#you think charles would leave edwin BY HIMSELF FOREVER? no
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Rant in the tags to avoid fandom drama
#i think people who genuinely believe that charles would choose anything including life over edwin have missed the whole point of the show#it hits a super berserk button for me#it's so disingenuous to charles's character#like yeah there'd be a moment of temptation like ooooh life#but the cost would be way too great#he'd never actually do it#they're a fucking SET that is the POINT of the show#idk i just am RANTING because this is so annoying#you think charles would leave edwin BY HIMSELF FOREVER? no#and charles knows he would just spend his entire life missing edwin#for sure#good god#it would be miserable#there's no way#this is the point of the show#staying together is the goal#charles even SAYS in episode 2 that he isnt going anywhere without edwin#he goes to HELL FOR HIM#he WAS JUST MAD IN 4 he's GLAD TO BE WITH EDWIN#w h a t#i do think he'd try to convince edwin to live with him. but if he couldn't. they're both staying dead.#for sure.
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I like the idea that, I've seen mentioned a few times and love it, the boys turn into those little orb things when they're like completely, if they were human they would have passed out, exhausted.
I imagine a soft glow, warm to hold, about the size of an orange, a little weight to it and it doesn't float but drops to the floor and rolls like a ball ~
⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️
It really isn't surprising after everything with hell, Esther, and Niko, that Edwin shifts.
He looks exhausted, and Charles still sees him terrifed and bloody in Hell when he closes his eyes, swaying a little bit where he stands listening to Crystal, and Charles knows what's going to happen before it happens.
The softly glowing orb doesn't even have a chance to drop before Charles snatches it, carefully tucking it away in his coat. It's a warm, little weight against his side.
He loves Crystal, Edwin does too even though he huffs about it, but she doesn't need to see Edwin like this. No one needs to see Edwin like this. The thought of it feels like calling attention to an open wound, advertising a vulnerable spot for someone to exploit or further hurt.
Thankfully, they're all finally free to go home. He doesn't like the idea of leaving Crystal but there's a growing itch to get back home and she shoves him towards the mirror and tells him she's meet up with them later.
Neither Charles or Edwin like being out when one of them is like this.
The first few time it happened, Charles hadn't really thought about it too much. And it happened a lot those first years after his death. He often overdid it, everything going fuzzy before going dark, and then he'd wake up, usually pressed against Edwin's side on the little couch. He always woke up on or next to Edwin and it'd been startling the first few times but he always wakes up comfortable now, no rush to get up.
The first time Edwin shifted in front of Charles, he panicked. Refused to let go of him until, after what seemed like days, Edwin shifted back. Still relaxed enough that he hadn't immediately shoved himself off Charle's lap and he hadn't fought the hug too hard either.
He's only see Edwin like that a few times but to be on the other side of it, he understands why Edwin always relaxes when Charles shifts back. It's a powerful and terrifying feeling, to hold something so small and vulnerable and know it's the most important person in the world to you.
As he got to know Edwin more, Charles had the horrible realization that Edwin had been in Hell for over 70 years and surely he must have been exhausted plenty of times when down there. What happened to him when he shifted?
Charles didn't know what Hell looked like or what really happened down there but he pictured the little orb rolling around on the floor, being kicked, or someone finding other ways to hurt it. He had finally asked, so worked up he hadn't even thought about if Edwin would want to talk about, because he needed to know.
He'd gotten a gentle look from Edwin and an answer.
While he was absolutely exhausted in hell, he never shifted. Hell takes a lot of things away and the relief of sleep or unconsciousness is one of them.
So, honestly, Edwin had lasted longer than Charles thought he would. He half expected that he'd have to lunge for the orb as soon as they fell back through the door from Hell.
Thinking too much about Hell and Esther makes him a nasty mix of furious and terrified, so he forces himself to focus on the present.
He holds Edwin closer his chest as he sinks onto the couch. He's emotionally exhausted and in the silence of everything, finally has a moment to think about the love confession on the stairs of hell.
He doesn't know what to do with that liar but he was right when he told Edwin they had forever to figure it out.
He lays out on the couch, feet hanging off the far end and his head on the armrest, the orb on his chest and his hands almost petting at it. Holding it like this means that when Edwin shifts back he'll be sprawled over Charles, something that will probably have him flustered and immediately trying to get up and off.
Charles hopes he's sleepy and comfortable when he changes back though, that he just settles there without over thinking it.
Just the two of them existing together in the same space.
#dead boy detectives#payneland#edwin payne#charles rowland#i feel like being a ghost would come with all kinds of weird shit#turning into a glowing ball when exhausted seems reasonable and as a living being who can not turn into a glowing ball when exhausted#I am jealous#solving cases with greyskyflowers#dbd
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DBDA Promptober ... Day 5 - Magic @dbdpromptober
. . . . .
"No!"
Edwin barely processed the way that the shout rang through the air, eyes locked with the spell soaring through the air towards his chest. He was going to die.
Edwin hadn't thought much about his death since he started to regain his memories, but he doubted it'd be that bad. I mean, Niko and Crystal were still okay, right? They had each other, and their cases, and… God, from the little bit that David had eased him into regarding his life so far, Edwin wasn't sure that he'd miss much about living.
Well, there was one thing. One guy with a punky style, bright white curls, and the most beautifully radiant smile that Edwin had ever seen. Ghosts didn't age, right? What would that mean for him and Charles? Would the two of them drift apart as Charles grew into adulthood? Would they stay together even though Edwin would stay the same 16 forever? Would Edwin move on alone and leave Charles to grieve?
… He didn't want Charles to cry for him, face twisted in grief as he tried to fend off Mick and save Crystal. He didn't want-
Edwin was jostled from his thoughts as a form covered his view of the spell hurtling towards him, rooting itself right in front of Edwin as it-. "No!" The scream that Crystal let out forced the scene before him to click, everything in slow motion as Charles - sweet, wonderful, selfless Charles - slumped against Edwin. Edwin took hold of him, cradling him as the two crumpled to the floor under the taller's dead weight.
"Charles!" The scream ripped from his throat before he could stop it, before he could even think, and the entire world faded to Charles. His Charles, lips parted and brows furrowed as he whimpered in pain. "Charles." He repeated, name a prayer on his lips as he repositioned himself, cradling his friend's head with one hand as the other clung to his jacket. His eyes were frantic as he examined the younger's body because there had to be something that he could do. Something to stop the way that the crimson blood kept soaking through Charles' bright white shirt.
"Charles, you're gonna be okay. You have to be okay. Please." Edwin begged. He pleaded. Shame was lost to him as he shook Charles ever so slightly, refusing to accept the way that his breathing shallowed as the seconds ticked on and on and…
"Told you…" Charles croaked out, voice hoarse and face pained despite the way he tried so hard to smile for Edwin. "Was always gonna protect you, yeah?" Edwin heard himself sob at the reminder, because it was never supposed to be like this but then Charles' breathing shallowed even more and-
"No! No! Charles!" He cried, leaning over his friend - his love - to hold him because he couldn't be gone. He can't- "Charles…" Edwin sobbed, grief overtaking him because it should've been him that took that hit. Him that had to deal with that pain after everything that Charles had been through.
"Oh… how tragic." Edwin finally registered the world around him as Mick started speaking. "You know, it is your fault though." His hands shook as he held Charles closer, teeth gritting as his grief melted away into nothing but pure rage. "Bringing him here and all. You really should've seen this-"
"Shut up!" Edwin screamed, the familiar pull in his gut as he thrust his hand outward, shoving the man against the wall, before he reached back into his mind, pulling on the thread that connected him to the demon that he'd brought alongside him. "Dæmonium! Da mihi auxilium tuum!" He chanted, letting his magic meld with David's innate energy.
Thought you'd never ask. Edwin felt the demon respond. Edwin's gaze, now black as night, fell upon Mick, and immediately he knew which words to say. "Sedna! Hear me!" He called, magic sending his voice to the sea. "Your child has forsaken, thee. Will you stand for this injustice, for those outcasted to be defiled by his greed?"
Mick laughed, a horrible bitter sound, and Edwin steeled himself. No matter what happened after this point, he knew one thing for certain. He would not let this man hurt another one of his friends.
#hijfhsc swap au#hijfhsc art#hijfhsc drabble#angst#dbdpromptober2024#dbdpromptober#dbda art#edwin payne#charles rowland#payneland#save dead boy detectives#our ghosts matter
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Blah blah, something about how Edwin chose to be "soft" after hell but what if he didn't?
The toughest thing that one can do in a mean world is to keep being kind. And he chose that. He chose to be kind. He disregarded 70 years of being ripped apart to care for a random dying boy, to keep him company. He is tough.
Blah blah, smth like choices and time being main plot points, but what about the clear struggle between good and bad?
Crystal being good now, doing good now, but coming to remember she did all sorts of (objectively) horrible things.
Charles wondering if he became the very thing he was devoting his whole life and afterlife to protecting people from, when he is (non objectively) way better than those he was comparing himself to (his father, his bullies, the two jock boys)
Edwin wondering if he can ever do enough good to be able to save himself from the torture he thinks he must endure forever? All on a technical error? (After having been back to hell, maybe he was meant to be down there. The grudges he holds have a hold on him. And if you punish yourself everywhere is hell, but if what if that's where you belong?)
Monty wondering if he can choose to be good, if he can BE good when all he ever has known is obeying to the whim of a person who is executing bad acts. Can he ever really be good if doing bad is written into him?
The cat king, and his perspective. Good and evil are the same thing if you look at them from far enough away, if you stop focusing on who you hurt and more on what you want. But sometimes he sees it, and he hates it, and he distances himself again.
Esther, being so corrupt by thinking she is the victim that she is good because she was hurt first, thinking her hurt gives her the right to hurt others. Feelings are always valid, the actions tied to them, killing countless girls, killing Niko? Those were not.
