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@reunion
...the sun is reborn, & a new dawn will break. #reunion! ˎˊ˗ a super deluxe itty-bitty writing multimuse, brought to you by angie! (24yo, she/her) [s]low activity. ✶ featuring guests from: honkai: star rail, zenless zone zero, haikyuu!!, & one piece. 𑣲𖹭 officially est. january of 2026.
guidelines & roster below. ⤵︎
did that one tomodachi life trend with law!! 🫶
[ ✉️ ] @villagerbee: yachi offers atsumu a bite from her fork.
“ —how long's it been since we last saw each other anyway? three years? four years? somethin'-years-too-many, more like! heh... ” it feels like an eternity ago, but atsumu can remember it still: the karasuno girl from the court sidelines, the one that was all antsy energy and bright eyes, having crossed paths with him now as two grown ups. their lives had only gotten busier in all the years since, and the offer he had made that day to take her out to eat had been left dormant all this time, unfulfilled. and what a shame that was, huh? but lookit here! the grace of an athlete being in an off-season and a graphic designer with a shred of free time… the stars have aligned themselves for a chance reunion, years in the making.
and what better way to celebrate the tying of loose ends than with good food?
…and when it comes to good food, it's obvious where he's gotta take her to. “ ooh, ya gotta try this one next! freshest tuna-mayo you'll ever taste, no kiddin'. ” each and every one he offers up to yachi seems to be 'the one she just has to try next'. meanwhile, osamu just stands there working, a small-smiled sentinel lining up the counter with freshly made rice balls. (he's certainly not complaining about the praise, and atsumu's deeefinitely not complaining about the entire bill being comped. it's a win-win for everyone! hurray!)
then the next one gets offered up, and this time, it's not his doing. atsumu's grin drops a bit when he sees he's the one being offered to this time, blinking at the rice ball held up by yachi's slender fingers. “ …well, ain't that nice? five star service, yacchan, don't mind if i do. aaaah! ” with that warm and easy reply out the way [and the refortification of his grin — 'cause he toootally didn't just get taken aback by the gesture], he leans in and takes that offered bite from her. quick and simple.
the flavors hit his senses all at once, and they do so really, really well! his eyes shut from an instinct bred from pure, simple delight. “ mmmmmh! shooo gooooood! ” (yes, he's speaking with his mouth full here. but 'samu's rice balls are just too good to remember things like manners!) “ ain't it good, yacchan?! y'tried this one yet? feels like… like the flavors are dancin' on my tongue, makin' it all tingly… or somethin'! almost makes ya wish he'd pick up cookin' alot sooner, don't it? hahahaaa… …haa…! ” oh... that feeling on his tongue, it's—
“ ⸻ AHHCK!!! IT'S— SO SPICY!! i'm dyin' over here!!!! ”
💐💐💐💐 angieeee beloved how are u. i hope ur well u remind me of boku in that sunshine type of way. take care!!!! 💗💓💞💕💝
i read this right when i woke up this morning for work n thought about it all throughout the day........ THANK U I LOVE U !!!!!!!!!!!
[ ✉️ ] @reienne: ∗ 33﹕ law hovers over aylen's shoulder as they complete a task.
...the polar tang hums quietly. it always does when it's at this depth— the low, constant vibrations of a submarine moving through these dark waters. quiet, unseen, yet still purposeful. and more importantly, undisturbed. just how he likes it.
he'd been moving through the ship with his mind elsewhere, occupied with thoughts of the more pressing events nearing the horizon, no doubt, when he comes across a sight that stops him. ...he hadn't intended to find her. aylen, with their back facing him, engrossed in a matter he can't identify from where he stands at the doorway.
for a moment, law just watches. it's enough time to notice the concentrated set of her shoulders, her absorption in the task she's focused on. and law knows that if aylen is this interested in something, then it's worth knowing for himself. probably.
...and, well. this is his ship. a ship's captain has every right to investigate and go where he pleases, doesn't he? which is why he doesn't bother to knock before he's crossing the distance already. without a word the entire way, even after he stops when he's right behind them. “ … ” (they're well past that stage anyway, he thinks... does he need to?)
the advantage of his height alone makes it easy to look over her shoulder now. a careful, dissecting look over. “ oi. aylen-ya. ” he can see everything his curiosity had urged him to, but even so, the way he leans in is a bit more deliberate. the cherry on top to show that he is, and has been, watching. “ what're you messing around with over here? anything you break, you fix, you know... or pay for. ”
atsumu and oikawa are great foils… but considering Them, do u think atsumu hates oikawa’s guts. i need ur thoughts
A HQ QUESTION TO RANT ABT IN THE BIG 2026.... WOAH! tl;dr before i start yapping: no, atsumu doesn't hate oikawa. not truly, despite what his verbal answer would be LMAOOO like if an interviewer asked: he'd for suuure say oikawa's the type of setter that he hates the most. and here's why...!
Bloodline by @bisphonate
𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 . ( a collection of 100 nonverbal action prompts . mature and potentially triggering themes are present . add “ + reverse ” to swap assigned roles . )
∗ o1﹕ sender tucks hair out of receiver’s face . ∗ o2﹕ sender offers receiver a bite from their fork . ∗ o3﹕ sender places their feet / legs in receiver's lap . ∗ o4﹕ sender offers receiver an earbud to share their music . ∗ o5﹕ sender comforts receiver in the aftermath of a nightmare . ∗ o6﹕ sender gives receiver company in the hospital . ∗ o7﹕ sender wraps their arms around a hysterical receiver to calm them . ∗ o8﹕ sender shows up at receiver’s home late at night . ∗ o9﹕ sender falls asleep leaning against receiver . ∗ 1o﹕ sender wields a [ gun / knife ] at receiver . ∗ 11﹕ sender runs their fingers through receiver’s hair . ∗ 12﹕ sender invites receiver to dance . ∗ 13﹕ sender takes a [ picture / video ] of receiver . ∗ 14﹕ sender places their head in receiver’s lap . ∗ 15﹕ sender and receiver make eye contact across a busy room . ∗ 16﹕ sender pushes receiver against a wall to kiss them . ∗ 17﹕ sender and receiver cook together . ∗ 18﹕ sender comes to receiver after being injured . ∗ 19﹕ sender sits in receiver’s lap . ∗ 2o﹕ sender lifts receiver's chin , invoking eye contact . ∗ 21﹕ sender overtakes receiver in combat . ∗ 22﹕ sender finds receiver [ injured / bloodied ] . ∗ 23﹕ sender straightens an article of receiver’s clothes . ∗ 24﹕ sender crawls into bed with receiver . ∗ 25﹕ sender rolls their eyes at receiver . ∗ 26﹕ sender lights receiver’s [ cigarette / joint ] . ∗ 27﹕ sender is caught wearing receiver's clothes . ∗ 28﹕ sender strikes receiver with a pillow . ∗ 29﹕ sender writes a note on receiver’s skin : [ note ] . ∗ 3o﹕ sender wraps a blanket around receiver’s shoulders . ∗ 31﹕ sender runs and jumps into receiver’s arms . ∗ 32﹕ sender shoves receiver out of anger . ∗ 33﹕ sender hovers over receiver’s shoulder as they complete a task . ∗ 34﹕ sender is found by receiver somewhere they shouldn’t be . ∗ 35﹕ sender curls up against receiver in their sleep . ∗ 36﹕ sender is found drunk by receiver . ∗ 37﹕ sender throws an item of sentiment bitterly at receiver . ∗ 38﹕ sender joins receiver in the shower . ∗ 39﹕ sender is caught following receiver . ∗ 4o﹕ sender traces one of receiver’s [ scars / bruises ] . ∗ 41﹕ sender twines their fingers with receiver’s . ∗ 42﹕ sender barges into receiver’s home unannounced . ∗ 43﹕ sender kicks receiver’s shin beneath a table . ∗ 44﹕ sender aggressively shoves past receiver . ∗ 45﹕ sender kisses receiver’s [ forehead / cheek ] . ∗ 46﹕ sender pulls receiver out of harm’s way . ∗ 47﹕ sender is found sobbing by receiver . ∗ 48﹕ sender locks receiver out of their room . ∗ 49﹕ sender brings receiver [ coffee / tea ] in the morning . ∗ 5o﹕ sender rests their forehead against receiver’s . ∗ 51﹕ sender plays a song for receiver that reminds them of them : [ song ] . ∗ 52﹕ sender takes a [ punch / stab / bullet ] meant for receiver . ∗ 53﹕ sender buys receiver a drink at a bar . ∗ 54﹕ sender needs receiver’s help getting in the bath . ∗ 55﹕ sender and receiver cross paths in the kitchen late at night . ∗ 56﹕ sender twists receiver’s arm behind their back . ∗ 57﹕ sender winks at receiver . ∗ 58﹕ sender is found collapsed by receiver . ∗ 59﹕ sender prevents an injured receiver from getting up . ∗ 6o﹕ sender claps a hand over receiver’s mouth to silence them . ∗ 61﹕ sender cages receiver against a [ wall / the floor ] with their arms . ∗ 62﹕ sender storms away from receiver during an argument . ∗ 63﹕ sender is found by receiver sleeping in receiver’s bed . ∗ 64﹕ sender [ applies / touches up ] receiver’s makeup . ∗ 65﹕ sender throws receiver into a wall during combat . ∗ 66﹕ sender dances sensually with receiver . ∗ 67﹕ sender strikes receiver across the face . ∗ 68﹕ sender places their hand on receiver’s leg while driving . ∗ 69﹕ sender pulls a chair out from under