* TOLD YOU SO / !

fandomless original character. by lav <3.

[boypreachr]

# 𝑩 𝑶 𝒀 𝑷 𝑹 𝑬 𝑨 𝑪 𝑯 𝑹 * is private , very low activity , independent rp blog for an original psychic/cult-affiliated urban fantasy character inspired by pre-2000s jock tropes, dodged calls to action, & early 20s misery <3

driven by lav / mayday, found previously @plantknife & currently found on the following sideblogs @lethehoused & @festeredsecret

content warnings for: infidelity, blood, ghosts, fictional religions, get rich quick schemes, psychic visions of doom, being trapped in your hometown, blond men, birth control, deadbeat moms and mediocre biological fathers.

✰ ₀₀₁ main carrd. ✰ ₀₀₂ NPC carrd. ✰ ₀₀₃ pinterest. ✰ ₀₀₄ playlist.

[festeredsecret]

* YOU'RE NO KING. extremely private henry cheng from st!efvater's r.aven c.ycle series , affixed with pizzaz by lav . ( sideblog to boypreachr )

[lethehoused]

ꕀ     ⸺ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 — 𝐔𝐏 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 — 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖 — 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐓 ⸺ 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

IND. PRIV. WRITING SIDEBLOG FOR A SEMI-SUPERNATURAL ORIGINAL CHARACTER. THEMES OF love, longing, diaspora & dancing tables.

[transcxndxnt]

He freezes like a deer in headlights upon being spoken to. Not only can this man see him, but he's being remarkably casual about the whole thing. Tran knows he looks like shit- he looks like he's just been murdered. Best case scenario, he looks like he was on the other side of the attack, bloodstains still darkening his sweater.

It doesn't help that this man seems so sure of himself. Confident, charming. He'd have butterflies in his stomach if he still had a stomach. The question of where ‘David’ ended up, while suspicious, does nothing to dissuade him. ‘David’ could be bound and gagged in a closet somewhere, Ken robbing the place, and it wouldn't even be the strangest thing happening right now.

This is all so fucking ridiculous. When did his life end up like this?

When Tran speaks, it's clear that he's far from home. His accent is unmistakably New Orleans, with a hint of something picked up from his Vietnamese-as-a-first-language parents and neighbors.

“I'm, uh- No.” Not alright, doesn't need to sit, not a cop- does that cover all of it? “I mean… keep your chair. I'm just… passing through. I think.”

There's a beat of silence- he has to get his shit together, lighten the mood, stop acting so fucking weird.

“I don't think I'd cut it at the police academy.” He laughs nervously, like he's normal, like this is just a casual interaction and he's not somehow simultaneously dead and on the verge of a panic attack.

“But, uh… nice to meet you. I'm Tran.”

[boypreachr]

kenneth has always had an eye for reading people. the best way into beds, he's found, is watching reactions and cataloging responses. despicable ? perhaps, sure, whatever. it's a skill that can get him a job anywhere they don't look too closely at GEDs and english language tests. dane's been a lovely father, but a scholar he is not. he attempts to school his features into something comforting, tracking the man's eyes as he does anything but look directly at ken. shoulders shrugged up, chin ducked --- BASHFUL , NERVOUS . alright. he laughs, hoping it comes across as gentle, not mocking. ( so he had a phase of shoving kids into lockers. age eight, c'mon, he's grown out of it. ) " fuck pigs, for sure . and hey, don't make that face : dave was just the last guy who worked here, and we don't make enough for new badges. "

ken leans away from the counter, stretching out his neck and shrugging the soreness out of his shoulders, the ache of yesterday's lifts in his biceps. " i'm taking my break now, tran," he says, jogging toward him and swinging an arm around a fragile, birdlike neck shoulder. he gently urges hauls the boy back toward the shoebox break-room, letting him free in the vague direction of one of the vending machines. the tiny plastic table isn't clean, or appealing, but it's quieter here, even if he has to lean against the vending machine ( so maybe he dragged the break-room chair out. whatever. ) " don't look so spooked, man, the door's open. just figured it was too many lights and sounds for you, yeah? relax, tell me where you're from. "

[boypreachr]

wait beautiful #lore tidbit. the hoes in doce (sevile 26f; katie 17f; letta 19f) have all unionised against famed hinge terrorist kenneth shay </3 this is why he keeps moving states smh

[transcxndxnt]

@boypreachr

He doesn't know how long he's been wandering; it could've been days, it could've been years. It all feels like a dream. All he really knows, dizzy and delirious, is that he has to get out of the French Quarter. He has to get out of New Orleans. There's nothing left for him there. There was never anything good for him there.

