#born to be a rich kid locked in room playing video games all day

[doctorweebmd]

Honestly I am very good at being at home

[lorehua]

heyhey! this is me, ya girl, introducing to you your local ( soft ) goth boi. awkward boi. shy boi. that is he, but he sweet.. just visually intimidating at first glance before you get to know him. so yea! this is lore ( or you can come up with a cute lil nickname, tho he flusters easily ), and he is a faceless twitch streamer / youtuber that pretends to be a video / social media editor to anyone that asks his job because he’s scared of being recognised ( doesn’t mean your muse can’t but lemme know! ). but yea, a few months ago he sort of shot up to fame from like a small following to a massive one so he kinda rags to riches rn!

either way, if you wanna plot then like this post!! and i’m gonna summarise below, but would be real cool if you checked out his stuff to!

( tw: abuse & mental health ) background | profile | pinterest | plots ( tbd )

basics: nianzu “lore” huang | 24 | faceless entity on the internet ( goes by ghost ) | gay as hell | goth / punk as hell | tatted and pierced up to hell | struggling through hell

was born to good parents but they died when he was 7 and lore was sent to live with his aunt and uncle whilst his older siblings went to his grandparents ( a very odd predicament they were all too young to really question much ) 

he was born in taiwan, his parents lived and were raised there but his aunt and uncle had moved to korea for business ( and his grandparents were already in the business of travelling back and forth for their kids ) so when he moved with his aunt and uncle he moved to korea, and his grandparents followed so they weren’t all split up too much

long story short ; aunt and uncle were pretty severely mentally and physically abusive to lore. extremely controlling to in anything he did, so it led to him not going to school as much, making friends really ( or many ) or seeing his siblings properly. he was neglected a lot and sort of learned how to do things for himself through that as well

he was 16 when his oldest sibling got him out of it and took him in instead ( he doesn’t remember much of what happened but his aunt and uncle were arrested ). the whole thing really did mess with him though

basically he dropped out of school then too and he went to therapy for a year or two but it got too expensive, but it helped at least a little but he was still left with difficulty in most things social ( like going out much or actually talking to people and making friends tbh )

when he was around twenty his siblings convinced him to start streaming since he did spend a lot of time messing about with games and shit. but they convinced him to because well.. just talking to them and his grandparents wasn’t enough social interaction apparently

so he did and he built up a small but nice little following and people enjoyed his content and just listening to his play or ramble sometimes. he was a lot more comfortable talking to a chat than.. people

that being said, he did become friends with other streamers eventually and does a lot of multiplayer things with them - which is honestly what led to his intense fame explosion honestly

he ended up being invited to stream with a few very very known names in the gaming community and it just shot him up. people liked him and within weeks he’d gone from the smallest number of followers to a couple million and rising

his friends made him make a youtube as well and he already knew how to edit videos from his previous online jobs, so it was easy for him. so really he went from nothing to everything

he went from being basically broke ( any of his money, which was like nothing, went to his siblings to help them out for letting him crash at theirs and do nothing tbh ) to having enough to give full amounts to them and actually take care of himself and his mental health tbh finally. he didn’t have to worry about finance for once

so with that tho boi still refuses to do a face reveal and just brushes over it when it’s asked bcos n o

but either way, the money problem was solved but his siblings didn’t really feel like the social situation was and sorta maybe pushed him into taking a room in the sharehouse bcos well it would be good for him and well here he is now. fucking terrified

personality:

gentle. gentle boi

lore is a very soft muse despite how he can come off ( which by that i mean he comes off as distant, maybe a little aloof and intimidating - this based on the fact he is very much a gothic / punk kid covered in tattoos and piercings who isn’t really use to social interaction or the best at it )

so he’s real soft though, and just really sweet. like he has a very pure heart.. his sense of humour is dark and he can be a piece of shit sometimes, but he has a very sweet soul. like he’s awkward as hell sometimes and tbh he’ll go from looking intimidating to fumbling horribly over trying to say hello to someone and then scoot off bcos fuckin words man

that being said he does have a lot of baggage and a lot to work through that he’s finally getting help for, so it’s another reason he can come off pretty closed off sometimes, especially because like.. his social limit when it hits zero just means he’ll either slink out quietly or curl up and watch everyone and listen instead of taking part in conversation

his anxiety has sort of ruled his life as well, it’s led to him finding social situations really difficult ( like if a conversation goes differently to how he thought it would he !!! panics a bit for a minute ), and he’s working through that now and the complex is sort of a trial for him on that too.. but he gets by

that being said, kinda stated it a little but he can be dark and he’s pretty pessimistic because he finds it hard to look on the bright side of things, so he’d rather joke about it. it’s just hard for him to see the good in somethings and not fear the future either

on stream / youtube he does come off more confident though and more comfortable. like he gets jittery when playing with new people or big groups, but it’s a lot easier for him and he has fun with them. like his streams usually last a long time so it’s just such a change from how he can come off in real life ( which frustrated him a little because he wishes he could be that comfortable all the time )

extras:

he keeps his room pretty much locked all the time bcos well privacy and his streaming and stuff he kinda keeps the set up completely hidden when he can but he has excuses if he needs them

boi got bad insomnia which he combats poorly already but either way just expect to see him slink into the kitchen at like 2am to make coffee then disappear again ( which tbh if he’s streaming he might honestly leave with coffee and an energy drink because he’s a mess ). but like early morning he can nearly always be found in the kitchen at some point bcos well quiet time - which through that, you probably won’t see him again until the afternoon tbh.. maybe

he does spend days without really coming from his room

uh if you want a stoner buddy… have him

he has social and generalised anxiety, depression and severe insecurities ( it’s why he’s pretty scared of being recognised and scared of a face reveal. he struggles to see anything good about himself, be that physical or like in general )

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: Surprisingly, We Made It!

Author: @thatsrightdollface

For: @namsuuuuuuu

Rating/Warnings: This is probably somewhere between G and T, tbh.  I guess I might tag this for the idea that Chiaki is mentioned as dead?   She’s… A ghost.  This is a fantasy AU!

Prompt: komaeda and hinata both trying to break into the same place on the same night by accident, only to be chased by the police upon meeting and having to hide in a closet/cupboard/safe together until they leave

Author’s Notes: Hi!!!  I hope you enjoy this~ :D  It’s the first gift out of three that I have for you this time, so please be on the lookout for the others!!!  Rounded up, this is about 3,000 words.  

The museum became a different place at night — Nagito Komaeda had known it would, but it was something else to see those bustling halls transformed into a grey-tile tomb like this.  The display cases seemed to watch him pass, waiting and polished, decorated with dead things: mummified hands, chipped pottery, swords people had assured him were definitely haunted when he took the museum’s official tour earlier that day.  Komaeda was good at drifting through places most of the time.  He was sure no one from his tour group would remember him when the museum started looking into suspects the next morning.

Komaeda smiled at somebody’s death mask, sitting propped up on a green velvet display in one of those glass cases.  He wouldn’t be here long.  He’d just take what he needed and be on his way.  The security systems fizzled out as Komaeda wandered by, after all.  Bits of dust formed over the cameras, crawling like mold.  This wouldn’t be the first piece of the puzzle to Komaeda’s life he’d stolen out of a museum. If he unraveled the whole mystery of his good luck/horrible luck curse, the roller coaster balance of his existence, maybe Komaeda would even get to rest someday.  Maybe he’d finally know what any of the ridiculous things that happened to him meant.

Komaeda hummed to himself as he strode through the museum.  He patted a display of a saber tooth tiger on the head and murmured, “Hi, kitty,” in a sing-song voice — he was wearing torn clothes, and the edges of his hair were singed from a fire that’d started out of thin air in his hotel room yesterday morning.  Even the air was subject to Komaeda’s madcap luck, see?  His curse.  Even the air would have to explain itself when Komaeda found the crumbly ancient book he’d come here for.  And, you know, figured out how to read it.  He had an anthropologist contact lined up.  It would be alright.

Things always swung back around, for Komaeda.  The dice rolled into a winning order even if they were weighted to go the other way.  At a cost, of course.  Always at a cost.

Komaeda wouldn’t have to pick the display case lock to get the book he needed, he didn’t think.  The thing would just fall right into his open hands, somehow, and then he’d turn on his heal and head out.  The museum smelled like freshly mopped floors and old, rotting paper.  When Komaeda’d passed a security guard earlier, he had waved cheerfully and pretended to flash a badge.  It worked.  It so often worked, and then Komaeda got arrested for a murder he didn’t commit or something just going out to buy bread.  He was used to it.  As used to it as a person could be, he thought.

When the cop bellowed, “Get back here, you!” somewhere off in the distance, well…  Komaeda murmured, “Oh no,” to himself almost playfully, as if he were keeping up the game.  But then he heard some frantic pounding footsteps right behind him…  The skidding of sneakers  over freshly washed tile, the shattering of a display glass window, all that.  He started to walk a little faster, glancing over his shoulder.

A guy with spiky hair blew by Komaeda, breathing heavily, sneakers squeaking all over the floor in possibly the least-stealthy way possible.  “Get out of here!” the spiky haired guy called.  “Officer Nidai’s not messing around!”

Officer Nidai?  Wonderful.  Komaeda knew Officer Nekomaru Nidai all too well.  Just his luck that guy would be here, wasn’t it?  He’d been suspicious of Komaeda ever since he turned up in town.  Whenever somebody caught Nagito Komaeda in the act, of course he just slipped away again like water between cracks in the concrete.  Like clouds dissolving into the sky.  His luck, eventually, turned.  Always, always.  But that didn’t mean people couldn’t try their own luck at catching him, every now and again.  It was annoying, but Komaeda shrugged off fatal things as “annoying” so often nowadays he was beginning to forget the meaning of the word.

Komaeda sighed and ran a hand through his pale, flyaway hair.  It would’ve been no good to lose this chance — he was so desperately close to another piece of his puzzle.  He stared running, too, and by the time he found an open door to duck inside it sounded like Officer Nidai had been joined by a whole crew of cop-friends in the museum hallways.  They were calling encouragement to each other, or something.  Listening to them might’ve been pretty goofy, under different circumstances.  So tragically earnest. It was like they were living in a separate world than the one Komaeda knew.

“What rotten luck,” Komaeda told the cramped, empty room he’d found himself in.  Or, the room he thought was empty, anyway.

