#carpenoctuum

[lylebolton]

"So who exactly ARE you, big guy?" -Meister

“The chief of security here at Arkham and you’ll do well to remember that you talent show reject.”

[pushspacetocontinue]

@carpenoctuum replied to your post: 

   “There’s no such thing as being proud of a child back home. They either succeed or they don’t… and I didn’t. Going back would mean they won, but sometimes I’d rather live a loser there than someone here.”

“That’s sad, man. I mean, I know you probably didn’t know different, but as an observer on the outside, I find that sad, ehehe...” he said, frowning, “I know how that feels, kinda... a lotta humans feel like they don’t belong in this world either.”

Sympathy knotted his face as he spoke.

“You really miss them, huh?” he said, “I’m sorry... we’ll work something out. I’m sure we can. If there’s anything us humans have always been good at, it’s working out something.” 

[riddleculed]

❤ -Give me that sweet Scriddler

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME - Send my character a ❤ and I’ll fill in the form of what my character would do with yours.

BOLD YOUR CHOICES

Affectionate; Holding hands | Cheek kisses | Hugs from behind | Cuddling | Hand kiss | PDA | Spooning | Shared baths | Whispers | Affectionate texts | Caressing | Stroke hair | No displays of affection

Sex; Shower sex | Wall sex | Neck bites | Oral | Morning sex | Drunk sex | Public sex | Backseat of car | BDSM | No sex

Dates;Picnic | Cinema | Restaurant | Sports game | Hike | Coffee | Museum | Club | Bar | Beach | No dates

Would my character…

Marry them? Yes | No | EW MARRIAGE Have sex on the first date? Yes | NoConfess their attraction first? Yes | No Have children/adopt? Yes | No Die for your character? Yes | No Cheat on your character? Yes | No Lie to them? Yes | No Cuddle after sex? Yes | No

[quinaed-archivell]

          en  un  entonces no  muy  alejado del  presente,  los  payasos  contaban con  la  ayuda  del  señor  sonrisas;  quizá  era  el  señor  sonrisas número  cuatro  ya,  pero  a  diferencia  de  los  anteriores señores  sonrisas,  éste  señor  sonrisas  nunca  creció  más  del  metro  treinta  de  estatura,  y  eso  lo  hacía  el  mejor  señor  sonrisas,  ¿saben  por  qué? halloween  era  esa  misma  noche. todos  los  demás  payasos  bajo  el  cuidado del  señor  j  eran  demasiado altos,  así  que  el  señor  sonrisas  cargaba con  una  tarea  especial:  tomó  tiempo  y  paciencia…  bastante de  ambas  ya  que  el  pequeñín  no  dejaba  de  revolotearse  en  su  asiento, ¡tanto  que  tuvo  que  ser  atado!  pero al  final  se  logró  el  objetivo,  y  el  señor  sonrisas  lució  los  adentros de  su  propia piel  como  nadie  nunca.  desollarlo y  cocerlo  de  vuelta  fue  un  poco  tardío,  pero  la  reacción de  los  vecinos lo  valió  todo.  por  supuesto, el  señor  sonrisas murió  por  dolor  y  desangramiento,  pero  el  señor  j  es  un  genio  y  pidió  prestados  al  señor  ventrílocuo algunas  cuerdas  y  ¡voilà!  toda  la  noche  fue  una  compilación de  “veamos  quién  está  bajo  esa  máscara, dulzura”  seguida  de  gritos… 

     ‘  ¿…  y  usted  qué  tiene  planeado para  halloween,  profesor  crane?  ’

@carpenoctuum ↷ 🤡

[zehypocriticaloath]

“ you’re clearly exhausted. why are you doing this to yourself? “ -JJ

“Because, clearly, I want to crash and burn and make sure my fucking mind goes before anything else.”

Aldous tried to stifle a yawn. He hadn’t really been sleeping lately. He’d gotten back on the bad habit of sleeping little… or not sleeping at all. Staying awake for a few days, binging on some strange experiment just to keep him up, only to crash for an entire day.

The dark rings under his eyes spoke volumes of his fatigue.

“You should know me by now, J.J.” His cruel mouth twisted up into a crooked grin. “I’m so damn stubborn.”

[comiisario]

@carpenoctuum !! ( JON )

ya era bastante extraño que un desconocido se le acercase con tanta confianza; normalmente un criminal no se atrevería a ello con la reputación que ya tiene gordon, pero eso no lo detiene de mostrar una pequeña sonrisa después de los pocos segundos que tomó al otro acomodarse en su asiento frente a jim.

“ hola ? ... lo siento, tengo mala memoria. nos conocemos de algún lado ? ”

[babydxhl]

‘  i’m always heavily, heavily medicated.  ’ -Jon, probably at Arkham

SHARP OBJECTS STARTERS || ACCEPTING TIL DEATH

“Aren’t we all?” There’s a nicotine patch just above Mary’selbow; as she turns her head to look at Jon in the cell opposite, the fingers ofone hand pick at it absently. That’s nice of them, she supposes, but perhaps it’sjust a ploy to keep her from hiding cigarettes in the lining of her pillowcase.

No, on second thought, it might just be to keep her frombitching.

She leans forward a little towards the glass, towards thesquealing of trolley wheels and the shuffle of nurse’s shoes. “Room service,”she coos cheerfully. As the nurse in question – flanked by an orderly, lest thenasty patients try anything – finallymakes it into her line of sight, she’s rewarded with a scowl.

Three pills in a paper cup make it through the transfershelf by the door, accompanied by another cup of water. Mary takes them one byone, opening her mouth after each swallow – lookhere, proof. As the cart continues up the cell block, she watches them gosilently. Shooting Jon a smile, she pokes her tongue out from between her teethto reveal the lone pill stuck there.

“Don’t have to be.”

[babydxhl]

‘  you were born with it, that cold nature.  ’ -Meister

SHARP OBJECTS STARTERS || ACCEPTING TIL DEATH

There’s a beat of silence – Mary’s face is guarded, one handholding the doorframe so tightly her knuckles have gone white. It’s the onlysign of the thunderous rage rumbling just beneath the surface. Her gaze skimsthe photos spread across the coffee table, the box turned over on its side byone of the couches.

Staged, every last one – she remembers the feel of a combscraping across her scalp, a sharp pinch just above her elbow from manicurednails. Louisa Dahl looks immaculate. She always did.

“Maybe it’s just genetics,” she says coolly. She catchessight of the picture in Meister’s hand and her lips purse; the lone candid shotamong them, Mary’s sharp, pinched expression standing out stark in black andwhite. There, Louisa with one to match. Marlon Dahl’s face is turned away fromthe shot, a man cowed.

She had been about nine then, poked and prodded to death. Grow, grow, grow— Her upper lip curls indisgust.  

“He sent them yesterday. Burn them for me, why don’t you, ifyou’re taking the time to go through mymail.”