He should've done this years ago. He'd been a late bloomer who ran out of time. He'd lived in the same house, in the same neighborhood, in the same city, in the same state since he was three years old, barely venturing out of the safe confines of his parents’ house, his parents’ café, and school.

When he finally made the leap, the club scene ate him alive before he ever really got his footing.

The first step out of the nest had been Lucas. He'd been stupid not to see the danger. It had been so clear that Tran wasn't used to drinking, to partying, that he really wasn't even old enough to be there. He'd been stupid not to see that Lucas wasn't interested despite his naivety- he was interested because of it.

He didn't stay naive for long- two years of a toxic on again off again relationship later, his dad kicked him out of the house and he reached a new low. He went from Lucas, to sleeping on the streets, to Jay.

A week later, he was dead.

Now, he's here, in a dream state, walking across the United States with no particular goal in mind.

But… there's a gas station up ahead. That's a sign. It has to be.

By the time he really feels aware of where he is, pulled out of his daze, he's already found his way to the gas station bathroom. He can feel the cold water he splashes on his face, despite being well aware of the puddle it's leaving on the bathroom floor. It's like he's torn between worlds, here and not here at the same time.

It rinses the tear streaked eyeliner from his cheeks, at least, though he knows it isn't permanent. He tried to clean himself up once already, back at Jay's house, when he first woke up like this. At some point since then, his appearance returned to the one he'd died with. There's still blood on his sweater. Not like it really matters. No one can see him, anyway.

He shoves his way out of the bathroom, letting the door slam behind him. He isn't sure what the next step should be- not until he notices the man behind the counter looking right at him.

[boypreachr]

" you know, i swear those are supposed to be locked. " kenneth can't help his smile, though, folding his elbows down against the messy counter — someone should clean that , too , but it's not like they can fire him. this shithole has about three people of working age , and most of them man the diners and swindle lost road-trippers with thirty-dollar club sandwiches ( a noble craft run by beautiful women who have all unionized against him circa three tuesdays ago ). " they just hire anyone these days, huh. you alright , man ? "

he eyes the dripping mess on the floor, doce's unbearably dry dirt putting up a strong fight — it streaks up the man's jeans, definitely not helping the state of them. the stranger's struggling against the fluorescents , the lighting hitting him the wrong way , like a pool at the end of a hot road. if it was nothing else , the slightest hints of party glitter forever melting into his hair would've given it away. the only entertainment in this town is jumping over barbed wire ; even the strippers cut their losses a long while back.

not the first ghost he's seen , not the last. ken always feels a lingering fondness for them : he knows what it's like to be trapped in a place as much as anyone else. just because it's cushy doesn't mean it's pleasant, his chronic sunburn and peeling tan will say that much. " we're not supposed to sit, but i don't have a boss, so you can borrow my chair if you want. i know the name tag says david, but i'm ken. or maybe i'm not. you a cop ? "

[iespoke]

hi hi hi i'm a queer brown person going through many many Events all the time. i'd like to make you stuff!

You can find my comm info here (with secrets!). I'm on 5ver too.

[boypreachr]

bzzz bzzz! gonna be real busy in the coming weeks but will be around @lethehoused & accepting plots for kenny . also might be trying out some sound design hobby work so if you have tips for that i'd love to hear em!

[boypreachr]

made some minor edits to rules!

[boypreachr]

time has made liars and cheats of us all.

HE ISN'T IN THE BUSINESS OF UNWARRANTED HOSTILITY.    ⋆˚࿔       the caveat being this :   people tend to assume he's bright-eyed toward everything ,  his smile easy as a handshake toward every foul stranger . THIS IS NOT TRUE .     ( statistical fallacy. )      most people ,  he finds ,  have nothing of harm to them.    a defensive murder or two may play on their conscience ,   not kenneth's.     a worst moment does not an identity make.    he's been  wise for his years  in that manner ;   wise enough and genial enough that doce doesn't pretend to fear him anymore .   THIS DOES NOT CHANGE THE TRUTH OF HIS NATURE .  he is his mother's son ;   he has his grandmother's SUSPICION .   the smell of blood clings like rot ,  a lingerance beyond olfactory receptors .   REVOLTING   in a manner he doesn't face often .   when faced with a mirror ,  a feral dog will always bite.      ❝    liars    and cheats    of    men    like    you,    man,    maybe.    ❞    he bares his teeth, veering a turbulent right into some form of customer service smile.    ❝    my    record's    clean    as    a    snake    in    a    drain.    if    you    don't    need    anything,    the    door's    to    your    right.    ❞