The spiky haired boy who’d been charging through the halls flicked on a desk lamp, peering up at Komaeda with a baffled, frustrated expression on.  He’d been hiding under a table, it looked like, and up close Komaeda could see a whole stash of video game stuff secured in a cutesy canvas shopping bag over his shoulder.  Was that what he snuck in here to steal?  That?  There were so many priceless jeweled glass eyes in this particular museum, so many spells written in actual molten gold ink.  Did this guy seriously just rob the Lost and Found?

“Rotten luck?  That’s, uh, one way of putting it.  I swear I locked that door,” the spiky-haired guy hissed.  Komaeda nodded.  Yes, he probably had.  Locked doors didn’t really have anything on a luck-curse, though, did they?

Komaeda locked the door behind him, again, nodding to the boy under the table with a careful smile.  Testing the door so he could see it didn’t just swing open this time, revealing them both to the hall.  The office they’d ended up in was one of those glorified broom closet spaces, books stacked haphazardly everywhere.  There were pinned butterflies hanging on the walls, and dusty photograph frames buried under paperwork on the desk.  There weren’t any windows or obvious trapdoors leading to secret museum catacombs around — yes, Komaeda had found himself stuck in museum-catacombs before, and he’d nearly starved to death before making his way back to the gift shop.  Not a good chance of that here, though, it didn’t look like.  For better or for worse.

Komaeda sized the spiky haired guy up for a second — he was cute, in a flustered, running-headlong-through-a-museum-at-two-AM kind of way.   His hands were broad and warm-looking; his eyes were challenging and proud, as if he were half-convinced Komaeda was a double agent for the museum or something.

“Looks like we’re stuck,” Komaeda said.  “Don’t worry.  I’m sure they’ll go away soon.”

They didn’t, of course.  Just his luck.

…

Hajime Hinata had only been messing around with supernatural nonsense for a handful of weeks, now, and even he could tell the guy he met on his poorly-planned-out museum heist was soaked in weird old curses.   They clung to this dizzy-eyed stranger same as his own skin, same as his shadow.  Hinata would’ve guessed the guy’d been born with those curses already latched on, honestly, and they were at least part of the reason he could slip locked doors open without even trying.  Part of why his smile looked wrong, too, somehow, like Hinata would always be looking at him through a funhouse mirror.

From the stolen-back bag of video game stuff slung over his shoulder, Hinata’s friend Chiaki Nanami said, “We should keep an eye on this guy, maybe, Hajime.  Everyone he loved died…  Messy.  They’re whispering about it right now.”

Chiaki had died so recently, it still didn’t feel real.  She had hung on to pieces of her life without really meaning to, so…  Of course Hinata was doing his best to gather her back up.  Chiaki had been his best friend since they were learning to count, after all.  They had played a few of the games in her old canvas bag together, but not all of them by a long shot.  It was better Chiaki speak through these clunky things — through her old hair ribbons and photographs and commemorative game art books — than disappear completely, if you asked Hinata.  The museum people hadn’t been willing to give him the bag during the day, so this was what had to happen next, right?

He’d tried this the easy way.  At least he had to give himself that. Hinata shifted Chiaki’s bag a little way out of the cursed guy’s view. If anything, the stranger looked softly amused by his efforts. He shook his head.

“I’m not interested in your prizes,” he told Hinata, voice swaying and almost, almost prim.  A former rich-kid’s voice.  “I’m sure you have your reasons for everything, just like I do.  Right?”  After a few moments of awkward, waiting silence, the guy drifted over to the far wall of that tiny office — maybe it was Hinata’s imagination, but it looked like he was feeling through the stacked book piles there with his eyes gently closed.  Trustingly closed.  Eventually, the stranger pulled back, holding a notebook full of dark green pen scribbles that seemed to squirm over the pages.  His rattling laugh was low and muffled in his chest — still a little too loud for Hinata’s comfort though.   Obviously.

“The beginnings of a translation…!” the dizzy-eyed boy murmured. He had to know Hinata had no idea what he was talking about, didn’t he?   “What are the odds, what are the —”

“Could you shut the hell up?  Seriously?” Hinata said.  “Don’t you hear Officer Nidai’s buddies down the hall?”

“Oh, yes,” said the stranger, turning to Hinata with wide eyes and a shaky smile.  “But they won’t hear me unless they’re supposed to.  I’m sorry — you don’t know that…”

“No, I don’t,” Hinata confirmed.

The stranger considered this.  He said, “It was good of you to tell me to run back there.  You’re probably a kind person, aren’t you, Mr. Pointy-Hair?”

“Hinata,” said Hinata, before immediately kicking himself. You’re really, really not supposed to tell people your actual name if you’re trying to rob a place!  …  Even if they’re trying to rob the same damn place, apparently?  Or at least they’re getting weirdly excited about the chance to snoop through somebody’s spooky notebook?

“His name is Komaeda,” Chiaki offered from the bag at Hinata’s side. “Nagito Komaeda. If he gives you a different name…”

But Nagito Komaeda didn’t throw around any fake names at all.  He grinned, amazed and warm and slightly mocking, like he couldn’t believe Hinata had actually handed him his name so earnestly.  He stepped over to sit in front of Hinata, moving gingerly, sitting cross-legged on the ground.  He said, “You’re new at this, aren’t you?”

“I’m not exactly making a career out of sneaking into museums, no,” Hinata said, glaring.  “I’m not some comic book supervillain, or anything like that.”

The dizzy-eyed stranger chewed on his lip, thoughtful.  Hinata wasn’t entirely sure he got the joke.  He said, “In that case…  Please, call me Komaeda.  It’s the least I can do.”  His voice was so wandering, hazy and formal both at once.  The notebook disappeared into a pocket inside his long, tattered coat; up close, Hinata realized this stranger — Komaeda — smelled like burning.  His skin was a crisscross of faded scars.

The office/closet doorknob rattled furiously, about then.  Somebody grunted, “Keys’s not working…!” and then, louder, “Wait — damn key snapped off in my hand!”  They stalked away, and Komaeda nodded, again. Serene as anything, as if stuff like this happened to him every day.

“They‘ll come back,” he said.  “Officer Nidai is a persistent one.”   He might’ve looked self-conscious for a second — realizing he sounded like a hardened crook, or something — because he added, “Or so I’ve heard.  But we have a little while yet, I think.  Are those games in your bag any good?”

“These are my friend’s —” Hinata protested…  But Chiaki shushed him.  Gently.

She said, “They’re your games, now, really,” and “This isn’t my body, Hajime.  Only a window…  You know that.  I can look away, sometimes.  I’ll look away for a little while now, if you want.”

Everyone Nagito Komaeda loved died messily, Chiaki had said.  She didn’t say it again now, but Hinata thought maybe she was reconsidering this dizzy-eyed stranger.  At the very least, he might know how to hurry out of a museum in the middle of the night without getting caught.  He might know what it was like to lose a friend, too, and to want to believe that couldn’t be true with all his heart.  Hinata might get something out of talking to a person like him.

“Be careful,” said Chiaki.  “And be nice, okay?  Unless he turns out to be a jerk.  A cursed jerk.”  Hinata could’ve sworn she was snickering.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Komaeda’s already giving you ‘I-like-you’ eyes.”

“He is not,” grumbled Hinata.

Komaeda tactfully ignored that last bit.  He said, “Ooh, your friend has ‘Void Escape 2.’ I like that one.”  Komaeda glanced at the door, and then back to Hinata.  “I’ve…  Never played two-player mode, actually.   We could kill a little time?”

This was absurd. This was a million-to-one chance meeting.  This was…

This was Hinata hiding in some musty middle-of-the-night museum office, offering a cursed, supervillain-y stranger snacks from his bag. Trying out a video game together.  What the hell?!

Hinata should’ve known better. On so many levels, he should have known.  But, apparently…  No.

When Officer Nidai finally got that particular office door open, Hinata and Komaeda huddled together under the tiny desk, close enough that the smell of burning felt everywhere for a little while.  Close enough that Komaeda’s wavy singed hair brushed Hinata’s cheek. They’d draped Komaeda’s coat over the both of them in some sort of effort to look like just another lumpy pile.  Maybe books, or crinkled papers, or whatever it was museum researchers wore out in the field.

The notebook Komaeda had been trying to smuggle away felt cold against Hinata’s skin, twitching like a living thing.

Officer Nidai didn’t find them.  Somehow.  Honestly, they made such a terrible pile of paper/field clothes/random crap that Hinata was fairly surprised.  Komaeda, though…  Komaeda shrugged it off and said, “Alright, then.  That’s our cue: time to go!”

They snuck out the museum’s dusky hallways together, then, with Komaeda holding Hinata’s sleeve and guiding him down what he claimed was “the luckiest” path to the parking lot.  The sky was huge and hollow-looking up above them, when they finally made it. Hinata had parked his car at the grocery store down the road — he gave Komaeda a ride back into the city, even though Komaeda’d assured him he would have found his way no matter what.

Just before dropping Komaeda off down some lonely backstreet — one of those tipped-over-garbage-can-alleys, without a proper street name anywhere — Hinata asked something he knew would haunt him whether he managed to choke it out or not.  He asked for Komaeda’s phone number, whatever his curses.  Whatever a weird night this had been.  He tried to ask casually, the way Chiaki might have.  Like he only wanted to be friends. Like he was just a little worried about him, even though…  Huh.

Something had felt right and warm, so familiar, about Komaeda’s hand on Hinata’s sleeve.  About Komaeda’s spinning, smothered laughter.  Whoever he was, whatever he’d done.  Whatever exactly had been translated in that notebook waiting tucked against his heart, just then.

Komaeda shook his head no, and Hinata muttered something embarrassed.  Said to forget he asked; glowered at the road.  Komaeda watched him, apparently baffled.  He folded his arms around himself, leaning the back of his head against Hinata’s car door window.  He would leave dark ash smeared on the glass, when he left.

“I…  Have no idea why you’d want to call someone like me,” Komaeda offered, after a moment of tension, the dark city passing by all around them.  After he’d apparently hunted around his mind for the right words and come back feeling empty-handed.  “I don’t even have a phone.  Never keep any number for long…”  He cleared his throat.  “If you want, though, you can give me your number. I’ll check in with you, until it gets…”  An awkward laugh, here.  “Until you tell me to stop, I guess.”

Maybe that should’ve been enough to scare Hinata off, but he scribbled his number down on a scrap of paper torn out of that cryptic, slithering-ink notebook Komaeda’d stolen anyway.  He couldn’t believe he was doing it, even as his pen slipped and Komaeda clarified, “Is that an eight or a four, Hinata?” in a soft, wondering voice.

