#3rd person pov

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 2

Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Y/N's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison

Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF.

Part One

✨💫

Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Y/N’s story? What were those burns from? If Y/N was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.

The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”

Feyre didn’t so much as move.

Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prison and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amren was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.

Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.

“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.

“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.

“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”

“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”

Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.

The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”

They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.

“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”

“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly not.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”

There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Y/N. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”

Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.” 

Another pause and Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left with the scars from the burns.”

The image of Y/N gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Y/N. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Y/N, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”

The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males to be able to produce another generation of warriors. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned, she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Y/N before either of them even considered it. Y/N interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”

The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Y/N’s hair came into her mind’s eye.

“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Y/N. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Y/N was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Y/N, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just clip them.”    

The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.    

“I suspect that if Y/N was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Y/N’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Y/N himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Y/N after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Y/N after the name of a bakery in Velaris she adored. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Y/N is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”   

The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Y/N’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Y/N were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.

[paint-the-walls-white]

Sweet Simon Riley

I've been desperate for some good smut lately, then I remembered I have capable hands lol.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, Daddy kink, body worship, praise, pet names, overstimulation, breeding kink (lil bit)

After coming home from a long day at work, you dropped your purse and shoes at the door and slumped on the couch. A single encounter with a co-worker had ruined your entire day:

"Oh! Congratulations! Are you excited?"

You looked at her puzzled, "For what?"

"You know!" She gestured at your stomach, "When is the baby coming?"

A sour feeling had made it's way into your gut. "I'm.. I'm not pregnant."

She just awkwardly smiled and waved you off.

'What the hell?'

You grabbed at your soft stomach.. It was true you put on a little weight, but you hade been stressed out!

You sighed, walking into the bathroom where you inspected yourself in the mirror. Your stretch marks had become more prominent.. and you could see some cellulite forming on your thighs..

Tears flooded from your eyes. 'Maybe I should diet.. I've already eaten plenty today..'

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard your husband Simon come through the front door, calling out for you,

"Lovie? y' home?"

"Yeah!" You called back to him, stepping into the bedroom to change into looser fitting clothes.

Simon walked into the bedroom and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"Hi sweet heart," he brushed his hand over your tear streaked cheek, "What's wrong baby? Why were you crying?"

You sniffed dramatically, "Oh.. nothing just allergies.." You tried to hold his gaze, but the intensity of it made you glance away, giving up your lie.

"What's really wrong love?" Simon cupped your cheeks in your face. you couldn't help but notice how much of your face he was holding, making you sob,

"I-It's so stupid..! It's not something for you to worry about.." You forcefully pushed his hands off your cheeks and walked of to hide in the bathroom.

He tried to follow in behind you, worried and slightly hurt.

"Love. you need t' tell me wha's wrong. Righ' Now."

You quietly said what the issue was, but he didn't hear you. "What baby?"

"I-I feel fat, Ok? and I feel ugly... And your gonna leave me because I'm getting fat!"

You heard nothing on the other side of the door, so you cracked it open to see Simon with complete shock across his face. He regained composure and chuckled lightly.

"Lovie, yer no' fat. Yer thick and gorgeous and M' not gonna leave you because yer body is changin'."

He pulled you in, firmly squeezing your ass before throwing you over his shoulder and headed for the bedroom.

"S-Simon! Put me down-! I'm heavy!"

Simon slapped a heavy hand to your ass, chuckling at the whine what escaped your lips.

"Yer like a sack of flour. I got no problem carrying ya, which is why M' gonna fuck these awful thoughts out yer head."

You squealed as he tossed you onto the bed, enjoying the treatment.

"M' gonna prove to ya yer' beautiful by worshipping every inch of your skin tonight,"

He dragged his shirt over his head and unbuckled his belt. He watched as her eyes saddened at the sight of his firm build, dark thoughts clouding her mind once again.

"Eyes up 'ere beautiful,"

Simon carefully peeled her shirt over her head and groaned at the sight, "Fuck, yer gorgeous," he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, caging her with his arms on the mattress.

"So fuckin' pretty Lovie.." He groped at her skin, relishing in her soft moans and whimpers as he kissed down her stomach, gingerly pulling off the rest of her clothes.

"Si-monn.. " she whimpered, gripping his hair tightly as he pressed firm kisses against each stretch mark on her soft stomach. He continued down her naval where he started sucking and biting at her skin.

"Yer so beautiful.. God I could look at you forever.. Fuck I have to taste you.." Simon licked at her clit, groaning at her sweet flavor as he pressed a finger against her entrance, sinking it down to the knuckle.

She arched her back, pressing into his face firmly as his nose swiped at her clit and he shoved his tongue into her. He groaned at her flavor on his tongue and locked eyes with her.

"That's it baby girl.. Eyes on me," He sunk two fingers into her, causing her to moan his name loudly, "Cum on my fingers like a good girl... cum for Daddy,"

She whimpered as the coil in her core rapidly started tightening until it snapped, creaming on his fingers.

Tears of pleasure pricked her eyes as she panted, trying to catch her breath. She watched as he pressed his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off before he lapped her clean.

"Simon-! Pleasee.. I need it..!" She squeezed her thighs around his head, making him groan into her skin.

"So fuckin' needy.. Beg for it.. Tell me how much you want Daddy's cock.."

He pulled his meaty dick from his boxers, rubbing the head of it on her spent cunt.

"Please..! I need it so bad..!"

"Then admit it.. Admit yer fuckin gorgeous.. Admit how fuckin' beautiful you are beggin' to be fucked like this.."

She whimpered as the head of his cock was pressed in, unmoving. She whined that she was pretty, that she was gorgeous and begged once again,

"Please Daddy.. please put it in..!"

She threw her head back as his girthy cock stretched her wide, feeling every vein and ripple as he pressed into her gummy cervix.

"Fuck.. yer pretty little cunt wraps so fuckin' perfect around me.. Fuckin made for me.."

He pulled out of her slowly, relishing in her sweet whines as he pressed back in, again and again until he was pounding her at a bruising pace.

He lifted a leg over his shoulder and bit into her thigh repeatedly, leaving dark marks in her skin. Simon pressed his chest to hers, making her see stars. He groaned as she squeezed around him tightly, clawing at his back.

"S-Simon-! I'm cumming!"

"Fuck.. I feel it.. yer squeezin me so tight Doll.." He groaned into her shoulder, stuffing her full of his seed as he bit into her neck.

He pulled his half-hard cock from her soaked hole, stuffing his seed back into her with two fingers. Simon lifted her knees to her chest.

"Stay like this.. I don' want you wasting a fuckin' drop.."

She nodded weakly, mewling each time he pressed his seed back into her.

A minute had passed before she was breathing somewhat normally, her mind clear from the fog of pleasure.

It made her entirely to aware of the way her skin was folding in her mid section..

"Hey, stay with me Lovie, I'm not done with you yet. I see that look in yer' eye." He sneered, flipping her onto her knees, pressing her face to the pillows,

"I'm not gonna stop until you can't even think about it.. In fact.." He harshly rubbed her clit, stuffing his cock into her without warning, causing her eyes to widen and a surprised moan to escape, "I'm not gonna stop until you can't think at all,"

She whined and whimpered at the force of his dick pressing against her cervix. It would have been painful if she hadn't been sopping wet from both of their fluids.

"Si-monnn.. pleasee.."

He pressed his cock deep into her, groaning as she squeezed around him tightly, cumming from the intrusion.

"Fuck.. that's it.. cum on my cock beautiful.."

She bit into the pillow, overstimulated and so aroused it almost hurt. But the mind blowing pleasure from him pounding into her from behind and tightly gripping her hips for leverage, made it impossible to focus on anything but what he was doing to her.

Tears flooded from her eyes, drooling on the pillow as he rutted into her, praising her body and kissing her shoulder.

"So fucking gorgeous taking my cock.. Fuck.. Im gonna fill you so fucking much.. Are you ready for it?"

She mumbled incoherently, prompting him to pull her up gently from the pillow by her hair,

"Say that again beautiful?"

"Y-yes...Simonn..pleasee.."

He pressed a kiss to her temple and rubbed her clit harshly.

"Fuck.. take it all.. I'm gonna fuckin breed you.. Show that bitch how fuckin sexy you are pregnant or not.. Fuckk.."

Her eyes rolled into her head as he fucked his load into her, squeezing around his cock as he forced another orgasm from her.

"You're so fuckin beautiful when you cum for me baby girl.. "

He pulled out of her, easing her down on the bed and laying next to her, pulling her close to his chest.

