soul. 

Her star stands in front of her. They’re blindfolded and gagged. But she knows, even then, that they’re looking at her, pleading. She has the gun. She can stop this; run away and save them both. 

Tam shakes their head. 

But why would she take such a stupid risk? 

The Host shoots. She watches Tam’s eyes grow wide, and they fall to the ground with a wet thump. There they wither on the floor, the first shot insufficient.

So she shoots again and they’re still.

There’s a buzzing in her ears. Usually, the sound is comforting. It’s a sign that everything is according to plan, a dance to settle into as the lights shine. 

It overwhelms her now. Her fingers can’t stop shaking. It’s good she doesn’t need her hands to finish the show. Only a smile and a few familiar words. 

“Give it up for our victor, Lily! Lily, come here! There we go, don't be shy! Smile you won! You’re ready for the next round!”  

It’s easy. So easy. Put her arm around her star. Don’t look at the blood pooling on the floor. Make sure they are both looking ahead. 

Don’t forget to smile. 

Don’t forget who's watching. 

The gun rests at her side. She grips it tighter when her star tries to slip away. The guard thankfully keeps them together, and she pretends she doesn’t see the other one clean up Tam’s body out of the corner of her vision. 

Instead she smiles. 

“Join us next week for another round of REVOLUTION, and remember, ‘life’s not worth living without a little risk', so why don’t you risk it all!” 

And the Host laughs and laughs even as the lights shut off and the day’s dance finally ends. 

[quartzelaii]

Perfectly Aligned

CHAPTER I

— L/N Y/N, best friend to Kageyama Tobio since age 6. L/N Y/N, the object of all Tsukishima Kei's desires since age 15.

Masterlist

PROLOGUE ➛ CHAPTER I ➛ CHAPTER II

word count: 7.8k

ONE YEAR LATER

"And then after that, Coach told me to practice tossing balls that stop at the hitter's highest contact point. Hinata and I tried it out earlier. We got the hang of it pretty quick."

"That sounds complicated. How exactly do you that?'

"You just go... pow, and the ball should go whoosh."

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from giggling. Even at 15 years of age, Tobio still uses his ridiculous onomatopoeia to explain stuff. You still find it cute and endearing, no matter how stupid he may sound whenever he does it.

"No, dumbass, I mean show me how you do it. I wanna see this new toss of yours."

Tobio looks at you with his eyes squinted suspiciously. Without a shot at subtlety, he glares at the purple and white school uniform you're donning as if the garments offend him greatly.

"How do I know you're not gonna sell it out to Shiratorizawa's setters?"

You scoff back a laugh. "If I were gonna sell out your new fancy move to anyone, it'd be to legit V.League teams. Maybe they'd pay me for it too, then I'd be hella rich."

"All the more reason not to show you that toss, then."

The two of you are hanging out at the Kageyamas' backyard. Your wristwatch tells you that it's already almost 7 PM. Tobio has just returned from training and you have just left school from your own club duties when the two of you see each other on your shared street.

"Can I stay over at yours for a while? Mom texted that she's gonna be home late." You said, trying hard not let the disappointment in your voice become evident. "Again."

"Yeah, sure." He shrugged. "I'll tell Mom to cook extra for dinner since you eat like a pig."

"Hey, that's not a nice thing to say to a lady!"

With that, the two of you walked together to his house. That's how you found yourself sitting on their veranda instead of inside the comforts of your own home at 7 in the evening. Tobio is doing solo passing drills, concentrating on not making the ball hit the ground. You, on the other hand, is sitting cross-legged on a wooden divan with your school bag sprawled beside you, watching him a few feet away.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that, Tobio." You pout. "I may not be a player anymore but I still get excited over these things."

He stops passing the ball to himself and looks at you.

"You'll see it tomorrow." There's a glint in his eyes that you can't quite place, his lips turned ever so slightly upward.

"Kill joy." You mutter but don't press any more.

There's a few seconds of silence broken only by the thumping sound of volleyball as Kageyama continues his solo drill. You watch him, fascinated. His form, his technique, his level of concentration— they are all commendable. It's one of these moments that make your own fingertips itch to play again.

"Tobio?"

"Hm?"

"Are you nervous for tomorrow?"

He doesn't even stop to think for an answer. "Why would I be?"