Hinata told him, and Komaeda murmured the full number back, very solemn.  Like a promise.

Hinata took a long, roundabout way home, that night, and Komaeda waved after him until he’d disappeared off to kinder streets.  He turned around on the worn-slick heel of his shoe and started humming again, the way he had back in the museum.  It was a hopeful song, maybe.  It was almost morning.

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Chapters: 1/6 Fandom: ヒプノシスマイク | Hypnosis Mic (Albums) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aohitsugi Samatoki/Yamada Ichiro, slight Busujima Mason Rio/Yamada Saburo Characters: Yamada Jiro (Hypnosis Mic), Yamada Ichiro, Yamada Saburo, Aohitsugi Samatoki, Aohitsugi Nemu, Jinguji Jakurai, Izanami Hifumi, Kannonzaka Doppo, Mentioned Doppo's brother, Iruma Jyuto Additional Tags: Yamada Ichiro-centric, Probably ooc, Definitely OOC, Cringe, Cheesy, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Self-Indulgent, Very brotherly Ichiro, Not the canon Ichiro that neglect his brothers at first, No Mic, Alternate Universe - No Powers, No literally crushing each other with fire raps please, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, The Author Regrets Nothing, Red String of Fate, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Not Canon Compliant, Dress Up, You'll know why I put that tag, I love Jyuto's red gloves, Graphic Wounds Series: Part 2 of Hypmic Red Strings of Fate : The Yamada's Summary:

Side story of 'All I Ever Wanted'. Can be read separately. I think.

A story covering the background of Ichiro and Samatoki's relationship. They're soulmates, but in front of his brothers, the pair always fight until they draw blood. They're supposed to be perfect together, but they never meet again when after that one fight.

A story takes Ichiro's perspective of the relationship, things that his brothers will ever know. It's been five years since the fight, and they never meet after that. Things he didn't want to remember came in dreams, like punishment for leaving his soulmate and sleeping with another. Dreams about the days before shit happens, before they have to separate, before all the disagreement, before they are forced to choose between each other or their family. In reality, Samatoki is not here anymore, so Ichiro tried to get by, no matter how he regrets how he left his soulmate.

----

The soulmate universe is inspired by “You would make a good soldier.” by 6fortius9, check it out!

Click Keep reading to read it on tumblr

Ichiro is used to a full house filled with noise. The only calm he had back then is when he woke up first thing in the morning to get ready ahead of time and prepare breakfast for his brothers. Sometimes for his aunt too when she has the day shift, and sometimes his uncle when he’s home from a long business trip. Even though his aunt and uncle didn’t join the table sometimes, it’s still full of life with Jiro and Saburo are bickering.

Sometimes it’s about a missing jacket they accused each other of stealing when it’s actually in the laundry, fighting over the warm shower, or any other thing they manage to disagree on.

Most of the reason they fight are petty things that get too far. Like games, and they support an opposite team in sports. Then he will come up from mid cooking with a spatula in hand and threaten them with no food if they don’t make up. Or if Ichiro wasn’t cooking, he’ll grab anything in the room and threaten them with that.

It works most of the times, sometimes the fight is so bad that one of them leaves the room or not talk to each other, but they always manage to go around it. They all do. His aunt is grumpy without her coffee when she wakes up and often pass out by the entrance when she came home. His uncle will pass out on the table in the morning when there’s no breakfast, and when he’s home, he pass out in random rooms too. How did they survive before Ichiro and his brothers came along? He has no idea.

He misses Saburo who went to school in Hokkaido and moving in with Riou, his soulmate. He misses Jiro who’s on an internship abroad so he’ll be closer to his long-distance girlfriend. Ichiro also misses his quirky aunt and gentle uncle.

Ichiro is also grateful that his aunt and uncle came around when their father left. He loves his aunt and uncle, but he misses his dad. He was not a good dad, but Ichiro still misses his dad. He misses his loving and kind dad, the one before his mom died, but it seems like no one else did.

Whenever he feels lonely, he instinctively looks at the red line on his finger, then immediately cursed at himself for looking at it.

“You’re okay?” Ichiro felt his heart leap at the sudden interruption of his daydream.

In front of him is a screen playing a video of an action clip and sound waves at the bottom that he only gets to edit on the first half.

The owner of the deep voice is Jakurai, his purple hair is tied up in a messy bun. His sharp and elegant face seems like he didn’t get too much sleep. Ichiro shrinks under the project manager’s gaze, especially when he just spent a wasteful amount of time daydreaming.

“I’m fine sir, just need some coffee, it’s not done yet,” he says apologetically.

“I’m not here for that, the others are buying Ramen from Kyoko’s stand, you want one?”

At the name of old grandma Kyoko, all his sense rouse excitedly, especially imagining her rich ramen broth and the perfect chew of her noodles and the tender pork strips, oh and the must-have gyoza... the rich and tender filling... light, a little burnt, and crispy on the outside.

“Yes,” Ichiro moaned, a bit too sexually for food.

His project manager, who thankfully already used to his antics, just shook his head and smiled amusedly. He picks up his phone and types away.

“Be down in 20. And take a break Ichiro, you look horrible,” he said, looking horrible himself, and walks away from the room.

Ichiro only now just noticed that he’s alone in the sound editing room. Everyone else must’ve been out to have lunch.

He looks down to the clock on the bottom right of his screen, three pm already, everyone is either having a late lunch or Jakurai is letting them have a longer break, which is impossible. That guy will so far lock the doors to make them all finish according to the deadline. Even so, he’s a respectable leader, and lock himself up with the rest of them.

Ichiro likes it here in Tokyo, working in a film making industry. It’s not far from his aunt’s and uncle’s home, but they’re busy too. It’s been two years since he worked here, he could’ve gone back and forth from Tokyo and Ikebukuro, but it’s more convenient to stay close in a walking distance. As the consequences, he’s homesick often. He misses everyone. He can only put so much family photos on his desk.

There is a picture of him and his brothers with his aunt and uncle on the beach. Ichiro is the one completely buried in the sand, Jiro is in the middle of giving him sand boobs and looks like he’s groping him. Saburo is making his mermaid tail, his aunt is doing a slav squat and pressing her palm together beside him and his uncle is taking the selfie with all that mess. It was funny, and somehow even though Ichiro is the one with boobs, Jiro is the one most embarrassed about this picture.

Then there’s Jiro’s high school graduation with all of the family, and Saburo’s Middle school graduation minus his uncle that can’t leave his work in Egypt, but Riou was there.

Beside it, is a picture of the three of them plus Riou, when he and Jiro went to Hokkaido to visit Riou and Saburo. It was taken on a flower field. He forces Jiro to make a heart together with him and makes Saburo and Riou poses in the middle of the heart. They protested at the cheesiness of the picture but Ichiro knows for a fact that this picture is Riou’s phone home screen.

Behind all that framed photo, he spots one he rarely sees. A picture of him, Jiro, his dad, and his pregnant mom. After Saburo was born, his dad doesn’t want them to take a picture together. Ichiro misses his mom the most, and he still feels like he’ll tear up every time he remembers her. But then he remembers Saburo, that little genius, brave, strong and stubborn little kid that he loves, and Jiro, another stubborn, hot-headed and strong-willed kid.

Maybe she’s gone, but she gave him his precious brothers. For them, he thanks her. He promised her that he’ll take care of them, keeps them safe, and Ichiro will do everything necessary to do so.

He looks at his hand again, the red string on his finger is as stark as ever.

His heartache for a bit, remembering all these things. He picks up his phone and dialed Saburo without any hesitation. Saburo picks up on the second ring.

“Sup Ichi-nii?” he sounds chipper, and that’s honestly all Ichiro needs.

“Just checking in.”

“Uh-huh, you’re lonely aren’t you?”

Ichiro melts on the inside, “Hope I didn’t catch you on a bad time?”

“No, you didn’t. How are you even calling at this hour? Jakurai isn’t breathing down on your neck this time?”

“Strangely he’s not! I’m alone in the room now, everyone is getting lunch.”

“At this hour???”

“Yes, at this hour, c’ mon, my odd hour isn’t news.”

“No it’s not, but you know what’s news?”

“What?” Ichiro finally feels intrigued.

“This New Year holiday I’m coming home with Riou! He finally has New years off.”

“That’s great!” Ichiro exclaimed, grateful that no one is here or he would’ve made ten or so people deaf. “It’s been so long since I met him, you guys doing good?”

“Yeah! I visit his grandparents grave last weekend, and turns out there’s a romantic story behind it.”

“You went to a cemetery and it was romantic, it’s a bit too late for a goth phase, isn’t it?” Ichiro teased.

“Just listen to me first!”

“Alright alright, I’ll listen!” Ichiro chuckled.

“Okay, remember the dog tag that Riou always wears?”

Ichiro remembers, Saburo told him about it years ago. Riou always wears this dog tag, and Ichiro assumed it was his because the man is an ex-navy. Turns out, the dog tag was not Riou’s, it was his grandpa’s, who gave the dog tag to his wife. His wife, Riou’s grandma, already died when he met his grandpa, and then gave the dog tag to Riou so he’ll know that his grandpa loves him even though Riou only meets him for summer break in Hokkaido.

“He thinks he didn’t have a soulmate, until he’s 14 and I came along of course. But when he was a kid he was sad about it, so his grandpa gave him the dog tag. His grandpa told him it was a reminder that he’ll find someone for him even though he didn’t have a soulmate. Because you know, I told you already about Riou’s grandparents right?”

“That they’re not soulmates?”

“Right! His grandpa told him he can return the dog tag to his grandma when Riou finds someone he loves. When we came to their grave, guess what he did.”

Ichiro gasps, “He gave the dog tag back?”

“He gave the dog tag back! I swear that man will be the death of me!”Saburo then squealed, Ichiro chuckled at his little brother’s antics.

Riou’s grandma and grandpa were not soulmates, but they’re happily married for decades and his grandpa still had the red string on his finger until the day he died.

Ichiro already knows this story back when Saburo told him in tears. It was the first time Saburo met Riou, and Riou told him that his little brother doesn’t have to choose him if the age between them is too heavy to bear for Saburo. Even though all that Riou wanted is a soulmate.

In the end, Saburo chooses him. It was the common fairytale-like red string of fate story. Ichiro is glad that Saburo gets to have them. But the story gave hope to someone probably not to someone that Riou might have predicted. It gave hope to Ichiro.

“Ichi-nii?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you really okay?”

He wonders sometimes, but don’t we all? Sometimes we ask ourselves somewhere in life, if we’re okay, or if we’re happy, or if this is the life we want to be having, or if you’re making good choices.