She pressed her cheek against his hot skin as she attempted to catch her breath.

"Th-Thank you.. You didn't have to do that.."

She looked at him, eyes glossed over from the pleasure. He chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

"Of course I did, you needed to feel beautiful.. And Im gonna make you feel beautiful every hour of every day, over and over again,"

He pinned her down on the mattress, ready to go again. She just smiled contently, happy to have the most perfect man she could ask for.

[ghouljams]

just read the witch!price, amazing awestruck heartstopping

i really like this one :)

(mostly bc i overwork myself and need to ve saved )

I like witch!Price a lot! He's fun. I love a man determined to go steal his wife.

In my mind witch!Price is a soldier that stumbled into magic! He's rated for combat and has learned everything on the fly. I think he's pulled power from every enemy he's defeated, stolen but hard earned magic. He's big on improvising, a bit of a savant with his tool usage. Lots of on the fly curses and fuses instead of candles. He absolutely uses the title of "witch" too, it's sort of his own private joke.

Why'd he wanna steal the sun? No clue. At first I thought he'd wanna steal fae!Witch for military use, big time magic in there that could be very useful. BUT I don't think he knew the sun was going to be a person, and once he saw her he couldn't just leave her there. Pretty thing all chained up, barely lifting a hand to defend herself against him, he couldn't stand it. The injustice of it. No, she had to go with him because leaving her there would be cruel(he had to have her, had to keep her for himself, his arms are a much sweeter hold over her than iron)

Fae!Witch of course is more than happy to get the hell out of there and be plopped on the captain's desk. Looking around at all the medals and papers, swirling her magic around the room while she waits for Price to figure out what to do with her. "You need a teacher," she offers.

"Managed this long without one," Price grumbles, sorting through the herbs in his cabinet.

"I'm very good at it," she swings her feet, swims her fingers through the light streaming in through his window. Price stops his searching, fingers tight around a store bought cinnamon shaker as he looks at her.

"Bet you're good at a lot of things," he says, voice thick, watching the light dance over her skin. He leaves his cabinet to touch her, to feel the warmth of her as he trails his fingers over her thighs. It's an invitation, always an invitation. He'd never presuppose to try anything she didn't want.

"I am," she tells him with a smile, leaning to hook a finger in one of his belt loops, "but I'm best at magic."

[1000roughdrafts]

If You're Gonna Lie...

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been seeing each other for quite a while, but when Dean keeps disappearing on Y/N, it leaves her confused on where they stand. Dean, not wanting to give away his secret line of work, continues to lie to Y/N about why he keeps showing up late. When she confronts him, will he continue to lie or will he tell her the truth?

A/N: This is a fic inspired by the song If You're Gonna Lie by Fletcher

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mild language, alcohol mentioned, implied infidelity, sex mentioned, slight angst, relationship conflict

Y/N's eyes stare blankly at the lipstick stained wine glass on the table in front of her. In the pit of her stomach brews regret and shame that she had spent all damn day preparing dinner and picking out a wine for Dean's seven o'clock arrival. Now at ten she sits alone with untouched plates and an empty bottle of wine.

The ticking of the clock mocks her, reminding her of the little voice inside of her that screamed not to trust him. Tightening her lips, she licks them, collecting the final drops of wine that replace the red lipstick she had been wearing. Her body buzzes in a Merlot induced high so she places her hand on the table to steady herself as she stands. She collects the plates and glasses slowly, fighting the urge to shatter them across the floor. 

Her nose crinkles as she scrapes the cold food into the trash aggressively with her fork. She sets the dishes into the dishwasher and starts it before swaying over to sit on the couch. Pulling out her phone she types a message about not appreciating being stood up for the fourth fucking time, but she deletes it and swipes down to click on the location icon.

She scoffs with a smile of disbelief, "oh, great! A motel near the strip club!" Y/N chucks her phone at the carpet before bringing her hands up to her face as soft sobs rock her body. She feels herself sinking more and more into the leather couch as she cries, and she must've dozed off at some point because she's jolted awake by a knock on the door.

The pounding of her heart is all she can hear as she quickly wipes her face. She's slow to bring herself to her feet, and once she does she glances at the clock. She groans. Midnight. Great. She thinks, rolling her eyes.

There's another knock, more anxious and loud now. "Hold on!" she shouts, using the furniture to keep her steady as she walks towards the banging.

Her head falls back against her neck when she sees Dean through the peephole. She lets out a soft, quiet breath and brings her head back up, resting her forehead in her hand. Her eyes close tight and she debates whether or not to let him in. He knocks again, more aggressively now.

She growls, shaking her hands out next to her. Suddenly, her ears ring and she swears she could even hear the buzzing of the lights above her. She takes another deep breath as she slowly unlocks the chain. She moves down to unlock the door, and then rests her hand on the door knob for a moment.

With a hand on her hip, she whips the door open and tries to make it very clear to Dean that she's pissed, but damnit she'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited to see him.

"Y/N! Thank you, I am so sorry!" he says, holding up his hands. There’s a slight bend to his knees as if to make him appear smaller. His eyebrows furrow, enhancing the shallow wrinkles on his forehead. She knows he's just going to feed her another story, and she stopped believing them a while ago, but she'd rather hear his lies than to have to hear him say goodbye.

So she says nothing, but leaves the door open as she turns around to walk back to her living room. He rushes in after her, closing the door behind him. When she plops onto the couch, he drops next to her, hands on her knees as he faces her.

"Y/N, please let me explain," he pleads, and she shrugs for him to go ahead, "I was shooting the shit with the guys at this bar, and," he starts.

"Let me guess, 'time just slipped away from you', right?" Y/N scoffs, her cheeks and jaw tighten as she fights the tears that plead to be released.

His face relaxes, and he swallows hard before allowing his mouth to hang open slightly. "Yeah," he says softly.

"You know, Dean," she says, and he focuses intently on her face, lit partially by the TV. His eyes flutter between hers, the way the light glimmers in her eyes nearly distracts him from her words, "you're starting to get repetitive," she says, eyes trained to the floor.

His body tenses, and his lips form a flat line. "Yeah," he nods. "I know. And I’m sorry," he says.

There's a long pause between them as she collects her conflicted thoughts; on the one hand, better late than never but on the other, she knows he's lying and that kind of pain cuts deep.

"Are you?" she squeaks out before she can stop herself, eyes darting at him. "Cause you say you were out with friends, but I know you were with another girl."

"What are you talking about,Y/N?" he says, eyes squinting. “I’m only seeing you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, heat filling her chest, "I checked your location, but good fucking try." She takes in a deep breath. "I don't wanna fight, Dean," she slurs, "can we just lay down?"

Dean pushes his hands onto his thighs to bring himself to his feet, looking down at her for a moment before holding his hand out to her.

"Come on," he says gingerly. When she places her hand in his, he helps her to her feet, "get your shoes on," he adds.

"What? Why?" she asks, wide eyes.

With raised eyebrows, he sighs, "because I wanna show you something."

----

Y/N sits in the passenger seat of Dean's Impala with her arms crossed for the entirety of their near silent drive. She watches the window fog as Dean slows to round the corner of the motel parking lot.

"This where you saw me? My location?" he asks.

Uncrossing her arms, Y/N winds around in the seat to look for the strip club, falling back in her seat when she spots it, "yup."

Turning off the engine, he rolls out of the car and jogs to her side to help her out. Dean guides her to the door and Y/N feels like her heart could jump out of her chest. She listens to the howl of the wind as he inserts the key. When he opens the door, she immediately sees a tall, dark haired man in the room. Confused, she looks over at Dean.

"This is my brother, Sam," he says quickly, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her into the room. "And, uh," he closes the door behind him, quickly raising his eyebrows at Sam's perplexed expression. "We have a pretty… ridiculous job," he adds.

She squints one eye, "Yeah, I remember you telling me that, but you wouldn't tell me what the job is," she snaps.

"Yeah," Sam says, shutting his book with one hand, holding the other out with a finger pointed at his brother, "and for good reason.” Dean brushes him off with a wave of his hand. "Dean, what are you doing?" Sam forces a quick, curt smile at Y/N, and takes a few steps closer to him, "can I talk to you? Outside," he says through gritted teeth.

Dean turns the corners of his lips down and shakes his head. He couldn't bear to see Y/N as hurt as she was tonight, and knowing that it was because of him and his lies made him realize he needed to come clean. And if that meant she thought he was crazy and never wanted to see him again, well... at least she would finally have the truth.

