#━━ ˟ �� ✰ answered: ic ⋮ i am a vulture that feeds on pain.

[byanyan]

✏️ >:)!!

incorrect quotesㅤㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting!! )

byan, on the phone: what’s up, marg? margaret: i’m sitting in a pool of blood. byan: …um, is it your blood? margaret: i think so. byan: do you know where the blood’s coming from? margaret: probably the stab wound. byan: YOU’VE BEEN STABBED?! margaret: oh, yeah, definitely.

byan: can you keep a secret? margaret: do you know anything about my life? byan: no, i don't. good point.

margaret: you look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river. byan: wrong. i look like a cool rock star who just od'd in their own pool. big difference.

margaret: good news! byan: you found where i hid your phone? margaret: … byan: ...you found your phone?

[byanyan]

ㅤhe's faster to respond this time, that's good. then again, he's had a lot more warning this time around, and one previous experience to build off of. he's picking things up pretty quickly too, almost surprising them when they feel his arm wrapping around their shoulder — it's a good sign though, it shows an eagerness that his nerves must have been concealing.

despite being one to enjoy a lot more intensity in a kiss, byan suspects that this is already fairly overwhelming for sol, still too new to the whole thing to be prepared for anything more than a simple, baseline kiss. so... that's what they give him. taking it slow, they keep the movement of their lips gentle and easy, leading the way through example, guiding him through a much less spontaneous kiss. it's... kind of nice, actually. there's something very pleasant about the act — maybe it's the simplicity of it? or maybe it has something to do with this being sol, someone they consider a friend, who they've grown relatively close with? orrr... perhaps it's the lack of pressure for anything more?

ㅤ—whatever it might be, byan can't deny that they're enjoying themself.

ㅤㅤ" how's'at? "ㅤquestion comes in a low murmur when they pull back a few moments later, though not so far away that he won't be able to feel their breath against his lips. eyes flutter open, eager to see the other's reaction, and already their grin is beginning to creep its way across their features once more, inquiry present in the way they quirk an eyebrow.ㅤ" better than the first one? or should we keep goin' 'til we really get it right? "

when they give him that look, checking to see if he's okay with this, his heart flutters. there's something about that look that makes his heart go crazy, he doesn't know what it is about them. that damn grin of theirs, makes him feel things he's never felt before. he does appreciate the way they're going about this, if they just kissed him right then and there, he'd probably have the same reaction as last time.

he's given more time to prepare himself for the kiss, but no amount of preparation can keep the nerves at bay. he's just really thankful that he's anticipating it.

although, at the same time, the fact that they're making him wait starts to make him antsy. especially when their faces are inches apart. a soft gasp escapes his lips when their arm wraps around their face, but he quickly relaxes. their lips finally meet, and sol immediately kisses back, practically melting into the kiss. his eyes close, and he eventually wraps drapes his arm over their shoulder.

it's funny, he never understood the appeal of kissing someone, but with their lips on his... he's beginning understand.

[thefairefolk-rp]

Welcome, Mor! Your application for Alekto Bone has been accepted!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Nickname: Mor

Age: 22

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Timezone: Central Time Zone

Activity and Availability (Please answer in words as well as rating your availability from 1-10): For activity, 6 or 7 seems accurate. I will typically answer as soon as I can and write whenever possible, normally I can get replies out within 24 to 48 hours of whenever I see the post. Availability is at 8, I’m almost always on at some point during the day but my schedule is erratic and I am frequently occupied and so, while I may not be able to immediately reply or post, I am online and able to deal with messaging or lurking in the feed and able to read whatever comes by.

Have you read the rules and FAQ?: yes I have read both and the lore made available by your navigation pages.