And Ichiro just doesn’t know.

“Yeah! I’m just a bit swamped at work,” Ichiro isn’t totally lying about that.

“Are you sure?” Saburo didn’t sound convinced, of course he doesn’t.

This one particular brother of his is incredibly sharp that it’s scary. He can sniff your emotions no matter how good your lie is. Ichiro is never an exception. Ever since he was little, Saburo was always the first to notice when Ichiro is not his best.

Ichiro debates whether or not he should tell the truth, guess he’s just gonna go for it.

“I’m looking at our family pictures, and I don’t know.”

Saburo sighs at the other end, “Sometimes I worry about you Ichi-nii.”

“Hm? Really, why?”

“You gave up a lot of things for us, and you never let us do the same,” Saburo’s words stir him.

He bites his lips, deeply feeling the guilt that resurfaces.

“I really didn’t,” Ichiro says instead.

“You know Jiro and I are cool with it. You don’t have to protect us anymore.”

Ichiro bites his lips tighter, and it really breaks his heart more than it touched him.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up, we just want you to be happy.”

Ichiro smiled at that, he really does raise his brothers well. That’s all Ichiro needs.

“I am happy.”

+++++++++++

He drops by the 3D animation office before he’s off to walk back to his apartment. Some of the desks are already empty this late, but there is still a few that stays, including his roommate. A ducked redhead sticks out like a sore thumb in the middle of the room filled with rows of messy desks. Ichiro walks over to the man who had his eyes open and glued to the screen. So focused that he didn’t notice Ichiro is already in front of him.

“Doppo,” he tried to call gently, but the man jerks away like he’s been shocked by a thunder. He was doing a meticulous work on a woman’s face with Blender app. Yesterday it was only a blop of circle. Ichiro will never know how the heck 3D modeling works.

Doppo had bags on the bags under his eyes, it’s a hard case of bags-ception. It’s been there since Ichiro first meet him, and only had been gaining in color and weight since then. The mug on his desk is half empty and stained badly, the stain wasn't there yesterday.

“It’s 10 PM, are you going back today?” he asked.

Doppo groaned, rubbing his face on his palms roughly.

“I don’t think I ca-”

“Yes! He’s going back with you.” A blond shoots straight upwards from the bunch of desks. Hifumi, allegedly Doppo’s best friend and former roommate, came barging through the desk and chairs in loud clatters and pushes Doppo off his chair.

“No!” Doppo yelled, and get a lot of ‘shh’ noise from the rest of the people there.

“I can’t go back, I have to finish this by today or-”

“You can finish it tomorrow! You’ll sleep on your desk anyway, just go back!” they bicker in a hushed voice.

“I agree, Doppo,” Ichiro grabs Doppo’s jacket that hanged on his chair, “You need to take a warm bath and sleep on a soft surface,” he puts the jacket on Doppo’s shoulder and grabs him by the shoulder, the man in his arm sways as he walks. Yeah, he really should go home.

“I’ll leave him to you!” Hifumi waved, Ichiro gave him an understanding nod and they’re off.

Two years ago, Hifumi wouldn’t even let Ichiro touch him without sending a threatening passive-aggressive comment. He didn’t know when or why he finally stops but Ichiro is relieved a little. Hifumi always said that taking care of Doppo has always been his job ever since they’re kids. But it’s not like Ichiro wanted to replace Hifumi, but what else can he do? The guy is his roommate, he can’t just let the guy drop dead.

Also, kind of a hypocrite of Hifumi to disapprove him in that first days when the guy himself, that let him room with Doppo, moves out from his allegedly precious childhood friend with his soulmate. Though Ichiro can’t really blame Hifumi on that one.

Doppo is unsurprisingly a slob. Hifumi kind of hyped Ichiro up at how much of a slob Doppo is. Shockingly though, it was not as bad as his house. When you live with two busy and always tired adults, and two teenage little brothers in puberty, Doppo is not that bad.

Doppo barely talks to him at first too, but you’ll be surprised how much simple care and attention do to a person. Also, patience, because Doppo doesn’t always reply to you in stressful days. Sometimes he doesn’t want to talk at all for no reason, and it can be frustrating.

Even though right now they’re walking with Doppo’s hand around his shoulder, they’re in no way closer than just good friends. They gave each other respected privacy and doesn’t probe.

One thing that surprised him about Doppo, is that for all the two years he lived with him, not once did he asked about the red line in his pinkie.

Ichiro sits Doppo beside the kotatsu table and the man just plops his head on top of there.

“Don’t sleep yet, I’m preparing the hot bath, have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry.”Doppo dismissed with a low and tired voice.

“I’m making you eat, I’ll make a...” Ichiro walks over to the fridge and sees what’s left inside he can work on, “Curry it is.”

“I don’t want to eat,” Doppo says firmly this time.

“You will eat, or I won’t wake you up tomorrow.” And that was enough to make Doppo agree, not without showing his dissatisfaction though.

“Fine,” he grumbles.

“Good, I’ll prepare the bath.”

Their apartment is small but it’s enough. The open ‘kitchen’ that only consists of a fridge, a microwave that sits on top of the fridge and the electric stove, and they are pressed against the wall of the bathroom. There’s a small kitchen island that’s as wide as the length of the bathroom wall for cutting stuff and condiments.  The bathroom is also painfully small and the only discomfort they have. Just because the bathtub is too small and they can’t completely extend their legs.

The living area only consists of the kotatsu and a small flat-screen TV that they only use on weekends. They have a PS4 console though, through winning the office’s lottery, and they play whenever they can. They only have one bedroom, and they sleep on a futon. The closet is small, barely manage to contain all of Ichiro’s clothes. Can you blame him? He likes cool clothes, and thankfully, Doppo doesn’t have much in that department and allow him to have more closet space.

Some might say it’s awkward for two men to be in one bedroom at night, but Ichiro doesn’t agree with that, at least not with Doppo. When they have their needs, they have a quiet agreement that they need to take it to a love hotel or the place of their partner for the night. Or if they don’t feel like having anyone, take care of it in the bathroom, quietly.

He rarely ever sees Doppo goes out though, when he does, mostly because he sleeps over at the office, but then again, they don’t probe on that stuff.

Ichiro returns from the bathroom to Doppo blinking heavily.

“Don’t sleep yet, the bath is ready.”

Doppo hums, he strips then and there, being butt naked before he walks into the bathroom, leaving a trail of his clothes. He’s not usually like that though, only when sleep-deprived, even so, Ichiro is used to it.

While he’s in the bath, Ichiro makes simple vegetable curry with instant curry block for one plate. Doppo steps out of the bathroom when the curry is done. He’s awake enough to pick his clothes up from the floor and put it in a laundry bag.

Ichiro placed the hot curry with potatoes and carrots on the kotatsu, and Doppo sits there when he’s clearly still wet and only have a towel on his lower half.

“What about you?”

“I already ate lunch and dinner, unlike you, and change to your pajamas before eating,” Ichiro scolds.

“You can’t make me.”

“Are you willing to bet on that?” Ichiro crosses his arms, looking down at Doppo who looks completely exhausted. Ichiro gave up.

“Fine, don’t blame me if you got a cold tomorrow.”

“Please drag me if that happens.”

“Nah.”

“Ichiro!” Doppo groaned.

“No!”

Doppo frowned and reluctantly stood up and walk to the bed room. But then he stops, and he looks back, “Thank you for taking care of me today,” he said.

Ichiro smiled, “You’re welcome.” Then he steps into the bathroom.

Ichiro showers clean and quickly for the long-awaited warm bath. It feels like all the muscle in his body just expands and let loose by the warmth, except his knees that poke out on top of the water. Stupid small bath.

He relaxed for a while, letting his mind think of anything but work. He splashes his knees with the hot water and startled when he sees a lot of red on his arm.

A brand new gush of a scar on his forearm, he can see his bones, and rips of flesh starting from his wrist down to his elbow. Ichiro knows it’s not his because, despite the open and gushing flesh there, he didn’t feel any pain.

His heart pumps a bit harder at the sight. Then not long after, he sees the wound close from the bottom working up to the top. There are two little red dots on each side of the closed wound, he must be getting stitches.

This isn’t the first scare he gets over a scar of his soulmate. The most heartbreaking one was the one on his back when he was eighteen. A thin and long trail of red lines and splotches of red that form a picture of a samurai with a face on an Oni mask surrounded by sakura flowers and peonies.

The wound had healed and disappears without a scar from Ichiro’s back, but the ones on Samatoki’s will leave a scar that lasts forever. As long as he has that tattoo, none of them are safe together, for them and the people around them.

So, Ichiro did what he had to do.

He told that to himself, before his longing gets too deep and turn into regret.

[selfsaving]

a  LONG  bio  post  about  ryan  haywood

because  it’s  ABOUT  GODDAMN  TIME   !!

born  in  georgia.

parents  divorce  before  he’s  two.  he  doesn’t  remember  it.  he’s  raised  mostly  by  his  mother   &   grandma.  sees  his  dad  two  or  three  times  a  month.  less  after  he  gets  remarried.  goes  to  their  new  family  once  or  twice  for  christmas.

his  parents  are  ok.  pushy   /   a  little  snappy   /   anti - rebellion.

he’s  pretty  into  tech   &   science  as  a  kid  and  his  parents  push  him  towards  that.  but  he  LOVES  theatre  and  really  gets  into  it  in  his  teens.  grows  closer  to  his  friends  who  share  the  interest  and  starts  to  drift  from  his  parents  more.

in  his  teens  he  takes  a  more  backseat  role  in  his  friends’  teenage  REBELLION.  liquor   &   petty  theft   &   vandalism.  but  once  his  mother  gets  wind  of  it  and  tries  to  make  him  cut  ties ,  he’s  joining  in  a  lot  more.

he  argues  a  lot  at  home  and  his  mom  never  takes  him  seriously  any  more.  doesn’t  believe  him  when  he  gets  his  ocd  diagnosed  at  17  and  refuse  to  accept  he  wants  to  do  drama  in  college.

he  moves  out  at  18.  modelled  in  high  school ,  plus  a  couple  of  other  jobs ,  so  has  enough  money  to.  and  the  amount  of  nights  he  spends  locked  out  of  the  house ,  he  hardly  lives  there  anyway.  he  and  five  friends  squeeze  into  an  apartment ;  all  theatre  kids  with  shitty  parents.  it’s  a  lot  of  fun.

