#dirk gently phone

[miryel89]

"Listen, this is just speculation, but I may be in actual Judeo-Christian Hell"

[dont-offend-the-bees]

’Cause You Cut Through All the Noise

Happy Painland Week! Day one is LOVE LANGUAGES! I could've picked touch or gifts or quality time or whatever as my love language but you know what? No. Life-affirming therapeutic domination. Edwin's love language is ordering Charles around. Fight me. Anyway, no smut here, but some steaminess/flirtation/allusions to sex. Some light angst bc Charles starts off in a bit of a spiral, bless his heart. Don't worry, Edwin'll put him right <3 (Quick translation note for any Americans reading: I'm referring to Charles' suspenders in British English, i.e. as braces rather than suspenders. Suspenders for us are generally the little sexy straps for stockings and would instantly up the kinkiness of the scene at least 70% (which I am in favour of, it's just not the fic I'm writing right now lmao)) 5.3k, M-rated, also available on Ao3. Thank you @painlandweek for putting this all together! Enjoy! 💛

Sometimes it seemed that the more Edwin learned, the less he knew. Or rather the more he thought he knew, the more he had left to learn.

Acquiring knowledge on any particular topic, it seemed, was only building the groundwork to question it further. Perhaps that's what an expert was, in the end: not a vast repository of facts, but one skilled in the art of digging for more. Not a pursuer of answers, but a pursuer of more interesting questions. Edwin had found it to be much the same across fields, across all his broad areas of interest and study.

Charles Rowland was one such area of interest.

It was quite astonishing; but thirty years into their partnership, Charles still managed to elude Edwin's understanding. Frequently. He was a lively, complex butterfly who simply would not be pinned (metaphorically, that is. In the more literal sense, he was most certainly not opposed to being pinned by Edwin. But he digressed.) They must have exhausted every conversational avenue two dead boys could traverse by now. How, then, could they persist in finding new things to say to one another? How, despite a mere sixteen years apiece of life before death, could they still find anecdotes unshared, secrets unspoken? Despite knowing Charles better than Edwin knew himself there was always, always more to learn.

And a great deal of learning had been done over the last eighteen months or so, indeed. Since the chaotic inciting incident: the now infamous milestone Case of Crystal Palace. Crystal, in all her messy human glory, had taken a battering ram to their comfortable routine. She'd rather shaken things up in the process — and thus, shaken a fresh slew of secrets from Charles and Edwin both.

Edwin's biggest secret was no longer a secret, of course. It was now common knowledge — though Charles, loyal to the last, hadn't shared it with another soul. He hadn't told anyone of Edwin's confession, nor had any official announcements been made by either of them as the 'situation' developed. But develop it had, in ways difficult to overlook. In touches, in kisses, in soft words and flagrant flirtations. Edwin imagined their friends and colleagues must have put two and two together by now, vis-a-vis Edwin and his feelings for Charles. And if they hadn't... well, it would certainly raise some concerns about the quality of their detective work.

Charles, likewise, had revealed a secret or two. Far less pleasant ones. Secrets that, in his more cynical moments, Edwin wondered if Charles would ever have told him without external pressure. Without Crystal's well-meaning badgering, or the Night Nurse's former villainy. Secrets about his family, his father, himself — or at least his own perception of himself. Harrowing they may be, but Edwin had filed each secret away carefully. Each bitter truth was a new supporting fact, a new data point. A fresh insight that peeled away Charles' brave face, and shone an interrogating light upon decades of behaviour.

Edwin had always known, of course, that Charles was not merely the plucky optimist he purported himself to be. Glimpses under the mask were rare, but inevitable. He'd have been foolish not to notice. But Edwin was not inclined to go picking at scabs. So what if Charles wished to maintain an image of himself? Image was everything; or so Edwin had been raised to believe. How a man chose to present himself to the world spoke volumes. Charles wished to be seen as a positive force, and Edwin had always respected him for that. Loved him, even, though he hadn't known it at the time. Charles' insistence on being a stubborn idealist had awed, amused and frustrated Edwin in almost equal measure. He wouldn't have changed it for the world.

But it was one thing to know that the chipper, animated, relentlessly positive Charles he'd come to know was a crafted image. Finding what lay behind the mask was another. It was a new level of understanding, of intimacy, to finally know the bedrock that lay beneath every too-bright word or action.

Charles Rowland was an inveterate people-pleaser.

In retrospect, of course, it made perfect sense. Edwin had sat with it, applied his new knowledge to a thousand interactions, and found it fitting. It had been a relatively easy fact to accept into his broader understanding of Charles.

The bitterer pill to swallow had been in realising just how often Edwin was, himself, a person Charles felt the need to please at all costs.

Edwin liked to think that their relationship had improved since those various revelations. It had certainly changed in notable ways. Especially since last November. Bonfire night. The night Charles had kissed him under the fireworks and thanked him, sheepishly, for 'waiting for him to get his head out of his arse'.

But the kissing and... other activities weren't the only new additions to their relationship. Moreso than ever before, there were repeat and regular attempts to open the lines of communication. They did not always succeed in those attempts. Charles' fear of rocking the boat and Edwin's discomfort with emotional outpourings were at odds with one another, and often left them at an impasse.

Nevertheless, Edwin was determined to try. Charles deserved nothing less; there had never been a person, alive or dead, more deserving of Edwin's trust. And it was the dearest wish of Edwin's afterlife that he could be the same for Charles. That he could be a person Charles need not perform for, or hide from. That he could be allowed to know Charles, to learn him, inside and out.

And while there was still, undeniably, work to be done, Edwin truly believed progress had been made. Through trial and a considerable amount of error, they had come to... understand certain things about one another. About what they each wanted, what they needed. Edwin was making leaps and bounds in the highly specialised field of Charles Studies.

So when Crystal stormed out of the office after another of her and Edwin's (admittedly rather petty) spats, he knew Charles needed attention before her footsteps had even faded.

"Charles?" Edwin prompted, with caution. He was not always an expert at 'reading the room', but in reading Charles he was growing more fluent by the day.

His dear friend's eyes snapped to him with a hunted look. Just as Edwin had thought they might.

Edwin cleared his throat. "Are you... alright?" he asked.

Charles, in that practised manner of his, plastered on a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, mate." He couldn't seem to look Edwin in the eye. "I'm brills."

Hm. A likely story.

He should have suspected this might happen, in the wake of such a heated disagreement. The very air in the office still seemed to ring with the reverberating slam of the door. An overreaction, really. Even mere minutes later, the whole altercation seemed rather silly. But such things were bound to happen on occasion. Edwin had certain opinions, and no qualms about arguing in their favour — and in Crystal Palace, he'd met his match. The two of them often wound up in the unfortunate scenario of a minor dispute devolving into a full-blown tiff. Such squabbles generally didn't end until someone (Charles) laughed and broke the tension, or someone else stormed off.

Edwin didn't doubt that all would be well shortly enough. If their pattern held, Crystal would come slinking back in a few hours. She and Edwin would exchange either sincere regrets or stilted half-apologies (depending on the severity of the argument). Then they would smooth over any remaining awkwardness by finding something minor to agree on (usually something Charles-related), and go swiftly back to normal.

But that resolution was some time away, yet. And in the meantime the air hung heavy; saturated with ire and discontent. Charles, emotional sponge that he was, was clearly bearing the brunt of it — and, as usual, trying his utmost to 'laugh it off'.

