#Detective Toy Ocs

[bluepoodle7]

#Uglydolls #UglydollsUglyvilleResidentCreator #Slingo #Bingo #DetectiveToyOcs #UglydollsOc #DollOc #CharacterCreator

I remember making a uglydolls character from the creator.

I want to draw both of them someday.

She is detective and Bingo is her male doll partner that helps solve crimes both big and small.

The website is gone because the license in expired on the site and I wonder if the Powerpuff Girls 2016 creator is still up?

[sweetest-hearts]

i like my beautiful little son sooo much

[emiett]

Buncha old OC sketches and dumb comics

[lordofthesillystraws]

sneak peek. naru shimoda youre my everything

[artsandstoriesandstuff]

…why do I have the sudden urge to make a robo sleuths Tang commercial with Rod?

[joon4eva]

just the tip? — kim namjoon.

genre: established relationship au.

summary: you and namjoon are left alone together for a little too long. or: in your childhood home, you learn just how much is really "just the tip" with namjoon.

word count. 3,994 words.

warnings. semi-public sex, namjoon doesn't need much convincing, oral sex (m. receiving) unprotected sex but reader is on birth control, creampie, namjoon takes oc's underwear.

note: happy early bday to our leader who keeps me sane and motivates me to keep living everyday. here is some horny fluff word vomit inspired by all the content we've been getting of namjoon looking delicious in his buzzcut lately. i couldn't resist. pics above are from @rkivsfe ♡

Namjoon seemed plucked straight from the pages of a classic romance, a perfect gentleman in every sense.

Throughout the day, your parents had been gracious hosts at their house, and Namjoon had gracefully navigated each conversation, his charismatic charm and impeccable manners in full display. 

Yet, it wasn't the refined qualities occupying your mind; rather, it was his freshly buzzed hair and the allure of his domesticated moments – like when he insisted on helping your mother – that made your heart race, feverish heat flooding your core at the thought of creating a home with him someday.

The both of you had never really properly broached the topic of children, especially since you were on birth control. While you had only been dating for two years, discussions of having children had stayed respectfully on the back burner; the decision to wait until marriage, or at least until life was less hectic, appeared sensible to both of you. 

For now, life as it was felt fulfilling.

But lately, as you watched Namjoon tenderly cradle a friend's baby or playfully chase nieces and nephews at family gatherings, you began to see the appeal of having a family with Namjoon. It was hard not to want it sometimes. 

It took every ounce of restraint not to lunge at him right there, an insatiable hunger bubbling within, barely contained. 

And when the rest of your family continued to mingle in the backyard, that was the moment you decided it was time to make your move. 

Namjoon's eyes narrowed perceptively, instantly detecting the undercurrent of mischief in your stride. 

Your smile, wide and radiant, was Oscar-worthy enough to mask your ulterior motives from everyone else; however, Namjoon could see right through your seemingly innocent offer of showing him a 'tour' of your childhood bedroom.

Determinedly, you grasped his arm firmly and practically dragged him up the staircase of your parents’ house and up to your old room located at the far end of the second-floor hallway.

—

To his credit, Namjoon nearly fell for your act. 

He attentively followed along while you animatedly led him around the room; pointing out the remnants of your teenage years evident in the faded posters of pop bands adorning the walls, a meticulously arranged collection of Studio Ghibli figurines that adorned shelves, and a colorful assortment of plush toys scattered about.

Golden sunlight pours through the window, playing on the sparkle in your eyes as your sundress embraces every curve. Beneath Namjoon’s clothes, a nagging ache intensifies, matched by the growing warmth and strain in his pants as he admires your radiance.

Slowly, time seemed to suspend itself, while the walls in your room appeared to close in on you both. Soon enough, you found yourselves standing face-to-face, completely absorbed by each other's presence.

“You okay?” you ask in a hushed tone.

Namjoon's eyes sparkle with mischief, his eyes shamelessly lingering on your figure. The corners of his mouth turn up in a cheeky grin.

"I know what you’re thinking." 

Brows knitting together, you blink in feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about," you murmur, eyes evading his as your arms cross protectively.

“Oh, of course. You were just so eager to show me your room,” he states matter-of-factly. 

Namjoon’s grin grows wider as he confidently strides closer, hands casually tucked in his pockets. “Nothing more to it, right baby?” 

What a fucking tease.

Warmth creeps up your cheeks as nervous laughter bubbles up, eyes avoiding his penetrating stare – Namjoon always had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book.

It was something that instantly made heat bloom between your thighs.  And when he was looking at you like that, it was impossible to hide anything from him. 

He tilts his head and studies you with an arched brow. “You have that look.”

“What look?”

“The bedroom eyes. I’ve seen it before.”

“I do not!” you manage to choke out, the words nearly vanishing from your throat.

Namjoon just chuckles, disarmingly smug. “Hm. If you say so.”

Within moments, you uncross your arms and navigate the remaining distance, your hands coming up to explore the contours of his body – fingertips slipping under his shirt, feeling the muscles tensing in his back before coming around and daintily migrating northward across his chest.

Namjoon leans down, claiming your lips with a fleeting kiss. "We probably shouldn't," he breathes out softly against your parted lips.

"Hmmm," you pout. "And why not?"

Not waiting for an answer, your lips continue their exploration – slowly moving from his lips, tracing the angles of his jaw, and dancing between gentle nibbles and fervent suction.

Beneath his shirt, your fingers tease his chest, leaving light scratches before brushing against his sensitive nipples.

It only took seconds before you could feel how hard and ready Namjoon was, as his skin burned hotter beneath your touch and his breaths grew shallow.

Trying to suppress a groan and maintain some level of composure, Namjoon bites down on his lip and whispers your name with an unsteady voice. 

"Your family is literally downstairs."

“They’re actually outside.”

Smiling mischievously, you return your attention to him by licking a slow stripe from his neck to the sensitive spot just below his ear – a place you’ve discovered he particularly enjoys being teased.

“I can’t promise I’ll want to stop at just kissing,” he warns with equal parts desperation and plea – a last attempt at cracking your resolve as his hands reflexively grip your waist in a manner both possessive and protective.

“And what?” you breathe out, each word soft and slow, a challenge in disguise. “Where would you want to stop?”

“I won’t.” 

Softening your gaze, you allow your lips to ghost over his. “Then don't hold back,” you whisper, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His heated gaze flickers across every inch of you – taking in your expression, the way your body presses against his. You couldn't resist further taunting him. 

Your hands slide down his chest and towards the belt loops of his jeans, giving them a playful tug before swiftly moving to unbutton them.

It’s at this moment that Namjoon seems to snap out of his haze.

His lust-addled stupor evaporates like lifting fog, replaced by a rush of clarity where the lines between right and wrong become difficult to blur.

Suddenly decisive, he intercepts your wandering hands with a firm but gentle hold. 

“____. No.”

“I’ll be quiet,” you promise him, a sultry smirk playing on your lips, both tempting and dangerous.

“Baby. We are not fucking in your parents’ house—especially in broad daylight.”

"Oh, Joonie…" you sigh lovingly, pressing a tender and lingering kiss to the small mole just below his lip.

"Always such a gentleman. Holding my hand, praising me in front of my parents, even charming my mom... You don’t wanna fool around with me here?" 

Namjoon's mouth opens as if to protest further, but any words that threaten to come out are swallowed up by a groan that he struggles to stifle at the sensation of you swiftly tugging down his jeans and boxers, just enough for you to wrap your warm, tight hand around his thick length.  

"You’re…s-seriously out of your mind. We…we really shouldn't," he manages to utter, each word strained by the effort he puts into maintaining control – his dark eyes burning with barely restrained desire.

You pause your movements and look into his eyes. "We can make it quick. I promise I'll be quiet."

But you knew Namjoon had always preferred taking things slow, savoring every moment, especially during sex with you. He was never really a fan of rushing, and you learned along the way he was big on foreplay. 

Yet seeing you present yourself before him like a priceless treasure, accompanied by batting those alluring, pleading eyes at him, Namjoon can't help but consider going against his instincts for once – if only for five fleeting minutes.

“I knew you didn’t want to bring me up here just to—Fuck, hold on. Wait,” he stammers, suddenly remembering, “I– I don’t have any condoms. Well, I didn’t bring any, for obvious reasons.”

An awkward silence settles between you two as the unspoken question lingers, and you gaze into his eyes, searching for an answer.

His eyes widen just a fraction when he realizes what you’re silently asking. 

“God, are you…—? No," he says firmly. "Absolutely not."

"But I've been on birth control for years!" you whine.

Namjoon closes his eyes briefly and exhales sharply, tension radiating from his clenched jaw.

“Babe,” he utters with a heavy sigh.

"Namjoon," your voice is barely audible as you breathe the plea into the curve of his neck, the warm air causing a shiver of desire to course through him. 

Your thumb glides across the tip of his cock, smearing the glistening pearl of pre-cum that gathers from the tip.

Your lips begin to trail gentle kisses along the length of his throat, all while teasingly drawing the tip of your fingers up and down his shaft.

Namjoon's breath catches in response to your touch, gasping as he involuntarily thrusts upwards to meet your hand.

“What about ‘just the tip’?” you whisper. “Isn’t that something that guys like to do?”

“Well… I-I’m paranoid and we should be careful,” he stammers out. “It only takes one time, you know. Can’t this wait until we get home?” 

Noticing his faltering resolve, your lip catches between your teeth to suppress a sly grin. Wordlessly, you slowly sink to your knees in front of him. 

He watches transfixed as your tongue traces a slow path up the engorged vein of his cock, pausing to swirl around the head before taking him fully into your warm mouth.

Namjoon emits a soft groan - hands delicately cradling your jaw - while your cheeks hollow and your head begins to bob rhythmically, dewy eyes peeking out from beneath your lashes to watch him.

His head falls back and his eyes squeeze shut, fighting to restrain a moan as desire shoots through him like wildfire, fuelling your own craving for him even more fervently. 

You could sense him teetering on the edge, his self-restraint waning with each moment until, in one deft motion, he withdraws from your mouth just enough to stagger back, hoisting you up by your arms and steering you backwards until the mattress edge halts against your knees and topples you onto it. 

“You’re fucking shameless, you know that?” he pants, scrambling to shove his pants further down and stepping between your legs, holding his hard cock and leaning over you.

Below him, you giggle and hurriedly push your dress up, sliding your panties down and kicking them aside.

Grabbing your wrists, he pulls them over your head and pins them there.

And as his body aligns with yours – his strong chest firm against your breasts, his crotch deliciously nestled between your thighs – every last drop of doubt vanishes from both of your minds. 

Under the sultry gaze of his darkened eyes, he grips your face, his large hands cupping your delicate cheeks, thumbs tenderly caressing the soft skin. 

Your mouths meet urgently; his lips hungrily pressing against yours to lick and tug at your bottom lip, expertly swallowing every stifled sound that begs release.

"Joon," you murmur tenderly against his parted lips, pausing between kisses. "Touch me, please."

Your honeyed pleas don't go unanswered; Namjoon's hands swiftly comply with your demand, gently pulling down the elastic neckline of your dress far enough to let your breasts spring free. 

"Such a tease, wearing this," Namjoon grunts, grabbing a fistful of your dress, "fuck."

His eyes darken at the sight before him: your dress invitingly pooled at your waist, thighs parted and slightly glistening from your arousal visible even to him. It was nearly impossible for him to deny you anything at all when you pleaded with that breathy, needy tone.

His lips move with purpose, trailing a series of warm, sweet kisses across your collarbone, down to the valley between your breasts – lingering just long enough to elicit a breathy gasp before grazing your stiff nipples with feather-light nips. 

You struggle to bite back any gasping moans – honoring the promise you hastily made earlier – with only the softest sighs escaping your pursed lips.

“Feels good?" Namjoon murmurs softly, his hand navigating the space between your bodies to trace delicate circles around your throbbing clit.

"God, you're soaking wet already and I've hardly touched you."

Desperately trying to maintain silence, you find your hips moving instinctually in rhythm with the sinfully slow motions of his long fingers. They gather your slickness, teasingly near your dripping entrance with one finger before returning upward to trace unhurried, deliberate circles on your clit again with two fingers. 

“Wanna come first?”

Your bottom lip captured between your teeth, you shake your head.

"Can we… Can you pull out?" breathlessly escapes from your lips.

