#payneland

[artemisadore]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

writing by @artemisadore | art by @tragedy-machine | part of @deadbangdetectives' Reverse Bang 2026 🤍

Left for dead on the steps of the cathedral's pulpit, newly-fallen-archangel Charles is found by recently-escaped-human-sacrifice Edwin, who risks capture just by stopping to help. What else can Charles do but marry him?

[hobbitsdoitbetter]

Golden

[technically-human]

What Charles would give to be able to bottle this moment. To hold it in his hands, tuck it in his jacket pocket, in his bag, to make sure it stayed safe.

Another scene from in the quiet space between holidays, let us care for you like you have cared for us by @regretsofaghost! The boys are being cute and sweet and adorable and precious and- you get it.

This was a commission and I'm very grateful I was allowed to play with the lights like this! I hope you guys like the result too!

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Slowly, and yet in no time at all, the memories which Edwin thumbed like prayer beads in times of hardship had shifted, the faces of his polite, distant relatives fading like photographs in the sun. Now running through his palm it was only Charles; his sunny smiles, the crinkles around his bright eyes, the imaginary weight of his head upon Edwin’s shoulder. His steadfast support, even his rare, mercurial temper, righteous as any avenging angel. It was simply Charles all the way down, threaded through the burnt-edged tapestry of Edwin’s afterlife, written through his core in cross-section like letters in a stick of Brighton rock. To the heart—though he hasn’t had a beating one as long as they’ve known one another. To the blood. To the bone.

Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? the fourth and final chapter, out now!

Thank you so so much everyone who's waited patiently for this chapter, I know it's been a VERY long time in the making. I hope the resolution is satisfying, even if it's unsurprising 💛

[hyacinthgrew]

That scene in dead boy detectives episode 7 where charles goes to hell to bring edwin back by showing the night nurse how they first met, where edwin confesses and charles makes orpheus and eurydice reference is extremely rosekiller coded I can't explain

[carebeardean]

payneland supernatural au

Charles’ angel perches on the edge of the bed like a bird about to take flight.

He’s never been able to stop thinking of Edwin as holy, even now, with most of the grace bled out of him, leaving behind this coltish man with eyes too old for his face. As for the his bit— he’s got the shape of Edwin’s long fingers clasped around his wrist, scarred over, and Edwin had admitted he didn’t hate being called their angel, his and Crystal’s, in one of those rare moments of stiff shyness. That he felt a far greater purpose serving them than heaven. So what if Charles holds it like honey in his mouth, like sand slipping through his fingers?

“Hey, Edwin.” Charles sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Its past midnight. He keeps his voice to a low whisper, mindful of Crystal dead asleep in the other bed. “How’re your adventures on Earth? Got a favorite from the playlist?”

“Nina Simone, most certainly,” Edwin drops Charles battered ipod back in his open palm. “I listened to her rendition of Lilac Wine as the sun set in Varanasi. It was.. moving.”

Charles bends an elbow and leans back to drink him in; the eyes bright with a fervor neatly contained, the hands smoothing his trousers flat, the hair just slightly untamed.

Sometimes he feels like he stole Edwin, all those years ago, by being just a pathetic enough sight in hell, weeping as he picked up the knife, that Edwin had to go and drag him out, fall from grace just to keep him safe from heaven’s watchful eyes. And then there are the nights where Charles feels like Edwin stole him, when they nudge and twist into one narrow bed, and Edwin whispers of the wonders of the world, how he never felt so alive in centuries of existence.

“Tell me about it?” Charles asks, and Edwin does. About wandering the banks of the Ganges centuries ago, its waters lapping over cracked stone, the raucous laughter of children playing. The same city, now, the great grandchildren of those children’s faces turned to the orange sun sinking over the horizon.

“Sounds beautiful,” Charles says, hushed.

Christ, he’s not good with words like Edwin. Born poet, he is, though he supposes Edwin wasn’t born. Does he have a birthday? Creation day? Maybe they could pick a random day and celebrate.

“Perhaps one day you could join me,” Edwin says.

Maybe, if he’s not dead by twenty four. It only takes one hunt gone wrong.

“Maybe,” Charles stretches on a smile.

Edwin tilts his head, frowning slightly.

“What else did you see?” Charles says quickly.

“I discovered a device called a,” Edwin pauses for effect. “Hmm.”

Charles leans in, grinning.

“”Claw machine,” which resembled nothing so much as one of hells torture devices.”

Charles snorts, sides shaking with quiet laughter.

