#werewolf detective au

[ronpatrash]

Okay but I need fan art of Kaito in his werewolf form snuggling up with maki to keep her warm in the werewolf detective au😭🤚

I haven't drawn them in a while!!! your idea was too cute to not draw hehehe thank you anon <3

[lilacc-the-cat]

I saw @ronpatrash werewolf detective au and wanted to draw it with my weredog Sakura au (rip Shuichi and Kenshiro they don't have wolf or dog forms 😔)

[jube-art]

a vampire and werewolf au, but not in the way you think

[kazalmilk]

Werecat king and Vampwin

Featuring a scene from chapter 3 of my au fic coming soon

[cani-bal]

werewolf strahm am i right?

[kodasea]

Halloween AU (2021)

[obsessiveagony2point0]

….I really enjoy drawing Charles with sharp teeth….

[carpediemma]

Dead Boy Detectives Fanfic Ideas

Well, they say the only way out is through so... let's do this. If I was competent or confident in my ability to write as other characters, I would try to write these myself... but I don't.

Imagine this as me putting out a cardboard box of fanfic plot puppies with a sign that says "free to a good home."

Fanfics I would write if I could/ones that should just exist:

The Vampire and/or Werewolf Detectives

I would see it as either Vampire!Edwin and Werewolf!Charles; Werewolf!Charles and Human!Edwin (or Ghost); or Werewolf!Edwin and Human!Charles. Personally I would think Werewolf Edwin would be most compelling since a raging Wolf seems like a fun juxtaposition with the more calm and composed Edwin. With the vampire case, I would think you would have it that on the night of the sacrifice, Simon et. al. didn't summon a demon but a vampire--Esther, perhaps?--who makes Edwin a vampire spawn of sorts, roaming the school and fearing what would happen if he is compelled to do something by his master. (you could probably get very Astarion with it tbh)

2. Human Charles the Crime-Solving Medium

Since we know from Niko (and Monty) that one only has to be near death to be able to see ghosts, what if Edwin was actually able to save Charles from dying that night, but he's still able to see and hear Edwin. Could have a fun 80s romp of a still human Charles and Edwin. Perhaps add the angst of Edwin still figuring out he love loves Charles and the fact that he will grow up and they could never really have a relationship.

3. No Portal

Because I'm a sucker for angst, and for beating up the characters I love most, it would be fun to have an AU where the night nurse doesn't actually open up a portal to Hell and Edwin has to stay in Hell for longer. I like the idea of Charles (and Crystal) being desperate.

Alternate options/plot points:

Charles actually gets put in his afterlife but has to fight his way out of Heaven and into Hell to get Edwin (perhaps he finds a way through the Lost and Found department?)

If I wanted to be cutesy with it, I would probably title this "Heaven and Hell were Words to me"

4. Can you get into the mind of a ghost?

Because I think the Crystal and Edwin dynamic is fun and I want to be further explored, and I saw this very shortly in another fic, I would love a story where Crystal has to go into Edwin's mind, whether on purpose or on accident. When ideating, I put that "Esther's machine puts Edwin into a 'coma' and Crystal helps get him out by going into his head--and also seeing what Edwin experienced in Hell.

OKAY! And that's it... for now. If you actually read this, you are fucking awesome and I hope you have a great day.

[singswan-springswan]

I love it when glowy eyes

[ronpatrash]

So I was the one who asked the Gonta question so what does Gonta look like in the werewolf detective au by showing us a sketch

quick sketch! i realized i havent drawn gonta in this AU yet oop

[puhpandas]

brewing detective rabbit werewolf au

[jube-art]

"Charles? Are you quite done feeding yet?"

[direwombat]

ough...my wednesdays...they've been wipped

kicking off a wip wednesday with a little bit of katc and a little bit of th&tw for your reading pleasure today (altho warnings for vomiting in the first snippet and uh...allusions to murder in the second)

tagging @inafieldofdaisies, @theresaruggedroad, @wrathfulrook, @madparadoxum, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @strangefable, @jillvalentinesday, @adelaidedrubman, @g0dspeeed, @gaeadene, @ivymarquis, @aceghosts, @voidika, @confidentandgood, @purplehairsecretlair, @cassietrn, @neverthesameneveranother, @deputyash, @miyabilicious, @simplegenius042, @trench-rot, @euryalex, @clonesupport, @josephslittledeputy, @alexxmason, and anyone else with something to share (and again, here's the opt-in/opt-out of wip tags post which i'll be using starting in october)

An already quick drive is made even quicker by her lead foot. She speeds out of town, roaring down the empty roads. If she believed in such things, she might’ve considered it a miracle that she doesn’t come across any Project trucks along her way, but she’ll take the good fortune where she can. There’s a distinct pit in her gut that tells her such luck will be in short supply in the coming days. 

She pulls into the driveway and her stomach drops when she realizes that Augustine’s Jeep is nowhere to be seen. Dammit. There was a part of her that desperately hoped he was able to make it home and hunker down until she got there. 

Apparently God’s good will  doesn’t extend quite that far. 

Throwing herself out of the car, she staggers up the front steps and through the door that hangs ajar off its hinges. Immediately, she’s on high alert, a shot of adrenaline pumping through her veins and dulling the pain in her gut. She pulls her sidearm from the holster at her thigh and carefully proceeds inside, prepared to clear her home of any and all threats. 

Broken glass from the windows crunches under her boots, and the entire place has been torn apart. The kitchen cupboards are thrown open, thoroughly cleaned of all non-perishable goods. The refrigerator is in a similar state, door wide open while the food left behind already smells like it’s beginning to spoil. The television screen has been smashed and couch cushions have been thrown to the floor. 

Peggie handiwork, no doubt. 

She moves through the house, into the bathroom, but something nags at the back of her mind. The Hell were they lookin’ for? The pantry raiding, she understands, but why rip apart the living room? She files that question away to ponder later. The pain in her abdomen is nigh unbearable, and before she can open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, she’s vomiting beer and bar food into the sink. 

Every heave and cough only makes it worse. She fumbles with the faucet, turning the knob to wash away the mess. With her head still bowed, a trembling hand reaches out to pilfer the cabinet. But as she gropes blindly for the bottle of Tylenol she remembers buying, she finds that these shelves have also been emptied. 

She sucks in deep, gasping breaths and lifts her head. Through bleary eyes, she finds all her prescriptions gone as well. 

The only thing left behind is Augustine’s emergency box of Claritin. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, really?” 

and some of the horror and the wild

She leans up against the car, pulls a carton of cigarettes from her uniform’s breast pocket, and lights up. Extending the carton to Staci, he gratefully takes one and she holds out her lighter for him as well. They stand, smoking in silence for a long moment before she heaves a sigh and exhales a thick plume of smoke. “Somethin’ ‘bout this don’t sit right,” she says. 

“I’ve lived here all my life. Never seen anything like that,” Staci says. He rolls his cigarette between his fingers, looking at her anxiously from the corner of his eyes. “You really think a wolf could’ve done all that?”

“On the record? Couldn’t say,” she shrugs. “But off?” She sighs heavily and shakes her head. “Ain’t no way this was just a wolf -- or even a pack of them.”

“What do you mean?”

They watch as the pieces of Chad are carried from his cabin in a body bag. 

“I ain’t sayin’ there weren’t an animal attack,” she starts, “but wolves ain’t exactly known for B’n’E -- whole no-thumbs thing makes it kinda hard. Besides, weren’t no glass on the floor from the windows; the only thing broken down was the front door -- which I will remind you is made of fortified steel -- and on top of that, Chad ain’t exactly easy prey. Why would some wolves go to the trouble, expend that much energy tryin’ to get inside a cabin to go after a strong, healthy man when there are weak, sick deer that are much easier to catch?”

“What do you think happened, then?” 

“Need more evidence before I can say anything for certain, but -- gut instinct -- I’d say someone broke down the door and let the wolves in.”

Staci’s eyes go wide. “You think this was murder?”

“Like I said, we need more evidence, but this sure as Hell feels targeted to me. Someone wanted Chad dead and they didn’t want it easily traced back to them.” 

Pratt blinks and exhales deeply, sliding down against the cruiser. “Pack of wolves as a murder weapon,” he breathes with disbelief. “Fucking Montana.”

[silver-blooded-synthetics]

@detective-with-one-arm sent in a starter:

In the local wooded area, a dark-furred werewolf was following a scent. It was another werewolf scent, but she was intrigued nonetheless. Rachel couldn't help the longing to be a part of a pack. Lone wolves did not do well. Female wolves especially were not often lone wolves. It wasn't unheard of, just not common. Maybe it was much to hope for, but she wanted to belong again. And it was worth a try. Maybe the werewolf she was tracking would be friendly, like her. She hoped so. By the moon, she desperately hoped so.

A large white wolf was curled up in the hollow of a big oak tree. His siblings and mother were also sleeping inside the empty cave-like alcove the roots of the tree created, providing shelter for them until the full moon would be over. His mother and siblings were fast asleep, but Alma was wide awake, staring up through the roots and branches at the stars and moon.

He was distracted by their light, but a scent getting closer drew his attention away from the night sky.

Ears perking up, the white wolf quietly stood. He glanced back at his family, still sleeping, then silently left the great oak's shelter, venturing out into the night in search of the curious smell. It was definitely an animal of some kind. Possibly a human, but... it smelled like wolf too. Maybe it was another werewolf encroaching on their territory.

His mother wouldn't be happy about that. She was very protective of her pups, even though they were all adults now. The pack was small, but very tight knit. Alma, however, was curious. He'd never actually met another werewolf outside of the family. They always kept hidden away. If this scent really was that of another werewolf, he wanted to know more about them... even if it was dangerous.

[icyonice]

Clockmare Nation, listen here, on Halloween open up AO3.

I will have something there. (I promise)

Look forward to it and I hope you will enjoy it!

[obsessiveagony2point0]

Property

Edwin’s property gets damaged.

Click here to learn about this AU

•——•——•——•——•——•

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

Ghost didn’t typically feel pain, but when iron was involved pain soon followed after.

For Charles, though, silver was also a problem.

His soul being part werewolf meant he was susceptible to both iron weapons and silver ones. The fact there were two ways to ruin him should have been enough to make sure the spirit was careful.

It wasn’t.

“Bloody hell that hurts..!” Charles hissed in pain.

He and Edwin were back in their hideout after an encounter with a particularly nasty ghost hunter that left Charles covered with searing burns on his body.

“Exactly what you deserve for being an absolute arrogant fool and running head first into a fight..!” Edwin snapped as he helped Charles peel his leather jacket off that had melted to his skin. Well…less helped and more roughly and irritatedly tore it off.

Charles bit his bottom lip so hard as Edwin ripped it off that if he still had blood, he knew it would be punctured and bleeding. “He was coming at you…!” Charles said after releasing his lip from his fangs. “What did you want me to do, let him hit you with that goddamn iron-silver weapon…!?

“I want you to actually use your head for thinking!”

The werewolf ghost looked up at Edwin’s face, and what remained of his heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of a concerned, furrowed brow on Edwin’s place face. His eyes were intense, as usual, but there was also panic residing in the gray-blue irises.

“Wow, Edwin.” Charles teased, weakly smirking. “Is that a caring expression I see on your face?”

“Be quiet, you insufferable mutt.” Edwin growled.

The smirk widened. “Oh, so you do care?”

Edwin’s hand suddenly flew up and gripped tightly onto Charles’ curls, making the werewolf spirit gasp as his head was pulled back painfully.

Charles’ eyes were wide and his mouth gaping open as if it was threatening to let out a pant or a whine. Thankfully, neither of those things happened. Instead, he stared into Edwin’s calm yet irritated eyes.

“What I care for…” Edwin said, low and slowly, menacingly. “is avoiding needless reckless behavior.” His fingers tightened in Charles’ hair, making Charles’ eye twitch at the slight burn. “You are insufferable and irritating… a pest in the form of an unstable werewolf mutt.”

Edwin leaned down and dropped his voice even lower. “But you are MY pest. MY mutt. MY property. And I do not like MY property damaged by actions that can and should be avoidable.”

He released Charles’ hair, a small, pleased smirk on his face that the werewolf spirit was in the same position, head arched back and still staring at him. Edwin gave a small pat on Charles’ cheek. “Do not disappoint me, mutt.”

Edwin walked away, leaving Charles to finish tending to himself. Instead, Charles stared at the ceiling, his body vibrating and his cheeks feeling flushed like they would when he was high from possessing people and forcing them to murder others.

His chest heaved shakily as he repeated Edwin’s words in his head.

This was the closest Charles had ever heard Edwin say that Charles mattered to him. It should have been an insult, and maybe that’s how Edwin meant it to be, but that’s not how Charles took it.

Edwin’s words wrapped around his mind and Charles could almost feel the heavy weight of a collar around his neck.

‘You are MY pest. MY mutt. MY property.’

“Yea…” Charles whispered. “I am…”