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it’s weird seeing photos of jayden revri in the lodge, because at the time of filming, he was probably charles’ age. noah/jayden looks incredibly young in the lodge, but THAT is, physically speaking, an age-accurate charles rowland

THIS is the charles rowland that was murdered by his friends at school

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My sympathetic nervous system is the boy who cried wolf

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I was watching Dead Boy Detectives yet again and just noticed that the recaps make the show infinitely gayer. Can I support my opinion? No but I’m standing firm on it anyway.

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Happy anniversary, Dead Boy Detectives! (A few days late lol)

This is the first fandom I’ve been in from the start. I’ve loved seeing it grow and seeing all the inside jokes and headcannons sprout. This is also the first fandom I’ve been active in. I joined Tumblr because I wanted to interact with other DBDA fans. I couldn’t have asked for a better introduction to the internet. Everyone has been nothing but kind.

I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. This show has bewitched me, body and soul. I’ve never been so creative and I can’t wait to make more fics/art

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I love this so much. Every frame is stunning and the sound bites from the show are perfection. You’ve commemorated this show beautifully. Well done

Soldier Poet King Dead Boy Detectives Animatic

Happy Anniversary to the best show I know

This show means so much to so many people and we WILL save it, the agency has cases left to be solved🔍 This community has and will continue to inspire me to create and to be myself, so thank you for letting me be apart of it, and I hope you enjoy. Happy anniversary to us, and to two very special dead boys♥️💙

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The Nightfish lovers are about to get fed 🙏

@brainrotbee and probably hopefully a few other people can look forward to my only 100% definitely-happening anniversary-week fics being pure self-indulgent Nightfish fluff

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My back pain has lasted longer than most of my friendships

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Please do. Like actually

Reblog if you're okay with receiving asks for backstory info on any/all of your fics.

If not all, specify which ones in the tags.

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I’m sick and haven’t the energy to develop this thought right now, but: Charles has Edwin magically lojacked. A tracker tattoo, tiny pale blue runes tightly laced together on his upper bicep. The tattoo is only a few inches wide but took nearly a full day, due to the delicacy of the work, and the quick-spoiling magical ink.

(Charles was worried about it hurting - he knows Edwin’s pain tolerance means he’d barely even notice a normal tattoo, but this ink is potent - but Edwin assured him it was totally fine, and didn’t flinch or twitch or react at all, during. He did, however, vehemently insist that Charles not get his own tattoo, when Charles suggested it a few years later, and Charles has some uncomfortable suspicions about why.)

When Crystal learns about the tattoo, she assumes it’s because of the same thing they’re using it for when she learns about it: Edwin has a habit of getting himself kidnapped. She thinks lojacking your partner feels a bit of an extreme response, given that surely there’s only so often even Edwin can be kidnapped, but, well, Charles can be kinda overprotective. And they explain that the tracking can only be activated by Edwin himself, which makes her worry less about it being a red flag situation.

That’s not the reason, though.

It became less of a problem, over the decades, though it still is sometimes, but in the early years it was a near-constant issue:

Edwin’s a bolter.

When he gets stressed, or upset, or scared, he runs. Faster than Charles can keep up. And, early on, he was stressed, and upset, and scared, pretty much all the time.

If it were just normal running it might be fine, but he’s got magic, too, mirrors that he started being able to run through long before he learned how to reliably get back, mirrors that he doesn’t always check before diving in. Even now when he should be able to find his way back he’ll sometimes panic and bolt too fast to look through the mirror he’s going to only to fall through and find it’s inaccessible from the other side - a mirror placed high on a wall or ceiling, or too damaged for two-way travel, or under saltwater.

So Charles has had to hunt Edwin down on other continents, in deserts and grassy plains, in haunted mansions, in London warehouses and backstreets. Found Edwin on the sea floor in the Mediterranean, once, having gone through the mirror in the captain’s cabin of a sunken ship.

Knelt down next to him, where he was sitting, on a mostly-rotted floor. “Hey, Edwin.” He was worried his voice might not carry, here, a couple miles under the surface, but ghost voices don’t depend on breath, anyway, and Edwin seemed to hear him just fine.

Edwin glanced sideways at him, then back to where he had been looking before. “Corallium rubrum,” he said. “Mediterranean red coral, also known as Precious Coral. Valued for its vivid red color throughout history, but has suffered from intensive harvesting in recent decades. There are hardly any sizable colonies left at depths of less than 50 meters.”

