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Day 2: Roses

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Payneland Promptfest Day 1 - Intimate

Little poem for the first day of @paynelandpromptfest: Valentines Edition! 💕

Soft lips trailing down his neck

Taking his time taking him apart

Methodical, meticulous

Charles tips his head back, a plea

Disguised as invitation

The answering smirk against his skin says enough

Edwin’s gotten so good

At reading him

Open as a bloody book

Charles tries his best to keep the mask off

So Edwin can relearn

Each crinkle at the corner of his eyes

Every twitch of his lips

No more secrets

Couldn’t keep nothing from him now anyway

Could he?

He’s sure his partner feels it

As a whine breaks free from his throat

Win hums against his skin

Always one to appreciate his work

Deft fingers toying at his collar

Tugging gently at his chain

Soothing against his spectral flesh

‘Til Charles can’t help but press closer

He’s sure Edwin’s catalogued

Every noise

Every movement

Every minute reaction he draws out

Filing it away for later

Or just adding it to

The dragon’s hoard in his mind

Pleasure in the mere knowing of the thing

I know you

Says every slide of his lips

Flick of his tongue

Graze of his teeth

I know you

Charles pulls him tighter, holds him closer

It feels so good to be known

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The case of the two dead boys

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1 day remaining until the start of The Rest of Forever: A Payneland Promptfest!

We can't wait to see what you've come up with! 💞

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Day 1: Heart

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Thank you so much, @anaart-stuff for this adorable Niko icon!!! I love it so much and had to change my icon immediately! You all can get your own here!

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sometimes i think about charles + edwin’s notebook…

after edwin was dragged to hell, how carefully and reverently charles picked up edwin’s left-behind notebook that he always kept in his inside breast pocket tucked right up against his heart. how gently and lovingly charles held that notebook, as if he was cradling edwin’s own heart in his hands...

how at some point, edwin must have shown charles his hell maps in the notebook. but also, perhaps, just like edwin’s heart is tuned to charles, so is his notebook. maybe his magical, infinite notebook, his most sentimental and important item—that he came back to st. hilarion’s to retrieve after getting out of hell the first time, which led him inadvertently to charles—is also attuned to charles and perhaps it helped him to more quickly find the maps that would take him to edwin…

how edwin’s notebook led charles to edwin in hell. how edwin transcribed those maps into the notebook from memory in case he would ever need them again, yet in the end it was not edwin who used them to save himself a second time but charles, his love, his soulmate, who used them to rescue him. edwin, never expecting to be rescued, and charles coming for him dutifully following those maps…

how edwin crawled out of hell and found his notebook still where he left it, 73 years later, that connection to himself, to being a payne, as fraught and laden with complicated memories as that was.

how after being torn apart and reconstituted, erased and rewritten uncountable times, he still wanted, valued, looked for that connection to self. how edwin found charles too, the unlooked for answer to his heart’s loneliness, and how charles became edwin’s person.

how charles holds the notebook as though at first he can hardly believe what it means that it is in his hands, that it has been entrusted to him, that it connects him with edwin across planes of existence. how charles receives the notebook the way he receives edwin’s confession and edwin’s love, disbelieving at first, then instantly intent on safeguarding it, honoring it, caring for it...

and how charles uses the notebook to find edwin, he brings it to edwin in hell, he brings edwin’s heart back to him, brings edwin back to himself as no one else can, because he is edwin’s heart…

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The Edwin edit I made last week 😆

@montythehumancrow @spiteful-summer-of-sixteen @philosophershroomie @mrnightingale

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My favourite quote in relation to the show actually came from my sister, who said, " Isn't it odd how Edwin and Charles skipped friendship and went straight to homosexual codependency?"

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So, the boys' desk is weirdly wide?? and I just realized it's because it's a partners desk.

There are drawers facing us and also presumably where Edwin sits.

" A partners desk, partner's desk or partners' desk (also known as a double desk) is a mostly historical form of desk, a large pedestal desk designed and constructed for two users working while facing each other. The defining features of a partner's desk are a deep top and two sets of drawers, one at each end of the pedestal" - Wikipedia

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Valentine's Day!!

The boys finally get a happy moment after going through the canon events

This was a commission for @i-am-as-normal-as-you-are so thank them for the cuteness!

The bonus is completely my fault though:

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@dbdakindy has a vice grip on my heart and soul, and baby Monty is everything to me 🥺

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🐾 + payneland

“Dearest.” 

It was whispered into Charles’ spectral skin with such adoration that his throat tightened. He tilted his head to capture Edwin’s lips to silence him.

“Darling,” Edwin whispered as they parted.

“Edwin,” Charles stuttered, trying to catch some air even if it had been more than thirty years he needed any.

“Beloved,” Edwin continued, kissing down Charles’ neck. “My heart.”

“Edwin, please,” Charles whined, feeling his cheeks burn. “I get it, love, I get it,” he assured. Edwin raised his head and looked into his face.

“Good, because the next time you call me ‘mate’ while we are making love, I will not be so kind.”

--

Aaah, thank you for this request! :D

Request a drabble!

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sunshine, let us love you💖💖💖

(I will fill this world with women)

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handful of doodles from the few weeks in early 2024 when dead boy detectives took over my life....

