#edwin paine’s mother

[emi-the-gremlin]

Controversial take (maybe?)

I think we need more of mr. Payne being the good parent, like don’t get me wrong I adore all the good Mrs. Payne fics (definitely check out that tag) but she’s the only one who’s actually been described negatively, parenting wise.

Not to mention it also just balances out the group, Charles has daddy issues, Crystal has parental issues, so therefore it stands to reason that Edwin has mommy issues, right?

[niko-sasaki-dbd]

Honestly, the ghosts can feel other ghosts theory is very well supported, and I would like to share some proof shown during the season.

In episode 1, Charles clearly felt the other ghost (the WWI soldier, Wilfred) strangling him, he also got his face covered in that black liquid after he took the cursed mask off his face.

If ghosts could be able to play the same rules with other ghosts as they do with the living, Charles could have chosen to simply pass through Wilfred and seize the knife. However, he was unable to do so.

Also, during Episode 3, when that ghost's head exploded, Charles and Edwin were covered with the pieces of his ghostly brain, so I guess, fluids are other things that have their own rules when we talk about ghost-to-ghost interaction.

Sure these are not the prettiest of examples, but they support my point just fine. And I guess, it's good information for when you're writing... All sorts of fanfiction.

[read-write-thrive]

part 1

“Waiting for the other shoe to drop”, while pessimistic, seemed to be a running theme in Charles Rowland’s life. It wasn’t really a phrase he heard when he was alive, to be fair, but at some point he’d come across it (probably hanging out with too many Americans, but can’t remember for sure) and it felt a little too much accurate. His dad’s come home angry again? Time to wait for the fallout. He’d gotten written up at school for not paying attention? Just a disaster waiting to happen. He goes against his best mate’s advice? There he goes, literally torn from Charles’s arms and back to hell, just as he’d said. Maybe the last one was a little dramatic, but that’s the gist.

The looming anxiety of it all usually slid off of him for the minor stuff, and was otherwise bottled up and shoved far away for the heavier stuff, but regardless he didn’t let it show. Have to keep up appearances and all. He’d only had one real instance of all those emotions blowing up (and he still blames the Night Nurse for all that mess) so he thought he was doing a bang-up job keeping himself together.

That was until his dad died. Yeah, it was rough, and he ended up berating the old man on his death bed, which probably was a shitty thing to do. And yeah, he’d needed a bit of a cry afterwards. So what? Blokes cried sometimes, and he was man enough to admit to his emotions and all that. The girls had done a good job of emphasising that he (and, mostly, Edwin) needed to express their emotions more. That it was healthier to let it out than bottle it all up. Not sure if they still needed healthy habits as ghosts, but it wasn’t hurting anyone. Just a little uncomfortable.

All that to say, it felt like his friends had been treading on eggshells around him ever since his dad died. Which was infuriating, yeah, but also didn’t make sense to him. Especially after he’d already cried—did they expect him to get angry again? To blow up over a dead man? He thought he’d gotten it out of his system just fine, so getting these weird vibes was starting to stress him out more than anything. He’d resolved to bring it up on their next movie night and ask why they were acting funny—didn’t want to mess up a case, after all.

However, he didn’t get the chance before it all came crashing down on his head. Ultimately, Edwin was the messenger.

“Charles, I—“ he took an unnecessary breath, “Have you checked on your mother lately?”

His undead heart went cold, but his default smiley ways were still stuck on, “Not really, why?”

Edwin’s eyes were sad, which was never good. He didn’t emote unless it was serious, “I think you need to visit her. She’s not faring well.”

And so they went. Turns out everyone hadn’t been waiting for Charles to blow up, but rather for his mother to pass and then for him to break down all over again. Edwin had been checking on her daily since his father’s passing, deducing correctly that Charles would be too swept up in the emotions around his dad dying to remember that his mum wasn’t getting any younger.

The girls weren’t free until the evening, but they promised to stay in touch and maybe visit later if they could (particularly if they could figure out how to visit the Hospice without rousing suspicion). And so Edwin and Charles were on their own.

Charles had rushed into the room, as if running at the issue would evade the emotions of it, or as if getting there quickly would reveal it was all a lie—neither of which were true.

Instead, he was face to face with a dying woman with some resemblance to the photo on the mantle in the house he grew up in—his grandmother, or maybe his great grandmother, or some favourite aunt, he couldn’t remember anymore— hair gone fully white, pulled back into a tight bun so as to keep her curls controlled, keeping her gaunt, sleeping face exposed. Unlike that photo, this woman was in a hospital gown, tucked into sterile sheets, with a tube under her nose to help her breathe. Gone were her usually loud and ornate earrings, her bare fingernails stained from years of colour. There was a singular blanket laid across her lap, on top of the sheets, that almost looked more familiar than the woman it covered. It was her, but apparently he hadn’t stopped to just look at her any time recently, if ever. It felt too much like looking at a ghost, as ironic as that felt.

She was awake, but halfway to dozing. There was someone at her side, adjusting the blanket and murmuring reassurances in what was definitely Punjabi. It had been so long since he’d heard it, added to having never properly learned anything besides English under the threat of his father, that he couldn’t make out the words. That realisation left a stinging feeling in his chest.

“A relation of yours?” Edwin asked at a whisper, coming up to stand beside Charles, almost entirely copying his position from that fateful hospital room. It didn’t seem as if either of the room’s living occupants had noticed them.

Charles blindly reached for Edwin’s hand for comfort, not looking away from the scene in front of him and matching his partner’s volume, “No idea. Don’t think I’ve seen them before.”

Edwin hummed, “Perhaps a little too young to have met you. Or someone your mother reconnected with recently—“

“I’m not really in the mood for deductions, love.” Charles said, not unkindly. Everything felt too fragile to be picked apart like that.

“Right. Apologies.” Edwin squeezed his hand and went quiet.

Charles squeezed his hand back in forgiveness, joining in the silence. He kept going back to what the stranger was saying, familiar consonants both soothing and devastating. What kind of a son was he, failing to comfort his dying mother, unable to speak her mother tongue, a stranger to his relatives? His tears were thankfully silent.

It took much longer for his mother to see them than his father. Several days passed, with the mystery relative coming and going more days than not, and the usual nurses and caregivers administering various care. Over time, the boys (the girls couldn’t figure out how to enter the space, but were supportive from their distance) had learned that the stranger’s name was Sangeeta, and she was a niece of his mother’s who’d noticed her steady decline and was the one to take her to hospital and then to hospice care. Charles’s mother had apparently stopped taking care of herself after her husband’s death, and she had refused other care, so at this point all they could do was make her comfortable. Charles spent a whole morning ranting to Edwin about it, how unfair it was that her life was so tied up in his asshole father’s that she wasn’t even trying to live after he was gone. Edwin, the deeply kind person he was, had let Charles rant until he ran out of steam, then gently pointed out that she’d been under the thumb of his father for far longer than Charles was, and that she’d now had to mourn her husband and her only child, which presumably takes a toll. Charles had started crying before Edwin had even finished talking, and Edwin had held him close on the plush sofa for the rest of the day.

It was hard to tell if it was a comfort or not when she finally saw them, but Charles decided that wasn’t important to think about right now, if ever. Right now, his mother could see him for the first time in forty years, and they didn’t know for how much longer. And yet, with all this time to prepare, he still found himself speechless when the time finally came.

“Mere laal,” She beat him to the punch, eyes glazed over but clearly locked on Charles, “I am glad to see you again, beta. It’s been so long.”

Charles let out a shakey breath, “Hi, mum. It’s—well— it’s been longer for you. I’ve visited a few times, over the years.”

She reached out a sinewy hand on a bone-thin arm, and Charles flew to the seat by her side, keeping his focus to make sure his hand stayed solid in her grasp. He vaguely noticed Edwin taking the seat beside him.

“Such a handsome boy. You were so young.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

Charles, all anxious energy and nerves, tears of his own threatening to spill, was quick to respond, “It’s alright, mum, I’m alright. No need to cry over me.”

She huffed, “Nonsense. You were the light of my life. Who else should I cry over?”

They were both crying at this point, tears streaming as they sniffled in turns. Edwin laid a careful hand on Charles’s back in a show of comfort.

However, that seemed to give Charles an idea, “No, really mum, it’s okay! See the bloke next to me? His name’s Edwin, and he’s been by my side all these years! He’s the one who first found me, and we’ve been helping people ever since. It’s been aces. Not sad one bit.”

Edwin stiffened at the mention, then all but froze when her eyes turned to him. He knew he looked night and day from Charles, and if he started talking she was bound to find him as abrasive as everyone always did, so why had Charles pointed him out!? If ghosts could sweat, Edwin would be drowning in his nerves.

Her gaze stayed on him for a long moment before she broke the silence, “He’s been good to you? Not like those other boys.”