Edwin responded to the blatant fib with a single raised, questioning eyebrow.

Charles flinched as if struck.

Oh, dear. The situation was more dire than Edwin had thought.

“Charles,” said Edwin again, softer this time. It was important not to go on the offensive; in his current condition, Charles was liable to take any careless word as keenly as a knife in the back. “Please tell me what’s on your mind.” After a moment’s consideration, he added: “I promise I won’t be angry.”

It felt like utter nonsense to say out loud, a patronising placation as one might give to a child. But Charles, in Edwin’s experience, responded well to directness. His panic thrived in the mires of ambiguity.

Releasing a ragged breath, Charles rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “Just… dunno what to do sometimes. When you two go off at each other.” He peered at Edwin with his uncovered eye, and tried for a smirk. It fell short of the carefree, playful expression it was aiming for. “Dunno what side to pick, do I?”

He voiced it like a joke; but Edwin was listening well, and he knew an incomplete sentence when he heard it. He stepped closer and, slowly, giving him time to retreat, took Charles’ free hand and squeezed it.

Charles closed his eyes, dragging his hand down his face. “Can’t keep you both happy,” he admitted on a low mumble, like it was a shameful secret.

Guilt curdled sour and heavy in Edwin’s stomach, but he kept it from his face. Any indication that Charles had made him feel bad was bound to make him shut down further. “It should not be your duty to keep the peace,” he said, choosing his words with care. “I will speak to Crystal later, clear the air.”

Charles nodded, but remained hunched unhappily in on himself. Propped against the edge of the desk as if he needed the support. Edwin could see his brain turning itself over and over in miserable little spirals; wondering if he should have stepped in earlier, said something else. Wondering what he could have done differently to make everything better. To make everyone happy.

Edwin swallowed tightly, and placed his hand upon Charles’ shoulder. “Charles. Look at me, please.”

He did so, without question or hesitation. Responding with ease to the polite command as if it had come from his own subconscious. Quick, and keen. Already Edwin had a strong suspicion of what was needed to calm him; but it was always important to test the waters, first.

Edwin, with great care, hooked a finger through the gold chain around Charles’ neck, and tugged.

The effect was instantaneous. Charles’ wide, fraught eyes softened, slackened, his lined eyelids drooping. His lips parted around a quiet sigh, smoother than his last ragged exhalation. His shoulders slumped as if a great weight had been released from them.

Charles may be an ever-unfolding and expanding area of study. But to Edwin’s expert eye, on occasion, his needs were remarkably simple to interpret.

Meeting his now somewhat unfocused gaze, Edwin leaned in. “Put Crystal out of your mind for now,” he said, a quiet command. “In fact, put everything out of your mind.”

“She’s upset,” Charles mumbled in half-hearted protest.

“Yes — and she will continue to be so for a while longer, regardless of what you or I might say.” Edwin smoothed the collar of Charles’ polo shirt. “When the dust has settled, I will find her and smooth things over. I promise. For the time being, you’ll do none of us any good with your overthinking.”

Charles snorted. “Overthinking? Me?” he joked.

With another gentle, but recriminating tug of the chain, Charles gasped and quieted. Already, his bright eyes were taking on a dreamlike haze.

Edwin sighed and leaned close, ‘til his nose grazed across Charles’ cheekbone. “Granted, your tendency to underthink before making dangerous choices borders on the pathological,” he teased. “But I suspect you’re thinking a lot of very unkind thoughts about yourself right now, and I’d like for you to stop. Please.”

Breath shuddering, Charles’ hands lifted, fisting in the front of Edwin’s waistcoat.

“That what you want?” He asked, his voice a small and broken thing. For all his strength of body and character, he felt as vulnerable in Edwin’s hands as a baby bird.

“How about I tell you exactly what I want for a while,” Edwin offered. “And then all you have to do is listen.“

He delivered a swift, dry kiss to Charles’ cheekbone. "No detective work required.”

It was a very simple solution, albeit one Edwin tried not to employ too often. He and Crystal had a sort of pact in place to discourage Charles' need to please others, rather than lean into it. Within reason, of course — Edwin had no wish to change Charles fundamentally as a person (or to discourage him from doing what felt good to him in intimate settings. If it made Charles feel good to make others feel good, who was Edwin to begrudge him the pleasure?). But they'd agreed that it was probably the healthier option, in the long term. To steer Charles away from hingeing his self-worth on what he could do for others.

But sometimes, the damage was already done. Sometimes Charles was simply too vulnerable to rejection, too stuck in his own head. And on those occasions, Edwin had learned the kindest thing to do was to take him by the hand, and take the guesswork out of the equation.

Charles sniffed. His soft curls tickled Edwin's forehead as he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, alright."

"Good." Edwin gave him another kiss, pressing this one to his temple. Charles melted under his touch, leaning into him, his hands tight and hot on Edwin's chest. "Thank you, dearheart," said Edwin.

Charles shivered. "Fuck me..." he swore, a dazed mumble.

"Hmmm... No, not tonight, I don't think," Edwin quipped — gratified when Charles managed a snort of mirth. Edwin thumbed up under Charles' jaw, finding where the tension still lingered and soothing it out with firm strokes. "I have something better in mind," he said. He released his hold on Charles to roll up in his own shirtsleeves in brisk, meticulous folds.

Charles watched his every motion with a hungry gaze. "Yeah?" he breathed, somewhat stunned; eyes devouring each newly exposed inch of Edwin's skin up to the elbow. He did have a fascination with Edwin's arms; it was a tried and true method of holding his attention.

"Yes." Edwin glanced over Charles' shoulder with a hum, and settled his hands upon Charles' slender waist. "First things first; let's get you sitting comfortably, shall we?"

He braced himself and, with careful exertion, lifted Charles to deposit him in his usual spot on the desk. Charles went without struggle, and with a gasp that morphed swiftly into a groan. His legs flopped open at once, one ankle hooking around Edwin's thigh in invitation. He tugged on Edwin's waistcoat with a soft whine of his name.

Edwin, maintaining his composure admirably, shushed him. He removed Charles' hands from his own chest — though he pressed quick, apologetic kisses to the heels of each. "Later, my love. Now. Where did I put it..."

He patted down his trouser pockets. When that yielded nothing, he sifted through the stationary cup on the desk. He suspected the object he desired might still be in his coat pocket, but he was loathe to step too far from Charles. Luck, however, was on his side. He recovered the coil of string from a box of spellcasting odds and ends with a small sound of triumph.

Charles watched Edwin's hands unwind the string; rapt despite the slight glaze of his eyes. "You gonna tie me up, then?"

Edwin tsk'd. "What a one-track mind you have this evening," he teased. It wasn't a scold. Having Charles focused and fixated on trying to get Edwin into bed was vastly preferable to the jumble of insecurity. "Hold out your hands."

"Sure you're not tying me up?" said Charles, brow furrowing as he lifted his hands — palms up, beautifully willing.

"I suppose that depends on your definition," said Edwin, as he tied the ends of the string together to form a wide loop. He nudged Charles' hands into place, about a foot apart with palms turned inwards, and draped the loop over them.

Charles, through the haze, finally twigged. "Cat's cradle?" he said, with a slight chuckle.

"Do you object?" asked Edwin.

"Why'd you wanna do this?"

