#I really want to make one of Charles and Crystal

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

2024 Writing Year in Review

tagged by @nix-nihili, thank you darling <3 this is gonna get long, buckle in!

January

the radiant university: the radiant emperor duology, ma/zhu, ouyang/esen

five people. five conversations. who will win this episode of the radiant university? (spoiler: it's wang baoxiang. everyone else is too busy making out.)

May

the ghost of the past that you live in: dead boy detectives, payneland

It didn’t start as much. As anything, really. Charles noticed him in the hallways only because he was new, which was rare in Year 11, and because he smiled shyly whenever Charles said hi. Aysar, he’d introduced himself, and Charles liked the way the syllables formed in his mouth. He wanted to be Aysar’s friend. Or: Five boys Charles didn't date, and one he did.

June

2 dead 2 boys: dead boy detectives, cryland, payneland, palasaki

It had been pretty obvious to Crystal from the start: their closeness and comfort with each other, the way they moved in sync, the way Edwin couldn’t quite contain his jealousy at Charles’ interest in her. She’d seen it before (where?), a relationship that one person wanted open and the other didn’t but would go along with, out of love. Ah, lack of communication. The enemy of polyamory. Or: Crystal comes to the horrifying realization that these boys are not dating, and leads them to enlightenment (polyamory).

take your chances (win or lose her): dead boy detectives, payneland, palasaki, charles & his mum

His dad was sitting in the living room – Charles ignored the instinct screaming at him to move away from Edwin – with his head in his hands. His mum wasn’t visible. It shouldn’t have been strange. Charles had seen both of them alone, at times, though rarely now as age caught up with them. But he and Edwin had been in the business too long to ignore bad feelings. They exchanged a glance, Edwin’s eyebrows beginning to furrow, and then Charles’ dad shifted, and bright morning light caught on his red, red knuckles. Or: Maybe Charles’ death was the wake-up call his dad needed to become a better man. Then again, maybe it wasn’t.

touch my tears with your lips (touch my world with your fingertips): dead boy detectives, payneland

Over the years, their music collection grew, until a shelf for their records joined the shelves for their books. Edwin was proud to say that the acquisition of the record player had made their office more lively, ghosts though they were. He certainly enjoyed their dancing lessons. If Edwin noted Charles’ quiet singing during this time, it was only to classify Charles as having enough musical talent to not clash horribly with the original singers’ voices. Some decades later, Edwin discovered the magnitude of his error. Or: Charles attempts to woo Edwin with the power of Queen.

July

if i could reach the stars (i’d give them all to you): dead boy detectives, payneland, palasaki

Loving Edwin was the easiest thing in the world. Charles got so used to it that he could sometimes go months without thinking about it, until Edwin did something kind or charming or literally just stood there catching the light in exactly the right way, and it would hit Charles all over again, like getting socked in the face. It certainly made for some interesting decades together. Or: Charles falls first. Edwin falls harder. Surprisingly little changes.

August

acu (aysar cinematic universe): dead boy detectives, payneland, palasaki

“Welcome to the Dead Boy Detective Agency, I am Edwin Payne. My partner should be returning shortly. Why don’t you tell me about your case?” “Yes, of course,” said the client, perfectly politely. “I am seeking justice. It was an incident that has haunted me, if you will excuse my wording, for years.” A pause. “I want justice for –” “Charles Rowland, hi!” said Charles, already wincing at his own timing. He hadn’t realised the ghost was winding up to the big reveal. Whoops. Or: A ghost from the past comes knocking. Charles gets justice; Edwin gets a hint.

September

(don't you) forget about me: dead boy detectives, payneland

Edwin returned to the envelope, from which his attention should never have veered, and opened it with a single, precise cut. The letter opener was returned to Charles – another brief, searing touch – as Edwin carefully removed and unfolded the glossy paper. The crest in the letterhead, a bloody wound against the white background, immediately caught his eye. “St. Hil’s, innit?” Charles, leaning over Edwin’s shoulder, confirmed what they both knew. They exchanged a dark, speaking glance. No, neither of them had fond memories of that place. Or: Edwin attends his high school reunion and is very normal about his (legal) partner.

(black is the colour) of my true love's hair: dead boy detectives, payneland

“Edwin,” Charles said, one splendid morning. “D’you notice anything different? About me?” With his face angled towards the window, Charles was lovingly lit by the morning sun, caught as it was on his forehead and cheeks and chin, limning the straight line of his nose and pooling in the depths of his dark eyes, lingering on his lips as if in a kiss. Beyond the light: the curve of his ear, his rather exquisite jawline, the glint of his earring and necklace, his bare shoulders, lean and strong, the curls of his hair just brushing them – Or: The boys spend a morning in the office; Charles has a lightbulb moment.

lovesick girls: dead boy detectives, palasaki

The thing was, the boys might tease Crystal about taking long to get ready, but she didn’t, not really. And the few times she did, she’d let you know beforehand. Niko checked her phone again. No new messages. A thought drifted into her mind like a dark cloud over the sun, taking all the brightness and warmth of the day with it. Crystal had told them stories from before she lost her memories, of the horrible things she’d done to friends and strangers alike. (To warn them off, Niko and Edwin privately thought.) What if one such thing was asking out some loser, only to stand them up and go laugh behind their backs with some friends? What if it’d been a joke all along? Or: Niko doesn’t quite get the first date she was expecting.

October

nectar, affection, truth: dead boy detectives, palasaki

if a girl looked at me like That i would simply perish Or: Art of the Look™ from episode 8.

it was only a (demonic) kiss: dead boy detectives, palasaki

“I need to talk…” Crystal took a deep breath and continued, “…to the thing inside Niko. The demon. I have a really attractive offer.” The demon forced Niko upright in jerky, unnatural movements, the fully black sclera only adding to the horror movie effect. Nothing at all like Niko’s sweet brown eyes. Crystal fought back a shiver. “You’ve got nothing I want, sweetheart. I just need to read one pesky little book, and then I’ll be on my way! So stay out of it.” Or: A newly sprite-free Crystal will do whatever it takes to save a victim of demonic possession: her neighbor, Niko Sasaki.

(if you cut me) i'll bleed pink: dead boy detectives, palasaki

Crystal was just opening her locker, the first time she saw her. The most beautiful girl in the world, probably, all shiny black hair and wide eyes, a cute outfit and an even cuter smile. Crystal could swear that when their eyes met, the world lit up with stars and hearts and bright pink light. She couldn’t look away. Or: Crystal meets someone new at the high school her parents shipped her off to.

can't see the stars for clouds: dead boy detectives, palasaki

“So, what do you do around here?” Niko asked, when all the introductions had been handled, and she and the cloud goddess – Crystal, a pretty name for a pretty goddess – stood just within sight of Edwin and his sun god suitor. After all, being chosen as a chaperone for this celestial courting was the highest honor imaginable – unless you were the moon god’s best, and maybe only, friend. Or not anymore, by the look of Charles’ easy smile and the loosening line of Edwin’s shoulders, visible even through the veil. Niko sure hoped so. It would be nice for Edwin to get a friend out of this union, at the very least. She hoped for more, but then, she’d always been a romantic. Or: The star and cloud goddesses must chaperone the courting sun and moon gods. However shall they pass the time?

when you see the flashing of the lights (remember you're in love tonight): dead boy detectives, palasaki

“I’m… I’m right across the hall,” Crystal said, not quite sure where she was going with this, only that she wanted this girl to keep looking at her. Forever. “If you…” “I like your jacket!” the girl interrupted, and slammed the door in her face. Crystal blinked a couple of times, quickly, and it was only around the tenth one that she realized the world had changed. It appeared… warmer, almost. The lights looked different from the walls looked different from Charles’ shirt as he asked, “What are you doing?” Or: Seeing your soulmate makes the world gain color. So do the dandelion sprites. What could possibly go wrong?

grinning from ear to ear in purple lace: dead boy detectives, palasaki

Every manga Niko read, every movie she watched, the smutty fanfiction she’d devoured from what was a probably too young age – all of them said the same thing: sex was a serious thing. You had to be amazing at it, even if it was your first time. You had to know exactly what your partner wanted. You had to look hot the whole time. You were not supposed to laugh during it. Or: Niko and Crystal’s first time.

it'll seem more like a song (when you pull on my hair): dead boy detectives, payneland

The implications of Charles putting up a ‘Closed’ sign took a slow, syrupy second to filter through. Charles had planned this. Impetuous, spur-of-the-moment Charles had planned this. At the same time, from his position mouthing at Edwin’s clavicle, Charles murmured, “Can I try something new?” Or: Edwin and Charles have some fun with his long hair.

memories decay into these stories: dead boy detectives, payneland

“Everyone has a place. Don’t you want to know what yours is? It might be wonderful,” the Night Nurse told Charles, her voice soothing as a lullaby. Charles faltered at the Night Nurse’s words. His shoulders loosened; his cricket bat descended out of its ready position. Stood behind him, Edwin could not see his expression, but he could imagine it well enough: a slack expression, morphing slowly into wide-eyed wonder. Charles took a dazed step toward her. And, in the single most selfish act of his entire existence – Edwin darted after him, clutching handfuls of his coat, and tried to hold Charles back. Or: The Night Nurse says a little less. Edwin does a little more. They all deal with the consequences.

