#arden's prose

[ardentprose]

Candlelight Candor

A/N: This is the first public one shot I've written in a very long time so bear with me as I find my footing again.

Type: just sweet and simple fluff; Foggy Nelson x reader

Length: 4.8k~ | 20 min

Warnings: cursing; minor suggestive thoughts; fem!reader

Feel free to message me if a necessary warning isn't mentioned.

Summary: the worst storm of the decade, an unreliable old building, and being alone with your crush, Foggy Nelson

Hell hath no fury like a New York Nor’easter. It didn’t matter whether you had grown accustomed to the brutal winters in the city that never sleeps, because each summer lulled you into a false sense of serenity before winter struck again, the sky darkened, and ten inches of snow were threatening to bury the streets.

Any sane person would be hunkered down in their home, buried under an appropriate amount of blankets, and soundly sleeping away the precious hours gifted by the closing of the workplace.

Any sane person not in love, that is.

When you got the call that Karen was trapped north of the city, as the town she was investigating was hit with the storm first, you were tempted to hang up and go back to sleep. But how could you say no to:

“Good morning, sunshine!”

It took an embarrassingly small amount of convincing for Foggy Nelson to coax you from your haven and come to his law firm to lend an extra hand in the last day leading up to a case. The enigmatic lawyer had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it.

As you tugged on your heavy duty winter coat and forced your triple socked feet into your boots, you dearly wanted to curse the man for taking advantage of your infatuation. Of course, in his mind, he thought you were just a dedicated friend, and while that may be true, it would be more honest to say you were at his beck and call because you were in love with him.

Consequently, you find yourself hunched over a small desk in a small law firm with poor heating, hoping the feeling in your fingers returns.

And that was before the lights went out.

Precarious flames flicker among documents scattered across whatever surface area could be spared. Careful of the two candles flanking your papers - one cinnamon spice and another the supposed ‘scent of rain’ - you hunch lower and squint, trying to make connections between the paragraphs of legal precedents and other such jargon in the wavering light.

You don’t know how much longer you can strain your neck, scrounging every line of text for a loophole or mistype that will get this case thrown out. The ache in your neck grows insistent until you are forced to lift your head and roll your shoulders to appease the pain for a moment. Your eyes, sore from reading in dim light, fall on the lawyer across from you, taking in the welcome sight of him compared to dull printed texts.

Albeit, Foggy sits across from you in a similar position, muttering from down-turned lips as frustration pinches his expression. Occasionally, he heaves a sigh or grunt through clenched teeth as he hits another dead end. Even still, you allow yourself a small smile at how the orange flames cast warmth on his blond locks, causing them to shimmer like spun gold between the shadows.

A prick of alertness wakes you from your dreamy gaze and casting your eyes around you for the sixth sense of being watched, you find the other partner of the firm, Matt Murdock, smiling in your direction as if he could see you.

Your smile falls immediately, though the endeavor is fruitless as your remaining blush gives you away. Despite not having vision, you knew Matt caught you making heart eyes again at your ‘strictly professional legal friend’. It wasn’t the first time Matt sent you an impish smirk or raised his brows in question at your obvious pining. Especially when you laughed too loudly at Foggy’s quips. But what about it? You liked a sense of humor in a man and Foggy Nelson was a comedian in your enamored eyes.

The maddening thing was Matt doesn’t even pause his reading, skirting over lines of Braille with the same urgency as Foggy muttering out paragraphs of legalities.

You roll your eyes and Matt’s grin widens, but you choose to ignore him, checking your wrist watch for the time.

Your glance never makes it to your wrist, but diverges instead to the window when a sudden bang knocks the glass within it’s frame. The forceful wind rattles the glass with vengeance until it settles into an ominous vibrato. It wasn’t the first time that hour, but the three of you jump in your seats all the same.

“For Pete’s sake, this case better be able to fix that goddamn window.” Foggy curses, rubbing a palm over his heart from the abrupt break in silence.

“We have to win the case in the first place.” You lament, heaving a sigh to regain a normal heart rate.   

“We have less than an hour to find a reasonable cause to dismiss this case. But I’m pretty sure I’m reading algebra right now for all the good these candles are doing.”    Foggy groans, tussling his hair into a visible display of his perturbation. Your eyes follow the motion, happy to see something other than poorly lit paper stimulate your vision, though you sympathize with his annoyance.

“Justice never sleeps.” You quip and Foggy matches your wry smile.

“Of course the courthouse is open.” Foggy continues, flipping over another page. “Hell has frozen over but did the courthouse care? Did they reschedule? Of course not! Why indulge the safety of their tax-paying citizens when they could freeze them to death instead?”

“Whoa there, Foggy, is that the hangover talking or just you?” Matt teases, his fingers hesitating over some lines as conversation picks up.

“If anyone is hungover it’s you and your stupid smile that somehow thinks it’s appropriate to make an appearance right now.”

“I’m not the one who suggested shots last night.”

“I’m not the one who drank them all.”

“Hey, I’ve been quiet and well-behaved this entire time.”

“Guys…twenty minutes…” You interrupt, your own sense of justice dwindling by the hour.

You were more than accustomed to the bickering between the two law firm partners. Despite not being a lawyer yourself, your paralegal abilities were usually called into action since being acquainted with Nelson and Murdock over a previous case. You didn’t even work for them, yet you found yourself here more often than your own office. You also found yourself playing referee alongside legal assistance. At this point, you had helped Foggy and Matt win so many cases and stay friends while doing so, that you were an honorary member of the firm.

Foggy flips a page before him, chin resting on his fist. “I say we call the courthouse and tell them we were trapped inside. Couldn’t open the front door cause of all the…”

He squints.

His eyes go wide.

“Fuck! I found the damned thing!”

A groan of relief resounds from Matt and he throws himself back into his swivel chair, spinning to the side slightly. You break into a smile, watching the candlelight twinkle in Foggy’s eyes with his newfound ecstasy.

“Will it help win the case?” You ask, voice soft if only because of your overwhelming affection.

“This piece of evidence - or should I say lack thereof, will get this case thrown out into the nearest dumpster!” Foggy exclaims, meeting your eyes with his own mirth. Your smile grows larger at this revelation.

Matt tilts his head and once more you feel that devil grin, but you refuse to meet his invisible gaze. However, your up-tick in heart rate betrays your fear of a much bigger revelation being exposed by the brunet lawyer.

Matt seems to spare you from your fears, speaking instead of the case at hand.

“Foggy, I don’t know what we’d do without you. I don’t know how I missed such an obvious detail right in front of me.”

As he stands up, Matt compiles his own version of documents into his briefcase.

“What an oversight on my part.”

He grins expectantly.

You throw your head back and groan, then lift your head in order to glare at Matt.

“That’s the last one, Murdock! You’ve hit your ‘blind’ joke quota for today.”

Matt pouts, jerking on his winter pea coat.

“It’s my law firm, I can make as many jokes as I want. Who am I offending?”

“It’s our law firm, buddy.” Foggy comes to your defense. “And your jokes are in poor taste only because they’re not funny.”

“Hey,” Matt lifts the strap over his shoulder and slides out from behind his desk. “I’m funny.”

“Funny-looking.” You tease. Foggy snorts and points the tip of his pen at you in approval. You bite your lip to keep your grin from spreading into ‘infatuated’ lengths.

“Now, I can’t help that,” Matt gestures to the glasses in his hand before slipping them onto his nose, “given, you know, that I’m-“

“No more!” You point your finger at Matt in warning.

“Alright, jeez. Tough crowd.” Matt grins, still clearly proud of his sense of corny humor.

Before he makes his way to the door, he turns partway to explain his departure.

“I’ll head out first to meet the client early. It’s gonna be hell catching a cab in this storm. Plus the traffic will be worse…you get it.” Matt sighs and snatches his cane from where it rests beside the entryway. He lifts it as a form of dismissal.

“Good idea. I’ll revise our argument first then head over. It shouldn’t take more than a few quick amendments.” Foggy says.

Matt nods and turns to leave.

You turn back to clean up your work, but your head snaps up when you hear Matt fall against the door.

“Are you okay?” You blurt as Matt pushes himself upright on the door.

“I misjudged the space between myself and the door.” He chuckles. “Can’t see anything with the lights out.”

“Leave.”

You turn your back on Matt and his snickering.

“I don’t know how you put up with him.” You say once he’s gone and Foggy rolls his eyes in similar exasperation.

“I’ve learned to stop questioning my life choices when it comes to Matt.”

You laugh, humming in agreement. You lift your gaze to hand Foggy the collected papers across the desk and find his eyes already on you.

Before you can contemplate why his eyes take their time traveling down your face to your outstretched hand, the his easy smile lowers into contemplation once he accepts the papers. He licks his lips and begins scribbling down notes with fervor. Now that the essential information has been found, you’re left with nothing else to do but leave it in the capable hands of the brilliant lawyer before you.

Before you realize it, you’re in a candlelight-induced trance, watching Foggy’s eagle sharp gaze flit back and forth. A small, petty part of you wishes his eyes held the same concentration on you instead of the paperwork. You knew from experience how nice it was to have Foggy’s attention on you.

Meeting Foggy Nelson was like the sun breaking through the clouds after a rainstorm. He had come into your life with undeniable presence and charm, which mostly stemmed from how Foggy was unapologetically himself in all contexts. He didn’t put on the airs of the egotistical disposition that many lawyers were known to have.

That’s not to say he didn’t speak up whenever he found himself in an immoral situation,  but more often than not, Foggy reserved his speeches for retelling the repertoire of stories he loved to share with those who spared him an ear. You, always a listener at heart, and therefore his dedicated audience, were usually in hysterics by the end of his theatrics.

Foggy never just told a story. No, he incorporated gestures, voices and facial expressions that brought the characters - real or not - to life. Karen and Matt had heard every story ten times over, but being the newest addition to the friend group, you took in every detail as if there was going to be an exam.

It was his larger-than-life personality that drew you in, but it was his quiet observations that captivated you. Foggy never used his social prowess to embarrass others - Karen and Matt excluded - only ever making himself the butt of jokes. If he teased you, it was only to tease you out of your shell. His questions were genuine and his gaze, reading your body language and expressions, hung on to every answer you offered him.

The first real conversation you had with him, he asked you about your background.

“So what gods - sorry, Matt, God - above orchestrated for you to be doomed with us as friends?” He asked, curiosity making his sincerity clear.

You told him your abridged life story - including the small role you felt you played, despite it being your own life. Foggy’s smile had waned into a wrinkled line and when you finished he looked at you as if you had just admitted to being from another planet.

“You are the sweetest person I know, with a beautiful heart, and I don’t think you know it. But the rest of us sure do.” His eyes sought yours long enough to ensure you believed his sincerity, then he quickly moved on to throw a jibe at Matt,, and the conversation returned it’s levity. You, however, were left reeling from his compliment.

And absolutely in love.

Doomed, more like. You muse, halting the trip down memory lane before you fell down the well-trodden path of self-doubt and hatred. You have been around long enough to hear stories of the women Foggy had dated, slept with, or fantasized about being with. You didn’t think you made the cut. You had no reason to. Foggy was an extraordinary friend but that didn’t qualify you to wish he did more than friendly things to you.

You focus back in where your eyes had taken the opportunity to stare at Foggy fingering the edges of documents while twirling a pen in his other hand. He settles the pen between his soft, pink lips, tapping it before he bites the cap, completed focused on the phrasing of his task.

A hair falls between his eyes, causing him to wrinkle his nose into an unbearably cute expression.

You send the chair stumbling backwards when you stand, and that focused gaze flies to you.

“I…um..I am…What time is it? I think we should start to head over.” You attempt to clarify.

Foggy removes the writing utensil from his teeth as his eyes analyze your abrupt movement. You feel exposed the longer he stares and start to grow nervous he somehow could hear your wayward thoughts about the dexterity of his fingers.

“Yeah…good call.” Foggy clears his throat. He stands up to gather his things and you step forward to help him.

Handing him a file, his fingers brush the back of your knuckles and your eyes flutter in response.

Cheeks warm despite the cold, you turn from Foggy and set about blowing out all the candles until you’re both left in the dark.

You walk to the door and rest your hand on the doorknob. Turning your wrist, you pull the doorknob out the socket.

Wait.

What?

You glance down at your hand.

“What the hell?” A sense of dread fills you.

“What’s wrong?” Foggy asks, immediately reacting to your alarmed tone.

When you don’t respond, he navigates his way around the desk and chairs in the dark to come to your aid.

You turn back to the door and stare at the vacant hole with consternation until you feel Foggy’s chest brush your left shoulder.

“What happened?”

The weight of the doorknob feels condemning in your palm. Foggy leans down, squinting through the dark. His cheek is inches from yours, his height enshrouding you as he peers at your hands, and any other time your heart would be beating out of your chest.

Well, it was, but for the wrong reason.

“Oh.” He says. “Shit.”

“I have no idea!” You insist before he can even turn his grave expression on you and ask. “I guess the other side of it came loose and just fell off.”

“Well. That’s just fantastic.” Foggy hooks his index in the hole and tugs hard. The door jiggles with his attempts but holds fast.

“So we’re locked in our own office?” you conclude.

Foggy growls in frustration. He stalks back over to the desk, muttering curses to himself.

“Perfect. Just perfect. Of course…worst day of my life…”

Foggy pats his waist down, pulls out his phone, and then hits the first speed dial button.

“Hey, Matt.” He says sharply. “…Yeah, the fucking handle fell off the door.”   

Morose, you glance down at the knob still in your palm.

“No, I don’t- Y/N turned the knob and it just fell off!….Yeah, I already did that.”

Foggy sighs, hums in affirmation before his shoulders drop.

“You sure? Yeah…ugh…fine yeah, okay.”

Matt must have asked for the new evidence Foggy was supposed to bring, you assume, as Foggy proceeds to explain the needed information and confirm Matt understood it all.

“Good luck, buddy. Don’t lose.”

Foggy hangs up, ceasing his pacing. His hand runs through his now tangled locks then drops to his waist. He looks at you with resignation.

“Matt says he can handle the case by himself. It’s not a full blown hearing so…he’ll come back as soon as he can. The case has already started so he doesn’t have time to run back here.”

“Oh.” The prickling sensation of tears burns behind your eyes. The last thing you want is to ever be the cause of Foggy’s stress. Hell, you spend most of your time trying to be as valuable to him as possible.

Foggy searches around him until he finds matches. He lights the nearest candle and then sits down behind his desk.

He frowns once he sees you haven’t moved from your tense stance near the entrance.

“Hey.”

Your eyes flit to his face and find Foggy smiling at you with his recognizable optimism. The kind of smile that feels like he’s sharing a secret joke with you. He drags your previous chair around the desk, beside his.

“C’mere and sit back down. We have at least three hours before Matt returns.”

You hum in assent, still clutching the doorknob as you make your way over.

Coming around the desk, Foggy’s hand darts out, shielding your hip from the sharp corner when you almost don’t clear it.

You jump at his fingers against your waist. Foggy jerks back just as quickly, his grimace apparent.

“Sorry! I didn’t want you to run into it. That corner in particular bruises like a bitch.”