receiver . ∗ 7o﹕ sender catches receiver’s wrist when they turn to leave . ∗ 71﹕ sender leaves an intimate mark on receiver . ∗ 72﹕ sender beats receiver in a video game . ∗ 73﹕ sender and receiver stand in stunned silence after a fight . ∗ 74﹕ sender cares for receiver while they’re sick . ∗ 75﹕ sender and receiver go on a hike . ∗ 76﹕ sender is caught snooping in receiver’s things . ∗ 77﹕ sender and receiver cuddle while watching television . ∗ 78﹕ sender throws something aggressively at receiver . ∗ 79﹕ sender creeps up behind receiver to scare them . ∗ 8o﹕ sender and receiver go shopping together . ∗ 81﹕ sender helps receiver [ dye / style ] their hair . ∗ 82﹕ sender draws receiver into a kiss by the back of their neck . ∗ 83﹕ sender is discovered having a panic attack by receiver . ∗ 84﹕ sender accidentally injures receiver during sparring . ∗ 85﹕ sender grabs receiver roughly by the hair . ∗ 86﹕ sender brings receiver to their knees during combat . ∗ 87﹕ sender shows receiver evidence of a lie they told . ∗ 88﹕ sender winks [ seductively / mockingly ] at receiver . ∗ 89﹕ sender yells at receiver to put their hands in the air . ∗ 9o﹕ sender helps receiver patch up a wound . ∗ 91﹕ sender holds receiver as they cry . ∗ 92﹕ sender silently and angrily points receiver towards the door . ∗ 93﹕ sender gestures for receiver to sit down . ∗ 94﹕ sender pulls receiver into their lap . ∗ 95﹕ sender cradles receiver’s face . ∗ 96﹕ sender tackles receiver out of the way of danger . ∗ 97﹕ sender has hidden an injury from receiver , and receiver finds out . ∗ 98﹕ sender confronts receiver about their unhealthy behavior . ∗ 99﹕ sender proposes to receiver . ∗ 1oo﹕ sender has just died , receiver finds out .
Belobog is delightfully crowded: vibrant and loud in the way only a sole remaining city on a planet could be. Standing apart from it, Selassie brands the History and Culture Museum as her next point of interest, having come to the conclusion that standing on the sidewalk leaves her feeling like a sore thumb beside a set of otherwise healthy fingers. The faint bioluminescence beneath her skin is dimmed, carefully regulated against the sun that shines so differently here than...
...let's not think about that.
Expression twisting, her dubiety slowly bleeds into something sharper as she holds Sampo's gaze. “ Runaway? ” Surprise catches in her voice, quickly sharpening into something wary. “ Was that a reference to me? ” She knows him well enough to guess he’ll circle around what he said without addressing it— but even a silver-tongued salesman can do something contrary to his reputation. Today, he feels it right to pinpoint his intended meaning with smack-dab accuracy... and maximum impact.
Sampo's waving hand drifts to her peripheral vision as her back straightens on reflex, composure tightening as understanding dawns upon her. Her shock comes not from what he says, but from what he knows: knowledge she'd never spoken to anyone, certainly not to him. “ H-How did you—? ” All from a stutter, she lent his question more legitimacy than she wanted. Panic and propriety wars within her as Selassie considers how she could meet his humor with formality, especially with Silvermane Guards pouring into the town square en masse.
“ Of course not, @reunion! Your assertions are so immature... ” It brings her no comfort to know from what exactly he wanted impunity. Trying to force calm into every measured syllable, Selassie draws a hasty breath and reaches for his arm, looking around for a suitable escape point. “ You know this land better than I. Our best bet is to run. ”
“ good choice! ohh, now that's a good choice! ” and he means that in more ways than one: both at her quickness to run along with him, and at choosing to ignore her own burning curiosity for things he couldn't possibly know. thinking too hard on what sampo says or does is never a wise idea, unless you have the time to spare… but right now, save us both time and just don't question it!
“ that's my girl! just follow my lead, sister! i won't let those… citizens with well-intentioned but misplaced concerns wrap you up in all this. ” he sees her hand reach out to brace against his arm, and in turn moves to offer it... but not quite. sampo's gloved hand reaches out even quicker than hers and doesn't stop until he's carefully cupping her nose and mouth with a single palm. considerate and thoughtful when it comes to his buddies, always; especially since he's already fished out two smoke bombs with his other hand.
just as the guards come into their sights, the small bombs are tossed onto the ground. the crack, pop, and fizzle fills the air before the sudden burst of fog does— and right before it obfuscates their visage entirely, his grinning face is the last to fade from view... this isn't a game sampo's a beginner at playing. he knows these streets so well that it doesn't take much thought for him to already map out a quick getaway route!
in a fit of confused shouts from the guards, they'll eventually come out into the clear and find that the two are nowhere to be found. already further away by now, sampo's taken the lead of weaving selassie into the quiet shadows of belobog's buildings. “ now… before you think of your ol' pal as some no-good runaway criminal, maybe you could listen to my story first…? ”
SABO?????
COME MINGLE WITH MY REVOLUTIONARY!!!!!!!!!
they're meant to be together
can u write me a starter thx
using this ask to announce that pkmn au bokuto WILL be friends with rena. btw
All around her, the court hums with motion and noise: teammates calling mine! and nice kill! confidently, feet shuffling into position, and serving the ball upward into the air with precise touches. They send the ball snapping over the net one by one. Meanwhile, she's a step behind the rhythm, her arms not quite right, her timing just off, bearing witness to her attempts fall short while everyone keeps moving without trouble. Even when someone near her happens to screw up a serve or miss a toss, the reaction from their partner is either forgiveness or immediate, blunt criticism followed by an intense demand for a better set.
Maybe if she were a boy, she'd be able to take Atsumu's blame-shifting. Maybe. Maybe...
Her huff, sparked by the way his look and tone points the blame squarely at her, says what she's thinking enough: she's not a boy, and she's irritated as hell. But her irritation turns back on itself, too. The tight flare in her chest, like a tiny furnace igniting behind her ribs, tells her so. Each heartbeat hammers a reminder that she messed up, that she's messing up, and that she isn't measuring up to one, let alone two, people's expectations. Her stomach twists with it, and her thoughts ping back and forth, blaming herself, blaming him, berating herself, berating him, simmering each time.
Torn between not wanting to leave him hanging and feeling pressed for time, Yukako shoots back, “ I can spike with my left and right hand. Practice is just me flipping between arms fast enough to hit the ball before it even lands. ” Niiyama's positively miffed wing spiker glances at him after a moment, catching his deceivingly nonchalant smirk, and realizes she sounded sharper than she meant. Sharper than she wanted to convey, more like.
Determined to shove her defeatist streak aside, she takes kindly to Atsumu's offer of a reset and straightens up. “ Okay. I'll stick to just my left hand— ” Yukako answers, running a comforting finger along the underside of her hairline. “ —if that works better for you, @reunion. ”
“ oh? ” well, color atsumu surprised. …except not entirely, since the whole reason for an hour's long failure of a practice session was because she'd switch her hands all freely. “ so you're one of those ambi-somethin's? huh… ain't that neat. ” taking into account that half-smirk of his probably reads his response as completely insincere, but a small part of him thinks that it's actually… a little cool! in the right person's hands, at least. definitely not with all these missed shots scattered around them on the floor. nope.
what matters is that the olive branch he had extended towards her is taken. (though he's fightin' with a small urge to comment on that 'if it works better for you' remark. but if he starts now, it'll never end between them, will it?) “ just what i wanted to hear. we're startin' from scratch now, so try and lock in, 'kay? ” well… that aforementioned urge wins yet again. just a little.
another volleyball is taken from their cart of dwindling supply. it's the heaviness against all ten of his fingers that he's most familiar with, the same shape and texture that he knows by heart. standing here on the court is a feeling you just can't top, and yukako's a challenge he's not backing down from. because at the all-japan youth camp, you either prove your worth or get knocked out the way.
which one will you be, then?... the few steps are taken to assume the proper distance of a toss, and his tongue pokes out in a display of pure concentration. —c'monnn… show me you even deserve to be here.
A Moment Among the Stars — The Destiny of Each New Dawn
Inherently cruel and divided between those who rule and those who suffer, the world was rotten at its core and the tragedy of Flevance was proof of it. Its citizens were the most recent example of weak people being culled, back then, and Trafalgar Law was something he acquired from the wreckage: a rare, useful piece that emerged from chaos. Weathered by escape, hollowed by loss, and bearing visible symptoms of the Amber Lead disease. Disasters never carried meaning on their own. People with power were the ones who assigned it afterward. No older than 10 years old, @reunion stood before him as... a survivor to be pitied? No. As a singular yield of catastrophe, a life refined by suffering into something of worth, because Doflamingo deemed it so.
Over the nearly two decades that put them at the current moment, now a pirate kingpin manipulating entire nations, Doflamingo considered Flevance's massacre—- framed as containment—- a perfect illustration of the idea that righteousness was defined by the winners. Was justice done? To some, yes. Was injustice done? Well, the same answer would be said by some others. ...What does the winner say?
LAW: THAT IS WHERE YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN WRONG ABOUT ME.
Always treating defiance as naïveté, The King of Dressrosa smiles.
“ Oh? ” Look at Law, trying to sound profound! His words prompted far more than mere amusement; it was the spark that ignited his signature laugh, both predatory and mocking. He pushes back immediately with a sharpened grin, testing the sword wielder's claim and already preparing to dismantle his response. “ And what exactly did I misunderstand? ”
…like everything law handled, he did so with surgical precision. the rocky port incident and the exchange of a hundred hearts had granted him the warlord status he needed. punk hazard followed after, and had given him the leverage and the hostage; two more important playing cards in his waiting hand.
each one served its purpose as a step in a long, intricate plan until he arrived here at last. the apex— to stand on the same playing field that doflamingo dominates. a separation of thirteen years has come to an end and it's the furthest thing from a heartfelt reunion, but it's exactly where law needed himself to reach.
this isn't a clash between two pirates fighting for status or territory. this isn't the rebellious phase of a kid lashing out at an adult who, for a time, took him in. this is… the ending of what started thirteen years ago, in a snow-laden land.
“ …i heard it from the two you sent to punk hazard. right after they sneered at me about my 'betrayal', they said that you've been saving the heart seat just for me. ” his head tilts, and the shadows cast by the brim of his hat shed away to reveal his expression more. what's shown is a grin, mocking and sharp: a surgeon who's found just the nerve he intends to slice into. “ i guess your precious family isn't the fortress you think it is, if they're that quick to spill your secrets the minute things get ugly. ”
the question for clarification is so out of touch with law's very reality that it's beyond what it means to be insulting. the delusion to believe that there exists even a glimmer of a chance that he'd ever accept a title like that was even more so. to everyone else, the heart seat is… the prized and illustrious right-hand position of the one and only joker. to law, the heart seat is… the one open wound he could never truly heal.
how could he ever explain something that doflamingo would just never understand? the world is rotten and cruel at its core, but there's still people with good hearts that'll show you that you don't have to be, too. “ do you really think… after everything he did for me… that i would ever do that to him? ”
❛ ▌┊𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 : phainon ( @reunion ) .
❝ phainon? ❞ for the span of a second, aglaea fears the worst. ❝ phainon. ❞ she shakes him once, twice, and finally a third time before she sees signs of alertness. the chrysos heir didn't even realise she was holding her breath until he moved. her relief came in a shaky exhale, which she quickly tries to cover with a teasing remark. ❝ i can't imagine a nap in the baths is particularly prudent. should i presume you passed out or — ❞ was it a nightmare?
—awareness comes back in a jolt. steam and humid air, wet ceramic against skin where he had been sitting so perfectly still, the scent of bath oils: these senses envelop him when his mind is stirred awake by her concern. “ …huh? oh— ” senses aside, then… there's aglaea herself.
“ haha… did i really fall asleep here? ” a sheepish start. he smiles boyishly and raises a hand to rub at the dampened locks behind his head, as obvious and telltale as any blaring thing. “ my apologies, aglaea. this… definitely isn't my most dignified moment. ” the baths are relaxing, yes, but the aches in his muscles have nothing to do with the warmth and tranquility of the bathhouse. the prophecies and hardships heading their way won't wait for moments of idle peace to pass. so, neither does he.
…but he doesn't mention this. it does no good admitting to overexerting oneself, does it? even less so if it'd worry her. “ in my defense, you do make it incredibly difficult not to feel so at peace here. the baths you maintain rival none, after all! tell me, are these new bath oils...? ”
