#the kinda book you read and in the last chapter it is revealed that it is one of the characters relaying the tale of their youth

[no-light-left-on]

every dishonored game (with the exception of DotO) ends with the Outsider narrating what came after, when the story came to a close, and it does give the game the quality of one - a story recounted to you, in detail, by a master storyteller that explains what came after, what fate the characters you grew to love in the tale met, before it all fades to nothing. and it conjures ideas of human Outsider relaying strange stories like this to others, those of the plague and of the coup, tales of the Knife of Dunwall, or the tales of the witch-Empress before she became an Empress at all. maybe even presents the idea of the third game being, at the end of it all, a retelling of what human Outsider lived through, but now he is a little older, a little less otherworldly.

[allthelovehes]

The Author*

Summary: You just moved into your new apartment and your new neighbour turns out to be the author of the smutty book you're currently reading.

Pairing: Author/Neighbour!Harry x Reader

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings: Smut, basically strangers, it's cute tho.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

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The first few weeks of living in your new apartment were, thankfully, relatively uneventful. You had managed to find a new job and keep your finances balanced, and the building you were in seemed to be relatively clean and well-maintained, and you'd never seen anyone who you thought would have a problem with you.

You travel back and forth between work by bus, not really feeling the need to have a car in the big city. Plus it gives you the perfect opportunity to read a good book, something you love but always slips in the cracks of your busy life.

It's the last day of work before your weekend, and you're on the bus home deep into a chapter of the book you're reading, everything is going perfectly fine. You're excited for the weekend as you still have a few boxes to unpack and some cleaning and organization that needs to get done.

You've been so into the book you're reading, that when you realize the bus just drove past your usual stop, you're shocked.

“Oh, shit.” You mutter under your breath as you try to think of what to do. You could just walk the few blocks back to your stop, the weather is fine anyway. You press the button, the bus comes to a halt at the next stop and you step off, thanking the driver for the ride. You begin walking, a tote on your shoulder and the book still in hand.

The streets aren't busy, it's not a particularly busy part of the city, and it's a beautiful afternoon. The sun is shining and there is a slight breeze, but not too much. You can hear the birds chirping and see the small kids playing in the nearby park, all in all a nice day.

You reach your building after a few minutes of walking, and the front door is unlocked and ajar, so you let yourself in and start to head towards the stairwell. When you reach the right floor, you spot your neighbour coming out of their apartment, the one you had seen the first night you'd arrived.

He was tall, much taller than you, and wearing a t-shirt that clung to his form nicely, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal a collection of tattoos that ran all the way down to his hands. His hair was curly and looked incredibly soft and you wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it. His jaw was chiselled, sporting a stubble. He looked good, really good.

“Hey.” He says, his voice deep and smooth, and you can't help but notice the accent he has. “I haven't seen you around before, are you the new neighbour?”

“Yeah, I moved in a couple of weeks ago.” You reply. “My name is Y/N.”

“It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Harry.” He extends a hand and you shake it. You notice the rings on his fingers, they're large, but not tacky, and they suit him. He looks at the book in your other hand and chuckles, “A reader, eh?”

“Yeah, I've always loved reading, and this one is really good, I've been wanting to finish it, so I'm glad I missed my stop, I was so deep into the story I hadn't even noticed.” You chuckle and it's then when Harry notices what book you have in hand, his book.

“Hey, wait a second. You're reading my book!” He points at the cover.

“Oh, you wrote this? Well, now I feel kinda embarrassed.” You say, laughing, trying to hide the embarrassment and your blushing cheeks. The story is based around quite a few explicit sex scenes, and you're hoping he won't bring it up.

“I'm just messing with ya. I'm actually quite flattered.” He chuckles.

You talk for a few more minutes and then go on your way. He is funny and kind, and his smile is one that you know you would kill to see. His eyes are bright, and you love the way his curls move when he laughs.

As you make your way to your apartment, you're smiling to yourself, thinking about how good-looking your new neighbour is. He seems kind and easy-going, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to spend more time with him.

When you get to your apartment, you drop your things, kick off your shoes and throw yourself onto your sofa. You sigh and close your eyes, taking a moment to process the day, and what just happened.

Knowing the man who came up with those incredible sex scenes was living right across the hall from you, is driving you absolutely wild. You're not sure why you're reacting the way you are, you have no business thinking about him like that. But he's just so fucking hot, and his accent, and his body, and the way his arms looked...

You feel your skin begin to heat up, and a tingling between your legs, and before you even realise, your hand is down the front of your jeans. You start touching yourself, and all you can think of is him, and the words he has written. Your breathing becomes heavier and you close your eyes, imagining him doing these things to you, his lips and hands exploring your body.

You're abruptly ripped from your fantasy by a knock on the door, and you jump and scramble to pull your hand from your pants.

“Fuck.” You hiss under your breath, and run your fingers through your hair, trying to get it to look presentable. You look through the peephole in the door and your eyes widen, there stands Harry, and he's holding a bottle of wine. You take a deep breath and open the door, trying to appear as composed as possible.

“Oh, hi.” You say, smiling, but you're nervous. “What can I do for you, Harry?”

“Hey, Y/N, I just came to drop off some wine.” He seems nervous. “I figured since you're new it'd be a nice thing to do.”

“That's very sweet of you, thank you.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” He turns and starts to walk back to his own apartment.

“Harry, wait!” You shout, and he turns back to face you.

“Yes, love?” His British accent thick.

“Do you want to come in? I'll pour us some wine.”

“Yeah, that'd be lovely.” He follows you into the apartment. You take the wine from him and pour two glasses. You hand him the glass and sit down next to him, making sure to keep some distance between you.

You chat for a while, sipping your wine, and you find yourself enjoying his company. He tells you about his writing and how he's working on another book, and that he's glad that you've enjoyed the one he already published. You tell him about yourself, about how much you love to read, and he tells you he'll send you copies of the other books he has published.

The wine is flowing, and so is the conversation. Harry is really nice, and you find yourself wanting to spend more time with him. The bottle is empty and your cheeks are flushed, but not just from the alcohol.

“Well, I should probably head home.” Harry says, and the disappointment is evident on your face.

“No, don't leave yet.” You protest, and his eyes lock with yours. “I'm enjoying your company.”

“Well, alright. I can stay a bit longer.” He says, smiling.

You're not sure why, but you feel compelled to lean forward and kiss him. Maybe it's the wine, or the fact that he's just so fucking hot, or the stories and sex scenes in the book he had written. You're not sure, but something is driving you crazy, and you need him. Your lips crash against his, and it takes a moment for him to register what's happening. But when he kisses back, your heart flutters and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults.

You pull away and stare at him for a moment, and he looks at you with a mixture of lust and surprise in his eyes.

“Sorry.” You mutter. “I shouldn't have-“

He cuts you off by leaning in and kissing you again, this time deeper, and more passionate. His tongue finds its way into your mouth and your tongues collide, tasting each other. He pulls away and stares into your eyes, his lips slightly swollen and a smirk on his face.

“You're a good kisser.” He whispers.

“So are you.” You reply, a smile spreading across your lips.

He leans back in, kissing you more roughly than before, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. He begins trailing kisses down your neck and jawline, eliciting small whimpers and moans from you. He makes his way down your collarbones and chest, then moves back up to your ear.

“Y/N.” He whispers. “May I take this off?”

“Please.” You reply, almost begging. He grabs the bottom of your shirt and pulls it over your head, revealing the lacy bra underneath. He stares at your breasts for a moment, drinking them in, before he dives down and sucks at the exposed skin. He moves to your other breast and does the same, and his other hand begins to unbutton his own shirt.

He removes his shirt, revealing his tattoos, and you can't help but stare. He has a slim yet muscular frame, and his arms are toned and strong. You trace the ink on his chest and torso with your fingers, and he watches your reaction with a smirk.

He stands up and grabs your waist, picking you up and setting you on the kitchen island. He leans down and kisses you again, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You can feel his erection through his jeans, and it's big, really big. You can't help but let out a moan at the thought of him fucking you with that monster.

He reaches around and unclasps your bra, pulling it off and exposing your breasts. He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at it, while his hand plays with the other. You throw your head back and moan, grabbing at his curls and tugging slightly. He lets out a groan and grinds his hips against yours, and you can feel his cock harden even more.

“Harry.” You moan. “I want you.”

He removes his mouth from your breast and looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust.

“Are you sure, love?” He asks, his accent sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, please.” You beg, and he smirks. You're so eager and it's making him impossibly harder. He undoes his belt and his pants fall to the floor. You stare at his cock hiding in his black boxers, and your mouth waters. It's long and thick, and you know that it's going to feel amazing. He pulls off his boxers, and his cock springs free, standing proudly.

He grabs your jeans and tugs them down, revealing the matching pair of lace panties. He groans as he looks at you, and his fingers hook under the fabric, pulling them down your legs.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking beautiful.” He breathes, taking in the sight of you. You're completely naked and exposed in front of him, and he can't help but marvel at how perfect you are. He leans in and kisses you, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him close. He grinds his hips against yours, his cock rubbing against your wetness. He's teasing you, and it's driving you insane.

“Harry, please.” You whine, and he smirks.

“Please, what?” He teases, continuing his slow grinding.

“Please fuck me.”

He groans and searches for his wallet, finding a condom. He slides it on and lines his cock up with your entrance, pushing in slowly. He fills you up completely, and you cry out, arching your back. He lets you adjust to his size before he starts moving. He sets a slow and steady pace, and you're moaning and whimpering.

“Fuck, Harry.” You gasp. “You're so big.”

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He groans. He thrusts his hips, his cock sliding in and out of you. You reach down and begin rubbing your clit, and the extra stimulation has you seeing stars. No wonder the smut in his books is good, the man himself knows exactly what he's doing.

His pace quickens and his breathing becomes laboured. He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing the sounds that escape your mouth. He picks you up from the countertop and carries you over to the sofa, never breaking his rhythm. He lays you down and continues pounding into you, and you can feel the pressure building.

“Harry, I'm so close.” You moan, and he reaches down to rub your clit.

“Come for me, baby.” He growls, and that's all it takes for you to come undone. You scream his name and arch your back as the orgasm rips through you. He keeps his pace, thrusting harder and faster, prolonging your pleasure.

When you come down from your high, he pulls out and grabs your legs, flipping you onto your stomach. He positions himself behind you and pushes back in, causing you both to moan. His hands grip your hips and he begins pounding into you, and his grunts fill the room.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking tight.” He groans, his voice thick with lust.

“Oh, god, Harry.” You moan. The sound of skin slapping skin and the scent of sex fills the air. He reaches around and starts rubbing your clit, and the pleasure is almost too much for you to handle. He thrusts his hips, filling you completely.

“Come for me again, love.” He commands.

“Yes, Harry, fuck.” You cry out, your walls tightening around his cock. You know that anyone passing by your apartment would definitely hear the sounds of sex, but you don't care. The only thing that matters is the feeling of him inside you.

You come undone once more, and he fucks you through your orgasm. He moans, his thrusts becoming erratic. You turn him on so much, he never wants to stop fucking you. His cock slides out of you and he pulls you back up, turning you around to face him.

“I want you to ride me, love.” He growls, his voice deep and rough. You straddle him, your wetness coating his cock. He positions himself at your entrance and you slide down, moaning as he fills you again. You start moving, your hips rocking against his.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He moans, and his hands grip your hips, guiding you. Your pace quickens and you can feel yourself getting close again. You look at him and his eyes are filled with lust and desire, and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.

Harry's lips crash into yours and his hands tangle in your hair. He breaks the kiss and his mouth moves to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. You let out a string of curses and he groans against your neck. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He nibbles and sucks on it, and his tongue swirls around it.

“Fuck, Harry.” You moan.

“Do you like that, love?” He asks, looking up at you with dark eyes.

“Yes, fuck, yes.” You reply, your voice wavering.

He continues his assault on your breasts, switching from one to the other. Your breathing is heavy and you can feel the pressure building again.

“Harry, I'm so close.” You breathe.

“Me too, baby. Come for me.” He growls, his fingers rubbing your clit. The combination of his cock filling you his mouth on your nipples and his fingers stroking your clit sends you over the edge, and you scream his name, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Your walls clench around his cock and he loses it, his thrusts become more erratic, and his breathing is laboured. He moans your name, and the sound is like music to your ears. He comes hard, and his cock pulses inside you.

You both collapse, breathing heavily. Your heart is racing and you can't believe what just happened. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You lie there in his arms, trying to catch your breath, the scent of sex and sweat filling the air.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Harry says, breaking the silence. “That was incredible.”

“Mhm, you're far better than your books.”

“Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it.” He chuckles. You snuggle into his arms, and he holds you tight. You've never felt so safe and secure in someone's arms, and you know that you're already falling for him.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Five.

Thank you everyone for your kind praise of the last chapter! I appreciate you all so much :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,554

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

“God, you are so fuckin’ beautiful, doll, but if you don’t look even prettier when you’re takin’ a pounding. God damn,” he cussed, hands gripped onto her thighs as he held her spread before him, cock driving into her like a jackhammer. Now he’d gotten over his fear that anything even bordering on brutal would shatter his pretty little creature like she was heirloom glass, he was very, very much enjoying letting the beast in his nature run wild.  

After all, she had demanded he fuck her harder, reducing his blood to pure magma.  

As for Emily... not words existed. Merely static where her thoughts once resided, mouth dropped open, crying out as her lover fucked her so hard, she was sure he was attempting to actually go through her. The sexual finesse, the dirty talk, the way he fed her his thumb while grasping her jaw, slowing the savage onslaught of his thick cock as he leaned to her, kissing her neck sumptuously. God... it was both too much and not enough, if such a juxtapose could exist. 

His mouth met hers, kisses of filthy indulgence shared, hand still clutching her jaw as he drove himself into her hard, but slow, oh so blindingly slow. He kissed every little sob that fell from her pretty mouth, the twitch of her slick walls around him sending a flare over his nerves, willing himself not to give in to it. He didn’t, hanging onto his own release until she shattered beneath him, both lying there in a state of blissed out contentment in the aftermath.  

“You have all those books over there,” she began a while later, lying on her side as she gestured to the packed-out bookshelf across the apartment, “but I never see you reading any of them.” 

“Don’t get much chance to these days,” he confessed, his hand wandering over the curve of her ass. He’d never seen an ass that perfect in all his damned life. “All my good stuff is at my house upstate, anyways. Gotta small library up there.” 

“Yeah? Wow, that’s my dream, to stay in one place long enough that I can accumulate books, rather than sitting in a library for hours on end while I read,” she revealed, Luca looking interested. 

“Who do you enjoy reading, hm?” he asked, fingers skimming back and forth over the curve of her waist and hip.  

She took only a second to ponder. “Edith Wharton, the Brontë’s, Anton Chekov, Franz Kafka. God, I love Kafka. I get giddy on Kafka!” she enthused, watching his eyebrows rise significantly. 

“Chekov and Kafka? Really?” 

Her mouth dropped open, poking the centre of his chest with her index finger. “Hey, enough with this face of disbelief!” 

“No, no, cara mia,” he was quick to speak, shaking his head. “No disbelief, just surprise. Kafka is my favourite author, yet I can’t think of a single other woman I have ever met who has even heard of him, let alone read his work.” He hummed a chuckle, his eyebrows fluttering. “Then again, the kinda broads I meet ain’t exactly bookworms.” 

Her eye roll displayed a little bit of attitude he’d never witnessed in her before, and it made him chuckle, reaching to stroke the side of her neck. “Do I detect judgement there, Miss. Mortensen?” 

She looked a little uncomfortable for a second before raising her eyebrows, her mouth twisting into a lopsided grin. “I suppose, but that’s only because I don’t know how people can’t find reading somebody else’s words fascinating, especially when there’s so much affinity to be found with them.” 

“Gimme an example,” he requested, curling a piece of her hair around his middle finger.  

“Kafka once said, ‘I am free, and that is why I am lost.’ It resounded with me so much, after leaving my mother and San Francisco behind. I finally felt free, but so lost for so long, not rooting myself anywhere. Moreso, never finding a place or a person to root myself with,” she spoke, her hand drifting up to cup his face, taking a brave breath. “Until I found you.”  

The breadth of his smile made butterflies burst in her tummy, Luca covering her hand with his, turning his head to kiss her palm. “Let your roots wrap around mine all you want.” 

“Like two vines curling together?”  

“Mmm,” he hummed, leaning to kiss her, “just like that.” Peeling back the protective layers that surrounded her, he was finding a woman who seldom let people see what lay beneath. Quiet still, but so, so intelligent. Well-read and thoughtful, his absolute dream. He had yearned for a woman both of beauty and the intellect to discuss literature.  

Why oh why had he wasted his time with whores?  

He knew why, actually. Since he’d hammered in the final nail into the coffin that was his marriage, he had not sought women for permanence, merely a means to an end. And now here she was, the permanence he hadn’t been searching for at all, but who he now couldn’t see himself letting go of without a fight. 

“So, tell me more about these.” Her hand wandered from his chest, over to the tattoos upon his arms, a seemingly random, haphazard collection of black brandings that marked his olive toned flesh. 

“Whaddya wanna know?” he asked, his eyes following where her finger trailed down to his inner elbow.  

“What does omerta mean?” 

“The code of silence. It’s a Sicilian thing.” 

She arched an eyebrow. “You mean a mafia thing?” 

Laughing softly through his nose, he nodded. “Yeah, honey. A mafia thing. It’s a code of honour as well as silence. Very big in my world, omerta.”  

“And the snake?” she then asked, her finger tracing the swirl of the viper upon his inner forearm. 

“No reason, I just liked it.” 

Good enough reason as any, she thought, to have a certain pattern of ink etched into your flesh for the rest of your life. Her finger continued to glide, reaching his hand and swirling over the number six. “This?” 

“It’s my lucky number, solidified even more lately. I met you on the sixth, and your birthday is on the sixth, too. The sixth of...” he trailed off, frowning with thought. 

“The sixth of?” she repeated, winding her hand around.  

He looked pained, face creasing as he wracked his brain. “The sixth of one of the months of the year.”  

She couldn’t help but fall apart laughing, Luca grumbling softly. “Hey, it’s eleven thirty in the morning and I already blew my load twice. You have to forgive a fella for havin’ a scrambled-up brain.”  

“Okay, you’re forgiven. April, by the way.” Leaning in, she kissed his jaw a couple of times, resting her head down on his chest, her fingers gently tickling over the dark hair. “How long do I have you here for today, then?” 

“As long as you like. That call I made earlier, it was me tellin’ Angelo to handle everything ‘cuz I knew I’d be busy with somethin’ or another. Glad it was the way I wasn’t expecting to be.”  

“You weren’t?” 

“Nah, not just yet, I wasn’t. Thought I’d have to deal with why you suddenly stared acting like a rabbit caught in headlights,” he told her, fingers slowly stroking up and down her arm. “Why was that?” 

“I’ll tell you another time.” 

Oh, she should be so lucky. “Tell me now.” 

“No.”  

“Why?” 

“Because it’s embarrassing,” she muffled, hiding her face. 

“Can’t hide behind your hair forever,” he snorted, popping his shoulder against her face to make her look up at him. 

“No, but I can burrow.” Detangling herself from his embrace, she grabbed the pillows, piling them atop her head and then pointing. “See? Successful burrowing,” she muffled, making him laugh quietly.  

He grabbed the pillows, throwing them off and reaching an arm beneath her, hauling her body atop his. “Successful unearthing. Now, tell me.” She made a small noise of discomfort. “Emily.”  

“I had a sex dream, alright? Are you happy now, mortifying it out of me?” 

He laughed again, louder this time. “Sweetheart, when my tongue has been pushed right up in your holiest of holes, I think we’re past embarrassment, ain’t we?” 

Her concession came at the expense of a very pink face. “Hmm, suppose you’re right.” 

“Was I as good in your dream as I am in reality?” 

Of course, he’d ask that. “It was more of a combined effort.” 

The grin he fixed her with had her blushing, hiding her face against his chest. “I demand to be shown.”  

Just then, her stomach gurgled. Loudly. “And I think my belly demands to be fed.” Save by the rumble. Phew.  

“You wanna eat?” he asked. “I can make that happen for ya. Whatcha want?” 

Her head shot up from his chest, her eyebrow arching. “Are you going to cook?” 

“I am not,” he chuckled, “Luca Changretta does not cook. He burns. Seriously, I decided to try and be a good husband one morning, when Filomena was days away from giving birth to Milania. Attempted to make her breakfast and started a small fire.”  

“Not a good cook, huh?” she laughed, watching him grimace slightly as he shook his head. “Tell me, what are you good at?”  

He eyes slowly found hers, grinning widely before sticking his tongue out and giving it a very rapid wiggle.  

“Yeah, I think I might know that already, Luca!” she snorted with soft sarcasm, moving to lie at his side again. “What else?” 

“I’m a mean shot,” he began, watching her widen her eyes. 

“I think that’s standard for a successful wiseguy.”  

“I did mean animals opposed to people. But yeah, them too,” he informed her, linking his fingers through hers and squeezing her hand. “I hunt when I’m up at my place in the Catskills. Always manage to get a clean head shot.”  

“What else?” 

“I’ve been told I’m a good listener. I prefer listening to talking. Trust me, this here, this is real fuckin’ chatty for me,” he spoke, pointing between them. She had noticed that the usually quite verbally concise man had indulged a little more than he normally would. It made her belly tingle. And then it rumbled, quite audibly.  

He looked down, running a fingertip around her navel. “So, food?”  

“Pastrami and Swiss on white bread, with lots of sauerkraut and mustard, please.”  

He kissed her head, detangling himself. “Comin’ right up, doll.” While he walked to the telephone, she admired his form, chiselled back, a few scratches here and there from her nails, more tattoos as well. Oh, and the most perfectly pert ass in existence.  

He made a call to the deli just up the block, putting in their order for the shop boy to bring down on his pushbike, her request followed by something loaded with mozzarella and assorted deli meats for himself, returning to the bed as soon as he’d hung up.  

“Fifteen minutes. Just enough time for you to give me a live rendition of your dream.” 

She should have known that he wouldn’t let it go. “I will, one day. When you’ve forgotten about it.”  

He raised en eyebrow, shaking his head. “I’m a guy, darlin’. Trust me, we don’t forget things like that. Ever.” 

Leaning to him, she tickled his cupid’s bow with the tip of her tongue, squeaking when he rapidly, but gently moved to bite it. “I’m still not showing you now.”  

She got up to fetch herself a water, leaving him grumbling in mild agitation in her wake. Once they’d eaten, they returned to the bed, lying there talking for much of the afternoon in between bouts of sex that only got even steamier than the session before. They did finally make it out of bed, Luca taking her out for dinner in the city before they arrived back at Bella Vita.  

While he went for a sit and a drink with his buddies, Angelo and Donny raising their glasses to her, she slid into a seat at the bar, being greeted with a cheek kiss from Maggie.  

“So, I hear somebody was enjoyin’ herself with the big boss this morning, huh?” she grinned, her red lips curving to reveal a huge, beautiful grin. “I’d say tell me how you like his cock, but baby love, I fuckin’ heard!”  

Emily’s eyes widened in an instant, reaching for the glass of vodka rocks she was furnished with, her hand missing the receptacle a few times before Maggie steered it into place. “Oh my god, how? I didn’t think I was that loud?” 

Pointing up and to the side, the barmaid’s grin continued to widen. “Air vent, sugar. Trust me, when the music ain’t blastin’ out down here, the sound travels well. I ain’t even ashamed to admit it got me all hot in my undies, hearin’ you two goin’ at it!”  

Her booming laugh filled the space at Emily hiding her face in her hands, reaching to squeeze her shoulders. “Next time you get that hot with ya man, at least let me come up and watch, eh?” 

“Jesus, Maggie!” she cried, her friend reaching to pinch her cheek playfully.  