Niko, the kindest, sweetest, easily favorite of the show and fandom, she struggles with the guilt of leaving her mourning mother with nothing but her father's body and memories. She can't even mail a letter back. And when she does, she dies. And her body probably reaches her mother before the letter does.
Something about Charles not finishing stories. Something about how he doesn't read the endings, he makes his own. He gets to look back and make sure Edwin is safe, because he never knew that Orpheus couldn't. He does get out of Hell with the love of his (after)life, because he didn't know Orpheus didn't.
He found the love only myths could write off, and left off the endings. He would have love that didn't hurt, even if he had to hurt more to get to it, even if he had to die and run for it. And he would write his own endings.
Something about how Edwin knows the endings, but he goes along anyways. Because he trusts Charles to change the ending. To change the narrative. They both love each other (maybe not expressly in the same way, but it's still love) and maybe that's enough to change the narrative. Maybe the love is enough.
#dbd#dbda#dbd rant#kind of a rant#rant post#esther finch#monty finch#monty the crow#thomas the cat king#the cat king#edwin payne#edwin paine#charles rowland#crystal palace#niko sasaki#crystal palace surname von hoverkraft#dead boy detectives#dead boy detective netflix#dead boy detective agency#i love them#technically payneland#screaming crying throwing up#please look at this
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day 6 of @painlandweek !!
day 6 prompt: free day!!
summary:
after edwin's confession, charles has a lot to think about. he finds himself watching edwin even closer than usual, and realisations happen. or a series of moments post-s1 that gave charles rowland a bit of a crisis
notes:
title from not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker
this fic was also a collaboration with the amazing @every-moment-a-different-sound !! they made these gorgeous gifs based on my fic <33
also on ao3!!
through your eyes i see a smile you bring to me
He’d been thinking. A lot. Charles Rowland didn’t do that. He was more of a ‘do first, think later’ kind of guy. He said what was on his mind, about most things at least. He made most decisions in a spur of the moment. He wouldn’t think twice before jumping in front of danger for someone he cared about – usually Edwin. And Edwin Payne was exactly the catalyst for Charles’s current intense thinking.
There were four facts he definitely knew:
Edwin was the person he loved most in the entire world.
Edwin was in love with him.
Charles’s instincts were, and had been for years, to make Edwin happy no matter what.
Charles didn’t want to do anything that might eventually hurt him if he was wrong.
Perhaps the third fact ought to have started some conversation about his own self-worth issues, but Charles decided to file that away for later. All he knew now was that he had to think this through. He had to be sure before he made a decision that could end up being stupid in the long run.
All this thinking had led Charles to focus on Edwin somehow even more than he had before. If he was in the room while Charles was supposed to be doing something, he would be distracted. If Charles was alone while he was supposed to be doing something, he would be distracted. It seemed that if Charles wanted to think through this as much as he should, he’d have to sacrifice his productivity in the agency. And as long as no one noticed or mentioned it, he was more than willing to do so.
In his staring, Charles had come to realise some tiny things about Edwin that he may have perhaps noticed before, but never really noticed. Like the way he would tap his notebook with the pencil while thinking about what to write; the way he would run his hands through his perfectly slicked hair whenever he was confused, or stressed, or embarrassed; the way his eyes would light up whenever Niko suggested they watch another episode of Scooby Doo. The one thing that wouldn’t leave Charles’s mind, however, is something he had noticed Edwin did around him.
He'd noticed it after the Night Nurse’s most recent visit. She was still bitter that she was being forced to oversee the agency in the first place, so had been her usual snarky self.
“I don’t know why I even agreed to help you two insolent boys. Oh wait, I didn’t agree to this! Please deal with this yourselves, I have a lot of paperwork to do!” she had said before she left the office.
She hadn’t physically used the door, but the annoyed way in which she disappeared from sight gave the implication of slamming it in their faces.
Immediately after she’d left, Charles had turned to look at Edwin, pursing his lips and looking down his nose at him in an attempt to recreate her bitchy expression.
“You two insolent boys,” he said imitating her high-pitched voice. “I have a lot of paperwork!”
And Edwin laughed. A real, genuine, from-the-chest laugh. And he smiled. It was exactly that smile that flicked some switch inside Charles’s brain.
Whenever he smiled around most people, it would be visible more in his eyes than anywhere else, his mouth only curling up slightly, his lips pressed tightly shut. Sometimes however, oh how his face brightened. Occasionally he would smile with his eyes and his mouth, showing his teeth in a glowing grin. It was beautiful.
It hit Charles that the only times he’d ever seen Edwin smile like that was when he was around him and him alone. It was as though that beaming grin was reserved just for him, and Charles savoured it every single time. He made it his death’s mission to make Edwin smile as often as physically possible. Every time he managed it, he felt like he had won.
Was it normal to think that way about your best mate’s smile? Was it normal to be elated to discover he seemingly has a smile especially for you? These were the thoughts that were currently doing laps around Charles’s brain.
The next time Charles found himself in crisis mode over Edwin was a few weeks later. They’d had a walk-in potential client, a young woman whose family had kept meeting unfortunate accidents in their house, who, after dying of a fall on their staircase, had discovered the house was actually haunted by a creature she suspected to be a poltergeist. They had heard her case, and were just onto the topic of payment when she pulled out an amulet, offering it with the explanation that it glowed in the presence of anything that had been in the presence of a demon. Notably, it was not glowing in the presence of either of the boys.
“Danielle,” Edwin began, in the tone Charles recognised as the way he always spoke when he was about to make a point and prove himself right. “You brought your case to us and we listened and agreed to take it, so clearly you trust us and our reputation. Hence, you should also have assumed that we, as supernatural detectives, have come into contact with demonic forces before. And if you hadn’t noticed, there is no glow in that amulet. It is clearly a fake. You really should have thought about that before bringing it to us as payment.”
Charles just stared at him, in awe. Edwin had done this many times, caught tricky clients in their lies as easy as anything. He’d done it with Emma when she’d brought Crystal’s case to them, claiming not to have any form of payment at all. Charles had always admired him when he did that, but now he really thought about it, the way he mesmerised him might have been for a reason deeper than simply ‘my best friend is so cool’.
“What?” the client gasped.
“The amulet is just a piece of jewellery. You knew that, didn’t you?”
“No?” she said, tearing up.
“Oh,” Edwin immediately softened. “Well, let me apologise for the last thirty seconds. It has happened a surprising amount of times over the last thirty-three years that we’ve had clients con us with claims they have a magical item to give as payment.”
“I didn’t know, I swear. It was the only thing I could think of to give because it was a family heirloom and my grandma had always told me it was magic. I’m just trying to help my family, please, my twins, they’re only four, they get into enough accidents as it is, I couldn’t bear for them to go through what I did because of that thing-”
“Danielle,” Edwin’s voice was so different from how it had been previously, no longer sharp and quick-witted but now soft and comforting. “I promise we will do everything we can to rid your home of whatever spirit it is that is lurking there.”
“But I don’t have anything else to give you-”
“We do occasionally take cases without payment, if the situation is dire. This counts. Do not worry about it.”
“Really? Thank you so much!”
“We are happy to help.”
Charles would have said something too, reassured her that they’d do the best job they could, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Edwin. Somehow, the switch to his comforting, encouraging voice had even more of an effect on him.
When Edwin turned to Charles after Danielle left and asked if everything was okay since he’d been oddly quiet throughout the interview, he just smiled, claiming he was aces. Technically, it wasn’t a complete lie, just perhaps not the entire truth. He didn’t really know how to say ‘yeah, I’m fine, I just can’t seem to stop staring at you lately no matter what you’re doing,’ without it sounding at least a little strange.
The staring thing didn’t go away.
It had been a very warm day – not that the boys could actually tell, obviously. They’d only assumed since Niko had sauntered into the office in a flowy pink and orange summer dress with her bright pink heart sunglasses perched on her head, closely followed by Crystal in a purple mesh top and brown shorts. Their assumption had then been confirmed by the hour of complaining that followed.
While Edwin insisted on staying at the office to finish researching about demonic fungi, Charles tagged along with the girls when they eventually got too tired of the heat and decided to go and get ice-cream. He knew he couldn’t eat any himself, but he liked going into town with them, it made him feel a tiny bit like a normal living teenager for a little while. He’d gone into town to the cinema or to the arcade with his friends often when he was alive – even if those memories now left a sour taste in his mouth despite the fact taste was one of the senses he’d lost years ago.
The girls had nearly finished their ice-creams by the time they returned, Crystal giggling quietly when she noticed Niko had gotten some on the tip of her nose. Charles was just thinking about how much he loved seeing Crystal so happy as they re-entered the office.
Charles immediately noticed the change in Edwin’s outfit. When they’d left, he’d been wearing his matching pinstripe blue-grey blazer and trousers, his bow-tie perfectly tied and straight. Now, he’d lost the blazer, and his bow-tie was nowhere to be seen, the top few buttons of his shirt undone just enough to reveal his collarbones. The shirt, Charles also noted, had short sleeves. He’d never known Edwin to wear a short-sleeved shirt. He’d roll the sleeves up occasionally when they were working in the office, but it was always the same white long-sleeve.
Edwin had been more experimental with his clothing choices since his change of outfit in Port Townsend had gained him compliments from both Niko and Charles, but it had still always been some variation of his usual get-up – only slight changes to the colour scheme, or the fabric, or exchanging his blazer for a jumper. Charles had never seen him dressed this casually.
“Cool shirt, mate,” he said, unable to keep the smile off his face. Perhaps it was a strange thing to say about a plain white shirt, but he didn’t know how else to mention it nonchalantly. He was already using enough of his brainpower to focus on stopping himself staring at Edwin’s arms.