Edwin wasn’t sure what to do with that, but thankfully Charles was quick on the uptake, “Not like them at all. He’s— he’s the best, mum. None of those tossers could even compare.”

“Because the boys— the ones who—“

Charles gripped her hand, “I know, I know. He’s a genuinely good person, Edwin. I was bad at picking friends in life, but thankfully I chose well with this one.”

His attempt at joking was overlooked completely by her, “Those boys, how could they do that? I knew their families, John Parish’s mother went to your funeral… Such cruel boys…”

“I’m alright, mum, I’m okay.” Charles kept going, smiling even as the tears continued, “It’s all in the past.”

“I should’ve fought harder for you… kept you close… mere laal, taken from me…” She was sobbing, her whole frame shaking with hiccoughs.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Charles took a steadying breath, “You know I couldn’t have stayed in that house, mum. And no one could’ve known those lads would go that far…”

Her sobs were worse for a moment, then stilled suddenly as she fought for oxygen. She coughed weakly.

At that, Charles’s crying intensified, despite all he did to keep himself together. He could tell. He knew what was coming. It was still devastating to see. Edwin pulled him in for a proper side hug, taking care not to jostle his grip on his mum.

This did not go unnoticed, and the dying woman suddenly smiled, as if the devastation was forgotten with the oxygen. She looked back to her son, “I am glad you have been happy, beta. You deserved happiness.”

“I’m happy, I’ve been so happy mum, I promise,” Charles tried to calm himself down, stuck in his reassuring her.

“Mere laal, light of my life, darling boy,” She breathed with difficulty, smile dropping, “Can you forgive me? I failed you…”

Charles’s frame shook with his vigorous nodding, “I forgive you, mum, you did the best you could, I love you so much—“

Her weak smile returned, glinting in the lamplight of the evening room, “Thank you, beta. You were too good for me, for this world…”

“All because of you, I swear it, all thanks to you—“

“Charles.”

“I love you, I’m sorry I wasn’t a better son, I’m could’ve been better, gotten you out of that house—“

“Charles, darling.”

“You deserved better, I love you, I forgive you—“

“My love, the light—“

Edwin was right, a deep blue light had filled the space, illuminating the still body of his mother. Her face was pulled into a slight smile, eyes closed, as if she was having a pleasant dream, even as the tear tracks dried on her cheeks.

“No, no I’m not ready—“ Charles immediately started to protest, gripping onto her hand like a lifeline.

“Charles—“

“I only just got to see her! She only just got free of him! No, no, I won’t—“

Edwin gently but solidly grabbed under Charles’s arms, “I’m sorry my love but we should go—“

Charles was nothing but hysterics by this point, head thudding onto the sheets for a moment before Edwin fully pulled him away. He said more, but Charles was too overwhelmed to process it properly, buzzing in his ears and headache behind his eyes making him feel alive in all the worst ways. Maybe it was just the first time he had cried this hard in his afterlife, or maybe being this close to an active death did something to their physiology—

Everything was a blur as they returned to the flat, Edwin all but carrying him through the mirror so that he wouldn’t get lost on the way. They collapsed onto the sofa, extra large cushions taken up by their ghostly presences. The girls were already there, and joined into the cuddle pile without another word (or perhaps with a few, Charles still wasn’t all there yet). Edwin jostled them all slightly to better position everyone before settling in again, making sure Charles was properly surrounded.

Charles sobbed for a while longer. He wasn’t quite sure for how long, or what day it was, or if he was bothering his friends by taking up their time and space like this. His devastation had seemed to take over his entire being. But, when he did breathe a little easier, when he was finally able to sit up, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. His mom was dead, yes, but so was he, and dying had granted them both freedom from that man, from that house, from the cruelties of the world. And in his death he was surrounded by people who loved him, people who were there for him when he needed them and would still be there for him tomorrow, and the next, and the next. The other shoe had dropped, and it certainly hurt, but thankfully he had people around him to help him through it. He was truly lucky to have them.

~

hope you enjoyed this impromptu series exploring Charles and his parents and grief and loss and all those lovely things. this was inspired by the complicated emotions I have / had after my grandparents passing, and I heavily encourage you to do something similar if you’re ever struggling with these big emotions—therapists and such will say that journaling is where it’s at, but sometimes it’s easier to project onto fictional characters and that’s ok !!! and, just to drive the point home, I want to reiterate that you are loved, and there are people around you who are there to support you, I promise ❤️

also, just to make it abundantly clear, I’m a v white midwestern american and as such have vvv limited knowledge of cultural aspects of Charles’s mom—I did research and tried my best, but if I screwed anything up PLEASE let me know so I can fix it!!!!! same goes for Britishisms ig but mostly looking for feedback on her Punjabi and her various cultural elements :)

[wetfloor-sign09]

MOTHER IS MOTHERING

[t0byaa]

Just rewatched the 4th ep of dbd but with my family this time and when Charles and Crystal kissed my sister surprisedly yelled that she thought Charles was gay the whole time 😭😭 and when i told her that i think it's funny how he gets jealous every time Edwin interacts with a guy my mom said that it's because he's totally bisexual

like they both clocked him so fast ✋✋

getting my sister on the payneland train fr fr

[ticktockheartstop]

Happy Mother’s Day to my mom, who I appreciate for watching every show I recommend (including, most recently, Dead Boy Detectives) so that we can talk about it and do our part to get it renewed

[pippin-katz]

Edwin's Parents Canonically Did Not Hug Him

I was watching interviews of the boys for a post I'm working on, and fucking excuse me?!

Source: Advocate Channel Interview, Timestamp 3:17

We have confirmation from George that Edwin's parents did not hug him while he was alive. It's due much more to the time period rather than neglectful parenting, but that is still crazy to think about. He also says "parents", meaning both his father and his mother; neither of them gave him any kind of physical affection.

The repressive time period causing Edwin's parents to be very emotionally absent from his life is not a new concept, and it gets brought up in varying intensities in fanfics I've read, but it always felt like a fuzzy, floating concept based on speculation heavily supported by probability. I knew it was an accurate assumption, but I couldn't reach out and touch it, if that makes any sense. Now, it's concrete in my mind.

It gives this scene even more weight:

Edwin's expressions, while already perfectly understandable, make even more sense. The way he's seemingly pained by the embrace at first. He did not even realize how badly he needed and wanted this kind of affection.

There is such a strong surge of pure joy, comfort, and love from the hug that it hurts him, because he realizes in that moment what he's been deprived of his entire life and existence. Edwin has existed for over a hundred years, and even though it's hard to believe, they've never hugged each other like this in the thirty years they've been together. I don't think I could ever confidently say that they never hugged, ever, in thirty years, especially given how physical Charles is with his affection.

But that expression on Edwin's face in undeniable.

George says earlier in video that Edwin "lacks the skill set to keep up" with all of the new emotions he's experiencing, and you can feel that in the way his face changes.

Edwin hugs him back, and lets out a big breath, relieved and satisfied by the embrace. The wave of emotions passes as he realizes that even if he overwhelmed and terrified by the love he's feeling, it feels good to hug Charles. He realizes that he wants to hug Charles, that he's allowed to want to hug Charles, and that he actually can hug Charles.

God, the amount of emotions Edwin has in that moment that he's completely unequipped for, simply because he's never experienced it, not even from the people closest to him in life. It's heartbreaking, but seeing him learning how it feels to be loved for the first time is so beautiful.

Edwin, the character that you are... George Rexstrew, the actor that you are... 😔🩵

(ko-fi)

[alltimefail]

Random thought that could could absolutely be nothing, an over-analyzation of sorts even, but I have always found it interesting that in the Devlin house episode Charles gets sucked into the loop starting from the point he snaps at Edwin about him "Not being the all-knowing expert on all things." It's especially interesting to me because after he does so, Edwin tells Charles that he's "...Not acting like himself at all."

In theory, Charles could have just reappeared when Mr. Devlin turns the corner or when he approaches Mr. Devlin here:

because if the point of repetition here is to show us that the abuse Charles suffered at the hands of his own father is what causes him to get trapped in the loop, either of those moments would have been sufficient in supporting that idea. The dialogue shared beforehand between him and Edwin has little to do with the point at hand...unless...

Charles feeling pain about his own father isn't the whole sum of why he gets trapped in the loop; his fear that he's just LIKE his father, that he's not a good person, that he's "Cruel for the shits," and capable of hurting the people he loves (and thus undeserving of their love) is also what traps him in the loop, and that's why his "loop" starts with him snapping at Edwin.