IC INFORMATION: Desired Character: Alekto Bone Second Choice Character: Mordrid Fagan

What made you choose this character?: When I read through your character list, there were a handful that caught my eye immediately, this was one of them. I’ve played many characters in the past, on all parts of the moral scale, but Alekto, willing to give up everything for power and still seeking more after she got it, is something new exactly because she doesn’t care about right or wrong, all that matters is how a situation benefits her. “But, her own ambition for power overwhelmed her conscience.” This caught my attention because of what it suggests about the character. One, that she has something of a conscience even if it’s less to her than what she can gain from a situation, meaning that Alekto is more than just selfishness and greed driving her actions. Two, she’s private and cautious about others and clearly values her power, which means she wouldn’t have risked everything for a cause she wasn’t absolutely certain had a chance of winning or at the very least is so confident in her skills that she saw the reward outweighing the risk of treason.

It’s this mix of pride and ambition that contrasts against caution and what strikes me as fear of loosing what she has that drew me to Alekto as a character when I first read over the bio, along with the notion of playing a character who is so strongly driven by personal gain and gladly uses the power at her disposal, which is something I don’t get to do often. There’s a level of darkness in her that is very different from the “good” characters I usually play, and I would love to continue to explore the character as well as how she plays into the plot and interacts with others.

Are there any changes you would like to make?: No. Everything is wonderful.

Questions/Comments: This group is amazing, your plot and lore is so well developed and as an extensive para rper I love the fact that you guys rp in the same way. And you have hundreds of well developed characters that are open and available, which is incredible enough on its own. Thank you for all your help and please, if there are any problems now or in the future let me know. This has also become a thing out of the work of a few days: https://www.pinterest.com/bonesinthegrcund/alekto-bone/

Also the writing sample got long (not on purpose I swear) but I promise I can write shorter if needed and I tend to match length with whoever I rp with unless asked otherwise

Writing Sample (Must be 300 words or more, third person limited, in the character you’re auditioning for’s point of view): Fear was a powerful motivator. And yet, despite the knowledge of what happened to thieves in the Unseelie Court, and what happened to thieves who took from the royal family, the faerie captured by two of the Magi that morning for attempting to steal from the castle had still smiled and confessed with a nonchalance that made it difficult for Alekto to decide if he was brave or just a fool who still believed he could talk his way out of his situation. She settled on the latter, and had gleaned as much information as possible on the criminal. Hob, poor, a daughter and a wife. Desperate. The Archmage watched as the he was dragged forth in chains before the king in a public display to show off what happened to criminals, a warning to the people. She only half listened to the thief as he growled about the corruption of the Aven family and promised that there would be more like him, which was soon cut off by a blow to his back by one of the knights demanding silence.

While the poor shifted uneasily, the exception being the more malicious fae who looked as if invited to a banquet, the nobles previously leering around the room like vultures awaiting a fresh corpse had already quickly started to loose interest in the faerie that was already condemned even if he did not yet know it, as always only caring about such matters so long as they were an entertainment. There was little doubt that many watched the king and those leading his forces with the same attention, searching for weakness and leverage to use in the future. They were creatures of opportunity, just as Alekto was, and she gave them no such pleasure. Archmage; she had always believed the title suited her well, the black robes tailored to fit perfectly and glamoured to appear as if she was clothed in darkness itself, the position one she had carved and taken for herself by raw power and skill, not by the inheritance and bribery of the nobility. She made subtle changes to the magic around her appearance, a dangerous gleam in her eyes that extended beyond the natural, an increased sharpness to her features… and found satisfaction in the way some averted their gaze from hers the second they noticed that she was staring back.

For a second, the thief looked at her as he announced that he didn’t care what happened to him. It sparked something within Alekto that responded to the challenge, the corners of her lips twitching up momentarily in a way reminiscent of the smile of a predator. It had been the Magi that apprehended them, and it was the Magi that would be best suited to make him reveal his secrets when Oberon got tired of hearing him talk. It didn’t take long, his words changed from nonchalance to insult and the king’s expression darkened even more than the Archmage’s, cruelty and anger clearly showing with no need for a glamour of any kind to enhance it. Alekto stepped forward at his motion, the command simple and clear.

“Break him.”