Taking her hands in his, he guides her to the bed and gestures for her to sit. He glances over at Sam, who utters under his breath "this better be worth it." Dean shrugs before sitting on the bed across from her, ignoring its whine under his weight.

"Listen Y/N, the truth is that Sam and I are-" he stops, shaking his head as he looks down into his folded hands. The leaky faucet from the bathroom drips a few times before he carries on, "listen, this is gonna sound nuts, so I need you to just... just hear me out, please."

She nods, "okay..."

He lets out a shaky breath, "ghosts, demons, vampires... it's all real," he begins, watching her face carefully for any signs of disgust or fear, "and the short story is that Sam and I... we, uh... we hunt and kill them."

Y/N's silent for a while, not exactly sure how to take this so-called confession. As far as she's concerned it's yet another lie. She glances over at Sam and he looks down at the ground, his face scrunched in a frown.

"Is this true?" she asks Sam, and his eyes dart at Dean and then her.

He brings a hand to his mouth, sweeping it down and around his bottom lip. He sighs, throwing his hands out and sits on the bed next to Dean. "Yeah, 'fraid so," he says.

Turning her attention to Dean now, she says, "so... what, you drive around the country fighting bad guys with your brother like some fucking superhero and come into my town when you want... what, a good fuck or something?"

Dean scoots closer to Y/N, grabbing her hands in his, "no, no, no. It's nothing like that," he pauses, "I mean, we do drive around the country ‘fighting bad guys’, I guess but..." he stalls again, trying to find the right words.

"Well, what is it like, then? Because this feels like it’s either an elaborate way of trying to get rid of me, or you're trying to manipulate me into being okay with the way things have been so far. And I'm not. I need someone who's going to show up on time. Someone who won't lie to me."

"I swear to you, the lies are over," Dean pleads. "At least let me prove it to you."

"How? How're you gonna do that?" Y/N asks, arms crossed.

Dean glances at Sam, begging for his help with his eyes. Sam rolls his eyes, boots clacking against the hardwood floor as he walks over to grab the book he'd been reading.

He takes it to sit back down with Dean and Y/N. He flips the book around to show Y/N the page he was on, and his voice echoes in the room as he explains the monster they're hunting and how it's about an hour south of her town, but Dean wanted to stop by to see Y/N first.

Y/N's hesitant, but not willing to lose Dean, not yet, so she takes the chance. "You're not in the clear yet, Dean, but I'm tired and I just wanna go to bed. Can I sleep here and we'll figure the rest out in the morning?"

"Yeah, of course," he says, bringing himself to his feet, "uh, you can take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