“Come on, miss lady!” she laughed, pouring out a measure of rum for a waiting patron, sliding the glass over to him. “You’re the boss’s gal now, you gotta carry yourself like you are. No more wallflower behaviour. Lift that pretty chin, ‘cuz round these parts, you’re the fuckin’ queen now, darl. Everybody knows it, therefore so should you.”  

The words absorbed like ink to blotting paper, Emily sitting up a little straighter, casting her glance around the room. She’d walked in there with her hand in Luca’s, and the patrons had noticed. The way they viewed her, it was with nothing but respect from the men, and envy from the women. She wasn’t nobody’s girl any longer, elevated to the most coveted position in that particular corner of Brooklyn.  

She turned back to an expectant Maggie, paused in a lull, waiting for her thoughts on the observation. Her eyebrow rose, lifting her chin, remembering. Remembering the way he’d barely let her go for even a second all day, the way he’d praised and lavished her, the way the words cara mia had rolled so effortlessly off his tongue... the way his eyes had shone like peridot wildfire when he came for her.  

“Hm,” she hummed, sipping her drink. “I guess I am, and honey...” Leaning close, she made a motion with her finger for her friend to lean closer, Maggie obliging, “...you should see how glorious my throne is.”  

A very mischievous wink was delivered, and her mouth fell open, squealing as she drummed her hands repeatedly off the bar, pointing at Emily with both forefingers. “And that is how you be a queen, my gal!”  

They shared laughter, Maggie counting down the minutes to her break, taking Emily with her when she went out back to the small rear alleyway behind the speakeasy, where it was quiet and free of people. Well, as quiet as Brooklyn could get on a Friday night.  

“There is a way you could help me become queenlier, you know, Maggie,” she spoke, her friend lighting herself a cigarette, offering the case. “Ah, why not?” Cigarettes were a rare treat she couldn’t usually afford. Pulling one out, the redhead offered her light, snapping the lighter shut again.  

“Ahhh, my regal acolyte comes to the oracle for her sage advice,” she nodded, blowing smoke down her nose. “Whatcha need help with?”  

“Can I be blunt?” 

“Are you gonna blush while you do it?” she couldn’t help but tease. 

“Probably,” Emily confessed, taking a drag on her cigarette. “I need tips. Blowjob tips. Luca is nothing short of giving – and very talented – when it comes to pleasing me with his mouth, but I’m just so stunted by inexperience that I don’t want to shame myself by trying to return the favour when I have no real clue what I’m doing.”  

Maggie began nodding rapidly, pointing her cigarette at her. “Now this, sistah, this is my mother fucking forte! Oh, you have come to exactly the right place, and please do feel free to mention I was the one who taught you to suck dick like a champion. I could do with a pay bump.” They shared giggles, Maggie continuing. “Alright, so first, you gotta make like his manhood is the most amazing thing on god’s green earth, like there ain’t nothin’ you want in your mouth more.” 

“I’m there already,” she confirmed, smirking. “Continue.”  

“Alright, so with your technique, think popsicle. Don’t go at it all guns blazin’ to begin with, give him a few strokes with your hand, couple’a licks over the head a few times, which you’ve probably noticed already is the most sensitive part of a cock.” A nod confirmed that such had indeed been noted. “Few little sucks, and I cannot stress this enough, get his dick real fuckin’ wet. It’ll feel amazing for him, think mimicking your pussy in terms of wetness.” 

“So yeah, keep teasing, taking a little more of him back, go an inch at a time, and for the love of all things holy, cover your teeth. I mean, some guys like a gentle graze, so if he does, he’ll probably tell ya. Keep ‘em away until you know for sure, though. Tease the fuck outta him with your tongue, don’t give him too much at once, and yeah, just build on it. Speed up the closer he gets, then once he’s come, slow it down, be gentler.” 

Nodding rapidly at her own advice, she was all done until something popped into her brain, her eyes widening as she flapped her hand. “Oh, just a warning, too. If you let him come in your mouth, be warned. Cum ain’t exactly tasty, so be prepared! He don’t smoke no more, though, so you have that goin’ for ya. Always tastes like salty bleach when they smoke, for some reason.”  

“Gotcha, I think I can remember all that. And the warning? Appreciated.”  

“Don’t panic about it, though. I mean, it don’t taste the best, but shit, darl. It’s fuckin’ sexy to have a guy blow right in your mouth, and he’ll love ya for it if you swallow. All men do.”  

Armed with her new information, Emily made rapid mental notes, feeling herself growing aroused at the mere thought of having his cock in her mouth. She and Maggie walked back in, returning to the bar, unable to stop herself from swinging her ass as she walked, feeling her man’s eyes right upon her, turning to wink at him.  

The conversation at his table was much, much more concise over the matter, but conveyed all it needed to.  

“Oh, so she finally let you in there, huh, cuz?” Angelo chirped, waving to Emily before grinning at Luca.  

He sipped his whiskey, enjoying the buzz. “A gentleman never tells.” 

His statement earned a snort. “Yeah? I’ve heard all about your exploits, amico. You ain’t no goddamned gentleman!” he laughed, leaning closer. “So, how many times you jump her today, huh?” 

“Yeah, I might not be,” Luca began, putting a fresh toothpick between his teeth, “but that gal over there is my fuckin’ lady, and you don’t get to hear shit.” He then paused, rolling his tongue around the inside of his cheek, a devilish grin beginning to widen his mouth. “Four.”  

“You horny bastard.” 

Luca raised his eyebrows, sinking his drink. “That’s what she called me, too, cugino. Now, cousin or not, you talk about my gal like that again and I’ll crack your teeth out your goddamned jaw.” Angelo knew he was only half joking, Luca winking as he rose and left the table, gliding across the room and over to the bar.  

Emily felt his hand touch against her bare upper back, sliding down at he leaned in close. “Havin’ a good night, doll?” 

It could stand to be better. “I am, but I think I need you to take me back upstairs.” Waving to Maggie, she sank her drink and slid from the stool, fingernail running along his jaw before she sauntered off in the direction of the heavy door. It was surprising to nobody more than her, how different a woman she was walking through it than she’d been two weeks before, carried through by Luca a bloodied and battered mess.  

She could feel him behind her, her back tingling from his presence, sliding her feet from her shoes and her stockings from her legs once she reached the top of the stairs, moving to the couch and sitting down. “Get over here, handsome.”  

“Oh, look at this now, making her demands of me,” he drawled, walking over to her all the same, halting once he was right in front of where she sat. “And what can I do ya for, now I’m here, huh?” 

Without a single word, she stood, pushing the jacket from his shoulders, his waistcoat, tie and shirt following before sitting back down again, her gaze never leaving his while undoing his pants. “Stand there and enjoy, is what you can do.”  

He had a distinct feeling he was about to do just that. 

[iceprincessviviane]

Last will. - Heritage series prologue.

Paring: poly!BTS (Demons) x Female!Shy!Skinny!Chosen!Reader

Type: dark romance, horror au, soulmate au, poly relationship, slowburn, yandere.

Warnings: Horror themes, some religion themes (mostly demonic), gore, blood, manipulation, witchcraft, magic themes, death (side characters), mentionings of forced marriage, mentioning about past, loss, yandere, obsessive, possessive, swearing, low self-esteem,dealing with grief, sugestive content and silly jokes created by me. (If there is more to add let me know.)

Next chapter.

Summary: When old, lonely lady is dying, some mysteries are revealed, which none is expecting. Someone is going to take advantage of that for sure.

Author's note: It was around Halloween and I was getting inspired and decided to try something in good, old scary mood. I might be not good at it, so sorry! And it's based kinda of my strange dream. Action is supposed to be in northen Canada in make up city, this is how it was in my dream so I will let it stay. Sorry if that has no logic at all. Dream was really strange and first chapters are mostly based on that, rest it just written by me as continuation. Introduction is long and whole mansion is based on one from Tonb Raider series (Legend/Underworld). English isn't my first language so sorry for all mistakes.

Dedication for the @aris-ink meance (angel) which supporter me all the way along and mostly I'm posting because she gave me a wings 💖

MINORS DNI

In modern office was sitting very old and elegant lady. She had old-fashioned dress and her white hair were in tight bun. Fine jewllery was on her neck, same was for wrist and ears. The stones were shinging in light of the lamp. She sat opposite young notary, which was writing somethine with pen on his documents. Dame was visibly getting impatient, her assistant was making meaningful glances at worker, but he didn't even noticed. After few minutes she sighed and tapped her emaciated on light brown desk.

"I am sorry ma'am, it has to be perfect."

She rolled her eyes and looked around. Office was big and bright, outside was raining heavy, wall of water and sometimes the sky was pierced by thunder. There was computer on the other side of the desk and big bookshelf filled by documents and books about the law. On the wall was hanging put some awards and certificates which notary finished successfuly.

"My boy, I am sorry to interrupting you, but in fact I don't have much time. I am going to die very soon and I need to do a lot." Old lady said bitterly.

"I am sorry ma'am." He gave her sympathetic smile and put down pen. "I have ended your last will as you wished."

Notary handed her document. She read it with little frown. It was strange for her, but the time has come and she had to take care of last things in this world.

"I have concated the curator of museum you have mentioned. He is thrilled by your proposition and agreed to all your terms."

"I am glad then. I hope this will do good for next generations." Old lady smiled warmly.

"But there is one problem. Being specific about the mansion in Grand Hillsam." Man said looking at the name of the town.

Immediately old lady's glance became cold and suspicious. "What about it?"

"I have found that in fact it's part of Canadian heritage and it was just under your custody ma'am. It can't be given to any museum or anyone unless the government agree or the owner can't take care of it. I have tried to contact the office in Grand Hillsam and they have sent me to someone higher."

Old lady scoffed and waved her head with annoying expression. She tapped desk again, looked like wanting to light a cigarette.

"But they have stated that, after your death it will become clear what will happen to the mansion. It can't be made into museum if it's not proven that mansion would be left all alone."

"But I wanted to avoid passing it to anyone. That's why I wanted to make museum there and give all historical stuff away as gifts."

"They are very thankful, but your family last will is above that. You were not living there in fact, only someone who lives there can decide about mansion." Young man sighed taking out some documents. "I have searched it very carefuly, but can't do anything about that."

"That's bullshit." She cursed not like a lady. "I have paying all the bills and sending money to take some care of this mansion. I just didn't want to live there." She frowned.

"And as your family stated, only person who lives there can decided to such things as selling or giving up the mansion. After your death your family and far family will be informed about it. If they won't be able to take care of it, it will be made into museum." Notary said shrugging with helplessness.

"But I have no family. That's why I am giving away the money and things."

"Well... that's not true ma'am... the office searched through documents as did I. You have a very distant family, here in Europe."

"But they have been thrown out of my lineage almost three hundred years ago. The testement didn't include them in any case."

"Well... the office in Canada have stated that unless your famil won't care about mansion or simply can't because of money, then yes it will be made into museum."

Old lady sighed slowly, but then nodded. "If it's all, please let me sign it and let's end this farse."

Soon notary handed her all necessary documents. She signed them with diligence. They have left office and her assistant helped her by softly holding arm. He was middle age man, who served her long time. When they were in the car, driver almost immediately pulled into driveway.

"Damnit, it was so close to get rid of this stupid mansion and it's secrets. I am sure they have had their word in this." She said staring at the window and terrible weather.

"So what now? Your distant family will be called to Grand Hillsam that's for sure." Assistant said with worrying tone.

"I will make sure, that they won't want to stay there and will be protected. I need to be at home as fast as possible."

}*{

It was dark outside and was raining almost all time. Week has passed since old lady was in the office. Now she was lying at bed, weak and in fact annoyed. She lighted a cigarette and took a deep breath. Her assistant just left bedroom. It was quite big one, with canopy bed, balcony, big wardrobe and high bookshelf.

"You shouldn't be smoking." Happy voice said with concern.

"I am dying, I can do whatever I want." Old lady's words were horase. "I don't care how I am going to die, I am going to enjoy life till my last breath."

"You are still the same." Green eyes flashed in dim room, just on the bookshelf.

Small, dark as night cat hopped on the floor and made it's way to the bed.

"Thank's God, I was thinking that Harry was making you suspicious." Old lady said bitterly.

"It was hard to make my way here and this form." Cat said and stopped near the bed, that lady could see him.

"I need your owner'a help." She confessed.

"We know. That is why I am here, but don't know the details."

"I wanted to give up the mansion. To get rid of it, make family free. But of course they have stepped in." Old lady frowned with disgust.

"Well it was sure, that it won't be so easy."

"Officials said that until my last family won't be proven that don't want to take care of the mansion or simply can't take care, because of money, there is no way of making of it museum."

"So they even messed with office." Cat said perking it's ears.

"Yes. There is a threat, that all will start again. I have no time to meet my distant family and tell them about our messed up past. Pretty sure that they won't believe me anyway. So you will have to take care of that. They can't stay there and they have to give up this stupid building."

"Well it's not like when the building is gone, all the problems will disappear. The bond will be still there."

"Yes, but the ritual place will be no more, all the knowledge and items will be gone. Some spells will break. Even town might get free from dark influence. It will be hard for them go rebuild that somewhere else.

"I will go and tell my owner about everything." Cat promised and licked it paw. "But now let me keep your company."

Animal jumped on the bed and sit on old lady's lap demanding headpats. She gladly provided them till her hand stopped and last breath left her mouth. Cat purred softly making sure that her soul is safe.

}*{

Namjoon stepped out of the car and looked at building in front of him. He put his hands in the pockets. The gate was closed and strong walls were protecting land inside. It looked old and untreated. Through a gate you could see entrance to the garden and main entrance to the big manor. It was already late, moon poking from behind a clouds made a little light. He walked to the gate and put a hand in shadow place then

walk

through

the

darkness till he reached other side. He did the same with big doors and found himself inside. There was dust, unplesant smell and silence, but he remembered those halls too good. There was big, main space and staircase which were splitting up, leading up and to the left and right where were rooms. Entrance to the basement was also through this room, same as kitchen and second part of the manor. He wasn't alone.

Shadows shifted slighty and into his view came six characters. Wide smile appeard on his handsome face.

"Is thar true hyung? That's why we all are here?"Jimin asked coming closer.

"Better be that or I will throw hands." said Yoongi and leaned on pillar in opposite.

"Our man has confirmed that there is another descendant. They have rejected idea of the museum for now and have stated that it must to be prooven that descendant can't take care of mansion to make it museum." Namjoon has spoken quietly.

"So we have chance to take it all back?" Jungkook's wide and bunny smile appeard.

"Maybe, now they have to brought here this person."

"All right let's go back to the work guys." Jin stated and they all have disappeard in the blink of the eye.

[butterflydm]

wot reread: a memory of light (chapters 24-31)

spoilers for a memory of light, the final book.

Everything that Tuon thinks about her life really does sound like it's going to make Mat so miserable. All the obligatory pomp and circumstance, even in private (because you're never in private when you have slaves!). But, hey, he'll get rewarded with sex every time he saves Tuon's life, so who needs happiness? (/sarcasm)

Given how many truths about the Seanchan have been withheld from Mat in order to get him to this point, I wonder how many of those truths it would take for him to abandon ship?

Note: I am going to be questioning and interrogating Mat's actions, words, and behaviors a LOT going forward and not taking much at face value. And that kinda extends to people talking about him: what do they know and believe about him, etc? Whose PoV are we in when certain things are said or revealed, etc? This is mostly for two reasons: a. I am sussing out how much wiggle room there is for writing fic about Mat in this time period and b. I want to try to not make assumptions based on my first thoughts when I'm reading each PoV.

2. Beslan says that Mat has changed and "I don't know what to make of him any more." Beslan is all-in on the slavers now, which makes him a very great disappointment to me. I guess we can't be that surprised. He enabled his mom being a serial rapist, so I guess it shouldn't be a shock that he's willing to enable slavery as well. What Beslan says about Mat is... hmm. How well did Beslan ever know Mat, I guess is the question that immediately springs to mind. Beslan was the son of Mat's rapist, who allowed that his mom was maybe going too far with Mat but still was basically a momma's boy despite the rape. And the last time Mat saw Beslan, he was a revolutionary who was willing to stand up against the Seanchan even when his mother was not, so I suspect that he would also not be certain what to make of you, Beslan. Honestly, given that Beslan's last experience of Mat was "wants to escape Ebou Dar no matter what", the most surprising thing for him should be that Mat voluntarily returned to Ebou Dar.

But everything that Tuon thinks here about how Beslan and the Altaran people have been "properly tamed" does give me that gross feeling that she (and many of the Darkfriends in the series) gives me in her PoV chapters. If Mat could actually see her thought processes, all his fantasies about how she's Not Like the Other Seanchan would go up in smoke.

3. Selucia slightly shades Tuon on how she hasn't broken Mat to fully proper behavior yet (he's cursing at some news they've received) and Tuon immediately decides that she needs a new Truthspeaker so that Selucia can go back to being only her Voice (and not speak any opinions that aren't exactly your own, Tuon?).

An Empress must be "crafty", "strong", and "skilled" to sit on the Crystal Throne, Tuon thinks.

Ah, I guess that's why she died pretty quickly in Aviendha's alternate future. Tuon doesn't have any of those qualities. It is interesting to think about how Tuon pumps herself here up with an impossible goal: that she be strong enough to live forever (as the Empress is meant to do and yet how every single Empress has failed to do) so that she can bring 'order' to the world. Just as Fortuona is not living up to the fictional Tuon in Mat's head, she can't possibly live up to the Empress that she believes that she needs to be.

There really are hints, here and there, of the interesting character that Tuon could have been. She just needed so much more character work. I do think she's been more interesting under Sanderson so far, though, at least than she was in CoT & KoD.

4. At this moment in time, Tuon is regretting her marriage. Mat's fancy Seanchan uniform keeps snagging on everything that he passes and her other generals find him baffling. She married "chaos itself". This feels like another place where we're being told one thing and shown another. What has Mat actually DONE that is chaotic to Tuon's plans? He saved her life and advised that she not be stupid enough to actively try to sabotage Rand saving the world, but he didn't challenge her on anything or fight her on anything.

This really does show the all-or-nothing attitude of the Seanchan: Mat has bent so much to accommodate Tuon that he's practically unrecognizable to who he used to be but that's still not enough for her. Nothing but complete and eternal submission is enough for her. He can do everything she asks but if he doesn't have the right attitude about it, then she's still unhappy with him.

5. Oh, "the Prince of Ravens" thinks that they're joining the battle too late? MAYBE he shouldn't have deserted on the eve of the fucking Last Battle then? Sanderson suddenly inserting a feeling of urgency in Mat about getting to the Last Battle feels so ridiculous. Mat didn't give a shit about the Last Battle a couple of chapters ago. He ran away so that he could have some drinks in slaver town. The Last Battle has been happening for at least a week at this point.

Mat being someone who is creating urgency and rushing would make so much more sense if he'd gone to the Seanchan as a negotiator and not as a deserter.

We do get confirmation here that Mat is now the second-highest ranking member of the High Blood, after Tuon herself. And the mere fact that Tuon thinks here that he would "never be a rival" makes me feel like narrative irony would have insisted on him being the one who topples her from her throne.

6. This is when Tuon renames Mat as "bringer of destruction" (aka Knotai aka I am not using that name in this reread ever again). Mat deciding that he likes being dubbed a "bringer of destruction" is another thing that feels bizarrely out of character but I will note that this is all in Tuon PoV, so we don't know how Mat actually feels about the name (I'm pretty sure he doesn't start calling himself that in his head at any point). And we've seen that Tuon has a very difficult time reading Mat, so if he was giving off any tells that he was lying, she would certainly never pick up on it. She glares at him after the renaming and wills him not to argue with it, so his response might be Mat picking up on her cues and responding.

"The Pattern had placed [Mat] before her, had shoved him into her arms." It sure fucking did and it was so incredibly annoying to read.

Tuon also does (internally) note here that Rand was 100% correct about how fragile her rule here is.

Haha, after Selucia uses their handtalk to call Tuon out on the risks she's taking, Tuon thinks again that she needs to replace Selucia as a Truthspeaker so that Selucia can go back to being a good little parrot and stop having opinions (this is a mild paraphrase of her thoughts).

7. Ah, this moment is in Tuon's PoV but it actually does still manage to be pretty clear exactly how much she is disappointing Mat when she considers the idea of going back on her word and swooping down on the Aes Sedai to capture them all as damane rather than going to aid them as allies. That's the moment of Actual Fortuona failing to live up to the Fictional Tuon in Mat's head that I was remembering. Back during either TGS or ToM, Mat realizes that it was likely that Tuon didn't stay in CoT & KoD because she was being honorable and keeping her word but instead was staying because of the prophecy about him she'd gotten, but he kinda just ignored the implications of that realization.

The mere fact that Tuon considers the idea of breaking her word here would remind Mat that her word is meaningless (and Mat has developed, as we have established, a fey-like obsession with keeping his word). It is interesting how Tuon thinks of herself as the embodiment of order and yet so easily considers throwing away a treaty and going back on her word; yet she considers Mat the embodiment of chaos when he does his best to always live by his word no matter what the personal cost. Mat probably would push it away again here (she does make the right choice when it comes down to it) but it's another place where Actual Fortuona would be a disappointment when compared to Fictional Tuon in Mat's head.

Ultimately, when Tuon decides to keep her word, it isn't out of honor but due to the omens telling her to bet on Mat.

I will note at this point in time that Mat is still being informal and using "Tuon" freely.

8. We get a glimpse of how pressed things are on Lan's part of the battlefield before shifting over to Elayne's. Birgitte tries to keep Elayne in the command tent and Elayne finally snaps, telling her that if Birgitte can't follow her orders like all the other soldiers are willing to do, then she will release their bond. I'm sure Elayne gets hate for this, because she gets hate for everything, but I found it very cathartic after how much Birgitte has been getting on my nerves in this book. And Elayne's right that she's more useful out there doing things -- she is an extremely powerful channeler. It is a waste of her talents for her to sit in a tent.

9. Hmm, yeah, as Rand enters Shayol Ghul itself, he notes that time is affecting him differently. He can tell that one of the women that he's bonded to is in pain but he can't tell who it is and he worries over Elayne and Aviendha.

Though the knife worked to shield Rand from the Dark One's eyes, Moridin is still waiting for him there. I wonder how long he's just been kneeling there. So, yeah, before Rand can get to the Dark One, he has to take care of Moridin.

Anyway, we learned in Siuan's PoV just before this that Min was sent to the Aes Sedai camp with the message "The Seanchan fight the Shadow." You know, I like that message because it doesn't overpromise anything and it doesn't set up expectations that the Seanchan won't be absolute douchebags, as they certainly will be.

10. Luc Mantear and Isam Mandragoran's story as Slayer really could have been heartbreaking and fascinating if Jordan had ever actually leaned into the implications of it. They're both essentially collateral damage -- Isam was left behind when the Blight swallowed up Malkier; Luc was sent off into the Blight to 'seek glory' in order to help wedge an opening for the Mantears to be pushed off the throne of Andor. But the books never explore that.

As it is, Slayer is just... this disconnected assassin who shows up once in a blue moon, and there's not really any substance there to hook onto.

After a... really long battle involving Slayer and the red-veiled Aiel channelers, Perrin fails to kill Slayer and Slayer ends up escaping. Lanfear shows up to heal Perrin and she continues to seem vaguely irritated that she's interacting with him ("You can be such a child"). He sets the dreamspike up inside the cavern to protect Rand and asks the wolves to guard the outside of the cavern (this is all in TAR).

11. Egwene feels so gross as she heads towards the meeting that she is about to have with the Seanchan, because she knows that the Seanchan fighting means damane fighting, which means forcing slaves into battle.

Tuon sits on her mobile throne, with a train being held by eight slaves in transparent robes. Literally every time Tuon's lifestyle is described, it just sounds like something that is going to make Mat so incredibly miserable.

lol, the narrative tries to convince us that Tuon is "calculating" and "discerning" through Egwene's description of her eyes. I've been in the girl's head. I'll grant you "manipulative" and "can spot an obvious clue when it's shoved under her nose" but that's as far as I'll go. Egwene, you were absolutely right when you assumed that Tuon would be coddled and spoiled. I speak as someone who was forced through two long books of "a brat goes on a circus tour and throws several tantrums".