Her robes swirled in the air as she moved, giving the appearance that she was gliding through the air rather than walking. Hob, poor… Alekto regarded his defiant expression and smile with contempt, tilting her head to the side and examining his shackled wrists and feet. A daughter and a wife… She stopped a few feet away from him, watched his face turn from stubborn hubris to horror as she brought forth the illusions of his child and spouse, realistic to a point that had it not been for the fact that they were not present moments ago, one could have easily believed they were physically there. Fear was a powerful motivator, but love was stronger. And when the glamour-created fae began to suffer and cry out in pain, when images rapidly flashed before the thief of his loved ones suffering his punishment and worse, he finally cracked, begging for it to stop and for his family‘s safety, all that bravado gone in an instant. Too real to be dismissed as an illusion, and the message was made very clear. The same could easily be done to the real versions of his family, the king already knew their faces.

The Archmage did not stop, listening intently to every word that came from the pitiful figure thrashing against his chains as he began to give out names and locations, attempting to bargain for the lives of his family. Desperate. Her attention only doubled when he mentioned knowing more, offering contacts and affiliations if his torment ended through violent sobs, though she showed no outward reaction. It was only when the thief had crumbled on the floor, reduced to nothing more than quiet begging and tears, that the king ordered it to finish. Alekto lingered for a heartbeat before complying, the illusions breaking and her magic withdrawing until once again the only glamours she held were the ones around herself. She cast a glance at the preening nobility, now silent and watching the tormented man before them. Oberon ordered that the hob be locked away, having gained yet another example to what happened to those who defied him. For Alekto, it was a display of her power and what she could easily do at a moment’s notice. And not a single faerie in the public could bring themselves to look her in the eyes after such a display.

Later that night, she glamoured her clothes and appearance to appear as a red-haired delicate wisp of a fae, far more the graceful Seelie than Unseelie and with no resemblance of her true self, and crept through the castle to the imprisoned thief with aid from her magic. The guards would later report that an unknown woman had snuck through their ranks unseen and released the prisoner, helping him escape and giving him more than enough time to leave with his family. The king’s fury ended with them being harshly punished for the failure, while Alekto had gained herself both respect and fear amongst the court as well as eyes and ears within the criminal affiliations plaguing it, something which would make her life far easier in the future. And she intended to take advantage of both to their fullest extent.

[alexander-----hamilton-blog]

Afraid To Love (Part Two)

Part One (Afraid To Love)

Part Three (Just Friends)

Part Four (Jealousy)

Part Five (The End)

Part Six (A Way Out)

Part Seven (Three Questions)

Part Eight (The Girl He Loves)

~~~ “The One”

~~~~~~~       I don’t want you to love me because I’m good for you, because I say and do all the right things. Because I am everything you have been looking for. ~~~~~~~

      Peter, Ned, and you grew tremendously close to each other, to the point where you would notice when once you would have something going on. Which is why when Peter began to act strangely and suddenly stop using his glasses, you knew something was up.

      You would ask Aunt May about it regularly, asking for updates on whether he was feeling sick or acted like that at home, but it was always answered with an ‘I’m not sure.’

      Six months after Peter changed, he started to cancel on eating sandwiches with you and Ned after school, claiming that his Stark Internship was taking up most of his time. You also began to notice little things like him coming back to school with scratches and bruises, saying he fell in his way home. After a couple weeks of that, you payed more attention to what times he was gone to see if maybe that added up or fit in with something. And sure enough it did.

~~~~~~~       I want to be the one you didn’t see coming. The one who gets under your skin. ~~~~~~~

      You were on your way to Peter’s apartment, reciting what you were gonna tell him in your head. Your hand was in knocking position when the door swung open, Peter nearly shoving past you with his backpack in his arms. “Y/N? What- what’re you- what’re you doing here?”

      “I came to talk to you. And don’t try to cut me off with that Stark Internship bullshit, Peter.” You huffed. “Because we both know that’s not what you’re actually doing.”

      The boy opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, arms still clutching his backpack. “B-But it is the Stark Internship! I promise!” You rolled your eyes, hand extending to snatch the pack away from, him but he moved away. “C'mon, Y/N, you don’t have to do this.”

      Your e/c eyes zeroed in on the object in his possession. “Oh, but I do, Peter.” You lunged at him and managed to latch onto the backpack, gripping it tightly so you couldn’t let go even if Peter tried to push you away. Your fingers found their way onto the zipper of it, so you tugged until it opened.