"No. If you're gonna lie, at least do it in the bed."

~~~

If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane's Pets Chapter 97: Miracle (Season Finale)

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Puppy regrets nodding about Bunny killing Master almost immediately after she does it. This is what anger does, makes her act irrationally in ways that will get others hurt. She shouldn't have encouraged him, it can only make things worse.

She shakes her head immediately after she nods, but Bunny doesn't seem nearly as impacted by that as he was by her nod.

Master lets her and Bunny bring Kitty upstairs and take care of them. They’re hardly injured at all. Just some acid burns on their toes. It’ll make it hard to walk, but Puppy won’t mind helping.

They’re really out of it, so she and Bunny get them set up all cozy on the couch with some snacks.

“I’m sorry.” Bunny whispers over and over to them. “I’m so sorry, I won’t let this happen ever again.”

After Kitty’s settled in, Bunny pulls Puppy aside.

“I think you’re really brave, you know. And strong. And I want you to know I love you no matter what happens.”

He's going to do something really stupid. That's the only reason he'd say that.

Her worry must be visible on her face, because Bunny looks sad.

"It's all going to be okay." He hugs her tightly, then runs off to his room. He can't use his hands, so hopefully he won't be able to do anything too stupid…

She really doesn't want to have to watch him get his hands and tongue cut off. She should supervise him, just to make sure he didn't find a way to cast without hands, but Kitty also needs supervision.

She thinks that if Kitty tries to get themself hurt, she'd be able to stop them, but she's not sure about Bunny. So she stays in the living room where she knows she can be useful, as much as leaving Bunny to his own devices pains her.

~~

You've just had the most wonderful idea.

Everything has magic in it, first of all. Barron (you'll just have to push through the discomfort and think about it) and its books tended to only use twigs, leaves, and rocks, but theoretically anything could be used to cast, especially if it's less refined and closer to nature. And Puppy communicated to you that Jane's blood is important… it only makes sense to use that to cast. You're a genius!

If you manage to kill her, you probably won't be able to cast anymore, but you're okay with that. Magic no longer existing is a small price to pay in order to be free of Jane.

Oh, does that have something to do with how she's not usually affected by magic? If she was made immortal by the same thing that made magic possible, it doesn't seem too crazy to think she wouldn't be impacted by magic in the same way everything else is…

Wait. Wait wait wait wait- her blood has to do with her immortality. Her immortality has to do with the creation of magic, which means that her immortality (and therefore blood) is connected to why magic doesn't work on her the same way. So maybe, if she had enough normal blood in her body… magic might work normally on her, and she might be able to die!

"Jane! Jane! I have an idea on how to kill you! Jane!"

Jane appears sitting on your bed. "My stupid Bunny has an idea? Don't hurt yourself."

"Shut up. Have you ever tried to replace your blood with a mortal's?"

"Yes. Do you really think no one's thought of that before you?"

That's a bit demoralizing, but you continue. "Have you ever had someone cast magic on you while there was mortal blood in you? Oh, oh! And had someone cast using your blood, at the same time? So like, there's a spell on the normal blood and a spell on the immortal blood?"

Jane blinks. "I… not at the same time…" She regains her composure swiftly. "But I have tried those separately. Why would doing them at the same time work?"

You've got her. There's no way she won't want to try. "Well it would probably be impossible to replace all your blood with mortal blood, so it makes sense why that one wouldn't work on its own. As for using your blood to cast… well, did it have any effect when you tried it on its own? Or did nothing happen at all, like when I tried to make you intangible?"

"Nothing happened." Jane is sounding more and more annoyed.

"What spells did you try? I guess that since your blood works different it wouldn't be able to cast the same things the same way…"

"...What makes you so sure that my blood works different?"

Shit, you don't want to get Puppy in trouble. "It doesn't matter. What spells did you try?"

She rolls her eyes, but luckily she doesn't seem to care enough to push it. Maybe she already knew, or figured it out (did you ask Puppy while Jane could've been listening? You can't remember). "Any spell that had even a tiny chance of killing me."

"Hmm… and you cast it? Or did someone else?"

"Someone else. I can't cast, at least not the way mages can. Which I know because I tried, many times."

Oh, it's a good thing you asked, since she talks about it saying 'I' instead of 'we.' You suppose it does make sense for her to think about mortals that helped her in the past as just extensions of herself.

Another idea is starting to form. You've been forcing yourself to think about Barron a lot lately, and its death (along with the others') is fresh in your mind after thinking Kitty was dead. You think 'what would Barron do?' You think about your first time meeting it. 

"Well… your blood, uh, makes more of itself only while it's inside your body, right? So maybe using it to cast would only work if it was still inside your body? I could… I could carve a rune into a rock, then like… cut you open and put it inside you and cast, so that it would have the normal magic of the rock and the weird magic of your blood." Man, this is a pretty gory conversation… Living here has really desensitized you.

Jane tilts her head to the side. "...worth a shot."

"Wha- you've never tried that before?" You were expecting to have to give more justifications as to why it would be different this time.

"I have reason to believe my blood maintains its properties while it's outside my body, but you're right that it only replicates while it's in my veins. So it's worth a shot, even if nothing comes of it. Come downstairs."

Jane vanishes.

This could go very, very bad, but you leave your room and go down the stairs to the basement anyway, purposefully avoiding looking at Puppy and Kitty's reactions.

Jane is setting up some kind of scary looking contraption. You instinctually step back when you see it.

"Relax, it's not for you. You've seen how instantaneous my healing is, this is to hold my arm open while you… hey, your hands are still broken! Go grab Kitty and Puppy, you can instruct them on how to carve your runes or whatever. That works out better anyway, I'd have to cut off your hands if you did it yourself, or no one would believe my threats again."

You run back upstairs. You can't stop the smile starting to form on your face. This might work. This might actually work! Even Jane thinks it might work!

"You guys need to come downstairs. Not for a punishment! Probably. I suggested a way to maybe kill Jane and she agreed! But I need your help cause I can't use my hands right now. Um, Puppy, could you help me get supplies from my room?"

She looks skeptical, but follows anyway. Kitty wordlessly goes down the stairs into the basement, walking on their heels.

You direct Puppy on what materials to grab, and then you and her go down into the basement too.

Jane is sitting in a chair that wasn't there before, with the scary contraption beside her. "Alright! Tell them what to do. You two, do what Bunny says for now."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. Your plan is complicated, so you're afraid you'll miss a step. 

You direct Puppy on what rune to draw on a leaf (you've decided engraving a rock would take too long) and have tell Kitty how to cast a healing spell with the stuff you've already got prepared. Their magic makes you taste sour candy.

You feel the bones in your hands mend. "Perfect, thank you Kitty. First I want to try casting with your blood. I want to see if it can do things like healing and teleporting, since those are the magic things you can do."

Jane scoffs. "My magic doesn't heal me. It keeps me in the state I was right before- it keeps me in this specific state. To call any of my powers healing is ridiculous, the entire point is for me to suffer."

You gasp. She said that so casually, like it wasn't the last piece of the puzzle. Has she said that before? Maybe she has, and you didn't realize the importance.

She's tried so many different ways to kill herself. If the purpose of her magic isn't to make people miserable, what could it possibly be?

Magic responds strongly to intention. Her blood, her magic… what if it only works if the end result is more suffering? 

Okay, drop the replacing some of her blood with yours idea. You just need her blood. "Do you have, like, a bloodbag in your void?"

"I have everything in my void." Jane sets up a blood draw quickly herself. "Will that be enough?"

You nod. You shouldn't need much at all. You know why using her blood to cast didn't work when she tried it before…

Well, you don't know. Which is why this first step is important. You set the blood bag aside. "Puppy, hand me that leaf you drew on like I told you."

She hands you the leaf, her expression unreadable.

Jane laughs. "You know that if this doesn't kill me I'll have to cut off your hands and tongue, right? Since you're casting it yourself."

"Yep." You examine Jane's contraption. "So how does this work?"

"It'll cut and hold the flesh open while you stick the leaf in there. You'll have to do it as fast as possible. Are you ready?" She puts her arm in the contraption and holds down a lever.

You position the leaf right above where it looks like the contraption will cut. "Ready."

She releases the lever and the contraption slices and pulls, ripping skin and then muscle and holding the rip open. You can see the flesh trying to reunite, straining against the contraption. Ew. Jane doesn't flinch.

You thrust the leaf forward into the wound (ew ew ew ew) and chant the spell words, then yank your hand away and pull the contraption off. Her skin mends around the leaf.

Magic responds to intention. Usually that means that it doesn't work unless you have the right intentions, but it can benefit you too. You want the force-field to hold her in place while leaving a hole for magic to get through, and it does. Instead of being a sphere around her, it's shaped the same as her so that she can't move, with a hole over her chest.

"...why did you do that?" Jane looks more confused than anything.

She teleports, but once she reappears across the room the force-field is still around her. It worked! You can't cast spells on her, but you can cast spells on the area around her, and since the leaf's inside her it will move with her, so the spell is always on the area around her! And she can't teleport it out, and she can't cut it out because she can't move her arms. It really worked! So long as you keep the spell up, she won't be able to hurt anyone.

You watch as the realization dawns on her. "Ha ha. So clever. Except the spell will still only work until you lose focus, and with your brain damage I doubt I'll have to wait long… And if I told my Puppy to attack you, she would, and you'd lose focus even faster."

"I know. I just needed… insurance. I need you to not be able to hurt anyone while I try this. Sit back down, I think my idea will work."

She appears back in the chair and rolls her eyes. You pick the blood bag back up.