He groans your name gently, punctuating his words with a delicate nip on your jawline. "What happened to 'just the tip'?"

"I changed my mind," you whine weakly, stifling a frustrated groan when his fingers stop their movements.

Namjoon's chuckle against your skin is light and teasing. "My greedy girl,” he coos affectionately against your lips before pressing a lingering kiss on the corner of your mouth. 

“Wonder what your parents would think if they knew that right now, their precious daughter was up here with me, legs spread wide and begging for me like this? Hmmm?" 

His dirty words make you choke on a barely suppressed moan, but you do nothing to discourage him.

He doesn't pull his fingers away from your aching core – instead, he bends down to lick them clean before gently pressing them back inside of you.

“Please, just please, can we…” your voice falters as it dissolves into unintelligible murmurs, desperate for relief, desperate for him to fill you up the way you want. 

"So needy," Namjoon chuckles softly at your struggle for coherence; swiftly replacing his fingers with the head of his cock. 

"You’re sure about this?" he whispers hoarsely, the feel of him nudging at your entrance sending already rioting butterflies into overdrive.

Your hands instinctively slide over the firm contours of his backside, urging him closer as your hips rock against his. “Wanna feel you. All of you,” you softly mewl in his ear.

A primal growl emerges from Namjoon’s throat before he nips lightly at the tender flesh of your neck. “So filthy.”

Namjoon finally pushes inside of you, inch by torturous inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside of you, slowly filling and stretching you in a way that makes your legs shudder and lock around his waist. 

His hips still, giving you time to get adjusted, or perhaps in an attempt to try to steady himself. 

He nuzzles into your neck, spreading his warm breath all over the soft skin there, nudging aside the fabric of your dress to press a kiss to your bare shoulder.

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck, fingers dancing across his freshly trimmed head, massaging and scratching softly at his scalp.

Your hips slightly roll to guide him deeper, enticing him to start moving. 

It's sheer, unadulterated bliss as he pumps into you, filling you up in perfect harmony with your own unsteady breaths.  

It feels even better than you thought – so warm and wet and snug around him, nothing has ever felt as good in your life. 

Out of all the things you and Namjoon have tried, this was something that you just haven’t done. 

And now you know you were ruined.

Ruined for using a condom ever again with this man. Your pulse is pounding so hard against your ears that it seems impossible to focus on anything else at this moment but him and how good it feels to have him bare inside of you. 

"You feel so fucking good, baby," Namjoon breathes hotly against the column of your throat. "So tight around me."

He’s fucking into you agonizingly slow and deep; his movements are deliberate and unhurried, each deep, slow stroke filling the air with your muffled moans and the wet sounds of your slick bodies every time his hips snap up against yours.

His hand entwines with yours, palm-to-palm above your head, while his other arm holds you closer by the thigh curled around his waist.

Enveloped in a sensuous fog where your senses blur and bend, you feel him gradually quicken his pace, each thrust growing more intense.

Namjoon nuzzles his face into your neck, soft moans vibrating against your skin. 

Teasingly, his pulsating shaft glides out completely – slow, torturously slow – pausing just before thrusting back in; filling you completely, his tip applying pressure to a hidden sweet cluster of nerves within you that ignites an uncontrollable tightening around him.

An unfamiliar sound escapes from your throat – a strange mixture of a whimper and his name – and he gasps before laughter takes over. His hand comes up to quickly muffle your sounds.

"Babe," he warns between giggles and gasps for air. "You promised you'd be quiet." 

“But—” your weak rebuttal trails off as warmth spreads across your face and tears gather at the corners of your eyes. “B-but it’s just so… F-feels… so…”

"Shhh, I know," he whispers tenderly against your mouth.

Namjoon’s hand trails from the curve of your thigh to weave through your hair, tightening at the back of your head and pulling you into another heated, sloppy kiss. 

“Doing so well for me,” Namjoon whispers between kisses. “Taking it all.” More kisses. Rougher and wetter. “S-so pretty… so fucking pretty wrapped around me like this.” 

With each impassioned stroke, you cling to him; muffled moans of his name escaping between breathless kisses as waves of warmth wash over you. 

"Want you to come... come inside, Joon, please," you softly plead.

Ardor begins to strain at every seam, your sweet plea threatening to shatter Namjoon's restraint, nearly sending him over the edge.

“Yeah? You close, baby?”

Your eyelids grow heavy, closing tightly as your head fervently bobs in agreement, words failing you.

To this, Namjoon plunges into you with a growl. His cock kisses your g-spot, again and again – and his face is a canvas of pure ecstasy as he thrusts forcefully, his hips colliding with yours while he drives himself even deeper, almost as if he was working to etch himself into your very being. 

Your teeth press into his shoulder to muffle your sobs, while your hands frantically wander— sliding under his shirt to rake at the damp skin of his back or bunching at the wrinkled sheets, desperately searching for something to ground you as he pounds into you, each powerful motion stealing more breath from your lungs. It’s a drawn-out, slow rolling orgasm that he drags out of you.

He fucks you through your climax; deep, steady thrusts that makes your legs quiver and your eyes lose focus as they roll back. 

A low, guttural moan suddenly escapes him as warmth begins to flood every nook and cranny within you, occupying and filling every gap.

The pulsating of the thick vein lining the underside of his cock throbs with each burst of his release, while your own walls tenderly constrict around him.

Your vision is consumed by whiteness as your eyes clench shut from the sheer force of shared euphoria, your mind wonderfully blank.

And then, stillness. 

He stays buried inside you, his large frame forming a protective shield around your body, like a giant blanket swaddling you both.

His nose gently nestles against the side of your neck, as the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest comes to match yours, slowly and peacefully. Your legs are still wrapped snugly around his waist, your hand tracing slow, lethargic circles on his back beneath his shirt.

“Holy shit,” you breathe in elation, “we should do that more often.”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. Carefully shifting his weight, he hovers above you, hands on either side of your shoulders. “That good?”

“Yeah,” you exhale with a grin. “Really good.” “Really good,” he echoes with a laughter that dances at the edges of his eyes and alights the depths of his dimples.

And you laugh, too, delightfully dizzy and slightly sticky with perspiration as the sun spills through the window's gaps, rays of golden syrup bathing you in warmth.

Namjoon presses a fleeting but tender kiss to your mouth and gently pulls out of you, leaving a lingering emptiness and a sweet ache in your core that lingers.

His eyes curiously wander down to the apex of your thighs and you watch as his hand wanders down to pry your legs apart, his fingertips holding them open as he watches the warm, viscous fluid of his cum slowly form a trail from your entrance. He traces a gentle finger through the slick aftermath, a satisfied hum resonating as your body shudders with blissful oversensitivity. 

In this proximity, he bends down to place a tender kiss on the side of your jaw, with words that now flow like honey. “Think we could make that a priority,” he murmurs.

He follows up with another feathery kiss directly upon your lips - an almost chastely innocent smile dancing across his features, almost sinfully ironic.

You find yourself grinning in response to his obvious overture before letting your hand wander lower on his back.

Slowly, deliberately, almost flirtatiously, it reaches and gropes his rear end. "So would you be open to round two then?" you tease playfully as your fingers pinch just enough for him to know you're serious.

Namjoon’s immediate reaction is priceless – a jolt forward accompanied by an adorably indignant yelp as he tries (and fails) to hide his surprise at your boldness. All he can do is shake his head at you in disbelief before giving in once more to laughter. 

Eventually regaining some composure, he chides you gently by flicking your forehead with one finger, mimicking chastisement but betraying nothing but affection. You feign complete agony with a comically exaggerated moan and grip to your forehead, earning another round of laughter from Namjoon.

“Jesus, baby,” he says, exhaling a heavy breath, forcing a laugh. “You’re going to kill me.”

He shifts to a seated position on the mattress next to you before standing up, his back straight and his movements curiously graceful for someone so tall.

Your gaze follows him, transfixed as he grasps the edges of his boxers and jeans, lifting them back over his lean hips. 

You have to internally curse at how his shirt clings to him like a second skin, accentuating his broad form as he calmly fastens each button, the muscles in his biceps rippling subtly in the process.

This simple act (an undoubtedly mundane and ordinary action) transforms into a hypnotizing display just by virtue of it being Namjoon. 

Shifting your position slightly, you slide the straps of your dress back into place, readjusting the elastic neckline to cover your chest.

Propped up on your elbows, your eyes dart around for your missing panties.

Namjoon seems to be almost telepathic in this moment, glancing over and catching your eye.

Realizing what you're searching for, a playful smirk forms on his lips.

He bends down to retrieve your underwear from its hiding spot on the floor and rather cheekily shoves it into his pocket instead of handing it to you.

Feigning irritation, you huff as he saunters victoriously across the room towards the bedroom door with his stolen trophy secured in his pocket. 

“Namjoon,” you protest, now sitting up completely. “I need those!”

"You can have them back later," he calls over his shoulder as he begins opening the door. 

The curve of his lips breaking into a gentle smile as he adds, "Let's go home. And don't worry, love - I'll keep these safe for you."

As if to emphasize his point, he gives the pocket safeguarding your panties a delicate pat - one last playful jest before disappearing beyond the doorway.

[makeyoumine69]

My Lovely Detective VI

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Detective!OC

— CO-WRITER: @iron-flavored-lipgloss

— CONTAINS: Dub-con smut, accidental voyeurism, fingering, choking, blow jobs, manhandling, degradation, dirty talk, pet names.

— WORDS: 2.4k

— A/N: Hello dear readers, here's a new chapter! We hope you enjoy it and please feel free to share your opinions with us! Big hugs

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

Loosing Myself

Nothing had ever stopped Patrick from getting exactly what he wanted; the little boy who had always owned every new shiny toy and whose pets had disappeared under mysterious circumstances had long since become a man who now bathed in the shallow pleasures of endless luxury, drugs, sex...

It was true that most women only slept with him for the power of money, a purely transactional affair, or in the hope of siphoning off his wealth and status. 'Although that's not to say that these sharp features and the size of my cock don't help in attracting these whores,' Bateman mused briefly, his hand running down his flat stomach and stroking his hardening length in self-indulgent fascination.

"No" doesn't exist in his world, because "yes" is usually just a matter of payment, and so he finds a certain satisfaction in taking what wasn't even part of the deal. Those materialistic sluts screaming underneath him, realizing that they made a miscalculation, that he will rip and rape their bodies, because nothing is worth anything to him anymore, and death is the real price of a night with him. No woman has ever come close enough (or lived long enough) to know the real Patrick Bateman. But Andrea, who he kidnapped and brutalized, and who was now begging him to fuck her...

'Is she losing it? Are there now two lunatics living on the 11th floor of the American Gardens building?'

"You're a stupid fucking bitch," Patrick groaned, confused and yet aroused by the desperation in her voice, her body writhing and shaking with what seemed to be a serious need for him. "I guess I already fucked your brain out, Detective," he muttered, emphasizing her profession with a certain mockery as his hand wandered between her legs. She was so wet that his fingers slid effortlessly into her this time and Patrick couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

"You really are a dirty, filthy whore to me," he realized as Andrea took one finger after another inside her, more than ready for him, but now of all times he was dragging things out. All this in spite of the fact that Patrick was aching for her at this very moment, rubbing his erection against the silk sheets to take the edge off. 

He was creating a special kind of torture for both of them with the way his thumb kept teasing her clit, his mouth instead attacking the sensitive area around her inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses on the plump flesh. Andrea's skin was so warm to his touch, a heat that radiated not only from her body but also from the look in her eyes as she met Patrick's gaze. 

"Not satisfied with my fingers, huh? Then I need you to be more specific. I need you to tell me exactly how you want me to fuck you."

No, that was not her, it was simply not possible. Andrea, she always knew, wouldn't act like a fucking whore in heat, but... but what if that Andrea was already gone? Lost in the chaos of pain, filth and depravity?

"Ah," the woman gasped as Bateman pulled her hips toward his groin, the leaking head of his cock slipping teasingly between her pussy lips, now so swollen they literally blossomed with arousal. "I want...I want to feel you deep inside me...all of you-aahhh!"

The moment Patrick began to thrust his hips against her rear, all of her insides were already on fire, it was like a fucking torture to be stuck in the middle between being so empty and so full. 

