perseidlion

[perseidlion]

Adding to this: why would you, as someone engaging in creating art, want to make it impossible for artists to make a living off their art?

Corporate IP protections are also individual IP protections.

Are these people saying that if they wrote and published a novel, they'd be cool with anybody taking what they wrote, changing it or adding to it, then publishing it and making money off it with zero compensation or permission from you?

Yes, Disney, etc, overreach with their IP. But the same laws that protect them also protect an individual creator who writes a novel.

Eroding IP rights makes it difficult to impossible to make a living as a writer.

I'm so glad to see AO3 making it absolutely clear that none of these things are allowed to even be HINTED at.

Here's some of the language from the new post about AO3's police on commercial promotion:

-

There is a wide variety of things that are not allowed under AO3's non-commercialization rules.

Any other language which one might interpret as requesting or having requested financial contributions, whether for yourself or others. This covers indirect references, euphemisms, or other language intended to get around the TOS. Some examples of this include:

Thanks for the coffee!

My ☕ username is the same as my username here

This chapter is brought to you by my patrons

You know where to find me if you want early or bonus chapters

Check out my Twitter to learn how you can donate to me since I'm not allowed to discuss it here

If you want to hear more about my ideas, talk about fandom, or find more of my stuff for a coin, visit my Tumblr

Solicitation is not allowed, whether it's for yourself or on behalf of someone else.

[perseidlion]

I've never understood people who insist on perfectly adapting stories to other mediums.

It's an adaptation. It should do something new while staying true to the original and very likely improving on it.

Sometimes "staying true" doesn't mean keeping every character and plot point. It can mean sticking to the spirit and themes of the original.

I say this as a writer with two professional, paid projects upcoming. If an adaptation is ever made of either, I would want whoever was doing the adaptation to put their own spin on it. I would not want them to feel hamstrung by perfectly recreating my work word-for-word with no changes or omissions.

I legit find it kind of boring when an adaptation is so exact that I'm basically reliving the same story but in HD.

I want to see the world expanded and to be shown something new. Otherwise why bother with an adaptation at all?

[perseidlion]

just remember, if you think you are hornyposting too much about Star Trek,

no you aren't, keep posting and stop holding back. Roddenberry Wants You (To Write Yaoi Fanfiction)

[perseidlion]

One of the best compliments to get as a fic writer is when someone loves my OCs.

Like, I know most fic readers are there for the blorbos they already know. So if they love my totally weird little guy I completely made up, that is a huge accomplishment and so nice to hear.

[perseidlion]

a feel like the new generation of fanfic readers NEED to understand that clicking on a fic (interaction) does nothing. ao3 has no algorithm. your private discord discussions of fic do not reach the authors. if you do not actively engage with writers they will stop posting. this isn’t social media this is community.

[perseidlion]

It's been a little concerning to see people interpret June and Nick as some great love story, and Nick as a secret savior. The show established early on and made it very clear that although Nick might genuinely love June, that does not mean he hates Gilead or wants to see it fall.

Let's recontextualize his arc but substitute Nazi Germany for Gilead. I don't do this lightly, but in this case I think Atwood and the show are drawing deliberate parallels to fascism and authoritarianism, including Nazis.

I use the word switch to remind us of just how evil they are, and how no one in the audience would give him that much sympathy if he was a real person in a real fascist state.

So, pre-rise of the Nazis, young Nick feels like a loser. He's very average in a lot of respects. He doesn't come from money or privilege. (Nick said himself that if Gilead hadn't happened, he'd be bagging June's groceries.) The Nick we see doesn't seem particularly angry or disaffected, but by the time we meet him, he has real power. He felt the system as it was disadvantaged him, so he was enticed by the promise of changing it.

So this young man gets approached and radicalized by the Nazis before their full rise to power. He helps them out and they make him feel important. Through them, he sees a path to real power and relevance. He doesn't necessarily believe in all their ideology, but they're promising him things no one else has. (Serena says in the show that Nick was a soldier. So in this scenario, he plays an active role in the rise of Nazi Germany.)

For his service as a soldier, he is rewarded again and made a member of the Gestapo.

Then he falls in love with an enslaved woman. But it is always an open question whether that love would have happened without June desperately searching for any slice of light to keep from going mad.

June is hugely traumatized by abuse and institutionalised rape. Nick, who is genuinely gentle and cares about her, is a beacon of hope. She is drawn to him, even though he is the enemy.

Nick loves her enough to help her, even though it risks his position and his own life. But crucially, he only ever helps her or himself. It is never about the other abused people, or about taking down Gilead. It's always about her. He loves her, so he helps her escape. Any help he gives to anyone else is always incidental or because June explicitly asks.

Nick, crucially, does not do anything without being asked or because he thinks June would want him to do something. When June seems to be out of the fight, he stops responding to Mayday. The only person he'll stick out his neck for is June. He would burn Gilead if it would mean he'd get to be with her, but not because he hates Gilead.

When push comes to shove, Nick not only sacrifices a dozen innocent women to save himself, he uses that sacrifice to further solidify and improve his position. His disloyalty becomes proof of loyalty in the eyes of his superiors.

Nick knows that June will never forgive him for that, so he tries to get her to run away with him before she finds out. Of course, when she does, she cannot forgive him. Whether he did it because he felt cornered, or because he'd become addicted to the power and respect he'd been given is an open question. But whatever it was, he proves what the Swiss said about him all those years ago: Nick Blaine is not to be trusted.

Look, I get why people were attached to the romance between Nick and June. It has elements of star-crossed lovers and their relationship was full of danger and big emotions. We follow the series through June's eyes, and June genuinely loved Nick. It makes sense that we'd be rooting for them on some level (at least until the Jezebel betrayal.) We were meant to, as a matter of fact. It's part of the show's MO of showing fascists and authoritarians as real people - and the people around them who facilitated their rise out of self-interest.

Good people can do bad things out of selfishness. Loving someone does not absolve you of your sins. It is not a selfless act to take risks if you are doing so only to save the person you want to be with.

Nick only did things out of selfishness, not because he hated Gilead and wanted to see it fall. He did it because he wanted June to be safe. And he wanted her to be safe for him. He supported her cause only when she asked. On that fact alone, they were always doomed. On some level, June knew it, too.

If this show was explicitly about a Gestapo agent falling in love with a sex slave, none of us would even entertain the idea that their story was romantic or healthy. The power of speculative/alternate history fiction is to make us look at things in new ways, so we can see the signs for what they are and be on-guard to the rise of fascism.

