#NOT DEAD YAYYY

[coconut530]

WHAT A CHAPTER 🩷🛻🤝🏼🎆💚

[shay-j-scribbles]

treating myself after any minor inconvenience

[hanbeeart]

everybody say thank u mr cawthon

[charlioak]

my name is jack marston

[faggotwalkwithme]

redrew a comic cover ^_^ (og under cut)

[patt-is-cool]

some rdr2 doodles lol god i gotta figure out how draw them

[kieranduffylover3000]

I CANNOT WAIT TO GET MY IPAD SO I CAN DRAW MORE FANART FOR YOU GUYS 👍👍👍❤❤❤

[writerfromthestars]

DP X DC PROMT: Happiness? In this Economy?

Dick convinces Jason to go with him to a party because he apparently "needs to socialize". At this party is also Danny, who is majoring in astrophysics at Gotham University. They run into each other, hit it off, and end up hooking up.

Danny has class in the morning, so he leaves before Jason wakes up, hurrying to get his day started and completely unaware of the fact that some of the ectoplasm he produces has seeped into Jason. (Neither of them tell each other their names, or maybe they're too hungover to remember? Idk, but they don't know each others names. It was also too dark for Jason to see Danny's face.)

Jason wakes up, wondering how the hell the cute guy from last night managed to leave without waking him up. He also feels happier than he has in a while, which he attributes to the fact that he actually had fun last night instead of scowling in the corner.

But the happiness, the calm, it just... Doesn't leave? For some reason?

At first, Jason is willing to accept that maybe the univers is just giving him a day off from the Pit Rage, God knows he's earned it, but when the end of the week is drawing closer and he's still no closer to figuring out why he's so goddamn pleasant all of a sudden, he starts to freak out.

He tracks this unnatural calm back to the party, and at first, he thinks someone spiked his drink. But the only people who were close enough to do that would be Dick, who would never do that, and his unknown, unnamed hookup.

Now, Jason isn't a very paranoid person, but he was raised during his early teens by the goddamn Batman, king of paranoia, so he immediately draws the following connections:

1. His unnamed hookup was able to roofie him without him noticing, bat training and all.

2. That drug, whatever it was, was strong enough to subdue the Pit Rage, and, seeing as it hasn't returned, that could be indefinite.

3. The only person who has ever been able to remotely control the Lazarus Pits is Ra's Al Ghul, and he still ended up a murderous sociopath, so obviously he doesn't have a good handle on it.

4. This random dude that he met at a goddamn college party may be the most powerful sorcerer in the world.

5. He need sto find this guy before she raises an undead army.

Thus, Jason finds himself in the awkward situation of explaining to his father that he may or may not have hooked up with a being more powerful than a man who runs an assassin cult and calls himself a demon.

The bats immediately begin searching Gotham for this guy, pulling out all the stops to stop this guy before they gain a new supervillain.

Meanwhile, Danny is peacefully going about his life.

Then, he runs into his one night stand and they start dating. Everything is going great for him! Moving to Gotham City was the best thing he's ever done!

Now Jason is even more panicked, because he just met this really cute guy, and now they're dating, but it's a horrible time because he's still trying to find this Eldritch creature.

Bonus ( to add to the misunderstandings):

Say Danny's trans. It's about now, a few months later, that morning sickness makes itself evident.

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

Okay, so I don't usually post my fics directly on tumblr (usually just on ao3 with a link on here) but ao3 is down atm and I finished the dbd x mphfpc fic!

Tagging @fellow-fandom-fruitifier bc he asked :)

Um...I'll add what would be tags here:

Fandoms: Dead Boy Detectives (TV), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (Books)

Not really any necessary content warnings. Just a nice little case without anything dangerous, for once.

Word Count: 2069

The Case of the Lost Boys

Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives find themselves on the island of Cairnholm, investigating the whereabouts of a wandering ghost and his unfinished business.

While London alone was teeming with ghosts with issues to solve, occasionally ghosts brought cases from farther away. Typically, these cases were much simpler than what would, 25 years later, lead them to Port Townsend.

One of these cases, back in 1998, was The Case of the Lost Boys. 

The ghost of a young woman arrived in their office one afternoon. While the case didn’t necessarily concern her directly, she had spent a lot of time with the affected ghost. A young boy, around Charles and Edwin’s age, had been wandering the island of Cairnholm for decades, the woman said. He was looking for something—someone—that just wasn’t there. The woman paid them sufficiently, and Charles and Edwin agreed to take the case.