Whimpering, Andrea wanted to bite the blanket to stop herself from crying. Although her pathetic condition could be seen in the mirror on the other side of the bedroom. "Please, just, take me," the woman turned to face him, his prominent eyebrows knitted together as the man was so focused on the process before his hazel eyes; the sight of Andrea's moist, tight cunt enveloping his veiny dick with such eagerness. "Patrick, mmm-Patrick!"

Did she just moan his name? Did she? Or was that not her?

Trapped in her own internal conflict, the Detective fell limp on the sheets under the weight of Bateman's muscles, and that one move gave him the perfect opportunity to bury himself as deep as he could until his balls began to slap her curvy butt.

A low, almost animalistic grunt erupted from the man's chest as he thrust into her, then again and again. Each time was harder and more savage, Andrea had to push the fabric of the covers into her mouth, using it as a gag, her pussy struggling to take him all in, even though it was quite difficult.

"Mmhm," she murmured, almost screaming, while her hands raked around the bed, not knowing what to grab on to, but the next second Patrick fixated them in front of her face and lowered himself even closer to her, so that now his hot breath fanned around her neck, scorching her tender skin. "Big...so big, a-awww." Andrea convulsed several times as the man grabbed her hair with no mercy, forcing her to look up at him.

Those dark eyes, they were the eyes of the devil, nothing more, nothing less. 

It had been days since Detective Donald Kimball had last heard from his assistant, and considering her last assignment had been the interrogation of Patrick Bateman, it was obvious what must have happened.

Now Kimball had to admit it to himself—letting her go alone had been a miscalculation. He had simply assumed that Bateman would be more rational. 

Because even though the serial killer had taken the trouble to cover his tracks this time, Kimball knew where to look first. 

He had been skulking around the American Garden building for days, fully expecting not to be greeted with a single sign of life from Miss Moore. He was ready to expose Bateman for what seemed to have cost his colleague his life - until he saw Andrea Moore through the window. 

Very compromising, not well, but obviously alive. 

For some reason, Bateman must have taken a liking to her, because why else hadn't he killed the woman who was sitting next to him like a ticking time bomb?

Was this man just waiting for his luck to run out? Was he longing for Kimball's punishment?

Which he could have given to Bateman. 

He should have called for backup to storm the apartment immediately. 

But after 20 years of service, he was motivated by more than honor and a handshake. The government paycheck didn't reflect his excellent work, Kimball had decided.

Just as Kimball was about to leave this place, tired of wasting his time just looking at the motionless female body on Bateman's big bed, an owner of that luxury apartment appeared in the detective's vision. Patrick, naked in all his glory, moved slowly toward Andrea, who was still lying on the bed, probably unconscious. And only then did Kimball understand what all this could mean—Bateman had finally found his perfect little doll, or rather, a helpless slave.

For a moment, the man put down his binoculars, wondering if he really wanted to know what was about to happen. With a sigh, Kimball let curiosity take over, and now he was back to watching the couple, who were completely unaware of a sudden onlooker. But even if Bateman knew, he would probably enjoy it. Why had Kimball thought of this? Maybe because of the big camera that was right in front of the king-size bed, the sheets of which were so white that it was painful to look at them.

As in the pornographic movies that were quite popular these days, Patrick positioned himself over the dark-haired woman and gripped her neck hard enough to bruise, Donald could swear he could hear her shaky gasping next to him. Was he going to kill her afterwards? At some point, the detective couldn't believe that his assistant had been here all this time. The train of thought distracted him for a moment, but when he returned to the lewd performance, the man almost dropped the binoculars from the way Andrea was sucking Bateman's huge cock as if her life depended on it. But maybe it was? 

Too many questions and no answers. Too much depravity and literally no shame in their movements, it all looked like they had done it so many times before. Patrick's tight grip on the back of her head, urging her to go faster, to take him deeper, until she felt the scratch in her throat, until his cum dripped from her luscious lips and down her chin.

There was something about the way Bateman bent her neck so their lips could meet, oblivious to the taste of his own release, perhaps even turned on by it. About Andrea pressing her soft body so willingly against Bateman's defined abdomen. And if Bateman had ever harbored violent urges toward Miss Moore, now was clearly not the time to convince her; they both sank back onto the white sheets, his broad shoulders almost completely blocking the view of her smaller frame to the voyeuristic eye of Detective Donald Kimball. 

Andrea's legs wrapped around Bateman's surprisingly slender waist, clinging to him as if he might disappear forever if she didn't. Their bodies turned, and if this was a fight, it had to be a very passionate one...

Bateman's hand all over her, on her face, her waist, her backside.

Kimball couldn't help but make an embarrassing noise, fortunately only audible to his own ears, and he gripped the binoculars tighter in response. 

He would never have expected this from a woman who dressed so conservatively every day. What surprised him even more was how a man like Bateman could be so enraptured by a single tantalizing, if not a little trashy, tattoo. 

Massaging the inked skin and kissing his way lower between her legs...

Kimball couldn't say he fully understood what was going on between them, at least psychologically, because the physical attraction was clear to him even from this distance. It was evident in the way Bateman buried his head deeper between her legs, grinding against the sheets, and Andrea's body convulsed and shook with undisguised pleasure.

And Kimball felt relief of a different kind wash over him - for now there was a way for his depraved mind to justify the next step: A private offer Mr. Bateman couldn't refuse.

How many days have passed? Andrea could never know, since she was imprisoned in a golden cage on the 11th floor of the American Gardens Building. The apathy seemed to reach its limits, and the woman even began to refuse to eat, shower, or even leave Bateman's bedroom, hiding under the covers like a frightened animal. Such an attitude only made Patrick more cruel and brutal, Andrea's skin was like a canvas for his marks, such as bruises, scratches or even bites, which he left each time they fucked, but he always took care of them meticulously, applying some balm and bandage.

Why couldn't he just let her die? Why did he keep dragging her out of bed day after day to give her a bath, as if she were his dear pet that he loved to take care of? Well, maybe she really was? The meals Patrick gave her were extremely nutritious and healthy, they were deliciously cooked, but Andrea could never really enjoy their taste. Colors seemed to leave her current life as well as her former self. She was like an empty, broken phial, and all of Bateman's attempts to fill it up were unsuccessful, to say the least; the fact that he was possessively pumping her with his seed didn't count. Though, it was a fucking miracle that the woman hadn't gotten pregnant yet. 

'If I'm really stuck here forever, there's only one way out,' Andrea thought to herself as she watched Bateman cutting an apple for her in the kitchen, the knife so sharp that Patrick didn't even have to use any pressure to cut the fruit. 'I should try to kill him,' she jerked away as the man appeared in front of the kitchen island and offered her a slice of apple with a wicked glint in his hazel eyes. 

"I'm not hungry," Andrea muttered, turning away and crossing her arms. The only thing she could think about now, besides the constant plotting of her possible escape, was the upcoming party Bateman was going to take her to. Even though she still couldn't believe that he was actually going to let her go out with him. It was so weird. "Am I really going with you? Or it's just another evil joke?"

There was an undisguised challenge in Andrea's voice that only fueled Bateman's interest in her. This woman was like an unruly element, a force he wanted to tame so badly, and he knew that one day he would eventually do it.

"No jokes, honey," Patrick sneered, leaning against the kitchen counter, the apple slice still in his hand. "But," the man suddenly straightened up and walked around the corner to get even closer to Andrea. "This is not an ordinary party, this is a special one."

"Special?"

Smirking haughtily, the man stopped right next to her, his one hand already finding a place on her shoulder, kneading it in a relaxing way, but it only made her more nervous. "Yes, it's hosted by one of my friends from Wall Street," his soft baritone echoed off the walls, creating a strangely hypnotic vibe. "I'm sure you'll like it."

With a devilish grin, Patrick quickly popped the apple slice into his mouth before drawing close to Andrea's face and in the next second, their lips collided in a sweet but possessive kiss. The fruit was so tasty and soft that its juice spilled out and ran down the woman's chin and neck. Holding her in place with his strong arm, Bateman pulled away only to catch the small drops of sugary fluid running down her soft skin, causing Andrea to shiver, but she managed to stifle a moan.

"Does your friend know what you've done?" She asked quietly, her head tilted to the side, and even though his touch was pleasurable, there was no way she was going to show it to him. 

"And what have I done?" He replied, locking his tantalizing gaze with hers. "I just claimed what was mine, don't you think?"

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and my amazing co-writer @iron-flavored-lipgloss and turn on notifications to know when we update!

[99liners]

hello there :)

got an kaiho!jeongguk ask in your plate.

Just read the drabble and I honestly feel so enraged, this man needs some tight fierce kick from his wife.

Can it be like she makes him 'feel' sorry without him realising like it's a natural instinct, he gets a cold shoulder from her, she looks blank and lifeless, no reaction, he keeps on doing little things to make up for the fuck up. Though it's a big expectation from him he's kaiho! jeongguk but we can't ignore the fact that he loves her like crazy too.

It's like he warms up seeing her with their son, forcing out a smile for the little one. He notices the scars and bruises he gave her. Then it ends into a make up sex.

Don't expect a big reaction from him but this needs a healing drabble for the aching heart of oc.

have a good day/night 🤝🏻🥺

Anonymous asked: What are aeira thoughts about jjk after the drabble thingy

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

opus kaiho, drabble number 1.5 / tatemae series 建前:

pairing: detective!jeon jeongguk x trophy!wife reader extra character(s): kim tanaz (enouement) genre: angst, smut, a bit of fluff for our wounded hearts, marriage!au, age-gap!au (7 years). words: 4.338 warnings: hurt, toxic relationship, lots of baby kento cause we deserve it, breastfeeding, make-up sex, soft sex, fingering, orgasm (f), cowgirl position, missionary position, unprotected sex. original one-shot: kaiho continuation of: ➴ opus kaiho, drabble number 1 part of: tatemae; 建前 — a bts series

jeongguk watched for a while from the doorframe, watched as your body kept slumping down from the fatigue but you straightened up your back every time and kept sitting quietly, your fingers caressing kento's cheek while he continued feeding.

when kento's eyes started closing from the sleep, jeongguk walked away to the bedroom to wait for you.

five minutes passed, then ten minutes passed too but you were not coming back. curious, jeongguk stood up from the bed and headed to the nursery only to find kento in his crib, sleeping snuggly with his soft toys while you had fallen asleep on your knees leaning on the side of the crib. passed out would be a better term.

sighing, your husband made his way to your limp body, careful to not wake up his toddler. he picked you up gently before heading to your shared bedroom.

laying you down on your side of the bed, he switched off the lights and walked to the living room, to have another drink.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

jeongguk must have fallen asleep on the couch in the living room as he woke up with a heavy head. last night's scotch did a number on him. the rays of sunlight felt like small needles piercing through his irises. letting a soft groan, he tried to raise his left arm to cover his eyes from the invading sun when he felt the presence of a blanket on him. he did not sleep with one. his eyes opened in a snap, small black orbs still trying to adjust to the brightness in the room when he pieced it together that you must have put the blanket on him.

after all he did last night, all that he put you through, all that he made you endure — you still had the humanity left in you put a blanket on him.

pushing the blanket off him, he sat up when his feet planted on one of kento's squeaky toys making a loud noise. he retracted his feet at once, cursing at himself but his features softened when he heard kento's laugh from another room. the toddler appeared from his nursery, crawling his way to locate the noise and on seeing his father he quickened up his pace. bam came up behind him, his always on-duty babysitter. as far as jeongguk remembers he had dropped off bam at the kennel yesterday when he first realized that you had run away. the kennel keeper must have returned the sweet boy while he was sleeping like a log.

jeongguk stood up and walked over to pick up the toddler, "hey buddy, where's mum?" he looked around for his wife, his eyes searching the bedroom hallway.

kento's small wrist clasped around jeongguk's sweatshirt drawstrings, tugging at them as he babbled some ineligible sounds, to which jeongguk let a chuckle.

it was almost time for him to leave for work so he walked with the toddler towards his bedroom when he heard the faint sounds and understood that you are taking a shower. you must have kept kento in his playing space on the nursery floor with bam on guard before going to the bathroom.

jeongguk put kento down in the middle of the bed, bam followed and sat down beside the toddler, his body shielding him from the open end of the bed. knowing it was safe to look away, jeongguk quickly freshened up and dressed up in his work gear. he was putting his jacket on when you finished washing up and stepped out of the bathroom.

