#maybe he's just trying to find a person to chat with and try and branch out a bit

[neiptune]

this town is fake but you're the real thing

cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets

Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.

An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.

“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.

“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.

“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.

Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.

“She met Motoya”.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.

With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.

“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.

“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.

“I talk—”

“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.

“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.

“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.

“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.

“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”

“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.

So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.

Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it. 

The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.

Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.

Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.

There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.

Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.

Lavenderhaze

-> Hi.

Lavenderhaze

-> How are you?

He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.

crysnoopy

-> hey. all good, wbu?

Lavenderhaze

-> Good, bored.

Lavenderhaze

-> Should we exchange nudes or something?

Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.

A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?

He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.

Unfinishedusernam

-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?

Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.

crysnoopy

-> I don’t shower.

A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s hot.

-> Why the username?

Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.

Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)

-> Lowkey thought you were an incel

This time he really does snort out half a laugh.

crysnoopy

-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fair. So… you do shower, right?

crysnoopy

-> I promise I do.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.

-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks

Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.

crysnoopy

-> likewise. wanna make it official?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first

Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.

He accepts it.

It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.

They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.

But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.

He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.

Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.

When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?

Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.

Unfinishedusernam

-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!

-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)

-> [IMG_65209]

Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.

crysnoopy

-> I’m at training.

-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?

He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.

He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.

Unfinishedusernam

-> It was nice! I love spending time with them

-> How’s training?

Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.

He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.

crysnoopy

-> [IMG_65209]

-> Almost done, very tired

He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.

“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.

“You okay?”.

“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.

“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.

“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.

“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.

“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.

“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.

Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.

“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.

“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.

“Sure we are!”.

“I’m serious, you ass—”

“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.

It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.

Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.

The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You have really nice hands

He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.

It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems… unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.

“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.

“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.

“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.

She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.

“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.

“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.

Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.

The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.

Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.

Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.

Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.

Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.

Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still at training?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.  

Unfinishedusernam

-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep

Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.

crysnoopy

-> Just got home

-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)

His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me

crysnoopy

-> No I don’t?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.

-> [IMG_98279]

A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.

crysnoopy

-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair

-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?

Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.

crysnoopy

-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers

When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Knew it. Flirt.

-> Can I ask you something?

crysnoopy

-> Ask away

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why are you on this app?

He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.

crysnoopy

-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know

He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Do you think you could open up to me?

Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.

crysnoopy

-> Maybe

-> I’d like that.

He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, he’s okay with simply letting you know.

Osaka ends up being extra motivating.

The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.

Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.

When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.

As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.

“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.

“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.

“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.

Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.

“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.

“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.

“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.

“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.

“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.

“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.

“I feel like… you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.

He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.

He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.

“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.

“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.

“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.

“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.

“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.

On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.

“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.

“Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.

“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.

“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.

“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.

“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.

“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.

“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.

“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?

“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.

“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.

“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.

“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.

“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.

“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.

“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.

Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.

“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.

I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.

Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.

His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.

It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.

miyatsumu brothers ❤️

Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.

He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Osaka!!!!

-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?

crysnoopy

-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon

Unfinishedusernam

-> Your friends are also athletes???

-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening

-> [IMG_62371]

Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.

crysnoopy

-> Looks like a perfect evening to me

Unfinishedusernam

-> I only walked 200 steps today.

crysnoopy

-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say

-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?

-> Stop surviving, start thriving?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner

He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?

Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Yeah?

crysnoopy

-> I feel that too

-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person

Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why do you think that?

crysnoopy

-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave

-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me

-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?

Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.

Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.

Unfinishedusernam

-> How did you meet your current friends?

He furrows his brows.

crysnoopy

-> Most of them I met in school

Unfinishedusernam

-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time

-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)

-> You can always work on what you want to improve

crysnoopy

-> You make it sound too easy

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes it really is tho

-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them

Unfinishedusernam

-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away

-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal

Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to

-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol

-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder

Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still there?

crysnoopy

-> I’m here

How could he not be?

crysnoopy

-> Thank you

Unfinishedusernam

-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)

Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.

crysnoopy

-> Mysteriously comforting

-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Nah

-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me

crysnoopy

-> That sucks for them

It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?

Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.

He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s sweet of you to say!

-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster

-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now

crysnoopy

-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you

Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.

Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?

Unfinishedusernam

-> This dinner fucking slaps btw

-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka

-> It’s called onigiri miya

Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.

Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”

“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.

“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.

“Really? Did she like it?”.

“Osamu”.

He chuckles lightly.

“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.

“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “… along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.

There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.

“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.

“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.

“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just…”.

“Put something together for her”, as you always do.

“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.

“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.

“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.

“Yeah?”.

“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.

“Tell her what?”.

“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.

Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.

“Samu”.

“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.

“I think I like her”.

“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.

Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.

Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much

-> Would you tell me if I was too much?

crysnoopy

-> What do you mean?

Unfinishedusernam

-> You know, if I was pestering you

crysnoopy

-> You’re not too much

-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)

You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.

And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I wish you were here

-> I’d probly just kiss you

Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.

He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.

crysnoopy

-> I want nothing more

-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?

It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.

As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.

Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.

You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.

crysnoopy

-> Killer headache town, population: me

crysnoopy

-> How are you feeling?

crysnoopy

-> Hey, everything ok?

crysnoopy

-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it

crysnoopy

-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.

-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me

crysnoopy

-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days

crysnoopy

-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.

He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?

Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.

The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.

But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.

It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)

Unfinishedusernam

-> Today was shit

-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working

Unfinishedusernam

-> I feel so slilly

-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?

Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.

And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.

“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.

The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.

“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.

“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.

He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.

When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.

Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.

He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.

Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.

He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.

Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.

“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.

“I’m trying”.

“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.

It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.

-> No worries, I’ll find the house.

The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.

“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.

Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.

“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.

“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”

“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.

“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.

“You… what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?

“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.

Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.

“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?”.

For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.

“Suna?”.

“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.

“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.

“What now?”.

“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.

“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.

“I kinda need to use it now”.

“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.

“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.

“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.

“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.

Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?

“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.

“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.

“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.

“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.

“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.

“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.

He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.

“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?

Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.

They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.

His neighbor (could it be…???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.

“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.

“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.

He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.

Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?

He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.

Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.

A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?

He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.

“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.

“None of your business. Lock the door”.

“Sure, sure, bye”.

“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.

You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.

Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.

As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.

Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.

What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.

You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.

“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.

“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to… hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.

You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.

“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.

“No, no…”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.

“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine… amusement?

“I need to tell you something”.

The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.

“Sure…?”.

“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.

It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.

“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.

It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.

“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.

“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one… I should be…”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.

“Please don’t cry”.

“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.

“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”

“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.

“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.

Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.

You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.

“Are you disappointed?”.

You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.

“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But… what now?”.

Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.

He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?

You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.

The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.

crysnoopy

-> Now we do this right.

[chocostrwberry]

Sentimaggedon!!

Sentimonster designs I came up with bc I was thinking about Argos’s debut in my AU! Bc I’m dumb and I haven’t thought too deep about him as a character to the story yet-

They were originally suppose to all be based on the seven deadly sins, especially Gasumptious (gluttony) and Elvy (envy). But I also wanted to branch into maybe Felix’s other hidden emotions, like his deep love for Kagami and his fear of being replaced by Adrien (Bride and Athazagora).

Argos becomes an official enemy when Dragonbug tells him they need to be destroyed. He defends them, saying they’re just “infants” and can learn how to behave properly with time. But a frustrated and exhausted Dragonbug she tells him they aren’t like humans and are created for one purpose: to serve and destroy. This hits home with Argos, and he develops a fear and hatred for Ladybug and swears his loyalty to Madame Morphisa afterwards in order to take her down and prove just how monstrous he can be.

I’m still kinda trying to find a way to make this concept work in my au. He promised to serve her in exchange for the peacock miraculous, and she wants him to use it to take Ladybug’s miraculous. In a novice attempt, he might have just starting creating multiple sentimonsters that he thought were harmless enough (something she did NOT expect), but they quickly spiraled out of control. It’s much easier to make sentimonsters based on others emotions, because you can predict which one you will create it off of. But instead, he chose his own, which makes it more difficult to tell how the sentimonster will act. I think it would show the aspect that these creatures do have a mind of their own, compared to previous Mayura sentimonsters who were easily controlled by their akumas!!

Red Moon

Red Moon is obviously already canon, but her power is instead hypnosis. If you get caught in her light, you stop whatever you are doing to stare at her. The streets of Paris become like a statue exhibit: countless of unlucky citizens are bathing in her glow, staring at the beauty of the red moon.

Gasumptious

As he devours, Gasumptious grows bigger and bigger. He’ll eat anything, so beware! After finishing most of the city, Gasumptious sits atop the Eiffel Tower and gnaws on its metal posts.

Elvy

Elvy lives in the sewers. She can control water and uses it to drain you of happy memories, which she keeps in floating green orbs and guards for herself.

It’s so silly to me how the manifestation of Felix’s jealousy of Adrien is fought and defeated by Chat Noir, who is Adrien ehehehheeh.

She also sounds like a Pokémon!! Probably like a Lapras, or the one that trills really pretty

Athazagora

A timid creature, Athazagora took over the catacombs, and hides in the shadows. You can hear the creaking and rattling of its wooden limbs in the dark as it stalk you. If you can’t escape, it envelops you in its cloak of darkness, never to be seen again.

Bride

The supposed advisor of Argos. She never leaves his side, and is always whispering something in his ear. To protect Argos, she showcases her ability to turn her arm into a long spear/sword, incredible strength and mobility, and that her body is made of an indestructible crystal.

Plus, he can make multiple sentimonsters bc he’s a sentihuman himself (Other people can’t. You can only make one, kind of like how the Butterfly miraculous can only Akumatize one person at a time, unless they share an object. Current excuse I’m going with that makes semi-sense HEHEHE) . So Lila totally wants to use that to her own advantage!

Ofc he fails, but she’s impressed with his resolve (and the lengths he was willing to go, albeit unintentionally), especially after sharing her goal of destroying Ladybug. Lila was feeling the effects of unification and now has a willing minion to do her bidding whenever she pleases.

If I decide to go with this plot, Lila has to end up forgetting Felix because of the curse. But she doesn’t care: all she really needs is Argos. I might need to retcon her revenge against Felix because of this but idm! It wasn’t very important to the plot anyways!

I was considering having Dragonbug in this episode, since she could use Perfection to snipe Red Moon out of the sky! The lucky charm would be like a wand that creates a sticky translucent web to keep the sentimonsters secure so they can go find their amoks.

And a sentimonster I never ended up including, Ava. I just didn’t have a reason to put her in there but I liked the yin and yang style of her design!!

[nathaslosthershit]

The Café Boy (LN4)

Summary: The move to Monaco for your new job wasn't going to be easy, even if you had your best friend by your side, but maybe the cute boy you met in a café can turn your luck around.

Moving to Monaco was certainly not on your bucket list. But getting hired as a Director of Brand Communications with an impressive salary, called for the move. Luckily, being best friends with an influencer with far too much money than she was able to spend meant that Annie was happy to move to another country to rent together. You were forever grateful for her, even though it wasn’t like you were forcibly dragging her to the tundra, instead you were offering to rent together in one of the most lustrous countries in the world, but you still felt like you had dragged her there. 

The move had been different for both of you. Annie, being the extrovert with a large following, made friends as easy as breathing, while you just focused your energy on your new job. You didn’t really feel the need to branch out when you had Annie. 

“This is ridiculous! You can’t keep spending your days working or moving furniture around for the 1,000th time.” Annie huffs when she enters the apartment and sees you on your computer working, just as you were when she left you 5 hours ago.

“It's hard trying to acclimate into this new job, plus I came at a busy time because they are trying to sponsor another company. I have been emailing back and forth with them to get a good idea if this is the right fit but the CEO has been so flaky that it's been hard to get through. Plus we have rearranged meeting dates like 6 times. It's ridiculous.” You rambled as you rubbed your eyes, realizing in that moment just how tired you are. 

“Nope, we aren’t doing this. I get that this is mostly remote so your hours work differently and you are trying to find your footing but I am not allowing you to work yourself to death. You are coming out with me and we are going to be social.”

“Annie, please-”

“No! I love you so much and think you are the most wonderful person in the world and that anyone would be lucky to be around so I won’t allow you to self sabotage because you don’t think the same about yourself. Come on, pack it up.” Annie commands.

Giving in, she forced you to shower and get dressed, two things you were certainly in need of doing. Not telling you where you two were going, she dragged you out of the house. Not that you would know anyway, in the time you had been here you hadn’t gone out much. 

Turns out, while she was forcing you out of the comfort of your own home, Annie knew and loved you enough to drag you to a sweet little café where the two of you could drink and chat instead of torturing you with activities that were more her speed. Seeing as the café was pretty full, you both had no choice but to snag the four person table that hadn’t even been cleared yet in order to get seating. Having two extra seats you didn’t need made you nervous, knowing that anyone could sit down next to you both at any time, but Annie paid no mind. You both had been there for 45 minutes, giggling and catching up, mostly talking about all the exciting things Annie has been doing while you have been working. But it didn’t make you feel bad to know she was meeting all these new people and going out to have fun because you knew the minute you asked her to hang out with you, or even invite you out, she would be happy to oblige. It wasn’t until you both were interrupted by a man clearing his throat that you stopped talking.