(call me baby) run his hands through my hair: dead boy detectives, payneland, palasaki

It had been quite some time since Charles and Niko, armed with a truly astonishing amount of clothing, disappeared into the office’s spare bedroom. Only their murmurs and the occasional bright peals of laughter were audible through the walls, providing no hint as to what they were doing. Edwin and Crystal had been relegated to the main office to ward away any would-be clients on the agency’s official day off. Or: Charles gets a makeover! Edwin gets a makeover! Everybody gets a makeover!

we would be so good (if we were given the chance): dead boy detectives, payneland

“Kinda makes you want to write your own poetry, doesn’t it?” It was a split-second of an expression – a sideways flash of the eyes, a tinge of colour in the cheeks – before Edwin said, composed as always, “Indeed. But that is a task best left to the professionals, I believe.” Anyone else would have missed it. But Charles wasn’t in the habit of missing things, not when it came to Edwin. “Wait,” he said slowly, and Edwin’s eyes were already closing in defeat. “Have you – You’ve written poetry?” Or: Charles, Edwin, and poetry.

November

love's so strange (so real in the dark): dead boy detectives, payneland

To illustrate his point, he gave Charles’ necklace a sharp tug. Charles did not answer the question, because Charles’ eyes were slipping shut and his lips were parting around a pretty gasp, the necklace slackening under Edwin’s finger as Charles followed the motion down – “Charles…” Edwin whispered, and it was not quite a question and not quite a warning. If he were to be brutally honest with himself – something he rarely allowed – it was simply to feel the shape of it in his mouth. “Tell me to stop,” Charles said at last, breaking the charged silence between them. His voice was hoarse. Edwin swallowed with difficulty. Charles’ eyes dipped down, and his ridiculously long lashes accenting the motion, until there could be no doubt that he was staring at Edwin’s mouth. “Tell me to stop, and I will.” Or: In another universe, the doorbell doesn’t ring.

take the ribbon from your hair (shake it loose, let it fall): dead boy detectives, payneland

In mere hours, Charles would tie his hair back, out of the way of their work. Sometimes he missed a strand, which would then frame his face most fetchingly. Terribly tempting, that one curl, not to mention the fantasy of tucking it behind his ear and then ravishing him beyond what his poor hair tie could contain. For now, there was no such restriction, and so it was yet another thing Edwin planned to take full advantage of. He took hold of Charles’ hair and simultaneously set his teeth against Charles’ neck. Charles’ grip on him tightened. With a barely perceptible pop, Edwin’s shirt vanished. Or: The first time Charles vanished Edwin’s clothes.

a lap dance club without the dancers: dead boy detectives, (sapphic) payneland

The woman was a sight and a half. Glazed eyes, dark strands of hair sticking to flushed cheeks, the proper button-down doing nothing to hide the way her chest heaved with her rapid breaths. Easy. Charlize had barely started. And, oh, there was still so much she planned to do… Or: A lap dance gets a little out of hand.

December

need an adversary (to my down-to-marry): dead boy detectives, palasaki, payneland

The guests all stood and turned back to face the doors as they slid open. The music rose to a crescendo, and in walked Edwin, beautifully dressed and clutching a spray of flowers. He was wearing that small and secret smile that Charles knew better than his own, strutting down the aisle like it was a runway privileged enough to feature him. Charles couldn’t take his eyes off him even if he wanted to. The world and everyone in it faded away, ‘til Edwin was all he could see. If Charles could choose to live in this moment for the rest of forever, he would. Or: A real wedding; a fake relationship. What could possibly go wrong?

tagging @tragedy-machine, @lolotr, @aletterinthenameofsanity, @c-rowland, @shadowquill17 and whoever else wants to take part! <333

[eggy-the-boy]

This has been on my mind for several days

[bumblydumbly]

insane how people act like charles is ‘the jealous one’ like edwin didnt spend the whole first episode screaming crying throwing up every time charles looked at crystal and not him

[edwinisms]

see I can’t accept charles’ comic background and socioeconomic status as canon for the show because if I did that would mean the whole group would be a bunch of rich kids and that’s a horrifying concept

[bravernificationbeam]

cringe as fucking hell for a piece of media to be anti-vegan in 2024. hannibal is running circles over you. HANNIBAL.

[asidian]

A little heartbroken by the news, not going to lie.

But I'm going to keep creating for this fandom, because the characters have made a place in my heart, and I suspect they'll stay there for a good long while. This show and the fandom have been such a joy to partake in during a really rough time in my life, and I appreciate that more than I can say. I appreciate all of you who make the fandom what it is, too.

I guess in the end, Season 2 gets to be whatever we make it. So you know what? Let's all share our Season 2s. Nobody's going to stop us or tell us we're wrong.

So here we go. The Season 2 in my heart, in no particular order:

Desire shows up and puts Charles Rowland through the absolute wringer. He is losing his entire mind, he wants Edwin so bad. This boy has 17 different crises and finally a realization that he has been head over heels for some decades and he is just an idiot, actually

Payneland confession and a first kiss

They get Niko back from the Neitherlands. She's some flavor of undead, and she is having a grand old time, actually

Jenny sets up a butcher shop in London and goes on a date that doesn't try to kill her. With the Night Nurse

Crystal has a corruption arc with David buried in her soul-tree soil and at first they don't realize what's going on, but in the end the boys find a way to go into her heart-space and help her resolve the problem

The boys dance on-screen with some of those skeleton choreography dances

Mick mysteriously also has a shop in London. It straddles time-space and also realms. The characters are all ????? but no one ever figures out wtf is going on with that

Tragic Mick saves the day like a big damn hero with a bazooka like in the comics

The Cat King is around, generally being his trickster self, causing problems for funsies. He dies again and comes back as a fluffy white cat with glam white fur clothes

Charles gets kidnapped somewhere and Edwin has to go and save him. It's very dramatic and parallels S1 Ep7

Monty makes a showing in crow form. He has so many cute bird mannerisms. He gets fluffy in the London cold

The boys return to St. Hilarion's. They find their respective remains and come to terms with their deaths. They decide that, however tragic their deaths were, it led them to the only place they'd want to be: together

Crystal and Niko lay the boys to rest side by side, under the same headstone

[tititilani]

I can't stop thinking about if Simon had taken Edwin's offer

Like Charles finds Edwin in the hallway as ever but this time there's another boy there too, cowering against the wall next to him. Maybe the dollhead spider doesn't care about Simon, too busy focusing on its favorite target, so Charles is left standing in the hallway with Simon when Edwin is taken.

They get out of hell, but Edwin doesn't confess due to Simon hovering behind his elbow. He doesn't want to confess his emotions in front of his killer, who he probably hasn't even properly figured out how he's feeling towards yet.

The Night Nurse is pissed they came out with an extra soul but Niko's same loophole still applies and Simon stays.

"This is Simon," Edwin says when it's all said and done, finally introducing the boy that's been hiding behind him since the door closed. "He was a...classmate of mine."

"He saved me," Simon says, looking up at Edwin moony-eyed and Charles knows that look and something settles heavy in his stomach.

"Glad to have ya, mate," he tells him even though the words taste sour. This other boy knew Edwin when he was alive, the thought is slightly terrifying to him.

Simon settles in fine with the agency even if the agency feels a little crowded now with five people in it but he continues to moon over Edwin and Edwin just...never tells anyone how they actually knew each other. He reasons it just doesn't matter, that he can't find the right time, whatever.

Charles never really warms up to him, though he tries to hide it, but he sees the looks Simon gives Edwin, a soppy smitten look that is somehow worse than anything Monty or the Cat King ever tried with Edwin because of all of them, Simon arguably knows the most about like Edwardian courting. That, like Edwin, Simon has also survived hell. Charles hates the idea that someone could potentially understand Edwin more than he does.

