#how are you even going to ask them out in a way that they'll be receptive to??

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

councilor!sevika x assistant!reader

you and sevika have to attend a banquet. and yes, sevika is wearing a dress

tags: sfw

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

"behave. promise?" you look up to sevika, finishing your work of smoothing out the wrinkles on her dress and brushing off little dust dots.

she is basically pouting, the prospect to waist the night at some rich folks banquet seems hellish to her.

you spent hours convincing her to go. "you have to go, we worked so hard for the council to like you, gotta uphold the image." eventually, sevika agrees and you're surprised that you didn't have to butter her up more.

it appears to be she just wanted to save energy for further arguments. because as soon as you suggested her wearing a dress, she enthusiastically refused, which led you to more bickering.

you won, of course. as soon as you started dating, sevika was never able to say no to you. so when you came to the last resort of "please, babe, you'll look so hot", when all the logical arguments of "you'll seem more aproachable", "they'll notice your effort to try and fit in" etc. didn't work.

you understood, though not fully since your backgrounds were so different, how hard it was for sevika to be on the council, fighting for her people's right to live happily, at times bending her temper and swallowing harsh words said her way. but piltover's elites are a bunch of snobs and you have to make them tolerate you before you can do anything productive.

"we need to get the budget for exchange programme and for that you need the votes." your recent project to help zaun's teens study abroad that both of you've been fighting for tooth and nail for several months now.

sevika huffs out and brings her head down, nuzzling in the crook of your neck. "alright. promise."

finally getting the confirmation, you pat her head gently, to not ruin the wet hairstyle you've done yourself, practicing for days in advance.

"remember what i told you?"

"be nice, let you do the talking." sevika raises her head to look at you again.

"good girl" you smile and turn to grab your clutch from the vanity. you look over yourself in the mirror one final time and make your way to the door, not bothering to check if sevika follows you.

"will i get something as a reward?" she asks, her voice deep, as she catches your arm and presses your body into the corridor's walls, towering over. and, gods, she looks divine. the black fabric hugging her body in all the right places, highliting her curves for your eyes to feast on. your hand runs up her bare spine, fingers lightly touching the muscles. "is the prospect of helping your people not enough of a reward, councilor?"

both of you giggle, and you get this buzzing in your stomach as you feel sevika's body shake slightly from laughter against yours. gone were the days when you avoided her for that exact feeling, making you two miserable. you found that sedating your conscience and work ethics was very easy around her, in her arms. hiding your relationship wasn't much of a trouble since sevika didn't seem to like explicit pda, the most you got is a peck on the cheek or a stroll hand in hand, when you knew you're away from any colleagues. and sevika definitely doubled down behind the closed doors, basically attached to your hip, unable to keep her hands off you.

"come on, time to head out." you push sevika lightly on the shoulder to head to the door.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚˚⁺‧͙

the evening was going smoothly so far. you and sevika arrived fashionably late to attract enough needed attention. people were starring, you knew that much even though the glances were not addressed your way. they were in awe, looking sevika up and down, taking in her broad shoulders, crosses by the black straps of the dress.. you had to hide a smirk every time you noticed, knowing you were the one to dress her up in all the nicest things that suited her so much.

your time was mostly spend by sevika's side, floating between this and that groups of people. the wealthiest merchant's family. an ambassador, seemingly finally able to return to piltover and enjoy his home's elite life. some carefree and arogant flock of politician's kids.

sevika was growing bored and restless by a minute. the best you could do is snatch a glass of champagne from the waiter's tray and push it in sevika's hand. "give me half an hour. an hour at most." you promised her.

"i don't know how you do this." she sipped her champagne and rolled her eyes.

"it's fun really, if you know how to play-"

"councilor sevika! wasn't expecting you to join us tonight." a cheery man interrupted you, making you take a step back from sevika for a more appropriate distance. you looked the man over and recognized him as pavle peric, the owner of the biggest precious metals mines in piltover, he didn't seem to even adress you.

"my conscience wouldn't let me stay away from this." sevika answered and smiled, sharing a look with you.

"yes, yes. great you're finally taking time to fit in the society." it looks like pavle took sevika's smile as his accomplishment as his smirk widens. "we all were wondering when you finally open up to some local culture."

you notice sevika tense slightly at the comment, as she catches the jab. a way to ruin a perfectly fine evening, you sigh inside your head.

"a new position, especially such as a councilor can take some time to get used to the new responsibilities." you're quick to smooth out the situation before the disaster happens. your hand touches sevika's lightly, asking to let you handle it. she stays silent.

pavle finally seems to notice you. his face scrunches, the man isn't happy that you dared speaking to him. "well, i suggest councilor expand her social circle. my advice to you, you can't always drag servants with you at events like this." he laughs cruelly, looking you up and down.

"she's my assistant." sevika cuts out, immediately starting to boil with anger.

"a servent, an assistant, same thing really. my advice to you, councilor sevika. first thing you gotta do is meet right friends. you're in piltover now, time to find people your level."

it all happens too fast. one second sevika stands by your side, the other she launches for the man, grabbing him by the lapel of his suit. your group gets couple of surprised gasps, the only thing that saves you is that you're standing behind a massive column, which hides you from the rest of the hall.

"do you think the same of the workers in your mines?! some consumable material to fill you pocket, while they lay their health and lives for their families to have a chance to survive?!"

you're panicking. sevika's right of course, pavle is a real scum and doesn't hide it. the way he runs his business, the way he treats his employees. but such an outburst can cause you and sevika months of hard work. you approach sevika, feeling guilty for your next words.

"councilor, please. mister peric is only giving his feedback as a more experienced man in these matters."

"no." her brows frown more, she doesn't spare you a glance, still fixated on the man. yet she gives in a little, letting go of him but still towering over pavle's figure. "you will apologize to my assistant."

"no need. mister peric didn't offend me in any way."

sevika persists, waiting for men to speak up but he's definitely too scared by her force now to say a thing.

"we still need to meet councilor shoola, councilor sevika." you try again, your hand carefully touches her back, and you just hope that the gesture would go unnoticed by others. it seems to work, goosebumps rise up sevika's spine as she relaxes a little, her expression still furious though.

a silent moment passes between the three of you before sevika turns with a low growl and storms away, heading for the massive glass doors which lead to the manor's gardens.

you take your time to say sorry to the man and hurry outside after her.

it's dark already, the hours come closer to midnight. still it's not hard to find sevika outside, she chose a place for you to notice her immediately when you walk out.