Tomorrow is the start of the Spring High Preliminaries. Not being able to play on high school really did put a bitter taste in your mouth. You miss volleyball. You miss the thrill of being in the court. You miss the feel of the ball on your fingertips. There's a small albeit persistent voice inside your head that tells you to go back to being a player. You smother that voice down whenever it rears its ugly head, but there are times that the voice gets the better of you. Whenever you start missing volleyball, like you do today, there's a dull ache in your chest that is comparable to the feeling you get when you lost your favorite toy as a kid— you know it's time to let go but at the same time, you can't and don't want to.

You're envious of Tobio. He's fulfilling his dream of being a professional volleyball player one match at a time without nothing but time hindering his inevitable success. Whereas, you are stuck on a path that you're not even sure is the best one for you.

Shaking your head and ignoring these negative thoughts, you smile at your best friend instead. "Right. Who am I asking?"

"There's no need for me to be nervous." Your hear him continue and you see him look at the ball in his hands, his eyes having that same intense look you saw earlier. "We've been training hard since Inter High. We've evolved a lot. I'm confident in my team, and I know we'll go to Nationals."

Tobio is not looking at you but you smile nonetheless.

"And we'll definitely beat Ushijima-san!"

You almost jump from your seat when he suddenly barks out, his finger pointed at you. Since you started high school at Shiratorizawa, Tobio does not pass up on the opportunity to mention it any chance he gets. It's as if you're now his rival, which is ridiculous but at the same time entertaining.

You let out a laugh— not a mocking one but a genuine laugh of amusement. You have no doubts that he really meant it when he said he'd beat Ushijima Wakatoshi, or at least he'd die trying. You make a mental note to watch the Karasuno vs. Shiratorizawa match no matter what it takes because you have no doubts that it's definitely gonna happen.

"Tobio! Y/N! Dinner's ready!"

Tobio's sister, Miwa, waves at both of you from the door.

"We're coming!" The two of you say in unison.

You follow your ravenette best friend inside the house. His family is already seated at the dinner table by the time you arrived at the dining room. They greeted you warmly, telling you to sit down and be comfortable. Tobio's mother even offered you a gentle side hug while his sister comments on how great your hair looks, like she always does— you'd always blush profusely at the compliment. You have always been the target of Miwa's obsession on hair— there is even one time a few months ago when you let her cut and style it to her liking.

His father, whom Tobio got his aloof personality from, is intimidating and scary— and though you see him regularly, you haven't really gotten used to his menacing persona. Nevertheless, he always voices out his warm welcome to you whenever you come over to their house.

Up to this day, it still makes you feel overwhelmingly grateful that you found a second home in the Kageyamas. With your mother's hectic work schedule and your father being one town away, you find yourself coming over at your best friend's house more often these days. For this reason, his family is used to seeing you and having you over for meals. Sometimes, on weekends when you and Tobio don't have school, you would be seen lounging around, either playing 1v1 volleyball with him on their backyard or videogaming in their living room. Your parents' divorce has been hard on you— though it's been two years, it's still not easy to adjust to having a broken family. Sitting here tonight, surrounded by Tobio's own family, somehow dulls that ache.

You mull over these thoughts for a while as you scoop up a helping of nikujaga. You look at Tobio sitting beside you who's already scarfing down his tonkatsu bowl as if he's been starving for days, unaware of your eyes on him. Miwa's laughter rings clearly as their mother tells a particularly funny story that happened to her today at the groceries. The story is indeed hilarious because Tobio began choking on a mouthful of rice in an attempt to suppress his own laughter, forcing you to abandon your nikujaga and pound his back. His father chastises him for eating too quickly. His mother jokes that he should be ashamed of such behavior in front of his future wife— the latter being a joke among the Kageyamas which you've heard a thousand times before that you don't really mind it anymore. Though, you'd be lying if you said it didn't leave butterflies in your stomach every single time. Miwa burst into another fit of guffawing at that.

Dinner at your house is never this lively, you think to yourself. As you bring a piece of vegetable in your mouth, there's one thought that lingers.

This feels like home.

Your Mom's Prius is already parked in the driveway when you arrived home.

Your wristwatch tells you that it's 7:48 in the evening. Normal teenagers would be scared out of their wits to face their parents whenever they went home this late, but not you— going home at this time of night has been a common occurrence for you lately. Since your mother started working late, your curfew also pretty much became non-existent.

"I'm home!" You called out as you remove your shoes before putting them on the getabako.

The first thing you notice as soon as you enter the house is your mother sitting on the couch, a messy array of documents sprawled in front of her on the coffee table. She still has not changed out of her work clothes and the hand bag she takes to work is lying on the coffee table along with the plethora of papers. You deduce that she has just gotten home.