"Puppy… I need you to cast this spell for me. You… her magic, it only causes suffering right?"

She nods hesitantly.

"That's it's purpose?"

She nods again, and you feel giddy. You were right! Puppy confirmed it!

"So if we want to cast with her blood, it has to be to cause suffering. And I think… you're the only one who can try to kill Jane and see it as a cause of suffering. I think that you're the only one here who's even capable of processing Jane's death as a bad thing." You're not positive, but based on the way she acts around Jane, and some of the things that Kitty's told you… it's possible. Her hatred for Jane doesn't seem to be as strong as yours and Kitty's, at the very least.

Tears well up in her eyes, and she nods slowly.

You hand her the blood bag. "Okay, I need you to, like, fingerpaint with the blood." You describe the rune to her and she dutifully paints it on the floor.

"And then… you need to say the spell words." There are probably other ways to cast without the ability to speak, but you don't know them.

Jane has been watching silently, but when Puppy looks at her pleadingly she speaks up. "I'm not going to give you permission to speak. If you actually think this is going to work, you don't need my permission, because I won't be able to punish you. And if you don't think it'll work… you have no reason to do it."

Tears stream down Puppy's face. You don't know what to do– if it doesn't work, you don't want Puppy getting hurt because of you.

Kitty has been mostly quiet, but now they speak up. "...Puppy. You've got this. If it doesn't work… we'll keep trying, and she won't be able to hurt you– or anyone, because of the forcefield. And… if your worry is about us getting hurt… we're willing to risk that. Right, Bunny?"

"Right."

"Please, Puppy… I can't do this anymore. I can't– I wouldn't be able to go on knowing that we had a chance and we didn't take it. Please."

Puppy wipes her eyes, unclips and removes her muzzle, and hesitantly takes off her collar. Jane doesn't say anything.

You quickly tell her the spell words, and she repeats them. Her tears mix with the blood on the ground.

When she's finished, Jane goes unnaturally still. Her eyes lose focus. Despite how hopeful you were, your first thought is oh, she's fucking with us.

If it worked… she shouldn't be able to heal (or whatever she wants to call it) anymore, right?

You take one of the many knives laid out in the basement and drive it through the hole in the forcefield, into her chest, then pull it out. The wound doesn't heal.

"Guys- guys!" You drop the forcefield and slit her throat. It bleeds and it keeps bleeding and there's not even the slightest pull bringing the flesh back together.

"She's dead. Jane is dead. She's- she's-"

It doesn't feel all that different to when you killed other people under her orders. You feel kind of… numb. Everything feels too quiet. You've daydreamed about this for so long, but you don't feel triumphant like you expected. Just… tired.

And you always pictured dying right after. Sacrificing your and Jane's life for Puppy and Kitty's. But you're alive. You're alive and Jane is dead.

A/N: Everything so far has built up to this... I hope it's at least a little good! Let me know if I should tag anything else, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list! Season 4 will begin April 22nd at 5:00PM EST.

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @thecosmicmap @quins-whump-stuff

@fuckcapitalismasshole

[izzypanda1313]

Vashwood Circus AU bc I listened to Britney Spears 

Hi this is my first fanfic in like 5 years and my first fluff fanfic ever! I hope y’all like it!

Content : Fluff, Vash x Wolfwood, Trigun, Guns

The never ending piles of posters coating the walls of Julys streets have slowly been changing, the wanted posters being covered by posters of a new attraction in town. Wolfwood was smoking in an alley and realized a face on one of the posters looked oddly familiar. After taking a step closer to examine the poster, he noticed a certain blonde head of hair in the middle. He snickered to himself, putting out his cigarette. “Geez blondie, what did you get yourself into this time?” He ripped the poster off the wall and picked up his cross, walking to the destination on the poster. 

Vash was tired of the same thing day in and day out, being put on show multiple times and day. He put up with it though, telling himself that each show was one closer to getting Tonis a new arm. Damn prosthetic parts are hard to come by and they’re hella expensive too, especially for the size it’d have to be. Little guy didn’t deserve that and vash blames himself for it every day. He hopes with this, he’ll earn their trust again and he’ll be able to play with them and see them grow. Vash's smile faded, thinking back to when he last saw them. His boss called just then, telling him the next show was to start in 30 minutes. Vash took a deep breath. “Just a few more to go…”

Wolfwood walks up to this giant tent, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into. He’s not normally a circus kinda guy, but he’s hella curious to see what vash has in store. He grabs a seat in the front row so he can see everything. The ringmaster comes out and announces the acts as they’re coming out. Wolfwoods not super interested in most of the acts as they’re pretty generic circus acts; a tightrope walker, an animal jumping through hoops etc. etc. Right as he’s about to pass out from boredom, the ring leader announces that the next act will have live ammunition fired. This peaks wolfwoods interest and wakes him up. This is the part he’s been waiting for this whole time. “Took ya long enough, bastard.” Wolfwood says to himself under his breath. “Alright blondie, show me what you've got.” 

Thankfully vashs act is just shooting a few things while they’re in motion. It’s simple enough and it excites people for some reason, he doesn’t really understand why. In the middle of his act, he spots an oh so familiar cross out of the corner of his eye and the familiar scent of cigarettes and alcohol wafts his way. He turns his full attention to the direction of the cross, smiling at the grumpy man sitting there watching him. “You there! The one with the cross!” Vash shouts out, pointing to him. This shocks both wolfwood and vashs boss, as he’s not supposed to do this. Before his boss can say anything, vash continues. “Will you come up here and join me for my next trick?” Wolfwood laughs and agrees, walking towards vash in the center of the ring. 

As wolfwood gets close to vash he puts one hand on his shoulder. “So this is where you’ve been this whole time, huh? You disappeared on me blondie.” It’d been so long since vash heard wolfwoods voice, let alone that nickname and he smiled while listening to it. Getting back to business, vash pushed wolfwoods hand off his shoulder and announces “I will have my volunteer hold a bullet between two fingers and then with my amazing marksmanship, will flawlessly shoot it out of his grasp without harming him!” An audible gasp and whispering can be heard across the tent and the ringleader is nervously pacing back and forth. Wolfwood looks slightly taken aback but quickly composes himself. “Really blondie? You sure about that? You won’t hit me?” He teases. Vash responds “You of all people know how good my aim is. I mean unless your too scared to do it…” he trails, knowing that last bit would rile wolfwood up. He grunts, not wanting to look scared. “You better not mess up blondie.” 

Wolfwood grabs the bullet in vashs outstretched hand and is directed to stand 20-30 feet away from him. Wolfwood sets his cross down and leans against it, looking bored but wanting to play along with whatever vash had planned. Vash starts rambling about whatever, getting the crowd hyped again. Wolfwoods eyes never leave vashs face. Once vash looks back to wolfwood and nods, he holds up the bullet between his thumb and pointer while chuckling to himself. Vash takes aim and winks at wolfwood right as he fires, hitting the bullet right out of wolfwoods fingers. Wolfwood lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and laughs. The crowd goes wild and the ringleader lets out a sigh of relief. Vash motions to wolfwood to come back over and loudly thanks him and gives him a round of applause, then gesturing to him to sit back down as vash heads back to his dressing room. 

Wolfwood instead follows Vash back to his  dressing room. “So blondie, how long have ya been doing this for?” The deep voice makes vash jump a little. “You're not supposed to be back here! And that’s really none of your business either!” Wolfwood looks around his area and notices a few pictures taped to his vanity mirror. The people and places in them varied, some were of Meryl and drunkle, some were of himself and some were of the places he’d been to. Vash noticed him looking over them and rushed to try to explain them. “You have a lot of pictures here blondie.” Vashs face is flushed. “What’s it to you?” Wolfwood lights another cigg and takes a hit. “You've been missing for a while, did ya know that? You kinda just disappeared one day without telling anyone. I was afraid your jumpy ass got into trouble again.” Vashs eyes soften at his words. “Wolfwood, you were worried? Is that what this is all about? How’d you even know I was here? I don’t remember telling anyone..”

Wolfwood pulls the poster out of his pocket. “Your face is kinda plastered all over town. It’s a little hard to miss there.” He could tell by the look on vashs face he didn’t know what he was talking about. Wolfwood sighed. “So why’d you join the circus business anyway? It’s not very humanoid typhoon of you.” Wolfwood snickered to himself with that last part. Vash got quiet and started fiddling with his fingers. Wolfwood noticed and grabbed his chin and made him look up at him. “Hey…what is it? We used to be so close. You can tell me anything, ya know.” There wasn’t much vash could keep from wolfwood, especially after finally seeing him after so long. It’d been, what? 2 years? He missed that familiar scent and welcoming aura. It brought him back and it was like he never left. He breathed a sigh of relief and hugged wolfwood. 

Vash took a couple minutes but then started talking into wolfwoods shoulder, still hugging him and not letting go. “I still feel like it was my fault that Tonis lost his arm and well, prosthetics aren’t cheap. I can’t exactly get a normal job with the massive bounty on my head and they said they were looking for new acts. That’s why we joined. We were gonna quit once we worked up the money to get Tonis his own prosthetic arm so he could kinda go back to being a normal kid, well as much as he can that is. I’m almost there, I just need a little bit more time…” Wolfwood listened to him, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “How much more do you need for the prosthetic? I might be able to help you out..” Wolfwood trails. Vash looks up at him, tears in his eyes. Wolfwood knows how much this kid means to vash and he also has a soft spot for kids. “However much you need, I’ve got it. You can’t keep doing this blondie, it’s draining you.”

Vash nodded in agreement, knowing he was right and that there was no point in arguing with him. Vash goes through how much he had left and let wolfwood know. Wolfwood took no time getting out his checkbook and writing the full amount on it. It was knives bank number anyway so it didn’t affect him. 