"say it." she huffs out and crosses her arms on her chest.

"what do you want to hear?" you smile slightly as she reminds you of a pouty kid. only to you though, if someone would see sevika in a mood like this, they'll think twice before even coming closer.

"i ruined it."

"you didn't ruin anything, vika."

you chew on your lip for a moment, thinking what to say next while sevika just stays quiet.

"i'm thankful, really." you look around for the unwanted witnesses and, after making sure no one is watching you, put you palm on her cheek.

"there were no person in my life before, who would've stand up for me like you did there."

"cause all of them have their head up their ass." sevika's anger seems to calm down, words less harsh. she covers your hand with hers, pressing her face deeper into your touch.

"but you need to understand-"

"here it comes." she rolls her eyes but doesn't let go.

"-i'm able to handle people like him." you continue, putting pressure into your words.

"your people's well-being is more important than my honor."

sevika just sighs, neither denying nor agreeing with you. you just stand there, waiting for her to process what she needs.

finally, something in her face shifts, she takes a deep breath and hits you with a quiet "i love you."

it's not the first time you hear it, you say that to each other almost every day. but this time just feels different, like it has more meaning to it. you have not much to say in the response except for simple "i love you too, vika."

both of you hear footsteps somewhere near, making you let go of each other, an intimate moment between you not ruined completely, bit it reminds you that you're not alone.

"i think it's time to head home." sevika suggests and you can't do anything but to agree.

—————————————————————————

tbh wanted to write this as oooh sexy sevika in a dress but it took completely different turn. but i guess still gonna write sev in a dress smut (i feel like she definitely needs to be strapped for being so good), cause that's what sevika stans deserve 🫦

[sxcret-garden]

Ateez Reaction ღ Their s/o experiences verbal shutdowns

ღ Ateez all members x gn!reader ღ words: ~200 per member ღ genre & warnings: reaction, comfort, a hint of angst but everything turns out well ღ reader: no descriptions of reader’s anatomy, no pronouns used

a/n: I'm not 100% satisfied with how these turned out, but I wanted to post them anyway, in hopes they'll be a comfort to some^^

Hongjoong:

he’s a little confused to say the least when one day you decide to tell him about your verbal shutdowns

he’s never actually heard that there’s a term for this, neither has he considered this as something that simply happens to some people and isn’t something that can really be overcome

so after the initial shock he decides to just listen to what you have to say first of all, wanting you to explain it in as much detail as possible so he could understand

and you’re mostly telling him this so he won’t worry too much and know what’s going on when it inevitably happens in front of him for the first time

so when he asks about how to help you in such a situation, you’re caught off guard

he makes it clear that he really wants to support you, but since he’s never experienced this himself, he wouldn’t know how to do that intuitively

and when you stumble over your words trying to come up with an answer, he ends up chuckling at you being so flustered all of a sudden

“It’s okay, we can take this slow.” - he reassures you

once you’re calm and collected again, he listens intently, and in case you’re not actually sure what would help you the most during a verbal shutdown, he also offers to do some research with you and help you figure that out

Seonghwa:

listens very intently when you tell him about this, and also takes you very seriously

he’s curious to know everything about your verbal shutdowns and how to help you whenever you experience one, but he also doesn’t want to overwhelm you with questions

so after the initial conversation about it, he makes sure to do a lot of research, looking up other people’s experiences, tips, etc…

he wouldn’t forgive himself for accidentally saying or doing the wrong thing and making matters worse, so he’s very dedicated to learning whatever he can about this

and he will be so supportive, suggesting using communication cards, or some kind of signal only the two of you know about for when you lose the ability to speak temporarily

and once it does happen, he proves just how well he researched the whole topic, because he’s quick to understand what’s going on, and he doesn’t pressure you to speak in any way

instead he leads you somewhere where you can recollect yourself, and he gives you the space you need to feel comfortable and safe with him

Yunho:

gets so worried the first time you have a verbal shutdown in front of him

you were mid-conversation about a bit of a difficult topic, and suddenly you go completely quiet, so he immediately figures something must be wrong

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he calls out to you, but you can’t react, because you don’t even know whether you should nod or shake your head

he comes closer and carefully reaches out to you, resting his hand on your upper arm as he observes you closely with furrowed brows and helplessness reflecting in his eyes

“Did I say something wrong?” he throws another question at you, and this time you manage to shake your head

and thankfully he decides to just wait it out and stay right by your side for now, because after a few minutes of racing thoughts you finally succeed in conveying to him that you can’t talk right now

tells you it’s okay and that it’s enough if you just nod or shake your head, before offering you a hug which you gladly accept

once your speech has returned to you and you explain to him what exactly happened, he will listen intently and make sure to ask about how you want him to act if it happens again, so that he can properly help you through this

Yeosang:

he gets so worried the first time you have a verbal shutdown in front of him that he doesn’t know what to do

he tends to struggle with figuring out how to deal with unexpected situations like this too, and especially when it’s about seeing a person he cares about suffer while not knowing how to help, he just panics internally

manages to stay calm on the outside though, and once some time has passed he will definitely ask you about this, because this guy will literally be unable to relax until he knows how to deal with such a situation

and when you explain to him that sometimes you simply can’t speak no matter how hard you try, everything clicks in his head

“Oh my god… I thought I said something wrong and upset you…”

now that he knows what’s going on he’s relieved

and he’ll feel even more at ease when you tell him what you want him to do (or don’t want him to do) in a situation like this

but even if you haven’t fully figured out yet what helps, he’ll be more than happy to try anything you suggest

though he will still worry, but at least like this he won’t freeze up anymore and can actually support you!