"Where have you been?" She asks without looking at you, her hands sorting through the papers she's holding. You plop down on the sofa beside her, stretching your legs as you do so.

"I had dinner at Tobio's."

"You've been over there a lot lately. How many times has it been this week?" Your mother looks at you for the first time since you arrived. She has that disapproving glint in her eyes that you know all too well.

"His family may think that I'm not taking care of you enough since you eat there all the time." She continues, now crossing her arms over her chest and looking at you sternly.

"I'm sure they're not thinking that." Your defensive reply comes quick. "Tobio's Mom told me I'm welcome anytime. Besides, sometimes, it's them who invite me over."

"Why don't you just have dinner here? I'll leave you my card so you can order food if I'm still not home yet."

You don't want to argue with your mother. You learned at a young age that it's best to just agree with everything she says because she somehow always gets her way in the end, anyway. So, you mumble a quiet "Okay."

"By the way, Mom," You say after a few seconds of silence. "Have you eaten yet? I can get you take-out from that restaurant across the street if you want."

"It's fine, honey. I already ate." It's evident from the tone of her voice that she's exhausted.

She's rifling through the documents in front of her, her eyebrows furrowed. Upon looking more closely at your mother, you see that her hair that is usually meticulously curl-ironed is a bit disheveled. There are dark circles under her eyes, which you know your mother hates having. To top it all off, the way her eyebrows are knitted so intensely has you worried if it's gonna form wrinkles on her otherwise perfect skin. Her complexion is looking a little dull as well, and you can spot a few pimples flaring up on her forehead and chin, probably from lack of sleep or stress, or both. The fact that she's a dermatologist is sounding a little ironic now.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Concerned, you ask the first thing on your mind. You've never seen your mother looking like this. Though, in all fairness, you haven't seen her a lot at all lately. This is the first time in weeks you've looked at her this closely.

As if snapped from her own train of throughts, she looks up from the papers she was holding and gives you a tight-lipped smile that looks a little too forced to be genuine.

"Why don't you go get changed first and meet me back here again." She finally says. "I have something important to tell you."

The curiosity nags at you, but you do what you are told, nevertheless. You change out of your school uniform into a comfy sweater and a pair of shorts before returning to the living room where your mother is waiting for you.

You sit down beside her on the navy blue sofa, chewing on the inside of your cheek anxiously as you wait for her to speak.

"Y/N, dear," Your mother starts, taking a deep breath to gather her thoughts. "I know I haven't been present around here enough. There are days that we don't even see each other because of my schedule. I'm sorry, honey. It must have been hard for you lately."

You can only stare at her, unsure of what to say. You open your mouth to speak but your mother raises a hand, effectively shutting you up before you even spoke.

"What you have to understand is— I'm doing this for us, for you. I always come home late because I use the time off work to take care of something else. I've been busy finalizing all the necessary legal documents so I can open my own clinic. It's been a long time coming but it's happening now soon." Your Mom's voice raises half an octave in excitement. Her lips are formed in a grin and her unusually pallid complexion is now dusted in pink. She seems so happy to announce that news to you.

"Mom, that's great!" You almost shriek in joy. You're well aware that it's been her dream for the longest time to open a dermatological clinic that she can call her own. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"I wanted to make sure first before telling you. It hasn't been easy preparing for it and even then, with the cost of construction and the limited available locations, I wasn't hopeful that it could happen. But now, I think everything has been taken care of. The only thing left to do is to pick a date to start construction, and then it should be smooth-sailing from there on out."

"You still should have told me, Mom. I could have helped any way I could." Your pout is short-lived because the joy of hearing the news overpowers any sulking you plan on doing.

"It would've just distracted you from your studies. It's best that I handled it on my own." She waves you off, still smiling.

"Where will the clinic be built, Mom?"

The smile on her face dissipates slowly as she hears your question. Your mother swallows thickly, looking at you for a while then back at the documents. You are quick to note the sudden shift in her expression, though you don't quite know what prompted it. There is something wrong. You can feel it palpably in the air.

You can only hold your breath as you await her next words.

"Harajuku."

"Harajuku?" You tilt your head in confusion. "But that's in Tokyo."

"Yes, it is." A sigh escapes your mother's lips. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

You realize what she is trying to say before she even says it. You don't even have the time to process the information properly before she utters her next words.

"Y/N, we're moving to Tokyo."

The last half hour has been a blur.

You remember crying. A lot. You remember sobbing until your throat felt raw. You remember your mother pleading for you to calm down and listen to her explanation.

You're leaving Miyagi.

