#asian armoire

[chocolatespacemuffins]

Compact Sun Room Houston A small minimalist sunroom with a gray floor and porcelain tile walls as an example.

[lraerosesims]

11 Willow Road - Renovated Church (Residential) // SIMS 2

Both CC and No CC versions

This build is a little unconventional, as I tried to create it with some kind of accuracy to a lot of church renovations. Often times there are restrictions as to how you can modify decommissioned churches and space is often minimal as the churches themselves are typically small buildings.

1 BR - 1BA - 1Car

Some unique features of 11 Willow Road:

Sunken Lounge Modern Extension

Study Loft

Roof-top Glass House

Secret Room

Following is the No CC alternative:

Very minor adjustments as minimal CC was used on the first version

Briefly play tested and issues corrected however if you have any issues with Sims placing items on top of kitchen 'cabinets' these can be replaced with CC cabinets. I just use counters elevated up the wall so sometimes Sims like to put plates out of reach up there! Also, if your Sims have trouble going up any of the staircases, let me know. It means I packaged the wrong version of the builds (I don't believe I did but the Adhd memory fuzzies are hitting hard today)

FREE SFS DOWNLOAD HERE

(Zip files for CC and No CC versions both at this link)

I HAVE THE SIMS 2 ULTIMATE COLLECTION - THERFORE I HAVE ALL EXPANSIONS//ALL STUFF PACKS

CC Credits (included in CC version download):

Amor Armoire - store content/castle objects

Beacon of brightness floor lamp - store content/castle objects

Rug Modern Asian - store content/Asian furnishings

Rug Deco 2x3 - store content/deco

ALL AVAILABLE HERE

Mignon Doll - Marilu

AVAILABLE HERE

Victorian Greenhouse Set - Lethe's

AVAILABLE HERE

Floor clear transparent - rgiles

AVAILABLE HERE

If you have any questions or concerns about these builds, please don't hesitate to contact me here on my Tumblr.

[gayblogger2002]

I was thinking about publish that lil article i wrote somewhere so i decided to post here:

The ten " A 's " used in bad writted gay man characters a.k.a gay characters writted by straight people or adult gay man:

1 - Agressivity : because gay men are always mad right ? nothing original than a gay man wanting to take a beef with everyone

2 - Aids: I know, but is necessary to put in every narrative that disease ? , especially with black gay people ? sounds like racism to me

3 - Armoire: because yes, you can't make a character just fine with their own sexuality, not in a soft outing way like Nick Nelson but in 50s bring-home-the-bacon husband with a boring marriage.

4 - Antagonism: wait . . . you're already a gay straight woman's best friend, is there more exciting thing than that bestie ?

5 - Arbitrariness: gay man have opinions on something more than shoes and a hunky guy ? that's such a nonsense

6 - Affection for crimes: Ryan Murphy and Gus Van Sant, I looking at you two " " sweeties " "

7 - Assaut and Abuse: because you're only gay if you suffered s.a right in your childhood right ? ? ? ?

8 - All funny all: wow, that's was really tiring, what about a gay man sissing around with tight pants ? there is nothing more funny than that and reducing gay man to jokes, mockering and hahaha, right ? ? ? ?

9 - Asian, African and American Latin mockering:

as always POC and interracial couples always suffer a objetification, even worst when they're living a common life, it's always something coming to destroy their happiness, plus : it's always white - white gay couples who got all the gold coins, like ? ? ? ?

10 - All ends are sad:

the last item but always present in every LGBTQIA+ narrative, not just gay:

PLEASE STOP MAKING SAD ENDINGS TO FICTIONAL QUEERS CHARACTERS ! ! ! !

WE ALREADY SUFFER A LOT IN REAL LIFE, WE DON'T NEED TO BEING DESTROYED IN FICTION TOO ! ! ! !

- Gayblogger2002 -

( 2023 )

[vintagehomecollection]

Contemporary Apartments, 1982

[thejim07]

Asian Bedroom

Hi everyone! I converted these objects from TS3 Store "Imperial Bedroom Zen" set. I'm sure this set will perfectly fit in Mt. Komorebi ^^

Happy Simming! Jim Polygon Counts: Object: HighMediumLow Bed: 1126/1126/582 Mattress: 619/607/305 End Table: 402/402/294 Dresser: 686/686/408 Armoire: 514/514/360 Wall Mirror: 474/474/214 Additional Credits: EA/Maxis for original meshes and textures. S3PE, TSRW, S4S, S4PE.

DOWNLOAD (ModTheSims)

If you want to support me, you can buy me a coffee in my Ko-Fi page:

Support TheJim07

Thanks!

[banglanotebook]

১৬ জ্যৈষ্ঠ ১৪২৬ | 30 may 2019

Bangla Word of the Day: আলমারি [almari] | wardrobe

[pforestsims]

300 followers gift - Antique Decor Mix

I've already shared two BV sculpture add-ons, here's the rest of it !

All base-game compatible. Bonsai trees are based on a Giant Bonsai mesh from Asian Fusion (I've resized it and added a pot subset).

Download (SFS)

2021-06-05: The Stone Discs sculpture was missing. I've updated the link.

2021-10-28: Updated Butterfly Set

♡

*The endtable comes from my Dynasty Armoire Add-On set - two butterfly frames pull recolors from that dresser.

Butterfly Mix pulls frame colours from base-game framed butterflies.

Sideboard from the main picture is here.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Delphine, a jewelry designer’s, interestingly decorated home in France was once a boutique and is now a loft-like apt. A motorized bike is in the hall, under a gilded mirror. Vintage theater seats are illuminated by floral shaped lighting.

At night, the store façade is illuminated and the family moves to the back of the home. 

The basic kitchen cabinets were painted, patinaed, and customized with vintage handles. The Formica table was sanded and lacquered. A porcelain collection is on display on the self above the cabinets.

Two portraits and 2 drawings decorate the wall over the vintage desk.

In the bedroom is a metal bed a pair of vintage armoires.

The bedroom and bath are separated by this partition.

The sink vanity was made from  a gramophone cabinet.

Colorful old tiles and a vintage hairdresser’s sign.

The ornate stairs go up to the children’s area.

The covered patio was inspired by travels. Asian lanterns controlled by pulleys diffuse soft light in the evening.

https://www.cotemaison.fr/loft-appartement/diaporama/la-maison-de-la-creatrice-de-bijoux-delphine-pariente-est-une-boutique_16462.html#photo-13

[ohifonlyx33]

interior decorator on youtube, a minimalist: less it more. keep it classic, chic, timeless, modern, fresh, simple, neutral.

me, a maximalist, imagining my dream home: more is more. don't be boring! go big or go home... but you're already home so you HAVE to go big. pick your favourite colors and find a way to tie them together! throw in your soft cottagecore dreams, live in your stately gothic manor, go for that old settee and the vintage armoire! sure why not have floral wallpaper? Glam? Retro Neon? Asian Fusion? Shabby Chic? Rustic? Bohemian? Steampunk Castle? GO WILD!!! As long as you find a way to tie it together, who really cares???

[shmowlwrites]

Yellow Carnations Chapter 2

ao3 chapter 1 Chapter 3

Alma Campus was intimidating. 

High brick walls with pointed spires on the top made an excellent aesthetic, but also a point. The acres of land the school board had managed to gain to and keep were all surrounded, and once you crossed through the gates, you saw why it was walled. The grass was greener, trees were strategically placed across the campus, and there were three main buildings, with scattered smaller buildings that could be seen. The sidewalk in front of them split off into many directions, and if it weren’t for the guide, Marinette her and parents were sure they would’ve never found the principal’s office.

The ravenette clutched her portfolio close to her chest and watched her feet as she walked. She’d already seen the uniforms. She knew that there was going to be some rich bratty kid just like Chloe who was going to be mean-

Marinette almost tripped, but luckily had slammed into someone sturdy to catch her. Apologies were already crawling up her throat, but when she saw who she had crashed into, they died and only a squeak came out.

“I’m sure you need to watch your surroundings, not just your feet,” Felix cocked an eyebrow.

Marinette lightly giggled. The two had found each other again, and upon learning that Marinette would be trying for a scholarship at Alma, Felix had taken it upon himself to get her number and to coach her in what she needed to do to truly impress the principal into giving her her scholarship.

"Aw, but then what use would you be?" Marinette kidded.

Felix rolled his eyes. "Good luck. I'm sure you'll impress Burns." He nodded to her before finding his way towards a group of kids. She recognized them from pictures Felix would send. She didn't have time to pair names to faces, as her parents and guide were waiting on her.

Marinette stood in front of her mirror, fiddling with her skirt and pin. She'd gotten a red plaid skirt from the uniform shop, hoping to grow out of the soft pink. Over a white button-up, she had a grey sweater vest, on which a red pin with five black dots sat on her right side. Finally satisfied, Marinette stared at her black hair. It had certainly grown over the summer, and now it rested just below her bust when not pulled up into anything. She contemplated pigtails for a moment before shaking her head. Going to Alma was about change. Also, pigtails were immature now. She could do twin Dutch braids since she did like having something 'twin' in her hair. Grinning with her solution, she dragged her rolling chair towards the mirror. Tikki floated over.

"Are you excited, Marinette?" Tiki asked, flying over to Marinette's head to hold the untied hair together.

"Of course, Tikki!" Marinette giggled, a sound the little god was happy to hear again. "A fresh start, a friend, a new phone! What could go wrong?" Marinette mused. Speaking of which, she looked over at the new phone. Only one thing not directly tied to her family had been saved from her ancient one: Felix's contact. She felt sorry for whatever poor soul currently had her old number, surely they are either confused or have called the police by now.

Peering at the time, she nodded to herself. She was actually ahead of schedule. She'd already eaten, her bags were packed, quadruple checked by her and Tikki and her parents. The metro didn't arrive until 7:45 and didn't leave until 7:50, and then it was a ten-minute ride to the station, and then it was a couple of minutes walk to school, which didn't start until 8:30. Currently, it was 7:20, and hanging out with multi-talented Felix had taught her how to do things with her hair and how to do them quickly. It only took a total of five minutes for the Dutch braids to be finished. Standing before her mirror, Marinette frowned. Something was still missing.

Tikki flew up with a happy grin on her face. "How about tying ribbons around the bands, like you used to with the pigtails?"

Marinette gasped. Of course! "Thanks, Tikki!" She shot the kwami a beaming smile as she hunted down her stock of hair ribbons. Finding them, she pulled a pair of 5-inch ribbons out and carefully wrapped them around each band, the end product creating the illusion she had tied each braid off originally with the ribbons.

"Marinette, it's 7:38, time to go!" Tikki's voice interrupted Marinette's self-assessment. Nodding, Marinette slung her carry-on bags over a shoulder and the purse on the other. She stuffed her phone in the purse and made her way to the trapdoor. Slipping the standard black uniform shoes on, she descended the stairs. Her maman was awaiting her with a pre-packed suitcase and a duffel bag. The two descending into the bakery where they greeted Tom. Marinette slipped some cookies, which earned a teasing scolding from both parents. They let her take them. Waving goodbye, Marinette was off in the opposite direction of Francis Dupont.

The dormitories were something new for Marinette. She’d never had to room with anyone, and she was used to being in her own room, removed from anyone. But now… She was sharing with two other girls. Sabine followed her daughter through the Lycee’s dorms before they found the taped on colorful name tags that stated Marinette would be rooming with Allegra Harper and Bridgette Yang. Beside the door were their names in brass, making Marinette assume the colorful name tags were only there for the beginning of the school year so students could easily orient themselves.

Marinette and Sabine pushed the door open, and they found that they were the last ones here, as a blonde girl who looked too close to Chloe for Marinette’s liking and an Asian girl with hip-length raven hair were chatting on the couch that faced the door. Their eyes immediately snapped to Marinette, but instead of a malicious expression, they were happy.

“Oh! You must be Marinette!” The Asian girl expressed, standing and quickly walking over. “I’m Bridgette! We were wondering who you might be, but you must be the scholarship student Felix has been talking to.”

The blonde girl, by process of elimination, Marinette assumed was Allegra. Allegra chuckled. “I’m Allegra. We were waiting on you before deciding beds. Since we’re the odd room, there’s gonna be one of us alone."

Oh! Marinette grinned. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna quickly look through them!"

The two girls nodded, and Sabine quickly struck up a conversation with them. Marinette began checking out the rooms. Both rooms had you opening the door straight to a wall, and you could look directly at each bed, as the wall was bent to become the bunk bed without taking up any space. On the far wall were windows on each side. There was a desk and counter space, and on the walls of the short hallway were hidden closet doors. Marinette looked inside and gaped. She could fit her entire loft inside of this! There were plenty of rows of closet rods, and the back wall of the closet was like an armoire, with shelves and drawers.

Marinette looked out of the windows, and she decided which room she’d take. Her dorm room was situated on the corner of the lycee, so while the room faced the courtyard of each school, the other window faced out into the open fields.

Marinette came back to the living room of the apartment dorm, grinning as she found her maman at ease with the other girls. Bridgette was the first to notice her.

“Ah! Marinette! Did you find everything good?” She asked.

“Yep!” Marinette nodded, finding herself a seat.

“Alright!” Allegra giggled. “Which one tickled your fancy?”

Marinette joined in on the giggling, finding the expression funny. “I’d rather have the one down the hall.”

The two girls gave her confused glances. “But that one only shows the fields?” Bridgette asked.

“Exactly! The less likely I will be seen from below as I stare into nothing, the better,” Marinette winked.

Allegra and Bridgette took the bait and laughed. “Alright, do you want one of us with you, or would it be alright if we roomed together?” Allegra asked.

Marinette shook her head. “I think I’ll be fine by myself. Besides, you don’t want me somehow taking over your side of the room too.”

“You? Take over the other side of the room? Maybe you and Bridgette should room, watch a betting pool grow on who wins the turf wars,” Allegra stared at a corner, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Hey!” Bridgette wailed. “I’m not that bad!”