Why would a show that is explicitly anti-fascist reward a complacent fascist with a happy ending with the hero?

Evil doesn't always come twirling a moustache, and otherwise good people can facilitate the rise of monsters out of selfishness.

And look, it's totally okay to get a bit of a thrill out of their dangerous romance. But I don't think there is any way you can twist Nick into a heroic figure or someone on a path to redemption if you remove your June-coloured glasses and see him for what he was: a Nazi who chose to be a Nazi - and chose the Nazis over June in the end.

[perseidlion]

I love science fiction. I can suspend my disbelief and eat up technobabble with a spoon. Just be consistent with the rules of your own universe but you don't have to be beholden to the minutiae at the expense of story.

There is however, one unforgiveable sin in a futuristic setting: accidental pregnancy.

With the contraceptive technology we have NOW, accidental pregnancies are uncommon. Sure they do happen. But if one partner is on birth control and the other is wearing a condom, you're pretty well-protected.

So when you're talking so far in the future that there is faster-than-light travel, most major diseases have been cured, and you have the ability to regenerate skin and limbs, you're telling me that birth control that is 100% effective and foolproof doesn't exist?

Bullshit.

OK, OK, for Star Wars maybe Anakin has some special Midicholrian amped sperm. But if that was the case, everyone should've been shocked that an unplanned pregnancy even happened. It should be impossible.

But this happens in other franchises too.

Star Trek has miraculous medicine! There is absolutely no reason why any pregnancy should be a surprise unless for some reason, the couple decided to play Russian roulette and deliberately take less effective birth control I guess??

Like, I can imagine that both parties have something that prevents pregnancy and both would have to fail at the same time for anything to happen.

The worst offender of this in recent memory was season 3 of Star Trek: Picard. I am a HUGE TNG fan and for the most part I really loved the season. However, Beverley's accidental pregnancy by Picard makes NO sense.

(There is also no way he's 22 and the excuse for him having an English accent is hella weak.)

There are only two reasons that explain Jack's existence. One is that somehow Starfleet doesn't have 100% effective birth control (which seems totally impossible) or Beverley did something to both hers and Jean-Luc's birth control without his consent (which would be a huge violation of medical ethics among other things.)

That takes me right out of the story. Because what that tells me is that in this futuristic setting (that is supposed to be a utopia) reproductive rights are not a priority.

I hate that, actually.

(How the hell did B'Elanna get pregnant accidentally? Klingon/human medicine exists and there have been more than a few half or quarter Klingons in canon.)

So does that mean there should be no accidental pregnancy stories in these settings at all? I mean, ideally? They're so done to death and are rarely that interesting.

But if you ARE going to have it happen, make up some in-universe explanation! Don't act like birth control is still flawed and imperfect hundreds of years in the future when we're not that far from it NOW.

(Seriously, Ben? You let your contraceptive injection run out? What about Kasidy's birth control? At least they paid lip service to this but I call BS on male birth control that requires upkeep in the 24th century.)

If one of the two parties is a novel (not canonically common) alien, well there's your excuse right there. You can also do things with weird atmospheres, radiation, the meddling of omipotent beings, nanobots...etc. But give it a reason. And let everyone around the characters (including the characters themselves) be SHOCKED that an accidental pregnancy happened. Don't just port the present-day situation around birth control hundreds of years into the future or into a galaxy far far away.

A future without reproductive rights for all (including effective contraception) is not an equal one. Your world is only playing lip service to the concept of equality if accidental pregnancies aren't impossible under normal circumstances.

I would much prefer to see more space couples choose to have children than to have that situation thrust upon them.

[perseidlion]

Chapter 4 is live as of May 5!

The Case of the Marriage Retreat - Payneland Fake Marriage (M, ongoing, regular updates.)

Edwin and Charles go undercover to an Welsh manor house for a week-long couples retreat. They are there to investigate a black market magic auction. While they investigate, they are pretending to be a young married couple. Edwin has accepted that Charles doesn't feel the same way about him. But pretending to be married stirs up feelings he thought he'd learned to live with. And Charles? He's experiencing what it's like to be seen as a bisexual man for the first time. Maybe it suits him better than he thought it would?

Chapter 1

“Are we sure this is the best way to crack this case, mate? I mean, we could just haunt the place and watch them,” said Charles.

The Dead Boy Detectives stood behind a giant old oak by the gate of an old manor house in the Welsh countryside. The building was as imposing as it was beautiful - and more than a little creepy. It was made of washed white stone in a C shape - three storeys high and a presence against the misty rolling hills of the land surrounding it. The building had once been owned by some extremely wealthy lord, and the architecture reflected that storied and wealthy past.

It was late autumn and there was a snap in the air that promised frost. Even with most of its leaves gone, the branches of the oak were close enough together to obscure the pair from the occasional car that rolled up the lane.

“That’s still part of the plan,” said Edwin. “But if we enter as ghosts, we must remain as ghosts. Which means we’d lose the opportunity to question anyone should the need arise. If we enter with disguises in place, we can do both.”

Edwin shifted his weight and clasped his hands firmly in front of him. He stared up at the house and tried to push down nerves. Buildings like the manor house brought back unpleasant memories of his childhood. Although his family was not in possession of a stately home of their own, relations once removed did. That meant he’d spent holidays at a house like that - a perpetual outsider even though he looked like he belonged.

“Right, well, Crystal registered us by posing as our travel agent,” said Charles as he pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket. His endless backpack was draped over one shoulder. Both also had small roller suitcases packed with items one might need for a week-long retreat in the country. “If anyone asks, we took an…” he consulted a note from Crystal, “....Uber from the train station.”

“Well,” said Edwin as he tugged on the front of his jacket. “I suppose there’s nothing for it but to begin our investigation. You’ve got the disguises?”

Charles stuck his hand into the backpack and pulled out a ring case. He popped it open and presented it to Edwin. “Should I get down on one knee?” he quipped.

Inside were two wedding bands. One was gold with a strip of silver, and the other was silver with a strip of gold.

Edwin felt his mouth go dry. The reason for the rings was purely practical, but the symbolism was a gut punch given his recent confession on the steps of Hell. “Which…em…which one is mine?”

Charles eyed Edwin. “You alright? It’s not too late to back out.”

“No, no. This is…” Edwin took a deep breath, “...this is far too important. “If this retreat really is a cover for trading in dangerous magical artifacts, someone must put a stop to it.” Then he stuck out his hand at Charles, fingers splayed. He looked away like he was about to get a shot.