"Because I like playing games with you." Edwin directed Charles to rotate his wrists, winding the string into loops around his hands. He indulged in a gentle touch as he did so, tracing his thumbs along the creases of Charles' skin. The smooth stretch where once a 'life line' would have resided. Edwin had not set much stock by the art of palmistry, until he'd discovered that little commonality between he and Charles. "Again, please. One more loop."

Charles didn't argue — of course he didn't. Edwin doubted he currently had the capacity to argue; so deep had he already descended into that quiet space in his head. The one he occupied only in their moments of deepest intimacy, when Edwin took charge, took him in hand. His eyes, such quick and clever things, now gazed down at Edwin hooded and glassy. Perfect, still pools of pleasantly addled warmth. He'd sunk so readily, so splendidly, all but curled up in the palm of Edwin's hand.

Edwin watched him a moment before proceeding, soothing the ragged edges of his own Hell-torn soul. Whatever he'd done in life to earn the trust Charles placed in him, it must have be something very good indeed.

In next to no time, they had the string pulled taut between Charles' hands, forming the neat double cross of the eponymous Cat's Cradle. Edwin hummed in approval. "Well done," he praised, as he pinched the crossed strands and pulled them outwards. "And now to me. Soldier's Bed, please."

Though Charles appeared to be away with the fairies, he was attuned to Edwin's voice and acquiesced to his command with ease. This was a game they had played many times, on long and quiet nights. When they'd had nothing to hand but an old bootlace, and nothing they wished to do but keep each other's company. Charles didn't need to strain to recall how to release the strings into Edwin's hold. Or how to begin forming the next shape after that, his confident fingers pinching and tugging the relevant strands.

Peaceful and methodical, they worked together, shape by shape, hand to hand. When Charles was pulling the strings for Edwin he was focused, intent, a little wrinkle in his brow. Once or twice his tongue darted out, bitten between his teeth in concentration, and Edwin resisted the impulse to distract him with a kiss. When Charles was merely holding the strings he subsided into utter relaxation. Breathing slow, eyes closed or halfway there, watching Edwin's face and hands with hazy satisfaction. Occasionally he dropped a thread, but it was never a serious blunder, and Edwin got them back on track with a polite command to pick it up. In a customary game they'd have to restart, but this was no customary game. Now was not the time to dwell upon harmless mistakes.

The game served as Edwin had hoped it would. After a few rounds of he and Charles working in perfect tandem, he could feel the air had settled and Charles with it. The grounding touches of their fingers and the face-to-face contact couldn't have hurt. Edwin had fallen into a rhythm, politely requesting each new shape by name and praising the end result. Charles had likewise fallen into a rhythm of mellow compliance. As the rounds wore on he even offered the odd cheeky verbal acknowledgement of Edwin's commands. A 'comin' right up' here, an 'on it, boss' there. His voice was thick and sweet, his tongue succumbing to the same submissive, slumberous spell as his mind. But a little of his bright, energetic spark was creeping back beneath the haze.

By the time they'd worked through the established shapes, and exhausted their own catalogue of invented ones, Edwin was satisfied. He felt they'd left the storm behind and sailed into calmer waters.

"Good game, Charles," he said, as he took their last custom shape — the aptly named Nail in the Coffin — into his own hands, and unraveled it. "Thank you."

Charles hummed, drowsy, swaying a little where he sat. "What'chu wanna do now?" he asked, dark, glassy eyes intent on Edwin's face. Like it was the most important question in the world.

He looked so lovely like this. Of course he always looked lovely, as handsome a boy as Edwin had ever seen. But like this especially, so far gone in his peace and pleasure, there was nothing to compare. Warm and golden, soft and tousled; his eyes black and bottomless and only for Edwin. Gazing at him as if he'd hung the moon and the stars.

Edwin faltered, a small gasp catching in his throat. He remained adamant that he wouldn't take more than Charles should give, at this moment. But... perhaps a small indulgence.

"Kiss me," he said, tucking a finger beneath Charles' chin. "Please."

Charles nodded — a hasty gesture compared to his otherwise lethargic motions — and swayed forward. He crashed his lips against Edwin's in an artless kiss, his hands finding Edwin's waist and gripping tight. Like he couldn't get him close enough.

Edwin sighed into it, stepping into Charles. Into the comfortable vee of his sprawled legs, where he'd come to spend many a peaceful night of late. He tilted his head, guiding Charles into a gentler kiss. Leading him as he would in a dance and letting him fall, gratefully, into step. Edwin explored the curve of Charles' jaw with his fingers, the charmingly pointed shell of his ear. He thumbed across his sparkly earring, and Charles huffed a little laugh into his mouth.

"Magpie," he mumbled.

Edwin chuckled as well, a natural release of the warmth suffusing him. He broke the kiss to dust smaller, feather-light ones across Charles' cheeks. "Well," he said, a thumb pressed to Charles' plush lower lip. "I do seem to collect the most beautiful things..."

Breath hitching, Charles wrapped his arms around Edwin's shoulders and squeezed. Edwin returned the embrace without hesitation. Never before Charles had he felt at ease with this sort of thing — this effusive, uncurbed physical affection. With anyone else it was still a struggle. He had little desire to touch, or be touched. But inviting Charles into his embrace was never a hardship; it was simply his proper place. It was a fact of the universe: Charles belonged with Edwin. In his arms, on his desk, in his bed, on his nerves.

Charles belonged with Edwin, as Edwin belonged with Charles; holding his hand, steering him true. And, where necessary, using a firm word and a firmer hold to put those wretched doubts in his head to rest.

Edwin pulled away with a parting kiss to Charles' temple. Charles felt warm, in that strange, prickly way. Ghostly body heat wasn't so much a thrum of blood as an excitation of atoms. To Edwin's mind, he felt warmer than usual at present. "Are you hot?" he asked.

"Dunno," said Charles with a lax, flirtatious smile. "Am I?"

Edwin rolled his eyes. "In the non-figurative sense, please, Charles."

"Mm. Yeah, bit hot." The smile widened into an impish grin. "Or maybe that's just you."

"You're incorrigible," Edwin muttered — but there was a smile in his voice and likely on his face, as well. His own cheeks were beginning to feel rather warm. He cleared his throat and tugged, meaningfully, on one of Charles' braces. There was a tantalising give and take to the elastic as his fingers slipped behind it. He was half tempted to release it, let it ping back, see what sound Charles made at the slight shock. But now wasn't the time for that sort of play.

"You may remove a layer, if you like," Edwin offered magnanimously — no ulterior motive whatsoever. "I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."

Charles didn't need telling twice. He slid the braces off his shoulders and grabbed his polo shirt at the back of the neck, dragging it off over his head. It was altogether a clumsier attempt than his usual so-called 'strip teases', but his hooded eyes burned on Edwin's face throughout. Afterwards he was left in just his sinfully tight white vest — and, of course, the enticing glimmer of his golden chain on top. But he remained pleasantly flushed and glowing, with not a hint of cold or discomfort. Charles was prone to chills in times of stress; a morbid sense memory of his last night alive. But he always seemed to warm in Edwin's presence.

Edwin, with an exhale that was just a tad on the ragged side, bowed his head and grazed a kiss across Charles' exposed collarbone. "Better?"

He could feel Charles' soft groan ruffling his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, feels good." He pulled on the hem of Edwin's waistcoat. "Bet you're hot too, yeah?"

Increasingly so, yes. Edwin was clinging to his composure by a thread. "It is a touch close in here," he agreed. He could feel Charles' restless fingers tugging, so he took them in his own hands, and guided them to the top button of the waistcoat. It was only fair he restore the balance. "Would you be so kind?"