San:

another one who’s worried sick when he first witnesses you in a verbal shutdown

a thousand thoughts are racing through his mind at once when you suddenly stop answering upon him asking you a bit of a sensitive question

he’ll immediately think it’s all his fault and that he has accidentally hurt you deeply, and seeing the guilt on his face is eating away at you, especially because you currently lack the ability to explain yourself

so you do the only thing that feels possible right now, and you shake your head vigorously as tears of helplessness well up in your eyes

and that’s when he decides that comforting you should be the top priority right now

so he offers you a hug, and when you accept it right away, he’s a little relieved

“It’s okay…” he whispers close to your ear, “You’re okay, I’m here.”

will sit you down somewhere comfortable, get you a glass of water, and stay by your side for however long it takes you to get out words again

and even if you haven’t spoken after a while, he’ll eventually figure it might help to also get you a pen and paper, in case writing down your thoughts is something that’s possible for you in that moment

Mingi:

he isn’t looking at you as you’re talking to each other, facing away from you and having most of his attention on his phone - or so you think

because when he brings up something that causes you to shut down and become unable to talk, it takes him mere seconds to realize something’s off

turns his head to find you staring at him, completely frozen up and struggling with all the words circulating in your head that just won’t come out

instead you begin tearing up because you hate that this had to happen now and at the same time you feel guilty about it

you watch as Mingi gets up slowly and approaches you

“Y/N…?” he quietly calls out to you, the worried expression on his face only causing you to feel worse

however, this guy isn’t stupid, and he’s seen this happen before

and although he didn’t understand what was going on the first time, he’s starting to get it now

“Can’t say it?” he assumes and you nod, still fighting your tears

“That’s okay… I’ll just stay here until you can.” 

stays beside you and eventually starts rambling about how he understands that sometimes words can be hard and it can happen

and just listening to his voice like this eventually helps you feel at ease, until eventually you manage to speak again, thanking him for being by your side

Wooyoung:

this guy here does not understand what a verbal shutdown means when you first explain it to him

“Huh? If you have something to say… just say it?”

he feels it's best to encourage you to get over whatever's stopping you so you could talk anyway - which is less than helpful to you, knowing it doesn't work like that

so when you lose your ability to speak when you're out with him and some friends upon him asking you just the wrong question, you get anxious about how he would react

however, as soon as he sees the panicked look on your face and realizes that you really can't say anything, even after he repeats his question, he begins to understand

excuses himself and you and then takes you away to a quiet place where you two can be alone

offers you a hug and when he sees you nod he holds you tight, not letting go of you until a quiet "thanks" slips from your lips

needless to be said, now that he's starting to get what's going on, he is very curious to know more about it, and how to best support you during a verbal shutdown

Jongho:

when you’re in the middle of an important conversation and you suddenly stop replying, his first reaction is confusion

he can feel himself getting frustrated with you, because you were talking about a topic he feels the pressing need to get answers to, but when your reaction to seeing the hint of anger on his face is to take a step back to get further away from him, it starts to dawn on him that your silence is probably not about him at all

calls out your name in an attempt to appease you, and when his expression softens, some of the tension leaves your shoulders

still, you can’t talk

so you stand there in silence for a while, with you unable to look at him, so what you don’t notice is that in his head he’s going through all the different ways to handle this situation, trying to figure out how to help you

in the end he simply pulls out his phone, opens the notes app, and holds it out to you

“Maybe you can type it out…?” he suggests, and when you realize that he’s not mad at you or disappointed, tears start welling up in your eyes

“Oh my…” 

offers you a hug with open arms, and when you close the distance between you to accept it and to bury your face in his chest, he makes sure to comfort you first and foremost as he pats your head and holds you close

[kaoskuantico]

I'll answer by parts:

she was reclaiming that space

That's a weird statement and you're just repeating what the writers said just because they said so. First of all, they didn't address Vi's trauma at all, and maybe it's just me but doing it with sex is a weird way of doing it.

jinx literally told her to

That felt OOC, even at her lowest point. As Vi said, Jinx saved Caitlyn's life despite her not willing to do the same. So Caitlyn thanked her by keeping Jinx in that ISOLATED cell? She said other people took her in before she got the chance to react. Okay, BUT I have two points about this.

Why didn't Caitlyn free her after the shock?

WHO took Jinx? In the battlefield it were only Cait and Ambessa's army, and the latter stayed with Ambessa to bury the dead. So...Who?

“it wasnt the time or place” ok so then what is the time or place?

Maybe...Not in Jinx's cell? Not right after Jinx told Vi she was going to "break the cycle"? Vi already knows or should know her sister is suicidal, in the first Act she saw it firsthand. And all this without having a proper conversation between Vi and Caitlyn, not even an apology for what happened in Act I, not for making her lose her father, permanently now. Cait was manipulated but she still played a crucial role in all of that.

Amanda said it herself, it was meaningful for Vi to free herself or her trauma related to being locked up both physically and mentally

The writers can say whatever they want, but as I said in another post (click), they can't do X in the show and say Z in interviews, that's just bad writing on their part. If they wanted to make Vi reclaim her trauma in that way, they should've dedicated time to it, not making up things AFTER the show ended. They lost the opportunity to show it.

yall just wanna take ANYTHING away from lesbians i swear

The only ships I like are wlw so this doesn't even apply to me. And for other personal reasons.

they barely got any screentime this season after the writers built up their relationship and arc SO MUCH in season 1 can we just have this one thing….

Whose fault is it? You said it yourself. They didn't develop their relationship properly. They fight, they suddenly are okay, they have another small fight and then suddenly have sex in her suicidal sister's cell.

even just IN the show stop blaming the characters for being horny in a weird place like their lives are MESSY and so is their relationship, they both went through hell especially vi, let them have this.

I still think it's weird. All I'm asking is have the same scene but in a bedroom??? After the war at least????? Just change the time and place and we're all good.

but it was so powerful how quickly Vi understood that Cait was on her side and supported her choices

Look, when Caitlyn pulled away the first time I thought "good, she's realizing Vi isn't in the right state of mind, they'll talk things through" and then Vi just says she doesn't fucking care.

Such a wasted opportunity to make them TALK and repair their relationship. Vi called her out once and all Cait said is "I know". Okay girl, we know you know, but that doesn't erase anything you and Ambessa did.

All of this can be summarized as "Amanda said it!", but if Amanda (and the other writers) failed to show it to the audience, that's their problem. They can't fix it with interviews.

can yall stop saying caitlyn came in the cell to f ck with vi like VI INITIATED IT😭 she was reclaiming that space she was finally letting herself be happy, like jinx literally told her to

“it wasnt the time or place” ok so then what is the time or place? their city is at war lmfao they just indulged in this for a very short time (the scene was only 2:28 btw.) and they deserved to, the place isnt as weird as yall make it to be, Amanda said it herself, it was meaningful for Vi to free herself or her trauma related to being locked up both physically and mentally

yall just wanna take ANYTHING away from lesbians i swear😭 they barely got any screentime this season after the writers built up their relationship and arc SO MUCH in season 1 can we just have this one thing…. even just IN the show stop blaming the characters for being horny in a weird place like their lives are MESSY and so is their relationship, they both went through hell especially vi, let them have this.

that being said i still do believe the scene would’ve carried a little more weight even with a few more lines of them talking about it all, or even caitlyn just saying “you didn’t lose me” before rizzing her up lol but it was so powerful how quickly Vi understood that Cait was on her side and supported her choices

[latibvles]

TO SOMEDAY TOUCH THE CLOUDS.

long-awaited — a proper introduction to some girls on the ground with the prompt " waiting " for week three :) on that note: meet sandy, isabel, and katherine ♡ a special thanks to @saturnwisteria for letting me drop a little Yeva cameo into the mix :)

TAGLIST: @sparkedupsilver , @derry-rain , @elysian-crow , @archival-hogwash , @cetaitlaverite , @pastexistence , @saturnwisteria | message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

—

From now until the end of this thing, days at Thorpe Abbotts will both start and end in the dark. There's a flashlight in her eyes as opposed to the morning sun, and a "They're flyin' today! Up and at 'em Swanson!" that has Sandy groaning and twisting in her scratchy sheets like a contortionist.

