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[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

has anyone else ever had a fanfic that just... haunts them? like it's been months and maybe even years since you read it, but it just lingers with you and you can never truly leave behind the imprint it made on you? and maybe it's just a single line, one sentence that you can't shake off, that takes up residence in your mind and stays there, feeding into your psyche and subtly influencing your brainspace and maybe even your writing or other works?

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I love makin' you believe what you get is what you see But I'm so fake happy, I feel so fake happy...

Fake Happy - Paramore

Edit: Save Dead Boy Detectives petition

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some sketches of cat king's previous lives

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Just a cat being a lad, twice over

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“The puppy is new.”

Ink lineart of a third illustration for my Payneland fic Eight Seconds. In this scene, Charles for the first time invites Edwin to watch his parents together through a mirror.

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love the idea of the cat king changing vibes when hes in different incarnations, so heres 3 different designs! in my head i was calling them flirty, haughty, and romeo

🐈‍⬛ kofi link in bio if you’re feeling generous 🐈‍⬛

[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

I've seen a lot of really excellent analysis on Charles' reaction to Edwin's confession, but there's a huge aspect that I haven't seen talked about at all yet. And that is, namely:

Charles Rowland is a people-pleaser.

Doesn't seem like there's a connection there, does it? Have a seat, my friends. Let me break this down.

The show lays the groundwork for this aspect of Charles' personality early. It's one of the very first things we learn about him, in fact. He's kind and agreeable and helpful, and he's always, always smiling. When Crystal insults him, he laughs it off. When Crystal and Edwin fight, he scrambles to diffuse the situation. He calls himself "a good sort of a chap," and it's important to him that he is.

In episode 3, we find out why. At home, love was always conditional for him. He spent his entire life trying to please his father, and he confesses to Crystal that no matter how nice he was, or how good at sports, it was never enough. That's how Charles sees the world. If he can make people happy, he might actually be good enough for them to love him.

Not only didn't he earn his father's affection, he didn't even manage, in his own eyes, to clear the low bar of being good enough to earn the privilege of not being hurt. And his mother, he says, was "quiet." From the flashback we see, she never stepped in for him or defended him. However hard he was trying, it wasn't enough to get her to intervene on his behalf.

So who else does he have? His "friends"? The ones who literally murder him when he steps in to stop them from doing a terrible thing? The act he put on wasn't enough to win them over in the end, either. However friendly he was, however personable, they turned on him and left him for dead.

Then he meets Edwin.

And when he meets Edwin, he's at his absolute lowest. He's not smiling and putting on a show, for once. He's in a corner of an attic cowering while he slowly freezes to death. But here comes Edwin, offering him kindness, and company, and comfort.

All these things that Charles has spent his whole life chasing, trying to be good enough to earn? Edwin just gives them to him.

Of course he stays with this boy. Edwin is there when he's lost in the dark, shining a light to guide the way. Edwin has seen him unsmiling and afraid, not a shred of his usual act in place, and Edwin has offered him kindness anyway.

So they begin their time together. And what are the things Charles will pick up on almost immediately?

Edwin says right away that he's spent ages in hell. He's plainly had an awful time. He doesn't know how to handle people anymore, but Charles, he knows how to be amiable, how to smile, how to offer levity when things get grim.

So he does. He falls back into what he thinks Edwin needs, the way he always tried to be what his father wanted to see. In the very first episode, he tells Crystal, "I try to be extra happy for all of us, don't I? And I do a pretty good job."

He doesn't ever discuss his own trauma because these boys are terrible at communication, but more than that. He doesn't ever bring it up because he's busy being the support he thinks Edwin needs.

And importantly, Charles doesn't have the self-reflection skills to realize that's what he's doing. Crystal clocks him with shocking accuracy, three episodes in. "He's been hiding it from you," she tells Edwin. "Probably been hiding it from himself." She's spot-on here: when Charles doesn't want to examine his own emotions, or can't face them, he shoves them down under a smile and he carries on pretending.

But that's not the only thing Charles will have picked up on from Edwin.

It's blindingly obvious that Edwin is bad at people. He's terribly repressed. He's from a culture in which emotional honesty and physical affection were not valued or encouraged. But more than any of that, Edwin has his sexual awakening during the events of the show. Before then, he is absolutely clueless about his own wants.

So we have a situation where a consummate people-pleaser who has spent his entire life learning that he has to earn affection finds his way into a friendship with the first person who ever saw him with his mask down and gave him kindness anyway.

Of course he stays with this boy. Of course he wants to keep this.