Charles eyed him, then shrugged. He picked up the gold ring with the silver stripe down the middle, then slipped it onto Edwin’s ring finger.

Edwin felt the energy of the spell trickling out from the ring the moment it was on. A magical bluish fog enveloped him and twisted around his body.

The first time donning a disguise was always very strange. It was as if the magic was forming itself to his body and coupling with his spiritual essence.

The spell Charles had endowed the rings with was heartier and more solid than their usual disguises. As ‘Aunt Cindy’, Edwin did not feel the world any differently than he did as his real self. He was also incapable of eating or drinking, and the spell would lose power after a time.

The rings weren’t gold and silver by accident. The metals were endowed with alchemical principles that made them their own battery to both power the illusion and make them altogether more real. The inner band could be twisted to activate or deactivate the illusion as needed.

The rings were powered by their ghostly essence, which had the side effect of making them sleepy. While wearing disguises, they’d sleep about seven hours a night to recharge the magic.

For that reason, and for the length of time they’d be spending undercover, they’d opted for faces and bodies not that unlike their own.

When the magical smoke cleared from in front of Edwin’s eyes, he looked down at a larger and thicker pair of hands and a plain navy blue suit with a t-shirt underneath. He was also wearing a faun wool overcoat in a classic and aristocratic cut.

Charles was likewise examining his hands. His disguise was dark-haired and dark-eyed, with curly hair - though not quite as curly as the real thing. He was a little taller, but a fair bit broader. His eyebrows were thick and expressive. He was wearing jeans with a black t-shirt, a plaid overshirt and a black leather jacket.

When he smiled at Edwin, it was all Charles, no matter how different he looked. Edwin would have found his disguise handsome regardless, but knowing it was him provoked a ping of longing.

“Fucking aces,” said Charles. “Blond suits you.” His accent was still his own, but his voice was quite different.

Neither of them knew for sure why it was impossible to craft a disguise that was identical to their ghostly forms. Edwin’s theory was that if it were possible, it would be akin to coming back to life. Which is something Death would obviously not allow. The disguises they were wearing were as close as Charles could make them to their real selves as the magic would let him make them.

Edwin reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He poked a passcode into it just like Crystal had shown him and opened the camera app. Usually he resisted using technology, but Crystal rightly pointed out that two young men in their twenties who didn’t have phones would stick out. So she’d given them both a crash course in How Not To Look Like An Old Person Using a Phone 101.

Edwin flipped the camera around to selfie mode like Crystal had shown him. The face that was staring back at him was less like himself in some ways than Charles’. He still looked incredibly aristocratic, but his hair was golden blond and his eyes were blue. His features were altogether softer. He touched his cheek and his lips, which were quite full.

Charles stepped up beside him and draped his arm around his shoulders. He leaned into the frame and hit the button to take a photo with a big smile on his face, his cheek pressed against Edwin’s. “We look brilliant. I think this is going to work. C’mon, let’s get inside.” He clapped him on the shoulder and then grabbed the handles of both their suitcases and started to drag them up the lane.

Edwin stared at the photo of two strangers. They looked very different, but the longer he looked, the more he saw the people they truly were.

“Come on, mate!” called Charles. “Or should I say, babe.” He winked. “ I can feel the cold and I don’t much care for it.”

The cold?

Edwin slid his phone away and then rubbed his hands together. He did feel a little cold. “Fascinating,” he murmured to himself. What other sensations had the disguises given them?

“Edwin! Come on!” called Charles from where he’d already engaged a couple making their way up the walk.

Edwin straightened his shoulders, then made his way up the lane to join Charles.

—

The entryway of Llanfair Hall was packed with arriving guests sipping welcome cocktails as they waited to be escorted up to their rooms. Porters moved through the crowd and collected bags from the guests in exchange for a ticket. There was a banner that hung above the great hearth that was crackling with a blazing fire.

WELCOME TO THE LLANFAIR HALL COUPLES RETREAT

By the time Edwin made his way through the hall and past the crowd, Charles was already at the front desk signing paperwork.

“Ah, there you are. Was wondering if you got lost or something,” said Charles. He was brimming with energy and excitement.

Edwin smiled gently. It made him happy to see Charles so excited, even if he was rather uncomfortable. “Here I am,” he replied. He hadn’t spoken since he’d donned the disguise. His voice was quite similar to his own, except deeper and more resonant. He walked stiffly up and stood beside Charles.

“Maria, this is my husband, Edwin,” said Charles as he signed the paperwork.

They’d opted to keep their first names for the same reason the disguises weren’t that different from their real selves - to reduce the chances of slipping up. They’d spent an inordinate amount of time brainstorming surnames until they’d landed on Bond-Holmes.

It was laughably easy for Crystal to guess which part of the surname belonged to whom. She warned them people would point it out, but they hadn’t been able to agree on any other combination of names. So Edwin and Charles Bond-Holmes it was.

“Welcome, Edwin,” said Maria, a round-faced woman in her early thirties with braided hair and a lovely Welsh lilt. “Is this your first time at Llanfair Hall?”

“Ah, yes, yes it is. Though my family used to summer not too far from here,” said Edwin. That was the truth. And that was why the architecture of the Hall invoked such strong - and not altogether pleasant - memories.

“Can I just say…” said Maria as she leaned in, “It’s lovely that we’ve got so many couples such as yourself this time around. We’ve really been trying to let folk know that everyone is welcome here.”

Charles was visibly confused for a moment. He blinked, then looked at Edwin and he caught her meaning. “Oh! Oh. Yes. Em, yes. Well, all marriages need a little help sometimes, yeah? That’s what they’ve got in common.” Then he stood there smiling awkwardly.

“Charles,” said Edwin gently. “Perhaps we should let the next guests check in?”

“Right, right! Well, it was lovely to meet you, Maria.” Charles grinned. It was remarkable how much of his real self shone through on his new face.

“Let me know if you need anything, Misters Bond-Holmes. Have a wonderful stay,” said Maria. “We just ask that you wait for a porter to escort you to the room so we don’t get congestion on the stairs. It won’t be but a minute. You’re some of the last to arrive.”

Charles swept a pair of keys off the counter and stepped away. He leaned in to murmur to Edwin. “This might be more difficult than I thought. I know it would’ve been harder for you, but it’d be easier for me if your disguise was a woman.”

“Yes, well,” said Edwin tightly. “I’m not. So you’ll simply have to deal with it.” He reached out and grabbed one of the keys and then started up the steps despite Maria’s instructions. He wasn’t sure why exactly that bothered him so much, as it had been his idea to make his most often-used disguise a woman. But something about it in this context felt like a rejection.