~~~~~~~       Who makes you unsteady. Who makes you question everything you have ever believed about love. ~~~~~~~

      The sleeve of a red and blue suit hung out through the opening, your eyes widening. “I was right.”

      Peter gaped at you and rushed to closed his backpack, throwing over his shoulder. “Th-That’s an old costume. I got it a long time ago for Halloween.”

      “You were dressing up as Spiderman for Halloween?” You questioned.

      “Yeah, yeah!” He nodded, gulping nervously. “I’m a huge fan!”

      You stepped closer to him, narrowing your eyes at the flustered boy. “Such a big fan that you dressed as him four months before he was even a thing? Plus, we hung out on Halloween, Peter, and you sure as hell weren’t wearing spandex.”

~~~~~~~       I want to be the one who makes you feel reckless and out of control; ~~~~~~~

      The next day at school, Peter told you everything. From him being the masked vigilante that roams New York with webs to the fact that Ned knew and didn’t tell you. You were a bit pissed off, but soon moved past it when Peter told you he’d get you ice cream as an apology.

~~~~~~~       The one you are infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to. ~~~~~~~

      You were completely fine with Peter’s missions and whatnot, but when it got to him nearly dying in an attempt to fight Vulture, your concern acted up like a motherfucker.

      Peter arrived at your window Homecoming night, faced bruised up and bleeding and his homemade suit torn. You immediately shot up to help him inside, shutting your bedroom door and pulling your wounded friend onto your bed. His cheeks were dirty, with just a few clean strands signaling he had been crying.

      Your fingers delicately worked on every cut and bruise there was, wincing when you heard him whimper in pain or discomfort. “You have to be much more careful, Peter. You look like you were trying to put out a house fire inside another house fire while dogs were fucking attacking you.”

      You took care of him the entire time he was there, and almost didn’t let him go back home in fear he’d hurt himself even more.

~~~~~~~       I don’t want to be the one who tucks you into bed; ~~~~~~~

      Peter, Ned, and you sat at the same table Monday afternoon during lunch, your hand pushing your tray towards the two boys and letting them eat your food. You remember being in a slight daydream, staring at the table, when someone smacked a tray into the spot next to you. Michelle Jones—now known as MJ by her friends—sat down next to you, her usually bored eyes hiding the slightest bit of interest. “Is this all you three do? Sit silently while Y/N feeds you two?”

      You laid your head in your hands and made sure no one could see you before rolling your eyes. Neither Peter nor Ned had told you had would be accompanied by MJ. It’s not that you don’t like her, it’s just that she is far too observant for your taste and will most likely find out feelings hidden in you that you didn’t know about.

      The light illuminated your eyes again when you raised your head from its previous position. As nice as it felt to be conscious of the world around you, you wished you hadn’t put your head up at that time. Your eyes found themselves blankly staring at Michelle giving Peter a look that didn’t seem like something just a friend would give another friend. You found yourself inspecting Peter’s gaze at MJ, only to realize it was identical to the one she was giving him.

~~~~~~~       I want to be the reason why you can’t sleep at night. ~~~~~~~

                      —Lang Leav

[byanyan]

A rather curious "mao" rings out from behind the delinquent teen!

The source is a black cat! The type of feline anyone superstitious would equate to bad luck. But there doesn't seem to be anything ominous about this cat, no. It's fur was a glossy sheen, as though it were being well taken care of, but no collar presented any sign of ownership. It was easy enough to diagnose that it was another one of the many strays littered about the city! And this one took a curious interest in Byan!

(Yet another scary and brutal entity disguised as something cute for Byan's collection LMAO)

ㅤfootsteps slow at the sound behind them, then draw to a pause so byan can turn to look at the creature trailing along behind them. as expected, it's a cat, and nothing about this strikes them as particularly strange. in fact, it's quite common for them to be approached by strays while wandering through the city — they've built a rapport with a large number of them over the years, after all, and thus find both cats and dogs alike come seeking food or attention whenever they cross paths again.