"Thank you, Charles,” Edwin said, looking down momentarily in that awkward yet endearing way he did whenever anyone complimented him.
“Oh, good,” Crystal said, halfway through retying her hair in a bun. “I know you guys don’t feel the heat but just seeing you in that jacket was making me sweat buckets.”
“Yes, well, I figured I might as well dress for the occasion, as it were.”
“It looks great!” Niko said excitedly.
Edwin smiled at her. It was different to the smile he gave most people, his eyes brightening even more than usual, like they always did around Niko. It still wasn’t the beaming grin he reserved just for Charles, though.
“How’s the research going?” Charles asked, trying to change the subject.
“Well. I believe I have all the information we need to identify which type of infernal fungus it is that is plaguing our client."
“Brills!”
With that, Edwin stood up from the desk, walking around it to put the book back in its very specific spot on the shelf. It was only then that Charles noticed it wasn’t only his shirt Edwin had changed – he was now wearing shorts, too. They were still the same blue-grey pinstripe, still the same formal style as his usual trousers, only now they ended just above his knee. He walked around the room as confidently as always, and Charles desperately tried to tear his eyes away from Edwin’s legs. But it seemed something had short-circuited in his brain, because he couldn’t think about anything else.
“Hey,” Crystal nudged him. “You good there?”
Charles snapped his head around to look at her.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
Crystal just raised her eyebrows at him, then turned back to Niko.
He’d been thinking his love for Edwin might not be entirely platonic for a while, but the realisation well and truly hit him after they’d just wrapped up a particularly hard-hitting case.
A 14-year-old boy had come to the office. He’d recently died but had no idea how, his only memory being coming home from a friend’s house, walking into the living room to find his mother sitting on the sofa watching TV, then feeling a sharp pain on the back of his head. When he woke up, he was in an ambulance, and was now detached from his physical form.
After some investigation of the boy’s house, they’d found a metal rod in the back of the shed in the garden. And they’d caught someone going there once every couple of days to check it was still hidden. It had been the boy’s father.
Edwin had felt horrible having to drag Charles away from hugging the sobbing boy as Death arrived for him.
Charles had been quiet ever since. Edwin hadn’t asked if he was okay – he already knew the answer. He’d dropped onto the sofa as soon as they got back to the office, his head in his hands. Edwin had given him a moment, before he slowly sat beside him, giving him as much space as possible.
“Charles?” he asked quietly, tapping his shoulder so gently it was barely even a touch.
Rather than push him away like he had back near the lighthouse in Port Townsend, Charles leaned into the touch. Edwin tentatively shuffled closer to him until Charles barely had to move to lean further into his space. Edwin just pulled him close.
“Whatever you need, I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m always here.”
Charles let out a sob into Edwin’s chest, and he only held him closer.
And in amongst all the anger, all the pain, all the tears, the love he felt was overwhelming. He was breaking down, sobbing, finally letting out emotions he felt like he’d been locking away for years, and instead of turning away from him, instead of judging him or telling him to ‘man-up’ like his friends or his father would have, Edwin Payne just held him. And Charles couldn’t contain the intense love he felt for him. He’d do anything for this to never end, for Edwin to always be there for him and for him to always be there for Edwin in return. He wanted to stay in Edwin’s arms forever. And luckily for him, they had just that. They had forever, eternity.
They held each other until the sun rose, and talked about it in the morning.
Charles was reeling after his realisation. He was confident now. He just had to find a way to tell him.
The four of them were walking down the street together, finally just hanging out as a group outside of a case. He’d zoned out watching Edwin once again, his mouth slightly agape, this time imagining different scenarios where he confessed that he was wrong on that staircase while Edwin was several paces ahead, having been dragged towards a Scooby-Doo themed shop window display by Niko.
Crystal nudged him in the side from her spot beside him.
“You sure you’re okay? You’ve been weirdly…spacey recently,” she said, a concerned look on her face.
Charles turned to her, voicing the only coherent thought he had.
“I think I’m in love with Edwin.”
#i cant believe payneland week is nearly over woah :((#ive been busy this week so i still need to actually write tomorrows oops#dead boy detectives#edwin payne#charles rowland#payneland#painland week#painlandweek#my dbda posts
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Back in late September I made a poll to know what fic I should work on, completely forgetting I was about to run headfirst into the end of year rut (plus moving plus other life projects) so I ended up predictably writing nothing of substance aside from a quick snippet in an AU that has cool aesthetic but not enough foundation to stand on its legs -_-
So, as a way to finally start working on the most popular option from that poll (aka: the one where a Catland kiss is the spark that gets Payneland started) I'm going to just write and post the first draft on Tumblr and then I'll clean it up into a more proper story for AO3. @kepodewers you asked to be tagged in case that happened so watch this space (unless you want to wait for the polished version). This is based on this prompt from @stinastar which I got somewhere around forever ago^^" I'm very sorry about the delay and the rushed format, I hope it satisfies anyway! Fair warning: it starts out pretty angsty.
ETA: Important note: Like all my first drafts this is going to be posted in several snippets! I'll be making separate posts for each I think, unless the overwhelming consensus is that people would rather have a chain of reblogs
Edwin falls through the floor.
He hasn't lost control of his corporeality since his first week back on Earth and never that badly. The thought of it would be mortifying any other day, but not today. Today, it is a relief. Today, Edwin's entire being is intent on denying his death harder than it ever has before. Blood pulses in his ears as he finally comes to a stop in the basement of their building, tears burn in his eyes and in his throat, and his heart claws at the inside of his ribs with the ferocity of a hell hound. Half-blind with tears, Edwin pulls his right foot out of the ground, spins around, and rushes to the staircase as soon as he spots it.
His feet clatter up the steps, the door bangs in his wake, and when he bursts through the front door he cannot even manage to avoid running straight through Crystal. She calls out his name and Edwin slows down, trying to decide if he can stand to speak to anyone right now—
"Edwin!"
Edwin turns around just in time to see Charles phase through the door, through Crystal—continue without even apologizing to her—and then... And then his feet turn around again, carry him across the street and into the little park there, Charles' footsteps thundering after him.
"Edwin, wait!"
Edwin ignores Charles' pleading tone. He has never done that before. Not for a case, not for a reward, not even to preserve his own existence. Nothing could have forced him to ignore Charles then, no amount of danger, no amount of torture, no amount of pain. Except, it seems, if Charles himself were the source of Edwin's distress.
"Leave me alone!" Edwin yells over his shoulder, harsher than he meant but unable to stop and soften his voice.
Charles hasn't caught up with him, Edwin knows that. He is the much faster runner of the two, especially with the novelty of needing more distance from Charles than ever before. Perhaps it is that knowledge that stops him in his tracks when he hears Charles gasp.
"Edwin," Charles tries again, but Edwin shakes his head, ignoring the jogger that goes through him with a disgruntled shiver.
"Charles, please," he pleads, "please leave me alone. I can't—"
"Edwin, please, talk to me," Charles begs.
He is standing in the middle of the street, hands up as if to calm down a distressed client. He looks so genuinely distraught, so sincerely hurt, that Edwin feels bad for the way he is acting. He wishes he could be a better person. Wishes he could be a better friend. Yet, when he tries to speak his voice comes out cold and cutting in a way he never thought he could have used against Charles.
"I fail to see what there is to say. You made it quite clear before that you were uninterested in what I had to offer. It is hardly my place to be upset about where they lay instead!"
"But you are upset," Charles replies, and the lack of denial feels like a knife going right through Edwin's chest.
"Well, Charles," he says, a sob clinging to the cold fury that laces his voice, "I think you might be able to understand why I am."
"Look, Edwin, Thomas—"
"'Thomas'?" Edwin exclaims, anger and hurt dragging his voice down, making Charles flinch. "Thom—what happened to 'That Cat King'? What happened to 'Whiskers'?"
"Edwin—"
"You know, it is your right to move on," Edwin says, pressing his hands together so hard he is half afraid to damage his nonexistent gloves. "I understand that my feelings do not entitle me to your affections, but I would have thought you would at least have had the courtesy to let me know you had figured 'the rest' out! I would have thought you would at least told me so I didn't have to find out like this!"
Edwin closes his eyes, half to avoid the look of hurt mixed with almost fear on Charles' face, half to catch the flood of tears threatening to spill on his face as he remembers. Coming through the mirror. Looking around for Charles, so eager to show him the new book he acquired. Finding him sitting on their sofa, with his hands on the Cat King's hip, his head tilted back, the long column of his throat all but offered up to the other man as he cradled Charles' face in his hands and kissed him with exactly the sort of tenderness Edwin would endure another seventy years of Hell to give Charles.
"Please," Edwin repeats, "leave me alone. At least for now."
And Charles, silent and pale, nods and turns around, and leaves Edwin alone.
#Dead Boy Detectives#dbda fanfic#payneland#Charles Rowland#Edwin Payne#fic: the Catland kiss incident#matt writes#20n#30n#40n
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@deadboyween day 4!!
day 4 prompt: orbs
summary: edwin is worried about charles, who just will not sit still. he knows something is troubling him, but he just won't talk about it. eventually, he exhausts himself so much he reverts into orb form.
notes: when i made the prompt list this was the one i was determined to write something for, so when i realised it was TODAY and i hadn't written anything yet, i just kinda threw this together oops
also on ao3!!
and it feels good to be known so well
Charles Rowland rarely sat still. He always had to be somewhat dynamic, whether it be bouncing his leg up and down or fidgeting with whatever was in his hands at the time. He was fine if he was focused, like during client interviews and while on cases, but when he was just relaxing, he was never truly still.
That had been the case for as long as Edwin could remember, but Charles’s constant movement had never been quite as bad as it had been for the last few weeks. Even seeing him sitting down at all had been a rarity.