12. Anyway, both Egwene and Tuon feel contempt for each other -- Tuon for what Egwene inherently is as a person (a channeler) and Egwene for the person that Tuon chooses to be (a slaver).

Which we can see in the way they talk to each other -- Tuon calls Egwene an animal, while Egwene calls Tuon a criminal who would be at home with murderers and rapists. Tuon sees what Egwene is as the problem with her, while Egwene sees who Tuon is as the issue with her. These are not the same as each other.

13. So here on page 471 (hardback version), Mat has finally shown up to the Last Battle. Over halfway into the book! Literally makes me want to stab a wall that Mat spent half the book just fucking around with slavers instead of helping with the Last Battle. I assume we're supposed to feel like the Seanchan coming to help would be impossible without Mat, because he shamed Tuon into actually keeping her word, but there were better roads of getting Mat there that didn't make him a deserter and a defector. But I'm guessing making Mat those things was the point of his impossible teleportation logistics between books.

Just. Ugh.

14. The reason that Egwene realizes that Mat is here, among the collection of "frozen Blood in various poses" around Tuon, is because Tuon turns to berate him for not telling her that Egwene was once captured as damane and thus making her show her ass in public when she tried to argue that Egwene would understand how great being a slave is if only she'd tried it.

The question I have here is: are we supposed to believe Mat when he claims that he only didn't tell Tuon about Egwene having been captured as damane because he 'didn't think on it too long' that Egwene's captivity had happened. It's in Egwene's PoV so we are, once again, not in Mat's head. The main good quality that Mat has been able to hold onto when he's been around the Seanchan has been keeping his friends' secrets. tbh it seems more likely to me that he just didn't think it was Tuon's business (it would have been a pretty big betrayal of Egwene's privacy for him to confide that in Tuon, imo?). But, yeah, Tuon explicitly says here that she is going to have a "not pleasant" conversation with Mat about him holding back information on her. And it pretty clearly comes across as a threat.

Yikes.

15. Egwene does seem to believe here that Tuon has made a grave mistake by marrying Mat... but it's explicitly because Mat is ta'veren and Tuon has trapped herself into his web. And it amuses her because she assumes it can't mean anything good for Tuon or the Seanchan in the long term. (I mean, given that Mat has gotten hundreds of thousands of people killed on the Westlands side... yeah, it does seem like a lot of dead Seanchan are in the future on Tuon's side, and Mat might never even realize he was the enabling factor). So this is the one time that I'll allow for a character to be amused that Mat has married a slaver -- Egwene clearly sees this as Tuon having screwed herself over in the future without realizing it.

Though Mat does throw out a "may she live forever" (eyeroll), he is also still calling her 'Tuon', despite the threat of execution. And note that Mat is still of the opinion that "being ta'veren has never gotten me much" so he doesn't seem particularly happy about being married.

16. Yeah, Tuon also makes it very clear that the new clothes and the new name are deliberate attempts to separate Mat away from his past connections and make it clear that Tuon owns him now. "He serves the Seanchan, the Crystal Throne, and the Empress."

She is isolating him from his previous friends and making it clear that he belongs to her. Egwene is 100% right in her instincts that he needs to be saved from Tuon, even if Mat himself doesn't realize it (or, potentially, does realize it but isn't willing to admit to it).

17. So Egwene has to renegotiate with Tuon because now that Rand is gone, Tuon is forcing everyone to start from page one with her again, because she is a coddled and spoiled brat who wants to eke out more concessions if she can get them.

But the results of Tuon attempting to re-negotiate with Egwene now that Rand is off on his mission actually ends up backfiring on Tuon overall, I think! -- Egwene gets Tuon to agree to leave Tremalking alone (because they haven't found a compliant Sea Folk leader along the lines of Beslan to lend them legitimacy) and Egwene makes a spirited attempt to get Tuon to agree to allow women who have just been discovered but not yet collared the opportunity to choose to go the White Tower instead, leaning on Tuon's stated belief that marath'damane want to be slaves so it's no big deal to offer them the option of freedom.

But Tuon does balk at this idea, unfortunately, because she gets scared when Egwene mentions that all sul'dam are marath'damane.

18. Egwene, because she actually is discerning and calculating, picked up on what Tuon said about having trained damane herself and says, in front of the Blood, that as a sul'dam, Tuon is capable of channeling. Which Tuon already knows -- she learned this in KoD -- but she calls Egwene a liar because living in denial is the only way she can keep her power base and nothing matters more to Tuon than sucking up all the power in the world. It really does suck so much that we came up to the brink of Something Actually Happening with the Seanchan storyline and then backed away like cowards. There will never be any outriggers! Pull off the damn bandaid while the books are still running!

We don't get any mention of the Blood or the various damane & sul'dam who are around reacting to this bit of information either, but they do hear Egwene call ~their Empress~ out on being a liar, and call their Empire out on being a machine of cruelty that tortures women into fates worse than death. Will that matter? Who the fuck knows. Maybe one or two of the Blood here will feel a pang of conscience, as Leilwin née Egeanin did, and begin the slow and painful process of changing. Or maybe not.

And it is satisfying to get to see someone calling Tuon out on what a hypocrite she is -- she's all for preaching that other people should get put into the collar because they're just ~meant~ to be slaves but of course she wouldn't do it to herself. Of course she wouldn't. The idea terrifies her to death, I'm sure. Which also shows how deeply in denial she is when she claims that marath'damane just naturally want to be collared and anything other than that is a weird outlier. She knows damn well that it isn't true, because she doesn't long for the collar herself. But if she stuffs her fingers in her ears and just shouts that she's not marath'damane loudly enough, she can make herself believe it.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that Tuon did not go into this conversation looking to be publicly accused of being marath'damane herself, especially not in front of a crowd of Blood, so I feel like this one was a win for Egwene.

19. When things get to be really heated between Egwene & Tuon, with Egwene embracing the Power, Mat intercedes. What Mat says here is gross and demeaning; and I think we can all agree on that (a threat to take them over "over his knee" as if that would even be possible in this situation), but Egwene doesn't take it seriously for a second because she can see that Mat is trying to deflect her and Tuon away from each other and onto him (also frustrating though, because I really wanted something to Actually Happen with Tuon).

Also, we get a reminder that Tuon is a big ol' liar about not being jealous over Mat and other women, because she stares at where Mat's hand is touching Egwene's chest until he lowers his hand.

It also leads to another threat from Tuon about how she and Mat will have "many words" tonight, but they do both back down. But, wow, Tuon is so jealous over Egwene here, which is hilarious from the perspective of actually knowing anything about Egwene and Mat's friendship.

(sadly, I must take away Egwene's right to be amused at Mat's marriage at this point in the conversation, when she bizarrely attempts to commiserate ??? with Tuon over Mat's foul language)

Also, I will note that Egwene offers to help free him from the Seanchan, Mat doesn't tell her that he doesn't need to be freed, he tells her that he can handle it on his own. Slightly different things. Do you have an exit strategy, Mat?

Egwene is still determined to help Mat get free of the Seanchan somehow. AU idea where she does!

So, Mat leaves with Tuon and we know that she plans to have a 'not pleasant' conversation with him. So I will mark that in my notes to keep in mind the next time we see Mat.

20. As we've been going through the various battlefields, the 'great captains' have continued to make bone-headed mistakes. As we return to Elayne, it seems like this is coming to a head, as Tam confronts Bashere.

(and, no, she doesn't think about how Tam is Rand's dad and will be her kid's grandfather. Why would she, apparently?)

Tam accuses Bashere of not using scouts and falsifying scouting reports instead, saying that Bashere is to blame for the bad tactics that have happened in the recent battles. After considering how badly they've been trapped by the Shadowspawn, Elayne orders Bashere relieved from duty and has Talmanes take him away with the Band's Redarms.

And now Elayne is the one leading the army here, not Bashere.

21. Bryne gets one right for calling Tuon "that Imperial monster of a Seanchan leader". I have to admit, so far, there is less of the "let's hold hands with the Seanchan" vibe that I remembered and more "ugh, fuck, I guess we gotta hold our noses and deal with the Seanchan" vibe, at least in most chapters. It's really Mat's bizarro-world PoVs that tend to throw everything else off, and Mat has been kept ignorant of the Seanchan's recent actions under Tuon's guidance.

Bryne actually made Min do some real work by having her clerk for one of his people! Okay, Bryne has two rights. This is the first time Min has done any real work in what feels like forever. Being away from Rand is already doing her some good. But now the tent she was working in has been destroyed, so he puts her to work as a messenger (Min actually volunteers, which is definitely better than how she behaved when she was with Rand).

I kinda feel like my own opinion of the romances in WoT does hinge pretty strongly on "do they become less interesting characters when they are spending time with [love interest]?" but also on "what else do they have going on besides being [main character]'s love interest?".

ex. I liked Min best in TSR and once she starts really one-note obsessing over Rand in TFoH and onward, my interest in her nosedives because it feels like she has zero interests or drives outside of Rand. Get a hobby, Min! One that isn't about Rand (so the interest in 'philosophy' doesn't count). There's this incredibly depressing scene in, I think it was TFOH but it might have been the very start of LoC, where Elayne wants to talk to Min about something other than Rand and Min is just completely incapable of turning off the Rand-obsession long enough to think of a single good thing that doesn't revolve around Rand-Rand-Rand (the scene was not meant to be depressing but it definitely made me go 'yikes, Min, please get literally anything in your life that isn't about Rand').

22. So Min is off to the "Seanchan Empress" to tell her to send cavalry to the battlefield. Because Tuon is currently doing her best to hold back as many of her forces as she can and is negotiating them out piece-meal.

When she arrives at the Seanchan camp, Min notes how many forces are just lazing around doing nothing when they could be helping in the Last Battle. Min thinks for a moment that she wishes that she could have gone with Rand to Shayol Ghul but she has finally realized that she's only a liability to him in situations like that. Finally. I do note that apparently Rand had to 'forbid' her from going, though, so if he'd let her, she would have happily been a liability to him.

Anyway, Min was told by Rand to keep an eye on Fortuona, so I'll keep that in mind.

23. "Speak what criticism one would about the Seanchan -- and Min had a number of things she could add to that conversation -- they certainly were organized."

I really wish that Sanderson actually let Min think some of her specific criticisms about the Seanchan here rather than the narration veiling it. Because the way this is written ends up praising without critique, because the criticism remains politely unvoiced. One must always be polite about the slavers who want to dehumanize your friends and your lover, I guess.

Min was in Falme with Egwene! She actually saw Egwene being punished! She was even blamed for some of Egwene's punishments (which were all Renna's fault, of course, and not Min's) and she listened to Egwene scream and cry out in agony.

Let Min actually remember some of that in the text here rather than sweeping it all under the rug! She knows that the da'covale are slaves, for example, because she was in Falme. But instead of calling them slaves, she calls them "immodestly-dressed young women". Let Min actually have a thought here about how she disapproves of slavery! Put that on the record!

And Min thinking here that the Seanchan "couldn't possibly be as prickly as the Aiel". You... you literally listened to Egwene weeping in pain while she was being tortured for such crimes as "wanting to keep her own name" and "not wanting to be a slave" and "letting her friend visit her". wtf, Min.

24. Min has never seen Mat's hat before, but she thinks here that he has topped his new silken Seanchan outfit with his "familiar hat". I really do wonder if there was a draft of AMoL where Mat was in Merrilor, because then Min and Mat would have had a chance to meet back when Mat was in his old clothes and it would make sense for her to recognize his hat here. Because as it is, that's literally a nonsense thing for Min to think. The last time she saw Mat was at the end of book 2. Mat got his hat during book 4.

Min and Mat reunite like old buddies. They barely know each other. Let's tot up the times that they've met:

off-the-page in-between TGH and TDR, while Mat was dying from the dagger, in the handful of days that Mat was there before Verin took him & Elayne, Egwene, & Nynaeve off to the White Tower

That's it. That's the only entry. Mat didn't meet her in Baerlon -- Rand told him about her afterward. Apart from that, their only possible knowledge of each other comes from what Rand might have passed along. It is genuinely bizarre that they are behaving like old friends. They met once, almost two years ago, when one of them was dying. Mat has seen her having sex with Rand from time to time in his color swirl visions, but Min doesn't have access to that. They missed seeing each other in Caemlyn by four days, because Rand sends Mat off to Salidar before Min shows up with the embassy. They are the next best thing to complete strangers to each other, except that Mat has unintentionally seen Min naked several times.

It's Min and Perrin who have a friendship. It's funny, how Sanderson buffed up Perrin's friendships with Rand & Mat, but erased Perrin's friendship with Min. Perrin and Min, per canon, spent a lot of time talking to each other in between TGH & TDR (more time than either of them spent with Rand, who spent most of his time either brooding alone or arguing with Moiraine).

This is definitely "writing to the epilogue" convenience. But it could have made sense if Mat and Min had met back in the early chapters of the book while Mat was in Merrilor after he'd returned with Moiraine & Thom.

25. Mat tries to press Min for any new viewings about him. That's... interesting. Someone wants a new fate? I'm feeling curious about how Mat and Tuon's 'not pleasant' conversation went. Min deflects the conversation to viewings about the Seanchan general and I really don't care. Except to note that, sadly, Galgan probably won't try to kill Tuon because Mat is now the next one in the line of succession.

26. Why in the world would Min bow to Tuon? Seriously, girl, wtf. This is what I mean about how the narrative itself feels like it tiptoes around Tuon. Why would Min care so much about respecting Seanchan titles and nobility? She thinks here that she doesn't care about any other nobility but somehow the word 'Empress' triggers the worship reflex in her hindbrain or something? wtf. "It was only proper to show respect to Fortuona". Literally why? Why is the emphasis in Min's chapter about being polite to the slavers? Why is that the overriding vibe of this section -- Min's desire to make a good impression on the slavers? She didn't try this hard (or at all) with the Aiel. It's things like this that make me feel like Tuon must be ta'veren, because that feels like a thought that Tuon just plopped into Min's brain without permission.

Also, after Tuon enters literally just as Mat has mentioned her to Min, Mat then quotes "Say the name of Darkness, and his eye is upon you". Um. Yeah. So I feel like that 'not pleasant' conversation didn't go very well. (*whispers* he just compared his wife to the Dark One */whispers*).

He is also still using "Tuon" in casual conversation. And he doesn't get down on the floor, even though everyone else (including Min, for whatever reason) does.

27. And Mat is straight-up baiting Tuon in this conversation, or at least it feels that way (and using Min as a weapon while he does it). Yeah, I get the feeling that 'not pleasant' conversation went extremely poorly (was telling Tuon that Min is "the Dragon Reborn's woman" his way of trying to protect her from being poached by Tuon but Min didn't pick up on it? or was it his way of assuaging Tuon's raging jealousy issues by letting her know that Min is 'taken' and Mat doesn't plan on screwing her?)

I almost wonder if he's testing Tuon here -- seeing if her threats have any teeth? She told him that she could have him killed if he kept using the name 'Tuon' and he has not stopped, not even after the 'not pleasant' conversation. Kinda interesting that Mat seems considerably more combative with Tuon after their 'not pleasant' private discussion than he ever has been before. Wish we'd gotten to see that conversation (important moments, etc.).

Mat warns Min that Tuon snatches people up and doesn't let them go -- Min here thinks that Mat sounds "almost proud" but tbh I don't give Min much credit for her insight into people so I will take that with a grain of salt -- and yet Min (who can never resist blabbing about her viewings to everyone in sight) immediately spills about a viewing that someone is going to try to kill Tuon.

Literally why in the world would she bother to say anything? Why would she do this to herself? Rand said nothing about going out of her way to save the head slaver's life.

Min does have the habit of being swept up by people who have stronger personalities than she does -- Moiraine, then Siuan, then Rand, then Cadsuane, and now Tuon, I guess.

I do have to crack up at Min lying to herself and saying that she hasn't accidentally blabbed a viewing in years. Even if she doesn't remember blabbing Elayne's pregnancy to the entire royal palace of Caemlyn, she sleepily blabbed out Melaine's pregnancy without thinking about it too and we know she remembers that one because it was the whole basis for why the Wise Ones treated her as an ~honorary Wise One~ for, like, two books.

If Min didn't already have an established habit of constantly talking about her viewings, I would chalk this up to Tuon being ta'veren as well but... she does.

28. Tuon just goes up and touches Min's face without permission. Probably thinking about checking her teeth. Anyway, she pronounces Min a 'Doomseer' and Min has just screwed herself for the foreseeable future.

Tuon views Min as a "gift" that Mat has given her to "pay your penance" (presumably for not volunteering information about Egwene) so... yeah, that gives us some insight into the 'not pleasant' conversation. I wonder if Mat will think back to it at all in the next PoV we get from him. Probably not. I feel like I would remember that.

Tuon names Min as her new Truthspeaker, probably thrilled that she can now shove Selucia back into the box of not having any opinions that Tuon hasn't told her to have. Her emotional support slave was having too many independent thoughts and we can't have that.

Anyway, Min's viewings never really helped Rand, so she probably won't actually help Tuon much either, so I guess that's a relief.

But, yeah, not a fun situation for Min. Though I guess Mat now has company in his hellhole of a prison, so there's that.

...okay, now I've got "Two Lost Souls" from Damn Yankees in my head.

29. Just as Tam picked up on how Bashere's 'tactical mistakes' keep helping the Shadowspawn in the last section, Lan has picked out the same when it comes to his own 'great captain' -- two reserve forces were both sent to shore up the same hole in the lines, resulting in confusion and also the ranks being too thin in other places.

30. So, yeah, the set-up continues for Team Light to be forced to trust the General of the Slavers with the armies despite his recent horrible life choices. We note here that it has been 'weeks' for Lan now.

Lan countermands Agelmar's latest order, as he's realized how badly it would expose part of their army and compromise any potential retreat, so Lan has de facto taken over the army here, just as Elayne has over in the Cairhien/Caemlyn section of the battle.

31. Mat lets us know here Min has also been re-dressed in fancy Seanchan clothes. Apparently without any attempt to stick in her own clothes? She's an 'honored holy woman' per Tuon, so you would imagine means she has leverage to wear her own clothes if she wants. (of course, if it doesn't give her any leverage, then that would be useful information for the reader to have)

Anyway, we are back in Mat's head, for the first time since his disappointing reunion scene with Rand. We've seen him from the outside a few times since then -- in Tuon, Egwene, and finally Min's eyes.

Mat announces that he needs to go out and look at the actual battlefield. He thinks in his head that it's because the maps are "too simplistic" but I wonder if part of his motivation is taking a chance and getting some fresh air while his ~slaver bride~ is off doing "some empressly duty". I'm still curious about that 'not pleasant' conversation of 'many words' that they had after Tuon and Egwene met. He also yanks off part of his 'Seanchan uniform' here, leaving himself in his scarf, medallion, and breeches. He'd rather walk around shirtless than wear the fancy Seanchan duds, it seems.

(this life is going to make him so miserable)

32. Yeah, Min is now wearing a dress, with no apparent protest. Mat notes that she's pretty and then additionally notes that he needs to be careful with smiles around women now because his wife might stab him if he smiles too much at other women. So, yeah, I'm thinking part of the 'not pleasant' conversation was Tuon making her jealousy issues very very clear to Mat. But despite Mat's protests that hooking up with Rand means that Min is "practically his sister", his narration does make it clear that he's attracted to her.

(this life is going to make him so miserable)

"Mat had always considered Min on the boyish side" - you met her one time! During the foggy period of your memory when you were dying! The narration really is behaving like Perrin and Mat's friendships have been swapped around in this book -- Perrin is the one who has the stronger friendships with Rand and Elayne now; while Mat now has the stronger friendship with Min. Before this book, the opposite was true of all of those things. I guess we can assume that this is about Rand & Min screwing in the color swirls but Min would have been at least partly naked for a lot of those.

33. Anyway, Mat had his own clothes hidden away and changes into them now, when Tuon isn't here to protest, and then sneaks off to look at the battlefield before she can come back to berate him again. Lessons learned from his time with Tylin?

(Min does say here that she's tempted to strip off too, but she keeps wearing the Seanchan clothes for whatever reason)

We do also learn here the very important information that the Seanchan guards respond to bribes (Mat bribed them into keeping and hiding his clothes for him here). Though Mat also notes that it's only the free guards and not the slaves.

34. It's so sad here that Mat has to feel grateful that Tuon "understood that [Mat] needed" the foxhead medallion and returned it to him. He's grateful that he's allowed to use his own personal items and that she didn't permanently keep what she'd stolen from him.

(this life is going to make him so miserable)

...hmm. I'm going to keep an eye on the medallions. Because technically Mat has two right now (his original and a copy that Elayne made), but he hasn't mentioned the second one at all.

35. Sadly, going for Pips means that "unfortunately, someone had time to alert" Tuon that Mat was slipping away, and so she comes to confront him (so I was right about part of the reason behind him bailing on the command tent was trying to get away from Tuon).

Mat once again warns Min that it's very dangerous here: "they know how to treat a fellow, as long as they don't behead him. I'm still trying to figure out how to prevent that from happening."

Hmm, Mat gives Min the "sell" on staying with the Seanchan... he says that it would help Rand because she can attempt to mislead Tuon about her 'omens' to try to guide Tuon onto a less-awful path. I imagine that's how Mat is justifying his own choices too but we saw that when he actually had a chance to try to guide Tuon onto a better path, he froze and said nothing while Rand did all the negotiating. But Mat does make it clear here that he still disapproves of what the Seanchan are doing; he's just... sticking around and helping anyway for whatever reason.

But, yeah, "lie to Tuon to try to subtly direct her choices" being part of Mat's advice to Min is... illuminating, to be sure. Did Mat lie to/mislead Tuon during their recent 'not pleasant' private discussion?

36. Yeah, we see here very directly that Mat doesn't always mean what he says around Tuon, when he pretends to be happy that she's coming along with him to survey the battlefield while "groaning inside". This is what I was talking about back when I was questioning all of the other character's interpretations of Mat's behavior in the previous few chapters -- most of the characters in the books are not very good at reading Mat. Tuon has failed to accurately judge him on multiple occasions, Egwene will always at least partly see him as the troublemaker from her hometown, and Min barely knows him.

Also, Mat was expecting to be berated for changing his clothes but Tuon says nothing about it at this time. Hey, Min, maybe you should take the opportunity to change yours too?

It is good to see Mat attempting to push back on Tuon, even if it's on relatively minor things.

It really is the decision to make Mat a deserter that screwed his characterization over so hard in this book. If Mat had gone to Merrilor and then gone to Ebou Dar, pretty much everything would make more sense. There's only a couple of scenes so far that have 'needed' Mat to be a willing traitor in order to play out the way that they did (mostly just Egwene's shock at seeing him hanging out with the Seanchan) and almost everything else would make more sense if Mat had gone back to Ebou Dar as a negotiator on behalf of the Westlands.

37. On the minus side, we have some really weird stuff here where Mat dehumanizes one of the Seanchan generals for the crime of being a woman that he doesn't want to fuck. While Mat did start basically thinking about every woman that he met in terms of fuckability back around... A Crown of Swords, I want to say... he didn't act like 'not being fuckable' made women unpeople and he's kinda going that way here and it's super gross.

38. On her own front in the battlefield, Egwene sees a huge tactical blunder by Bryne that leaves one of their flanks wide-open to the enemy and vulnerable, and now she is also going to go question him, as it looked distinctly like he set up a trap that benefited the Shadowspawn. So that's all of the fronts except Ituralde (who is just outside of Shayol Ghul).

After questioning Agelmar, Lan suspects it is Compulsion that is behind his recent poor battle decisions, and Lan has him relieved from duty. Also, Tenobia conveniently gets killed on the battlefield and brings Faile one step closer to ruling Saldaea.