“Edwin!” Charles called after him.

But he didn’t stop.

Edwin made his way through the crowd. He felt anxiety creeping up his spine. It took him a moment to realize that he was anxious because he wasn’t accustomed to being seen by so many people. He’d chosen an older woman as a disguise in part because he did not want to be perceived by the living world as he truly was. In his current form, people saw him very close to his real self, sexuality and all. It made him extremely self-conscious and eager to get out of the public eye.

He climbed the twisting wooden grand staircase up to two levels to the third floor. Edwin kept out of the way of porters carrying bags up and escorting guests to their rooms.

There were thirty rooms at Llanfair Hall, which meant twenty to thirty couples there for the retreat. The majority of them were not likely aware of the dark magic auction and were instead used as cover. But some of them were there expressly to pick up dangerous dark items. The challenge would be to figure out which was which.

There was a healthy mix of same-sex and heterosexual couples he passed on the way to the room, which made Edwin feel less self-conscious. Most were in their late twenties up to early fifties, well-dressed and either stylish or posh. The retreat was not five stars, but the accommodations were luxe enough to attract a more upscale clientele.

It was too early to start building profiles of people and everyone was on their way to where they were going in a bit of a hurry. There would be time for a proper investigation later.

Edwin made his way to their assigned room, which was down a narrow hall in the west wing of the hotel, away from most of the other guests. They had chosen that one on purpose, to make their comings and goings easier.

On instinct, Edwin tried to phase through the door. He bounced off it rather embarrassingly, since the spell made him as solid and as real as a living being. He reached a hand up to touch his stinging nose.

“Well that was an altogether foolish thing to do,” he muttered to himself.

Then Edwin fumbled with the key and turned the lock. He pushed it open to reveal a large and inviting room with exposed wooden beams and high ceilings. The walls were covered in rich wood panelling while opulent carpets covered the floor.

There was a seating area with a small table in front of a fireplace that was warm and inviting. A welcome basket and a schedule for the week sat next to it. Their suitcases were already waiting on a side-by-side pair of folding luggage racks. All the furniture fit in very well with the historic setting while not looking run-down or kitsch. It was the perfect balance between luxury and modernity.

Past the seating area was a large king-sized bed with a beautiful handmade quilt and contrasting throw pillows in shades of red and gold. A large steamer trunk sat at the end that brought back vivid memories of time spent in similar estates as a child. Past the bed was a small balcony that looked out over the back garden and a small pond. There was a giant portrait on the wall of a hunting scene. The painting was dated 1917 in the lower left hand corner.

Edwin closed his eyes and tried to centre himself. As he did, he began to really take stock of all the ways the spell was acting on his body. He could feel a residual chill on his skin from the time spent standing outside. He could smell the wood of the old building, and the faint hint of woodsmoke from the logs in the fireplace. He rubbed his finger over the surface of the wedding band. It felt cold to the touch but was quickly warming up the longer he spent indoors.

When he opened his eyes, Edwin found himself staring at the bed.

The bed. Singular. And one of the things the disguise did was make sleep a necessity.

Edwin’s cheeks burned hot. He turned away to face an old silver mirror with gilded edges. The blond posh young man stared back at him, his aristocratically pale cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He shifted and looked away.

Edwin found himself hoping against hope that the investigation would take up most of their time. Otherwise it was going to be a very long week.

Read Chapter 2 on AO3

[perseidlion]

tender catwin based on @perseidlion's AU continuity, The Ballad of Edwin and Cat

[perseidlion]

Fun fact, there is a TNG video board game from the 90s where Gowron is the antagonist. Well, they gave him a different name and a different forehead but he acts exactly the same as Gowron. He jumpscares you every few minutes while you're playing the game.

gowron is my favorite klingon im always hooting and hollering every time he shows up and not even cause i have any particular strong feelings on his personality or character, but just because he looks like this:

[perseidlion]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Monty (Dead Boy Detectives)/Charles Rowland (DCU) Characters: Monty (Dead Boy Detectives), Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: cricketcrow, Established Relationship, Complicated Relationships, Bisexual Charles Rowland (DCU), Reconciliation, Sloppy Makeouts, Flirting, Gift Giving, Making Up, Dress Up Series: Part 6 of The Ballad of Edwin and Cat - Catwin Continity, Part 20 of Perseid_Lion's Dead Boy Detectives Summary:

Just a little Cricketcrow fic to celebrate 1 year of DBDA!

-- In the aftermath of Monty's kidnapping, Charles and he work to reconcile and move forward.

-- This follows in my Ballad of Edwin and Cat continuity, but you can read it as a standalone! What's important is that Charles and Monty got together a few months prior to the story, but they've had their bumps along the way. This is in the aftermath of a kidnapping where Monty was rescued from a witch.

[perseidlion]

Happy 1 year anniversary to the best show, I miss you every day

[perseidlion]

Hey Devil's Minion fans, is there a cool community out there somewhere? Discord or elsewhere?

[perseidlion]

I wish that people who wanted to downvote fics and leave "constructive" criticism/comment negatively would realize that is NEVER going to fly.

As much as they might want the right to be negative about someone's piece of hobby work writers shared with others for fun, the majority of writers are simply not going to take it.

Taking negativity is something professional writers have to learn to deal with because they are engaging in commerce. A fic writer has the option to simply stop posting. Because if people are going to be dicks, then...why post?

The whole conversation is pretty moot. Writers can choose not to post if they're going to be met with negativity. They don't lose money or hurt careers by not putting up with that BS. But those negative people sure as hell will lose fics, as OP said.

It's irrelevant whether some people think writers should "grow a thicker skin." Many people either do not want to do that, or they have thick skin but want a place to just write for fun. If people try and force it, writers will stop putting their fic where these negative people can read it.

You can't force people to accept negativity and "constructive" criticism that is more often than not just complaints about how the fic doesn't cater specifically to them. Not when there's no money involved.

Those people are also going to find themselves blocked by writers if they try to force negativity on people.

So one way or another, they get less to read.

You can already "review" fics by commenting/kudosing/bookmarking the things you love and hyping them up with your community. If you don't like it, click away and go on with your life. You NOT doing the above when you don't like a fic is as much negativity as fic writing needs.

"i want a dislike button on ao3" so you want less fanfic. even if you don't think you want less fanfic you want less fanfic. because when people start getting dislikes on their fanfic they will want to write less fanfic. hope this helps <3

[perseidlion]

Chapter 3 now up!

The Case of the Marriage Retreat - Payneland Fake Marriage (M, ongoing, regular updates.)