“Last year, my stuff was packed under my bed. By Bridgette. Because Bridgette needed more room. At least the lycee rooms make it impossible to stuff things under the bed…” Allegra gave Bridgette a side eye. The Asian only rolled her eyes with a playful huff.

Sabine turned to her daughter. “I think you’re in good hands now.” She kissed the top of Marinette’s head. “Have a good year, Marinette.”

Marinette nodded before giving a last hug to Sabine. The two parted, not to be seen by each other until winter break.

[foreverwayward]

“Wayward Hearts” Season 3 Chapter 10: Jus In Bello

Summary: After the Devil’s Gate had been opened that fateful night in the graveyard, the hunters are forced to face a new war. Countless demons now run rampant, hungry for blood and power. It’ll take everything the three have to survive when darkness once again knocks on their door. But, with only a year before Dean’s deal comes due, Sam and Riley will stop at nothing to save him; to save their family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 11,581 (Yup. It’s long)

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

In Monument, Colorado, the door of a beautiful hotel room quietly opened. As it swung inward, Sam, Riley, and Dean went in with their guns at the ready. Riley shut the entrance behind them as they spread out. 

They then nodded to each other that it was clear and began their search.

The white carpet seemed like new with elegant décor filling the room. Beautiful, and clearly expensive, silk bedding was left unmade. Ivory furniture lightened up the space giving it an airy feel that was nothing like the cheap motel rooms the family was used to.  

Sam went to the large, white armoire to check its contents along with the safe inside. He came up empty as Dean rummaged through the dresser drawers and Riley checked out the bathroom.

“Any sign of it?” Dean asked as he continued to dig through the bureau.

“Nothing.” The younger brother stood from his kneeled position with a sigh. “Are you sure this is Richard’s room?”

As Dean went through the piles of folded clothes, he found a small leather-bound book. The hunter opened it seeing names, titles of priceless items, and transactions. 

Dean flicked through the ledger until a photograph fell onto the floor. He knelt to pick it up as his face fell into a deadpan. Lifting a photo up in front of him, Dean’s tongue pressed into his bottom lip with frustration. “Oh, yeah.” He turned the picture in Sam’s direction. “I’d say so.” It was a photo of Riley that Dean had taken of her sitting on the Impala’s hood. 

“Thought I’d lost this.” Dean nodded with a condescending chuckle. “God, I hate that guy.”

“Bathroom’s clean.” Riley tucked her gun into the waistband of her jeans as Dean put the picture into his jacket pocket. “I dunno, guys. I got a bad feeling.”

Suddenly, the phone rang; it was sitting on the bed almost as if it had been waiting for them. 

The three shared a look before Dean walked to the phone. Sam shook his head with the sickening feeling that trouble was on the other end of that call. But Dean picked up the handle of the rotary phone and answered it cautiously.

“Dean…?” a deep and familiar voice asked. “You there, old friend?”

Dean had forgotten how irritated he would get just hearing Richard’s voice. “Dick. Where are you?”

“Two states away by now.” The sound of passing traffic echoed through the line.

“Where?”

“Where’s our usual quippy banter? I miss it. Any chance I can speak to Ms. Munroe?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t fuckin’ think so and I want it back, Dick...now.”

“Your little pistol, you mean? Sorry, I can’t at the moment.”

“You understand how many people are gonna die if you do this?”

“What exactly is it that you think I plan to do with it?”

“Take the only weapon we have against an army of demons and sell it to the highest bidder.”

There was a pause and Richard’s tone grew serious. “You know nothing about me.”

“I know I’m gonna stop you.”

“Tough words for a guy who can’t even find me.”

“Oh, I’ll find you. You know why? Because I have absolutely nothing better to do than to track your ass down.” Dean couldn’t help but smile to himself mischievously.

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re about to be quite occupied.” 

Realizing they were in trouble as Richard continued to talk, Dean shot a worried look at his partners. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t take precautions? Send Riley my regards.”

As the call ended, a loud crash came from the door as police officers burst into the hotel room, practically breaking the door off its hinges. Their guns were drawn and immediately aimed at the three hunters. “Hands in the air!” 

Sam, Dean, and Riley raised their hands above their heads in surrender with disappointment on their faces. They had been set up.

Another officer shouted, “down on your knees!”

“That son of a bitch,” Dean seethed through his gritted teeth.

“Turn around! Now!” More backup filed in as they grabbed the Winchesters and Riley before forcing them to lie down on the floor. “Sam and Dean Winchester, Riley Munroe, you have the right to remain silent.” From their low view on the ground, a pair of shoes came closer. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney and have an attorney present during any questioning.” 

Their Miranda rights continued to be read as they peered up at the figure above them. It was Agent Victor Henriksen, the FBI agent whose sole focus had been finding the hunters for over a year.

“If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you at government expense.“

With a pleased expression, Henriksen met their gaze. “Hi guys…it’s been a while.”

Sam, Dean, and Riley looked at each other with worry. Dean closed his eyes and laid his head down on the floor as he conceded to the arrest. 

They had been on the run for too long and the law had finally caught up to them.

------

The police station bullpen was nothing of note, not unlike most small towns’ precincts. Exposed brick made up the walls with state and country flags in the corner.

A meek, young, Asian American girl sat at her secretary’s desk. Nancy was in her early twenties and beautiful with a long braid hanging over her shoulder. Her modesty was obvious and she seemed almost intimidated as Henriksen walked into the police station.

The phones rang as the agent walked around the front desk. He was still in his bulletproof vest over his work attire with a matching FBI jacket. With his radio in his hand, he marched in with an authoritative energy showing he was the one in charge.

Two officers in uniform were waiting for him and one asked, “so, did you get them?”

“Where is everyone?” Henriksen barked. “I asked for all your men.”

Sheriff Melvin Dodd sighed. “And you got them. They went with you on the raid.”

“Four men? That’s all?”

“Everyone I could drum up with an hour’s notice. We’re a small town, Agent Henriksen.”

Unsatisfied with the sheriff’s response, the agent dropped his things and headed for the holding cells as the two followed quickly behind. In the first cell was a sleeping and disheveled man laid flat on his stomach. “What’s he in for?”

The second officer, Phil Amici, spoke up from behind the sheriff. “Uh--drunk and disorderly.”

“Keys,” Victor demanded with hand out and waited. “Now.” 

Amici gave his superior a swift glimpse before handing over his keys. The agent wasted no time as he unlocked the cell and slid it open.

“What are you doing?”

Henriksen pat the prisoner on the back, waking him from his sleep. “It is your lucky night, sir. You are free to go.”

“What the hell are you doing?” the Sheriff questioned in disbelief.

The small-town officers’ words seemed to go in one ear and out the other as the agent took the man out of his cell and gave him to Amici.

“Agent Henriksen,” Melvin started with a stern tone. “You can’t just release my prisoners.” Henriksen walked away and the sheriff called out for him.

“Look, I get it...you’re Mayberry P.D.”

“Excuse me?”

“And this isn’t how I’d do it if I had my choice. But a tip’s a tip and we had to move fast.”

“Look, Agent, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

With all three of the men back in the main bullpen, the agent turned back to Amici and Dodd. “You’ve never been to a rodeo like this before. You have any idea who we’re about to bring in here?”

“Yeah, a couple of fugitives.”

“The most dangerous criminals you’ve ever laid your eyeballs on. Think Hannibal Lecter, a woman crazy enough to be his girl, and his half-wit little brother. Do you know what these three do for kicks? Dig up graves and mutilate corpses. They’re not just killers, Sheriff. They’re Satan-worshipping, nutbag killers.” 

As Henriksen went on, Nancy sat nearby and overheard it all. She grew nervous and held tightly to the cross pendant hanging from her neck. 

“So, work with me here. I’ll get them out your hair and on their way to Supermax and you’ll be home in enough time to watch the farm report.”

Sheriff Dodd nodded, trying to contain his frustration with the way he was being ordered around. “However we can help.”

“Those men of yours...post them at the exits.”

“Yes, sir.”

Henriksen lifted his walkie and held the side button as he spoke into it. “Reidy? Bring them in.” The agent looked at an anxious Nancy and told her, “I guess we’re ready as we’re gonna be.”

The double doors to the station opened as the Sam and Dean were led in by law enforcement. They were shackled at their wrists and ankles with the brothers tethered together. 

Riley was guided in behind them in similar bindings. The metal at their feet clinked as they struggled to take steps with the chains weighing them down.

Dean’s gaze landed on the small bullpen where Nancy, Agent Henriksen, and the other two officers stood and watched them come in. 

“Why all the sourpusses?” Dean smiled.

As Sam and Riley looked at the young secretary, she felt the worry in the air. Nancy was terrified and took the rosary from her desk to squeeze in her hand. Riley’s face grew soft and she tried to comfort the poor girl as best she could.

Agent Reidy took the older brother’s arm roughly to take them to their cells and Dean stumbled slightly at the pull. “Hey! Hey! Watch the merchandise!”

Nancy’s eyes followed them as they walked on.

“Don’t be scared, Nancy,” Riley said sweetly. The young woman watched as Riley softly smiled at her before being drug into the back and disappearing around the corner.

Sam and Dean were brought to their cell still in their shackles. The door was rolled closed and locked behind them before they turned to see Riley being led to the separate cell across from them.

Riley scoffed. “Oh, what? Because I’m a girl I gotta be separated?” she snarked. “That’s sexist!” Her words echoed through the concrete space as the officers ignored her remarks, leaving the hunters alone.

The walls had red, stenciled words on the cement wall. ‘NO TOUCHING, NO SPITTING, NO SHOUTING’.

As silence found them, Dean went for the bed and Sam towards the iron bars that surrounded them. They had forgotten about the chain that bound them together and nearly fell at the strain, having to catch themselves on whatever they could.

“Dean, come on!” Sam snapped in frustration.

“Alright, alright. Sit?” The older brother motioned toward the bed and Sam nodded in agreeance. They awkwardly walked around each other struggling to deal with the chains before finding a place to sit. 

“Hey, sweetheart, you good?” Dean’s eyes went to Riley and waited for a response.

Riley sat on her own barely padded bed as her shackles clanged together. “Just awesome.”

A devilish grin grew on Dean’s face as he looked her over. “Why is that a good look for you?”

“Dean, we’re going to prison. Now is not the time to get into your jailhouse bondage fantasies.”

He cocked his head with an understanding expression. “Fair. So, how we gonna Houdini out of this one?”

“Good question.” Sam sighed heavily with no answer as he stared at the bars.

-----

Back in the main office, Agent Henriksen made a phone call as he loosened his bulletproof vest. His supervisor on the other line had the agent biting his tongue as he was warned again and again not to lose Riley and the Winchesters. Henriksen’s idea to take them on an armored bus up to max was tossed aside and the supervising agent would be coming to pick the fugitives up by helicopter.

Henriksen took a deep breath to calm himself as he hung up the receiver. He turned to Melvin to address him. “There’s a chopper on its way.”

“But we don’t have a helicopter pad.”

“Then clear the goddamn parking lot,” the agent bit back before walking back to the holding cells. His eyes were locked on Dean as Henriksen stood in the way of their only way to freedom. With his hand holding the bars, he watched the defeated brothers closely. “You know what I’m trying to decide?”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t know. What? Whether ‘Cialis’ will help you with your little condition?”

“What to have for dinner tonight.” Sam and Riley looked at Henriksen as he went on. “Steak or lobster--what the hell? Surf and turf.” A cynical grin and a wry laugh came from Dean. “I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you three in chains…”

“You kinky son of a bitch. We don’t swing that way. Besides, that lovely lady over there has already reminded me that this is neither the time or place, so keep it in your pants.” Dean clicked his tongue as he mocked him. “Tsk tsk. And here I thought you were a professional.”  

“Now, that’s funny,” he replied with no expression.

“You know, I wouldn’t bust out the melted butter just yet. Couldn’t catch us at the bank, couldn’t keep us in that jail...” Dean shrugged condescendingly.

Victor nodded in agreeance. “You’re right--I fucked up. I underestimated you. I didn’t count on you being that smart, but now I’m ready.”

“Yeah, ready to lose us again?”

“Ready like a court order to keep you in a Super-maximum prison in Nevada till trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell, that between you and me…probably unconstitutional.” 

Riley, Sam, and Dean realized how serious Henriksen was and even Dean went quiet. 

“How’s that for ready?” When none of his prisoners responded, the agent went on. “Take a good look at Sam--you two will never see each other again. And Riley over there--your girl? She’ll be long gone--your whole little family torn apart for good.” All three stared back at him disconcerted. Henriksen was going to make sure their lives were over. “Aw. Where’s that smug smile, Dean? I want to see it.”

Dean shook his head in disbelief and chuckled to himself. “You got the wrong guys.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You fight monsters. Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that fuckin’ devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place. That’s all. That’s reality.”

With anger in his eyes, Sam sat up next to his brother as they bore holes into Henriksen with their glare. 

“Why don’t you shut your mouth?” Dean told him gruffly.

“Well, guess what? Life sucks, get a helmet. ‘Cause everybody’s got a goddamn sob story. But not everybody becomes a cold-blooded killer.” Satisfied with finally being able to shut Dean up, Victor shot him a stern look before turning to Riley. “You know, I definitely underestimated you, Ms. Munroe.”

Riley leaned onto her thighs and rested her chained hands. “Well, I’m flattered.”

“I don’t get you. I mean I know your dad lead you down just as fucked up of a road as Sam and Dean’s, but you’re a pretty girl--smart.” Henriksen pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the Winchesters and his face scrunched playfully. “How did you get mixed up with those two?”

“Just lucky I guess,” she shrugged.

“It’s a shame you had to fall for a monster instead of a real man. You could have had a bright future.”

“Look, as much as I appreciate your need to dissect my life choices--and I say this with all the respect in the world...nobody asked you.” 

Her tight-lipped smile made Victor scoff to himself.

The sound of a helicopter approaching caught their attention as Henriksen looked at his watch before tapping it with a pleased grin. “Mm. It’s surf and turf time.”