39. Back with Mat, Tuon, Min, and Selucia. Poor Selucia. She got half a book of being allowed to have her own opinions but now she's just Tuon's Voice/bodyguard again and gets to speak no words but Tuon's.

Min is obediently telling Tuon all her viewings and her interpretations of them, just like she always does when she's under the thumb of someone with a more forceful personality than her own. This is kinda why I feel like Mat's hope that she will lead Tuon onto better paths is likely not going to pan out -- because Min's viewings do not have a moral component, not that we're aware of, and she is spilling them all out indiscriminately.

And Tuon will likely continue to be her own horrible self, no matter what viewings Min has. But I guess we'll see how that relationship plays out.

Min has not only told Tuon all the viewings she had about Tuon but also her viewings about Mat, over Mat's protests. Min likes to claim that she doesn't do things like that, but wow, she does it all the time. It does feel like fandom doesn't really acknowledge that both Min & Perrin lie about themselves in their own heads just as much as Mat or Nynaeve do. Min believes that she's discreet about her viewings, when she's a blabbermouth most of the time, and Perrin believes that he thinks things through before he acts, when he's actually wildly reckless and impulsive pretty frequently.

40. It's interesting that Min and Mat greeted each other like old friends yet are now essentially working at cross-purposes -- Mat suggested to Min that ('for Rand') she mislead Tuon in order to craft a narrative that would make Tuon soften towards Aes Sedai (and also more minor things like "try to get her to stop wanting to get rid of my hat") but Min, like Galad, wants to be rigidly honest and is telling Tuon everything, not giving a care that she's telling Tuon other people's secrets (and we know she's telling real secrets, because she's now told Tuon all of Mat's old viewings that we know from before, against Mat's express wishes). So Min is essentially unintentionally teaching Mat that she is not an ally to him and that she will sell him out to Tuon if he confides in her. Which means that Mat is, once again, all alone in the middle of an enemy camp that he feels obligated to stay in (now matter how unhappy it makes him) Because Wife.

Mat and Tuon really is peak "enforced heterosexual monogamy" culture. They explicitly are married due not to their own desires but to external pressures (the prophecies) and feel obligated to stick it out even though, on Tuon's side, she feels like she has a wildly chaotic husband that she doesn't know how to control and, on Mat's side, everything about the situation is constantly making him miserable. I believe he thinks at one point (in some future chapter?) that he could be happy if it was just him and Tuon in a life far away from the Seanchan but... that really is him picturing himself and his Fictional Tuon character (not cold, not possessive, Not Like The Other Seanchan) rather than himself and Actual Fortuona. I'm sure Mat and his fake Tuon could find happiness running away from the throne, but fake Tuon doesn't exist so... yeah.

41. Mat is able to get "five minutes" by himself and rides down to talk to Perrin's slaver BFF Tylee. Much like Egwene had just realized, Mat learns here from Tylee that Bryne is making bad calls that are compromising his army.

*sigh*

Mat stuffs himself into Seanchan armor at this point. Well, he had a spine about wearing his own clothing for, like, five minutes. Maybe that's all we can hope for out of him these days. It is at least real 'on the field' armor rather than the ceremonial silk this time.

Also: Tuon's desire to constantly be keeping an eye on Mat vs Mat's desire to have some breathing room seems like a fight in their marriage that is going to reoccur a lot.

42. Anyway, Mat goes to personally take a unit out to relieve Bryne's soldiers because it looks like they've gotten very bad orders and he needs to correct them personally. I... don't have an issue with this apart from the whole "ugh, Seanchan" thing? Mat can see that the battle is going extremely poorly and wants to investigate from the inside because from what he can see, it looks like the general in charge is deliberately ordering bad tactics. That's not something that Mat can fix simply by sending contrary orders because he is not the main general of this battlefield. Bryne is. So Mat going out to take direct control of a specific part so that he can, essentially, undermine Bryne's bad orders before he goes to deal with the root of the issue makes sense because this is a time-sensitive situation.

Tylee tries to give Mat some damane slaves for the battle and he refuses.

Once again, like it did in Min's PoV, the narrative has yet another character praise the Seanchan's sense of organization while implying that the character has critiques about the Seanchan but not mentioning the specific issues that they have. Actually let Mat share his critiques about the Seanchan with the reader! Stop veiling the critiques behind "oh, I have some issues but I won't say what they are".

43. Mat is really really attracted to the enemy Sharan channeler. Until she tries to kill him but, yeah, he literally stops and stares at the channeler on the opposing side. Though that doesn't stop him from knocking her out with his spear when her weaves fail on him and he's able to get close.

*resigned sigh*

After this battle, Mat is now willing to throw damane slaves at the enemy.

Mat has also really really impressed the Ever Victorious Army. Something to keep in mind for post-canon 'Mat conducts a coup' thoughts. Between Egwene feeling like Tuon has accidentally gotten herself trapped in Mat's ta'veren web, Tuon's own "[Mat] would never be a rival" thoughts, how swiftly Mat is winning over the officers, and Mat's own words to Min about how she should craft a narrative to deceive Tuon into behaving the way she wants her to behave... there are some interesting puzzle pieces here for a post-canon "Mat deposes Tuon and takes over the Seanchan Empire" or "Mat tricks Tuon into thinking she's in charge while he's the real power in the Empire" storyline.

I really wish that Sanderson & Team Jordan hadn't made Mat a deserter at the start of the book; it really did start Mat off on such a bad foot, narratively-speaking, by weighting him so heavily on the side of the slavers without any kind of narrative justification for the choice (we still don't know how Mat got to Ebou Dar originally -- Sanderson really was like "okay, it makes no sense, so I'll just let readers fill in a reason that they can justify to themselves"). But even with that massive off-the-page weighting on the side of the slavers, Mat is listing back towards the Westlands side of things (as he has done time and time again). Over and over, Mat gets forcibly yanked over towards the Seanchan and then starts drifting away from them again (requiring another heavy-handed course-correction from the Authors).

44. Mat does change back into his "Two Rivers" coat here. ...wait, Mat's coat is a "Two Rivers" coat? When did that happen? When did Mat go back to the Two Rivers to get a coat? Or did he get it from Perrin's army? Anyway, he did change back into his own clothes after the battle.

Oh! Oh, this must be a coat that Elayne's person picked out for him (as per his request in ToM)! Elayne's person found him a Two Rivers coat? She really is magic. I love her.

Mat does realize here that the Sharan channeler that he captured is almost certainly going to end up damane. Should have just killed her.

45. Tuon is currently so pissed at Mat that she's only speaking to him through Selucia (now back in her role as Tuon's opinionless Voice). Mat notes this as a 'bad sign' but he also does keep calling her Tuon. Maybe he doesn't back down and start referring to her formally as she told him to do; maybe that was something that my memory was incorrect on, which would be nice.

"Your life is no longer your own," Tuon tells him through Selucia. I wonder if that's also part of the reason that Mat went out on the battlefield -- a way of declaring that his life is his own, even if that means potentially throwing it away.

Mat references Nynaeve here -- I'm not sure whether or not Tuon got Nynaeve's name in the conversation she had with Rand and Nynaeve back in TGS. I'll go check.

Yep, Rand says Nynaeve's name when she chastises him for trying to pretend that he doesn't care about Mat in front of Tuon. So Tuon knows that Mat is talking about a channeler here.

46. Yikes. Tuon 'gives' the Sharan channeler that Mat captured to him as his own personal damane slave. He tries to give her back to Tuon (also gross and yikes) but Tuon won't let him. Mat does refer to her as a channeler and not marath'damane but... ugh. But this is the continuation of Tuon's campaign to brainwash and integrate Mat into being fully-Seanchan, so her actions here are no surprise.

Mat is now given control of the Seanchan armies over Galgan, and they send Min back to Egwene to tell her that Bryne is helping the Shadow with how he's behaving with the army.

47. So things are incredibly dire and yet there have been no thoughts of "wow wish Mat were here to blow the Horn of Valere". It's so bizarre that everyone is just completely chill with a powerful artifact that is literally meant for the Last Battle to be just hanging out unusable!

Anyway, the Black Tower Asha'man show up here to relieve Elayne's people, who are sorely pressed.

Here's my thought: I think Sanderson was too much in love with the whole "on the very edge of being broken, the cavalry shows up" idea aka Gandalf coming to save the day at Minas Tirith. Not everything needs to be last second like that. If everything is dramatic then nothing is truly dramatic. In real life, you wouldn't wait until after the point of hope to blow the horn that brings a magic army to fight on your side. You would want to do it as soon as it looks like your own forces aren't going to be enough.

48. Min stayed dressed in all her Seanchan finery to go deliver her message to Egwene. Min's conversation with Egwene is so bizarrely tone-deaf on Min's side of things? She complains about being ~pampered~ by the Seanchan and that their rich food isn't to her taste and when Egwene ~reminds her~ that Egwene has 'enjoyed' Seanchan 'hospitality', Min is basically just "Oops, yeah, my bad, oh well, back to business."

Wow, Min's lack of empathy for the horrific trauma that she witnessed Egwene going through is kinda shocking.

For your consideration, Min in Falme:

When Min asks Egwene not to kill herself out of despair, Egwene tells her that she physically can't. That she can't use anything that she thinks of as a weapon.

She tells Min:

"A few weeks ago I considered hitting Renna over the head with that pitcher, and I could not pour wash water for three days. Once I'd thought of it that way, I not only had to stop thinking about hitting her with it, I had to convince myself I would never, under any circumstances, hit her with it before I could touch it again. She knew what had happened, told me what I had to do, and would not let me wash anywhere except with that pitcher and bowl. You are lucky it happened between your visiting days. Renna made sure I spent those days sweating from the time I woke to the time I fell asleep, exhausted. I am trying to fight them, but they are training me as surely as they’re training Pura.” She clapped a hand to her mouth, moaning through her teeth. “Her name is Ryma. I have to remember her name, not the name they've put on her. She's Ryma, and she's Yellow Ajah, and she has fought them as long and as hard as she could. It is no fault of hers that she hasn't the strength left to fight any longer. I wish I knew who the other sister is that Ryma mentioned. I wish I knew her name. Remember us both, Min. Ryma, of the Yellow Ajah, and Egwene al'Vere. Not Egwene the damane; Egwene al'Vere of Edmond's Field.' "

...

The door swung open, and Renna stepped in.

Egwene jumped to her feet and bowed sharply, as did Min. The tiny room was crowded for bowing, but Seanchan insisted on protocol before comfort.

"Your visiting day, is it?" Renna said. "I had forgotten. Well, there is training to be done even on visiting days."

...

Renna puts on the bracelet and senses that Egwene was channeling without permission:

"You have been channeling." Renna's voice was deceptively mild; there was a spark of anger in her eyes. "You know that is forbidden except when we are complete." Egwene wet her lips. "Perhaps I have been too lenient with you. Perhaps you believe that because you are valuable now, you will be allowed license. I think I made a mistake in letting you keep your old name. I had a kitten name Tuli when I was a child. From now on, your name is Tuli. You will go now, Min. Your visiting day with Tuli is ended."

Min hesitated only long enough for one anguished look at Egwene before leaving.

...

Then, in Min's PoV right after she leaves the room:

Outside in the low-ceilinged hallway, Min dug her nails into her palms at the first piercing cry from the room. She took a step towards the door before she could stop herself, and when she did stop, tears sprang up in her eyes. Light help me, all I can do is make it worse. Egwene, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Feeling worse than useless, she picked up her skirts and ran, and Egwene's screams pursued her. She could not make herself stay, and leaving made her feel a coward. Half blind with weeping, she found herself in the street before she knew it. She had intended to go back to her room, but now she could not do it. She could not stand the thought that Egwene was being hurt while she sat warm and safe under the next roof. Scrubbing the tears from her eyes, she swept her cloak around her shoulders and started down the street. Every time she cleared her eyes, new tears began trickling along her cheeks. She was not accustomed to weeping openly, but then she was not accustomed to feeling so helpless, so useless. She did not know where she was going, only that it had to be as far as she could reach from Egwene's cries.

Compare all that to Min right now: wearing Seanchan silks and whining about how their fanciest food isn't to her liking.

Anyway, she delivers her message from Mat, and Egwene says that she'll take it under consideration.

49. In Ituralde's PoV, we learn about the kinds of nightmares that Graendal has been putting in their heads, and the kinds of thoughts. Three separate times, Ituralde has almost given an order for his men to engage in a direct assault against the Shadowspawn but then been able to pull back again before he gave the Graendal-influenced order, so he's doing better than the other captains. I wonder if his experience in getting all those confusing messages from 'his king' (but actually Graendal) is helping him here. We see him fighting the urge to give one of those bad orders now and he's fighting it extremely hard and then Perrin shows up before he gives in and says it. And Ituralde is so relieved to give up his command because he can tell that something is wonky with his own thinking!

50. Egwene notices that Gawyn doesn't seem tired but he does seem 'strangely pale'. :-(

Thinking about Mat makes Egwene feel "strangely sick". That is such the mood when talking about post-WH Mat, yeah. We are twinsies in this feeling, Egwene. But after thinking it through and remembering the times when Mat has come through when needed, she decides that she is going to trust him, though it makes her feel like she's a fool for doing it. "Mat could be wrong. He was often wrong. But when he was right, he saved lives." and "[Mat] was a scoundrel and a fool but she trusted him. Light help her, but she did. She trusted him with her life."

Not sure Mat deserves that right now, tbh, but it's a sweet thought from Egwene.

And maybe he does.

I'm thinking about 'a ribbon that felt like a chain'. Thinking about Mat considering his father's advice for dealing with cheats during a trade. Thinking about Mat telling Min to pick and choose between her viewings to attempt to guide Tuon onto a better path. Thinking about Mat putting on a Two Rivers coat during the Last Battle.

Maybe he does.

I guess we'll see.

The ultimate factor, once Egwene realizes that Bryne was Compelled, is that she knows that Mat cannot be touched by saidar or saidin, so he is the only general they can trust not to be corrupted by the Forsaken.

[epitomereally]

Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis by @vukovich

Harry's assignment was simple. Close out Draco Malfoy's missing persons case so he can be declared dead.

But who's making withdrawals from Malfoy's vaults? How is a death omen-turned-Unspeakable involved? Is an organization known as the Moirai to blame?

Harry brushes it off until he can't. Until The Prophet is flooded with sightings of dead people. Until Robards throws himself on his sword. Until Ron turns on his own family. Until Harry scarcely trusts his own reflection in the mirror and trusts the stranger in his bed even less.

Until all that stands between war and peace is Harry, a name plate, a stadium of murderers, and Draco Malfoy.

God save the Ministry.

Vis-a-Vis-a-Vis was one of the most inventive, thrilling, nasty (in the best way), and intriguing fics I read last year and I’m so happy I got to bind a copy for Vuk & myself. I bound this as a part of Renegade’s Binderary 2023 (where we challenge ourselves to make as many books as we can). I specifically focused on some of my favorite fics published in 2022 that I hadn’t already bound :)

Inspired by @lettersbyelise's ask, I’m going to interleave the inspiration & the process in this post! I knew when I was reading Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis that I wanted something graphic and bold and a little bit sinister. My hand-painting skills are not good enough for the super sharp edges I wanted, so I used heat-transfer vinyl for the first time (tysm Rhi, my guru & owner of a cricut). I also couldn’t find a commercial bookcloth that was a bold, bright red, so I made my own from fabric.

I also HAD to have something that only was exposed under camera, which is a central leitmotif (motif? theme? Idk it’s been so long since I took a lit class) of the fic — whatever it is, Harry is always trying to get a photo of the Doppelgänger to expose their identity. There are only two (2) flash-sensitive inks on the internet & I bought the cheaper one. It’s absolutely not perfect - you can see the image of Draco when you tilt the page because, really, the ink is just a reflective white (as Vuk called it, a shiny paint lol) — but I am absolutely delighted with the effect. Also happy to chat via ask or dms about the experimenting I did with the ink if you’re a fellow binder wanting to use it! I also would use a stencil next time to paint, as it turns out painting with basically invisible ink is really hard lmao.

I then really beat this things hidden/unseen theme to death, as I am wont to do. The title page is meant to simulate a flash/spotlight & so only parts of it are illuminated. The chapter headers are a reverse flash in black, while the chapter numbers are hidden/revealed by it (are they hard to read? Yes, absolutely. Am I happy with them anyways? Absolutely, yes). Even my bindery logo is a paparazzi camera for this bind :) the endpapers are spooky eyes WATCHING YOU READ (also kinda leant itself to the Illuminati/hidden conspiracy vibe), as are the scene dividers.

Headbands are just a fun hot pink and candy apple red, because I love that combo, and it’s certainly a bold statement. This is probably the bind I stretched myself most creatively on, as I think my style is naturally softer and more romantic, but I am so pleased with how it came out.

Materials:

Body font: Liberation Serif

Title font: Timonium

Endpapers: Lokta eyes

Bookcloth: handmade from red fabric

Flare brush for chapter headers: Xresch on DeviantArt

Flash-sensitive ink: MaxMax Flash-Sensitive Ink

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hiii I wanna make a request :)

SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS AHEAD

So it takes place in the Berg where the Gladers were "stuck" in "The Death Cure". It was right after the last meeting with Newt on the Crank Palace and after that Minho wasn't okay at all. Female reader was also not good but Minho knew Newt a lot more so reader comforts Minho who is kinda off and doesn't speak to anyone and wants to let it all out but wants to be strong etc. If it's possible to end with a little spice I would very much like that :). Thank youuuu

Ooo a book request, huh? It's been a while since I've actually read TDC but I'm pretty sure I can remember what you're on about. I've also briefly skim-read a couple of necessary chapters to prepare myself which is why this took a little longer.

AFTER THE CALM

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. All book content. Slightly implied morally grey reader.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some depressing themes and no Newt, spice, my incredibly vague knowledge of the book 'cause I read it like 8 years ago. I remember nothing about the layout of the Berg in the books apart from what I vaguely read for this piece. I'm making this shit up. Also references to Brenda and Thomas getting tied up at that party during TST.

You don't even want to think about it. None of you did. Thomas had said that Newt was acting weird, and you all knew why.

Newt isn't immune. He never has been. He was sent into the Maze as a control variable, and he'd decided to spend the remainder of his sanity in the Crank Palace.

He's gone. Someone you've been with on this insane journey and spent some incredibly important moments with- and you're probably never going to see him again

Brenda and Jorge had settled in the cockpit of the Berg whilst you'd left Thomas and Minho to talk in private. They'd both know Newt a lot longer than you- Minho longest of all.

You're not really part of either party. You're a stranger that they found during their travels through the Scorch. To everyone's surprise, you revealed you were immune when you showed some old teeth-marks from a Crank; making you one of the few Munies that WICKED didn't manage to gather up.

You were a thief and a con artist, smuggling goods and providing drugs that you stole into infected places. It was a dangerous job, but one you did willingly. So, imagine your shock when you find two hung-over teenagers tied up in a room with one of your regular buyers.

After sitting in for Thomas' explanation and hearing all the shit to do with WICKED, you lend them a helping hand and have been a regular member of the group ever since.

It was almost fun at first. The whole group looked up to you and thought you were some badass powerhouse.

But now it all feels very real. You sit on the floor, the faint hum of the Berg sending vibrations through your skull as you rest your head against the wall. You often hid in a corner, somewhere, choosing to not be a part of the rage-filled political debates that take place. You're a sort of middle ground between the ex-WICKED personnel and the torture victims. It's a weird dynamic, to be sure.

You watch from the safety of your spot as Brenda speaks to the boys, saying something that clearly triggers Minho as he storms off, slamming the door to one of the sleeping quarters. You cringe as the action shakes the whole ship.

"Sorry," you tune into the conversation, hearing Brenda's anxious words.

"It's okay," Thomas shrugs, "He was with Newt for two years before I showed up in the Maze. It'll take him some time."

You'd always known Newt and Minho were close- easily the closest out of the group. You're not exactly a genius, but you don't last as long as you have, doing what you do, if you can't read people.

You consider Minho your friend. You don't consider many people your friend, and you still have your suspicions about Brenda and Jorge, and you're on edge every time Thomas's face drops whenever Teresa is mentioned. You're not a trusting person, but you do enjoy Minho's company.

He's witty and sarcastic, easily matching your dry humour. There's been many of times you've exchanged smirks and knowing glances during some, actually, quite serious conversations. You have similar opinions, and despite your tendency to play devil's advocate, you do appreciate having a more forward guy on your side.

Minho wears his heart on his sleeve and is more than willing to kick the shit out of someone to protect what he loves.

Not to mention, you'd be lying if you didn't find the boy attractive. It's not like there are many people out in the world that you deal with that won't eventually rip your face off with their bare teeth. So, Minho is basically a God in comparison to your last couple of flings before they started frothing at the mouth.

Brenda says something about making some food, earning some agreeing mutters from Jorge as she leaves Thomas alone, probably to process the day's events himself.

I'm a Crank!

Newt's words ring in your head. Apart from your parents, you've never been close with anyone that's gotten infected- always moving from one gig to the next and never really getting attached. So, when Newt started showing symptoms, things cracked pretty fast.

The way he was waving that Launcher at you all, wildness forming in his eyes and the screaming at you to leave. Thomas, unfortunately, was right to force you all to leave. It was becoming dangerous.

Minho didn't fight. He barely even argued. Thomas dragged him and Brenda away, grabbing whoever was closest to him. You stayed behind Jorge, preparing to be at the back of the group since you're probably the one with the most experience regarding Cranks.

You weren't prepared for Newt to speak.

"(Y/N)," you froze, glancing back over your shoulder to meet the wild eyes of the once level-headed blond boy.

"What is it, Newt?" Your voice was barely a whisper as you turned to face him. Your lack of presence wouldn't go unnoticed by the rest of the group, but you didn't know why he'd chosen to speak to you. "I thought you wanted us to leave?"

"I did- I do," your eyes never left the gun that he held in his hands, his finger never fully leaving the trigger. "Look after him, please."

"Thomas can take care of himself," you'd assumed he was talking about Thomas, after all, he'd dramatically given Thomas a note, and they all seemed to look out for the reckless boy.

"No, not Tommy," Newt almost scoffed, a moment of clarity taking over. "Minho." You furrowed your brow, "He needs someone to look after him, and I ain't gonna be there to do that anymore."

"Newt, c'mon-"

"Stay. Please, stay with them. This isn't just another job you're doing for fun anymore- this is their lives. It's Minho's life. Look after him. For me, please, take care of him. Please."

Newt had seen right through you. You never really intended on staying. Sure, you'd thought about it, especially when the boys spoke about the perfect lives they'd had when this was all over. But you never planned to be a part of that. Not really.

You'd never known anything other than the adrenaline-filled smuggling life that you had, and some part of you wasn't ready to find out who you are when you're not risking your life. You just wanted to help these guys, because people like them deserving helping. Because they deserve to be happy.

But you?

You don't know about that. Surviving after the Solar Flares requires thick skin and a strong stomach. And you have to be willing to do so inhumane things. All of which you have.

So, the plan was to keep moving, even if there is a Safe Heaven. Do you really deserve to be there?

But now, you're not so sure. For all you knew, Newt's dying wish was for you to protect and stay with his friend. And who were you to ignore a dead man's wishes?

The thoughts churn over in your skull until you finally bring yourself to stand up again. You can't leave Minho alone now. If you did, then you'd be ignoring Newt, not even a couple of hours after your last interaction.

Time feels weird, but you know he's not come out of the room in about half an hour.

You pull yourself in front of the room where Minho's hiding, knuckles rhythmically tapping against the door.

"Shuck off," his voice is wavering and scratchy, like he's trying not to cry. "I've had enough klunk for today, and I don't wanna talk anymore, alright, slinthead?"

"Wow, now I'm sure that might work on Thomas here, but you know me better than that." You force a playful tone into your voice. You'd never been good with serious conversations- if a job got too tense, you'd normally just dip and run. But that's not exactly going to work here.

And, for the first time ever, you don't really want to.