Charles groaned again, this time so close to Edwin's ear it sent a ripple down his spine, and obeyed. His hands, as was often the case when disrobing Edwin, tripped over the buttons, rendered all fingers and thumbs in his eagerness. But they were in no hurry. Edwin closed his eyes and waited, tucked into the crook of Charles' neck and perfectly satisfied to be so.

When the final button surrendered the fight, Charles made haste to shove the garment off Edwin's shoulders. Edwin corrected him with a polite "Gently, please," and Charles took it in more careful hands, mindful of causing wrinkles. It made no difference, of course — Edwin could will his clothes to look as pristine or rumpled as he pleased. But Charles shuddered sweetly at the direction, and Edwin so enjoyed directing him. Besides, there was never any harm in promoting good habits.

"Fold it, please," said Edwin — stepping back to give Charles space. He watched Charles take the waistcoat in hand and, inexpertly, fold it in half twice. Lengthwise first, then the opposite. Hardly proper protocol, but Edwin didn't much care. He just took the haphazardly folded garment with gratitude and set it aside on the desk. "Thank you."

"Anything else?" Charles mumbled — his fingers teasing Edwin's shirt, itching to tug it free of his waistband.

Edwin sighed, and stilled Charles' hands. Perhaps he was letting the situation get away from them a bit. Charles was quite the difficult temptation to resist. "Perhaps later," he said. At Charles' disappointed pout, he made an amendment. "Definitely later."

Charles snorted, and let his head flop against Edwin's chest. "Alright," he mumbled. He sounded tired. Overwhelmed. It was a lot for him, this complete surrender, and Edwin well knew it. "Whatever you say, love."

"I say it's time for a rest." Edwin took Charles' face in both his hands, holding him still as he bestowed one more kiss upon his forehead. "Go and sit down, please. Comfortably, on the sofa. I'll join you momentarily."

Charles grumbled, but nevertheless did as he was told. He hopped off the desk, hand trailing across Edwin's chest as he passed him by. Edwin caught it for the barest second, just to give his fingers a parting squeeze. An altogether impossible urge to resist; and the loving way Charles' eyes found him over his shoulder affirmed his decision.

Tearing his attention from Charles and his smiles and his soft, trusting eyes, he turned it to the bookcase instead. He knew exactly what he wished to do with Charles, now. Something they'd had neither the space nor quiet for in quite some time. He scanned the shelves, deep in thought.

"Charles," he called out, careful not to cut too sharply through the peace of the room. "Douglas Adams, or Sir Arthur?"

It was a gentle prompt, and a simple choice. The stakes couldn't be lower. He waited to see if Charles would hand it back to him, anyway — still unwilling and unable to bear the thought of making an incorrect decision.

"Mmm... Doug," Charles mumbled.

Edwin smiled to himself. On the mend, then. "Excellent choice," he said; sliding their well-loved second edition of Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency from the shelf.

He turned on his heel to find Charles, folded onto the sofa in a loose tangle of limbs, chin on his fist. He bore sleepy, squinting eyes and a dopey smile, both directed at Edwin and warming him through like late afternoon sunlight.

"Like how it sounds in your voice," said Charles, nestling in further. The very picture of contentment. Seemed he could scarcely keep his eyes open; but he must not have wanted to look away from Edwin just yet.

Edwin could sympathise entirely; he rarely wished to look away from Charles, either.

Edwin smiled as he stepped in close, a hand on Charles' knee; a smiling kiss dropped to his head of rampant curls. "Quiet, now, darling boy," he softly commanded, tugging on Charles' knee to make room. "And enjoy yourself."

~

“How long did the Monk believe these things? Well, as far as the Monk was concerned, forever,” Edwin read, his thumb tracing circles on Charles’ wrist. “The faith which moves mountains, or at least believes them against all the available evidence to be pink, was a solid and abiding faith, a great rock against which the world could hurl whatever it would, yet it would not be shaken. In practice, the horse knew, twenty-four hours was usually about its lot.”

They were a scant few pages into the book, and yet Edwin suspected that Charles had drifted into a doze. It was hard to tell without facing him. They'd settled on the sofa with Charles tucked up against the arm and back, and Edwin reclining between his sprawled legs. Edwin's back pillowed on Charles' torso; Charles' arms wrapped around Edwin, like a large teddy bear. Edwin could feel Charles' chin propped atop his head. On occasion, he nuzzled into Edwin's hair with soft hums as he listened to the story. But the hums and nuzzles both had grown less frequent already, subsiding to near silence.

Edwin read on regardless. Charles, like all ghosts, rarely if ever actually slept, and was likely still listening. Even if his mind was wondering elsewhere for the time being, he'd find his way back. He always did. And Edwin would be waiting for him.

A few chapters later, as Edwin recounted the thrilling mystery of the horse in the water closet, he felt Charles stirring. Soon, Charles' wrist was slipping free from Edwin's grasp, the hand coming to rest instead atop Edwin's hand in a gentle hold.

"Thank you," Charles mumbled, nuzzling into Edwin's hair.

Edwin smiled. "There's no need to thank me for reading to you," he said. "I enjoy it."

"I meant, like..." Charles sighed, squeezing Edwin's hand. "Thanks for, y'know. Bossing me around a bit," he said, sincerity threaded through the lighthearted tease. "Seriously. It proper helps."

Edwin laced their fingers, and brought Charles' hand to his lips. "Charles," he said, simple and serious. He kissed him on the knuckles. "I shall always be here to boss you around when needed."

Charles laughed. Quiet, unobtrusive. It seemed neither one of them was quite ready to break the spell just yet. "Love you," he murmured.

Marking his page with a finger, Edwin leaned back onto Charles' shoulder. He tilted his head back, all the better to look his beloved in the eye. "I love you, too."

He only had to lift his lips, a silent prompt.

Charles needed no further instructions.

~~

Thanks for reading! Consider dropping us a comment/reblog, they do so make my day/week/month 💛 Might not manage every day of this week but I will defo see you tomorrow for a fic/collab I'm SUPER excited about!!! Painland Week Prompt List

[frenchfriedgiraffe]

WE HAVE A NEW CASE, TODD

[doccywhomst]

it's come to my attention that there are people living among us (ඞ) who have never heard a single minute of the dirk gently soundtrack, and i had to rectify that immediately. it's just banger after banger

[h3rmitsunited]

There's something about this look that really strikes me

Like on one hand yes, as I've said previously, there something that is just inherently attractive about that pushed up sleeve button up look, and Dirk looking so soft in this lighting and sitting on the couch next to Todd like they're normal buds for the first time in the show which is very cute

But

I think I figured out what is also very distinct about this particular look

Because he looks like just a... guy. Like a normal everyday pass him on the street kind of guy.

And if you've seen any bit of Dirk Gently, you know that Dirk Gently is not an everyday normal pass him on the street guy. He is a Character, large and vibrant and filled with wild rambling eccentricities that you can't ignore.

In all these other moments, he's bright jackets, collared shirts, a patterned tie. He had a Look, like a cartoon character their signature appearance with these small changes, but he's presenting as something, putting on a costume.