(all older art so sorry for the wonky/inconsistent style)

i was never really able to figure out how to draw their faces well, so i have a looooot of doodles of them like this:

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so like. i have a lot of thoughts about monty finch and sexuality and bodily autonomy and they're only half-coherent so like. strap in.

okay, so monty's gotta have some very complicated feelings about personhood/dehumanization/consent/sex/etc. that would take him ages to unravel, whether you slap him in au or in canon. there are just so many things to say about how monty was created to be an object of pleasure, of desire, and that if this show didn't play out in literally exactly in the way it did, with edwin already interested in charles/etc., then things would have gotten so dubious and complicated so fucking fast because sex is literally what esther was aiming for when she created monty. what does that say about identity and personhood and dehumanization of self both on an internal and external level, all of those comments she makes about his "handsome/charming face" and how he was made to "seduce/tempt" combined with the fact that she is his creator.

esther finch is the closest thing that monty has to a god and a mother and an owner and she is telling him that his only purpose is to be an object.

to be created to be consumed. to be created to be devoured, to be an object of pleasure and desire, to be made to be destroyed, to be hungered for but never be allowed to hunger, to be punished the moment you stray off the path, the moment your feelings become true, to be expected to perform romance/sex by the person who created you, made you, crafted you to be pleasing to the eye, to be made to be used up because you were never supposed to be a person in any way that mattered.

i have too many thoughts about the gothic horror specifically of monty and esther finch and the scenes that take place within esther's house that have less to do with "ooh, spooky crow" and more to do with subjects of taboo and the absolutely fucking creepy vibes that esther has because she collects little girls and birds and she makes monty and the fact that that house is a haunted house before charles and edwin ever fucking enter it, it's haunted by the girls it devoured, it's haunted by the magic that it devoured, monty is implied to have already been killed in crow form before in that house, and he is reconstituted into the form of the Born Sexy Yesterday Trope, he is boy and he is bird and he is designed to be pleasing to the eye and he is a trap like the snake pit is a trap, pulling in magic, pulling in death, he is born out of his own vicious, bloody, death with the intention of luring in someone for their own death but the only two characters who actually display sexual/romantic/whatever interest in monty are characters who are either literally a predator (a cat to a bird) or a self-described predator (esther herself) and monty is supposed to be a predator, chasing after his target, but he is only ever prey.

anyway i find it funny how every character on this show seems to be living in a slightly different genre (whether that be a murder mystery, a psychological thriller, a character drama, a coming-of-age-queer bildungsroman, a rom-com- niko and jenny and maxine in episode 5, shoutout to the girls, etc.) and how the scenes between monty and edwin are shot like a rom-com/sweet romantic story of their own but the fucking moment you pan over to esther watching or to the scenes with esther and monty in esther's house or even to the scenes in the forest you realize that monty, more than any other characters (save the devlin house, shout-out to the devlin house), is living in a straight-up gothic horror and for a moment he manages to convince himself that he's not because if he allowed himself to register the truth he would not be able to process it/allow himself to function within the role that esther crafted for him, as he literally admits with his comment about "all these human feelings"

anyway like. i. just. have. a lot of fucking thoughts all the time about the intersection of parental/guardian abuse and monty's experience with romance/sexuality/bodily autonomy and what all of that bound up together means.

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Monty sits down to his first meal as a human.

Esther sets the plate down in front of him and the scent of meat and root vegetables makes saliva pool in his mouth.

Words pop into his mind as his eyes scan the plate... steak, roasted potatoes, parsnip and carrots... He doesn't know how he knows the the names, he just does.

He sits quietly with his hands in his lap hands fidgeting and mouth watering, eyes darting around, glancing at Esther as she starts on her own plate, watching her until she snaps at him to start eating or starve.

He looks at her through the corner of his eye and copies what she's doing, carefully picking up the fork and knife, mirroring her hands- albeit clumsily as he tries to cut into the steak.

He manages to get a piece of meat onto his fork and moans softly as he pushes it into his mouth. The flavors burst on his tongue, his eyes flutter as he experiences a variable kaleidescope of flavor, more than was ever biologically possible as a bird.

His teeth sink into tender meat, the fat creamy and perfectly rendered. He can taste the butter it was seared and basted in, the fragrent rosemary and subtle sweetness of the garlic.

But the flavor of the meat is what sticks with him the most, deep, rich and savory. His cutlery scrapes and clatters noisily on the plate as he rushes to cut himself a second bite, oh how much more food tastes as a human.

A few days later Monty finds himself outside Tongue and Tail chatting with Edwin. He's getting distracted mid conversation by the most wonderful scent wafting through the air as he shyly tries to ask Edwin out on a date.

Behind Edwin, Charles and the girls are clambering around inside a dumpster doing god knows what, it's only when he catches a glimpse of glistening raw meat being stuffed into a plastic bag that he identifies the scents source.

He scurries off once Edwin accepts to go for a walk at a later date, a smile playing on his lips as he dawdles behind a nearby building until they've left. Once they're gone he cautiously walks back, following his nose to the dumpster, the scent making his mouth water as he gingerly climbs in.

Thankfully they hadn't taken all of the leftover scraps, the dumpster is still filled with a plethora of old cuts of meat. Most of them are strips of waste and fat trimmings, but there are a few large chunks of meat littered about.

Monty grabs a fat slice that's a slick glossy red, bringing it to his lips. It has a mildly sour aroma as he sinks his teeth into it but it's not off-putting. He moans unabashedly as the flavor of the meat coats his tongue as he slowly chews and swallows the chunk he'd bitten off.

He decides then that he likes meat raw better than he does cooked, the flavor is more intense, the richness concentrated. He licks his fingers and wrists clean from the red juices that had run down them.

He'd eaten raw meat as a bird, but he'd never had teeth or a tongue with this many taste buds, it's utterly divine.

He only exits the dumpster after he's practically eaten half his body weight in raw meat, scaring a poor man half to death as he climbs out of it, face and clothes covered in blood and meat juices.

He climbs into the window of his room in Esthers house and falls asleep on his bed immediately completely sated, awoken only by Esther screaming bloody murder as she finds him in the mess he made of the sheets once white sheets.

He smiles apologetically at her, his teeth and mouth still red with blood, then gets up to wash, he has to clean up for his date with Edwin later today.