Sam, Dean, and Riley watched the agent leave, their brave faces falling with him finally gone. Dean dragged his palm down his face as the tension in the holding cell grew. 

The three were running out of time, and the thought of losing each other was more terrifying to them than the idea of a lifetime spent rotting in prison.

Their solitude didn’t last long before another man strode in. He was in a sharp blue suit and tie with his badge on his belt. Sam and Dean had played the role of feds long enough to know who the stranger was.

He closed the large metal door separating the office to the holding cell and Dean stood up to get a good look at him.

“Sam and Dean Winchester.” The man smiled, delighted with the situation before twisting only enough to get a quick study of the woman behind him. “And Riley Munroe. I’m Deputy Director Steven Groves. This is a pleasure.”

With an annoyed expression, Dean grumbled, “well, glad one of us feels that way.”

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you three to come out of the woodwork.”

“Wait…” Riley started as her face grew concerned and her eyes widened.

She was cut off when Agent Groves drew his gun and shot Dean in the left shoulder. He grunted at the impact as his blood sprayed the wall. Dean fell back onto the bed while Sam jumped up to grapple with Steven through the bars.

“Dean!” Riley shouted as her hands gripped tightly to the bars and fought against them, desperate to get to him.

Several more shots were fired from the agent's gun, narrowly missing the older brother. The sound of bullets ricocheted off the walls as they were fired from the weapon. 

Sam roared as he struggled against the man trying to kill them. When he finally had a firm grip on Steven, the hunter held his arm in place and his angry stare found the agent’s face. 

The brown irises that glared back Sam shifted into an obsidian black.

Riley began an exorcism in Latin, her rage rising out of control. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…” Her prayer caused the demon’s head to violently whip from side to side in an unholy and monstrous manner. 

Sam joined in as they continued to recite in unison. “...omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”

The evil creature bared its teeth and snarled. “Sorry, I've gotta cut this short. It’s gonna be a long night, kiddos.” 

A gut-wrenching cry ripped from the vessel’s throat as black smoke shot from his mouth. As the agent’s body shook, the demon flew through the air and disappeared into the ceiling air vent. 

With nothing left in him to stay standing, Groves collapsed to the ground, leaving the gun in Sam’s hands.

Sheriff Melvin, Agent Henriksen, the FBI supervisor Agent Reidy, and other officers rushed in with their guns drawn only to see the injured director on the floor and Sam with his weapon.

“Aright, put the gun down!” Melvin shouted.

Sam put his hands out showing he meant them no harm and pleaded for them to understand. “Wait. Okay. Wait!”

“He shot him!” Panicked officers yelled back and forth in the heated moment.

“I didn’t shoot him, okay. I didn’t shoot anyone!”

The brothers went to their knees, still calling out over the loud voices that they were innocent.

Dean clutched at his still bleeding wound and roared, “the bastard shot me!”

“Stop!” Riley cried while still trapped in her own cell. “Stop! He didn’t do it!”

“Get on your knees, now!” Voices overlapped as chaos ensued.

Sam’s heart began to beat out of control and he cast his eyes down in submission. “Okay, okay, okay. Don’t shoot. Please. Look--here. Here.” Moving slowly, Sam placed the gun on the ground and slid it underneath the bars. “Look, we didn’t shoot him. Check the body, there’s no blood. We did not kill him. Go ahead, check him.”

Reidy checked Steven’s pulse and then looked him over. “Vic, there’s no bullet wound.”

The emotionally charged room pulsed through Riley as her abilities drowned her in the weight of it all. “Oh, my god,” she growled angrily as her cuffed hands ran through her hair before clenching it in her fists. “The guy’s probably been dead for months. I’ll repeat myself, they didn’t do anything to him!”

With his gun still pointed at the brothers, Henriksen shifted his grip. “Talk or I shoot.”

“You’re not gonna believe any of us, anyway!”

Sam paused and weighed their options before looking back at the agent. “He was possessed.”

“Possessed? Right,” Victor replied incredulously. “Fire up the chopper! We’re taking them out of here now.”

“Yeah! Do that!” With his hand holding tight to his gunshot wound, Dean knew their best chance of survival was to get out of that station. It didn’t matter where they were headed, as long as his family was safe.

“Backup should already be here. I’m gonna go check it out.” Reidy nodded to Henriksen before hurrying outside.

As he opened the front doors, the agent discovered the bodies of two officers. Their throats had been slit brutally nearly to decapitation. Blood pooled around their still-warm corpses on the concrete where they had been slain. 

Reidy’s breath grew ragged with panic as clouds from the cold air swelled in front of his mouth. He hesitantly went to the chopper that had come to evacuate them. Another two agents and the pilot were all dead.

“They’re dead,” he uttered into his walkie. The fear in his voice was evident as it trembled with his every word. “I think they’re all dead.”

A massive explosion erupted from the helicopter. Agent Reidy cried out as the blast threw through the air and onto the asphalt with a hard thud.

Victor's voice was still calling to him through his radio. “What the hell was that? Reidy? Reidy?!”

Groaning in pain and coughing to catch his breath, Reidy sat up to see the chopper still ablaze. A large cut across his cheek dripped fresh blood down his face.

The sound of approaching footsteps came from behind Reidy. He turned to see one of the fallen officers back on his feet looking down at him with empty black eyes. 

Reidy screamed in agony as the possessed deputy’s fist tore into the agent’s chest. His ribs crunched at the impact as his mouth hung open in shock. 

The demon twisted its hold and ripped through his chest before Reidy’s body fell to the ground.

Sam, Dean, and Riley waited alone in the holding cells after the officers had all ran out to help. 

Every light in the station suddenly went out and the sound of whirring electronics powered down. It went silent with the night moon serving as the only light through the small window. Only a handful of backup lights flickered on and the hunters stood to their feet knowing the worst was yet to come.

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Dean said to himself.

Sam gathered a long ream of thing toilet paper and held it to Dean’s still bleeding shoulder. As his older brother grunted at the contact, Sam remained unmoved as he continued to apply pressure. “Alright, don’t be such a wuss.”

With a heavy sigh and nowhere to go, Riley returned to her spot on the bed. “Sam, how’s he lookin’?”

“I don’t think it’s too bad. The bullet went clean through. Just gotta get the bleeding to stop.”

Riley closed her eyes and took long, slow breaths to calm herself. Coupled with her own fear and worry, she had to calm herself. They were in for a long night, and Riley knew she had to get her abilities under control. Death was in the air and its presence challenged the air in her lungs.

“What’s the plan? Hmm?” Henriksen barked at the hunters as he charged back into the holding cell. “Fuckin’ kill everyone in the station, bust you three out?”

Dean’s hand had replaced Sam’s as he held the cheap tissue in place. Confusion fell over him as he stared back at the agent. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your psycho friends. I’m talking about a goddamn blood bath.”

“Okay, I promise you--whoever’s out there? Is not here to help us.”

Sam lowered his voice to plead with the agent. “Look, you got to believe us. Everyone here is in terrible danger.”

“You think?”

“Why don’t you let us out of here so we can save your asses?” Dean snapped back.

“From what?” Victor paused while Sam and Dean looked away. “You gonna say ‘demons’?” He spun and stared Riley down as she refused to meet his glare.

In his frustration, Henriksen raised his gun and pointed it to the ceiling, his finger aching at the trigger as he spoke through his gritted teeth. “Don’t you fucking dare say ‘demons’. Let me tell you something...you should be a lot more scared of me.” Shaking his head, the agent walked away, his gun still in his hanging hand.

“Dean?” Riley called softly. “You okay?” She was feeling the pain of Dean’s gunshot wound and fought to not let it show. The last thing he needed was to worry about her.

Dean peeled back the pad of toilet paper revealing a large bloodstain seeping through before chucking it away to the side. “I’ll live,” Dean sighed. “You know, that’s if we actually get out of here alive. So, either of you got a plan?”

Sam examined the exit wound on the back of Dean’s shoulder and his brother grimaced in pain.

As Riley still struggled with her overwhelming empathy, she looked up feeling a new presence in the room. She saw Nancy peeking her head around the corner outside the bars.

“Hi…” the hunter said sweetly. The scared girl began to back away and Riley put up her hands. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you. But, please--” Riley looked back at Sam and Dean and bit her lip anxiously. “We need your help. It’s Nancy...right?” 

The secretary stayed silent unsure of what to say or do. 

“Nancy, my boyfriend--he’s been shot. I can tell from here that it’s really bad and he needs help. Is there a towel you can get for my brother Sam so he can stop the bleeding?” 

Still uncertain and clearly afraid, Nancy’s timid eyes looked back at the hunter.

“I promise...we’re not the bad guys.”

When Riley couldn’t get a response from the girl, she closed her eyes and focused, hoping to hone in on her abilities. After not using them for so long, Riley would need to find a way to control them once again. 

She reached out to Nancy telepathically and tried to calm her nerves. Riley could feel the girl’s utter terror and she trembled briefly at the feeling. It had been so long since Riley had tried to ease someone’s pain, but she couldn’t stand leaving Nancy in that state.

Riley opened her eyes as she watched the girl’s body relax ever so slightly. Nancy sighed in a moment of relief and a small, almost unnoticeable smile curled at one side of her lips. She then spun on her heel and left.

“It was a nice try, sweetheart,” Dean told her.

Sam let out a heavy breath and turned around to see Nancy had come back with a clean white towel. “Thank you,” he said gently.

 Nancy slowly inched towards the boys, carefully.

 “It's okay.” Sam held out his handcuffed hands. The girl nervously put the towel inside the bars as Sam smiled at her; she returned the gesture before the hunter grabbed her arm and drug her against the bars. 

Nancy screamed at the top of her lungs and an officer rushed in with his rifle.

“Let her go! Let her go!”

Doing as he was told, Sam released her as Nancy backed away, terrified.

The officer pointed his weapon at Sam. “Try something again--get shot. And not in the arm.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded.

Still rattled and scared, Nancy left with her coworker as he escorted her out.

Dean hit Sam in the arm angrily. “What the fuck was that?”

From the other cell, Riley smirked knowing exactly what her brother had done. Sam held up Nancy’s rosary that he had stolen from her in the tussle. The couple chuckled softly to themselves.

------

Dean, Sam, and Riley were unsure how much time had passed since they had heard anything. There was no way out and all they could do was wait.

Laying on her back with her knees bent, Riley stared at the ceiling as she fiddled with her hands. Her mind was racing and she tried to ground herself as much as possible.

In the other cell, Dean was still pressing the towel into his wound as he sat on the bed with Sam who scoffed. “We’re like sitting ducks in here.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean agreed. “Would it kill these cops to bring us a fuckin’ snack?!” He raised his voice to a yell hoping the officers would hear him.

Riley sat up on her bed and scooted back to lean against the wall. “Guys, we have no clue how many there are. I mean, they could be anybody and just waltz right in here.”

“It's kind of wild, right? I mean it’s like they’re coming for us--they’ve never done that before.” Dean smirked, pleased with his train of thought. “It’s like we got a contract on us. Think it’s because we’re so awesome? I think it’s ‘cause we’re so awesome.” He smiled again before it quickly faded after seeing Sam’s unamused expression.

“You might be right, Dean. It’s ‘cause we’re awesome.” As Riley shot him a playful look, Dean laughed under his breath.

Scratching his nose, Dean signaled for Riley to read his mind just as he used to. “I’m gonna get us outta here, okay?” 

She nodded as she acknowledged his thoughts with a smile.

Riley’s focus shifted as Sheriff Dodd came in with his keys in hand.

He went to the brothers’ cell and unlocked the bar door; it clicked loudly as it came undone.

The two shared a worried glance before Dean looked back at Dodd. “Well, howdy, there, Sheriff,” he joked with a forced southern accent as the cell door was opened.

Sheriff Dodd walked in and stared at the brothers. The two grew increasingly worried as Riley hurried to the locked door of her cage. “It’s time to go, boys.”

“Uh...you know what?” Knowing Riley was right, Dean played it cool as he and Sam stepped back as the Sheriff blocked them in. “We’re--we're just comfy right here. But, thank you.”

The sound of footsteps had everyone turn to see Henriksen had walked in. He was standing behind Melvin with a stern expression. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“There’s a SWAT facility in Boulder. We’re not just gonna sit around here and wait to die. We’re gonna make a run for it.”

Hoping she could still get Dean to hear her, Riley whispered into his thoughts. “Something’s not right.” 

The agent’s head barely turned with the corner of his sight set on Riley. A hidden curl of his lip sent a chill up her spine. 

“Guys…” As the brothers peered over to her, Riley’s heart began to race. “...that’s not Henriksen.”

Without hesitation, Victor lifted his weapon and didn’t flinch as he fired a bullet into Dobb’s head. Blood splattered behind the Sheriff as he fell back against the bars and his body slumped to the floor.

Dean and Sam leaped in to grapple with the agent as they each went for one of his arms. The older brother disarmed him and aided Sam in shoving the man’s face into the toilet. 

In the bowl waited the rosary Sam had stolen; it was now holy water. 

Henriksen’s eyes went stark black as the blessed toilet water burned his face and he screamed in pain as bubbles escaped his mouth. 

Sam began to recite the Latin exorcism prayer, pulling the agent’s head out from moment to moment to allow the trapped man inside to breathe. 

Steam poured from Victor’s face as the holy water burned the demon and it seethed.

Officer Amici ran around the corner responding to the sounds with his rifle ready and aimed.

“Stay back!” Dean ordered as he pointed the agent’s gun back at him.

Again, Sam dunked the creature into the water and continued to pray. The demon yelled in agony but the hunter wouldn’t relent. 

“Hurry up!”

As Sam held tightly to the vessel’s collar, he jerked him back out. 

The monster’s black eyes only aided the malevolent smirk that still sat on its face. “It’s too late. I already called them. They’re already coming.” 

Before the demon could be drowned in holy water again, Henriksen howled out as black smoke shot out of his mouth and up into the air. His body twitched and tears formed at his eyes as the evil entity ripped itself from his body before disappearing into the vents above them. 