You laugh, hoping the airy chuckle doesn’t betray how his fingertips ignited a reaction far from displeased within you.

“I appreciate it. And I assume you’re speaking from experience?” You sit down. Your knee brushes his, tingling with proximity. You’ve never had a reason to sit so close to Foggy before, even in the booths at bars, and without the light, you sense more than see his presence within your personal space.

Foggy snorts. “Yeah, of course. Matt does it all the time.”

“Oh, so you have practice holding his waist too?” You don’t know where this brazen energy arises from, but you blame it on the intimacy of being secluded in the office with Foggy and your only light source being a small flame that smells of cinnamon.

Foggy’s lips split before curving into a smirk. He narrows his eyes.

“Are you accusing me of making a grab at you?”

You shake your head frantically.    “No! Sorry, that was stupid. I-“

Foggy laughs, waving your apology away.

“I would hope you think more highly of me to at least buy you dinner first.” He reasons, pursing his mouth into an easy smile.

You bite your lip, eyes widening at the suggestion. Was he serious? Or were you letting your feelings cloud an obvious joke?

“Of course I think highly of you, Foggy.” You say, settling into the chair. You set the doorknob on the desk. Your brow furrows as it reminds you of how Foggy was trapped here with you instead of at the courthouse winning the case he’s worked so hard on.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Seriously, don’t feel bad about the door. This whole shitty place is falling apart.” Foggy gestures vaguely around him. Foggy must have mistaken your silence as guilt. He’s correct in assuming so, but why did he have to read you so damn well?

“No, I know…I just feel bad for you because you deserve to be in that courtroom.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it. Matt’s got it handled. I’m sure they prefer the handsome lawyer down there anyways. Case will go in our favor that way.” He chuckles.

“Handsome?” You frown, not getting the punchline.

His eyes flicker over your face as if to gage how serious you are being.

Foggy shrugs. “Out of the two of us, Matt’s the better lawyer, both in the legal department and looks department.” His half-hearted laugh fails to win you over.

“That isn’t- that’s not true.” You stumble over your words, because it would be foolish to deny the attention the brunet lawyer garners on a consistent basis. However, you weren’t about to accept Matt’s good looks at the cost of denying Foggy’s attractive features either.

Foggy snorts. He shakes his head, hair brushing his shoulders as he does so and you’re overcome with an intense need to make him realize just how important he is to everyone. To you.

“Foggy, you’re incredible to watch in action.”

Foggy’s frown is near comical with his exaggerated pout. You lean in, determined to convince him.

“Foggy, you’re a hell of a good lawyer, too. If Matt is so talented then he wouldn’t partner with someone who wasn’t on his level. The two of you have your own firm. Matt’s not your boss. He’s your equal. That goes for the ‘looks’ department as well. You’re an attractive, generous, compassionate lawyer and it’s a privilege to work with you.”

Foggy’s expression is unreadable as he listens to you rant. His eyes search your face, flitting back and forth with thoughts known only to him. His brow falters slightly and you fear he’s uncomfortable with your impromptu speech.

But eventually, that full mouth of his turns upwards.

Unfortunately, the smile he wears accompanies a glimmer in his eye that makes you lean back into your own chair.

Foggy follows you, invading your breathing space with the heady scent of his aftershave and a hint of shampoo akin to vanilla.   

“What other traits do I possess?”

All at once you realize how revealing your compliments are. Blooming crimson, you attempt a verbal retreat that Foggy has no intention of allowing.

“Oh, um…I didn’t-I just mean…”

“C’mon, tell me! Attorney client privilege.” Foggy winks, his grin upheld and only growing bolder as he rests his cheek on his fist, full attention on you now.

Well, you did wish for that.

“Technically, to be your client I would need to pay you first.” You throw out, if only to prolong the inevitable corner of confession he was backing you into.

“Aha! So you do learn a thing or two around this office. I’ll only charge you five bucks.” Foggy retorts easily enough.

“I don’t have money on me, but since you’ve been known to accept fruit baskets, would you accept other forms of payment?”

“What do you have in mind?” Foggy’s grin is downright devious.

Your eyes widen as you effectively have backed yourself into the corner you were trying to avoid.

A nervous laugh bubbles from your racing heart as you shake your head, waving your hand too for good measure.

“Nothing! I’m kidding, Foggy.”

“Blood money? Was it blood money?”

“No?…No, it was a stupid joke.”

“Tell me.” Foggy sits up, his demeanor becoming serious.

“Please?” He whispers.

You chew on your lower lip, trying to swallow down the thundering of your heart as silence permeates the dimly lit atmosphere between you two.

Maybe it’s the influence of the warm fire painting Foggy’s gaze in such a soft, accepting light, as if he already knows what you’re thinking - or is even feeling it too. Maybe it’s the months of holding back the truth from someone you would tell anything to in a heartbeat. Maybe it’s the hope that ultimately outweighs the anxiety that causes you to admit it.

No longer do the candles, blizzard, or darkness feel like a hindrance. Now they feel intimate, cozy, and warm.

Romantic.

“I was gonna say…something super corny like, “just my undying affection.” You feel like an idiot, grimacing with the confession.

Your eyes dare to check Foggy’s expression, knowing he’s probably gonna reel back in aversion.

Instead, Foggy scoffs, shaking his head slightly. “You’re affection? Jeez, now that’s nowhere near corny.” He purses his lips and his hair brushes his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Earning your attention, let alone your affection - damn, I would win a hundred cases for you, guaranteed!”

You want to blame the playful words as an excuse to ignore the sincerity in his tone, but your body reacts before you can, heart leaping with a thrill of joy and your lips begging for more.

“Guaranteed?”

“Nothing drives a man like his unwavering passion for the woman he adores.”

You must look crazed, in the throes of shock as your brain tries to process the meaning behind his words. Foggy adores you? Really?

Your mouth continues to take the lead.

“You mean that?”

Foggy lifts his hand in the distance between you, which is scarce, and hesitates a second before placing his warm hand atop both your hands picking at each other’s fingertips. The weight of his palm and the comfort of his grip squeezes your fretting hands still. You release a soft exhale.

“Y/n, I’ve never been more serious.    I’ve adored every detail of yours since you graced my office.”

You don’t know what to say, so you nod.

You keep nodding until it dawns that your feelings are reciprocated, perhaps more than you dared hope for.

And then you’re smiling, beaming, and still nodding, as Foggy brings the hand up from your grasp and cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb over in a silent hello before he presses his lips to your mouth.

You press in, feeling him wholly as mint overwhelms your senses. Your lips move with his, chin lifting as you chase his mouth and he meets you once more, applying pressure before he withdraws, and releases your bottom lip from his teeth.

You can’t see much in the dark anyways, but right now you can’t see a thing. Only spots that accompany the ringing in your ears. You might be light-headed too.

Your dazed silence breaks when Foggy’s whisper begins to escalate.

“Before I have a heart attack…tell me I didn’t screw this up. If I read it wrong and you were just joking-“

“No, no! It’s just…I can’t believe you like me back.” Your laugh is a soft exhale before a sharp intake of breath.

“This isn’t some ‘lights go out and we’re vulnerable in the dark confession.” Foggy says as he cups your face once more.

“I mean every word I say in the dark.” He kisses you again and you welcome his eager affection before he pulls back. You open your eyes just in time for the lights flicker on with a stumbling hum as the building regains power.

“And the light.” Foggy tacks on to his previous statement.

You snort, biting your lip in vain to stop your giddy smile.

“That was pretty fucking cool timing if you ask me.” He says, the same elated grin on his flushed visage.

“That was, I’ll admit.” You laugh. You run your tongue across your lips, savoring the taste of his kiss.

“I wish someone could have witnessed it.” Foggy continues to rave, basking in your growing smile of amusement.

“I did.”

Matt stands in the doorway with a wicked grin.

“Missing something?” He asks. Your eyes flit down to his hand.

The other side of the doorknob.

Matt waltzes over to the desk, grabs the doorknob, then returns to the entry and slides it back into place.

Your frown deepens when he unpockets a screw. Within ten seconds the door is fixed with a good rattle to test it out.

“Lucky thing the case got canceled. You guys would have been stuck in this room all night.” Matt says, passing you both on his way to his office. Presumably to start the next caseload.

Foggy breaks first, swiveling in his chair to jab a finger at Matt’s retreating back.

“You bastard!”

Matt spins around once he’s behind the door of his office. He gives ample time to leave his smirk on display as he closes the door in a slow, dramatic fashion until it clicks with finality.

And with it, a realization of his strange behavior today.

You gasp.

Matt never left the building.

#foggy nelson #foggy nelson fluff #foggy nelson x reader #foggy nelson x you #foggy nelson x y/n #foggy nelson daredevil #foggy nelson fic #foggy nelson one shot #arden's prose

[ardenskyedarcy221b]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CT-7567 | Rex Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Linear Narrative, prose, Timeline What Timeline, The Dark Side of the Force (Star Wars), War, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Mild Language, Not Beta Read, Sorry Not Sorry Summary:

Anakin knows fury well.

On the other side of the battlefield is Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And yet this fury is unlike his own: for his burns bright, flames licking at the skyline and shimmering in its totality. Over quickly, but damaged every thing precious in sight. All-consuming. Destructive. Hideously beautiful. This fury? It is freezing like his lungs may stiffen into ice; a containment Anakin cannot recognize more than knowing he lacks control with his own experiences.

And Obi-Wan blazes across the horizon in a flurry of blues and whites, incensed and incandescent. 

#my work #fanfic #ao3 #obikin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #prose #alternate universe #basically this is Anakin Skywalker seeing the Force through an array of colors #yep #thats how the force works for the chosen one #lmao #arden spews

[the-final-sentence]

‘Let’s eat,’ she said.

Katherine Arden, from Empty Smiles

#lit #prose #submission #Empty Smiles #Katherine Arden

[lightflame]

Tagged by @bagadew (Also tagging in @waermeflasche because you tagged me weeks ago and I didn't get back to you)

Last song I listened to: Soap by The Oh Hellos. I burn CDs and listen to them in my car. (The first few I tried to give themes and titles, and select the perfect song orders, but ended up kind of bad and the other was cursed and wouldn't play even though I remade it three times, so I just switched to throwing a ton of songs together on "Random Mixes" and enjoying.) I was listening to my very first random mix on the drive home from work and this one came up. It's a pretty snazzy song. I think Theseus and Hello, My Old Heart are my favourites from the band.

Last book I read: Can I do a couple? I just recently finished Play of Shadows by Sebastien de Castell. It's the first book of Court of Shadows, the sequel series to his Greatcoats series. Greatcoats is one of my favourite series, filled with swashbuckling action, clever humour, and an absolutely miserable protagonist, Falcio val Mond, who always manages to get back up and keep going anyway. I read everything de Castell writes, and after a string of books with severe pacing problems (check out The Malevolent Seven for a book that doesn't have a second act) and other problems (I have a hard time seeing any book topping Crucible of Chaos as the worst book I've read this year), he finally seems to be back. The book didn't pack quite the emotional punch of some of his other books, but it definitely made me want to jump up and cheer for the heroes at the end.

The other book I just finished is The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden. I liked her Winternight Trilogy (look it up and be prepared for some absolutely gorgeous covers, with prose to match), so I was excited to see something new from her. This book was about World War I, with some fantasy elements used for magic realism. (Portraying a soldier's struggle with addiction and PTSD through the lens of him losing his soul to the devil was a brilliant idea.) I most subsist on a steady diet of fantasy books, but this one had me hungering to read a few more historical books. I might have to pick up some books about the Halifax Explosion.

Last film I watched: I haven't watched much on my own for a while, but my friends do a movie night every Sunday. The last two times I tuned in, we watched Jesus Christ Superstar and Pokemon 3: Spell of the Unown. They were both fairly cute movies. I liked Judas's actor.

Last TV series I watched: I've been making my way through The Office for the first time. I'm on Season 3 and this happened to me, actually. There was some stuff I was like, "Wow, that was funny. I should tell my coworkers about it," but then I realized that I can't be the guy who tells his coworkers about this funny new show called The Office.

Last video game I played: If visual novels count, Umineko. I've been working my way through it slowly for about five and a half years and I'm finally closing in on the end. It's peak fiction and the greatest love story of the twentieth century. It's also funny I picked a game this insanely long for my first visual novel. Other than visual novels, I just finished Pokemon Legends: Arceus, after putting in 104 hours this year. Completing the Dex is my favourite part of any Pokemon game, so having it be more involved and include a big checklist made the game basically crack for me. I've also been casually playing some Star Wars: Battlefront II (2005) with my brother. Every time we play it, I'm always amazed by how good it is and how much content it has. I want to take command posts forever.

Last thing I googled: "Dandadan Aira". I just started the manga the other day and I like her best, so I wanted to double check her full name, I think? Other than that I'm mostly looking up when books are available at my local stores. I've been religiously checking when The Book that Broke the World will be available and I'm not even sure if I'm buying it.

Last thing I ate: A few snacks from my snack drawer. I also had a Quaker yogurt bar at work. I bought a big box of them last year, but I had to throw them out because of the Salmonella. (Chewed through a lot of them before that came out, though, including eating three on an airplane.)

Amount of sleep: Supposedly seven hours, since I went to bed right after finishing The Warm Hands of Ghosts last night. The only problem is that if I get to bed at a good time, I sleep fitfully, so I'm either sleeping poorly or sleeping well, but not getting anywhere near enough sleep.

Currently reading: I started Empire of Silence, the first book of The Sun Eater by Christopher Ruocchio, at work today. I've had the first three books sitting on my shelf for a year or two and I finally got around to starting it. (I'd resolved to do both this series and Kushiel's Legacy this year, after having both for so long, and I got that one done at the start.) I'm not very far in, but I enjoy the writing style a lot, even if a lot of the worldbuilding is obviously cribbed from Dune. (Whoa, look, mentats.) I've heard it picks up a lot in the second book, so I'm excited for what's in store for me.

Passing this on, I'll tag @somerunner @lyssq @soulsinshadow @lunawithsocks and @dancerladyaqua. (They also have currently watching and sweet, salty, or savoury as questions, which I didn't do.)

[thechanelmuse]

My Book Review

The Bear and the Nightingale is a darkly enchanting, pastoral, atmospheric first book in the Winternight trilogy that’s a nod to the classic Russian fairytale, Vasilisa the Beautiful, and steeped in Russian folklore. Katherine Arden, the author, weaves these elements into a lyrical prose told in third person omniscient that doesn’t feel like it was written in this century. How the hell is this a debut novel? 🤔 

Everything about this book is sensory, making it the perfect winter read. It’s filled with complex characters surrounding our gifted protagonist, Vasilisa "Vasya" Petrovna, who lives in a magical forest with her family. She is possessed with the gene of second sight and the ability to communicate with mystical creatures and house spirits as she navigates in a world of fear, sacrifice, parallels, politics, and dichotomies (life and death, good and evil, gender roles and the freedom of it, paganism and Christianity, order and chaos). 

I am so tempted to read it again because I enjoyed it that much. But I’ll hold off for now because I also want to see how this story and world progresses.