A few weeks later,vash and wolfwood were back in Jeneora Rock and vash started talking to Rosa. After a couple minutes, he pulled the new prosthetic arm out of his bag and explained it was for Tonis. They both collapsed into a hug and started crying in each others arms. Wolfwood looked on with a small smile on his face. As they were putting the new arm on Tonis, he started talking to him and offered him a sucker while telling him jokes and getting to know him. 

After leaving, vash and wolfwood decided to continue exploring No mans land together and vowed to not disappear from each other again. 

[vvyvernicus]

When reading 3rd person books/fanfiction, which do you prefer?

For example:

'Of course now he's deciding to act like a pompous ass.' (Steve's thoughts written out.)

Vs.

'Steve thought at this point in time, Charlie couldn't have been more of a self centered douchebag.'

[safiresyrup]

I saw me from behind

watching you on, but from afar

I wouldn't have known, If I should choose to go

Someone make my mind up for me,

Somehow.

-s's.

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N

Summary - Feyre meets Rhys's Inner Circle and witnesses the strength of the mating bond.

Warnings - abusive family mentioned.

Other Notes - 1k words; Please note that most of these lines/plot points are inspired or directly quoted from ACOMAF; I originally posted this where Reader was given the name 'Vee' but am putting this one out for anyone who might prefer y/n.

Part Two

✨💫

Feyre looked up to see the same two males from earlier standing in the doorway, grinning, and a new presence. A beautiful female with wings like the others. She wore a deep blue gown that reached the floor––her hair resting over both her shoulders. The two males wore black leather with a sword strapped against their backs. Feyre noted the power each of them seemed to hold.

The male who was a bit large than the other, spoke up with a light chuckle. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to Feyre.”

The female shot him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, nobody wanted to take you up on that offer, Cassian.” The male who stood between the female and Cassian let out a light, short, laugh before whispering something into the female’s ear making her eyes twinkle subtly. Feyre watched as Cassian gave his own pointed look.

“No secrets in front of our guest, Az,” Cassian said with a grin.

The light danced across their faces allowing Feyre to observe their physical features for a moment. Similar to Rhysand, all three were dark-haired. Both males had tanned skin and hazel eyes. Feyre couldn’t quite tell the eye color of the female standing next to Az, but she gave off an air of beauty and power.

Cassian grinned again, looking Rhys and Feyre up and down. “You made poor Feyre dress up, brother,” he said before winking in her direction. His features were rough like someone had molded him, from the earth.

The second male was more classically beautiful, though hard to read. He was certainly the one who would be a surprise in the dark, the hidden knife. Feyre noticed the light sparkle in his eyes anytime he looked at the female to his left. It piqued a curiosity in Feyre.

Rhys said, “Azriel––my spymaster,” indicating the one in the middle. He then indicated the female. “Y/N. An emissary for the Night Court.” A name, Feyre later learned, Az had adopted for the emissary after she declared she did not want the name her abusive family had given her.

She immediately offered her hand with a warm smile. “Welcome, Feyre.” She gently squeezed Feyre’s before she quickly let go and Feyre does her best to not seem eager as she stepped back to stand next to the High Lord of the night Court, again.

“You’re brothers?” Feyre asked. The two males before her looked similar. The kind of similar where people who come from the same place do, not familial similar.

“All bastards are brothers in some sense,” Rhys responded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Before Feyre could ask Cassian said, “And I command Rhys’s armies.”

Feyre nodded, shifting on her feet slightly before her eyes glanced to see Azriel taking another glance in the emissary’s direction. She looked right back with a smile that showed a clear fondness for the spymaster. The moment went as quickly as it came when Az turned his gaze to Feyre. “Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand, good luck.”

Feyre was giving more attention to not being recognized as the girl Under the Mountain. She wondered, for just a moment if they knew––maybe they didn’t. That was quickly  answered when Cassian nudged past the Night Court’s spymaster requiring Az to flare his wings to keep himself balanced. Feyre watched Y/N’s hand fall to Azriel’s lower back to assist. Feyre noticed the fleeting moment of eye contact between the spymaster and the emissary, but it quickly became a second thought as Cassian asked his question about how Feyre had made the bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair, when as he put it, “you looked like your own bones could snap at any moment.”

Y/N shot Cassian another pointed gaze, but it turned into a grin after Feyre made a sarcastic comment of her own. The general laughed and Azriel’s eyebrow lifted with approval as the shadows swirled around him, tighter. Feyre’s need to understand the gift only furthered when the shadows swirled up and around Y/N’s wrist playfully, before weaving around the ends of her hair.

Her curiosity once again was pushed to the side when Feyre heard, thankfully, a familiar voice…Mor. “I hope Cassian’s howling means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”

Y/N quickly whispered something into Az’s ear, his shadows lightened slightly from around him. Feyre’s curiosity about the nature of their relationship increasing.

“I don’t know why I forget you two are related,” Cassian told Mor, while glancing over at Rhys for just a moment. “You two and your clothing.” The High Lord rolled his eyes, but Feyre had her own focus on the emissary and the spymaster who were both standing in silence, stealing glances at each other.

“I wanted to impress Feyre. You could have tried to make an effort to comb your hair,” Mor responded.

Cassian braced his feet a little farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance Feyre recognized, perhaps too well. “Unlike some people, I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours,” the general bit back.

“Yes,” Mor the said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “since swaggering around––”

“We have company,” Azriel said in a soft warning, spreading his wings as he tried to herd everyone.

“Relax, Az,” Mor said as she dodged the spymaster’s outstretched wing. “We won’t fight. We promised Rhys.”

Feyre barely noticed Az stop in his tracks, letting out the smallest of huff and his shadows seem to become thicker. She then watched as Y/N took one of Az’s hands in her own, gently pressing her lips to the back of it. His shadows lightened around him. Apparently the question about their relationship reached Feyre’s face because Rhys leaned down slightly to say, “They’re mates. Azriel and Y/N. They’ve known each other a little over 500 years and been mates just under 500.”

Feyre considered that fact, thinking there was something delicately beautiful about nearly 500 years of commitment between the two. Now she just had a few thousand more questions about the court’s spymaster and emissary. Question she decided were for another time as Mor indicated the empty seat beside her. Feyre knew the image of Az whispering into his mate’s ear and the twinkle in her eye would be etched into the back of her mind forever.

[ghouljams]

pls pls ghoul, i need to know…what are ghost’s, soap’s, and gaz’ reaction to price “flirting” with the married duck?

At that point in time, Soap knows Duck and Goose so he gets word about it and immediately goes to find Price to laugh at him about it. "Getting shot down by your wife has'ta hurt." All smiles. Really it's great to keep that secret when it makes shit like this funny. He probably calls Goose and tells her about Price's new homewrecker reputation. They both have a good laugh about it.

Gaz, I always think Gaz knew Price was married before he started working on the ranch. It was one of those secrets that gets shared when you don't think you're going to make it out. Price made him promise to find Duck if he anything happened, but when they both made it out Gaz was sworn to secrecy(and like the good sergeant he is he fully planned on taking that to the grave for his captain). So when he hears Price is flirting with a married woman he runs some quick calculations and assumes it's his wife. Then goes "OH SHIT THE WIFE" and races to meet Duck. Which also earns Gaz a reputation for chasing married women.

Which leaves us with Ghost, Price's most loyal dog, and the most important man for Duck to meet as her future son-in-law. I personally think the idea that he unknowingly had any interactions with Duck or made any comments about Price's family is really funny.

It's hard to stop the sigh the leaves him as Ghost steps foot off the helo and into camp. Fucking desert ops. He'd kill for a half decent shower. Still, it's home enough to let him roll his shoulders back into place. The tension in his back won't leave until he's dead in the ground, but at least he'll be able to sleep on a cot and not a bedroll. He trails behind the other soldiers that pile out to hustle to camp, scanning the horizon beyond the tents.

Hell of a lot of doctors runnin' around here, he could see the red cross on their backs from a mile away. Bunch of targets if you ask him.

Ghost breaks off from the rest of the crowd and makes his way to the Captain's tent. The rest of the troop can get cleaned up, his first priority is getting Price the intel he asked for. He pushes back the tent flap and stops short at the red cross and white coat. It's not unheard of for the red cross to come by the camp to request aid or supplies, but it's unusual. Whatever argument had been happening quiets as soon as he steps into the tent.

There's a silent spark of recognition in the doctor's eyes, one that makes Ghost frown. Does he know this woman? He's sure he doesn't.

"I'll be back," the doctor warns Price, her accent is soft, lilting, southern US if Ghost had to guess.

"I'm countin' on it," Price replies, a little too genuinely for Ghost's liking. The doctor nods and gives Ghost a friendly smile before brushing past him. Not many lookers like that around camp, Ghost doesn't bother hiding the way his gaze follows the woman as she leaves.

"She's pretty," Ghost hums, staring after the doctor.

"Married too," Price tells him without looking up from the map on the table. Ghost nods any interest he'd had gone with that comment.

"She got a sister?" Ghost jokes, wandering towards the table to start marking points of interest.

"She's got a brother." Price huffs, annoyed with this line of questioning. Interesting.

"Cowboy's not my type," Ghost takes the offered pen from his captain, leaning to circle a few squares on the grid. Potential entry points he'd spotted from the helo, or lifted from the shreds they'd found at the base his team had raided. "Any particular reason you know so much about a married woman?" He prods.

Price stays silent. It's better than being lied to. They both know Ghost will keep quiet no matter how he answers, but lies aren't something that passes easily between them. It's better to be quiet than truthful sometimes. Ghost nods once, short, without looking up from his work. It's none of his business who the captain has an affection for, as long as it doesn't interfere with his work.