Even though we as viewers can empathize with and understand why Charles snaps at Edwin given the circumstances, it's very unlikely that Charles extends that same grace to himself. I would argue that we see the multi-faceted layers of his trauma explored in various ways from this moment on. Charles himself even later admits that all he feels is anger despite the fact that he wants to be "a good guy." Charles has yet to understand that it's possible to be good and feel anger, that anger in and of itself is not bad, and that feeling strong negative emotions like grief or anger does not make a person dangerous or abusive like his father was...nor does it guarantee that he would use his anger to harm others. So, with that in mind, of course Charles' loop would start with him lashing out at Edwin, as opposed to it just starting with him lashing out at Brandon Devlin; it's not just about feeling powerless to stop the abuse, it's about feeling like you play a role in it. It's about the deep-rooted fear that maybe you actually deserved the abuse you suffered because you are not good, and just by being related to an abuser you are damned to be just like them, or worse. Charles worries about who he truly is, deep down, and that maybe Edwin is wrong when he says that Charles isn't acting like himself: maybe the darkest parts that he works so hard to bury are actually who he truly is, and his ability to throw careless, harmful, biting words at someone he loves deeper than anyone else may be a reflection of this. After all, his father loved his mother, he loved Charles, and look what he did to them... how he hurt them beyond repair. What if he is the same?

OR: the trauma Charles deals with isn't only the violence his father enacted on him (shown through what Brandon Devlin does to his family), but it's also the violence he feels capable of enacting himself (shown through his ability to throw harsh words toward Edwin who Charles openly claims is the "most important person in the world" to him).

What furthered this idea even more for me (and added a bit of salt to the wound frankly) was Crystal and Edwin's reactions to Charles being pulled into the loop. Out of shock, confusion, and frustration Crystal immediately turns to Edwin for answers but for a moment he is just frantic and uncharacteristically frazzled, only able to say, "Charles was right, I don't know everything..." and OUCH, right? But it emphasizes that 1) what Charles said to Edwin was quite hurtful, 2) that it did have an (unintentional) impact on Edwin, and 3) that Charles himself very well might have realized it was hurtful as soon as it left his mouth thus, again, why it would make sense that his loop began there.

It takes a strong emotional reaction to be pulled into a loop; the possibly that this moment was written to work on two levels of Charles' inner turmoil is quite clever (and extremely heartbreaking).

Again, it could absolutely be nothing... but it's worth pondering!!

[landedinpayne]

in case you are in the mood to feel devastated here’s an alternate way of viewing charles’ response to edwin’s confession:

we know that charles kinda puts edwin on a pedestal- yes they are partners but there is a bit of a hierarchy between them. charles just looks up to and admires edwin in so many ways while constantly looking down on and being really hard on himself. he puts on his big happy persona because he thinks that people wouldn’t like him if they actually got to know him.

so when edwin confesses, it’s like a blow to him. he took his charming persona too far and went and tricked the most important person in the world into thinking he was worthy of love. and it’s worse because he does love edwin in that way, which is exactly why he can’t let him know that. charles still believes that he is like his dad, and he saw exactly what his parents’ relationship did to his mother.

he thinks that loving edwin in the way that he wants to would only cause more pain to this boy who has already been through far more than he deserves. so he blinks back his tears, attempts the same charming smile he’s used all these years, and dishes out the gentlest non-rejection in the history of forever

[gunsandspaceships]

Tony’s Childhood. Part 1: Identifying facts

In the MCU, Tony sometimes acts like a kid. There is a reason behind every behavior, so I wondered what it was like for him when he was a real kid.

So, the questions of the day: what do we know about Tony's childhood? Did he have one? And, most importantly, how did it affect him?

Let’s first list what we know from the movies:

At age 4 Tony built his first circuit board (IM1)

At age 6 built his first engine (IM1)

Was sent to a boarding school by Howard (IM2)

Cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a dare (AoU)

Had a nanny until the age of 14 (IM3)

Went to college at 14 (IM1)

Built Dum-E and U when he was there (IM1)

At 17 graduated summa cum laude from MIT (IM1)

Continued his education until his parents’ death (CW)

Tony’s genius gave him two things: the brain and the pain. And by the pain, I mean that instead of interacting and bonding with his parents, enjoying life, playing, having fun, making friends, taking care of pets, and all the other things children do to gradually prepare for adulthood and grow up "healthy", he got this list of achievements. That doesn’t make a person normal.

Parents

We know his relationship with Howard was complicated. Howard loved him in his own way. He had too many things to do to be a good father: SI, S.H.I.E.L.D., scientific projects, trying to build a better future with clean energy, etc. All good, except when you want your child to love you back. Especially if in the tiny amount of time you spend with him, you don’t show him any signs of affection.

What do we know about Maria? Her name, what she looked like, that she played the piano, and died at Winter Soldier’s hand on Dec 16, 1991. That’s it. She didn’t spend much time with Tony either. Remember, he even had a nanny, instead of a mother. Tony's words about her showed that he loved her, but he didn't talk much about her. Because she wasn’t present in his life enough. Why? Because…

School

Howard sent Tony to a boarding school.

Here’s in the S.H.I.E.L.D.s file we have this information about the school:

“Phillips Academy, Andover, MA 1977-1984”

This means he was there from age 7 to 14. Howard sent him to a boarding school when he was SEVEN.

Phillips Academy Andover serves grades 9-12 only (it is a college preparatory school). Thus, either this is a mistake by the creators of the film/file, or Tony, due to his genius, became an exception. Since the early age he was already at school was also mentioned in IM2 tie-in comics, and in Earth-616 that was also 7, we can mark 1977-1984 as valid.

Think about it again: Tony was sent to boarding school in another state when he was 7 years old. He spent another 7 years there, alone, among high school-aged teenagers. No parents around, no peers.

For example, even Hogwarts accepts 11-year-old children, and they live with their peers. Now imagine Harry Potter, at the age of 7, is thrown into a dorm with 7th-year students and locked there. Doesn’t make a person normal either, does it?

Nannies and Jarvis

Since Tony was at the boarding school, there are two options for how he could have a nanny (mentioned in IM3) and spend time with Edwin Jarvis:

1) He was at the boarding school with a nanny. There is almost no possibility that the nanny was Edwin Jarvis because Jarvis was Howard’s butler and had other responsibilities.

2) He had a nanny at home in the summer and during short school breaks. In this case, his parents couldn’t even give him this little of their precious time.

In any case, he could only see Jarvis at home, a few months a year at most.

Note: There is a date error in IM3, stating Tony was 14 in 1983. This is clearly an error and we can omit this detail.

Bullying

Remember this dialog between Tony and Harley in IM3?

0:45:15 – Harley asks him how he knew he was being bullied at school. Tony doesn't answer. He gives him a non-lethal flash thing to "discourage bullying."

We see that Tony knew exactly what was going on with Harley at school. Because that’s exactly what happened to him there. Harley reminded him of himself. Brilliant kid with no friends and practically no parents. He was bullied by 9th-12th graders.

If he had a nanny with him at the school, that probably made things even worse. He would be bullied because he has a nanny, and despite he has one to look after him.

In Part 2 we will discuss how all this affected him. Stay tuned.

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Yet Another Dead Boy Detective Fic Rec List

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I've been having so much fun with these, so I've decided to make another! See above for links to my other fic rec lists. ♥️

Like We're Gonna Die Young (Again) by RoseGanymede95

The latest installment in the superb Codependency World Cup series has the boys attend a nefarious house party and grapple with old frenemies, 90s fashion and temporary amnesia. Also fleshes out their achingly sad backstories, but compensates with the triumphant return of Pierre the rabbit.

When I Picture You by Gruoch

Charles gets braceleted by the Cat King instead of Edwin and receives his heart's desire... being alive again. This author has a special gift for taking fun sounding premises and turning the angst up to 11. So excellent.

young blood (never get chained) by ghostinthelibrary

University AU in which half-demon Charles intervenes in Edwin's ritual sacrifice and inadvertently binds their souls together... I'm genuinely obsessed with this AU, it has so much potential for tons of delicious tropes. Human!Edwin getting a crash course in supernatural shenanigans! Soulmate vibes!Found Family! Demon lore! What's not to love??

Ghosts and Monsters by justafandomfollower

Charles is also sacrificed and the boys meet in Hell! Fantastic premise and executed really well. I loved Masterful Edwin taking charge and protecting Charles while inwardly despairing. Highly recommended.

back to back they faced each other by ShanaStoryteller

The Night Nurse has a theory about how Charles was able to rescue Edwin from Hell so quickly... I'm genuinely shocked I haven't recced this one already. Sorry guys, I forgor. Anyway, this has interesting "Guardian" (angel?) lore, great meta and we even get some temporary amnesia as a treat.

boyfriend jacket by skadii

5+1 times Edwin borrowed Charles' jacket. The characterisation is on point, and it has some great OCs (Kyle the snarky seeing-eye cat!) and really sweet payneland moments. Plus Charles' jacket doing its most to annoy the Cat King.