#katherine arden #the bear and the nightingale #thechanelmuse reviews #book reviews #yet another book that's been chilling on my shelf #but finally read

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: Current Location: A Couples Resort somewhere in Wicked's Rest Feat: @mortemoppetere & @eldritchaccident Warnings: Medical Blood Tw (brief brief mention in a prose way), Unsanitary tw (section marked) Summary: While undercover on a mission, Teddy and Emilio have to “pretend” to be a “couple” 

---

“So what’s my character?” 

After an uncharacteristic bout of silence on the way to the secret upscale resort somewhere in Wicked's Rest, Teddy finally spoke up. They’d spent most of the drive from World’s End Isle staring out the window of the passenger side of their own car. Emilio insisted on driving, and the sight of the detective all cleaned up and in a nice almost-tux driving a goddamn goldenrod yellow Volkswagen beetle was more than their carefully constructed mask could handle. 

The man looked… 

Well he looked very good. 

Very. 

Very. 

Very very.

Very very very very.

V. e. r. y. 

VERY good. 

Teddy felt like a blushing schoolgirl, trying not to look at her crush. Their cheeks flushed with heat, their heart fluttered like a giddy butterfly. When the man first came out of his room after Teddy had shoved him in with the choices of clothes, well, they didn’t expect him to come out like he was in a goddamn dream. Teds clammed up and gave the world’s worst compliment then shut up until they finally figured a good way to slip back into conversation super duper casually. 

“Like, are we a new couple, have we been together forever? Am I your darling partner? Your side piece? What’s my name?” 

—

It was a stupid idea. Emilio knew that. Undercover work wasn’t exactly something he was built for to begin with — he didn’t have the patience or the temperament for it. He always ended up speaking without thinking, saying something he didn’t mean to say. 

Case in point: when his current missing persons case had stalled at some ‘couples only’ resort in town because he was one person and not a pair, he’d made the bold claim that he had a partner. It had worked in his favor… for about a day. He was allowed in the resort, but not for long enough to gain anything of value. And when he mentioned a desire to come back later that week? He’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that he wouldn’t be granted entry unless his partner was with him. 

So, that was mistake number one. Speaking without thought, digging himself a hole without a rope to pull himself out of it. Classic Cortez slip, but not entirely unmanageable. No, the bad part, the big problem… that came with mistake number two.

He should have asked Jade. Or Xó, or Arden, or just about anyone else on the goddamn planet. Asking your roommate, who you had stupid, useless feelings for, to be your fake partner at a couples’ resort was a bad idea even when you weren’t trying to get rid of said feelings for everyone’s own good. But when you were? And when your stupid roommate was incapable of not dressing for the occasion in a way that made it just about impossible to keep your stupid eyes on the stupid road? 

Emilio didn’t think bigger mistakes existed.

He was gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. He knew that. It was creaking a little, uncomfortable under the force of his enhanced strength. He’d been half hoping that Teddy would just be quiet the entire drive, make things easier on him, but he knew Teddy well enough to know it was a far-fetched hope even before the ex-demon started speaking. 

Glancing over out of the corner of his eye and ignoring the way his mouth went dry at the sight of them all done up, Emilio shrugged. “I wear a wedding ring,” he replied, “so we’re married. Had it on when I was here before, so easier to go with it. I, uh — Hold on.” He removed one hand from the wheel, digging in the pocket of his jeans for a moment before producing a silvery blue band. He held it towards Teddy, keeping his eyes locked on the road. “Friend at the pawn shop owed me one. Think it should fit you, I don’t know. It’s not silver or gold, but not the cheap shit that’ll make your skin itch or anything. And you only have to wear it while we’re here. Or we come up with a story why you don’t wear one, if you don’t want to wear it. Or… whatever.” He shrugged, dropping the ring in their palm and pretending his chest didn’t ache. 

His hand lingered for a moment before returning to the wheel, white-knuckle grip returning. “Do you want a fake name? I was just going to call you Teddy. Easier that way. Or I use a nickname, if you don’t want them knowing your real name? Cariño, corazón, amor. What do you like?”

—

“Ahh, a Mx Teddy Cortez then? Well in that case, I do.” The words eked out through a shaggy pink haired bobble, playfully smiling over at the driver before Teddy could actually register them. Had they realized the gravitas of the words said while donning a wedding ring, it surely wouldn’t have come out like a half-sung melody. Wouldn’t have carried the weight of ‘I would’. Or maybe it would have. Had the ex-demon realized at all, they would have gotten choked up with the lump that chased the phrase into Ted’s throat, not allowing any clarification or follow up. 

Well… back to the window.

The ring felt heavy on their hand. Cool to the touch but burning all the same. When had he gone out and got this? How did he know their size? He said he didn't know, but the thing slipped on like it was made for them. That old inconsolable flicker of hope rose up in their chest, banging against their rib cage as Teddy recalled the way Jade had assured them that Emilio did care and it wasn't just– ah but it was though, wasn't it? Friendship. Just and only, friendship. 

Emilio was an incredible detective, had probably done shit like this a thousand times. He probably knew it would be easy to fake a relationship when half the team had a big dumb obvious crush on the other. That way Teddy could keep their cover, and Emilio could get some work done. It was smart. He was smart in a way Teds wished everyone could see. Em deserved some fucking recognition from time to time. It pissed them off. Royally. The kind of anger that made them want to find a necromancer just to bring back Mama Cortez and shove it in her righteous face. 

The thought was a little easier to sit with than the ring. They fiddled with it, rubbing the smooth metal this way and that. Twisting it around their finger. Trying actively to push down any giddy sparks it tried to rile. It was just an object. A simple loop of a mystery metal. It shouldn't have had the power to render them into a muddled mess that couldn’t even look his way without their heart raging out a ruckus. There was a riot going on in Teddy’s chest, and this was only adding fuel to the fire.

But Emilio asked a question, and they had to answer. The silence could only stretch so long. They were bound to get to the resort soon enough. “Y’know–” They croaked, then coughed to cover it. “Whatever’s most comfortable, right? Gotta sell it.”   

—

“Unless you want me to take your last name,” Emilio replied dryly. He thought of the mechanic at the body shop he’d investigated, the one with the haunted car. He’d given her Jones as a last name, largely because it was the first one to pop into his head. He half wondered if he ought to start building it up as an alias, but… well. There were certain implications that came with that, weren’t there? Implications Teddy definitely wouldn’t miss. Emilio’s grip on the steering wheel threatened to tighten; he had to remind himself not to let it. If he broke Teddy’s steering wheel, they’d probably notice and realize that something was up. He couldn’t risk them picking up on the way his heart stuttered in his chest when they said I do like it was a simple thing. Nothing about this was simple. He doubted it ever would be.

Still, Teddy was uncharacteristically quiet as Emilio drove, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they’d picked up on something in spite of his best efforts. Maybe they knew about the feelings swirling in his chest. Xóchitl’s message might have given him away just a little, might have revealed more than he’d hoped for. Or maybe Teddy knew everything long before then, the way they’d known about Flora without Emilio ever saying the words. They were observant, after all, when they wanted to be. They’d make a good detective. In situations like this one, it didn’t feel much like a good thing.

He saw them out of the corner of his eye fiddling with the ring. His thumb went absently to the one on his finger, pressing against the metal the way it tended to do when he was nervous or anxious or uneasy. It was the kind of thing that happened more and more often these days, especially after all the shit with Lucio. He didn’t think he’d ever shake the intensified paranoia that had come with his uncle’s return.

It fit, at least. He’d made a guess on their ring size, but… He knew their hands pretty well. He knew what they felt like in his own, knew their weight. He was good at sizing things. Juliana made a joke about it once, but he couldn’t remember the punchline now. The thought of her pulled his eyes back to the road, away from Teddy. He’d torn enough things to shreds already. He didn’t want to add more to the goddamn list.

“Right,” he agreed. He wanted to say querido — he’d used it with Teddy before, after all, so it did feel natural — but it felt more telling than he wanted. It felt like a confession he wasn’t sure he wanted to make, so he said nothing for a moment, stared out the windshield. “Mi amor,” he decided. It was more formal than what he’d normally go with. It felt less real as a result. That was a good thing, he thought. He was probably going to need the reminder. 

The resort stretched out in front of them, and he pulled into a parking spot near the door. “Got the ring on?” He was already getting out of the car as he asked it, circling around to Teddy’s side. When they stepped out, he reached down and took their hand, intertwining their fingers together. “This okay? Need to sell it. They think… uh… I told them we were recién casado, so maybe a lot of touching, if it’s okay. But only if it’s okay. If it’s not, we don’t. Okay?”

—

Teddy’s lips unceremoniously parted, a half-balked shuddered exhale of held breath that fogged up the window in front of them. “Mr. Emilio Jones then.” That time, the words had barely any inflection. For fear of letting the man see the way Ted’s heart conducted the rest of their body. Accelerando! Forte! The ex-demon could imagine the little impish bastard waving around its bloody baton. Bidding their lungs to contract with every breath, their stomach to churn and guts to practically knit themselves into a sign that even fucking aliens could read from outerspace. Shouting to the stars that this game of pretend was too much to bear. 

Twirling the ring wasn’t enough to curb the energy inside. Mindless fingers moved, began to drum along the dashboard. An aimless beat that echoed the symphony inside. Da-ta da-dah, da-ta da-dah. Repeat, repeat. Increasing tempo until he spoke again. Offering another trial for their all too human heart. 

The demon could have survived this. The demon wouldn’t have had to worry about the actual physical effects of being so close, and yet so fucking far away. Teddy wasn’t so sure the human would. They highly doubted this was among the wounds Levi's gift could salve by siphoning off to someone else. 

“Lots of touching, mmn?” Too interested. Too piqued. Almost squeaky. Another cough. “Ah– don’t know how I’m gonna manage that one Cortez, all your knives everywhere, I might get stabbed.” A bit too much in the opposite direction, and yet somehow still sounding as desperate as a sailor on shore leave. 

As if Teddy didn’t like the slight danger that came with Emilio’s hidden arsenal. As if they didn’t know where each one was. As if they weren’t keenly aware of each blade as much as they were keenly aware of just about every inch of the slayer's body. (Nearly all, but not quite.) The subtle bumps and lumps, each detracting from the smooth silhouette, even under the rough leather jacket he normally always wore Teddy could see them as if they weren’t hidden behind layers of fabric. 

Even now, even in the almost-complete suit (though Emilio insisted on his jeans, and honestly Teds wasn’t in a place to argue considering how nice even just the top half all cleaned up was) there were plenty of hidden weapons. With a slip of their finger they could unlodge two or three at a time. 

The idea of playing hopscotch along the man’s skin to avoid those quick releases? Well that had the ex-demon reeling in its own way. Still, they’d do anything for him. They knew that. And maybe, just maybe, tonight that meant acting like they wanted to, instead of how they were supposed to. 

“Well, I guess I can manage it.” It was the after that would break them. “How far away are we now? Gotta be getting close.” 

—

Was that their way of politely declining physical contact? Emilio didn’t want Teddy to feel any kind of obligation here. It was enough that they were helping him out, he didn’t want to make them uncomfortable. In fact, that was just about the last thing he wanted to do. He watched the ex-demon carefully out of the corner of his eye, trying to assure himself that if they were uncomfortable, they’d say so. He wasn’t sure he believed it. Teddy had a tendency to sacrifice their own comfort the moment it meant helping someone else out. All Emilio could do was hope they understood that they didn’t need to do that with him, that he didn’t want things that way. 

He sighed, shifting in his seat a little. “Well, if you cut yourself on one of my knives, we’ll be touching, anyway. Is instant karma, right?” A faint smile, a teasing lilt, and something underneath it that he felt but couldn’t say. There was a lot of that lately. Every interaction since that cabin felt like a minefield, a dance that Emilio wasn’t particularly good at. He’d never had feelings for someone that he hid before. With Juliana, he’d put things out in the open pretty quickly because there’d been no reason not to. She’d been a pretty hunter from a good family, and he’d known his mother would approve, known that loving her would be seen as something done right. 

Of course, there was no one to seek approval from now. Teddy wouldn’t have earned it from Elena Cortez, for a lot of reasons, but they’d hardly be the most disappointing aspect of Emilio’s life in Wicked’s Rest to her. She’d be angry about most of Emilio’s new life. He knew that. He wished he didn’t, sometimes, wished he could pretend that she’d be happy that he was okay, but… The things Lucio told him still weighed heavy on his mind. The truth usually did that.

“We’re here,” Emilio said. “Just follow my lead, okay?” He squeezed their hand, then guided them in the door and to the front desk. The smile he forced onto his face felt unnatural, and he wondered if Teddy could feel his pounding pulse through their connected hands. Could he sell it as being nervous about the case? He wasn’t sure they’d buy it. He’d never been nervous about a case before, after all, and they knew it. He tried to calm his heartbeat, but it was easier said than done.

There was a woman behind the front desk. Young, maybe in her mid-twenties, but the buzz on the back of Emilio’s neck told him that she could very well be much older. He tensed a little, trying not to let it show. The woman behind the front desk was undead, but that wasn’t unexpected. He schooled his features.

“How can I help you?” Her smile was sharp as she glanced between them.

“My partner and I have una reservación. I was here alone a few days ago, and they were feeling a little left out. Right, mi amor?” He nudged Teddy a little. They were better at acting than he was; if he wasn’t able to convince, Teddy certainly would be.

—

Emilio’s words sparked an avalanche of laughter. Starting at first with just a few breathy huffs of air until Teddy’s face was all wrinkled up in a display of pure joy they hadn’t felt since before that damn cabin. Since before the night before they almost died. Since before they realized something had changed and started pretending they didn’t have those deep all consuming feelings for the man. Extending well beyond the fascination of the start. The obsession that pissed Emilio off and made Teddy all the more enticed. All this time they’d been holding themself back, trying so hard to just seem like a good roommate, a decent friend, trying to be respectful, they had forgotten the damn reasons why Emilio was their friend in the first place. 

The joke disarmed them. Caught them off guard. Struck them as far funnier than perhaps it actually was. But the absurdity of the whole situation played a big part in the rolling giggle that even got a slight snort out of them. Of course he had a retort and of course the ‘instant karma’ wasn’t something that Teddy would ever want, but the slayer would always offer. The man had a way of throwing himself on the fire so no one else would ever have to face the flames. Always calling himself a knife when he was more often than not a shield. A blanket. A coat. A hand to lift you up even when it could barely hold itself out of the forge. 

It was Teddy’s turn to give back. 

To be whatever the detective needed. And right now, it was a date. Newly married, infatuated, touchy feely, and happy. They could do that. Could do it half asleep. But they were wide awake now, ready to stop pining and whining about an unrequited lie, and enjoy the company of their deceptively charming, overly caring, funny, wonderful, best, friend. 

With their hands intertwined, Teddy could take on the world. 