He hates it so much that nothing further happens between him and Crystal because the idea of Edwin being left alone with Simon bothers him so much. He sees Simon adjusting Edwin's collar one (1) time and it makes him feel sick.

And then there's the fortune-teller.

They only go to her sometimes for cases because she never fails to freak Charles out but her prophecies tend to be accurate like 60% of the time which is pretty good for a fortune teller. She looks at the two of them at the end, because it is just the two of them for once, and then looks just at Edwin.

"How kind you are," she says, the words a compliment but the tone snide. "To house your killer. Pray tell it doesn't come back to you."

"What." Charles says. "The fuck."

Charles is furious, of course, and it takes Edwin a long time to talk him out of smashing Simon's face in with the new cricket bat.

"He's like me," he insists in that quiet but firm voice. Charles wants to scream that Simon is nothing like Edwin - that he doesn't have a fraction of Edwin's kindness or pissiness, that his blue eyes are not nearly as beautiful as Edwin's green - but before he can even open his mouth, Edwin continues. "He...He likes boys, Charles. He likes me."

Oh. Oh.

Charles stares at Edwin who is looking back at him, trying and failing to hide the fact he's terrified, and Charles doesn't give one shit that Edwin likes boys because he's his best mate forever. He's still pissed that Simon is apparently staying but he has to hug Edwin at that. "I'm still pissed you didn't tell me about him," is all he says, swallowing back the other words he wants to say.

Charles grows even more paranoid about Simon being around, who has to get used to the fact that Charles takes to swinging his cricket bat ominously every time he comes within ten feet of Edwin. He finds out that adjusting clothing was an Edwardian courting thing and wants to break something. The very idea the very person who killed his best mate is now trying to put the moves on said best mate pisses him off.

It also makes him think of numerous times Edwin had readjusted his collar or jacket in the past and it makes his non-existent stomach flip.

Eventually, Simon decides he's ready to move on to his after-life and Charles keeps his hands from fisting when he looks at Edwin with that same soppy look. He knows Edwin has forgiven Simon by now but Charles has always been better at holding a grudge and he knows what is going to come out of Simon's mouth before he even asks. He knows that if Edwin says yes, he won't stop him.

Charles also knows that if Edwin does, there is no way he is going to find any kind of his own afterlife.

"You could come with me," Simon says hopefully and the moment after is the longest in Charles' life.

"Thank you, Simon," Edwin says kindly and Charles has to keep himself from crying. "But I have no interest in going anywhere without Charles."

He steps back - away from Simon and back towards Charles. Ears suspiciously pink, Edwin links their hands and they watch as Simon follows the Night Nurse.

[tragedy-machine]

Happy New Year, guys!

today's payneland idea is Crystal telling Edwin "you don't have to worry about making Charles uncomfortable now (after the confession), have you noticed how clingy he is with you? He'd let you do just about anything"

And Edwin, ever the scientist, wants to test that theory a bit, so for the first experiment he stands just that 🤏 much closer to Charles and patiently waits if his friend says anything, but all he gets is the usual heart eyes and a "what's up, mate?", so Edwin thinks "huh" and decides to continue the tests Then, although it feels daring, almost too much, Edwin starts initiating more touches between them, like pats on the arm and such and, peculiarly, Charles takes it well, very well even, because somehow the grin he gives Edwin is even wider than usual

When their usual reading time arrives, instead of putting Charles' feet in his lap, Edwin suggests Charles lays his head there today and Charles freezes for a second, almost making Edwin worry he went too far, but then Charles all but launches himself onto the couch with a bright smile

(Edwin also weaves his fingers through Charles' hair during the second iteration of this idea of course, can't introduce too many variables in one experiment after all)

Then, instead of just saying "well done, Charles", his eyes hold Charles' and he adds "you really know how to handle X" and Charles can't break away from the eye contact even if he tried, he's absolutely enchanted and arrested by the warmth exploding inside him at the soft intensity of the moment and praise

Next experiment is touching Charles' face, Edwin waits for the right occasion and it comes when Charles makes a tiny mistake during a case, he couldn't have helped it really, but he still beats himself up over it, and Edwin knows now that Charles responds really well to touch, so he cups Charles' upset face in his palm and tells him that it wasn't his fault, that he did the best he could, and Edwin watches in real time as Charles' already wet-looking eyes become even more liquid, as he puts more of his head's weight into Edwin's hand, and Edwin adores the squishy and open way he looks now, so trusting and vulnerable in Edwin's hands

Edwin looks at all his notes, double and triple checks the results and almost can't believe it, because they all point to somehow Charles becoming happier, instead of uncomfortable, since he's started it, but that's odd isn't it?

Maybe being so lovey-dovey with Charles has altered Edwin's brain or something, because the next time they hug (they do more of that lately), without even thinking about it, Edwin's lips plant a small kiss to Charles' temple and he panics, because that's crossing a line, isn't it? He's never planned on kissing Charles, that's too far! But before he can spiral, Charles sighs happily, sinking into their embrace more heavily and says "Ever since you- um, I just. I really like this. You know. Us. I feel proper loved, thanks to you, mate. And I hope I make you feel that way too."

(Charles had to stop himself from saying "ever since you started loving on me", because it felt a bit much lol)

[pippin-katz]

Why Did Charles Keep Asking About Edwin's Conversation With The Cat King?

I was reading a fic where Edwin agrees to the Cat King's initial offer, but because time passes differently in whatever room that is, he's gone for six weeks even though it was a couple hours for him, and it got me thinking. I worked out why Charles was so pushy about that conversation.

Charles and Edwin have been together for 30 years. The way they act gives me the feeling that they spent very little time apart, and wherever one went, the other went too. In the fic, Edwin's inner monologue refers to it as "shared memories"; they experience everything together.

But now, there's this.

Edwin disappeared for hours on Charles' side of things. He had this conversation with a magical being, a stranger that sets off warning bells in Charles' head. He came back with a magical bracelet that trapped him in Port Townsend, that he couldn't remove, and something about his behavior was off.

Charles is not stupid or oblivious. He reads Edwin like a book, albeit with blurry text. He knows something is not quite right, but doesn't know what. And he knows it's because of whatever happened in the few hours that he wasn't with him.

For what is likely the first time in 30 years, Edwin has experienced/done something significant without him. Charles is in the dark; he wasn't there to see or hear what happened for himself. All he has to go on is what Edwin tells him, and he gets the immediate feeling that he's not saying everything.

When talking about it in front of Crystal, he just asks if he said anything else, but once they're alone in their office, he's direct.

Charles is absolutely (and correctly) sure that Edwin hasn't told him the real/full truth about his meeting with the Cat King, and tells him as much.

The way he asks feels... calm? Crystal's not there, they're alone, they're in their safe space, why wouldn't Edwin tell him? He probably thinks he would, but obviously, he doesn't. He lets a detail slip that confuses and concerns him even more; the Cat King whispering in his ear. That confirms very close proximity between them, something that's potentially dangerous and something he knows Edwin doesn't particularly like, and Charles is just... lost, uncomfortable, and frustrated.

Can you imagine how maddening that must have been? To not know what really happened? To only have vague descriptions of the events from his friend? To see and know that something is wrong with him, but being unable to truly help because he's clueless as to what the actual problem is?

It's highly likely that this is the first time Charles has ever encountered this.

As Edwin says, he's "fixated" on this. It's like there's a page missing in his copy of the script of events. He's never had to worry about it before; he was always there with him. Edwin says it's not a big deal, but Charles can't make that call himself. It's not that he doesn't trust Edwin; it's his protectiveness of him. He wants to see and assess the situation for himself. He wants to be positive there's no danger, that it meets his standards. He needs to know everything about where Edwin is, what he's doing, who he's with, at all times, so he can be ready to protect him.

As Jayden put it, Charles has given himself the mantle of Edwin's guardian. Edwin dedicates all his time and energy into helping others, to the point of neglecting himself. In response, Charles dedicates himself to Edwin. If he won't take care of himself, if no one else is going to help him, Charles will. As he says in Hell when he's rescuing Edwin, "Someone's gotta do it."

(ko-fi)

[greyskyflowers]

I'm just such a big fan of Edwin having some permanent issues after a second trip to hell and the final run in with Esther.

I like the idea that he actually has to sleep now. Nowhere near what a living human needs but more then he ever needed before. Maybe sleeping for several hours every few weeks.