He’d been on his feet for so long that he just looked so…tired. Ghosts may not sleep, but that didn’t mean they could keep moving forever without so much as a break. Edwin had been beginning to worry. Something was bothering him, that much was clear. And the way he kept looking directly at Edwin, as though to say something, then immediately looked away as soon as the other boy made eye contact, really didn’t help Edwin’s growing anxiety.
“Charles, are you quite alright?” he asked, putting his notebook away in the drawer of his desk and giving the boy his full attention. “I know you’re usually very mobile but there is clearly something on your mind.”
“I’m good, mate. Don’t worry about me,” Charles replied simply.
Edwin knew Charles well enough to tell when what he said was just a pre-programmed response to get people to stop worrying about him, no matter what was going on in that brilliant-yet-troubled mind of his. Edwin also, however, knew Charles well enough to tell when pushing him to talk wasn’t a good idea. And it was clear that this wasn’t the time, so Edwin chose support over questioning.
“Okay, but if you do need to talk, you know I’m always here to listen. And please sit down, you look exhausted.”
“I said I’m fine, Edwin,” Charles said again, snappier. He immediately regretted his tone. “Just…”
Then, Charles seemed to wobble a little on his feet. He let out a shaky breath, even though his lungs hadn’t truly inhaled air in thirty-five years, and leaned back against the arm of the sofa as though to steady himself.
“Charles…?”
“Shit, Edwin, I think…”
Before Charles could even finish his sentence, a spot on his chest just over his unbeating heart began to glow, and within a few seconds the rest of his corporeal form had faded away, leaving only a glowing sphere in his place.
“Charles!”
Edwin rushed over to the sofa, just catching the orb before it rolled off the sofa and onto the ground. He lifted the pulsing light to face height, inspecting it as though it could actually be harmed.
“This is the second time in two weeks, Charles. Please, just talk to me, you’re exhausting yourself,” he sighed, trying to fight back tears he couldn’t quite explain.
He thought things had gotten better since Port Townsend. He thought they had agreed to talk when they had important things on their mind, no matter what. He thought they weren’t keeping the deep stuff quiet anymore.
Evidently, he was wrong. Edwin couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was his confession that had caused them to backtrack so significantly in terms of communication. Sure, Charles told him that he was fine with it, that it hadn’t changed anything between them, that they were still the most important people in the world to each other – and Edwin believed him. At first glance, it would seem that they were just as close as they had been before – closer, even. Charles seemed more inclined to initiate physical contact than ever, and always seemed to be calmest when Edwin was in the room with him. But Edwin also knew Charles had gotten very good at keeping things locked up inside himself, especially things that could potentially make him feel like a burden. If everyone would be happier without it being said, it wouldn’t be said. Edwin genuinely thought that if you were to look up people pleaser in a dictionary, all that would be written there as its definition would be Charles Rowland’s name.
So if his confession had changed things, if Charles really was worrying about it, of course he wouldn’t mention it. If it had changed things, of course he might think twice about being quite so open about his own struggles. Edwin just wished he understood just how much he loved him. Not necessarily the love that made Edwin want to kiss Charles, to touch him in a romantic sense – but the love that made him always want Charles around, the love that made Charles the most important person in Edwin’s universe, the love that he had for him no matter what, no matter whether or not he returned Edwin’s romantic feelings.
Edwin just loved Charles because of who he was, and he always had. He hoped one day the other boy might finally understand that, so he knew intrinsically that he really could talk to him about anything, and didn’t have to bottle it up so much that things like this happened so often.
Edwin returned to his desk, but didn’t pull his notebook back out just yet. He simply sat there, Charles’s most pure and natural form floating slightly in his palms.
A few hours later, Charles had still not returned back to his usual gangly, grinning form. He was still just that tiny sphere of glowing energy. He’d been rolling around on the desk for the better part of half an hour – Edwin scolded him for moving around in this state when his constant activity was what prompted it in the first place – and had now found a place to settle.
He was nestled on Edwin’s shoulder, as though peering over him to look at his notebook like he usually did in his corporeal body. Every so often he nuzzled closer to Edwin’s neck, and Edwin couldn’t help the sense of pride and comfort he felt in the knowledge that Charles felt safe with him, no matter what secrets might be causing problems in his currently non-existent head.
The quiet of the room was interrupted when the door to the office opened and Crystal walked in.
“Hey, Edwin, have you seen Charles-” she began, but cut herself off when she spotted the flickering sphere on Edwin’s shoulder. “What’s that?”
“Oh. Hello, Crystal. Uh, this is Charles,” Edwin said.
“I’m sorry, what? He’s…a blob?” Crystal looked confused as she took her coat off, laying it across the empty sofa.
“An orb,” Edwin corrected. “It happens to us sometimes when we get tired. We may not be able to sleep like the living do, but we can compress ourselves into our most natural form – pure spectral energy. Well, I say we can. Sometimes it is involuntary, like fainting. That’s what happened to Charles.”
“Okay, that’s…kind of cool actually. Like ghost hibernation.”
As Crystal walked over towards the desk, Charles seemed to vibrate, growing brighter for a couple of seconds before dimming again.
“That’s him saying hello,” Edwin clarified.
“Oh. Hey, Charles! Wait…he can hear us?”
“Yes. Well, no. Sort of. He can sense that you’re here but perhaps not understand what you’re saying. Well, if we do hear we forget it when we turn back. We don’t fully understand it, if we’re honest.”
“Right,” Crystal said, clearly understanding even less than Edwin did.
The orb moved again, this time towards the side of Edwin’s neck as he had been doing all afternoon. Edwin chuckled – it did always tickle a little when he did that.
“Charles tends to get clingy when he’s like this,” Edwin turned back to Crystal, who had sat opposite him in the chair usually reserved for clients.
Edwin from a few months ago might have told her to move, or at least given her a glaring look, but now-Edwin simply smiled at her. They’d become good friends since everything, once they’d both realised they were being a little unfair taking out their frustrations on one another.
“He told me once that it is like his way of ensuring me he is there even when he cannot exactly talk. He seems to have a proclivity for always having to be near me in some way, especially since Hell,” he continued.
“I had noticed that,” Crystal said.
“I keep trying to tell him he doesn’t have to, that I can protect myself, but he just won’t listen.”
“It does seem like protecting you makes him happy,” she commented.
“I know. And I like knowing that he is happy, of course I do. But he seems to think that if he isn’t useful to me, then I will not want him around.”
“He’s like the biggest people pleaser I’ve ever met.”
“I just wish he knew that I want him around no matter what.”
Edwin turned to look sadly at his shoulder as he spoke. Charles only nuzzled even closer.
Crystal leaned further towards him, comforting.
“I’m sure he does know that, Edwin, it’s just… it’s just who he is. I think with everything that happened when he was alive, he constantly feels like he has to prove himself to everyone because he could never seem to be good enough for anyone. His dad beat him, and even the people he thought were his friends turned on him and fucking��killed him. He’s gonna have a lot of trauma from that. Even if he refuses to really talk about it.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
“Also, if he can hear us right now, I’m sure he’ll know he can talk to us if he needs to,” Crystal said, her voice growing louder at the end as though specifically intending for Charles to hear.
Edwin appreciated how much she cared. Despite his initial jealousy and coldness towards her, it was nice having someone else who cared for Charles so deeply.
“I hope so. Especially since…” he took a deep breath. He hadn’t expected to be confiding in Crystal about this, but he was glad she came over. “Lately, he’s seemed even more distracted. Something is weighing on him – this is the second time he’s transformed in the past fortnight. I wish he would talk to me instead of keeping it inside.”
Crystal nodded slightly, her face unexpectedly relaxing a little.
“Okay, I think I know what specifically it’s been about more recently,” she said.
“Really? Did he talk to you about it?”
He tried not to be a little sad at the idea that Charles went to Crystal about it before he went to him. It was irrational, of course – he knew the two of them were close, and of course he loved Crystal – but it wasn’t helping that little voice in the back of his head that kept thinking something had changed between them since Hell, that he didn’t feel as comfortable sharing things with him anymore.
“Not exactly,” Crystal said, and Edwin’s mind eased. “I kind of figured it out and brought it up.”
“What is it? Is something wrong?”
“No, no, nothing like that, don’t worry,” Crystal reassured him, clearly noticing this was causing Edwin distress. “Look, I’m not the one who should tell you about it, so just believe me that it’s nothing bad, please.”
Edwin sighed.
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I promise. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”
What could he possibly need to prepare to tell him? Edwin desperately suppressed the many anxiety-riddled questions and possibilities his tireless mind thought up.
“I’ll be here for him no matter what,” he said.
“I know,” Crystal smiled. “You always are.”
Edwin smiled back at her – the sister he never had. Crystal suddenly reached her hand up to her face and wiped a tear from her eye before it even had chance to fall.
“Alright, enough of that,” she sniffled. “I just came to say I’m not gonna be here for the next couple days. I’m meeting up with a few old friends, I wanna try and fix things. If I can.”
“Of course. I know you can, Crystal. I’m aware I don’t say things like this often, but you really are such a lovely person. I don’t know exactly what you did to these friends before everything happened, but I hope they see how much you’ve changed.”
“Thanks, Edwin. That…it means a lot.”
Both of them looked at one another for a few seconds, the small smiles still on both of their faces.
Then, all of a sudden, the orb on Edwin’s shoulder grew brighter, and brighter, and brighter.
“Woah, what’s-”
Before Crystal could ask, the light faded, and Charles’s familiar form faded back into corporeality. Since he had been perched on Edwin, he was sat on the arm of the chair practically clung to him when he opened his eyes.
“Charles! Good to have you back,” Edwin sighed, relieved.
“I need to talk to you,” Charles said, looking directly into his eyes.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Crystal said, standing up from the chair and grabbing her coat from the sofa. “I’ll see you guys on Wednesday, yeah?”