Mirror hopping led the two detectives through the mirror inside a bathroom, which was attached to a motel room, which was above a tavern. The sheer amount of noise coming from below caused Edwin to simply walk through the wall to get outside, instead of going down the stairs and through the tavern on the ground floor. It was one of several things that freaked Charles out every time Edwin did it. To his credit, however, Edwin was trying to do it less when Charles reminded him of it. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t still forget from time to time.

Edwin walked through a second floor wall and landed on his feet on the ground outside. A few minutes later, Charles was next to him, having taken the long way around. “Mate, you can’t keep doing that! I know you’re fine, but I still forget we’re dead sometimes.”

“Right, my apologies. I’ll use the door next time. I simply didn’t care to walk through such a loud establishment.”

“Next time, we’ll take the stairs and walk through a wall on the first floor, yeah?”

“Agreed. Now, let us track down this wayward ghost, shall we?”

After a bit of walking, the two detectives found the place their client had mentioned the boy to frequent. They had to wait a while, but, sure enough, the boy wandered through the bog and up near the old, previously bombed out house on the far side of the island. Once they were sure he’d stay there for a while, Charles and Edwin followed him up, Charles holding his cricket bat out in front of him.

“Excuse me,” called Edwin, “but we were called because we were told you might need help.”

The boy turned around. He’d been tearing through pieces of the house, searching. “My sister. She was here.”

“When it was bombed during the war?” asked Charles. He hadn’t quite gotten around to explaining the second world war to Edwin, but Charles knew London and other parts of the region had taken a lot of damage. He’d paid some attention during his history classes.

“Yes, but it always reset before anyone got hurt.”

“What do you mean, reset?”

“The bird reset it to the night before the house was destroyed. We would watch the show each night before bed. Then I went out one night, and I died. I can’t get back in. I haven’t seen her in years!” The boy punched a wall, causing chunks of it to fall out. Charles pulled Edwin backwards, out of the house entirely.

“I think he’s lost his mind,” said Charles, once he and Edwin were alone again. The two of them were poring over Edwin’s notes.

“It seems he’s lost his sister, and, though the house was bombed with her in it, he believes she’s alive.”

“He mentioned it all being reset. Sounds like a time loop, doesn’t it?”

“That it does, Charles, but we cannot see it, and therefore we cannot break it.”

“Is that even the problem, though? If he just sees his sister, he’ll move on.”

“That would be quite easy, Charles, if only we knew where the sister was.”

They didn’t even know the ghost’s name, and now they needed to find his sister, too? This wasn’t as easy as they thought it would be.

Charles and Edwin returned to the island the next day, after spending the night in the office reading up on time loops and delirium in ghosts. This time, they used the stairs to exit the tavern, and by the time they reached the old house it was midday. Despite the sun being high in the sky they still couldn’t see very well in the old charred house. Charles pulled two flashlights from his backpack and the search continued.

Eventually, Charles found a hole in the floor. “Edwin, come look at this!”

The boy in question followed Charles’s voice until they were both looking down into the hole. Edwin went down into the hole while Charles stood lookout, just in case the ghost boy made another appearance.

Inside the hole in the ground, Edwin found a trunk of old photos, featuring children doing largely impossible or supernaturally odd things. As he sifted through them, a second light appeared above his head. It was a soft glow, like a fireplace, and Edwin looked up right as Charles called, “Edwin?”

A girl stood next to Charles, holding a ball of flames above the hole to see into it better. Edwin heard her voice echo as she asked Charles, “What are you doing here? Who are you?”

“Stay back,” warned Charles, pointing his cricket bat at her.

“What. Are you doing. In our house?” asked the girl, punctuating each set of words with a few steps forward. Behind her, Charles soon noticed, were a smaller girl, likely about seven years old, and a boy the older girl’s age that gave off a faint buzzing sound if it was quiet.

“We were just leaving, actually.” Charles took a step back.

“Good,” said the girl.

“Emma,” said the younger girl, “we should go before we’re late for lunch.”

Emma grimaced, turning around towards the two that were with her. “I suppose so. The bird will be angry if we’re late.” She cast one last warning glare over her shoulder at Charles, and then the three of them were gone.