Iron wounds take longer to heal, even though Edwin has always had a higher pain tolerance due to his experiences in hell.

When he's really tired, things start to hurt. Tender pain along all his joints, the spots where the demon spider found it was the easiest to tear him apart.

He get bruises under his eyes, headaches, occasionally a little chill, stiffness, and just a general aching all over his body.

It's hard for Edwin to sleep, for several reasons. Nightmares, anxiety, restlessness, and just being stubborn.

The vulnerability of sleep is terrifying.

The idea of leaving Edwin alone somewhere to sleep, even in their office, has Charles skin pickling. Especially knowing Edwin is also reluctant to sleep without him there.

So, Edwin does not sleep alone. Ever. Occasionally he gets left with Niko, and sometimes Crystal, but it's for very brief amounts of time before he's back with Charles.

It should be embarrassing to have these issues now, and it is, but they're even closer after Port Townsend and it's not something Edwin can avoid. He has to sleep now.

Really, it comes down to does he wants to keep it to himself and nap when no one else is around to avoid feeling weak? Or does he want to sleep with the comfort of knowing someone is with him and hell won't take him before he even gets a chance to wake up?

It comes down to how fearful is he of something dragging him off into hell again and the answer is apparently incredibly so.

Also, if he's going to look vulnerable and weak then it might as well be with Charles, who's seen him at his worst.

He tries not to overthink how pleased Charles is each time Edwin seeks him out for a nap or how good it feels to be held, the safest place he can think of is in Charles arms or under his sharp watch.

Charles hovers, and he's aware of it. He can't convince himself to stray too far from Edwin. Part of it's because he's protective, reluctant to leave Edwin in anyone else's hands when he's more vulnerable then before.

Part of it is selfish, he's a little possessive. A sleeping Edwin is not something anyone else needs to see. Edwin in pain is not something anyone else needs to see.

Crystal had recently demanded they have a bed available in the office for when her and Niko stayed over, even though they rarely use it. It's soft, covered in pillows and blankets, and Edwin has taken to hiding away in it when he sleeps. Crystal looks incredibly pleased when it slips that Edwin uses it and Charles is hit with a intense wave of fondness for her.

No one needs to see Edwin like this. Especially not when he loses a lot of his layers and curls up in something more comfortable. It leaves him vulnerable, his throat and wrists bare, and looking smaller without all extra clothing.

Nobody needs to see how he only really lets himself sleep when Charles is in bed with him or close enough in the room to reach out for if needed. He watches Charles do whatever it is he's doing with half lidded eyes, a strip of green that stubbornly stays visible until Charles is closer.

In the beginning they thought it was something temporary. Ghost don't need to sleep, Charles never sleeps. Sometimes he can get himself to relax enough that it's almost like sleeping but it's not anywhere near actual sleep.

They think it's just him trying to make up what Esther took.

But it keeps happening. Again and again.

And it makes them both anxious. Charles is worried about why Edwin suddenly needs to sleep but Edwin is worried about the actual sleeping part.

He does not want to sleep. Sleep means dreaming and nothing good will come from his dreams, he's sure of it.

It's also scary. Sleep is a weakness, it leaves him vulnerable and unaware. He doesn't want to sleep.

In those first few weeks where they all still thought this would pass, exhaustion caught up to him one evening as they were finishing up a long case. Charles was out and he couldn't even think about how wonderful it would be to go to go lay down because Charles was not there.

The office was too quiet. It made him restless and he would have paced but he was feeling especially sore that day. His hands had ached while he was writing and he had to stop frequently to flex them.

He was weak, alone, and rapidly sliding into a decreased mental awareness due to exhaustion. It's not a situation he liked.

They weren't apart for long those days, and still aren't, so Charles is back pretty quickly but it's long enough that Edwin was struggling. He blinked sleepily at Charles, with eyes that itched when they shouldn't have, and he must have looked terrible because Charles straightened up a little bit and his eyes jumped around the room before he relaxed.

He said something, dropped his bag and walked forward until he could put his hands on Edwin and that's it. Edwin leaned forward until he was relying on Charles to hold him up, turned his face into his neck and passed out still standing up.

It doesn't get that bad again. Charles is good about noticing when Edwin starts to slow down, and when it takes him a little longer to string his words together or explain himself. He picks up the way he carries himself different on day where things hurt a little more or how he rubs his temple when he feels a headache coming on.

He herds Edwin to bed like a sheep dog and makes sure everything is locked up so they won't be bothered. Edwin had managed to find a spell that would keep anyone else, living and none, out of their office when activated. It's perfect for extra privacy and security.

Charles hates that Edwin was hurt enough that he needs this now, and he hates seeing him wore down and exhausted... but part of him loves these days.

Edwin sleepy and soft, usually pulling Charles down with him until they're under all the blankets and pillows, tucked on their own little world.

He clings when he sleeps. He buries his face in Charles throat and under his chin like he's trying to hide, presses in as close as he can until they're completely tangled together. Not that Charles has any problem with that. He runs his fingers over skin in soothing gestures and pulls him in close if he starts to show any signs of a nightmare.

He wakes up with hair sticking up and clothes rumpled, blinking at Charles a few times as he tries to wake up enough to remember what's happening. Sometimes, Charles gets lucky and Edwin will stretch out like a cat before readjusting himself to be close again and doze off for a little longer.

It knocks the breath he doesn't need out of his lungs and love sits in his throat until it threatens to choke him.

Sometimes there are nightmares and Edwin shoves himself away desperately with a pained and fearful noise that has Charles cringing. Edwin stares at him from the other side of the bed, eyes big but unfocused in a way that shows he's not actually seeing Charles. He's tight, tense and completely locked up. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. They're both still laying down, and Charles doesn't move even though he wants to. He starts talking, low and soft, keeps doing that until Edwin starts to relax again. It's a slow process and it takes a while before Edwin is relaxed enough that Charles can reach out and coax him back closer. He's exhausted after those little episodes, too tired and his body too sore from being so tense to put up much of a fight as Charles tucks him in close again. Sometimes he's asleep before they're even settled back in, limp with sleep as Charles rearranges him in a way that won't have him aching when he wakes up.

Sometimes Charles is too wired to lay down, even if cuddling is great motivation, and he keeps himself busy while Edwin rests. Sometimes they're in the middle of a case and there's still work that needs to be done, so he does what can while until Edwin is back up and functional.

It's a powerful feeling, having Edwin trust him so much and so openly. Sometimes Charles has to check on him, the quiet and unmoving lump on the bed making him nervous until he looks him over, just to make sure everything is okay. It's hard to tell sometimes since they don't breathe like the living, and Edwin sleeps so quiet. He doesn't even flinch at Charles getting close, nothing triggering those survival instincts gained in hell that would have him awake and moving if it was anyone else this close.

God help anyone stupid enough to try something when they're like this. He'd fight anyone who disturbed them, anyone who woke Edwin up from his much needed rest or threaten to cause them harm. It burns under his skin and it makes his teeth itch.

Nothing would separate them. Nothing could take them away from each other.

[ask-geralt]

You guys want to know one of my favorite things about Edwin? He loves how smart his friends are. He gets so excited and outright a w e d whenever they think of something clever, make a keen observation, or offer a solution to their problems. All I ever want to write is Edwin who eloquently gushes and praises his friends' intelligence and skills. Edwin who, when the occasion arises, gases them up when they get self deprecating, because to him it's not an opinion, it's a FACT that they're smart, and good, and kind, and brave. That they're all equals. I would even go so far as to say he, himself, feels he has to continuously work and study so hard to keep up with them, to continue contributing.

Genuinely I feel like it's a pretty big factor in his hostility towards Crystal in the beginning. When Charles and Edwin first talk with her post-exorcism, she's unimpressed with the work they did to save her, and she insults the name of their agency, which Edwin and Charles are both clearly fond of. Charles, who's used to laughing at digs far more hurtful than that considering his life before death, let's it roll off him easily, but Edwin takes it more personally. From there, he grows jealous because of the attention Charles is giving her, made worse when Crystal proves her powers ARE faster than the methods the boys used before meeting her. Edwin feels like he needs to prove he's better, or at least still useful where Crystal isn't ("We all have talents.") to Charles, because if Crystal can do everything Edwin does, and does it better, then why would Charles keep sticking around? And of course, Crystal returns his hostility beat for beat, as she should. I feel like her subtle attempts to smooth things over and get along with Edwin aren't talked about enough, like she lets him get away with so many snide and openly rude comments before she starts biting back again in episode one. But Edwin holds a grudge and she shouldn't have to take his attitude towards her lying down, not forever, and neither of them are willing to, say, try and ask the other why they're so snippy towards each other, or apologize lol. Honestly their dynamic is so layered and fun to pick apart!!