“Goodbye, Crystal. Good luck.”
With that, Crystal left the office. Edwin swore he saw her give Charles a smile and a thumbs up as she left the room.
Edwin turned, surprised to see Charles hadn’t even moved, and was still all but pressed up against his side.
“How are you feeling?” Edwin asked, trying not to focus too hard on the proximity.
“Better. Thanks.”
“Are you sure? I’m not trying to pry, but I’m getting worried about you Charles. We said we’d talk-”
As Edwin spoke, Charles moved – but only to face him, leaning back against the desk like he did when they had clients.
“I know, mate. I’m sorry, I just…right, I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you about something but I didn’t know how or when or if, and I guess…that rest I just got kind of gave me time to think a bit more without there being everything else,” Charles explained.
Edwin was confused, but gave him the chance to talk.
“Right. Is there something wrong, or…?”
“No! God, no, Edwin. Shit, I’ve really stressed you out, haven’t I?”
“Yes, I rather think you have,” Edwin chuckled. “I guess I’ve just been worried that perhaps…you feel differently about our agreement to talk to each other about things since I told you what I did in Hell.”
“What? Edwin, no. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise-”
“You have nothing to apologise for,” Edwin told him, reaching out to take his hands.
Maybe that was overstepping, but Charles didn’t complain or pull away – quite the opposite: he held Edwin back.
“No, I do. You’ve been here thinking I…god, I’m sorry. I swear, what you told me in Hell is…well actually I guess it kind of is why I’ve been acting all weird, but it’s not what you’re thinking, I promise.”
“Then what?”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, right? Ever since you told me what you did. I wanted to properly think on it because I love you so much and, like, I know we’d be us no matter what, but I just couldn’t just let this go, could I?”
Edwin opened his mouth to say something, but Charles cut him off.
“I know what you’re gonna say. You’re thinking I’m doing what I always do and just telling you what you wanna hear, but I’m not. I needed to think about this for me as well as for you.”
“And…?” Edwin prompted, trying not to sound as hopeful as he was steadily growing to be.
“Well, I was just driving myself insane, wasn’t I? I had no idea how to put this shit into words or figure out what it means. But then Crystal brought it up, and you know what she’s like – she’s direct about shit. And it really helped. She kinda put everything about this into perspective. ‘Cause, like, I was trying to find someone to compare my feelings to, to figure out if I felt the same, but, like, I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what that feels like. Sure I had a couple of girlfriends when I was alive but that was just typical teen romance, doing it just because it was expected of you and because it felt good. It was never proper love. All I knew was that you weren’t like anyone I’ve ever known. And Crystal helped me realise that maybe…”
Charles held Edwin’s hand tighter.
Edwin tried not to breathe too heavily, looking up at Charles with such hope and love and relief in his eyes.
“Maybe I’ve been in love with you since the start. I knew you were different, but we just clicked so well I didn’t even realise what that difference was, that it was deeper. You’re my best friend above everything else, but there’s definitely something else too. I just needed a little help to see it.”
“Charles, what are you saying?” Edwin asked.
He knew what he was saying. Of course he did. But he couldn’t quite believe it, so he asked anyway.
Charles reached his other hand out and tipped Edwin’s head up slightly by his chin, ensuring they were making eye contact.
“I’m in love with you. Always have been.”
Edwin couldn’t help the soft surprised noise that escaped his throat.
“Charles…why were you getting so stressed about this? You know you could have told me before it got to this point.”
“I know, it’s just…I think it took a while for me to realise I could have this. Like, obviously I knew you felt the same, but…I didn’t feel worthy? Almost. I don’t know. I never- I never really knew what proper romantic love was. My parents, maybe they were in love once, before I came along, but I don’t remember it. The only long-term romantic relationship I really knew was one full of fear and like, tension. And abuse. I guess I just worried I might not know how to do this, so maybe you wouldn’t want to. I dunno, it’s stupid.”
“No. It’s not stupid, Charles.”
Edwin held Charles’s hands under his own chin.
“Well, the idea that you aren’t worthy of my love is preposterous, but I understand why you might have felt like that. I know your family weren’t the image of love you wanted to see growing up. I can’t exactly say my own were either. But I promise you; your love, in all its forms, is beautiful. You might not think you know how to do this, but you’re doing it brilliantly. Even if you didn’t feel the same romantic inclinations I do, you are enough. You’re so, so much more than enough.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Charles couldn’t hold back any longer – he surged forwards, wrapping his arms around Edwin. It was awkward, with Edwin still sitting in the chair, so Edwin stood up. The two of them pressed up against each other, holding the other close as though they could disappear at any second.
Edwin only held him closer when he heard a quiet sniffle come from Charles.
“I love you,” he mumbled into Edwin’s shoulder, and Edwin swore a rush of warmth flooded his cold dead heart.
“I love you too,” Edwin replied. “More than anything.”
When they broke apart, they simply looked at each other for a moment, soft smiles on their faces.
“Can I kiss you?” Charles asked, and Edwin didn’t think he’d ever heard him sound so quiet, his mind so still.
“Of course you can.”
Edwin had been dreaming about this moment for a while, no matter how hard he tried not to. Every so often, his thoughts would wander to what Charles’s lips would feel like against his own, whether their kisses would be hungry and passionate or soft and gentle – or a little of both.
He always imagined, in the rare instances that he allowed himself to ponder the potentiality of Charles one day feeling the same way, that their first kiss would be quick, in the heat of the moment. Charles had always been an impulsive person, so he imagined this would be no different. Perhaps they’d be out on a case and Charles would pull him aside, crush their lips together and whisper a hurried ‘talk later?’ before getting back to the task at hand.
Edwin had never been happier to be wrong. Obviously, he wouldn’t have predicted or asked for the circumstances that led up to this, for Charles’s emotional conflict and physical and emotional exhaustion, but this moment, their lips meeting softly in the early evening light that poured in through the office window, was perfect.
When their mouths separated, Edwin kept his eyes closed for a few seconds, just revelling in the moment. Then, he opened them and oh he was glad he did – Charles looked incandescently beautiful standing before him, his lips slightly parted, his eyes huge and focused on him.
They both moved together for a second kiss, resting their foreheads against each other when their lips broke apart, as though being even centimetres apart from one another was a curse.
“I’m sorry, about the stress, and about the…orb-ing thing,” Charles said quietly, and Edwin swore he could feel breath against his own lips. That wasn’t possible, though. Ghosts didn’t breathe.
“Charles, it’s alright. I’m just glad you’re not suffering without telling me. Besides, we finally had an opportunity to explain our exhaustion symptoms to Crystal. You gave her a very confused fright when she first walked in and saw you.”
“Oh, I bet.”
Both of them laughed, heads falling onto each other’s shoulder.
When they separated, Edwin took a step back. But Charles kept his hand where it was on Edwin’s waist.
“Can we…go to the sofa? I don’t…wanna let go just yet.”
Edwin just smiled, smitten.
“Of course, Charles.”
The two of them settled together on the sofa – it was a little bigger than their old one, but still too small to fit two nearly six feet tall teenage ghosts if they wanted any semblance of space between them. Luckily, these two ghosts specifically weren’t bothered about space.
Charles positioned himself practically on top of Edwin, curled up on his chest, quiet and still. Edwin’s arms wrapped around Charles’s waist, keeping him close. He’d never really known quite how much he wanted this – how much he craved this – just being this close to the boy he loved most, touching in any way they could. Charles shuffled impossibly closer, nuzzling his face into Edwin’s neck in the same way he had earlier while in his orb form. The only difference was this time, Charles left gentle kisses there too. This time, he could definitely feel the warmth of Charles pressed against him. This time, there was no stress, no anxiety, no panicking. This time, the two of them were all that mattered.
They held each other tightly. Two spirits, at their core just bundles of pure energy, transforming that energy into love for the other.
#actually loved writing this one#i always love writing these characters#i did also tear up writing this one soooo#deadboyween#deadboyween 2024#dead boy detectives#dbda#edwin payne#charles rowland#payneland#orbwin and chorb
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You Can't Hide Forever
This ended up a little longer than I thought it was going to, but I still think it's pretty fun :) This is an immediate continuation to Playing with Fire so I hope that y'all enjoy!
-
“You have five seconds to run.”
Those words echoed in Charles’ ears as he skidded through the halls of the building. A sort of of giddy nervousness bubbled up inside of him as he frantically tried to think of a place to hide.
He felt like a soda can that had been shaken up: bright and fizzy and full of energy just waiting to explode.
He hadn’t realized, but he’d needed this. It had been weeks since they’d had a proper break between cases and they were both completely wrong out. Between the stress that never stopped building and the rest they could never seem to find the time for, this was good for both of them.
They needed this reminder that they were allowed to still be kids every once in a while, that they were still allowed to play and have fun and laugh.
Charles felt as though he were floating on air as he ran from room to room, all of the pent up energy that had been itching for a way out finally finding its release in this chase.
Speaking of the chase, Charles could hear Edwin’s footsteps pounding not far behind him and steadily gaining. He should’ve known that this was a bad idea. Edwin had always been faster than him, he never took a false step, each perfectly placed to achieve maximum speed and distance with minimum effort and even less room for error.
Charles didn’t like to think about why that was, but he had to admit that it came in handy when they were on a case and they upset something they definitely shouldn’t have.
It was less handy when Charles was the one who had to escape Edwin, so he needed to come up with a plan.
He couldn’t travel through any mirrors because Edwin would be able to determine the path he’d used and would just follow him through. That would also break the unspoken rules of the game, which Charles was already pushing by leaving the office.
He couldn’t keep running because Edwin would catch up with him in no time, and he wanted this to be at least a little bit of a challenge.
Alright, hiding it is.
Charles quickly runs through his options as he skids around another corner and phases through a wall, hoping to buy himself a few precious seconds.