Victor fell to the floor as Sam slinked to down as well, breathing heavily from the struggle.

They all waited for the agent to respond before he regained consciousness and began to cough as he tried to catch his breath.

“Henriksen! Hey. Is that you in there?” Sam asked shakily.

Getting up while still shaking and in shock, Victor slowly pulled himself up to sit on the bed. “I…I shot the Sheriff.”

A thought came to Dean and he smiled proudly. “But you didn't shoot the deputy.” Sam glared at his brother in disbelief at his poor timing.

“Five minutes ago, I was fine, and then…”

“Let me guess. Some nasty black smoke fucked itself into your throat?”

Henriksen’s eyes darted back and forth as he tried to come to terms with what had just happened and he nodded.

“You were possessed,” Sam interjected. “That’s what it feels like--now you know.”

Handing back over Henriksen’s gun to him, Dean said, “I owe the biggest ‘I told you so’ ever.”

It was then that the agent knew he had been wrong all along, that Sam, Dean, and Riley had been telling the truth from the beginning. Demons were real, all of it was real. 

He stood to his feet, water still dripping from his face. “Officer Amici. Keys…” When the officer obliged, Victor immediately unlocked the heavy chains that hung from the brothers and they fell to the floor with a loud clang. “Alright, so, how do we survive?”

“Um, hello?” Riley called out still locked up and shackled. She held up her restraints and her face appeared slightly annoyed. “You start by getting me the fuck outta here.”

------

The night lingered on with everyone still trapped in the station. Even with the large clock on the wall, time passed differently, sometimes painstakingly slow and other times rushed as if they had no time left at all.

A spray paint can rattled as Sam shook it while he continued to draw a large devil’s trap on the floor. All the while, Dean went over the floor plans of the police station. Two traps had been drawn at the entrances at the exits as they plotted their plan.

Finally, with access to medical equipment, Riley tended to Dean’s wound. She had cleaned it thoroughly and wrapped a bandage around his shoulder before taping it in place. “Better?”

“Well, I still got shot,” Dean teased. “But, sure...better.” 

With a playful glare, Riley shook her head at his sarcasm. 

The only remaining officers, Henriksen and Amici, walked in as they prepared guns for the coming battle. ”Well, that’s nice. It’s not gonna do much good,” Dean told them.

With skepticism, Phil replied, “we got an arsenal here.”

“You don’t poke a bear with BB gun. That’s just gonna piss it off.”

Henriksen worked to loosen the tie around his neck. “What do you need?”

“We need salt.” Riley collected the rest of the med kit before closing it back up. “We’re gonna need a lot of salt.”

“There’s road salt in the storeroom,” Nancy added from off to the side. She stepped in closer from out of the shadows as Dean nodded.

“Perfect. We need salt at every window and every door.” At Dean’s command, Henriksen and Phil left to retrieve everything from storage. His focus returned to the soft-spoken girl nearby. “How you holdin’ up, Nancy?”

“Okay,” she paused. “When I was little, I would come home from the church and start to talk about the devil. My parents would tell me to stop being so literal. I guess I showed them, huh?”

Phil found his way back to the bullpen with large bags of salt and Dean looked back at him. “Hey, where's my car?”

“Impound lot out back.”

“Okay.”

“Wait,” Amici said as his arm reached out to stop the hunter. “You’re not going out there?”

“Yeah, I got to get something out of my trunk.”

Riley stood from her seat and threw her jacket back on that she had taken off while aiding Dean. “I’m coming with you.”

“Like hell you are.”

She scoffed. “Since when have you ever been able to tell me what to do, Winchester?”

------

After getting the keys from the officer, Riley and Dean ran out to the backlot. A chain-link fence with large ‘NO TRESPASSING’ signs had been locked to keep the confiscated vehicles safe. Dean made quick work of removing the lock as Riley kept a lookout.

The hinges of the gate squeaked as they hurried inside. Riley watched Dean’s back for any movement before following him to the Impala’s trunk.

As Dean hurried to gather their equipment and stuff it into his duffle bag, the lights of the gas station across the street began to flicker. 

A dark and eerie feeling sat in Riley’s gut and she swallowed hard as the wind changed and started to blow her hair behind her. “Dean, something’s coming.” 

From around the gas station came a thick, massive cloud of black smoke interspersed with lightning. Glass shattered as it plowed through, breaking anything in its path. 

“Scratch that...something’s here. We gotta go!”

Dean’s breath quickened as he grabbed dreamcatcher-like amulets and added them to his bag of weapons. He slammed the trunk shut as leaves around the couple flew out of control as gusts of wind whisked around them. 

With a shotgun in his hand and his duffel bag on his shoulder, Dean looked back at the evil force barreling toward them. “Go, go, go!” Dean shouted as he grabbed Riley’s hand. The two went into a full sprint running as fast as their legs could carry them back towards the police station. “Come on!”

Completely out of breath as they reached safety, Dean threw the double doors open and drug Riley in tow. He slammed them shut behind and reclaimed Riley’s hand as they ran down the hallway. 

At the top of his lungs, Dean screamed out to the others. “They’re coming! Hurry!”

Nancy continued to line the windows with salt as black smoke hit the pane in front of her face. She screamed in terror and hurried back into the main office. The rest of the survivors joined her as Dean tossed his shotgun to Sam.

The lights buzzed and flickered almost violently as a loud bang came from outside. Thick smoke struck the building with a thud and surrounded them, blocking out any remaining light from outside. 

The evil cloud engulfed the building as dust rained down from the ceiling while it quaked. Everything around them rumbled and shook as if the station itself was alive. The sound of deafening pounding came from the doors and windows as the powerful smoke demanded entrance.

It suddenly went quiet as the blanket of darkness seemed to disappear.

“Everybody okay?” Sam asked as he peered out the windows from where he stood.

Henriksen sighed. “Define ‘okay’.”

Grabbing the arsenal bag, Riley pulled out a small pouch. She opened it up as her fingers dug in and pulled out necklaces. They were strung on strands of leather with a symbol of protection dangling in the front. “Here, everyone needs to put one on, alright? They’ll keep you safe. You can’t get possessed if you’re wearing it.”

As Nancy put hers on and pulled her hair out from underneath, the symbol laid over the silver cross on her own chain. “What about you guys?”

Dean and Sam pulled back their shirts to reveal the top of the left side of their chest. The protective emblem that Bobby had shown them had been tattooed into their skin. It was in black ink depicting a pentagram surrounded by a ring of what looked to be flames.

When the others turned to Riley, she huffed and moved her jacket to the side as she lifted her shirt. She tugged the fabric up high enough to show her lower ribcage. The same black symbol had been etched into her.

“Smart,” Henriksen told them with a look of approval. “How long you had those?”

Sam straightened up his shirt before uttering, “not long enough.” He swallowed hard as his eyes flickered up to Riley. 

They shared a look remembering what they had gone through when Meg had taken over Sam.

Though her brother could only recall fragments, Riley remembered every moment. From time to time that night would haunt her, vividly, but it was a secret she intended to carry to her grave.

While Nany shuffled through the items on her desk, she slowly lifted her head when she noticed movement from outside the window. A large crowd of people had filed in front of the station in wait. 

“Hey, that’s Jenna Rubner,” Nancy said, recognizing an old friend. 

The woman had long red hair, her eyes black as an empty hole. Officers that had once lied dead in front of the entrance, stood drenched in their blood, their throats still slit open.

Joining her at the window, Sam surveyed the situation. “That’s not Jenna anymore.”

“That’s where all that black demon smoke went?”

“Looks like.”

------

Dean and Victor sat alone in one of the offices as they readied their weapons. It was quiet and it was the first time the two had ever been alone.

“Shotgun shells full of salt,” Henriksen chuckled to himself as he loaded the rounds into a shotgun.

“Whatever works.”

“Fighting off monsters with condiments.” Taking off his tie, the agent sighed before resuming his task. “So...turns out demons are real.”

“FYI,” Dean started as he peered up at him from his seat on a nearby chair. “Ghosts are real too. So are werewolves, vampires, changelings, even evil fuckin’ clowns that eat people.”

“Okay then.”

“If it makes you feel better, Bigfoot’s a hoax.” The hunter gave a tight-lipped smile with that same look of ‘I told you so’ that he felt so comfortable shoving in Henriksen’s face.

“It doesn’t.” Loading shells into a belt to pack as much ammo as possible, he asked, “how many demons?”

“Total? No clue...a lot.”

Victor’s face fell as he took a brief moment to think to himself. “You know what my job is?”

“You mean besides locking up the good guys?” Dean cocked his weapon and walked over to his new ally. “I have no idea.”

“My job is boring, it’s frustrating. You work three years for one goddamn break, and then maybe you can save...a few people--maybe. That’s the payoff. I’ve been busting my ass for fifteen years to nail a handful of guys and all this while, there’s something off in the corner so big. So, yeah…sign me up for that big, frosty mug of wasting my fucking life.”

Dean’s expression went softer. “You didn't know.”

“Now I do.” Henriksen paused as he collected more rounds for them to keep working. “What’s out there? Can you guys beat it? Can you win?”

“Honestly? I think the world’s gonna end bloody. But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin’.”

“What about Riley?”

Looking back at the agent, Dean’s brow hooked. “What about her?”

“Well, you got more to go home to than just your brother. You got more to lose.”

“Yeah,” the hunter nodded solemnly. “What about you? You rockin’ the white picket fence?”

“Mm-mm. An empty apartment and a string of angry ex-wives. So, I gotta ask...how does that work for you guys doing all of this?”

“Honestly?” Dean grimaced realizing he never had to answer that question before. “I guess it just does. Ya know, I never imagined being the kind of guy that would ever involved with anyone. I mean, what we do? Getting attached to people doesn’t usually end with anything but blood. But, with her?” Peering through the window into the bullpen, Dean watched Riley comfort Nancy and smiled to himself. “Man, she’s somethin’ else. She’s not just ‘some girl’, ya know? Riley’s my partner, she’s family.”

A loud crash came from nearby and Dean and Henriksen ran into an office across the way. Immediately behind them, Riley and Sam hurried in to help.

The small room’s high window had been shattered and the line of salt was broken. They all stopped at the door with their weapons ready only to see a blonde woman had found her way inside. She was caught in the red devil’s trap painted on the ground with a cut bleeding at her brow line. It was Ruby.

Henriksen pointed his rifle at her. “How do we kill her?”

“We don’t,” Sam said as he lowered the agent’s gun.

“She’s a demon.”

“She’s here to help us.”

Riley rolled her eyes as she and Dean dropped their aim. “So the bitch says.” she feigned a dramatic ‘fuck you’ expression at Ruby.

The demon remained trapped by the window, breathing heavily after the fight to get in. 

Sighing in exasperation, Dean leaned in to whisper into Riley’s ear. “Right there with ya, sweetheart.”

“Are you gonna let me out?” Ruby asked as Sam walked in her direction. 

He knelt down and scratched at the devil’s trap on the floor with his knife, creating a break in the seal. 

“And they say chivalry’s dead. Does anyone have a fucking breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here.” Ruby marched past everyone and into the main office as they turned to follow her while Sam stayed behind to fix the salt line at the shattered window.

As Dean caught up to the demon, he knew she could give them the answers they needed. “How many are out there?”

“Thirty at least,” Ruby answered as she leaned against a desk to look back at Dean. “That’s so far.”

“Oh, good. Thirty. Thirty hit men all gunning for us. Who sent them?”

Ruby focused her attention on Sam with a cocked head with a shocked face. “You didn’t tell Dean? Did you even tell Riley?” Dean and Riley turned to Sam, perplexed. “Oh, I’m surprised.”

“Tell us what?”

“There’s a big new up and comer--real pied piper.”

With her arms crossed over her chest, Riley shook her head before reaching up to run a hand through her hair. “Who’s the new guy then?”

“Her. Her name is Lilith. And she really, really wants Sam’s intestines on a stick. ‘Cause she sees him as competition. I know she’s just as desperate, if not more so, to get her hands on Riley.” Ruby’s eyes bore into the hunter as she looked her over. “You’re not just competition, you’re the one she wants. With you, Lilith’s got a weapon like nothing else. But, if she can’t have you, her first priority is gonna be to eat you alive before you can go against her.”

Dean scrunched his face in anger as he turned to his brother. “You knew about this?” When Sam didn’t answer and he hung his head, his brother scoffed. “Well, gee, Sam. Is there anything else we should know?!”

“How about you all have your little family meeting later? We’ll need the Colt.” The room went still with the hunters knowing they had lost their most powerful weapon and Ruby snapped at them. “Where’s the Colt?”

Finally having something to say, Sam uttered, “it got stolen.”

“I’m sorry, I must have blood in my ear. I thought I just heard you say that you three were fucking stupid enough to let the Colt get grabbed out of your clumsy, idiotic hands.” Pushing herself up, Ruby gritted her teeth as she looked away from them. “Fan-fucking-tastic. This is just peachy…”

“Ruby…”

She raised her hand to stop him from speaking. “Shut the fuck up.” Ruby clenched her jaw as she quickly thought their options over. “Fine. Since I don’t see that there’s no other any option, there’s one other way I know how to get you out of here alive. I know a spell. It’ll vaporize every goddamn demon in a one-mile radius...myself included. So, you let the Colt out of your sight and now I have to die. So, next time, be more careful. How’s that for a dying wish?”

With his gun still in hand, Dean got up from where he sat on the desk nearby. “Okay, what do we need to do?”

“Aww...you can’t do anything. This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue.”

Dean shrugged with a cheesy grin, still favoring his injured arm. “I got virtue.”

“Nice try,” the demon chuckled. “You’re not a virgin.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Nobody’s a virgin.”

Ruby’s eyes flickered from Dean and over to Nancy who looked away from the evil monster staring her down.

“No,” Dean started with utter disbelief. “No way. You’re kidding me. Y--you’re…”

As she fiddled with the silver cross on her neck, Nancy replied, “what? It’s a choice, okay?”