ryan’s  parents  give  him  quite  a  lot  of  money  for  college  in  the  end  because  they’re  so  DESPERATE  for  him  to  study ,  even  if  it  is  theatre.  so  at  20 ,  off  he  goes.  he’s  sorta  boring.  doesn’t  drink  much.  socialises  casually.  has  sex  with  a  few  girls  and  kisses  a  few  boys     (   but  doesn’t  accept  he’s  bi  until  a  few  years  later   ).     but  it’s  pretty  fun.

their  illegal  activity  has  got  gradually  worse  and  it  doesn’t  stop  at  college.  burning  cars   &   beating  up  creeps   //   but  it’s  still  just  for  kicks.  he  hasn’t  killed  anyone  yet  but  he  wouldn’t  be  that  surprised  if  some  of  his  friends  have.

after  graduation  it’s  back  into  a  house  full  of  theatre  kids.  except  this  time  they’re  carrying  knives  and  maybe  it’s  more  like  a  gang.

first  time  ryan  kills  he’s  25.  they  hold  up  a  grocery  store     (   because  they  finally  thought  about  making  some  MONEY  out  of  this  illegal  stuff   )     and  he’s  the  getaway  driver.  ten  minutes  into  the  escape  they’re  pulled  over  for  speeding.  two  officers  get  out  and ,  with  four  people  in  the  car  all  arguing ,  ryan  panics.  hits  the  gas  and  runs  them  both  down.  there’s  whooping   &  screaming   &   they  all  pile  out  to  run  away  on  foot.  ryan  pauses  to  take  the  gun  off  one  officer.  dead.  ryan  killed  him.  it  doesn’t  feel  so  bad.  he  tucks  the  gun  into  his  trousers  and  doesn’t  tell  anyone.

they  try  a  second  hold  up  and  it  goes  worse.  they  pull  knives  and  the  woman  behind  the  counter  pulls  a  gun.  fires  twice  before  ryan  shoots  her  in  the  head.  and  it  feels  considerably  WORSE  this  time.  they  get  out  with  shaky  laughter   /   $200  split  five  ways   /   and  one  with  a  bullet  wound  in  his  leg.

a  cop  knocks  on  their  door  two  days  later.  four  jump  down  the  fire  escape  and  the  fifth ,  with  a  bleeding  leg ,  is  arrested.  the  fourth  gets  so  angry  he  storms  out  of  their  motel  room  and  is  shot  dead  by  police  the  next  day.  three  left  cry  because  they’re  just  dumb ,  broke  actors  and  this  wasn’t  worth  it.  third  takes  ryan’s  gun  and  disappears.  second  hugs  goodbye  and  they  get  on  different  trains  to  different  cities  and ,  as  simply  as  that ,  ryan  is  left  alone.

he’s  scared  for  quite  a  while.  he’s  only  25  or  26 ,  after  all.  drifts  through  cities.  works  backstage  on  theatre  productions   /   gets  a  couple  of  dogs   /   pretends  he  might  be  ordinary.  sane.

but  it’s  easier  to  convince  other  people  than  himself  when  his  head  is  full  of  nightmares.  and  soon  the  nights  he  can’t  sleep  are  so  unbearable  he’s  going  out  with  a  knife  or  a  golf  club  or  his  own  two  hands  and  killing  people  again  and  again  and  again.  assholes ,  mostly.  creeps  and  dog  abusers  and ,  a  few  times ,  cops.  until  it  doesn’t  make  him  feel  sick  to  his  stomach  and  his  hands  stop  SHAKING  when  they’re  covered  in  blood.

he’s  not  sure  really  how  he  ends  up  where  he  does.  maybe  told  too  many  different  versions  that  the  real  one  gets  all  blurred  up.  here’s  a  link  to  a  longer  post  about  this.  but  he  ends  up  hired  by  this  big ,  rich  drug  lord.  a  body  guard  for  his  two  daughters   /   an  assassin   /   generally  violent.

he’s  treated  appallingly  and  it  fucks  him  up     (   again ,  see  the  linked  post   ).     he  leaves  when  one  daughter  attacks  him  with  a  pair  of  scissors.

at  31  he  moves  to  los  santos.  a  fresh  start   //   one  where  he  can  play  by  HIS  rules.  and  the  vagabond  comes  out  to  play.  a  character  partly  invented  in  his  daydreams   &   in  video  games ,  he  moves  into  REAL  LIFE  now  with  the  hope  that  if  half  of  him  is  crazy ,  then  the  ryan  half  can  stay  sane.

he’s  solo  for  a  while  but  even  after  6  months  or  so  his  UNUSUAL  murder  methods  gain  him  quite  a  reputation  in  the  city ,  and  in  the  criminal  world.  enough  that  a  crew  as  big  as  the  fakes  seem  to  be  interested.

within  a  year  he  wakes  up  in  a  basement  with  geoff   &   jack  standing  in  front  of  him  and  they  offer  him  a  deal.  to  JOIN  THEM.  ryan’s  not  very  enthusiastic ,  but  they  seem  to  respect  him  and  they  seem  pretty  cool.  and  soon  enough  it  goes  from  a  casual  alliance  to ,  well ,  getting  attached  pretty  fucking  quickly.

and  now ,  seven  years  later ,  he  can’t  imagine  what  his  life  was  like  before.

[usashirtstoday]

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[ardynoctweek-blog]

Ardynoct Week Master Post

Thank you to everyone who took time out of your busy schedules to make content for Ardynoct Week. It was so great seeing how everyone interpreted the prompts. And also, thank you to my co-mod @ivorydice​, who helped reblog entries while I was at work.

I’d like to encourage everyone to take a look through this list and try to leave a comment on as many fics as you can, or to reblog as many artworks as you can. We are a tiny community compared to some of the other ships, so let’s all support each other!  😊

Day 1: Mythology | Touch-Starved | Body Worship | Noct purges the daemons from Ardyn

FICS

The sea that we saw was a desert of snowfall - by ADyingFlower - Noct as Shiva and Ardyn as Ifrit. 

The Wings of Fate - by larkawolfgirl - Soul-bond/soul mark AU. Noct purges Ardyn of the daemons... via sex.

Magna Somnus - by jlavisant - In the end, Noct and Ardyn come to an understanding.

This Is the End - by invisibledeity and Verdin - Noctis purges the daemons from Ardyn…. via bloodletting

Sentire - by floatingbuildings - Post-game, Noct is back with the dawn and brings a daemon-free Ardyn with him.

Hurricane - by kimmimaru - Non-con blowjob, featuring broken!Noct.

a pocketful of sugar - Chapter 1 & 2 - by nickofhearts - Noct and Ardyn are betrothed… and also cursed to be in either wolf or crow form respectively during night and day so they can never be together (cw: for beastiality in chapter 2)

shut up and touch me - by lhugy_for_short - Ardyn pays Noct a visit inside the crystal (cw: dub-con)

advanced country - by banditess - Ardyn is a hunter and catches himself a black chocobo (selkie au, but Noct is a chocobo instead of a selkie).

ART

Black & white digital art of Noctis purging the daemons from Ardyn

Ardyn as Hades, Noctis as Persephone

A drawing of Ardyn stroking Noct’s face

Photo manip; Noct & Ardyn are destined to suffer

Noct & Ardyn holding hands as Noct purges him of the scourge 

Noct & Ardyn as Appolo and Hyacinth

Noct feels a little frisky after spending 10 years in a crystal (nsfw)

Black & white digital art of Noct holding Ardyn and providing him comfort

Ardyn’s touch + the scourge are addictive (nsfw, cw: dub-con)

Day 2: Kings | Protectiveness | Throne sex | Marriage AU

FICS

crumbling manor - by ADyingFlower - Noct is married off to Ardyn when he’s still a child, and Noct yearns for companionship in Ardyn’s lonely house in Nifleheim (nothing sexual or inappropriate happens between them in the fic)

Kings - by Kircheis - After everything, Noct gets a second chance. He thinks Ardyn deserves one too.

the two kings - by kimmimaru - Ardyn was raised to be a king. Noct proposes there’s room enough for two kings to rule Lucis.

pocketful of sugar - by nickofhearts - Chapter 3 - Noct wakes up in an alternate universe where he’s happily married to Ardyn. | Chapter 4 - Noct is a sex addict who cheats on his husband with Ardyn.

king of darkness, king of light - by lhugy_for_short - Ardyn forces Noct to marry him in exchange for his friends lives, then brainwashes Noct into forgetting about them altogether (cw: dubcon, mind alteration).

In the Beyond - by jeejaschocolate - Canon divergence for the scene where Noct gets pulled into the crystal. Ardyn won’t play the gods’ games anymore.

ART

Noct is forced to endure an unwanted kiss, to keep up appearances of a happy engagement

Ink drawing of two kings, bound by fate

Noct protects Ardyn from a whipping

Noct wearing an amazing half-tuxedo/half-dress for his wedding

Very cute slice-of-life scenes from a mutually-beneficial fake marriage au

Noct and Ardyn wake up and discovered that they got married (nsfw, partial nudity)

Lovely digital art showing the progression of comforting embraces between these two through the years

Ardyn photo-bombs Noct’s selfie

Day 3: Illusion | Enemies to Lovers | Age Difference | Ardyn’s voice is sexy and he knows it

FICS

your best sleep yet - by windycockslap -  Noctis is a rich kid/trust funder/college student, Ardyn makes sleep hypnosis videos.

To tame a fennec fox - by ADyingFlower - Little noct discovers a prisoner locked in the citadel, who turns out to be his ‘uncle.’

Untitled - by theplagueofstars - Noct is busy and not paying attention to Ardyn, so Ardyn does it best to get Noct’s attention.

Ardyn’s voice is sexy and he knows it - by Kircheis - Noct gets turned on by ardyn’s singing voice during karaoke

shatter - by kimmimaru - Ardyn torments noct with never-ending visions of finding his friends dead in zegnautus keep, until it breaks him.

Acting Strange - by lhugy_for_short - Ardyn wants to have sex with Noct, but Noct says never again. So Ardyn takes the forms of his best friends to try and trick him into a tryst, but Noct sees through him every time. (humorous)

a pocketful of sugar - chapter 5 - by nickofhearts - Noct starts fucking an older man…. who happens to be the Chancellor of Niflheim. Oops.

the devil’s children - by banditess - Ardyn is a hypnotist and hypnotizes noct into stripping on stage.