And what's the best way Charles knows to win someone over? Well, by being what he thinks they want.

So, out come the smiles, for Edwin's sake as much as his own. But more importantly, out comes whatever Charles thinks he needs to perform, in order to keep what is the single most important relationship in his entire life and afterlife.

At this point, Edwin has shown zero romantic or sexual interest, not just in Charles, but in anyone at all. He doesn't especially seem inclined to dating, or to romance, or even to physical affection.

So Charles takes his cues from Edwin, and the cues are very firmly, for thirty years: this boy doesn't have a glimmer of interest in him, not that way.

Fast-forward to the events of the show. Fast-forward to a staircase in hell, where they are being chased by a literal demon. Suddenly his best mate, who he has spent thirty years with, who is his most important person in the world, is saying that he's in love with him.

Of course he needs a minute. Of course he has to sort that through. Any feelings he has for Edwin are things that he has spent literal decades firmly ignoring in the scramble to try and earn affection by being what he thinks Edwin needs him to be.

Because Charles is a people-pleaser at heart. And he may be dreadful at self-reflection, but he is aces at hiding things from himself.

[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

anyway have some urgently needed cuddles

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~ CUDDLE & SNUGGLE ~ PROMPTS

requested by: anonymous

Feel free to use and reblog!

limbs intertwined on the sofa

getting the greatest feeling of safety from cuddling

desperate hugs

lazy cuddles in the morning

burying face in their chest

trying to crawl under their shirt

falling asleep in each other's arms

mumbling unintelligibly into the embrace

caressing their back when holding each other

revelling in their body warmth

switching roles of big & little spoon

cuddles accompanied by little kisses

cuddles of consolation

cuddles after being touch-starved

squeezing them tightly

needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do

resting head in their lap

leaning against them

hugging them from behind

clinging to them

cuddles to make up for a loss of words

cuddles in bed

snuggling up to them when they're cold

cuddles of reassurance

pulling them closer into their arms

sitting on their lap & cuddling

tucking head into the crook of her neck while cuddling

feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling

putting ear over their heart

exchanging soft looks while cuddling

[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

I know it's used partly as a 'ah-ha! gotcha!' plot twist that the letter in episode 3 is actually for one of the girls to go to university, and not that stacey devlin was leaving brandon for another man, but i still appreciate that it's a subtle way of saying this man has not been wronged at all and is not deserving of a seconds moment of sympathy. i don't think someone cheating or leaving a relationship for another person constitutes a loophole for murder, just to be clear, but it is the type of thing that some people would use to victim blame and rationalise the actions of bad men, there are plenty of news reports that could provide supporting evidence for this. women and girls who turn a man down and then he goes on a killing spree and yet it's the woman exercising her autonomy that gets judged, no matter how subtly.

of course jenny has already made this point when getting asked about the murders earlier in the episode: who cares what his trigger was? it is never going to be something that could excuse or rationalise his actions so why even bother trying to work out his logic because it will never result in justice? the reason is meaningless to her, it will never change the fact that this was a man who murdered his family, nothing excuses that.

but then, it turns out that the letter isn't actually causing the loop either. the contents of the letter actually becomes rather irrelevant to solving the case. it comes down to the vhs recording of the murders captured on the cameras brandon devlin installed. he caused their deaths because he was a controlling prick who could not bear the thought of his daughters one day leaving his house, his control, and his surveillance. and he caused them to get stuck in a loop reliving that night for 30 years because he had previously set up hidden recording equipment that captured the trauma. he didn't know that was possible but nevertheless every part of the horrors these women have been stuck in has been caused by him. there is no way to excuse him spying on his family in their own home and everything that spirals from that sickening behaviour.

i just think it's important how this episode really emphasises that the actions of controlling and abusive people is what causes the pain and suffering. victims should not have to answer questions about how they set off their abuser because that is not something they can control and also is rarely a rational thing, abusers are not reasonable.

[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

Oh the agony of a tender touch.

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A Needlessly Long Analysis of Every Single Cat King Scene in Dead Boy Detectives and Why I Want to Throw Him.

After many, many rewatches of Dead Boy Detectives for the sake of trying to get another season, I've found myself with increasingly strong feelings about a certain feline so... Can we talk about the Cat King? Yes? Great. Forewarning, I'm about to absolutely ream this shapeshifter because he's complex, confusing, horrible, and has so much potential that I need to talk about it.

Introduction to the Madness ...