It takes a couple of seconds, but you hear movement, and Minho pulls the door open. You send him a sympathetic smile, and he pushes his lips into a thin line, sighing.

"Hi," he scoffs slightly a this as you try to push a more joyful pitch.

"Hey," he responds, though his voice is heavy. His eyes flicker over to behind you, where Thomas is sat on the sofa in the common area. You follow his gaze, and Thomas immediately looks away, doing a terrible job of hiding his eavesdropping. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you? Obviously." You rock on your heels, hands in your pockets as you look up at the taller boy. Minho doesn't respond, he just kind of looks at you. "C'mon, man, I'm just tryna help."

He gives in, sighing.

Minho nods in the direction of the room, stepping aside and letting you walk in. It wasn't exactly unusual for the pair of you to sit together or talk away from the rest of the group. But that didn't stop Brenda, Thomas, and Jorge from nudging each other and snickering whenever it happened. Even Newt used to join on occasionally.

Minho shuts the door behind him, wordlessly slippingly past you and flopping backwards onto one of the beds in the room he's sharing with Thomas. His hands cover his face, so you can't read his expression.

"You okay?" You know it's a dumb question, but you're not sure how else to approach.

"What do you think?" You sit next to his legs, which are still hanging off of the bed.

"Yeah, that's fair." He scoffs again, and he goes quiet. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Minho," you try to get his attention, but he doesn't even move. "You can talk to me, man." Again, nothing. You nudge his leg and he moves his hands away from his face. "Come on. You're just gonna feel even more shit if you keep it to yourself."

"I ain't no sissy." You almost laugh at this. Sometimes, you forget that being stuck with a bunch of boys for two years probably wasn't great for anyone's perception of masculinity.

"I never said you were, dumbass- you're a person. People feel things. That doesn't make you a pussy- or a sissy, or whatever weird fuckin' word you Glader freaks use. It just makes you human," you pause as he watches you, some form of relief washing over him, "and there ain't nothin' wrong with that."

"I just..." Minho trails off, his voice catching in his throat as he sits up. "I can't believe he's gone." He leans forward, hunched over as he looks at the floor, arms resting on his spread legs. "We went through all that just for him to tell us to leave."

"I know, but he's probably doing what he thinks is best," Minho looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

He doesn't agree with you. Of course, he doesn't. You guys have completely different life experiences. But he appreciates it. He appreciates you. You're a guide through the world as it is, and despite Brenda and Jorge's help, you have connections and street smarts like no other.

Not to mention you're hot. Like, Minho spends his nights fantasising about you kind of hot. Not just your appearance, but your take-no-shit attitude. You're not scared to fight with him, and for some reason, he's into that.

"He's my best friend, dude- I've known him for literally as long as I can remember! And he thinks he can just leave some klunky note and vanish to hang out with those psychos? And when we go to get him, he threatens to shoot us? And, obviously, I don't mean klunk to him 'cause all he cares about is good ol' 'Tommy'."

You know it cuts deep from how Minho is mocking the cherished nickname.

"After everything we went through- and he just- we- shit." His voice breaks as his face drops to his hands.

"Hey," your voice is soft and low as Minho sniffs, the events of the day, and his entire life, finally catching up to him. "Hey, it's okay." You shuffle closer, lightly placing your hand against the small of his back and rubbing delicate circles. You rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him as he pulls his hand away.

You look at each other for a second.

He sighs, "Shuck it." Throwing his arms around you, he knocks you back slightly. It only takes a second for you to recover as you accept the hug, allowing him to find comfort in your warmth as you let him cry into the crook of your neck.

You play with his hair, mumbling sweet nothings to him as he calms himself down. You press your lips to his forehead, giving him another source of affection in an attempt to make him feel better the best you can.

He pulls away. His tear-stained cheeks and messy hair are something that you'd never expected to see. "God, this is shuckin' embarrassing."

"Hey," you wipe away some of the liquid from his cheeks with your sleeve, "no it's not, okay? This is some heavy shit, dude, I ain't judging you. Here." You run your fingers through his hair, trying to fix the state of his appearance.

You're too busy trying to fix him to notice how he's looking at you. His eyes have fallen on your lips, admiring your features like he's never even laid his eyes on another woman. You're so close, and he's so used to your lethal nature, and you're now being so nice to him and he doesn't know how to react.

He doesn't care anymore. He's lost another thing he cares about and he just wants to feel okay.

"Minho, are you-?" You don't get to finish because his lips are on yours. Your entire body freezes, eyes wide as you sit there in some form of shock.

Minho pulls away as you attempt to process what just happened. "Shuck, sorry," he mumbles upon seeing your almost blank reactions. "I just- it's just... today has been a lot. A-and you're- I don't know, really. I think I like you, but I've never liked anyone like that before so, I don't- shit. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore." He drops his head again, returning to his original position.

A small smile has crept onto your face, but you're not about to make things worse by taking advantage of Minho's vulnerable state.

"Minho?"

"Yeah?"

"I like you too."

His head perks up, "You do?"

"Yeah, but, I think you've also had a pretty shitty day and I don't want to do anything you're going to regret. I don't want you just acting like this because you want another way to cope."

Minho blinks at you. He doesn't know why he's shocked at this level of common sense, because it's one of the reasons he likes you.

"I've literally been crushing on you ever since you showed up with Thomas and Brenda," his tone is blunt and almost hollow as he's finally getting another thing off of his chest. "I fall asleep thinking about a life with you, and I get where you're coming from, but I want you."

Your chest feels tight, and you shift uncomfortably, trying to control yourself and the heat forming in you. He notices this.

"You want me?" You subconsciously lean forward, almost like two magnets pulling together.

"Yeah, I want you now, the same way I've always wanted you." His words make you feel some type of way. It's not like you've never been with anyone, but you've never had feelings for them. Not really.

Not like this.

"I just want to feel okay, and you help me."

Despite what you just said, you push your lips against his again. He lets out a nervous breath, and goosebumps cover his skin. He lets you take the lead, allowing you to show him how to move his lips. You have a lot more experience than he does, so he's not going to challenge that.

You pull yourself onto his lap, making him hum into your mouth, his hands immediately coming to your waist. Your tongue brushes against his bottom lip and he releases a groan as you take it between your teeth, lightly pulling on it.

You push him back, reconnecting your mouths as his thumbs rub your skin under your shirt. He dares to be bold, slipping them further under as his hands glide against your back. When you buck your hips against him, he digs his nails in.

You hiss, the sting being surprisingly pleasurable, which just eggs Minho on more. He thrusts up, getting more riled up and needing more friction to calm the hungar building up in him.

You move from his lips to his jaw, causing his eyes to flutter shut whilst you move further down, letting your tongue brush against the sensitive skin of his throat. You're almost experimenting; seeing what kind of responses you can get out of him. You move to his ear instead, dragging it up the side before pulling on his lobe with your teeth. You can help but smirk as the action makes the normally unwavering Runner shiver and grab at the flesh on your hips, his hands returning with a sudden jump.

You slow your grind, quickly gaining a rhythm and providing you both with a relief, even with all of your clothes still intact.

"Ah, fuck," your hand flies to Minho's mouth, flashing him a warning look. The Berg might be loud, but the walls are thin, and the soft hum won't drown out anything if he's that loud. "Sorry," he mumbles, leaning up to kiss you again.

You pull away pretty quickly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and he takes the hint. Struggling and half sitting up, he pulls the shirt over his head. It's enough to make you try to squeeze your legs together as you gingerly run your fingers down his abs. His breathing hitches as your hand travels lower, one arm flopping over his face, using his forearm to try and hide.

You fiddle with his belt, watching his chest rise and fall, the clicking of the metal coming undone is like music to his ears.

"Hey, is everything okay? I thought I heard-"

Thomas stands blankly in the doorway. Everyone in the room freezes. Thomas stares at the scene in front of him, trying to process what exactly is going on.

You're straddling a shirtless Minho, who is very visibly aching for more. Thomas immediately starts to change colour to a deep shade of red.

"Dude!" Minho snaps, "Don't you know how to shuckin' knock?"

You snort, climbing off of Minho's lap, clearly not nearly as embarrassed as your partner. He raises slightly, leaning back on his arms for support as he shoots daggers at his friend.

"Sorry- I didn't realise that- I just heard something-" Thomas seems somehow even more flustered and freaked out than Minho. "Brenda's made us sandwiches." He sighs, and you laugh, your legs hanging off of the bed.

"Bro, get out!" Minho snaps and Thomas seems to return to reality.

"Sorry! Sorry!" The door slams behind him and you burst out laughing.

"You guys are something else," you shake your head, and smile at Minho, who simply scoffs. "You feeling any better?" The atmosphere changes, becoming more serious once again.

"Honestly, not really," you push your lips together as Minho pulls his shirt back on, sitting up properly, "but I know that I'm going to be- some day, 'cause you're gonna stick around, right?"

You pause. Even if Newt didn't say anything, how could you possibly even consider leaving Minho? Maybe your feelings are stronger than you originally thought.

"Yeah," you lean forward, pecking him on his lips, making him smile, "I'm not going anywhere."

Wooooo, this one was actually pretty fun to write and I enjoyed writing for something outside of the Glade. It makes a nice change and I love these types of more specific requests.

Requests are still open, I hope you enjoyed :))

[f0rg3t-me-n0t]

A Simple Salt and Burn

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: A simple salt and burn turns out to be not so easy after all.

Words: 11,2k

Warnings: angst, language, fluff, reader gets/is hurt, painkillers, friends to lovers 

A/N: English isn’t my mother tongue so please excuse any mistakes! :)

Masterlist

~~~

A soft knock on the door made you look up from the book you were currently reading. Sam had bought it for you on their last hunt to help you pass some time while you were taking a little break. You had to heal from a pretty bad wound you had gotten from a werewolf a few weeks ago.

„Yeah?“, you called out and Dean slowly entered your room.

„I‘m not interrupting you, am I?“, he asked, pointing at your book.

„Oh no.“, you shook your head and smiled at the older Winchester. „I just finished the chapter.“

With a relieved sigh, he sat down on the edge of your bed.

„That’s good.“, he said before he went silent and scratched his neck. „So…uhm…“

Closing your book you looked at him.

„What is it?“

„Well…“, Dean cleared his throat and turned a little more to you. „Sam wanted me to ask you if you wanted to join us on a new case...“

You being surprised was an understatement. Never had you even thought to hear that question right now. 

It was no wonder that suspicion started to rise right away, so you asked: „But?“

Dean huffed while shrugging. 

„I‘m just a little worried that it might be a little too soon for you.“, he confessed.

„Uhhh…“, you frowned. „I don’t know. I’m feeling pretty good right now, to be honest. What kind of case is it?“

„A simple salt and burn.“, the dirty blonde answered.

He still didn’t look very convinced.

„I think that should be alright.“, nevertheless you nodded and pulled your blanket to the side. „Might just be perfect for me. It’s something easy to get back into business again.“

You chuckled and hoped it would loosen the tension.

„You sure?“, Dean stood up after you had made your way to the duffle bag that was laying in the corner of your room.

„Yeah.“, you started to throw various items of clothing in it and turned to him after you had heard him sigh. „I promise. I‘ll be careful, okay?“

And finally, you had persuaded him.

„Alright, I guess.“, Dean smiled a little and nodded outside while he was walking to the door. „Meet us at the Impala in 15 minutes?“

„Sounds good to me.“, you agreed and he left.

Relief spread through your body and you couldn’t help but grin. Finally, the boredom was over. Still, you had to admit that it was right for Dean to worry. Your wound wasn’t completely healed yet, but in a much better condition than before. 

You pulled up your tank top a little to reveal the bandage on your belly. Carefully you removed it and looked at the fresh scar. It had been a pretty large and deep cut, but right now it was only a little red and irritated. Not too bad. 

„Okay, let’s put on some ointment and get the rest of my stuff.“, you murmured to yourself.

Said and done. After you had taken care of your wound, you remembered the painkillers on your nightstand and threw them in the bag, too. Just in case. Then you collected your toiletries in the bathroom and there was only one thing left to do: throw on some real clothes.

Finally, you made your way over to the garage. 

„Hey boys.“, you greeted the Winchesters.

„Hey.“, Sam smiled at you and put the duffle bag that you were handing him in the trunk of the Impala. „How are you feeling?“

„Well rested and excited.“, you answered him with a smirk and he patted your shoulder.

„Glad to hear that.“, the Brunette opened the door to the backseat for you. „I‘m happy you’re back on track again.“ 

„Yeah, me too.“

You got in the car and looked at Dean who was already in the driver's seat. His glance shifted from his smartphone to you. 

„Wait.“, he furrowed his eyebrows. „Is that my flannel? I‘ve been looking for it everywhere!“

Grinning you eyed the brown material on your body.

„After the last load of laundry, it kinda showed up in my drawer, so I thought I’d borrow it.“

Now he chuckled.

„At least I know now that it’s in good hands.“, he said.

This statement made you blush a little. You‘ve had some feelings for the older Winchester for a while now but just couldn’t muster the courage to tell him. Losing your best friend was your worst fear so you decided to stay quiet.

„Okay, let’s go.“, Sam got in the car and you cleared your throat.

„Yup. Let’s kick some ghost ass.“ 

~~~

After three hours of driving Dean decided to take a stop at a gas station. He turned the Led Zeppelin song that was blasting from the stereo lower and got out of the Impala. Just two seconds later his head appeared again and he looked at you.

„Want something from the shop?“, he asked.

„Uhm…maybe some chocolate?“, you shrugged.

„Alright.“, Dean turned to go but he was stopped by his brother.

„Hey, what’s with me?“, Sam pouted.

„You and me both know, that you’re more into rabbit food than snacks and there’s no green stuff at a gas station.“, this was the only answer the dirty blonde gave him, then he was gone.

Sam huffed while you were laughing.

„Oh wow, that was mean.“, you chuckled.

„Yeah…“, he said sourly.

„Don’t worry, I‘ll share some chocolate with you.“, you leaned forward and nudged his arm.

He snorted while rolling his eyes.

„Thanks, N/N.“

„You’re welcome.“, grinning you sat back and stared out of the window. „Anyways…what’s the case about? I can’t believe I haven’t asked already.“

Sam nodded and grabbed his notebook.

„Yeah, we had a lot to catch up on. You barely left your room in the last three weeks.“, he spoke.

„Right…“, you sighed. „Wasn’t feeling that well…“

„I know. It’s alright. I’m glad you’re doing better.“, Sam waved it off. „So…where is it?“ He flicked through his notes. „Oh yeah. A group of teenagers went missing in a haunted house in Purcell, Oklahoma. Your typical dare. Fact is that only one kid came back and he’s absolutely traumatized. He told the police that a disfigured man let his friends vanish or might have even killed them. They thought he was nuts so they put him in a mental facility.“

„Jesus. Poor kid.“, you murmured. „But it really sounds like a salt and burn.“

Just as you finished your sentence Dean opened the driver's door.

„Look what I found! Beef Jerky with Pizza flavoring!“, grinning from ear to ear he shook the little bag in front of Sam.

Sam only rolled his eyes. 

„Oh, here’s your chocolate.“, Dean threw a Hersheys bar at you that you barely caught. „Were you two talking about the case?“

„Yeah.“, you nodded and opened the chocolate bar before taking a bite.

„I see.“, Dean started the car and got back on the road. „So…what’s the plan?“

„First of all we should get a motel.“, Sam suggested. „Afterwards we can talk with the police and Lucas Paulson. He’s the only one from the group who’s not missing.“

„Sounds good.“, you agreed. „Maybe we should also look into the backstory of the haunted house. I mean…surely the police and Lucas can tell us a few things about it, but just to be safe. Then we can visit the house.“

„Alright.“, Dean said. „But let’s do all of the case stuff tomorrow. It’ll be late when we arrive in Purcell. Maybe we could go out for a few drinks? What do you guys think?“

His eyes met yours in the rearview mirror. Sam already shook his head. 

„Nah. I think I’m going to do some research.“

Dean didn’t react. His eyes were still on you. Immediately you could feel yourself turning a little red.

„Uh, sure. Why not?“, you gave in.

The older brother smiled.

„That’s my girl.“

Your eyes widened a little but at the same time, you knew or rather told yourself that he didn’t mean anything by it. He was your best friend and you were his. That’s all.

~~~

Finally, you arrived at the Three Oaks Motel. It wasn’t too shabby and they even had a free room for three. A double bed and a single bed. Sam took the single one because the double bed would be too cramped for the other person sleeping there, so you and Dean had no other choice than to take the double. It wasn’t really weird, you’ve had spent a few times sleeping in one bed with Dean when no rooms for three persons were available, but right now with your feelings, it wasn’t the best option. 

Sighing you put down your duffle bag on your side of the bed.

„Is sleeping next to me that bad?“, Dean chuckled and threw his stuff next to his nightstand.

„Oh!“, you felt caught. „Not at all…uh…the drive was just long.“

The blonde looked at you with worry.

„Your wound isn’t hurting, is it?“

„No. But my back. I’m getting old.“, quickly you tried to distract him and laughed.

Snorting he shook his head but you didn’t miss that there was still worry in his eyes.

„Okay. Let’s grab some food. I’m starving.“, nevertheless you had a plan to escape the situation. „I saw a diner on our way to the motel. It should be a few minutes away by foot.“

Both Winchesters agreed so you set out. While you were waiting for your burgers and Sam‘s salad you discussed the little information you had about the case and the last werewolf hunt that had left you with that nasty cut on your stomach. The topic was still a little sensitive for you so you tried to talk your way around it. To be honest, the wound really did hurt a bit after the long drive, so after a while, you excused yourself to the restroom to take an Advil. 

Sighing you looked at yourself in the mirror. You really hoped you had made the right decision to tag along.

After dinner, Sam made his way back to the motel, and Dean and you went looking for a bar. For a while, you just walked silently next to each other. 

„So…“, Dean broke the silence after some time. „You took something for the pain in the bathroom, didn’t you?“

Your steps slowed down and you looked at him. 

„Don’t lie. I saw you taking the pills out of your bag back in the motel. And I also noticed you huffing quite a bit before you went to the restroom.“

You both stood still now and you gulped.

„Well…“, you let out a shaky breath. „The cut hurt a little. But it’s okay. Really.“

Dean eyed you with a stern look on his face and blew some air through his nose. 

„So you didn’t tell me the truth in the motel.“

He was pissed. At least a bit.

„Why?“, he asked.

You looked to your feet and shrugged.

„I just didn’t want you to worry.“

„But I do. All the time, since that werewolf got you.“

„I know.“, you murmured, then you got louder. „I just couldn’t stand being bored to death in my room anymore. The wound was fine before the ride. I promise. And I…I know I fucked up that werewolf hunt but you need to trust me. I’m fine. Please…“

Dean took a step forward and put his hand on your shoulder.

„I trust you, sweetheart. I just can’t see you hurt.“, he said. „And you didn’t fuck up that hu-“

„I did.“, you didn’t let him finish his sentence. „I ran after that werewolf and that’s why he got me. You even got mad at me for it.“

Now the green-eyed hunter sighed.

„Yeah, I know Y/N. But you just tried to save that girl. And you did, which makes me so proud of you. I was just mad at you because I was scared for you…“, his hand left your shoulder and he turned away from you.

Now you didn’t know what to say. Your mouth opened but nothing came out, so Dean went on.

„So…yeah. It’s not your fault.“, he cleared his throat. „But you need to be honest with me about your wound, okay? I won’t stop you now but I want you to let me know if it’s getting worse.“

For some time you stayed silent, then you nodded.

„Okay.“

„Good.“, the older Winchester set in motion again and you caught up to him. „Now let’s forget about that, deal? I really need some drinks.“

He smiled at you and held his hand out for you.

„Deal.“, you reciprocated the smile and took it.

~~~

The next morning started early. You were really happy that you didn’t drink so much last evening because you didn’t want to mix too much alcohol with the painkiller. Dean on the other hand wasn’t that lucky. He grumpily sat on his bed and slurped on the coffee that Sam had brought from his morning jog. 

„So…wanna drive to the police station in 15 minutes?“, the younger Winchester asked.

You nodded, but Dean only glared at Sam.

„Jesus, could you slow down a bit? Some of us are not fully awake yet.“

„Well, sorry. It’s not my fault that you’re hungover.“, Sam snorted, then he went out to grab the suits from the Impala. 

Dean grumbled a little and you chuckled.

„Come on, big boy. You’ll be fine.“, you said and patted his shoulder. „Need some Advil?“

„Nah…“, he waved it off. „I‘m good.“

„Alright.“, you shrugged. „Then drink up and get ready.“

The dirty blonde sighed but finally got up and disappeared into the bathroom. Just then, Sam came back and handed you your suit. 

„He seems to listen to you more than to me.“, he shook his head.

Grinning you answered: „At least he listens to someone.“

„Yeah. You’re right.“, Sam chuckled, then he started to change into his suit. 

After you turned around you did the same. It wasn’t untypical for you to do this. After all the brothers had already seen you enough in your underwear while tending to your wound or that time you all went swimming in a lake near the bunker.

Eventually, Dean returned from the bathroom. His hair wasn’t disheveled anymore and he smelled like deodorant. 

„You look better.“, you told him.

„Gee, thanks. Still feel like shit.“, he yawned, then he pulled his shirt over his head and started to throw on his suit.

You couldn’t help but glance at his torso, the anti-possession tattoo, and his soft abs. Gulping you looked away, when you realized, that Deans's gaze had met yours and you could see him smirking from the corner of your eye.

„You good, sweetheart?“, he asked cockily.

„Perfectly fine.“

Exhaling, you walked past him and outside to the car. Your belly was feeling all fuzzy and you could really beat yourself for staring so much. While pinching the bridge of your nose you walked up and down for some time and only stopped, when you heard the two brothers leaving your room.

„Let’s get going.“, Sam hopped into the passenger seat and you got into the backseat without saying a word.

When Dean had finally taken his place in front of the steering wheel, his eyes set on you for some seconds through the rearview mirror, then he started the motor. Shakily you quietly breathed out and decided to look out of the window. 

Only a few minutes later you arrived at the police station. After you went in, Dean introduced you to the sheriff, who was talking to one of his colleagues in the lobby.

„Hello. I'm Agent Plant, these are Agent Page and Agent Jones.“, he nodded to you and Sam. „We‘re from the FBI and we’re here for the investigation of the missing teenagers.“

The sheriff looked surprised. You on the other hand tried to hold in a grin because you knew perfectly well that Dean had chosen the last names of Led Zeppelins members. 

„The FBI? Why would they deal with this case?“, Sheriff Milner who was a tall man with light brown hair and stubble as a beard asked.

„Uhm.“, Sam cleared his throat. „We’re newbies, so our boss decided it would be best for us to start with something easy.“

Now the Sheriff laughed.

„Easy.“, he snorted. „Well, not so easy if you ask me, gentlemen and dear lady. Come with me.“

He escorted you to his office and handed Sam a file. While Sam was flicking through it he began to tell you about the case. 

„So…as you can see we have five missing teenagers, two girls, and three boys. Only Lucas Paulson got away, but he went a little crazy.“, he sighed. „They visited the old Griffin House which is just a little outside of town.“

„We were told that it’s haunted. That right?“, Dean asked.

Sheriff Milner shrugged.

„If you ask me it’s just a story, but I have to admit that the case is…well, weird.“

Now you frowned.

„Weird? Can you tell us a little more about the backstory of the house? To be honest, we didn’t get a lot of information on it.“, you wanted to know.

„Yeah of course.“, the brunette nodded. „60 years ago the Griffin family lived there. A couple with a daughter and a son. They were quite highly regarded, but the son…uhm…he caught interest in satanic rituals.“

„Oh.“, Dean said.

„Yeah. Oh.“, the Sheriff chuckled. „Well, one day everything escalated when he conjured a ritual and the house burned down with the entire family. Since then it has been said that the ghost of the son still haunts the ruins. Many young people go there as a test of courage. Just like in our case.“

„Wow. That’s…“, you didn’t really know what to say.