He bumps into the doctor again around camp. She seems to have made herself comfortable, more at home around the soldiers than any of the other red cross folks. Ghost gives her a polite nod and tries to step around her. She catches his arm, and drops it just as quickly.

"Lt. Riley," She starts.

"Ghost is fine," better to be informal with civilians, makes them more comfortable.

"Ghost," She smiles, "You haven't stopped by for your physical."

"Don't need one." He replies, gruff, hopefully enough to drop the subject. He does his best to look down his nose at the woman, to glare and intimidate. It's the easiest way he's found to interact with medical professionals. Most military doctors find it easier to let him deal with whatever is bothering him than try to wrestle compliance out of him.

Half an hour late he's sat on a cot in the medical tent in just his shorts and mask while the doctor jots down figures onto a chart. He's not entirely sure how she got him in here. Fuck he hates doctors. At least there's been minimal poking and prodding, nothing past the required. She hadn't mentioned any of the more alarming scars, hadn't tried to get his balaclava off, didn't shine a light in his eyes, hell she hadn't hit him with any of his usual triggers.

Suspicious.

"Everything looks good," The doctor hums, "Anything you're concerned about and want to share?"

"No," Ghost tells her shortly. Even if there was he'd be a fool to tell. A medical discharge is the last thing he needs.

"Figured," She nods like she understands, and sets her chart down to dig through her pockets. The doctor holds out a golden candy on a short white stick. Ghost eyes it suspiciously, tugging his tee back over his shoulders. "I have a daughter around your age," The doctor supplies, "She still insists on getting a sucker after exams, thought you might appreciate one too."

After a moment Ghost takes the offered sucker, pulling his fatigues back on. He ignores the friendly good-bye the doctor offers him in favor of unwrapping the candy. A daughter, huh. Christ, Price sure knows how to pick 'em. Flirting with a married mother, what a recipe for disaster.

[1000roughdrafts]

hi! sorry i thought of another. don’t hate me! but could i please request reader and either sam or dean (writer’s choice!) where they’re newly together with reader and they’re asleep spooning and reader gets her period overnight and when they wake up it turns out they ruined both their pants and reader is feeling all embarrassed and upset but sam/dean just hugs them and is like "please, of all the blood, guts, and gore i’ve ever had on me, this is nothing!" and it’s all fluffy and sweet even though the brother is kind of out of their depth with the situation? (sorry i woke up to an unexpected visit from aunt flo this morning and i’m dying for fluff lol)

I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this out, Anon.

Warnings: mention of menstruation and blood, fluff

Word count: 789: a cute little, short one this time.

The floor creaks under Y/N’s foot as she tiptoes to grab her bag next to the door of his room. "Shit,” she whispers under her breath, scrunching her face as she slows her movements even more. All she wants to do is get herself cleaned up before her boyfriend of only three freaking months wakes up and discovers the blood on her pants.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice cracks when he calls out for her in his half-sleeping state, “what’re you doin'? What time is it?” he asks, snapping out of it. 

“Uh,” she freezes, the air conditioning of the bunker roars, and she’s thankful it fills in for her silence, “a little after four,” she says in a whisper, evading the first question. 

“In the morning?” he yawns, slowly shimmying his way to sit at the edge of the bed. 

She contemplates just telling him what’s going on, but she has no idea yet how she’d respond, and right now, she just couldn’t possibly bear the embarrassment that would come if he’s the kind of guy that’s grossed out by that. So, she lies, “yeah, but you go back to bed, love. I’m okay.” 

There’s a click as the lamp turns on, a yellow light filling the room just as he lets out a groan. Dean brings his body to an upright position, “not if you’re up this early, you’re not,” he jokes, but his laughter is replaced with nerves when she doesn’t even smile. “Seriously, you okay?” he asks, wide eyes dropping down to the bag she holds at her waist. 

“Uh, I… it-” she stumbles over her words because how the Hell is she going to explain to her new boyfriend that she was trying to get a quick shower to wash off the period blood’s surprise visit before he woke up? 

He tosses the blankets off of his lap, planting his feet firmly on the cold, hardwood floor. Y/N’s face fills with a warm, deep red when she notices the blood stain on the crotch of Dean’s pants. She should have known that could happen. They had their most peaceful sleep yet, and she remembers waking up in the same little spoon position she fell asleep in.

She lets the bag fall as her hands fly to her face, “ugh,” she groans before pressing them tighter, the contrast of cold hands on her hot face feeling like the light at the end of the tunnel. She mumbles something into her hands. 

“What?” he says, “sorry, I didn’t understand what you said.” 

Dropping her hands, she closes her eyes and swallows hard, “I got my period while we were sleeping,” she says quickly. She dreads his reaction but opens her eyes slowly. 

“Oh!” he sighs, eyes going back to the bag to see a tampon sticking out of the side of it, “that’s what this is about? Jesus, Y/N! You scared me. I thought you were trying to jump ship or something,” he says, the bed squeaking as he lifts himself off of it. He takes a few careful steps towards her before placing his hands on the back of her hips.  

“Wait,” she leans back against his hands, “you thought I was trying to sneak out?” 

He raises his eyebrows with a small shake of his head, “well, what else was I supposed to think?” 

She lets her anxiety out in a shaky laugh, “I - no, I just wanted to take a shower and change my clothes,” she starts, but pulls away to point at his pants, “but, ugh, I can’t believe it got on you, too! I’m so sorry, Dean. If I had known it was coming, I could have prepared better. I’ll buy you a new pair of pajama pants, though,” she raises her hands to cover her face again, but he grabs them by the wrists and pulls him into his chest. 

“No, Y/N, it’s okay! They’re just pants,” he says, looking intently into her eyes, “please, of all the blood, guts, and gore I’ve ever had on me, this is nothing!” he smiles, bringing her hands up to his lips to kiss each one before planting a kiss on her forehead. “Come on,” he says, releasing her from his grip, “I’ll take you to the bathroom and you can shower or take a bath, whatever you need to do, I’ll get you some tea if you want, our clothes in the wash, and a towel in the dryer,” he says with a big, sleepy smile. 

She loses herself in his eyes, the corners of her lips turn down out of pure awe and appreciation for how he’s responding with such sensitivity. "You're truly amazing, Dean. How did I get so lucky?"

"I think I'm the lucky one here." Dean smiles, going in for another kiss. “I’m gonna get you that tea.” 

If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane's Pets Chapter 98: Aftermath

TWs in the tags

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Puppy can't stop crying, and she doesn't know why.

This is good. Great, even. If Master could've prevented herself from healing, it would've come up by now, she's 98% sure of that. This is exactly what Master wanted. This means they won't be hurt anymore. She should be overjoyed.

But there's that 2% of doubt. The fear that this is a test makes Puppy want to put her muzzle and collar right back on. Every second she doesn't is another infraction, another reason for Master to punish her. Still, that's not the reason she's crying. It's something deeper than fear.

Is she grieving? For Master? She wanted to die. This is the best thing for everyone. The world has already gotten better because she died. 

Still, it hurts to look at Master's body. She looks the same as any mudered child would. Puppy had always thought Master's corpse would be smiling if she somehow managed to die, but it's not. She just looks like a corpse, like someone sleeping with their eyes open.

Puppy closes Master's eyes. She really doesn't know why she's crying. Why is this so painful? This is the good ending. The outcome so good that she tried not to even think about it as a possibility because hope just hurts. If she can't be happy now, will she ever be happy?

She supposes that if Master's death didn't cause her suffering, she wouldn't have been able to kill Master at all. Maybe this is just how the magic works. She hopes it doesn't last long, she's not much use to Kitty and Bunny like this.

Strong arms wrap her in a hug. 

"It's okay, it's okay." Bunny says, gently rocking back and forth. "We're safe, it's okay, it's okay for the first time in years. We're okay. And it's okay to cry. Let it all out, no one's going to stop you."

She lays her head on his shoulder and cries until she has no tears left, which isn't long at all. She's going to have to drink water without permission, eventually. She shudders.

“It would’ve come up by now if she could… leave her wounds open like that, right? In your opinion?”

Puppy nods.

“That’s what I thought! Like, I don’t think she had the patience for such a long trick.”

Puppy doesn’t either, but she's been wrong before.

“Um… I know it’s probably going to take a while for you to feel comfortable talking. That’s okay. It took me a while to feel comfortable without the collar, when I was… gone. And it’ll probably take a while again. So just know… it’s okay. There’s no rush. But also, I’m really excited to talk to you again, whether that’s today or years from now or anything in between. I’m excited to get to know you outside of Jane’s control— and to get to know Kitty outside of Jane’s control, and for you two to know me.”

It was just days ago that Puppy broke his hands. He was able to heal them, with Kitty’s help, but she still did it. It scares her, that he thinks there’s a real her hidden beneath what Master made her into. What if he’s wrong? It’ll hurt him so badly when he realizes he’s wrong…

Because she didn’t have to break his hands. Jane didn’t make her do that, she did that to stop Bunny from casting because she thought it was impossible for Master to die, and she was wrong. She made the wrong choice, and that’s not some simple mistake. She broke the hands of one of the two people she loves most in the world for no reason. She only made things worse.

She wants to apologize. She tries, but just the thought of speaking makes her throat close up with fear.

She thinks maybe this is part of why she was crying. She did so many horrible things under the assumption that there was no alternative, and it turns out there was. Master’s death is the death of her ability to justify how much she’s hurt people. She can’t push away her guilt without that justification, and it swallows her whole.

She should just die. She’s just like Master, the world would be better without her. Death was the answer to Master's problems, so it can be hers, too. She should just stay by Master’s side until she dies of dehydration like Master would want her to do. That would help the others, too, because Master would never let her die so quickly if she was just tricking them, so they could be even more sure Master is truly dead.

“I think… we should go upstairs.” Kitty says from somewhere behind her. “I don’t want to be here if we don’t have to.”