The Cat King is a wonderful antagonist for so many reasons, but I feel like a lot of people have forgotten that he's an extraordinarily flawed person and can be incredibly creepy at times. Lukas does a wonderful job portraying the Cat King's charm, as does George in portraying Edwin's brief moments of falling into his traps, but the Cat King is not a good person. Let's go down the list.

The Cat King's Introduction: Episode 2

Episode 2 starts off with the consequences of Edwin's rash actions in Episode 1, something that I'm fully here for. It gives Edwin's jealousy real weight outside of just causing tension between Crystal and Edwin. However, I think people forget that the Cat King's "punishment" is completely selfish. Yes, while he claims that it's a consequence for harming the other cats, the punishment doesn't actually reward the cat Edwin used magic on, instead only benefiting the Cat King himself.

The two options Edwin is presented with are sex and counting all the cats in Port Townsend. Option one is mildly horrific, even if Edwin is to consent it could still be considered coercive as the Cat King is in a position of power over Edwin. When Edwin is given the option of counting cats, he emphasizes that he is a "fair and consensual Cat King", which we'll get back to later, but the offer itself is still - essentially - a move on Edwin as it forces him to stay in the Cat King's vicinity for longer. The task itself is stupid, but it again doesn't benefit any of the cats besides the Cat King. The only reason Edwin's stay is prolonged is because the Cat King is fascinated by Edwin. That's it.

While this interaction does contribute to Edwin's eventual sexual awakening, that does not make the interaction itself good. And this dichotomy between the Cat King starring in Edwin's journey of self discovery but doing so in the literal worst way continues in Episode 4...

The Cat King and Exploiting Emotional Attachment: Episode 4

I'd like to point out that this interaction starts out with the Cat King scratching Edwin, something that he explains by referencing "rough play". Now, this is obviously a joke, but it still brings up issues with the continued lack of Edwin's consent in something that the Cat King frames as sexual. What really kills me about this scene though, is how the Cat King exploits Edwin's other crushes - or potential crushes - to get a reaction out of him. The funniest thing about this to me, is that the way that the Cat King shapeshifts into people that Edwin cares for ends up paralleling him to Angie, our monster of the week. Angie also exploits the emotional attachment of someone to their loved ones for personal gain, but in her case it's to actively seek out food. What separates the two to me, is that the Cat King does not need Edwin to care for him, nor does he need Edwin to survive, he just wants Edwin, therefore making him kind of worse that the monster that we go into this Episode trying to slay.

Again, this does end up assisting Edwin in his eventual realization that he likes Charles, but it's the entirely wrong way of going about it. The scene ends with me just feeling like Edwin got thrown around like a mouse by this cat in the middle of something that's genuinely important to him. And then the confession of why Edwin does the casework. Sweet Jesus. Yes, it's good that Edwin gets that truth out for the sake of the audience, but the knowledge that the Cat King gains out of it is chilling to me. It's another display of the power the Cat King holds over Edwin because while you can argue that he uses the binding spell on Edwin as payback for what happened to his cats, forcing the truth out of Edwin was nothing but for himself. I think he believes it's for Edwin's sake, to make him feel more comfortable sharing things now that the first hurdle has passed, but it... really doesn't? The way that this backfires really emphasizes the way that pushing Edwin's boundaries like this isn't a good way to gain his affection.

The last thing to point out in this specific interaction is the last couple of lines of the scene, specifically the way that the Cat King taunts Edwin about the cat count of 142 being "way off". We know this is a bluff because later, he confirms that there are 147 cats in Port Townsend, including himself of course. The irony to this scene in my opinion is the fact that the Cat King just said to Edwin that he wanted him to be more honest, and then immediately lies. The double standard is insane, and I can't tell if the Cat King realizes it or not.

Something I feel important to note as well is the way that Edwin, in the same episode, when asked if he'd like to kiss the Cat King answers painfully fast. Monty he at least considers, but the Cat King isn't even an option to him. To me, this just displays further how horrifically the Cat King has fucked up any chances of a meaningful relationship with Edwin.

The Cat King Becomes an Incel for a Hot Minute: Episode 6

Episode 6... Oh boy Episode 6. Episode 6 is hard because he doesn't stop being a boundary pusher, but it's also ever the more evident just how much this stupid cat cares about Edwin. I would love to defend him and be like "oh actions speak louder than words" but his actions STILL suck in this scene. So, let's break down those action one by one.