The rest was easy. Ted followed suit with every gesture, every whim they had in the past. Playing up the doting partner role very well. “Oh that’s an understatement, zoi mou.” Pet names, they could keep up with that. Hard to remember not to slip in the word they'd used before, but Teds was a linguist after all. A thousand watt smile brightened up the ex-demon’s face, eyes sparkling as they looked upon Emilio’s face with an (only slightly) over exaggerated adoration. Their attention turned to the pretty little thing behind the counter for a moment though, flashing them a wink and a more suggestive smile. “He was telling me all about your amazing amenities, and I got a little jealous. You know?” 

Their lips then found Emilio’s shoulder, laying a quick peck to the fabric there before resting their chin atop, practically draping the rest of themself over him in a swaying side-hug. “What can we expect tonight? Hope there’s dancing.”  

—

Teddy laughed, and it was like the sound of it chased all the tension from the small space of the car. Like there was no room for anything but the breathless sound of their hysteria, the way they were cracking up at a joke that no one else would have found half as funny. It was impossible for Emilio not to smile, not to roll his eyes and shove at their shoulder a little to entice them into settling down before they went inside. His pulse was still pounding, his heart still beating harder than it should have been, but he felt a little more at ease now.

There was no reason to be nervous; Teddy was just as good at this as Emilio suspected they would be. They flashed a smile, they batted their eyes, they called him a name in a language he didn’t understand that made his heart pick up its pace anyway. They were good at selling it. The way they were looking at him now was so convincing, it almost had him fooled. The woman behind the counter didn’t stand a chance, and it was clear that she’d fallen for the scam by the way her face lit up at the sight of Teddy draped around him. 

“Oh,” she cooed, “aren’t the two of you just adorable? Newlyweds, right? I peeked at the file.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Emilio confirmed, looking over at Teddy with a small smile that wasn’t as fake as he wished it were. “Known each other a while. Friends first, but… Hard not to fall for someone like this.” There was too much truth to the statement, too much honesty in the soft expression that skirted across his face. He tore his eyes away, looking back to the woman. “I, uh — I talked to the person on the phone about the deluxe package, I think.” 

This was going to be an odd expense report, but he’d discussed it with the client and they understood the need for it. In order to understand the disappearances, he needed to understand what had led up to them. The best way to find a destination was to go on the journey that led you there, after all.

“Well, lucky for you,” the woman smiled again, looking at Teddy, “the deluxe package does include dancing. But it starts with a spa treatment. Follow me, I’ll lead you to the room!” She took off down the hall, and Emilio moved to follow, Teddy’s hand still tucked away in his. They had to sell the cover, after all.

—

“A spa treatment?” Teddy’s voice rose with an excited inflection while they looked over to Emilio, silently asking if he knew. Their hand wiggled in his, fingers tapping along his knuckles instead of verbally making a joke at the detective’s expense. Or, his clients, apparently. Ted was no stranger to a day of relaxing, of course. Self care (in the most common sense of the term, all pampering, no big emotional talks, obviously) was pretty big in the Jones household. Like lizards basking in the sun, it was just part of their nature. 

Emilio on the other hand? 

Somehow, someway, Theodore Jones came to the logical conclusion that perhaps, just maybe, it was conceivable that Emilio Cortez had never even been to a spa before. “Oh that’s just what we need.” They cooed. Only a little dripping with a sarcasm that was likely to be missed by anyone who didn’t really know the ex-demon. “My hubby here works so hard every day. I keep tellin’ him we need to take some time off. He even worked on our honeymoon, didn’t you love?” 

Okay, so, maybe this was teetering a teensy bit into the teasing category. But hey, that’s how Teds showed their affection, and it wasn’t that uncommon amongst people their age. Plus, it was nice. Getting to sorta… speak their own private language right in front of others. Like with the movie code in the terrible excuse for a torture chamber. 

— 

Emilio knew Teddy well enough to know that their excitement here wasn’t entirely feigned. They were probably delighted at the idea of Emilio having to sit still long enough for a spa treatment, and the detective couldn’t help but huff a little laugh. He had no plans to actually endure the spa treatment, but Teddy would find that out later. For now, he’d let them have their little joke. He gave their hand a squeeze as if to silently reprimand them for it, though it was clear he wasn’t actually annoyed as he followed the woman down the hall.

“And I keep telling them that work doesn’t get done if no one’s doing it,” he added with a roll of his eyes. “Someone has to keep things moving.” It wasn’t really far off from legitimate arguments they’d had in the past; Emilio did a lot of hunting, insisted that it was necessary, that it was his duty to someday die in the line of fire while Teddy argued that it wasn’t, that he was allowed to treat himself with grace sometimes as if he was a thing that deserved that. It felt so much simpler when rearranged to be a pair of newlyweds talking about work.

“Well, no one’s going to be working in here,” the woman teased, opening the door to a treatment room and leading them both inside. “You two get situated. Someone will be back here in fifteen minutes or so.” She put a hand to the side of her face, as if whispering conspiratorially. “A lot of people do this part naked.” With a wink, she ducked out of the room.

The moment the door closed, Emilio was crossing the room to the other side, inspecting the second door. “Come on,” he said, waving Teddy over. “Think this one leads out to the employee area. That’s where we want to do our snooping.” 

—

“And here I was just about to launch into an explanation of the amazing work you did while we were visiting Mykonos. It was a really good story, you know.” Teddy grinned, far too pleased with the sudden twist to be at all bummed about not seeing Emilio’s… bum. Probably for the better anyway. Much too easy to… get into character with those kinds of distractions. 

“Are you sure it’s better for both of us to go?” They had crossed the room, but their attention lingered on the door opposite. With no one here, what if someone came back early? What if they found an empty room with no explanations? What if they opened the door and on the other side an employee was right there? Then again, there were a few good excuses Teddy could think of as to why they’d gone off. “Wait a sec, before we go.” 

The ex-demon pulled their jacket off and unbuttoned their shirt a bit before going over and starting to remove Emilio’s as well. One of their hands found the back of the man’s head, rustling his hair as they worked their palm up from the base of his neck to the very top of his crown. 

Fucking hells. They were close again. Too close. Teddy only realized what they were doing, what the implications were after a beat. Somehow. Despite being the instigator. (At first their mind just went to undressing for the bit. For the massage.) But there was something more to that, wasn’t there? With a hand on the back of his head, images of a passionate kiss flitted through their mind. Their mouth dried at the thought. Wasn’t anyone to put a show on for here, wasn’t something they could do. 

“Can’t– Can’t look like we didn’t try to listen to their rules. Obviously we got… a bit too excited and went to find somewhere private… newlyweds and all.” 

— 

“I’m sure it was,” Emilio replied in a tone full of dry amusement. “But we’re not here to tell stories or get treatments, are we?” They were here to do a job. He had to remind himself of that. They were here to do a job, and anything either of them said or did in the interest of completing that job wasn’t something he ought to read into too much. 

He was already starting on the lock on the door as Teddy spoke, the lockpick kit slipping from his pocket and into his hand as he made quick work of it. It was a cheap lock; for all the illegal activity he suspected went on here, no one was overly concerned with keeping people away. He figured the staff assumed that people wouldn’t think to look. After all, they weren’t exactly pulling in naturally distrustful people, and there was nothing outwardly sketchy about the business model. “I don’t want to split up. We don’t know where people are…”

He trailed off as Teddy came close, faltering a little. Their hands were unbuttoning his shirt, moving in his hair. Emilio’s mouth felt dry, eyes blinking as they darted down to Teddy’s chest, exposed thanks to their own unbuttoned shirt. It was only when they spoke that he understood what they were doing. If they got caught, they could pretend they’d started to undress as instructed, only to grow distracted enough to find the need to sneak off to…

Emilio cleared his throat. “Good thinking,” he said with a nod, pushing the door open. “Probably wouldn’t be the first. Uh, we should…” He trailed off again, ducking off into the hall and grabbing Teddy’s hand to pull them along. It wasn’t necessary without an audience and he knew it, but he could make up an excuse if he had to. He was good at that. “This way,” he mumbled, taking off down the hall. “Look for doors on the other side of the wall. Those won’t go to treatment rooms, I think.”

—

Composure. Calm. Laser like focus. These were things that no one had ever accused Teddy of being particularly adept with. Observant, sure. But only because their eyes never stopped wandering. That observancy caught the cough, the uncomfortable shift, but the air head behind the detection assumed it was because they had done something wrong. That they'd stepped a bit too far without asking first. They'd like to say it was for time, that they didn't know when the employees would be back. Simple. Obvious. Teddy didn't have time to stop and explain before they started unbuttoning the slayer's shirt. But they knew it was that other thing. He probably knew it too. The impulsive whirl that dragged the ex-demon along by their heart. 

The same heart that leapt to the most insidious of emotions, hope, when the detective grabbed their hand again. Pulling them through the door, clearly trying his best to make sure their cover was safe if someone else was just beyond the threshold. Thorough, Cortez. The thought swam amongst the million fantasies, grounding Teddy to the reality that this was a job. It was a job. It was a job.

A few of the doors only led to closets. Plenty of towels, lotions, and massage tools, not a whole lot of missing couples. The pair worked well together, taking on the space in tandem. Making quick work of every possible hiding spot, crossing them off the list then heading to the next one. “So far, so good.” It hushed out of Teddy's mouth in  Spanish. A pretty dangerous thing to say, as it were. Dramatic irony had a way of rearing its ugly head wherever someone dare speak its favored phrase. 

Footsteps. As if on cue.

Teddy caught the subtle click of one of the doors farther behind them and grabbed Emilio by the shoulder, whisking him around and through the closest door to the right. Another closet, probably, only it was slightly bigger than the others. Good. Better to hide in. Less towels. Less light, too. Teddy couldn't even see what was actually in the room. The other non-closets had windows, but Ted couldn't tell if this one was too small for them, or if they were somehow blacked out. They were only barely able to make out the shape of Emilio, who they had pulled in close… again. Their breath stopped. They'd blame it on the fear of being caught, but hells knew it wasn't that. They were chest to chest, their arm still coiled around his. Teddy could feel his jaw resting against their cheek. 

They were pretty sure their heart stopped too. 

Completely frozen. Well. Except for their one free hand. Feeling for anything along the wall that would explain something about the room. Literally anything to get their mind somewhere safer. Somewhere where the flood of unwanted feelings wouldn't crowd out logic, wouldn't stop them from thinking. This was a job. It was a job. It was a goddamn job. 

A conversation was happening outside, whoever had walked into the hallway was evidently chatting with someone else, and while Teddy couldn't quite hear every word, there was something about the bosses, and something else about ‘special candidates’. Didn't sound… particularly spa related. But it offered a nice distraction until Ted found something solid. But that only offered another mystery. Smooth wood. Some kind of metal handle. It almost felt like an oddly ornate refrigerator, but that hardly made sense at all. Hopefully the slayer's senses would give them some more clarity as the talking outside persisted. 

—

Of course the second Teddy said things were running more smoothly, someone would come along to challenge that. It was like some unspoken rule of the world that applied especially thoroughly to Emilio’s life — things never stayed good for long. It wasn’t Teddy’s fault, of course. They probably weren’t familiar with the universe’s hobby of shitting on Emilio Cortez. None of the irritation he felt was directed towards the ex-demon, even as they pulled him into the nearest door to avoid being caught. But when that door shut between the two of them and the hallway, when Emilio found himself closed into a small, dark space…

His heart was pounding in his chest, his mouth dry for reasons that, this time, had nothing to do with Teddy’s proximity. The fact that his senses were screaming about the presence of nearby undead didn’t help. If anything, it made the situation all the worse. Emilio was six years old, was shoved into a tiny shed with a hungry ghoul, was sitting with his kneed to his chest for hours or days or weeks just waiting for someone to come let him out. There were voices outside getting closer, there was something smooth against his hand. 

He turned to look at it, sharp eyes cutting through the darkness with ease. Smooth, shiny, tall. A casket? Were it not for the panic of the claustrophobia tightening its hands around his throat, he would have figured it out sooner. As it was, he realized what sort of room they were in just a heartbeat before those voices got closer, just a moment before there was a hand on the doorknob outside. Emilio’s eyes found Teddy’s, wide and uncertain. “I’m sorry about this,” he mumbled. “You can punch me later, if you want.”

It was the only warning he had time to give before he was pulling them in closer, shifting the angle and twisting around to press their back against the coffin and press his lips against theirs. He kissed them hungrily, desperately, one hand in their hair and the other twisting in the fabric of their shirt. He pushed himself against them, pinning them in place and letting out a small sound from the back of his throat. 

He didn’t know how much of it was an act. He didn’t know if any of it was.

Behind him, the door to the room opened, bathing them in light.

—

The line between fantasy and reality shattered in a second. There was no time for shock, there was barely any time at all. It could have been just a blink, it could have been hours. Emilio was kissing them. Electric shivers ran down from the point of contact. Emilio was kissing them. Setting Teddy’s skin ablaze with goosebumps. Emilio was kissing them. Their chest rose to meet his and in an instant he was pinning them against the smooth surface behind them. Emilio was kissing them. A yelp of surprise and sudden elation rose from their throat. Emilio was kissing them.

Fuck.

The only place for their legs to go was between and around his, their arms acted on their own. One frantically, desperately searching for the bottom of Emilio's shirt. Tearing, not tugging, at the fabric. Not wanting anything at all between them. The other, roughly cupping his face as they returned the kiss in kind. 

Their fingers hungrily pressed into whatever skin they could find, almost like they were trying to somehow bring him closer, keep him there. Anchored. Smooth cheeks ran into rough stubble, the skin on his lower back was warm and already damp with sweat. Teddy's was likely the same. Their left hand found his hip, and with their thumb pressing into the front of the bone and the rest of their fingers curled behind, they pulled him in closer, closer, closer. 

They were starving, and he was a feast.

There was no space for thought. There was nothing rational about this. Teddy was lost to the sensation, to the dream. When it faded, when they woke, doubt would worm its way through each and every memory. Tainting the scene with something far less glorious. Something imperfect. This wasn't– for him, it wasn't anything. 

But it consumed Teddy. 

Everything, just everything this whole year had been leading to. A haggard climax of obsession and passion, untethered. Their head tilted, leaned into his hand, into his lips. There was a faint whimper at the back of their throat, entirely unintentional as they struggled for breath but were completely unwilling to let go. Even when the door opened, even when the voices came. Muffled and blurred, Teddy couldn't hear them. Not over the sound of their own heart beat. Not over the blood pumping through their ears, through their hands struggling and shaking, through… other things that Emilio would surely have felt. Teddy paid no mind to the strangers until a hand reached in to separate them. 

They almost growled at it. 

—

Somehow, the kiss felt both neverending and far too brief. Emilio practically melted into Teddy, desperate to feel their hands on him as he pressed against them as much as he possibly could. Their fingers touched the bare skin of his back as they found their way under his shirt, tearing at the fabric there. He heard something rip, but he couldn’t figure out if it was Teddy’s clothing or his own. He wasn’t really sure how much it mattered.

Teddy was as good at this as they had been at the display at the front desk. Their hands explored Emilio’s body with the same ease as the pet name slipped between their lips to fool the woman who’d checked them in, and he wondered if he ought to come up with some excuse as to why he was so convincing. Wouldn’t Teddy wonder? Emilio wasn’t much of an actor, after all. Undercover work wasn’t something he did often, and when he tried it it was always clunky and uncomfortable. But there was nothing forced about this, and wouldn’t Teddy be suspicious about that? Wouldn’t they figure it all out? 