„Eerie.“, Sam completed the sentence for you and you nodded.

„Yup, you can say that.“, Sheriff Milner agreed. „But they never found satanic shrines, symbols, or weird objects. It is said that he performed the ritual in the basement of the house, but it was completely empty except for a few supplies and tools when the police investigated it. That’s why many say that it’s just a story and that there was something wrong with the furnace in the basement. It makes sense, I guess. That’s where the fire started.“

„Alright.“, Dean spoke now. „But…back to our case. What’s so „weird“ about it?“

Instead of the sheriff, Sam answered: „Maybe the fact that they only found some blood from the teenagers. Not even what could have caused it. Blood only. As if it had appeared out of nowhere. There wasn't even a trace of a fight.“

He must have read about it in the file.

„Completely right.“, the Sheriff nodded. „We have no idea how this could have happened. I mean, yeah. The whole thing looked like a crime scene, there was a lot of blood. But the thing is…everything looked so clean…not one drop of blood was smudged. There were no bloody footsteps or handprints, although, according to Lucas, there certainly should have been some.“

„Huh…“, Dean furrowed his eyebrows. „Well, then we should really ask him about his side of the story.“

„You can do that.“, Sheriff Milner shrugged. „But I wouldn't put too much faith in him. He said it was the ghost of the Griffins' son.“

With those words, he walked to the door and opened it for you.

„If you excuse me now. I have an important phone call in five.“, he smiled apologetically.

„Yeah. No problem. We‘ll call if there are any questions.“, Sam said, then you all walked out of his office and to the Impala.

„Really didn’t expect this.“, you huffed. „No simple salt and burn after all. The son must have been fried enough in the fire, so there must be something else that binds his spirit to the house.“

"You can say that out loud.", Dean ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, let's talk to Lucas and then check the archives to see if we can find out more about the Griffins."

~~~

About 30 Minutes later you entered the mental hospital, which was a few towns away. At the reception, you talked with a nurse who then brought you to the ward where they treated Lucas. Another nurse then took over and guided you to his room.

„Lucas?“, she knocked on his door and entered.

Slowly Dean, Sam, and you followed her and your eyes met a barely 16-year-old boy who stared at you like a deer in headlights. He was in horrible condition and looked absolutely miserable.

„Lucas, those are some FBI Agents. They want to ask you some questions about your friends.“, the nurse introduced you. „Is that okay with you?“

„Uh…y-yeah.“, Lucas gulped and his gaze wandered to the floor.

You knew that this was really uncomfortable for him, but there was no other way. You needed to hear about the night of the disaster.

„Alright.“, the nurse nodded, then she turned to Sam and smiled at him. „I‘ll be outside. Call me if you need me.“

„Yeah, thank you.“, he answered, then you were alone with Lucas.

Right away you could feel the brothers looking at you. They knew you were more sensitive than them so it was best if you did the talking. You took a deep breath.

„Hey Lucas.“, you stepped closer to the blonde boy. „I“m Y/N Page, but you can call me N/N. Those are Agent Plant and Agent Jones. Can I sit next to you?“

You gave him a warm smile when he looked up. He just nodded but you could see him relax a little.

„So…“, you took a seat. „We would like you to tell us what happened if that’s possible. You can take as much time as you need, but it would surely help us with our investigation. We really want to find your friends.“

Immediately Lucas got nervous and he began to tug at his sleeves.

„You would think I‘m nuts…just like the other cops. That’s why I’m here…“, he murmured.

„I won’t, I promise.“, you said and put your hand on his shoulder to make him look up at you. „Try me.“

For a while he didn’t say anything and only chewed on his lip, then he sighed.

„Okay. So…two nights ago my friends and I were hanging out. We drank a little and decided to play truth or dare.“, he told you and took a shaky breath. „After a while, Jake dared Kim to steal something from the basement in the old Griffin House, and yeah, off we went. We were all pretty drunk so we just decided to come inside instead of waiting outside. We were just too curious about everything in there and at first, everything was awesome.“ Now he smiled sadly. „With all of us six shitfaced it wasn’t even spooky anymore… at least until we all had reached the basement. Suddenly it got really cold...like below freezing which was extremely weird. I mean it’s summer.“

Lucas frowned and Dean looked knowingly at Sam. 

„And then?“, you asked.

„And…and then.“, the blonde boy seemed to struggle. „Then a man appeared. I don’t know who it was, he was really disfigured, but he started chasing us. A-And then he got Kim. He had this kind of knife and when it touched her there was so much blood…“ 

His lip trembled and he teared up.

„And that’s the weird part. It touched her, blood spurted out and suddenly she was gone. Not dead gone but gone gone. There was no trace of her besides her blood.“, Lucas exhaled. „After that, the man went after the next person and when he stepped through the blood there was nothing, no footprints, nada. I know that you’re going to call me crazy, but I’m 100 percent sure that he‘s a ghost. I just know it.“

Lucas looked at you desperately.

„Okay.“, you nodded. „I believe you.“

That, he hadn’t expected.

„Wait.“, he gulped. „You do?“

You just nodded again.

„Yes. I believe you, Lucas.“

„But-“, he didn’t know how to go on so you decided to let him into your mostly well-kept secret.

„Well, to be honest, me and those two gentlemen are no FBI agents.“, you told him. „We are hunters and we…well, we hunt monsters.“

Now Lucas was the one who looked at you like you were crazy. At least a little.

„You want to tell me that monsters are real?“, his eyes went wide.

„Yup.“, Dean chimed in. „Vampires, werewolves, you name it.“

„And ghosts.“, you added. „That’s why we are here. We strongly believe that a ghost kidnapped your friends. So no. You aren’t nuts Lucas. Not in the slightest.“

It went silent for a while, but finally, he nodded.

„Alright, good to know.“, he said. „What’s your plan?“

„Well, we wanted to do some more research on the house in the archives and then check on the situation there. We really hope that we find something…or someone.“, Sam explained now. 

„I see.“, Lucas hummed. „But…aren’t you scared that the ghost will get you, too?“

Dean chuckled.

„Not really. We‘ve dealt with stuff that was far worse.“

„Okay.“, a little smile formed on the boy's lips. „Uhm…do you need some more information?“

You pondered.

„What did the ghost look like besides being disfigured? Are there any significant details you remember?“, you wanted to know.

„Uhhh…yeah.“, Lucas nodded. „He had a really big mole on his right hand. I saw it when he grabbed Kim.“

„Good. We can work with that.“

A relieved sigh came from the boy.

„Glad to be of help.“, he said, then he gulped. „Good luck then…and…please find my friends.“

„We will. I promise.“, you squeezed his shoulder and stood up. „Thank you for talking to us. We really appreciate it.“

Afterward, you, Sam, and Dean left the room. When you took a look at your watch you noticed that it was nearly 2 pm. 

„Wanna grab something to eat first?“, Dean must have noticed it.

„Gladly. It feels like my stomach is about to digest itself.“, you answered and rubbed your belly.

„Then we should really hurry.“, Sam chuckled and you made your way outside.

~~~

„Ugh, I‘m so full.“, Dean leaned back with a pained look on his face and eyed his empty plate. 

„No wonder. You ate two burgers.“, Sam snorted while he put the last fork of salad in his mouth.

„I‘m still growing.“, Dean shrugged and you laughed.

„Only in the width.“, you teased him. 

The older Winchester narrowed his eyes, but then he couldn’t help but chuckle.

„Fair enough.“

You grinned and grabbed another fry from your plate. Now both brothers started a conversation while you finished your food and when you were done you did a big stretch. 

Suddenly there was a painful sting coming from the wound on your stomach. You furrowed your brows and crossed both your arms in front of your chest.

„Dammit.“, you thought. „Hopefully it didn’t tear.“

You stood up.

„I‘m going to the restroom.“, you said and Dean looked at you.

„You alright?“, he asked.

„Shouldn’t have eaten those last fries.“, you made up an excuse even though you felt perfectly fine.

„Oh. If you’re going to puke, just scream and we’re coming.“, he offered cockily and you rolled your eyes.

„Ha, fucking, ha.“

You left and when you were in the bathroom you pulled up your shirt to look at the cut. It was still red, but there was no blood so everything seemed to be fine. Sighing you rummaged through your pants pocket and pulled out a painkiller. Taking medication right away wasn’t something you normally did, but on one hand, your wound really hurt now and on the other hand you couldn't afford to be weak from pain later. 

Still, you looked at the pill for a while and pondered. 

„It‘ll help.“, you thought and then you took it. 

~~~

„Okay, boys. Let’s look for some pictures of the family.“, you said while sitting down at a table in the archives.

Dean grabbed a file from the box that the archivist had given you and started with his search. You did the same and soon the older Winchester found a family portrait. Both of you examined the hand of the son in order to identify him as the ghost.

„Huh…weird. No big mole.“, Dean furrowed his eyebrows.

Next, you looked at the father's hand. He didn’t have it either.

„Maybe the picture doesn’t show it?“, you murmured while squinting your eyes and taking a closer look at the picture.

„I don’t think so…hey, there’s another photograph.“, the dirty blonde snatched another document out of the box. 

„William Griffin (18) and Jonathan Griffin (54)“ was written at the bottom 

It showed father and son. Just perfect. At least that’s what you thought.

„No mole.“, you sighed.

„That makes no sense.“, Dean huffed.

„Hey! Look at this.“, Sam suddenly exclaimed and you both looked up from the picture. 

„What is it?“, you got up and around the table to stand next to the younger Winchester. 

„I found a file with some details on the family’s death.“, he explained and pointed to a passage in the text. „Here. It wasn’t just the family, it was also the daughter's boyfriend. Apparently her brother didn’t like him and decided to lure him into the basement in order to kill him during a ritual.“

„What?“, Dean had joined you and his eyes flew over the words. „The hell?“

„Yup. He drugged him, then he put him on fire, and yeah…you know the rest.“

„Damn, that’s really fucked up.“, you ran your fingers through your hair and sighed.

„But that wasn’t all.“, Sam went on.

„Not?“, his brother looked at him confused. 

Sam shook his head, while he was grinning a little.

„Look at that.“

He revealed a picture behind the document. It showed a couple. They seemed to be really happy.

„That‘s Eleanor Griffin and her boyfriend Tate Mayham.“, the brunette explained. „And if you look at his right hand…“

„The mole…“, you were astonished.

What a twist of events.

„100 points to you, N/N.“, Sam nodded. „We have our ghost.“

~~~

After doing another hour of research you decided to drive back to the motel. All of you needed a little rest and most importantly you had to prepare before visiting the Griffin House.

With a huff, you sprawled out on your bed and heard Dean chuckling. 

„Was it that exhausting?“, he asked while he was sitting down on his side of the bed.

You turned your head to him.

„Not really, I guess.“, you said. „I‘m just a little out of shape.“

„Well.“, he shrugged. „I think you're doing pretty good.“

The green-eyed hunter smiled at you.

„Thanks, Dean.“, you reciprocated the smile and sat up with a yawn. „I‘m going to freshen up a bit.“

With those words, you grabbed some more comfortable clothes and went to the bathroom. Only when the door closed you allowed yourself to quit acting.

„Ow.“, you murmured and pulled up your shirt.

Your wound had started to hurt again some while ago and right now it felt like it was on fire. That was also the reason why you had huffed when you had let yourself fall on the bed. It had been an attempt to mask a painful hiss.

When you saw the cut your eyes went wide. Now there was some blood.

„Shit.“, you exhaled.

You cleaned it with some water and grabbed the ointment that was sitting on the sink. Afterward, you took some bandages from the first aid kit and put them on. It hurt a lot so you couldn’t help but wince. Next, you went on and changed into the clothes you had brought. During that, some of the Advil you had sneaked in your suit's pants fell out of it and you crouched to pick it up.

„Fucking hell.“, you cursed under your breath.

This position made the pain only worse. Nevertheless, you went on to collect the pills and when you got up again you looked at them skeptically. You knew it really wasn't good to take too many painkillers, but you could really use them right now.

Chewing on your lip you thought about what Dean had said to you yesterday. He had wanted you to let him know when you were in pain, but you just didn’t want to worry him. Right before now, it hadn’t even been that bad.

„Okay.“, you took a deep breath. „One last pill. If it doesn’t get better, I‘ll tell him.“

Down your throat it went and you got out of the bathroom.

„As much as I like you in suits, this outfit looks way better on you.“, your heard Dean say and turned to him.

You tried to prevent yourself from blushing by saying: „But only because I’m wearing your flannel.“

The older Winchester grinned.

„Maybe. It really s-“

„Come on, Dean. Stop flirting, we need to make some more rock salt bullets.“, Sam suddenly interrupted him, and to be honest you were kind of disappointed.

You really wanted to know what he had tried to say.

„You’re no fun, Sammy.“, Dean rolled his eyes.

He continued with his work and you were left clueless.

„So…“, you cleared your throat. „Anything I could do?“

„Mhm…“, the blonde hunter thought. „Maybe you could clean my gun. I think there’s still some vampire brain on it from the last hunt.“

„Ew.“, you wrinkled your nose. 

„Here you go, princess.“, he smirked and gave you the gun with the white handle. 

Sighing you took it from him.

„Thanks…“, you pressed your lips together and started with your task.

~~~

Around 6 pm you all were finally ready and got in the car. During the ride, you thought about the pills again. You really hated that you just couldn’t tell the Winchester brothers about your pain, but what you hated more was Dean being worried about you. He wouldn’t have let you go with them if he knew about your condition. That, you knew for a fact. All you wanted to do was to finally make it up to the two men. 

Yes, Dean had already told you that it wasn’t your fault that the werewolf hunt had gone wrong. You only had wanted the best for the girl you had been trying to save. Sometimes shit just happens, but you couldn’t accept it. You still felt horrible for causing so much trouble and nearly getting Sam and Dean hurt, too. To be honest you didn’t really care that you got hurt, but you couldn’t deal with the fact, that your friends could’ve died because of you.

Now you wanted to show them, that you could do better. You wanted to show them, that they shouldn’t worry about you, that you could handle yourself, and that you could get out of this hunt unharmed. That’s what this all was about. You just wanted everything to be normal again. Only you three on the road, hunting whatever monster you could find, and no worried looks from Sam and Dean.

You huffed quietly and looked at your two friends. That’s when you realized that you were close to reaching your destination. Not even a minute later Dean turned off the Impala.

„Okay, let’s do this.“, he said, then he opened the car door and got out.

Sam and you did the same and right away your gaze met the Griffin House. You had seen pictures in the archives of the once beautiful home, but now it was just a ruin, with charred stone walls, some of which were already crumbling and slowly being taken over by plants. The roof was completely gone.

Dean whistled in astonishment before going to the trunk and opening it.

„Here.“, he handed you the shotguns with the rock salt bullets and also grabbed a crowbar. „Just in case.“

He smiled at you, but you had some problems to also do so. You just couldn’t forget about the things that had gone through your head earlier.

„You good, sweetheart?“, the green-eyed hunter asked now while frowning.

„Uh, yeah.“, you nodded. „A little nervous, I guess.“

His face softened and he laid his hand on your shoulder.

„I won’t let anything happen to you.“, he said. „I promise. You’re safe with me.“

You knew, that he meant good with this. It was just the total opposite of what you wanted to happen. Dean shouldn’t have to protect you. Not like last time. Now you wanted to prove, that you could still do it on your own.

„Thanks, Dean.“, you answered nevertheless.

It wouldn’t be good to make him more suspicious of you.

„Alright.“, he let go of you and looked to Sam. „Y/N and I will check the basement. Do you mind going through the rest of the house?“

The younger Winchester shook his head.

„I can manage that.“, he said. „I‘ll join you when I’m done.“

With that, he went into the house.

„Welp.“, Dean sighed. „Let’s go inside, too.“

You nodded so he went ahead and you followed him. The first thing you noticed was the remains of the burned furniture. Trying to imagine what the shelf in the living room had looked like you inspected it a little closer. 

„I don’t think that Casper’s hiding in there.“, Dean chuckled.

Glaring at him you showed him your middle finger.

„Oh, you don’t say.“

Now he was mockingly pouting. 

„I was just trying to be funny.“, he said. 

You snorted.

„Why, yes of course.“, you nodded and smirked. „Your dad jokes are absolutely hilarious. Ha-ha-ha.“

Shortly after you had set in motion again Dean caught up to you.

„Hey! My jokes are no dad jokes!“, now he was really offended.

„Yes, they are.“, you grinned.

„No, they‘re no-“

A loud pang interrupted him. It came from the basement to which the staircase you were standing in front of led to.

„Well, shit.“, you sighed. „I love when this happens.“

„Me either.“, Dean straightened and raised his shotgun. „But we have no other choice.“

Slowly he made his way down. After you had unlocked your gun you did the same and felt your heart rate increase. It wasn’t too dark so you could see pretty well, but you had a really bad feeling about this.

„Dean!“, you hissed.

The green-eyed hunter was almost in the middle of the room now, looking around while pulling out the EMF. 

„Huh, maybe it was a rat.“, it showed nothing.

Although this should have calmed your nerves a little the weird feeling didn’t go away.

„Dean. This doesn’t feel ri-“, suddenly the staircase cracked right beneath you and you took a hard fall to the ground.

„Y/N!“, Dean shouted and was with you immediately. „You alright?“

He helped you up as you grimaced in pain.

„Y-yeah. I think so - Ow!“, he had brushed your irritated wound and you jolted back from his touch.

„Dammit!“, he cursed when he noticed. „Did your cut tear?“

The blonde man pulled up your tank top a little only to reveal the bloody bandage.

„What…?“, his eyes met yours, and instantly your heart dropped.

You opened your mouth: „I-“

„You promised.“, he huffed and shook his head in disappointment.

Sighing you looked to the side.

„I know…but-“

„But what?“, Dean snapped. „Why would you do something so stupid? Why would you go on a hunt knowing fully well that you’re hurt?“

After those words had left his mouth it was silent for a while. You knew that he was right and you hated it. 

„Why would you do something like that, Y/N?“, he asked again when you didn’t answer.

Chewing on your lip you shrugged. Another huff escaped his lips.

„I want you to tell me. Tell my, Y/N, why would you put yourself in such danger?“

When he said your name you looked up and it felt like his green eyes pierced right through your own. You gulped, knowing that you couldn’t escape the truth now. There was no way out. Sure, you could just be stubborn, but you hated when Dean was mad at you. More than anything. Him being disappointed in you wasn’t something you could handle.

„Alright…“, you murmured quietly. „I… I just want everything to be normal again.“

Dean frowned.

„What do you mean?“

„I mean…“, you took a deep breath. „I just wanted to prove that I could handle it…I wanted to show you that I could finish this hunt without fucking up.“

Dean was still looking at you, but now his gaze got softer.

„Sweetheart…“, he sighed. „I already told you, that you didn’t fuck up.“

„Still.“, you turned away from him and crossed your arms in front of your chest. „I wanted to show you that you don’t need to worry about me…and that I won’t get you and Sam hurt again.“

You only mumbled the last words, but Dean had perfectly understood you. 

„This is what this all is about?“, he asked. „Come on. Look at me, Y/N.“

He softly grabbed your shoulder and turned you towards him. Nevertheless, you avoided his eyes.

„Sweetheart.“, Dean put his fingers under your chin and gently lifted your face. 

Slowly you obeyed.

„There we go.“, he whispered once your eyes met his own.

Your throat got dry and you could feel yourself starting to tremble from all the nervousness.

„Now I want you to hear me out.“, he continued. „I don’t care if I get h-“

You noticed a shadow from the corner of your eye and your breath started to freeze. Dean went silent and just then a man appeared behind him, a kitchen knife lifted to sink into him. 

„Move!“, you pushed the green-eyed hunter to the side and just barely dodged the blade.

Tate Mayham‘s ghost screamed angrily and already swung to the next blow. Now, however, Dean was prepared and aimed his shotgun at him to pull the trigger immediately. The spirit dissolved into a cloud of dust and Dean looked at you, breathing heavily.

„Are you hurt?“

You shook your head. In the next second Tate appeared again and Dean tried to shoot him again but failed. The gun flew out of his hand and he himself bumped into a wall. 

„Dean!“, you shouted as you aimed your own weapon toward the spirit.

Tate‘s head turned and with a flick of his hand your gun was taken from you and your back hit the wall behind you.

„Son of a bitch!“, Dean cursed while he was trying to get out of the invisible grasp.

The man smirked and got closer to him. In a panic, you looked around for a solution and your eyes fell on the crowbar that Dean had dropped during the fight. You just needed to get to it. 

The distance between him and Tate was getting smaller and you struggled to get away from the wall. The more Tate focused on Dean, the easier it became for you, and eventually, you succeeded. You immediately grabbed the crowbar and sprinted to Dean's rescue.

"Don't!" you heard him call while you were already swinging your arm.

By then it was already too late.

Tate turned to you, pointed the knife at your stomach, and stabbed you. Unbearable pain shot through you and at the same time a feeling you had never felt before, then everything went black.

~~~

„Y/N!“, Dean screamed while your blood splattered all over him.

You were gone, but the ghost was still there. Grinning he looked at the green-eyed hunter whose panic turned into anger.

„You motherfucker! What did you do to her?!“

„She’s mine now.“, Tate answered in an eerie voice. „And you’ll be, too.“

Just as he lifted his knife again a gunshot rang through the room and the spirit disappeared. Sam stood at the end of the staircase, breathing heavily. His eyes widened when he noticed all your blood. 

„Where’s Y/N?“, he asked Dean who could finally move again.

„He took her, Sammy.“, his brother said, his voice shaking. „I-I couldn’t stop him.“

His eyes were locked on the red liquid that was all over him and the floor. The sheriff and Lucas were right. It looked like it had appeared out of nowhere and he couldn’t explain why there was so much of it. It made no sense. Yes, he had stabbed you in the stomach, but normally blood doesn’t just splutter out like this. 

„Shit.“, Sam breathed out.

„We have to find her. He must have taken her somewhere in the house.“, Dean grabbed his shotgun from the floor and went to the next room of the basement.

It was just a storage room for food and there was no trace of you. 

„Dammit!“

He rushed past his brother and back upstairs to the first floor. Sam followed him.

„Dean, I don’t think she’ll be in the rest of the house.“, the younger Winchester spoke. „I already looked through every room and there was nobody.“

„Nobody?“, his brother's steps got slower until he stopped.

„Yes.“, Sam huffed. „Everything seemed normal if you can say that.“

They both went silent for a while and pondered.

„We should go to the car.“, Sam eventually suggested. „I stole some floor plans from the archives. Maybe Y/N‘s trapped in a hidden room.“

„Alright.“, Dean nodded. „If it helps us find her. I won’t leave without her.“

He sternly looked at the brunette. 

„I know.“, Sam said just like he knew something, then he set into motion again.

Just when they reached the entrance Tate appeared in front of it. Sam‘s gun flew out of his hands and he crashed into the cabinet next to him, but Dean had been fast enough and already shot the ghost.

„Not now you son of a bitch!“, he hissed. „You good, Sam?“

„Yeah.“, the taller Winchester got up from the floor and followed Dean outside.

Thankfully nothing was left of the door that lead inside the house, so the spirit couldn’t trap them.

„Okay. Where is it?“, Dean asked impatiently as Sam searched through the glove compartment.

„Here.“, he brought the plans to the engine hood and spread them out.

They both looked over them until Sam frowned.

„Wait.“, he snatched the map of the second floor. „I didn’t see that room when I went through the house.“

He pointed to a little room that was located between the parent’s room and Eleanor’s room. 

„There were only two doors, not three.“, Sam murmured as he inspected the plan a little closer.

„That must be it.“, Dean nodded. „Let’s go back inside.“

„Yeah, just let me take the sledgehammer out of the trunk. We might need to tear down a wall.“, Sam said and already made his way to the back of the Impala.

Afterward, both men entered the house again. Dean already held his gun ready while Sam went ahead. Soon they were standing in the hallway that led to the parent's bedroom and Eleanor’s room. Sam had been right. There were only two doors. 