What really seals it for me is the contrast in his reaction to Crystal compared to Niko. He warms to Niko pretty much immediately, calling her charming and quickly getting down to business on saving her, without even a token protest about helping yet another living girl. And I think that comes down to her attitude towards their assistance, what she brings to the table for the group's dynamic, and her willingness to let them do their thing without rocking the boat on methodology. She doesn't come across as a threat to Edwin's friendship (repressed and unacknowledged crush absolutely not helping either) with Charles, since she and Charles don't interact much, especially not one on one the way he and Crystal do, so she doesn't ruffle Edwin's feathers at all compared to how instantly and repeatedly Crystal gets under his skin.

All this to say I love all four of them, I love that they've all got their strengths and skills, I love that there's also that overlap, that they all get to do detective-ing and that Edwin doesn't get that petty protectiveness over that role. Yes he feels threatened by Crystal, but that has everything to do with Charles and nothing to do with her being competent, in and if itself. He doesn't see himself as a Sherlock Holmes with three Watsons following him around. He likes it when the others are clever, when he's not being a petty bitch (affectionate) who hates change/new things lmao

[moresandmanstuff]

Dead Boy Detectives Character Parallels - Meta Analysis

I've noticed that Crystal and Niko can be viewed as parallels of Edwin and Charles, so I thought I'd post some examples in case anyone is interested.

First, there is the way they meet. Edwin and Crystal encounter someone who is in trouble, on the verge of death, and try to help as best they can. They sit with them and listen, bond over shared trauma.

The big difference, of course, is that Charles dies while Niko lives. This is not a criticism of Edwin - he was just one ghost boy fresh from Hell. It’s only by working together that the three of them are able to save Niko (i.e. the power of friendship and this enchanted jar I found).

Charles is immediately taken with Crystal and eventually makes the connection that she reminds him of Edwin. Edwin finds Niko similarly charming. I bet if he thought about it, he would figure out it’s because she reminds him of Charles. They are both stubbornly optimistic and delightfully openminded, if a bit reckless.

They impulsively pick up objects.

They are curious about the bear talisman. (Notice how the shots are different, with Niko visually trapped with it in the jar.)

They really want that Magic 8 Ball and look to Edwin for permission to take the case.

They are much friendlier with Tragic Mick than Edwin or Crystal are, which results in him giving them the magical objects that come in so handy later.

They tend to jump in front of danger when their counterpart is threatened.

And then there is their mutual appreciation for blunt force objects. (That crowbar definitely ended up in the bag of tricks backpack.)

Bonus shot of all four reacting to the young woman jumping from the lighthouse in episode 4. Charles and Niko immediately look away, but Crystal and Edwin watch. Edwin even moves to get a better view. Is this because they are more desensitized to violence?

Lastly, just a dialogue parallel. Edwin in episode 6 after realizing he was tricked by Monty, and Crystal in the pilot explaining that David the Demon must have tricked her.

I'm sure there are more but this is long enough already. What parallels have you noticed?

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives: Fic Recs

My latest hyperfixation is Dead Boy Detectives, so oc I've been reading and commenting on a ton of fic. And it's been really nice because the response of the authors has been so warm. I don't think I've ever gotten so many replies so quickly! Also, the fandom has inspired me to actually start writing again for the first time in two years and I've got a great idea for a fanvid. (Any tips on how to make one would be appreciated! 😅)

So in tribute to the lovely fandom, here's a fic rec post (nearly all payneland):

in this city there's a thousand things I want to say to you by laiqualaurelote

Edwin has a sexual awakening and it blows Charles' mind. And other things. Very funny and well written. Also features minor Edwin/Cat King and Edwardian flirting.

I also highly recommend the saviour of the broken, the beaten, and the damned by the same author, which is a kind of multiverse!Edwin fic? Featuring Edwin dying? And Niko time travelling? Trying to save time? Anyway, interesting to see Edwin alive, ageing and in different periods of time/his life.

For the First Time Twice by LikeMmmCookies

Amnesia fic! Charles loses his memories and thinks he and Edwin are married. Very cute (tandem bike date!) and well written, though Edwin's point of view still manages to be angsty. Also, the yearning is off the charts and the most recent chapter turned up the heat.

I guess you're stuck with me by Punny_Puck

AU in which Edwin and Charles actually got married pre-show. Funny, cute with a sweet marriage proposal prequel. Instant comfort fic.

Dance the Night by Gruoch

The gang are hunting an energy-sucking vampire that targets beautiful people, so naturally Edwin MUST disguise himself as the hottest girl in London. This one starts out fun and campy then takes a hard left turn into Serious Business. Prepare yourself for emotional moments, worldbuilding and some really excellent horror.

Long Past Time by sanctuary_for_all

Charles proposes to Edwin post canon. It's a short and sweet established relationship fic with some cool worldbuilding about ghosts and their ability to shape their clothing/appearances.

lay my hands on heaven by Opossum_Subatomic

I had to include a PWP and this is a great one. Extremely well written, in character and romantic. And explicit, obviously.

Data Points by Asidian

Edwin learns to cuddle. It's a production and completely adorable. I love a fic that explores the difference between the boys' physicality and this one's really on point. The writing and characterisation are great and it's nice to see Edwin taking care of Charles.

I also recommend Lanterns In the Dark, which sets the scene for Charles and Edwin's first meeting with some gut-wrenching details about Charles' homelife and Edwin's escape from Hell.

When I Was a Young Boy by flowerbritts

A Good Omens crossover and AU in which Aziraphale is Edwin's adopted father. Family reunions and revelations abound. Also, Edwin gets to be a teenager and slam doors while shouting, as he deserves.

The author has also written Wait, I'm Coming Too, which is a very sweet post canon 'Charles Worries About Edwin and Realises His Feelings' fic inspired by that 'Edwin reading Heartstopper' fanart. Both fics deserve more love!

A Slight Miscalculation by kantigone

Idiots in Love and Didn't Know They Were Dating. Crystal and Niko are the real MVPs, for real. A treat.

Terrible at Keeping Secrets (5+1) by ASingularSadSoggyPringle

Interesting demon!Edwin AU. Charles is a precious cupcake in this fic and Edwin is mostly the same with some Darker moments. I loved the concept and the author adds in some great, creepy details.

somaesthesia by perexcri

Edwin's journey from being touch-averse to touch-starved... at least when it comes to Charles. Palmistry is involved. I loved Edwin's characterisation and the unresolved sexual/romantic tension was on point.

And possibly I like the thrill (of under me you quite so new) by Leandra

Edwin explores his sexuality and re-negotiates his relationship with Charles. Meanwhile, the gang take on the case of a ghost who wants them to matchmake his still-living lover. Crosses over with The Sandman. And Edwin gets to be confident and flirty as a treat.

Always by How You Doing (FancyMeetingYouHere)

Hurt/Comfort fic in which Edwin has a traumatic flashback to the doll-head demon spider and Charles looks after him. Charles reading Good Omens to Edwin is a nice, meta touch.

Made You Look by Baby_Spinach

The agency are hunting an incubus that decides to take on Edwin's appearance. A repression explosion ensues. Fun fic.

Shape Me by dearheartdont

This one's actually a character study of Charles and his mixed race Indian heritage (so no Edwin) and it's so well done. It's also part of a series in progress about Charles growing up in the 80s with all the racism and homophobia that that entails. I look forward to seeing where it goes.

The Most Tender Place In My Heart by coloursflyaway

Edwin shares memories of how he fell in love with Charles, who figures out his own feelings in the process. It's super sweet and involves fun pre-show flashbacks and defintely deserves more attention!

I also loved Won't Fear Love by the same author, in which Charles takes Edwin out on dates and breaks the cuteness scales. And shout out to Good Enough which is the first fic I bookmarked for this fandom! 🥳

Anyway, thank you to all these amazing writers for making this fandom so special! 🥰

[alltimefail]

Okay gang, I noticed something super intriguing in my recent weekend rewatch of Dead Boy Detectives!

In Episode 4 when the night nurse goes into Charles' mind there's a consistent detail in his memories that I haven't seen anyone point out: not all of Charles' five schoolmates throw stones at him when he's in the lake.

