#like when u feed a stray cat once and it starts following u around | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

otakusheep15 · 3 years

Text

SFW Alphabet - Satan

I had a really hard time trying to get Satan’s character right, so I hope I did a good job with this one

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s not super affectionate, physical, verbal, or otherwise. Really, that’s just a side-effect of him being born from pure wrath. He simply just can’t express emotions very well. You’ll most likely have to initiate any affection if you want it. However, he does also like when you lay your head on his lap and he reads to you since it doesn’t require much.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He’s the mom friend for sure. He helps you with anything you may need from studying to pranks. Of course, he does also make sure you both make it out of any trouble unscathed. I also lowkey see him as the type to carry around random snacks to feed strays he comes across, and he’ll give some to you so that you can also feed the strays.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Like I said, affection isn’t his strong suit, so cuddling isn’t really his thing. The closest he’ll get to cuddling is either you two sitting next to each other on the bed/couch or with him sitting up and you laying on his lap. He may also pat your head like you’re a cat. There might also be reading involved if he’s awake enough to read out loud to you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does like the idea of settling down, but he’s unsure if he really can. Yes, he can do basic household chores like cooking and cleaning, but he feels as though he couldn’t handle the more emotional side of settling down. Doing something like that means you truly love the person you’re with and he’s afraid that he might not have the emotional capacity to feel that strongly about someone. Then you came along and destroyed all of that nonsense. Now he wants nothing more than to drag you away and live out a romance just like in his favorite books.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

There would most likely be a lot of yelling. Also lots of things being thrown around in rage. When he’s mad, he’s mad, and a breakup is a great way to get him mad. If he’s the one initiating it, he’ll try to keep a level head, but that solely depends on how the other person reacts. If they’re also calm, then it’ll be pretty civil and respectful, and they might even stay friends after. However, if the other person starts getting mad, that only makes him worse and it does not get better for that other person.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Before you? He never even considered the idea. After you? That’s practically all he can think about. You know that one friend we all have that constantly gushes over sappy romance stories and constantly wishes how that could live them out with their partner? Yeah, that’s him. He’ll never admit that out loud though. The only one who actually knows about all of his fantasies are Asmo because he once walked in on him comparing you to this one character from a romance novel he liked (kinda like Levi with his anime).

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He knows how dangerous he can be. Not only is he a demon, and a powerful at that, but he also the literal embodiment of wrath. Even after years of keeping up his gentlemanly facade, all it takes is the slightest inconvenience to set him off. So he’s extra careful around you. Physically, he tries not to get to close to you, especially when he’s pissed off. Verbally, he tries to watch his language around you because he doesn’t want to hurt you by saying anything mean.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

His hugs are extremely rare but surprisingly nice. Since he’s scared he might hurt you by accident, and his lack of need for physical affection, he doesn’t hug you very often. However, they are super relaxing when they do happen. He hugs you just tight enough to keep you pressed to his body, but not so tight that it’s uncomfortable.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Out of all the brothers, he one of the last ones to say it. He’s not all the familiar with the concept of love, especially in romantic context. Obviously, he knows how it feels in theory, but he can hardly figure it out in practice. The worst part is that he knows he loves you, but he has no clue how to go about it. When he does finally say it, he seems perfectly calm and collected, but he’s internally screaming the whole time. You’ll never know.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Surprisingly, he’s not one to get jealous easily. One of the benefits of having a poor grasp on emotions maybe? Whatever the case, he always tends to take a more logical approach to things, relationships included. He knows that you’re loyal to him and so he trusts you. If he has any reason to be jealous, then he’ll talk to you and workout any problems or concerns.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses can go one of two ways. They can 1) be the softest, most romantic kisses you’ve ever felt in your life, or 2) the most heated and passionate kisses you’ve ever felt in your life. Literally no in between. The former will usually happen during softer moments of bliss. Maybe you two were just in his room and relaxing or in the library studying. The latter only ever happens during more ~spicy~ times *wink wink*.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He hates kids. That’s it. He hates them. They’re such a hassle, they need constant supervision and care, and they never shut up. He is a firm believer in children being the worst creatures in all the three realms.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He always wakes up first no matter what. He’ll go down to the kitchen and make you a cup of tea, but that’s only when you guys don’t have school. If you do have school, he’ll wake you up as gently as possible and help you get ready.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He’ll usually drag you to hs room so that you two can spend the evening reading together. Sometimes you end up sitting next to each other and reading your own books, others you may end up in his lap while he reads to you. You mostly end up falling sleep first, and he’ll follow soon after.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

This boy is the definition of closed off. It does not matter how close you are to him or how much he trusts you, he will never tell you anything. Okay, he does tell you some things, but only surface level stuff. If you want the real, honest answers he has, you need to pry them out yourself.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Lmao what’s patience? Seriously though, he actually has a decent amount of patience. He trained himself really hard in order o control his anger, so he can actually be pretty chill for the most part. Obviously, he still gets mad all the time, especially with Lucifer, but he does try his best.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’s totally the type to write down facts about you in a secret journal somewhere so that he can reference it later. He has a great memory, but he loves just writing down everything you tell him about yourself just in case he forgets anything. He will never tell you or anyone else about the journal, but if anyone finds out, they will never be heard from again.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He isn’t one to have any particular moment in mind, but he absolutely treasures those quiet moments when you two are alone. No brothers to bother you, plenty of books and snacks, and just each others presence. It’s quiet, calm and peaceful. These moments don’t happen very often due to the chaos around you, so when they do happen it’s special. Just being able to spend time with you is his favorite thing in all three worlds.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is arguably one of the most protective brothers, and that’s saying something. The second someone even hints at hurting you, they’re dead. They just cease to exist. He will not let a single thing harm his precious human, and he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure your safety. He’d even go so far as to get himself in trouble if it means getting you out of it.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He’s much more casual than most of his brothers, so he doesn’t see the need in planning over-the-top dates. Obviously, he wants you to be happy no matter what, but he knows he doesn’t need extravagant dates to make that happen. I mean, if you like things like that he’ll certainly try for you, but it’s just not his style. He prefers causal, lowkey dates. Coffee shop dates, going to bookstores together, sitting in his or your room and reading all day, and going out to play with the stray cats are all ideal dates for him. He just knows that, as long as you two are together, everything is already perfect.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Obviously, he has some issues he needs to work out. His anger issues are, of course, the main issue, but that also leads into other problems. For example, his daddy issues hatred for Lucifer is something he needs to get sorted out. He also has a hard time expressing his true feelings for fear of letting his anger out as well. Most of his issues are emotional, so he needs a lot of time to work on them.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not so much concerned with physical appearance so much as social appearance. he is highly concerned about how he looks to the public. If he needs to look physically appealing in order to keep a good social standing, then he’ll do it. He’s not vain like Asmo or Mammon, but he’d be quick to put more into his appearance if it means he gains something out of it socially.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Honestly, he’s felt incomplete since being born, so even with you he doesn’t feel quite complete. You definitely help fill some of that void he has in him, but not even you can fix him completely. If you did leave him, he’d be back at square one, so he needs you to be there in order to make him feel even the slightest bit more whole.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

As I stated before, I think he keeps a journal of all of your interests so that he can remember then, but I think it goes deeper than that. I also think he has one for each of his brothers that he keeps on him. Any time one of his brothers mentions something they like, he’ll write it down to keep it for later. That way, if an occasion (birthday, anniversary, etc.) that would require this information would ever arise, he would already have it written down. No one knows about these, and he’ll take this secret to his grave.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He refuses to even acknowledge someone without even the slightest bit of academic prowess. If he deems you to be stupid, you’ll never even hear from him again. He also cannot stand people who dislike cats.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He has a tendency to move around a lot when he sleeps. No one has any clue as to why, but it’s not really a problem. That is until you two start sleeping together. He either ends up on top of you or kicking you out of the bed. In the morning, he’ll apologize, but it’s not something he can really fix.

#OBEY ME #shall we date obey me #shall we date satan #sfw alphabet #scenarios #headcanon

87 notes · View notes

littlemissagrafina · 3 years

Text

A Man And His Bots

A look into the relationship and care between Tony and his bots and A.I's.

Read on AO3

Tony had people issues. Everyone knew it. He knew it.

People were foreign to him, they had been ever since he was young. He just couldn't understand them.

No, that was wrong, he could understand them, it just wasn't always easy to do and more often than not it was exhausting to even try. Sure, there were some people he understood, his mom, Jarvis, and even Howard. Tony could understand him easily. It didn't take a genius to know that the elder Stark disliked, even hated, his son at times.

The tears and occasional bruises left on Tony's skin were a testament to that fact.

Anyone other than his mother and Jarvis were almost a trial to talk to and to be around. It made the social networking at events that he was pushed into by his parents that much more unbearable for Tony.

The dinners, gala's, and charity events were some of the most draining nights in Tony's young life that he could remember. They always left him longing to be back in his room with his tools and various pieces of metal and machinery.

Maria and Jarvis understood his need to be alone and in the quiet of his own little world, but Howard hated it. Oh, he hated it. But usually if Tony had behaved well enough through what felt like the hundredth event in the space of a month, the man would turn a reluctant blind eye to the nights that his wife and Jarvis would help Tony sneak out to the quiet solitude of his room.

Tony grew to miss those nights where they would help him escape once he was shipped off to boarding school on his father's command. At least finishing senior year by fifteen had left him without many friends, either due to jealousy, bullying, or his own unwillingness to socialise.

Most of them had been after his money and status anyway, a hard fact Tony had had to face when the rare times of loneliness forced him to attempt a friendship with anyone. Eventually he stopped caring to try, and he spent his lonely nights as he always had, with tools, scraps, and blueprints.

It was thanks to those nights the the rudimentary start of his own A.I and been birthed, the work and escape it provided lasting right into his first year at MIT where, much to his surprise, he seemed to have formed what he thought could be a genuine friendship with his roommate.

James Rhodes. Or Rhodey as Tony had taken to calling him. In the beginning the older teen had come across as a stuck up, goody two shoes. Over time, he had proven to have a fun and mischievous side that matched perfectly to Tony's own as they grew closer.

Although Tony had grown attached to his Honeybear, it didn't take away from the many, many times he needed his own space and a quiet retreat; a fact that Rhodey understood just as Maria and Jarvis had, something that took Tony by endless surprise.

Rhodey showed Tony an unused room near the campus labs, explaining that it was once meant to be an extension of a separate lab but had never been pulled properly into the plans and curriculum. As such, it had been forgotten in a way.

It was the perfect room for Tony to turn into his own getaway, and one that Rhodey had even helped him set up with a couple spare benches and tables they found in the storage rooms, soon filling it with other things such as a random couch they found in perfect condition outside a frat house, some equipment for Tony’s inventing, and other stray items they collected over time.

It was in this room that Dumm-E whirred fully to life, finally sentient and real.

And Tony loved him.

---

Eventually U would join Dumm-E in the "brotherhood of bots" as Tony called them even though there were only two of them.