“So, y--you’ve never...not even once? I mean not even--” Stopping himself with wide eyes and a shake of his head, Dean tried to wrap his head around the idea of a young, beautiful girl who had saved herself. “Wow.”

Riley had gone over to Dean and her elbow poked him as she telepathically spoke while trying to hide her growing grin. “Not everyone’s as sexually depraved as we are.”

His tongue shot out over his bottom lip as his eyes met hers. “Oh, sweetheart, we live through this--and I’ll show you depravity.”

She had to fight to stifle the flirty expression that attempted to take over her face.

“So, this spell,” Nancy said eagerly trying to move on from the subject with a hopeful and innocent smile at Ruby. “What can I do?”

“You can hold still…” The sound of Ruby’s heeled boots clacked as she sauntered toward the girl. “While I cut your heart out of your chest.”

“What?”

Immediately, Riley and Dean’s voices overlapped each other as they yelled and stepped forward, the two sharing the same urgency. “What?” “You’re insane.” “We’re not doing that.” “Absolutely not.”

“I’m offering a solution.” Ruby was growing impatient.

Dean dramatically feigned being taken aback and his wide eyes sat on the demon’s face. “You’re offering to fuckin’ kill somebody.”

“And what do you think’s gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?”

Henriksen, Riley, and Dean continued to argue back and forth with Ruby, shocked, angry and disgusted at the suggestion.

“Excuse me,” the young girl said softly, broken and scared.

“You’re all gonna die.” Ruby retorted to the others. “Look, this is the only way.”

“Ex--excuse me.”

The consistent bickering over it all had tensions growing by the minute and Riley went to stand in front of Nancy as if trying to protect her.

“Would everybody please shut up?!” The room went silent at Nancy’s shouting and everyone’s focus sat on her. “All the people out there...will it save them?”

Riley exhaled heavily. She knew that by telling her the truth, Nancy would sacrifice herself. The hunter had felt her gentle spirit from the moment they had been brought into the station. It made sense to her that the girl was a virgin, she was pure.

“It’ll blow the demons out of their bodies.” The demon had just threatened to butcher Nancy, and yet her tone almost seemed gentle. “So, if their bodies are okay... yeah.”

There was a moment of silence as Nancy paused to think it over. Her nerves grew and her heart raced, but there was no doubt in her mind what her decision would be. 

With her lip trembling, she swallowed. “I’ll do it.”

Riley closed her eyes at the girl’s words trying not to cry as Nancy’s heartfelt emotions and empathy for others rushed over her.

“Hell no!” Henriksen interrupted from off to the side.

“Nancy,” Riley touched her arm and shook her head. “You don’t have to do this. We can find another way.”

“All my friends are out there.” Sniffling and still shaking, she stared back at  Riley.

Victor pushed to the center of the room and spoke with conviction. “We don't sacrifice people. We do that, we’re no better than them.” 

Dean peered over to Henriksen and they shared a moment of understanding. Whatever history the two had shared, they were now comrades in the trenches together; brothers in the bloody battle to come.

A cacophony of shouting roared through the space around them, except for Sam, who leaned against the doorway quietly.

“Sam,” Ruby began as she looked to him. “You know I’m right.”

Again, Sam had nothing to say and his eyes fell to the floor.

Smiling slightly in the expectation that Sam would agree with him, Dean’s focus went on his little brother. “Sam?” With no words, Sam’s jaw clenched and Dean raised his voice. “What the fuck is going on? Sam, tell her.”

“It’s my decision.” Still clinging to the peace her necklace brought her, Nancy stood her ground.

A devilish grin and arched eyebrow stared back at her as Ruby encouraged her on. “Damn straight, cherry pie.”

“Stop!” Dean yelled furiously. “Stop! Nobody kill any virgins! Sam, I need to talk to you.” His head motioned forward to Riley letting her know to follow suit. The three walked into the empty hallway to speak privately before Dean spun around to his brother. “Please tell me you’re not actually considering this. We’re talking about holding down a girl and cutting out her fucking heart.

Sam’s brow creased with concern and his voice rose. “And we’re also talking about thirty people out there, Dean. Innocent people who are all gonna die, along with everyone in here.”

“That’s not the point, Sam,” Riley jumped in. “In what world is it okay to slaughter an innocent girl? I’m not letting that demon bitch touch her, you hear me? I won’t surrender my humanity; I refuse to become a monster. I told you I wouldn’t no matter the cost.”

“Then what? What do we do?”

Turning away for a moment, Dean thought to himself and drug his calloused palm down his face before returning to his partners. “I got a plan. I’m not saying it's a good one, I’m not even saying that it’ll work. But it sure as hell beats killing a virgin.”

“Okay, so, what’s the plan?”

Dean and Riley’s eyes met as they shared his thoughts and she nodded with an approving gesture. Without breaking their gaze, Dean answered Sam, “open the doors, let them all in...and we fight like hell.”

------

Not long after, the group had gathered once again in the bullpen. It was quiet as anticipation and worry consumed them. The time to fight was drawing closer, and if any of them were honest, no one was ready.

Sam made his way back to the others after coming out from one of the back rooms. “Got the equipment to work.”

“Good,” Riley replied as she cocked her shotgun.

“This is insane.”

“You win ‘understatement of the year’,” Ruby mocked. “It’s not gonna work.” Using her arms to push herself up from her chair, the demon waved them off. “So long.”

“So, you’re just gonna leave?”

“Hey. I was gonna kill myself to help you win. I’m not gonna stand here and watch you lose.” She inched closer to them and glared back and forth between Riley and Sam. “And I’m disappointed because I tried--I really did. But clearly, I bet on the wrong horses. Do you mind letting me out?”

They lead her to the front doors and Sam crouched to scratch away the paint from another devil’s trap. He then ran his hand over the salt line across the doorway, breaking the barrier.

The demon gave them one last snide look before stepping out into the night.

Through the fogged, bulletproof glass on the entrance, Riley peered outside to see Ruby pull out her knife. She waved it in front of herself as if challenging the rest of the demons. 

They stopped to think it over and made a way for Ruby to pass between them before she disappeared into the night.

“Let’s go.” Gripping her weapon, Riley lead them back as Sam fixed the blockade.

Everyone went to ready themselves in their positions at different spots in the building. Sam waited in the main office as Dean and Henriksen headed to stand at the doors.

Dean passed Riley and he took one of her hands in his as his thumb ran over her skin. “Be careful.”

“You too.” Forcing a smile, Riley touched Dean’s face lovingly before they shared a kiss. 

As they pulled apart, their foreheads came together and their eyes closed as the couple soaked each other in. With Riley’s abilities growing again, the connection they had always had was finding them once more.

In that brief moment, they became one as Dean’s hand held the back of her head. “I love you,” he murmured softly.

“I love you too.”

Dean cleared his throat as a lump grew and he kissed her head. Choking back the fear that they wouldn’t see each other again, they quickly headed to their positions.

Nancy had hidden up on the roof away from the fight with Officer Amici armed to protect her. They had their own parts to play.

With Henriksen, the Winchesters, and Riley at their entrances, Dean called out loudly, “all set?”

“Yeah!” Sam shouted.

Victor nodded nervously to himself. “Ready!”

There was a quick pause and Riley readied her weapon. “Let’s do it!!”

All four broke the salt lines and devil’s traps that protected the doors. One by one, they forced them open and held up their weapons as the dark and foggy night stared back at them.

Henriksen steadied his breathing as the silence nearly deafened him.

Lost in his assumption of where the attack would come from, he was caught off guard as a demon swung down from above. With heavy force, the creature kicked Victor in his chest. He grunted at the impact and his rifle went off echoing through the halls as he fell back onto the ground. 

Henriksen was grabbed by his shirt and yanked from the floor before immediately being shoved back into the wall, drywall falling around him.

The demon grabbed the agent’s throat in an attempt to strangle him as the creature pinned him to the wall.

“God, I hope this works.” Henriksen pulled a flask from his pocket and opened it before splashing holy water on the evil thing holding him hostage.

Groaning in pain, the creature grabbed at its face as its skin sizzled and burned its unclean soul.

The booming sound of fired shots rang through the station as Sam, Dean, and Riley shot at the demons that charged towards them.

As Riley’s barrel went empty, she fumbled to load it again. “Dammit…” she muttered as a possessed vessel rushed at her. 

With the demon inches in front of her, the hunter cocked her shotgun and fired, blowing a hole into its chest. 

Riley panted at the close encounter before more demons began to run in through the doors. She fired round after round as she moved back into the hallways.

Dean and Henriksen bumped into each other as they were pushed further into the station by the coming army. They shared a quick look and hurried to reload. While back to back, they began to fire away, blasting anything that came close.

“Go! Go! Go!” Dean roared out as they both ran in opposite directions down the halls and a hoard of the possessed charged in after them.

Back in the bullpen, Sam was tackled to the ground by a side attack and he was forced into hand-to-hand combat. He was held in a chokehold as another demon came toward him. Sam then bashed the butt of his shotgun with all his might into the monster that held him to set himself free.

A cry came out from nearby. “Sam!” Riley’s boots screeched to a halt once she had a clear shot and she fired. The blast’s smoke blew from the barrel as the she loaded up once again.

Chaos enveloped the station as the four fought for their lives. Glass shattered, the sound of yelling and screams rang through the air, and gunshots fired with abandon nearly piercing their ears.

With all the demons inside, Phil and Nancy rushed at the opportunity to line all of the exits with salt. All the while, Sam, Dean, and Riley had all found their way back into the main office.

They were surrounded and flung holy water in every direction. Demons cried out in pain as their flesh hissed with every splash.

As their canteens ran dry, the hunters watched the hoard closed in on them. 

A single demon walked towards them, her eyes black. She stretched out her arm and her power sent Sam, Dean, and Riley flying against the wall. The crash of their bodies into the solid brick had them gasping in pain.

They looked at each other before Dean shouted at the top of his lungs. “Henriksen, now!”

A recording began to play through the sound system of Sam reciting the exorcism prayer. The demons froze and covered their ears, desperate to protect themselves.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversari, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis, humiliare sub potenti manu dei…”

As the exorcism continued to air over the loudspeakers, demons flailed and screamed. They began to pound at the doors trying to get out; still the barriers held. 

Black smoke began to shoot from their mouths and the bodies of the possessed people fell to the ground. Their energies converged together, creating a massive cloud of evil that swirled around the ceiling above them.

“Contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomini quem inferi tremunt ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, domine. exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!”

An explosion of light, brighter than fire, roared as the evil smoke was destroyed. The hunters squinted their eyes trying to protect themselves from the blast before everything went still. 

Finally free from the demon’s hold Sam, Dean, and Riley slid down the wall to the floor before they began to stumble to their feet, groaning.

Henriksen came into the office and chuckled softly as he wiped the blood from his cut lip.

The electrical power in the building flickered back on as those still living after their possession began to get up.

It was over, for the time being.

------

Henriksen, Riley, and the Winchesters gathered together around a desk as they collected their things. They all carried their own battle wounds, bloodied and bruised. 

People filed out the doors unsure of what had happened and with little to say.

“I better call in. Hell of a story I won’t be telling,” Henriksen joked.

Sam stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “So, what are you gonna tell them?”

“The least ridiculous lie I can come up within the next five minutes.”

“Good luck with that.” Dean smirked back. “Not to pressure you or anything, but what are you planning to do about us?”

“I’m gonna kill you. Sam and Dean Winchester, and Riley Munroe were in the chopper when it caught on fire--nothing left. Can’t even identify them with dental records.” The three smiled at Victor’s response. “Rest in peace, guys.” 

Sam and Dean took turns shaking the agent’s hand exchanging silent gratitude for each other. Riley cupped his hand into hers with a short squeeze and she nodded at him lovingly. 

“Now get out of here” he told them. 

“Yeah…” Flinging their bag over his shoulder, Sam began to walk toward the entrance. 

Dean’s good arm wrapped around Riley’s waist and pulled her to his side as they followed close behind.

------

Morning peeked over the hills and its light washed away the darkness. The night had finally passed and the hunters sat quietly in reflection in their motel room.

None of them had slept much with their adrenaline still rushing through them. There was guilt that sat with them realizing how many people had been lost in the fray. They knew they had saved as many as they could, but it would never be enough.

A knock on the door broke them from their thoughts and Dean went to open it. 

With her arms crossed over her chest and a disgruntled look on her face, Ruby waltzed in. “Turn on the news.”

Sam picked up the remote that sat on the nightstand beside him and pointed it at the television. 

A reporter was reading the most recent story as video of a horrific scene played out. Firefighters worked to manage the smoking building of the Monument County Sheriff’s office.

“The community is still reeling from the tragedy that happened just a few hours ago. Authorities believe a gas main ruptured…” 

Dean slowly sat down on the bed next to Riley as they all listened intently. 

“...causing the massive explosion that ripped apart the police station and claimed the lives of everyone inside. Among the deceased, at least six police officers and staff, including sheriff Melvin Dodd, deputy Phil Amici, and secretary Nancy Fitzgerald as well as three FBI agents, identified as Steven Groves, Calvin Reidy, and Victor Henriksen.” 

The pictures of those that Sam, Riley, Dean believed they had saved covered their TV screen. A shocked expression came over Dean as Riley covered her mouth in disbelief. 

“Three fugitives in custody were also killed. We’ll continue to follow the story here at the scene, but for now, back to you, Jim.”

Taking the remote from its spot near Sam, Ruby shut off the television and looked back at the others with a stern ‘I-told-you-so’ look.

“Must have happened right after we left.” Sam’s saddened gaze fell to the floor.

“Considering the size of the blast...” Ruby paused and tossed three small bags to each of the hunters. “...smart money’s on Lilith.

Dean’s face scrunched with skepticism. “What’s in these?”

“Something that’ll protect you--throw Lilith off your trail...for the time being, at least.”

Sniffling back the urge to cry, Riley turned to face Ruby. “So, what? We’re just supposed to thank you now?”