ㅤㅤ" hey, kitty. "ㅤa lopsided smile takes shape, though the teen hesitates for a moment if only to shoot a quick glance around the area just to be sure no one is watching. once it's been ascertained that they are indeed alone, they settle their attention back on the feline and drop to a crouch in front of it.

ㅤㅤ" what's up? "ㅤasked like it can even respond, byan extends a hand to be sniffed and looks the cat over. difficult as it can be to tell one black cat apart from another, it's certainly not impossible, and they can't help but notice that this one is unfamiliar.

ㅤㅤ" don't think i've seen you 'round before... "ㅤthey muse, a touch surprised by the revelation. while it's truly not uncommon for them to be approached by strays, it is rare for ones they've not met before to come up to them so easily like this... maybe this is a housecat that escaped while its owners weren't looking? that would explain how obviously friendly and curious it is... —whatever the case, they slip their backpack off and set it on the ground between them, unzipping one of the front pockets and slipping a hand inside.

ㅤㅤ" you hungry? think i've still got a lil bag'a treats in here... "ㅤyep, there it is— with a quiet crinkle, they pull free a foil packet and tear the zipper open. dumping a few fish shaped pellets into their hand, the teen extends it toward their new friend once more.ㅤ" sorry s'not somethin' better. forgot t' replace the good ones when i ran out, but hey— better'n nothin', right? "

[byanyan]

✏️✏️✏️ [Big Bro Jae, of course]

incorrect quotes once againㅤㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting!!! )

byan: punch me in the face. jae-hyo: …punch you? byan: yes, punch me, didn’t you hear me? jae-hyo: i always hear ‘punch me in the face’ while you’re speaking but it’s usually just subtext.

byan: can i bother you for a second? jae-hyo: you're always bothering me, but go ahead.

jae-hyo, holding a fork: you know, you're talking a lot of shit for someone who has two perfectly good eyeballs that each cost about $16,000 on the blackmarket. byan: …. jae-hyo: *lip smack*

byan: that’s a crazy idea. insane. it doesn’t make sense. jae-hyo: you’ll do it? byan: of course.

[byanyan]

✏️:3

incorrect quotes once againㅤㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting!!! )

byan: i wish i had more enemies. croc: i’m sure you will someday, kiddo.

byan: you want some leftovers? croc: what are those? byan: you've never had leftovers before? croc: no, ‘cause i’m not a quitter.

[while planning to break in somewhere] croc: hey, let's do "get help!" byan: what? croc: "get help." byan: no. croc: c'mon, you love it! byan: i hate it. croc: it's great! it works every time! byan: it's humiliating. croc: do you have a better plan? byan: no. croc: we're doing it! byan: we are not doing "get help!" [a minute later] croc, carrying byan: get help! please! they're dying! help them! *throws byan at the guards, knocking them out* croc: ahh, classic! byan, getting up: i still hate it. it's humiliating. croc, laughing: not for me, it's not.

byan: if you don't stop talking, i'm going to jump out of that window. croc: …we're on the ground floor. byan: i know but i want a dramatic exit.

[byanyan]

✏️ do as many of these as u like!!!

incorrect quotes once againㅤㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting!!! )

byan: that's it, i'm cutting off the internet! elinor: no, please don't! i have a family to feed! byan: byan: what? elinor: i need to feed my neopets!

byan: would anyone know any good vendors for professional-quality brass knuckles? elinor: i know you’re serious, but you say the scariest shit sometimes.

[while waiting outside the principal’s office] byan: what are you in for? elinor: oh, they just want to know if it’s cool if i miss my classes tomorrow to run sound and lights for a presentation in the auditorium. what about you? byan: i stabbed a kid with a screwdriver. elinor: byan: elinor: we live very different lives. byan: yes we do.

byan: you know what the problem is? you're really cute, so no one ever told you to shut your pie-hole. elinor: you think i’m cute? byan: SHUT YOUR PIE-HOLE!