ART

Noct calls ardyn’s phone so ardyn can sooth him to sleep with his voice

Noct and Ardyn comparing the size of their hands

A bit of sexual tension during the final battle (sfw)

Ardyn arranges a meeting with the little chosen king when Noct is 5

‘I feel i’ve earned the right to call you Noct’

Day 4: Tease | Fuck or Die | Overstimulated sex | Alpha/Beta/Omega AU

FICS

Strange Company - by trashbinofdestiny - abo/warewolf au, Ardyn returns to the pack that cast him out over twenty years before, with the goal to replace Regis as pack leader. However, his plans change when he sees Regis' son.

Bury Me Tightly Now - by ADyingFlower - abo au, twincest, very dark.

Begging for more - by ardynizuniatrashlord - abo au, Noct goes into heat and Ardyn ‘helps’ him through it (cw: dub-con)

work for it - by lhugbereth - drabble + mood board, Noct makes Ardyn suck his dick (cw: non-con)

Owned - by kimmimaru -  abo au,Noct goes into heat in lestallum and ends up being claimed by Ardyn (cw: non-con)

Utile - by floatingbuildings - abo au, Ardyn helps Noct through his first heat.

a pocketful of sugar - chapter 6 - by nickofhearts - Noct turns the tables on Ardyn and chooses the “little death” option over accepting Ardyn’s “help” after being exposed to sex pollen.

ART

Ardyn teases kittyboy!Noct with a fish toy

Ardyn gettin a little handsy with Noct (and Noct loves it) 

Ardyn feeling noct up while threatening him with prompto’s gun (nsfw)

Day 5: Scars | Held hostage | Chained/In Chains |  Kneeling before the King

An Audience - by trashbinofdestiny - Noct is crowned king and earns himself an audience with the accursed daemon king of old. Lucky him.

the cost of doing business - by marmolita - model au, Where Ardyn blackmails Noct into sleeping with him because he’s holding Prompto’s career hostage (cw: dub-con)

a pocketful of sugar - by nickofhearts Chapter 8: Noct and Ardyn engage in some consensual rape/kidnapping roleplay that ends badly for Ardyn. Chapter 9: Ardyn corrupts a younger Noct and Noct becomes an evil overlord. 

dead poem’s still alive - by banditess - In an au where Lucian royalty is born with wings, Ardyn shows Noct the scars from where his were torn away.

world of ruin - by sweaterpawnoctis - Instead of being held captive by the crystal, ardyn keeps noct as his pet instead (cw: non-con, torture)

cradled in love - by eowynsmusings - (established relationship, happily ever after) Noct has never been repulsed by Ardyn’s scars.

Fallen - by kimmimaru - Some delicious throne sex where Ardyn goes down on his fallen king.

kneel before your king - by larkawolfgirl - Noct “punishes” Ardyn by making him give him a blowjob on the throne

the accursed’s one true fucktoy - by larkawolfgirl - Ardyn has The Chosen all to himself and he works diligently to train Noct to suit his needs. (cw: non-con)

ART

Scars

Noct chained to the throne 

Noct in chains, laying on the floor at Ardyn’s feet

Noct chained to the crystal above Ardyn’s throne

Noct, chained collarred and gagged

Older noct, chained by the neck and kneeling at Ardyn’s feet

Companion piece to Cradled In Love - Noct wants to prove to his husband that he doesn’t find his scars off-putting

“I warned you not to spill a drop” (nsfw: Noct licking come off Ardyn’s boots)

Day 6: Afterlife | Meeting in dreams | Blindfolded | Oracle!Noct & King!Ardyn AU

FICS

and i meet you here, in the land of dreams - by totentanz - Noctis is eight and dreaming when he meets Ardyn for the first time.

the path between the stars - by banditess - Noct makes a deal with a faerie king.

peace in the beyond - by lhugy_for_short - Though the past can never be altered, the 'beyond' offers both Noctis and Ardyn a chance to come to terms with the lives they've left behind.

a pocketful of sugar - chapters 9 & 10 - by nickofhearts - Noct can read tarot cards, and his predictions can come true. He casts a love spell on Ardyn, which prevents Ardyn from harming him. 

the time we spent together - by ADyingFlower - abo au, oracle!Noct & king!Ardyn - Crown Prince Ardyn Lucis Caelum meets Oracle Noctis Sanctus at a cerebration of their beloved patron goddess. It wasn’t love at first sight, or second, or even third. But it was a tale of beginnings all the same, a tale of love and lost in equal measure.

The Oracle of Ramuh - eowynsmusings - When Ardyn over-exerts himself while healing the afflicted, Noctis is there to heal him. But was their meeting just happenstance or is a higher power involved?

ART

Noct and Ardyn meet again in the afterlife

oracle!Noct and King!Ardyn

Day 7: Free Day | “Good Boy.”

FICS

Amor Finalis Litterae - by PoeticShadows - Ardyn sends a love letter to Noct

Homecoming - by kimmimaru - Ardyn makes Noct kill his friends

“Good Boy” - lhugy_for_short - Ardyn threatens Noct with Prompto’s gun on the train (cw: non-con)

Melit - floatingbuildings - Noct and Ardyn are on their honeymoon in galdin quay after a polotically arranged marriage, and it takes a little while for noct to warm up to him. Then he finds out marriage to a hot older guy has its advantages.

a pocketful of sugar - by nickofhearts chapter 13: role reversal  chapter 14: cat-whisperer Noct befriends catman!Ardyn  chapter 15: noct and catman!Ardyn fuck (cw: beastiality?) 

ART

daemon-final-form!Ardyn attacking Noct

Adorable pictures of catboy!Noct and catman!Ardyn

Pokemon AU

If I’ve missed your entry, or you have a late entry, please feel free to respond to this post with the link. 

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

[boycottphil]

Blue Neighbourhood (My Youth Is Yours) - Chapter 2

Summary: Dan and Phil come from two different worlds. Dan’s family is poor and fighting to survive each day, while Phil was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. They do have one thing in common that keeps them together for many years to come: they’ve both been neglected and left to fend for themselves.

In this alternative universe, Dan and Phil are going through the joys, pains and confusions of childhood and teenage years; in which they discover themselves, their families and the people around them.

Rating: Teen and up (for now)

Word count: 3159 Chapter: 03/?

Read on AO3!

<- Last chapter | Beginning | Next chapter ->

Chapter Two: Together

Dan’s home was small. It was an average-looking house with a beige exterior and hardly anything else to go for it. The front door looked as if it would fall off its hinges at any given moment. One of the windows on the top floor was obviously broken, with grey plastic covering it from the inside to keep out rain. The only thing on the whole property that was prettier than anything else was a large oak tree in the backyard that towered over the house, making it look tiny in comparison.

Even with its falling exterior and junk in both the front and the back of the house, Dan never thought that it wasn’t homey. He was used to the clutter and the mess, he was used to squeaky doors and windows, to wooden floors that threatened to cause splintered feet. He never thought that he had it worse than any other kid. He had all that he needed, even if he recognised that he sometimes wanted that new toy everyone had, or that new video game everyone was playing.

It was a Sunday, but even on a Sunday, the Howell house was empty. Dan’s mother worked two jobs, and working Sundays paid better than working any other day of the week. Dan’s father sometimes left for days at a time. Dan never knew where he went, why he left or when he would be coming back. When he wasn’t out of town, he was sitting in the living room, a husk of a man, looking blankly at the turned on TV with a can of beer in his hands.

His parents weren’t perfect. Dan was aware. He knew his mother struggled with juggling two jobs, two kids. Two kids who were nowhere near ready to go out into the world, and wouldn’t be for years to come.

But everything was good. Even if Dan was left home alone, left to cook himself a meal and clean up after everyone, as he was the only one with the time to do so, he thought that everything was good. His family wasn’t perfect. But it was a good family.

On Sunday, Dan had a whole plan. He woke up whenever he wanted, since his mum wasn’t around to drag him out of bed for school or other responsibilities. He had his favourite cereal for breakfast, and sometimes even some extra sweets if he found any. He then sat in front of the TV until at least 2 or 3 in the afternoon, cleaning between shows and during ads. When he got bored of television, he cooked his mother and little brother a meal, then set it aside for when they would come home.

It was 4 in the afternoon on that cloudy Sunday when Dan remembered that he promised his new friend that he would be coming around again. He picked up his backpack, noting that there was a small hole in the bottom of it that he should patch up later. Band-aids, some water and a snack were carefully packed into the backpack, this time a flashlight as well. Dan grabbed his house key to lock the house up before he hopped on his bike.

He had fun, the previous day. Phil was a good boy. He knew how to have fun, even if he was a bit strange at first. Even if his family was a bit strange.

Whose family wasn’t strange?

The brown-haired boy was in the “rich” part of town within half an hour, panting a bit as he hopped off his bike and looked up at the by now familiar house. Compared to his own, this pristine-looking house, built probably not too long ago, or renovated at least, looked like a proper mansion for royalty. Dan wondered if they had a huge foyer with a chandelier made out of beautiful crystals… Or perhaps an indoor pool, with a slide?

Like the previous day, Dan scanned all the windows, hoping that this time he would see a pair of blue eyes peeking from one of the white curtains. He gave it a minute, then walked between the houses and looked into the backyard.

Phil was sitting on the porch, Lion positioned so he sat on Phil’s lap. The boy was looking out toward the forest, his blue eyes reflecting the woods in a way that made them appear to almost be green. A deep green-blue. Dan didn’t make his presence known yet. He noticed that the boxes were gone and that a swing set was set up in the opposite corner, and most of the flowers that were previously in pots had been planted.

“Hello, Phil,” he greeted, keeping his voice rather meek. He was afraid that he would startle the other.

“Dan,” Phil smiled, getting up and taking Lion by the paw as he walked over to the fence. “Hey. How are you?” The ginger-haired boy asked, probably to be polite.

Dan couldn’t help but notice the suit he was wearing. His tie was a bit crooked, but its pretty azure colour caught Dan’s attention. “Are you going somewhere?” He asked, some disappointment evident in his voice.

“No, we just came back from church a while ago.” Phil looked over his shoulder. He was glad that his mother seemed to already be too busy with work to pay attention to where he was. “I was actually waiting for you.” He admitted, looking back at Dan.

“Oh,” Dan breathed out, then he, too, glance at the open door leading into the house. “Can you come play?” He asked, knowing that the previous day, the other boy was forced to cut the time they spent together short.

Phil shook his head, and it was all Dan needed to feel defeated. He was hoping they could continue their game. He had been up late the previous night, thinking of strategies to get some of Phil’s “treasure.” They were ninja pirates, after all, and they needed to protect their territory and steal what isn’t rightfully theirs. Dan had hoped that they could build some more stuff together, maybe even explore the other end of the woods.