You're leaving everything behind.

Your mother couldn't stop you from storming out of the house. You just wanted to get away from her for a while. Part of you is mad at your mother for springing up the news like that. It's ironic that she thought this would be the best way to tell you. If anything, telling you all of it at once only succeeded in making you feel worse.

It is unfair to you. Not that you have any say on what your mother does to expand her career, but at least, she should have consulted with you before she made the decision to move to Tokyo. You are her daughter. You are her family. This kind of life-changing commitment should be shared with family first before going full-speed on it.

You feel extremely overwhelmed with the news you just got. Your mother has to realize that this is not going to be easy for you.

That if how you find yourself wandering around the neighborhood, away from your mother. There are fresh tears falling from your eyes. You're lucky the streets are dark so the little amount of people that pass you by cannot see that you're crying.

Perhaps it's muscle memory that led you to the Kageyamas' front gates at such a late hour. Whenever you have something on your mind, however big or small, Tobio is the first person you want to tell.

You look up at the house. The only lit window is a room's upstairs which you know is Tobio's room. He's still awake. You fish out your phone from your shorts' pocket, your thumb hovering over his contact name. You're thinking of calling him so he could come down and meet you. If there is someone who would listen and understand, you know it would be him. It's always him.

A sigh escapes your lips as you change your mind. Tomorrow is the start of the Spring High Preliminaries. Tobio should be resting now. Though you're certain that he will give you his time and full attention should you ask him for it, you also know that it would be selfish of you to take advantage of that. You shouldn't keep him up just so you could rant about you moving to Tokyo, especially the night before a crucial tournament.

With a heavy heart, you continue walking. You're so lost in your own thoughts that you let your feet take you to wherever they wish. Walking calms you down. It is therapeutic and healing to you, so you continue to walk without no destination in mind. The night is chilly and you're starting to regret your choice of clothes— a flimsy sweater and a pair of your school's gym shorts.

It takes you a few minutes of aimless walking before you're basking in the soft fluorescent light of a local café. The enticing scent of freshly-brewed coffee is enough to lure you in. You push the door open, hoping that the patrons inside don't see how puffy your eyes are. The last thing you want is some stranger offering you pity.

The café is small. There are only five tables inside, all of them occupied except for a single booth nearest to the counter. Before you know it, you're ordering a cappuccino and a slice of strawberry shortcake.

You sip your hot drink, looking around the faces of the people inside the establishment. Surprisingly, despite the amount of customers, there is minimal noise aside from the occasional chatter and laughter. You entertain the thought that everything that happened before this moment has been a dream— that you're not really moving to Tokyo and you're not going to be forced to leave everything you've ever known. It's all just a bad dream and you'll wake up in the morning and be able to laugh about at how silly it all is. That particular thought is calming, even though you know yourself that it is a blatant delusion.

A song is playing from the overhead speakers. You recognize it immediately as one of the songs in your playlist you listen to whenever you need to calm down your thoughts. The lyrics are in English but you have listened to it countless times before that you have memorized the words to it by now. Before long, you start singing along to it without even realizing— it is a force of habit you have acquired from years of listening to your tunes all alone. Though your voice is barely above whisper, inside the quiet café, the sound of your soft singing is still heard.

The door chime rang, signaling the arrival of a new customer.

You're vaguely aware of a figure walking past you but at this point, you have busied yourself reading the inspirational quotes framed on the walls to even look anywhere else.

"Can I have a medium latte and a slice of strawberry shortcake, to-go, please?" You hear the newcomer say.

"I'm sorry, sir. Were all out of strawberry shortcake. Would you like to pick another dessert?"

"No, I'll just take the latte." He sighs, taking out his wallet from the pocket of his pants and setting down a few bills on the counter..

"Alright, then. Name?" The barista asks, holding a Sharpie to a cup. The newcomer gives his name but you didn't quite catch it.

You look down at the slice of strawberry shortcake in front of you that is still untouched. The dessert looked good on the display but now that you have it, you realize that you're not at all hungry. You ate a lot at Tobio's house that not even your stomach can make room for dessert. You're not even sure why you bought the slice in the first place.

As the barista prepares his drink, the man continues to browse the other desserts and pastries in the display stand. He doesn't seem to find anything he likes, though. Oddly enough, you feel guilty because you don't even plan on eating the dessert he want and yet he's gonna be forced to leave empty-handed.

Once again, you glance at the dessert in question, trying to weigh if you still want it or not. When you've decided that you definitely don't, you come to the decision that it would be better to offer the slice to someone who actually does want it. With this, you clear your throat to get the man's attention.