"Get offa me," is her complaint of choice, swearing under her breath with hands swatting in the dark — even if the people around her are buzzing with excitability. Mutterings about the girls going up fill her morning, and Sandy scoffs a little. Girls, like they're running around in school skirts and Mary-Janes looking for dance dates. The women that came from the States aren't old enough to be her mother, but a good chunk of them have years on herself — the pilots certainly do. She's pretty sure at least two of them are about the same age as the Air Exec, even if he likes to act like he's not a day over twenty-one.

And they aren't calling Major Egan a "boy."

It all starts out on the hardstands, running last-minute safety checks and refueling while the crews eat breakfast and get debriefed. She doesn't get to know where they're going or when they'll come back — just that they are going, and they will come back — but she's seen enough accidents to know they might not. Stupid things, like not slowing down enough on the landing, or hitting the runway at just the wrong angle.

If Sandy's being completely honest: she doesn't want to know. It gives her one less thing to worry about, so she doesn't plan to ever ask.

"They're real pretty," Wendy Malone notes from her spot leaned up against the refuel truck as they finish topping off Mouse Hole. "No wonder they put that red-headed one on a magazine cover. What'd you think?"

Sandy looks over from her spot, topping off the last of the bird's feeder tanks and raising a brow.

"Just need 'em to fly straight and keep my job easy. Paddlefoot's already got a buncha scratches on it and they ain't even seen combat yet."

"Oh yeah," Wendy snorts as they go through the motions of loading the hose back into the refuel truck. "Heard that they've been pretty tight-lipped to on how they got them too. At least that's what Admunsen says."

"Probably did somethin' stupid." Sandy shrugs, patting the side of the refuel truck and giving Wendy a nod as the other girl hops into the driver's seat. She makes her way around to the passenger's side, stalls as the first of the crews start making their way onto the tarmac. She recognizes one of them, vaguely, and tosses Yeva Rosova a mock salute and a lopsided smile from her spot hanging off the passenger door.

"Apple Atcha's all topped off for ya. Even went over the paint job a couple a' times last night. Try to keep 'er in one piece for me, y'hear?" She directs her question more to Yeva than the other girls — trying to discern who's who means squinting at their wings and she doesn't have the time for it. She prefers flight engineers to pilots, anyway.

Yeva regards her with a nod and a wave that shifts into a thumbs up from a leather-clad hand, and Sandy feels equal parts satisfied and envious, the former resulting in her tossing Yeva a smile and the latter making her stomach twist in a way she doesn't like.

If she'd finished school, maybe. Or if she'd been born earlier, she'd be among them and not bidding them goodbye.

She knows her work is important all the same, but she can't help that weird tug at her chest that watching the contrails during training always bring out. Everyone dreams about touching the clouds, she rationalizes, shaking her head slightly to dismiss the thought as she throws herself into the seat and Wendy wastes no time in driving off to return the fuel truck to its proper place.

When they come back, there will be holes in their fuselages, and leaks in the fuel tanks, and all plethora of things for her and her crew to tackle and fix. She's already going through the mental procedures in her head — everything she's seen at home, and learned in training, because if she thinks about that then she doesn't really have time to focus on things like pride or envy or the way her stomach twists as they breeze by another deuce-and-a-half packed with airmen.

Sandy wonders if this will be a long ride or a short trip, but doesn't ask Major Bowman when the planes take off.

—

Tatty gets her up before anyone else.

Isabel knows it's because she's the quickest to rise, and they'll get everyone else up faster that way. There's an order to these things. Tatty, and then herself, and then Helen, so on and so forth, rising and putting themselves together in the dark — the men never knowing anything but pin curls and blue uniforms and then their skirts and shoes in the evening. She likes the early rise. It gives her time to pray the rosary undisturbed like her mother taught her, with her cross and Saint Macrina entangled between her fingers.

It reminds her vaguely, of early mornings in Los Angeles, of slinking into the kitchen with Enrique on her heels to put together a halfway decent breakfast for their siblings, but not before kneeling at their home altar to thank the Virgen de Guadalupe for just about everything.

She likes being the first one in the truck, getting started with the oil and coffee urns while Kitty rubs the sleep out of her eyes — likes the specificity of it, of having everything done just right and tackling the problems preemptively like stoves that won't light or oil that wouldn't otherwise heat up quick enough.

She likes the way dawn crests over Thorpe Abbotts too, when they pop open the windows to the truck and let the sunshine of late spring and early summer trickle in. The air is cool, because while it can get hot in the afternoon, it's nothing like Los Angeles.

The faces they await are new — kind of.

New in the way that she hasn't learned names yet, and neither has Tatty, who leans on the counter next to her. Kitty's better about names and faces, but Katherine Price of Massa-'Ginia-South-Carolina has been going to reunions since she was six or seven with her parents and learning the names of all the guys her dad served with the first time they did all of this.

That one didn't have donuts though, she commented sagely, once, on the ride back to the mansion the Red Cross had them staying at. An oversight by Uncle Sam if you ask me.

"Gonna wish us good luck, ladies?" One of them, a blue-eyed and dark-haired man with a heavy accent that is somewhere Eastern, but definitely not Massachusetts, looks up at them and tips his crusher cap.

"Not like you'll need it," Isabel hums, tossing him a smile and passing in a donut from her perch. He smiles and winks. Rinse, repeat — she'll utter a little prayer when she can see their planes starting to climb up into the sky, and it'll be out of her hands after that.