Edwin climbed back out of the hole, with help from a rope Charles had in his backpack, and reported his findings to Charles. “It appears to be a group of syndrigasti: a variant of human with an extra soul. These extra souls give them special abilities, such as the boy’s ability to do so much damage around this place, and the girl’s fire.”

“So, his sister must be one too?”

“Not necessarily. It’s a relatively rare condition, however, it is especially likely in this case. If he cannot find her, and neither can we, she’s likely in a time loop for the living. Only syndrigasti can enter, and we are not that.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad then, does it? He can go in himself and find her.”

“Not if he died in a certain way. If the creature that killed him consumed his extra soul, then he can no longer enter the time loop, as he said before. We will need to get the sister to leave the loop temporarily.”

“How do we do that?”

“I do not know. I suppose if we can find another occupant of the time loop, we may be able to get a message across. For that, however, we’ll need more information from the boy.”

“What about that girl, Emma? She had abilities, didn’t she?”

“We don’t know for sure that she lives there, though it is likely. Unfortunately, they’ve gone, and we still do not know how to enter the time loop.”

Later in the day, the detectives found the boy in the same place as the day before. Charles stood by with his bat while Edwin questioned the wayward ghost. They learned that the boy’s name was Victor, his sister’s name was Bronwyn, and that he had, in fact, died in the way Edwin had suspected. 

The one good thing about all this was that he remembered how to enter the time loop. Charles suggested writing on the cave’s wall and hoping they’d see it when one of them left again. Edwin, however, thought it might frighten the children if they saw a note reading “Bronwyn, your brother is looking for you”, considering Victor had been dead for decades.

Instead, Edwin wrote out a neat note and attached it to the wall of the cave:

Bronwyn Bruntley,

I am from the Dead Boy Detective Agency. We were called in about your brother. His ghost is still on the island in the present day. Until he has closure, he will not move on to his afterlife. Victor’s unfinished business is seeing his sister again. Once you receive this, it would help both of us if you could leave the time loop temporarily to reunite with your brother.

Sincerely,

Edwin Payne

Edwin and Charles stayed on the island late into the evening, watching the mouth of the cave for someone to take Edwin’s note. Eventually, the note seemingly disappeared on its own. It moved like it was being removed from the wall by a hand, but there was no hand. It floated through the cave and disappeared through the other end.

Less than an hour later, two girls and a floating hat emerged from the mouth of the cave, each of them able to see Edwin and Charles (or so they assumed). One of the girls, the one that wore trousers and a shirt, asked, “Are you Edwin Payne?” She held the note in her hands.

“I am Edwin Payne. You must be Bronwyn.”

“I am. You found my brother?”

“We did.”

Victor, who had been all but dragged over near the bog by Charles earlier, stepped closer to the girls.

“Wyn?”

“Victor!”

The two siblings embraced so tightly that anyone else might have bruised a rib from it. Edwin and Charles gave them a bit of space for their little reunion, until, eventually, Edwin had to burst their bubble.

“I do not mean to bring down the room, but since your unfinished business has now been finished, Death will be coming to collect you shortly. Therefore, Charles and I must be going, now.” Edwin turned on his heel and began to walk away, Charles shortly behind him. 

Then, the other girl, Emma, called out, “Wait!” and Edwin stopped. He turned back around to look at her.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know if you work with the living at all, but I’ve been looking for a certain boy since the last war. If I give you a name, can you send the results to our post box in town?”

Edwin’s expression softened slightly, and he pulled out his notebook and pen. “Of course. What is the name?”

“Abraham Portman.”

This second, smaller case did not require that the Dead Boy Detectives remain on Cairnholm. The two of them did, however, have to use their disguises that would allow them to appear living. They searched computers and phone directories until they found the man Emma had been looking for.

The two ghosts finally found Abraham’s house in Florida, in the United States. Mirror hopping there was easy. The difficult part was deciding how to explain it to Emma. Abraham was married by then. He had a wife, two children, and his son even had a son of his own. So much time had passed since Emma was this young. Edwin understood far better than he’d have liked to.

Edwin ultimately wrote Emma, sending the letter to the postbox she gave the address to. Charles looked it over for sensitivity purposes, and then off it went. A week later, Edwin received a letter in return, thanking both he and Charles for putting in the effort to help her, even though she didn’t get the answer she wanted. Attached were a few paper bills as payment.