Two boys are positioned slightly off to the left side of the screen, watching and making no move to stop the others, but they do not directly harm Charles at any point.

I know this doesn't seem particularly interesting in and of itself, but it quickly becomes more interesting when the Night Nurse asks Charles "What could possibly have made [his] friends turn on [him] like this," and we flash forward to the next memory, a visual response to her question. In this memory, we see Charles standing up to all of his so-called "friends" who are senselessly beating up on a boy from Pakistan and...

Wait - actually, no - not all of his friends...

Yet again, two boys have been intentionally set apart from the group and yes, it is the same two boys who stood off to the side and watched Charles be harmed (ultimately killed) in the previous scene. The juxtaposition of these scenes begins to feel even more intentional when the perspective flips and we see the scene how Charles was seeing it, with the passive boys on the left and the boys engaging in violence on the right.

This scene is much brighter so we get a really good look at their faces here, but both of them go through a myriad of facial expressions/reactions in quick succession that are challenging to discern with 100% certainty. But with the blocking for the group being the same in both shots and the roles the boys play being the same in both shots, I feel like this had to be an intentional choice made to convey something implicitly to the audience.

That leaves me to wonder - did these boys know, deep down, that what was happening was wrong? Did they want to resist, walk away, or try to stop the violence like Charles did earlier but felt powerless to do so? It would be remiss of me not to acknowledge how one of the two "passive" boys was black: did that otherness, the same otherness that Charles felt and that boy from Pakistan surely felt, keep him from speaking up out of fear for his own safety (a valid fear, considering what we know).

Whatever the purpose, it's a really sad detail to me. Heartbreaking, actually. Edwin is 100% right when he says that the living are messy, and Crystal is right when she says that she and the boys lost their lives to boys who went too far (hers temporarily in the form of her memories, the boys completely in the form of their literal lives) because that's just it, isn't it? This show is full of moral and ethical conversations surrounding the limitations of labels like "good" and "bad" people; about capability and willingness to change; and about how our actions, whether rooted in good or bad intentions, can lead to unintended or undesired outcomes. Perhaps none of Charles' "friends" believed they would kill Charles that night; perhaps they just wanted to "rough him up" or "teach him a lesson." Perhaps none of Edwin's bullies could have anticipated that the ritual sacrifice "prank" would do anything more than scare a boy they perceived as different, effeminate ("Mary Ann"), and they certainly couldn't have known it would lead to years of torture and suffering in hell for not just Edwin, but for themselves as well. But it doesn't matter, and it doesn't excuse what they did. The boys who stood to the side and watched Charles die, and who watched their fellow "mates" beat on another boy prior to that, may not have thrown a single punch, but it didn't matter - the damage was done. They still were complicit in that violence, and therefore played just as much a role in Charles' death as the boys who were throwing stones and punches. To be alive is to deal with mess, complications, baggage...to insinuate otherwise is to diminish the nuance and intention put into every choice not only in this show, but in some ways, the world at large as well. It may be a small moment, but it struck me as something that said so much without having to explicitly say anything at all. Art is a good mirror on society in this way; it makes us face the reflections of messy, complex characters and situations that we could just as likely find ourselves a part of (maybe as the "good" guy, the vicim; maybe as the "bad" guy, the bully; or maybe as the guys who just... did nothing at all. The ones who watched, who were complicit in the suffering of others for what could be a multitude of selfish or self-preserving reasons).

All that being said, the TLDR here is: considering it's the same two boys who behave the same way in both instances it feels like an intentional detail. I wonder if there's potential for one (or both) of these boys to reappear in Charles' (after)life in the future? They are likely both still alive today, in their 50s, just as Charles would be had he not been murdered. Perhaps one of these boys could die and come to the agency with regrets or unfinished business (directly involving Charles or regarding something unrelated). Maybe Charles will run into them, alive, through a different case or just on the streets of London and be overwhelmed with a sense of "That should be me, too. I should have gotten to live." I imagine he would recognize them, even in older bodies, and it would understandably affect him to have to face anyone who played a role in his death, whether they threw stones or just watched.

Orrrrrrer it could be a totally pointless detail! 😂 I'm always open-minded to the fact that after 30+ rewatches I could be overanalyzing at this point. Either way, it confounds me nonetheless and I so desperately hope we will get to explore Charles' trauma more in season 2 (🤞)... so I thought I would share my thoughts! 🖤

(Last note: please excuse the bad photo quality!! I searched meticulously for the exact screencaps I needed but couldn't find anything, so I just took pictures of my tv screen with my phone lol.)

[charles-leclerizz]

🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑blue views

🏁 Pairings : Carlos Sainz X fem! Reader

🏁 Warnings : smut [nothing major, listed at the end of the writing], fluff, stress [which is aliviated by the smut]

🏁 Word Count : 3.6k words (3612 words)

🏁 Summary : It’s time to celebrate! For everyone else that is. You, on the other hand, will be planning your’s and your fiance’s “engagement week” festivities, until you die. That is, until an impromptu intervention is planned.

🏁 translations via radio comm below

🏁 credits : word dividers by @heavenlayt

🏁 Music player : Good to be by Mark Ambor

“Carlos!” You shouted out, leaning back against the heel of your soft wedges as you reached behind you for more cocktail glasses. The sound of your fiancé’s loafers against the terracotta staircase echoed throughout the ground level as he made his way to the kitchen, where you were working alongside half a dozen cooks.

“Si, Mariposa?” He came up behind you, plucking the crystal margarita glass from your fingers and taking a sip of the peachy, carbonated concoction that you had masterfully created. You giggled when he hummed happily and kissed your neck, “It’s delicious.”

“Ay, Ay, Señor. Tienes que esperar a la luna de miel” An elderly voice scolded from your left followed with a hollow bonk. Carlos hissed, rubbing the back of his head where a thick wooden rolling pin had struck him playfully, “You wound me, Maria.”

He followed with a pained “Literally.” When Maria had merely shot him a fond look over her shoulder as she went back to washing the tomatoes in the deep-set ceramic sink.

“You’re absolutely sure that everyone got the invites?” You leaned down to inspect the dozen drinks that you had made, “Because we invited at least 60 people, and if I make 60 drinks and there are not exactly 60 throats present to ingest them. You are going to remain abstinent until we’re married.”

Carlos stared at you open mouthed, a betrayed expression overtook his face, “So you would choose Maria’s wishes over mine? muy cruel.” He then bought his hands up from your waist to brush your hair from your shoulder, dragging his fingers up your arm-he slipped off the thin spaghetti strap of your white, cotton summer dress to press short, sweet kisses on your skin, “I mean can you really resist this?” He reasoned.

“It would be very easy Mi Amour.” You harrumphed, ignoring the tingling shocks that fluttered beneath your skin at the drag of his lips against your shoulder. You jolted forward when you felt his other hand travel from your waist, down to the front of your dress, “Carlos- I have so much to do. I mean I promised Alex and Lily I would make trifle for dessert, but then your parents have this one friend who hates custard! I mean did you hear the story, he literally puked, and I will not have him puke in my engagement party, nope. Not on my watch.”

You wagged your finger in the air before grabbing another five glasses from their upside-down position on the kitchen island where you were working. Taking the washcloth that sat comofortably in the front pocket of your plaid apron, you began wiping away the droplets of water from the crystal before continuing to babble about your long list of duties for the upcoming week of festivities.

“So, I need to also make these cute fruit tarts that I made that one time. But then I realised that Charles and Max hate kiwi, and the whole dessert is basically that, so for them I’m making this great chocolate gateau, the one at the restaurant? Since they really fucking liked that one.”

You grumbled out the last part, crushing up your freshly picked strawberries that had previously been resting in a metal strainer along with a cream, cotton cover up to keep them moist. The marble mortar grinded against the matching pestle as the sweet fruits reduced to a thick paste.

“On top of that the other like, 40 guests have very specific wants, so I have 20 different things to make along with this signature drink that Jenni designed for us! You know her, right? the bar tender at the other restaurant in Monaco, I learnt how to make it, and you said its good. It’s good right?”

You add a few cups of carbonated water to the pinkish paste in front of you, before turning back to Carlos, who had been patiently listening to you rant- mainly due to the fear that if he were to stop, you would give his ear the same treatment as the berries that remain crushed beneath you, “Si, mi mariposa. Very good.”

You sighed before fully spinning around to face him, resting your back on the dark wood counter, looping your hands around his neck, “I’m sorry Carlito.” You brush a singular strand of hair that fell from its carefully crafted style onto his forehead, “This isn’t very fun for you, is it?” You move onto your tiptoes to reach his cheek.