“Mind if we sit down? We won’t be here long, just wanted to grab a cup of coffee.” A man with curly brown hair said, gesturing to him and his friend. 

God, was he attractive, like stupidly attractive.

Which made it all the worse when you just starred, mouthing words but incapable of making sound come out.

Seeing you having a hard time, Annie came to your rescue, but not without shooting you a look that said ‘we are going to talk about this later’. 

“Of course! We are almost done anyway.”

“No need to rush out, we’d be happy to share in the meantime.” he replied to Annie, but he wasn’t looking at her, instead looking you up and down. Was he sizing you up or admiring?

The pair of boys made polite conversation with Annie, who was always happy and more than able to make friends with anyone. The man who sat down next to you tried to start conversations with you, god he really tried, but you were too nervous to say more than a few words, no matter how many times Annie kicked you under the table. 

After they grabbed their to-go cups, Annie, who had noticed the blush that had decorated your face since the moment they came up to you, invited them to sit with you guys for a while.

This time you kicked her under the table.

You loved her, you really did, but she loved to meddle. Even though it was never with malicious intent, she had explained that it just ‘pained her to see someone as wonderful and amazing as you remain a wallflower��. How could you get mad at her for that?

Right now, you were mad at her for that. 

“Well, you know my best friend over here is the whole reason we moved.” Annie said, in the middle of a conversation you hadn’t been listening to. “Got a fancy new job as a brand director or something… I always forget what it's called.” She says as she hits your arm. She knew what your job was, she loved to brag about how amazingly professional you were to her amazingly unprofessional influencer friends. She was trying to get you involved in the conversation. “Uh- director of brand communications.” You quickly said. All three people waited for you to say more, but you didn’t bite. 

“Ah, well maybe you should come work for my team, we could use uh… brand communicating.” The boy next to you said, his friend kicking him under the table. Even you could tell it was a poor excuse for flirting. 

“And what team do you work fo-” Annie began to ask, interrupted by a customer bumping into your table, knocking over the coffee the cute guy next to you had in front of him. 

It spilt all over his lap. 

You felt bad as you quickly moved away with a gasp, but it was really hot. You could tell it was worse than the few droplets you felt when the curly haired brunette let out a pained groan. 

“Fuck, mate. Let's get you to the bathroom,” His friend said as the two quickly excused themselves. 

Even though you hadn’t spoken much, you were bummed they had to leave, even more so when Annie said you two should head out, having stayed there way longer than planned. 

Not knowing what had come over you, you grabbed a pen from your bag and quickly scribbled your name onto the now empty cup. He probably wouldn’t see it before he threw it out, or maybe he would see and not want to call. But hey, you had come there to try new things, so you might as well try those new things.

Annie waited by the entrance with a knowing smile, excitedly babbling how she was so proud of you for doing such a thing. 

You remained pessimistic over your chances, but you wouldn’t dampen your friend’s mood. 

He didn’t call or text. 

Even your pessimism wasn’t enough to save you from embarrassment, or hurt. Maybe he wasn’t flirting? Maybe he was just being nice? Or maybe he was an asshole who got off on playing with girls’ feelings. Maybe he kept the cup as a trophy so he and his friends could laugh at it and talk about how much of an idiot you were-

“Hey, I can practically hear all the negative thoughts running through that mind of yours.” Annie said, poking your forehead. “Come on, this is a fun and exciting day and we aren’t going to let one idiot man ruin it.”

“Annie, this is for work. I am working. You are here as my plus one, so by proxy you are also working.” You said, trying to stop her skipping down the paddock. 

It technically was work but also wasn’t. Your company had been in the talks with Mclaren for a while now and the deal was practically complete. All that was needed today was for you to ‘supervise race day environment’ to make sure it was ‘up to company standards’, which was just a load of shit they used to give themselves more time to look at data. By data, you mean that if Mclaren does well today and looks promising to have a good season thus making your company a ton of money, then the deal is on. If not, it would be a cool experience to see how the teams work behind the scenes. 

Too bad the sting of rejection was ruining it for you. 

Being in the garage though, the excitement as the engineers, strategists, mechanics, all got ready for the main event of the weekend, got your mind off the boy in the café for a while, till he walked right past you.

Not really past you, more like into you. 

Neither of you recognized the other at first, too busy balancing yourselves and apologizing to the other. Once your eyes met the same ones that had you in a bad mood for the past week, you turned around and walked as far from him as possible, ignoring the weird stares as he yelled for you to come back. 

At least Annie was amused by it. She practically doubled over with laughter.

“This is such a rom-com moment! Gosh, I am honestly kind of jealous.”

“I am not! It's motifying, Ann.” You say, hitting her on the arm as she continues to giggle. “Would it be wrong if I told my team that the ‘vibes in the garage were bad and there was no way they were going to have a good season’ regardless of results today?”

“Uh yeah, that's psychotic and way too over the top.”

“...fine, I'll just pray that they have the worst race results possible.” 

They didn’t have the worst race results possible. Not even close.

The Australian driver, Oscar Piastri, had come in third. You thought that had been a good place, but were surprised when the team was slightly disappointed, thinking they'd do better. Maybe they really were in for a good year if they were aiming as high as possible. 

Café asshole, also known as Lando Norris, came in second. 

You were trying to get out as soon as you could, thinking luck would be on your side and he'd be too busy to run into you again, or reject you again.

You were wrong.

The moment Annie saw him, standing by himself as he drank from his water bottle, cleaning the champagne from his face, she grabbed you and marched right up to him. You didn’t speak as she congratulated him, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes staring into you. 

“Fuck, its my sister. I have to take this, one second!” Annie said as she ran off.

You and Lando stood in silence watching her fake the phone call.

“Her phone didn’t ring,” He said.

“She doesn’t even have a sister,” you answered. This caused the two of you to laugh, luckily helping to ease the tension. 

“I um- I am actually glad you are here. I mean, what are the chances?” Lando said. 

He looked genuinely happy, like he hadn’t just rejected you.

As you remained silent, he began to get more nervous. 

“I just- I was upset to see the two of you gone after Max and I left the bathroom. I had been telling Max how I was going to get your number before the coffee spilt on me, but he said you didn’t seem interested. That became more clear when we saw you had left.”

Confused and a little scared of where he was going with this, you continued your silence. Was this some cruel joke?

“But you are here, and I was thinking that you know, this is my second chance. I know I rejected your best friend, and that is why you didn’t want to talk to me, but I started to really like you that day, and was hoping that I could get your number?” 

“What the fuck?” you said, not the best of responses, and certainly not a response Lando had ever gotten to asking a girl for her number. “What do you- what do you mean you rejected Annie?” 

“She… left her number on my cup. I am flattered, she seems like a great girl, but she isn’t really my type…” Realizing the entire miscommunication here, you shoved him, harder than you had intended. You would have felt bad if the ridiculousness of the situation hadn’t made you downright delirious, laughing hard as Lando stared at you in shock.

You tried to calm down, he must have thought you insane, but he started to laugh too even if he didn’t know what you were laughing at, your smile infectious to the Mclaren driver. 

“Lando, it was my number.” You said.

Now it was his turn to stare in confusion.

“What?” was all he replied.

“It was my number.” How much clearer could you get? 

“But- Max had said that you- but you didn't even- what?” He repeated. Then he rubbed his eyes in frustration, letting out a groan. “Max got in my fucking head about it and convinced me that you had no interest and I believed him against my better judgment. Fuck, I’m sorry. I wish I had just listened to myself instead of that idiot.” Even though he was mad, he too began to laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing was.

“Is it too late to get your number now?” He asked with more confidence than the first time.

“Fine, but you promise not to throw it out this time?” You teased.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, I’m not letting you go this time.” 

And you knew he meant it.  

[mutable-manifestation]

Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 3

Part 1 & 2

***

The lab is empty when they get to Fenton Works, his parents busy off helping the JLD wherever it was they were working from.

The journey the rest of the way to the Far Frozen passes relatively quickly under the weight of discussing how to reverse engineer the sarcophagus of forever sleep to make Naptime Box 2: Vlad Edition.

Could they probably just beat him up with the right plan and aid? Sure. But then they risk having to play royal hot potato (Danny doesn't want it and he doubts most of the allies he has would want the extra responsibility. Assuming there are responsibilities - Danny wouldn't know since there hasn't been a king, for all intents and purposes, since well before he became a halfa so who knows what the position even means in the context of the Zone).

Plus it would be way more satisfying to shove him in a box. Vlad gets a nice long nap and Danny gets to live the rest of his half-life without worrying about his Dad getting stabbed or something if Vlad starts feeling impatient.

It would also give Danny plenty of time to find some way to buy the Packers - not because he wants them, just because it would be really funny if Vlad eventually woke up to find that the only thing he wanted other than Maddie was now also very permanently out of reach.

The city of Green Bay could fold eventually, after all. But Danny? Danny would never yield, just to spite him, and Vlad would know that.

He probably won't actually do it, seeing as a) expensive and b) probably complicated.

But it would be really funny.

Their discussion on the ethics of using the Fenton Stockades as the base for the Box cut off as they land.

Without the distraction of their chat the adrenaline of panic comes rushing back, and he transforms as he steps out of the Speeder, nyooming to hover in front of Frostbite so quickly that the entire welcoming party - Frostbite somehow manages to have one arranged every time he drops by, and Danny is usually willing to at least try and indulge them since it seems to make them happy - jolts in surprise.

"Greetings!" Frostbite smiles wide, arms open in a grand welcoming, the only hint of lingering surprise the trails of slightly puffed up fur up his arms and the sides of his neck that has already mostly smoothed itself back out. "The Far Frozen welcomes the Great One and friends-"

"Hey Frostbite sorry for being abrupt but I'm kind of freaking out and you seemed like the best person - uh, ghost to go to because you always seem to know lots of things and I kind of need to know what's going on as soon as possible just in case it's a worst case scenario because the Justice League came to talk to my parents about some papers and I probably haven't mentioned them to you before because they're awful and I thought my parents made them but surprise I was wrong! Which is good! Except the League was mostly worried about them maybe causing the new ghost king to war with the human realm because apparently there's a supernatural branch of the Justice League and they think there's a new Ghost KingTM as in the Ghost King after Pariah Dark and I'm kind of freaking out because if there is a new ghost king there's actually a chance it's Vlad and oh ancients please tell me it's not Vlad or that the League heard wrong please."

Sam and Tucker had caught up by then, coming to stand on either side of him as Frostbite blinked.

"You are...asking me the identity of the current High King?" He asks, face scrunched in a bewildered expression.

"Oh my gosh Batman was right!?" He floats a bit higher at the news. "Please just tell me it's not Vlad! Uh, Plasmius."

"Plasmius?" Frostbite asks, eyebrows crawling higher. "Certainly not! What in the realms - do you truly not know?"

"Oh thank goodness," Danny sighs, sinking back to his usual level. "Not Vlad, okay, one less disastrous possibility. And whoever it is probably already knows they're the king and nothing bad has happened yet so it's probably fine, right?"

He looks back to meet Frostbite's eyes.

"Wait, nothing bad has happened yet, right? Like, is everything okay? I know Pariah caused you guys a lot of grief before; the new guy 's not going around causing trouble for you and you just haven't told me because you're worried about being a bother, right?" He frets, eyes flicking about, searching for fresh injuries on the various members of the welcoming party.

"...No, Great One," Frostbite answers, blinking away the surprised expression to be replaced by something soft. "Though I, and all the Far Frozen, are honored by your concern. While Pariah Dark is no longer the High King of the Infinite Realms, I can assure you, with utmost certainty, that you have nothing to fear from his successor. But I believe we have much more to discuss. Come, let us find somewhere more comfortable to talk - and get your human friends out of the cold."

***

It didn't take them long to reach a sitting room, and soon enough they were all settled into the enormous, fuzzy chairs in one of the warmer rooms available, Danny and Frostbite each with a cup of shaved ice tea while Sam and Tucker were offered beverages warm enough to steam in deference to their need for warmth.

Once everyone had taken a sip - or bite - Danny launched back into his questioning.

"So did Dark have a kid hidden away somewhere or did some kind of council finally decide on his replacement? Actually can ghosts even have - wait right Box Lunch, forgot about that on purpose but never mind. Or is there some fourth option that isn't those or trial by combat that we didn't think of?"

"Before I answer that, Great One, may I ask why you have already discounted trial by combat?" He returns curiously.

"Because if it was trial by combat it would be Vlad - er, Plasmius - and you already said it isn't him."

"Or it could be you," Tucker ribs, waggling his fingers at him.

"We already talked about why it couldn't be me, Tuck," Danny huffs, rolling his eyes and taking another bite of his... smoothie?

"Oh? And why do you think it would be Plasmius?" Frostbite asks.

"Because! I may have fought Pariah Dark, and sure I put him back in the sarcophagus, but I was running on fumes by that point, and he was still slamming around in there! Vlad, as much as I hate to admit it, is the one that turned the key and made sure he stayed locked away. It took almost everything I had to keep him pinned long enough. If...if he'd been even a few seconds later I probably would've died the rest of the way before he even had the time to break out a second time."

"But had you not put him there, no key would have mattered," Frostbite begins quietly. "Plasmius was no match for Pariah Dark; he was defeated in an instant the first time they clashed."

"Well, yeah, but so was I," he protests, not liking the direction the conversation is beginning to take.