Capacity of care — say a prayer, let God handle the rest, she's been quantifying how much she can take on since she was fourteen. She likes to think it makes her better at all of this, letting the burden of worry and grief wash off her with the English rain. She doesn't have much time for it, none of them do, but caring is apart of the job.

It's a delicate balance. Sometimes being apart of the Red Cross feels like being a plate spinner for Barnum & Bailey.

Isabel reaches for Tatty's cigarette and plucks it without a fight, taking a drag and passing it back with smoke spills from her lips. The boys will load into trucks and at least for this first time, the donuts and coffee waiting for them when they come back might be a pleasant surprise for some. Only after that, will it become a steady routine.

"How long d'you think it'll be?" Isabel doesn't really know why she asks that, chalks it up to curiosity as she watches the last of them make their way to the trucks that will take them out to the hardstands — boyish faces looking silly to her in their crusher caps. Some of these "airmen" don't even look much older than her brother, but she's seen enough of them come back a little more hardened than before, their eyes a little darker than what they are in the morning.

Tatty lightly taps at her cigarette, lets the ash flutter to the gravel road beneath the truck.

"Dunno," she supplies with a slight purse of her lips. "Seven hours, maybe?" Isabel snorts a little at the shot-in-the-dark answer.

"Lucky number seven," she hums, straightening out. "You let me know when and Helen and I can start taking coffee out to the crews." Tatty nods, still a little quiet, a little pensive as she always is on mission days.

Isabel can't fault her for that — everybody's got their own balance to keep. She wonders if any of the other girls have started learning names yet.

—

Kitty's always been pretty good at this part of the job.

Not everyone is fit for waiting — to be enveloped in the quiet that follows when over a hundred men take off towards a target. She knows that the ones left behind certainly aren't. On her way back to the truck she'd heard two of them in a quiet exchange muttering about being bench-warmers — a position they're ill-fitted for, after months of training to be in the air.

It's a good chunk of the reason why Kitty didn't become a pilot, or do something more ambitious like the infantry when that opened up to her, too. Of course, the girls down at the launders argued against it, citing that she should just talk to her dad, see if he can't get her slotted somewhere sunny with gold gleaming bars on her collar, typing reports for Major West-Point-And-Very-Important.

Glamorous, sure, but not exactly what Kitty is searching for.

This, for all of its perceived simplicity, is more her speed. She likes the men she serves, likes knowing their names and hearing their stories at the Aero Club. She knows what she has is a gift — an ability to make somebody smile on their worst day. And there are a lot of worst days for airmen, or any kind of soldier.

She's known that since she was nine, when she couldn't wriggle into her parents' bed because the nightmares took a strong grip on her dad and just wouldn't let him go. And in the morning, when she smiled at him and watched that exhausted melt on his face like the first dirty top-layer of New England snow.

Kitty shifts her gaze towards the sky as she breaks off a piece of a too-cold-for-the-boys donut from the morning, pops a piece into her mouth to satiate her growling stomach. She'd skipped out on breakfast, alight with nervous energy that made Helen snicker from their spot in the back of the truck. This is the very first mission for the new boys who came to really take over the place — girls too, she has to remind herself, because airwomen are about as rare as they are lovely, relatively unheard of at the other bases she's visited.

They're putting down roots here now, or so Tatty says; these are their boys and girls to look after and make smile.

Tatty will never call any of them theirs, but that's just the way she's always been. If they want to give her pieces of themselves: the names of their sisters, sweethearts, mothers and brothers, than they are as much her boys and girls as she is theirs. Their girl to have sit there and listen to them, their girl to wait for them to come home.

The siren goes off, it's low drone a familiar sound, even if the pitch tends to vary across places. Isabel pops her head out before she can cram the rest of her contraband-snack into her mouth.

"You gotta—" she stops, looks at the swell of Kitty's cheek, and Kitty watches her lips quiver in a smile.

"Aye wuzh hung'wy," She manages through the mouthful, swallowing it dry. Isabel just laughs a little breathlessly.

"I can tell. Hurry up n' come inside, yeah?" And Kitty nods, breaking apart the pieces in record time and mentally bracing herself for the part of the job where the waiting ends.

[scarletqueenx]

chapter eleven - danger zone

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean and you had dated for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for. You.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

series masterlist

You were in the middle of a nightmare while asleep in the Impala's back seats when the ringing of your phone woke you up. Although to Dean and Sam it looked like you were sleeping peacefully, the memories inside your head wouldn't leave you alone. And just as he had done the night from which all those bad dreams came, this time it was also your father who woke you up.

Henry had an idea.

It was an idea that solved one of your greatest fears. What if a demon possessed you? You didn't want to end up like Carter. You didn't want to hurt anyone.

But the solution your father was proposing also forced you to face another of your fears. A more common, mundane one. Stupid compared to the other. But still, you felt the anxiety run down your spine as you let an unknown man, full of tattoos, put one on you.

It had been pathetic, you thought. How you'd looked at Dean with teary eyes, pleading for him to hold your hand in an even more pathetic silence. You had a habit of playing tough. It was in the DNA of older siblings, you assumed all your life. You never asked for help for anything and Dean knew that. But he also knew the look you'd given him that night in the tattoo store. So accepting your silent plea, Dean intertwined his hand with yours as he gave you a small reassuring smile. His touch like a soothing to your pain and fears. You felt safe as that scary needle stabbed your skin multiple times to imprint that strange drawing on your back.

Dean and Sam were the next to get the same symbol tattooed, this time is their chest. Right on the side of their hearts. Both facing that situation with much more composure than you. Or than your little brother.

"But... tattoos hurt, don't they?" Peter shifted nervously next to Maddie as they walked into that tattoo store in San Francisco.

"It depends on where you put it." She replied. Peter nodded slightly as his head continued to race with thoughts.

"I just don't understand why we have to do this. My father said there are charms."

"He also said it's easy to get them taken away from you."

"Yeah, but... You didn't want to have anything to do with this world. Why would you let them put a mark on you that would remind you forever of what happened? About your mother, about the other night?" Peter asked, genuinely confused.

"I'm going to remember it anyway." Maddie shrugged. "At least this way I'll be safe."

"Even if they can't possess you they'll still be able to attack you, you know that, right?"

His words were like knives through her chest. Of course she knew that, but to think that tattoo would be the solution to all her problems made her feel somehow better. Even if it was only for a few days, hours, seconds.

"I know you're scared, but you don't have to be a jerk about it."