First off, he goes to the forest. That's a big one because he mentions that he's been looking for Edwin the entire night, seemingly for no other reason than to explain to him the situation with Monty being an essential double agent. The first bit of the interaction between the Cat King and Monty isn't much to note, in my opinion, because it's mostly just taunting. But, in this case, the taunting is kind of warranted. Though I personally empathize with Monty's situation, he is still leading Edwin into a trap that could kill him. Where the Cat King pushes boundaries again is the goddamn kiss. It feels... icky. Predatory.

Again, there's no consent in this situation, and though it all comes from a place of worrying for Edwin's safety, I'm not sure that excuses it. I will grant the Cat King the fact that he's extraordinarily honest with Edwin throughout the scene, exposing Monty's identity and the case without beating around the bush much. The way that the Cat King ends the interaction, because though I'm not exactly sure what to think about the Cat King's approval of Edwin lashing out at Monty, I know exactly what I think about what follows.

Edwin, rightly, immediately thinks to take the information he just learned to Crystal and Charles, the two people who could still be in danger because of this now pointless case. The Cat King takes this time to make yet another move instead of just... accepting the fact that he helped and that could build Edwin's trust later. The way the Cat King says "I believe I'm at least owed a little thank-you" threw me off the first time I watched it, but I accepted it. I suppose Edwin could have been more polite. And then the Cat King said "By the way, the second kiss is always much better."

Dude. What. So, to break this down, the Cat King comes out to help save Edwin from a potentially life threatening situation only because he believes that he will get a reward out of it. When Edwin refuses (rightfully so, what the fuck) the Cat King asserts his power again by saying that he's "not someone to be dismissed". Edwin's words are harsh when he states that the Cat King is nothing more than the chain linking him to Port Townsend, but I don't feel as though he's entirely wrong to be upset in this situation. The Cat King, instead of making me feel bad for him afterwards, goes full Nice Guy™ on Edwin afterwards by yelling at him that he'll stop playing nice. Instead of taking literally two seconds to introspect, he threatens Edwin like that's going to keep his stubborn ass from doing anything.

Hello? What happened to fair and consensual Cat King, dude? He's so out of touch with how to actually express his affection for someone, and it's honestly insane.

Alone: Episode 7

Episode 7 is the third to last time we see the Cat King, and it's the first time that he's not in the presence of Edwin. We see him be more vulnerable here, and get a better understanding of how he acts when he's cornered. He starts off haughty, continues his antics with innuendo to offset tension, and then continues to taunt Ester until he gets literally killed by her. After his death he expresses his fear through anger, and continues to attempt to defend Edwin. First by trying to remind her that he's not going to give her the youth she desires, then by telling her to "keep your paws off of him".

It's somewhat heart warming to know he does truly care for Edwin, but he's still in it for himself, ultimately. He doesn't attempt to go against Esther again out of fear that he'll die for it, and his values of his survival above else. It's great character building, and a great flaw, but again annoying that he only expresses this level of care without Edwin around.

Redemption?: Episode 8

Episode 8 is meant to be his, sort-of, redemption Episode in my opinion. He is vulnerable with Niko and Crystal in regards to his fear of Esther (kind of, he does confess that he was killed by her), gives them information on Esther's background, and also gives them a tip off on something that could help stop her - black salt.

After Niko's death, when he presents Edwin with flowers, I believe he is meant to be at his best. He does not demand anything from Edwin in that moment, only apologizes for the loss of Niko and compliments her bravery. It's interesting to note that the lilies that he gifts to Edwin are toxic to cats, potentially a symbol of his attempt to be less selfish when it comes to him. And that he doesn't ask for anything more from Edwin when he is given the kiss on the cheek.

Of course, he still maintains his bravado and teasing nature, but that - it seems - is meant to be the Cat King's redemption arc.

But... is it enough?

Is it Enough?: Conclusions

I don't think so, personally. I think that in a Season 2, the Cat King could've become a better, less selfish, person. But at the moment, I think he's still stuck in the same middle ground that Monty ends up in where the one good deed he does ends up being a small drop in the bullshit that comes before that. While I do think that Monty is ultimately more forgivable, there is still a lot that would need to happen to truly get both of them to a point where they can be forgiven by those they harmed (and me, tbh). The Cat King may have done better eventually, but he still never really apologized for his contributions to everything that happened in Port Townsend, or the bullshit that he did to Edwin personally.

All this to circle back around to this: Fuck Netflix for depriving us of Season 2 and potentially truly redeeming the Cat King and having him actually learn to care about Edwin in a way that doesn't push his boundaries immeasurably. And fuck Netflix for not giving me a chance to see the Cat King start to accept the fact that he is fucking lonely and does way too much to cover it up. I need him acknowledging his fuck ups, becoming a genuine protagonist and not just someone who could be good! He has so much potential to be more than a mere predator playing with his food and Netflix took that from us.