Looking Like the Sunrise by letters_of_stars

Edwin thinks he's cursed so he and Crystal must team up to solve the case of his Mysterious and Suddenly Appearing Rizz. Funny and sweet friendship fic with some quality Edwin-Crystal bonding and discussions of trauma.

The Case of the Anonymous Confession by Mayarenerose

College AU featuring Charles posting an 'anonymous' online confession about his complicated feelings for his bestie. The closet is glass, but Edwin is oblivious and Crystal is in pain. Cute and funny epistolary social media fic done really well.

the middle of something wonderful by KiaraSayre

Does what it says on the tin and gives us a trope salad of cosy vignettes, including a time loop, temporary amnesia, sudden corporality and Crystal and Edwin trying to get a good grade in Party. Wholesome.

My heart is like a haunted house (series) by halffulljampot

Charles (unknowingly) befriends the ghost of Edwin's mother and constantly gushes to her about his amazing best friend/boyfriend. Beatrice is a great OC and it's just nice (though extra tragic) to read a fic in which Edwin had loving parents. Read it for Family Feels and wholesome intergenerational friendship.

the first rule of fight club by e_va

The boys are captured by an evil underground fighting ring. The fic is from Charles' PoV, so the prospect of having to fight Edwin was especially stomach-churning. Still, we get Edwin being a badass and a brilliant surprise cameo I don't want to spoil.

The Case of The... by sophisticatedyet

Edwin borrows Niko's negligee and Charles' brain breaks. There's also a case and giant squids, but Charles' Distracted By The Sexy crisis is the main (hilarious) event.

in those heavy days when love became an act of defiance by aletterinthenameofsanity, JUBE514

Daemon AU and first meeting fic! Loved the worldbuilding, insightful character work and lovely use of Greek mythology. Honestly, this fandom needs more daemon AUs.

spinning around and around in an ocean of grief (your ladder came down to the sea) by Ingi

Prequel to DontOffendTheBees' excellent College AU, expanding on the boys being alive and in school together. Also has its own prequel about their first meeting from Edwin's point of view. This one, though, is a Charles' Bisexual Journey/Feelings Realization fic. So lovely.

head in the clouds but my gravity's centered by shadowquill17

Face Touching: The Fic. I just love non-sexual intimacy in fics and this one is so tender. I also love Accidental Kissing and Feelings Realization so my cup runneth over.

i don't want to rest in peace by handwrittenhello

Different First Meeting fic featuring Poltergeist Charles! Loved the concept, even though it made me sad.

the great snogging debacle of '95 by thatgayprince

Edwin disguises himself as a girl and Charles starts and then defers a sexuality crisis for 30 years. Funny, steamy and emotional.

a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches

The agency take on the case of a depressed house. This is another bittersweet Edwin backstory fic with discussions of grief.

Smitten in the Stacks by cordelianoir

Adorable prequel to lolotr's equally adorable library AU. Meet cute featuring (platonically married) Dad!Charles crushing on the hot librarian who leads Children's Storytime.

Jenny Green: Butcher, Hot Mess, Reluctant Queer Elder by Money_Maker

Jenny-centric fic! The focus is on Jenny and her financial, mental and emotional struggles post-canon, but mentoring Edwin through his queer self-discovery becomes a big part of that. This turns into a really sweet friendship, plus Found Family Feels and some fun outsider PoV of the boys' dynamic.

I've always got more recs so watch this space! ❤️

[greyskyflowers]

I have a lot of half thoughts about the hell scenes so I'm just going to ramble them out on here and hope they're semi coherent.

1.) I think it's so interesting that Edwin screamed for Charles while he was being taken to hell.

I would bet that Edwin cried for someone his his first trip down to hell too.

I really can't think of who he would have called for specifically. His parents? Maybe. I do think that there's something in everyone that wants the comfort of their mother when they're truely terrified but it doesn't seem like Edwin would have screamed for them. That goes for any siblings too.

He certainly didn't seem to have any friends that he could have cried for. Doesn't necessarily strike me as the type to be close to God but this situation would make a holy man out of anyone. Maybe he just called for every name that crossed his mind. Family, grade school friends, neighbors, teachers, etc.

Regardless, even if he had screamed for them, what would they have done? Who would have answered?

No one. No one answered. No one came. They were never coming.

He was completely alone.

He does scream for Charles though. Charles will always respond. Charles will always come get him.

I dont know, just seems like he screamed this time because he knew someone was listening. He said a name because he knew that person would come.

2.) I wonder if a very small, little sliver of Charles hated Crystal for just a split second when he found Edwin in hell and realized what exactly happens to him down there.

Crystal was very brave to want to come and that's important, she cares and wanted to help. I think that means a lot to Charles and Edwin.

However, she pushed back after she was told no, and that humans couldn't go to hell.

She argued with Charles and it might have been just a few minutes but how many times did Edwin get ripped apart in those few minutes?

That awful pile in the corner says many times.

3.) I'm curious what Edwin being taken back to hell would have looked like if we had followed him instead of staying with Charles.

Did the spider demon wait until it got to those horrid hallways before starting to chase?

Did it throw Edwin in there and muscle memory had him take off running the second his bare feet hit the ground? The demon already behind him and catching up quick.

Was he torn apart and back before he even knew what happened? How many times did it take before it hit him that he's really back?

This particular ones gets me. The idea that he was still in shock from being taken, was killed and back again while still trying to figure out what was even happening is heartbreaking.

If Edwin was torn apart and back before he even realized it, maybe that means it was a quick first death. Maybe the demon spider was too excited to have it's toy back.

I guess when the realization would have hit him that this was real, that he had already started the loop of runhurtagainrunhurtagain, that's what gets me.

Also, how familiar it probably was. How horrible to be so familiar with a certain type of pain that it would have immediately brushed aside all the scattered and chaotic thoughts in his head and narrowed it down to, he's back.

4.) Charles held it together pretty well in hell. Especially because I feel like he was probably furious. Everything in the past few days has been adding to his anger and what's a great way to piss him off even when he's not in a bad mood? Fucking around with Edwin.

The night nurse has made a liar out of him. She called that awful thing to Edwin, as accidental as it might have been, and it took him.

Charles promised that Edwin would not go back to hell. He said he was going to fight whoever and whatever he needed to in order to keep them together and Edwin out of hell.

Edwin is in hell. They're not together anymore.

It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that Charles wasn't able to do anything.

He has broken two promises in the seconds it took the demon spider to grab Edwin and disappear.

When he finds Edwin the second time and he gets the run down of what really happens here, he did this thing while Edwin's hand is still over his mouth where he kind of closes his eyes and nods a few times.

It's like he's telling himself to pull it together. Trying to passively take in the information and doing the equivalent of taking a few deep breathes while incredibly anxious or stressed and forcing yourself to focus on specific things one at a time.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

Swallow it all down, all the devastation and fury and fear.

Edwin needs him to be okay and calm because Edwin is absolutely not okay and not calm.

So even though Charles is probably feeling a lot things right now, he swallows it down and says Okay. Let's get you out of here.

Charles is a fixer. He's a protecter. He's a fighter.

He can do none of those things right now. Not really. The only thing he can really do is give Edwin enough hope to run though hell with him.

Add in the later stuff with Esther and Charles has got to be thinking 'how many times do we have to go through this before everyone gets the message and backs the fuck off?'

[coloursflyaway]

Kiss You Better

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.100

Read on AO3

The first time Charles kisses him, it wipes Edwin’s mind clean like nothing else ever has. No case, not Hell, no amount of exhilaration or fear or devastation, none of it compares to the moment their lips meet, nothing even comes close. They have been talking about… something, Edwin cannot even remember the topic, and Charles gets a look on his eyes that he has never seen before, something far away and yet so aware, and one second, Edwin is talking and the next, there are lips pressed against his, soft and warm and tender. Charles kisses him and it’s like Edwin is finding a new home in his lips, a new purpose in the hand Charles raises to cup his cheek, a new, yet familiar destiny in the little sigh he breathes into Edwin’s mouth; a kiss of life.

10 times Edwin thinks Charles is kissing him to figure out if he loves him, and one time he knows better.

The first time Charles kisses him, it wipes Edwin’s mind clean like nothing else ever has.

No case, not Hell, no amount of exhilaration or fear or devastation, none of it compares to the moment their lips meet, nothing even comes close. They have been talking about… something, Edwin cannot even remember the topic, and Charles gets a look on his eyes that he has never seen before, something far away and yet so aware, and one second, Edwin is talking and the next, there are lips pressed against his, soft and warm and tender.

Charles kisses him and it’s like Edwin is finding a new home in his lips, a new purpose in the hand Charles raises to cup his cheek, a new, yet familiar destiny in the little sigh he breathes into Edwin’s mouth; a kiss of life.

The kiss doesn’t last long, only a few seconds, but Edwin’s mind is swept clean after it, nothing left in it but the feeling of Charles’ lips.