Peter immediately felt bad when he saw the pain in the her eyes. He had seen that look before in other people. Every friend he ever had would end up walking away from him with that same look in their eyes. Peter was his own self-destruct button. You were the only one who had never left his side despite how badly he sometimes treated you.

But for the first time, Peter didn't want to lose a friend that way either. So he reached out to Maddie and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.

Surprised by the gesture, Maddie turned to him, seeing the look of regret in his eyes. She quickly gave him a reassuring smile, tightening her grip on his hand to make sure he knew that everything was okay and she wouldn't leave his side.

Her hand remained clasped in his as the tattoo was being done. Because if there was one thing the three Holloway siblings had in common, it was their fear of needles.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Bela had a funny way of making the Winchesters' lives impossible. First she stole the Colt from them. Which left them without a weapon to kill demons if it weren't for the fact that they still had your knife. And then, just when they finally thought they had found her, she had exposed them to the police. To an agent especially determined to find them after they had committed illegal actions to solve two supernatural cases that were very difficult to explain to someone who had nothing to do with that world.

Now, Agent Henriksen wasn't looking for you for any reason, but being with two criminals like the Winchester brothers gave him the authority to arrest you as well.

He seemed very pleased watching them from outside the cell of that police station in Monument, Colorado.

"You know what I'm trying to decide?" Henriksen asked.

"I don't know. What? Whether Cialis will help you with your little condition?" Dean said sitting next to you.

"What to have for dinner tonight." He corrected. "Steak or lobster, what the hell, surf and turf." He smiled while Dean smirked cynically. "I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you two in chains..."

"You kinky son of a bitch. We don't swing that way."

"Now, that's funny."

"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 pointed out.

"You're right. Screwed up. I underestimated you." Henriksen admitted. "I didn't count on you being that smart but now I'm ready."

"Yeah, ready to lose us again?" Dean raised his eyebrows

"Ready like a court order to keep you in a Supermaximum prison in Nevada till trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell, so that between you and me... probably unconstitutional."

Sam and Dean looked at him in silence, realizing that Henriksen was in fact been serious.

You on the other hand felt strangely calm. Henriksen had nothing on you other than having found you with two criminals who had escaped from a prison. Meaning, you could lie and say you had been kidnapped, although that didn't make much sense given the close relationship you seemed to have with the Winchester brothers. Stockholm Syndrome, you could plead. If they set you free you could look for a way to free Dean and Sam. Though that didn't seem very possible if they were put in such a secure prison as Henriksen was describing.

"How's that for ready?" Dean remained silent at his question. As he also tried not to show any expression of fear or defeat. "Take a good look at Sam – you two will never see each other again."

Sam and Dean stayed silence as they looked at Henriksen, disconcerted.

"Now, you." Henriksen turned to you. His eyes scanning you, looking for anything that would confirm that you were just as guilty as them. "What are you, the smart girl hacking and helping from the outside, huh? You got them out of that bank and that jail, didn't you?"

Letting out a sigh, you shifted in your seat, raising your gaze to him.

"I'm sure you'd love for my answer to be yes, but you're wrong. I barely know them." You said in a calm tone.

"Oh, is that so?" He raised his eyebrows skeptically. You nodded. "Well, that may be true, but it doesn't erase your past. Tell me, does this sound familiar?" He questioned, pulling a page of an old newspaper from the inside pocket of his suit. " 'On the night of May 2, 1994 Carter Holloway woke up and inexplicably began attacking and chasing his entire family around the house in what could be described as a scene from a horror movie. Laurel Holloway, his mother, was found dead in the kitchen with several stab wounds. His sister, the middle child of the couple, was found with her baby brother Peter. She was bleeding while holding the child in her arms after her brother had removed her spleen with the same knife used to stab her mother. While the father, Henry Holloway, was found in the backyard of the house, unconscious'."

Noticing the confused and doubt-filled looks from Sam and Dean, you shifted nervously in you seat. Which only confirmed to Henriksen that he was in fact right.

"There was no sign of Carter. Still to this day they hadn't found him." Henriksen continued speaking. "A lot of us cops are obsessed with this case. Why would a kid everyone described as kind and good do something like this? To the little sister that he protected and cared for so much. He had to be a psychopath who just snapped, god knows why. Maybe it runs in the family. What do you say? Was it all a plot? Did you all want your mother dead? Because if not I don't understand why your father has made sure over the years that no one remembers that tragic night."

Dean watched you closely. Noticing how you clenched your fists in frustration, how your muscles tensed and the red color of anger rose in your cheeks.

So before you snapped, Dean interrupted Henriksen's interrogation, drawing his attention back to him.

"You got the wrong guys."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You fight monsters." Henriksen nodded. "What? Are you going to tell me that her brother was also a monster?"

"Possessed by one." You corrected in a whisper, answering one of the many questions in Sam and Dean's heads.

"Possessed." Henriksen repeated in disbelief. "Sorry, guys. I think the truth is, your daddies brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place. That's all. That's reality."

"Why don't you shut your mouth?" Dean complained, annoyed by the mention of his father.

"Well, guess what. Life sucks. Get a helmet. 'Cause everybody's got a sob story. But not everybody becomes a killer."

The sound of an approaching helicopter could be heard from outside at the same moment a shiver ran down your spine. It wasn't like the one you had felt at Mystery Spot, but it was just as disturbing.

"And now I have three less to worry about." Henriksen smiled before looking back at you. "That's right, sweetheart, three. Because thanks to you I have closed one of police's oldest cases." He looked down at his watch and tapped it. "It's surf and turf time." He laughed as he left the room.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Dean and Sam didn't ask any questions for the next several minutes. You didn't know what was worse, the silence with which they were treating the situation or the alternative of them uttering a million questions to you. It didn't matter much either, as soon the door to the cell room opened again. You were the first to look up towards it, watching as a man entered in the company of someone you immediately recognized.

"I can walk, thank you very much." The boy grumbled as the man pushed him towards the other cell. Letting out a snort his blue eyes met the confuse gaze of his little sister. A smirk peeking through his lips as he saw you locked in a cell. "Hi, Smarty."

Dean and Sam, who watched the scene in silence, looked over at you as they noticed how you uncomfortably shifted next to them.

"I'm Deputy Director Steven Groves." The policeman spoke, closing the cell where he had locked Carter. "This is a pleasure."

"Well, glad one of us feels that way." Dean was the one to respond.

"I've been waiting a long time for you two to come out of the woodwork." Steven said as he suddenly raised his gun and shot Dean in the left shoulder. Dean grunted as he fell back, while Sam jumped up and grappled with Steven through the bars.