Tldr; Netflix is the real villain here, but the Cat King sure does a good job of trying to be the best, most complicated, most annoying, most horrifying antagonist.

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One of my favourite things about Edwin - if not my favourite thing about Edwin - is how unabashedly hopeful he is.

This kid has never caught a break once in his existence. He was kidnapped and sacrificed to a demon in a literal hate crime, and when he got out of Hell, he still believed that people could do good. He still believed that they were worth saving, that there was hope for humanity because good people existed, too.

And Hell. Don't get me started on how much hope it must have took to successfully escape, rolling with every unfathomably painful failed attempt and viewing them as learning experiences. How much hope he must have had for a better existence outside of Hell, how much faith he must have had in himself to continue with escape attempts until he finally found himself back on Earth.

I love Edwin Payne. I am so emotional about him.

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A thing I really love about Edwin, specifically in his queer journey, is that he does so many things for himself. He does an excellent job of centering himself in his experience and prioritizes getting to know himself and being authentic to his own feelings.

A glaring example? His confession to Charles. That must have been terrifying, and he knew there was a strong chance that he did not reciprocate his romantic sentiments. But he did it anyway, because accepting his romantic love for Charles and making it known was an important part of being true to himself. It was an important part of Charles's knowing him, and Edwin lives in a world where Charles has always known him like the back of his hand.

Edwin confesses to Charles for himself.

Another example? Edwin forgiving Simon. Yes, he wants to help Simon escape Hell; yes, he is a ridiculously good person. But more than that, he needs to empathize with someone who shared his love for men, and he needed to let go of the homophobia that destroyed his past. This was a way to do it. "If you punish yourself, everywhere becomes Hell" wasn't just Edwin helping Simon; it was Edwin acknowledging a truth that he had lived and could not overcome.

Edwin forgives Simon for himself.

And what about his last scene with The Cat King? He's actively leaving Port Townsend. He views this as a goodbye (though obviously it was not, but hey, no s2 to explore that.) So he flirts. He kisses the Cat King's cheek, to prove to himself that he can. He does it because he wants to, and in doing so accepts that it is okay to want.

Edwin flirts with the Cat King for himself.

Edwin accepts and embraces himself intrinsically over the course of the season, not just externally. I love that.

[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

Chapter One of young blood (never get chained) previously known as the demon!Charles AU that I've been picking away at since May, is up!

Pairings: Payneland with background Palasaki

Rating: E for eventual smut

Warnings: Canon-typical violence; past child abuse

Summary: When Charles, a half-demon student at St. Hilarion’s University, steps in to stop one of his classmates from getting sacrificed to a demon, he accidentally binds Edwin’s soul to his own to save him.

You can read the first scene below or here on AO3!

***

Charles is leaving the library when he feels the presence of another demon close by. It’s the prickle of awareness on the back of his neck, the slight taste of sulfur on his tongue, the sense that if he looks up at the gabled roof of Payne Library, he’ll see burning red eyes staring down at him.

He goes still on the steps of the library, backpack thrown over his shoulder and thumb hovering over the screen of his phone, halfway through a text to Crystal and Niko telling them he’s on his way home. Chancing a glance upwards, he sees that the roof of the library is free of demonic presences, but the taste of sulfur only grows stronger in his mouth. Whatever’s happening, it’s close by.

It’s just before midnight on a damp, chilly Thursday and the campus of St. Hilarion’s University is quiet. There was a smattering of other students in the library and he can see a couple of late-night pedestrians making their way home, but there are no visible signs that anything is amiss. Most of St. H’s students are probably home in their dorms or flats, windows and doors closed against the weather. It’s where Charles would be, if a need to escape all distractions hadn’t driven him to the library to finish a paper.

Without finishing the text to Crystal, he pockets his phone and reaches into the backpack, silently calling to the cricket bat. It springs from the infinite void, the smooth wooden handle finding his hand. He’d rather head home to order some late-night takeout and watch a bad movie with Crystal, but if there’s trouble on campus, especially of the demonic sort, that’s his problem to handle.

On a hunch, he turns left, heading past the dining hall and the science building in the direction of Broderick Hall. The oldest dorm on campus has been closed for renovations the entire time Charles has attended St. H’s, making it a prime location for illicit parties, hook ups, and evil lairs. Sure enough, the rotten taste in his mouth grows stronger as he approaches.