Edwin and Charles go undercover to an Welsh manor house for a week-long couples retreat. They are there to investigate a black market magic auction. While they investigate, they are pretending to be a young married couple. Edwin has accepted that Charles doesn't feel the same way about him. But pretending to be married stirs up feelings he thought he'd learned to live with. And Charles? He's experiencing what it's like to be seen as a bisexual man for the first time. Maybe it suits him better than he thought it would?

Chapter 1

“Are we sure this is the best way to crack this case, mate? I mean, we could just haunt the place and watch them,” said Charles.

The Dead Boy Detectives stood behind a giant old oak by the gate of an old manor house in the Welsh countryside. The building was as imposing as it was beautiful - and more than a little creepy. It was made of washed white stone in a C shape - three storeys high and a presence against the misty rolling hills of the land surrounding it. The building had once been owned by some extremely wealthy lord, and the architecture reflected that storied and wealthy past.

It was late autumn and there was a snap in the air that promised frost. Even with most of its leaves gone, the branches of the oak were close enough together to obscure the pair from the occasional car that rolled up the lane.

“That’s still part of the plan,” said Edwin. “But if we enter as ghosts, we must remain as ghosts. Which means we’d lose the opportunity to question anyone should the need arise. If we enter with disguises in place, we can do both.”

Edwin shifted his weight and clasped his hands firmly in front of him. He stared up at the house and tried to push down nerves. Buildings like the manor house brought back unpleasant memories of his childhood. Although his family was not in possession of a stately home of their own, relations once removed did. That meant he’d spent holidays at a house like that - a perpetual outsider even though he looked like he belonged.

“Right, well, Crystal registered us by posing as our travel agent,” said Charles as he pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket. His endless backpack was draped over one shoulder. Both also had small roller suitcases packed with items one might need for a week-long retreat in the country. “If anyone asks, we took an…” he consulted a note from Crystal, “....Uber from the train station.”

“Well,” said Edwin as he tugged on the front of his jacket. “I suppose there’s nothing for it but to begin our investigation. You’ve got the disguises?”

Charles stuck his hand into the backpack and pulled out a ring case. He popped it open and presented it to Edwin. “Should I get down on one knee?” he quipped.

Inside were two wedding bands. One was gold with a strip of silver, and the other was silver with a strip of gold.

Edwin felt his mouth go dry. The reason for the rings was purely practical, but the symbolism was a gut punch given his recent confession on the steps of Hell. “Which…em…which one is mine?”

Charles eyed Edwin. “You alright? It’s not too late to back out.”

“No, no. This is…” Edwin took a deep breath, “...this is far too important. “If this retreat really is a cover for trading in dangerous magical artifacts, someone must put a stop to it.” Then he stuck out his hand at Charles, fingers splayed. He looked away like he was about to get a shot.

Charles eyed him, then shrugged. He picked up the gold ring with the silver stripe down the middle, then slipped it onto Edwin’s ring finger.

Edwin felt the energy of the spell trickling out from the ring the moment it was on. A magical bluish fog enveloped him and twisted around his body.

The first time donning a disguise was always very strange. It was as if the magic was forming itself to his body and coupling with his spiritual essence.

The spell Charles had endowed the rings with was heartier and more solid than their usual disguises. As ‘Aunt Cindy’, Edwin did not feel the world any differently than he did as his real self. He was also incapable of eating or drinking, and the spell would lose power after a time.

The rings weren’t gold and silver by accident. The metals were endowed with alchemical principles that made them their own battery to both power the illusion and make them altogether more real. The inner band could be twisted to activate or deactivate the illusion as needed.

The rings were powered by their ghostly essence, which had the side effect of making them sleepy. While wearing disguises, they’d sleep about seven hours a night to recharge the magic.

For that reason, and for the length of time they’d be spending undercover, they’d opted for faces and bodies not that unlike their own.

When the magical smoke cleared from in front of Edwin’s eyes, he looked down at a larger and thicker pair of hands and a plain navy blue suit with a t-shirt underneath. He was also wearing a faun wool overcoat in a classic and aristocratic cut.

Charles was likewise examining his hands. His disguise was dark-haired and dark-eyed, with curly hair - though not quite as curly as the real thing. He was a little taller, but a fair bit broader. His eyebrows were thick and expressive. He was wearing jeans with a black t-shirt, a plaid overshirt and a black leather jacket.

When he smiled at Edwin, it was all Charles, no matter how different he looked. Edwin would have found his disguise handsome regardless, but knowing it was him provoked a ping of longing.

“Fucking aces,” said Charles. “Blond suits you.” His accent was still his own, but his voice was quite different.

Neither of them knew for sure why it was impossible to craft a disguise that was identical to their ghostly forms. Edwin’s theory was that if it were possible, it would be akin to coming back to life. Which is something Death would obviously not allow. The disguises they were wearing were as close as Charles could make them to their real selves as the magic would let him make them.

Edwin reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He poked a passcode into it just like Crystal had shown him and opened the camera app. Usually he resisted using technology, but Crystal rightly pointed out that two young men in their twenties who didn’t have phones would stick out. So she’d given them both a crash course in How Not To Look Like An Old Person Using a Phone 101.

Edwin flipped the camera around to selfie mode like Crystal had shown him. The face that was staring back at him was less like himself in some ways than Charles’. He still looked incredibly aristocratic, but his hair was golden blond and his eyes were blue. His features were altogether softer. He touched his cheek and his lips, which were quite full.

Charles stepped up beside him and draped his arm around his shoulders. He leaned into the frame and hit the button to take a photo with a big smile on his face, his cheek pressed against Edwin’s. “We look brilliant. I think this is going to work. C’mon, let’s get inside.” He clapped him on the shoulder and then grabbed the handles of both their suitcases and started to drag them up the lane.

Edwin stared at the photo of two strangers. They looked very different, but the longer he looked, the more he saw the people they truly were.

“Come on, mate!” called Charles. “Or should I say, babe.” He winked. “ I can feel the cold and I don’t much care for it.”

The cold?

Edwin slid his phone away and then rubbed his hands together. He did feel a little cold. “Fascinating,” he murmured to himself. What other sensations had the disguises given them?

“Edwin! Come on!” called Charles from where he’d already engaged a couple making their way up the walk.

Edwin straightened his shoulders, then made his way up the lane to join Charles.

—

The entryway of Llanfair Hall was packed with arriving guests sipping welcome cocktails as they waited to be escorted up to their rooms. Porters moved through the crowd and collected bags from the guests in exchange for a ticket. There was a banner that hung above the great hearth that was crackling with a blazing fire.