“That so?”

“Yes. Then I realized it was another instrument of capitalism.”

“Right, and how many quarters did you spend before you realized that?”

“That is irrelevant,” Edwin sniffs, haughty.

Charles snickers.

“Would you like your gift, or would you prefer to continue to ridicule me?”

“A gift?” Charles sits up. “Mate, you didn’t have to—“

“I wanted to,” Edwin says, firm in that sincere way of his that makes Charles skin itch just looking at him. (His Dad, military hunter to his core, would’ve hated Edwin if he hadn’t put a round of bullets in him first. Charles has never been so cleanly, simply glad he's gone as when Edwin glides more than walks).

“Right,” Charles clears his throat. “Let’s see it, then.”

Edwin reaches into the pocket of his deep blue overcoat and holds out—

“Hold on,” Charles blinks, “is that..”

“Yes.”

Charles reaches out and brushes the worn, floppy ear of Spot, the exact beanie baby dog he had as a kid.

“I thought,” Charles swallows, blinking quick. “Thought he ended up in a bin somewhere.” *When Dad decided I was too old for that shit, he doesn’t say.

“In a charity shop, actually. Rescued by a do-gooder. It was only a minor miracle to retrieve it,” Edwin waves a dismissive hand.

Charles swallows around tightness in his throat.

“Have I performed the ritual incorrectly?”

“Ritual?”

“Of gift giving,” Edwin pauses. “Charles, are you alright? I do apologize if—“

All the air rushes out of Edwin’s lungs as Charles tugs him into a hug.

“Nah, mate, you did good,” he says into Edwin’s shoulder. “Sometimes, humans, we cry when we’re really happy.”

“Oh.” Edwin relaxes against him, clumsily patting Charles on the back in imitation. “That seems.. contradictory.”

“Yeah,” Charles huffs, nuzzling into Edwin’s neck. “Thats us, the human race. A load of contradictions.”

“Yes, Ive found that to be true,” Edwin says. “Its a good thing I’ve grown fond of a select few of you.”

“Yeah, and who’d that be?”

“Niko.”

“‘Course.”

“Crystal, I suppose, under duress.”

“Anyone else make the list?”

“Charles, you are the list,” Edwin huffs. “There is no need to fish for compliments.”

Charles feels his face go hot against Edwin’s neck, squirms a bit in his arms.

“Truly,” Edwin’s saying, “the inhabitants of Earth will never know how lucky they are that you were one of the first humans I met.”

“Cant just say that,” Charles mutters in protest.

“Can’t I?” Edwin says, all ancient arrogance.

Charles shivers, something hot turning over in his belly.

“I am fortunate to have met you, Charles Rowland.”

He takes a shuddering breath, thinks pretty sure its the other way around, and Im so fucking sorry I dragged you down to Earth, and the nameless, tangled thing welling in his ribcage, the back of his throat—

Edwin draws back, tilting his head like he’s listening to something. “I believe Niko is summoning me. Nothing to worry about, just a small issue with tracking a vampire nest. Do sleep well.”

He darts a closed mouth smile at Charles, and between one blink and the next is gone.

Charles exhales, shaky, thumbs the threadbare remains of the childhood Edwin left in his scarred hands. In the black pouring through the flimsy hotel curtains, he thinks about the thing swelling in his throat, growing roots, the word he doesn't want to speak.

[technically-human]

A summer festival date case!

A commission for @creamsoda1998! as always, her ideas are just the cutest!

And if that wasn't enough sweetness:

More summer vibes!

[ice-elf]

Mixed by Hand - Chapter 10

Mixed by Hand is back, friends!

Title: Mixed by Hand

Authors: @ice-elf

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Payneland, (with background crystal/niko, Past Edwin/OC based on the Demon Spider, minor (past) Edwin/Cat King, One-Sided Monty/Edwin

Status: 10 chapters posted Chapter 10 is here and if you want to start at the beginning, here you go. Charles was 16 when he ran away from home and found himself in the kitchen at Café Vivienne. Caught in the act of stealing a roll of bread, he expected to be arrested. Instead he found a home, a purpose, family.

Of course, none of that lasted. Aunt Vivi—his beloved mentor—died six months ago, and now Charles’s livelihood is under threat when her estranged great nephew—and his former best friend—Edwin, returns to claim his inheritance.

It won’t be a happy reunion. <B>Warnings:</b> Domestic abuse is the main one - a full explanation is provided on chapter one, and I'm always happy to discuss in more detail