Puppy shakes her head. She’s not going to leave Master’s side. It’s the best for everyone.

Bunny hugs her a little tighter. “Puppy shook her head. Um… I don’t want any of us to be left alone right now…”

Kitty sighs. “Alright. So… what do we do now?”

Puppy wishes she could go upstairs. Obviously Bunny and Kitty don’t want to be here, and they’re staying for her. Just more suffering she’s causing them.

Bunny is quiet for a moment. "…What if it's not real? I feel so sure that if she could do that while she was alive she would've done it by now… but I felt so sure that Barron's magic could protect me, too. And that she was a safe person to follow home in the first place. And even after all the times I tried… it feels too easy."

"Well, you had doubts… you just pushed them away, right?"

"Well, yeah… Yeah, I guess that's it. I don't want to push the doubts away this time, and I'm afraid she's not actually dead." He goes quiet again, then starts laughing. "Fuck, I'm so stupid. If she's dead, magic won't work anymore, right?"

Bunny lets go of Puppy and gets up. "Magic doesn't work if you're trying to prove something, so I'll try to heal one of you. Um… I'm more certain that it might work on the Puppy's pressure sores than on acid burns, so I'll try that first."

Puppy lies down on the ground facing Master while Bunny collects his materials. Master's blood is mostly dry now.

Bunny says some words and does his thing, and Puppy doesn't feel anything change.

"We would definitely know if she could just… get rid of magic, right?"

Puppy nods. Master hated mages. The chance of her having the ability to get rid of all mages and not using it until now is even lower than the chance of her having the ability to not instantly heal and not using it until now.

"So– I mean, I could've wanted to prove she was dead badly enough to skew the results, but still. I also really wanted to heal you. This is– we have much more evidence that we're free this time than we ever had before, right? So we're not pushing away doubts, we're disproving them! Like, I ignored the sketchy things going on here when I first got here. I ignored how certain you and Puppy were that escaping wouldn't work, and how magic doesn't affect Jane the same way as it does everything else, when my only evidence I was safe was Barron's magic. I ignored evidence, but I'm not this time. The only evidence we have that she's alive is that she's tricked us before. And if we encounter more evidence, we definitely shouldn't ignore that, but for now… I think we can assume we're free. That's– that's what the evidence points to."

"Right, right. And… the worst that could happen if we assume she's dead and we're wrong is torture. Which is bad, obviously, but if we assume she's still alive and we're wrong… we'd torture ourselves trying to stick to her rules. And Puppy would die, because those rules include her not eating or drinking without permission. I'd… honestly prefer the former."

"Yeah, yeah!"

Their voices have slowly filled with excitement throughout the conversation. Puppy's happy for them. Once she's dead, they most likely won't ever have to worry about being tortured again.

"So– okay, I think our first step is– well, I'm thinking obviously we want to move out of here as soon as possible, right?" Bunny asks.

"Right. We can pack up some clothes and food, and Puppy will probably want to take her plushies. Everything else we can leave behind."

Puppy stops staring at Master's corpse for a moment and looks at the others. They should sell a bunch of this stuff, but how can she tell them that? She can't force herself to speak no matter how hard she tries. She turns back to Master.

"Where do you think we should go once we're packed?" Bunny is pacing the room excitedly.

“Well, Puppy knows how to get to the nearest grocery store, so that’s at least a start. Once we’re… around some other people… it’ll probably be easier to figure out our other options.”

“Hmm… Puppy, do you feel good about that plan?”

Puppy shakes her head.

“...Okay, so the first step is all getting on the same page. Do you want to keep living in this house?” Bunny’s voice is full of determination, the same way it was whenever he’d talk about killing Jane.

Puppy shakes her head. She doesn’t want to live at all.

“So we’re on the same page there, at least.” Kitty says. “Sorry for not checking sooner. Do you feel good about us packing up some food, clothes, and sentimental items before leaving?”

Puppy sits up and makes a 'so-so' gesture.

"Um… is there something else you think we should bring?"

Puppy makes another 'so-so' gesture.

"Hm…" 

Both Kitty and Bunny seem fairly stumped. Puppy guesses that's fair, she probably wouldn't be able to figure out what she meant either if she was in their shoes. Even if she can nonverbally convey that she wants them to sell stuff, how could she instruct them on who to sell it to avoid unwanted questions?

She'll have to write it down. The idea scares her, but not as much as the idea of speaking does. She guesses she's never actually been punished for writing or signing without permission, because by the time those rules were established she was already very obedient. Thinking of speaking without permission brings to mind burning hot barbed wire digging into every part of her body, but thinking of writing without permission just brings up a general fear of disobedience.

She can't die yet. Bunny and Kitty need her. She'll probably have to be the one to actually sell the stuff, too. She sighs and scoops Master's body into her arms, then heads upstairs.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @thecosmicmap @quins-whump-stuff

@fuckcapitalismasshole

[gummybugg]

Do you have any advice on switching between perspectives in a story?

How often is too often, how many perspectives is too many, and how to make feel less jarring when you're suddenly following an entirely different character? Any other tips?

Thanks for the ask! I'll slap a large title here to condense things:

How to Swap Between Perspectives: A Mini Writing Guide

Hmm, advice on swapping perspectives... I don't think there's a "jarring" way to swap between perspectives as long as you do it for a Reason.

I would say, "Oh, nah, there's never too many POVs!" But I feel like there can be to some extent. There's no clear Number I can place as a cap, but I just want you to keep in mind Why you have all these perspectives.

It's worth noting that POV swapping occurs in both 1st Person and 3rd (both I am currently writing). I can use my WIP Crater City as an example for the sake of simplicity. Now Onwards we go!

Ok, I want you to ask yourself this: "Is there something I would Gain by swapping characters?" I personally don't use multiple perspectives for the fun if it, I do it because

The character's emotions/experiences are an important storytelling component. For example: Frasier's perspective is the most reliable when it comes to explaining the ins and outs of Crater City when compared to Blair/Elijah. Only Frasier knows how he feels, and he has very important feelings I'd like to highlight. Otherwise, we would never know because he's typically very reserved. It really comes down to weighing whose perspective is the most Significant for that scene. Sometimes, you can even include more than one perspective for a scene, but that can easily become overwhelming/redundant*.

It can offer a crucial character-building moment. Flashbacks, dream sequences, etc. These can be slipped in between scenes/diaogues (but be careful it's relevant and doesn't break the mood) or put in their own chapters. I'm probably not the best person to ask how to write these scenes, but I can tell you to Write with a Purpose!

Speaking of mood, perhaps you think the scene would sound better in another character's POV due to their personality or what have you. There doesn't always need to be a reason, but I try to be intentional in what/how I write. Example: Blair is lackadaisical, and a scene where he's stuck in an elevator would be much funnier than if it were in Elijah's POV, even though they're both in the same scene together. Alternatively, Elijah’s serious perspective could be used to highlight more serious scenes later on, as opposed to Blair. It's kind of like swapping filters on a stage light. Use your characters' traits to your story's advantage!

Or Sometimes, we need to know what's happening behind the scenes. I would swap to Frasier's POV when I need the audience to know something our heroes do not. Perhaps Frasier is on the phone with Darcy, reporting that he's found something incriminating about Blair. And now we understand why bots were sent out to arrest Blair and Elijah! Oh, the magic of dramatic irony!

*My idea of overwhelming would be too many different POVs for the same scene (in 1st person), unless the perspectives each serve a purpose. Or even too much ping-ponging between perspectives in 3rd person [omniscient]. You want to hone your perspectives, not confuse your readers! Perspectives are a very important part of storytelling and definitely have the power to make or break a scene!

As for making the swap less jarring:

I had to Google this one, and there's no shame in that! From what I gathered, some people like to Establish a Pattern to rotate through perspectives so readers know who to anticipate. Well, I've also seen others Not do that, and instead, follow a Linear Storyline, swapping POVs out when they see fit. Another great tip would be to make it abundantly Clear who is speaking in the chapter/scene. Slap their name at the top, or what have you!

At the end of the day, one of the best ways to know if a swap is jarring/confusing is to have someone else Read your work.

And when swapping between perspectives, always ask yourself, "Why am I using this perspective? What will I gain?" But also: "What will I lose?" Very important things to keep in mind!

And of course, I'm sure I missed some things. But we're all here to Learn, so feel free to Add on!

[elvexen]

Carbonation Bubbles

The door to the lab slid open, Marz stepping through. Tangent quickly looked up from her work to see who it was, visibly relaxing when she realized it was only Marz. She swiftly shifted her focus back onto the task at hand, ignoring the girl standing infront of her.

“You’ve been in here for days,” Marz says, placing her hands on her hips. Tangent looks up once more, finally stepping away from her microscope. She sighs and looks back at her friend.

“This is important work that needs to be done. I can’t just sit by and let Instance take over my work, I'm better than that” She rubs her temples as she speaks, eyes closed. 

“When was the last time you slept?” Marz asks, “You look terrible.”

“How kind” Tangent rolls her eyes, “It's been about three days.”

“3 days? Oh absolutely not girl, go to sleep” Marz says, “Just because your augment lets you sleep less doesn’t mean you can't stop sleeping, you’re still human.”

“Don’t remind me.” Tangent narrows her eyes at the girl before walking over to a stool nearby and sitting down. Marz walks over and examines the girl. Despite her augment everything about Tangent just looks tired, her eyes, her body, her aura, everything. The bags under her eyes certainly aren't helping. Marz hands Tangent an energy drink and sighs.

“Will you at least have this if you won't rest? I care about you Tang” Marz says, albeit a bit awkwardly. Tangent looks up and stalls for a moment, seemingly considering before caving and taking the drink. She pulls up the tab, the sound carbonation escaping filling the quiet room.

“I'll sleep after this, okay?” Tangent says, looking Marz in the eyes.

“Okay.”