“Right,” Charles said, and shifted to look at the coral, settling from a kneel to a cross-legged sit, a few feet from Edwin. “It’s really pretty. They doing anything to try to bring them back?”

“A little,” Edwin answered. “They are extremely long-lived, so it is difficult to determine yet whether those efforts will be successful.”

The delicate, feathery white bits on the coral flickered and shifted constantly, which Charles hadn’t known coral could do, and he sat there, with Edwin, watching. The fragmented skeleton in the corner swayed a bit in the current. Finally he scooted towards Edwin and gently bumped their shoulders together. “You think you’ll be ready to go back soon?”

Edwin leaned against him, and nodded, and let out a heavy breath, which made the water swirl and the coral’s feathery bits twitch. “How did you get here? Are you - I know you don’t like deep water - “

Charles shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine, mate. This isn’t the sort of water that bugs me. ‘Sides, it’s not like I was gonna just leave you down here, yeah?”

Edwin nodded again, and pressed harder into Charles’s shoulder for a moment before bracing a hand against it to stand up. “Well,” he said, turning away from the coral to face Charles. “Let’s be off. How did you get here? Please tell me you didn’t use that favor from Turner just for this.”

Charles looked sideways at the skeleton as he used Edwin’s hand to heave himself up. “Of course not.”

“You did! Charles, do you have any idea…”

And Charles let Edwin’s scolding voice wash over him with the current, and grinned back at him, and led him home.

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“Where the huzz at? What on Earth is the huzz? Why are you laughing?”

(Inspired by @sthilarions post about Edwin learning modern slang)

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I can see Niko and Crystal doing the parents reading brainrot challenge with Edwin and absolutely losing it.

I know our assumption tends to be that Edwin avoids modern slang but actually, like, canonically what we see is that he doesn’t know much but wants to. Like, he doesn’t just hear slang terms and go “ew children these days and their illiterate gobbledygook”, he asks for definitions. (“What is a handjob?”) He’s trying to learn 21st century slang like it’s Ancient Aramaic.

So please imagine for me him seeing some sort of eldritch monstrosity, raising an arch eyebrow, and saying, in his most prim and disdainful tone, “Hmm. How skibidi.”

Crystal and Niko are clutching each other trying not to fall on the floor laughing and Charles is like “What does - was that a spell, mate?” and Edwin turns to him, solemnly.

“It is utterly lacking in rizz, Charles.”

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Rewatching Dead Boy Detectives as always. Edwin’s look of utter confusion in the Delvin house at the VHS system followed by, “I don’t know how any of this works,” is sending me.

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What if... Dead Boy Doctors?

救急救命室・Accident & Emergency

I loved this prompt so much! Cool doctor Charles with his Figs and Hokas, and buttoned up somehow even after 12 hours Edwin run that A&E like no other doctors can. Someone write them as doctors!?

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Foolish Pairing Fest Day 4: Esther x Litty

~

Esther kicked a dusty skull to the side. The gothic forest thing had been out for a while. Whoever was in charge of this stretch clearly knew nothing. She took a puff from her pipe and spotted the clearing in front of her. Perfect. Now she didn’t have to kill her dryad informant for lying. Well, she’d consider not killing her. The little sapling girl was really annoying. 

She strutted towards the shrine in the center of the clearing. Hopefully, she’d never have to enter the woods again. If she left with sticks in her hair, there would be hell to pay. Once she reached the shrine, she put a hand on her hip as she looked around for the sacrificial coins or whatever they were. 

“Who are you?” 

Esther looked around but didn’t see anyone. She couldn’t be hearing voices this early in the morning. Happy Hour wasn’t until later. Then she spotted it, a tiny woman in a God-awful argyle number. 

“Aren’t you adorable?” Esther cooed. “The hat really makes you look like snowball cake.” She took a step forward and tapped the shrine with her cane. The sprite fell over from the force of it. “I could just eat you up.” 

“And your skirt reminds me of tacky curtains,” the sprite shot back. “Makes me want to hang you.” 

Esther raised an eyebrow. She was good. Who knew that a little sprite could be the one to match her energy. “Listen, sweetie,” Esther began. “I need some of those coins sitting there behind you. Now, you can either let me take them or I can live out my lifelong dream of seeing what a smushed sprite looks like.” She smiled. “My theory is similar to bugs on a windshield.” 

“Those coins are ours,” the sprite said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Sorry, babe.” 

