A huge, monstrous thank you to everyone who participated in DBDA Creature Week 2025! Whether you contributed creatively, showered (very deserving) praise on others, or simply enjoyed the work of a brilliantly talented fandom, I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart.
All of that being said, the ooky and the spooky does not have to stop here!
If you missed a day (or two, or seven), please don't worry! Feel free to post your creations beyond the specified dates of Creature Week. The community and creativity have always been the focus, not the deadlines!
As always, be sure to tag your work with #DBDACreatureWeek, tag @dbda-creature-week, and add your works to the DBDA_Creature_Week_2025 collection on AO3. As long as you keep creating, I will keep sharing! 👻
DBDA Creature Week: By the Numbers* (and counting!)
I have run some of the preliminary numbers, and the turnout for DBDA Creature Week 2025 was outstanding! I hope it will only continue to grow in the coming weeks! The DBDA community remains so creative and collaborative and passionate, and it is such a joy to see.
Thank you again to everyone who made this possible, including @aletterinthenameofsanity, who so graciously volunteered to help spread the word and make sure everyone's creations were shared here 🖤
heaven need a sinner (you can't raise hell with a saint)
A belated entry for Day 1 of @dbda-creature-week: Divine & Infernal beings, a PWP featuring demon!Charles and virgin sacrifice!Edwin. You can read the first part below, or read the whole thing here on AO3.
Word count: approx. 6.5K
Rating: E
Warnings: explicit smut; dubious consent
Relationship: Payneland
Summary: When Charles, a half-demon, interrupts one of his classmates being sacrificed to a demon, he only has a matter of minutes to stop Sa’al from claiming Edwin’s soul. The ritual calls for a virgin sacrifice, so Charles can only think of one solution: make sure Edwin isn’t a virgin by the time Sa’al arrives for his prize.
***
Well, bloody hell, is all Charles can think as he stares down at the terrified boy bound and gagged on the bed in front of him. Edwin Payne stares back at him, eyes enormous above his gag, pajama-clad body wracked with tremors. His wrists, tied to the headboard with what look like neckties, twist frantically. The boys who did this ran shrieking in terror the moment Charles appeared, leaving Edwin to his fate. Charles has half a mind to go after them and teach them what happens when you mess with the forces of Hell, but he has bigger problems right now.
He can taste sulfur in the air. The ritual, inexpert and clumsily done as it was, was successful. Edwin Payne has been sacrificed to Sa’al.
Sa’al will come to claim his prize eventually, but Charles can at least slow him down. He pricks his own palms with his claws, smearing blood across the wall and murmuring a spell to put up a protection ward. It won’t be hard for a demon, especially not an Archduke of Hell, to break through, but it’s all Charles can do right now.
“Please,” Edwin says through his gag, and Charles turns to find his chest rising and falling rapidly, clearly on the verge of panic.
Charles can’t blame him. Those idiots—he knew Simon Mould was a twat, but not this much of one—didn’t bother putting down any type of protective circle before they started reading the incantation, so they managed to accidentally summon the closest demon. The closest demon just happened to be Charles, who was sitting in a study carrel in the library, working on his paper due at midnight. He’s definitely going to miss the deadline— another thing to kick Simon Mould’s arse for later.
Something about the summoning seems to have stripped away the veneer of humanity Charles wears so carefully, exposing his demon form: claws, fangs, forked tongue, burning red pupils, horns, and most damningly, a pair of leathery wings like a bat’s. Charles will be able to return to his human form, but it will take time and concentration, neither of which he has much of right now.
“Hey, it’s alright, mate.” Charles puts up his hands, spreading his fingers to show his lack of weapons. Given that he has claws, this seems to have the opposite effect. Edwin whimpers something that Charles can’t quite make out through the gag, cowering back and squeezing his eyes shut. Hurriedly, Charles adds, “Hey, hey, I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”
Edwin keeps begging through his gag, obviously not reassured, which is fair enough. Charles and Edwin exactly don’t know each other well. They lived in the same hall their first year at St. Hil’s, but they never had more than a few quick conversations. Charles always thought Edwin was insanely fit, but he didn’t seem even remotely interested the few times Charles tried to flirt, so he gave up. With the claws and the fangs, Charles isn’t even sure if Edwin will recognize him.
“I’m going to take out your gag now, yeah?” Charles waits for Edwin to nod hesitantly before reaching out one claw to gingerly slice through the scarf wrapped around Edwin’s mouth, careful not to prick the delicate skin underneath.
Edwin’s tongue flicks out as Charles pulls the gag away, prodding at the reddened skin at the corners of his mouth. He has tear tracks on his cheeks, Charles notices, stomach twisting. “Let me go,” he says, eyes still closed, like he’s bracing for a blow. He sounds so small that Charles’s heart just about breaks. “Please, let me go. Please.”
“I’m going to.” Charles keeps his voice as soothing as he can when he’s a towering abomination with wings and claws. “Edwin, hey, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Edwin opens his eyes, and for the first time, his gaze settles on Charles’s face. Under the fear, Charles sees a spark of recognition. “Charles?”
Charles gives an awkward little wave. “Hey, mate.”
“What are you…” Edwin looks between Charles and the grimoire still lying on the floor, right where Simon dropped it when Charles punched him in the face.
“Your idiot friends summoned me.”
“Summoned you?”
Charles frees one of Edwin’s wrists with another flick of his claws. “Well, sounds like they were trying to summon the demon Sa’al, but they didn’t do a protective circle or anything, which is just an amateur mistake, innit? So they got the nearest demon instead.”
“You?” Edwin’s throat bobs as he swallows.
“Yup.” Charles pops the p.
“And what are you going to do with me?” Edwin juts his chin out stubbornly, wearing the same expression he wore the time Charles dared interrupt his reading to try to make small talk back in their first year, like he cannot believe anyone would have the audacity. The fear in his eyes gives him away, though.
“Well, I’m hoping to get you out of this alive, aren’t I?” Charles frees Edwin’s other wrist. “Can you get your ankles?”
Edwin hesitates, like he thinks Charles might be trying to trick him, then nods.
From the looks of it, Simon and his arsehole friends interrupted Edwin while he was reading in bed. He’s in a pair of plaid flannel pajamas and there’s a half-drunk mug of tea sitting on the bedside table. A paperback thriller lies on the floor, the cover bent from where someone must have stepped on it. Charles picks it up and puts it on the bedside table next to the tea before he goes to retrieve the grimoire. Flipping through, he finds the ritual, eyes scanning the page. His Latin’s a bit rusty, but he gets the gist.
“Alright, mate,” he says. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”
“I cannot imagine there’s any good news right now.” Edwin sounds more annoyed than scared, which is an improvement.
Charles can’t argue with that. “Right, the bad news is that Simon must have some real magical talent, because he summoned Sa’al.”
He looks up to see Edwin sitting up in bed, his hands clenched tightly in front of him. His hair is out of its usual pomade, fluffy and wavy like he just washed it. It makes him look very young. “I thought you said they summoned you.”
“I just got caught in the crossfire. We’re lucky there weren’t any other demons in the vicinity, or this room would be packed with them.”
Edwin glances around, as if making sure there aren’t any demons lurking under his desk. “And?”
“And this ritual offered you up as a sacrifice to Hell,” Charles says, as gently as he can. “Meaning, your soul is Sa’al’s.”
In his demon form, he can practically taste Edwin’s soul. It’s sweet and a little peppery. There’s a not-insubstantial part of Charles that wants to rip it right out of him and devour it.
Edwin looks down at his clenched fist. “And the good news?”
“Well, this ritual calls for a virgin sacrifice.” Charles taps the page. “So as long as you’re not a virgin, it’s all a moot point, yeah? Sa’al won’t be able to take you to Hell. He’s a nice enough bloke, as far as demons go. He’ll respect the rules.”
Edwin is quiet for a moment, before he whispers, “And if I am a virgin?”
“Then rules are rules,” Charles says. “You were a sacrifice, so…” He trails off, because he doesn’t want to think about Edwin in his old-fashioned flannel pajamas and his fluffy hair, dragged to Hell for an eternity of torture.
“But that’s absurd!” Edwin snaps, glaring at Charles. “You cannot tell me that being buggered in the arse has any bearing whatsoever on the quality of my soul.”
“You don’t need to have been the one buggered in the arse, I’m pretty sure,” Charles says. “If you’ve done the buggering, that’d probably work too. No idea if mouths or fingers count, sorry. I’ve never really bothered asking what qualifies as a virgin sacrifice. So…”
Edwin’s face flushes a mottled red. “My experience with… that is none of your concern.”
“Think it might be right now.” Charles frowns. “Please tell me you’re not a virgin, mate.”
Edwin’s mouth works before he says, “Yes, I am.”
Charles probably shouldn’t have assumed. It’s just, Edwin’s one of the fittest people he’s ever met, with that proud nose, those long limbs, and those mossy green eyes. Who wouldn’t want to shag him? “What about that bloke you used to always hang around?”
“Monty?” Edwin sniffs. “We were just friends, if you must know.”
Given the way Monty always looked at Edwin, Charles wonders if Monty knew that. “Right, well, that’s not ideal.”
“So, you’re telling me that I’m doomed to Hell, just because I’ve never fucked anyone?” Edwin looks like he’s on the verge of panic again, breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. “That is so fucking stupid that it’s unbelievable.”
“Not necessarily.” Charles has an idea. He’s pretty sure it’s a shit idea, but it’s the only one he’s got at the moment. “Look, Sa’al’s going to answer the summons soon, but I put up wards to slow him down. We have time.”
“Time for what?” Edwin demands, voice shrill.
“Time to make sure you’re not a virgin when he gets here.”
Finally it is the day to post my fic for @dbda-creature-week Day 7: The Unknown!!!
I have been waiting (im)patiently all week and am very excited to share this one, it's a bit outside my usual and I'm extremely pleased with how this creepy, mysterious fic turned out. Enjoy!
Case 83: Unknown, 1997-????, Status: Open
(6654 words) by megs_bee
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace & Charles Rowland & Niko Sasaki, Cat King & Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland
Summary:
Monty lights up with curiosity. “We’ve heard a ton of stories about finished cases. I want to hear about one of the unfinished ones.”
Edwin hesitates. “But surely that’s less interesting than a closed case with a clever solution.” Because a neatly tied-up ending and a solved case is always his favourite, especially when Charles is the one to be particularly clever in the solving. But all he gets is a round of good-natured ‘boos’ for his trouble.
Thomas turns a pleading look in Edwin’s direction. “Come on, we all know you’re the bestest, brightest, handsomest ghost detective in the world. Telling us about one case that stumped you isn’t going to change that.”
Under the combined expectant gazes of the group, Edwin relents. He exchanges a speaking glance with Charles; an unvoiced question and answer. There are, in fact, not many options to choose from, but he knows they are in agreement. Edwin stands up from his desk and circles to the caseboard, slipping a card from the very bottom slot.
“It was not exactly a case,” Edwin begins.
“No one brought it to us,” Charles continues. “It just sorta … started.”
It’s not true shapeshifting, really. Some ghosts can acquire certain abilities in certain forms, but neither Charles nor Edwin have ever had that particular talent. It is more accurately described as a modulation of perception.
Charles, for example, can change the color of his clothing, or even its nature, adding items and, with practice, accessories, but he cannot alter its fundamental physical properties. Even to ghost hands, the pins feel the same as the fabric they pierce, and a thicker coat brings no extra warmth.
Edwin decided, at one point in 1997, to dedicate several months of his spare time to mastering the art. He hardly ever uses it, these days, since, no matter his apparent form, his size, strength, and other physical capabilities are unchanged, rendering the skill typically no more than a parlour trick whose novelty has worn off.
However -
The part of the human brain that remembers being prey does not take the time to verify vital statistics, and for even the most hardened troublemaker, when the ghost in front of them growls, and lengthens, and grows claws, and then a ghastly-white bear rises to its hind legs, towering twice their height, and opens a mouth full of knife-long teeth to let out a roar that seems to shake the ground -
I didn't have the time or energy to participate in @dbda-creature-week, but I do have a kelpie case fic that I'm not sure I'll ever have time to finish. Here's a little bit of it, in honor!
(ft. the beautiful page break that @many-gay-magpies made for the story, in case i never get to use it on ao3)
As Edwin dove headfirst into the lake, he tried to remember the last time he'd suffered from the cold. It must've been ten years, at least. Maybe twelve.
The phenomenon, while unusual, wasn’t unheard of in supernatural spaces. Many creatures—yetis, frost sprites, the Norse Hraesvelgr—heralded ice and snowstorms that affected spirits as much as humans. The kelpie, it seemed, was one of those creatures.
Edwin shook his head, brain seizing from the cold. Like snack food in a refrigerator, it supplied. The thought sounded suspiciously like something Charles would say.
Tendrils of vegetation tickled Edwin’s arms as he swam, beckoning him down, calling him deeper. It was a tempting thought. Orion was in the pond somewhere. Perhaps they could remain in its depths together, drifting in darkness for an eternity.
Edwin shook his head, ice shooting through his skull. Not Orion, he reminded himself. The horse he’d seen was a seaweed-haired kelpie, not a skewbald gelding. He needed to keep his wits about him.
A light shone in the distance, its ruddy hue rendering the pond a mottled purple. As Edwin swam towards it, he couldn’t help but feel like an angler fish’s prey. Kelpies were smart creatures—much smarter than mythology books gave them credit for. It could be anywhere, watching, waiting for its time to strike.
By some miracle, Edwin reached the light without issue. Its glowing body sat nestled in between what looked like two oversized pearls. Underneath them lay a small treasure trove: a handful of shiny pebbles, several pieces of golden jewelry, and a bejeweled high-heeled shoe.
Edwin swam closer, eyeing the pearls. Inside, a shape moved.
The pearls were not pearls at all. The pearls were eggs.
Orion—the kelpie, he reminded himself again—wasn’t a gelding. She was a mare, and more than that, she was a mother. No wonder she'd remained in such an unfit home. She couldn’t have left her nest any more than a nanny could leave her nursery.
Water jetted through Edwin’s fingers as he reached for the collection of trinkets. He had no intention of disturbing the kelpie’s offspring, or stealing her belongings. There was, however, one item that didn’t belong.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Here Be Monsters (3195 words) by dear_monday
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland
Characters: Charles Rowland (DCU), Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne
Additional Tags: look it’s not NOT a buzzfeed unsolved AU, does anyone still say ‘oh worm’, I suppose you could say things are getting pretty in-tents, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, First Kisses, Ephemera - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cryptozoologists
Summary:
An extract from the Cryptozoological Society’s quarterly newsletter, issue 588:
I reached out to Edwin Payne earlier this week in the hope that he might be prevailed upon to share some of his great great great grandfather’s personal diaries, so we could perhaps organise some readings. When I eventually succeeded in making contact, he said, “How in god’s name did you get this number? Bugger off and leave me alone, I’m terribly busy.” Assuming this to be nothing more than the famous Payne family sense of humour in action, I naturally called back, but haven’t yet managed to get hold of him again. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that you will all join me in wishing the very best of luck to Edwin and to Charles Rowland, who are currently preparing to mount an expedition to look for evidence of the Lambton Worm early in the new year.
Clarence Pembroke-Wetherby, Society secretary, September 22nd 2024
Written for day 6 of @dbda-creature-week: cryptids and legends!