He didn’t have long to spiral. There were other hands on him now, hands that didn’t belong to Teddy. They were cold, they made his skin crawl. That sensation on the back of his neck, the one he’d listened to all his life when he needed to know if something undead was near, was screaming at him now. He’d somehow forgotten about it during the kiss, like it wasn’t there at all. Those hands yanked him away from Teddy, and he let himself be pulled up for air, positive that he looked just like he was supposed to look to sell this lie — flushed, desperate, disappointed. He was panting a little, and it wasn’t feigned. None of it was. 

A man looked between the two of them with wide eyes. “What are you two doing in here?”

“What do you think?” Emilio replied, glancing back to Teddy. “We were getting undressed for our spa treatment, but… We wanted to find someplace we wouldn’t be, ah… Disturbed. We thought…” He looked around, let his eyes widen at the sight of the coffin as if this was the first he was seeing of it. “Whoa, what is this room?”

The man followed his gaze before scrambling to yank the pair of them out of the small room and into the hall. The door to the room slammed shut, closing the casket away. “Come with me,” the man ordered, grabbing Emilio by the shoulder any forcing him forward. “Both of you. I’m taking you to meet Roland.”

Finally. Someone with authority would know more, and they wouldn’t be suspecting anything if pressed. Emilio shot a glance back to Teddy.

—

This was not a sweet release. It was violent despite how little hurt they intended by separating the pair. Teddy was left breathless, shuddering, hands still clinging to the slayer like he was the only thing keeping them attached to the earth. He had to notice. He had to have known this was more than just acting. That something in Teddy burned for him. In the past they had compared him to the sun, if that was still true, they wanted nothing more than to be his moon. An eternal dance, round and round through the cosmos. Reflecting the light back so that he might see how he makes others shine. How he makes the people around him better. 

This was where their acting faltered. When you were caught, you were supposed to be embarrassed. Right? You were supposed to be something other than desperate for more. Maybe. Teddy wasn’t exactly sure. Never been caught in the back of a couples club that had a fucking casket in a breakroom before. They’d never really been one to shy away from shit, either. They’d been caught making out with plenty of folks during their teen years. One on each continent at least. 

(The Arctics were the hardest, but a surprising number of supernatural families make their homes that far away from human civilizations, and a young demon with a distaste for the cold and an endless need for fun found just that. A way to be warm, and entertained.) Still, for the life of them they couldn’t remember the emotions you were supposed to have in that moment of shock.

Instead they just stood there, dumbstruck. Like Emilio had sucked the very last brain cell from their noggin, like they weren’t hearing the employees at all. Didn’t care that they were being carted off to meet some… Roland. Whoever that was. A decidedly un-sexy name. Roland. Ugh. Couldn’t the staff just have waited a second more before breaking it up? 

Teddy’s tongue poked out and ran along their lips, savoring whatever taste was left. Wasn’t likely to happen again, and the giddy adrenaline was starting to sour, to shift back into focus as a fleeting thing. Remembering what was at stake, remembering why it had happened. The sparks around their heads were one sided. The way their heart jumped was a solo dance. One Teddy might remember for the rest of their damn life. 

One they wished he’d do again. 

“Sooo–” Their throat was hoarse, froggy. Couldn’t quite make out the word without croaking at least once. “Does this mean no dancing, or..?” 

— 

It was a good thing. It was a good thing that they’d been broken apart, that they were being led to a conversation with someone who might be useful. Emilio repeated this to himself like a mantra, trying to make himself believe it, but it was difficult. As much as he’d hated the tight space of the ‘break room,’ he missed the feeling of Teddy’s lips against his, of their hands on his bare skin. And he hated himself a little for missing it, for not remembering the importance of maintaining a safe distance. All a knife was good for was slicing, and hadn’t Teddy bled enough already? 

He snorted as Teddy spoke, an involuntary thing. The man gripping his shoulder shot a glare between the two of them, though it looked more like the kind of expression a nonhunter parent might give two misbehaving teenagers than it did something a criminal might give someone who’d learned too much. That probably meant their cover hadn’t yet been blown. “We’ll leave that for Roland to decide.”

He marched them down the hallway to a heavy wooden door, the warning bells of nearby undead never leaving Emilio’s head. At the door, the man knocked three times before opening it, revealing an office with a large desk and a man behind it. The man looked decidedly unamused, elbows resting on the table with his chin settled atop his clasped hands. “Leave us,” he said in a deep rumble. The man who’d led Emilio and Teddy to the room nodded and fluttered away. It was only when the door shut behind him that Emilio noticed the presence of another person in the corner. Their eyes stayed locked on the man he assumed was Roland, even with the presence of two strangers in the room. Emilio took note of it.

“My staff tells me the two of you have a hard time… keeping your hands to yourself,” Roland commented, pushing himself from his chair. He crossed the room, and Emilio tried to keep himself from tensing too noticeably even as the paranoia began to claw at his chest. “You’re not in any trouble. In fact, I think it makes you good candidates for… the next level of package we offer here.”

“Oh, the package we got was pretty pricey,” Emilio piped up. “I’m not sure we could afford the next level.”

“It’s complementary,” Roland assured him, reaching out to grip the slayer’s face in his hand. He tilted Emilio’s head to the side, inspecting him for… something. Emilio couldn’t pretend to know what, but he knew he didn’t like it. Still… he was familiar enough with this sort of thing to remain stock-still and let it happen, even as discomfort raged like an animal in his gut.

—

Everything past the door was all a bit culty. Not the same as the folks back at Moosehead or whatever Wynne's hometown was called. More…….. MLM style cult. Modern. What Teddy didn't understand was how someone named Roland of all things could possibly be a charismatic central figure. Roland. Ugh. Ted realized as they entered the room at the end of the long twisting hallway that they might always hold a grudge against that name now. Didn't even matter if they were the CEO of missing couples or not. There would always be just a mountain of ick. 

All the while, Teddy was glad for the hand holding theirs. If they hadn't been gripeing about the terribly named boss, and pining over the loss of another chance to…act… Teddy might have actually found some time to be scared. It was still such a foreign thing, fear. They had grown up being the apex of apex predators. Their father had literally outlived every species on earth, and they were a part of it. The Leviathan's ward, who was meant to spend forever with it. Why would it teach them fear? 

No, that emotion usually only came knocking for other people. But Emilio could hold his own in any fight, they'd seen it. They loved watching it. Still, there was something making the man tense in a way that Teddy didn't think had anything at all to do with getting caught, or being angry that someone would name their child Roland. A different kind of instinct, one they had seen only once or twice. The first of which was meeting Rhonda’s wife. Because she was undead. 

Teddy may have been in a bit of a foggy blissful haze, but even they saw the caskets. Didn't take much to put two and two together. Vampires. Great. 

Roland was already on Ted's nerves before they got to the remote room, but once he started to speak it got a little harder to play the woeful partner who just wanted a bit more time with their new husband. The man was looking at Emilio like he was a meal. It was hard to tear their eyes away, harder to keep the spiking rage quelled underneath their mask. “Hey!” Still, there was a limit to what normal people would let happen too. Teddy reminded themself that jealousy was something many young couples fought with. “Why are you touching my husband like that?!” There was a petulance to their performance, like a toddler angry that someone else had the toy they wanted. It was meant to provoke ire, and it did. 

Roland (ugh) shot a calculating glare over at Teddy. Something that had all the components of a smile gracing those hungry lips. “Why don't you go take a seat over there, Mr…?” The vampire grinned, waiting for his answer. It was clear the strange man wanted Teddy to be scared. And they played the part perfectly. Wide eyed, scrambling, sputtering words of protest before Roland (gross) insisted and Ted complied. Not without showing Emilio that this was a good thing though. The desk (where the boss man had just motioned for them to sit at) had some documents scattered about. Some of them were even open. Didn't particularly look country club related. They tapped their foot twice against the side of Emilio's before cowering over to the other chair. Still begging for the man to just let them go. 

—

As much as he disliked the way Roland was gripping his jaw, Emilio found he hated the man turning his sights on Teddy just a little more. He let out a quiet hum as Teddy spoke up, something he hoped the ex-demon would understand to mean that it was fine, that this was the plan. He still played the part of the nervous husband, of course, of a man worried that he’d gone a little too far in his quest to enjoy his new marriage in a public space. He didn’t think Roland — or the other figure in the room — suspected anything, but he also wasn’t sure that this would save them from whatever it was that was building here. None of the missing couples who’d disappeared within these walls were hunters, as far as he knew. It hadn’t stopped them from vanishing. 

Teddy moved to follow Roland’s instructions and, instinctively, Emilio tried to follow. Stumbling feet started towards the desk only to be stopped short by the tight grip on his jaw growing tighter and a leg moving out to block his path. “Not you,” Roland hummed. “I think we need to put a little bit of space between you and your partner. You both seem to have a hard time paying attention when the other is near, don’t you? I can’t say I don’t relate. My love and I are the same.” He looked up to the figure across the room, who slipped out from the shadows. 

She was tall. Taller than Emilio, and taller than Roland, too. The heels clicking on the tile seemed to offer a reason as to why, though Emilio suspected she’d still be towering without them. They crossed over to meet Roland — and, by extension, Emilio — where he stood, and the two leaned in to one another for a quick peck on the lips. Emilio’s eyes darted to Teddy in the chair, to the documents spread out on the desk in front of them. Right. There had to be something useful there. Emilio just needed to make sure Teddy had time to find it.

(And it was better, he thought, that Teddy was the one looking. Emilio wasn’t a very strong reader; it often took him hours to comprehend a single document, especially if it was written in English.)

Letting his eyes settle on Roland and his partner, Emilio shifted his weight and did his best to look uncomfortable. With the ever-present sensation of the undead hand gripping his jaw, it wasn’t particularly hard. “You mentioned… a level up on our package. For free. What exactly does this include? I think we’ll need to know before we decide if we want it.”

—

“But the decision has already been made, love.” The woman spoke up, a strange accent clinging to her words. A bit unplaceable. Maybe Eastern European? Teddy wasn't sure. “You already got our attention with your passion. Cannot squander such a rare gem. Don't you think so, darling? We just wish to see if it will last.” Mrs. Roland wasn't shedding any of the culty allegations with that kind of talk. What did she think this was? Some late night thriller? 

Now wasn't the time for critiquing someone's villain monologue. 

Teddy would have plenty of time to make fun of these assholes when they were safe, sound, and not being propositioned for something awful. Then again, looks weren't everything. Teddy of all people should know that, when they met Emilio, they looked about as bad and cheesy as Mr. and Mrs. Teeth over there. Maybe they were just about to tell them they liked their vibe and wanted to know if Emilio and Teddy wanted to swing. 

If only his name wasn't Roland. 

The documents on the table started painting a much different story though. Quiet as a rat, Teddy scanned through them. Didn't take long to find some of the names they were looking for. There were columns. Like the vampires had been studying the couples. Like they'd been experimenting with something. Teddy wasn't quite sure what until they found the first “success” listing. One Mrs. and Mrs. Patel, two women barely in their thirties. The first was listed as Nina, marked under the resisted category for a full week. The other, Masha, listed as unbroken. Until they were both put into the turned category. 

Fucking hell, what were they doing here? 

Seeing the documents wasn't enough. They couldn't quite parse the story completely on their own. But it didn't take much to understand that whatever it was they had planned was vile. While the pair of (decidedly not swinger) vampires (though… turning others didn't necessarily rule that out, just sort of added a much more complicated and fucked up layer and power dynamic to it that was even more gross.) appraised Emilio, Teddy's eyes ran over the table and they started silently grabbing everything they could. Shoving it in their pockets for later use. Thankfully, the pockets were deep. One part excellent tailoring, another, much more important part, enchanted thanks to one of Teddy's owed favors. Thank you, Magical Michael. Big enough to hide papers in, and pull a whole wooden stake out of. 

Eyes were still on Emilio, good. But Teddy was by no means a hunter. They'd only get one shot at one of them. Hopefully Em would give enough of a distraction that they could get close. And the dusting of one would give the slayer plentiful opportunity to get the other. 

—

He was careful not to look directly at Teddy. He didn’t want to draw any attention to the way they were rifling through the material on the desk, didn’t want to give them away even if it meant standing stiller than he’d like and closer to the pair of vampires than he was comfortable with. Nothing about what Roland or his partner was saying felt right. Nothing about it was doing anything for the knot in Emilio’s stomach or the paranoia itching for a release. He reminded himself, again, that this was what they were here for. That they’d needed to get the attention of the people in charge in order to figure out what, exactly, they were in charge of. It wasn’t doing much for his discomfort, but Teddy looked to be making some progress, in any case.

“I don’t see it going away any time soon,” Emilio replied, unable to keep his eyes from sliding to Teddy as he said it. Thankfully, the vampires didn’t seem to have any interest in following his gaze. They expected him to look to his ‘partner’ in moments like this, after all; their ‘passion’ was what had landed them here. “I feel the way I feel about them now. I’ll feel it tomorrow, too. Every day after, I think, until they put me in the ground. And maybe then, too.” It was truer than he’d care to admit. 

When Emilio latched on to someone, he never really let go. Juliana’s name was still carved into his heart, even years after she was gone. He’d still kill for Rhett, even on the days when it felt like his brother hated him. The way Teddy’s hand had felt in his had sent his heart into an overdrive he doubted would ever fully leave him. Love, for Emilio, was something that only ever existed in the present tense. It didn’t fade, didn’t go anywhere even if the object of it was gone. Even if it wasn’t returned. 

He forced his eyes back to Roland, who was smiling with too many teeth. Like a shark, like a bear, like something that was just looking for the best place to take a bite. “I really think you mean that,” he said earnestly, looking to his partner. “You have honest eyes. I can feel your dedication. Do you think they feel the same?”

As he said it, his partner shot across the room towards Teddy. It looked like they’d finished up at the desk, at least, though Emilio hadn’t seen what all they’d accomplished. He saw the stake in their hand, but he didn’t think either of the vampires did; they were both far too busy with other things. “Do you think they love you enough to resist making a meal of you?” Roland hummed, turning to position himself so that he was looking at Teddy and his partner while maintaining his grip on Emilio. “It would be a challenge. You look like quite the tasty little morsel, you know. All rugged and hardened. I find it’s people like you whose blood sings the most. I’m having a hard time not having a taste myself, and I’ve been at this a while. But them… How long do you think they’ll be able to hold themself back?” 

Roland’s partner moved towards Teddy, eyes red and fangs at the ready. Emilio tried again to dart forward, but the position he was held in made it difficult. Roland tightened his grip, the hand not holding Emilio’s jaw in place moving to wrap around Emilio’s throat instead. Not enough pressure to cut off airflow, but if he thrashed the way he wanted to, that would clearly change. “Just watch,” Roland said in his ear. “This is the easy part.”