And, oh my god, I'm big braining as I'm writing this, but we see in the scene before this in the death maze where Dirk's mask starts to slip, panicking in the light room, having to take off his signature jacket, stripped down to his underclothes as they're electrocuted. He loses that layer of armor that was keeping him in this larger than life Dirk Gently, holistic detective persona because he's scared, he doesn't know what to do, he's gotten himself into another dangerous situation he doesn't know how to get out of AND he's gotten Todd trapped down here too. There's this vulnerable nature that just bursts out of him without the protection of his clothes, his mask.

So after the death maze, he's out, sitting on the couch, looking dazed and he's quiet. There's no big wild activity, no frantic rambling. He's a guy that almost just burned to death with a guy he hopes will be his friend and he's trying to just... cope with that. He doesn't have the energy to put the mask back on, so while he could have put on another jacket, he goes for something normal, softer, more casual.

And hey hey hey, when do we see the second appearance of casual Dirk clothes?

That's right... I'm a fucking genius.

Dirk after the hospital, after solving the case after Todd told him that he didn't want to speak to him again expecting that this is the end of the brief attempt to make a new friend. I mean, the vulnerability is just pouring off this guy, just drowning in it. Like I dont think I really have to explain how much it just parallels with that other scene, how he's feeling, how he can't get the energy to be the Dirk Gently detective man right now.

But... and now I'm gonna cry because Todd arrives and what does he fucking bring with him?

Yeah, the yellow jacket.

Here's Todd saying hey, sorry we had a fight. That case was crazy. I'm not going to let you do this alone and I brought you this jacket back, let's keep doing this. And Dirk accepts this metaphorical mantle again, whilst also integrating Todd's shirt into his wardrobe, an element of something casual and also a symbol of his new friends, to show that he isn't just the solo detective, stringently sticking to this big wild character, but he is also a man with friends, that can show his vulnerability, his need for connection (lol), and has a way to show that in how he presents himself in the world.

And I think that's just so beautiful.

This is already long, but I definitely think this still works in season 2 with different implications, so maybe I'll write a follow up post if people are interested in that. 😏

[osmundpriestt]

Hey, is there anyone on here who bought props from the auction? My boyfriend and I both did, but is there anyone else? I haven’t heard about it at all since it happened.

[shinybulbasaur]

is this like. is this one of those things where the fantasy world is built by the boy using the house or something? scissor swords stabbing the table and all that.....

[holisticpippin]

HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO DIRK GENTLY: ALL THE HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE REFERENCES I'VE NOTICED IN DIRK GENTLY'S HOLISTIC DETECTIVE AGENCY (a.k.a. everything is connected)

(spoilers)

this took a good couple of hours and I tried to do this in order; buckle up!!

SEASON 1:

the posters on the windows as todd is walking by the convenience store place has a silhouette of a falling whale, what I assume is a reference to the infinite improbability drive whale, and an ad that says "zaphod," a reference to zaphod beeblebrox (s1e01 'horizons')

(also todd's stance here is so funny to me)

the rowdy 3, consisting of four (and later five) members, could be a reference to how the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy is called a trilogy that happens to consist of 5 books ("there are four of them!" "I'm wildly aware")

one of the screens in the death maze has the number 42 on it (s1e04 'watkin')

SEASON 2:

there are 42 blackwing subjects

farah's awesome jacket with "D Adams" on it and the number 42 (multiple episodes)

the boretons' dog is named agrajag, which is the entity that arthur dent accidentally kills in every incarnation. unfortunately he dies here too (multiple episodes)

in the tree car, farah remarks that "the odometer's only on 42 miles" (s2e02 'fans of wet circles')

the book francis cardenas has by him as he's having the nightmare that says "PANIC!" on the cover (in what can only be large, unfriendly letters), with the subtitle "attack devil dolphins." (s2e07 'that is not miami')

the executioner guy in wendimoor calling dirk a "hoopy frood" as he helps him unload the scissor blade things (s2e08 'little guy, black hair')

the blackwing phone number on the business card, "555-424-2424" with a wild amount of 42s (s2e09 'trouble is bad')

dirk telling himself "don't panic" before jumping into the portal (s2e09 'trouble is bad')

[project-icarus]

back by popular demand (<- lmao yeah sure), dirk gently season 2 dashboard simulator

🌻 livelaughlove-deactivated

*white knuckling the bathroom sink* I'm nice I'm nice I'm nice I'm nice

🛻 bob-boreton-deactivated

me when i lie

6k notes

👑 thefuturequeenofwendimoor Follow

"what's your body count?" usually there isn't a body left when I'm done with someone

👑 thefuturequeenofwendimoor Follow

my pile of dust count is 4 though

👑 thefuturequeenofwendimoor Follow

frog count is 1

26k notes

🍹 bored-bisexual Follow

fuck my stupid baka life I keep missing the charging port on my phone

🔑 sherlock-not-holmes Follow

are you perhaps an alcoholic

🍹 bored-bisexual Follow

no I've been sober for 12 whole minutes

487k notes

🖍 theboyyy-deactivated

fuck you *causes a power surge in the entire city*

🖍 theboyyy-remade Follow

I need you all to know this post had me in a coma for 50 years

3k notes

🪨 beast Follow

me n my bf bibbit <3

🔎 holistic-detective Follow

yes, I'm bibbit now. this is my life. living in the forest. with my girlfriend, beast. who literally has me on a leash. this is fine I'm fine everything's fine.

🪨 beast Follow

hi bibbit

106k notes

still couldn't think of an emoji for farah 😭 I should make more of these theyre fun ok byeeee

[lestatartt]

I want to share with dirk gently tumblr that I had a breakdown on monday and changed my contact photos to pictures of elijah wood so now my phone looks like this

[oneprotagonistshort]

also a Dirk Gently WIP whenever just for kicks. from the ongoing Forces Unseen sequel

-

“Holy shit,” Todd said, hearing Dirk come in through the door he’d left propped open. “Did you know we can see the Washington Monument from here?”

Dirk joined him at the window and wrapped an arm around his middle from behind. He was suddenly feeling a bit clingy, like he was going to need to front load all the cuddles he could get, which was abjectly ridiculous. Todd had never shied away from that, if anything it was Dirk who’d been jumpy lately about tender little moments like this. Still, Dirk couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d be wanting more of this later but might not be able to get it. He hooked his chin over Todd’s shoulder and squinted out the window, not sure what Todd was referring to. 

“The bloke on the penny’s house?” he asked, not seeing it. “I don’t think he lives in DC anymore, Todd.”

“What?” Todd asked, pulling back a little to look at him before pointing at a large lit-up obelisk surrounded by illuminated American flags. “No, that. I’ve only ever seen it in movies, National Treasure didn’t prepare me for the real thing.”

“Ohhh,” Dirk said, comprehension dawning as he held Todd close to his front. “You mean the giant pencil statue.”

“The giant—Dirk, that’s the Washington Monument. As in George Washington? It doesn’t even look like a pencil.”

“Doesn’t look much like George Washington either,” Dirk mused, and whatever retort Todd had been about to fire back was interrupted by the sharp trill of Dirk’s phone. 