"And yet, you alone went to face him a second time. You alone stood against the King of All Ghosts while your armies clashed."

"Our-!? I didn't have- you mean the ghosts that came to help me???" Danny sputtered, incredulous. "They weren't an army they were just-"

He pauses, searching for words that would not come.

"They were just a large group of ghosts who sided with you, who aided you in combat and kept the multitudes distracted while you went to face their leader alone. However you thought of them at the time, whatever they were to you up till then or are to you now, after, in that moment they were your army."

"Danny's totally the ghost king, isn't he?" Sam drawls after the brief silence that follows.

"Indeed," Frostbite answers her, but he looks Danny in the eyes as he does so. "You are the savior of the Ghost Zone, Pariah's Bane. And you are the High King of the Infinite Realms."

"I cheated!" Danny blurts out, shooting up to float above his chair.

"Cheated?" Frostbite's lips twitch as he fights down a smile.

"I had the Fenton Ecto-Skeleton! That's totally cheating! Don't combat trials have to be honorable or something?!" He begs.

Frostbite chuckles.

"I apologize, Great One, but I am afraid there is no such thing as an honorable war," he says, expression briefly turning solemn. "And even if it were, just as you had your "Ecto-Skeleton," did not Pariah have his ring and crown?

You issued a challenge and he answered, your armies clashed while the two of you stood against each other and each other alone; you alone put him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, and you alone held it shut long enough for Plasmius to turn the key.”

Danny drifts back down to his seat as Frostbite speaks, then continues slouching further with every word.

“I am given to understand that Plasmius likes to think of others as pawns on his own personal chessboard,” he says, “But at the time he was but another ghost, come to fight Pariah's army on your behalf - as a member of your army. A pawn, to paraphrase his own words, that you used to topple a king - not through any intentional manipulation, but through the sheer magnetic charisma of your willingness to stand against monsters like Pariah Dark and of your ability to do so. The confidence to stand alongside you that such strength inspires. 

He would not have approached if he did not believe you could win - would not risk endangering himself so. At best, you could consider him a referee, calling the match to a close once it was decisively in your favor.

Plasmius may think of existence as a game with himself as the only player, and he may have been acting in his own self-interest overall, but by every measure, in this instance, he was undeniably your piece.

The Zone itself acknowledges your right to rule by the way the crown of fire sits where you left it, unmoving on the floor of Pariah's keep until the day you finally choose to wear it, no matter how many hands may try to move it."

Frostbite's words are slow and measured, but as undeniable as the creeping of a glacier. And by the time they cease, Danny has sunk so far as to end up an undignified heap on the floor before his chair.

The trio remains silent as they absorb his words.

Minutes pass before Danny finally speaks.

"If the crown can't be taken, then how did I get it from Pariah?" He questions, a final hope that Frostbite may be mistaken.

"It will only remain unmoved until you first put it on. After that, it will be up to you whether it stays safe on your head."

Danny groans his despair, final bit of hope shattered.

"I must apologize again, Great One," he says solemnly. "Had I known you were unaware of your station, I would have informed you sooner."

He frowns heavily, looking into the distance thoughtfully.

"The Observants should have informed you long before now."

"Well, that explains it. The Observants hate Danny's guts," Tucker says.

"To neglect their duties for such a reason...," He trails off, his glower highlighting the inhuman nature of his visage. 

The trio fidget.

Danny coughs after a few seconds of tense silence.

“Uh, speaking of duties,” he begins, relaxing as Frostbite’s expression smooths back into something kind and polite as he listens, “What exactly does the Ghost King even do? Like. Pariah was locked away for… a long time? I guess. So does the Zone even need a King? Can’t I just, like, resign?”

“I suppose it might seem that way from a younger ghost’s perspective - Pariah has been locked away for millenia, after all, and the Zone is still in one piece.” 

Frostbite pauses, leaning back in his seat and taking another bite of his drink. 

“However. What you must understand, Great One, is that the problems caused by the absence of a king in the Infinite Realms are not the whirlwind that such a thing would be in the living realm - social order is affected, but the speed of bureaucracy is slower by orders of magnitude in the Realms, and there is not the same level of inter-reliance that the living tend to require - but rather, they are winds and waters sliding against a rock, chipping away at it bit by bit until it is either worn smooth… or the whole structure collapses under its own weight.”

“How does not having a king cause dimensional collapse!?” Tucker shrieks, clutching his cup like a lifeline.

“How long do we have before it collapses?” Sam asks urgently not a second later.

“Oh shit, how long do we have before it collapses???” he echoes, hunching over his cup enough that the steam adds a layer of fog to his glasses.

Danny sits bolt upright, whipping wide eyes away from his friends to join them in staring at Frostbite.

“Total collapse would take millenia more to truly begin,” he placates before taking a more grave expression. “This does not mean that there will not be issues before that point, however; the symptoms of the High King’s absence have begun to show this past millennium. But rest assured, there is time enough to heal the wounds that have been wrought. The only permanent damage would be the collapse itself, and that, as I said, is millenia away.”

“Is… is that why you never mentioned it to me before?” Danny asks, dropping back to the ground in relief. “Because it’s not urgent and you figured I’d just…get to it eventually? Actually, why did you think I knew if you knew that the crown was still in Pariah’s Keep?”

“It is the duty of the Observants to observe, but also, as you have experienced, to oversee - the timeline, trials, the general functioning of the zone. Without a king to report to, much of their ability to act is crippled, of course - their ability to interfere directly with the timeline has always been severely restricted, their options for sentencing are severely reduced, and there are some things the Realms require that only the High King can provide - but one duty remains unaffected: overseeing the ascension of new kings. 

Coronations have taken many forms in the past, from a quick swap in the battlefield to a formal ceremony to a celebration that lasted a decade. Given the dark era we are, at last, able to put behind us and the non-urgent nature of even the most severe problems that the Realms are currently affected by, I had assumed that the large delay was in preparation for that last form - the lead-up to a grand celebration.”

“Except instead it’s just them being petty,” Sam notes, sitting back up from her own relieved slouch. 

Danny groans, leaving his tea to float and covering his face with his hands.

“Why couldn’t it have just been as easy as shoving Vlad in a box,” he whines.

“I mean, we still can?” Tucker offers, prompting Sam to smack him over the head before pausing consideringly.

“OW!”

“He might be right, actually,” she says, ignoring his exclamation. “Given Vortex’s trial and sentencing, there’s clearly some kind of legal system in the Zone that isn’t just Walker on a power trip. No doubt he’s broken some kind of Actual Realms Law - I’d be surprised if breaking Pariah out like he did wasn’t some form of highly illegal - so you could probably send him to actual Ghost Jail. It’s certainly where he belongs, given all the….”

She makes a vague gesture with her hand in lieu of words.

“That doesn’t resolve the problem of I Don’t Wanna Be A King!” Danny exclaims, sitting back and throwing his hands in the air.

Then he turns to Frostbite, eyes pleading. 

“Can’t you be king?” he asks. 

Frostbite opens his mouth to reply, but Danny steamrolls over him.

“It makes sense! You already know how to lead people! And your people love you! You already know about all the king stuff too! You’ve beaten me in spars before! We’d just have to go to the keep, I put on the crown, you beat me, and problem solved!”

Frostbite’s smile is a mix of amused and pitying.

“I have only ever beaten you in training spars, Great One, and you and I both know that is largely because they were focused on improving your skill with ice and ice alone. Even if I could defeat you in a true all-out fight as you are, I believe you underestimate the boost granted by the crown of fire.”

“I can just put it on then take it off again before we fight! And we can stick to ice!”

“I’m afraid it is not so simple,” he shakes his head. “If you do not give it your all, the crown - the Realms - will not recognize the transition. The only way to “throw the match” successfully would require your opponent to fully End you: to crush your core and snuff your spirit from the very fabric of existence. I am unwilling to do such a thing, and I sincerely hope you would not ask it of me - or, indeed, of anyone.”

Danny paled enough that he nearly matched his human form in skin tone.

“Right. Let’s… let’s not do that, actually.”

“On the bright side, you can probably weasel ruling tips out of Aquaman in exchange for not declaring war on the Living Realm!” Tucker chirps, aiming to cheer him up.

“I’m not going to threaten the Justice League!” he yelps, scandalized.

“But you probably won’t have to threaten them,” Sam chimes in. “They’re already trying to summon you, you already know their goal is to avoid a war. As long as you don’t ask for anything unreasonable, they should be inclined to give you what you want in exchange for peace.”

“Once you offer peace, they will be invested in your successful rule of their own volition as a means of perpetuating said peace,” Frostbite corrects. “If you would like to set preconditions to an accord you should make them things that will not readily be given as a result of said accord. But before we discuss further, perhaps you can fill me in on why war was a concern in the first place? I believe you mentioned something about papers?”

[upon-a-starry-night]

While We Dream Pt.10

Kylo Ren x Fem! Reader

Star Wars Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: As Kylo sleeps he finds himself mysteriously transported to your modern world, while you sleep you find yourself following alongside Kylo as he goes about his duties as “supreme leader?” who even was this guy? And why does he keep talking about ‘The Force?'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stare into Kylo Ren’s eyes for a long time. He keeps his expressions neutral, and you don’t know if it’s to help you or because he genuinely doesn’t feel the need to show concern. Probably the latter. It’s strangely grounding sitting there looking at him. Maybe because it reminded you that there was at least one person who could see you. Someone who knew you were there— knew you were real. 

Maybe it’s some freaky alien magic.

You count the freckles on his face, desperately trying to ignore the fact that you can’t do the other 3 things you can feel, taste, and smell as part of your calming method. Though you can still hear, he doesn’t speak. No comfort but no insults either. You’d count it as progress. 

You don’t know what Kylo sees, but after a few minutes of what felt like hours staring into his eyes, he stands, apparently deeming you fine. Or at least better than before. And as much as you hate to admit it, he’s right. Your hands are less shaky, the electricity is back to its low familiar hum, and your heart rate feels like it’s at a healthy 75 bpm. 

You look around you to see if anyone noticed Kylo crouched down talking to a ghost, but no one is around. The hallway that was so busy when you were walking is now empty, so empty and quiet it feels almost abandoned. What happened to all the people that were passing by?

When you look back up at Kylo, his mask is back on, and he’s looking down another branch of the hallway. It strikes you then, that Kylo had been walking somewhere very deliberately before your little panic attack. You were probably making him late. 

Forcing yourself to stand on wobbly legs, you manage to right yourself despite feeling like a newborn deer. A black mask glances back in your direction, and you feel a little disheartened. Maybe your panic attack had a little to do with the fact that the one person who could see you covered his eyes. 

His focus on you lasts only a few beats, and then he’s walking down the hallway he glanced at, you stumbling quietly behind.

The two of you arrive at a meeting room, this one much larger than the one he stopped you in for a little chit-chat about stalking. Well, not exactly stalking, but close enough. It’s empty, and you’re a little worried he’s going to reprimand you about your emotions or something, but instead he just sits at the head of the long table, silently observing you once more.

It reminds you of the last time you met. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, so you focus on something else instead;

The meeting room is a long rectangular shape, with the door on one end and five rhombus-shaped windows on the other. Kylo is sitting at the head of the table closest to the windows, at the end of a long, sleek, black rectangular slab of a table. There’s some sort of fixture or device in the middle of the table, but you have no chance at guessing what it does. There are at least eight chairs seated, though there’s room for plenty more. Guess whoever this meeting was with was for higher-ups only.

Though the room is interesting, you’re ten times more fascinated by the view from the window, walking over to it and hovering your hand in front of the glass. On the other side of this windowpane were thousands upon thousands of stars against an endless black backdrop. Though nearly everything in this room was black, nothing could rival the beauty of pure space. If you were lucky, maybe a planet would pass by. The thought alone fills you with excitement.

“Troopers.” You flinch at the sudden deep voice that interrupts your fascination. Turning to see him still sitting but facing you. You wrack your mind for any ideas of what he means, but you come up blank.

“What?”

“They’re called Stormtroopers.” You can practically feel the distaste rolling off of him. “Does your planet not have any military?”

So the men in white—stormtroopers—were military? That explains the armor, you suppose, but what kind of question was that? 

“Why do you ask? Are you planning on invading it?” He’s silent for a beat, and you grow a little anxious. Oh shit, was he?

“Is that one of your…twenty questions?” It takes a few seconds for your brain to catch up because, oh my god, was that another joke? You can’t help but smile a little.

“Is that one of yours?” you shoot back. Two can play at this game. If he thinks you’ll give up being curious just because he’s being resistant, he’s wrong. You’ll pry the answers out of him if you have to. He owed you that much. 

You can’t see his face, but you’d like to imagine he’s smirking, maybe even a little pleased at your quick comeback. He holds your gaze in what’s—for the first time—a comfortable silence before he changes the subject. You wouldn’t say you won, but, well, you kind of feel like you did.

“Your planet isn’t in this galaxy,” wait, what? “And from what I've seen of your technology and your…companions—” Shoot, he was definitely talking about the pugs. “It’s not worth seizing.” 

Really, you should feel relieved at this news, but the first thing that comes to mind is, ‘Hey! What the hell?’