“What’s your name, little one?”

“Litty.” 

“Oh.” Esther curled her lip. “Unique.” She brushed a blonde curl out of her face and took another puff. “Listen, shitty-”

“Litty.”

“Whatever. I need those coins and since you’re living in my town-” Esther shrugged. “-It’s only fair.” 

“The forest isn’t a part of ‘your town,’” Litty argued. “But I totally believe you. You definitely look older than Port Townsend.” 

“Careful,” Esther warned sweetly. She revealed the knife on the end of her cane and ran a painted nail over it. “Or things could get messy.” 

Litty scoffed. “Please. I’m a god.” 

“So am I.” 

They stared at each other. As much as Esther hated to admit it, she was having fun. Finding gal pals was such a hassle. Things were always easy in the beginning and then they did something to make her mad and she’d inflict horrifying and sometimes life-ending curses on them. It was honestly such an ordeal. 

“I like you,” Esther said. “So instead of taking the coins, I’m willing to barter.” She sheathed the cane-knife. “Is there anything you want in exchange.” 

“Bartering. God, what are you, a pilgrim?” Litty sighed and thought for a while. “You’re a witch, right? Wrinkles, trashy clothes, grating voice?” 

“That’s rich coming from a schoolgirl lookalike, tree-hugging sprite,” Esther replied. “And your pleats are uneven.” 

Litty looked down at her skirt before looking up in irritation. “Anyway, I want a potion.”

“What kind?” Esther asked in boredom. She was going to smush this little twerp if it was an intensive potion. 

“Something to teach a two-faced moron a lesson.” 

“Done.” Esther snapped her fingers and a hair growth potion appeared. She wondered how it would affect something as tiny as a sprite. Not her circus, not her monkeys. “Now the coins.” Without waiting, she scooped them up and set the potion down on the rim of the shrine. “I would say it’s been a pleasure,” Esther said, examining her nails. “But it really hasn’t. Au revoir.” 

She began walking away, taking care to crush one of the forest skulls on her way out.

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Guys, I actually kind of hate Dead Boy Detectives. Now that I’m over the initial hype, the rose colored glasses have fallen off and it’s not that great of a show. Rant under the cut

APRIL FOOLS. I’m so cool and intelligent, right guys? My love for his show will never die (unlike the boys and Niko)

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Foolish Pairing Fest Day 3: David x The Notary

~

The Notary stamped a form. Then another form. And another, and another, and another. She inhaled the scent of ink. Perfect. Her tranquility was cut short by the presence of another. She opened her eyes and saw a demon standing in front of her, from the E42 legion, lust. She closed the manila folder and leaned forward. This should be good. 

“I don’t recall having an appointment.” 

“I didn’t make one,” the demon snorted. He leaned against the desk and the Notary pushed his dirty fingernails away from her papers with a pencil. “I’m David.” 

“No appointment?” she repeated. She must have heard wrong. There must be something amiss. Surely a lower level demon wasn’t wasting her valuable time. “So you simply walked in here, no preparation?”

“Uh yeah,” David said. “Isn’t that obvious?”

The Notary took a measured breath. “You must be unaccustomed to the way things work around here.” She dug around under her desk and produced a form. “This needed to be filled out and confirmed before you arrived.” 

David didn’t take the form. “I’m not doing that.” He leaned forward. “You’re going to tell me where Crystal Palace is or I’m going to gut you.” 

The Notary smiled. “This is the department for dead children.” She pointed with her pencil at the Lost and Found sign. “So unless you have information on a missing deceased juvenile, I suggest you take your leave.” 

David scoffed. “Do you know who you’re talking to, lady?” he demanded. He spread his arms out wide. “I’m an immortal agent of Hell. What are you?”

“I don’t think you want to know.” 

“Enough.” David reached for the form and crumpled it up. “Tell me how to find Crystal before I-”

The Notary sighed in satisfaction. No more interruptions from him. She brushed some ashes off her desk before returning to her work. 

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I love this more than I can express

It started as a joke, but I kind of became invested in the process...

I imagine them bonding over being married to their jobs. They synchronize their lunch breaks, but since none of them can eat, they spend time chatting instead. The Notary talks about her children (those that "graduated" under her jurisdiction), and the Postman shares how proud he is of his (the ones he delivers mail to). For both of them the job comes first, and they respect that in each other.

For DBDA April Foolish Pairing Fest organized by @savethedeadboys