[binarystarkillers]

hi there, dirk gently fans! are you missing the show that single-handedly both made you believe in the strength of love above all and also ruined your mental health? do you want to cry when you hear 'alive' by madden? have you wished harm against the show's sack of shit ex-showrunner? are you still daydreaming about a potential animated show that got cruelly teased? do you have those panels of the pride comic saved on your phone?

if you answered yes to any of those questions, consider joining this discord server! it's run by me, and is a place for anyone to share their love for this wonderful, wacky show, and it's brilliant characters.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

rules: answer and tag people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with!

tagged by: @dear-monday and @manicpixiedreamedwins ! Cheers m'dears! 😊

Favourite colour: it changes a lot but I'm in a bit of a green era right now! The colour combo I come back to a lot/is most commonly associated with me is pink and yellow though 💛🩷

Last song: HOT TO GO! (catchy bop that's also on my Catwin playlist lmao)

Last movie: my friend finally showed me Phantom of the Paradise it was unhinged I loved it 💛

Currently reading: have started a reread of The Edge Chronicles for... reasons. Have started with Beyond the Deepwoods bc it was the one I could find but if my books weren't so scattered I probs would have started with the Quint trilogy/Gloamglozer

Currently watching: DBDA, as always, plus still squeaking slowly through House MD and occasionally Ted Lasso!

Currently craving: it's first thing in the morning so honestly like, some very buttery toast and a big, cold drink of something a lil sweet and fruity (like me)

Tea or coffee: tea all the way — which, fun fact, despite being a Brit I did not drink at all until my 20s. I went to stay with someone I thought was really cool for a weekend and was like aaaah she's really cool do NOT be weird!! And basically weaned myself onto tea over the long weekend by just not saying no when it was offered xD I would say my relationship to tea now is fairly casual, I don't have strong tastes/opinions on it and will often pick something else to drink given the option, but it's comforting to partake in the deeply ingrained British social ritual lmao.

Right that's enough out of me, I'm gonna tag some wonderful DBDA fandom people bc I haven't been this sociable in a fandom in ages and I love it! So @mellxncollie @every-moment-a-different-sound @williamvapespeare @tw0-ravens @m-eowdy @shadowquill17 @arisprite @wordsinhaled and probably a load of others I've forgotten, if you see this consider yourself tagged if you wanna do it! 💛

[autumn0689]

Some of my favorite photos of Dirk Gently!

He looks so happy! Love the yellow jacket with the Mexican Funeral tshirt! Sure hope nothing bad happens next in that scene (haha *cries*)

Look how happy he is breaking into his assist-friends house! Not to mention the iconic yellow jacket!

Love his smile! It’s a rough season for him so seeing him is so nice to see!

Love the outfit love the red phone honestly it’s such a good episode! So cool seeing Dirk run around with the red phone cord following behind him! Such a good outfit for him! Very eighties

He looks so relieved in this scene! He looks so happy! To finally have a talk with Francis (aka The Boy) and to have him reassure him on what his role is is just- I LOVE IT!!

Him giving a thumbs up to his past self! Love to see him giving himself some love (even if it’s a past self) by giving him the thumbs up! Also past Dirk is so cute! He’s so shocked I love him!

Another thumbs up! Though he is bleeding out in this scene…

His face when he hears Todd call him his friend… he’s so shocked to see Todd be with him, especially after their fight. Dirk Gently deserves the world

I have WAY MORE but then this post would go on forever! He deserves the world and happiness and love and even though the show got cancelled I’m glad he actually got to open his Agency with his friends

[ambrosianlullaby]

Movin’ Out, Growin’ Up, Makin’ Changes

Words: 698

Characters: Dirk’s Bro | Alpha Dave Strider, Dirk Strider, Roxy's Mom | Alpha Rose Lalonde (mentioned), Roxy Lalonde (mentioned)

Tags: Family Fluff

Notes: Made for the 24 Hour Homestuck Zine!

Read below the cut!

Dirk Strider awoke well rested and ready for his day. Which, is a lot more than young-adults his age could say for themselves. He'd only slept in until nine, but that didn't seem to affect him as he stretches his arms above his head. 

He grabs his pair of shades from the nightstand, hooking them into the collar of his shirt. Dirk’s fingers trace over the bumpy texture of his room's drywall, paint peeling in a familiar and comforting way. "Bro!" He calls out for his older brother as he treks on. The dirt in the bedroom carpet underneath him scraped against calluses on his feet.

Dirk had gotten up without issue and gently scratched at the skin of his lower back with a yawn. He didn't need any time to adjust to the dim lights of the apartment, crossing the thin stretch of hallway from his room to the bathroom.

A voice came from the kitchen, a room away, in the apartment. "Are you finally getting your ass out of here?" It said, charged with the same energy as a smirk.

"In a few hours, yeah," Dirk answers without thinking. "Last few boxes to load up in the truck." His scarred knuckles turn a paler shade as he grips his toothbrush, poking his head out into the hall to be met with the smug face of his older brother. "Then I'll be out of your hair for good. You should celebrate."

"I will. I'll pop open a bottle of champagne and tell Rosalind the good news."

"Don't, she'll blow my phone notifications sky high. There will be so many that if they were physical objects we could make a staircase to the moon. Bro, that's way too many notifications, we don't even need to go to the moon." Dirk shuts himself up by finally brushing his teeth, surprised to see a fluff of blond in the corner of the mirror.

D was now next to him, smirking and messing up Dirk's not-yet-gelled hair as much as he could before getting swatted by a stray hand. "I dunno, the moon sounds cool, kiddo." 

"Actually," He stops brushing for just a minute. "Just had my birthday, remember? No kids in sight in this apartment. There hasn't been any in two years."

"Is that so?"

Dirk nods, refocusing his attention to scrubbing away the morning breath. He spits in the sink and gives his brother a flat look. "Can't wait to get rid of me now, but you'll have the waterworks running soon. Beyond that, you'll probably get empty nest syndrome too."

D rolls his eyes, leaning against the bathroom door frame. "Nah, I've had enough exposure to children for this life. You were a menace at three."

Their banter continues, even when Dirk pushes his brother out to actually use the bathroom. They'd just kept talking through the door until deciding that breakfast before boxes would be a good choice. 

Shades secured on both Striders' faces, they ate at the kitchen counter; a healthy meal consisting of a piece of toast with a good slather of orange purée and apple butter.

"Can't believe you've both grown up *and* you're moving out,” D's lips seemed to quirk down slightly. "You're going to college, this seems like a dream and I'll wake up to you having cracked your head open on the old roof."

Dirk frowned. He could understand, he felt the same way after all. "Nope. It's real, no brains spilled on cement for me. None of that for either of us."

The elder Strider slowly nods, a genuine smile spreading on his face at the haphazard confirmation. It wasn’t a rare sight, D smiling, but it was nice all the same. It made Dirk’s lips quirk up to join him, throwing an arm around his older brother's shoulder in a truly rare half-hug.

"We're alive, and I'm going to college with Roxy. Don't go stir crazy being alone here."

"I'm not alone, Dirk. I've got friends."

"Wizard book lady?"

They both laugh and finally get to work on moving Dirk's boxes to the truck. The two brothers spent a while slacking off, though, making up strange new secret handshakes.

[misslavenderlady]

The Boys Who Wouldn’t Grow Up - Chapter 20

Summary: Marko, Dwayne, and Paul are ready to take down the head vampire and restore David and Maria's mortality. Even with their combined skills, things could still go wrong if they're not careful.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: CHARACTER DEATH (character is a kid), Violence, Blood, Stabbing, Burning, Threats

Credit to bonniebird for the gif (which is of Sam in that awful LB sequel lol)

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

The day had finally arrived. The day when all vampires would die. To think that mere days ago, the Johnson family had just come to California for an uneventful summer with Grandma. Now one son was corrupted with vampirism while the other was ready to take down the monsters who turned him in the first place. 