“Your loss. Earth is great.” What were you even saying right now? “We may not be as advanced, but there are people working day and night to better our planet. And people who spend their whole lives pursuing their dreams and the things they love. And some people love their dogs more than they love their kids, so you’re lucky they can’t hear you; otherwise, we’d have an intergalactic war on our hands.” 

Okay, so maybe you were a little offended that your planet wasn’t worth invading to him. 

“And there’s more than just dogs too; there are cats.” You think back to your little tabby, Toast, what you wouldn’t do to be petting him right now. Kylo tilts his head at you. Of all the things you said in your rant, he tilts his head at cats? Really? Well, you can’t blame him.

“...cats?” Oh, right. Alien. 

“Yes, cats. You know the little ball of fur that tried to eliminate your feet in my kitchen?” Maybe not the best reference to go off of, but you don’t have your phone on you to show him.

“That was not a Loth-cat.” 

You blink. Some kind of air conditioning system kicks on in the background.

“Sorry, what?” It’s all you can think to say because not only does he apparently know what cats are, but he’s saying that yours does not qualify as one. Which—fair, sometimes he seemed more kangaroo-rabbit than cat, but still. How does he know what a cat is—or a loth-cat, as he called it?

He turns back to the table and taps on it; a keyboard blinks to life, hovering just above the surface. You abandon your view of the stars momentarily to get a closer look. Was that… an intractable hologram? Holo-board? Whatever.

He types into it and then swipes, and the device in the middle of the table crackles to life, a hologram shoots up, and you gasp. The teal color illuminates the room, and you resist the urge to walk through the table to get closer to it. 

The creature cast from the hologram is small and fluffy, yes, but that's about where the comparison to a cat ends. It’s got a smooshed face that looks like a mix between a pug and a monkey, talon-like feet, and two triangles protruding so straight up out of its head they look more like cones than ears. You suppose its tail resembled that of a cat’s, but the shape of it was off. Not to mention the pattern of its fur went from striped to spotted in what looked to you like an attempt to be both an owl and a jaguar at the same time. You’d never seen any creature like this before. It certainly wasn’t what you pictured when you thought of aliens, but…neither was Kylo. 

The image makes slow, stationary rotations, allowing you to see it from every angle. Dark, inky black eyes meet yours, and despite its obscureness, you do find it a little cute. Still, now you understand Kylo’s confusion. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this before.” You are, of course, referring to both the hologram and the creature it’s casting. 

When silence once again greets you, you turn to Kylo to see him still staring at you. You don’t know why he seems to observe you so much or why he’s so quiet about everything. Honestly, it’s a little frustrating. Just when you think he’s going to speak again, his fists clench and he jerks his head back to the keyboard. He swipes his finger across it, and the hologram is gone in an instant, just as the door at the end of the room opens up.

The man in the doorway isn’t small, but you can tell just by looking at him that he’s smaller than Kylo is, both in height and in muscle. His face is sour, and his hair is a bright ginger color. He’s looking down at a device with distaste, but the second he notices Kylo in the room, shock crosses his features. Then his eyes narrow in either disgust or suspicion; you can’t really tell. Either way, he’s approaching Kylo Ren differently than the people in the hallway did, and it piques your interest. 

“Ky-Supreme Leader, I did not expect you to be so early. I was just about to send an informant,” Ah. There it is. That slight hesitancy that people approach Kylo with. 

Kylo lifts a hand to wave him off, and the ginger flinches. Now that raises some eyebrows—specifically yours. What was the history there? 

Before you can question it or even think of asking Kylo, seven more people filter into the room, each sporting either a look of surprise or of fear. Why was everyone so shocked that he was early? Was he usually late, or was this a plot of some other kind?

If he was usually late, then why did he rush to get ready to leave? A thought strikes you suddenly: Did he leave early because you were there? A small smirk forms on your face as you revel in the fact that you scared Kylo out of his own room. You file that information away for later.

The men begin casual small talk with each other, exchanging a brief greeting to Kylo but nothing more. You didn’t know their history, but were none of them even going to try talking to him? All of the men in here—save for Ginger—looked older than him by Earth standards. Did they not respect him because he was young? Did they not see him as their boss? 

“Hux.” The room falls quiet, and even you turn to Kylo when he finally speaks. He doesn’t look at you. You felt like you were intruding on something you shouldn’t. “The report.” Gone is any lilt of teasing you had heard in his voice just minutes ago. Replaced once again by the Cold Supreme Leader. You were beginning to wonder if he had DID with how fast he switches.

“Right away, sir.” You’re surprised to find that it’s the ginger that responds. So his name was Hux? What kind of a name was that? You want to ask Kylo, but he feels too far away, and you doubt he’ll answer you when so many people could hear. So you slip your way back over to the window as Hux pulls up a hologram from the table. You’ve been through many work meetings at your previous nine-to-five, and you weren’t trying to sit through any more any time soon. 

The sound of Hux’s voice drones on and becomes background noise as you stare at the endless expanse of space. If you put your head close enough to the glass, you can see just how far the ship extends. It’s a lot larger than you thought, especially because all the hallways look practically the same. For a while you thought you were following Kylo in a loop.

Your cheek hovers less than an inch from the glass when a thought strikes you: could you…stick your head through it? You’ve stuck your head through every surface, but that was here in the ship. If you stepped out into space, could you come back? Surely it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

“And we’ve captured more Resistance, like you ordered. I can’t imagine there are many of them left. If you let me lead the search, we can snuff them out and finally end this war. The galaxy will be ours. All that would be left is to turn the neutral planets to the side of the Order.” Your head whips in the direction of Hux. You hadn’t been paying attention to what he was saying until you heard the word ‘capture,’ and now a sick feeling was growing in your stomach.

Star destroyers. Capturing rebels. War? This…wasn’t a casual space-work meeting about fuel prices and supply deliveries; this was a meeting about war. And Kylo was leading it. 

You inch a step closer as the generals debate the next course of action; your mind is racing, uncertain, and apprehensive. Your eyebrows furrow as you call out—

“War?”

Kylo’s head turns just an inch over his shoulder, just enough so that he can see you in his peripheral vision. Just enough to not arouse suspicion

“What does he mean, Kylo? Who’s the Order? What’s he talking about?” Your heart pounds as you stare into the soulless black of his mask; the room falls silent.

“Supreme leader?” 

He turns his attention back to the room.

“Capture the remaining rebels and bring them to me. I want to personally put an end to the Resistance.”

Your head spins at this newfound information. No wonder everyone was so scared of him. No wonder he was so intimidating. You want to ask questions, pray he’s not as bad as you’re beginning to think he is, but just as you’re about to, it all fades to black.

Your body is back home, but your mind is stuck in another world. Stuck on the people from another world. 

Stuck on the leader of a war.

Pt.11

A/n: Q&A is still ongoing! If you have any questions feel free to ask!~ ☆

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[vacayisland]

HIII i saw that you were taking request so im just asking if you could make a John dory x reader insert fanfic?

John dory meeting his spouce on the mission with Branch and Poppy when they find Bruce and hits it off with them while their is working at Bruces little diner?

@!; It's always a "vacay" with you. John Dory (JD) / Reader

"Summary"! John Dory didn't expect meeting the love of his life on a mission to save his brother; yet here he was, finding himself oh so fascinated with you that Spruce, Branch, and Poppy are having to physically pull him away from Vacay Island! "Tags"! Fluff! A lil awkward. Also, not proof read. I need to research JD a little more before writing another fanfiction about him, yet I tried my best with his personality!

@!; The last thing that John Dory expected from this mission was to find someone who completed him wholly, fully, and completely. The last thing he expected, when arriving to Vacay Island was to fall in love, head over heels for another Troll. The last thing he expected to come from this mission was to find someone who finally understood; understood him and his ways and how he is. Who made him want to be better while helping make him better; and in turn he helps them be a better version of themself. And it felt like some sort of weird destiny. They were only going to the island to find Spruce; a mission with one end goal, one way to go. Yet, when following Spruce (now Bruce) into his co-owned resort, singing had caught his attention right away...

Branch and Poppy kept following after Spruce, who hadn't turned around yet and kept trying to wave the two off while claiming his band days were over and to keep it all hushed-hushed. Though JD had stopped half way through the walk, hearing a tune flutter through the speakers of the indoor seating area. His interest had been captured, it was held captive with ever flutter of the sweet notes that wafted through the air. Though he slowly started to back up to follow his younger brother to get Spruce, he kept his eye out for the person who held such a lovely voice. "This is my wife, Brandy!" JD had swung himself on top of the bar top just as Bruce was introducing his wife. He was about to wave them off, though took a quick double turn when he actually saw who Bruce's wide was. Then grew even more confused when Bruce was bombarded with 10... 11... maybe 12 kids?! "How do you?-" JD pointed towards Brandy and Bruce, managing to interject between all the kids and chaos; Asking the one question that him, Poppy, and Branch were thinking - maybe less Poppy, and more him and Branch. Yet still, how would such a relationship even work? Nevertheless work so well where they had so many children- wait no, JD scrunched his nose as the thoughts that came to mind. He subtly leaned away from the two, glancing between Branch and Poppy and Bruce and Brandy. He turned them out for a moment, glancing back at the open sitting area as everyone chatted and spoke, laughed and cackled, just having a good time. And that's when he saw a flash of color, different from the other warmer-tones. JD didn't notice the way his breath caught in his throat the moment you swung by, landing on the counter top with a skidded stop. Despite wearing roller blades, the wheels didn't bother you. "Brandy! You got the food for Skid and Mary?" "Oh hey! Guys, that's (Y/N), a worker of mine." Bruce cut in as Brandy nodded, ringing a bell before a basket of fries and burgers were pushed out from the kitchen. She would take them, slide them across the counter to you, and you would, as though these plates weren't triple your size, hooked your hair around the holes of the basket. "Thanks, gotta run! Oh- hey Bruce." A wave, bright smile, and you were off; having stopped in for a brief moment but completely capturing JD's attention once again. He couldn't help but watch as you skated off, dragging the plates behind you while dodging whoever and whatever came your way. "So they was singing." JD blurted, not exactly meaning to. Though he captured his brothers and Poppy's attention. Bruce simply crossed his arms, "Oh, (Y/N)? Yeah! They always sing while they work, sometimes they even take a break to entertain everyone with a musical number." Though JD didn't catch it, Branch give him a skeptical look; being quicker to catch onto the way JD looked on you and the slightly softer tone he had.

@!; JD wasn't sure what attracted him to you yet, but he found himself looking for you every second of their stay trying to convenience Bruce to come help save Floyd. Even during the 'Brozone's back' performance, he looked for your face in the crowd; trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of you and your rolling skating antics. When they were done, while Poppy and Bruce's family were cheering them on, his eyes were stuck on the crowd. His nose scrunched as he tried to keep old thoughts out of his head, wondering why you weren't here praising him for his singing or anything like that. No, he cannot think like that. He's growing, he's outgrown that mindset- "Earth to JD!" JD snapped out of his thoughts at Poppy frantically waving her hand in front of his face. A hard blink and he turned over to the staring company. Brandy had a knowing look, in which JD squinted at trying to decipher. Poppy playfully punched JD's arm, "Oh, good to have you back!" A big grin paired her child like antics, in which JD only laughed and brushed off. "What are you talking about, I've been here since the beginning. After all, I'm the one who found Floyd's lett-" Yet he wasn't able to finish before Branch cut in. "Yeah, half here. Ever since we stepped foot here you've been," And Branch waited no time drawing a circle at the side of his temple, pairing it with a whistle; effectively calling JD insane, or mainly out of it. Poppy playfully slapped Branch's arm away from his head, saying something about how that was rude to do. Branch smiled a little, but tried to keep a straight face, as he gestured over to JD with a 'come on' type of look. Poppy glanced over to JD for a moment then back at Branch, a silent agreement that she would try to make unobvious. Bruce simply chuckled at their antics. "What? What's funny?" JD pointed at Bruce, narrowing his eyes a little as his more laid-back brother. "Oh nothing.." And there was a hint in Bruce's voice that made it sound like there was more. Yet he didn't say anything, arms crossed, as he gave JD a knowing look. An oddly, really knowing look. It threw JD off. He wasn't that readable anymore, he wasn't how he was when the band was together and his brothers shouldn't know how he is! He didn't like that look. So he glanced away from Bruce. Yet there was a feeling in his gut that JD knew that Bruce had some sort of hint of what was distracting him.