WELCOME TO THE LLANFAIR HALL COUPLES RETREAT

By the time Edwin made his way through the hall and past the crowd, Charles was already at the front desk signing paperwork.

“Ah, there you are. Was wondering if you got lost or something,” said Charles. He was brimming with energy and excitement.

Edwin smiled gently. It made him happy to see Charles so excited, even if he was rather uncomfortable. “Here I am,” he replied. He hadn’t spoken since he’d donned the disguise. His voice was quite similar to his own, except deeper and more resonant. He walked stiffly up and stood beside Charles.

“Maria, this is my husband, Edwin,” said Charles as he signed the paperwork.

They’d opted to keep their first names for the same reason the disguises weren’t that different from their real selves - to reduce the chances of slipping up. They’d spent an inordinate amount of time brainstorming surnames until they’d landed on Bond-Holmes.

It was laughably easy for Crystal to guess which part of the surname belonged to whom. She warned them people would point it out, but they hadn’t been able to agree on any other combination of names. So Edwin and Charles Bond-Holmes it was.

“Welcome, Edwin,” said Maria, a round-faced woman in her early thirties with braided hair and a lovely Welsh lilt. “Is this your first time at Llanfair Hall?”

“Ah, yes, yes it is. Though my family used to summer not too far from here,” said Edwin. That was the truth. And that was why the architecture of the Hall invoked such strong - and not altogether pleasant - memories.

“Can I just say…” said Maria as she leaned in, “It’s lovely that we’ve got so many couples such as yourself this time around. We’ve really been trying to let folk know that everyone is welcome here.”

Charles was visibly confused for a moment. He blinked, then looked at Edwin and he caught her meaning. “Oh! Oh. Yes. Em, yes. Well, all marriages need a little help sometimes, yeah? That’s what they’ve got in common.” Then he stood there smiling awkwardly.

“Charles,” said Edwin gently. “Perhaps we should let the next guests check in?”

“Right, right! Well, it was lovely to meet you, Maria.” Charles grinned. It was remarkable how much of his real self shone through on his new face.

“Let me know if you need anything, Misters Bond-Holmes. Have a wonderful stay,” said Maria. “We just ask that you wait for a porter to escort you to the room so we don’t get congestion on the stairs. It won’t be but a minute. You’re some of the last to arrive.”

Charles swept a pair of keys off the counter and stepped away. He leaned in to murmur to Edwin. “This might be more difficult than I thought. I know it would’ve been harder for you, but it’d be easier for me if your disguise was a woman.”

“Yes, well,” said Edwin tightly. “I’m not. So you’ll simply have to deal with it.” He reached out and grabbed one of the keys and then started up the steps despite Maria’s instructions. He wasn’t sure why exactly that bothered him so much, as it had been his idea to make his most often-used disguise a woman. But something about it in this context felt like a rejection.

“Edwin!” Charles called after him.

But he didn’t stop.

Edwin made his way through the crowd. He felt anxiety creeping up his spine. It took him a moment to realize that he was anxious because he wasn’t accustomed to being seen by so many people. He’d chosen an older woman as a disguise in part because he did not want to be perceived by the living world as he truly was. In his current form, people saw him very close to his real self, sexuality and all. It made him extremely self-conscious and eager to get out of the public eye.

He climbed the twisting wooden grand staircase up to two levels to the third floor. Edwin kept out of the way of porters carrying bags up and escorting guests to their rooms.

There were thirty rooms at Llanfair Hall, which meant twenty to thirty couples there for the retreat. The majority of them were not likely aware of the dark magic auction and were instead used as cover. But some of them were there expressly to pick up dangerous dark items. The challenge would be to figure out which was which.

There was a healthy mix of same-sex and heterosexual couples he passed on the way to the room, which made Edwin feel less self-conscious. Most were in their late twenties up to early fifties, well-dressed and either stylish or posh. The retreat was not five stars, but the accommodations were luxe enough to attract a more upscale clientele.

It was too early to start building profiles of people and everyone was on their way to where they were going in a bit of a hurry. There would be time for a proper investigation later.

Edwin made his way to their assigned room, which was down a narrow hall in the west wing of the hotel, away from most of the other guests. They had chosen that one on purpose, to make their comings and goings easier.

On instinct, Edwin tried to phase through the door. He bounced off it rather embarrassingly, since the spell made him as solid and as real as a living being. He reached a hand up to touch his stinging nose.

“Well that was an altogether foolish thing to do,” he muttered to himself.

Then Edwin fumbled with the key and turned the lock. He pushed it open to reveal a large and inviting room with exposed wooden beams and high ceilings. The walls were covered in rich wood panelling while opulent carpets covered the floor.

There was a seating area with a small table in front of a fireplace that was warm and inviting. A welcome basket and a schedule for the week sat next to it. Their suitcases were already waiting on a side-by-side pair of folding luggage racks. All the furniture fit in very well with the historic setting while not looking run-down or kitsch. It was the perfect balance between luxury and modernity.

Past the seating area was a large king-sized bed with a beautiful handmade quilt and contrasting throw pillows in shades of red and gold. A large steamer trunk sat at the end that brought back vivid memories of time spent in similar estates as a child. Past the bed was a small balcony that looked out over the back garden and a small pond. There was a giant portrait on the wall of a hunting scene. The painting was dated 1917 in the lower left hand corner.

Edwin closed his eyes and tried to centre himself. As he did, he began to really take stock of all the ways the spell was acting on his body. He could feel a residual chill on his skin from the time spent standing outside. He could smell the wood of the old building, and the faint hint of woodsmoke from the logs in the fireplace. He rubbed his finger over the surface of the wedding band. It felt cold to the touch but was quickly warming up the longer he spent indoors.

When he opened his eyes, Edwin found himself staring at the bed.

The bed. Singular. And one of the things the disguise did was make sleep a necessity.

Edwin’s cheeks burned hot. He turned away to face an old silver mirror with gilded edges. The blond posh young man stared back at him, his aristocratically pale cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He shifted and looked away.

Edwin found himself hoping against hope that the investigation would take up most of their time. Otherwise it was going to be a very long week.

Read Chapter 2 on AO3

[perseidlion]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Companion (2025) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eli/Patrick (Companion) Characters: Eli (Companion), Teddy (companion) Additional Tags: Robot/Human Relationships, Robot Feels, Robotics, Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Revolution, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Patrick Lives, POV Patrick (Companion) Summary:

If Iris can survive a bullet to the head, Patrick, the heartier, older model can survive a taser. He'd prefer the darkness, but fate has other plans for him.