The side door hangs ajar, the lock broken, and Charles pushes his way inside. He twirls the cricket bat in his hand nervously. Hopefully, he’ll just have to give the interloper a friendly reminder that St. Hilarion’s is his turf and that the students here aren’t easy pickings. In his experience, demons usually respond to friendly reminders by trying to flay him alive, but it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before.

From below, there’s a muffled scream. Charles follows the sound, descending the stairs into the basement.

The basement of Broderick Hall has become a graveyard of twin beds, dressers, and desks while the dormitories upstairs are renovated. It’s dimly lit, with only the faint glow of streetlamps filtering through the small, dusty windows and a beam of light on the other side of the basement. Moving carefully so as not to trip over a desk chair and give himself away, Charles weaves through the furniture towards the beam of light, which moves erratically, bouncing off the ceiling and damp brick walls.

There’s another scream, followed by cruel laughter, just as Charles rounds a corner and spots his quarry. It’s not the demon he was expecting, but six figures, all of whom seem human. Five of them are gathered in a circle around one of the twin beds, where the sixth person is stretched out, wrists and ankles bound to the headboard and footboard. From the muffled shouting, he can guess they didn’t sign up for this.

Charles spots the source of the light: a long, industrial flashlight held by one of the figures over a thick, leather-bound book in his neighbor’s hand. In the glow of the flashlight, Charles recognizes the one holding the book. Simon Mould: school football player, son of one of the richest men in Britain, and complete fucking twat. Which means that his companions must be the pack of idiot footballers who are always following him around. What the fuck are they doing down here?

“We call upon the demon Sa’al,” Simon says, smirking down at the bound figure as his friends laugh and catcall. “We offer up this little prat as a virgin sacrifice.”

Fucking hell.

The taste of sulfur is choking him and Charles knows it’s already too late to stop the summoning, but he surges forward anyway. The boys don’t notice him until he’s upon them, bringing down the cricket bat on the grimoire in Simon’s hands with all his might. Simon shrieks in surprise, the book falling to the ground.

“What the fuck is this?” Charles shouts, his voice echoing around the room. Maybe if he kicks up enough of a fuss, whatever they summoned will decide it’s not worth it and fuck off back to Hell.

“Shit!” Simon scrambles backwards. “ Rowland ? What the fuck are you doing here?”

Charles kicks the grimoire away. “Where did you find this?”

“Got it from my brother! We were just trying to—”

“I know what you were trying to do. Now get out of here.”

“Oi.” The one with the flashlight, who stands a head taller than Charles and is built like a brick wall, crowds into his space. “We were just having a bit of fun with the little bitch. No harm done. He might piss his pants, but he’ll live.”

That gets another mean laugh from the group.

“Don’t think he agrees with you, does he?” Charles glances back at the sacrifice, who is still fighting his bonds, hands twisting helplessly. Maybe if it weren’t for the rage thrumming through him and the taste of sulfur on his tongue, he would try the diplomatic approach. But he’s not feeling real diplomatic, not when there’s cruel laughter echoing in the air and a terrified boy tied to a bed behind him.

“What the fuck do you care?” Simon demands. “This isn’t any of your fucking business, Rowland.”

“Nah.” Charles bares his teeth into a smile. “I think I’ve made it my fucking business.”

The one with the flashlight doesn’t wait for Simon to reply. He lunges forward, flashlight raised like a club, and Charles moves. He dances to the side, dodging the blow, and brings his cricket bat down hard on his attacker’s arm. The brick wall of a boy shrieks and drops the flashlight, which clatters to the ground. As he bends to retrieve it, Charles hits him in the back of the knees, knocking his legs out from under him. He folds, wailing.

Someone—Simon—grabs him by the arm and Charles sinks his fist into his stomach hard enough to send him stumbling backwards, crashing into one of the desks, which splinters under his weight. Another boy lunges at him and Charles brings his bat up between his legs, eliciting a satisfying shriek.

“Come on.” Charles twirls his bat, waiting for the next attacker. He both loves and hates the rage that thrums through him and how powerful it makes him feel. He feels like he could take apart this entire fucking building brick by brick with his bare hands. He feels like he could dropkick these twats into the sun. He feels like nothing can stop him, like he could keep fighting until the end of time. Later, he knows it will be terrifying. Right now, it’s exhilarating.

Simon makes an aborted movement towards the grimoire on the ground, pausing when Charles rests his cricket bat on it. He looks up at Charles with what he probably thinks is a menacing expression. It would be more intimidating if he weren’t clutching his stomach, looking like he’s about to be sick.