„They must have bricked up the door that led to the small room.“, Dean spoke.

„Yeah. We should try to destroy it.“

And so Sam took the first swing.

~~~

„Fuck.“, trembling you were holding your stomach.

The blood had already soaked through your tank top and now spread down your jeans. For the first time since the incident had happened, you looked up to check where you were and your gaze fell on five teenagers. They were huddled up in the corner of the small room and looked at you in horror.

„You’re the missing teenagers!“, you realized.

You tried to get up from the floor but your wounds hurt so bad that your legs gave in and you fell down again.

„A-Ah.“, you grimaced and one of the boys slowly approached you.

He was holding his shoulder and blood was all over his clothes, but he didn’t seem to bleed anymore.

„You should sit still. Maybe you’ll stop bleeding then.“, he said. „It worked for most of us. I‘m Jake by the way.

„Y/N.“, you introduced yourself and looked him up and down. „How are you all holding up?“

Now your gaze wandered to the other teenagers again. One of the girls was looking really sick.

„Kim has lost a lot of blood…I- I don’t know if she’ll make it for another day. But the rest of us seems to be alright. We all have pretty bad wounds, though.“

„Okay.“, you nodded and looked back to your stomach. 

Blood was still oozing out of you but it seemed to be less than before which was a good sign.

„What are you even doing here?“, another boy asked now.

You turned to him while wincing in pain.

„Well, me and my friends are trying to save you.“, you sighed. „But the ghost got me.“

„But how?“, Jake wanted to know. „I mean…we’re all trapped inside this room. I don’t even know what it’s supposed to be. It’s all full of cobwebs. We found some candles which we lit so we wouldn't sit in the dark but...it's really spooky.“

Now you took a good look around. Your eyes widened and you swallowed. Even through the cobwebs, you could see the skulls and satanic objects laid out. This probably was William‘s altar room.

„Well.“, you sighed. „Sam and Dean will find a solution. I’m sure of it.“

You tried to smile at the teenagers, but it was really hard while being in that much pain.

„But what if he comes back again?“, the sickly-looking girl now asked.

„He came back for you?“, you frowned.

„Yes.“, the other girl nodded. „He…he grabbed Kim and Michael and…I don’t know how to describe it…it was like he tried to suck some parts of their soul out of them. Both of them were totally out of it afterward.“

„Yeah, it…it kinda felt like that.“, a boy said now, probably Michael.

„Well, that must be why he’s so powerful.“, you thought to yourself.

„Alright.“, you cleared your throat. „Did you see anything that’s made out of iron around here?“

„Uh…“, Jake scratched his neck. „We didn’t really want to touch that stuff. To be honest we’re a little scared that it’s cursed.“

Slowly you nodded. 

„I feel you. But normally it should be alright. Most people who catch interest in satanic stuff don’t know the real deal.“, you tried to stand up again and huffed in pain.

You were still wobbly on your legs, but it didn’t feel like they would give in again.

„Easy there.“, Jake was right next to you and tried to steady you.

„Why do you know all that stuff?“, the sick girl who should be Kim asked now.

„Well, I think all of you will agree with me when I say that ghosts are real.“, you began to tell. „And me and my friends, we get rid of them…and uh…other monsters. We’re hunters.“

All of them looked at you like you were crazy.

„You hunt those things? Voluntarily?“, Michael furrowed his eyebrows. „That’s completely nuts!“

You shrugged and winced because this movement really hurt.

„Someone‘s gotta do it.“, you sighed. „Sooo…iron. Let’s look.“

Jake went with you and you both checked the altar. The other teenagers slowly approached you. 

„What about that?“, Kim pointed to a heavy-looking candle holder.

You reached for it and removed all the cobwebs from it. An amulet with a cross hung around it which you found a little weird. Nevertheless, you could confirm that it was in fact made out of iron.

„Yup. That’s good.“, you said and removed the candle and the necklace and put them on the altar. „The other one should be made out of iron, too.“

You had spotted another candle holder under a whole lot of cobwebs. Jake took it and looked at you in question. 

„So, what’s the thing with iron?“, he wanted to know.

„It repels spirits. If the ghost comes back again you can fight him off with it.“, you explained.

Just like your words were a signal the candles suddenly started to flicker.

„Oh no, he’s coming!“, Michael exclaimed and he and the other kids hid behind you and Jake.

With one hand on your wound and the other around the candle holder, you looked around carefully. In the next moment, all hell broke loose. Tate appeared and when he saw the candle holders, all the furnishings flew across the room.

„Where is it?!“, he roared while all the teenagers were screaming in horror.

When his eyes met yours he lifted you into the air and you lost your grip on the candle holder. It fell down as you cried out in pain.

„Where is it?! Where’s my necklace?“, he screamed and that’s when the realization kicked in. 

The amulet was the object that still bound him to this house. You had put it on the altar, but now that the whole room was in chaos, you had lost sight of it.

„Where is it?!“, Tate asked again and you could feel the air slowly being cut off from you.

„I-I don’t know.“, you croaked and tried to pull away the invisible force from your neck.

Struggling you kicked around with your feet, feeling your wounds tear open again and blood running down your body.

„You do.“, Tate came closer. „Tell me!“

It was like you could feel his breath on your skin and it horrified you. Something like this shouldn’t happen with a ghost. He should be dead, not breathing.

„TELL ME!“, he shouted, then he opened his mouth and your whole body started to tingle.

Michael was right. It felt like he was sucking your soul out of you.

„D-Do something!“, you begged with your last bit of energy and looked to Jake who just stood there frozen. 

His gaze met yours and thankfully it was like you had flipped a switch. The black-haired boy ran to Tate and swung his candle holder through him. 

Suddenly the force was gone and you hit the ground hard while an agonizing scream ripped from your throat. 

~~~

A loud scream echoed through the house and Deans's eyes widened. 

„Y/N.“, he whispered.

The green-eyed hunter knew your scream way too well for his own good and it shook him through his core.

„Shit!“, Sam cursed and let the sledgehammer sink. 

He took a quick look at the map to see where the door had been located. Luckily he stood right in front of it and so he swung the hammer forcefully against the bricks. Stone crumbled and the screaming from the inside of the room got louder.

All of a sudden Dean ran to his side, gun ready, and pulled the trigger. Sam turned his head and realized, that Tate was standing in the hallway. He looked furious. 

„Go on, Sam! I’ll handle this!“, Dean shouted, so the taller brother went to work again. 

Next, the blonde hunter got closer to the ghost.

„You fucking bastard.“, he growled. „What’s wrong with you? Those people did nothing to you! Why are you hurting them?“

He had the shotgun still aimed at Tate and wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if needed.

„He did nothing to help me. Will’s father watched him drench me in gasoline before he put me on fire!“, the spirit shouted.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows.

„Why would he do that? Wasn’t William the one who was into those rituals?“, he asked.

Tate snorted.

„Well, that didn’t stop Jonathan from hating me. He hated, that his little girl loved me more than him, so they got together to kill me.“, he clenched his fists. „What they didn’t expect was that they would pay with their own death. When I died, I immediately came back as a spirit and I just freaked out and the fire got out of control. My Eleanor lost her life too and I just can’t forgive them for it.“

Dean sighed, then he shook his head.

„Still those people aren’t William or Jonathan!“, he said.

„But they mocked my death.“, Tate got closer to him. „They visited this place for fun, not to mourn over me. To them, this place was just a joke, a place for a dare, because someone died in a ritual and they thought that William was still haunting the house. Well…actually I am, so with their first step into it, they made their own grave…and granted me even more power. Maybe I‘ll be able to even defeat death itself…maybe I can bring back my Eleanor and be happy again.“

And after those words, Dean pulled the trigger. All alarm bells were ringing now. This ghost wasn’t just a simple salt and burn, no, he was really dangerous.

The rock salt bullet hit Tate, but nothing happened. Deans's eyes widened.

„It’s working.“, the man in front of him grinned. „ I think what little energy your little girlfriend had left finally made me strong enough.“

With a flick of his hand, Dean crashed into Sam, who had managed to punch a big hole into the wall.

~~~

Your ears were ringing and everything just felt like it was far away.

„Y/N!“, you heard Jake yell dully.

He shook you and you blinked weakly.

„D-Dean…where’s…?“, you managed to mumble.

„The tall one punched a hole in the wall, but the ghost just got them! It’s looking really bad“, he said and you looked at him horrified.

You needed to get to them. Jake tried to help you up, but you screamed in pain. It just felt like your body was on fire.

„Sorry.“, the boy looked around in panic. „What should we do?“

„The necklace.“, you croaked.

It was the only solution you had now.

„Necklace? The one that was hung around the candle holder?“, the black-haired boy stood up.

Nodding you tried to sit up, but it literally felt like you were fighting for your life. Wincing you managed to crawl to the wall that was next to you and leaned against it. During that Jake had told the other teenagers to help search for the amulet. 

Breathing weakly, you watched them and a single tear ran down your cheek. You felt useless and were worried sick about Sam and Dean. Especially Dean. On the verge of death, you just wished, that you had told him how you felt about him. Now he might never know.

Almost as if to add more salt to the wound, you could hear Sam and Dean yelling as they fought with the ghost. You knew there was real urgency now for the necklace to be found.

And just then Michael shouted: „I got the necklace!“

Relief spread through your body, but in the next second you were incredibly scared. Tate suddenly appeared and went for Michael who looked at him in horror.

„Fuck!“, you cursed.

A new wave of energy waved through you and you knew that it might be your last, but you didn’t care for now. Now you just wanted everyone to be safe. Even if it might not include you. 

Your eyes scanned the room for the candle holder and when you found it, you supported yourself on the wall and stood up. Even though your legs felt like they were made out of jelly you managed to grab the iron object and then you just ran to Tate and stabbed the candle holder into his back. Shockingly, he just didn’t disappear. He screamed in pain and turned to you.

„You bitch!“

Now he lifted you into the air again, strangling you.

Just then Sam and Dean stormed into the room.

„Y/N!“, you heard the green hunter yell. „Let her go!“

The last part already sounded dull, as the oxygen was cut off from you and you were slowly losing consciousness. You only noticed that Tate pushed Sam and Dean into the wall behind them.

„The necklace!“, Michael suddenly shouted. „She told us to look for it!“

From the corner of your eye, you could see him holding up the amulet. Sam immediately knew what had to be done.

„Burn it!“ he yelled and you could just barely hear it. 

Your time ran out and you didn’t know anymore if you would make it out alive. Everything slowly started to fade away and just when you thought, that this would be the end for you, you felt your body fall down and heard Tate screaming.

Even though your body hurt like hell all over you didn’t make a sound. You just felt too weak and numb for it. 

Dean was right with you as Tate burned to his final death and called your name again and again.

„Come on, sweetheart.“, he said. „You need to keep your eyes open.“

As you looked at him you only saw a blurred version of the man you loved. Still, you smiled.

„You‘re here.“, you whispered.

A tear escaped you and you weakly stretched out your hand for him.

„Don’t do this, Y/N.“, now Deans's voice sounded frightened, you could even feel him tremble. „Don’t die on me. Not today.“

Breathing slowly you laid your hand on his cheek.

„It’s okay.“, you croaked. „You’re safe…you’ll be alright.“

„No.“, Dean shook his head as his voice cracked and he started to cry. „I won’t. Stay with me.“

Your hand slowly sank.

„I need you.“

The darkness gently encased you.

„You can’t go. Not when I haven’t told you how much y-“

~~~

A monotonous beeping echoed through your ears and you grimaced. Everything hurt, but it wasn't as bad as before, didn't feel like hell anymore. You blinked dazedly and finally, you could see that you were lying in a hospital bed. Slowly you sat up as your gaze wandered through the room and eventually, you noticed Dean.

He was sleeping in a chair right next to you. Even though sleep was meant to be something gentle and relaxing, his eyebrows were furrowed and his whole body was tense. 

You gulped as all the memories from the last hunt came back to you and you wondered how you were still alive. So much blood had streamed out of your wounds and you could remember how you had felt weaker and weaker, how your vision had gotten darker and how, in the end, you had only felt numb.

Sighing you ran your fingers through your hair, then you gently laid your hand on Deans's shoulder and softly said his name. When he didn’t wake up, you repeated yourself a little louder and finally, you heard him groan as he stirred.

His eyes fluttered open and when he saw that you were awake he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Shyly you smiled and the next second he was hugging you.

„I thought, I lost you.“, he whispered and leaned a little back to look at you. „Don’t you ever do that again.“

„Wasn’t like I volunteered to nearly get killed.“, you chuckled, but he still looked at you sternly.

„I mean it, Y/N.“, Dean said. „You really need to promise me that you’ll tell me when you’re hurt. And that you won’t ever let me think that you just died in my arms again. The ambulance told me, that they had to reanimate you three times!“

In shock, you just sat in your bed and gulped.

„Alright.“, you finally nodded. „I promise.“

Dean cocked an eyebrow to make sure you meant it.

„I‘m serious.“, you said and with that, he pulled you into his arms again.

„I just can’t lose you.“, you nearly couldn’t understand his words because his voice was barely a whisper.

„You won’t.“, you answered quietly and his face slowly met yours.

While his hand gently touched your cheek he swallowed.

„I…“, he struggled to say the words. „I need you, Y/N. You…you mean so much to me. And I don’t ever want to go through that another time.“

You stayed silent for a few seconds and let those words sink in, then you smiled.

„You mean a lot to me too, Dean.“, you told him. „It’s just…I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted to get the job done and make you believe in me again.“

Now the green-eyed hunter backed away a little and looked at you in confusion.

„Why would you think, that I didn’t believe in you?“, he asked.

You shrugged.

„Both you and Sam just treated me like…like I was weak, like I was a snowflake, in the last few weeks. I get that you care for me, but…I only wanted everything to be normal again.“, you sighed. „No more asking if I’m okay all the time, no more telling me, that you‘ll protect me.“

Dean looked at you for a while.

„I see.“, he nodded. „But…you know…I don’t worry about you because you’re hurt. Well, I mean, part of me does, of course, but…you’re constantly on my mind…because…“ He gulped. „Because I’m in love with you.“

He had laid his hand on your face again and watched your reaction nervously.

„Oh…“, you didn’t ever imagine hearing those words. 

„It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I know that I’m-“, he started to ramble.

„No!“, you panicked now. „I…I feel the same.“

Deans's eyes widened a little.

„You do?“

„Yes.“, you smiled sheepishly. „I‘ve had these feelings for a while now.“

He started to smile as well, then he gave you that indefinable look and his face moved closer to your own. His eyes kept glancing at your mouth and when you were only a few inches apart, he stopped.

„This okay?“, he whispered.

Instead of answering, you just closed the gap and placed your lips on his. Cautiously at first, then bolder as he reciprocated the kiss. You buried your fingers in his hair as he leaned closer to you and your whole body started to tingle.

Finally, breathing heavily, you broke apart and leaned forehead against forehead.

„I wish I had told you sooner.“, the green-eyed hunter murmured and suddenly the door opened.

Sam stepped in and you both looked at him a little shocked. Clearing his throat, Dean backed off.

„Uhm…did I interrupt something?“, the younger Winchester asked.

„Kind of.“, you chuckled.

„Well, fucking finally.“, he said and closed the door behind him.

„What do you mean?“, Dean frowned.

„The mutual pining was really obvious, you know.“, Sam smirked.

Both Dean and you looked at him flabbergasted. 

„Why didn’t you tell us?“, you asked.

„I don’t know.“, he shrugged. „I thought, that you would figure it out sooner or later. And it seems like you did.“

You chuckled.

„Yeah. Yeah, we did.“, you looked at Dean and you just knew that everything was alright now.

[silverskye13]

I've been meaning to ask about this because I love love LOVE your writing but aren't really very deep into the hermitcraft fandom....

would I need to know anything prior to reading your hc fics? I've heard very many good things about redstone and skulk and I want to read it , but I dunno if walking in clueless is a good idea...

Oh. Hm. Well. I'm maybe not the best person to ask this, ironically. I have a hard time differentiating between actual common knowledge and fandom osmosis common knowledge. My thoughts under the cut because this might get long, but here are my, I guess, fandom initiation thoughts on my fics, for anyone curious?

Redstone and Skulk:

I think it can reasonably be read with little-to-no prior knowledge of the fandom. I do a decent job of explaining what the story is about, since most of it is original worldbuilding with (mostly) original characters. It's a mirror world, where in the main world death doesn't exist, but in the mirror world it does. All the mirror world characters are the bad parts / evil twins of the main world characters, and how they cope with that varies (and is sometimes explicitly stated). The first few chapters do a decent job of establishing this information, and I've had a few people mention RnS was either their first delve into hc fandom, or they had never been in the fandom and read it anyway because it came recommended by a friend. This signals to me it would be about like reading a sequel to a book series. You're clearly missing some establishing character stuff, and maybe some setting stuff, but you're not missing enough to be completely lost.

[basic knowledge of Minecraft mobs and game mechanics would definitely do you good, but that goes for all of these].

Monsters Splitting Hairs:

I personally think you can jump into this with no prior knowledge. All the characters are loosely based on the hc members they're named for personality wise, and place names [Octagon, Horsehead Farms] come from builds the players have made. Just about everything else is my personal world building though. The only upper hand knowing about HC will give you, is maybe cluing you in to who/what the different monster characters are before they're revealed [a la Rendog, who walks around with dog ears on his MC skin, is very obviously a werewolf in the fic.]

This fic is unfinished, and while I plan on finishing it eventually, it isn't being actively updated, and probably won't until RnS is done. It does have a lot of words on it though.

Hound's Tooth:

You need to know a lot of information to go into this one. Not only do you need to know a decent amount about the HC characters, knowing about both 3rd Life and Last Life is also kinda necessary, since the crux of the character motivation is Doc angsting over Ren doing Last Life after 3rd Life fucked up all his friends so bad the first time. Also, you need to know a decent amount about the early Octagon plotlines in s8 of Hermitcraft, the different adventure mode trial rooms they did.

This fic is finished.

Everything else I've written are ficlets, little one or two chapter deals. Anything tagged "RnS fic", you should probably read RnS before reading. Most of the others you need specific information for, since they're generally addressing topics that I had /just/ watched an episode for at the time, and I was responding to an idea or plot point being brought up. Anything with "Hels" or "Helsmet" in the tags or title, know it's about the mirror world and the evil twins.

[shrug]

I hope this helps?

[carica-ficus]

"Harrow the Ninth"

21/02/2024

Reading progress: 507/507 (100%)

Read through since last update: 157

Didn't think I'd cram the last part into one post, but here we are anyway. These last 150ish pages were... All over the place. In a good way!

Final notes:

Oh, there she is!!! Talk about a monster under the bed.

Ok, but how casual is that scene? I know something like that was coming (I've seen some fanart, but knew too little to know who it was about, just that Harrow and Ianthe would be peeking under the bed), but it's just so normal. I like it. Kinda eerie because it's not presented as scary.

Of course Ianthe didn't see it. Don't worry Harrow, I believe you.

Yeah, ok. It makes sense that Ortus was just fulfilling other to kill Harrow. His reasoning for it just wasn't strong enough. "You're a liability." Just like everyone else.

Oho! Here we go! Epiparodos! (Whatever that means.)

NUNLET??? 🥺🥺 That's such a cute word.

Ok, the lobotomy. Right. Also saw a fanart spoiler for it, totally forgot it was coming. I thought it was gonna happen later on? In any case. Ok. Yup. This happened.

Harrow NOVA. There we go. The other Harrow finally revealed by her full name. Though I applaud Muir, I haven't even noticed we never got her last name. Gorgeous and genius writing, through and through.

HAHAHAHAHAHA love how Harrow did the typical "I am small. Therefore, I will be a quick and murderous machine" but Muir decided to break up the cliché by saying she discovered that at the ripe age of 5. Man, I love this book. And I love Harrow as a character.

"What's that, you egg?"

Dying. 😂

Ok, gotta say, chapter 40 lost me.

I think... I got it? I might need to read the remaining pages for all of this to settle down, but this is much less complicated that I thought it would be.

What is the meaning of love if not sacrificing every single memory of a person in order to save them? 😭

Of course, it was not a dream. That would be too easy. The bubbles make perfect sense.

I know I said Ortus was annoying when quoting the Noniad, but I really like him as a character. And by that I mean how Muir has given him more depth and allowed him to grow. Which also made the scene where he hugs Harrow so impactful. 🖤

Ok, the Ortus thing was unexpected. And I'm excited to learn what it's all about.

But first. The Sleeper.

UGH! I love how considerate Gideon is with Harrow's body. Sure, she's a little awkward in it and puts out a dirty joke or two, but she's just trying to be respectful and useful. Also the way she's so worried over any and all her injuries, even though she knows they'll all heal? So fucking cute.

Protesilaus took Dulcinea in his care when she fell ill. That's so cute. 🥺

Oh, hell yes! Gideon stepped the fuck up. Time for Ianthe to meet her fucking match.

(I love how protective Gideon is ggghhhgghggh)

Man, I missed Gideon so much.

MATTHIAS NONIUS!!!!!!! :O

(Such a cool scene!!!!!)

You know what? After everything that happened, my reaction to finding out Gideon is God's daughter was just "Ok. Cool."

Cue John's corny dad joke. Love it.

Also I wouldn't have guessed they were related based on their eyes. Sure, John's eyes were mentioned multiple times, but they're silver and Gideon's are gold, so I wouldn't have put two and two together just by that. But! It fits. It's foreshadowed. It works. So yeah. Sure. Love it.

I knew it! I knew that he had a cavalier! I knew that he was a Lyctor! Hell yeah!

So much stuff happens at the end. I just kept on reading, without spending much time on commentating. I needed to know what happens and tbh, I have no idea what I just read. But that's okay! It was fun!

Ok, all in all, the book was spectacular. I liked it even more than I did Gideon. I liked how Muir handled Harrow's grief. I liked the reveals, the mysteries, the tension and the stakes. I liked the characters and I liked how Abigail got a lot more page time. I didn't even care about her in the first book, but now I really like her. I liked Ortus too!

Now, I'm still confused... About a few things. Primarily Harrow Nona. So I'll have to read an explanation or teo about it (or you can comment on the post if you'd like to help me out). Did... Harrow Nonangesimus kept watch and narrated over what Nona was doing? As in, she was dissociating from her body after the lobotomy and experiencing everything from a distance? Or was that all Gideon? Because I feel like it wasn't. Gideon's narration style is totally different and clearly comes out at the very end, but idk. I feel like I'm missing something here or that I'm not grasping something ridiculously simple.

Anyway, I'll be reading a little more about it, but yeah. "Harrow" is done, so I'll have to get my hands on Nona! In the meantime I'll be writing out my review. 🖤

[olderthannetfic]

Ok, as someone who doesn't read YA but did some extra history classes some years back; focusing on the part about wars and a lot of atrocities done by people across the world. Can I say that stating that you chose to use the history of Unit-731 and then using a white European-coded cast to represent them is really confusing and weird choice? I know there are many books inspired by historical events, I also know that a lot more people mix and match certain events from history to tell a new story, historical fiction and history inspired fiction is a thing I know. But in the context of honoring your families trauma, the history of your people and is just the horrors committed by one people against another, especially making the reader aware of your knowledge of that before they even start reading your book, and about who and what Unit-731 was... the choice seems just confusing and painfully unaware. Yes I read the first chapter because I got curious.