Although Edwin continued to be baffled as to how she was returning his letters, he continued sending them. As it turned out, despite having so many other children living with you, the novelty of a ‘pen pal’, as she called it, was slow to wear off. 

Letters were sent back and forth between Cairnholm and London regularly for a solid twelve years, and then, suddenly, they stopped. Edwin, unsurprisingly, began to worry. That is, until he received a letter from Florida, instead of Cairnholm.

Emma, it seemed, was doing just fine.

[mike-wheeler-hater]

I can’t believe that I’m turning my tumblr notifications on again… I can’t believe the time has come. Byler nation is back

Im gonna celebrate

[rafeandonlyrafe]

a mini ficlette to say sorry for not uploading as much recently that ended up not at all being mini and being almost 1k words but im posting anyways bc i will get more consistent i swear

also posting on mobile (so the formatting is probably shit) so not doing taglist bc idk how to do that lol. will properly fix everything up when i get home have my precious laptop

enough blabbering, here is the ficlette!

“sarah!” you whisper again, but your friend doesn't budge. you sigh and climb out of bed, glad that its a california king, big enough for both of you to share comfortably, and for your thrashing not to wake her up.

you warned sarah that you were prone to nightmares and didn't mind sleeping on the floor or in one of the guest bedrooms, but sarah insisted it was fine to share as she's a deep sleeper. you look back at her as you slip out of the room, realizing just how true that is.

you walk down the stairs quietly, glad that the stairs don't creak too loudly. when you reach the first floor, you pause to make sure you didn't wake anyone up before wandering through the house. aimless pacing is your best solution to getting over a nightmare, moving your body to tire it out and easing your mind at the same time.

you hum softly to yourself, a comforting tune your mother used to sing to you when you were a child. you don't know the name of it, but the melody is cemented in your memory.

you admire the art on the wall, your eyes having adjusted to the moonlight shining through the windows enough to make it out. you see a movement out of the corner of your eye and gasp, turning when the noise reaches you of the front door closing.

“what are you doing awake?” rafe asks, his voice low as he sneaks back into the house. what you didn't know is that he stayed out late just to avoid you, not wanting to get involved with his sisters friend but unable to control his emotions when around you.

“i-i had a nightmare.” you explain, eyebrows knitting together as you wait to hear the judgement coming from rafe. a scoffing laugh at still getting nightmares, maybe him calling you immature, a child, but it doesn't come. in fact, his face softens.

“im sorry.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, briefly pushing it off his forehead before it falls immediately back into place. “what usually helps?”

“walking around.” you wave your hand in the air, indicating that you just wander.

“can i join you then?” rafe offers, and you give a small nod. “yeah. yeah, totally.” you smile as rafe comes to your side, joining each other in slowly walking around the first floor of the house. you're silent for a couple minutes before you start to hum again, not missing the smile that graces rafes face when your tune begins.

your music is interrupted by yawns, until you're doing more yawning than whistling. 

“come on, let's get you to bed.” rafe says when you pass in front of the stairs, a firm hand on your back. you nod, letting him partially support your weight as you walk up the stairs.

“thanks, rafe.” you say softly when you reach his door.

“will you be okay?” he asks, a hand smoothing over your hair, his fingers twirling the end before dropping it. “i mean, with your nightmare.”

“i-i probably will be.” you say honestly. usually once you have a nightmare that wakes you, you don't have another when you manage to get back to sleep.

“you can-” rafe clears his throat, his eyes darting around your face. “you can sleep in my bed. if you want… with me.” rafe clarifies after a moment when you just silently stare at him.

“like… cuddle?” you question, wanting to make sure his intentions are very clear.

“yeah. cuddle. i can hold you so you don't have any more nightmares.”

“yes. yeah” you nod, “id really like that, rafe.”

“okay.” rafe smiles, opening his door and letting you walk in first.

you don't spend time looking around the room, heading right for the bed hoping that rafe doesn't see your shaking hands. 

rafe moves with you, pulling back the covers so you can climb in, and you let out a soft sigh when your head rests against the pillows. you lay still as rafe adjusts next to you, pulling the covers over both your bodies.

you're silent for a moment, before rafe turns and looks at you in the low light, “gonna come closer?”

you let out a soft giggle, sliding to meet rafe in the middle of the bed. his arms wrap around you, your head coming to lay on his chest, feeling natural and right as you lay a leg over his, your bodies fitting together as if they were meant to be.