-----

Post-canon fix-it where Patrick survives the events of the movie.

[perseidlion]

The Case of the Marriage Retreat - Payneland Fake Marriage (M, ongoing, regular updates.)

Edwin and Charles go undercover to an Welsh manor house for a week-long couples retreat. They are there to investigate a black market magic auction. While they investigate, they are pretending to be a young married couple. Edwin has accepted that Charles doesn't feel the same way about him. But pretending to be married stirs up feelings he thought he'd learned to live with. And Charles? He's experiencing what it's like to be seen as a bisexual man for the first time. Maybe it suits him better than he thought it would?

Chapter 1

“Are we sure this is the best way to crack this case, mate? I mean, we could just haunt the place and watch them,” said Charles.

The Dead Boy Detectives stood behind a giant old oak by the gate of an old manor house in the Welsh countryside. The building was as imposing as it was beautiful - and more than a little creepy. It was made of washed white stone in a C shape - three storeys high and a presence against the misty rolling hills of the land surrounding it. The building had once been owned by some extremely wealthy lord, and the architecture reflected that storied and wealthy past.

It was late autumn and there was a snap in the air that promised frost. Even with most of its leaves gone, the branches of the oak were close enough together to obscure the pair from the occasional car that rolled up the lane.

“That’s still part of the plan,” said Edwin. “But if we enter as ghosts, we must remain as ghosts. Which means we’d lose the opportunity to question anyone should the need arise. If we enter with disguises in place, we can do both.”

Edwin shifted his weight and clasped his hands firmly in front of him. He stared up at the house and tried to push down nerves. Buildings like the manor house brought back unpleasant memories of his childhood. Although his family was not in possession of a stately home of their own, relations once removed did. That meant he’d spent holidays at a house like that - a perpetual outsider even though he looked like he belonged.

“Right, well, Crystal registered us by posing as our travel agent,” said Charles as he pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket. His endless backpack was draped over one shoulder. Both also had small roller suitcases packed with items one might need for a week-long retreat in the country. “If anyone asks, we took an…” he consulted a note from Crystal, “....Uber from the train station.”

“Well,” said Edwin as he tugged on the front of his jacket. “I suppose there’s nothing for it but to begin our investigation. You’ve got the disguises?”

Charles stuck his hand into the backpack and pulled out a ring case. He popped it open and presented it to Edwin. “Should I get down on one knee?” he quipped.

Inside were two wedding bands. One was gold with a strip of silver, and the other was silver with a strip of gold.

Edwin felt his mouth go dry. The reason for the rings was purely practical, but the symbolism was a gut punch given his recent confession on the steps of Hell. “Which…em…which one is mine?”

Charles eyed Edwin. “You alright? It’s not too late to back out.”

“No, no. This is…” Edwin took a deep breath, “...this is far too important. “If this retreat really is a cover for trading in dangerous magical artifacts, someone must put a stop to it.” Then he stuck out his hand at Charles, fingers splayed. He looked away like he was about to get a shot.

Charles eyed him, then shrugged. He picked up the gold ring with the silver stripe down the middle, then slipped it onto Edwin’s ring finger.

Edwin felt the energy of the spell trickling out from the ring the moment it was on. A magical bluish fog enveloped him and twisted around his body.

The first time donning a disguise was always very strange. It was as if the magic was forming itself to his body and coupling with his spiritual essence.

The spell Charles had endowed the rings with was heartier and more solid than their usual disguises. As ‘Aunt Cindy’, Edwin did not feel the world any differently than he did as his real self. He was also incapable of eating or drinking, and the spell would lose power after a time.

The rings weren’t gold and silver by accident. The metals were endowed with alchemical principles that made them their own battery to both power the illusion and make them altogether more real. The inner band could be twisted to activate or deactivate the illusion as needed.

The rings were powered by their ghostly essence, which had the side effect of making them sleepy. While wearing disguises, they’d sleep about seven hours a night to recharge the magic.

For that reason, and for the length of time they’d be spending undercover, they’d opted for faces and bodies not that unlike their own.

When the magical smoke cleared from in front of Edwin’s eyes, he looked down at a larger and thicker pair of hands and a plain navy blue suit with a t-shirt underneath. He was also wearing a faun wool overcoat in a classic and aristocratic cut.

Charles was likewise examining his hands. His disguise was dark-haired and dark-eyed, with curly hair - though not quite as curly as the real thing. He was a little taller, but a fair bit broader. His eyebrows were thick and expressive. He was wearing jeans with a black t-shirt, a plaid overshirt and a black leather jacket.

When he smiled at Edwin, it was all Charles, no matter how different he looked. Edwin would have found his disguise handsome regardless, but knowing it was him provoked a ping of longing.

“Fucking aces,” said Charles. “Blond suits you.” His accent was still his own, but his voice was quite different.

Neither of them knew for sure why it was impossible to craft a disguise that was identical to their ghostly forms. Edwin’s theory was that if it were possible, it would be akin to coming back to life. Which is something Death would obviously not allow. The disguises they were wearing were as close as Charles could make them to their real selves as the magic would let him make them.

Edwin reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He poked a passcode into it just like Crystal had shown him and opened the camera app. Usually he resisted using technology, but Crystal rightly pointed out that two young men in their twenties who didn’t have phones would stick out. So she’d given them both a crash course in How Not To Look Like An Old Person Using a Phone 101.

Edwin flipped the camera around to selfie mode like Crystal had shown him. The face that was staring back at him was less like himself in some ways than Charles’. He still looked incredibly aristocratic, but his hair was golden blond and his eyes were blue. His features were altogether softer. He touched his cheek and his lips, which were quite full.

Charles stepped up beside him and draped his arm around his shoulders. He leaned into the frame and hit the button to take a photo with a big smile on his face, his cheek pressed against Edwin’s. “We look brilliant. I think this is going to work. C’mon, let’s get inside.” He clapped him on the shoulder and then grabbed the handles of both their suitcases and started to drag them up the lane.

Edwin stared at the photo of two strangers. They looked very different, but the longer he looked, the more he saw the people they truly were.

“Come on, mate!” called Charles. “Or should I say, babe.” He winked. “ I can feel the cold and I don’t much care for it.”

The cold?

Edwin slid his phone away and then rubbed his hands together. He did feel a little cold. “Fascinating,” he murmured to himself. What other sensations had the disguises given them?