@!; The mission had been delayed a day. Bruce needed to stay back for a day longer to help Brandy with the kids and figure out all the logistics of leaving so suddenly. JD had gone off on his own, letting Branch and Poppy do their own thing, as he went to go walk on the beach. There wasn't much else to do than to walk on the beach and take in the scene. He didn't exactly want to get into the water, despite how impressing it might be to you- And there his mind goes again! JD cursed himself and cursed his thoughts and cursed you!- Then he paused, with a scrunch of his nose. He couldn't curse you no matter how much he was irritated you infiltrated his thoughts. He hasn't even spoken to you! How would he know you would even like him? That he would even like you! "A little help!!" JD's attention snapped behind him as he heard the shout from an all too familiar voice. Yet he didn't have time to react, seeing a troll barreling towards him with their arms extended and a panic-stricken look. JD jumped out of the way, landing in the sand and purposefully with more force than needed to dig himself in. You whizzed by him and he quickly shot his hair our towards you, wrapping it around your waist and trying to hold onto the friction from the sand to slow you down. Yet, maybe he should have dug himself in deeper. He knew this as soon as his left foot lost footing and he shot forward, dragging across the sand and towards you. He tried grabbing onto something, yet you both only crashed into each other; And while that helped to stop you, it also caused you both to barrel and roll into the shore of the ocean, effectively drenching you both in salty water. JD groaned, laying in the mushy sand floor, feeling the waves crash up against him and recede slowly back once they came. He felt groggy, a little disorientated, yet he didn't have much time to reflect on that feeling when someone began to shake him. "Oh my god! Please don't be dead- please!" And with a few slaps to his cheek, JD shoved a hand into the face of whoever was trying to bother him at this moment. There was a silence for a moment, maybe out of shock, before JD heard the person beside him let out a deep sigh. It was a sigh like the weight of the world had been lifted off the person's shoulders, releasing them some sort of trouble or entanglement with liability. JD opened one eye when the ocean drew back again, keeping his eyes half-lidded, as he tried to see who was with him in the ocean. He swore he nearly died the minute that he saw you, soaking head to toe and looking down at him with the most worrisome look. He jolted up to a sit, not realizing his hand was still cupping your mouth until a moment later; When he drew it back, glancing down at it and back up at you, then cautiously placing it beside him. "Are you okay?" And despite how awkward this situation could be, you didn't make it that way. And JD slightly hoped it was because you saw the look on his face; The silent apology he couldn't bare himself to say. He's been working on himself, but he's not that level of worked on yet. Especially since he knew he owed a few people some big apologies.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." JD mumbled after a minute. He took in a deep breath before placing his hands on his knees and standing up, letting out the breath in a long sigh as he did so. "Oh- um! That's good." Your smile was anxious, a little weary, as you still sat in the mushy sand in the fire range of the waves. JD offered you his hand. You took it, allowing him to help you onto your feet. And that awkward silence along with a prolonged holding of hands. JD wasn't sure why, but he noticed the way your hand fit perfectly into his like all your hands were made to do was hold each other. He kind of didn't want to let go, but did so for the sake of comfortability. It would be awkward to hold hands with a strange, right? And no matter how many fangirls they had felt with in Brozone, JD would never know that answer. He guessed yes, by the way your eyes shifted to the left in an uncomfortable fashion. Yet he saw the way your eyes flicked back to his the moment he let go. He noticed the way your hand dropped to your side limp-like, and the small smile that crept to your face. There was some sort of glint in your eyes that drew JD in again. Though he couldn't exactly tell what that sparkle was for; he just hoped you were going the same way his brain was. "Hey," A pause, you were chewing over your words. "Would you like to talk over a basket of nachos?" "Were you reading my mind?" JD cocked up his eyebrow, giving you a snicker as he saw the cheeky look that rose on your face. "Maybe I am, you'll never know! But I have an employ discount I still have to use and this seems like the perfect occasion to take my break." And you grinned a grin that made JD feel like you were looking right through him; That you knew all his flaws and strengths all at once and yet still loved him for every single one of them. And maybe he was insane to think so. And maybe JD should get to know you better before he jumps to conclusions. But, shit, you had him hooked in a way no Troll has had him before.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[i7lovesyou]

could i mayhaps request something with uh

Gaku mutual pining with an actor he's working with? (male or gn reader pls)

i think i know who you are. 👀

also this became twice as long as my sogo one, it's what happens when you're stuck in a long car ride, so enjoy !

format: hcs

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

- first time writing gaku here, i hope it'll be good

- okay so. before I get into the whole mutual pining situation (which is a whole Thing bc well, it's gaku), let's talk actors.

- gaku is generally a really honest and sincere person, and adding to all that, he stars in plenty of plays.

- he just holds so much passion in his body, that it just feels natural to express and release it in acting.

- maybe that's why he's a sought after actor in the industry, his entire body's just so damn expressive.

- his public image, especially those to the fans, is pretty much the "sexy and cool" type. so many magazines slapped that specific phrase onto his face, everyone was used to it by now.

- the second you got on set though, it's clear that he wouldn't be like that. quite the opposite actually.

- despite being a dancer on top of everything, you watched with raised eyebrows as he tripped over a camera wire, frantically trying to fix the objects he toppled over. Plastic food props bounced and rolled off the ground, and apologies tumbled out of his mouth to the amused staff.

- seriously?

- the "cool, uncaring and sexy" gaku you thought you'd meet was actually caring, polite, and occasionally clumsy.

- greeting him soon after the mess is cleaned, (you helped pick everything up some teasing), he's seems pretty eager to meet you.

- before the scene starts, the both of you start discussing the part you're about to perform.

- talking with him about this is surprisingly easy, and he has plenty of knowledge on the subject. obviously he doesn't know everything, which is why he eagerly listens to you when you explain this and that about the parts he doesn't understand.

- it's like he's absorbing what you say like a sponge, complete with focused eyes. the time you spend just talking passes by like the wind, and soon after, you have to get up to perform.

- for your first take, the both of you do amazing, and it's like you're enveloped in your own little bubble together, lines just falling off the tip of your tongues.

- after, you're a little out of breath, and so is gaku, but soon after, you're animatedly chatting about what could be improved, like the background music, props, line delivery, everything.

- weeks, maybe even months pass by, and you're looking forward to see him more and more.

- your conversations branch into more than only acting (but you still talk about it plenty with him), and occasionally you spend time together after filming at a local cafe.

- every time you see him down, you casually invite him to another cafe outing. platonically of course! ..obviously.

- he does the same to you, providing his company when you need it, when you need someone to stay by you.

- mutual pining? more like mutual respect.

- no but really! he admires you so so much, all your abilities, skills, and everything you are.

- occasionally you'll catch him leaning on his hand, staring at you like you hung the stars.

- he'll look away though, maybe he's afraid of making you uncomfortable. gaku thinks about you so much, maybe you can hear his thoughts if he stares too hard, they're just so loud in his mind.

- to be honest, his acting improved ever since he started talking to you, but that's a bit embarrassing is it? his groupmates won't stop teasing him if they found out. and he wouldn't want to embarrass you, that's his first concern.

- the rest of trigger will find out though, he's just so obvious. they'll even offer to play cupid for him, but he refuses.

- he'll confess to you properly, and by himself.

- you deserve only the best, that's all.

[sharkyisashark]

.ೃ࿐

Aight, two stories in one night :') Couldn't think of any ideas, so I went to chat gpt :') It actually cooked today, so I thought I'd make a timebomb story based off of it. <3

(chat gpt prompt) Thought it'd be super cute if it was based a few years after season 2's ending. So Jinx has been "dead" for a while. Ekko has his suspicions she was alive, but the letter sort of just proves it. The last piece of evidence. Anyway, enjoy!

Ekko was sat looking silently out of his stained glass window. Looking quietly out at the large tree, it's long branches creating soft shadows that draped through the room. In his hands was a letter, no name, no address... nothing. He at first thought it might've been from Vi, considering she usually visited him, often to catch up, or help Cait with a case... But now, he wasn't so sure. Vi's letters were never this... ominous. Ever since the war, things had been... good? Piltover had somewhat created peace with the Zaun now, and things were probably the most peaceful they'd been in years. And yet for Ekko, he just felt... lost. Like a part of him was missing. It drove him insane. He finally got what he wanted, hadn't he? A happy ending. He could relax, and be with the people he cared about. But, he had to realise what the problem really was eventually... He had to realise who this was really about. Jinx. The girl he cared so much about, the girl who had deserved another chance.. was gone. There wasn't a goodbye, there wasn't even one last glance. She had just... slipped from his fingers, vanished from his life, within an instant. He'd been sort of living in shock for the first few months, things had felt all.. weird, dreamy. He couldn't process it, she was gone..? She couldn't just.. die? Even when Vi had told him, the person he'd trust with his life... he still couldn't believe it. He wouldn't. So he didn't, wasting years of his life on some fantasy that she was still out there... somewhere. And he just needed to find her. But never the less, he grew out of that. Forcing himself to recognise how much time he was wasting. He gave up, there was no finding a dead person. He'd spent so long trying to go back to normal, to forget about her, to move on. And when he finally did. He finally felt okay... he finally felt like himself, like he could be released from whatever turmoil was stirring inside of him... This damn letter arrived at his door. He spent days putting it off, he knew it could never be... from her. But he just felt- scared? Excited? Terrified..? Eventually though, Ekko did what any rational person would do. He opened it. His fingers trembled around the paper, chewing on his lower lip as he tugged the card out of it's casing. Stunned as a colourful variety of confetti erupted from inside of the note... settling itself over his desk. There must've been some... event in Piltover, some invite... surely there was something- He felt himself pale slightly as his gaze landed over the page however, soon realising that there weren't many words spread across the paper, maybe a few "hello"s scribbled in blue pen, and rather large "Boom!"s written in red... But it was enough to make his head spin. Those familiar scribbled monkey faces, or quirky little stick figures, drawings of people he could recognise from miles away. It made his heart hurt, this had to be some cruel joke...? Some delusional prank. But he knew otherwise, he'd learnt to memorize the childish lettering, the bright colours... everything that made Jinx... Powder. The part of her that was still in there... the part of her he fell in love with. With an exhaled breath he hadn't realised he was holding, he read over the only coherent text; on the bottom of the page. 'see you in a blink?'

Words cannot explain how fun this was to write <3 I'm thinking I might turn this into a sequel? Tell me what you'd think of that! Anyways! Requests are always open annddd join my community? It's new and we need members, just for chatting and making arcane friends :) Community invite .ೃ࿐ - sharky 🦈

[driflew]

another branch of yellow rose?

oooo i can do alt yellow rose branches sure

for those of you who don't know, yellow rose has a few alternate endings or setups using the same general characters. so there's classic yellow rose, "true villain" yellow rose where Martyn is a villain from the start, a villain swap where Ren is a villain instead... lots of em, not including alternate endings to classic or the. what're we at now. i think 3 new unnamed branches, one which we dont even have any writing for

this one is from uh. villain swap. bc it required the least explanation (but still much). ren's a villain called frostbite, who works for doc (of martyrs vtuber lore, not m77). doc is posing as a hero, secretly growing his fame by being in control of the city's most powerful villain, up until Ren breaks "off script" in front of Doc and Rose (Martyn, his sidekick)

“What?” Doc asks. He sounds more upset than Martyn thought he’d be—almost upset as he had been the day before. “Say that again?”

“Frostbite said he’d been working with someone,” Martyn says, “For someone. He’s been following orders.”

“When— how long ago did you talk to Frostbite?” Doc asks, “Was this during our fight? How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I spoke to him after, uh— I used my emergency teleportation vial to look for him once I got home. You seemed upset, so…” Martyn trails off, barely thinking about what he’s saying. He’s lying to Doc now? Why is he lying for Frostbite’s sake? Frost’s going to love hearing this later, Martyn’s sure. “I found him, talked to him for a bit. I was trying to stall until his teleportation ran out, but I guess he knew what I was doing, because he didn’t stick around, especially after he accidentally let slip he’d been following orders.”

“What do you mean, accidentally let slip? What did he say?” Doc asks, “Walk me through the whole conversation.”

“I found him trying to tend to his wounds. They— they weren’t as serious as they’d looked, thankfully, so he should recover fine. Plus I walked him through how to bandage them right,” Martyn says, lying again, “I was trying to get him to talk to me, you know, make him comfortable.”

“Sure,” Doc says, voice flat. His eyes are narrowed, though if he’s unhappy with any part of this, he doesn’t say.

“I told him he should lay off crime for a while until he recovered. He said something like, ‘now that I’m not following orders, I’m not going to commit any crime I don’t have to,’” Martyn says, “So I asked him what he meant, and he just looked…”

Scared. Panicked. Like he’d made some kind of grave mistake.

“He just teleported out. Didn’t stick around to chat,” Martyn says, “But don’t you get what this means? If Frostbite is following orders, there must be an even more dangerous person calling the shots! Maybe that’s why he stopped wearing the armor—it must be from whoever was telling him what to do! If we can find whoever that is—”

“Rose,” Doc says, calmly cutting through Martyn’s theorizing, “Are you sure he wasn’t just lying to you?”

“I… I mean, no, but—”

“Frostbite lies,” Doc says, “That is what he does. I say I know him better than anyone else. Trust me when I say you can’t believe a word he says.”

“He’s been mostly honest with me,” Martyn says, “Except, you know, the whole… you’re trying to kill him thing.”

Doc’s face does something funny at that, but he sighs.

“He’s got a convincing voice, I’ll give you that. He sounds all sad with his tail tucked between his legs,” Doc says, “But he’s a violent criminal and a vicious liar. You don’t want to become swept away in what he has to say. It’d be best not to listen at all.”

“But if he’s not. If there really is someone behind him—”

“There isn’t,” Doc says calmly.

Martyn opens his mouth to protest, but gives up. Doc smiles.

“I’ve been fighting Frostbite for years, remember. If there was a puppet master pulling his strings, don’t you think I’d have noticed by now?” Doc asks.

“I… guess so,” Martyn says. Doc nods.

“It would be tragic if we found Frostbite was being controlled by some greater evil, forcing him into crime—if that was the case, you know we’d do everything we could to help him,” Doc says, “But he’s lying to you. I’m sure of it.”

“Okay,” Martyn says, “Yeah, you’re right. He just… he seemed so scared.”