—

“Fuck you.” Teddy practically screamed at them, the vitriol burning acidic in their mouth. Neither vampire seemed to notice the missing papers, or the fact that their stance left everything in their right hand squarely out of view. “I don't know what the hell is going on here–” they lied, “but I– I'd never hurt him, How fucking dare you.” then told the truth. Their stomach was in actual knots. That wasn't pretend. Emilio’s speech had brought back a wave of that insidious hope then dashed it across the razor shoals. It was acting, it was still just acting. Playing the part until the right moment. “He's the best thing that ever happened to me. He makes me better. I'm– I'm lost without him–” They continued. Somehow unable to stop the truth tumbling out. “Just let us go. Please.” 

“Ah, well, you better be good at holding back then. If you are, then you'll get a treat, isn't that right Angela?” Roland stood behind Emilio, looking fondly over at his partner, still stalking Teddy like this wasn't a twenty by fifteen room at most. 

Every goddamn thing out of the vampires’ mouths had a perfect retort, only Teddy couldn't sling them without giving themself away. No, they still had to act terrified. That's what a human would be in this situation, right? Their mind turned to the pages and pages of people, couples that they clearly did this exact song and dance with. They thought of how scared they must have been. How confusing this mess would be if you had no idea that vampires were real. Was it some kind of fucked up test? A deadly newlyweds game, where one would be turned and the other devoured if they couldn't resist? What happened to the ones who had turned to hunger, to instinct? What happened to the ones who didn't? The anticipation welling up in their chest churned further into fury. One that started to seep through the cracks of their frightful facade. 

The tall woman was drawing closer, clearly getting her kicks from the assumed theatrics of it all. Teddy knew how fast vampires could move if they wanted to. But this was a creeping crawl comparatively. 

“Don't worry dear, we believe you.” Her voice was a smooth velvet, a stark contrast to the burning red eyes and sharpened fangs she bared. Angela was excited about this. Which only made Teddy hate her more. “You're in love, not just passion. We know what it looks like. You'll pass the test with flying colors, yes?” She grinned.

“It will only hurt a moment. Then you shall have forever, together. Isn't that lovely?” She was looming over them now. Close enough that Teddy's rapid breath bounced back at them, but she still hadn't seen the stake. Well hidden just behind their back. Just out of view. “Well, if you can overcome that pesky hunger, sweetie. Though I know you will.” 

It was her turn to coo as she appraised her next victim. Strong hands held Teddy in place, but then one moved to tilt their head, to expose their neck. Their eyes widened, a shuddering quakey whimper escaped their throat. Playing the part, playing the part. Teeth pierced skin, blood was drawn, and so was the stake. 

Immediately the vampire realized something was wrong. She grasped at her own neck, weeping now from the wound Teddy’s power had reflected back onto her. Angela found it quite hard to remove herself, to stop the damage she was doing to her own body. Frantically she clawed, only to have those marks appear on her as well. Roland screamed, howling in shock as the tide turned so fervently it was hard to tell what was going on. 

It was Teddy who was grinning now. The shark toothed maw under blackened eyes. In one quick thrust, the stake plunged deep into Angela's chest and she burst into a cloud of dust. Good fucking riddance. 

—

It hurt a little. Listening to Teddy say what they were saying, knowing that it was all an act… Emilio should have thought this through a little better. Would it have hurt less if he’d brought Jade instead? Or someone else, someone whose part in the game would have required Emilio to do a bit more acting? He didn’t think he would have gotten this far with someone he saw only as a friend, didn’t think he could have kept up the lie if it were more of a lie. Teddy was an actor. He knew that. They rearranged parts of themself whenever it became necessary, shed some pieces and picked up others. He’d seen it in action more than once. Teddy was an actor, but Emilio wasn’t. It was like Roland had said — he had honest eyes. He always ended up giving away a little more than he meant to. 

“Let go of me,” he seethed, struggling to hold on to the illusion as Roland’s partner — Angela, apparently — made her way towards Teddy. “We don’t want any part of this. Let us go, we won’t tell anyone anything.” It wasn’t a total lie; they probably wouldn’t tell anyone what happened here, but they wouldn’t leave anyone alive, either.

“You may not want a place here,” Roland said, “but you’ve earned one. You should be proud. We only bring on the best of the best, you know. The strongest couples, the ones who last. Eternity after a divorce is awkward, you know.” The intentions, if they’d been unclear before, were pretty obvious now. They were going to turn Teddy, and starve them, then lock them in a room with Emilio. And… what? Wait to see if they’d let their hunger win out over their love? Try to turn Emilio after? They’d be in for a harsh surprise there, of course, but he’d given them no reason to suspect that he was a slayer. 

Angela moved in, teeth sinking into the side of Teddy���s neck, and Emilio let out an angry cry. He knew, of course, that Teddy would be fine. Their healing had gotten them out of tougher situations than this one, and they still had the stake. But seeing them hurt, even knowing the pain wouldn’t last long, sent Emilio into a state all the same. He twisted in Roland’s grip, not pausing when the hand on his throat tightened enough to cut off airflow. He could hold his breath; he was good at that.

The tides turned quickly. Angela felt the effects of Teddy’s healing, then felt the effects of their stake. Roland seemed to have some interest in revenge, removing his hand from Emilio’s throat to throw him to the ground and position himself on top of the slayer, teeth replacing fingers at Emilio’s neck. Emilio let it happen, let the fangs slide into the skin, let his toxic blood hit the vampire’s tongue. The moment it did, Roland hissed and tore himself away, stumbling backwards as the blood burned him, and Emilio pushed himself up. 

“A slayer?” The vampire had the gall to sound outraged, as if he’d been betrayed. Emilio managed to get his feet beneath him again, ignoring the flare of protest from his knee.

“A good one,” he replied. “Don’t worry. It will only hurt for a moment. Then you and your partner will have forever together.” With the vampire’s own words settling into place as a reflection, Emilio surged forward and allowed his stake to land in Roland’s chest as the punctuation. He twisted it cruelly, eyes meeting Roland’s until the moment the vampire’s face collapsed into dust.

The dust collapsed, the slack holding the stake in place disappeared. Emilio let his hand drop, skillfully tucking the stake back into his jacket where he’d retrieved it from before stepping over the pile of dust to Teddy. He put a hand on the side of their neck, tilting their head to inspect the already-gone wound left by Angela’s teeth. Clicking his tongue, he tapped a finger against their skin before pulling back. “I don’t think there will be any dancing,” he commented. “Or spa treatments. Sad. What did the files say? The missing couples…” He trailed off. He had some suspicion of what had happened here. The rapport between Angela and Roland had been too practiced for Teddy and Emilio to have been its first audience. Which probably meant…

Emilio sighed. “Where do you think they put them?”

—

Everything happened so quickly Teddy didn't stop to think until it was over. Until Emilio had turned the vampires’ words back around. Full circle. Until he'd dispatched Roland and crossed the distance between. Emilio's hands were on them now, they could feel the very last dregs of pain ebb away into his touch. They almost pulled away, but– but when would they get this close again? Selfishly, Teddy leaned into the touch. There were no eyes to watch them anymore, no reason to keep up the ruse, and maybe Emilio would remind them of that, but until he did… well they wouldn't have forever, now would they? 

“Well you can always take me dancing to repay me. Or give me a massage, you got strong enough fingers.” A little smile sat at the corners of their mouth. A hand came up to join his, covering it and curling their fingers into his palm. I meant what I said. They wanted to say. They wanted to explain everything. They wanted to kiss him. Wanted to ignore the rest of this mission for just a little bit longer and just be in the moment with him but–

But he had a stronger resolve. He still cared about the people, some of whom might be in danger. He was a better man than them. Teddy nodded to his question, fishing the papers from their pockets before going back to the desk and displaying them all out. “Didn't know how much of a getaway we'd have, so I just grabbed them. Let's take a closer look though.” Their voice was hoarse now. A bit gravely as their power went back to resting. As they tried to put a cap on the emotions still flooding their brain. 

“Though, one of the names… Penny, wasn't that the woman at the front desk?” Her partner was listed as deceased, and Teddy had seen the way Emilio tensed when they first arrived. How the fuck had they kept her around after doing something like that to her? Their brows knit upwards. “That was a while back though… don't know where the… freshly turned ones are.” Teddy paused for a moment until a new expression dawned on them. “Am I gonna turn into a vampire?”

—

“I don’t think dancing with me is much of a reward. What is it they say? Two wrong feet?” He was a little too selfish to pull away as their hand found his again, even if there was no one left to fool. Part of him wanted to make up some excuse — that there might be more people who would need to be convinced, that they should keep up the act — but he knew there was no way to make any of it sound true. It would be obvious to anyone who found Angela and Roland missing or saw the piles of dust in the office what had happened here. If there was anyone left who was a part of this, the charade would be a useless shield to maintain. Emilio knew that. Still, the desire was there.

The remaining victims would make for a good distraction. He looked down at the paper Teddy pulled from their pocket, absently wiping the blood away from the side of his neck as he stared down at the page. He forced the letters to come together, translated the words in his head into things he better understood. It seemed his suspicion was a good one. He and Teddy hadn’t been the first recruited to play into the couple’s ‘game.’ They were, however, luckier than the other pairs. It looked like at least a few of them had been turned, and — Christ. There were words beside some of the names that indicated the ‘test’ had been failed. Some of these people had come here for a romantic weekend and eaten their partners instead. Emilio couldn’t imagine how it must have felt. 

Absently, he nodded. “She’s a vampire,” he confirmed. “Could have been compelling her to do what they want. Or just… made her think there was no place else to go.” If she’d killed her partner, it wouldn’t have been hard, he thought. Manipulation wasn’t hard when someone felt they had few options available. Emilio thought of Zane, grimacing. “Maybe she’ll have more information, or maybe she’ll kill us for turning her bosses to dust. Not sure I want to risk it. I think we look ourselves at first, see if we can find anything that doesn’t belong.” He looked up from the papers, noting the odd look on Teddy’s face. At their question, he let out a small huff of a laugh. “No. Takes a lot more than one bite to do that, querido. You’ll be just fine. So will these people, if we can find them. I think I have somewhere they can go.”

If anyone would understand the struggle these people were bound to be dealing with, it would be Zane. And he’d said he wanted a chance to help, so… Emilio would give him that. Maybe having a few fledgling vampires to babysit would keep him from nagging Emilio so often, too. “Come on.” He pulled away from Teddy reluctantly to head towards the door. “Let’s start looking.”

—

“Right– yeah, let's– let's look.” Teddy sighed and hoped it would just come across as a tired bit of relief, rather than reality coming back and hitting hard. Their eyes drifted downward until their mind replayed the phrasing Emilio had used. Including the same term he'd used before. It didn't…quite add up. Each instance had been when he was a little out of it, or didn't realize Teddy knew Spanish. But– but this shit? This was Emilio’s bread and butter. Being a detective, snooping around, this was where he was at the top of his game. Maybe his mind slipped it in because of the rush of things, maybe he didn't. They couldn't possibly know. But those big brown eyes found his for just a second before they followed him through the door. 

Ask. 

They wanted to. Hells knew they fucking wanted to. What was worse, sitting there, writhing in their skin, cursed to bare the bliss of the memory of his lips? Or to be bluntly rejected. Told the cold hard truth. Teddy knew most people found them to be too much. Teddy knew that almost everyone went away in the end. But the wound was starting to seep outward. It had to be obvious. It was so obvious. Jade noticed, Nora noticed, hell even that kid Van noticed. So Emilio must have, right? Right?!

Just ask.

The ex-demon’s mind was clearly elsewhere as they went about their search. The records kept were the thorough, and after a little more investigation, they found a much more secure section of the resort. Much more isolated, and much darker. Almost as if it were made for creatures of the night. Teddy stuck close to Emilio. Once again pretending it was the circumstances that led them there and not selfishness. Not greed. Clumsily, their hand fished around for his. Human eyes and a lack of undead sensing abilities made them practically useless here. Unfortunately. 

“Anything..?”

—

He tried to keep his mind on the case as they moved through the building. It was something easier said than done. He kept going back to that room with the coffin, to their lips on his and their hands on his back. Or to Roland’s hand locked around his throat and Teddy’s words cutting through, their utter offense at the idea that they’d ever hurt Emilio, that they’d ever make a meal out of someone they loved. It had been a good act. A convincing one. Even now, the slayer found himself questioning things. He knew Teddy found him attractive, of course; they’d made no secret of that. He even knew Teddy had a habit of flirting with him from time to time, but it was like he’d told Jade — Teddy flirted with everyone. And even if they did feel a certain kind of way about him, even if they were beginning to return the feelings Emilio kept locked down deep… how selfish would he have to be to allow it? How monstrous, how unforgivable? If Emilio was anything, he was a bomb. He was shrapnel and explosives just waiting to tear to shreds anyone or anything close enough to the blast to get caught up in it. Even the best case scenario would inevitably see Teddy burying him one day. Emilio didn’t want that for them.

But he wanted… he wanted. He ached with how much he wanted. Distraction was better, he thought. Distraction was what he needed. 

So he focused on the walls around them, the way the building changed from pleasant resort to something that looked a lot more like a serial killer’s basement. Doors went from wood to harsher metal in a way that seemed promising; a wooden door would never hold back a new vampire for long, especially not a hungry one. He hummed as Teddy spoke, focusing his attention on that feeling he got. Right now, it was absent. “Not yet,” he said. “But I think we’re going in the right…” 

There. 

Emilio stopped abruptly, holding out an arm to motion for Teddy to do the same. It was faint, still, so he took a few steps forward, let it pull him. Down the hall a few more steps and… a door. He stopped in front of it, leaning towards the metal. He put an ear to it, listened inside, then turned back to Teddy. “Stay behind me,” he said quietly. “There’s something in there, but I don’t know what. And… We don’t know if they’ve been fed, if they are one of our missing people. They can’t drain me, but they could hurt you. They might not even mean to. So… Back. Yes?”

When Teddy confirmed, Emilio pulled the lockpick kit from his pocket again and began working on the lock. It was more complex than the one in their spa room had been, but he’d gotten good at this. He moved carefully, but quickly, until… click. With another wary glance back at Teddy, he pulled open the door.

[UNSANITARY DESCRIPTION START]

The man inside looked to be in his late thirties. He sat in the far corner of the room; Emilio’s sharp eyes cut through the shadows to find bags of blood piled in the opposite corner, some full, some empty. There was more blood in the center of the room, and marks as if something had been dragged through it. Bad sign, Emilio thought, though at least the blood bags meant the man wasn’t starving. Emilio looked back to Teddy with a nod, then stepped into the room. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “We are going to get you away from here. What’s your name?”

[UNSANITARY DESCRIPTION END]

“Nathaniel,” the man said hoarsely. “Nate. Nate Benson.” 

Emilio recognized the name. “Ah. Your sister-in-law will be happy to hear this.”

“Not when she hears what happened to her sister,” Nate whimpered, burying his head in his knees. “I didn’t mean to. I swear, I didn’t mean to.”

This was the part Emilio wasn’t good at. Comforting people wasn’t a thing he’d learned; he looked to Teddy for help, expression lost.