“if a nightmare wakes you up and for some reason it doesn't wake me up, just shake me awake.”

“okay… thank you rafe.” you say, laying a hand over his chest. 

rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand coming to cautiously rest on your lower back, and when you let out a hum of approval, he begins to rub over your pajama shirt.

“what do you think sarah is going to say when she wakes up and im not there?”

“don't worry about sarah. don't worry about anything right now, y/n. let's just get some sleep and we can worry about things in the morning.”

“okay.” you nod, picking your head up to look at rafe, his skin reflecting blue from the moonlight. you lean forward and press a light kiss to his jaw, and then another stronger, more meaningful kiss to his cheek. you move for his mouth but pause before you fully make contact.

“in the morning.” you whisper, not wanting to make a serious move on a sleep deprived brain, and rafe nods, eyelashes fluttering.

“in the morning.”

[moonyfr]

Summer break !!! Finally !!! I am free !!!

[mugentakeda]

i just loveeeee the idea that there was a big gap of understanding between lu ten and iroh the same way theres a big gap of understanding between zuko and iroh. mistakes that iroh didnt realize he made with his son he then also made with his nephew and still not realizing it. a whole world of things about lu ten that iroh didnt know about, and will never know about. im gonna talk about it though because i am insane so look away from my cringe

lu ten had gone to his father with problems before, and iroh cant help but wonder, now, if his son had ever been trying to imply deeper things in between sugarcoated words because there were things you just didnt say in the palace, and irohs head had been so far up his ass he hadnt seen it. despite it being waved practically right in his face by his son, desperate for sound advice from his father, whos brain was too waterlogged by thoughts of how he was going to pull off his next bloody conquest. like how zuko was always howling for help, hurt and confused like a cornered animal, hidden deep under his fits of rage, and irohs head was Still so far up his ass that he kept meeting zukos silent begging for straightforward guidance with convoluted proverbs. he can sit here and bury his face in his hands in shame over the sheer amount of times hed failed his nephew without realizing, and how much convincing it'll take to get his nephew to understand that yes, iroh did fail him so many times, and he couldve prevented so much suffering simply by holding himself to the same standards he held his nephew to. all those times during those three years before the avatar returned that he couldve done something. sit here and think about how sad it is that he has to even try hard to convince his nephew such a thing, how sad it is that he finally got zuko to stop seeing ozai as some all-wise god that can do no error as a father, just for zuko to start seeing iroh as some all-wise god that has done no error as an uncle. but he can at least go and do something about it. he can never do something about what he did to his son. the things he knows he did, the things he doesnt know he did, and everything in between. he will never find out what lu ten truly thought about him. he will never have that reconciliation, that silent scream of relief and violent shiver in the crook of his neck that zuko gave when iroh yanked him in close after their separation, with his lu ten. he just has to hear about his own son through word of mouth and somehow be content with that. and worst of all, its all his own and his god damned family's fault. no amount of healing and learning by trying to do right by zuko and the world he helped nearly ruin not much more than a half decade ago can act as a balm for the agony that brings him. he knows healing his guilty conscience isnt supposed to even be a reason for why he helped the avatar, but god- it's when the rationality leaves him and he realizes that this is something he cant seem to make himself be the bigger person in. he knows its his own fault, that there are hundreds- thousands, maybe- of earth kingdom sons he personally stole from earth kingdom fathers, and only gave up on his siege when the consequences of his war came into his own backyard, but he cant help it. doesnt want to help it. hes still angry and hateful anyway. his son should still be here. his son should still be here. his son should still be here. and if he tells zuko about how much he still hates himself as both an uncle and a father, zuko will definitely rush to reassure him, all the while he is chained to his desk and meetings day in and day out, fixing this uncles mistakes best he can, losing sleep and forgetting to eat. none of it will mean anything to zuko, if it means he can make his uncle feel better. and if that happens, iroh might actually vomit in front of his nephew.

[lixues-fang]

Heres my current fic btw! Working on the second part right now :].

[sine-fine-inanis]

Just started watched dead boy detectives and it's so cuuuute (apart from the gory murders occasionally) and also oh my god i need Charles and Edwin to get together.

[mxboxlocks]

normalize making two versions of your ocs: the one you made when you were a kid (fully unadulterated cringe) and the current version that has matured. anyways. this is cassie. she's part creeper. she has a long lost twin sister and is secretly a queen