“I could feel that”, Charles mutters and his eyes flutter open, dark and beautiful under his long lashes, “Like, all of it. Maybe I should have tried that out ages ago. Could have helped with figuring things out, huh?”

And he smiles, and through the exhilaration, the love that is making Edwin’s chest feel tight, something peeks through that hurts. It takes a moment, or two, or maybe even three, until Edwin can identify it, because his brain is still so slow, so overwhelmed, until he can identify it: try it out, Charles has said.

Of course.

It makes sense, because Charles said he would figure things out, and he has always been more action-based that Edwin, hasn’t he? So this would be how he would figure things out, by trying them. Trying Edwin.

And of course it hurts, because that means that the kiss hasn’t meant to Charles what it has meant to Edwin – hasn’t wiped his mind clean, hasn’t tilted the world off its axis, hasn’t changed his life so far to make room for this instead – but at the same time, it means Charles is taking this seriously. That he is truly considering it, Edwin, them, and that is worth the hint of pain that goes along with Edwin’s tingling lips, his blurred minds.

He can take this, of course he can; he’ll just hope that in the end, Charles will realise that it is what he wants, too.

The second time Charles kisses him is on the same day still, and it’s quick and it’s sweet and Edwin feels like in one of the old movies that his mother never wanted him to watch, like he is about to swoon. Because they are about to walk through their mirror to interview a witness, but before Edwin can step into it, Charles reaches out and grasps his wrist, pulls him back and into him, their lips colliding in the middle.

“For good luck”, Charles tells him with a grin when he pulls back, and Edwin aches, Edwin craves, Edwin wants to press back against him and ask for another kiss, for a thousand more.

He doesn’t, but if he stumbles over his words later when talking to their witness, that’s the reason why.

The third time Charles kisses him is late at night and everything around them is quiet, making it easy to forget about the rest of the world that isn’t part of their little bubble of warmth. The day had been like so many before, filled with running and chasing leads, with Charles being unfairly handsome, gripping his cricket bat tightly, giving it a twirl as he stepped between Edwin and a warlock, even if the man hadn’t even attempted to threaten them in the end.

Which hadn’t changed anything about the fact that Edwin had felt his lips tingle, his heart swell in his chest, that he had wanted to rush over and kiss Charles senseless for his efforts. The only thing that had stopped him had been the knowledge that it wouldn’t have been the reward for Charles that Edwin wanted it to be, instead just a slice of wish fulfilment on Edwin’s part.

What had been a reward for both of them was curling up on the sofa once they got back to the agency, after Crystal had gone home, Charles putting on some music and Edwin picking up a book he had been saving for some time. It had been… domestic, for the lack of a better word, and Edwin would have been happy for the day to end just like this, but then Charles had put his feet into Edwin’ lap, and Edwin would have been even happier to let the day end like that. He had even take a bit of a liberty and put his hand on the instep of Charles’ foot, fingers circling his ankle easily. Two, or maybe three times, he had done this before, but that didn’t take the thrill of it away the slightest.

Only that then, that now, Charles is looking at him and Edwin can feel his gaze like a physical touch and there is no way he can focus on the words written down in front of him anymore.

“What is it?”, he asks and when he looks over at Charles, Charles is already looking back, as expected, but he’s smiling, too.

“Nothing, really”, he replies, and it’s a lie, quite obviously. Why else would Charles just watch him? “It’s just…”

And he surges up and kisses Edwin square on the lips, like it is the easiest thing in the world, like it’s nothing he even has to think about. It works, but only because Edwin is thinking enough about it for the both of them.

The fourth time Charles kisses him, Edwin can see it coming and is still woefully unprepared for it.

They are out on a walk, which is something they don’t do nearly enough, but the weather is lovely, the sun is shining and the birds are singing, and Charles asked that they go to St. James’ Park to enjoy the sunshine, the myriad of flowers blooming. Even if it isn’t, and Edwin should just stop thinking about it, it feels like a date.

And it’s beautiful.

At some point, Charles even links their arms together, as if walking next to each other wasn’t close enough, and Edwin has to do his best not to sigh at it, not too commit the feeling to memory for the rest of his existence.

“I really like this”, Charles says, but doesn’t specify what it is he means; does he like the sun or the new leaves sprouting around them or Edwin’s presence here with him? Edwin hopes it’s all of the above and yet cannot be certain. “Feels like this is what spring is supposed to be like, doesn’t it?”

It doesn’t, because that makes no sense, since spring isn’t supposed to feel like anything in particular, but Edwin finds himself nodding anyway, because Charles looks happy, and maybe that is what spring is supposed to be like. Being close to the one you love and watching them smile.

“You know, I never-”, Charles starts again but never finishes, “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Anyway.”

And he looks over at Edwin, who can’t figure out why it is, but who knows even before Charles uses the hold he has on his arm to pull him closer.

The sun is making his eyes sparkle in ways Edwin has never seen this close up before, his lips look soft, look supple, and there is a moment, just one, in which Edwin feels pain, because it’s everything he wants and yet not all of it; then he feels nothing but Charles’ lips on his.

The fifth time Charles kisses him is because of nothing at all.

Crystal is nearby, looking through their collection of artefacts, occasionally asking a poignant question, occasionally asking a rather stupid one, and Edwin has been trying to hide the more valuable specimens from her. Not because he doesn’t trust Crystal, of course, just because of normal, human precaution.

At least until Charles catches his hand and pulls him away from the shelves, a smile on his lips that is prettier than most art Edwin has seen, and kisses him. It’s gentle and over within a second or two, and afterwards, when Edwin is still reeling from the fact that Charles kissed him almost in front of Crystal (and shouldn’t he still want to kiss her? Whatever happened with that and how did Edwin forget about it so completely until now?), Charles winks at him.

“She’s not gonna break anything, you know?”, he tells Edwin, his voice low enough that it’s only for Edwin to hear, and if he still had half a mind left, he’d try and protest about being found out like this. “But maybe do hide the crystal ball we got in 1997. I would really hate losing that. You know. Just in case.”

The sixth time Charles kisses him is on a case, which is highly inappropriate and Edwin should tell Charles that it is neither the time, nor the place, but the thing is that it has been two days since he last has been kissed and when Charles takes his face into his long-fingered, elegant hands, Edwin doesn’t feel anything but grateful.

There is chaos around them, but Charles kisses him like he means it, his thumbs on Edwin’s cheekbones and his body shielding him from everything, and Edwin melts into this, into his lips and his touch and the love he already holds for Edwin and the one Edwin hopes he will one day.

“We’ll get out of this somehow”, Charles tells him after he has pulled away, and he at least seems to believe it, and that’s enough for Edwin. “I promise. I’ll get us out.”

Edwin nods, and Charles gives him a smile, and although they are in post-mortal peril, the almost only thing Edwin can think about is that he wants to kiss Charles again and again and again.

And maybe, he won’t be able to take this after all.

The seventh time, they are back at the agency, tired in a way only the non-corporeal can be, and Charles drags him to the sofa where they collapse into each other.

“What a fucking shit show today was”, Charles sighs; his hand finds Edwin’s head and guides him down until he is lying in Charles’ lap, a new perspective on the world that would leave Edwin breathless if he was still breathing. Charles’ fingers card through his hair, mussing it up impossibly, and Edwin never wants to move again. “The next time I suggest taking directions from a siren, please remind me to… just not do that, okay?”

Edwin stares up at him, only half comprehending what Charles is saying, and maybe he is missing his cue, because Charles looks down with a lopsided grin and the faintest hint of worry in his eyes, and Edwin… Edwin would do anything for him.

“You okay?”, Charles asks and his fingers are still playing with Edwin’s hair, like he is not even noticing it. “You haven’t said I told you so once.”

“I am perfectly adequate”, he manages to say, but God, it is hard to have a single thought when Charles is so close, looking at him so fondly. “I did not expect you to miss my admonishments.”

That gets a chuckle, one that Edwin will think about for decades, and then Charles leans down and presses a kiss to Edwin’s forehead.

It feels so innocent and yet makes Edwin think of things that are as far from it as they could be, of Charles lips and kisses and fingertips on every part of his body.

“I miss everything you don’t say to me”, Charles says, lips still brushing across Edwin’s skin, and suddenly, Edwin isn’t thinking about anything anymore at all.

The eighth time Charles kisses him, it’s like nothing before, because Charles plucks the book Edwin is reading out of his hands, but before Edwin can protest, Charles has slipped into lap, and the book is completely forgotten.

Even if he cannot feel the fabric of Charles’ jacket, Edwin can feel how solid Charles is, bracketing his body with his thighs, the pressure keeping him grounded, safe. It’s like a memory of a sensation that is happening right now, only interrupted wherever it is their skin touches: Charles’ fingertips brushing against the side of his throat, his other hand on the nape of Edwin’s neck.