—

Teddy stayed behind until they didn't. Until they saw a scared and horrifically traumatized man curling into himself. Brows knit close together again, as they took a cautious step forward. Never straying too far from the slayer's hand, but not exactly listening the way they were supposed to. Their heart ached for the man. This was an impossible test. Sure, some passed but that couldn't have only been based on the love the two vampires talked about. There was so much more to it, they were sure of that. 

“Nate. We're gonna get you somewhere safer. Gonna find you someone to talk to, someone who's not gonna mess with your head the way those assholes did, okay?” Teddy couldn't absolve them of their guilt. They knew that. It would probably stick with the young vampire as long as his unnaturally extended second life allowed. The pain might slow it's appearances, only tearing into him from time to time, but it would never actually hurt any less than it did right now. With her blood still around him. With everything so fresh, so raw.

“They did this to you.” They assured. “To both of you.” They continued. “It was their decisions, their dumb beliefs that they hurt you for. I know you didn't mean to hurt her, I can see that. It doesn't mean you didn't love her enough. They just– they took the choice from you. They took away your ability to think.” Teddy kneeled, getting on level with the man not much younger than them. Tentatively, they put a hand out, trusting the blood bags to have quenched his thirst enough that rational thought would pull through. “You aren't who you were at your lowest. You're whoever you decide to be now, okay?” 

— 

Teddy came forward, just as good at this as Emilio had known they’d be. They said what Nate needed to hear, but they didn’t lie to him, either. And they made it look easy. As if being a good person was as simple as breathing because, to Teddy? It was. They were decent and kind and empathetic in ways Emilio had never learned to be. And considering they’d been raised by a literal demon, it was difficult to claim they found this easy because of their upbringing. This was just… who Teddy was. Deep in their soul, to their very core. They were good. Emilio wondered how he’d ever thought anything different. 

Nate seemed to relax a little, though Emilio knew from experience that the grief would never fully leave him. It would make itself a home in his chest and it would live there for as long as there was a chest to live inside. “We killed them,” he said, the words tumbling out in a way he hoped was comforting. “The people who did this to you. We killed them. So… They won’t do it to anyone else.” Did that help? Was it a comfort to people other than ones like Emilio to know that the people who’d hurt you were dead? Nate didn’t seem upset by it, but Emilio wasn’t sure he seemed better, either. In any case, he peeled himself from the floor and came forward, let the two of them pull him from his cell, followed them as they moved down the hall.

There were more doors, more cells. Some, like Nate, had but one person inside, bloodied and traumatized. Others had pairs. Some still human, their heartbeats offering little comfort to offset the sheer magnitude of that sensation of undead crawling across the slayer’s skin, others turned just as their partners had been. In one, they found a fledgling and a spawn; the fledgling screamed when Emilio disposed of the spawn and he ached for them both in a way he hadn’t before.

Finally, they seemed to have gathered all the victims of the scheme that had been locked away. About a dozen in total, plus Penny and a few staff members who seemed more relieved than upset to learn that their bosses were gone. There must have been more, at one point. There were names in the files Teddy had found that didn’t match anyone they’d come across. Emilio tried not to think about those, about what must have become of them. The fact that it was dark by the time they stepped outside worked in their favor, given the amount of new vampires they had now. Emilio turned to them all hesitantly, glancing to Teddy for support. 

“Uh…” They were all looking at him. Him and Teddy both, with their eyes wide and terrified. The ones they’d rescued in pairs clung to one another, while the ones they’d pulled from their single-occupant cells still curled in on themselves. “I’ll give you an address. A place to go. The guy there can… at least tell you what to expect. Look at you if you’re hurt. But… Some of it’s up to you. None of you chose this. I know that. What you do with it something you do pick. You hurt people, you’ll see me again. I won’t be as nice. You don’t hurt anyone, and this will be the last time we talk.” He paused for a moment. “You don’t want to see me again,” he clarified, in case it hadn’t been clear. “So just… Don’t be like the things that made you this way.”

—

Each new cell offered a new hurt. Some that had been festering longer than others, some that had been stitched only because two survived, instead of one. Teddy wanted to hold them. Wanted to comfort them more than they could, more than words could offer. No one should have to endure something this awful alone. Their gaze swept along the faces, they tried their best to remember all the names. Then fell on Emilio as he spoke up. A pride stirred behind their ribs, striking up their heartbeat again as they looked on with admiration. 

Emilio was a man of action. He showed the care he held for the world in the ways he protected it. He didn't judge them for being turned, for… the things that some had been forced into. He offered a stern warning, but also a strong comfort. If he was the thing they'd face for doing something wrong with the new chance they'd been given, then he was the metric by which they'd judge their new lives. While the ex-demon saw it as a good thing, a noble knight who was more than his duty, Teddy just didn't know if everyone would see it that way. So they offered their own perspective alongside his. To work in tandem. Together. 

“Don't lose sight of each other though. I know most of you probably just want to forget this all ever happened, and I get that. But all of you have this in common, which means there's no one else in the world who is going to understand the pain you're in as much as the people around you.” Some of the fledglings looked to the others, some kept their eyes on Teddy or Emilio. “Everything is going to be different now. But you get to decide how the story goes from here. Lean on each other for support. Remember–” Despite their attempts to seem calm and collected, the heartache of the day must have finally broken through. Teddy's voice cracked, welling up over the people they didn't get to save. Knowing full well how much worse it was for each of them. And how little words were going to help. Still, they thought it prudent to try. 

“Remember that you can still find strength in people. In love. Even when you've lost everything. You all have each other. Keep the ones you lost alive by telling their stories. By being the person they'd want you to be.” In the same way families were tied together by circumstance and fate, this little group was too. And while love was something that many of them would likely curse because of what it brought upon them, Teddy knew that without it the world was just ash and gray. 

For these folks to go on, for them to live even somewhat normal lives, they needed new connections to go along with their new undeath. Zane would be good. He was a wonderful caretaker. And if he was overwhelmed, Teddy knew a handful of vampires who had made a good name for themselves too. They'd pass along the info to the nurse when they got the chance.

“I'm sorry this happened to you.” The ex-demon offered a sympathetic smile, even if it was laced with pain, they didn't want the last thing these people saw before going off to reinvent themselves to be a scowl. It was necessary, they thought, to show both sides. Compassion and structure. Teddy nodded, and they dispersed. Leaving just the slayer and his fake partner alone in a dark parking lot. 

“Do you think they'll be okay?” 

—

Teddy’s advice was good. These people had been through something unimaginable… but they were right here with other people who’d been through the same thing. There was value in having someone who understood you. Emilio had learned that, had seen it for himself. It didn’t make the ache of grief go anywhere, but at least it made it easier to swallow. It didn’t pull you out of the ocean, but it gave you a liferaft to cling to long enough to catch your breath. Teddy had been helping him catch his breath for a while now. It only made sense that they’d do the same for these strangers. 

Emilio wasn’t good at advice. He’d been through what he’d been through, but he had no idea how to offer anyone else guidance to overcoming their own tragedies. He could only give them Zane’s information, could only text the vampire with a warning as to what was coming his way, could only hope it made some kind of a difference. 

There was guilt in the way he found relief when they’d all dispersed, guilt in the way he felt better without that feeling of undead making his senses go haywire. When it was just him and Teddy, Emilio found himself able to relax in a way that had been impossible since the moment they’d stepped up to that front desk. He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck and shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess that’s up to them.” Shivering a little, he nodded towards the car. “Come on.”

—

#wickedswriting

[netherfeildren]

hi!

i was wondering if you had any book recommendations or a list of your favourite books that you could share?<3<3

hello hello! i 100% absolutely do *cracks knuckles* there’s absolutely nothing i love more than talking about my favorite books let’s go

- i always start with anne carson bc she’s undoubtedly my favorite author writing today. no one (and i mean this literally) is doing what she’s doing. a strange concoction of greek classics / poetry / prose. narrative poetry is pretty much the gist of it. autobiography of red is one of my most favorite books ever — sad funny gorgeous all the things. i also love the beauty of the husband and norma jean baker of troy but i’ve read all her books and they’re all wonderful

- the goldfinch by donna tartt. like not just the story — boris and theo and everything, but no one writes about existence like DT and i don’t even mean in the metaphorical existential sense but what it is to live a life, the space around you, a home, a friendship, your material things, a social life, everything. it’s not necessarily her attention to detail, even tho it is, but it’s more so the details she chooses to include. (rumor about a new pub in june was fake *cries*)

- i’ve read a lot of nabokov this year. i read pnin it was good, i read laughter in the dark it was Excellent!! now i’m reading one of his books of short stories and i like it a lot a lot i’m a big short story person i read a lot of anthologies

- consider the lobster by david foster wallace is one i love. people either find it dry and abysmal or perfect i’m the latter

- bulgakov’s the master and margarita seminal classic for a reason - funny shocking mysterious all the things i think everyone should read this book at least once

- i read primeval and other times by olga tokarczuk this year it was quite strange like postmodern fantasy. some parts of it are pretty uncomfortable but i did enjoy it

- i’ve been working through anais nïn’s backlog this year and i’m having fun with it. i’ve read all the erotica and it’s interesting in more than just the sex. it’s pretty violent and strange and like shocking. and i like her very concise style it’s pretty good

- lighter stuff everything by lisa kleypas but particularly the hathaways lovely comfort reads i go back to all the time — my favorite type of romance is a historical romance hands down (i have read SO MUCH historical romance and will give a more detailed list if that’s wanted) — also her ravenels series but particularly chasing cassandra is DELICIOUS

- for fantasy katherine arden’s winternight trilogy is unlike anything else ever and i’ve also met her and she’s so kind and lovely and a wonderful human who deserves all the success in the world

- miscellaneous but by no means lesser : ottessa moshfegh, louise glück, loretta chase (lord of scoundrels)!!! swoon!; tessa dare

#book recs #vic’s recs

[after-witch]

The cover for Katherine Arden's new book (coming February 2024) is out and there's also some early reviews from some eclusive special ARCs they created on Goodreads, including this one and I--

What value a soul, to one already in Hell? With the rich, vibrant prose that is her trademark, Katherine Arden illuminates the horrors of war, the insidious seduction of the devil, and the power of hope and love. An elaborately researched masterpiece five years in the making, worth every moment of the wait.

I'm going to lose my mind waiting for this book, aren't I?

#insidious seduction of the devil hhhh

[cosettepontmercys]

Hi Cossette! I've been spending the last few days gathering some 2024 media releases that I hope to check out this year and I'm looking forward to (to name a few!):

Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands by Heather Fawcett

A Tempest of Tea by Hafsah Faizal

The Mars House by Natasha Pulley

The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden

Faebound by Saara El-Arifi

and ooh! I'm also very intrigued about Allison Saft's upcoming adult debut!! I hope it will be good 🙏

I also prefer standalones! While there are times where I'd love to revisit my favourite worlduilding + characters, I tend to find the storytelling & character development more properly fleshed out within a standalone (comparing to books within a long series).

That's totally valid! It certainly took me some time to get into Alix E Harrow's writing - not that's it's poorly written (it's very artfully written), but it's pretty dense and the story pacing is on the slow side. Also as much as I enjoy taking notes / annotating beautifully written prose, I feel you effort required to analyse the writing 😅

Speaking of The Starless Sea, the aesthetic / vibes of the book reminds me of Taylor Swift's Midnights - very atmospheric and with a strong focus on storytelling. I've been meaning to make something showcasing parallels between songs from Midnights & sections of The Starless Sea since late 2022 (this was pushed back for various reasons), so I was very happy to post the edit today :D

If you could assign your favourite books as music albums (based on thematic / aesthetic similarities), how would you pair them up?

P.S. Yes!! I love the album & vinyl artwork for Kali Uchis' new album and I hope you have the chance to listen to Orquideas later this year! (and I hope you all the best with the 365 albums challenge 💖)

hi jennifer!!! i have an arc of a tempest of tea, but i don't know if i'll get around to it before publication date 😭 i'm really intrigued by the premise, but struggled a bit with the fantasy in we hunt the flame (i struggle a lot with fantasy/have to be in a very specific mood for it)! i haven't read any of katherine arden's stuff, but have seen a lot of it on the internet over the years; maybe i'll check it out!

i feel like a common question i see on bookstagram is "what's your favorite series" and i always struggle to answer this because i am just not a series girlie! i think the few favorite series that i love (that aren't duologies) are probably either the raven cycle, or series of romance books that are set in the same universe but follow different characters so they essentially operate as standalones! i wish i was a series girlie, but i just ... am not one. i actually just put alix harrow's ten thousand doors of january on hold on libby — it might work better for me as an audiobook! sometimes i do better with fantasy via audiobook than physically reading it, for some reason.

i saw your starless sea/midnights gifset and am obsessed. i know i've told you this before but i loveeeee your gifsets so much, especially the ones where you find parallels between things!

oh this is so hard! i feel like it's easier to assign specific songs for me, rather than entire albums to books, but here goes:

beach read: honorable mention to emails i can't send by sabrina carpenter (title track) for january's relationship with her father, but unsure of what album would fit january/gus best!

normal people: i think either sam fender's seventeen going under, or noah kahan's stick season? i think both albums have a similar theme of being homesick and also home sick, which i feel like plays a big role in the plot of normal people!

honey girl: i feel like paint my bedroom black by holly humberstone? like the themes of growing up / moving away / being lonely / figuring out your life?

the starless sea: maybeeeee evermore but this does not feel like a good fit to me still!

les miserables: ... going to cheat here and say the les mis cast recording

i'm still stuck on portrait of a thief, and book lovers though! what about you? what book/album pairings do you have in mind?

#post: answered #mutual: jennifer

[eureka-its-zico]

Well it’s supposed to be about an aspect of Early Modern English works (it’s the renaissance but god it feels like that one scene in project runway where the one guys mocking the girl “it’s vermillion” bitch it’s red) as examined through some of the works we’ve read in/for class. Now me, I’m an idiot and so I never take the easy route. Why would I when I can torture myself. So my dumb ass, obsessed with Greek mythology that I am (I have a Medusa tattoo on the back of my neck) decided to do my paper on the phenomenon of classic works referenced through plays and prose during the early modern era. So what does this mean? (God I’ve written that sentence so much these past 2 weeks) The basis for the paper is essentially that humans are repetitive creatures and that everything we use today has already been written in some way. The use of Greek mythology was the inspiration for the paper (the use of characters like Charon in plays like Arden of faversham to name one) but I’m broadening my scope to include works of Shakespeare and other popular authors at the time.

I sincerely hope that your essay turned out well. I can tell you right now, I truly believe it did and I also really really love the subject matter for which you decided on. I fully agree with you that writers and just creators in general basically reuse the things we’ve seen on films, video games, or read. I’m honestly so curious to read your essay to see what works you came up with and the way that these might all work together to showcase your point in that they all basically are the same works, just reimagined.

I do hope that after this was completed that you were able to get much needed rest, stayed hydrated, and made sure to eat or at least snack 🖤 sending you all the best vibes and tons of love.

#bitter-post-millennial #answered #im so excited for your project!!!! #it sounds amazing

[isfjmel-phleg]

Fortnight of Books 2022: Days 5-7

Most thrilling, unputdownable book of 2022?