“But-!” Phil started, as soon as he saw the disappointment wash over Dan’s face. “We can play here.” He said, biting his lips. He didn’t seem too sure if that was true.

“Really?”

“I-I can ask…” he added softly, then took a step back from the fence.

“Wait. What if I can’t stay?” Dan looked down at the ground again. He didn’t want to go home. He really didn’t.

Phil shrugged, then finally stepped back and turned to climb up onto the porch. He was gone for a few minutes, and Dan began to wonder if the other boy would even becoming back. He was just about to take his bike again and leave when Phil reemerged from within his home and smile at Dan brightly.

“You can stay to play!” Dan saw that Phil had changed out of the suit he was wearing and was now dressed in a tee with a cartoonish purple T-rex on it as well as some simple black sweats.

“Awesome.” Dan grinned back and put his bike away, then walked around to the gate, which Phil opened for him and let him into his backyard.

Dan saw Phil’s mother poke her head out briefly. He frowned when she saw who her son was going to play with, but she did not say a word.

The two boys spend hours playing. Phil brought out his toys, making Dan feel just a little bit envious. But that feeling wasn’t about to ruin anything for him. They each picked their own action figure and were soon “battling” against each other.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun would begin to set anytime soon. Phil’s mother came out of the house, watching for a few minutes before she spoke up.

“I think that’s enough for today.” She said coldly, and even as the smiles fell from both of the boys’ faces, she remained stone cold.

“But mum-” Phil began.

“No. I’m sorry, love. Your friend has to go.”

Dan put down the figure he had been playing with and stood up. He grabbed his backpack off the ground and dusted it off. It was still dirty, but that’s just how it was.

“That’s okay, Phil. I had fun.” Dan said and smiled down at his new friend. Phil soon stood up as well and nodded, though he was not happy at all. Dan thought he could guess what the reason behind the frowning was.

“I’ll see you... “ Phil didn’t finish  that sentence on purpose.

“Tomorrow?” The other boy perked up a bit as Dan suggested.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” He then leaned closer to Dan and whispered. “Mum and dad are gone until 4. We can go to the forest again.” He then pulled back and smiled brightly.

Dan briefly wondered how Phil could be both so full of sunshine and rain all at once.

“Okay, bye, Phil. Goodbye, Mrs….” He looked at Phil, as if asking for his surname.

“Lester.”

“Goodbye Mrs. Lester. Thank you for letting me stay.” He then walked out the gate, not looking at the woman as he grabbed his bike and slowly drove off.

Dan didn’t go home right away. He decided to drive around for a while. He had time. His mother and brother wouldn’t be home until very late, and he had nothing to do. Nothing good was on TV and he had no chores he wanted or had to do. He felt the weight of being alone. It felt as if someone had put rocks into his backpack and was forcing him to ride up a steep hill. He didn’t like the feeling.

With Phil around, it felt as if that weight didn’t ever exist.

He came across a park, not too far away from his home. He could see a group of boys, older than him by at least a couple of years, playing basketball.

The urge to run over and ask if he could play, too, was strong with Dan, but he merely sat down on one of the benches and took out the bottle of water and the snack he packed for himself. The sun was slowly beginning to dip under the horizon, casting long shadows on the ground, the light around the whole park turning a gentle orange. Dan wished he could have spent that time with a friend.

“Daniel, where have you been?” Dan heard his mother ask, no real concern in her voice. She knew that the 11 year old could take care of himself well enough. He was mature for his age.

“I was playing with Phil.” He answered simply, putting his backpack down on the ground and heading into the kitchen. His mother was sat down at the table, a lit cigarette held loosely between her pale fingers. Dan’s nose scrunched up at the familiar scent of tobacco. He was used to it by now, but after spending a day outside in the fresh air, he did not appreciate the foul scent.

“Phil?” He heard his mother ask, an eyebrow cocked in curiosity. Despite the bags under her eyes and the tired paleness of her skin, her chocolate brown eyes were still warm as she looked at her son.

“Yeah!” Dan said with enthusiasm, sitting down at the kitchen table and starting to animatedly describe Phil and all the fun he had had with the boy in the short time he had known him. From their games at the garbage dump to their rather quiet hours spent playing with Phil’s toys. Dan’s mum had a soft smile on her lips as she listened intently to her son.

“I’m happy that you found a friend like Phil, love.” He extinguished her cigarette and then put the food Dan had made for her and Adrian into the microwave. “Does he go to your school?”

“I don’t know. He moved in not too long ago.”

“So he’s new in town.”

“I guess so. They moved into a huge house.”

Dan’s mum hummed to let Dan know that she was listening.

“His mum doesn’t like me.”

She looked over at Dan, her smile falling. “Why do you think that?”

“She doesn’t like it that I play with Phil.” He thought back on the looks she was sending in Dan’s direction. The judging way she scrunched up her nose in what must be disgust whenever he touched anything that belong to Phil- or even Phil himself.

“...Some people are like that, honey. As long as Phil is nice to you, I don’t see a reason why it should matter whether his mum likes you or not.” Dan could only nod at that. He knew he shouldn’t care. But he saw how Phil reacted. How his head hung a bit lower every time he noticed his mum looking over at them.

“I guess. I’m gonna go read.” Dan pushed his chair away from the table. He hear his mum say a soft ‘okay, have fun’ before he closed the kitchen door and went to the bathroom. He took a shower and brushed his teeth before slipping into the room he shared with Adrian.

His brother was in the living room, judging by the sounds of some cartoon coming from said room. Dan sighed, climbing into his own bed and taking out a book to read. He could hardly concentrate. It was a strange day. But at least it felt like summer.

Dan kept meeting up with Phil every day. They would either go to the forest or explore the neighbourhood. They were inseparable. They spent every minute of every day together, as much as they could and were allowed to. Dan learnt that Phil’s parents weren’t home much, and even when they were, they were working. Usually, there was a nanny to take care of Phil. An older woman who had apparently been a family friend for a long time.

He also learnt that Phil has a brother who is three years older than him. Dan did ask why he had never seen Martyn. But Phil just shrugged and avoided the question for a few days, until he said that Martyn went to a boarding school, and was in America with some school friends on a summer-long trip.

Perhaps it was envy or maybe melancholy that he saw in Phil’s eyes. Whatever it was, it told him not to talk about Martyn too much.

Summer was slowly coming to an end. Dan had been so busy with just being around Phil that he didn’t even notice that in less than 3 weeks, they would be going right back to school. To hell, as Dan loved to call it.

“Phil?” They were sitting on a bench in a park near Phil’s home. Phil had sneaked out once again, because he always did that with Dan. Even if he got in trouble at least a few times when his mum noticed that his shoes were muddier than they were supposed to be.

“Yes?” The blue-eyed boy asked, turning his gaze away from some pigeon that had gathered around a woman who was feeding them some crumbs.

“What school do you go to?”

Phil thought for a moment. He had to remember the name. “St. Willow Secondary School.” He said after almost a full minute of thinking.

“That’s the same school I go to!” He wasn’t too keen to go to that school. Although it was a new school, as he is starting year 7, the change will be minimal. Teachers and a new building aside, not much changes. He’s going to be with the same kids. Their town isn’t exactly large. He’s happier this time around though.

Phil will be there, too.

“That’s great!” Phil chuckled, nudging Dan with his shoulder. They were sat rather closely together. It felt nice, comfortable. Just being in close proximity. They didn’t yet officially declare that they are best friends, but both of them knew it.

“I will finally have someone to spend lunch with!” Dan laughed, and Phil joined in after saying a small ‘me too’.

They fell into comfortable silence, both boys happy.

The first day of school was always difficult. Not only did it mean that he had to wear a uniform again, but it also meant that he had to get used to studying and listening and just waking up every morning. The only thing he was looking forward to was the fact that now he could be with Phil, every day. Maybe not as much as they were during summer, but he could at the very least look forward to something.

The beginning of a new school year meant something else, as well. It meant that Dan’s mum spent a lot of money on his uniform, his books, his supplies… And while she said that it was fine (she didn’t even have a choice, anyway), it was obvious that there was some stress around spending so much money all of a sudden. Dan couldn’t help but think a bit bitterly how Phil does not have such a problem.

After the welcoming ceremony, they were all told to find their classes and start the day. Dan had yet to see Phil, but he had gone through two classes already, both of which didn’t start on anything important yet. The usual get-to-know the teacher and students spiel was going on, and Dan already knew 99% of everyone in his classes. He was eager for lunch to come around so he could maybe, hopefully, find Phil.

Ten minutes into lunch break and Dan finally stumbled upon Phil. They shared stories of their days so far as they made their way to the canteen. Dan got his free lunch, and Phil had one packed from home. They sat down in a secluded corner, not wanting to be bothered by anyone at all. Dan used to hang out with some boys from his old school, but he didn’t find them. He knew that they were somewhere.

Lunch passed in what felt like seconds, and the two had to get up and continue their day. Dan was less than eager. He could only really see Phil during breaks and what’s about it. At the very least, he figured, he had the older boy’s schedule and they could meet up between classes, even if it was for only a minute or two to say hello.

Dan didn’t mind. He was okay with it. At least he had someone to be around. With Phil around, there would be no problems. With Phil around, even the bullies wouldn’t matter too much. Because at the end of the day, he didn’t have to go home and hope that the following day would be better.

He could go to his friend who would tell him that the following day would be better.

[fvckmax-thomas-blog]

Hey lovelies! Lo, resident cat disguised as a human who just happens to love theatre and video games, is back with another baby. This is my happy/sad boy Max who is a member of the Nancy Duvouge House. To find out more about this boy, peek under that cut!

My sexuality is good character development and plots, so hmu with any plots you may want with this goober!   

~Lo

○  Max was born in British Columbia, Canada to two high powered parents. His father is the CEO of Thomas Suits and his mother is a makeup artist. He is the oldest of four children. They moved to California when Max was 11.

○ Though he may pretend otherwise, he loves his little brothers. Ashton, Felix, Damian, and himself are the Quadrant of Chaos. While all were raised in that rich lifestyle, their mother really enforced them to be down to Earth. It may have worked too well. 

○ He is a diehard Canadian boy, though. He loves snow and snow sports, hockey, ketchup chips, and saying ‘eh’. He hates the lack of weather change in California. If anyone makes fun of Canada, you can be sure that Max will break down your door and beat you.

○ Literally the goofiest son of a bitch in the world. He’s just a jokester.