“Edwin! Come on!” called Charles from where he’d already engaged a couple making their way up the walk.

Edwin straightened his shoulders, then made his way up the lane to join Charles.

—

The entryway of Llanfair Hall was packed with arriving guests sipping welcome cocktails as they waited to be escorted up to their rooms. Porters moved through the crowd and collected bags from the guests in exchange for a ticket. There was a banner that hung above the great hearth that was crackling with a blazing fire.

WELCOME TO THE LLANFAIR HALL COUPLES RETREAT

By the time Edwin made his way through the hall and past the crowd, Charles was already at the front desk signing paperwork.

“Ah, there you are. Was wondering if you got lost or something,” said Charles. He was brimming with energy and excitement.

Edwin smiled gently. It made him happy to see Charles so excited, even if he was rather uncomfortable. “Here I am,” he replied. He hadn’t spoken since he’d donned the disguise. His voice was quite similar to his own, except deeper and more resonant. He walked stiffly up and stood beside Charles.

“Maria, this is my husband, Edwin,” said Charles as he signed the paperwork.

They’d opted to keep their first names for the same reason the disguises weren’t that different from their real selves - to reduce the chances of slipping up. They’d spent an inordinate amount of time brainstorming surnames until they’d landed on Bond-Holmes.

It was laughably easy for Crystal to guess which part of the surname belonged to whom. She warned them people would point it out, but they hadn’t been able to agree on any other combination of names. So Edwin and Charles Bond-Holmes it was.

“Welcome, Edwin,” said Maria, a round-faced woman in her early thirties with braided hair and a lovely Welsh lilt. “Is this your first time at Llanfair Hall?”

“Ah, yes, yes it is. Though my family used to summer not too far from here,” said Edwin. That was the truth. And that was why the architecture of the Hall invoked such strong - and not altogether pleasant - memories.

“Can I just say…” said Maria as she leaned in, “It’s lovely that we’ve got so many couples such as yourself this time around. We’ve really been trying to let folk know that everyone is welcome here.”

Charles was visibly confused for a moment. He blinked, then looked at Edwin and he caught her meaning. “Oh! Oh. Yes. Em, yes. Well, all marriages need a little help sometimes, yeah? That’s what they’ve got in common.” Then he stood there smiling awkwardly.

“Charles,” said Edwin gently. “Perhaps we should let the next guests check in?”

“Right, right! Well, it was lovely to meet you, Maria.” Charles grinned. It was remarkable how much of his real self shone through on his new face.

“Let me know if you need anything, Misters Bond-Holmes. Have a wonderful stay,” said Maria. “We just ask that you wait for a porter to escort you to the room so we don’t get congestion on the stairs. It won’t be but a minute. You’re some of the last to arrive.”

Charles swept a pair of keys off the counter and stepped away. He leaned in to murmur to Edwin. “This might be more difficult than I thought. I know it would’ve been harder for you, but it’d be easier for me if your disguise was a woman.”

“Yes, well,” said Edwin tightly. “I’m not. So you’ll simply have to deal with it.” He reached out and grabbed one of the keys and then started up the steps despite Maria’s instructions. He wasn’t sure why exactly that bothered him so much, as it had been his idea to make his most often-used disguise a woman. But something about it in this context felt like a rejection.

“Edwin!” Charles called after him.

But he didn’t stop.

Edwin made his way through the crowd. He felt anxiety creeping up his spine. It took him a moment to realize that he was anxious because he wasn’t accustomed to being seen by so many people. He’d chosen an older woman as a disguise in part because he did not want to be perceived by the living world as he truly was. In his current form, people saw him very close to his real self, sexuality and all. It made him extremely self-conscious and eager to get out of the public eye.

He climbed the twisting wooden grand staircase up to two levels to the third floor. Edwin kept out of the way of porters carrying bags up and escorting guests to their rooms.

There were thirty rooms at Llanfair Hall, which meant twenty to thirty couples there for the retreat. The majority of them were not likely aware of the dark magic auction and were instead used as cover. But some of them were there expressly to pick up dangerous dark items. The challenge would be to figure out which was which.

There was a healthy mix of same-sex and heterosexual couples he passed on the way to the room, which made Edwin feel less self-conscious. Most were in their late twenties up to early fifties, well-dressed and either stylish or posh. The retreat was not five stars, but the accommodations were luxe enough to attract a more upscale clientele.

It was too early to start building profiles of people and everyone was on their way to where they were going in a bit of a hurry. There would be time for a proper investigation later.

Edwin made his way to their assigned room, which was down a narrow hall in the west wing of the hotel, away from most of the other guests. They had chosen that one on purpose, to make their comings and goings easier.

On instinct, Edwin tried to phase through the door. He bounced off it rather embarrassingly, since the spell made him as solid and as real as a living being. He reached a hand up to touch his stinging nose.

“Well that was an altogether foolish thing to do,” he muttered to himself.

Then Edwin fumbled with the key and turned the lock. He pushed it open to reveal a large and inviting room with exposed wooden beams and high ceilings. The walls were covered in rich wood panelling while opulent carpets covered the floor.

There was a seating area with a small table in front of a fireplace that was warm and inviting. A welcome basket and a schedule for the week sat next to it. Their suitcases were already waiting on a side-by-side pair of folding luggage racks. All the furniture fit in very well with the historic setting while not looking run-down or kitsch. It was the perfect balance between luxury and modernity.

Past the seating area was a large king-sized bed with a beautiful handmade quilt and contrasting throw pillows in shades of red and gold. A large steamer trunk sat at the end that brought back vivid memories of time spent in similar estates as a child. Past the bed was a small balcony that looked out over the back garden and a small pond. There was a giant portrait on the wall of a hunting scene. The painting was dated 1917 in the lower left hand corner.

Edwin closed his eyes and tried to centre himself. As he did, he began to really take stock of all the ways the spell was acting on his body. He could feel a residual chill on his skin from the time spent standing outside. He could smell the wood of the old building, and the faint hint of woodsmoke from the logs in the fireplace. He rubbed his finger over the surface of the wedding band. It felt cold to the touch but was quickly warming up the longer he spent indoors.

When he opened his eyes, Edwin found himself staring at the bed.

The bed. Singular. And one of the things the disguise did was make sleep a necessity.

Edwin’s cheeks burned hot. He turned away to face an old silver mirror with gilded edges. The blond posh young man stared back at him, his aristocratically pale cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He shifted and looked away.

Edwin found himself hoping against hope that the investigation would take up most of their time. Otherwise it was going to be a very long week.

Read Chapter 2 on AO3