The office is too obvious with not enough places to hide, another person’s room would just be weird, and he doesn’t want to risk attempting to hide in one of the bathroom stalls.
So, the roof or the basement?
He can’t hear Edwin’s footsteps anymore.
That can’t be good.
Charles slows down, quieting his footsteps and phasing through walls when he can. He’s been up on the roof a few times, and it’s mostly open space which will not end well for him.
Basement it is.
The silence as he makes his way futher down is unnerving. Every time that Charles hears the faint echo of a creak, he freezes until he deems it safe enough to keep moving. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle, but every time he glances over his shoulder, there’s nothing there.
Finally, after what seems like forever, he finds himself in what he assumes is a storage room. There are cardboard boxes shoved up against the walls, there are lone pieces of furniture lying forgotten throughout the room, and there’s a large bin full of abandoned clothes in the corner.
Charles eyes that bin and thinks, Bingo.
He wastes no time in clambering into the pile of clothes, burrowing down until he’s fully concealed.
And not a second too soon, apparently, as he hears the steady click…clack… that accompanies Edwin’s casual stroll.
“Oh Charles,” Edwin calls out, “I know that you’re in here.”
Charles clasps a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the giggles that are already threatening to leak out. He forces his limbs to still so that they don’t give away his hiding spot even though he’s filled with energy that's thrumming just under his skin.
Edwin’s footsteps are growing closer and Charles fights the urge to shrink back. His pace is unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to draw Charles out. He walks with the easy confidence of a predator who knows that his prey is trapped, and is only toying with him until he decides to pounce.
“You can’t hide forever. You only managed to run for so long because you cheated.” His tone is lightly chiding, but Charles knows that he’s not really upset, and that he’s playing it up for the game.
“Do you want me to tell you what I do to cheaters? What I’m going to do when I find you?” A dangerous edge creeps into Edwin’s voice, that spark of mischief that they normally find in Charles is finally being directed at Charles.
At this point, Charles is wondering whether just giving himself up would be less torturous than what Edwin's putting him through with the endless teasing. The anticipation is ramping up inside him until he's sure that he might combust right where he is.
As Edwin makes his way around the room, making a show of narrating his search of each nook and cranny, of the revenge he plans on exacting, Charles wonders if this is how Edwin feels whenever he’s itching for some fun: nervous and excited and happy.
He’s filled with a warmth that comes with the reminder that he and Edwin are best mates. Of course, it’s one of the few certainties that he can rely on in his tumultuous afterlife. But this? Them being friends outside cases and mysteries and the occasional existence-threatening danger that comes with being on the run from Death?
It’s a feeling that he can’t quite put words to, but that he knows that he wouldn’t trade for the world.
The footsteps stop.
Suddenly, faster than Charles can blink, light floods his vision and he’s pulled out of the bin and backed up against the wall.
He looks up at Edwin’s grinning face, eyes dancing with a playful light as he rests his hands on Charles’ ribs. “Any last words?”
Charles puts on his most charming smile and offers the most insincere “I’m sorry?” of his entire afterlife. It makes Edwin laugh though, and that’s what matters.
Edwin’s not the only one laughing soon enough as Edwin curls his fingers into the grooves of his ribs. Frantic, high-pitched giggling tumbles out of his mouth and he barely lasts a second before his knees buckle and he’s sliding down the wall.
Not that it does much to help him. Edwin just follows him down, hovering over him and thwarting his feeble attempts to curl up into a ball, massaging Charles’ stomach in a way that has him throwing his head back as pleas for mercy rush out in between peals of laughter.
“Edwin! Edwihihihin please! I’m sorry! I’m sohohohorry! Shit- NO!”
Evil, cruel hands jump down to his knees and Charles is lost. He’s desperately kicking his legs, shoving away from the wall in an attempt to escape the electric shocks travelling through his legs.
“I’m not sure that you are Charles. Not yet, at least,” Oh that bastard. He’s got that smug look on this face and his tone just screams ‘I’ve got you right where I want you,’ “Oh, but you will be.”
Those words send a bolt of anxiety through his system, spurring another stream of frantic, if half-hearted, pleas.
What? This is the most fun he’s had in ages.
“Let’s see if we can drain the rest of that energy out of you, shall we? Maybe then you’ll let me get some work done? Unless…” he pauses for dramatic effect, because Edwin's a dork like that, “you feel like giving up?” Charles knows Edwin well enough to know that he’s giving him an out, and while he appreciates it, it feels more like a challenge than anything.
He should know that Charles has never been one to back down from a challenge.
He tilts his chin up defiantly, using the small reprieve to suck in some unneeded breaths, and says, “Do your worst.”
And, well, there are certainly worse ways to spend your afternoon than laughing with your best mate.
#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#edwin payne#fanfic#tickle fic#tickling#they are my special little guys okay?????#i love them your honor#they are the bestest friends of all time#ugh i am unwell about them#dbda#ticklish!charles rowland
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Agree with what you said about Charles! Though I would not say he is trying to still be a part of the living world, per se; but he is still mourning the life he never had. It's about his longing to grow up, I think, about how badly he wishes to be an out-of-touch boomer, instead of an eternal teenager. His disguise is actually a little bit older than he would have been, had he lived. He would be 51 in 2024, but the disguise looks more mid-to-late 50s. Which is interesting - he clearly is also extremely worried about turning into his father. I don't think there were a lot of positive adult male role models in his life; if his father is the only image of male adulthood he has, why does he long for it so?
It is about growth, I think. When he thinks about adulthood, what he actually longs for is healing. Growing up would have meant growing out of his horrible childhood, out of his trauma. I can just imagine him longing for the day he would finally be old enough to leave everything behind, how adulthood might have seemed like the promise of rescue. He would, in his mind, just have to make it to his 18th birthday to finally be safe.
Of course that never happened. And Charles never granted himself the opportunity to heal. After all, ghosts are eternally unchanging, forever stuck as echoes of the person they were when they died, and if he starts dredging things up - what would come out? What darkness lies at the bottom of his soul, what made him so wretched his own father couldn't love him? Better to leave all that buried. Better not risk showing the horrible secrets to anyone, certainly not Edwin.
He's stuck, he feels stuck, but how he longs for the life he never had. How he longs to be a man, approaching retirement - and how it is child's play, still. How he cannot imagine himself as an actual adult, all he has the image of adulthood he formed as a child. How he believes himself incapable of healing, so he keeps himself closed off and never allows anyone a glimpse behind the facade he has built.
So I'm watching the show yet again (usually I struggle watching shows, I don't know how I've managed to watch it twice already and still want to watch it a third time), and here are some things that I've noticed in episode 1, after the read more because it got longer than expected.
Charles calls himself the brawn and the protector of the two, but it's Edwin who goes all serious and says "I would not let that happen" when Charles asks what they'd do if Death came for them. I'm sure/concerned that he'd try to fight her if she ever came to take them...
Edwin knits!! When they are wearing their disgusses to get the demon out of Crystal he knitts while Charles reads the newspaper. Granted, you can only see him doing for a short moment, so I don't know if he's doing it properly, but I like to think he is. I have many thoughts about this, but it would take over the whole post. I'm still willing to make a whole post for it if anyone is interested but yeah. Bottom line is, Edwin can knitt!
The tone of voice that Crystal uses when she first wakes up in the Agency and in her walk with Charles is really different to the tone she uses the rest of the season. In hindsight, it's pretty obvious that is her mean girl tone, but still, I just think it's a nice detail.
Edwin takes Crystal's coffee cup when she takes the mail? We've just stablished he's not going to drink it, so is he just being petty? Is he going to throw it away or hide it just to be a nuisance? Is he investigating what she got? This boy, I swear...
I know people have pointed out all the Clue boards in the closet, but there's also a ouija board there? Hilarious. Maybe some ghosts prefer communicating with that instead of speaking? Or Charles got it because he thought it was funny and then never got rid of it?
I like that the thing that convinces Edwin to take the Becky Aspen case is Charles asking if he's going to let a little girl die. But more importantly, the title card right after that says "three flights". I've had this question for a bit, but what do they do during those flights? Do the boys spend those just standing in the hallway next to Crystal's seat? Do they sit in the cockpit? Do they hide in the bathroom until someone comes to use it? Do they hope for empty seats they can use? I don't know, every possible version of their trip is so funny to me. I know ghosts don't get tired like alive people, but the idea of them just standing awkwardly off to the side for more than 10 hours is hilarious.
No big detail here, I just love Crystal's purple coat thing she wears in this episode. Never really noticed that it has like flowers embroidered at the bottom, and the color of the whole thing is so nice.
"Maybe he's our fucking demon now." Crystal I love you, that is one of the funniest lines in the episode. I also really like that she gets to be angry and scared. Even if later Jenny talks her down from the worst it, it's not her anger that she points out, it's the fact that people are just like that and how the boys act is nothing personal. Her anger is not directly attacked (except by Edwin, but that's just him being petty), because she gets to be angry about all that's happening to her.
The flashback to Edwin's life at St. Hilarion's changes the video aspect (is that the proper term for that? It makes the screen square like in older films is what I mean.) Also he card for that flasback specifies "Edwardian England" even while having the date at the bottom. I don't know, it made me chuckle that they felt the need to clarify the era even while having the date there. They don't put "modern day England" for Crystal's flashback.
With the way the cat reacted to the sardine, I'm willing to bet he would have told Edwin everything without the binding spell if Edwin had a few more fish for him.
When they're talking behind the shop and Crystal says she gets angry, Charles looks down and takes a bit to respond. I think this is the first time he relates to her. The first time he can call that pull twards her something more than mere attraction. He has this very vulnerable look when she says it and then immediately shows her his parents and tells her something he's never told anyone before? This boy saw his anger in someone else and thought maybe it's fine for him to be angry too.