“A trick, I promise you,” Doc says, “But if you’re falling for all his traps… Rose, do you remember what I said about staying away from Frostbite?”

“…You said I shouldn’t confront him at all,” Martyn says.

“That’s right,” Doc agrees, “I appreciate you taking the initiative to make up for upsetting me, but I don’t need you to do that for me.”

“I really think it’s worth talking to him, though. I think he trusts me. I could learn more about—”

“Rose,” Doc cuts him off, and it sounds far more like a warning. “I told you the day he snapped. He’s far too dangerous, and not just because of his powers. Don’t trust him. Don’t let him get close enough to burn you or to fill your head with lies. Understand?”

For a long moment, Martyn just stares. Doc frowns.

“Rose,” he says, “I’m just trying to keep you safe. If you can’t listen to me, then I’ll bench you. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Martyn says finally. Doc smiles again, all the tension gone.

“Good. Don’t interact with Frostbite when I’m not present. It isn’t safe,” Doc says, “But thank you for looking for him. It’s a shame you couldn’t catch him.”

“It really is,” Martyn says, though he’s already tuning Doc out. Frost was lying to him? Sure, it makes sense, and Martyn already suspected it. He should just write that comment off, accept it for the lie it is, but…

If there was nothing to it, why did he look so afraid? Why is he suddenly acting so erratically? Why abandon his armor? Is it really a lie? Or has he uncovered something even Doc doesn’t know about?

Just what is going on with Frostbite?

[freezerbnuuy]

Act 2:8- Give In (Page 5)

LORE | CHARACTERS | ABOUT / CHAPTERS / WARNINGS

← PREVIOUS | BEGINNING | NEXT →

Oskar

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. I thought you'd fainted for a moment."

She helps me to my feet, and a nauseous sensation fills my stomach. I notice my arm quivering, and I grab it tight. 

"I...I apologise. I'm quite unwell. Sometimes I have...moments..."

"I get you, sweetheart," she says, with a little laugh. "Don't you worry. I'm sorry I jumped on you straight away. I didn't realise you weren't well until the light hit you. Wouldn't have been any good if we got into bed and...oh, I feel awful-"

Bed? Wait-

"Goodness, I've gotten the complete wrong end of the stick, haven't I? Oh, Watcher, even that sounded- No, no, I thought you were...well, another kind of lady of the night."

"I think I know what you mean," she replies. Her laugh is making me less anxious. "No, don't worry, darling. I'm not a vampire. They've been dead for years now. Wiped out about sixty years ago in a horrible war."

"Well, I apologise for keeping you," I reply, still completely shaken by those horrific thoughts. "I'll let you get back to work."

"No need for apologies. It's quite refreshing, having a chat. Sometimes it's nice to have small talk with a man who doesn't want to do anything, you know. It's been lovely to have met you. I assume you're new here? I don't recognise you. And is that a Windenburg accent?"

"Indeed. Anyhow, I ought to get going. I think I ought to lie down for a while."

"Go and get some rest, sweetheart, it's late. Oh- and my name is Dinah, by the way. And you are?"

My words catch in my throat for a moment. "Oskar."

"And will I see you again, Oskar?"

"I imagine so," I reply. "I'll likely be out a lot during the quieter hours."

"Well, until next time- take care of yourself. I hope you'll come to find some joy in Henford- as difficult as that may be."

Dinah...She seems a lovely woman. I can only imagine how good her business must be. I can't tell whether her compassion is genuine or just her trying to sell herself, but either way, the compassion is appreciated. Perhaps it is genuine; after all, I'm sure Dinah knows what it's like to be misunderstood and harshly judged. No matter what happens, at least I know there's one person in Henford who doesn't think I'm a lunatic.

Gideon

It seems as good a time as any to ask the boys about what they want for their futures. A lot of boys their age are going into apprenticeships, and whilst our fishing is doing well for us, I don't know if that's what they want in the long term.

"Well, actually, Father...we were hoping that maybe we could stay with you and just carry on with the fishing," Josiah says, the quieter of the two.

Really? All of their possible options and they want to stick around with me. I can't say it doesn't touch my heart, but I don't know why they don't want to branch out. I know Josiah is a bit shy, but I thought even he'd want to get out a little. 

"It's hard to get anything out there right now," Daniel says, "not unless you want to be a witchfinder. And you know we don't want to do that because you spent years telling us not to do that," he finishes, with a laugh. "So we figure we may as well stay here and catch fish with you. There's always going to be a market for food, anyway, isn't there?"

Daniel and Josiah have always been precious to me. To see them like this...it makes me realise that both of my sons are much better young men than I was at their age, even better than I was when they weren't even twelve yet. 

"Father, you hunted witches. Why did you always tell us not to do it? It seems hypocriti-"

Daniel tells his brother to shut up, but he keeps going. It's fine.

[aishangotome]

Personal Branch (Xia Xiaoyin): #1 Dongshui Illusion Techniques (东水幻术) Part 6 | Beyond The World 世界之外

Part 5

♡———♡

The wedding began.

Dongshui Village isn't very big, and most people are related to each other in some way. Combined with the fact that the news of my broken engagement had spread like wildfire, many people came to the wedding today with a "let's see what happens" attitude.

However, they weren't necessarily malicious. Perhaps they were just curious. Curious to see what kind of person I would marry under these circumstances.

Even my runaway ex-fiancé, Wu Hui, came.

When Xia Xiaoyin and I walked into the wedding hall, the originally noisy crowd instantly fell silent, then began to whisper amongst themselves.

After all, if we put everything else aside, just looking at his appearance and bearing, there are few people in the world who could compare to Xia Xiaoyin.

Guest A: I used to think that young master Wu Hui was a rare talent. After their daughter was jilted, I thought she definitely wouldn't find anyone better. Now it seems that might not be the case...

Guest B: Yeah, looking at it this way, we can't say for sure what the real reason behind the broken engagement was. After all, how could she find such a great groom in such a short time...

Xia Xiaoyin, holding my hand, steadily walked with me into the hall. As if thinking of something, he suddenly leaned down and whispered in my ear.

Xia Xiaoyin: So, which one is your ex-fiancé?

I discreetly pointed to Wu Hui in the crowd.

You: That one, the one in blue.

Actually, it was also my first time seeing him in person. This Wu Hui fellow is reasonably good-looking, but maybe I've seen too many handsome faces. This level of attractiveness doesn't really leave much of an impression on me anymore.

Xia Xiaoyin gave him a brief, dismissive glance.

Xia Xiaoyin: ...How ugly.

Xia Xiaoyin then looked at me again.

Xia Xiaoyin: I'll give you credit, you have decent taste.

You: What do you mean, decent taste?

Xia Xiaoyin: You ultimately chose me.

After that, Xia Xiaoyin remained silent, calmly accepting the gazes from all directions.

Under the master of ceremonies' guidance, Xia Xiaoyin and I were led into the first trial—a simple maze made of gourd vines.

During my studies, I learned that the same maze is used for all weddings here. Most newlyweds have already secretly figured out the maze's paths, so it's not difficult to get through.

But Xia Xiaoyin and I are different. Xia Xiaoyin has been hampered by his leg injury, and I've had to spend time taking care of him. We haven't had a chance to try the maze, nor have we looked for any guides.

So now, we're just standing at the maze entrance, staring at each other blankly.

Xia Xiaoyin: Shouldn't we go left here?

You: I think it's right.

Ten minutes later.

Xia Xiaoyin: I have a feeling we've been here before. That's why I said we should've gone left.

You: Whatever you say.

Forty minutes later.

Xia Xiaoyin and I finally found the exit of the maze through a process of trial and error.

Before leaving, we exchanged a look, quickly composed ourselves, and put on an act of perfect harmony, arm in arm as we approached the master of ceremonies.

I heard the guests watching nearby whispering to each other.

Guest A: Young people in love are so sweet. They can spend so much time together in such a simple maze.

Guest B: Yeah, when you're in love, even plain water tastes sweet. When two people are together, taking their time, chatting, time just flies by, doesn't it?

I glanced at Xia Xiaoyin, thinking, "You have no idea what we went through in there." Unexpectedly, I met Xia Xiaoyin's gaze. He met my eyes, then immediately looked away, the skin behind his ears slightly flushed.

Xia Xiaoyin: Hurry up, let's go to the next stage.

He's surprisingly enthusiastic about completing these trials.

The second trial requires each person to find an item belonging to the other.

Since Xia Xiaoyin arrived with nothing, I asked Liu Hu to help me buy a piece of jade, pretending it was Xia Xiaoyin's personal item.

Now, it was time to "find" it in the wilderness.

Since I bought the jade myself, finding it wasn't difficult.

I picked out the jade, held it in my hand, and looked towards Xia Xiaoyin.

They had taken my necklace and mixed it with several other necklaces, scattering them randomly throughout the wilderness. I was a little worried that Xia Xiaoyin wouldn't be able to tell which one was mine.

But unexpectedly, Xia Xiaoyin only glanced at the other necklaces before walking past them, accurately locating my necklace and bringing it to me.

According to the process, after finding the other person's item, you have to personally put it on them.

I bent down and carefully fastened the jade pendant for Xia Xiaoyin.

After I finished fastening his, it was Xia Xiaoyin's turn to put the necklace on me.

He stood very close to me, slightly lowering his head, his long, slender neck almost touching mine.

He seemed to be looking intently at the necklace clasp in his hands, over my shoulder.

A large shadow loomed over me, and I could almost feel his breath.

I lowered my voice—

You: How did you recognize this one as mine?

Xia Xiaoyin: You wear it every day. Why wouldn't I recognize it?

The necklace was fastened, and Xia Xiaoyin took a step back. The air of closeness surrounding me dissipated as well.

Xia Xiaoyin: What are you standing there for? Let's go.

You: Oh.

I hurried forward and instinctively grabbed the edge of his wide sleeve, following him towards the ancestral hall where the third trial would take place.

Xia Xiaoyin was wearing traditional Dongshui Village clothing today. He looked quite handsome in it, and it didn't look at all out of place on him. Or rather, with his looks and physique, it would be hard for him to look bad in anything.

Liu Hu was right about one thing: being around Xia Xiaoyin, even if just as a companion, is a feast for the eyes—as long as he doesn't open his mouth.

In front of the Wu clan temple, the master of ceremonies and others were already in position.

Master of Ceremonies: The third rite—the bride and groom enter the temple to make their marriage vows.

The music of strings and pipes began to play, and Xia Xiaoyin and I, guided by the master of ceremonies, entered the temple.

To avoid offending the deities, only the master of ceremonies and the bride and groom could enter here. Everyone else remained outside to observe the ceremony.

The master of ceremonies had already explained the process to us—the couple would take turns making their vows and then exchange tokens. The tokens were the wooden dolls we had carved ourselves.

The temple was very quiet, dust motes dancing in the beams of light filtering through the window lattices.

Before the Wu clan deities, Xia Xiaoyin and I stood facing each other, gazing at one another.

Xia Xiaoyin: I am willing to be with Y/N, from this life to all future lives, never to leave or forsake her.

You: I am willing to be with Yin Xia, from this life to all future lives, never to leave or forsake him.

I saw Xia Xiaoyin's eyes flicker for a moment.

Indeed, this marriage contract, even the names are false.

He took his carved wooden doll from the tray offered by the master of ceremonies and handed it to me.

I finally saw the doll that Xia Xiaoyin had carved himself.

The doll was rather ugly, but it carried the faint warmth of his body.

I also handed him my doll.

Xia Xiaoyin took the doll from my hand, his face full of disgust.

Xia Xiaoyin: So ugly.

You: Thank you. I carved a doll of you.

Xia Xiaoyin: I made sure to carve your doll to be very beautiful.

I looked at the doll in my hand and was filled with doubt. I felt that, no matter what, the doll I carved was at least a little better than the one Xia Xiaoyin made. But, considering that His Highness the Regent was helping me act out this charade for free, I decided to let it go.

Just at that moment, a clap of thunder suddenly rang out outside the temple. I turned to look and saw a huge bolt of lightning flash across the sky.

Master of Ceremonies: According to tradition, if a sudden downpour, windstorm, or snowfall occurs while the ceremony is being performed in the temple, the ceremony cannot be considered complete. You will need to return to the temple on the same day next year to finish the ceremony.

Xia Xiaoyin's expression looked very unpleasant, but he didn't say anything.

I let out a soft sigh.

It's clearly just a fake contract, yet even the heavens aren't willing to be our witness.

.

.

.

.

.

Dongshui Illusion Techniques: Part 7

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar!

[secondsovereign]

[SHARE A COFFEE]

It's certainly a very different type of coffee to what they usually have on the Express. Setting aside the Himeko coffee, which he drinks as a personal challenge and, to his knowledge, others just try not to, the Express coffee - while good, though it's not as if he ever complains about food or drinks he has at his disposal - can't really compare to fresh coffee prepared by a professional barista.

Dan Heng finds himself sharing this rare moment of repose and relaxation with Mr. Yang, chatting idly while watching the joyful, bustling crowds around them. Though he has to admit, he is very thankful for how forgiving the man is with regards to his thoroughly lacking small talk skills.

(He realize that when one takes away data bank updates, the next Trailblazing mission, or the peril currently at hand, he is left with precious little he is willing to or capable of talking about. Maybe... Just maybe, he should work on that at some point.)