@devouredgod

[rosources]

—   ask meme   :   MABEL,   a podcast by becca de la rosa and mabel martin.   episodes 23 (bull in the maze) & 24 (coalescence).

i’ve been cultivating unkindness. i’ve been cultivating a lot of things — i’m a fertile field, it turns out — but unkindness is the most interesting.

it is unkind of me to try and play a trick on you.

i can hear everything, warped and distorted but broadcast somehow.

i can’t dig you out; i can’t reach my fingers deep enough inside my own brain, inside my own ribcage.

without you, divorced from even the idea of you, i have no substance, no form.

you are the antithesis that gives me definition.

another tragic love story, who needs that?

tragedy is the point.

do you think you have a monopoly on anger?

i’m not really anything like a person.

i love you and love you and love you, just as i am gone and gone and gone.

i can’t imagine a version of myself that would not love you.

i dream of you. sometimes in my dreams you are singing. sometimes you’re raging at me.

don’t leave me.

i killed someone. i killed someone.

i’ll set myself on fire to give you light.

i don’t want you to be lost. i don’t want you to be stuck. i just want you to be free, and joyous, and buoyant.

i woke up needing you, you artery ripped loose from me, all bloody and twining.

time rattles on its hinges.

i’ve come to barter.

do you think i’m as fickle as a human?

are those matches? what do you think you’re doing?

i do not have time for this. you can be angry at me later, you can scream and rage at me when you’re not in danger anymore.

am i the martyr or are you?

there are other ways to get me to shut up, you know.

i believe you. i always believe you.

you’re always so right. it must be such a burden.

i must hate you, is that it? that’s why i did all this, because i want you gone.

i am with you because i want to be. that’s all.

i will love you like a fire loves a forest.

time has made liars and cheats of us all.

i will make a bullet of my mouth. i will make a knife of my heart.

you think you are the monster at the end of this book?

[boypreachr]

imposing a forever-losing battle of nicotine withdrawal onto ken because i think we should all project onto our guys.

[boypreachr]

bzzz bzzz! gonna be real busy in the coming weeks but will be around @lethehoused & accepting plots for kenny . also might be trying out some sound design hobby work so if you have tips for that i'd love to hear em!

[boypreachr]

let ken lovingly beat the shit out of your muse he LOOOOVESSS platonic bdsm and also getting tossed around. and also put him in a zombie au he loves those too

[doityourselfbombs]

what if we broke the cycle of violence and got brunch together

[supreme-leader-stoat]

what if we continued the cycle of violence. and got brunch together.

[boypreachr]

✰ 𝐴𝑅𝐸 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐵𝐸𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑀𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 𝑅𝑂𝐴𝐷𝐾𝐼𝐿𝐿? 𝑆𝑇𝑈𝐵𝐵𝑂𝑅𝑁 𝐸𝑋-𝑊𝐼𝑉𝐸𝑆? 𝐷𝐸𝐶𝐸𝐴𝑆𝐸𝐷 𝐶𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑆𝑅𝑂𝑂𝑀 𝐻𝐴𝑀𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆? 𝐴𝑅𝐸 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑆𝐸 𝐶𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐸𝑆 𝐿𝑈𝑅𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑂𝑈𝑇𝑆𝐼𝐷𝐸 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝐵𝐸𝐷𝑅𝑂𝑂𝑀 𝑊𝐼𝑁𝐷𝑂𝑊 𝐴𝑇 𝑁𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ⏤ 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑾 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑬❟ 𝑰❜𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑬*!​ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝑇𝑌-𝐹𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑀𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐸𝐷 𝐶𝐴𝐿𝐿𝑆 𝐴𝑊𝐴𝑌 ! ✰

original fandomless medium/faux prophet dickwad character with a vast range of easily alterable fandom verses. read rules before interacting.

*𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑦. 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑥𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠. 𝑛𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠.

[boypreachr]

ken will be shifting to a PLOTTING-ONLY basis. please reach out if you'd like to remain mutuals !

+ you can find me at my WIP sideblogs @auto1ysis or @lethehoused atm!