It wasn’t going to be an easy task to complete. Between Marko still training to fight and David being weak in the day and still very new to his powers, the odds weren’t entirely in their favor. They were most certainly going to need the help of some professionals if they were going to solve this vampire pest problem.

After a restless night, Marko woke up at the crack of dawn to call Dwayne and Paul again. He gave them all the information Maria had shared with him and David the night before. They needed to know all about the powers Michael had if they were going to plan accordingly. The two brothers took note of everything their friend had to tell them, and after packing supplies and weapons accordingly, they devised a plan.

“We’ll come get you both at 6 pm,” Dwayne explained. “It’s cutting it pretty close, but we really can’t afford to have the shop closed another day. Just use that time to train like we taught you”

“Yeah! And tell your big bro to get some shut-eye,” Paul added on. “He’s gonna feel like shit when he wakes up, but at least he can rest when he can”

Marko looked over at his brother on the bed. Even with the blackout curtains fully closed, he was buried deep under the blankets. The deeper he was in the darkness, the better. He must have gotten comfortable enough because he was fast asleep. 

It was a good thing their father would be busy today because the last thing Marko needed was a distraction. 

"Got it. I'll see you guys then"

After hanging up the phone, he decided to leave David for a while. A look of worry was stuck on the curly-haired boy's face as he gathered a stake for his practice session in the yard again. 

It was only made of wood, yet it weighed down his hand as if it were the heaviest iron. Vampires were going to be slaughtered today, and some could be at his own hand. 

Whatever it takes to save my family, Marko thought to himself as he gently shut the door. 

It was a nerve-wracking few hours, but at least Dwayne and Paul were good on their word. At 6 on the dot, they were riding up the driveway, their motorcycles kicking up clouds of dirt as they went. 

Marko wasted no time in dragging David out of bed. Despite sleeping all day long, the eldest sibling moved like he hadn't gotten any shut-eye in days. Groans and curses were thrown Marko's way as he helped David down the steps. For the sake of the situation, he would ignore any complaints. 

"Jesus Christ, your brother looks like hell," Paul noted. 

He and Dwayne were fully ready for battle. Each set of hair was tied back and their faces were marked with light camouflage makeup. They wore thick boots and gloves with packs of weaponry in their bags. It made the naval dirk Marko has stashed in his pocket look like a toy. 

"Thanks, I feel like I was just there," David replied sarcastically. 

"Remind me again why I don't just leave your ass here to sulk in private?" Marko sassed him. 

Even still, he helped David properly sit down on a chair by one of their grandmother's suits of armor. He was already winded just from the steps. 

"Because we'll need all the help we can get. Even as a lookout, it's important to have everyone ready if need be," Dwayne explained. 

"Besides, I need to get Maria out of there. She's not one of them, she's a prisoner…" 

The other three looked at each other while David pouted over his lover. He clearly cared about her despite everything that happened. In a way, it further proved that he wasn't one of the monsters. He could still be saved with the humanity that lingered. 

The Murray brothers sat beside Marko and David, the expressions on their faces now much more sympathetic. This wasn't just a search and destroy mission, it was also a rescue mission. They weren't to take that lightly. 

"We'll get the lady outta trouble," Paul assured him with a friendly smile. "Just tell us what the leader looks like. We find him, stake him, and the others are destroyed too"

It made David's stomach churn to think of Michael. The boy he thought was his best friend was instead a force of chaos that corrupted everything in sight. To think about the reality of how Michael manipulated him left and right still infuriated him.

"His name's Michael," David mumbled. "Around my height, brown curls, blue eyes, and he's the oldest one. You'll know him when you see him"

That was all the hunters needed. With a nod to each other, they gestured for Marko to follow them. The only problem was that Marko couldn't get his brother to move. David was barely clinging to consciousness. 

"There's absolutely no way he's gonna stay on the back of your bike, Marko," Dwayne pointed out. "We're gonna need a different ride to their hideout"

While the other three were wondering what to do, Marko knew right away what they could use at a time like this. He'd be in serious trouble, but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

"Grandma's gonna kill you when we get home," David mumbled from the passenger seat. 

“Rather it be her than a bloodsucker”

Marko was at the wheel of their Grandmother's Eldorado. Though guilt for taking her car was overwhelming him beyond words, it truly was a matter of life and death. David was slumped over in the passenger seat up front while Paul and Dwayne stayed perched in the back. He silently hoped his Grandfather wasn’t turning over in his grave as a result of this.

The sun was beating down on them all, bright and hot. It wasn’t anything new to the human boys, but for David, it was like being suffocated. Though it was insufferable, he’d do his best to stay strong and endure it. He wasn’t going to stay like this forever, nor was he going to let Michael go and poison the life of someone else. 

“When we get there, we all stick together,” Dwayne ordered. He was sharpening his stake with a pocket knife, getting it ready for whatever monster he came face to face with. 

“Don’t anybody try to be no hero! If your ass is in trouble, get the hell outta there,” Paul added. 

While sleepily giving his brother directions, David wondered just how this was going to play out. Surely if he was feeling weak, so would the Lost Boys. He still hated the idea of Marko going in there to face those demons, but his little brother had his heart set on being the one to free him. They had been through so much together, and if this was all going to end, he had to have faith in Marko. 

He used to see a sweet, scrawny kid whenever they were together. Now with determined eyes and a focused expression, David truly saw how grown up his brother was.

The car was parked in the dirt at the top of the cliff. Dwayne and Paul each had to hold him up so he wouldn't stumble and fall down the worn-out staircase. Marko led the way, finding the main entrance that David had only ever navigated through at night. Sunlight was streaming inside, showing off all the worn-out features of the dilapidated resort. 

"Yeah, this is definitely a vampire nest," Dwayne said. "They love settling down in abandoned places like this"

David remembered how much he worried the boys were homeless and that this was the best they could do. Turns out this was the perfect place for them. 

Before he could even think of moving further, something caught his eye. 

A white piece of fluff hidden in a corner of the room. Curious, he broke free from the others and slowly made his way over to the item. Getting close enough allowed him to see what it really was. 

It was the teddy bear he gave Maria the night they all went to play games on the boardwalk. But now it had a new, gruesome feature. A claw had sliced at the throat of the stuffed animal, blood staining the fur surrounding it. 

This was a message. A threat. Michael must have done this to frighten Maria enough to the point where she wouldn't leave. You try something, you die. 

"You guys go kill that son of a bitch," David sneered. "I'm gonna find Maria and get her out of this hellhole"

Nobody questioned him. Paul and Dwayne took off first to find an entrance to a lower level in the cave. Marko gave David a pat on the shoulder before following them. Though thoroughly exhausted, David managed to stay on his feet long enough to search the cave for Maria. If she was still half-vampire like him, then he could get her out of this place for good. 

To his utter relief, she was in her room. Just like after their night together, she was snuggled up under her blankets, trying to ignore the pain of the sunlight streaming in order to get some proper rest. David had been barely comfortable with the black-out curtains. He couldn’t imagine how miserable she was feeling.

“Maria?” he whispered. He kneeled over her on the bed, gently nudging her so she’d wake up. Her beautiful brown eyes peeked open, making David feel a sense of relief. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m getting you out of here. We gotta go now”

Though exhaustion was what most clearly presented on her face, a hint of panic overwhelmed her. She knew just what Michael and his sadistic little brothers were capable of, and she was scared of what they’d do to David if they found out he was here.

“N-No…I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” David urged her. 

He didn’t hesitate in taking action. Fighting back the pain in his muscles, David scooped Maria up into his arms, carefully holding her as he made his way back to the entrance they all came in. She whimpered softly in his hold, discomfort and fear overwhelming her senses. It was all such a scary situation. There were no second chances. If they were caught, it was all over.

David grunted in agony from the number of steps outside the cave he had to climb. If he was still fully human, he could have carried her with absolutely no problem. But the sun above was brutal, and it made his legs buckle and shake. It was a miracle that he was able to set her body down on the seat in the back before he collapsed beside her. 

All of his energy was gone. If Marko and his friends were going after those vampires, they were on their own.

*********************************

“Watch your step! The rocks here are sharp!” Paul warned the others, taking the lead down. While he and Dwayne moved around rather gracefully, Marko was a bit clumsy, not always finding the best footing as he followed them. 

Still, they all stayed close together, always making sure everyone was safe the further they went into the cave. The air was icy, as no sunlight would ever touch such an area. It was the ideal space for a vampire to hide away when the sun was out, and if there were vampires around, they all had to be on their guard. 

Once the last sliver of light was gone, the boys all got their flashlights out. Powerful beams spread out, allowing them to explore the space better. Marko kept his light on the ground so he could see where he was stepping, but Dwayne and Paul had their lights pointed up at the cave ceiling. They were on the lookout for the monsters.

“Vampires have the features of vampire bats in their blood,” Dwayne explained to Marko. “It’s what lets them fly, gives them sharp teeth to bite, and claws to grab onto things better. Not to mention it helps them sleep”

“Sleep? What do you mean by that?” the curly-haired boy asked. 

"You’ll see what we mean once we find the fuckers,” Paul chimed in. 

Marko was still determined to find these creatures, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. This was still so new and overwhelming. All he wanted was to protect his brother and father. If he panicked at any point, he would be potentially putting their safety at risk. He needed to be brave, no matter what. 

He wanted to ask how much longer they needed to travel through the caves. If they were getting closer. But just as he opened his mouth to talk, Dwayne slapped a hand over it, silencing him completely. Marko was baffled by such an act. That was, until he looked up.

Four boys. Sound asleep…..and hanging upside down from the rafters. 

It was a good thing Dwayne had covered Marko’s mouth because the smaller boy immediately began screaming into the palm from the sheer shock of the sight. Vampires did exist. Sure, he had seen David with such changes, but now everything felt so much more real. Those were the vampires who went after his brother, and they had to kill the leader. 

Dwayne let go when Marko had calmed down enough to stop shouting. His heart was still pounding rapidly, but at least he could keep quiet. While Dwayne and Paul looked for the right weapon in their supplies to use, Marko didn’t dare look away from the monsters. 

David wasn’t joking when he said they were just kids. The three boys next to the eldest were so young and innocent looking. But if David said they were killers, then he wasn’t going to question it. Looks could be deceiving. 

“Gotta make this quick, clean, and silent,” Dwayne explained, his voice low in volume. In his hands was a sleek-looking crossbow. Paul helped load an arrow into it, making certain it was as sharp as possible. 

“We shoot the leader, we get the hell out. The kids will be destroyed once Michael is gone, so we won’t have to worry about being chased afterward,” Paul added. 

Marko nodded, backing up to give the brothers some room. Dwayne pointed the crossbow upward, ready and focused to strike. Paul held his arms in place for extra support. The more steady the aim, the better.

There was only one problem. Marko was so focused on getting out of the way, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. Without warning, a loud bang came behind him, the sound of a massive rock pile crashing down from his foot knocking it out of place.

Though Dwayne shot right away, it didn’t take even a second for everything to go wrong. The closest vampire to Michael woke up from the sound of the rocks. His golden eyes locked on the three humans and the weapon aimed at his brother. Though the speed of the crossbow was fast, the boy was faster.

Without hesitation, the blond-haired boy threw himself in front of Michael, taking the arrow straight into his chest. 

“AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!”

An inhuman screech echoed across the cave, rattling the walls and piercing the eardrums of the humans on the ground. Thick, dark blood poured from the wound in the kid’s chest, spewing onto the rocks and dirt below like a waterfall. The three other vampires woke with a start, immediately overcome with horror at the sight just inches from them. 

Their shrieking was demonic. Loud and ferocious. It overwhelmed Marko, Dwayne, and Paul to the point where they cowered in fright, terrified of what to do after missing their target. Dwayne fumbled with the crossbow in desperation to reload it and shoot again. Unfortunately, the vampire that he hit came down fast and hard, nearly landing on top of them with blood splattering all over. There was no way they could attack with the thick, sticky liquid coating their fingers. 

That was a big problem, considering Michael had them right in his sights. He had a fire in his inhuman eyes, and it burned them to the very core.

“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU ALL!!”

Not wanting to stick around to give him the chance, the three hunters took off as fast as they possibly could. They shrieked in terror as they frantically ran over the rocky passage they had come through. The walls of the cave rumbled around them, still unstable from the vampires and their screams. 

“OUTSIDE! We gotta get outside where the light is NOW!” Paul urged Marko, dragging him along to keep up with him and his brother. The vampire screeches were close behind them, as Michael was hot on their trail. 

The beam of light from the outside space was so painfully close. It was harder to move with their shot nerves, keeping them unbalanced and clumsy, but they couldn’t give up. Paul and Dwayne led the way, urging their friend to keep up with them.

Marko was able to do just that until a clawed hand pinned his leg down. 

“FUCK! HE’S GOT ME!!” the curly-haired boy cried out. He stumbled to the ground in a panic as the vampire held his leg in place. 

Dwayne and Paul immediately began to work to pull Marko towards the light they were so close to touching. They urged their friend to fight and do anything to get Michael away. He screamed and kicked the monster repeatedly in the face with no success.

“Let me go! PLEASE!”

“YOU’LL NEVER ESCAPE ME, CHILD,” Michael hissed, a long, serpentine tongue slipping past his fangs. 

Marko's stomach was twisting and his heart was slamming against his ribcage. Sweat poured from his forehead as he tried to think of a plan. He needed a weapon. Anything. 

The naval dirk. The one his grandmother gave him. While Paul and Dwayne kept trying their best to break free, Marko dug a hand into his pocket, grabbing at the weapon. 

With great swiftness, he swung downward and thrust the blade into the flesh of Michael's hand. The monster howled in pain, the same dark, inhuman blood flowing from the wound. Marko wasn't going to let go now. He tugged Michael's hand in the opposite direction, using the blade handle to bring him closer and closer to the light. 

"GUYS! HELP ME PULL HIM INTO THE SUNLIGHT!!"

Dwayne and Paul grabbed on tighter than ever, giving their all to pull the vampire into the sunshine. With Michael in a weakened state, they moved his arm with more ease. His wounded hand was pulled out of the darkness and ignited in flames when it was hit by the light. 

Any fight Michael had was destroyed as he released Marko and cowered back into the shadows of the cave. His wound was cauterized by the fire, and now instead of bleeding, he was badly burned. There was no way he’d be following them now. The hunters didn’t waste any time taking the chance to run back to the car. 

As they climbed up the stairs and used the car to take off in a panic, Michael watched silently from his hiding place. The humans may have won the battle, but the vampires would win the war once the sun went down. All he had to do was wait a couple of hours. 

“See you boys soon…”

Tag: @britany1997