A bit of a history lesson, and why I'm guessing so many people are deeply upset and affected by this book and it's advertisement as being inspired by Unit-731, especially with trying to white-code these acts in the book: You can skip if uninterested, I'll add some sources at the bottom though. Unit-731 wasn't just an isolated case of a Japanese unit gone rogue, a little blip you can just pull out of its historical context and simply cut and replace. It was a deliberate choice, it was a plan, it was bureaucracy, and by the end of it, every victim that survived till the last day, was slaughtered to keep them quiet to not see the next day. It wasn't just a little hiccup between two countries after millennia of peace. Unit-731 is one of the results of a long history of colonization, wars and other historical tensions throughout the existence of two powers. I don't think I could even elaborate or completely explain every detail because this is an incredibly difficult part of history to even cover with all the still living breathing trauma and the suffering it still causes untold people to this day. For reference and to make sure, I double checked some details and pulled from my online searches: Unit-731 a unit that was part of the Japanese imperial army. Their atrocities took place between 1936 to 1945, with an "revealed" at least 3000 victims who were victims of human experiments, but many more people being slaughtered outside of the with some setting estimations as high as half a million (500.000) humans beings. The human beings, victims of Unit-731 consisted of mostly Chinese, Korean, Monglian, and Russian inmates, but also English, French and American. Acts were committed against human victims as young as three (3) days old infants if not younger, and the humans who were experimented on were victims of acts such as live and awake dissection, disembowelments, biological experimentations, chemical torture, live burnings, plague testing, gassing, flaying, and even just "leisure torture" by the soldiers of Unit-731 against their victims. Infanticides, one such example wherein infants where thrown in the air and attempts at spearing them with bayonets, and mass rapes across the province, and sexual torture. I could go on, but I'm kinda feeling sick right now, so anyway here are the sources. Before someone asks why I repeated "human", because it keeps the minds eye on what we're really talking about, not just a victim, but a human being.

https://dangerousworld.soe.ucsc.edu/2018/03/25/unit-731-imperial-japans-biological-and-chemical-warfare/

https://www.nytimes.com/1995/03/17/world/unmasking-horror-a-special-report-japan-confronting-gruesome-war-atrocity.html

https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/article/japans-hellish-unit-731/

https://history.howstuffworks.com/world-war-ii/unit-731.htm

--

[princesscolumbia]

Ranma 1/2 Thoughts, Meta Edition

I have consumed...a lot of Ranma 1/2 content.

I mean, this is kinda what happens when you're a repressed transgirl who discovers the manga a year into a marriage that you got into to "fix" being trans and be "a real boy" in a desperate bid to fill the hole that you wouldn't learn for two decades could only be filled by living as your true self.

I've encountered precisely four (4) types of Ranma 1/2 fans in that time:

Transwomen who see Ranma as their idealized expression of the gender experience ("I'm not like this because I want to be, it's a curse. A curse that gives me a smokin' hot body and HUGE tits! But it's tooootally a curse, for realsies! I'll find a cure any day now, see how hard I'm looking? I'm trying sooooo hard to find a cure...")

Transmen who see Ranma as their perfect representation of their gender experience ("I'm a guy, damnit! This body...it's a curse! I hate it and I want nothing better than to be cured, but all sorts of Life Bullshit keeps getting in the way!")

Lesbians who kin either Ranma (butch NB lesbian) or one of their love interests (Akane - comphet closetted butch lesbian, Shampoo - Strong, smokin' hot bad bitch who goes after what she wants, Ukyo - transmasc coded genderfluid NB)

Completely clueless nimrods who miss the FUCKING POINT and are only into the show for the martial arts and think it would be better if Ranma got cured and they stopped having funny stuff happen.

(In case it's not obvious, IMHO the last group are the worst parts of the fandom and need to Go Away. Most of the toxic stuff that exists in R.5 fanspaces is because of this group of assholes which includes the incels that think everything would be better if Ranma just did stuff that's questionable from an ethics and morality perspective and chased after Shampoo because she's the closest thing to a Barbie-doll these closet fascists can allow themselves to fantasize about playing with, completely ignoring that she's a complex character that's a subversive pastiche to the Japanese racist stereotypes of the 1980s.)

I'm not kidding when I say that in the early days of the public Internet (before Facebook and Twitter ruined it for everyone), Ranma 1/2 was the SINGLE largest fandom by a MASSIVE stretch. I once checked my math on this by going to Fanfiction.net (before the massive purges) and brought up the Big List of All Fandoms and right there at the top with a MASSIVE number of fics was Ranma 1/2 by a HUGE margin. It took three fandoms (Star Trek, Doctor Who, and I believe Naruto if I'm recalling correctly) to have their combined total number of fics exceed the number of R.5 fics on FF.net...and that was JUST FF.net. There was an entire separate index (The Penultimate Ranma 1/2 Fanfic Index) that had the single task of listing, not even curating or reading or reviewing, ONLY Ranma 1/2 fanfics. Not fanart, not commentary, no RP blogs or chat transcripts or whatever, JUST fanfics. And only about half of those linked to FF.net, meaning that if you dig up the archives you'll find at least 60% of all fanfics that people had managed to index in the Ranma 1/2 fandom are missing because they were never properly archived and just...faded from the Internet as the public servers and places like Geocities started disappearing. You can find teasing, tantalizing hints of larger works that all we have left, like scraps of ancient papyri revealing a quote from a missing book of the Bible, are single chapters backed up on niche sites that managed to get spider-crawled by Archive.org, but many great works are just...lost. (There's an ero fic called "Playing with Water" that was SUPER hot and featured elements that we have tags for on porn sites but didn't really have proper words for back in the day...but even back when it was first being written finding the thing was hard...and today? Nearly impossible.)

(If you wonder why I'm such an absolute RABID advocate of AO3, this is why)

For me, Ranma will always be the transfemme coded genderfluid hero that we needed in the late 80s and early 90s. We were on the tail end of the AIDS pandemic, and just like COVID-19 there were a bunch of assholes who used it to ride to power and marginalize queer folk. It was easier to do with AIDS, of course, given the absolutely massive numbers of queer cis men and transwomen who contracted it and died. (Sidebar: the reason "L" comes first in "LGBTQIA+" is because it was the Lesbian nurses who were the caretakers of the Gay men who were dying in numbers large enough to be counted as a tragic statistic instead of a mere tragedy) and while the world was starting to acknowledge (again) that gay men was a thing that existed and they weren't actually trying to corrupt the youth, what we now call "transgender" was still listed in the DSM as a mental disorder that required treatment to "cure." According to the cultural majority in damn near every field you can imagine, the Gender Binary was the only way to exist and if you didn't fit neatly into one or the other then you were Damaged™ and had to be Fixed™ for The Good of All People™ (but specifically so cis-het-white folks, usually men, could feel comfy and not be confronted by things that made them feel icky and might have cooties). It's a truism that's treated as a joke that transwomen get into coding and wind up doing IT work in such massive numbers that between us and the furries we ARE the foundation of the modern Internet. And into the fanspaces packed to the brim with closetted AMAB transwomen who hadn't yet had their egg cracked came this plucky martial artist that gets to swap their gender with a splash of water but somehow still winds up the best of the best, the finest martial artist of their generation. (Goku can suck it, Ranma would turn the Kamea-meha right back on the over-muscled, braindead loser with a food fetish and still make it home in time for Kasumi's dinner)

I'm no sociologist, anthropologist, behaviorist, whatever, but I suspect that the reason Ranma Saotome spawned such a large fanbase so early in the modern Internet's history was specifically because the series created a safe space where people could talk about gender issues with a degree of separation that helped strip away the stigma surrounding feeling like you were in the wrong body.

I get why people like the martial arts aspect. I mean, Ranma kills a demigod. This is NOT something to sneeze at. I also understand the transmen who latch onto Ranma as a kin because I get the feeling like you have no control over what your body's doing and you're going through your days in existential dread of what might be dragging you further and further away from what you always knew was right and correct about yourself. It's a terrifying thing and here's someone who (esp. the anime version) IS a guy trapped in a girl's body.

For me, though, and for a LOT of transwomen out there, Ranma is transfemme. And, yes, canonically Ranma states right near the end of the manga that they're both and they kinda forgot about the 'cure' when they had to pick between that and the really important stuff and that they're okay with being fluid ('cause water, gettit?!) about their gender and it's a damn shame this was the 80s 'cause a continuation might wind up showing Ranma embracing being both...

BUT, and this is a transfemme thing, I know, if you continue the parabolic arc of Ranma's character development, the logical conclusion (for us) is that she eventually decides that she's a woman and just lives in her "cursed" form the majority (or all) of the time.

And yes, this is because that's the transfemme story arc. In the manga in some distant part of the multiverse that peers into our universe and for some reason decides to make me the MC (god, that must be a FUCKING BORING manga by our standards, I weep for those fans), my story arc is the gradual progression of uncracked, closetted transgirl to transitioned out and proud transbien mom. At one point I swapped back and forth between gender presentations because it was safer for me to appear in some spaces as the male that they thought I was. Now I would prefer to die before being forced to go back to pretending to be a man again.

Ranma has the choice, and good for them. Until the Kaisufuu is permanently destroyed, even if the "curse" is locked, they have the option of going one way or the other based solely on their own, personal desire. I can't say I'd be comfortable with that option being available. In that theoretical manga where there's a reboot that gives me a condition like Ranma's, I'd probably wind up destroying the equivalent to the Kaisufuu just because of the threat to my mental wellbeing it presents.

So it's not a stretch to imagine Ranma making the same choice. She's a woman now, she has the life she never realized she wanted because she never had the choice so didn't know she was allowed to imagine it, but now she's happier than ever and why would she ever go back to that struggle of being a guy that only ever brought her pain and challenges and heartache?

[hikarry]

I loved the way you built the tension in the last chapter of the time war au, especially giving the lil hint that Crowley was in the kitchen when Aziraphale was at the tavern. The emotional stakes were high, and I could feel the lil want from Aziraphale. The temptation. Really good. I’m curious, did you draw from any specific experiences or influences to shape their relationship? Because this is quite different from canon. They just talk through letter. So the emotional connection should be harder to create

Honestly? It's a mix of the Good Omens canon and the relationship between Red and Blue from the original book this AU is based on ("This Is How You Lose the Time War", check it out, it's very good).

There's a lot of year jumps. We don't see all the letters they exchange. Most of the times, in between the letters that are revealed to us, there has been a shit ton of other letter we don't get to read that develope their connection.

Sure, sometimes they don't exchange letters for like half a century, but they are immortal beings. That's like a blink of an eye for them. The emotional connection doesn't vanishes like it would for a human if you only heard from your pen pal after 50 years

We are in 1650 at this point. Crowley has been smitten with Aziraphale for a while now. Since around Golgotha in 33 A.D when he saw the way Aziraphale held Mary after Jesus died.

Opposed to canon where - supposedly - Aziraphale understood his feelings for Crowley in 1941, here he has had the click in 1601, when Crowley makes Hamlet popular just because he mentioned in passing how much he liked it and was kinda disappointed that no one was showing up to watch it.

Crowley has been teasing him. Flirting with him, subtly, since 537 - King Arthur's arc - asking Aziraphale what he truly wants.

Aziraphale is Aziraphale, innit. He runs from questions when he doesn't want to answer. Just like in canon. But he has been hit now, so we will see if he breaks

Wait and see, I would say

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Made for Him VII

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, blood and gore, violence, death, grief, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Peter finds himself alone after the loss of those around him, so he decides to find a cure to his grief.

Characters: Peter Parker

Note: Sleepover today! I am tryna prioritise this because Halloween is already here and it is a themed sort of fic. Anyway, this chapter is kinda rough. Sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.

Love you all like Garfield loves lasagna. Take care. 💖

The Creator

Peter was startled when he realised. When he looked over the top of his book and realised she was gone. He sat up, nearly dropping the book entirely as he twisted in the chair and looked around. The television played the credits as the wobbly orchestra played over the columned text. He dumped the book in his seat as he stood, heart thrumming behind his ears.

The creak from overhead drew his eyes up. He huffed as he calmed, just slightly. The heavy stomp of her feet assured him she was not far, though he didn’t remember why she left. Had she said something to him? He found it hard to concentrate the longer he waited and their talk hadn’t inspired her to let him do more than his usual kisses. It was as if it had only scared her further away.

He went to the stairs against the wall and listened to the clamour from above. Curious, he tilted his head as he heard her giggling. He climbed carefully, keeping his steps light as his superhuman abilities aided in his silent ascent. He gripped the railing at the top and looked down at his white knuckles. The wood groaned in his grasp.

Sometimes, he forgot what he was. Who he used to be. A hero. He was Spider-man and here he was tiptoeing around this creature… woman. What was he so afraid of? She belonged to him. He gave her life, he gave her everything. It only felt more offensive that she should act so distant.

He continued down the hall and saw the top of her shadow as he neared the bedroom. He slowed and peered around the frame. The bed was a mess, the blanket half off and draped down to the floor as the sheet was totally stripped away. She held it around her body, swathed like a dress as she looked at herself in the mirror and turned, admiring the way she’d wrapped it. She was smiling at her reflection.

He watched her calmly, quietly. She didn’t notice him as she pulled the top tighter and tried to fluff out the tails. Her clothing was littered on the floor and the sheet drooped down her back as she tried to fix it. She was growing frustrated as the length weighed down the rest and she couldn’t get the top to hold with just a tuck. Peter let out a wispy breath as he felt the twitch in his pants.

“Where’d you go?” He said at last, spooking her so that her eyes rounded and she barely caught the sheet before it dropped entirely. It opened down her back and revealed her round ass and the curved arch of her back. She faced him with a bashful trill.

“Peter!” She clustered the sheet around her front.

“What are you doing in here?” He asked as he entered, unashamed as he felt himself bulging in his pants.

“Nothing,” she lied.

He grinned, trying to ease her, “Let me help.”

“No, I… dumb!” She proclaimed in embarrassment.

“No, it’s okay,” he neared her and reached for the sheet. He barely got a hold of it as she tried to avoid him. “Here, turn around.”

He pulled the sheet away and she clung to it, just for a moment before she obeyed. He noticed more and more how she hesitated to listen to him. But in the end, she always did. He let the sheet fall straight as he held it over her shoulders to hang in front of her. She turned to face her reflection again as he lowered it and pulled it taut to her chest.

Her nipples poked against the cotton and for a moment, he didn’t move as he took in the silhouette of her figure through the fabric. He swallowed a hum and put the end of the sheet to the middle of her back. She held her arms up as he began to wind it around her figure. She watched him as he came around her front and overlapped it, wrapping her nearly three times before securing it under her arm.

He let his fingers trail down what would be the bodice and she wiggled her shoulders and leaned to the right as she tried to see around him. He sighed and stepped aside so she could see his work. She tugged at the lower half, trying to fluff it out. He turned to check out the view from the side and she looked at him again.

“You did it,” she exclaimed and clapped, “pretty!”

He kept his lips sealed as his dick ached. If she noticed the outline of his need, she didn’t let him now. She was too focused on her makeshift gown to care. He hated that. There was always something more interesting to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he framed his hip and watched her.

“Oh!” She furled her fingers and looked at him guiltily, “thank you. I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” he said, dully.

“I like. Thank you.” She repeated, “you nice, Peter. Always give.”

Once more, she was looking at herself. She stepped closer and her smile wavered as she reached to trace the scars around her neck. She shrugged as if to forget them and dropped her clumsy hands.

Peter’s heart swelled and his groin knotted. It wasn’t exactly the best moment for it but when was the moment? After their talk, she was too confused to let him touch her and in the days since, she’d flitted away from him several times. And when she let him kiss her, she stopped him for some other distraction.

“Will you do something for me now?” He asked quietly, so low he wasn’t sure he actually said it.

She bounced as she broke away from the mirror and turned to him. His hand ran without thinking across the front of his pants. Her smile wavered as her eyes followed the movement. She twiddled her fingers before her and raised her brows. The dark bob she chose that day neatly trimmed her face and brought out her beauty.

“What do?” She asked in a tremor as she watched him squeeze himself through his shorts. He gasped as he couldn’t control himself, the pulsing of his dick throbbing through every part of him.

“You remember before?”

“I…” she looked to the floor, “yes, remember.”

Anger surged in him, for just a moment. How could she not want him? She owed him. After all he’d done and she acted so afraid. She was his! She was made for him.

“It hurts, again,” he went to the foot of the bed and sat, “and you love me, don’t you? You want to make me feel good?”

“Yes, love. Feel good but… why feel bad?”

“Because,” he pinched the button of his fly, “because I want you, precious. Don’t you want me?”

Her lashes flicked and she nodded frantically. She grabbed the sheet around her hips and lifted it as she came towards him. She stopped in front of him and folded her hands.

“I do what want,” she tried to smile and her lip tugged from within as she bit it.

He was annoyed. She was making him feel rotten for asking. But he needed it and he’d asked now. A yes was a yes.

He picked open his fly and pushed down the zipper. He lifted himself and rolled his pants to his thighs, just enough to pull out his aching length. He twitched as he brushed the bulging vein along his shaft and sat back down. She stood, waiting, staring at her hands.

“Here,” he stroked himself, just to feel the tingle, “get down.” He pointed to the floor, “on your knees.”

“Knees?” She wondered aloud.

“Trust me,” he said, “don’t you?”

She nodded and kept her gaze down. She moved the bottom of the sheet as she lowered herself and he held his hand out to her. She took it and he guided her closer as she settled on the floor. She wouldn’t look at what he was doing, even as he placed her hand around his dick.

“You don’t have to–” he huffed as he held her fingers tight.

“No, love,” she brought her eyes to his, “I do.”

She pumped her hand suddenly, slipping from beneath his and he spasmed in surprise. He slapped his hands onto the bed as his stomach tightened and she did it again, to his tip then back down. She gripped him tight, so tight. Fuck.

He grunted as he watched her but the methodical rhythm of her strokes irritated him, making it hard to latch onto the ultimate end. He whimpered at the sensitivity of his head as her fingers passed over it and he grabbed her wrists, stilling her. He couldn’t cum like this, not with this dry friction.

“Precious,” he purred as he leaned forward, brushing her chin with his fingers as he made her look at him, “will you try something else?”

Her eyes nearly popped out but she nodded again. “What make happy?”

“I told you, sometimes, that… we– you can—” he ran his knuckles up and down her neck and rubbed her chin again, “use your mouth.”

“Mouth…” She reached to touch her lips.

“Yes, um, on me,” he looked down as she squeezed him so tight he exclaimed, “fuck.”

“Sor–” She took her hand away as he released her, “I hurt?”

“A little,” he said, “but if you…” his heart flickered and he tilted his head and pointed to his mouth, “I did it to you, remember?”

Her eyes drifted in thought. She swallowed and shifted closer on her knees. Her lashes batted and he circled his fingers around his base, angling his tip as she watched his dick. She looked scared but she didn’t stop him. 

“Just open your mouth, precious,” he coaxed, “alright?”

She parted her lips and he moved his hand behind her head, his other still firmly around his length. He urged her down and poked past her soft lips. She squeaked in surprise but let him keep going. He nudged her slowly onto him, her wet tongue sliding down as her warmth welcomed him. He touched the back of her throat and she tried to pull away.

He held her down, gripping her head harder. She pressed her hands to the rumple of his pants across his thigh and he pulled up and back down, coating his dick with her saliva, easing his intrusion. He bobbed her up and down, her wig slipping in his grasp. He ripped it off entirely and clamped her head between both hands, feeling the ridges of her scars.

“That’s it, precious,” he groaned as his eyes rolled back and he felt his peak rising, “fuck, that’s so good.”

He felt her squirming as he pushed her head down, past the resistance of her throat. The slick noise of her around him added to the pool of heat in his core. He squeeze his thigh, sinking her nails in as she gagged around him. He moved his hand down to her jaw and cradled her face as he fucked it. He felt warmth leak onto his hand. She was crying.

He didn’t care. He couldn’t. He was going to cum. He need to cum.

[fountainpenguin]

Hey!

I love what you done with the fairly odd parents, it has to be the most in-depth fan made aus I have ever read. I actually haven't read all of it, because it kinda overwhelms me a bit. But the parts I have read have blown me away.

And I was wondering with "The Fairly Oddparents: A New Wish" being released are thinking of using it for your own au or are you going to leave the au as it is now?

I'm just asking because I know good you are at shaping and expanding a show's lore and characters, and I would love to read your interpterion.

Thank you, I'm glad you admire my work!

I don't even know where to watch the show, honestly; I haven't kept up with any news. The only reason I know it exists is because @zachbrightside keeps me in the loop. I'm hesitant to get my hopes up and I don't want to get pulled into fandom negativity, so I'm keeping my distance.

I'd like to watch it when I'm ready, but I can't confirm I'll treat it as canon. Those long worldbuilding posts took a lot of time and energy that I don't have as much as I used to. If people ask, I'm happy to discuss the worldbuilding for the Riddleverse canon, but I think I've answered everything that I needed to know as the author. I don't know what the missing gaps for readers are, but I'm happy to answer questions if asked!

- If I'm asked about the main show and spin-off media I'm familiar with. Please don't send me spoilers about "A New Wish," as I am trying to avoid spoilers. - For anyone planning to send Asks, please remember my policy is that if you come into my house and ask me a question, I will answer it according to my worldbuilding and/or personal interpretation. I'd love to chat about FOP, but remember that I'm in "book club brain" when answering Asks, and you should not send me asks if you're uncomfortable with the answer being "No, I don't see it that way" or "I didn't like how X was portrayed."

I'm planning to post some of my worldbuilding info to AO3 as a meta essay / lore essay, as I recently discovered that's allowed there, and hopefully that introduces people to some of my lore if they have an easier time navigating there than on my blog :)

I'm planning to do that starting next Friday, as I'm hoping Chapter 9 of Criminal Experience will be the last and then I can give my Fridays back to FOP stuff.

tl;dr - If new info about the magical beings is revealed, particularly the Anti-Fairy or Pixie cultures, then there might be a place for it in my current works, which focus on the cloudlands more than on humans. But I enjoy the cultures as they are, so I don't think I need to supplement them with potentially non-canon info from yet another spin-off.

Honestly, right now I just want to keep my head down and get the 'fics I have done before I get carried away on new ideas :) But I do incorporate the things I can (like adding Tyler to Timmy's family tree), so if something clicks, maybe it will make it into a 'fic.

[narcissistcookbook]

short book review, The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix

I liked most of this a lot. The protagonist is a bunch of fun to follow around, there were some genuinely creepy bits and a couple of twists that caught me out. Unfortunately the story is let down by the very ending - the last three chapters felt half-baked.

Major spoilers after the break:

The triple twist about the killers got me. I thought I was smart for guessing it was Skye early on, but then I didn't bother thinking beyond that conclusion and was effectively sideswiped by Steph being in on it as well.

The whole finale though - from Steph driving away from a dying Lynnette, up through the arrival at Red Lake, to confronting the killers, and the final chapter - was so disappointing.

I loved that I kept finding out about the narrator's dirty secrets as the story unfolded. There was a point where I wondered if she'd been behind it.

The fakeout of Lynnette abandoning Steph at Chrissy's place fully got me and part of me wishes Hendrix had pulled the trigger on it, but it was fine that he didn't. After 3/4s of a novel spent finding out that the main character is kinda shit and useless, that would have been a fully earned twist.

The killers-using-guns subversion was deeply uninteresting - I get what Hendrix was trying to do I think, but guns don't belong in that world. They undo all the tension. I know Hendrix understands this because he explains it earlier in the story, so having the final confrontation be Lynnette running away from a dude with a machine gun felt totally out of touch. The observation the story implies is

"well why did you want a sequence full of brutal slayings, hmmm? what does that say about you? aren't you part of the problem?"

and like fuck off you know? I have a strong dislike for that kind of meta buck-passing. I'm reading the book because I enjoy spooks and grissliness, don't try and high road me about that right at the end.

Red Lake didn't feel like it made any sense as a setting for the finale either. It had little to no resonation with or meaning to the main character.

Given that Chrissy was the mirror image of Lynnette, Chrissy's murder museum would have been a better setting for a finale wouldn't it? Scream 6 ended up doing something like that two years after this book was published.

Heather was an interesting but underexplored character, and her reveal that there was probably something supernatural going on with her story was fun. Although I felt a little too spin-off baited by the last mention of her.

I'm not as down on as it as I sound. I enjoyed the book, I'm just sad that the ending was almost entirely botched because if the landing had been stuck it would have been a great story.