“Nonsense, I have Papa and Guillermo coming to help with the decorations outside, I think Blanca and Mama are also coming- to help.” He chuckles when you groan happily and bring his head down to kiss his lips graciously.

“Thank you, Mi Amour.” You murmur against his mouth, running your fingers through his hair as his arms came to circle your waist, pulling you against his chest. You sigh against him, melting in his embrace as you barely manage to hold yourself up and anchor yourself on his broad shoulders that strain against the baby blue polo top, he chose to wear.

“AY, SEÑOR,” Maria bumped Carlos slightly as she came rushing through the walkway, trotting determinedly through the low, exposed brick archway and outside to the patio area that was protected from the morning sunrays by the lattice structure that stood tall whilst being overtaken by winding ivy.

Beneath this, Maria sat down at least 3 trays full of freshly sliced vegetables, sun drying them as preparation for the multiple dishes that would be served that evening, “Si no estás aquí para aportar nada útil, sal de la cocina.” She screeched whilst heading to the other side of your estate, towards the large garden that housed many seasoned plants, ready with multiple fruits and vegetables for plucking.

“I think she will cook me next.” He shuddered before laying his forehead on yours, “Do not worry, Mariposa. Everything will turn out fine.”

“Why did I suggest an engagement week.” You pouted, nuzzling your head into his chest, to hide away from all the responsibilities you had brought onto yourself. You shake your head wildly, causing flurries of hair to escape from the bun you had messily done up, “All I know is that it must go well. Maria will for sure have a heart attack if it doesn’t,”

“I still think it’s a good idea” He comforts you, until the melodic sound of the doorbell resounds throughout the house, and he detaches from you, “That must be the back-up.” He winks at you as he jogs off to open the large, rustic door. You watch from the kitchen as Carlos laughs boisterously whilst embracing his family.

His mother and sister quickly wave him off, ushering the men out to the acres of back garden they have yet to decorate to approach you.

Blanca dances up to you, wiggling her arms and hands excitedly as she beams at your exhausted face, “There she is! Beautiful bride-to-be, our mariposa.” The knee length dress she chose skims her legs as the burgundy silk falls from her shoulders delicately, she hugs your neck tightly, swinging you both side to side whilst you flail around.

“Hola, diabla.” You chuckle, catching your mother-in-law’s eyes, you wait until Blanca removes herself from you for Reyes to do the same, but instead of violently rotating you like a ragdoll, she rubs your back and coos sympathetically.

“Ay mi muñeca, you look too tired to be a blushing bride.” She moves her arms from being drawn around your neck to rub your shoulders.

“What can I say? There’s too much to be done for me to be blushing.” You shrug, already going back to pouring out 10 more drinks, adding to the sea of glasses in front of you.

Blanca tuts disapprovingly, “This is not what being engaged is meant to be, it’s meant to be fun! And new! And sexy!” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, ignoring her mother who had picked up your to-do list and hid her face in the paper.

“Blanca, please.” Reyes rolled her eyes, “But she’s not wrong.” She reaches for a spare apron that hung rejected on the back of the pantry door.

“No, mamá please,” You attempt to snatch the apron away from Reyes, who tuts disapprovingly and had already begun to collect multiple utensils from your spacious kitchen whilst talking quickly with the cooks who had been diligently making progress on the rest of the menu, “I can’t possibly allow you to do my work.”

Blanca plucked the neatly tied bow around your waist, undoing the stained, pale blue cotton that protected your dress, “No, your job is to relax, and let my culo brother treat you nicely. Champagne, strawberries, chocolate.” She listed off the aphrodisiacs one by one, pushing you through the living room and up the stairs. You braced yourself on the railing as you let her guide you through the landing.

“I have all of that in the food that I should be making,” You whined, stomping your foot, and swivelling to level her with your eyes, “There is just too much to do before tonight. And the boys don’t even know what to do for decorations.”

Blanca swatted her hand through the air, as if physically plummeting away your doubts, “You’ve had the entire family added on your Pinterest board.” You snorted at that, but pressed your lips together when she shot you a look, “If I can’t whip them into shape, consider me a bad sister from day 1.” She planted her hands on her waist before pointing at your bedroom door, “Now either you can start yourself a bath, or I will.”

You harrumph and dig your feet into their spot on the newly waxed, wooden floors beneath you, “I see how it is.” Blanca squints her eyes at you, “Fine, I see how it is.”

You half expect her to push you into the room, but instead she leans over the banister and shouts, “CARLOS !!”

“Blanca!” You gasp, grabbing her dress and tugging her back from the beam, “W-Why would you?” You splutter.

“AY CARLOS !!” She continues to screech until you slap a palm over her mouth, careful of the nude brown lipstick she had worn.

“Si diabla?” Your fiancé shouts back up, already at the base of the staircase. Blanca licks your hand, causing you to yelp and jump back, giving her the perfect opportunity to answer, “Your fiancé is anxious as fuck.”

“What else is new?” He chuckles, hand braced on the railing as he emerges from the winding staircase. Carlos takes in the new scene, you are tackling Blanca onto the floor, she’s squealing whilst attempting to wrangle free from you, tummy first on the floor, “Mi amour, if you are going to leave me for my sister...” He starts, crossing his arms and tilting his head at you.

“You both are insufferable.” You grit out, twisting the knob to your bedroom, wating for Carlos to step inside. He stops momentarily when Blanca darts an arm out and begins to ramble to him in Spanish, Carlos answers just as quickly before his sister reaches up to smack the underside of his head.

“Blanca!” He shouts out after her, but she ignores him and sprints downstairs to assist with the preparations. Carlos turns back to you, slumping forward to rest his head against the door frame that you were currently leaning on, arms folded amusedly as you looked at him from under your eyelashes. He pivots his neck, gazing fondly into your eyes, “You’re pretty.” He mumbles, bringing a limp hand up to rest on your cheek, thumb moving soothingly against your face. You lean into his touch, “So are you” You breathe out, leaning upwards to ghost your lips over his.

This moment was merely poetic, the two of you, finding respite in the chaos within each other. His soft touch as he leaned forward for more, you grant it, because you craved him as deeply as he did for you. The astringent sweetness of his lips against yours and the heavenly feeling of his fingers cradling your hips made you moan out as he caught you weight when your knees gave out from beneath you.

The door creaked shut behind the two of you, your palms digging into the waistline of his shorts to tug his shirt out, his fingers dance down from your neck to the large cut-out of your dress that showed off the curve of your spine. Carlos broke away from you momentarily, his eyes still shut as he chuckled when you whined, chasing his lips desperately, “Jump,” He murmured, bracing himself by tugging you close and digging his fingers into the back of your thighs.

You complied, hopping into his secure hold before attaching your mouth to his once again, nipping at his full bottom lip. Carlos passed through the bedroom with ease, his muscle memory allowing him to walk underneath the long archway that led to your shared bathroom. He released you gently, his fingers pinching the hem of your dress on your way down, he bunched up the flowy linen, dragging it up to your waist and tugging it over your head- leaving you in just a pair of white, lacy underwear.

You laughed slightly, your hair mussed at taking over half of your face, “Carlos” you huff out. He laughs at your annoyance, gently moving the strands out of your eyes before tracing the dips and curves of your chest and stomach with feather-light touches.

Sighing, you tilt your head back, allowing him to press his lips against the column of your neck. You loop your hands around his neck, stumbling backwards towards the sink whilst bringing him with you. Carlos hoists you up and onto the counter, finally stepping back to gaze at your naked body, his eyes ravish you, the stiff peaks of your breasts and curve of your stomach, you watch him intently when he finally makes his way down to your panties, a damp patch already forming.

Carlos approaches you once again, his breath fresh and minty against your skin, “Tan bonita.” He compliments, trailing warm, open mouth kisses on your collar bone, starting from your shoulder until he reaches your sternum, “Tan deliciosa.” He moves to your breast, decorating it with his own purple-ish love marks, he littered them across until he enveloped your nipple into his mouth, his tongue licking against the pebble until it hardened beneath his attention.

Carlos turned his attention to the other whilst his other hand slipped beneath the elastic of your underwear, his middle finger teasing your wet slit, “all for me?” he moaned against your breast.

“of course.” You bury your hand in his hair, arching into his touch before he lowered to his knees in front of you.