You had barely processed your older brother's arrival when Steven fired several more shots into the cell. Thankfully missing you as Sam gripped his arm. Regaining control of your body and mind, you leaned toward the man across the bars of the cell, beginning to recite an exorcism in Latin. That caused Steven's head to whip from side to side.

"Sorry, I've gotta cut this short. It's gonna be a long night, fellas." The demon inside him spoke as he flashed his black eyes at them before leaving Steven's body.

"Yeah that sucks." Carter commented as they watched Steven's body hit the floor. "At least he's dead."

Sam, Dean and you turned your gazes towards him just as two officers walked into the room with Henriksen behind them. Seeing the gun in Sam's hand, the latter didn't hesitate and pointed his gun at him.

"All right, put the gun down!" One of the officers yelled.

"Wait. Okay. Wait." Sam pleated as he move to put the gun down.

"He shot him!"

"I didn't shoot him, okay. I didn't shoot anyone."

"He shot me!" Dean pointed to Steven's body as you reached his side with a concerned look in your eyes.

"Get on your knees, NOW!" Henriksen exclaimed.

"Okay, okay, okay. Don't shoot. Please. Look. Here. Here." Sam did as he was told and passed the gun through the bars. "Look. We didn't shoot him. Check the body. There's no blood. We did not kill him. Go ahead, check him."

With hesitation, one of the officers decided to listen to him, kneeling down and checking Steven's body.

"Vic, there's no bullet wound." He then said.

"He's probably been dead for months." Carter said, leaning against the bars of his cell.

"What did you do to him?" Henriksen turned towards him.

Carter raised his hands.

"We didn't do anything." Dean spoke gaining his attention back.

"Talk or I shoot." Henriksen threatened, now pointing his gun at him.

"Why? You won't believe us anyway." You noted. "He was possessed."

"Possessed? Right." Henriksen scoffed. "Fire up the chopper! We're taking them out of here now."

"Yeah! Do that!" You exclaimed, starting to get angry. Still, you tried to remain calm as you tried to check Dean's wound.

"Bill?" One of officers said over the walkie-talkie. But all he received in response was static for the other end. "Bill, are you there?"

As the other agents continued with their guns pointed at the four of you, the officer left the cell room after getting a nod from Henriksen.

"They're dead. I think they're all dead." His voice came over the walkie-talkie a few minutes later. Your eyes quickly met your older brother's. Carter had taken a step back into his cell, realizing what that meant. If one demon had found them, others had too. And that scared the hell out of him.

Suddenly, a loud crash came form outside.

"What the hell was that? Reidy? Reidy?!" Henriksen asked over his walkie-talkie but no one answered him. "What the hell was that? Come in? Reidy? Reidy?"

"We're all going to die." Sam, Dean and you were able to hear Carter's mumbling more clearly once Henriksen and the officers left. The oldest of the Holloway siblings was curled up in one of the corners of his cell, his hands on his head as he slightly rocked. "We're all going to die. He's going to make me kill you all. It's like May 2, 1994 all over again. May 2, 1994 all over again."

Pulling away from Dean, you gripped the bars of the cell and looked at your older brother in pain.

"Carter, listen to me. It's not May 1994, okay? No one is going to make you do anything."

"He's going to get inside me and he's going to finish what he started that night. He's going to kill you." Carter assured sharply as his gaze rose to meet your.

You gulped harshly at his words. You blinked several times and took a step back as you remembered the night your brother was speaking of.

As soon as your back bumped against Dean's chest, you seemed to snap back to reality. Quickly, you gave him a small reassuring smile and began to treat the bullet wound on his shoulder without another word. Sam narrowed his eyes, watching you and Carter silently.

Neither he nor Dean could help but notice that that date was also significant to them. May 2 was also the youngest Winchester's birthday.

"All right, don't be such a wuss." You chuckled when Dean grunted once again.

"What's the plan? Kill everyone in the station, bust you two out?" Henriksen walked back into the room.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean grunted,

"I'm talking about your psycho friends. I'm talking about a blood bath."

"Okay, I promise you—whoever's out there? is not here to help us."

"Look, you got to believe us. Everyone here is in terrible danger." Sam tried to make him understand.

"You think?" Henriksen looked back at him.

"We're all going to die. He's going to kill us all." Carter mumbled once again.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Henriksen asked, looking at him with confusion.

"What? Did you think my father put him in a mental institution just for fun? He's mentally ill and traumatized." You looked back at him.

"He shouldn't have killed your mother then." Henriksen scoffed. "Are you really defending him, after what he did to you?"

"He didn't do anything. I already told you. He was possessed." You rose back to your feet as Henriksen rolled his eyes. "Why don't you let us out of here so we can save your asses?"

"From what? You gonna say 'demons'?" Seeing that you remained silent, Henriksen snorted in frustration. "Don't you dare say 'demons'. Let me tell you something. You should be a lot more scared of me." He said before turning around and leaving.

Letting about a sigh, Sam sat next to his brother.

"How's the shoulder?" He asked.

"It's awesome." Dean answered, tossing the blood stained paper away. "I'll live. You know, if we get out of here alive. So, you got a plan?"

Sam shook his head as he checked Dean's exit wound on the back of his shoulder, which caused Dean to grimaced in pain.

Leaning against the bars of the cell, you watched your older brother with pity. You had never seen him like this. So traumatized and frightened. A part of you had always wanted to keep seeing him as the villain, but now you saw more clearly that he had just been another victim.

Then you saw her. From the corner of your eyes, you could see how the girl who clutched her rosary when Sam, Dean and you had enter the police station was now peeking around a corner, watching you from a distance.

"Hey." You spoke. Scared of being caught, the girl backed off. "Hey, uh, please. Please. We need your help. It's... it's Nancy. Nancy, right?" She kept quiet, but you were positive on your guess. "Nancy, my... my friend's been shot. He's... He's bleeding really bad. You think maybe you could get us a towel? Please? Just one clean towel? We're not the bad guys. I swear." You pleaded while Sam and Dean gave her a little smile.

Despite your efforts, Nancy kept looking scared, watching you for a few seconds before turning around and leaving.

"Nice try." Dean looked up at you.

Letting out a sigh, you sat down next to him. But then, as you turned around you saw Nancy approaching the cell with a clean towel in her hand.

"Thank you." Sam stood up as she carefully came closer. "It's okay." Sam held out his handcuffed hands.