"Excuse me?" You say all of a sudden.

The man turns to look at you upon hearing your voice. The first thing you notice is the eyeglasses adorning his eyes— hazel eyes that look at you questioningly. A spark of familiarity passes through you as you continue to study his features.

Ridiculously tall. Blonde. Hazel eyes.

You've seen him before.

"What?" He has his eyebrow raised, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie.

The back of your mind still itches with familiarity. You know you've seen him somewhere before. The answer to that question is at the tip of your tongue...

"Oh! You're a volleyball player from Karasuno, right?" You find yourself blurting out without meaning to.

So, that's where you know him from. He's Tobio's teammate. If you're not mistaken, he's a freshman middle blocker. You could have recognized the blonde sooner if only you don't focus on only Tobio whenever you watch his games.

"Yes." You could have sworn you saw him roll his eyes at you, albeit subtly.

Rude, you think to yourself. He could have said yes without that unnecessary eyeroll. Nevertheless, you still continue speaking.

"I heard that you ordered strawberry shortcake, but I think I got the last slice." You motion at the dessert in front of you. "You can have this, if you want. I haven't touched it yet. I'm not hungry and I don't feel like eating it later. It'd be such a waste."

"Then, why did you get it?" The blonde is now fully facing you. His height— which you're guessing is at least 180 cm— towers over your seat. He has his head tilted ever so slightly, his eyebrow still raised inquisitively.

"I don't know. It looked good when I saw it. I just don't have the appetite for it now." You shrug casually, but the irritation about the blonde's less-than-pleasant tone nags at you.

He looks at you, then at the dessert, then back at you. His expression is unreadable— his eyes offer no emotion to them whatsoever. Suddenly, you feel self-conscious at his glances- it's as if he's both analyzing and judging you in the few seconds that you two made eye contact. It also doesn't help that in the short span of your conversation, he has managed to show that he can be somewhat of a jerk.

"Do you want it or not?" You continue when he still hasn't spoken.

"I do, but you look like you're gonna cry again if I take it."

"Huh?"

The next thing he does baffles you— he takes out his hand from his hoodie's pocket and he hands you a handkerchief. As if on autopilot, you take the handkerchief he's offering but not without giving him a confused glance. Your mouth open and close comically, willing your brain to form words to voice out your confusion. Using your phone's screen as a mirror, you look at your face only to pale in an embarrassing realization that you look horrible. Your eyes are puffy, your nose is red, and your cheeks are tear-stricken.

No wonder the blonde gave you a handkerchief. You look like you really need it.

"Crap. I look awful." You curse under your breath as you quickly wipe the moistness on your cheeks with the sage green fabric, simultaneously feeling them redden in embarrassment.

"How do I-" You fold the handkerchief awkwardly once you've dried your cheeks, avoiding eye contact with its owner. "How do I return this to you?"

"Keep it." Came his clipped reply. If he's being sarcastic with that response, you're not quite sure.

You open your mouth to argue but the barista calls out from the counter just at the right time. "One medium latte for Kei."

Without so much as a word, the blonde turns on his heels and receives his order. You hear him mutter a curt "Thank you"' to the barista before he walks out of the café. A fleeting second glance is all he can spare you— no goodbyes or any parting pleasantries whatsoever. You blink stupidly at his tall figure as he opens the door to leave, debating to yourself whether to call after him or not. You are realizing just then that you haven't even thanked him for the handkerchief yet.

You stand up from your seat quickly, taking the plate of strawberry shortcake with you as you walk to the counter.

"Can I please have this to-go?"

You watch with a bit of impatience as the dessert is being put in a pink to-go box. Finally, when the barista hands it out to you, you practically sprint out of the café.

The street is dark aside from a couple of lamp posts and the headlights of a few passing cars. It takes you a couple of seconds before you spot a certain grey hoodie and a mop of blonde hair. He is almost out of your sight. You struggle to run after him but his pace is ridiculously long that by the time you're a few feet away from him, you're already gasping for much-needed air.

The pitter-patter of your Sneakers as you near him catches his attention. He stops from his tracks and turns around to face you.

The quizzical look on his face is enough— he doesn't have to say anything to get his message across. What the heck are you doing? - his eyes seem to ask. It's amazing how he can convey these things with little to no words.

"Here." You extend the box of dessert to him. He doesn't accept it, merely stare at you with a perfectly arched eyebrow. He seems to note the way you catch your breath and the thin sheet of sweat that has formed on your forehead, but decides not to comment about it.