“Tell me if this is too much”, Charles tells him, his eyes and lips and smile so close, and Edwin nods, although he isn’t sure how any of this could be too much, not to him.

And then Charles kisses him, open-mouthed and yet sweetly, licking between Edwin’s lips like he is trying to drink down the very essence of him. The hand he has half buried in Edwin’s hair slides around to find his jaw instead, cradling it, while the other smooths down his chest, following the lapel of his suit, and Edwin has never been kissed like this and now that he knows how it feels like, he’s not sure if he can go without it again.

Even if he doesn’t know how to kiss Charles back in a way that is worthy of what he is receiving, he parts his lips and lets Charles nip at them, gasps into the space between them and wraps his arms around Charles’s waist to keep him close, keep him closer.

Charles rises on his knees, surging up as his second hand joins the first, holding Edwin’s face between them like he did in Hell, and Edwin loves him so much it threatens to drown him, just like Charles’ kisses.

“Not too much then?”, Charles asks against his lips and he’s breathless, he’s laughing, and Edwin’s arms tighten around him before he knows he is moving. It feels like a fever, having Charles close like this.

“No”, he replies, even if he isn’t sure how he is still speaking, “Never.”

What he doesn’t say, because Charles kisses him again and Edwin is more than happy to forget about it for now, to just lose himself in Charles’ lips, is this: Never let me go without this again.

What he thinks, because he cannot stop himself is: You might and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to take it.

The ninth time Charles kisses him, Edwin has been starving for it to the point where it feels like he has never done anything else. And not because of anything in particular, just because they have been so close to each other for the better part of three hours and Edwin wants nothing but to pull Charles close and kiss him like their lives depend on it.

And it’s a problem, isn’t it? Because he is missing clues, he is certain of it; Crystal and Niko both sneaking him glances like they aren’t sure what is wrong, and the only saving grace he has left is that neither of them mention it.

“Look at that!”, Charles proclaims and points at a sting of glyphs on the bottom of a pillar that Edwin should have spotted right away, rummaging in his backpack to find their decryption glasses before Edwin can even request them. “I know you probably don’t need them, but you know, why not make life a bit easier sometimes?”

And he hands Edwin the glasses with a smile.

“That’s… quite helpful. Thank you, Charles.”

“I know”, he says and his smile gets brighter if anything, “Proper helpful, that’s me. Don’t you forget it, mate.”

And he kisses Edwin, Edwin, who has been dying to be kissed for hours now, in front of everyone.

Just a little peck, like it is the easiest, most natural thing in the world, and for a moment, it is bliss.

Only for a moment, though, because then Charles pulls back and Edwin’s head zeroes in on the one thing he should have remembered all along, the one he was trying so hard to forget.

Mate.

And it hurts, almost as much as the kiss had been a relief, and suddenly, Edwin isn’t sure he can take it anymore.

The tenth time Charles kisses Edwin, nothing happens and everything happens at once.

Nothing happens, because the kiss is caused by nothing at all, everything happens because Edwin is so in love with Charles he could scream, he could cry, he could fall to his knees and thank every god that wants to listen to him for the privilege of it, because Edwin doesn’t know if he can take another kiss that doesn’t mean to Charles what it does to him.

And yet Charles, who doesn’t know better, who is trying this out for Edwin’s sake, kisses Edwin sweetly in the morning when Edwin is watching the sun rise, putting one hand on his shoulder and the other right below Edwin’s jaw, fingers brushing where his pulse would be if he still had any.

Edwin kisses back, because there is nothing else he can do, then watches Charles retreat, and thinks how it will break his heart not to have this anymore, thinks that it will be kinder that having this and always fearing the day it might be taken away.

The first time Charles doesn’t kiss him is later that day, because it has started raining like a God is trying to drown the world, and Crystal refuses to go out, so the case they have is put on hold for the afternoon, and it’s just the two of them once more.

Edwin has a book in his hands, but the words make no sense as he reads them, because there’s nothing in his mind but the longing for Charles’ kiss, the pain of it and the fear that maybe this time, he’ll break something between them if he speaks it out-loud.

But then Charles saunters over, a smile on the lips Edwin wants to kiss, and he doesn’t want to, but in that moment, he knows that there will be no other option. Because Charles leans down and Edwin can see the next few seconds in his mind, how Charles will take the book from his hands, or maybe just push it down, will lean in and kiss him like it doesn’t matter, like it’s nothing when it will be anything but that to Edwin.

And Edwin cannot do it, not again, not when he knows how wonderful, how terrible it will feel.

“Charles”, he says, before he can allow himself another reprieve, “Stop.”

It makes Charles freeze in place, eyebrows furrowing and raising, and there is alarm in his expression, but it’s still kind, almost tender, and Edwin breathes a sigh of relief; this might be the hardest thing he has ever had to do and yet he’ll be able to do it if Charles just continues looking at him like this.

“What’s wrong?”, Charles asks and instead of grabbing Edwin’s book, he falls down onto the sofa next to him, so close it almost hurts and yet far away enough that Edwin can still think. “Anything happen?”

“Nothing happened. It’s something else.” He cannot look at Charles, not while saying this, and yet he cannot look away from him either, so his gaze ends up on Charles’ chest, the necklace he had tugged on when Charles had been in his lap, which had made Charles gasp into his open mouth. “I cannot continue this.”

“What?” Charles sounds more confused than anything and Edwin wants to look up at him, but doesn’t dare to; if he finds pain in his face, he might end up taking everything back. “The kissing? We don’t have to do the kissing, if you don’t like it-”

“Of course I like it!”And Edwin makes a mistake, looks up at Charles, whose eyes are wide and concerned and confused, and God, Edwin wants to kiss him so much it makes his lips ache. “I like it so much! Sometime it’s the only thing I can think about because I want to kiss you so bad! But I can’t have you kiss me to figure where you stand on loving me, because it tears my heart out every time you step away.”

It’s not how he should handle this, not how he should phrase it, because if Charles never ends up feeling the same, he should not have to think about how every of his touches is the greatest, the most beautiful taunt to Edwin, and yet, Edwin cannot make his mouth stop moving until it has spilt every secret he is carrying.

Only that Charles doesn’t answer, not for a long time, although his lips are moving, as if he is trying to find the words to say.

“Edwin”, he finally starts, when Edwin’s heart is three times its usual size, when it has crumpled to dust. “What the fuck?”

It’s not the response he expected, especially because it’s not said with anger, not even annoyance, just genuine confusion, maybe a little bit of hurt.

“You think I was kissing you to, what? See if I liked it?”, he continues before Edwin has come up with a response, speaking so slowly it feels like he is still trying to come up with the words.

“I- yes? To try it out. Try me out.”

“What the fuck, Edwin?”, Charles repeats and now there is definitely hurt in his voice and in his eyes and Edwin is floundering, because he was trying to prepare for pain, but mainly his own; if Charles was to be hurt it would be because he liked kissing, liked feeling things. Not… like this. “I wouldn’t do that! Not to you! Not to anyone, really, but especially not to you. I’m kissing you because I love you, you idiot!”

Charles’ pain overtakes everything for a moment, shouts louder than his words, because his eye are wet with tears and Edwin put them there, and he wants to break down and apologise for whatever he has done, said, understood wrong, but then the words break through and they are everything, everything, everything.

The world stands still and Edwin cannot think, can only listen to the echo of Charles’ words in his mind, only see the beauty and the pain and the love in them.

“You… love me?”, he asks eventually, tentatively, because even if he knows he has heard it right, he needs the reassurance, needs to hear it one more time, if not a thousand.

“Yes”, Charles says, and something has changed, because there is hint of fond exasperation clinging to the words now, in between the hurt, softening them until it doesn’t break Edwin’s heart to look at him anymore. “And I actually thought I was quite clear about that part. I kissed you twenty-seven times by now, I don’t really do that with my friends. You know I’m not that good with words all the time. I’m better with, you know. This.”

“It was ten times, actually”, Edwin can’t stop himself from saying, even if it should be the least important part of the message, and this, at least, makes Charles laugh softly; even if there is still there is some pain in his eyes left, they are tender now, loving.

“Sixteen times while I was on your lap, mate”, Charles disagrees after a moment, mostly fond, mostly gentle, before he pulls a face, correcting himself, “Sixteen times while I was on your lap, luv.”

He’s been counting, maybe even more closely than Edwin himself, who hadn’t had any mind left once Charles’ body had been weighing him down, and the thought leaves Edwin light-headed, overwhelmed, devoted above all else.

“That’s only twenty-six, then.”

“I know” Charles says, chuckles, sighs; he’s smiling now, and Edwin loves him so much he could write sonnets about just that smile, that look, that curl of Charles’ hair that is lying across his forehead, bouncing as he leans in. “Gimme a second, and I’ll make it right.”