"where is my badge," your husband mumbled under his breath, looking around the nightstand.

patting dry your hair with a towel, you could see that the badge was in kento's hands; the toddler tugging at its chain, but you kept quiet and feigned a blind eye.

after checking all the drawers, jeongguk turned around and saw kento playing with his badge, "hey, i need that back," he gently tried to remove the badge from his son's hand but kento only tightened his grip, his face contorting into one of annoyance as he babbled some words, as if scolding his father for trying to take away his plaything.

"cmon buddy, i am already late," instead of trying to pull it away with force, jeongguk picked up kento again and tried to barter the badge for a squeaky toy he picked up from the floor. the house is filled with toys. that is jeongguk's love language, he is awkward when tasked with spending time with his child but keeps buying toys non-stop.

"see, this one makes noise," he kept squeaking it, trying get kento's attention but kento held onto the badge like his life depended on it.

growing impatient with his cellphone constantly vibrating in his trousers pocket, jeongguk somehow retrieved the badge from the toddler's death claws and tried replacing it with the squeaky chicken but the toddler, as stubborn as his father, started wailing. dropping the stupid yellow chicken on the floor, he started making grabby hands for the badge.

"cmon, you're on my side, right? we will play when i come back," jeongguk tried to talk to his son but was only met with the latter's high pitched wails in reply.

the entire time, you had just been doing your skincare routine, not giving a second glace towards the father-son duo doing their drug deal. taking out some neosporin, you applied it gently on the back of your left elbow where you had sustained a gash from last night's ordeal.

walking over to where you sitting on the ottoman in front of the dressing table, jeongguk placed the crying child in your lap and kept leaning as his eyes took in the bruises he left behind.

you did not meet his eyes and held your son, a small smile on your lips as you started to sway him in your arms which seemed to calm the demon child down a bit.

jeongguk wanted to say something but found himself at a loss of words. he quietly removed himself from towering over you and walked out.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

it has been three weeks since detective jeon jeongguk has heard his wife's voice. well that is technically a lie because he sometimes hear you talking to kento, your voice dripping with affection, adoration and love and then the moment you are aware of your husband's presence, it was like you retracted yourself. he has not even seen you smiling either, only ever seeing it from the side when you are smiling and playing with the toddler.

jeongguk has tried everything; talking to you is like talking to a wall. you do not even breathe in his direction let alone reply to him. no words, no gestures, no expressions — whatever he asks or says is just met with pin drop silence. he tried getting angry at you for that, raising his voice, threatening to punish you for giving him the silent treatment but there was not even a change in your expression to any of those empty threats. yes, they were empty threats and a part of you knew that as well; you had seen the worst of him that unfortunate night, it could not get worse than that. and even if it gets bad, what is the worst that can happen? he will end up killing you? well, death does not scare you anymore. as long as kento is taken care of, you just simply do not care.

jeongguk even tried to go on a hunger strike; he refused to eat any meals. well, it did not make a difference because you weren't exactly insisting for him to eat. food was made and kept in the kitchen, whoever wanted to eat, whenever they wanted to eat, they were free to do so and in case jeongguk does not eat, you just clean up and clear everything. so the hunger strike only weakened jeongguk but there were no other gains to it. you were still the unmoving pillar.

at nights, sleeping in the same bed, if his hands even accidentally touched you, you would just proceed to take your clothes off; still the same emotionless face. jeongguk yelled at you one night — it was psychologically fucked up — you were not a prostitute, you were his wife.

"what's wrong with you!" his yell boomed in the closed space before he threw away the covers in a hurry and made his way to the living room to sleep on the couch. ever since, he has slept on the couch. he is too scared to witness that sight again. it gives him nightmares, he wakes up some nights in cold sweat. when he cannot sleep, he walks over to kento's nursery and sleeps at the feet of the crib — in the same position he had found you, passed out, that night.

nothing — none of that incites a reaction or a reply from you. sounds only come out of your throat when they are directed at kento or bam. you eat alone when he is not home, you take showers in the empty house and refuse to step out of the house. when he is home, he only ever sees you with a book in hand.

this one time there were no groceries left in the refrigerator. simple! you just stopped cooking. one day was sustained by cereals, the next day by instant ramen and when all of the packeted food finished up, you just stopped eating. this went on for three days before jeongguk finally realized why you had stopped cooking. he just thought you were angry at him and did not want to cook for him anymore and since you used to do everything in his absence, it took him a while to catch up to the fact that the refrigerator was empty and that you had not eaten anything.

"are you fucking sick or what? kento depends on you, he needs you to eat."

you did not even turn to him, quietly making your way to the nursery with a bottle in your hand.

he followed you and watched as you started feeding kento with the bottle.

oh, formula. that still does not excuse the fact that you need to eat. giving up getting you to talk, jeongguk headed to the twenty-four seven supermarket and bought as much food supplies as his car could fit. he restocked the kitchen, the refrigerator and went to sleep on an empty stomach on the couch.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

another week passed, when on one fine sunday morning, jeongguk swallowed his ego and contacted kim tanaz. he was at his wit's end, he does not know anymore how to fix this. he needs to hear your voice, he needs to hear your laugh or he is going to crazy.

your dear friend refused at first but jeongguk insisted that you needed her. finding no further reason to reject the invitation, tanaz had begrudgingly agreed. it isn't like tanaz does not want to talk to you, it is just the fact that it's jeon jeongguk that contacted her. that raised red flags in her mind. had it been you calling her over, she would run to you and baby kento.

when the bell rang, jeongguk was overjoyed to open the door, if he was on better terms with tanaz, he would have hugged her, "thank you so much for coming," his smile was blinding.

"you broke her, didn't you?" tanaz asked, her voice unsure. she cannot forget that aura this man had exuded that night. she just cannot get over that.

completely glossing over that comment, jeongguk ushered her inside, closing the door behind her, "y/n doesn't know you're here so it'll be a pleasant surprise."

"is... is she okay?" there was a desperation in tanaz's voice. she sounded terrified.

"she just needs to talk, i guess," jeongguk flashed another smile before showing her to the bedroom where you were reading a book while kento slept curled up under the covers.

jeongguk sat on the small stool in kento's nursery. since the nursery was just on the other side of the bedroom, he could hear you. he did not care what you talk about with your friend, he just wants to hear your voice, that is enough.

"what did he do?" tanaz's voice was stern as she made her way to her childhood best friend and sat on the edge of the bed facing her.

"how are you?" you asked instead, after clearing the lump in your throat.

"i asked you something, y/n," tanaz reiterated.

"could you quickly check up kento? i haven't been able to make the paediatrician's appointments..."

"y/n...," tanaz interrupted but you continued.

"... i have recently started giving him formula. i am also giving him some mashed rice but mostly breastfeeding."

sighing tanaz turned to kento, "he will be fine, he has you for his mom."

"he is trying to stand up these days. he falls over but he tries his best. crawling isn't cutting it for him anymore," you mentioned, re-fixing the covers over kento, gently running your fingers through the wisp of hair on his temple.

you continued, "i think i should baby proof the furniture around here."

"y/n, i have to ask again, what has happened?" tanaz was gently patting kento's rising and falling chest, matching his breathing.

"i don't know what you're talking about. i'm not sure why you are here either," your words cut deep, your voice left no space for any empathy.

tanaz grimaced at such a reply, "uh i am here cause your parents have been worried about you. i think you should visit them with kento."

"they don't need to worry about me. no one does."

"you're talking like a crazy person, get yourself together," tanaz scoffed, "do you think that is going to leave a positive impact on kento?" she tried to strike where it would hurt you the most; questioning your parenting.

it seemed to work; not much but just a bit as your features softened, your eyes never leaving kento's, the eyes welling up with tears.

by the time a few tears escaped your eyelids, tanaz scooted over and pulled you in a hug. her hold was unmistakable, the grip tight and reassuring. she had locked you between her arms, scared that if she might just loosen the grip even a bit, you would disperse into thin air.

there were no words, you just softly cried in her arms, staining the material of her shirt. you refused to make a single noise, body vibrating to take in breaths between the non-stop crying.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

another week passed since tanaz paid you a visit. jeongguk still cannot get you to say a word until one day when he came back from work and head to the kitchen to find a pot on the stove. the stove was off and jeongguk was starving so he went to take off the steel lid when you swatted his hand away.

"it's hot."

"right, sorr-" jeongguk stopped mid-sentence as the realization hit him, "you.. baby, you talked to me."

you moved the hot-pot to the dining table with the help of mittens and served a plate, "eat it before it gets cold."

you meant to walk away but jeongguk caught your wrist to which your immediate reaction was to withdraw into yourself. he let go of your hand at once, "fuck, i am sorry but can we eat together? please?" his eyes sparkled as he stared at you, forcing himself to anticipate only a positive response.

you stood there quietly and turned again to walk away.

jeongguk grazed your hand this time, scared he will push you away, "please baby, i am begging you please. i will get on my knees if i have to."

you kept quiet, still facing the other way. there was a muffled thud causing you to turn back to see your husband on his knees.

"please, just eat with me. it's killing me, i just can't do this anymore."

it was pathetic, him begging for mercy on his knees — just absolutely pathetic. it hurt your ego a bit. he is supposed to be this amazing police officer, right? he broke too easily, you haven't even served him an ounce of what he made you go through.

scoffing, you walked to the table and sat down, arranging a plate for yourself. deciding against waiting for him, you started eating.

jeongguk hurried to the chair beside you and started eating as well, "it's delicious."

you chewed quietly.

"i know kento's appointment is tomorrow for the vaccine, i will be home around lunch and we will go together, okay?"

"you can take him alone, i don't need to be there," you casually mentioned, focusing solely on your food.

"you're dreaming if you think he'd last without you even for ten minutes. plus, i can never calm him down and the vaccine is going to hurt."

defeated, you sighed and gave a curt nod.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

five weeks after you came back following the unsuccessful escape, you finally stepped a foot out of the house, the house that you have treated like a prison the past few weeks.

there was a honk outside, jeongguk's car. it was exactly one o'clock and he was outside to take you and kento to the paediatrician's clinic.

with kento on your hip, you exited the house and were surprised to find jeongguk standing with the passenger door open. rolling eyes, you ascended the car and strapped yourself, holding kento on your lap.

the ride to the clinic went by without a word, the veil of silence broken by kento's babbles sometimes as he tried to beat open the passenger side window with the lollipop-shaped rattle in his hand.

you were sitting in the clinic, trying to hold down kento so he could get the shot but he kept wiggling away. your husband took over and held the restless toddler down, exposing his bum to the doctor who dabbed the smooth skin with a seventy percent isopropyl alcohol solution before pricking the skin with the needle. the needle size was bigger than usual injections and hence required more force to push it in.

kento's face contorted before he let out a loud wail, trying to wiggle away but jeongguk firmly held him down. you felt tears pricking your eyelids as you stood behind where jeongguk was sat on the stool. you wanted to take kento away, to make this pain stop but he needed the vaccine. trying to keep your hands busy you kept a hand on jeongguk's shoulder, gripping on the material of shirt tightly into a fist.

"almost done, bud," your husband cooed to your son, massaging the injected spot as soon as the doctor was done.

"there you go! he would need a booster shot in another six months," dr choi spoke after discarding the used injection.

you nodded, watching jeongguk stand up holding kento who was hugging his father, his head rested on his shoulder, fat tears still streaming down his face along with a string of snot.

by the time you walked back to the car to head back home, you tried to take kento but he refused to loosen his grip on jeongguk.

"it's okay, you drive," jeongguk walked to the other side of the car and ascended the vehicle.

you would have kept up with your silent treatment but since your eyes were constantly on the road, you could not help but ask him for updates.

"has he fallen asleep?" "is he still crying?" "does he want to come to me?" "if he's hungry let me know."

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

after jeongguk dropped you home, kento drove you absolutely crazy. he had a bump on his cute little bum at the spot where he got the injection. even an accidental graze there had him bawling his eyes out and he refused to calm down. poor thing cried himself to sleep every time he was reminded of the pain.

there was relief in the toddler's eyes when he saw his father at night.

"hey bud, what's wrong?" jeongguk picked up his son who was in your lap but he kept making grabby hands at him.

you raised an eyebrow as kento quieted down as soon as he was in jeongguk's arms. kento rested his head on his father's chest, his small fingers playing with the button of jeongguk's shirt. kento has never been one to be overly affectionate towards his father so such a reaction genuinely surprised you.