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

"You wanted strawberry shortcake, right?"

"Yes, but why are you giving it to me?" There's a hint of suspicion in his tone.

"Well, I'm not gonna eat it. You want it and I don't, so it's yours now. Take it."

Despite establishing the fact that you indeed know him as Karasuno's middle blocker, you still can't shake the feeling that you know him from somewhere other than that. There's something familiar with the way he looks down at you, with his tone of voice, and his general knack for being rude and blunt. You can't quite put your finger on it. Just where have you met him before?

"Is this because I told you to keep my handkerchief and you somehow feel like you owe me?"

"A little bit, yeah." You mumble honestly.

"When people usually say "Keep it.", most of the time, they're not asking for anything in return. Sometimes, they just want to give a random stranger something to wipe their snot with to save said stranger from further embarrassment."

The offense you took from his sarcastic response has you holding a hand to your chest while your mouth gapes at him. "Hey! There was no snot— I wasn't... You're freaking unbelievable— Actually? You know what? Never mind."

"Are you gonna cry again?" There's amusement in his tone. His face is that of feigned concern but you're quick to note the small smirk tugging up the corner of his lips. Is he seriously enjoying this right now?

It takes every fiber in your body not to explode then and there. He is so infuriating, and deliberately so. It's as if he's relishing in agitating you even more.

"Just take the cake so we're even. I don't want to owe you anything." You thrust the box in his direction but yet again, he doesn't take it.

"I gave it to you freely but since you keep on insisting on "making it even", I don't think I can accept a single slice of strawberry shortcake as compensation. It would be unfair for me, don't you think?"

"And why would that be?"

"For one, "making it even" implies that you should give me something of similar value of the thing I gave you." How you wish you could wipe that smug look on his face. "A slice of cake is nowhere near the value of that handkerchief."

"Right, because your flimsy handkerchief is too good for my strawberry shortcake. It's probably woven in silk from silkworms who eat gold and poop out gold silk." You try to avoid sarcasm as an attempt to be a decent human being, but there are just some instances that a good old-fashioned sarcastic snap-back is very much needed. It just so happens that one of those instances is happening right now.

During the short duration that you've interacted with this boy, you have learned that he thrives on being a smartass. He has this look on his face— eyebrows raised and lips curved in a smirk— which tells you he's about to say something that would annoy the hell out of you.

However, as he opens his mouth to speak, your phone rang from your pants pocket.

The caller ID indicates that it's your mother that's calling. Upon further look at the screen, you also notice thirteen texts from her, asking where you are and urging you to go home.

"Hold that thought." You hold up a finger at the blonde and for one glorious second, you got to see him being the one who's irritated and quite offended this time.

The second you press answer on your phone, your Mom's shrill and panic-ridden voice rings from the other side so loud that it hurt your ear drum.

"Where are you?"

For the first time that night, you start being aware that, in fact, you don't know the answer to that question. You've been wandering around aimlessly around the neighborhood that you lost all sense of direction. You look around the dark street for any signs indicating your whereabouts but you failed to see anything. The insides of your stomach starts churning in panic. It also doesn't help that your Mom is feeding your growing anxiety with her incessant panicking from the other side of the phone.

"Tell me where you are. I'm coming to get you. Now."

"No! There's no need to. I'm already on my way home." Shit. You heard your own lie before you even realized you said it.

The lie seems to be believable enough for your Mom to emit a relieved sigh, though. "Alright, honey. Just be home soon, okay? I'm getting worried, and you have school in the morning. We'll talk tomorrow. For the meantime, just get home and rest."

You mutter a barely audibly "Okay, Mom." before you end the call. The urge to slap yourself for lying to your mother had the better of you— the sound of your palm hitting your forehead is loud and sharp. From your peripherals, you see Karasuno's middle blocker jolt a bit from the sudden (and outlandish) movement. You have almost forgotten that he's with you.

"Hey, uhm, what... street is this?" You ask your companion as you glance around your surroundings in another attempt to look for any indication of your whereabouts.

"You don't know?"

"Duh. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."

If he is any bit ticked off by your juvenile response, he chooses not to call you out on it. "How did you get in the cafe in the first place if you didn't know which street it's in?"

"I just saw it and went inside because I wanted coffee."

"Did you walk there?"

"Well, yeah."

The blonde studies your behavior for a moment, noting the way you crane your neck around to try to find any street signs and the way your brows furrow in frustration when you don't find any. His passive look slowly morphs into something akin to a scowl, but you don't see it right away. His eyebrows are creased in a knot and his lips that were previously smirking is now contorted in a sneer.

"You mean to tell me you're wandering around a neighborhood that's unfamiliar to you, at almost 10 o'clock in the evening, all on your own, without any means to get back home." The icy tone of his voice is what grabbed your attention. With slightly widened eyes, you turn to look up at him as he stares down at you. To say you are dumbfounded is an understatement. It's not even about the way he abrasively spewed his words at you or the way he gives you a coldly judging look— it's more about the fact that he has a point.

"How irresponsible can you get? Are you grossly naïve and innocent to think that nothing bad might happen to you if you're walking alone this time of night? That or are you just plain stupid?" With each word he lets out, you can feel yourself shrinking and yet feel your temper rising simultaneously. How dare he talk to you like that? Surely, there are kinder ways to get say it without him belittling you.

"Okay, fine, I get it! Stop being mean to me. We've only just met, you know." You don't mean to raise your voice like that but you just want him to shut up. It's bad enough that you're lost and can't get home without him throwing that fact on your face.

"Could you just..." You can't even look him in the eyes. "Could you just tell me where we are so I can go home?"

The blonde did tell you the name of street you are in, but not without scowling at your ignorance and irresponsibility. You are indeed familiar with the street but you have no idea how to get home from here. You don't usually come to this part of the neighborhood but that's not actually a valid excuse for your embarrassingly rusty sense of direction. Even though it's only a few minutes walk from your house, you are ashamed to admit that you can't remember how to get back.

Dejected, you give off a sigh, feeling a new surge of panic bubble up from the pit of your stomach again. A glance at your wristwatch has you almost cry in alarm. It's almost 10 PM, just like the blonde said.

"I suppose I could take a cab?" You're more muttering to yourself but he still hears you.

"Cabs are scarce around these parts in case you haven't noticed yet." He says coolly.

He's right yet again. Not once have you seen any cabs that pass by since you've been on this street. You may have to go to the main avenue to hail a ride— that notion could help you, except you don't know how to get to the main avenue.

"Was that your mother who called you earlier?" You hear the blonde speak again. "Why don't you just ask her to pick you up?"

"I can't." You mutter as your eyes look down your shoes— you don't want him to see the way your eyes start tearing up again.

"Better yet— I don't want to." You continue. "I went out of the house to get away from her. Don't ask why. It's a long story and I don't feel like sharing it with you."

You're not looking at him so you don't see the way his previously furrowed brows relax a bit. His piercing hazel eyes watch you intently and he is quick to notice how your own eyes become glassy with unshed tears.

"I'll walk you home."

This time, you look him in the eyes with surprise written all over your features. Did you hear him right?

"What?"

"It's almost 10 PM. Do you know what kind of delinquents prowl around this time of night? If I see you on tomorrow's news that you've been brutally bludgeoned to death by a serial killer, It'd be on my conscience." The way he said it has you feeling mixed emotions. He has good intentions but why did he have to ruin it by sprinkling his jerkness all over it?

"Yeah, well, if you're gonna be a jerk all the way,  then I don't want you accompanying me home." 

"Are you really in any position to be demanding now?" 

You have no other retorts left in you so the only thing you do is glare at him. Still, that glare of yours dissolves rather quickly. You are surprised to realize that even though this boy has been the single most annoying, rudest, and meanest human being you've yet encountered— you can't bring yourself to hate him based on the little interaction you've had with him. He gave you his handkerchief when he saw that you'd been crying— and albeit ungraciously, he turned down your strawberry shortcake which was supposed to be a sort-of payment. To top it all off, he's offering to walk you home— something he is not obligated to do, not even in the slightest. He could turn on his heels right now and leave you all alone, but he's choosing to stay.

Maybe he's not so bad after all.

You tell him where your house is located. He responds by saying that that's only four blocks from where you currently are, and asks sarcastically if you have short-term memory loss for you to forget the direction for somewhere that near.

The two of you walk in silence with you struggling to keep up with his pace. As you look around the various dark alleyways you passed, you feel a strong sense of relief and gratefulness that you have someone to walk you home. Everything is suspicious-looking in the dark. You wonder, for one brief and terrifying moment, if something terrible would have happened to you if you didn't meet the blonde and was forced to walk home alone.

"Why were you out so late?" It is you who breaks the silence for the first time after a couple of minutes of walking. "Don't you have a match to prepare for tomorrow?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"But you ordered a latte. Seems pretty counter-productive to me." You pointed, looking at the to-go cup he's holding.