“Don’t thank me,” the demon bit back angrily as her jaw ticket. “Lilith killed everyone. She slaughtered your precious little virgin, plus a half a dozen other people. So, after your big speech about humanity, turns out your plan--was the one with the body count.” 

Sam, Dean, and Riley sat quietly feeling that sadly, Ruby was maybe right. 

“Do you know how to run a goddamn battle? You strike fast and you don’t leave any survivors, so no one can go running to tell the boss. So, next time...we go with my plan.” With one final wrathful glare, Ruby stormed away and flung the door open, slamming it hard behind her as she left.

Riley and the Winchesters went still as tears filled their eyes. The room was silent with no one knowing the words to say.

They had tried; they had tried with everything they had to save everyone that they could. The guilt the three were already feeling for the lives they had lost was enough to send them reeling. Still, knowing that no one else made it out alive because of how they decided to handle things, was like a knife to the heart. 

As hunters, their job was to save people, not to watch them die. They had failed in the worst possible way and it cost countless people their lives.

It was moments like that that would always give them pause to wonder if they actually were making a difference--maybe the job hurt more people than it saved. 

Sam, Riley, and Dean were forced to face the fact that they continued to leave death in their wake.

Fear is an expected constant in the lives of those who hunt. But, for those three, their greatest fear was that maybe it was all their fault, and theirs alone.

------

S3 Ch11: Time is on My Side

Tag List is always open!

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[honestsycrets]

Not My Scene || 5CW: Hvitserk

❛ Author’s Notes | fulfillment: party with hvitserk, masturbation with panties, right one too late.

❛ pairing | hvitserk/reader

❛ word count | 4661

❛ genre | angst

❛ summary | once upon a time, hvitserk cheated on his girlfriend. what a mistake that was.

❛ warnings | mention of drugging, mention of cheating, crazy margrethe, crazy freydis, reader is biiiiitch, but a lovable bitch

He could have stayed home. After all, house warming parties weren’t really his style. They were just excuses to booze up. Which, shit, he had. His brothers were busy arguing over wine coolers. Ivar insisted that they were a pussy man’s drink with malt liquor while Sigurd insisted that they could have heavier alcohol if they wanted to! Then were wine coolers really wine coolers or malt coolers?

Ugh. This whole thing was giving him one huge headache and he wasn’t sure it was the frozen tequila lemonade swirled with raspberries that he had downed. It was… well, it was you. You were slinking around wearing a cute tule minidress complete with a black matching cincher. A silky bow around your waist and--

Wait, he recognized that leather jacket.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been the one wearing it that first day he met you, swirling around in chunky black ankle boots that you were also wearing just by chance.

“Hvitserk!” He hears a group of your friends call out to him. His big brother Bjorn and Ubbe were in the fray. “Come take a picture with us!”

When Ubbe was there, he made it really hard to say no. So biting the bullet and carrying on, he made his way over to the group with his hands shoved in a freshly new hoodie.

“Stand by (Y/N)! For old times sake!” Your bubbly asian friend calls out and before he can really deny her, her adorably pudgy frame pushes him in beside you.

“Come here, bun-bun.” You pose cutely beside him, the side of your breast against his flat chest. “You’re not wearing a white shirt, today, white shirt?” You tease like old times, letting the ache of his heart beat for the times which… things were easier. When you loved him. He looks down to his black v-neck, laughing softly.

“No, guess I’m not.” He notes.

One! Two! Three! The blinding light of a flash marks the end of a photo. You reach onto the top of your head, flicking down holographic bug eyed glasses.

“Nice to see you again!” You wink at him then bubble on past the thin, stringy purple curtains back to the kitchen of your home. He wonders, and yet he knows, you feel nothing for him after falling apart in college.

You had your scene.

He had his.

With an aching sigh in his chest, Hvitserk turns the corners up the stairs to your bathroom. He could do with a cold splash of water to drag him out of this funk. It wasn’t as if Ubbe hadn’t taken to Bjorn. Sigurd and Ivar were begrudging company in their drinking contests-- spiting each other and loving each other all in one.

Climbing up the hardwood stairs, he comes to the bathroom. Locked with the flicker of a bright yellow light and obscene-- faster, faster off the lips of a couple. He almost thinks its some dude getting his rocks off but then, you like that? The other voice has an equally feminine quality.

Shit, he feels himself grow beneath his pants. He knows its wrong to harass a couple that may or may not be lesbians. So instead of beating down the door, he spots another room. The second he walks into it he knows its a mistake.

You always loved fairy lights. White ones to contrast against your favourite lavender, royal purple and cerulean blue. Deep and vivid while still being light and dainty. Quirky-- like you. He travels his fingers along the airy white of your furniture.

That one he pounded you into while your father was downstairs, claiming that the door better stay open. Then the armoire where… and mistakenly he ambles that way, sliding the metal dangling moon on top of your long cabinet that sits on top of the wooden piece to pull out the one place where you always kept them.

His fingers run across pretty, stringy panties. The other will be the same, he assumes. You always kept bras in one place and panties with another. Your sex toys would be in a sneaky-not so sneaky pouch and god, you would sneak into your bed at night and ride a fat dildo just for him on really good nights. Send him the video while you thought he wasn’t looking.

God damn.

His favourite panties always were those stringy, aqua cheekies with the cut outs. They weren’t there. He closes back up despite catching sight of all of the pretty white, powder pink and dark blue and purple panties that he bought you once upon a time. There’s some other obscure colours even. But his curiosity brings him to your galaxy clothes bin, searching between mini skirts and leggings until he finds what he’s after… his favourites.

Used and soiled by your sweet cunt, he shudders to think of where these might have been. Hvitserk hopes that they weren’t where he thought they were.

Bun-bun. Bunny.

He can hear that stupid nickname. What was it? For your love of bunnies or his man bun that had been chopped off the moment you messaged him, we’re over. God, it burns, it burns. He comes to your bed, squeaking as he lays upon it.

But it wasn’t all bad. There were good times! How cute you dressed up as his very own playboy bunny once. He sucks in air at that very memory on this very bed, shaking your puffy faux fur tail at him. Which really wasn’t a tail but a cheap marketing ploy for a beautiful fucking anal plug.

He should really not be here but thank god he locked that door because the heavy steps outside your door as he loosens his pants would have been killer. Beside your bed is a desk, bearing stupid little k-beauty masks and sweet vanilla lotion. He pumps a bit into his hand, drawing the panties around his cock. To his shock-- there’s still a moist spot.

Did you wear them to bed?

With another man?

A woman?

Or were you being the woman he remembered, watching your favourite porn on x-videos or hentai haven or whatever it was. Your body would grind down upon the chair, a bullet grazing your lips up to your slutty clit for love and shit, he knows how much you used to love gangbang porn.

Shiiiit. He tugs his cock, turning in the bed to turn his nose into your lavish silk pillows. Good for the hair, or some shit. He inhales sharply, working his fist harder and reliving the moments he was so able to lay in bed  with you… once upon a time ago. His strokes lose focus, falling apart in the richest of his memories.

“Bunny?”

Oh no. His nose is still deep in your pillows when he dares turn his face to you. Shock wears your beautifully done up face-- that purple highlighter accentuating your cheek bones and adorably innocent white glitter of your eyes. Shit, he squeezes his dick in his hand.

“You’re not…. You are!” You flick off those bug eyed glasses, tossing them aside as you take a few steps closer. He cringes, turning onto his forearms and backs up as if that can help him find the right words.

To be in your bed-- jerking his cock off.

With your panties.

“I… was… uh.” Hvitserk runs his hand through his slicked back hair, trying to find the right words. You pluck your panties off of his dick, flicking them in another direction. He nearly leaps out of his skin when you fist the root of his cock, sinking onto the bed.

“No need to say anything.” You hum, slapping the head of his dick against your glossed lips. “You missed me, BunBun.”

He wishes he could come up with something, but the only words are a shocked moan when you shove his dick into your wet, hot mouth. Hvitserk cringes, trying his best to still upon the bed. He can’t help himself, kicking out his legs as you suckle him down. It’s a show, taking him as far as you can take and then lifting up off of him like he was nothing.

“Please… no.” He whines at the absence of your lips upon him. But then, your lips sloppily kiss down his shaft in the same way he used to make whilst eating you out. Your mouth makes its way down to his balls, suckling one. Instant pleasure hits him like a train, causing him to uncomfortably shift. His hands search out for the top of your head but then-- you take ahold of his shaft. It’s too much-- it’s too much to have your lips upon him, migrating from one side to another, then on top of his his tip to devour him whole.

“Stop, stop stop!” He shouts for you to stop. Instead of helping though, you ignore him. He spills into your mouth with a great shout, painting the cavern of your mouth with his seed. Your lips seal around his cock, suckling the remains of his excitement down.

Damn.

“Shit.” He curses as you sit up. You push the remnants of his excitement into your lips and despite having gone soft-- its almost as if he wants to go hard allll over again. Your lips quirk into a wicked smile.

“You’re as easy as I remember.” You say, bouncing off of your bed and going into the connected bathroom. He hears you in the bathroom messing with your brush and toothpaste.

“What are you doing?” He asks from your bed— as meek as the bunny he was named after.

“Cleaning your spunk out my mouth, what do you think?” You say. A few minutes later, you resurface from the bathroom fluffing your hair a bit.

“Well? Get out, Bun Bun.” You busy yourself with applying a bright, popping lipstick. “If we get caught, it’ll be all your fault.”

You were kicking him out without talking of that? Whatever that was… it was random. He tucks himself away into his pants and you toss him your panties to confuse him further. You pop the door of your room open, flicking your glasses back on.

“Keep them as a momento. Since you’ll never get my pussy again, slutty bun. Maybe Margrethe is out there somewhere.”

I was drunk!

It was his fault.

All of this-- losing you, sleeping with Margrethe. Yeah, he knew that you were in your right to break up with him. But as he composed yourself in your bathroom, he kept convincing himself that there was something there.Most women would have tossed him out on his ass if there hadn’t been! Not sucked him off.

Even with all that in mind, he wished he could remember actually sleeping with Margrethe. This was the exact reason you kicked him out of your shared apartment at the time-- throwing trash bags of his shit out the door with. Every time that he tried to recall it, it was like descending into a deep black abyss. Perhaps guilt had done him in. Water is cold on his skin, sweat on his body mattifying. He digs into his jacket pocket, covering himself in what you always called a whore’s bath of cologne.

Fuck this… fuck this. Why couldn’t he… remember? Why!?

“Hvitserk.”

Behind him, Ubbe stood with his latest fling. A curvy, dark skinned girl with beautiful waved curls that wave in front of her face. Her slanted eyes dark and obscure… but she was warm. Different from what he was used to seeing on Ubbe’s arm.

“Yeah.” He smoothes out his hair, a few stray honey locks in his eyes.

“Laarni and I are going home.” Ubbe slides his arm behind the small of her back, leaning in to plant a small kiss on her head. Her plump lips spread into a sickly bright smile-- and of course it did. They were happy. “Margrethe and Freydis are here. Are you coming home?”

“I’ll be fine.” He says, staggering from behind the couple. “I just need a drink.”

Against his better judgement, Hvitserk stays.

Freydis and Margrethe were an unlikely sort of friends. He can’t say how they really got to know each other, only that as he sways down the steps, they cluster about drinking. Freydis chitchats beside her boyfriend Eric.

“--a little cherry makes it all better.” He catches the tail end of Margrethe’s words. “Hvitserk!”

Shit, fuck. She’s here. Hvitserk gives a light smile as he turns into the cluster of friends. Beside them is a cooler of drinks. He slips down to pick up a beer, popping it open and standing beside them. Margrethe sticks to him like a magnet, one that he quickly shaves off of his arm.

“Uh, I think I gotta go…” He murmurs an excuse for himself. Past Freydis’s sassing bob and Eric’s smooth hair, he finds you standing in the way you always used to when you watched him. A pop of your hips out, weight on one hip and your nail to your lip. The other held some kind of hard liquor. You shift the glass around between your manicured fingertips, tilting your head like the time you overheard he ate a pound of sourbelts at the mall.

“Why? Do you have someone new?” Freydis asks, bobbing her hair in a sassy little bob.

“No, I just…”

“Margrethe is here to take care of you.” She cuts him off, running the back of her hand over Margrethe’s soft cheek almost affectionately so. The touch could even be called tender. The thought whizzes by his head that the two must have been sleeping together because god, Margrethe leans into the touch.

“Uh, no I-- I think I’ll go home.” He slurs. “Lemme just go get a snack before I call a uber. I’m kinda wasted.”

Before he can move, Margrethe grasps his shoulder. She reaches out to take his drink, holding it with a sickingly bright smile that Hvitserk can’t see past.

“Get me some too! I’ll hold your drink.”  

Against his better judgement, he slips off to the kitchen. If it means getting away from Freydis, he would do anything. There was something… wrong about her. He couldn’t place it. It would just take a little bit, he reasons. Then he could get away from them. Besides he swore that there were wings when he came in earlier!

“Okay.”

Something didn’t sit well with you.

Yeah, Hvitserk wasn’t your responsibility any more. You should have just left things where they were in that room. He could have your panties and Margrethe’s pussy. Who cared! You certainly didn’t-- but in the same breath…Hell yeah you cared, that was the bitch that he cheated on you with.

You convince yourself to focus on what you were talking about. But of the corner of your eye, you catch something that doesn’t set well with you. Freydis digs into her glittering handbag, handing Margrethe something small. A vial that is smaller than her finger. Margrethe fiddles with the top, cracking the plastic top open… and then she spills it within what you were sure was Hvitserk’s drink. She swishes it around just enough that the liquid might mesh with whatever he has been drinking. There’s no guessing what that was.

“Sis, take a picture with us!” Your twin brothers call out to you. Ahh, shit. Being popular wasn’t all what it was cracked out to be.

Before you could get back to Freydis and Margrethe, Hvitserk came back with a plate for his once fling. Margrethe took it from his fingers, handing him his drink. Hvitserk sets his hand into his pocket.