And he closes the distance between them, and kisses Edwin for the twenty-seventh, for the first time, and it’s better than any other kiss they have ever shared.

Edwin stops counting kisses after that.

[read-write-thrive]

Hospitals had never been the favorite location of either of the Dead Boy Detectives, and they usually refrained from even approaching the premises when at all possible. In the early days of the agency, it was too risky— too many dying or newly dead individuals meant Death was nearly impossible to escape, after all. Even now, with an expanded agency under the influence of the Night Nurse, and as such without immediate risk of hell if they strayed too close to Death, they still tried to avoid hospitals out of habit and for the comfort of all involved—the boys never knew when someone might see them (and it never stopped stinging when someone suddenly did) and it wasn’t exactly easy for the girls to just walk into a hospital without rousing suspicion. It was easier in some ways, these years later, now that the girls were adults and less likely to be seen as truants, but that newfound freedom did not bring with it any sudden desire to see what they were missing behind hospital doors.

All this caution and hesitation was ignored when Charles tapped on the mirror to check on his parents and was met with an unexpected chaos. A heart attack, from what the paramedics were saying as they wheeled the old man out on a stretcher, Charles’s mother and their neighbor following behind in her car. Charles didn’t witness the incident itself, pure luck on the timing, but the aftermath was a flurry of commotion that left him reeling.

He wandered back to the main space of their headquarters (a bigger place than what it once was, courtesy of the girls’ tiring of the boys being unreachable during a crisis or two and deciding to go all in on a shared flat) in a daze. Charles didn’t hide his checking in on his parents anymore, but still preferred to do it alone. Thankfully, his friends were kind, wonderful people who were happy to leave him to it. Said wonderful friends, however, were also quick to notice something wrong.

“Charles?” Edwin, naturally, was the first to notice Charles’s return and immediately put his book aside.

The girls, engrossed in a new show on the other side of their living room, snapped up in their own ways.

“What’s wrong?”

“What happened?”

Charles swallowed down the mixture of emotions threatening to drown him, “It’s my dad, he’s had a heart attack.” He screwed his face up in an attempt to stop the tears that threatened to spill out. Why was he crying? The bastard made his life miserable—

“Good.” Crystal was the first to comment. Niko slapped at her arm. Crystal put her hands up, “What? He was awful!”

“It’s still his dad!” Niko protested, “You can’t just say that!”

Charles tuned out their bickering. Everything felt a little tuned out, actually. And then Edwin was in front of him, hands on his shoulders.

“-love? Charles?”

“Hmm?” Charles tried to silence his whirring emotions.

“Are you alright?”

The Charles of even several years ago would have been quick to brush it all off with a smile. But he’d grown since then.

“Honestly? Not sure. Is that bad? Crystal’s right, he was a dick.”

“And Niko makes a very good point as well. He’s still your father.”

The tears were back again. Edwin pulled him in for a hug before Charles could say another word.

The girls had also quieted, alternating between watching the exchange and speaking through meaningful glances.

Niko was the one to break it, “Did you want to see him?”

The very idea shocked Charles, going rigid in Edwin’s arms.

“He might not even be dying, and going to a hospital is recipe for trouble—“ Charles responded slowly, as if waiting for someone to agree with him and take the weight of the decision off of him.

“I mean, a heart attack is probably close enough to death even if it doesn’t get him.” Crystal contributed.

“And our avoidance of hospitals doesn’t matter if you’d like to go see him. The Night Nurse’s lone positive trait is her protection from Death’s clutches, after all.” Edwin said into Charles’s curls.

“I-“ Charles gave himself a breath, “I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“We don’t have to.” Crystal said softly.

“Yeah, we can just have our movie night and distract you, or if you want to talk to us but not go see him…” Niko backed her girlfriend up, trailing off into the silence.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Edwin echoed, sighing, “But I don’t want you to regret anything, either.”

“That’s true, it might be good for closure…” Niko chimes in once again, positive in the face of it all and determined to see Charles cheered up as well.

“Fuck that. You don’t owe him closure. If you don’t want to go, then don’t go.” Crystal’s anger was not what it once was, but she had her moments, particularly when abusers were the topic of discussion. Thankfully she seemed determined to keep her composure.

“Your call, Charles.” Edwin said, pulling away from the embrace but not letting Charles go just yet. He obviously had more to say, if the turn of his mouth was any indication, but he was all softness regardless.

“Could be my last chance, innit?” Charles said lowly, obviously not thrilled at the prospect, “If the bastard goes…”

Edwin’s face shifted, and Charles knew he’d guessed Edwin’s unspoken comment correctly. Still, Edwin’s tone and posture were the same, “No one expects it of you. And we’ll support you regardless of what you decide.”

Charles had a distant feeling of pride that Edwin had gotten better at this sort of thing. He’d tell him that another time. Once this was all over and the world made sense again.

After a moment of reflection, Charles sighed, “I think I’d like to go. Might help me heal or closure or whatever, yeah?”

The girls were up, pulling on their coats and shoes without a second thought. Charles felt monumentally lucky to have them.

Including the boy who held him still, voice low and meeting his eyes, “Do you want all of us with you? We can stay behind if you’d rather do this alone.”

Charles shook his head with his same sad smile, “I don’t want to think what might happen if I do all this alone, mate. Though you’ll have to forgive me if I lose my cool.”

Edwin clearly saw through the attempt at a joking diversion but smiled regardless, “Very well. Do you know which hospital we’re visiting?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s probably closest to their place, yeah?” Charles guessed, scrambling his thoughts trying to remember which hospital he’d been taken to when he’d broken his arm as a kid. It was so long ago, and so much had happened since…

Edwin once again shook him out of his thoughts, “Some investigation is in order, then. Niko? Crystal?”

“On it!” Niko chirped, already deep into her phone, Crystal close behind.

After some internet sleuthing, the girls had acquired the address of the nearest hospital to the Rowland family home and were taking the long way there while the boys readied themselves in front of the mirror.

“Are you ready?” Edwin double checked, hand outstretched.

Charles shook himself, “Not sure I’d ever be, love, but let’s get on with it.”

Edwin pulled him in for a quick kiss on the cheek, a sincere smile, and then through the mirror they went.

—-

They stepped out of a mirror in one of the many bathrooms in the hospital complex, disoriented by the amount of beings (alive and dead alike) as they tried to navigate the halls. The A&E department was the worst, with traumatic deaths creating a perpetual plethora of ghosts. Of course, this was also the first place they needed to check.

The boys held hands tightly as they went, both wound tight by the noise and the blood and the general atmosphere of the place. It was far from the most dangerous place they’d been in their decades together, but that brought little comfort in the face of it all.

Phasing through the various doors and curtains, it was ultimately clear that if Charles’s father was in this hospital, he’d been moved elsewhere. They split momentarily, with Edwin going to find a map of the hospital while Charles waited at the nurse’s station to see if he could get any leads on his family.

It soon became clear that there was simply too much going on for Charles to glean any real information, and he was ready to give up and find Edwin when the next phone call to the desk came from a familiar phone number and gave way to a familiar voice. Niko’s voice was clear on the other end, and just loud enough for Charles to overhear. The nurse gave the information with little questioning, informing all involved that Mr. Rowland had just been moved to a private room on a different floor. Charles didn’t stick around to listen to what exact department the man was in, or what the prognosis was—as soon as he knew the number he was off to find Edwin.

It was quieter in this department. Less urgent. Which meant something significant that Charles was pointedly not thinking about, less that send him into another tailspin. Thankfully Edwin’s presence was grounding beside him.

A nurse left the room as they found it, giving a glimpse through the doorway. Charles’s mother sat at his father’s bedside, accompanying neighbor at her side. They couldn’t see his father (or his father’s ghost for that matter) from their vantage point.

Edwin gave one last squeeze of Charles’s hand to get his attention, “I can give you a moment alone if you’d like.”

“Don’t you dare.” Charles tried to joke, but his voice didn’t seem to cooperate. Edwin’s eyes saddened, but he gave a firm nod and gestured for Charles to take the lead.

The man of the hour looked frail against the white sheets. He was awake, but by the look of his eyes he was definitely on his way out. There was a bulky mask over his nose and mouth, IV in his arm, heart monitor dragging along beside him. Charles's mother sat quietly, holding his hand between two frail ones of her own.

Charles didn't think his emotions could get any more complicated, and then his father's eyes found him. Then Edwin. Then back to him. He rasped behind the mask, Charles's mother shushing him gently.

"Hi dad." Charles sighed more than said, standing awkwardly at the foot of his bed and gripping Edwin's hand so hard he wouldn't be surprised if he managed to hurt him despite all the ghost technicalities.

