#Edwin Luna

[yo-no-pienso-volver]

Márcame otra vez, me gusta oírte como lloras y me ruegas.

Márcame una y otra vez que me agrada saber que aún no me superas.

[wetfloor-sign09]

I don’t have words just noises

[sylveaugust]

I want to crossover Dead Boy Detectives with Hotel del Luna so bad… except i don’t have a good enough storyline for this😭

[digitalfountains]

Luna by Edwin Garcia

[fireflysparks]

Steffi, Ross, and Rose Sharpe: children of Edwin Sharpe and Luna (Dashwood) Sharpe.

[wandaxpietro]

[The Mighty Avengers #32]

[qualitystart]

Team Puerto Rico WBC practice (via: x, x, x)

[justdealingwithsomeissues]

So this story is actually from an Avengers book we haven't read yet, Avengers #350, but this story better sits before Infinity War kicks off so we are actually reading this first.

[yo-no-pienso-volver]

Márcame otra vez, me gusta oírte como lloras y me ruegas

Cómo me pides casi a gritos que contigo vuelva

[gameo-archive]

The gameo for Adele, in which this is suggested.

As suggested by George Rexstrew in one of his amazing Cameos: Charles and Edwin with Jayden’s and George’s dogs Luna and Raffy.

[frekkicreative]

hate

Gonna assume this is for the OC asks and not some random "hate" mail haha hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred? Zhiri hates the sound of the wind when it gets especially violent. She dislikes the unpredictability of it, but does her best to hide any fear or discomfort. The Balladier hates potatoes. Potatoes killed their family. Niamh hates to be called stupid. She considers herself quite clever, just different. And depending on who said it, she might try to get revenge by slipping them a bad potion or playing a mean prank on them. Fontaine doesn't hate dogs, but he's deathly afraid of them now. They can sense the dark magic within him and he's been attacked more than once. He does his best to avoid them and will tell people he doesn't like dogs if asked.

[digitalfountains]

Luna by Edwin Garcia

[zadzunny]

The 3rd video of A.I. gerard way covering a traditional Mexican song came on my fyp and I am dying how it this exactly my aesthetic in every single way

[lorastyrels]

Dead Boys with their real Dogs, Edwin with Raffy and Charles with Luna 🔍 🐶 ✨ A request from George Rexstrew himself

[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

Hello 👋

I have a Payneland prompt which I can't get my mind off of it at the moment. Charles and Edwin solving a case but due to a curse or spell, their body got swapped. And we got something like this.

Crystal and Niko didn't know what happened. Their first reaction was absolute confusion mixed with a bit of fascination.

Charles and Edwin got 2 days to break the spell (because we deserve to enjoy some good ol bodyswap shenanigans for a bit, as a treat).

Thank you so much in advance if you decide to adopt this prompt 🩷

LUNA thank you so much for this fantastic prompt!!! Given how frankly EMBARRASSINGLY long this has been cooking (three! whole! weeks! yikes), I wanted to give you the beginning of what I have, with the promise of more to come!!! xoxo

———

Charles gasps as he comes to.

Fuck, everything hurts.

He hisses, eyes squeezing further shut. He’s facedown on a cold floor, collar too tight and too stiff and shoes too much and clothes too thick and the world humming in a way he’s never heard before.

Somewhere to his left, an unfamiliar groan.

It all comes back to him: the client, the case, the research, the road, the gate, the door, the room, the burst—

“Edwin,” Charles rasps. His voice feels wrong in his throat. He cracks open his eyes and immediately snaps them shut. The light is blindingly bright, bright like the sun if the sun was less than ten feet away.

“Charles?”

Charles’s stomach drops. It’s not Edwin. The voice is just at the edge of familiar, the sort that doesn’t make him recoil, so he reaches for it, eyes still shut. His jacket rubs weirdly at his wrist.

“I’m here,” Charles answers, and his voice comes out familiar but wrong. Fingers brush his, and he grips them tight. Whoever it is, it’s another ghost.

“Charles? Is that you?”

“Yeah, course.” Charles forces himself up into a crouch, still holding onto the strange hand.

“Ah. Oh dear.”

Charles forces his eyes open. At first, all he can make out is the dark hair, red shirt, and black jacket. Details filter in slowly: a glinting earring, a gold necklace, a yellow pin.

“Oh,” he says.

He looks down.

“Well, shit.”

[edwinspaynes]

MINORS DNI, E-RATED FIC.

“I have been calling this sensation luna moths,” Edwin said. “Because they feel like a hundred beating wings at the core of my being.” “Wait. Hold on,” Charles said. “Do you not know the phrase ‘butterflies in the stomach?’ Edwin considered this. “That sounds like a godawful malady.” “It’s exactly what you’re describing! Edwin. Most people call them butterflies.” “Oh.” Edwin paused. “I prefer my descriptor. Luna moths are larger, and their wings are stronger; they have a distinct shape that would produce such a massive scale of sensation, and they glow during the midnight hours. I certainly feel as though I am lighting up with an electrical force.” Charles fiddled with Edwin’s fingers. “I like the sound of that better, too." - Or, a five-act study of Edwin learning to allow himself physical intimacy.

No taglist this time because I don't want to accidentally tag minors!