[byanyan]

first thing she noticed is how rude they are. awkjdfdkgh (I'm sorry it's the first thing to come to mind. she was legit like EXCUSE ME on their first meet bc byan just casually seated themself across from her, no permission. )

the first thing your muse noticed about byanㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting! )

ㅤ" —hOw RuDe ThEy ArE. "ㅤpetulant mockery comes in an intentionally annoying high-pitched voice. it's almost like they're not trying to beat the allegations, rather they want to prove them as true.ㅤ" can't believe you're still annoyed 'bout that. 'f you think that was rude, you ain't seen nothin' yet. "

[byanyan]

✏️.

incorrect quotesㅤㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting!! )

byan: good morning. as you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer. angela: byan: angela: …please, go back to bed.

angela: oh, they left the bowl out? angela: it says, “take two pieces of candy.” byan: nobody around though… [ byan grabs the entire bowl and runs off with it ] angela: NO—

byan: i don’t care what anyone thinks about me. angela: ok. byan: wait, why such a muted reaction? did that not sound cool?

byan: people tell me i have a unique way of lighting up a room. angela: it’s called arson and those people are called witnesses.

[byanyan]

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ❝in case it escaped your notice, I care about you!❞ ( from haru )

bullying the traumatizedㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting )

ㅤthey are... upset, to put it simply. words that should probably come as a comfort, that surely would be taken as such by most anyone else, only serve to flare their temper further. i care about you. such a simple sentence, one they've craved to hear and be able to believe for a very very long time, and yet... it only adds frustration to an already overwhelming and confusing flurry of emotion.

a foot stomps loudly against the floor and byan rounds on haru like she's spewed some hard-hitting insult at them.

ㅤㅤ" why? why?! "ㅤtheir shout is as demanding as it is accusatory. deep down, some part of them wants to believe that she means what she says, but a much bigger, more deeply scorned part of them simply can't. it demands reason, demands proof, because it cannot fathom why she'd bother to give a damn about them. they haven't exactly given her reason to; quite the contrary, actually — they've done nothing but intentionally cause trouble for haru and xiao both, determined to be a thorn in their sides and maintain a safe distance.

ㅤㅤ" you ain't got no fuckin' reason to give a shit about me, so why? why do you care, huh?! an' don't gimme any'a that 'you're livin' in my house' or 'you're part'a the family now' shit, 'cause that's what it is, alright? it's bullshit! sure as hell never stopped anyone else! "ㅤfrom lying about caring, that is; from claiming to care only to hurt them, use them, abandon them over and over again. byan might be high as a kite and in the middle of an emotional breakdown, but they still know better than to spew any of those facts verbally. they still know better than to actively expose that vulnerability. instead, they do what they've always done best: they yell, and they break things. the cup in their hand goes straight to the floor, shattering in an instant and scattering glass and the remainder of the water they'd been drinking across the otherwise pristine tile.

ㅤㅤ" i don't need you to care! "ㅤa lie.ㅤ" i don't want you to care! "ㅤanother lie.ㅤ" just— fuck!! "ㅤwith a frazzled bark of a shout, hands rise to their head and grab fistfuls of their hair like that might help them sort out their disorganized thoughts and chaotic feelings. they should have just stayed out all night, then they wouldn't have to deal with this.ㅤ" —leave me alone! "

[byanyan]

" Your arm markings are strange. What do they mean?"

ㅤeyebrows raising slightly at the question, byan glances down at their exposed arms and the numerous colourful 'markings' which cover them.

ㅤㅤ" they mean that this mortal vessel of mine contains a latent ancient power which, once i come of age, i will finally have access to and use to overthrow humanity, as i'm destined to do. "ㅤwords spoken with an utterly straight face, wide eyes flit back up to khazaan's face where they hold his gaze for several moments.

then, a cheeky grin abruptly takes over their features and byan laughs, waving a hand in dismissal.

ㅤㅤ" nah, i'm just fuckin' with ya. what, you never seen tattoos before? they're just, like, for decoration. i mean, some of 'em have meanin's, but some of 'em are just things i like, and others i just thought looked cool. i'd offer to give you one, but i feel like i'd break the needle trynna get it through your skin. "

[byanyan]

torment byan with abba and dad rock.