“F-fuck” you whine, biting your lip harshly as he settles between your legs, he shucks you closer, harshly tugging you to the edge of the counter as he inches his mouth closer, hot breathe settling on the front of your underwear. You arch your back at the feeling, fingers teasing your peaked nipple, “please,” you whisper, eyes darting down to where Carlos had begun to lave lazily at your newly soaked panties.

“Please what? Huh?” He whispers, tongue darting out to push further into your throbbing hole. You whine, thighs threatening to clamp shut around his head, your hand inches down to shyly tug at his hair and guide him closer to your leaking cunt, “can’t even talk now? ‘s okay mariposa. I’ll take care of you.” He promises, laying one of your legs over his shoulder.

You breathe hitches slightly when you feel him drag his lips up your hip, only for his teeth to sink into your underwear band, trailing it off you.

You scrunch your eyes with a gasp when his kisses trail up from your ankle, to your calf and towards the inside of your thigh- you growl playfully when you hear him chuckle and coo up at you, “you were just stressed...” he pressed an open mouthed kiss to your skin, “being so diligent..” he continued, tongue ghosting over your leaking folds, “so perfect.”

“Carlos,” You moan, scratching your nails against his scalp, “you’re being mean. Hah. It’s not good to be mean to your future wi-“you cut yourself off with a scream, well, a muffled one, you managed to cover your agape mouth with your hand. He dove into your sex, tongue searing through you as he fucked the muscle steadily into you, curling it to poke gently at the sensitive, spongy part within you.

Carlos let his eyes flutter shut, the sweet taste of you staining itself onto his tongue, how he could stay like this forever, fuck the dinner, he only ever wanted to taste you. Only you.

“taste so good,” he panted against you, his tongue nudging your clit, in an oh-so delicious way that made you bite down on your fingers to stop your needy moans leaking down from the open, semi-circle window towards your in-laws, who were dedicatedly preparing your back garden to host a multitude of people.

“uh uh mariposa, quiero oír tu voz.” He reached up with one hand, tugging your palm away from your still open mouth.

“I-“you gulp heavily, trying to unscramble your mind from its mush state, “I- wan’ want more, need you to- do something please.” You bring your other leg to his shoulder, locking him between your limbs.

Carlos huffs out a laugh, biting playfully at your tender skin, he brings up one hand laying his fingers gently against your pussy lips, creating a ‘V’ to spread them wide, exposing the sensitive area to the midday warmth. And then, he spat, a fat string slowly drips from his mouth to land directly on your hole, he gawks at it with interest, his large puppy-dog eyes shining with lust.

You blush and cover your face, “come on- please? I’ve been soo good, did ever’thin you wanted.” You babbled, gyrating your hips against his face, baiting him into pleasuring you again until the delicious wave reached the crown of your skull until the tips of your toes.

“have you? You been my good girl? Hm?” He arches a brow at you, but stops you from answering when he lays his tongue flat against your clit, gently shaking his head side to side until you begin to shake and whine, “yeah, I know mi amor, se siente bien, ¿sí?” he whispers, prodding you cunt with his index finger, “you want it, don’t you?”

You hummed, eyes widening as though he had proposed all over again, “yeah, come on, please, pretty please with a- ahh,” once again, he wouldn’t let you finish your pleading, instead, he answered you with your prize, him pushing his fingers into you, your wetness dripping down into his palm and along his wrist.

Obscene squelches echoed through the bathroom, along with explicit sounds of his knuckles slapping against your skin and your high-pitched moans.

“yes- oh, don’t stop.” You sobbed, tears pricking at your eyes when he thrusted in a second finger, stretching you out whilst he crooked his digits to continue stimulating your g-spot mercilessly.

“don’t plan on it,” he promised, delving back in for another sacred taste, he tongue worked wonders against you, drinking in your nectar as though from the gods- letting in slip down his throat graciously. You groaned and bit your lip harshly, arching your back at angles that chiropractors would wince at until you could feel that euphoric feeling begin to bloom within your stomach.

Your walls fluttered around Carlos’ fingers, making him smirk against you and continue his movements, hungrily licking and slurping at you until your toes curled and eyes crossed over, “fuck,” you grit out, gasping laboriously as the tight knot finally snapped and torrential pleasure rained over you.

“te entendí my love,” He crawled over you, bracing himself above with his hands planted on the thick, white marble countertop you were currently blissed out on.

You brought your shaky hands up to his face, kissing him gently, “what about-hah, what about you,” you panted, wrapping your arms around him, continuing to softly brush your lips against his face. His temple, stubbled cheek, and muscled neck.

“We still have-“ He looked down at the heavy, silver Rolex on his wrist, “40 minutes, until Blanca comes hunting for us.” Carlos looked over to the floating bath that sat in front of the Juliet balcony, “and we have a bath.”

“That is just by a huge ass window,” You reminded him, glancing over to the open doors, revealing the intricate black grill of the balcony along with the pristine view of your tall trees that lined the well-kept entertaining space of your garden.

“Well, I doubt they don’t know what’s going on, I mean, my sister probably told them to leave a box of condoms outside.” He shrugged.

“In that case,” You started, your low whisper a mere breath of warm air between the two of you. Marinating hard and heady eye contact with him, you reached down to take his hand in yours, then slipped the two fingers that still dripped with your wetness, into your mouth.

Carlos stared at the sight, a short, strangled noise leaving him when you popped out his digits with an all too innocent noise, “Better make the most of it,” You leaned back against the mirror, hand open for him to carry you.

He groaned, shaking his head slightly before hoisting you in his arms, “best 40 minutes of my life.”

[Smut warnings : alot of kissing, fingering, sucking, love-bites, fem! oral recieving, fem! fingering recieving.]

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion available...over

📻 Kchh...Spnish..to engli..sh....over

Ay, Ay, Señor. Tienes que esperar a la luna de miel - Oh, Oh, Lord. You have to wait for the honeymoon

muy cruel - very cruel

AY, SEÑOR - OH, SIR

Si no estás aquí para aportar nada útil, sal de la cocina - If you're not here to contribute anything useful, get out of the kitchen.

mariposa - butterfly

Hola, diabla - Hello, devil

Ay mi muñeca - Oh, my doll

Si, diabla? - Yes, devil?

Mi amour - My love

Tan deliciosa - So delicious

Tan bonita - So beautifull

quiero oír tu voz - I want to hear your voice

te entendí, mi amor, se siente bien, ¿sí? - I understood you, my love, it feels good, yeah

📻 Kchhhhh.loosing sign....al.....kcchh....over and out...

[theaceace]

In the sandman comics, it's mentioned that every 100 years, Death takes a day to make herself mortal and experience what it's like to be alive, before dying at the end of the day, as a way of reminding herself what it's like to be on the other side of her function

And what if the boys happened to meet her on that day? They've only ever seen her from a distance while they were hiding, but they recognise her immediately and are sure that this is the end. They may have the Lost and Found Department's permission to stay on earth solving cases, but if Death herself says they have to go, then no-one's going to be able to stop her

But she doesn't. She doesn't try to take them, doesn't do anything except smile and give them a little wave from where she's sat in the park enjoying a coffee in the sun. Eventually, Charles storms over, ignoring Edwin's frantic protests, to demand what the hell she thinks she's playing at, taunting them like this

And I just want them to have the chance to meet Death, without any imminent threat (no matter what they think to start with) and let her talk to them. Because Death can be so, so kind in the Sandman universe and I think the boys know that. They've seen her come for enough ghosts over the years that they have to know that, and I want her to be able to hold their hands and say it's okay. You died, and it was terrible, but it's okay. You found each other, you're not alone. That's what she's there for, really, to make sure no one is alone at the end. Really, when you think about it, Edwin sort of did my job for me with you, Charles, she laughs at one point, and Edwin grips Charles' hand so tight the bones would creak, if they had bodies.

She asks them about their cases, because of course she knows what they've been up to, all this time. Life and Death can't exist without each other, so wherever you find one, you'll find the other. She's everywhere. Of course she knew. So slowly they start to open up, and they tell her about the case they're working at the moment, and how they're actually just waiting for Crystal and Jenny to finish speaking to a human witness. Death tells them a little about how she's planning to spend her day as a human (visit a museum, see a play, and a few drinks down the pub with an old friend in the evening) and finally says goodbye when Crystal and Jenny get back

And this is so, so crucial - Jenny throws up her hands as they walk over like 'who the fuck was that?? Did you manage to find another psychic in the ten minutes we were gone??' and Edwin (apparently) absent-mindedly is just like 'hm? Oh, no, that was Death' before they both walk off and leave the girls with that