Another rasp, this time accompanied by a frail hand gesturing towards the boys. Charles nearly slumped in relief when his mother glanced their way but returned to murmuring to her husband rather than reel back in shock. She had some time left, at least. His father, however, continued to try to speak.

Seeing his mother's distress, Charles felt himself snap into his protective mindset without thought, snarking, "Just give it up, mate. They can't see us—you're the only one dying here, so only you get the honour. Trust me, I'd rather talk to mum than you any day, but I cant say I'm too torn up about you going first. Maybe she'll get to have some happy years without you."

The man thankfully stopped his rasping, but his eyes emoted enough that Charles knew he heard him. It gave him the confidence to keep going, never quite sure what his next word was going to be but glad to say it anyway.

"Not that you asked, but I've been having a great time these last thirty, forty years. Yeah my death was awful, don't get me wrong. Kinda wish you got even a taste of that, for all the shit you put me through… Actually, do heart attacks hurt?" He turned his question towards Edwin, who had such a complicated expression that Charles immediately decided that the question wasn't that important, "Doesn't matter now, I guess. But yeah, my afterlife has honestly been better than my life ever was. Not only do I not have to deal with your bullshit, but I've also found people who actually care about me.

"Like this, right here, is Edwin," Charles swung their held hands upwards in an attempt at a wave, earning a slightly hysterical chuckle from Edwin, "He found me dying in that attic, showed me kindness as I died, and I've been by his side ever since. He's the best thing that ever happened to me—"

Charles took a breath as his voice cracked, Edwin's hand squeezing his in silent support. Charles didn't look over to try and keep it together a bit longer.

"He's the love of my—well, love of my afterlife. And I know you’d hate that, or at least hated all that when I was alive. I remember your rants about how all those people dying deserved it. Shouting at the telly like they personally offended you just by existing. Do you still think like that, all these years later? Hell, now here you are, dying on a hospital bed while your queer son laughs at you. What a twist!" Charles laughs, but it doesn't sound right even to himself. He, once again, pointedly doesn't look at Edwin. Looking at Edwin means dropping the brave face, and he's got a few more things to say first.

“You know, you’ll think this is weak or whatever, but I checked in on you and mum over the years. Neither of you could see me, and I never stuck around long, but I wanted—no, I needed to see. If I was the only one you beat, if you’d turn to mum now that I was gone. If you felt any remorse when I died. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I’d seen you raise your hand to her. Probably taken up Edwin here’s offer to haunt the shit out of you.”

“I never—“

“Not in those words, love, I know, I know. But you meant it like that and you know it. Anyway, thankfully I never saw it. And she didn’t cower like I did, or hide any bruises, so I figured you were safe there. As for remorse, well, never really saw that either. I was bitter and angry those first few years over that. Thankfully Edwin here kept me busy. And now I can’t really be arsed, especially now that you’re dying and I can’t find much remorse either. Angry it took you so long, maybe.”

Charles once again looked at his mother, at the tears on her cheeks and her face turned in silent prayer.

“Even if you never beat her, I still wish you’d given her more time without you. Did you ever visit her family? You shot it down every time she even hinted at it when I was alive. And she’d smile and move on like it didn’t hurt her to hear that the man she married hated her family that much. You know, I used to promise her that I would take her to see them again. I’d tell her that once I was grown up we’d run away and live in India where you wouldn’t care enough to chase after us. She’d swat me for that. Disrespecting you. It always came back to you. Which is just how you wanted it, right? The whole world revolving around you? So fucking glad I got out of there. I shouldn’t have had to die for that, but whatever. It let me live free of you. And soon enough I won’t have to worry about you at all.”

Shoes squeaked obnoxiously right outside the door. Charles glanced up just in time to see Niko giving him a thumbs up as Crystal pulled her away from the glass. Turning back, he was glad to see his mother hadn’t turned away from her husband. No need to confuse her or get the girls in trouble.

Charles sighed and turned back to his father, “Not really sure what else to say here. Edwin? Any ideas?”

Edwin thankfully took the playful question as seriously as Charles meant it, “Hmm. You could tell him about hell if you’d like to be especially vindictive. Or take the moral high ground and forgive him for all he did to you. Crystal and I would also be happy to curse him for all he did if you’d like. Literally or figuratively.”

Charles genuinely laughed at how his father’s eyes widened, “While that sounds tempting, he’s already on his way out. All we’d do is freak out my mum.”

Edwin gave him a soft smile, “Of course. Just a suggestion.”

He returned the smile and squeezed his hand in thanks before turning back to his father, “Right. Well dad, I’m glad I caught you before Death did. I won’t speak to hell or anything, don’t want to jinx it, but I hope you get what you deserve. I’m not going to stick around to find out. And I won’t forgive you, either. You were a right bastard and I still struggle with getting you out of my head even after literally dying. So you don’t deserve my forgiveness, honestly. I’ll keep an eye on mum, but that’s for her and my sake, not for yours. Probably won’t go to your funeral or any of that, either. I’ll be a little mad if they bury you next to me, but those are just bones by now so I guess it doesn’t really matter. Yeah. I think that’s it. No forgiveness, no love, just hope you get what you deserve and that I never have to see you again. That about sums it up.”

Edwin squeezed his hand again, drawing his attention, and speaking softly, “Does that mean you’d like to go? We can wait if you want to be sure.”

Charles once again felt overwhelmed with it all, particularly with how lucky he was to have Edwin. He didn’t want to start crying here, so he just nodded and pulled Edwin with him out of the room.

“How’d it go?” Crystal asked from her seat in the hall chair, Niko nodding next to her.

“He’s dying alright. Gave him a piece of my mind. But I’m ready to never think about him again, honestly.” Charles tried to make light of it, but it was clear none of them bought it. He blinked up towards the ceiling to keep the tears away just a bit longer.

“Once we get back to the apartment, expect plenty of hugs from us.” Niko informed him, eyes glancing down the hall at the others down the way.

Charles smiled, “Noted. Sorry to make you come all the way out here, guys.”

“Nope, none of that—“ Crystal started, but was cut off by nurses suddenly rushing towards the room, obvious some alarm or something had been pulled. The girls stood in a rush to get out of the way.

“We’ll see you back at the apartment!” Niko called back to the boys as they took their leave.

Edwin held his arm out, the way he did when he wanted Charles to feel especially cherished, “Shall we?”

Charles turned very purposefully away from the door and took the offered arm with a thankful smile. He would need to have a proper cry and rant and rave about all of this later, he was sure. He’d come to learn that all those complicated emotions don’t just go away when you ignore them. But, for now, he was happy to hold onto his partner and get the bloody hell out of this hospital.

~

EDIT: now with part 2 !!

[technically-human]

Reverse verse thoughts:

Normal Charles would hate that rv!charles doesn’t protect Edwin as the fighter.

Also normal Charles would look at rv!edwin and he’d be like he’s so different from my edwin but also is still edwin,,,, edwin who is wearing earrings,,,

I think normal Edwin would say something like I much prefer how our fates played out compared to there’s and Charles takes it to be like “oh I ’m glad I’m not stuck with this angerier Charles” while he means it like “Ill take as much pain as I need to so you can be protected and kind and you already are scared of being too angry- imagine how he feels”

Oh head so full.

Yay~ thanks for sharing ❤️

He WOULD hate it, and it's very interesting because he obviously doesn't resent his Edwin for not fighting, yet the moment he sees himself in that position (being the one who needs protection) suddenly it's a bad thing! I believe for Charles (all versions of Charles) protection is the most important act of love (which is also why I believe he has conflicted feelings towards his mother, who never really intervened when his father was beating him). Original Charles is very willing to show love this way... But he's not ready to receive it.

He does like the earring. And the hair. But he also thinks it looks weird, as he's too used to his own Edwin.

Oh, you're so right. There boys don't know how to communicate.

[evilmichealcera]

I keep thinking about how being dead must be very conflicting for Edwin and Charles because on the one hand they got their lives stolen from them. They both had brutal painful deaths just because they were themselves because they lost in the lottery of life and were queer (and in Charles case a person of color). They had their families and childhoods snatched from them . Even if their relationships and lives weren’t good they never got the opportunity to try to make the best of it and truly heal. Then there’s obviously what happened to Edwin having to live through 70 years of hell for nothing after having to live a hellish life. But on the other hand they never would have met if they hadn’t died if they hadn’t suffered. If either one of them lived to see adulthood they would have never met their best friend (I’d even go as far to say soulmate). They also wouldn’t have gotten out of their situation. Charles would have continued living with his abusive father and negligent mother and Edwin still would have been getting tortured by bullies . If they lived they wouldn’t have to go through all the trauma of death and wouldn’t have to stay perpetually 16 but they wouldn’t have each other. They finally got the family and friends they deserved but at the cost of their lives. Anyway thanks for listening to me yap I’ve just been thinking about that pretty often.