"How has Fontaine been for you, Mr. Yang?" He asks, hoping to bounce the conversation back his way and perhaps get something he'll be able to go off of in return. "Have you seen something particularly of interest?"

WELT HAS ALWAYS BEEN APPRECIATIVE of Dan Heng's willingness to let conversations hang idle, hazel eyes scanning over the melusines that are almost joyfully skipping past the café with the smallest hint of amusement. The company and coffee have been a highlight of a rather uneventful day, one he'd spent with his attention split across numerous familiar and unfamiliar peoples, yet to cap it off with the company of the youthful Vidyadhara had been an unexpected boon for the elderly Herrscher.

"Rather reminiscent of home, surprisingly." There's a kindly yet fond look to his features, sitting back in the chair before a hand snakes out to obtain a sandwich from the small tray placed between them. "As for something of interest... just north of the opera house there's a rather remarkable species the locals call Vishaps, rather reminiscent of dragons in a way." And what a curious bunch they were indeed, the few he'd been able to barely approach were rather kindly, if suspicious of the human who'd sat on the banks of the stream and just committed them to memory.

But, this was no time to get caught in his memories of the regal creatures, not when he'd be adding it to the archives in a few days time. "And you, Dan Heng, has this been a fulfilling rest after the few brief hours spent on Penacony?" The former sovereign despises bringing up the dreamscape, and yet they'd all been left feeling the aftershocks in ways that left him concerned for the myriad passengers of the astral express. He's seen the shadows in Himeko's gaze, fearful for whatever memories the machinations employed had dredged up from the branches of the Imaginary Tree, watched the weariness in Caelus' features when he thought Welt wasn't looking, all things that had become blasphemy in his eyes.

"Have you found something to take your mind off the past few months?" The question Welt is asking is unsubtly hidden, a need to ensure the young man before him was no longer haunted by memories of Stelleron Hunters and a blade piercing his heart.

[flowers-the-sun-witch]

BMB day 2!

feat: @wizblr-blue-moon-ball's Lurien, and mentioning @hyper-lynx's Hemi and Liam!

The first thing Flowers realises about the ball that it was big.

Well, big might not be the right word for this situation. The main hall ahead of them sprawled out over a gigantic area, and guests who had arrived before them chat amongst themselves, glasses clinking and people laughing. A little ways away, behind a drawn-back curtain, some have taken to the dance floor, humans and elves and beastfolk and others who Flowers cannot categorise all coming together.

Above them, massive, gilded chandeliers dangle from tall ceilings held up with winding gold and silver beams, almost like a cathedral. Blue banners and sconces line the walls, also decorated with gold and other precious minerals that previously, they couldn't even imagine seeing in person. Many doors of all different sizes branch off from the atrium, although some seem to be locked off to guests and others don't even have proper doorknobs; they are instead almost plate-like discs, engravings of the moon carved into them.

Flowers feels incredibly out of place, surrounded by other attendees in outfits much more suited to an event such as this; all elegance and beauty, nothing like the simple blue dress and boots they're wearing. They slip off to the side, next to the door, and watch the guests. A clockwork construct puts a glass in their hands with surprising grace. Flowers thanks them, before moving on. A quick sip reveals it to taste of honey and something they can't place. Alcohol, probably, but that isn't it.

They glance around, trying to find someone recognisable that isn't Liam, Hemi or Lurien. Some part of them wants to talk to someone new, but they have had a surprising level of difficulty starting up a conversation with a stranger lately; it's probably nothing though. After all, out of the maybe fifty-something people in attendance, at least a couple have to somewhat know Flowers, right?

They dismiss that issue for later, taking another sip of their drink. To their side, a distinct portion of people have made their way to the snack tables. Flowers decides on a whim to go ahead and join them. After all, they'll want to try the good food before it all runs out— if it all runs out. With the size of the rest of this event, there's a good possibility that there will be leftovers by the end. Still, they do want to sneak some stuff out for later.

Shaking off these thoughts, Flowers makes their way to the snack tables. It's piled high with chocolates and puddings and other foods that they can't even name, much less know what they are. They pick up what they think is a brownie and take a bite; it almost melts in their mouth. They reach for another, but realise that they probably shouldn't take all the food for themself. They laugh quietly to themself, then make a mental note to ask for the recipe later. They might even actually learn how to cook for this, instead of just sending the instructions to their friend.

Flowers is suddenly aware of everyone moving toward the main floor, just in front of the second-storey walkway. They shove through the crowd a little, continually apologising (and ignoring the voice in their head that keeps calling them a Canadian), until they get to the bottom of the staircase. They see Hemi and Liam almost at the other side of the crowd, and almost start to move toward them, but everyone suddenly starts to quieten down and Flowers stops. They step back so they can see above the banister, on which Lurien is leaning with his glass, a warm smile across his face. He starts to speak.

"Good evening everyone! I'm honored to see so many of you in attendance. For those I haven't met in person yet, my name is Lurien. I look forward to getting to know you all tonight.

"The intent of this ball is to bring together members of our community and celebrate the arcane— so I raise a glass in toast of new friendships forged and old ones strengthened," Lurien says, raising his glass. Around Flowers, others do the same; they follow.

"To new friendships and broadening horizons, may you all enjoy the festivities tonight!"

Almost all glasses have been raised in toast, and as Flowers backs away from the crowd, the music starts. They grin, wider than usual.

This will be a fun night.

[satninbarbie]

my mama and i do this thing every sunday that we call 'sundays with elvis' where we watch one elvis movie (maybe two) and then put on elvis music, we talk about our week and sometimes they are elvis related things and sometimes they aren't but we try to include elvis as much as we can. (would you guys like to do a Sundays with Elvis maybe with me on here to just decompress after a long week? I would love it ♡)

this weekends thing that came up was the Priscilla movie (there is no direct hate to Priscilla in this so if you're looking for that you might wanna move on !!)

and none of y'all asked for this but this is just my take on it. this shit might be a little long so get ready.

nate fucking jacobs is that you?? i know it is, i feel bad stereotyping him because he's trying to branch out and go you, king, slay but stay away from my king. the vibes are just not right, not even a chance in hell for 60's Elvis. how can people think this even looks right. now, i know a lot of people felt that way about austin when he got the role of Elvis, nobody could ever be Elvis Presley, there is only one. austin at least gave off the vibes, the energy, dug deep into the soul and i don't know Jacob's process or whatever but something tells me with how fast this movie got rolling he didn't study our beloved. i know this move isn't about Elvis, he already has one and this one is about Priscilla.

also i find it to be funny that EPE wouldn't let them use Elvis' actual music in the movie and the little review they left saying "looks like a college movie, the set designs are horrific that's not what Graceland looks like." and while i agree with them, i think sofia has a certain style she does and that's respectable but however, i expected more for a movie like this.

not to mention Priscilla herself has said that she wished she wouldn't of told some of the stories the way she did and I respect her for saying she made mistakes but then again my question is, did she have any rights to the movie and did she talk to sofia about some of the exaggerations she admitted to? or did she just leave sofia to take those and run with them?

overall, I don't see Priscilla as a villain, satan or the wicked witch (or whatever anyone calls her) in any story but there are some things she has done that I don't agree with.

however, I will not see this movie because part of me has this gut feeling even though people have spoken out and said that it doesn't make Elvis look bad and part of me wants to believe that Priscilla loves him like she says she does and if this made Elvis look bad or tarnished him in anyway that she wouldn't be okay with it being released.

again, that's part of me hoping.

i'm not excited for this movie, i'm not too keen on sofia i've never liked her movies, i don't know how much to trust priscilla on this, she loves Elvis to this day and proves that but another part of me is very protective of Elvis like i think and hope priscilla would be (probably even more so because she was actually married to the man and knew him on a personal level whereas i didn't). i just adore Elvis but i will not see this movie or support it in anyway. i'm nervous if anything about this movie and part of me thinks i am for sure overreacting but i am certainly a drama queen.

~

i'd love to hear what you guys have to say, it doesn't even have to be about this, it can be about anything Elvis related. I'd love to chat. ♡

[ghostjelliess]

Cinderella's sassy ass

I'm reading this German version of Aschenputtel and first of all, it's her mom's money. Her dad comes back with a new wife and she doesn't mind cus that's normal, but then they're all just spending all the money and she's getting more stressed as they're dismissing servants. Like, this family has a pidgin coop big enough for a whole person to hide in (it's Cinderella who hides there lol). Anyway, daddy dearest is going to the festival with the boys and asks what they want. Playing into his fantasy charade, the first step sister says jewels and pearls, the second says pretty dresses, and he turns to Cinderella, who has become their maid out of necessity and irritation, refusing to spend her dead mother's money outside the first year of mourning, says the equivalent of "oh, father remembers me? Oh father, a stick, bring me a stick and I shall be happy, the first stick you see, that will be enough for me (...to beat myself to death with because y'all are stupid and we're gonna starve)."

So he goes to the festival for like, actual days, while Cindy-relly cares for the entire estate alone. Her clothes are scrubs, she cooks and cleans and preserves food and plants the garden and is trying her best not to die within the same year as her forgotten mother, while her father dances through the festival with his fellow Rich BrosTM, refusing to listen to her lectures about fiscal responsibility and basically agreeing with the whole family that she's just such a debbie-downer ughhhh gross. So on his way home with his trunks of dresses and jewels, a branch AT THE GATE OF THE HOUSE hits his hat and he's like "oh shiiiiiiit, I forgot about my little Ash-sweeper, damn. Good thing there's sticks everywhere, phew." He breaks off the branch and calls them all down and presents the ridiculous outfits to his new daughters and wife and literally hands Cinderella the branch like "here... you wanted this. I don't know why but you said..." *shakes entire tree limb at her*

Cinder-soot gapes at them all, but takes her new pet with an awkward "an avocado... thaaaaaaaanks..." and sticks it in a vase while chatting with her BFF birds and watching her house fall apart. There's only so much she can do, and boy howdy she's tired of doing it alone. When the hazelnut branch has roots, she goes to plant it on her mother's grave and it grows super fast. These two white doves take up residence in the tree as her leveled-up bird best friends because they get to eat magical hazelnuts that fed on her mom's rotting corpse, but we're just going to brush over that. They live in the pidgin house and grant her wishes and make cleaning way easier, so it's fine.

So the king throws another festival, or whatever, and all the eligible maidens must come. Cinderella is an eligible maiden, she follows rules, she must go. Step-mom agrees, she should go, but ohhhhhh noooooo, I spilled this dish of ash and lentils, you have to pick it all up before you can go. Cinderalla is an eligible maiden who follows all the rules, she must pick up the ash and sort the lentils before she can go. She starts to panic-sing and the birds come help her get all the bits back into the plate. She skips into the room and present her step-mother (who she is bound by household rules and propriety to follow the orders of), excited that she can go. Step-mother takes the dish, genuinely impressed, somewhat confused, and maybe a little concerned, and right in cindy-boo-boo's face, drops it again, "oh shoot... I'm so clumsy... there's no way you'll be ready in time now."

Cinderella is a one-task-minded kind of person though, and she's really set her heart on following the orders of the king, so she starts panic crying a second time, and again, the birds help just like day-one ghosts of her mom should. This time, she runs out with the plate to find her family getting in the carriage to go and her dad waves with a shrug, frowning "you don't have anything nice to wear anyway, kiddo. You wanted that stick, remember? Besides, you can't dance, you'll embarrass us."

What a saint, what a guy, what a special center-fold feature of Daddy Issues.

So she cries by the grave of her mom, by the special magic tree, because they're right. She can't go, she's breaking the law, she's going to be outcasted before she even enters society, stuck as their maid forever. If she tries to join next season, they'll ask where she was at the King's orders, and they'll know she's a Bad Person who doesn't follow the rules, or she'll be killed!

The tree interrupts her pity party, dropping a whole gold and silver ball gown and shoes and the birds chirp. She gets ready and runs to join the festival in town. Her family sees her and thinks she's a foreign princess; the prince sees her and dances with her, and refuses to dance with anyone else because if he let go of her hand, surely another would take it. Another prince tries to cut in while they're chatting and taking a break and our Prince steps in front of her and says "she is my partner."

Ashy-soot-foot got tired and wanted to go home and the Prince says he'll walk her there, he wants to see where such a pretty lady lives, and she laughs and walks for a while, but when they get too close, she hikes up her skirt and sprints away, jumping into the pidgin house while the prince is turned away. The magic birds take her dress and she jumps out the other entrance of the roost and darts inside.

The Prince is left lingering at the wall of their estate, confused, wondering if she was a ghost, when the family arrive. The Prince asks Daddy Darling who lives there, and broski introduces his family, but the Prince describes his Perfect Woman, and the family laughs and says there is only what's-her-face inside. They're all pretty wasted, so they get a bunch of axes and hatches and Papa and Prince literally chop down the pidgin house until they're sure no one is inside. The family enter to find Cinderella at the fire, reading or whatever not-like-other-Girls do and fall into their beds after making fun of her for being malnourished and super-short. The birds do not like this, they start to attack, but ya'girl has had a long day, calling them off.