"has he eaten?" jeongguk brought you back from your daze as he walked towards the bedroom.

you shook your head, "he wouldn't eat, he has only cried himself all day."

"he's running a fever."

you rushed to kento's side and placed your palm on his forehead. he was fine just a while ago.

"try and feed him, i will get some meds," he handed kento to back you.

this time kento was quiet and latched to your neck, tired eyes closing up.

"hey hey, you gotta eat first," you reminded the child, much like you have reminded his father many a times and proceeded to lay him on your lap before breastfeeding. surprisingly, this time kento did not resist and latched on.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

that night, neither of you got any sleep as kento woke up every two-three hours, crying from the pain. his fever had lowered now but poor thing had a congested nose.

early in the morning when your eyes blinked open, you saw kento curled into your husband, whose arm was enveloping the toddler firmly.

you do not know how long you watched that sight but immediately closed your eyes and pretended to fall asleep when jeongguk's alarm went off.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

the next day, kento's fever was gone and he had started playing with bam again. his cackles filing up your abode.

your husband had taken a day off to be by his son's side and they played together for most of the morning.

you were quietly folding laundry when you heard jeongguk walking in the bedroom after he put kento to sleep after lunch.

"can we talk?"

you stacked kento's folded clothes one over the other, "kento does not have a fever anymore. we don't have to go to the doctor's, i talked to tanaz."

"that's not what i meant."

your hands stopped, "there's nothing to talk about."

"i know i can't ask for forgiveness but i can't do this either. i just went through five weeks without hearing your voice. please let's just talk."

"and i just told you, there is nothing to talk about. i am fine. this is what you wanted, right? pliant little housewife."

"i did what i did cause i was angry. you had run away with our son, y/n."

"and that excuses your behaviour?!" you raised your voice, unknowingly.

"i don't know! talk to me! tell me what to do."

"the fucking nerve you have," you turned around this time, eyes boring holes at him, "you think anything can fix what you did?"

"i don't know! i don't care! all i know is that i just fucking love you," there was brief moment of nothing — unsteady heavy breaths — before jeongguk closed the distance between you two, claiming a wanton kiss from you.

you could not fight him. well, mentally you wanted to but your body did not quite register the commands of your brain as you found yourself kissing him back. you grabbed his collar, not caring about wrinkling the fabric before pulling his face closer to you by the collar, kissing him back with the same fervour.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

jeongguk laid you down gently on the bed, making space for him between your legs and sinking down on top of you.

he broke the kiss, his hand caressing your cheek, "i love you," he left soft kisses on your lips, each one lasting longer than the last one. his other hand travelled down the valley of your breasts to nestle underneath your trousers. the pads of his fingers rubbing the slit of your entrance from over the material of your panties.

his touch was ghost-like, his lips ghosting over yours dipping down once in a while to plant a open mouthed kiss while his fingers worked your bundle of nerves.

short gasps left your lips at the subtle movement. it was like russian roulette, sometimes his fingers did not graze your nub but then sometimes it did, building up anticipation. your arousal soaked and formed a patch on your panties. feeling the faint wetness through the material, jeongguk pushed the cloth aside and finally touched you. his finger dipped in the arousal and lodged itself deep inside you. moving in a linear motion inside the wet cavern, his fingernail grazing along the ridges and bumps inside you.

your spine grew straight and dipped against the mattress when you felt jeongguk adding another finger in the mix. his lips attached to your neck, attacking directly at your soft spot, licking up a stripe and sucking at it while his fingers relentlessly worked your tensed bundle of nerves.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

"can we fuck now?" you asked after coming down from your high. chest rising and falling while jeongguk licked his fingers clean, tasting you carnally.

"no," he shook his head. using his upper body strength, he flipped the pair of you so you were on top of him. his curved hard-length poked at the flesh of your ass.

locking eyes with you, he guided his length to your weeping hole. the bulbous head gathering the arousal from your heat before sinking in, inch-by-inch. you propped your hands on his chest ready to ride him but it did not last long as jeongguk flipped you both again.

hah! you knew it, it was too good to be true. he would never give away his power, his dominance over you so easily. but you were too tired to fight anymore, its not just him suffering the adverse affects. it was eating away at you mentally. you just locked yourself up mentally, emotionally and physically for over a month.

letting go, you did not protest and let him take back the reins.

"i love you," jeongguk proclaimed for probably the third time that day before beginning to thrust into you. his thrusts were languid, he took his time serenading your body, kissing every inch between the slow thrusts. he used this newfound pace to reach deeper angles inside you, leaving red-purple marks everywhere around your neck and chest.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

feedback is deeply appreciated. ✨

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- jaimie

© 𝟫𝟫𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓇𝓈, 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥. 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃.

[breyito]

Fear your sins, not your monsters: Part Two: Tortured Souls

@painlandweek Day 2: Leyends

Part 1 Part 3 Chapters: 2/4 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: Protective Edwin Paine | Edwin PayneUnhinged Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Violence, Torture, Hurt Charles Rowland (DCU), Sickfic, love language: acts of service, painlandweek, BAMF Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Angst with a Happy Ending

A/N: Goodness gracious. This chapter is a behemoth. I think I have not written so much in one go since...2019? When the fires of wrath at Tony's death still lived within me lmao (im still mad, but im also tired now) Anyways!!! This took so long because the scenes just kept needing to be written out and out! And the dialogue! So.much.dialogue. Also, WARNING: there are some descriptions and threats of rape/non-con (about ocs and towards Crystal), so, *please* be careful. These ghosts are some real scumbags. As always, English is not my first language and I have no beta. Also, it's near 5AM, so. Any edits that need doing I'll do later. Enjoy!

Part Two: Tortured Souls

“What-t the fuck do you even want!? ” screamed Charles, after the thirteenth time he was transported from the rocks on the shore onto the cold concrete floor. He punched the floor in frustration but it didn’t make any difference: he wouldn’t feel it even if he tore out chunks of it. He’d tried that, digging his way out, but it was no use; the fucking room returned to its original state no matter what he did. 

(He’d also tried to break the iron bars on the window, but no matter how much of his hands he burned while trying, it was useless. The only thing it did was multiply the pain when he got thrown into the freezing depths again.)

He clenched his teeth while clothing himself again. He heard a giggle that sent another shiver down his spine and to the very core of his essence. 

“Oh, I’m just softening you up, kid.” the witch answered, an incorporeal voice just in his ear. Charles jumped and whirled around, but there was no one. 

“Softening me for what !?” he insisted. “How long do you plan to keep doing this for!?”

“Well…until you no longer have any fight in you, of course.” She giggled again. “That’s the best way to break in a new toy.” 

“I’m not a bloody toy !” he yelled, incandescently furious. The first dregs of a new kind of dread were emerging, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“You are now. Mmm, the things he’ll do to you when he comes back…”she teased, like the mere thought gave her pleasure. She sighed. “It’ll be delicious .”

Charles choked on his helplessness, and tried really hard to be more angry than scared. He almost manages to convince himself he succeeded. 

“See you later, baby. The lake needs time to freeze over, you know.” Just like that, the heavy presence was gone. 

Dawn had come while they talked. Still shivering, Charles curled up on the concrete floor, trying to place himself on the faint rays of sunlight. Not for the first time in his afterlife, he wished he could feel their heat as well as he could feel this permanent cold. It felt like he had never known warmth. Like the golden light of a lantern reflected on a pair of soft green eyes had only ever been an illusion.

Still, he kept Edwin’s face on his mind. The furrow of his eyebrows, the twitch of his nose when he wanted to say something and knew he shouldn’t, the sharp angle of his cheekbones….the tempting bow of his lower lip, just begging to be kissed. 

God…I wished I had just told you. I’m sorry, Edwin. I’m so sorry.  

—- —-- —--

—- —-- —--

By the time Crystal’s alarm went off, it was far past noon already. A part of her wanted to yell at Edwin for letting her oversleep when they were in a crisis, but as she looked around the office and noticed the complete state of chaos it was in, the words died in her throat. 

Edwin was dressed impeccably, though, sharp and without a hair out of place. Somehow, despite being only in his vest and coat, he seemed…more put together than usual. When the light hit him just right, he looked like a threat . It was unsettling, and made her feel ill at ease. But she pushed through it, because this was her friend, worried sick about their other missing friend.

Still, the way his fists kept meeting one another, and the now black gloves he wore gave away his agitation; and choked her up a bit. He had Charles’ necklace around his neck, and he was squeezing it between his fingers after every third time he smashed his knuckles together.

“Hey” she said, as she stood up from the couch.

“Good morning.” Edwin said, turning. “We have plenty to do today, but since the places we need to get to are not open before sundown, we have time for you to grab a bite.”

“I’m fine-”she tried to say.

“Crystal.” he interrupted. “You are alive , and thus have certain basic needs that have to be met for your presence to be beneficial to Charles’ rescue.” He took a deep breath. “If you insist on becoming a hindrance by refusing to take those necessary steps; I have no problem leaving you bound here in the office, until I get him back.” The tone of his voice left her no doubt he was completely serious, and would, in fact, leave her trapped in this room.

“Fuck, fuck , allright.” she conceded, as she put on her shoes. “But you will fill me in on what you found in the meantime.” Edwin tilted his head. 

“Very well.” with that he turned around and crossed through the door. Cursing under her breath, she hurried to follow him.

—-- —-- —--

 Once they were situated in a caffe with her meal in front of her and her earpiece very visible to avoid unwanted attention, she gestured for him to explain. Edwin, sitting across the table, cleared his throat and started.

“As we suspected, I cannot find him through usual tracking spells. This magic user has hidden their signatures too well for that.” He shifted in the seat, looking around before taking out his notebook. “However, I can track the ghost that hired us and lead us right to the trap.”

“Why haven’t you done that already then?”

“Because, first of all, at least back in the church, he had items that made him stronger and managed to escape after hurting Charles but just before he was taken and all the mirrors shattered.”

“So he’s tricky, is what you mean.”

“Exactly. We have no way of knowing if the witch provided him those items solely for the trap or if he has more of them. I’d hate to be ill prepared to face him, especially with you in tow.”

“I can handle myself.” she refuted, tone harsh.

“Crystal.” Edwin waited until she looked him in the eye, which was rare for him so she did. “I may not be very good at social interactions, but I did notice the way he was looking at you. It made me uncomfortable, so I can only imagine what it was like for you.”

“Well.” she said with a strained smile, eyes focused on her plate. “It’s not like it's the first time.” Crystal saw him hesitating on the corner of her eye, and then felt a slight pressure on her sleeve. She looked up and saw him give her a pained smile back.

“I am under no impression that what I experience when I use my disguises is anywhere near the real life, constant feeling of being under scrutiny and threat from those kinds of…men. And while the hardships I suffered when I was alive may give me some insight, it is not the same. But it is not normal and it is not okay.” He looked away for a tick before looking back at her. “In the future, we’ll try to screen these types of clients better. If they cannot treat you with the appropriate respect, they do not deserve our help.” He squeezed her arm once before letting go.

Done with sentimentalities for the time being, he leaned back and busied himself with his notes. Crystal, feeling like she had been punched in the throat, focused back on her meal and tried not to cry.

When enough time had passed that she felt she could speak without sounding choked, she set down her glass and tapped the table to get his attention back.

“You said we needed to go somewhere that wouldn’t be ‘open’ until night. Where is that? Some sort of library, a supernatural store…?”

“Not this time. Are you familiar with the term ‘black market’?” The ghost asked.

“Are you kidding? There’s a black market for magical stuff?” she hissed. “Wouldn’t that just be a regular magical market or whatever?”

“Oh, no. The supernatural world works on complicated networks. Usually, for regular cases, we can go to above board individuals or shops. But sometimes, less… moral objects are needed, and the Obscure Mart is the ideal place to obtain them.”

“Obscure Mart? Damn, you guys really love your theatrics, don’t you?”

“Of course.” he smirked. “That’s half the fun of all of it.” She was tempted to ask what the other half was, but feared getting off track.

“What do we need from this black market then?”

“Ideally, truth spells talismans. The iron chains to contain him are already inside the bag.” he pointed to Charles’ backpack. “Then, maybe some holy oil. Our reserve is quite small, and I’d rather have a larger circle than a small one.”

“Wait a minute. Holy oil? Isn’t that the stuff that can disintegrate a ghost if they touch it?”

“Indeed. Do you remember the abandoned warehouse of the Mc’Call case?” at her nod, he continued. “My plan is to catch unawares, and push him through a mirror into the building. I have already set up a salt circle to avoid him escaping, but I believe a holy fire around that circle will be better.”

“Isn’t that super dangerous?”

“It has its risks, but I think it is worth it. Besides, once you get there, you’ll put out the fire.” He adds.

“I mean, the warehouse is not far from here, but  how do we know that this guy won’t be in, like, Tanzania?” 

“These types usually have a pattern. As we’ve seen, he’s lazy, a pervert and from London. I don’t think he’s gone far at all.”

“Fine, ok. Also, truth spells? Couldn’t you just” she waves her fingers “do one?”

“Not at all. As a form of incantation, truth spells are useless. Truth spells talismans are one of the trickiest bits of magic and do work. The runes need to be in a specific pattern, written down in a special paper, with a particular ink, prepared in a confluence of the ley lines and only in certain phases of the moon.”  

“Well, damn. Off to the black market we go, then.” 

Ignoring the alarmed look from the waitress, she left a tip and got up to follow the ghost boy. 

—-- —-- —--

—- —-- —--

The entrance to the Obscure Mart was hidden in an ancient alleyway, behind a brick wall. Crystal had to bite her tongue not to make any Harry Potter related comments. (She had no desire to listen to another rant about how Rowling did the whole community a huge disservice, since she’d have to defend the world of Harry Potter but not the author because fuck that terf; and she hasn’t got the energy for that).

The market was a lively place, if a bit well, dark. Actual-for-realsies torches were the main source of light. The fires were of multiple colours though, which is cool. There were some stores she could see, but it seemed to be mostly tables and tents at the sides of the very long alley, with some narrow corridors on both sides. It’s not empty, but it’s not packed either. The first person that waved at them smiled, then looked behind Edwin at Crystal, and swallowed.

“Hi, Edwin!” They look behind the teens again. “Where’s Charles?” They ask, barely keeping the smile on their face.

“Taken.” Edwin said, curt. The person talking to them paled and then cursed softly. Crystal bit her lip not to question the wisdom of admitting such a thing, keeping in mind the ghost’s warning before going in: she was not to speak unless directly questioned.. “I need you to point me in the direction of Garreth Gadget?” he asked. Crystal blinked twice and tried not to snort at the name. 

“Y-yeah, sure. He’s on the seventh entrance tonight.” With barely a nod in acknowledgment, Edwin kept walking. 

The psychic girl saw the person that was just talking to them whisper something in the ear of their neighbour, and how this kept repeating as they walked down the road. As she turned to see the reactions of the beings around them she wished she could take the time to gape at all the crazy stuff. There was a giant ass tank with a giant ass glowing and mean looking octopus wearing a tophat that suddenly pulled all his limbs into a little ball and tried to hide behind his tophat . 

“-but who would be this stupid ?” asked a green girl with wings, fluttering agitatedly around her equally colourful friends. Crystal was calling her fairy for now and save the terminology for another day.

  “...yeah, probably someone new…” a sinister matronly ghost whispered to the man next to her, fussing over her wares.

“-ou think we’ll have another Bog Witch situation?” asked a… spooky talking tree?? Everyone that heard him shivered in unison. 

“ -uck, I hope not. That’d be…horrific.” answered the black cat with the equally black kittens.

Seeing as Edwin had gotten ahead of her anyways, she turned around to question the cat. That was the creature she was most used to, even if they were usually very rude.

“What ‘Bog Witch situation’?” she asked, intrigued. 

“Shhh!” The kittens shushed her in unison, eyes wide. They all hurried to hide behind their mother.

“You don’t know about the Bog Witch?” the cat asked, tilting her head.

“ What Bog Witch?”

“Exactly!” the green fairy answered, nodding. 

“No, really. What Bog Witch? And why is she so important?” Crystal was starting to lose her patience. There was a very awkward pause. “I’m new to this supernatural shit, alright? Is it some sort of legend or lore I don’t know about? Does it have anything to do with Edwin?”

“... it’s more like an urban legend. About what happened to her.” whispered a goth human boy. She assumed he was either a psychic or a warlock. He kept looking around, like Edwin would suddenly pop up out of nowhere.

“More like what that boy did to her.” muttered the ghost of a firefighter. 

“It’s not like it wasn’t deserved.” defended the matronly ghost.

“And what happened to her? Did Edwin… kill her?”Crystal asked, apprehensive.

“Oh, no.” the boy snorted. She relaxed slightly. “ Way worse. He erased her from existence. She and her Bog.”

“Which was an overreaction, in my opinion.” added the tree. 

“Erased her from existence…? That can happen? Wouldn’t people notice a whole ecosystem disappearing one day to the next?”

“Not in this case. When we say he ‘erased her from existence’ we mean completely . There are no traces, no records, no memories of them. Us supernatural creatures are the only ones that remember the Witch or the Bog.” Explained the fairy.

“Only faint traces, tho.” The firefighter added. “I assume as a warning.”

“You assume correctly.” Edwin stated, suddenly at her side. Everyone jumped back and quickly scampered away. He grabbed her arm and began leading her back down the road.

“Wait, wait, wait.” she said, stopping. Edwin sighed loudly and turned around, one eyebrow raised. “A warning about what?” she asked.

“About what I am willing to do to get Charles back. There are not many things that fall outside that list.” Crystal shook her head, incredulous.

Before she could question him further Edwin turned around snarling and grabbed a ghost by the shoulder, slamming him against the wall with a single hand. Said ghost was a guy, maybe in his thirties, and looked like the cartoon of a dealer, big brown trench coat and everything.

“Trying to avoid me, Garreth?” Edwin asked.

“Look, kid-”the man started, before yelping as said boy pressed his thumb deep into his clavicle. “Wait, wait-! Whatever you need, okay? I wasn’t sure I’d have what you wanted-”

“I need some truth spells talismans.” Edwin interrupted him. “I’m prepared to pay you handsomely for them.”

“ Truth spells ? I’m afraid I can’t help you there, mate. You know they are incredibly hard to come by-”

“I do. Which is why I know only you would have them tonight.”

“I’m sorry, lad, but-”

“I’ll trade you the immersive copy of the Kamasutra you always try to get your paws on.” The man’s eyes darkened immediately, but he shook his head.

“ Very tempting offer but-”

“Or I can just steal your coat and slice it open until it spills everything you have in there.” Edwin extended his free hand, and swallowing, Crystal put the knife he had given her earlier in it.  

“I’ll take it! Of course I will.” Edwin backed off to let him search the inside pockets of his trench then. “I was planning on using it on my lass, but fuck it. These birds can’t mouth off, can they?” he said, licking his lips. 

Crystal saw Edwin’s shoulders tense in disgust, but knew he couldn’t grimace; so she grimaced for both of them. Garreth finally took a single sheet of paper and gave it to them.

“It’s the only one I’ve got!” he defended himself at their unimpressed looks. “The wife is tricky, alright? Can never get her with these…”he mumbled. 

Edwin inhaled deeply and took a book from inside his own pocket, waving it in front of the man. 

“Holy oil, then, for the rest of it.”

“Hey-!”

“I can always give you just half the book and you can see if it still functions as intended.” he threatened.

“Fine, fine!” the man conceded. “Jeez.” He took a little clay pot from another pocket, tapping the waxed seal as he handed it over. “Straight from Jerusalem.” 

Edwin pressed the book against Garreth’s chest and turned around, pocketing the talisman and the oil. They both began walking, ignoring the wet sounds as the man licked his lips over and over.

They also ignored the way the rest of the beings in the Obscure Mart hunched over, some even hiding under their tables. On the corner of her eye she saw the octopus still in a little ball, just with ink spilled around it. As they left the market and arrived at the normal alley, Crystal stopped Edwin with a hand on his arm.  

“This isn’t like you, Edwin.” she said, softly. “This…brute force? The constant threat of violence? It’s like…”

“I’m Charles?” he finished, sarcastic. “We are not so different in our devotion as it might seem, Crystal.”

“I don’t buy that.” she said. Edwin let out a dry chuckle. “He’s our friend, but-”

“Crystal, you've seen him without me. You have never seen me without him .” he interrupted, eyes stone cold. “I know you think you know how our dynamic works. You think I keep him contained when I’m around, don’t you? Leashed , as some would say?” he smiled, and it was terrifying.  “Oh, dear Crystal....You have got no clue how savage I can be in the shadow of his absence.” 

Crystal took a step back, and Edwin seemed to become smaller. He turned his back on her and rubbed his hand all over his face. 

“I don’t like what I become when he’s threatened, Crystal.” he admitted, looking at the sky. “I’m aware that I can be quite brutal, and that regret is not in my vocabulary when these things happen.” He inhaled. “But this is the only way I know to get him back.”

“Edwin…” she whispered, tearing up.

“He’s always protecting me , saving me . Just yesterday he got injured and distracted because I couldn’t defend myself. Now I have to be strong for the both of us, and be tough enough to do whatever is necessary to save him.” 

Edwin wiped off a teardrop from his cheek, but more just kept falling. Crystal thought ‘Fuck it, they are my boys and I’m not about to lose either one of them’ and hugged him tight. Surprising her, Edwin hugged her back.

“I can’t lose him, Crystal, I can’t .” he whispered, voice trembling. “If you can’t stomach my methods I don’t blame you, but-”

“No, no. ” she interrupted him. “This is for our friend, and as long as you don’t hurt anyone innocent-”

“I promise.” Edwin said. 

“Then you do whatever you need to do to find him.” They separated and smiled weakly at each other, wiping the wetness off their faces. “Now, c’mon, we have a perv ghost to find.”

—-- —-- —--  

—- —-- —--

After finishing the holy oil circle and doing the tracking spell, they had an address. They found their perverted ghost perving on some girls in a club’s bathroom downtown, of course. Crystal setted off the fire alarm so that the bar emptied as Edwin surprised the man. As soon as she saw them disappear through the surface, she turned around and left. Fortunately it was the middle of the week, so her Uber should get to their location quickly enough.

Edwin pushed the ghost through the mirror with a surge of magic, right into the warehouse’s trap. The circle of holy fire was already alight. Edwin quickly followed suit and broke the mirror to prevent an escape. While getting iron shackles to bound the other ghost with, the man shook off the effects of the spell and got up. 

“You again, little boy?” he mocked. “Didn’t get enough of this, did you?” he laughed as he threw a marked stone at Edwin. The boy knocked the stone off course with the chain, and took advantage of the extended arm to get the cuff around it. “ Bloody hell !” the man cursed, trying to shake the metal burning him loose. He desperately patted his pockets with his other arm, trying to reach another stone loaded spell. “Why isn’t this burning you!? ” he yelled.

“It is.” Edwin answered, before reciting an incantation in Latin. “I just don’t care.” He let go of one of the chains as it seemed to become alive, and sent them in the direction of the other ghost. 

The man dodged and tried to run, but Edwin pulled from the chain already around his arm and he fell to the floor. The enchanted chain snaked around the man until he was covered in them, then pulled both arms behind his back and locked them there. The man fell to his knees, and Edwin couldn’t stop thinking how much he looked like a worm. 

Once that was done, he waited for Crystal so she could snuff off the fire. Ignoring the snarls and the cursing, Edwin took off his notebook from his pocket and revised his notes once more. The list of questions he needed to ask hadn’t changed, but it made him feel better. 

About half an hour later, Crystal arrived. Immediately, she broke the salt circle with her shoe and snuffed the oil with the short incantation Edwin had taught her. Edwin nodded in thanks and opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

“I’m staying.”  

Edwin agreed to it, shighing. 

“Fuck” laughed the ghost. “The black bitch is here too? What a party!” he whooped. They both ignored him. 

Taking the talisman out of his pocket, Edwin slapped it against the other ghost’s throat. The ink burned off the paper as it transferred to the man’s skin.

“Do you know where Charles is?” was the first and most important question Edwin had. The man smirked and opened his mouth to give some bullshit answer.