○ Hates being called by his full name. The only people who call him Maxwell are teachers, his parents, and His brothers when they want to screw with him. Otherwise, unless he gives carte blanche, he will only answer to Max.

○ Max got into theatre and music at an early age. Due to the energy he exhibited at a very young age and his gravitation towards music, his mother put him into a youth theatre program much to his father’s dismay. However, he soon fell in love with theatre and could not be separated from the stage. Max hopes to be on Broadway one day.

○ His mother, Bridgette , is a UOA alum and pushed Max to join a fraternity hoping it’d help him become more social with people besides theatre kids. It did, but it may have backfired. If you want to get fucked up and turn up, you can count on Max to be right beside you.

○ This boy used to be kind of a little shit. In high school, due to his talent with music and theatre, he became somewhat of a little superstar. He had girls throwing themselves on him and he just shrugged and took advantage of all the girls who did. Max was a serial lothario. However, when he turned eighteen, he met this girl. This girl captured his heart and made him look at his life, showing him to clean up and stop all the drugs, drinking, and partying. These two were together for a few years and Max’s life seemed to be turning around. Then, when the girl ended up pregnant, Max had all the more reason to clean up his act. Though he was young, he was prepared to step up and become a father. These thoughts wouldn’t last long. His girlfriend suffered a miscarriage about four weeks in. This devastated Max. Their relationship was the next thing to be lost. Now Max is alone again, falling back into the drugs and drinking. He’s becoming that lil’ shit again.

More is sure to come as I think of it, but this is the gist. Now for some:

Wanted Connections

the best friends ;; his partner in crime, the ying to his yang. the pair or more that are typically attached by the hip, consult each other, and couldn’t live without one another.

the bromance ;; ‘bros before hoes’ is their motto. if they were both gay, they would probably have been married three years ago. they might as well be attached by a bro hug.

the worrier ;; this person is watching Max kill himself and can’t stand by anymore. they are actively trying to get him on the road of recovery. he may push them away but he really is flattered they care so much.

the partier ;; the sound of too loud music and the taste of warm, cheap beer are the defining characteristics of this friendship. these two may give each other recognition in the halls, but as soon as the word ‘party’ is involved, these two are together. the best of friendships always start smashed.

the one? ;; these two flirt so much, they might as well just get it over with and date. however, many steps have to be taken to get there. are they willing to make those steps?

that girl ;; the one he cleaned up for. the one who captured his heart. And the one he lost after they lost their child.

drunken love ;; college is the playing ground of drunken hookups and these two are no different. every party or even just a friday night, these two tends to find each other. could this develop into more? there’s no room for questions like that when your lips are locked together.

HMU! ~Lo

[noctis-hq]

congratulations RAE! you’ve been selected for the role of Casper Henke, also known as the snake charmer. please look over the checklist here. you have 48 hours to send your account to the main. welcome to the family!

man, oh man. this was a really hard choice. both apps for this skeleton were out-freaking-standing. i think what did it for me was the little things. you gave so much life to his ability and small details to his backstory that were gems just peppered in. i mean i also wish i was worth 13.7mil. i think there’s a lot you’ve got set for his character and he’s ready to build up. i’m excited to see him slither his way onto the dash.

&&. THE AUDIENCE

alias. Rae – She/Her

age & timezone. 27/CST

activity. 6-7/10; I have a full time job, so I do replies every other day or every three days, usually. I’m mostly active on weekends.

&&. THE ACT

skeleton. The Snake Charmer

reasoning. Okay. So, first I was drawn to them because of the charmspeak ability. A few years ago, I played a charmspeaker in a Marvel rp with a Jay Baruchel faceclaim, and he was one of my favorites. I think it’s such a cool ability, and I know how to weave around godmodding since this ability controls others.

Second, who doesn’t mind a little chaos in the chaos? I like to think the snake charmer is the king cobra amongst his snakes. A bit of venom and bite, and just a bit of slyness to compliment it. I like to think the snake charmer loves being paid in secrets more than money, and he has just enough of it to stir the pot.

name. Caspar Henke

faceclaim. Bill Skarsgard

age & birthday. 26/November 23 (Sagittarius)

gender. Cismale – He/Him – Heterosexual

key traits.

+ charming : They don’t call it charmspeak for nothing. Despite a low-class upbringing, there is a bit of poshness in his mannerisms, from the way he seems to glide when he walks, the velvet softness of his voice, and how somehow, his clothes never seem to wrinkle. He’s dangerous in his pleasantries. You never know if he is honestly interested or if he is prying for something that might be useful for him later. He knows how to play to (and with) his audience.

- egocentric : Caspar might not be the star of the show, but he sure as hell acts like it. He never learned the value of “no”. It’s his fault, honestly. He used a crutch for most of his life, and he doesn’t believe that getting his high horse kicked in the shins once in a whole builds character. Fuck that.  

ability. Charmspeak (below; tw: blood)

+ how he uses it: First, he must hold their gaze; once he gets a lock on, it’s nearly impossible for his victim to look away. He needs to speak clearly and precisely. One wrong word can cause a whole other outcome.

+ pros: Charmspeakers can hypnotize others to do almost anything the speaker orders. This could be as simple as making the victim walk away or steal a car. Animals are easier to control than humans.

+ cons: The charmspeaker is most vulnerable when he is giving an order. He cannot look away until the order is completed. If so, the victim will not follow the order. Also, the victim can be saved by someone blocking their view from the charmspeaker (i.e. a friend places a barrier, such as a book, in front of the victim’s face).

+ cons continued: The smarter the victim, the harder it is for the charmspeaker’s ability to work, as the victim might question the order given. Charmspeaker abilities do not work on deeply rooted morals (such as telling someone to kill another person if the victim would never murder in the first place).

+ limitations: The charmspeaker doesn’t have a numeric limitation on how many times they can use the ability, but if they continue to use the ability, the charmspeaker’s tongue begins to bleed. If they push through that, the throat begins to swell. If they try to use the ability past that, it will cause death. The “limitation” resets itself every 24 hours, but it’s hard to determine when that 24 hours begins. This is not true if they made their tongue bleed or throat swell; they would need to heal before using the ability again. Healing powers does not work on those injuries, but it can create relief.

bio. (tw: slight child neglect mention)

Caspar was born fourth out of seven children. Why his parents pushed out half a baseball team was beyond him. Maybe children brought some sort of comfort in their miserable lives. Or maybe, just maybe, they were seduced by welfare. He couldn’t really blame them for the idea. A hundred dollars per kid, paid out weekly, was enticing, but unfortunately, none of the Henke kids saw a single cent of money. His parents lived a rock star lifestyle, well, that was until CPS was called in.

When he was eight, he was separated from his family and placed in the foster care system, being passed from family to family, each one finding an eerily same reason why they couldn’t keep him in his home. His first family (the Ramsey’s) noticed he had a strong bond with the cat, and the cat seemed to hang on his every word. Despite the oddity, the Ramsey’s believed there was nothing to worry about. That was until they noticed money, jewelry, and other things went missing. They set up a camera in their bedroom, and video caught the cat opening drawers and climbing in their closet, leaving and coming multiple times with different valuables. They found all the missing items under Caspar’s bed, and though there wasn’t evidence, considering the cat never did anything like that before, they found it strange. That cat became an outside cat then.

After a few months, the Ramseys adopted a puppy. Everything seemed to be going smoothly in their lives again (besides the potty accidents and chewed phone chargers), but once again, they started noticing things going missing. Expecting that one of the children was letting the cat in the house again, the Ramseys set up another camera, but this time, they caught the puppy walking in their room, stealing valuables, and placing it under Caspar’s bed.

They decided to confront him, and Caspar told him that the animals listened. He then showed his new parents his gift, charmspeaking the puppy into stealing money out of Mrs. Ramsey’s purse. The Ramseys viewed this as a threat, and without truly understanding, Caspar was placed back in foster care. Thus, the cycle of being moved from family to family begin, until finally, he landed with his last family at fourteen.

By then, he was already a petty criminal. For reasons he couldn’t understand, Caspar could get away with anything. He started off slowly: stealing clothes and candy. If he was caught, he could talk his way out of it. By age eighteen, he was pushing drugs, selling unmarked guns, stealing cars, and breaking and entering into homes. Even with surmountable evidence against him, he never was thrown in jail. He was soon referred to as “Kaa” on the streets, named after the snake from the Jungle Book that could hypnotize others.

But, even the best fall down sometimes. Other criminals viewed Caspar as a threat, and it didn’t take them long to rat him out. All the evidence that Caspar thought he weaseled out of was now brought into view: from recorded phone calls, videos of him committing crimes and laundering money, to hand written notes. No matter what Caspar tried to do, the evidence was enough to land him a sentence of fourteen years with a possibility of parole.

With nowhere to go and most of his money ripped from him from bribes to allow him to walk as a free man for three days to get his business in order, Caspar found himself walking along the streets trying to figure out what he could do to escape the sentence. Only a few hours before he was to report to the prison, he found himself jumping out of bed, dressing, and taking to the cold, empty streets. Maybe it was the nervousness or the oncoming depression, but his legs continue to move for him. A few miles into the walk, he found himself stopping in front of a building, and almost instantly, he knew he was supposed to be here. Whatever lied behind those doors would be the saving grace he was looking for.

extras.

+ very simple headcanons:

. Caspar is a phenomenal singer. Maybe it is connected with his ability, but when he sings, the birds stop to listen. Some sing back to him.

. Caspar’s net worth is 13.7mil.

. Caspar’s favorite food is coconut shrimp curry.

. Caspar shares the same height as Bill Skarsgard at 6’4.

. Caspar never finished high school; he dropped out in his junior year. He does not have a G.E.D., but despite this, he is quite intelligent.

. Caspar’s biggest fear is that someone would recognize him for his crimes and rat him out again.

+ aesthetics: wood smoke and coffee, cigarette smoke, leather jackets, bloody knuckles, fervent kisses, brandied cherries, three a.m. silence, a lone crow calling

+ moodboard: https://g0otrh.tumblr.com/post/180809304242/casper-henke-moodboard

+ three song lyrics that represent Caspar:

“And you could have it all My empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt”

- Hurt by Johnny Cash

“Forget your lust for the rich man’s gold All that you need is in your soul And you can do this, oh baby, if you try All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied”

- Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd

“My mother, she would look at me She said, son, you’ve got a long road ahead Son, some may roll and make you crazy But don’t forget these words I said

And don’t forget what your name is And know what the game is”

- House of the Rising Sun by The Animals