The next day the same thing happens, but she doesn't whine to join them. She waits for the fam to leave, then runs to the tree and asks for a dress and gets an even prettier one. Skipping to the festival and looking for her charming stalker Prince like a creep, she is happy to see him pouty and glowering at a line of friends pushing him to dance, refusing to have fun or dance with any of them until he sees her. He asks her to dance and again, throughout the whole night, refuses to let anyone else cut in, claiming each time "that's my partner" until they backed off. Again, she got tired and wanted to go home, but this time, he walks her back and follows very closely, keeping a careful eye. But once again, Cindy-swiftfoot gets away, because it's her house and the birds like her and she knows all the secret spots. They're just strolling down a road together, when suddenly, she jumps the low wall, dodges through the kitchen garden of herbs and bushy vegetables, and scampers up into a pear tree as light as a squirrel and the Prince blinks "wondering what became of her" (which means either he lost her again cus it was dark and they're probs drunk OR, my preferred interpretation, he saw her climb the tree and wondered if she was like... a tree-person, or a fairy, or something, just watching her from the garden gate cus it's rude to trespass even though he's a Prince).

Again, the father came home, and drunk papa and prince cut down the tree until they were certain there was no one trapped in it. C-Daddy explains that Cinderella isn't really social, she's like, ugh, responsible and stuff, she would never go to a festival. One time he offered to get her a dress with her dead-mom's fortune and all she wanted was a stupid stick, what a prude.

Cinderella, meanwhile, had either left her dress in the tree for the birds to carry away and jumped down on the other side, in the dark, no longer glittering, so the Prince didn't see her come down, OR used the tree to climb into her room and that's just not something girls in pretty dresses do, so they cut down the tree and probably ate pears for weeks looking for the girl they thought was hiding there. Dad, step-mom, and sisters pop in, all curious and swaying to, once again, find Ashy-Ash putzing around the fireplace, reading or sewing or darning socks or whatever DIY nonsense of the day kept their house standing.

Finally, on the last day of the festival, 'Drella waits for them to leave, goes to the hazelnut grave, and pulls out a dress of moonlight and wonder (which we are assured does come from the magic birds and the hazelnut tree, she is NOT pilfering the grave goods of her dead princess-mom). She goes to the festival and meets her Prince for her last day, because the house won't last, and the king's orders were only for the festival, but it's nice to feel wanted each time he starts a new dance with her; it's nice to be spoken to as an equal, as someone with thoughts and dreams and goals and not the scourge of Satan ruining all the fun. The night ends and the Prince goes to walk her home, but her plan to escape him on the final day is just to sprint as fast as she can away from him. It works, because she is small but stupid-fast. She rushes past him in a blur, already too far ahead to catch, and the Prince sighs, absolutely smitten.

But he's not dumb. He knew she would run, and he knew the vague direction she would go, since he'd walked her almost-home twice. He had coated the alley stairs in pitch to stop her from running away, and it also works. Cinderella's foot gets stuck in the sticky mess, but, unexpectedly to the royal Prince, but second nature to the rowdy keeper-of-all-things Aschenputtel, she just steps out of the shoe, leaving it behind. This is ridiculous, people don't walk barefoot, they don't leave golden shoes behind! But already she is gone and the stubborn Prince has only a conjured shoe left behind.

The next day he goes to Cinderella's father's house with the shoe. She lives there somewhere, three times she disappeared on their property. He pounds on the door and says he will marry the beautiful woman who lives there and fits the shoe, right now! The vicar is in the car waiting, let's go, bring her out!

Taking the shoe, the step-mother retreats to her daughters' room, holding the shoe out to the eldest as they all giggled about their luck. But the shoe was too small, and even though they were very proud of their beautiful feet (because Cinder-foot did all the walking), the step-mother tells her to cut off her pinky toe so the shoe fits, when she's queen, she'll never have to walk anyway. She does, happily, and the Prince, confused but convinced by the shoe, reluctantly walks her to his horse, ready to ride all the way to the castle.

But those meddling birds, absolutely hating the sisters, start crying and picking at her feet, until the Prince sets chivalry aside enough to look at what all the fuss is about, and finds her foot bleeding all up in his precious shoe, gross! He stomps back to the house, tosses her in, and tells them to try again. The step-mother convinces the second sister to cut off a slice of her heel to fit the shoe, and again, the Prince believes them and walks her to his horse, lifting her up and riding past the grave, until the birds attack her feet before they reach the gate, and he finds his mysterious maiden's golden shoe scarlet and ruined with their blood. He turns the horse around and rides directly up to the door, pushing the sister off, "this is the wrong one. I'll let you try one more time." It is a threat, and the father hears it.

The father stutters forward, confused and hungover and annoyed that all they have to eat are pears, still trying to find whoever cut down his pidgin coop, points to his wife and step-daughters, "these are the only people here. There are no servants. My last wife left a daughter, but she's a runt, it's impossible you met her, she's tiny and ugly, and doesn't know how to have fun. She doesn't go to festivals, and one time I asked her what she wanted, like a dress, or a trinket, or a mirror, and all she wanted was a--"

"A stick, yes, you said." The Prince narrows his eyes down at the father, sighing with a snap of his fingers, "bring her out."

"Oh, no way, she's all dirty. Covered in dirt and ash and gross." The entire family tries to explain at once, "it would be far too embarrassing to present her to you, your royal highness."

The Prince smiles stiffly, glancing at the ruined shoe sitting in a bloody puddle on the stoop, resting his hand on the sword at his hip while even his beloved horse rolls its eyes. But they really don't want to bring her out, so he finally sighs and dismounts, boots creaking, "it's an order."

Cinderella's sisters drag her through the kitchen, doing their best to trip her and cover her in dust and flour as they wrangle her to the door, explaining that it was a prince's orders. Humiliated at her appearance covered in sweat and dirt and dough, dirt under her nails, her hair still greasy from the night before, wooden clogs on from weeding the dewy herb garden, Cinderella digs her heels in, wiping her face on her apron, cleaning herself up as much as she can while the sisters laugh at her. They toss her in front of the Prince, sending her jolting into his chest as she leaps over the stark red shoe, her wooden clogs thudding loudly off her small feet.

Eager not to be tricked a third time, the Prince ignores chivalry and points to the shoe, urging her to try it on without getting excited. She slides her foot in, revealing a perfect fit (OR pulls out her own golden slipper which she'd kept as a keepsake), and the Prince, not quite ready to believe anyone yet, scoops her into a dance, spinning her around the yard and then into a hug, proclaiming that this is the right one, this is his maiden! He knows her despite the rags and dirt, and she could definitely whoop all they asses in a run and if they don't let them go in peace. He will make them race for the title. The two step-sisters, profusely bleeding from their open wounds, stop holding her back and the Prince pulls her onto his horse, probably flipping off the father, as the birds soar above them as they leave the house. As they passed the grave, the hazel bush wilts in a final farewell, the last of the magic used up, her mother finally at peace with Cinderella's freedom.

The day of their wedding arrives and Cinderella sits like a queen in her chariot as she is paraded through the city toward the church, every bit as splendid as her mother once was, back straight and proud, the white birds perched on each shoulder. As her mother's fortune was squandered the minute she left the house, her step-sisters jump at her, desperate to curry favor, for if she only recognized them publicly, they could be the sisters of the Princess. The eldest step-sister limps on her right side, the youngest on her left, but Cinderella does not greet them. They reach for her, enraged, and the birds on her shoulder each pecked at at eye; Aschen-Put-Your-Eye-Out does not call them off. The screaming sisters let go as the procession approaches the church.

After the ceremony, Cin-D-rella emerges with her new husband, and again, her step-sisters lunge forward, demanding the recognition of the Prince and Princess, the crowd surging around them in confusion. The Prince looks at his new wife's stony expression and shrugs beside her "I've never seen these people in my life." The guards move in to drag the sisters away, but before they can, the ghost-birds peck out their other eye in repayment for all the apologies they owed. Cinderella waltzes easily down the cathedral steps beside her Prince, smiling at all the ways they might make their kingdom better economically, the Prince joking that he might not be able to catch her if she runs away again, but his horse could... probably, and the family that took advantage of the only responsible person in their party was left to suffer the rest of their lives in all the ways they'd once mocked Cinderella, stooped short and streaked with dirt.

[kyogre-blue]

Got another ending in Kaveh’s hangout. I think I’ll have to consider this one to have 4 branches, since I can tell the other ending in this “branch” will be about Kaveh’s mother and her notebook, so the content might be fairly different. 

This branch has Alhaitham (sigh) and ruminations about the nature of art and the meaning it brings to life. It’s... more of the same really, in that it’s not awful but it’s quite incoherent and doesn’t really flow. 

Aside from the meaning of art incoherence, I have to say that this continues the trend from Kaveh’s bio in that they present things that are quite similar to everyday real life in a way that makes it seem like the writers have no basic understanding of the real world. 

In Kaveh’s bio, they had that ridiculous mess about how group projects work. (What the hell was Alhaitham even doing, driving people off the project because they “couldn’t keep up,” like, bro....... that’s not how group projects work...)

Here, we have the writers apparently not understanding how libraries work, even slightly. 

Point 1: They have a tradition of writing in the library books. 

And of course, this leads to cases where the notations cause problems.

Point 2: Kaveh thinks it’s fine to rearrange library books at will... but also the “Grand Conservator” rearranged the books based on complaints from students about Kaveh’s long notes, implying they don’t have some kind of structure for arranging the books in the first place...? How do they find things, then. 

Point 3: There’s apparently no rules about keeping quiet in the library. Alhaitham here might be lying like usual, but he’s suggesting that Kaveh is talking very loudly in the House of Daena, and Kaveh mentions that they met when Kaveh saw several other students chatting away near Alhaitham. Neither of these instances prompt any comments about what is appropriate in a library, so the loud talking is fine??

Like, I know Sumeru had that all but forgotten point about how the existence of the Akasha made them devalue books (among other things), but like... this is such a mess. 

This one is not only at best a huge stretch in regard to real life (many people do not consider schooling their “best years,” and it just reflects on the writers that apparently they do), but it also doesn’t make sense for the Sumeru setting. 

Many, MANY characters have conveyed how awful and soul crushing it is to be a student at the Akademiya. Remember Alrani, who would rather get kidnapped than have to work on her thesis anymore? Remember Layla, who is so stressed that she developed a wholeass split personality? Like, these are not people who are going to look back on Akademiya with fondness. 

Additionally, Akademiya is their government?? Half the cast is STILL “at the Akademiya.” They’re employed there, they don’t leave. This is just the writers substituting college/high school with Akademiya when it’s not actually one to one. 

Then, we have Alhaitham’s long monologue about Kaveh: 

This is like......... OK, so this hangout starts when Kaveh straight up walks out on his client. In the tavern, he makes it clear that he’s concerned about doing so because it would have repercussions for his reputation and clients might not want to work with him. Which makes sense. 

What Alhaitham is saying here is..... nonsense? Yes, of course Kaveh spends a lot of time trying to meet his clients’ demands. That’s his job?? 

And yeah, sure, maybe there are architects with bad tempers who get held up as paragons of “staying true to one’s principles,” but the people holding them are probably not their clients. Notice how he very nicely doesn’t bring up whether those inferior architects make any money or even receive any worthwhile work. (Adding on that, if you want to create things as an architect, you must have clients, because otherwise you won’t have the money to create anything. So even from the standpoint of fulfilling his own drive as an artist, Kaveh still needs to take commissions.) 

Alhaitham: have you considered becoming a primadonna that only does passion projects once in a blue moon

Alhaitham, “Admonishing Instruction”: I gave him advice one time, and he broke up with me. Never doing that again. 

And those differences will remain unresolved forever because god forbid Genshin change the status quo after the local Archon quest is over. 

Puzzling comment, to me. Wouldn’t higher-quality timber mean a sturdier, more long-lasting structure? Why is this a matter of aesthetics? 

Kaveh’s comments on art: 

ok, that’s fine.

sure.

ok, also understandable.

(these are from two different conversations, but they fit together pretty well and I missed the dialogue box before the last one)

The last quote is what Kaveh considers as the meaning of art. To create things that can move people, even across time. 

The funny thing is that his definition excludes Nilou’s performances because they are impermanent. Additionally, iirc the original flow of this speech is not quite this smooth. I think he goes back into “art is so painful” at some point, in a way that made me go “you can be passionate about things that aren’t art, dude.” 

AND THEN he drags “divine inspiration” back into it, which doesn’t.... have anything to do with what he’s been saying.......

Kaveh: art comes from believing in and capturing the nuances of daily life. it’s something that moves the soul and will immortalize the artist as their creations are acknowledged across countless years

Kaveh: maybe the gods make you do it

Where the hell did the gods come from??

Assorted comments: 

You don’t know him? If you didn’t play the Sumeru wizard games, you’ve literally only seen him in a few very short scenes with Alhaitham. 

If you have played the wizard tournament, you still barely know him! Like four fifth of what we know of him comes from eavesdropping, no less. 

Why are all you idiots always digging in the desert. Does your damn jungle not have ay buildings for you to investigate? 

Kaveh is more than cool with bragging while also being self-conscious and having too little self-esteem. 

Jumping to conclusions. The woman took one small suitcase with her because she wanted to leave her past behind. But surely the only reason she’d leave behind a book filled with her past is....... for Kaveh. Yup. 

How and why would Haravatat, a darshan she wasn’t even part of, find out her diary password. What is even the point of this comment?  

Rare instance of having a ballpark age! Kaveh is at least 25.