There were several of these that were real page-turners for me! The Sylvia Game by Vivien Alcock, Small Spaces by Katherine Arden, The List of Unspeakable Fears by J. Kasper Kramer, Long Lost by Jacqueline West, and Nightbooks by J. A. White.

Book that was most outside your comfort zone/new genre exploration?

You know what I'm going to say. We've been over this already. It's comics.

Favorite cover of the year award goes to:

Most beautifully-written book you read in 2022?

A City of Bells by Elizabeth Goudge. Unsurprisingly, since Goudge's prose is always lyrical.

Most memorable character:

War and Peace has about eighty gazillion characters, but the standout one for me was Pierre Bezukhov. He's a mess. He is very human. Bless his heart.

2022 also introduced me to Bart Allen, who now lives in my head rent-free and brought friends, so that's fun.

Most annoying character:

By the time I finished Rule of Wolves, I was So Done with Nina. So done.

#Fortnight of Books 2022 #random personal stuff

[the-final-sentence]

Then Ollie tucked the watch under her pillow, and they all fell asleep to the quiet of a windless winter night, and Mr. Adler and Coco’s mom playing music very softly downstairs.

Katherine Arden, from Dead Voices

#lit #prose #submission #Dead Voices #Katherine Arden

[sabraeal]

I hope you will take this as a fun opportunity and not an annoyance but I was wondering if you had any book recs? I generally read fantasy and have been trying to break into Adult Lit over YA (while still liking YA and hoping to find adult novels with the same engaging settings and brisk pacing but with more advanced prose). Really liked Spinning Silver and Uprooted by Naomi Novik this year, and my favorites of your fics are Seven Suitors (obligatory), pacific rim au, and the snow queen one. I’ve never really read romance before but I’m willing to give it a try, especially if there’s other genre elements at play as well. Do you have any directions you could point me? I appreciate it!

Oh, I always love giving book recs, and thank you so much for giving me some preferences because it's so much easier to direct people when I know what they already like!

My current favorite YA author right now is Frances Hardinge, who writes truly magnificent prose and absolutely amazing worlds. If you like All That Remains, you will probably love the emotional devastation that is The Lie Tree, and a few of my other favorites are Gullstruck Island and Cuckoo Song. If you are a fan of Terry Pratchett, you also can't go wrong with her Fly By Night duology. Genevieve Valentine is another YA author I highly recommend; Mechanique is probably my favorite, but the Persona series is also top notch, and The Girls at the Kingfisher Club has a vibe that cannot be beat.

I haven't yet read Spinning Silver but Uprooted is also a fav of mine; I have a deep love of fairy tale retellings, or stories written to be like fairy tales. On that thread I definitely recommend the Winternight trilogy by Katherine Arden (I have a few quibbles with the story, but the writing is solid and the first book had me captivated for a good 3/4ths of it), The Orphan's Tales by Catherynne M Valente, plus A Curse Dark as Gold by Elizabeth C Bunce (her Thief Errant series also lives RENT FREE in my head at all times).

Seven Suitors was fleshed out with Regency mores in mind, inspired by by historical mystery novels I read in that time period, plus some fantasy with more rigid social structure. The Crown & Court duet by Sherwood Smith is something I would consider formative for my writing in that quarter. For something actually regency set, though definitely not the same genre, I would recommend the Sebastian St Cyr series by CS Harris, which are mysteries set in Georgian London, featuring a brooding hero who starts off with an equally brooding, star-crossed actress as a lover...only to have the rug pulled out beneath him by the daughter of his father's long-standing political rival.

My scifi chops are rather thin-- I love the genre but I find lots of the deeper cuts here get too info-dumpy for me on the hard science level-- but I can definitely recommend The Expanse series by James SA Corey (as well as pretty much anything Daniel Abraham writes in the fantasy genre)

As for All That Remains, there are several extremely painful fantasy series I could recommend, because I love having my heart torn out, stamped on, and then taped back in. Guy Gavriel Kay is a great writer for that-- I suggest starting at Lions of Al-Rassan and then working your way forward through that setting by publishing date. The aforementioned Daniel Abraham also is amazing at this; The Seasons Quartet is a decades-spanning series that will truly make your tear out your hair at the end of each book. NK Jemisin is also amazing, The Broken Earth trilogy is where I would start out for intense heart-stomping.

#asks #recs #YA is such a hard genre because so much of what is pushed is like...dystopian trilogies with love triangles #but there's SO MUCH MORE out there #you just hafta REALLY DIG #i tried very hard not to make this like. HERE ARE ALL MY FAVORITE BOOKS #but since you chose the three fics taht i feel like showcase a lot of the writing chops i've picked up from reading #it was HARD

[feytouched]

top 5 books of all time?

recommend and review a book!

these are all recs + mini reviews, so here are my (current) top 5!

deathless by catherynne m. valente - i adore the surreal atmosphere of this book; valente's writing lends itself well to a dreamlike fairytale story, but rather than hazy and delicate, this is a tale as vivid as blood. it has teeth! i've reread certain passages countless times: the sisters and then marya meeting their husbands-to-be, and the ride all the way to koschei's country, with all the lush descriptions of feasting and fever. i adore it.

the winternight trilogy by katherine arden - cheating a bit because these are three books, but this is my favourite fantasy series. the protagonist avoids all the main pitfalls of 'strong female MCs' in the genre, the romance is subtle but sublime, there is a beautiful, tortured priest...! magical horses! winter magic! really well-written prose! a perfect slow read

devotions by mary oliver - probably my favourite poetry book overall, there are just so many stunning gems in mary oliver's collected works. it's a must-read for poetry lovers, though i'm not saying anything groundbreaking there; her blend of appreciation for nature, humility without negativity towards oneself, and quiet, kind, deeply personal spirituality really moved me.

invisible cities by italo calvino - i read this in one day last december and it has lived rent free in my brain ever since. recommended for jacob geller video essay enjoyers, surrealist movement fans, and philosophy enthusiasts. it's the perfect kind of strange, and the writing is just so good. i now understand why there were snippets of this in many of my high school textbooks.

the little white horse by elizabeth goudge - this one is a bit niche but. it was my most favourite book growing up! it's not just nostalgia, though. there are a lot of christian themes and religion plays a big part in this story, so if that's not your thing you've been forewarned, but i think it's a really charming book, full of wonder and lovely descriptive passages of people, nature, and (of course!) food. it was formative for me as a young horse girl, and i've reread it so many times that my paperback copy is very worn.

actually i can see some similarities in theme & vibe between the winternight books and the little white horse..... winternight is like the grown-up version, where you discover nothing is as straightforward or wholesome as you first thought, but there's the same resolve to forge ahead and make things better at any cost. and magic horses!

book asks!

#answered

[mermaidsirennikita]

Any thoughts on Prince Harry's Spare?

Not completely done with it!

Immediate thoughts:

--Lol I feel really bad for his ghostwriter that so many translated-from-Spanish excerpts were leaked, because the prose is legit good.

--People are making a big deal out of a celebrity memoir oversharing when a) this is the point of a memoir and b) they don't have to engage with it if they don't want. And honestly? This is a pretty intimate memoir (more so than I initially expected) but it's nothing crazy on that front. I've read more revealing.

--If I'm being super real, I'm kind of reading to read it and then I'll fully process what it makes me think of him AFTER because I don't know how else to read a memoir, but.... I don't know, the picture he paints of himself is PRETTY MUCH how I expected him to be.

--He's obviously got a huge Oedipal Complex, but I think that he is aware of it and that also is literally ... impossible to avoid, and not necessarily a bad thing. Hard for a partner to put up with (and I hate to say this, but harder for a partner to put up with when the mother is alive and around to interfere in your relationship) but the thing is that if his account is to be believed, Meghan does remind him a lot of his mom. She seems to be a good match for him on that front, so it's like. Cool? It works? I don't know, it's wild to see people take things like the "I had a frostbitten dick and people told me to use Elizabeth Arden cream on it and that reminded me of how my mom used that on her lips" out of context going "OMG SO WEIRD" because he immediately says "OMG SO WEIRD" lol like... He knows this.... I don't know how normal you expected this man to be...

--I think he's a lot fairer to William and Charles than people give him credit for. Not fair! He's naturally an unreliable narrator. None of us can be fair to those we're very close to. You either protect them or rake them over the coals. I wouldn't say he totally rakes them over the coals. I think there are things he's withholding about them for both self-serving purposes, and protective purposes. But he clearly loves them (especially Charles) and knows they love him, but also deeply resents them because of things they can't help and things they can. It's very classic familial shit.

--The picture he paints of Prince Charles is of a classic distant father who cannot deal with expressing affection the way his kids desperately need him to, who prioritizes his own happiness over that of his children. Standard issue. He doesn't really connect the dots with how a lot of that is because Elizabeth and Philip were rotten parents themselves, but he skirts close to it.

--The picture he paints of William is of a guy who resents Harry because he has supposed freedoms William doesn't get, while Harry resents William for being pompous about being #1, favored by the family and the press, and distant as an older brother. The book really dismantles the perception (which I shared at one point) that they were super close. Like, they were and they weren't. They were trauma bonded over their mother's death (and I'll note that Harry NEVER takes away from how much William loves their mom, at least at the point I'm at, that is very clear) but they were raised in rivalry and it's clear that they are naturally *very* different guys.

--He really loved Kate as a sister. The affection he had for her shines through, though she isn't discussed a TON. It makes me wonder about his animosity towards William and what that could further be connected to.

--He's an army guy through and through. That is not just clear in the way he discusses the army, but the way he discusses life. If you've known the Average Army Guy (and I'm talking not the big time politically army guys, of which I.... have met relatively few, personally, but the guys who see it as a job and culture and family, who often have distant family lives and seek a purpose) Harry will be very familiar to you in just... the way he talks about EVERYTHING.

--I'm not gonna give my view on the way he discusses killing people in the army just yet, because.... I think that's a very complicated topic and I need to reread that part and really think about it. I will say, I think the uproar over it being "revealed" in this book is super! Fake! Because a) if you googled what Harry was doing in the army, where. he was doing it, it would be highly unlikely for him to not have been indirectly or directly killing people, and we've known that for years b) he literally said he killed people to a reporter years ago, so. That doesn't make the act any better or worse, or his view on it, but this is not bRAND NEW INFORMATION, and I can tell you that there is much more context on his thoughts in the memoir... Which is is why... if you care that much.... you should probably read more than a few sentences before giving an opinion lol.

--Whoever taught Harry about unconscious bias needs to dial that back because while that is a thing and it is a thing he and his family deal with, it is not the explanation behind *everything*. I believe that he wants to Do Better. I think he has a lot more work to do, and his discussions of race and his racism in this book are not fully formed. I believe that on some level he wants to take full responsibility, but on another level he is very afraid of doing so. And I get that. If he is out there like "damn, I was so racist", his family will absolutely use that against him. And I also think that Harry is still grappling with how people can both be racist and also be super against racism, tbh, and how to discuss that. I mean, most people don't know how to discuss it properly, to be real. I'm not surprised that a guy who is not even the top priority in a family where a fifth grade education is CRUSHIN' IT is not discussing this properly. But like. He still needs to work more if he wants to discuss it.

[justfandomwritings]

For your ask how about 1, 29, and 30?

Ask Game… Send in Numbers for Questions if you’re also bored

if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

Read: I would read The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden. Just in regards to the setting and the prose, it will probably give you some insight into my vibe/aesthetic as a person. The setting and the fact that it's a fairytale retelling are also important because those have been huge influences on my reading habits over the years, and reading is probably one of my main influences to my person. But even disregarding that, the story has a lot of overarching themes that I think would tell you a lot about me.

Watch: I think a good place to start would be watching the 2019 adaptation of Emma or reading Emma by Jane Austen. (I'm calling this the 'watch' though because I have other books in mind.) It's probably going to sound odd/make me seem like a worse person to say that out of all of the Austen heroines I relate to Emma the most given how deeply flawed she is compared to someone like Lizzie who is also flawed but has flaws that we as a society are more willing to accept. We all want to be a Lizzie, but a huge part of understanding someone (and really of understanding yourself) is acknowledging your flaws. That said, my explanation for Emma is that, while I have never and may never be rich, there were certainly times in my life when I exhibited Emma's level of snobbish elitism in other aspects of life, and I think that my growth as a person probably mirrors her comeuppance at the end of the novel and where we can all imagine her character would've grown after as she matured/learned that she didn't know everything and wasn't always the smartest person in the room.

Listen to: I don't listen to much music on my own. Music is usually a vehicle for getting me in the mood to tell a particular kind of story. So with that in mind, I think the songs I've listened to the most are all story related: Iris by the GooGoo Dolls, Head Above Water by Avril Lavigne, Love You Goodbye by One Direction. Those are all songs that have made it on my Spotify Wrapped in the last couple years. They all correspond to one story or another. I don't know how much I listen to them when I'm not writing, but I don't listen to much music at all when I'm not writing. So I don't really have other answers to give there. And the stories I write are pretty important to me, so that's as good as I got there.

three songs that you connect with right now.

Like I said, songs are usually story vehicles for me. Granted, stories are influential to me so the songs that are vehicles for them are important in that sense but are rarely important on their own. I connect with them to the extent that I connect with a story, and they get me in the mood to write that. Answering this as best I can, the three songs that right now are on repeat, mostly because of stories, are: If I Could Fly by One Direction, One Way Ticket by LeAnn Rimes, and Home by Catie Turner.

pick one of your favorite quotes.

I refuse to pick one. If songs are things that I struggle to find connection with and a question I don't have a great answer for, quotes are the exact opposite. I have been preparing for this my whole life.

Lots of Quotes Under Cut

Quotes that are Hopeful:

"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light. I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." - Sarah Williams, Twilight Hours

"I dwell in possibility." - Emilly Dickinson

Quotes about Strength and Women:

“There is no beast, no rush of fire, like woman so untamed. She calmly goes her way where even panthers would be shamed.” - Aristophanes, Lysistrata

“She made herself stronger by fighting with the wind.” - Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

Quotes with Fighting and Strength as Themes:

"Our masters have not heard the people's voices for generations, and it is much, much louder than they care to remember." - Alan Moore, V for Vendetta

"You cannot buy the revolution. You cannot make the revolution. You can only be the revolution. It is in your spirit, or it is nowhere." - Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed

"I offered them Utopia, but they fought for the right to live in Hell." - Mark Millar, Superman: Red Son

Quotes about Love:

“What was it like to lose him?" Asked Sorrow. There was a long pause before I responded: It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me—said all at once.” - Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure

“You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.” - Anna Akmatova, Complete Poems

“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.” - Salvador Plascencia, The People of Paper

Quotes about Fear:

“Only priests and fools are fearless and I've never been on the best of terms with God.” - Patrick Rothfuss, Name of the Wind

“There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.” - Patrick Rothfuss, A Wise Man's Fear

Other Random Quotes:

“I wish I was a woman of about thirty-six dressed in black satin with a string of pearls.” - Daphne Du Maurier, Rebecca

“If complete and utter chaos was lightning, then he'd be the sort to stand on a hilltop in a thunderstorm wearing wet copper armour and shouting 'All gods are bastards!” - Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic