#i think i'll keep that as a general tag bc i get these questions quite frequently

[breyito]

Fear your sins, not your monsters: Part Three: Paths Converging

Continuation of Day 1 and 2 of @painlandweek

Part 1 Part 2 Chapters: 3/5 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

Here on AO3

A/N: Hello! I'm so, so sorry about the delay! My ADHD has been kicking my ass for the last couple of weeks and istg i feel like i can't do anything. Anyways. I had to split this chapter in half, cause it was getting ridiculously long again, and I wasnt going to finish the rest of it today. (I have this new app on my phone that is voice-to-text and it changed my life! All the dialogues i keep forgetting bc of lack of energy to write i can just *dictate* and it feels so good lol. It also lenghtened this quite a bit, tho.) No moodboard for this one either, not yet. I'll try to make one tomorrow (or in a few hours, as it is, once again, 5am). No beta and English is not my native language, so any mistakes please point them out. I hope you enjoy this one! I'm very curious about what you'll think of this one ;P Oh, WARNING:This contains violence, threats of rape towards Charles and other children's souls, etc.

Part Three: Paths Converging

They headed back to the office. On the way, Crystal with her phone in her ear, Edwin had explained the general gist of things to her. Mainly that the other ghost hadn’t known the location of the lair of the witch, but had visited a few times. To allow him to travel there via mirror, she had given him a token attuned to him and his energy. They could use the token, but not to travel with it more than once; and definitely not to escape the place. (Not to mention that Crystal would have never let Edwin go on his own alone, without even the possibility of helping him. She was glad, still, that the ghost boy had not even suggested that.)

“So how can we use it?” she asked, looking right at him, as she plopped down on the couch. They were inside the office now and nosy taxi drivers couldn’t watch her suspiciously anymore. Also, she was exhausted and couldn’t bother with more acting for a couple of hours.

Edwin had gone straight to the massive pile of books on top of every single flat surface, including boxes full of files. He had looked at the books covering the desk for a full thirty seconds and then sent a wave of the black smoke at them, and they actually began moving on their own towards the floor. Crystal was…ignoring that for now, for the sake of her sanity. (How many things was she already ignoring?)

“I think I can combine a couple of rituals to create a sort of…tether, between Charles and myself.” he replied to her, as he removed his outer layers. “This would, basically, allow us to communicate with him and follow his energy to the place where the witch has absconded him.”

“Don’t tethers usually need something more physical to work?” she questioned, curious. At least that’s what the book she had been reading before their last case went wildly off course had said. Maybe the black smoke allowed him to tweak the limits?

“I have something more physical of his.” Edwin said, touching Charles’ necklace still around his neck. ”And for me, well, some blood or the ghost equivalent should work.”  His eyes showed his mind went far, far away for a couple of moments. She said nothing, remembering the sudden rush of cold, dark, wet she had felt the last time she touched it. Edwin eventually shook off the melancholy and straightened his posture.

“I will need to compile the different arrays and rites I need to build this ritual. It will take me at least a few hours, so I suggest you rest up.” 

“Are you sure I can’t help you…?” she asked, despite knowing he probably wouldn’t let her. Building rituals from scratch was a whole new area and she had exactly zero experience with that.

“Crystal.” He sighed, already spreading an alarming amount of books on the now clean desk. “I don’t mean to be rude, but unless you have a working knowledge of any of the Celtic languages, Aramaic, Latin or Fuþorc Runes I’ll ask you to keep out of it.”

“Okay, okay.” she rolled her eyes. Kicking her shoes off, she got comfortable on the couch and covered herself with the blanket.  “But wake me up if you need to leave, alright?” she mumbled, half asleep already. “I don’t wanna panic if you’re not there when I wake up…”

Several hours later, Edwin shook her awake. Still woozy from sleep, she understood he needed a specific kind of knife he didn’t have but knew where to get. And that he had to travel by mirror to the place. She mumbled her understanding to him, and he left. 

It was only when she was about to drop back into a deep sleep that her brain actually zoned in to the important part. She sat up on the couch so suddenly she felt dizzy.

“ Esther Finch’s fucking house!?” she yelled at the flat mirror, frustrated beyond belief. “Are you shitting me , Edwin!?” she cursed at the empty office. She creamed into the pillow a bit more, then got up. At least this should give her time to shower.

—-- —-- —--

—-- —-- —--

Edwin really doesn’t want to go back to Port Townsend. The place was bleak, damp and filled with memories of suffering. Whether it is mental, emotional or physical; he’d experienced more pain in that little town in a single month than in the rest of the world in the last fifteen years. 

But Charles was missing. Taken by another witch with a penchant for sick, twisted games and children’s pain. The ritual he came up with was novel and needed every single element to work. The dagger was fundamental. Edwin could not risk wasting more time looking for another knife with the same qualities when he already knew the location of one.

So he travelled to Port Townsend via mirror. He landed in Crystal’s old room above Jenny’s shop, and walked up to the house in a disguise. It was better than trying to travel directly inside Finch’s house, which surely had enchantments against ghosts using her mirrors that way.

As soon as his feet landed inside a ten metre radius, he could feel the repellent wards telling him to go away. This magic felt different than Finch’s. Probably the Cat King, then. Or maybe Tragic Mick? He ignored the compulsion, and kept walking up the path into the porch. 

He took off his glasses before reaching the stairs, and became his true self again. A loud caw immediately greeted him. He paused and looked back,  and saw Monty in his true form on a tree branch. The pause allowed the crow to land in the handrail of the porch, exuding an air of disapproval. Edwin sighed. 

“I need to get something from inside this house.” he said, focusing on one of the crows’ eyes. “I’m not going to-” he paused before he promised something he couldn’t keep. Because he couldn’t promise not to hurt someone with what he took from inside. “I’m going to get something from inside this house.” He said instead. “And you are not going to stop me.”

Monty lifted into the air, agitated, cowing. His wings produced so much wind that Edwin took a step back, but then straightened up and pulled his notebook and held it open with one hand.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Monty.” he stated. “But I will if you try to stop me.” His other hand opened and a bright orange flame erupted, tinged with wisps of black. An alarmed cry made Edwin feel like garbage, but he held the flame on his palm. In control, but ready to attack.

The crow flew off then, shrill caws on his way. Edwin took a deep breath and extinguished the fire, wiping his hand on his coat. He pocketed his notebook and climbed the stairs. Fortunately, he went in as easily as he had done for Becky.

By the time Edwin had found the dagger, and snatched a book that looked like it had been involved in the creation of the ghastly machine that so much pain it had caused him; it was already too late. He felt a pulse of energy from outside, and cursed under his breath. He could try to undo the spells on the mirrors of the house, but that would take too long. So he sighed and marched outside. 

“Edwin, Edwin, Edwin. You don't write, you don't call…” the Cat King said with a fake moue. Edwin looked up and saw Monty flying in circles above their heads. Little snitch , he thought, resentful.

“Cat King.” he said, nodding in respect, trying to walk around him. “I'm just leaving.” But diplomacy never worked on him. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The other man clicked his tongue, stepping in Edwin’s path. The ghost boy stopped where he was, not willing to get closer.

“What do you think you are doing, entering the house of the Wicked Witch of the West?” The shapeshifter asked, sauntering around him. He was wearing heeled boots, and it added a little height difference that irked Edwin.  

“I already have what I came here looking for. Now, if you please, I'm in a hurry.” Edwin tried to give another step, but the Cat King walked closer again, forcing him to step back. He was not putting himself in reach again. Monty cowed, flying faster, agitated.

“No. I don't think I please.” he tilted his head. “Knowledge like Esther's is dangerous. And I just can't let you leave with something dangerous.” The trickster’s tone was still playful, and it was grating on Edwin’s nerves.

“Knowledge is just knowledge.” the detective said, exasperated. “And I'm not asking you for permission.” he countered, snappish, head held high. “You're wasting my time .” The Cat King’s eyes shone.

“You should always have time for me, dear.” he said, smile cutting. “I can always just trap you here again, Edwin.” He offered, the smile still on.

“...And I can always start killing your subjects until you let me leave. But we are not doing that, are we, Thomas? ” he smirked back, biting. There was something cold in those green eyes that made the shifter want to shiver. The faint wisps of black coming up from the ground were certainly unnerving. Monty screeched in alarm and abruptly landed on a branch several metres down. 

“You know my name.” the Cat King realised, stepping back. 

“I do. I know a lot of things about you now.” the ghost added, taking a step forward. “You like to play games . But I already knew that, from last time.” Edwin took another step closer. “The difference is, Charles is not with me right now. And I don't have a lot of patience for games when he is in danger.” he snarled. 

“So that is why you're doing this? For him? You came all the way to America, to the house where you were tortured in, just for him ?” Thomas asked, indignant.

“I would do many more things for him.” Edwin stated, staring right into those yellow eyes, daring. The shifter scoffed, leaning closer, looking down at the ghost.

“Like threatening me?” The man asked, incredulous.

“I'm not threatening you. I'm warning you.” Edwin said, looking up, teeth bared. It looked more like a show of aggression from a cornered animal than a smile. “You're either on my side, or standing in my fucking way. And I'll get through anything standing in my way to get to him.” Their faces were only a few centimetres apart now, noses almost touching.

Thomas knew, in that moment, that Edwin was being completely honest. He seemed not to care a single bit what could happen to him as long as he could leave to go help his little friend. Nor what enemies he could leave behind. The Cat King felt a bit peeved about it, quite hot under the collar, and a lot jealous. That kind of loyalty to another person, to the point of detriment to yourself? He’d never felt it nor had he had it. It was alluring , damn it.   

“Deathly little thing, aren’t you?” he whispered to this mysterious boy, unwillingly feeling more attracted to him still. The tension between them finally broke when Edwin’s lips formed a teasing smile and his eyes softened a little.

“Only when I have to.” he whispered back, before breaking his gaze and pressing the faintest of kisses on Thomas’ jaw, surprising him. He then sidestepped him and walked out of the yard. 

By the time the Cat King turned around, Edwin was already jumping into a puddle, travelling to where he needed to be. Monty cowed twice and Thomas felt the hidden amusement.

“Oh, shut it, bird-boy. Like you didn’t defy your witch for him, even after he rejected you.” he snapped. 

—-- —-- —--

—-- —-- —--

Charles woke up all at once, gasping. He was sopping wet and chained to the ceiling. The metal of the chains was iron, and they were burning every part of his body that touched them. He was still only wearing his trousers, felt his extremities numb with cold and some of his curls had crusted over with ice.

When his eyes got used to the dim room, he could see it was the same basement he had been trapped in since the beginning. The only real difference was that he wasn’t alone this time. There was a woman on the corner, deep in the shadows. For what he could see, she was pretty fit. Charles might have looked twice if he had seen her on the street.  But with her wild blonde hair, tight red dress and tall boots; she looked like she was wearing a halloween costume that couldn’t decide if it was vampire or witch. A large white spider, with its eyes closed, peacefully placed inside her hair didn’t help matters. He had almost missed it.

“You’re finally awake!” she cheered, getting closer. “Now we can finally get started .” her grin was dangerous and the boy felt a shiver go down his spine.

Taking advantage of the fact that his feet barely touch the ground, she spun him around, making him lose balance. His knee buckled under him and his whole weight was left suspended from his shoulders until he managed to find his footing again. He was trembling even worse  after that, and tears of frustration began leaking from his eyes.

“Are you crying? How cute .” she cooed, grabbing his face and licking the trail the drop had left on his cheek. ”I’d give you a comfort kiss, but I don’t snog anyone that’s not my man.”

“You. Are. Crazy.” Charles said, leaning away from her. The spider opened its eyes and winked with half of them, waving two of its legs. The shivers got worse.

“Don’t be like that, poppet. Everything I’m doing is for love.”

“ Love ?” he repeated, sceptical. 

“Yes! I’m gonna get the love of my life back, and you’re gonna help me.”

“I don’t know anything about love potions or spells; we don’t mess with that shite.” Charles explained, weary. The witch snorted, the spider wiggled, like it was laughing too. (Was this her familiar? Did it share the same amount of sentience as Monty? Somehow, that thought was terrifying).

“Pffff, I don’t mean like that . My boo and I were tragically separated when he was killed by the police and then he got dragged to Hell! ” she huffed. “Like, what even? I just want him back .” 

Usually, Charles was willing to give everyone a chance to explain themselves. It’s not like the system was flawless. Good souls could be sent to Hell, like it had happened with Edwin. 

However, since he was still shivering from the literal torture this woman had put him through (torture she implied her ‘boo’ would enjoy); he would go out on a limb an bet the bloke completely deserved his tenure in Hell.

“And why was he killed by the police?” he asked anyway, already tired of dealing with this. The chat was a step up from the freezing water, but the talk itself so far was three steps down from the earlier solitude.

“Because his stupid best friend and he decided to rob a bank!” she exclaimed, clearly miffed. This time, when she grabbed him to spin him around, her nails left deep scratches, burning and bleeding. This bitch had iron in her nail polish, apparently. “They were caught doing that. I mean, you have to give it to the pigs. They really messed up on that one.”she laughed. “They were caught and got done in as fucking robbers. They didn't even search their flat! They just killed them and left them at the morgue.  They never found out that we were the ones dropping the mangled bodies everywhere.”

“You're sick.” Charles said, swallowing, as he found his rooting again. 

“Oh, baby, of course I am. Didn't I tell you already? I love making people break, playing with them.” She licked her lips, seductive. The ghost boy just felt nauseous. “What I love even more is watching my man do it for me. And that's why you're going to help me bring him back.”

“From Hell ?” He asked, incredulous. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn't help you. Edwin is the one with the knowledge of Hell and its paths, not me. You chose the wrong one of us to kidnap.”

“I don’t think I did. Word is, you are the one that I saved him from hell this time.” she smiled.  She put her extended arm on his shoulder and placed her weight on the claw-like nails sinking in the muscle there. He felt blood dripping down his back. The spider began walking down her shoulder and onto her arm. Leaning in until their faces almost touched, she looked him dead in the eyes, despite his efforts to keep the blasted thing in his line of sight. 

“I did, yeah.” He admitted. “But I had help. I had someone else, much more powerful than I or you ever could be. They opened a portal down to Hell and they kept it open until we got back. You can't do that.” He swallowed. “Can you?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking, now looking at the spider.

Cursing, she pushed him back and started roaming the room, hands wildly gesturing. The spider had quickly climbed up to her head again. Charles had lost his balance and was spinning again, but at least that beast was not near him. He took her cursing as a negative to his question. Charles wanted to believe this was good news (he dreaded the thought of that man anywhere but Hell), but you never knew how others were going to react when you didn’t give them the information they wanted. This woman? Completely bonkers. Hopefully she would just let him in here, until Edwin rescued him. Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of the basement.

“Hmm, maybe I can't open up a portal. But I can make a deal with a demon so that I can get into hell.” She was smiling again. “And you will help me find my way out.”

“A deal with a demon is a terrible idea. Besides, lady, even if I tell you all I know about hell, which I won’t do. The level Edwin was at? It was terrible, but it wasn't that deep. The level your boo must be in… it has to be one of the deepest and darkest ones, just based on what you describe me you two did, to people.”

“I can think of a few things I can offer the demon so that he helps me.” she countered, now pensive instead of agitated.

“Like what?”

“Like you, your soul. Essence, whatever. Or one of the others’.” Charles was almost afraid to ask.

“Others?”

“Oh, yeah. I've been collecting little souls as gifts for my boyfriend when he comes back. Since, you know, he won't be able to interact with the living now he is dead and will become a ghost.”

“... Little souls?” he asked again, disgusted. He tried leaning away, but she plunged her nails into his face to keep his eyes on her. 

“Yeah, the souls of little ones!” she smiled, and it was a terrible smile. A wild hunger seemed to seep from her feverish eyes. “He's not that much into kids. He prefers young people, teenagers, you know.” she winked at him, suggestive.

“So he's a paedophile, but not that much of a paedophile?” Charles mocked, deciding to ignore the implications. 

She let go of his face only to slap him hard, hard enough to leave deep gouges from the iron on the nails she wore.

“He hates that word!” she screamed, offended. “He just… really loves young people.” The sheer incredulity must have shown on his face, because she just continued. “Anyways, I was collecting these souls so he could play with them when he comes back, you know? I bet he will be in a foul mood, and I just thought 'well what better way to cheer him up than letting him blow off some steam on a couple souls he will find pleasing?’ ' I took great care in ensuring they were innocent, as well. The responses to all the pain and the bit of little pleasure here and there that we can teach them are always the best .” she sighed, dreamy. “And ghosts are so much more resilient! We can play with you and play with you and play with you until you break.” She said, eyes evaluating him up and down. “And then we can start all over again!” she laughed.

Charles puked all over the floor.

"You truly are," he said in disgusted awe " the most despicable person I've ever met. And a few months ago I was at the mercy of a witch that cannibalised little girls. "

“Oh, cannibalism.” she hummed. “That sounds fun, doesn’t it, Ari?” she cooed at her familiar, reaching for the thing. “You have to get me her number.” she said to him.

Charles spat at her. It barely touched her face before she shrieked and sent him crashing to the back of the room. The chains had fallen from the ceiling and onto his torso, burning him terribly.  

“And you need to learn some manners." She said as he screamed from the sudden agony. Then she turned her back on him and walked towards the door. "I guess I will just leave you to repeat the cycle until you have had enough."

Charles’ last coherent thought before he was dropped under the thick frozen layer of water of the lake instead of through the ice as always, was that Edwin and he would absolutely need to save those poor spirits.

—-- —-- —--

—-- —-- —--

“That took longer than you said it would.” Crystal said as soon as he stepped through the mirror into the office. “Did the house not let you in?” she asked, remembering how they had just phased through the walls last time.

“The house gave me no problem at all.” Edwin answered, placing the knife on the desk. “It was Monty, actually.” he explained, with a grimace. “I had an encounter with the Cat king,” Crystal’s eyebrow went up “but not much came out of it. He was very insistent about not letting any kind of knowledge leave that witch's house.” He took off his coat and his gloves and, uncharacteristically, threw them onto the couch. It was the only free surface, she supposed. “Which would normally be a good thing, but in these circumstances, I could not abide by it.”

“And did he give you any trouble?” she questioned, sceptical. 

“He tried to threaten me, so I just…threatened him back.” Edwin said, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, trying to play it off as unimpressive. Yeah, Crystal was not gonna let that one slide.

“ You threatened the Cat King?” she said, incredulous. “He left you trapped in Port Townsend for weeks!”

“Ah, but I didn't know anything about him back then.” He countered. “And I wasn't dabbling in anything more dangerous than usual. And perhaps the most important thing of all…” Edwin started, leafing through his notes.

“...It was you in danger, not Charles.” Crystal interrupted, finishing the idea.

“Exactly.” He said, pleased that she understood this about him by now.

As they began prepping the materials for this massive ritual, she managed to corroborate that it was far beyond anything they had shown her so far. The ritual seemed so complicated. Beyond the dagger that he had to pick up from the other side of the world, it required them to move every single piece of furniture against the walls, then grabbing the bathroom mirror for a later use. 

After that, they placed a bedsheet on the floor, drawing a big circle on it with black chalk, and drew a set of runes inside it, near the centre. Then Edwin grabbed Charles' backpack, and took out a bottle full of a viscous dark liquid. He then lit a dozen candles inside the marked circle, each one in its specific place. A wave of different smells assaulted Crystal’s nose. She supposed that ghosts weren’t bothered by it since they couldn't smell much. She tried very hard not to sneeze.

Edwin retrieved two different cups from a cupboard, one made from silver and one from crystal, and poured the liquid from the bottle inside the silver one. For the other, he took out Esther’s knife from his pocket and sliced his forearm with it. Blood tinted with ectoplasm began to pour inside the empty cup, and once it was three quarters full he removed the wound from it to avoid overspilling. He slid two fingers over the wound and the black smoke that was becoming familiar to Crystal ate up the blood and sealed the wound. Then, he reached for Charles' chain around his neck and took it off. Gently, he let it fall inside the cup that had his blood. He took a big piece of parchment paper, those old ones that you see only in movies, yellowed with age, thick, and coarse to the touch. 

With a grimace, he sank his fingers into the first cup. A low hum came from his throat, sounding almost like words but not really. He began writing symbols with the blood onto the parchment. With the other hand, he began tracing the same symbols again, on another blank sheet of parchment, on top of the first one. These symbols were mirrored, and written with his own blood from the second cup. Once he was done, a string of Latin came out of his lips, and the second set of symbols lifted up in the air, glowing golden light, and fused into the first set, on the first sheet of parchment. The other parchment disintegrated as soon as the last trace of blood left the paper. 

Edwin let out a breath Crystal hadn't noticed he was holding. Done, he took the parchment, and began ripping it in pieces, keeping each symbol inside its own square of paper, and placed the symbols inside the circle according to the instructions written down by his own hand. The bloody symbols then sank through the paper and sealed themselves to the linen fabric. Edwin waved his hand and all the blank pieces of paper flew from the array. Then he took the necklace from inside the second cup and put it into the first cup. 

He took the bathroom mirror, and placed it in the middle of the circle array spell, then took the necklace out of the cup and flicked it in the air where it remained still, frozen in place at about two metres high. The symbols on the bedsheet and the blood on the necklace pulsed with golden energy every couple of heartbeats.

“I need you,” he started to say, very clearly, “to not, for any reason, enter the circle.”

“All right” she said, heart beating like crazy. 

“Whatever I ask you to bring me, you will put it inside the circle without touching inside it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Edwin repeated, breathing deep. He knelt beside the foggy mirror on the floor and began writing on it with his finger. At the same time, he spoke up, to keep her in the loop. “Charles? Are you there?”

Charles

are you there?

[makoredeyes]

Keep it coming you say? 👀 I saw that tag! I'm ~quite~ bored, so here's a couple questions/whatever they're considered, lol.

Yes, flattery will get me very far here, indeed! To where? I do not know, but whatever, compliments! You deserve them. I'm rather sure my friends are tired of hearing me go on and on about destiny characters, ':)

How's your writing wip's going so far? I'm waiting very (im)patiently for any updates, I've totally not re-read everything forty-two times.. hope their all going well!

A little self indulgence here, but I like to think Andal Brask was the Hunter Vanguard when Osiris and Saint-14 were in, because.. come on, I'm rather sure the time frame adds up. I like to believe before, because their dynamic just seems really fun to me. Lots of great opportunities. (I partly blame that one fanart sylenth-l made of Andal and Osiris for this, it was really funny). What do you think their dynamic would be like?

What do you think it'd be like if the Iron Lords mysteriously came back alive? 👀 I'm talking, SIVA couldn't actually kill them because their ghosts hid in the light in their bodies, and SIVA only goes after non-organic materials right? Maybe it couldn't work it's way into the light, and as long as their ghost + light are intact, = alive. But *only* after the Warmind managed to get control over SIVA and free their physical bodies from harm? It's a thought I had, influenced by a few fics but I quite like the idea. Just imagine, a ghostless, lightless Osiris receiving word that maybe, they weren't as dead as he thought they were. Or Fel and Timur coming back only to realize what happened to Osiris?? Poor Sagira?? Learning lady Efrideet's alive? 👀 (Is that her name?)

Or perhaps, In this one fic, it's Timur and his special, take over your will little stunt he has, was keeping SIVA at bay, I think that's pretty neat too! So many possibilities! (If you were the one that wrote these, I hope you see this as a compliment cause I am not about to go dig through Ao3 to find them xD)

Either way, it'd be like a modern!au of the iron lords, for them at least, hah (I can just imagine Gheleon having a mental breakdown that their memorial involved fighting one another)

I can't really think of anything, but rest assured I will *probably* be back once I'm dome tormenting my poor boy Tevis

Ahaha yeesss YESSSS I feed me I'm such an attention whore lmao RIP XD. (fr tho bless you ;_; )

I am writing! There are longer gaps between posts rn because I have lots going on in my life, but also, because I am working on many fics at once. I counted the other day I have 26 WIPs but six I am actively working on in concert - three for Housefire that are all directly intermingled plot and timing-wise to the point where I'm not even entirely sure what order I'll be posting them in yet, another chapter for Things Found (I am trying to stay 2 chapters ahead with that to make sure I have a cohesive story for it), and two XXX stand-alone one-shots! I should fish out another teaser for everyone soon. I think it'll be one of the one-shots that makes it out next tbh they're the furthest along. But the naughty stuff is also the slowest to get written bc I yanno...can't write that stuff at work, etc. haha. But I've felt a new wind of motivation lately for writing and am picking away at these projects pretty regularly. <3

I'm going to admit I am not very well-read on the hunter squad in general, BUT iirc I believe Andal was Vanguard during the City Age. He was definitely around as I recall his presence in the comics. The problem with that time is that Osiris was largely absent. This was when the Cult of Osiris was gaining traction, and Osiris' obsession with the Darkness and the Vex was really heating up. He was neglecting his duties to the Vanguard (with Ikora often standing in as proxy for him) and he wasn't really paying attention to anyone else. Like. At all. There was a lot of unhappy tension even with Saint at that time. Andal, by all accounts, was a damn good fella though, and while I think just about everyone nettled Osiris, Andal also stuck up for him where he could. Even if Osiris couldn't appreciate that in the moment I'm sure he would come to later. I look at Osiris and see him as he is now, with some hard lessons learned and some hard losses under his belt, realizing a little too late some of the damn good souls he had in his court, Andal included. All of that said, 100% in a lighter, easier setting, a free-spirit like Andal (and/or Cayde...heaven forbid them both together!) would drive a stuffed shirt like Osiris up an absolute freaking wall with pure comical results, hands down.

(a side note, a brain storm, an insane thought that just poisoned my brain - a sweeter moment hidden from time: Andal's guitar and this gift of song Saint has hinted Osiris has....??????! I'm not melting it's just hot in here, right???)

As for Ironsbane and SIVA... I have INDEED put an awful lot of thought into this. Quite a lot. So much. I have my own ideas on ways to circumvent the disaster, O Reader Mine, but you're going to have to wait a while longer for me to write it. :3 (Housefire is, after all, ultimately, a fixit )

*but no SIVA attacks whatever it is programmed to, organic or not: and Rasputin set it on hundreds of Iron Lords and wiped them all out with the sole exception Efrideet and Saladin with the directives “REPLICATE, ELIMINATE, IMMUNIZE” it was not what SIVA was made to do but he deliberately repurposed it into a weapon. (I could go on for years about Rasputin and his darker epochs, but especially his misappropriation of SIVA lol)

** Your mention of Timur and his spooky skills DID remind me of another fic I need to get back to as well OTL TT_TT I still have requests I took in January I have yet to complete. At this rate it's going to take me all year to get them all done and by then I'll be taking more aahaha whuups.

[bbluejoseph]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you for tagging me @thatbluelight !! i'm not always an ask games kind of person, but This. this is perfect and i had a lot of fun with it :)

how many works do you have on ao3?

98! getting veeeery close to that big 100 lol

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

486,142 apparently. not quite as many as i thought lol

3. what fandoms do you write for?

twenty one pilots, although i do have an old wtnv crossover in the mix somewhere. i've been thinking about writing for the nbc hannibal fandom, but haven't done it yet

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

bio is #1 by quite a bit <3 followed by odium, which i don't really like as much as i did when i first wrote it. after that is surrounded/hounded, spend some time (forever), and know me. oh god i forgot about that one

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try to, especially if they're longer comments, if people ask questions, if people said they liked the work, etc. i really appreciate the feedback and hearing how much people like something i've made motivates me to write more by a million lmao

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

probably home or colder bones

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

no one's gonna love you, not just bc everything works out and they get together but bc i was really happy with that ending and with the finished work

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

8. do you get hate on any fics?

not that i've ever noticed

without going into detail, i've written mlm and wlw. i generally try to make it abstract/not use explicit language because i have a Normal Healthy Relationship with sex and i can definitely say the word "cock" without wanting to tunnel into the ground like a gopher. as you can probably tell by this fic

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

just the pilots/wtnv crossover one, nothing too crazy (yet)

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, a few times! i Need to remember to put the translation link in the author's notes and notify people in the tags that there's multiple versions available

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

i've had other people beta for me once or twice, and sometimes i've beta'd for other people, but other than that, no. a proper collab sounds fun though!

14. what's your all time favorite ship?

tyler n josh obviously but doesn't have to be romantic!! i just think they're neat :)

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

if i listed every wip i've ever wanted to finish here, i'd be here all day lol. off of ao3, i'd love to finish all is cold betwixt; i have the whole thing mapped out, i just never wrote it. off the top of my head, i've got another shapeshifter one that's a bit less angsty than surrounded and a bit more silly. there's another more personal one that involves growing up in a changing climate, but it's never really gotten anywhere and was mostly just a vent fic. but probably the one i'd most like to finish involves love and fire and a terrible, terrible curse (or is it) with a splash of survivor's guilt.

16. what are your writing strengths?

once i get going on a writing session i Will keep going for a while. like if i get in the Writing Mood and sit down and actually do it, i'll get a shit ton of it finished

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

too many commas probably. also lately i've been starting fics without a general idea of the ending or how to get there, which leads me to abandon them or take long ass breaks. i also have trouble actually sitting down and Writing because i get distracted by other things that are less intense and require less focus but are still fun

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

nothing wrong with that, though i've never done it myself. i do appreciate when authors add a translation of the dialogue into english though so i don't have to whip out google translate

19. first fandom you wrote for?

warrior cats. i was 13, didn't have any social media, and i put several chapters to a spiral-bound notebook. not my best moment

20. favorite fic you've written?

no one's gonna love you and home are tied for #1, with surrounded/hounded and spend some time (forever) tied for #2. all my lady pilots stuff is #3; i don't think it's necessarily good but i enjoyed writing it!

tagging a few of my fellow fic writers here! no pressure to do the tag, and if anyone wants me to tag them, i'm happy to

@i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky @rabler @edyluewho @kiitchensiink

i KNOW there's more but i don't know everyone's tumblr urls since they aren't the same as their names on ao3 lol. if you see this and you want to do this, this is me tagging you <3

[revasserium]

i love all of your works so much !! how did you develop your writing style? i always find myself coming back to your blog and rereading favorites because your writing is just 😘😘muah!

hi darling u__u thank you so much! hmmm i think things like style are developed over the span of a really long time -- it’s like talking about a persons art style, or the way they look at the world. its very much a slow process -- i developed my own style from just years and years of writing a lot and reading a lot of writing i admired. 

and when i was younger, i would be so inspired by some of the books i read, i would immediately write something after finishing a book, and try to write in that author’s style. just to see how it felt. its really good to experiment! literally, there’s nothing wrong with copying a writer’s style to see how it feels, so long as you don’t go around touting it as your own. 

i’ve written pieces inspired by fight club, edgar allen poe, sylvia plath, cathrynne m valente, the book thief, and tons of others. and they’ve all been really really interesting studies in style. i also just like to read a lot of really aesthetic writing, and a lot of times, plot is rather irrelevant to me LOL, i can read about nothing so long as the writing is beautiful. oscar wilde does that really well, OH and fitzgerald i mean “It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living.” like are you KIDDING ME not only is it beautiful but it fucking RHYMED. and i’m sure i’ve reblogged this quote but 

“They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.”  

IS TJIS A JOKE FITZGERALD. how does someone have the AUDACITY to be so fREAKISHLY good at writing like. WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL FUCKS. 

so i go back to books i like, and short stories i like over and over again. neil gaiman is a wonderful writer of short stories that hit you in the FEELS outta fucking NOWHERE. anthony doer is another. hemmingway too -- just gorgeous, unbelievably beautiful writing to the point where im just fucking LIVID at how good writing can be. and that it seems unfair that we have access to the same alphabet, the same words in the dictionary are available to all of us just the same, so it just seems VASTLY UNFAIR that someone could be so good. 

so i like to just immerse myself in writing that i really adore, and the cool thing about writing is, once you read it, the words are yours. you can never unread something. you can never go back. and once they’re yours, you can use them how you please. so just like how people say “you are what you eat” well by the same vein, “you write what you read” as well. 

so read a ton. read until you forget the world you live in. read until you can taste the words on your tongue. read till you’re so full of words that they come spelling back out. and that’s how you become a better writer u__u 

[actualbird]

I wonder if some of my asks have gotten eaten, too?? 🤔 I sent one a couple weeks ago but I figured u didn't have an answer for it yet, or it got lost in the tumblr void. It was a lot of rambling, but basically, I was wondering about your thoughts on the relationship b/w darius (the police guy) and artem? I was talking specifically about what u thought about them as a romantic ship, but I'm also curious about ur thoughts on them in general.

Also, completely different question: what's ur favorite thing about marluke??

Hope ur doing well!

- 🐍

hi, snake!!! :DDD

and oH GOSH YEAH. //smacks my hand to my face. I DID GET THAT ASK!!! i put it in my drafts for later because u mentioned in it the nxx polycule meeting mc's parents and i wanted to expand on that!! and then because i have the messiest brain in the world, i forgot. and i am so, so sorry about that!!!

but i can answer ur qs now, hehe!

irt darius/artem: IVE READ THE WHOLE SHIP TAG ON AO3 OF THEM ACTUALLY. AND GENUINELY, I LOVE IT.

in like almost every other ship, artem is the older one, but here darius has like a fuckin decade over him and ngl that tingles the (responsible) age difference relationship lover in me!!

they have a rlly interesting dynamic, be it romantic or platonic. because while artem is Stiff, darius is Stiff But Gruff. to me, it seems that artem is a rock. and darius is......a bigger rock and also if u touch it, u may get a gash. im making so much sense rn. also, i just love the bad boy/straight laced dynamic, which darius/artem also delivers on. this ship has got a LOT of good stuff hehehehe

so yea, i think theyre great!! i love reading fics of them, ship or not!! on the writing end tho, idt i'll ever write them romantically in my own fics/content because im just hugely fixated on the NXX Five.

however i do wanna write darius at some point. like outsider to the nxx pov style, wondering what the HELL is going on in that team. do they hate each other? or are they all in love? or are they all just fucking? and why are ALL of their emergency contacts EACH OTHER???

darius looks tired. i want to give him a reason for that exhaustion.

irt my fave thing about marius/luke: I CAN ONLY PICK ONE???? oh god......

okay im gonna give you three but also keep in mind that my brain feels like fruits in a blender and then chucked into a microwave

theyre funny together!! when i write them, their banter with each other just flows out so naturally. these guys are comedy central.

i kin luke pearce and marius von hagen is my type. sue me.

okay heres a smart one that really matters to me: together, theyd push the other to points where something has to change. marius and luke both are stubborn as fuck. when they believe in something, they dont back down. they get up into somebodys face and, if they want to, will force that person into action. and that action can be for better or for worse (i just like writing the stories where it's for the better bc i cant stand bad endings huhu) but my point is here is like. when youve got two characters like these guys, the story moves forward. they quite literally push the narrative into action because of their personalities and values.

again, huge apologies for forgetting about your ask. ive been doing okay and i hope you are doing good as well :')

[psicomma-s-very-secret-lab]

First night at the Asylum

This has been in my inbox (the old lab's inbox orz) for a looooong time and it's not even the oldest question LOL. I postponed my answer bc I wanted to incorporate some art here and I haven't had the chance to draw Shaun and Lo together in ages but man I feel like answering this after all this time cause their story is important even though it's been eclipsed by the story between Shaun and Ani ;__; (Girl look what a mess you've made smh)

Shaun and Loan's story is gross I'll tell you right away. If you want something cute or even remotely decent and healthy, better go on your way.

That question would actually require me to review all Asphyxia and Asphyxia Unplugged from A to Z, so I guess I'll only cover the encouter, from Loan's perspective here. Trigger warnings : violence, sex, drugs, French, and obscenely long post.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Loan is 18 when he meets Shaun for the first time. He recently left the family home to move to the big city. After a few weeks in university he realises he has absolutely no interest in pursuing an academic career and drops his literary studies. He begins to live at night and makes a few acquaintances; Madame Charlie, a drag queen and a retired sex worker owning a pub in Camden town quickly takes Loan under her wing and the Ace of Hearts becomes Loan's rehearsal place for him and his newly formed band, Asphyxia. Loan also finds a part time job as an apprentice tattoo artist thanks to his connections ; it amuses him for a while, less boring than uni but he doesn't take it very seriously either. Loan has a brief affair in the end of the year with a guy called Adrian, the only contact he kept from university. Adrian had a brand new kind of stress reliever he would use before his finals, and he generously offered to share some with Loan one night after an okay fuck. That's when Loan takes his first bite in the poison apple. 

It was just a few puffs but the feeling heroin gave him was so amazing it got Loan coming back for more, and more and even more. His growing lust for the substance probably scared Adrian away cause the guy stopped answering Loan's calls eventually. That's when he thought it'd be a good idea to get wasted and drag his skinny ass up to the North of London in the middle of the night to get some by himself. 

He was walking down your typical film noir stinky dark alley when two guys approached him and started to molest him. Loan never knew what sobriety and subtlety meant so he would always go outside dressed like a glam punk whore and it never failed to get him into trouble of course.

Loan fought back quite honourably, he even managed to give a nice black eye to one of his aggressors thanks to his armour ring. But he eventually ended up being kicked to the ground, curling himself up like a louse. He heard the loud barking of a big dog and the beating suddenly stopped. A voice coming from afar shouted across the alley "Aren't ya fucktards supposed to be working?" – Silence. The dog growled.- "'The hell are you lookin at? Get the fuck out of here." They left in a hurry, their tail between their legs. Loan heard the ferocious barks again when the two guys ran away, then he heard the panting breathing of the dog and its claws on the pavement ; it was coming near him. Loan opened an eye and despite his blurry vision he could distinguish the big, drooling face of an adult rottweiler being busy sniffing his jacket.

« Aika. » The dog immediately left Loan alone, going back to its owner’s side. He could see a long shadow stretching on the ground. He was only a few feet away, slowly getting closer.

Loan was still shuddering on the pavement when he saw a hand reaching out to him. His brain was too dizzy from the beating and the alcohol he didn't hesitate one sec before grabbing that hand. He was freezing and that hand was oddly warm. Loan stumbled as he got back on his feet. "Hey, easy there." Then he spat out some blood before finally looking at his accidental saviour. 

And there he was. Shaun Myers. If only Loan had known all the trouble this man would bring upon him he would probably have run away like the devil was chasing him the second he met those eyes. He first noticed his height ; being 6'3'' and always wearing big combat boots Loan wasn't used to have to look up to meet the eyes of whoever he was talking to. 

Shaun shamelessly rose Loan's chin with his hand, wiping some blood off with his thumb, suddenly noticing Loan's pretty features. The dog was staying still, only its tail wriggling slowly.

"You. You're definitely not a whore." He said scrutinizing Lo's bruised face. Loan said nothing. 

"And you're far from home, aren't ya?"

"Kinda." 

"What brings you here?" 

"I don't know. What do you think brings people here?"

The dog didn’t seem very convinced by Loan’s answer and snarled, baring its teeth.

« Aika… » Its owner said, in a low but firm tone. The dog calmed down, sat reluctantly at Shaun’s feet, still visibly suspicious about Loan.

Shaun smiled, amused by Loan’s wit and his dog’s animosity towards him, then he lit up cigarette and Loan was instantly struck by Shaun's bicoloured gaze. Every single detail about his face set his insides on fire. But it only lasted for half a second- when the lighter swallowed back the flame the image got lost into Loan's numb mind and quickly faded into oblivion. 

"Follow me."

Loan followed Shaun for what seemed like an eternity. The streets were poorly lit but he felt like everyone was looking at them -the hobos, the hookers, the creeps at their windows-  it was like everyone was staring at his open lip and smudged makeup. Little did he know that people weren't staring at him because of his looks, but because of the tall dark stranger beside him walking with a huge rottweiler on the loose.

They arrived near what seemed to be an abandoned facility - probably used to be a school a few decades ago- some walls were partly demolished and the area was surrounded by Portakabins covered with graffitis that the builders must've been using by the time they were working on the site but now they were mostly squats for hobos and junkies. Shaun led him to a wobbly spiral service staircase and Loan almost fell a couple times trying to get down. "Watch your step" they ended up in a narrow alley - a smell of puke and liquor in the dry cold air - Shaun locked the staircase behind them as Loan started to hear some noise coming from nearby ; indistinct people chatting, dull basses, other big dogs barking... 

« You wait here. »

He whistled and left with the dog. Loan noticed the animal was strangely calm and didn’t respond when it heard the other dogs barking from afar. Shaun came back five minutes later, without his beast beside him.

"This way."

He led him to the opposite direction the noises were coming from, to what seemed like a fire door. Shaun pushed it and suddenly Loan was overwhelmed by the harsh neon lights and the infernal hubbub saturating the air of what oddly resembled a hospital corridor. "You're gonna stay here or what? Move your ass." The high pitched, crass laughter of a girl almost broke one of Loan's eardrums as Shaun got him into another staircase. Dirty walls covered with obscene caricatures, tags, spray paint, a guy with his hands inside the panties of the girl he was making out with at the third flight of stairs...

They must've been two floors underground when Shaun stopped in front of one of the doors with a red "Keep out" sign on it. While he was searching for  the right  key inside of his hoodie, Loan lost himself contemplating the graffitis. He noticed a used condom sticked to the tread of his boot. "Putain fait chier. Merde." Then a few 'clicks' and the door opened. Shaun held it open for him as Loan got inside. Never in his entire life had he heard basses so fucking loud. He could barely see in front of him. The atmosphere reeked of sex and marijuana. He could glimpse some sweaty naked bodies kissed by the electric blue neons lights as the DJ was blasting the beat even louder. For a second he lost sight of Shaun and bumped into an obscenely obese guy making him spill some of his drink "I'll cut you motherfucker!" Loan felt a hand grabbing his shoulder and taking him away before the guy could do anything "Better not get lost, Alice, we're already late."

"Late for what? What the fuck is this place??" 

"That's the Asylum babe, the only safe place for someone like you."

Loan was probably too wasted to understand that the Asylum was the actual name of this underground Babylon and he would learn later that Shaun wasn't exactly the type to make jokes anyway. 

Crossing the dancefloor of the Asylum was like swimming into the dark waters of the Phlegethon. A long time ago that place used to be an olympic swimming pool, the echo and even the tiles on the walls were still here- but now it was just a gaping black hole swarming with the broken souls of the fallen ones. 

As they arrived near the bar some girl, visibly quite drunk, made her way to Shaun and lasciviously wrapped her arms around his neck, Loan barely saw her murmuring a word to his ear before Shaun pushed her away with a rare violence. She fell on a  guy who was sitting at the bar, spilling all the drinks and breaking some of the glasses. Her head hit the counter as she fell down, her ankles twisted in what must've been an awfully painful position. Loan stared at her unconscious body in shock - Shaun didn't even flinch when he brushed her off and started to make his way upstairs, without even looking back. "You coming or what?" It was only now that Loan actually considered whether he should really follow that guy or not. He looked at that girl - he could read the words she was muttering on her lips "help me... One hit... Just one fucking hit..." as a some blood was running down her forehead.

Loan shook his head and climbed up the stairs. Some fucking stairs again. Everyone was staring at him, was staring at Shaun, but Loan was honestly too busy staring at Shaun's ass through his Levi's to notice any of that. 

Five minutes later this whole freak show seemed like a distant dream; the room where Shaun had taken Loan was quiet, so quiet it was hard to believe it was actually located in the same building. But here it was ; low ceiling, dim lighting, nothing on the walls where the yellowish white paint was partly bloated because of past inundations, no windows, just one queen size bed with messy sheets, a coffee table with an ashtray filled with cigarettes butts, a door half opened on what seemed to be a bathroom, and one big wardrobe facing the bed. 

"Make yourself at home." 

He sat on the bed as Shaun took off his jacket, beanie and hoodie, tossing them on the chair by the coffee table. Loan was ogling at each of his movements with impunity ; he was way too fucked up to give a damn about decorum. 

"I'll be back in a minute."

Less than a minute later Shaun was back into the room, opening his big hand under Loan's nose. A tiny freezer bag, containing a tiny amount of what could've easily been mistaken for flour or icing sugar.

"Your poison, Snow White."

Loan took the bag, observed it in the light of the bedside lamp as if he had any fucking clue about what he was doing. 

"That's 80£."

"80£??"

Shaun sighed "Jesus, you first timers are the worst. If you don't have the money I'm taking that back, also do I need to mention the house doesn't take credit cards nor cheques?"

"Fine." Loan glared at him shoving the bills into that greedy hand. Shaun hastily put the money inside his jeans' back pocket.

"Now do you wanna fuck?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said do you wanna fuck, like me and you."

"I-I'm not a whore."

"I know, that's why I'm asking you nicely."

Where the fuck was that guy coming from? Loan stared back at Shaun dead in the eye and saw he was serious. He tilted his head, pouted.

"Depends on what you have to offer."

In the blink of an eye Shaun pounced on him like a beast on its prey and before he knew it Loan was nailed to the bed, his face buried in the pillow. He could feel Shaun's hand pressing on his neck with a terrifying strength and he knew he could just snap it at any moment if he liked. He felt all his bulk lunging at his frail body as he leaned forward, until he was close enough so that Loan could feel the warmth of his breath against his ear.

"Just let me get this clear ; I don't have anything to offer. I'm gonna use you. I'm gonna take everything I want from you like it's my fucking birthday. And you're gonna love it even if in the end, you'll regret it, cause that's how it goes. You're probably gonna cry but it won't stop me. I'm not gonna give you my number, I'm not gonna give you a ride home, I'm not even gonna give you my name. Now if you're okay with that say yes." 

"Y-yes. Please." Loan panted. 

"Great." He said thoughtlessly before roughly pulling down Loan's jeans. 

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If you read this then it means you have vanquished this monster post, YAY! Here's a cookie to help you recover from that exhausting and traumatizing experience : 🍪

And ofc, special thanks to @ramblingpolkadots for the question! 😁 it was probably not the answer you expected but hey, it was fun to write this at least