"It's not for me. My older brother asked me to get it." 

"Was the strawberry shortcake supposed to be for your brother too?"

"No. Mine." His clipped answer is perfectly laced with the right amount of drawl and nonchalance as if to say yes, it was supposed to be mine but some annoying stranger got the last slice .

"I told you. It's yours if you want to have it." You roll your eyes and shake your head  in disbelief when he just gives you a pointed look. It's clear that he does want the cake but is too full of pride to admit it. The silence ensues again, but it's not an awkward one— you can even say that it's a comfortable kind of silence, which in itself is weird because he's a stranger and you're not supposed to be this comfortable with a stranger.

The blonde leads you to a semi-lit side street which you would never dare go into had you been alone. Obediently, you follow him despite your wariness of the sketchy-looking place. Under normal circumstances, alarm bells would be ringing inside your head if a stranger was taking you to an unfamiliar alleyway. But then, there's no urge of stranger-danger when you're with the blonde— something that you're quite surprised with because you're trusting him to lead you home when you don't even know his name.

His name.

All this time you've been with him, you haven't even asked him what his name is.

You didn't hear it when the barista called out his name for his order. It's also written on the cup he's holding but you can't read it in the dark. It could also not be his name that's written there as the latte is supposed to be for his brother.

"I just realized I don't know your name yet." You suddenly say. Your question seems to surprise the blonde but nevertheless, he opens his mouth to answer it.

"No, wait. I wanna guess." You stop him just as he opens his mouth to speak. "I hear it whenever I watch your games but I can't quite remember it."

You rack your brain for any memory of his name but comes up with nothing. Again, this just proves that Tobio has your undivided attention whenever he plays— you really can't care less for his other teammates. 

"Is it Takahashi? No? Takahiro? Tsurumaki? Tsukasa?" 

He gives you the subtlest of eye rolls. "Not even close. It's Tsukishima."

"Nice to meet you, Tsukishima. I'm Y/N." You introduce yourself for the first time that night. 

Tsukishima doesn't respond after that, not that you expect him to. He just gives you a nod, as if to say he has acknowledged that piece of fact but he isn't the slightest bit interested. For the nth time that night, there is silence once again. 

And like all the other times before, it is you who breaks the quietude once you see the familiar façade of your neighbor's houses.

"We're almost there." You announce. "My house is the sixth one on the left. Thank you for accompanying me. I really appreciate it."

You expect him to turn around and leave once you have confirmed that you're now near your destination. You have even thanked him so it would be his go signal to depart if he wants to. You then start walking away from him, thinking he'd be going the opposite direction now. However, you can hear his footsteps following you from behind. It is only when you are at your front gates do you stop, making him stop as well. 

The front door is open and you can see your Mom's figure sitting by the terrace, waiting for you. 

"This is my house." You turn to Tsukishima and flashes him a grateful grin. "I really can't thank you enough."

The blonde nods at you. It seems like he's about to say something more but decides the last minute not to. Instead, he clears his throat and says a rather pathetic good bye, as far as good byes go. "I'll be going now. Good night."

"Wait." He's about to walk away when you call out to him again.

"Take this." You offer him the boxed strawberry shortcake for the third time. "If not for the handkerchief, then at least take it as a token of gratitude for walking me home."

This time, unlike all the other three instances before, he finally accepts the pastry. He holds it on his right hand while his left holds the latte cup. If you had been focusing on his facial expressions that time, you would have noticed how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he struggled to find the right words to say to you. Tsukishima usually has something smart or clever to say under normal circumstances, but this is one of the occasions where he is deemed speechless.

"I'm gonna go inside now. Good luck on your match tomorrow." You say as you push open the gate that your mother left unlocked for you. "Good night, Tsukishima."

Tsukishima watches you walk to your front door after locking the gates. He stays long enough for him to see you look back over your shoulder and give him a small wave. It is only when you and your mother have entered the house did he start to walk away.

The latte he's holding is now lukewarm, which he figures his brother won't like. He brings the cup to his lips, letting the tepid liquid seep into his mouth— he will just have to re-order a hot cup for his brother on his way home. Tsukishima doesn't usually drink coffee. He mainly reserves the drink whenever he has to cram for schoolwork or if he's grinding a particularly hard video game level. For this reason, he finds that he's less tolerant of caffeine— at least, that's what he's telling himself. 

It's a matter of pride more than anything else that he blames his racing heart beat, clammy hands, and flushed skin on the coffee he's idly sipping, and not on the fact that the little time he spent with you tonight has him feeling things.

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