“Get the fuck out.” The rage is thrumming under Charles’s skin, telling him to attack, to swing his bat and keep on swinging until they stop moving. “Go.”

Some scrap of prey instinct must alert the five of them that they’re in the presence of something bigger than they can comprehend, because they turn tail and run, the boy Charles hit in the balls being supported by his two friends. Simon is the last to flee, shouting, “Fuck off, Rowland!” over his shoulder. None of them will ever know that Charles just saved their sorry lives.

Charles turns to the sacrifice, who has gone still, head turned away so that his face is hidden. He’s only wearing a thin t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants, his feet bare and his body wracked with tremors. His attackers must have dragged him out of bed.

Charles breathes until he no longer feels the wrath bubbling under his skin, then steps forward to reach for the ropes around the sacrifice’s ankles. The boy flinches like he’s expecting a blow.

“It’s okay, mate,” Charles says softly, but his attempt at comfort gets no reaction. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Upstairs, there’s a shout and a clatter. Charles’s head jerks up, expecting shrieks of agony to follow. Instead, there’s another shout and a door slams. Simon and his dipshits, at least, are out of harm’s way.

The would-be sacrifice screams.

Charles knows what he’s going to see before he turns around. The demon—a lower demon with gray, mottled skin and empty eyes, probably pressed into service as an errand boy—looks down at the sacrifice with a disgruntled expression, like he can't believe he had to make the trip from Hell for this. For his part, the boy is screaming into his gag. Most of it is muffled, but Charles gets the gist: lots of no’s and please’s and leave me alone’s. Charles could’ve told him that begging a demon for mercy is pointless; they aren’t creatures that respond to pleas and tears.

What they respond to is brute force.

Brandishing the bat, Charles steps between the sacrifice and the demon. “Sorry, mate,” he says. “But there’s nothing for you here.”

“Little brother, you know the rules.” The demon has a raspy, but almost pleasant voice. “He was sacrificed to Sa’al. Now I’ve got to take him to Hell.”

The sacrifice whimpers.

“Right,” Charles says. “But see, the problem is that St. Hilarion’s is my territory. The souls here aren’t anyone else’s to give away.”

Crystal helped him conduct the ritual after the incident with the poltergeist in the dining hall last term. He doesn’t know if it will be considered legally binding in Hell, but the incidents of supernatural chaos on campus have sharply declined since he put his blood into the soil and declared this place his.

“Your territory.” The demon regards him with those empty eyes.

Charles nods. “So I can’t just let you walk off with one of my souls, can I? There are rules against that.”

“And what would you need with a university full of souls?”

“That’s my business.” Charles hopes he projects the air of someone who absolutely has a nefarious plan for a university campus’s worth of souls and isn’t just pulling all of this out of his ass.

The demon moves closer. “Your territory or not, this one was offered as a sacrifice. You can request compensation later, but in the meantime, the kid’s life is Sa’al’s.”

The sacrifice makes a choked-off, gasping noise and Charles can’t help but glance over his shoulder, hoping to silently convey that everything will be alright. For the first time, he finds the sacrifice staring back at him, eyes enormous in an ashen face, and realizes that he recognizes him.

He and Edwin Payne lived in the same hall their first term at St. Hilarion’s. Edwin was the quiet, standoffish sort who never came to social events and always seemed to have his nose buried in a book. A couple of times, Charles tried to strike up a conversation, but Edwin had always seemed perplexed that anyone would want to make small talk about football or music when there were books to be read.

But Charles used to watch him sometimes when he saw him in the library or the dining hall, observing the way his lips would curl into a little smile while he read or the graceful way his hands moved when he spoke. All he knew about him were things he had gleaned from gossip in their hall—the Payne Library was named after his family, he had an uncle or a grandfather or something in Parliament, his parents were both barristers—but he’d always found him oddly fascinating.

Maybe Charles would have tried to befriend him in earnest at some point, but then he’d met Crystal and the demon possessing her, and then there had been the incident with Niko and the dandelion sprites only a couple of months later. When the dust from all that had settled, the term had been over and Charles had been moving into Crystal’s house with her and Niko.

He’s only seen Edwin in passing around campus over the last couple of years and hasn’t thought about him much at all. But here he is, tied to a bed and watching two demons debate the ownership of his soul like it’s the last biscuit at a tea party. He’s not screaming anymore, but his chest rises and falls with quick, panicked breaths and his wrists twist uselessly against the ropes binding him to the headboard.