“Of course I don’t, that wench gave me one job and I did it.” Instead, he answered honestly. “What was that?” he asked, alarmed. “What the fuck was that!?” he yelled as he got no response.

“What is your connection with the person that took Charles?” Edwin continued, not letting the disappointment choke him. Of course this lackey didn’t know, it would have been too easy otherwise.

The man tried to bite his lip, but it was useless. The runes glowed and he had to answer.

“That witch?” he laughs. “She was my late mate’s girl. Awesome catch, she is.”

“Why?” asked Crystal.

“Lil’ bit hard to find a bitch that knows how to enjoy herself, huh?” he winked at her as he licked his lips and the blood he spilled. “Hell, sometimes I think she enjoyed it more than we did.”

“...enjoyed what?” asked Edwin, confused. The man laughed as the runes glowed, head thrown back.

“All the girls and boys we completely destroyed.” He said, proudly. Both teens froze . “Fuck, we had such a good run too! There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do, wouldn’t get, for him. Chains, chain saws ? Done. Knives, blowtorches, pliers? Easy. Even got us a speculum once.” he kept on, a sickening longing look on his face. “That was…a hell of a week.”

“Stop.” said Edwin, feeling nauseous. Fortunately, the runes glowed after that command too, rendering the man silent. While the other ghost silently laughed at them, Edwin checked on Crystal. She nodded at him to continue, swallowing. 

“What happened to your…friend?” The man bit his tongue again, but the words kept coming.

“I told you, didn’t I? He died. We both did. Went in a fucking gaze of glory.”

“The police killed you.” Edwin stated. “I don’t remember anything about them stopping a pair of…serial rapists.”

“Oi, have some respect for our skills, we also killed them.” he laughed again at their faces. ”And the pigs never found out!” he howled. “Thought we were just robbers, didn't they?”

The fact that these two monsters were still undiscovered sat like lead on the teens' stomachs. They looked at each other and nodded at the same time. They would get the names of the victims, try and give their families some closure. (Make sure those poor souls went to rest in Heaven.)

“And where is your friend now? Is he working with the witch?” Edwin asked. He lasted longer this time, a trickle of blood getting to his chin. 

“Nah. I saw him get dragged down by something inside a red light, didn’t I? So I ran. Ran back to our flat, and there I found her. Turned out the shite she spouted about energies and magic and whatever bollocks was true.” He shook his head and tilted it to the side, leaving it there.

“And then what happened? What does she want with Charles?” As the rapist’s ghost bit his tongue, the blood finally reached the runes, and cut through them. They glowed once, twice and then dulled. “No!” Edwing screamed. “What does she want with Charles!?”

The other ghost just kept laughing. 

“What are you gonna do now, little boy!? All outta spells already!?” he mocked. He spat on the floor and looked at them with a predatory smile that centred on Crystal. “If you want to hear me talk so much, I can sure tell you what I’d do to this black wench.” He licked his teeth. “Usually my tastes aren’t so exotic , but I’ll make an exception for you, birdie. You look…just so -” he’s interrupted by said ‘birdie’ kicking him in the balls. He wheezed, still laughing.

Edwin, very calmly, walked Crystal back a few steps and stood in front of her, so she wouldn’t have to see that monster’s face.

“It seems I will be extracting the information physically.” he stated, taking off his coat. “You should leave, Crystal.” he said as he took an ornate dagger from his pocket.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…read him?” she asked, wanting nothing more than leave this place where this monster felt so fucking comfortable. The last thing she wanted was to read this fucking jerk and fill her head with the horrors he had committed, but she would if Edwin couldn’t do it.

“It’s not necessary-” he started.

“Yeah!” the man screamed behind them. “Sure you don’t want her to do this?” he laughed. “Your iron knives don’t scare me, boy.”

Edwin lifted an eyebrow in question to Crystal and she nodded. She started walking away as he turned around and smiled at the bound man.

“Oh, this isn’t iron.” he said, clicking his tongue. Edwin waited until the sound of the door closing before continuing. “This is cursed silver . This is not just going to burn you. This is going to ground you in your body in a way you haven’t felt since the day you died.” He carefully traced the edge of the man’s right eye with the blade. “And then, it’s going to turn each and every one of those sensations into agony .” He laughed. The other ghost swallowed, paling. 

“You think I can’t take a little bit of pain?” he still asked, full of bravado.

“ You took my partner away from me .” Edwin snarled. “Do you think I’m only going to inflict a little bit of pain on you?”  

“You wouldn’t.” he objected “You’re not corrupt enough.” the man stated, trying to sound certain but looking wearily at the blade.

“Haven’t you heard? I spent 73 years in Hell.” He slowly walked around the bound ghost, to stop behind him and whisper. “And among my own suffering, I learned many, many things there.” Edwin took off his gloves and let them fall to the floor one by one as he kept walking.

“How to unmake someone apart piece by piece is just one of the lessons.” He caught the terrified gaze of the rapist ghost. “I bet you think you know all about that, don’t you?” He stopped and looked him dead in the eyes. “Only you never had the chance to do it all over again. And again. And again .  So why don’t you let me show you?”

—-- —-- —-- 

Crystal walked outside feeling defeated. She hated it, but she thought that perhaps Edwin would not be able to do it, after the talk they had earlier. And then she would have to read that disgusting mind. She jumped on top of a pile of pallets and shoved her headphones on her head, putting on a metal playlist, just in case.

Not too early, either.

Some really ear-shattering screams begin a few minutes after she leaves. She tried very, very hard to convince herself the screams she heard were coming from the artists.

—-- —-- —-- 

By the time the screams had turned into choked whimpers, hours had passed. Crystal had resorted to putting on her headphones and turning her music to the highest volume, to ignore it. She knew the man inside was the worst kind of scum on this Earth, but he was still a person. He deserved to be punished for all he had done before and what he had done to Charles. This was all for information, she kept telling herself. She would do a lot of things not to lose another friend.

As Edwin walked out of the warehouse, just in his vest and shirt, she noticed he was… covered in blood would be an overstatement, but not by much. His sleeves were dyed red in places and his bare hands were bright pink. As he approached her, he did a movement with one of his hands and the same black smoke she had seen earlier as they did the tracking spell cleaned it all up, almost… devouring the blood he had had on his person.

“You learned anything useful?” she asked, hopeful.

“Yes, rather.” Edwin answered, before his coat wrapped him up and he fixed his gloves. “We should be going, though, we have no time to lose.”

“What? Why?” Crystal said as she jumped down the pallets she had been sitting on to follow him. Red light spilling from the broken windows of the building was her answer. “He’s moving on? Why?” she asked, completely baffled, as she reached his side. The dude had seen his rapist BFF being dragged down to Hell.

“I…convinced him that it was in his best interest to not be within my reach when this case is through. I suppose he thought his chances of surviving Hell are greater than his chances of surviving me .” 

She swallowed a few times, shocked. Noticing she had stopped, Edwin turned around.

“Shall we, Crystal?” he asked, eyebrow lifting.

[ask-the-mafia-boy]

💥‼️-“Who the hell are you..?”-‼️🍫

“what do you want, I’m fucking busy..you wanna ask me questions? Oh- this was the thing Matt was telling me about- an “ask blog” or something . Fine go for it ask me whatever-“

Ooc: hi hi! I’m @squ3akerp33ker This blog goes by a few small rules, no nsfw and keep it kind! Evil characters are aloud but nothing downright mean!!! Anyway personal head cannons! Matt x mello is cannon here! Also got a Gay FtM mello to interact with! Have fun! (Btw my oc lady sasaki (see on @ask-miss-lady-sasaki ) is his godmother and is cannon here!)

~ other Dn blogs I run

@ask-the-greatest-detective - L

@ask-the-mafia-boy -Mello

@ask-kiras-little-sister -Sayu

@ask-rem -Rem

@ryuk-the-pet-rock -Ryuk

@ask-the-old-man -Watari

@busy-playing-with-toys -near

@the-yagami-household lights parents

no NSFW please! And be kind!

[jasontodd-artemisgrace4life]

The joker kills

Jason Todd x reader ( oc )

Part 1 the beginning

Story plot : the original Robin is gone. Leaving babs and you with the bats . Bruce has adopted a new ward and in turn of unfortunate events . The second Robin has died and 4 y later a new vigilante is in town now the rest of the Batfam and the third Robin have to take him down but are they ready for what or who they have found . And what secrets from their past are starting to show up

Disclaimer : under age drink and drug use , torture , neglect , abuse , suicide, fluff , some sensitive contact , swearing , gore , bodily fluids

Masterlisting: joker kills

18 and over 

It was a cold night in Gotham a young dick Grayson and Batman were patrolling the east side , the streets were quiet and dark unusual for Gotham city something was up but neither of them can put their finger on it . there was a flash of smoke and a strange but familiar voice. “ Bruce Wayne meet our daughter” dicks eyes widened as Talia al Gul and her young daughter creep out from the shadows .  “ Bruce you have a daughter?!” Dick says shocked he couldn’t understand why no one ever told him . Bruce’s expression was shocked the girl looked exactly like him she have raven black hair with perfect green ires “ this can’t be … I don’t have a daughter “ Bruce said with a pang of worry he didn’t know how to respond or what to do and Alfred wasn’t hear to give him that good fatherly advice , Talia looked at Bruce as she spoke with a tone of desperation “she needs her father … she’s not safe with me anymore my daughter is a Wayne and she’s now yours till I take her back “ Talia disappeared into the darkness as the young girl stood there on edge dick looked at her in his bright robin suit as Bruce stood towering over the two she looked at the man that was told to be her father and all she could do was think ‘ how … who … when’ Bruce looked at her and spoke “ home “ dick pulled the young girl she was around 5-6 years younger then dick

** time skip **

At the manor that night , Alfred waited for the 3 he wanted to meet the new Wayne they walked in y/n was only 7 years old but she was incredibly intelligent she looked around the manor shocked that it was so friendly and warm even for such a big place she was walked up to a room by Alfred “ this way miss Wayne” Alfred said as y/n followed to a big master bedroom it was so child friendly she had everything a young girl could want

Y/n pov

I saw Alfred leave closing the door . I sat on mattress lord it was so soft and comfortable as I looked around the room the thought of being a multi billionaires daughter was strange . I saw the toys and looked at them as I used my detective skills and analyses them I couldn’t believe what I was seeing they were normal toys I choose to sleep to see where the day would bring me in the morning

[kings-paintbrush]

PART TWO BABEYYY

Working my way thru the headcanons!!! (Copy and pasted reactions from my notes app) fanart of today!!

CHAT I JUST REALIZED TUMBLR ARCHIVES EXIST I DONT HAVE TO SCROLL FOR TWO MINUTES TO REACH THE BOTTOM OF THE BLOG OMG

“How many moms does it take to screw in a lightbulb”

None bc you’re all orphans 😭😭

TWERKING JUNIOR IS A SIGHT I WILL NEVER MENTALLY UNSEE

“I’ll do a thing” kick flip on an invisible skateboard

No wait bc the meme (Mr incredible helping Dash w/ homework) is funnily accurate bc 1- the glasses. 2- Junior actually did track and field or something idk, I don’t know sports

UGH IMAGINE THE ANGST! Devon and Jake being little detectives and trying their hardest to find Junior. Devon w/ the board of red string and multiple tabs open just TRYING. Both of them. But Lexy, at a point, gets tired. She wants to put this to rest, put Junior to rest. She’s grieving and (in her eyes) they’re making it like some missing person’s show.

Glad Glenny :3

THIS IS SO SAD. Omg I love ur writing sm Luna, like I could imagine Junior maybe shaking a bit (getting anxious) whenever he gets hurt bc his dad would always yell and blame Junior for the smallest injury or sickness.

I think Lexy and Glenda would def speed and run every red light with the hood of the They/Them car down

  Ok listen Luna I love you so much (platonically and /j) but WHY DO YOU KEEP MAKING SUCH SAD HEADCANONS. LIKE JUNIOR HAVING NIGHTMARES ABOUT HIS DAD WAAAAH

Anyways, while I take a reading break. Do you guys wanna hear my sad Nica headcanon or my maybe controversial Glenda headcanon?

GYMNASTICS JUNIOR!!! I’m so totally drawing him

I GINISHED ALL OF AUGUST!!!! I read a few of them out of order but shhh

“murder is wrong… unless it’s Logan.”

Luna, Eloise pleaseeee I can’t handle anymore sickeningly sweet headcanons. 

OR THE SAD ONES WAAAAAAA

Live Kingston reaction w/ my possessed toy Chucky oc

@nicascurls @barclaysangel @fairchilds-glasses @high-functioning-fang1rl (please tell me if I forgot anyone 😭 I’m really forgetful)

[nat-seal-well]

Title: changing of the guard

Pairing: Nat Sewell/Detective (OC)

Rating: G

Words: 2,512

The Detective left for a week of training for their new career as an agent—which is all well and good, aside from the fact that Nat misses them. Terribly.

Luckily, fate decides to take pity on her when they come home an entire two days sooner than expected.

(In which Nat has to face one of her worst demons: jealousy, in the form of a familiar stuffed rabbit toy.)

[amphiptere-art]

List of characters/worlds.

OC world

The locked door

Shadow wars

Shadon

Shadow

Vecerin

The brother

The sister

The light dragon king

The light dragon Prince

The hybrid

The hybrids partner

dreamers musings

Various

Chains

I will dig out that folder later.

Moss and car-car

Moss (spinosaurus)

Car-car (baby carcharodontosaurus)

Territory seeking sub adult carcharodontosaurus

FNAF

Warehouse

Dim/Dawn/Dusk

Sun

Moon

Glam Bonnie

Glam foxy

Glam Freddy

Music Man

Owner YN

Adopted by

Bloody lambs, blood moon

Adopted characters

Warehouse daycare

Sun

Moon

Frank the cat

Owner YN

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Mechanical medic

Ralph the repair dragon

Sun

Moon

Other animatronics in the Plex

Adopted by

Lord's brother, infero

Adopted characters

Perrfect thief

Cat King YN

Detective Sun

Police officer Moon

Gang leader Eclipse

Underground informant leader DJ

Underground informer ballerina

Underground informer mangle

Underground informer Bonnie

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Rusted wheels

Sun

Moon

Rattler

Rabbit raiders

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Cryptid eater

Hunter/Cryptid YN

Hunter Sun

Hunter Moon

Hunter eclipse

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Saving Waves

Moon

Sun

Darkened Dawn (eclipse)

Silver reflection (Luna)

Red Wave (Blood Moon)

Monty

Freddy

Chica

Roxy

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Stop you silly siren

Captain Eclipse

First mate Sun

Navigator/siren moon

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Arcade project

Arcade alt Fae

Eclipse

Blackstar

Planet

Sun

Moon

Blood Moon

Pluto

Jack-o-moon

Nova

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Tsams

Red blue and black

Blue Moon (lunar/blood moon)

Sun

Moon

Black Star (eclipse)

Vapor

Monty

Frankie the cat

Sundown dance the dinosaur

Horn the Dragon

Adopted by

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, Chaos

Lord's brother, infero

Kid eclipse, Moom

Adopted characters

TF traveler, refracted glow

TF trapped, crushed glow

TF servant sun, dying fire

TF Void, No light

TF ghosty, wisp

Recovering blood moon

CtOS solar

AE solar !attempted!

Old Tsams

Lunar

Sun

Moon

Eclipse

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Shattered Blue Moon (storyline end)

Strained Black Star (storyline end)

Cruel copy

Butler (eclipse)

Werewolf (Blood Moon)

Gladiator (Sun)

Pastel (Moon)

Witch (Earth)

Wizard (lunar)

Hunter (Monty)

Adopted by

Adopted characters

TF Void, virulent

Beast maker

Lunara

Eclipse

Sun

Moon

Blood Moon

Adopted by

Lord's brother, infero

Adopted characters

Empty cup

Honey (Lord lunar)

Cider (Eclipse)

Apple (wither storm)

Adopted by

Lord's brother, infero

Adopted characters

Chapter -SSC

Story written in ash

Chapter (eclipse)

Adopted by

Lord's brother, infero

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, gluttony?

Empty cup, Honey -SSC

Kid eclipse, teen solar flare

Adopted characters

Separated blood moon -LB

It's tough to be a god

Huitzilin (Hum) (Sun)

Zipacna (Zip) (Monty)

Xolotl (Xolo) (Eclipse like child)

Axo's Daddy

Adopted by

Adopted characters

TF traveler

Desolate hunger

Ravenous (lunar/blood moon)

Earth

Sun

Moon

Fork face

Monty

Adopted by

Lord's brother, infero

Kid eclipse, Moom

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, chaos

Adopted characters

Lost Lord

Eclipse

Sun

Lunar

Blood Moon

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Hostage Solar, little fox

Under the stage

Blood Moon

Moon

Lunar

Adopted by

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, wrath and sloth.

Adopted characters

Eclipse Brothers

Eclipse

Lunar

Blood Moon

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Sulky star cluster

Cygnus (eclipse)

Antares (eclipse)

Rigel (eclipse)

Algol (eclipse)

Star holder Glam Freddy

Adopted by

Autumbra au, kill code

Adopted characters

TF Traveler -Orion's belt

Autumbra Eclipse *friend*

Toy swap

Crimple (DCA swap)

Glam toy Freddy (Glam Freddy swap)

Glam toy Chica (Roxy swap)

Glam toy Bonnie (Glam Chica swap)

Glam toy mangle (foxy swap)

Puppet (Monty swap)

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Alternate solar

Solar

Sun

Moon

Lunar

Blood Moon

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Autumbra *friend*

Runaway eclipse

Eclipse

Incomplete lunar

Adopted by

Lord's brother ?in works?

Remorseful Lord Eclipse ?In works?

Adopted characters

Sundown

Eclipse

Code Moon (blood moon)

Moon

Segway

Black bear

Alcoholic human friend

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Chased Eclipse -SSC

Actual dad eclipse

Eclipse

Dad code

Blood Moon

Sun

Moon

Lunar

Earth

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Chased eclipse

Hati (moon)

Sköll (Sun)

leiðr (eclipse)

bana (kill code)

Adopted by

Kid eclipse, Moom

Sundown Eclipse -SSC

Adopted characters

Orion's belt

Betelgeuse, basil (Lord Lunar)

Rigel (Eclipse)

Saiph (Good wither storm)

Bellatrix, Bella (Blood Moon)

Mintata, Mika (cyborg lindworm)

Alnilam, Alnim (Sun)

Alnitak, Alnik (Moon)

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Tf Traveler

Supernova AU

Nova (lunar/eclipse)

Sun

Moon

Killcode

Blood Moon

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Arcane AU

Arcane (lunar/Blood Moon)

... Everyone else dead

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Demon alts

Blue Moon

Black Star

Ravenous

RBB Earth

Adopted by

Lord's brother, Vim

Adopted characters

Tf void demon, demon wisp

Mer alts

Blue Moon

Black Star

Red Moon

False star

Annular

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Fey alts

Blue Moon

Crimple

Researcher Blackstar

Hunter Earth

Adopted by

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, chaos

Lord's brother, puppy

Adopted characters

Tf Traveler fey *friend*

Warrior cats alts (mostly created by @artoutoftheblue)

Blue Moon

Black Frost

Lion light

Rain cloud

Berry heart

Many others

[marcishaun]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

Thanks for the tag @natolesims! 💗

I chose Deidra, a sim I had created almost 2 years ago. I had created a save just for her, and gave her extended family members. She eventually fell in love with & married a townie, and when the Growing Together ep came out, she became my 1st sim to have an infant. They eventually had 4 kids!

1. What uncommon/common fear do they have?

Being alone. It led to arguments with her sister, Kendra, who felt Deidra rushed into a relationship with Stan because she wanted to get married & have a baby before it was too late.

2. Do they have any pet peeves?

Laziness. Deidra gets frustrated easily, & hates when others don't help.

3. What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Baby toys (their youngest sleeps in their room), perfume & lotions, hair wraps.

4. What do they notice first in a person?

Probably how they react to her. She can be self-conscious, and seems to be on high alert & observes how people perceive her.

5. On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Maybe a 2. It's low. She's never had a major physical injury, and prefers to not deal with any emotional or mental ones.

6. Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Absolutely flight mode. After constantly bickering with her sister, because Kendra didn't accept her now-husband, Deidra stopped speaking to her.

7. Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Deidra comes from an average sized family. She has 1 younger sister (Kendra), and 1 younger brother (Shawn), and even has the family oriented trait.

8. What animal represents them best?

Maybe a lioness. Takes care of all of the babies, hunts/cooks, and is the one REALLY in charge.

9. What is a smell that they dislike?

Trash/dirty dish water. It means someone didn't complete their chores.

10. Have they broken any bones?

No.

11. How would a stranger likely describe them?

Quiet, but nice. Seems well organized and put together.

12. Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Night owl. Her mornings are chaos.

13. What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Deidra loves vanilla & cinnamon, and just the smell of pickles makes her gag.

14. Do they have any hobbies?

Reading and art/painting/sketching.

15. Boom, surprise birthday party!How do they react to surprises?

Pleasantly surprised, but anxious.

16. Do they like to wear jewelry?

Not really. Maybe for special occasions.

17. Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Very neat!

18. What are two emotions they feel the most?

The last time I played her, they were Flirty & probably some form of Tense.

19. Do they have a favorite fabric?

Probably cotton. Simple.

20. What kind of accent do they have?

English, United States. Just realized most of my sims don't have regional American accents, and maybe it's because most people tell me that they can't detect a regional accent in me.

Tagging: @changingplumbob @deardiaryts4 @oofiesims

[babyseraphim]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @emryses, thank you for always tagging me in such fun things!!

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 11

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 122,112

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I write pretty much exclusively for Dead Boy Detectives, but I have a oneshot for Marvel from 2017, and an unfinished AU for Critical Role that I'll probably never go back to

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

By Lantern's Light

my healing needed more than time

foolish flame

The Case of the Selkie's Skin

Overloaded

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do when I have the time and energy. All my free time is kind of eaten up by writing the fics themselves, so unless the comment is really long or really funny, I usually don't respond. But I appreciate every comment just the same, they are what keep me motivated to write

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I honestly don't really do fics with angsty endings? Because all of my fics are super angsty in general, so I like to end things on a positive note. I guess the closest would be The Case of the Selkie's Skin because there's not really any closure there, they just move onto the next case. But even that one still has a cathartic ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

foolish flame for sure. A lot of my fic endings tend to be bittersweet in some way, but this one was a pure fluffy ending

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nah. I don't think I've been regularly posting fics long enough for that.

9. Do you write smut?

I have written smut exactly once, and while it was a really cathartic/rewarding experience, I don't know if I'll ever do it again. It's a little too far out of my comfort zone.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No, crossovers aren't really my thing, though I have toyed with the idea of writing a dead boy detectives/pushing daises crossover just for the hell of it. But it probably won't ever make it onto paper.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and the idea of it kinda scares me lol

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Literally changes day to day. I think kirk/spock is the one that will truly own my heart forever, but payneland really is the perfect ship for me (hence all the fanfiction)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Case of Eros's Arrow, which is sitting with 4 chapters on AO3. I still like the concept of it, and my OCs in it, but my writing has changed so much since I started it and I just don't really feel connected to the work itself anymore. Which is a shame, because I left my readers on a total cliffhanger. Whoops.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do alright with descriptive prose (or I enjoy writing it, at the very least). I'm also good at worldbuilding and coming up with fun/creative plots.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Transitions between scenes, and general construction of dialogue (though I've gotten better at dialogue over recent months). I can also get a little ramble-y when it comes to introspection, though I'm usually pretty good about cutting it all down by the time the final draft is done.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't have many thoughts on it. I only speak english, and the only language I've ever used in my fics besides english is Latin (for magic purposes).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural, I think? It was OC fanfiction, I still have it floating around this blog somewhere

20. Favorite fics you've written?

dye it all, rosary I think is my favorite right now. I don't know what the fuck I was on when I wrote that fic, but I wrote chapter 1 in one sitting, and then chapter 2 over the course of a few months. It turned out so much better than I ever could have hoped, and I just truly love it so much.

I also love my healing needed more than time because it has all the stuff that I love in it (magic, lesbians, dogs, kids, and other fun stuff to come). I'm also just really proud that I've managed to stick with it as long as I have; it's the first piece of writing over 14k that I've ever written in my life.

I tag: @many-gay-magpies, @deadtwinksdetectiveagency, @williamvapespeare, and @the-ipre!