He wasn't quite sure how it happened (if at all), sometimes even imagined if he was just reading too much into it, but Tony swore that his little bots seemed to express emotions at times.

There were little whirs that they emitted when he would power them up or if they were on when he entered a room. They almost felt like greetings to Tony.

There was also the panicked beeping at the numerous fires Tony would inevitably cause, or when he injured himself in the lab. Of course, followed by their more often than not misshapen attempts and trying to help him with said fire or injury.

Tony didn't think he'd ever be able to leave a fire extinguisher safely in their keep but he still continued to try.

There were other instances that made him question the emotional range of the little A.I's he'd made, but it was their greetings and "helpful" times that always managed to warm his heart.

They weren't people, but they were his and he could understand them.

And he hoped the bots somehow knew how much he cared for them in turn.

---

It was after Jarvis' death that Tony truly became dependent on his creations. Sure, he'd needed them after his parent's death, just like he'd always needed his tinkering, inventing, and whatever other techy think he was doing at that time.

But Jarvis' death… it broke him in a way that Howard and Maria's hadn't been able to. If he felt like it, Tony could probably wonder the reasoning behind it, if it was because of the clear difference in affection, care, and feeling of responsibility that the man held rather than what Howard or Maria had. But he didn't feel like it.

It was listening to a recording of a voicemail that Jarvis had sent him during college that gave Tony the idea.

Locking himself in his lab, he hunted down every other voicemail or video he could get his hands on, typed code until his fingers cramped, and downed coffee until his legs were buzzing.

Rhodey knocking on his door in an attempt to curb his friend's self-destructive tendencies was flat out ignored, each call and voicemail not heard.

It continued until his single minded grief and need to create and to fix was softened and his work complete.

The most advanced A.I known to man was created, and Tony's loneliness and grief had someplace to go.

Jarvis was reborn.

---

The familiar safety and retreat of the bodyless British voice stayed with Tony for so many years. It was there through his many tabloid rises and falls, his numerous parties, one night stands and two week girlfriends.

It was there for his breakdowns, his breakdowns, and retreating from the world around him.

He was there before Afghanistan and once again after. Through Iron Man being born, through Obie's betrayal, the palladium, avengers, Killian.

All of it and Jarvis was there. Sure Tony had people to lean on, to love. He had Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy, but Dumm-E, U, and Jarvis were different.

The A.I had slowly become an entity to Tony. He wasn't just an animated voice anymore, he was the legacy of the man who was once practically his father.

And it was only so fitting that he experience the grief and loss of the man twice.

When Ultron happened and Jarvis was destroyed, Tony felt as if he went into a blanket of shock, only feeling and grieving once he was fully alone. And dammit did he grieve.

It manifested in anger first, and when that faded, it moved to sadness. A deep aching sadness reminiscent of his first loss. He hated it, loathed it, and wished he had the same outlet he had had for the first death.

But didn't he?

What was stopping him from creating it again? But not another Jarvis. Tony couldn't do this again, but what if he created another A.I? One separate from Jarvis and his meaning?

So he got to work, alone with his bots and once again spinning his grief into lines of code.

This time, a sister for Dumm-E and U was born. A spunky, Irish A.I with a similar proclivity for sarcasm to what her predecessor held.

"Lights on, baby girl. We've got work to do."

---

Just as Tony had grown to need Dumm-E and U, how he had needed Jarvis, he needed Friday too.

He supposed it sounded strange to regular people, the way he was more comfortable around his creations than around most of the human population, but to him it wasn't unlike the way people would gravitate towards animals, or books, or art.

It was easy for Tony. It was a comfort to him in the same way having a cat on your lap or a dog across your feet was, just in a different, mechanical or technical form.

The constant presence of Friday in his lab and his suits and his home was important to Tony. The strange alliance and comradery they had formed once again boosting the feeling of curiosity and care towards the emotions his creations had developed.

It was something he cherished, something he needed.

She wasn't Jarvis, but she had helped him and been with him in his times of need since she had been born, and Tony knew her and the bots would be there, still, in many times to come.

"Drop my needle, Fri. And show me Peter's patrol feed too, would'a?"

"Right away, boss."

#tony stark #iron man #jarvis #dumm-e #U #Friday #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #tony stark protection squad

37 notes · View notes

chaseatinydream · 3 years

Text

sleazy seonghwa who sneezes (i) || p.sh (atz)

➳ pairing: reader x park seonghwa (ateez)

➳ word count: 7146

➳ genre: badboy au; fluff

➳ synopsis: by the intervention of fate (namely Choi San), you see a different side to the school’s resident bad boy that you weren’t aware existed.

>>>

Park Seonghwa is, decidedly, what most of the school population would call a bad boy.

With his jet black lip piercing and dyed blonde hair that is clearly in rebellion against every dress code in school, he’s exactly the sort of boy your parents warn you against. The black leather jacket he wears in place of his uniform tie and blazer doesn’t really help his image at all, and you’re sure you’ve seen him step into school at precisely twelve in the afternoon from the window of your classroom, long after lessons have started.

You’ve known Seonghwa for a long time, since elementary school, back in the days when his hair was still its natural shade of soft ebony and his lips curved up in a soft smile instead of the thin, sharp line it does now. With silent eyes you’ve observed him over the years, watching as the death of his mother struck him as hard as a speeding car and doing a million times the damage, witnessing his transformation from the boy with the cute, candy like smile to the young man with hard, cold eyes and even steelier fists.

A few years, your heart broke for him as you watched him turn away from the light and walk into the shadows without a backwards glance, casting his life away into a hopeless abyss. But as time passed, the memory of that young, lost boy reaching out for his mother’s hand faded, replaced by bruised and bleeding knuckles, split lips and cold eyes.

You had stopped keeping track of how many piercings he’d gotten when you couldn’t count them on your fingers anymore.

Students whisper about him behind closed doors every time he passes them in the corridor, citing unknown sources and rumours about smoking, gang fights, drugs, the usual deal. Girls chatter mindlessly about his good looks, he’s strikingly handsome, you have to admit, but his arctic gaze is enough to keep them at least five feet away. No one dares to cross him, not even the teachers and school authority, and honestly, it’s a miracle he’s still even in this school.

He’s part of a circle of friends the school calls ATEEZ. Their leader, Kim Hongjoong, has kept his mullet for the last three years of high school, completely ignoring the repeated warnings that the school gives him, because who dares to touch him anyway as the eldest son of one of the richest men in Korea? Some you know by face, some by name, but you’ve never met, much less talked to any of them before. Instead, you keep your distance, not wanting to be mixed up in their troubles when they come roaring into school with jet black motorbikes, smirks and bruised fists.

It’s been exactly six years since Seonghwa’s mother passed, and you’re walking to school in the morning. Your earbuds are plugged in, the radio’s on and you’re just listening mindlessly to anything that comes over the station, scrolling through your Instagram feed. Oh. San is considering adopting his third stray cat, the ‘vote yes or no’ option beneath his story.

You click ‘no’, your best friend already has two stray cats and a Shiba Inu in his house, and Shiber is terrified of the felines. It’s a miracle how Shiber even got used to Darong and Puchi, but you doubt that he’ll get used to yet another stray invading his personal territory.

Turning and entering the back gate, you’re stepping across the grounds to your classroom block when your phone suddenly pings with a flurry notifications.

It can only be one person.

[Green Mountain] how could u not let me adopt yobu hes gonna be so sad u know TT

[Green Mountain] retribution on you and your kids and your grandkids and your great grandkids

[Green Mountain] why are we even friends

You roll your eyes, feet crunching on the dry leaves under the soles of your shoes as you type out a reply.

[You] What’s the point of asking for my opinion if you’ve already named him and adopted him San

You’re nearing the back of the school building when you hear a sniffing sound. You pause in your tracks for a moment, wondering if someone is crying from the stress of the exams that are coming in a week, before a soft achoo reaches your ears.

You barely have time to be surprised before the little sneeze is followed by a rapid series of more, each sounding more adorable to your ears than the ones before. There’s another sniffle and a sneeze, and you can’t help your lips curving up in a smile. Perhaps spending too much time around San has made you soft, but you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

You fish out a handkerchief from your pocket, since it’s the first day of the week, you haven’t used it yet. The person behind the noise must have gotten a cold from the chilly autumn weather, so you think they might appreciate the gesture. Stepping up the stairs to your classroom block, you turn the corner around the building with your handkerchief outstretched and a gentle smile already in place.

“Hey, I heard you were sneezing so I thought you might want this...” Your voice trails off as your eyes widen, seeing the infamous Park Seonghwa leaning against the wall, hand over his mouth and nose, your own shock mirrored on his face.

For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other in stunned silence.

You’ve always admired him in the same way people appreciate statues in art museums, from afar, studying each and every feature but never quite understanding the full story behind the carved jawline, the sculpted nose, the mysterious dark eyes. But this is the first time you’re seeing him up close in the dappled morning rays, someone so far away and untouchable, and you see the flaws that mar what you had once thought was near perfect skin, a bruise at the corner of his mouth, a scrape on his cheekbone, the white scar across his left eyebrow.

His handsome features pinch into a wary scowl when he sees you, straightening up his originally relaxed position against the wall. You’re a little intimidated by his height as he towers over you by at least a head, giving you a dark glare. “Get out of my sight. I don’t need your help-” The words are cut off by a massive sneeze that sends him burying his face in his hands, before he starts hacking furiously, alternating between adorable sneezes and baby-like coughs.

A snort escapes you before you can stop it and he actually pauses to give you a murderous look, right before he goes back to sneezing.

Oh my god, you think in your panic induced haze, he’s going to kill you to stop rumours of his childlike sneeze from spreading around the school.

You fight down the urge to laugh in this terrifying situation, instead focusing on the predicament you’re in. You’re trapped between a rock and a hard place, right before a person with one of the most feared and sordid reputations in the entire school. Give him the handkerchief and risk his anger, or leave without lending him a hand and still perhaps bring his wrath down upon you?

In the end, you simply do what you had set out to do in the first place.

“Here!” You practically shout in his face, trying to muster as much courage as possible so your voice doesn’t tremble, but it betrays you anyway in spite of your efforts. Thrusting the white handkerchief into his hands, you do some sort of awkward bow before the idea can run through your mind fully and your face turns tomato red in embarrassment. “I hope you get better soon!”

And then you spin on your heel and dash into the classroom block before you can die from shame of it all.

“Hey, wait-” Seonghwa calls after you, but you’re already gone, leaving nothing but your white handkerchief in his hand.

“You’re late today.” San remarks in a surprised voice when you slide into the seat next to his, panting for air from your little dash to class.

“I was lending someone a handkerchief. And you’re early.” You turn to the window, making a big show of searching the sky. “I don’t see any pigs, falling or flying… so I must be dreaming.”

“Well, I had to come early to school so my chauffeur could fetch Yobu back to the mansion for me.” Your best friend remarks with a shrug, and a silly, goofy smile crosses his face for a moment at the thought of the adorable one eared ragdoll cat. “I couldn’t leave him waiting here in the cold.”

“I swear the reason all these cats relate so much to you is because of this.” You tug at the thick leather choker resting against his throat, fingers brushing the cool metal of the round, silver studs on it. “If we just add a bell to this, you might as well be an actual cat, Sanie.”

Your best friend merely grins, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you expectantly. “And I suppose that’s…?”

Laughing, you pull a small cardboard box from your school bag, opening it and presenting it to San proudly. It’s a small silver bell, one that reminds you of one on a cat’s collar. The moment you had laid eyes on it at the mall, you had known it would be perfect for him. You gesture for his arm and he stretches it out to you with an amused smile on his face, your fingers fiddling with the friendship bracelet on his wrist. Undoing the clasp, you slide the silver piece onto the bracelet with nimble fingers where it rests next to the Siamese cat charm, the bell making a soft jingling sound.

“Ooh, pretty!” San inspects it with shining eyes, smiling broadly at you. He then takes out his own box, a red jewelry affair with the name of some expensive brand stamped on the lid in bright silver. Your breath catches in your throat as you catch a glimpse of it, the box is probably worth more than the entire charm you bought San.

“Sanie, you know I don’t like it when you buy me stuff like that…”

Your best friend pauses in opening the box, mouth turning down in a sad frown as he looks at you with earnest eyes. “But I want to do it for you. You’re my best friend, and I want to spend my money on you to show you how important you are to me.” You waver at his words, heart sinking as you feel like you’re making use of him for his wealth. But you know San is determined, and besides, he’s already bought the charm, so you sigh and try to fix him with a stern gaze.

“This is the last time, alright?”

San’s face cheers up in a split second.

“Alright!” He whoops, putting the charm of a Norwegian Forest Cat on your bracelet. It feels heavy, probably made of silver and custom made to boot. It’s been your tradition for the last two years of school. Every day, on the first day of a new semester, the two of you had promised to buy each other a charm to celebrate your friendship. Somehow, every charm the two of you had bought for you had ended up being some breed of cat, so you suppose that you’ve broken tradition for the first time today by giving him a bell instead. When San fixes the clasp of your bracelet, he grins at you and pats you on the head.

“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

You kick him in the shin. “I said this is the last time, you goof. Don’t go getting any ideas.”

San pouts at you, shaking his head so that his dark brown hair falls into his eyes, showing off the red streaks in them. Your eyes widen in alarm and smack him on the arm as he lounges back in his chair casually, placing his booted feet on the table. “I thought I told you to get rid of those last week before school started!”

Your best friend whistles cheerily, feigning ignorance. “I promised nothing.”

San, for all the adorableness he holds, is too, part of ATEEZ. A certified bad boy, a definite troublemaker. Everything on him, from the designer white shirt with scrawled designs all over it to the multiple silver piercings in his ears to the striking red coat he has slung over his chair, screams rebel in response to every dress code in existence. San rebels, but he at least does it with style.

On the first day of school when the two of you been assigned to seats next to each other in class, the very first thing he’d done upon meeting you was to rip off his tie and declare to you loudly about how the colour scheme of the tie was absolutely hideous when matched with the shade of the blazer. He had then proceeded to rant to you all about the material of the blazer and the undershirt, and you don’t think you’ve seen him in uniform since that day.

Well, you suppose he knows what he’s talking about, considering that he’s the heir to one of the biggest fashion conglomerates in the country. Besides, you’ve stolen that red coat more times you can count on cold days and it often spends the night over at your house when San makes you wear it home.

“What kind of name for a cat is Yobu, though?” You ask San, shaking your head at him as the teacher walks into the classroom. He simply grins at you, tweaking one of his many earrings with amusement.

“A friend of mine chose it-” He begins to explain excitedly, but then your teacher clears her throat in front of the two of you hesitantly and San’s expression darkens, looking up to glance at her as if she’s a pesky fly he’d like to smack. The teacher’s face drains of colour.

“What is it, Ms Kim?” His voice is dripping with venom and you feel your face flush at his bad attitude. You tug on his ear and he yelps in pain, turning back to pout at you.

“Ow! Why are you bullying me?” San sulks like a little kid and you can’t help but swat at his arm. The teacher, drawing a little courage from seeing San being steamrolled into submission by you, pipes up.

“Mr Choi… you’re not supposed to be sitting there-”

That’s her mistake.

San’s eyes turn glacial as he turns to face her slowly, gazing down his nose at her imperiously, dangerously like a cobra waiting to strike. San isn’t loud and quick to anger like some of his other friends are, but he’s no less dangerous with that vicious, poisonous mind of his. The teacher falls silent immediately, none of the other students willing to help her out lest they get on his bad side.

“I’ve said it at the beginning of term and I’ll say it again.” San enunciates every word slowly and precisely, his dark gaze never wavering from the teacher’s eyes. You can almost imagine it, a monstrous serpent like aura looming behind your best friend, frightening everyone before him into submission. You’ve never been on the receiving end of his gaze, but you hear people describing the experience to be akin to staring down the barrel of a gun. “I’m sitting besides her and no one else. Did you not hear me the first time?”

“Mr Choi, I’m just doing my job-”

“Do. You. Understand.”

His last words are nothing like a question, instead carrying a more mocking tone. The threat is like a loaded gun, the bullet unseen and hidden in the chambers of the weapon, but the finger is already resting on the trigger, eager to fire. Your teacher pales at his words, fingers trembling against her binder.

You feel bad for her, so you gently tug at San’s sleeve, pulling his razor sharp gaze away from your teacher. “Hey, San, I’m not going anywhere. How about you start thinking about ways we can get Shiber to warm up to Yobu when we go over to your house later while I have lessons?”

His face brightens right away, the icy look melting right off like snow in the summer at the thought of Yobu and Shiber playing together. “Of course! Why didn’t I think about that?” Pulling a piece of paper from your bag, he swipes one of the pens off your table and begins jotting down ideas and names of cat treats. His attention off the teacher, the entire classroom heaves a simultaneous sigh of relief.

Your teacher takes five minutes to calm her racing heart before the lesson begins.

Seonghwa sits at the bench at the school gates, waiting for the rest of his friends.

Golden and red leaves spiral through the air, caught and tossed around by the autumn winds as they flutter to the ground like clipped butterfly wings. They fall to the ground, devoid of the green freshness of spring, dead and utterly lifeless. He remembers the limp hand of his mother, her fair skin drenched in crimson lifeblood, the drunk driver having crashed right into the side of his mother’s car as she returned home from buying him supper. She’d died on the spot, right before any the ambulances and paramedics arrived.

His fingers curl around the dry maple leaves, crushing them and scattering them with the wind. He hates the autumn. All it brings is death and pain.

“Hyung!”

He’s pulled from his thoughts and turns around to see three of the five 99’ liners stepping out of the school gates, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. A smile crosses his face briefly. No matter how terrifying of an image he might have to others, he has a soft spot for the rest of the boys in ATEEZ. All of them have stuck together through thick and thin, supporting each other no matter the struggle, Wooyoung through his addiction and Jongho through his fits of violent rage, Hongjoong with his familial conflicts at home and so much more. They’re like family to him, he briefly wonders, before his eyes darken at the thought of his drunken father back in the house they share.

He forces the thought from his mind, instead looking upon his friends’ faces, frowning in confusion.

“Why are you smiling so much, Sanie?”

The boy in question merely grins wider, tucking his hands into his pockets as he dodges a kick Wooyoung aims at him. “Wooyoungie tripped on Mingi’s shoe and fell down the stairs earlier.”

Mingi stifles a laugh at Wooyoung’s flat expression.

The sleeves of San’s white shirt are rolled up, showing the cat charm bracelet dangling from his wrist. The silver bits and bobs usually tinkle and jingle, letting everyone in the area that San is coming, but today, the sound seems to be especially prominent. Seonghwa’s eyes rake over the charms, counting five, six, seven…

He spots a silver cat bell dangling at the end.

“Did you get a new charm, San?” Seonghwa asks, curious and San nods proudly, preening in front of his hyung. The bell jingles once more, as if showing off to Seonghwa.

“She got it for me!” He smiles widely, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. San doesn’t need to say who it is for Seonghwa to know. Aside from ATEEZ, San has no friends… except a mysterious girl that San doesn’t want mixed up in their business.

“Can’t have Wooyoung seducing her from me.” He’d joked once, to Wooyoung’s not so amused amusement.

But Seonghwa can understand why San wouldn’t want his friend to be associated with them. From the way San speaks about her ever so often, she seems to be a quiet, mild tempered girl who focuses hard on her studies and can even miraculously convince San to revise for the upcoming exams with her in the school library. Being related to them in any way could stain her pristine reputation, make it difficult for her to attain any student leadership positions in the school that were vital to a portfolio, or even make any friends in general.

Honestly, Seonghwa doesn’t know why she would stick with San.

But San is happy when he speaks about her. He’s clearly fond of her, he’d even dragged all of them to search for a suitable charm for her birthday gift.

Then a ticklish feeling rises in his nose and he pulls the handkerchief from his pocket, sneezing into it. He doesn’t want to admit it, but the piece of white cloth has saved him so many trips to the convenience store nearby to buy a pack of tissue. Looking down on it, he sighs as he looks the handkerchief over. It’s a piece of plain white cloth, without embellishment or embroidery, nothing outstanding to set it apart from others physically, but unique, because it was there for him when he needed it. Just like the girl who’d given it to him, he thinks to himself with another sigh, wondering how exactly he’s going to find her and return the handkerchief to her.

He doesn’t remember much about how she looks, having been trying to stop himself from sneezing in front of her when she’d literally thrown the handkerchief in his face and shouted at him to get better, before she dashed away faster than Usain Bolt on steroids.

Honestly, who still uses handkerchiefs in this day and age?

“Did you catch a cold, hyung?” Ever perceptive Wooyoung asks curiously, before spotting the handkerchief in his hand. “I didn’t know you used handkerchiefs, though.”

For some reason, something in his voice is completely judgemental and even though Seonghwa feels the same, he can’t help but feel like he needs to defend the girl who gave it to him, at least. Then he catches himself, frowning. Wooyoung’s too curious for his own good, tell him a little and the he’ll have her name, class, blood type, age, address, favourite food down to a tee tomorrow.

Besides, Seonghwa wants to do this by himself.

So Seonghwa shakes his head.

“It’s not mine. A girl gave it to me in the morning, but I don’t know who it was. I owe her a word of thanks, at least.”

Mingi raises an eyebrow, teeth fiddling with the silver piercing on his lower left lip absentmindedly. “Someone approached you, hyung?’ He sounds as confused as Seonghwa feels.

Curious, San glances over at the piece of white cloth for a moment, staring blankly. Then something in his dark eyes glint minutely, the side of his lip quirking up in amusement. Is it fate?

A thought forms and the cogs of his mind start turning, building upon that wisp of a thought until it turns into an idea, then a plan. Seonghwa catches sight of the little smirk on San’s face and frowns in confusion, opening his mouth to ask the younger boy exactly what he’s thinking. He’s a little afraid when San smiles like that. It usually means he’s up to no good.

“San, what is it?”

But San shrugs playfully, eyes shining with glee.

“Oh, it’s absolutely nothing, hyung.”

Seonghwa’s been searching for you for a week now.

For the first time, he actually attends school regularly even if it isn’t to go to class. Standing at the main gate at the crack of dawn, his eyes rake the faces of the students who walk into school every morning. All of them give him a wide berth, wearing the same terrified, yet befuddled expressions, similarly confused as why to the one of school’s bad boys would actually be in the school compound before the bell rings.

Regularly, at that.

About fifteen minutes before the bell rings, he hears the familiar thrum of an engine and raises his head to glance at the driveway outside. Just as he does, a sleek black Jaguar purrs into sight, coming to a stop. It’s presence still causes the same ripple of excitement and anticipation as it did three years ago, and Seonghwa can see all the students in the front yard of the school whispering behind their hands as they discuss the boy inside, wondering whether he’s going to abide by the school rules for once.

The driver, dressed impeccably as ever in a black, custom tailored suit and white gloves, crosses over to the passenger’s side and opens the door for the person inside with a deep bow.

“Young master.”

Kim Hongjoong, eldest son to the CEO of one of the most powerful business empires in Korea and probably the world, steps out with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes as if he’s still half asleep. Then he turns to the chauffeur, who Seonghwa recognises now as Hongjoong’s personal assistant and bodyguard, and gives him a nod.

“Thank you, Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom falters momentarily, head rising a little as he looks at his master. “Young master, you know your father does not like it when you thank me… I am a mere household servant-”

“Who gives a damn what that old fart wants?” Hongjoong grabs his bag from the backseat, adjusting the silver beads and tags in his mullet. “I’ll see you later, Jae.”

The chauffeur can’t exactly argue with his employer, so he merely sighs a little and nods, bowing once more. “As you wish, young master.”

Seonghwa watches quietly as the car zips off down the street.

“Still here, Mars?” His best friend steps up next to him, bag casually slung over one shoulder as he quirks a brow, showing off the eyebrow slit at the side. Seonghwa lets his face relax into a small smile, adjusting the collar of his maroon turtleneck.

“Yeah.”

Hongjoong merely sighs in exasperation, waving his phone in hand. “You know, like I told you at the beginning of all this nonsense, I could have just given Jaebeom a ring and you would have your mystery girl’s identity in a folder on your lap within ten minutes. It would have included handphone number, siblings, hospital records and financial accounts and you wouldn’t be standing here like some lovesick goof every morning.”

Seonghwa doesn’t take any offense to his friend’s barbed words, knowing they stem from genuine concern for him. In fact, Hongjoong only uses his glib tongue and charisma when it comes to charming people into doing things that he wants. He’s not quite as skilled a manipulator as Wooyoung, who can puppet any person like a marionette on strings, but then again few are.

Seonghwa prefers it when Hongjoong takes on this tone with him. It’s more casual, more informal and Seonghwa doesn’t feel like he’s at risk of being played. When he speaks like that, he’s not the heir of the Kim Corporation, Kim Hongjoong, but instead he’s just Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s best friend.

“You know why I want to do this myself.” Seonghwa says softly and Hongjoong pauses a moment, because he does. He understands all too well just having everything presented to him on a silver platter with a golden spoon, not having to put in effort for any of it. Things lose their value that way, and he knows Seonghwa is determined not to let this happen.

Hongjoong merely sighs as he glances at the white handkerchief in Seonghwa’s hand.

“Well, I doubt anyone’s coming in now, it’s pretty late.” He tells Seonghwa, who nods and tucks the neatly folded cloth in his pocket. “Let’s get to class.”

San calls you at approximately five in the morning. On a Saturday morning, in fact.

Groaning as you roll over in your bed, you reach for your phone, the silver cat charms clicking against the screen as you put it to your ear. You’re thinking of a hundred and one ways to slowly butcher him and rip him into tiny little pieces when his cheerful voice comes over the phone. “Hey, my dear best friend, what are you doing up so early in the morning?”

A growl tears from your throat. “It’s 5:16 AM, Choi San. If you don’t have a good reason for waking me up at this time of the morning I’m coming over to your house, I’m going to rip out your throat and I’m going to steal Shiber from you.”

A horrified squeal comes over the phone. “Don’t steal Shiber!”

You almost sigh at how he completely missed out the ‘I’m going to tear your throat out’ bit, but you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation, sitting up on your bed as the blanket falls to your lap. “What is it, San? If you tell me now that you want to watch reruns of the Golden Girls at this time of the morning, I’m going to strangle you in your sleep.”

“Oooh, kinky.” San whistles and you groan, smacking your head against the bedside table. Murder does really seem to be a tempting option now.

“Choi San I swear if you do not give me a good reason right now I’m going back to sleep-” You begin but then San cuts in more quickly than a swerving F1 racer.

“No no no, please don’t! Well, you see, one of the maids back at my house just told me that Yobu fell sick and needs to see a vet, but none of them are open at this time of the morning.”

Your jaw drops at the news, heart thundering in your chest. “I can’t believe you wasted all my time talking nonsense when Yobu was ill! What are we going to do, San?” You’re honestly worried for that sweet mannered ragdoll cat, fingers drumming anxiously against the table when San continues.

“But I have a friend knows about veterinary medicine since he works part time at a vet, so could you please bring Yobu to him? I’ve already told him that you’re coming.”

Something strikes you as odd and your eyes narrow suspiciously. “San… why can’t you just bring Yobu there yourself?”

“Ahh…” You hear your best friend falter a little over the phone and from the sheepish tone in his voice, he’s up to something again. You’re about to question him when you suddenly realise that there’s the thumping of the bass in the background, synthesizers screaming and the sound of drunken singing. Your heart falls.

“You’re in a club, aren’t you?”

San pauses uncomfortably. You’ve made it clear multiple times that you don’t approve of his partying lifestyle, but you’ve also told him that it’s his life and he needs to make choices for himself. “Yeah… “ His voice is soft over the phone, but then it tries to cheer you up a little. “I swear I didn’t even drink a lot! I’m not even drunk right now! I just came for a bit of booze and the atmosphere.”

At that, your smile softens a little. You know that San is desperately trying to change his ways, but it’s only the beginning, the first step of a long journey. “I know. Be back before sunrise, okay? Stay safe and don’t make me worry about you.”

You can hear San’s smile over the phone. “I promise. Now then, I’m leaving our child in your hands, alright?”

You’ve barely agreed when the call ends, the beeping of the phone all that’s left of your conversation.

You’re standing outside an apartment building at seven.

Yobu lets out a little mrrow from the basket under your arm and you stroke him on the head gently, checking the address on your phone. He looks perfectly fine to you, but then again you’re no doctor. Glancing at the block number and the unit, you’re indeed at San’s friend’s house. What friend, you have no idea, but you really need to get Yobu checked up as fast as possible.

Stepping up to the door, you press the bell once.

There’s an electronic warble and some shifting coming from behind the closed door. “Wait a moment, please-” You hear and you frown, the voice sounds male and vaguely familiar, as if you’ve heard it before. But before you can remember where, the door swings open to reveal the resident of the house.

You nearly drop Yobu in your shock.

You’re so going to murder San in his sleep.

Because it’s Park Seonghwa standing there, blonde hair mussed from sleep, dressed in a soft grey sweater and sweats, staring back at you with equally wide eyes. No leather jacket, no silver chains around his neck, simple black piercings in his ears. To your surprise, he looks soft as a kitten, not at all like that bad boy image you’re so used to seeing in school.

You glance down at his feet. He’s wearing freaking Gundam cartoon themed socks.

“Mrrow…” Yobu meows plaintively from his basket, as if demanding for the two of you to stop staring at each other and get a move on. That’s enough to jerk Seonghwa out of his shock and he opens the door a bit wider to let you in. “Uhh, please come in.”

You do as you’re told, slipping your shoes off at the door and stepping inside. The house is surprisingly bare, a pair of folded mattresses against against the wall and a lumpy couch in the corner. There’s a vet’s bag on the floor, stethoscope already laid out. You glance to the shelf at to your left as you set Yobu down on the ground, there’s a picture of a woman who you assume to be Seonghwa’s mother, and next to that is a collection of assembled Gundam models.

It seems as if someone is a fan.

You’re briefly afraid if something bad is going to happen to you when Park Seonghwa closes the door behind you, but as much as San enjoys playing pranks on you, he’s never one to put you in danger. Seonghwa sit down before you, cross legged, looking painfully awkward for the first time you’ve seen him.

“Umm… Hi…” He greets you softly and you stiffen to attention, Yobu curling in your arms and you hesitantly stroke the tiny cat gently. “So… Yobu is sick?”

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. “You know Yobu?”

Seonghwa nods slowly. “Yeah well… I was the one who named him.” He holds out his hands for the grey ragdoll, looking at you hesitantly while you’re still staring at him in shock from this unexpected information. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip nervously, dragging across the black piercing there. “May I?’

You somehow regain enough cognitive function to place Yobu into his arms, the small feline nosing into Seonghwa’s chest and he lets out a gentle laugh, nuzzling the kitten with his nose. “Let’s see what’s wrong with you, little guy.”

Your mind is still reeling from all of… this. From what you know, Park Seonghwa is a mysterious bad boy who is a member of a terrifying group called ATEEZ that your best friend also happens to be part of. But even after knowing San for three years, he’s never really exposed you to any of his other friends, so you still steer clear of them whenever you see them in school.

But this Park Seonghwa before you is looking at the tiny kitten like it holds the moon and stars in its tiny paws, humming a soft tune under his breath as he reaches for his stethoscope. He’s nothing like the Park Seonghwa you’re familiar with, bruised fingers gentle as he checks over Yobu for any physical ailments, cooing to the cat in a sweet voice when it attempts to squirm out of his arms occasionally. You usually never say this… but you’re quite mindblown.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.” Seonghwa muses after a while, setting his tools down. You’re jerked out of your stunned stupor, letting out a witty ‘eh?’ as he puts Yobu down on the ground, the kitten batting at his sweater sleeve with its paws.

Seonghwa tugs his lip piercing between his teeth and for a second, you’re raising your eyes to heaven to ask exactly what you have done to deserve this punishment, but then he’s speaking once more. “I don’t see anything wrong with Yobu… He seems perfectly fine. Did San mention anything?”

You shake your head. “No, San just told me to bring Yobu over to you.”

“That’s odd…” Seonghwa frowns, fingers fiddling with the piercings on the shell of his ear before he lets out a sigh, rising to his feet. You keep your remark of ‘yeah, that sounds like San’ to yourself as you follow him with your eyes, watching as he steps over to the shelf, opening one of the drawers. “Anyway, I’m glad you came. I’ve been looking for you for a couple of weeks now.”

You pause, a little confused. Looking for you? What would the Park Seonghwa be searching for a person like you?

When he turns around, he’s holding your white handkerchief in his hands.

The two week old memory comes to the front of your mind and your mouth falls open. You remember walking to school, hearing someone sniffing quietly behind the school building, offering them a handkerchief… only for the person to be the one and only Park Seonghwa.

“Ahh…” Is all you manage to say, a little stunned as you accept the handkerchief back. It smells of clean cloth and soap that you don’t quite recognise, meaning that Seonghwa must have cleaned it for you. “You didn’t have to, but thank you anyway.”

Seonghwa shakes his head firmly as Yobu paws at the hem of his sweats, whining for attention. “No, I needed to. Thank you for lending it to me. I really appreciate it… could I repay you somehow? Maybe bring you out for a meal tomorrow?”

Your brain hits the brakes, all activity coming to a screeching halt as the words ‘meal’, ‘tomorrow’ and ‘repay’ bounce around your head like rubber balls. Thankfully, you’re saved from having to answer from the sound of your ringtone, although the second you hear it, you’re tempted to kill San right this second, and maybe yourself too, to save yourself the shame.

“You have a call! You have a call! Hey! Answer it! Don’t ignore me! Pleaseeee~” San’s voice comes from your pocket and you freeze in embarrassment, as Seonghwa stares at you in shock.

Your face turns red and you rush to answer the call, cheeks heating up in horrified mortification. Jabbing the little green icon with as much fury as you can muster, you hiss into the phone when the call comes through.

“What the hell did you do to my phone, San?”

“Hello! How’s my dear Yobu doing?” He sings, completely ignoring your furious question. You pause in your tracks, wheels turning in your mind as you put all the clues together. His too cheerful voice, the handkerchief, how he didn’t tell you Seonghwa was this veterinarian friend…

“Choi San.” Your voice is literally bubbling with mounting vexation and your rage must be clearly heard, because there’s a gulp over the phone. “Did you plan all of this?”

The line goes dead and you stare at your phone in shock.

Then you shriek in fury.

“I’m going to kill that slimy worm! That little bastard! Playing me like this!” Your fists are clenching around your phone, dearly wishing they were wringing San’s scrawny neck instead. You’re about to throw something when a warm hand settles on your shoulder and you whirl around in shock, suddenly remembering that Seonghwa is still in the room with you.

“Is everything alright?” He asks hesitantly, dark eyes wide and concerned and your rage dissipates into thin air, replaced by all too potent self-consciousness. He’d just seen you screaming your head off like a mad woman, for god’s sake.

“Yeah...I’m just going to have to kill that bastard the next time I see him.” You mumble under your breath, turning your phone to silent before savagely shoving it in your pocket. “Yobu is fine, San just played a massive prank on us.”

To your surprise, Seonghwa doesn’t even react in the least, clearly expecting something like this after having known San for so long. He merely presses one hand to his face as he shakes his head in exasperation. “I knew something was up when he was smiling so much that day. That kid, honestly…”

“Sorry for the bother.” You apologise quickly, scooping up Yobu in your arms and placing him in his basket. The ragdoll lets out a soft meow, as if confused as to why you’re leaving so soon when you practically run for the door in shame. But right before you can leave, Seonghwa’s hand grasps your wrist lightly, pulling you back, and you make a soft ‘eep’ in surprise as you turn to face him.

He actually looks painfully nervous, teeth toying with the black piercing on his lower lip as his gaze moves around shiftily, his toes scrunching up under Robot Man’s face. “Well… will you… will you let me bring you for dinner tomorrow? To thank you?”

You freeze awkwardly, the tension between the two of you thick as sauna steam. After a long, awkward pause of silence, Seonghwa finally seems to realise he’s holding onto your wrist and drops it like you have the plague, scooting back several steps to a more respectful distance. His tongue swipes across his pink lips shyly as he musters up the courage to speak again. “Please? I mean, if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to, I completely understand-”

You’re snapped out of your lip piercing induced shock when you finally realise that Seonghwa thinks that you’re reluctant to go with him. Not that you aren’t slightly… but maybe it’s time to give San’s friends a chance and get to know them. From what you’ve seen of Seonghwa, he doesn’t seem that bad to you anyway.

Awkwardly, you unlock your phone and pass it to him.

His eyes widen in surprise when he sees a blank contact open, the tiny line hovering at the ‘Name’ bar. Then a smile, one real and genuine, settles on his face as he enters his name and phone number, saving it before he passes it back to you.

“I’ll call you?” He asks as you slip on your shoes, balancing Yobu’s basket in one hand and your phone in the other. You nod in reply, a little breathless from his radiant smile.

“Yeah.”

From the basket, Yobu gives a smug mew of affirmation. His mission is complete.

#ateez #ateez seonghwa #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #w; seonghwa #seonghwa #w; fanfiction

180 notes · View notes

tinyanimelover · 4 years

Text

A Little Closer

Requested anonymously!

[Soi Fon x reader ; #1 "do you want me to leave?"]

"Why are you here?" Soifon asked, eyes closed as she sat behind the desk. It wasn't a surprise for the Captain to find the girl in her barraks, after all, the girl visited almost everyday or whenever she could. "U-um..well, you've been working hard lately! I wanted to help you relax but I couldn't think of anything besides asking you to take a break for some dinner...how'd you know I was at the door?" The girl asked. "I don't need time to relax, I'm fine" Soifon explained, opening her eyes to look at her "Shouldn't you be doing work? What're you doing in another barrack?". "I just was worried you were overworking yourself, so I stopped by.." She explained with a gentle smile "Sorry for bothering you, Soifon-taichou". Soifon watched as the girl bowed, hand on the door as she went to close it behind her. "..wait--" she spoke up before the door cloaed fully. "Y-yes, Soifon-taichou?" She stammered a bit in surprise, poking her head in the room "What is it?". "..what'd you want to eat, then?" The Captain asked, standing from the desk. "You're going to have dinner with me" the girl's eyes lit up "In that case, whatever you want to eat, Soifon-taichou! I'll pay!". "Then..I'm in the mood for some fish" Soifon said, walking past the girl "Hurry up before I change my mind". "Yes ma'am!" She grinned, catching up to the Captain. "..are..are you enjoying the food?" She asked with wide, hopeful eyes "We can order something else if you want". "No. This is fine" Soifon assured, bringing a piece of the fish to her lips "You don't have to keep stopping by my barracks. You're Captain will start to get angry if you start slacking in your duties". "Hm? Oh! Don't worry, Soifon-taichou, I always finish any duties first before coming to see you!" The girl grinned with thumbs up "If I slacked off, Hitsugaya-taichou would chase me around like he does with Rangiku-chan". "Hm.." The woman let out, chewing the food "I see". "Ahh~" the girl sang softly "This is nice! It's been too long since I got to spend time with you". "Why do you keep coming to my barracks?" Soifon asked, eyes glued to the girl who seeemd flustered by the question. "H-huh? Well..--" she was cut off. "I saved you once and you repayed that debt back already. So why do you keep trying to find ways to speak to me?" Soifon interrupted. "...I'm not trying to repay back anything, Soifon-taichou.." She smiled nerously "I...I admire you, in fact..". "Haah?" Soi Fon asked, a bit surprised. "When you saved me..you were so brave and strong...and despite what everyone said about the other said about the Captain of the Second Squad being heartless and cold...I realized it wasn't true at all. You're kind in your own ways..and you care about your squad..in your own ways..I wanted to make sure that you were taking cafe of yourself as well.." She explained with a genuine smile, making Soifon's eyes widen slightly "I want to make sure your happy, Soifon-taichou..". "H...happy?.." Soifon repeated. Why would the underling of another Captain, care for her happiness? "Mhm! After all, you work really hard but it all gets shoved under the rug by everyone who thinks you're too cruel.." She grinned. "...tch..why would I care what anyone else thinks of me?" Soifon collected herself "You shouldn't be worried about any other Captain but your own". The girl's eyes widened "...r-right..sorry, Soifon-taichou..I just..." She trailed off. "I'm finished" Soifon spoke, getting up "Thank you for the meal. I'll be going now". "W-wait!" She stammered out, getting up as well "Let me walk you back to Squad 2's barracks, Soifon-taichou! Please!". The woman glanced at her, "I can find my way back just fine". "I know that..but..still..I want to walk you back. I would like to..be with you a little longer.." she admitted with a sheepish grin. "..fine" the said without another word, the girl followed after her. Soifon wasn't sure what it was about the girl that lured her in almost immediately, but she just could never say no no matter how hard she tried to resist, she jist couldn't do it. How long had it been like this? How long had it been that her attention had been focused on someone other than Yoruichi? "Oh! I almost forgot! I took in a stray cat the other night but he doesn't seem to like the food I'm trying to feed him, he just sniffs it and looks away. What should I do? I've never taken care of an animal before.." The girl chimed up, interrupting Soifon's thoughts. "..he's probably hurt somewhere or not feeling el" she spoke up after a few moments of silence passing by "You'll have to check him over for any wounds, just in case". "Huh? You think so..ahh, that would explain why he's been so feisty every time I get near him" she let out as it all made sense "But..how would I make him feel better then? Oh, do you think you could take a look at him then?". "Why would I do that?" Soifon asked, a bit harshly as she was beginning to realized the spoke too much. "H-huh...y-you're right" she laughed nervously "Sorry..Soifon-taichou..when I get nervous I tend to ramble..". "Nervous?" Soifon repeated, looking over at her. Now that she mentioned it, she did look like she was breaking into a sweat or something. "Y-yeah..sorry again..I'll leave you here then so I don't annoy you further..good night, Soifon-taichou..". Soifon watched her turn away, scratching the back of her head as she walked. Why? Why couldn't she just leave it all alone? Why couldn't she resist? "..hmph...you don't have to leave" Soifon found herself saying, turning away. "Really?!" She let out with bright eyes "Then...you want me to stay? You don't want me to leave?". "I..could care less, do what you want" Soifon answered, walking away "...and you don't have to call me Captain either..at least when it's just us two.." "Soifon..." She tested, loving how it rolled off her tongue "Thank you, Soifon! You won't regret it!". Soifon could feel a tug at the corner of her lips as they walked "..hmm..".

#Bleach #bleach one-shots #soifon x reader #bleach canon #request #female reader insert

37 notes · View notes

dumatsquiet · 4 years

Note

for the hyperfixation ask game: 📃, 🏳‍🌈, and 💎?

📃 what is the plot of your hyperfixation? and is it a movie, game, show, etc?

Ok I was like gonna explain Fate since it’s a new hyperfixation but it’s way too hard to explain as I discussed w/ @mountainashfae so. Instead I will explain Dragon Age! It’s more of a special interest but still.

Dragon Age (sorry if u already know this) is a fantasy RPG/book/comic/that one animated movie nobody likes/that one live action web series with Felicia Day that everybody forgot about/that one Facebook game??/that one phone app game/that poorly written TTRPG/ series about the known world of Thedas. It’s a very (mostly) stereotypical high fantasy setting that takes place in the Dragon Age/Era, hence the name. In MOST content you follow the story of whatever brave hero and their companions, and the choices they make.

🏳‍🌈 do you have any headcanons (lgbt, race, neuro, etc) that are important to you?

YES ABSOLUTELY some of them are:

-Josephine is asexual!!! She’s asexual biromantic. I always had heavy ace vibes from her romance....

-DA2 is being narrated, so many of the things that seem a bit outrageous/break canon are in fact due to an unreliable narrator. Literally Varric is untrustworthy as much as I love him!!!

-Same w/ the way ppl talk about him in DAI. It’s to protect Anders, it’s not actually the truth.

-BI ALISTAIR BI ALISTAIR BI ALISTAIR

-BI CASS BI CASS BI CASS BI CASS

-literally all ur favs are autistic. I mostly HC Alistair, Anders, Dagna, Cole and Merril as such but all of them.

I have a lot of like. Character quirk headcanons too!!

Like, how Bull probably comes and goes and takes from the kitchen a lot, and the staff does so half because. He’s kind of intimidating. But also because he’s one of the only people who stops and listens to them, and tries to talk to them. And that’s why he has food under his bed :)

And how once Anders and Isabella start to talk more again, Isabella will point out and help Anders feed and take care of Kirkwall’s stray cat population. Eventually it becomes a group effort!!! Even Fenris likes to feed the cats.

💎 are there any fun facts or trivia that you would like to share?

YES!!

-Iron Bull canonically wears a knee brace? Which, same hat dude if I actually wore mine orz

-Out of all the lore inconsistencies I actually like the fact that canonically elves have bigger eyes than humans and their eyes have reflective qualities.

-So, there’s a species of lizardmen known as the Scaled Ones. They’re like, a group of people who were warriors and fought with the Dwarves around -1195 Ancient, so a bit after the Tevinter Imperium was founded. They have been mysteriously erased from MOST records, but accounts of them that do survive say their priests can breathe fire which is the most badass thing ever.

-Also! There’s a common misconception that you can call the Qunari Kossith and be correct which, is false. While they did descend from the Kossith, through dialogue w/ Bull and from codext entries, it’s discerned that:

The original Kossith settlement in the Korcari Wilds was wiped out by dark spawn. There’s not another “Kossith” settlement in forever and when there is it’s the Qunari in dreadnoughts, and they cause the Qunari Wars.

Specifically talking to Bull you’re informed they do not associate themselves with the Kossith as, they had to leave for a certain (unspecified) reason, and there’s been SO much selective breeding done (and probable tampering with dragon blood, as evident from the “not your own blood/your blood is engorged with decay” lines) that they most likely are very distinct from whom ever the Kossith were. It’s clear that most people in the Qun probably do not even know of/use the term Kossith outside of Tamassran tales of before the Qun. Most people in Thedas that aren’t Tal-Vashoth also will not know the term.

I’m not going to make this any longer but if anybody would like to send me more of this ask meme here it is!!!

#dragon age #ask memes #hyperfixation ask meme

5 notes · View notes

wookikun · 4 years

Text

aesthetic tag game

tagged by @hiddenclawsof (who wrote the very first WooKi I've read and well I'm facing some unpleasant moments but u still remembers me and that heals me a lot)

rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold.

I'm not gonna tag anyone cuz I'm unfamiliar here but still I want to do this si without tagging I just do it :(((((

2 notes · View notes

typinggently · 4 years

Note

Okay I said I wanted Napollya content so, since you’ve already done 3 for another ship, how about 2) a staircase leading to nothing, a stray cat, poison (because Russian poisons are f u n)

Fairy-tale AU

Since thieves aren’t exactly welcome guests, many travel the lands, fluttering their magpie wings and sinking their magpie claws into the shiny nests of different cities. Different countries, even.

Napoleon, hair black like gleaming feathers, follows the sound of the wind and the promise of unknown territories and unlocked doors into the cold, cold north. One night, he seeks refuge from the glittering frost in a small hut at the edge of a forest where the wind is whispering through pine needles, cruel and enticing.

As he’s melting the ice in his hair by the fire, he asks about the forest, the lands behind it. “Would a man”, he says, fluttering his magpie feathers, “would a man make his luck in those lands?”

“At the castle”, they tell him, “At the castle beyond the forests, there is luck to be made, but of all the men who left to make theirs, none have returned.”

“Fear not,” the thief says, “I’m not a man.”

The next morning, with nothing taken but some things given wilfully and with good intentions, Napoleon enters the forest. The trees stand so close that the night is caught between the branches and no sunlight reaches the floor. Blackberry bushes wrap their sweet thorns around the tree stumps and claw at his coat.

Through this forest, Napoleon wanders all day-night, half the night-night, until he sits to rest on a tree stump, with an empty stomach and an empty stomach. As he eats what has been given to him, cheese and bread and elderberry wine, he hears a voice crawling through the blackberry bushes. Thieves don’t carry swords, but Napoleon carries a warm, beating heart – and a butter knife. The blackberries tear the sleeves of his coat and the skin of his hands, but he finds a cat in the bushes, calling for help.

He picks her out of the thorns and slips her underneath his coat to warm her with his beating heart and feeds her crumbling cheese. “As thanks for your kindness,” she says, “As thanks for your kindness, I’ll tell you this: Don’t drink the wine they’ll offer at night.”

With that, the cat slips from the magpie, and slips into the night-night of the forest. Napoleon, with heavy bones and bleeding hands, continues his walk until the trees untangle their branches to let him pass. At the horizon, where the black night melts into the white snow, the castle stands with glittering walls.

It stands with glittering towers, the highest of which seems to tickle the stars with its weathercock. In front of Napoleon, the doors open as if pushed by silent, invisible hands and behind him, they close.

He wanders the empty halls, magpie claws tangling in the wonders laid out for him until he finds a room where a fire is flickering in the fireplace and a table is set for one person, the bed ready and the shadows curling in the corners. So the magpie calls out three times and when no answer comes, sits down to eat, a half-guest, half-thief in the fire-warmth. Fruit and roasted peacock on golden plates, wine in heavy carafes. Remembering the cat’s warning, he spills the wine by an almost-accident.

Once he’s laying in the bed, sleep comes quickly. Blackberry bushes and shadows tangle in his dreams, cats and voices and pale-glittering towers. When the midnight-moon brightens the room, he wakes with a start. The cat is sitting at the foot of his bed, eyes glinting. “If you turn your back to the stairs in the tower, you’ll find blood-stained gold.”

Napoleon, frozen in shock, says nothing. The cat slips away.

The next evening, Napoleon lets the wine seep into a linen cloth hidden under his collar. Again, he wakes up when the midnight moon brightens the room. Again, the cat is sitting at the foot of his bed, eyes glinting. “If you turn your back to the stairs in the tower, you’ll find blood-stained gold.”

Napoleon, startled, frowns. “Whose blood?” The cat slips away.

On the third evening, Napoleon again doesn’t drink the wine, again the glinting eyes of the cat watch him as he wakes. Napoleon sits up. “What if I don’t turn my back to the stairs in the tower?”

“Then,” the cat says, “Then you’ll find a mouthful of poison and save us all.”

Magpies aren’t charitable, but thieves are curious. So with the butter-knife in his sleeve, Napoleon slips through the moon-pale castle.

The tower is made of glass, its door so cool and delicate, he fears it’ll shatter under his hand. Inside, the walls and floors glisten, and a staircase winds its way up like a glittering serpent, only to stop mid-air. But Napoleon doesn’t turn his back to it. He looks up, up, and under the roof of the tower, he sees a platform, shining in moonlight.

When he starts to walk up the steps, he doesn’t think about the blood-stained gold behind him. And when his foot reaches the last step, when he treads on air, the next one appears. And the next, and the next, and Napoleon feels the pull of the void underneath, the shadows curling around his feet.

Under the roof of the tower, on the moon-shining platform, there stands a throne of silver. On the throne sits a man with hair of gold. And the man is pale like moonlight, his hand cold like marble. Not dead, not quite, but frozen and tangled in a death-like sleep. His mouth is opened as if for a sigh, and purple poison drips from his tongue. It spills over his lips, down his chin.

Fear is cold, but Napoleon’s heart is warm, and he leans in and kisses the poison from the sleeping man’s lips. Poison is bitter, but love is sweet, and what drips from Napoleon’s mouth when he tilts his head is blackberry juice. And death is long, but ice melts, and cool hands tangle in Napoleon’s hair.

Now, is the curse broken? When the man opens his eyes, does the magpie-black of Napoleon’s hair steal his heart? Does the sun rise and do the trees in the night-forest detangle? Does the man lead Napoleon down the glittering stairs, into the castle that’s gleaming like a diamond in the first sunrays? Does the cat stretch and shake her fur from her shoulders and does she turn back into the woman she was before shadows pulled her into the blackberry bushes?

It wouldn’t be a fairy-tale otherwise.

this was? different? from what I had planned? (“Russian poisons” made me think of alcohol and I had this whole other thing but it wouldn’t really flow so I binned it and went into a completely different direction) But it was fun to write, so I can only hope it was fun to read, too :’) I feel sorry about Illya being so...well, dead in this. How similar is this to his whole “I’m a whole ass statue” ark in Hymetian Wax? I need to branch out. But! This was fun!! Thank you so much for the prompt, I hope you enjoyed it :)

And no need to worry about double-prompting, as you can see it can lead to very different results :’)

#drabble #napollya #morningstar1399 #i used to write fairy tales a lot #and i still love tonread rhem #anyhow never attempted to write rhem in english #also how corny is too corny you know?

22 notes · View notes

clansayeed · 4 years

Text

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 24: Better the Devil You Don’t (Epilogue)

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Someone does right by Cadence.

note: And with that Bound by Circumstance is ended! I’ll start posting book 3, Bound by Choice, in a day or so! Book 3 is the only book in the series not based off of an existing Choices book, and follows the story of the Trinity in a series of flashback vignettes. Taylor and the Nightbound gang will return in book 4!

Also, Bound by Choice is currently in-progress, as opposed to books 1 & 2 which were completed at the time of posting. Once I catch up on the last chapters posted, my updating schedule will go to the weekly update my AO3 is on.

[READ IT ON AO3]

A few weeks later…

[TEXT]: hurry up [TEXT]: where r u??? [TEXT]: ur loss I’m not waiting [TEXT]: BUZZKILL!!! [TEXT]: pic.jpg

The picture does it — finally draws his attention away from his computer to where his phone screen changes from 01:07 to 01:08 as if to taunt him.

It takes Cadence a moment to realize the woman next to Kathy in her (blurry) self-taken photo is supposed to be Ivy. So used to seeing her true form in person — but glamours don’t fade on digital recording.

And who else do they know dresses like she’s always ready to attend a Victorian funeral?

In his friend’s defense Cade was supposed to be at the Shift over an hour ago.

She’ll hear his excuses and his apologies, pretend as though he’s committed the greatest sin in history — but come sunrise and sobriety he’ll be forgiven. The Nighthunter likes to make everyone think she’s the picture of cool nonchalance; the human equivalent of a cat.

But anyone who feeds strays knows just how affectionate cats can be when they so choose.

He shuts down his work, fighting the instinctual habit to leave most of it out and make his space look clean by pushing it to the sides of his desk — actually putting things back in their folders and boxes.

Tap-tap.

His head jerks up quick enough for his glasses to threaten flight. Working in this particular space for over a decade now, there isn’t anyone who doesn’t know about Odd Cadence and his odd hours; how he refuses to work in the daylight due to a debilitating allergy.

Even Gary from night maintenance wouldn’t bother.

Tap-tap.

He listens for a heartbeat. Can hear everything from the rush of water through old plumbing to the coo of pigeons scavenging on the outside Square.

Tap—

Isadora de la Rosa doesn’t get to finish her genteel knocking; pale hand hovering just shy of the taller vampire’s collarbone as he holds the door open.

She looks a little dumbfounded for him to have answered. That’s silly, though, since she was in his territory now.

The air is thick with a tension not felt since Mardi Gras those weeks ago. She looks ready to turn and leave without a word between them. He almost lets her.

“Izzy,” by way of greeting, and even though she now runs the dynasty her father built he struggles to call her anything but the petulant youthful human woman he first met her as, “I was just heading out.”

He gives her a chance; sees the opportunity for escape that flickers in her weathered eyes no longer young but no less defiant by nature.

Some people were just born ready to stand their ground. He always admired that about her.

“This won’t take long.”

One step forward, one step back. A familiar dance neither acknowledges as Isadora invites herself into his space. She’s not the oldest thing in the room by far, nor the most expensive. Still she commands the air around her to whisper softer, for the floorboards under her heels to wait until she passes to creak.

“Sure, come on in…”

She makes a point of trying to keep an arms’ length between her body and any clutter. He won’t apologize for it, not to her. She was half the reason he’s like this.

“I’m glad to see the Museum is treating you well.”

“Uh-huh.” He’s never met a de la Rosa good at small talk. He still hasn’t.

But she keeps trying. It’s hard not to cringe at every forced word, how she purposefully finds something to look at and mention; “New project, I see.”

Cadence doesn’t answer. She switches a black leather briefcase from one hand to the other; a poised woman’s version of shuffling her feet.

“You always were best kept —”

“I have somewhere to be.”

Her quirked brow says it all; how she definitely doesn’t believe him but calling him out on it is somehow counterproductive to why she’s here.

Why is she here?

Because the only reason he can conjure up has to do with the Coven, and the Council, and that’s why they’re enjoying nights like these at the Shift. To forget about everything that happened — to move on.

“Look, Izzy — if this is something that can wait, can it? I’ve got office hours tomorrow night—or hell, I’ll even come ‘round to the family house. But I do have somewhere to be, and I’m already late.”

When she takes stock of the room again he understands. It’s a tactic — and not a very good one — to allow her to think.

They’ve never been like this before. So why now?

It’s a brief flicker; blink-and-you-miss-it type. But Cadence doesn’t miss it — how Izzy stares at the chair claimed by Katherine in permanent marker.

“You’re going to meet her, the Nighthunter.”

“My friend Katherine, yes. Among others.”

“She treads dangerous waters in this town.”

It sounds a little too much like a threat for Cade’s comfort. Makes it a real effort to keep from letting it get to him.

“I think the same could be said for any hunter.” For Katherine, for Ryder.

“Yes, you would know,” she clasps the case handle with both hands over her front; a shield between them, “though this one — she’s different, isn’t she? She’s well-connected.”

Like he’s been fumbling around in the dark of his head — he finally finds the lamp chain and tugs. Lets the light flood through with an “Ah” of understanding.

So that’s what this is about.

“Contrary to what you may believe this isn’t the same world Carlo built his dynasty in. Humans — even Nighthunters and especially out-of-towners — they don’t whisper the rules to one another anymore.” Then, with firm conviction; “Katherine didn’t know she needed to ask your father for permission to bring Adrian Raines into town.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah, I did.”

If she’s here to enact some sort of delayed punishment, Cadence can’t promise he’ll stay civil. “I weighed the risks carefully,” he continues, “and decided it was best for everyone that no one knew who didn’t need to know.” Not that it had been a good choice. Maybe it could have saved Raines at his trial.

Sometimes he wonders why the two of them didn’t work out — especially when she was Turned. It wasn’t because of her perceived age, and obviously being his boss’ daughter hadn’t stopped them from getting involved in the first place.

He always remembers not a moment later. There’s a reason the term is ‘opposites attract.’ They were too similar — too hot in the head and both prone to speaking and acting without thinking ahead. Without considering the consequences.

So when she isn’t sneering an insult at him on the heels of Cade actually admitting to his wrongdoing… he knows something is very wrong.

“Izzy…?”

And the smile she offers is too forced, too fake. Sends shivers down his spine. “I’m glad you see things that way.”

“What way?”

She unclasps the briefcase with a flick of her little fingers. “That sometimes, in rare cases I think, withholding knowledge from someone is for the best; for all parties involved.

“I had prepared to give you this the night of the Minotaur’s championship fight…” The leather bound folder she pulls free is familiar only in that he’s seen the de la Rosa lawyers carry them like extensions of their hands. “And I have spent many hours since debating whether or not I made the right choice in keeping it close. Watching you in the cage — that made it easier.”

“Something’s happening, Kath—”

“Don’t fight it. Let it swallow you whole.”

Let it swallow you whole.

Katherine couldn’t possibly have known just how accurate she had been.

How it felt to stand at the edge of a yawning abyss no one else could see… and how it felt to have the ground fall out from under his feet the moment he decided to jump.

Memories of what happened after his meeting with Isadora still only came to him in clusters. It was less the act of remembering than feeling the same way — sensory triggers like the smell of blood or the tinny grate of a chain link fence.

Of course she had seen the fight. There were members of the underground community still who approached him on the street with praise for his ‘performance,’ or thanking him for standing up to the illegal deals Persephone covered with velvet and glitter.

But there’s a difference between knowing something and knowing it. Knowing the same hand he used to caress her cheek had also torn off the Minotaur’s horn. Knowing she was witness to it…

Isadora’s touch is solid, without the heat humans bring or the chill they feel. It simply is as she gives him the folder with no other choice. Whatever secrets rest inside they are his burden now.

“What you see here… I ask that you please not think less of me for keeping it from you. I was…” she doesn’t give an excuse — not a single one, “I was doing what I thought was right. But I cannot be the one to make that choice anymore. It’s too much Cadence; it’s far too much.”

He means to find comfort or some understanding in their hands. But there’s none to be found.

They pull away as intimate strangers. The space between them cavernous and echoing — and it only grows wider as he realizes she isn’t the one creating it.

He doesn’t need to ask what mystery he now holds.

What other mystery is there but the thing that has plagued him from their first “hello” to this their last “goodbye?”

Cadence’s voice is calm, even to his own ears. “Is this everything?”

“All that my daughter could find among his possessions.”

“And if I have any questions…”

“No,” she interrupts, “no you may not bring them to me. I would rather meet the sun than invite the conflict this will bring into my city, to my family’s doorstep.”

He wants to call her selfish but can’t say he wouldn’t be the same way were their roles reversed.

It’s a nice fantasy—altruism, kindness, doing the right thing so as not to hurt someone close—but it is a fantasy.

So what if he carried the ring she returned to him for a decade in mourning?

And intuition is a very separate thing from mind-reading; that he knows. In Isadora, though, the lines between them have always been a little smudged.

“In case you have any ideas of this meaning…” she breathes and tries again, “just know this has nothing to do with our past, Cadence. Consider this to be an act of release. Beyond what the Council will ask of us, I wash my hands of you.”

Isadora’s decision is as clear now as it was then. She will always choose her family over him. He can’t begrudge her that in the least.

“If only it were that simple.” But it’s probably for the best.

She leaves as abruptly as she arrived. Somehow with the ability to disrupt everything in his space without touching a single thing. As he looks around the office now it feels tainted with secrets and lies; all the things he still doesn’t know that now rest in his hand.

He need only look.

The chair is less than five steps away but he can’t muster the energy to move both his legs and arms; chooses the latter because what comparison is comfort to answers?

Cadence opens the folder and begins to read.

#nightbound #bloodbound #playchoices fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices nb #oc: cadence smith #oblv: bound by circumstance #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

3 notes · View notes

takethlstourgrave · 6 years

Text

get to know me!!

I was tagged by @mostproblematic (hi thank u very much ily it’s been a minute)

RULES: answer the questions and tag 15-20 followers you would like to get to know better.

NAME - Kassandra

ZODIAC SIGN - Aquarius

HEIGHT - 5'2

LANGUAGES SPOKEN - spanish and english and a little bit of french too

NATIONALITY - born in the u.s.

ORIENTATION - bisexual

FAVORITE FRUIT - um mango

COFFEE, TEA OR HOT CHOCOLATE - i’m a slut for coffee, i have coffee sometimes twice a day but at least once every day. I love green tea too tho and i like hot chocolate during the winter but i don’t have it often bc i like to make it with milk and im lactose intolerant and also during the winter i just prefer champurrado

FAVOURITE SEASONS - FALL

FAVOURITE FLOWERS - idk dont have a favorite lol

FAVOURITE SCENTS - libraries, home depot, and rain/wet cement

FAVOURITE COLOURS - i like grey-blue and soft pinks

FAVOURITE ANIMAL - i love p much all of them so much

DOG OR CAT PERSON - i love both so much, i do have two cats

FAVOURITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER - suddenly im blanking on every fictional character i know so imma say Remus Lupin

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP - usually like 4-6 but sometimes i stay up all night and other times i can sleep up to 20 hrs idk why i hate it tho

NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH - um like 2 and 3 during the winter cuz im a baby when it comes to the cold (i live in az i hate anything below 60 degrees)

DREAM TRIP - i’d love to travel everywhere in mexico (i only go to sonora bc that’s where my fam is but i’d love to go further) and also paris

BLOG ESTABLISHED - um i’ve been around for a while but i’ve been around with multiple accounts lol i think i’ve made like 5 tumblr blogs i think some of them are still up (pls dont ask lol). i think my first blog was in like 2012 ?? or like 2010/11 i can’t remember. I started off a superwholock blog (yes i know, i think i reached like 1400 followers tho) and then i made a random ass blog which was suuuuper cringey and then i made another 2-3 forgotten blogs (i didnt make sideblogs idk why) and then i made this one! i can’t remember my first url lol but i had a friend on here and they came up with spencerandthesmiths and i loved it (even though i was therefore seen as a mostly panic blog even though i was a much much bigger fob stan lol) and i had that for years until i thought about a change and i came up with the current url i have now. I think my archive for this blog goes back to 2014

FOLLOWER COUNT - 2501

RANDOM FACTS -

1. i used to play the violon but i stopped playing it haven’t picked up a violin in about 4-5 years

2. i wish i could play the cello

3. i almost pursued a minor in music bc i love music but godd i was not passionate about it enough

4. i ended up switching and now im doing a minor in social and behavioral sciences and i like it considerably so much more

5. im doing a BA in psychology

6. um i have one cat and i feed a stray cat outside and named her and now i kinda think about her as mine but i’m not allowed to keep her but in my heart she’s my baby so i take care of her

7. my first baby’s name is Boo (my sister had her first and she named her Mittens but i did not like that name for her and i was gonna change it but i had trouble figuring out a new name for her so i started calling her Boo as a nickname until i came up with a name and then it just stuck). My outdoor baby’s name is Paws ( i wanted to name her Pumpkin Spice but again it was a nickname that my brother called her and it just stuck i couldn’t get anyone else to call her Pumpkin Spice so her name is Paws now lol)

8. i have rediscovered my nostalgia and the love i had for wwe so im sorry for spamming ur dash or whatever feel free to unfollow lol

9. i remember when i took a long ass break from tumblr i think it was like months long idk if any of you remember lol probably not should do that again maybe but i get bored but um bc i left it for so long i find that sometimes it has unfollowed some of the mutuals that i’ve been following for so long so if ur every like “why’d she unfollow me we’ve been mutuals for years” pls message me or something i can’t find y’all lol

10. also last one i haven’t updated my theme (not mobile) in a long ass time so it still has pumpkin background from the fall lol.

ok thank you! idk who to tag tbh so i’m going with ppl who are in my activity a lot hope you don’t mind! : @brendonuriesbooty, @bowdowntothesupernatural, @punkoverlord, @satellitesnotstars, @drydockedvessel, @straightasawetnoodle, @bandfanforever, @thismadkatter, @do-you-have-a-taco-for-me, @ilooksoseattle, @just-folie-a-deux-it, @galaxydweebs, @prrttyodd, @xocrash-killjoy, and idk if anyone else wants to do it just say i tagged you lol

and just a sidenote also some of you have been following me for such a long time i love you so much i hope karma is treating you good and i hope life is really good to you

#long post #about me #sorry it's a real long post lol #brendonuriesbooty #bowdowntothesupernatural #punkoverlord #satellitesnotstars #drydockedvessel #straightasawetnoodle #bandfanforever #thismadkatter #do-you-have-a-taco-for-me #ilooksoseattle #just-folie-a-deux-it #galaxydweebs #prrttyodd #xocrash-killjoy #mostproblematic

19 notes · View notes

moiraineswife · 6 years

Text

Autistic!Kaz Headcanons

Just bc I can. You should all read @barrelrat‘s initial post about this that initially got me thinking this way/that inspired a few of the following. But basically I couldn’t sleep last night so here we are.

-Kaz longing for the quiet, peaceful familiarity of the farm when he first comes to Ketterdam. The city is too big, too loud, too bright, too crowded, too much. Everything overwhelms him for the first few weeks, and he clings to Jordie as the only stable, familiar anchor that he has.

-He picks up magic/sleight of hand quickly/easily because in addition to being a special interest, the constant, repetitive movements he practiced over and over again necessary to let him master the skills are stims. He does this a lot unconsciously. One of his favourites is manipulating small stacks of coins in his hands, or shuffling packs of cards.

-One of the things that makes him so successful with magic, with conning, with life tbh is his Need to know why. (this is canon, and I love it, so it’s not really a hc but see if I care) His plans are so detailed, so meticulous, and generally go so well because of how thoroughly he understands each and every detail of them. It’s not enough to know that, for instance, Wylan’s timed bombs will go off when he says they will, Kaz needs to understand the mechanics behind them. This helps him spot weaknesses, flaws, and patterns, and is one of the things that makes him so successful.

-Kaz being touch averse before Jordie’s death. Only now there are images and grief attached to the aversion. That makes it worse but also, in a twisted kind of way, better. Because at least now there’s a Reason behind it, and he can understand it.

-Kaz plans everything. From breaking into the Ice Court, to basic, every day to-do lists. He can do it all mentally, and keep track of everything that way, but he likes writing it all down. IT’s a way of taking control and it’s grounding/calming. Probably has an old blackboard/some chalk in his office at The Slat. It’s stimmy and it means he can doodle elaborate lists and plans all over it.

-Most of his stims are small things that he can hide. The streets worked out the notable ones from him a long time ago. He strokes the head of his cane, tracing all of the deep lines and groves in it, lingering on patches that are especially smooth. He flexes his hands - the feeling of the leather gloves curling around them is especially Good. Is also prone to leg dancing and finger tapping (especially to music. He picks out the beats of any nearby music and taps along to the them) But they’re all things that he can be discreet about. He used to hum, but when he was abandoned on the streets it was too much of a giveaway and he trained himself to stop.

-Kaz saying he has a headache when he becomes overloaded because he doesn’t know how else to explain that he needs to leave this place now.

-First signs of him heading towards a meltdown is always irritability. He becomes v easily frustrated, snaps sharply if interrupted, becomes frantic if he can’t easily find something, and is agitated and irritated by even small sounds in his vicinity. Will murder you for being too Loud when he’s like this because he just can’t deal with it.

-Never has meltdowns in front of other people. He instinctively suppresses them in public/on a job. This typically causes a massive shutdown afterwards. he locks himself in his room, turns off all the light, and buries himself in his bed where it’s dark and quiet. He refuses to see anyone during that time, and everyone knows not to bother him/to let him recover in peace.

-Has shutdowns more frequently than meltdowns. Becomes nonverbal during them, very withdrawn and unresponsive - typically the only communication anyone gets out of him then is nods/shakes of the head.

-Bad trauma days make his sensory issues much, much worse. Some days he can’t leave his room because the very feel of the air on his skin is too much. He won’t even let Inej see him on those days, he needs to be alone to be able to meltdown/stim and process everything the way he needs to.

-Occassionally becomes utterly Consumed by short but very very intense special interests. Once developed one in baking, it only lasted about a week but it was Intense. He was covered in flour for days and was constantly trying new things, and tweaking old recipes to make them completely perfect. Only Kaz could turn cake-making into a form of science. He experimented with different methods of mixing, different amounts of flour, the order he added the ingredients in etc etc etc. The Dregs were baffled but delighted. Nina swears she has never eaten better waffles in her entire life.

-His cane becomes a comfort object, he gets really angsty if he doesn’t have it close at hand at all times. His gloves are comfort objects too, even if he manages to stop wearing them all the time, he always keeps them on him. Inej brings him back a small, smooth, polished stone she found on her travels - it becomes a comfort object, too. He always has it in his pocket.

-Can recreate maps/building plans he’s studied incredibly accurately....But he has no sense of direction. Frequently gets lost in The Slat. Only manages to navigate the city bc he’s carefully memorised maps/routes/landmarks.

-APD has him threatening to gag Jesper at least twice a week because ‘I can’t process two different speakers/conversations at once, Jesper shut up.’

-Loves listening to Wylan play flute. Will legit sit and listen to him quietly for hours. Wylan starts noticing when Kaz is getting overloaded and, if he’s able, will discreetly play for a little while to help ground him.

-One time Inej changed her perfume an he became so irritated and bothered and he couldn’t understand why which was almost more frustrating. Eventually she realised what was wrong.

-Hates clothes with high/tight collars, they feel like they’re strangling him.

-I’m not entirely sure if this is possible Heartrender wise, or rather, if it was possible pre-parem but, like, humour me okay? He asks Nina to use her abilities to lessen the quality of his hearing/eyesight/touch, just slightly, and only for short periods of time, but it really helps when he’s becoming overloaded.

-Will cut you if you fuck with his routine/his plans in any way. (Always has v precise, detailed plans and no, we can’t go there first, because if we go there first then x, y, z will happen, and we won’t be able to do that, and the world will end no just everybody do as I say I have worked this shit out)

-Absently stroking Inej’s hair = The Best Stim.

-The pickiest of picky eaters.

-Kaz ‘I don’t like new things’ Brekker. Nina despairs over him bc he orders exactly the same thing every single time they go out for anything to eat.

-One time a restaurant took his item off their menu and Kaz Twitched uncomfortably until the owner told him they kept a few of the necessary ingredients on-hand for him so he could still have it. All of Ketterdam relaxed and a shrine was later built to this good woman’s sense.

-Had to carefully teach himself to read each individual person’s tone/expressions/body language etc for each job. He constantly studies people and improves his understanding of them - it’s like watching for tells in a fight/card game, but with everything. Keeps very detailed, very extensive notes. Doesn’t realise that not everyone has to do this until Nina spots his notes on her and is just like ??? Kaz ??? is this necessary ?????

-Dsypraxia!Kaz - performs incredible precise, delicate, deft lock-picking one minute. Bangs into the corner of a desk the next bc it was moved an inch to the right of its usual spot.

-One day, Mathias decides to be ‘helpful’ and sets about fixing up The Slat. Kaz walks in and freezes. ‘No.’ ‘But the floorboards were creaking here so-’ ‘No.’ ‘The roof leaked a little, I thought-’ ‘No.’ ‘The carpets were-’ ‘No.’ ‘The paintwork could use a little freshening u-’ ‘No.’ Kaz threatens to drown him in the fresh tin of paint he has open and ready next to him and methodically undoes all of Mathias’ fixes until the Slat is creaking, whistling, leaking, and tripping people up as it should.

-One time Nina got bored and decided to rearrange the furniture ‘for a change’. This did not go down well.

-Gunshots are sensory hell tbh.

-Views literally everything in terms of business arrangements bc it’s the only way he’s learned to really make sense of social interactions?? People are loyal to him bc he knows their secrets, and bc he’s the most beneficial to their interests than any other gang leader in Ketterdam. People will do favours for him bc he’s done things for them in the past/would do in the future. ‘I will make you waffles today, and you will promise to help me with my sensory shit at a later date when I need you to. The deal is the deal.’ ‘Uh...Kaz...We’re friends?????’ Kaz: *this does not compute* *Nina sighs and just nods and yes, yes, u strange boy, just prepare me my waffles*

-He slowly starts to understand things on a more personal/intimate/informal level when he’s with Inej and they start getting closer. But he still, at the end of the day, rationalises/makes sense of everything via a structure that’s simple, and logical to him, and that’s by viewing it as a job. Inej is patient with him, and pretty understanding...As long as he never gets to the point of, like, ‘I have kissed you three times today, this equates to a ten minute leg massage, I would like to cash this in now, please.’ (He never does. (Except once when he was teasing her about it and she just like ffs, kaz, u had me for a minute there.))

-Has a ‘mutually beneficial relationship’ with a stray cat he insists he hasn’t adopted. He feeds it and gives it somewhere warm to sleep. In return it is an A++++ stim toy. V soft and it’s a great, warm presssure stim when it curls up in his lap which is obviously the only reason he lets it do this. But he has not adopted it, this is strictly a business arrangement- I can see you rolling your eyes at me, Nina. (Its name is ‘Demjin.’)

410 notes · View notes