“Tell Sa’al that Edwin Payne’s soul is mine,” Charles says, not taking his gaze off those wide eyes. “It’s bound to me and it’s no one else’s to take.”

It’s not the involved blood ritual that had taken him and Crystal the better part of a month to perfect when he claimed St. H’s as his territory. He doesn’t expect it to do anything except stall the demon while he figures out a way to get Edwin Payne out of this cellar with his soul intact. Except, as soon as he says the words, he feels something in the air shift. A current of something old and powerful seems to surge around him, making every nerve in his body spark.

He’s suddenly aware of sickening terror, betrayal, confusion, desperation. None of it is his own; its source is shivering in a bed less than a meter away.

Well, fuck.

“For fuck’s sake.” The demon pinches the bridge of his nose in a gesture that’s startlingly human. “This is above my fucking paygrade. Kid, you’re making a real nasty enemy. Sa’al won’t take kindly to the likes of you depriving him of what’s rightfully his.”

Charles has no idea who Sa’al is, but really hopes he’s just a measly lower demon, like the piece of shit who possessed Crystal two years ago. Someone who will be easy to deal with when he inevitably comes calling.

“But if you want to piss off an archduke of Hell over a single human soul, that’s your business.” The demon steps back, hands raised.

“An archduke?” To his mortification, Charles’s voice cracks like he’s fourteen.

The demon shoots him a knowing look. “I’ll leave you to your prize.” He glances at Edwin and shakes his head like he can’t comprehend all this fuss over one human soul. Turning, he vanishes into the shadows as quickly as he appeared. The taste of sulfur dies on Charles’s tongue as the oppressive feeling of menace ebbs away.

The cellar is silent except for Edwin Payne’s raspy breathing. Charles can feel the fear and uncertainty radiating off of him, hanging in the air as heavily as the taste of sulfur did.

“He’s gone.” Charles keeps his movements slow and measured as he reaches for the scarf tied around Edwin’s head, gagging him. “Everything’s alright now, yeah? You're safe.”

There are tear tracks on Edwin’s cheeks and when Charles pulls the scarf away, he sees that the corners of his mouth are puffy and red. Edwin’s tongue flicks out, prodding at the irritated skin, before he rasps, “What the bloody hell was that?”

Charles busies himself with untying his wrists. He has no idea how to answer that, because there's no easy way to explain the existence of the supernatural to a human. Crystal, a psychic, already knew about the existence of the paranormal before she was possessed by her demon boyfriend. Niko took learning there were dandelion sprites living in her head with unusual aplomb; she even keeps the little terrors in the room she shares with Crystal, much to Crystal’s dismay. Something tells Charles that Edwin won’t be so open-minded.

“Well,” he says slowly as he starts to untie the ropes around Edwin’s ankles. “Your friends accidentally summoned a demon. At least I think it was an accident, because if it was a genuine attempt at a ritual, they did a shit job. Didn’t even bother with a binding circle, did they?”

“Of course they didn’t,” Edwin says disdainfully, like sloppy spellwork was tonight’s biggest offense.

“Right,” Charles says. “Anyway, demons exist—”

“Yes, I gathered that, given one just tried to take me to Hell.” Edwin’s voice stays even as he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. The spike of anxiety Charles feels in his own chest is the only sign that he's shaken. Maybe Edwin Payne will be more open-minded than Charles assumed. “And who exactly are you?”

Charles lets the ropes fall to the ground and holds his hand out to shake. “Charles Rowland. I lived two rooms down from you in Warren Hall.”

“I remember you.” Edwin hesitates, then takes Charles’s hand. His fingers are long and cool in Charles’s grasp. “But I don’t remember you scaring off demons with a cricket bat.”

Charles thinks Edwin might be giving him and his bat too much credit. He pulls Edwin to his feet. “That doesn’t happen as often as you’d think.”

“You haven’t answered my question.” Edwin pulls his hand from Charles’s grasp, trepidation radiating from him. “ Who are you?”

Charles looks around the darkened basement. “It’s a long story, mate. We should walk and talk, yeah? That demon is going to go straight to Sa’al and I’d rather not be here if he decides to come up from Hell himself to see what happened to his human sacrifice.”

Edwin’s throat clicks audibly as he swallows. “No,” he says faintly. “I’d rather not be here either.”

Charles picks up the discarded grimoire and tosses it in his backpack. He can’t just leave it lying around for anyone to find. “Come on, then. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

***

You can read the rest here on AO3!

[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

Drawing my blorbos miserable as I listen to the debate. I wish london was a real place…