Is it a trick of the light in the scene where she meets Niko, or does Crystal have a septum piercing?
"If you're sticking around, you gotta let us in." Charles, I love you, but you are the last person who should be saying this. Specially after that sad look he gets when Crystal says it must be hard not being able to talk or hug his parents. You just agreed to what she said, as if that were the truth of why you check on them, what do you mean "you gotta let us in"? (I do get that they haven't known each other for long so he's not going to open up about all his trauma, but precisely because of that, it's wild for him to expect her to do it.)
I never noticed Charles quickly returning the mirror to normal when Edwin comes. I'd noticed the audio cue for the mirror changing back, but I never noticed Charles moving to do it and he looks so panicked about it.
Considering how Edwin is about touch, the fact that he lets Crystal take his hand when she tells the that the case matters is huge.
Why are they planning down at the shop when they have Crystal's room all to themselves? Besides the ambiance, of course. I think Jenny's reaction is completely justified.
Esther leaves her turntable on when she goes to the post office. Is it for Monty? The atmosphere? Did she just forget?
Not a new discovery, just a reminder of something I really like. There's this very specific editing thing (like the quick cuts between the instruments and then the opened lock, I don't know what to call it) that they do pretty much every time Charles picks a lock / opens a door, and it makes me very happy each time. The sound they use for it is perfection.
Edwin's attention to detail is insane. The fact that he can recall one cupboard is further forward than it was in the plans is really impressive.
Charles sounds so done when he throws the magic backpack. "Put her in the bag-of-tricks backpack." Man, I can hear the eye roll in that sentence. Good to know Edwin isn't the only bitchy one in this relationship.
And that's it for episode 1. I think I might do this for the others as well as I watch them. It was really fun to do, and it forces me to pay attention to the details, so I think it's worthwhile.
#are we having fun here i'm having fun :)#apologies for rambling on your post its just. charles is so. yk.#on a lighter note i adore the headcanon that edwin is into fibre crafts i'd love to read what you have to say about him & knitting!#my headcanon in this regard is that he cant knit but he CAN crochet#(my headcanon is also that he grew up with younger sisters so when he was a child he would sit in on their needlework lessons#until it was deemed 'inappropriate' and he was handed off to a tutor and later boarding school#but he learned to make crochet lace & picks it up again at some point just for something relaxing to do with his hands#and also after hell he has trouble conceptualizing passing time; a lace-trimmed handkerchief is time made palpable#if that makes sense)#dead boy detectives#thoughts
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DALLAS JACKSON.
my forever obsession. i feel like his story and margo’s story go hand in hand and when they’re put together, it makes so much sense why they are the way they are.
TW: DRUGS, ALCOHOL, VERBAL AND PHYSICAL ABUSE
CHILDHOOD (0 - 11)
dallas is the youngest of two. he was born in april and from the moment he was born, he became the centre of his mum’s universe. he never did anything to be that way; she always told him that he came at just the right time. he never really knew what that meant but it’d end up being the main thing that sent so many other things spiralling in the wrong direction as he grew up.
anywhere his mother went, dallas would be taken too. their parents couldn’t go on dinner dates without dallas coming along in his pushchair while margo stayed with her nanny. he’d go to lunch dates with friends and parties he was too young to be at. his mother was incredibly attached but to him, it felt like love and what child doesn’t want that? she’d suffered with postpartum after margo and dallas was her chance to redo motherhood the “right” way.
dallas never saw much of his dad growing up and when he did, it was during the late hours of the nigh when he’d come home in his suit looking tired. around the same time dallas would go to bed. they were fine though and had a better relationship than margo did with her parents.
dallas spent very little time with anybody his own age. he was desperate to be close to margo but jealousy pushed them away. he’d spend most of his time going to events with his parents and being around other adults.
he loved school because it gave him independence. he was free from his mother’s attachment and he got to make friends with kids his own age. he loved maths, sports and music the most; he was a member of many sports teams and also took part in any school concert that came his way. he was best on the drums and didn’t start singing until much later.
spending a lot of time at home meant that he got to see his dad’s career grow and has more happy memories of his childhood and his parent’s marriage than margo does. however, his mother’s obsession with him did used to make him feel like his dad resented him in a weird way, though. it never showed in huge ways and he came to the conclusion it was just in his head. he was only 11, after all.
TEEN YEARS (12-18)
high school started out weird for dallas. knowing who he is now, people would expect him to have been popular from the get go but he actually really struggled to make friends. spending most of his childhood with adults over 30, he struggled to connect with teenagers - and especially boys - his own age.
he did get in with a group of guys but he was very clearly the weakest link or the one they’d bully and pick on just because they could. he’d shrug it off as a joke but it made him hate school. a lot. it was in the 12 - 14 year old range that he stopped doing sports or putting a lot of effort into school. it didn’t effect his grades because he’s naturally gifted in academics, but he lost his love for learning and school in general.
dallas spent most of his younger teen years not being invited out and watching his friends have fun without him. he still went to events with his parents just to get out of the house. agreeing to sing at a christmas party led him to signing a contract with charles hamilton’s music label. over a summer, he made his debut EP and released a single.
he blew up. almost instantly. the song ‘one time’ was a hit and he was almost certain that this would earn him respect at school. it turned out to be the reverse; he was mocked. people would play his songs ironically and he was called every name you could think of. he even got beat up a few times because of it. it made him miserable and he begged charles to terminate his contract. that never happened but he never, ever wanted to make music.
studying and working on his first full length album, dallas met ruby at school at around 13 and she was the first friend he had that didn’t insist on making a joke of him. he learnt she was adopted by edwin carmichael which made her a family friend; she was the person he mainly started hanging out with and he gradually got to know her friends which opened him up to a new circle too.
separating from his first friendship group was positive, he started to love sports and music again and school became somewhere he could tolerate. he posted music online and ended up releasing ‘baby’ - another song that absolutely blew up and sent him into stardom way too early.
his mum became his manager and helped him balance school and all of his new career success, something else that earned him a string of horrible texts and comments from margo. at this point, he never saw her and she despised him for taking everything she wanted.
he didn’t have much time to think about it. the older dallas got, the more financially successful he became and by the time he hit 15, he was the highest earner in his family. at around he same time, cracks in his parents marriage was showing at home.
his dad never tried to hide the fact that he hated dallas for earning more than him and for a good few years, his father had control over his money. anything he earned went straight to mr jackson. dallas never saw a penny...and because his dad had a gambling addiction, a lot of it went down the drain.
by the time dallas reached 18, he had multiple offers from talent academies and academic universities. he originally chose to go to yale and study physics. he’d had a taste of fame and the music industry and didn’t want it.
dallas’s father had put money aside for him when he was 18 for college. so, he used that to pay his tuition fees. however, after only one term, the account was drained and he didn’t have the money to stay. he worked jobs at bars and shops to pay his way but one job payed more than most and that was drug dealing. not hard to come by on a campus of over privileged kids. however, he was quickly caught and asked to leave.
dallas came home to a completely different environment. his family were bankrupt and his dad had sold the law firm. they were living on loans and their parent’s marriage became massively toxic. he saw his dad beat his mum, multiple times, and when he rushed to defend her - which he would every time - he’d get the same treatment.
he felt like he didn’t have the option to move away like margo, who would take care of their mum? that’s what drove his decision to stay local and go to st judes. but, he hated margo to leave him to deal with his dad’s mess and find a way...on his own...to get them money. suddenly, he was trying to find a way to pay rent, his sister’s rehab bills AND tuition for st judes so it was back to dealing.
YOUNG ADULT (18 - 23)
easily the hardest years of his life. his young adult years have been stress, after stress, after stress, but he’s also not one to ask for help. still being massively successful in music, he threw himself into his rising fame with his albums ‘BELIEVE’ and ‘PURPOSE.’
any chance he got to act like a kid and forget about the responsibility he has, he takes it. whether that’s getting into petty fights, dating around, getting too drunk or acting impulsively.
pressure from both being a big name at the academy and from his family has driven him to darker places. he’s struggled - multiple times - to have healthy romantic connections because he’s used to people being dependant on him; starting with his own mother. the minute somebody gets too attached or asks too much of him, he’ll lash out. on the flip side though, he likes to be needed.
mental pressure is mainly what led his last relationship to become abusive and after that, he hit rock bottom. believe it or not, it’s definitely learnt behaviour and the last position he wanted to find himself in.
dallas’s mental health has taken the biggest blow. after a handful of seriously failed relationships and having no home life anymore, he was diagnosed with depression mid-2020. something else he rejects intensely. he refuses to have the same diagnosis as his dad and refuses to speak of it or tell anyone or ask for help.
TW: SUICIDE
2020 and early 2021 had him make two separate suicide attempts that were recorded in the press as drug overdoses. the truth of the matter is that he isn’t an addict. he takes drugs but isn’t a slave to them. he doesn’t want to ruin his life or become numb to it; just end it.
END OF TW
in more recent months, dallas has picked up on his music career again and is STILL trying his best to support his parents and pay margo’s withstanding rehab bills. after being in hospital, the academy have forced him to go to therapy, something he does privately and this accounts for him slowly improving in his behaviour again but he’s definitely forever on thin ice with how his life’s going.
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From Sky to Space: John Young, the Astronaut’s Astronaut
By Benjamin Vermette
When you think of great human achievements, you may think of the Pyramids and other human-built wonders of the world, or of Einstein’s General Relativity theory and other complex products of pure intellect, but you must not omit the moon landings. In fact, landing on the Moon was – in my opinion – by far the greatest triumph humankind ever accomplished. It required an unprecedented amount of organisation and perseverance in order to bring to life, in an extremely limited and troublesome timeframe, the dreams and wonders of every human to touch that little grey ball in the night sky.
To set foot on the Moon, you need a bunch of people – some scientists, some directors and other administrators, some politicians, a ton of engineers, but mainly, you need precisely that: a foot. A lot of people volunteered their foot, but in the end, only 24 feet were chosen, and they were those of (in order of walking on the Moon): Neil Armstrong, Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, Pete Conrad, Alan Bean, Alan Shepard, Edgar Mitchell, Dave R. Scott, James Irwin, John Young, Charles Duke, Jack Schmitt and Gene Cernan. Out of those 12 men, only four still live today (Aldrin, Scott, Duke & Schmitt); a couple of months ago, seven were still walking among us.
When Eugene Cernan passed on January 16, 2017, I thought I’d write a piece about his life (http://espritdecorps.ca/from-sky-to-space/from-sky-to-space-a-period-of-mourning?rq=gene%20cernan); he was, and still is, one of my favorite astronauts. And when I heard the passing of John Young on January 5, 2018, I thought I couldn’t go on without at least addressing his career. But before doing so, let me honorably mention Alan Bean, fourth man on the Moon, who died on May 26, 2018, at age 86. An artist who depicted his out-of-this-world experiences through paintings, Al Bean will be remembered as a humane, down-to-earth astronaut. Now, here is a too brief account of the life of another of my favorite astronauts, John Young.
John W. Young (1930 – 2018)
There is always that one guy who never wants to be in the spotlight no matter how successful he is; just like an uncomplaining dark horse, riding along the toughest roads known to men, and doing it without complaint. John Young was that kind of guy, possessing enough skills and working hard enough to be arrogant, but never being so.
Young was born in San Francisco on September 24, 1930, although his family and him quickly moved to Cartersville, Georgia, before moving again to Orlando, Florida. He always described himself as an “old country boy from the south”. His inherent passion for aviation became evident at an early age, as one of his pastimes was to build model airplanes. He then went on to earn a Bachelor of Science in Aeronautical Engineering from the Georgia Institute of Technology, before entering the U.S. Navy through the ROTC program in 1952.
In 1954, he earned his aviator wings to fly F9F Cougar jets for VFA-103, the famous Jolly Rogers squadron. Four years later, Young became a part of the United States Naval Test Pilot School Class 23 where he set two time-to-climb records with the F-4F Phantom II, climbing 9,843 & 82,021 feet in respectively 34.52 & 227.7 seconds. He was in fact a very skilled pilot. As fellow astronaut and former NASA administrator from 2009 – 2017 Charles Bolden recalled, Young and Robert ‘Hoot’ Gibson were the two best pilot he ever met: “Never met two people like them. Everyone else gets into an airplane; John and Hoot wear the airplane. They’re just awesome.”
Later in 1962, Young was selected alongside Neil Armstrong among the ‘New Nine’ group of astronauts, three years after the original Mercury Seven. In preparation for an eventual spaceflight in the Gemini program, Young and his fellow colleagues trained 16 hours a day, doing exercises ranging from land & water survival to mental & physical fitness. During those harsh days of training, he started to gain the reputation of the modest, hard-working man who seems to make all the tough jobs effortless.
In 1965, he finally flew in space for the first time on Gemini 3, the first manned Gemini mission, with his friend Gus Grissom, who later died on Apollo 1 during a capsule fire on the launch pad in 1967.
Gemini 3 is a classic mission in the history of space exploration; a lot of things happened. Although the mission was a near-textbook one on technical terms – in Young’s words: “Gemini 3 was truly an excellent engineering test flight of the vehicle” – it had a minor incident concerning a … corned beef sandwich. Unsatisfied with the food served in space, Young decided to smuggle a corned beef sandwich in his suit, without warning anyone until he actually started to eat it in orbit. Unlike NASA and people on the ground – who were heavily concerned that the crumbs of the sandwich could mess with the electronics on board – Grissom thought that it was quite a joke, taking a few bites himself: “John’s deadpan offer of this strictly non-regulation goodie remains one of the highlights of our flight for me.”
Gemini 3 was the mission that gave John Young his name. Flying in space was not common in those days – Gemini 3 was only the seventh manned US spaceflight – so astronauts, upon their arrival on Earth, had a traditional welcome parade in the streets of New York and held public appearances with the President. Passing from a southern introvert to a superstar in days was a radical transformation – one that Young wasn’t prepared for. But still, he clung to his reputation of the least emotional man on Earth by showing no signs of fear, and by seeming everything but unprepared.
Soon, the glamorous days were over and Young had to get back to training. He was preparing for another spaceflight, and doing so by logging countless hours in T-38 Talon jets (each astronaut was given one for personal use). It was said that flying the T-38 wasn’t ‘risky’ enough for the astronauts, that they thought it wasn’t ‘spaceflight-like’ enough (a T-38 wasn’t nerve-racking as much as a small capsule on top of a missile). So, the legend says that Young invented a challenge that later became a matter of honour for these spacefaring men: flying the T-38 on an near-empty fuel tank. Today, this practice would be prohibited, but it still shines light on the character that was John Young: a fearless man who always wanted more – the definition of living life at its fullest!
A bit more than a year after his first spaceflight – in July 1966 – Young was to leave humanity’s cradle for a second time; this time, as commander of the Gemini 10 mission with fellow astronaut Michael Collins. Gemini 10 had a tough mission plan: they had to rendezvous and dock with an Agena booster in low-earth orbit, then use this booster to climb temporarily to almost 800 km of altitude, then drop the booster and meet with a second one (left in space during the Gemini 8 mission), and then wrap up and come home. This mission was set in order to test three critical objectives needed to eventually land on the Moon: rendezvous, docking & EVA (extra-vehicular activity – spacewalk). Note that the difference between rendezvous and docking in space is that the latter necessarily implies that two spacecraft physically connect to each other, while the former only means that the two spacecrafts meet at a reasonable distance from each other (usually around 15 meters). As the mission comprised some of the trickiest maneuvers ever attempted, Young’s wife didn’t want him to go. In a typical John Young manner, he apparently replied: “It’s my job.”
Even though the second rendezvous with the Agena booster at 800 km of altitude was completed without electronics, or, in Young’s words, completed “by eyeball, the kind of old technique that you would use in pre-World War I days”, the mission was a success.
But now, the Gemini days were over – it was time for what all those years of preparation were all about: the moon landings, or the Apollo era.
Two months before Apollo 11’s mission in July 1969 – the historic one when Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin first wandered on the Moon – John Young, Gene Cernan and Thomas Stafford flew on Apollo 10 on what was to be a “dress rehearsal” for the first moon landing. As Young piloted the Command Module in orbit around the Moon, Cernan and Stafford flew the Lunar Module to about 15 km off the lunar surface – the point where the powered descent would begin on the actual moon landing. Gene Cernan once told journalists that NASA intentionally cut in the Lunar Module fuel tank in order to prevent the crew from actually landing on the surface; had they not, Neil Armstrong probably wouldn’t be as popular.
In 1972, John Young had his fourth and most prominent spaceflight: he commanded the fifth moon landing, Apollo 16. Along with Lunar Module pilot Charlie Duke, Young spent 20 hours on the surface on the Moon, driving the Lunar Rover for about 30 km and collecting 211 pounds of lunar rocks and thus becoming the ninth person to walk on the Moon. While Young and Duke where collecting rocks and raising dust on the surface, Command Module pilot Ken Mattingly was orbiting above, performing observations of the surface of the Moon.
As mentioned, John Young was one of the calmest and most fearless astronauts. Those characteristics were heavily displayed while he was sitting inside the capsule on top of the gigantic Saturn V rocket right before Apollo 16’s liftoff: “I found out from the flight surgeon later on that my heartbeat was 144 at liftoff,” said Charlie Duke. “John’s was 70.” In his 2012 autobiography Forever Young: A Life of Adventure in Air and Space, John Young wrote that he “was either calmer than I thought I was or, as I later noted in the space shuttle, I was too old for my heart to go any faster.”
Later in 1972, Apollo 17 became humanity’s last manned mission to the Moon. NASA’s focus shifted from the Moon to Low Earth Orbit, passing from the big and mighty Saturn V rocket to the smaller, reusable Space Shuttle. The thing with the Shuttle was that it had to be landed like an airplane. That meant that NASA couldn’t fly an unmanned mission first to test it – usually, NASA would fly the rocket alone a couple of times before putting astronauts in it. So, for that kind of first mission, you needed a calm, experienced and skilled astronaut to fly and land the Shuttle. And you guessed it, John Young, who now was NASA’s Chief of the Astronaut Office since 1974, was chosen to command the first shuttle mission, known as STS-1, in 1981.
Later on, the Shuttle went on to carry seven astronauts at a time, but in a hazardous mission like this, NASA thought risking only two lives was more than enough. Even Mission Control couldn’t do much more than to wish Young and Crippen plain luck: “John, we can’t do more from the launch team than say, we wish you an awful lot of luck. We are with you one thousand percent and we are awful proud to have been a part of it. Good luck gentlemen.”
Mission Control’s wish was fulfilled, as John Young landed Space Shuttle Columbia in what was Crippen’s “softest landing [he’s] been into”.
Young made his sixth and final spaceflight in 1983 as commander of STS-9, a mission that carried Spacelab’s first module to space. He was assigned to fly on STS-61-J and to make a record seventh spaceflight, but the Challenger disaster in 1986 delayed launch schedule.
Young worked for NASA until he took his retirement in 2004, thus becoming the longest-serving astronaut ever.
He passed from complications of pneumonia on January 5, 2018, at the age of 87. His life of conquering both sky and space and of never-ending service to NASA demonstrates his genuine spacefarer character, while his modesty and perseverance show the gentleman he truly was. A cold-blooded pilot like no other, the uncomplaining dark horse will be remembered, although his desire to never be in the spotlight contributed to his fame not being proportionate to his skills.
To my favourite astronaut; may you stay, John, forever young.
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