“It’s kind of salty.” He motions, chugging down his drink. His face scrunches up tight. “So is this shit.”

“Must’ve gotten one of those skunk beers like me.” Eric nudges Hvitserk’s arm with a closed fist. Innocently Hvitserk thinks nothing of it. Shit, it happened. He moves to toss it into a recycling bin when you grab his wrist tight.

“Shit!” He jumps, heart pumping. “(Y/N), where did you come from?”

“Did you drink that?” You ask, light strobing off of your lovely cheeks. His face contorts as if he can’t understand why you were so protective over a drink. Maybe it was yours?

“Uh… was I not supposed to?” He asks.

“We were just leaving!”

From his side, Margrethe clings to his arm. You almost throw back something at Hvitserk, but he’s the first to insist that he wasn’t going with her. Desperately he looks toward you as if concerned that you would believe her-- her over him. Reasonable, you think. You recognize the glazing look over his eyes little by little. Just like last time.

“The fuck you are, you ratchet little bitch.” You sneer.

“Excuse me?” Margrethe rolls her neck around, a pink bob of hair bobbing on her head. Hvitserk looks between his ex and well, his other ex.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re playing with?” You snap her hand off of Hvitserk’s toned upper arms. A small, hope filled smile creeps onto his face-- but not at all for the reasons that he originally hoped.

“(Y/N), I’m uh, I’m fine.” He deflects the impending fight. Beside Hvitserk, Freydis and Erik creep closer. It should have been intimidating, but pushing Hvitserk behind your arm you ball up your fist. He staggers back from your arm shielding him.

“Get out of my damn house.”

It’s the first and last warning. Freydis looks toward Erik as if to threaten him-- but with two muscular twin brothers pushing past those clustered around the fight, Erik takes the high road. Sensing her boyfriend’s skepticism and perhaps having some of her own, Freydis reaches for Margrethe’s hand, pulling her in the way of the door.

“Come on Margrethe.” She says. “You can see Hvitserk later.”

The pathetic little whimper signals the fact that yeah, they’re leaving. As you turn back to Hvitserk, it’s with the realization that the glazing of his eyes has only thickened. If what you thought was true, was really true, time would be on your side.

“Are you okay, Bunny?” You ask.

It’s slow at first. The sluggish way he scratches the back of his head, arms like heavy weights. Everything in his body slowly begins to feel weaker, more prone to accidental brushes when his perception is throne off.

“I don’t feel so good. I’m sleepy.” Hvitserk’s speech shifts, almost pleasured. “But you look good. Real good.”

You shift around Hvitserk, bringing his arm over your shoulder. You grasp his waist to help him up the steps to your bedroom.

“Let’s go to my bedroom, okay?” You ask.

“For fuckin’?”

“Not quite, bunny boo. You’re drunk baby.” You respond in a smooth, quick response.

“I want it. I miss that tasty fucking pussy on my face.” Well, at least he wasn’t agitated.

Whatever it was that they had slipped into his beer, you couldn’t say. But knowing Hvitserk and his fear of doctors, you take him up to your room. Your brothers pull open the door and help you lower him onto the bed. Hvitserk’s drops his hands at his sides, laying limply upon your bed while you slip off his shoes.

“You okay, Hvitty? I’m going to change you, okay?” You slip off his socks, loosening the button to his belt. His eyelids are heavy with his need to sleep but he still manages to nod at you loosely.

“Okay… Does this mean I get a kiss? I got a headache…” He whispers while you strip him off his pants. His pasty legs are still beneath the fabric-- even more when you pull them away. You’re not entirely sure how the loss of motor function doesn’t bother him.

“Kiss?” He whines heavily while you walk over to your dresser. His old basketball shorts in your dresser being one of the main items. You lift up from his hips to place a gentle kiss on his lightly damp forehead.

“Kiss.” You affirm. At long last Hvitserk smiles loosely, but its not without its drawbacks. The heaviness of his eyes begins to overtake him. How did I get here? Before he can even get the answer to that question, he loses himself to the wave of exhaustion.

If this time was like last time, so you feared, Hvitserk wouldn’t remember anything from the next day. On the top of your bed was a thick, green blanket. Black shadowing makes the outline of a cutesy kitten with pearly white fangs mewing at the viewing party. You drape it over Hvitserk’s body, watching his respirations closely.

Through the night, it all becomes obvious.

Catching Hvitserk in bed with the claim that… he couldn’t remember anything. Back then it seemed like a handy excuse for a man that was caught in bed with his woman. Why not? You had caught him in his ball faced lie! What man woke up in bed with a woman and could not remember any details of the affair?

Apparently, Hvitserk.

The next morning comes as a shock to Hvitserk, puking his brains out into the trash receptacle on his edge of the bed the second he woke up. He felt his mind wandering… and again, that black hole of space owns his head.

Except this time, it’s not with Margrethe. Its your perfumed pillows under his head. Your quirky sheets and most importantly, your body by his. In his daze, he can hardly appreciate the fact that yeah, it wasn’t her this time.

“Shit… what happened?” He collapses upon the pillows at long last. You lay beside him, hands on your chest. A plain black slip covers your body-- evidence that he didn’t fuck you. If he had, shit, that thing would have been chucked onto the floor. His favourite was spooning naked with you, after all!

“What do you remember about the night I caught you cheating?”

That was a hell of a way to wake up the morning. Reflecting back upon it, the whole… weekend was a blur. He could hardly tell down from up or left from right. Not that he thought that you needed to know how he handled that night after catching him in another woman’s bed. No woman deserved that.

“I don’t remember. You… I guess you found me in bed with her when you came home from your overnight shift. So you broke up with me then and there.” Hvitserk states with stale emotion as if he’s reading lines handfed to him out of a book. Of course you knew that!

“Before that.” You roll onto your side with eyes following the fuzzy line of his sideburns down to his jaw.

“I don’t.” He states uncomfortably. What kind of man was he to… to… “Do we have to talk about this? You didn’t explain how I got here.”

As he points it out, you don’t have the heart to tell him why. Really why, not because of what happened that night. What could have happened before was what frightened you. What did Freydis, Eric and Margrethe want with your Bunbun? What had they planned to do to him?

“The girls drugged you.”

Hvitserk turns to face you in the bed and meets you with uncertainty. No, not uncertainty glinting in his innocent grassy eyes. That was… fear inking his irises. After all, it… if it was true… that could only mean one thing to him. Hvitserk wasn’t going crazy like Ivar and Ubbe told him he was while recounting the story.

It wasn’t because he was a whore who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. That wasn’t the reason that he lost time with the one woman that changed his traitorous body from succumbing to lust. No, he hadn’t just… laid on his back and slept with someone else because he wanted to. The whore, skank, slut, easy, she’s better off without you at school. It wasn’t him.

“What… what do you mean?” He dares to ask, knowing indeed the answer to his own irrelevant question.

“She was planning to rape you, Bunny. If I… hadn’t been watching, Erik and Freydis would be in bed with Margrethe and you.” Your words settle like a heavy stone in his gut. Of course, he always speculated there was more.

But… this? Margrethe would do this to him?

He never thought he broke up that cruelly with her for Margrethe to ruin his world. Not just his world, but to strip away something that belonged to him: his memory. For so long Hvitserk did not believe his own brain. He lays there, staring at the smooth lines of the top of your room.

“She… raped me.”

It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. Your hands come over his waist, winding around him to hold him nice and tight. His hand falls down to the one around his waist.

“It’s okay Bunny.” You soothe. “It’ll all be okay.”

It certainly didn’t feel okay. Not when he considered all that he lost. Yet…

“Don’t tell Ubbe. You know my brothers.” He glances over his shoulder, tears pricking his eyes that he holds still. If Ubbe found out then the rest of his brothers would surely know. Sigurd could hold no secrets and he fears what Ivar would spill with that big mouth of his. Because, after all, what kind of man allowed himself to be drugged by a woman? He was meant to be a protector. To protect YOU. Not the other way around.

“You should tell him.” You whisper, setting your cheek upon his shoulder. “In your time.”

All this time he thought he drank too much.

“Maybe one day.” Hvitserk nudges his arm over his cheek, rolling into his shoulder to dry the wet lines of his shame. You know that he would not. Pressing him-- after all that he had gone through, that would have been a mistake. After a decisive moment, you reevaluate everything.

“Bunbun?”

Hm? Hvitserk grunts in his response.

“Was that the only time you… “cheated” on me?” You question with great skepticism. That wasn’t cheating. Of course you knew that was a woman that worked hard with at risk youth who had gone through the same experiences as your sweet, adorable bun. Who was now much less of a Bunbun than he used to be.

“Why would I do that?” Hvitserk turns back around. The tears he spilled earlier are dry and now, well, he only shows his outrage to the assumption that he had done it upon his own. Not exactly the most graceful of appeals but he knows the manner in which you speak. If there was any doubt of that-- he rather take care of this pesky issue now.

“I never gave you reason before then. (Y/N) if I ever did you should have asked me! I wouldn’t lie to you. You are the only reason I would cut my bun, (Y/N). The only one!”

Sure, he never did. But in your concern for going through that feeling again, kicking Hvitserk out with trash bags of his things, slouching against the cold walls of your constricting apartment… you had to ask. You hold his green eyes in an accusatory glare, searching out the sign of his fault. There’s none.

“Then… you can come back home.” Your hands travel behind his head, picking at the short little bits of hair that have been making a sad little ponytail.

“What?” He murmurs. A smile escapes his lips, growing until you give him a little tug. “You serious?”

“But first you have to grow out your hair, Bun!” You exclaim. What kind of bun didn’t have a proper bun!

“Done and done.”

@two-unbeatable-beaters, @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @titty-teetee, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @piebytheocean, @strangunddurm, @atequilahead, @rekdreams247, @justacrush, @ivarswonderlust, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @dylanowhyyien, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @huntingbears, @my-little-wolfe, @seize-the-droid, @moondustmemories, @colourmeinblue, @ilvebeenabad, @queenmissfit,  @hallowed-heathen, @neeadinghugs, @mblaqgi, , @triumphantreturnofpies, @dmv49, @attorneyl, @iconicvaleria-blog, @lovelynerdytraveler, @tierneygonzalez, @zabee113, @meganjudee, @sdcyumyum, @ms-allenbrown, @pancake-blonde, @ivarswickedqueen, @starkiddreamer, @austenkingmylady, @thisisparadisemylove, @pinkrockstar19, @jeowjungkook, @end-of-night, @yaminax-kuss-a , @gruffle1, @arses21434@natalie-rdr, @tempt-ress, @thevikingsheaux, @poisonedjoinery, @smokealone, @chewythecatus, @laughinglikenialler, @lefrenchfrye, @mybarnesmyhero, @vengefulflange, @imcreepininyourheartbabe, @therealmrshale, @that-goodgirl, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @athroatfullofglass @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434,  @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102

[namonakirei]

You wake up in a cold sweat, in a place you’ve never seen, and in clothes you’ve never worn. There’s someone sitting at the edge of the bed that looks at you and simply says ‘welcome.’

Blearily, you open your eyes. The strong light makes you shut them closed with a slight groan, but you still sit up, and rub your forehead with your sleeve. Cold, damp sweat clings to you, making the loose garment you’re wearing cling to your skin, and you feel breathless, so you take a few moments to compose yourself before attempting to open your eyes again. The light is still very strong for you, but after blinking for a while your eyes get accustomed to it, and you can finally take a look at your surroundings.

You realize you have no idea where you are. This doesn’t look like your bedroom. This bed is not like your bed. And you distinctly remember wearing your flannel pajamas last night, yet your shirt feels like some sort of light cotton fabric. You look at the bedsheets, soft and silky, a rich red colour with golden embroidery at the edges. They look like they’re fit for a ruler, not for... just you.

“Welcome.” You hear a voice say, and you look up, abruptly. There’s someone sitting at the edge of the bed. You’ve never met this person, and you scamper back on the bed in fright. You have no idea who they are, with a rich black velvet suit with purple edges and embroidery, a hat that they tilt slightly in greeting, and facial features that are somehow obscured, even though they’re right here in front of you.

“What- who- where...” You can’t really articulate what you are thinking. It's hard to think right now, you're still groggy and confused- overall confused. The person laughs, and grins with a Cheshire grin. They stand up and bow to you, and vanish. You rub at your eyes, stunned, and look around to make sure they're truly gone. There is no trace of them, except a slight indent at the foot of the bed, the sheets still wrinkled from where they had sat on them.

A knock on the door knocks you out of your stupor. A voice comes from the other side, "May I come in?" You hear a woman say. You are at a loss for words for several moments, and the woman says, "I can leave you for another few minutes... but we have been waiting for you. Please do not delay too much."

"I... what?" You manage to get out, confusedly. "What... what are you talking about?"

"Oh dear..." You hear a sigh through the door, "I'm coming in!"

The door unlocks, and a woman dressed in a simple gown walks in. She bows to you, "My apologies for the intrusion. I presume you weren't told anything this morning?"

"Told what? What?" You blink, a little dumbly. She sighs again, and flattens her gown a little, a nervous gesture, you think.

"We've been waiting for you." She starts, "For a very long time..."

"That... doesn't explain anything." You state, still incredibly confused. You feel a little at the cotton nightgown you're dressed in. You prefer your flannel pajamas, you think, but then again, this place is warmer than your house.

"But still, it is true. We have been waiting. And you are finally here." She shakes her head, "I cannot tell you more now... but I can tell you we are waiting. And we will keep waiting... Do you need help dressing?" She asks.

"I... ah... no? No. I don't." You decide that being helped in getting dressed would be just too much weirdness in one day, even though you think you'd appreciate the company. The woman bows her head, and heads to the door.

"We will be at the end of the hall, through two sets of doors." She informs you, then leaves.

Alone, you look around the room. It's ornate, wooden panels painted white and decorated with carvings, some inlaid with gold leaf in beautiful accents. It's not too overstated, with only a few accents in each wall panel. There's a bedside table of simple wood, and a large armoire with two drawers below the door, and a large full-body mirror in its centre.

You get up and open the door of the armoire. A wide array of beautiful clothing is in front of you. You have never seen such rich clothes, and you have no idea what some of them even are, but as you look, one particular set of clothes calls to you. You take them out of the armoire and put them on, looking at yourself in the mirror. You look amazing, if you say so yourself, in the Asian-style blue shirt with metallic embroidery, gold and copper threads weaving together into a dragon that wraps around your body. Your pants are nearly black, but not quite, and give a touch of simplicity to your look. You take a few minutes to comb your hair, which is getting a little too long and needs a trim, and arrange it neatly before leaving the room.

The hallway is as beautiful as the room was, with a soft, velvety carpet, and many ornate lamps. You walk to the first set of double doors, still confused, but feeling a little more confident now that you're actually dressed. You sigh a little and take a moment to inspect the ornately carved wood. It's beautiful. You're glad it's not inlaid with gold or anything, just carvings of circles within circles that give the illusion of moving as you walk close to it.

You open the set of doors and find yourself in a small room. There are three sets of doors here, but you assume the larger set of double doors leads to where you must go. The other doors look old and worn, one  more so than the other, nearly falling off its old hinges, and when you try them, they are locked. You frown a bit, but walk to the next set of double doors. Circles within circles greet you again, and you push them open, and walk through.

You're in a balcony overlooking a large room. There is a crowd of people in it, below, standing at attention. You see the woman that talked to you somewhere near the front, and the person that welcomed you is standing at the back, near another set of dizzying doors. They tap their hat with a nod of acknowledgement and that wide Cheshire grin of theirs. You stand there, stunned. A group of people are grinning and seem to quietly congratulate each other. You notice that all of them dress in shades of blue. The rest of them seem torn between happy and disgruntled people, and your confusion grows, if that is even possible.

You walk closer to the railing, and they all line up properly. An old man with a white head of hair and a well-cared for moustache, wearing a dark blue suit with silver accents, takes a step forward.

"All Hail our rightful ruler!" He shouts to the crowd. And they respond in union,

"All Hail!"

@writing-prompt-s

[perfectirishgifts]

Cindy Chao’s New Shanghai Showroom Celebrates Art And Design

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/cindy-chaos-new-shanghai-showroom-celebrates-art-and-design/

Cindy Chao’s New Shanghai Showroom Celebrates Art And Design

The salon in Cindy Chao’s Shanghai showroom with custom designed furnishings reflecting Chao’s … [] personality and style

Cindy Chao’s first showroom in mainland China has the makings of a masterpiece, which coincidentally is the name she gives her most precious and sought-after jewelry creations. The new space on Yuanmingyuan Road was unveiled in mid-November and is open for private appointments. It joins her two showrooms in Hong Kong and her native Taipei.

Yuanmingyuan Road is a quiet pedestrian-only street a stone’s throw away from The Bund, the city’s crowded waterfront attraction. The prestigious street is known for its historic century-old buildings that are in such pristine condition, it seems as if they were recreated recently. The street is lined with luxury stores and art galleries. Chao’s showroom is next to the building that houses Christie’s Shanghai office.

The entrance to Cindy Chao’s Shanghai showroom with timber panels on the walls sculpted by a Dutch … [] master carver

Chao, in a recent interview said the plan was to build her third showroom in London but the global coronavirus pandemic put that project on hold, so she shifted her priorities to Shanghai, where the luxury market is robust.

“The china market is booming,” she said in a recent interview. “Art fairs held in the country this year were well attended with collectors from everywhere in china. The galleries sold out of pieces. The dynamic is good. That’s why we shifted to Shanghai first.”

The only display case is at the entrance to Cindy Chao’s Shanghai showroom

Chao, the granddaughter of an architect and the daughter of a sculptor, is known for her sculptural gem-encrusted jewels, marketed under the Cindy Chao The Art Jewel brand, that combine multiple regional influences with Western craftsmanship. She combined these myriad influences in the design of her new space by using designers and artists from Europe with international pedigree.

The space was designed by Dutch architect, Tom Postma, known for his museum installations and for designing the interior of the iconic TEFAF Maastricht art fair, where Chao has exhibited the past two years. Postma also collaborated with Chao for her exhibition booth at the 2020 art fair held in March.

The library in Cindy Chao’s Shanghai showroom

She uses the word “maison” to describe the space and it seems appropriate. In fact, she sees the space as an extension of her home. Remarkably, there is only one wall-mounted display case for her jewels in the entire space. “It’s for friends and collectors that’s very comfortable and peaceful. I think to create a less commercialized environment brings a different perspective to jewelry.”

The multiple rooms within the space seem to combine the atmosphere of a museum, library and a living room. Dark, neutral hues are dominate on the walls, floors and most of the furnishings with splashes of contrasting white on the ceilings, throw carpets and some of the plusher furnishings. Books and various original artworks are placed within the rooms. Ambient and recessed lighting are used throughout space, complemented in some rooms by outside light. Chao, a stickler for detail, was heavily involved in the design and construction.

The salon and library areas. On the left is one of two custom Chinoiserie-style cabinets

The narrow entryway was designed with inspiration from early Eastern and Western religious architecture. Timber panels covering the walls were sculpted by a Dutch master carver. Each panel is unique, bearing the marks of the chisel held by the craftsman. The hallway leads to the singular display case, which is cast in bronze and hand-sculpted by Postma. The display is situated next to a large hand-carved sliding door that welcomes collectors into the lounge. Almost every piece of furniture in the lounge was custom designed for the space, reflecting Chao’s personality and style. Postma was responsible for the design of various pieces such as the library desk, the round table, side tables, door handles, washroom furniture and built-in furniture.

The 880-pound bronze door at the entrance and gold-colored back wall in the VIP room were designed by Ingrid Donat, a French-Swedish sculptor who specializes in decorative arts. The door is comprised of eight pieces of hand carved bronze panels. The gold-colored back wall in the VIP room is created in a Baka pattern – inspired from primitive and tribal arts. Chao says the pattern injects the cold and flat textures with movement, warmth, and life. The patterns were constructed by hand on aluminum, using custom tools and the use of heat to manipulate the material, with patinas to animate it further.

The VIP room with a custom-designed golden back wall

In the lounge is a pair of Asian-themed cabinets that Chao calls “Armoires Parade,” custom-made by French designer, Hervé Van der Straeten. The cabinets are veneered with ancient Chinese lacquered panels, lacquered wood and patinated bronze. The inside is made out of Indian rosewood featuring intriguing floating shelves with bronze decorative elements. The pair of cabinets took eight months to make and required 1,200 hours of precision artisan work that included cabinetry, bronze work, lacquer work and ancient lacquers restoration. “These cabinets are the contemporary interpretation of the taste for Chinoiseries and cross-culture integration between Eastern and Western artistry,” Chao says.

The showroom also contains bronze animal sculptures created by French artist, Daniel Daviau, whose sculptures are collected worldwide.

Chao says the space prepares collectors “to be most emotionally receptive” to her creativity and artistry.

More from Watches & Jewelry in Perfectirishgifts

[bdestatesales1]

**3 Three Days Sales**

 Franklin Sale 

         FAMILY MOVING OUT OF COUNTRY IMMEDIATELY,          EVERYTHING MUST GO!                    105 Turnberry Dr          Franklin TN 37064                    November 12-14,          2020          9am to 4pm                    Leather Brown Sofa and Settee, Mirrors, Laura          Ashley King Size Bed, Mattress, Armoire, Dresser, Nightstands (2          years old) 2 Full Size Beds, Dressers, Queen Size Bed, Dresser, 60          inch TV, 32 inch tv and  other tv's, Towels, Linens, Arthur          Court, Matching overstuffed sofa, chair and ottoman, Lots of original          art, Christmas Presents, Deco, Halloween/Fall Deco, Books, Ping Pong          Table, LG Washer and Dryer, Golf, Baseball, Tennis, and other Sports          gear, Bikes, Hand Tools, Yard Tools, Lawnmower, Leaf Blower, Ladders,          Trunks, University of Georgia Memorabilia, Signed U of GA football          art, Electronics, ROKU TV streaming, Printer, Playstation 3, Out of          Print Games, Office Chair, File Cabinet, White Hutch, End Tables,          Coffee Table, Credenza, Small Ottoman, Deco Pillows, Jewelry, Art          Easel, Paint, Paint Brushes, Outside Round Table and 4 chairs,          Outside Ottoman, Grille, Flower Pots, Flowers, Yeti Cooler, Army foot          locker, Baby Clothes, size 3 months to 2 , Youth Boys & Girls          med, 12, 14, Ladies Clothes 4, 6, Small, Shoes 8 1/2to9, Men's XL,          35/34, Shoes 12, Towels, Sheets, Blankets, Frames, Tea Cart, China,          Small kitchen appliances, kitchen accessories. Wicker Bench

 Click            Here for Pictures!

  House Full in Madison                    804 N. Summerfield Dr           Madison TN 37115                    November 12-14, 2020          9am to 4pm                    Lillian Russell Bedroom Suite, Upright Piano,          Victorian Furniture, Fabulous Clothing (PS-PL), Designer Handbags,          Size 4 Shoes, Wine Fridge, Vintage Glassware, Samsonite Luggage,          Fall/Easter/Xmas Decorations (Fitz & Floyd, Christmas Village,          More) Desk, Recliner, Corner Cabinet, China Cabinet, Glass          Top Kitchen Table, Patio Set w/Umbrella, Planters, Kitchen          Items,  Vintage & Costume Jewelry,           Sterling/Silverplate Silver, Eastlake Marble Top Tables, Mirrors,          Lamps, Home Decor,  Maytag Washer/Dryer, Refrigerator

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  HUGE OAK          HILL AREA SALE

5020 Franklin Pike          Nashville, TN 37220                    November 12-14, 2020          9am to 4pm

                                                         DO NOT MISS THIS SALE!! Home          overflowing with signature brand furniture, original oil paintings,          area rugs and collectibles! This eclectic collection of high quality          furniture and home accessories is seldom available in one home!

         2003 Jaguar X-Type (103, 000 miles), Maitland          Smith Large Inlaid Center Table,  Office Chest with Pullout for          Keyboard, Lloyd Buxton Breakfront, White Furniture Company-          Silverchest, Chippendale Chest and  Bodart Black and Gold          Display Cabinet, French Sofa, Two Glass Top Coffee Tables, Bombe          Chest,  Chinese Chippendale Rectangular Table, Oil Paintings,          Jasper Cabinet Secretary, Lamp Tables, End Tables, Pair of Black and          Gold Arm Chairs with Cane Seats, Black Bamboo Table with Brass          Border, Braxton Culler Wicker Table and 4 Chairs, Large Entertainment          Center,  Sofa Tables, Pair of Asian Display Shelves, Office          Desk, Large Sunburst Mirror, Large Hanging Tapestry, Area Rugs/          Carpets, Assorted Prints, Rolling Bar Cart,   Broyhill Bedroom          Suite with Queen Sleigh Bed, Dresser, Chest, and Nightstand, Large          Christmas Collection, King Size Sleigh Bed, Contemporary Country          French Style Dresser, Chest and Pair of Nightstands, Blanket Chest,          Patio Table and 6 Chairs, Patio Set with Sofa, 2 Chairs and Table,          Patio Chairs, Yard Art, Assorted Figurines, Fall Decor, Yellow Metal          Wagon, Hand Tools, Yard Tools, Vacuum Cleaners, Fans, Geriatric          Upright Walker, File Cabinets, Pots and Pans, Glassware, Flatware,          Womens Clothing (Small Sizes), Mens Clothing (Medium Sizes), Mens and          Womens Shoes, More!           STILL TOO MUCH TO LIST!!                                                    

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[bax16]

I like goin to antique stores. You know the kind. The lil crowded-as-fuck shops full of knick-knacks and old furniture sellin things rangin from a few cents to thousands of dollars. The ones that always look rundown and structurally unstable even though they’re not, just because of how crowded they are. The ones that you find scattered here and there in every city, that every county seat has right on their historic town square. The unofficial and unexplained ordinary histories of the towns they live in. I love em.

My dad calls it all junk, says they ain’t really antiques cause they ain’t priceless and a thousand years old. That the Americas ain’t got a history worth speakin of, and won’t for another 500 years. But that’s the Asian and European conception of antiquaries, not mine. The finest “real” antiques may be crownin achievements of human artistry, but they mean nothin more to me than expensive decoration.

The antique mall antiques hold stories of ordinary people as told through ordinary things. It’s material culture, as preserved in junk. If you don’t know a people’s material culture, you can’t know how they lived, how they thought, how they existed. Understandin material culture allows you to understand people’s daily concerns. How they differed from ours, and how they were like us. It may not be the apex of intellectual and creative achievement, but it’s a piece of the heart and soul of a family or a town or a culture gone by and forgotten. It may be junk, but it allows us to reconstruct an image of the people in a way that even photographs and personal diaries and official histories can’t.

We all joke about how kids these days don’t know the pain of rewindin VHS tapes, of hearin the tortured screams of the dialup connection, or the joy of visiting a Blockbuster. That’s material culture. And look how quickly it was forgotten. A mere ten years, and it’s all already almost obliterated from the collective consciousness of the youngest generations. It’s happened with every generation and every innovation. Just thirty years ago, callin the county seat from my town would’ve been considered a long distance call. How do I know that? My friend who was a 70s kid told me. If he hadn’t, I’d’ve never had any idea. I’d never even had remotely considered the possibility.

Our cultural memory is short. Our collective soul is constantly bein recycled. That’s why I value these antique stores so much. They capture an era frozen in time. They’re crystallized fragments of a society gone by: old magazines, old toys, old family photos, old typewriters and armoirs and baby cages and pesticide sprayers and glass bottles and spice tins and lunchboxes and saddles and such. They’re enchanted with the memories of the people they served. They’re literally irreplaceable, and their collective worth is (or should be) far more than the price tag tied around em.

Go visit an antique store when you can y’all