ㅤpulls out a shiny pink baseball bat and starts just fucking beating on the speaker until it's nothing but hundreds of shattered, irreparable pieces of plastic and metal.

[byanyan]

✏️ + Kit & Tea

incorrect quotes once againㅤㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting!!! )

tea: i assume you realize that this kind of idiocy will not be tolerated in this house. byan: is there any kind of idiocy you would be more comfortable with?

tea, about to leave the house: don’t spend all day watching youtube, okay? byan: I FORGE MY OWN PATH!!

tea: if i had a kid, i imagine they'd be a lot like you. byan: aww, thanks— tea: probably why i've never reproduced.

kit: i need life advice. byan, sipping gatorade and eating cookie dough: you came to the right person.

kit: i’m sad. byan: don’t be sad, because sad backwards is das. byan: and das not good.

byan: advice of the day kids, if you ever meet someone who calls gatorade flavors the actual name of the flavor instead of just the color then they are a certified nerd. kit: yeah but you have to specify, frost glacier or cool blue? you can’t just say blue because there’s more than one blue. byan: blue and light blue, nice try nerd.

[byanyan]

✏️ >:D

incorrect quotes once againㅤㅤㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting!!! )

margaret: where have you been all day? byan: oh, just dealing with things way beyond my maturity level.

margaret: byan, fuck off. margaret: and by "fuck off" i mean "fuck off right back here and listen", you insufferable prick.

margaret: petition to remove the 'd' from wednesday. byan: wednesay. margaret: not what i had in mind, but i'm flexible.

byan: i feel so burnt out. margaret: don’t worry, it'll be over soon. byan: ...are you gonna assassinate me? margaret: well not if you’re expecting it.

[byanyan]

Kitty presents Byan a gift: It's not wrapped (Kitty has not got the patience to wrap and tape up an object that isn't a box), but it's a bike helmet to match his own. This time purple and Kuromi-fied. " Happy birthday, brat. Sol told me. "

ㅤstartled not only by the gift presented but by the words which accompany it as well, byan balks at the helmet as they take it into their hands. it's... adorable. having taken no steps to conceal how much they envy kitty's pink, cat-eared bike helmet, it's no wonder that he's taken notice of their appreciation for it. what does come as a surprise, however, is the fact that he would go to the trouble of getting them one of their own — and one that has been customized to some extent, at that.

kitty is selfish. it's something byan is very aware of and even appreciates about him, because they can relate. because there's an honesty in it. in a way, it validates their own 'i'm out for me and only me' mentality. yet here they are, the selfish kitty presenting them with a gift on their birthday, one which he has to know that they'll absolutely love, and they... aren't really sure of how to react to such a thing, let alone to what it might mean.

unfortunately for them, while they don't know how to react, their body sure seems to. alarmed by the sudden and entirely unexpected sensation of a certain stinging in the corners of their eyes and the embarrassed flush of their cheeks which quickly follows, the teen's head promptly lowers under the guise of getting a closer look at one of the kuromi decals. a painted, glittering nail traces over the image, and byan tries to swallow the small lump that's formed in their throat.

it's so stupid, getting emotional over a fucking helmet. it doesn't mean anything, he probably just felt obligated to get them something after sol told him it was their birthday. (they know that's not the case; kitty doesn't do obligations. that knowledge doesn't make it any easier to will back their stupid fucking tears though.) biting at the inside of their lip, byan flips the visor open and feels the padding inside with a couple fingers, all in the name of trying to buy as many seconds of silence to collect themself as possible.

ㅤㅤ" knew i should'a told 'im not t' say anythin', "ㅤthey finally mumble with a faux nonchalance, though they're unable to do so without a quiet sniff that they hope kitty won't think much of. he of all people can't see them cry, they'll be too mortified to ever show their face again if he does. they'd never live it down. snapping the visor shut again, clearing their throat and still looking pointedly down and the pretty purple sheen of the helmet clasped between their hands, the soft beginnings of a smirk tugs at the corner of byan's mouth despite themself.

ㅤㅤ" ...so s'is mean you're gonna let me drive your bike 'stead'a makin' me ride bitch all the time? "