With slow, careful movements Nancy put the towel inside the bars as Sam smiled at her. Slightly calmer, she smiled back at him. But then, suddenly, Sam grabbed Nancy's arm and dragged her against the bars.

"Let her go! Let her go!" One of the officers approached them with a rifle after hearing the girl's scream. Sam did as he was told and let go of Nancy. "You're okay, Nance?" The man asked, pointing the gun at Sam. She nodded as he looked back at Sam. "Try something again, get shot. And not in the arm."

"Okay." Sam nodded, watching them walk away.

"What the hell was that?" You hit Sam's arm in confusion.

Sam looked back at you, holding Nancy's rosary.

You sighed as Dean let out a soft chuckle. The rosary, even though it seemed useless, was your best weapon now that you knew there were demons around. And after yours had been taken away, stealing Nancy was your only option.

Sitting back down next to Dean to continue nursing his bullet wound, now with the help of that towel to stop the bleeding, you let out a deep breath.

Dean looked at you with concern.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just fine. It's not like we're locked up and threatened by demons. All while Henriksen exposed my family's biggest trauma and brought in my formerly possessed, murderous and traumatized older brother." You sighed.

"Well, at least you haven't been shot." Dean commented.

"I think the shot would hurt less." You admitted, shifting your gaze to Carter.

Dean nodded slightly, looking at him for a few seconds before turning his gaze back to you.

"So this is what you've been hiding, uh?" He asked.

"Yeah." You nodded, letting out a sigh.

"Salem?"

"My father had him locked up in a mental institution to protect him. I had the great idea to visit him after more than 10 years without seeing him." You explained.

Sam, who had been listening to your conversation, sat next to you.

"Why would a demon want to kill your mother? Your whole family?" He asked with confusion.

"She broke a deal." You explained. "My mother wasn't allowed to use her magic, which belonged to Ophelia, after they brought Christine back to life after the camp massacre."

"A bit macabre, don't you think?" Dean scoffed.

"What else did you expect from demons?" You pointed out.

"They wanted to punish me too." Carter spoke, gaining their attention. "They wanted to kill Peter, punish you and transform me into one of them."

"What?" You frowned at him.

"I still don't know why, but I heard him say that in my head." He said in a low tone as he looked down at the floor. "And now they are coming for us all."

"Did you heard him say that too?" You rose to your feet alarmed. Carter nodded. "When?"

"Right now."

"Wait, what? You have some kind of connection to the demon radio?" Dean looked at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, something like that." Carter nodded with an amused smile on his lips that could only be compared with Peter's. Their resemblance brought a warm sense of familiarity to you, calming your nerves and giving you exactly what you needed to trust him.

"They could be possessing anyone now. Anyone could just walk right in." Sam said.

"It's kind of wild, right?" Dean looked back at his brother. "I mean it's like they're coming for us. They've never done that before." Dean smiled. "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 lost his smile as soon as Sam looked at him, unamused.

You ignored their conversation, fixing your gaze on the man that had just entered the cell area. You quickly recognized him as the sheriff and thought he would ask you some questions. However, the man approached the cell where the three of you were locked up and opened it.

"Well, howdy, there, sheriff." Dean said, standing up.

"It's time to go, boys."

"Uh... you know what? We're – we're just comfy right here. But thank you." You took a step back with a little smile on your lips, trying to keep things smooth.

"What do you think you're doing?" Henriksen asked, appearing at the cell's door.

"We're not just gonna sit around here and wait to die. We're gonna make a run for it." The sheriff answered, looking back at him.

"It's safer here."

"There's a SWAT facility in Boulder."

"We're not going anywhere." Henriksen stated, coming inside the cell.

"The hell we're not." The Sheriff reached out to grab your arm, holding you tightly. But before he could do anything else Henriksen pulled out his gun and shot him in the head.

As soon as that happened, Dean and Sam grappled with Henriksen. As he tried to break free from their grip, you grabbed his head and plunged it into the toilet water. This water, now holy thanks to Nancy's rosary began to burn his skin as you said the exorcism.

Dean crouched down and grabbed Henriksen's gun to point it at the officer coming toward them with a rifle.

"Stay back!" Dean yelled at him.

The demon in Henriksen lifted his head up out of the water. Skin burning as he yelled. Replacing you, Sam shoved him back into the toilet bowl as you continued the exorcism.

"Hurry up!" Dean exclaimed as the demon lifted his head back again. His eyes completely black.

"It's too late. I already called them. They're already coming." He said before Sam shoved his head back into the water and you finished the exorcism.

Taking a step back, Henriksen screamed. Black smoke came out of his mouth, shooting up into the air vent in the ceiling.

"Is he... is he dead?" Nancy asked when she saw Henriksen's body fall to the floor. Before any of you could answer, Henriksen regained consciousness and coughed.

"Henriksen! Hey. Is that you in there?" Sam looked at him.

"I... I shot the sheriff." He mumbled as he got up to sit on the bed.

"But you didn't shoot the deputy." Dean joked with a smile and you and Sam glared at him in disbelief.

"Five minutes ago, I was fine, and then..."

"Let me guess." Carter spoke form his cell. "Some nasty black smoke jammed itself down your throat?"

Henriksen looked up at him and nodded.

"You were possessed." Sam said.

"Yeah, welcome to the club, buddy." Carter smirked.

"Possessed, like... possessed?" Henriksen looked up at Sam.

"I owe the biggest 'I told you so' ever." Dean said as he handed back his gun to him.

"Officer Amici." Henriksen stood up and addressed the other officer in the room. "Keys..." Officer Amici handed him the keys and he unlocked Sam, Dean and your chains. "All right, so how do we survive?"

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

"Are you seriously going to leave me in these handcuffs?" Carter complained, following your footsteps through the police station.

"I got you out of the cell, that's the best you're going to get. Stop complaining." You replied, walking past Henriksen and Officer Phil Amici, who were preparing their guns.

"Oh, great. So your boyfriend, his brother and you can fight demons, but you leave me defenseless."

Letting out a sigh, you stopped and turned around to look at him.

"Stay by my side. If they come in, I'll take off the cuffs. I promise."

Carter narrowed his eyes, watching you for a few seconds. He could sense the lack of trust in your eyes. He couldn't blame you, he didn't trust himself either, much less with that many demons after them.

"Fine." He sighed.

Carter stood still there in the middle of the hallway while you walked over to Dean to tend his wound now that you finally had a first aid kit. It was the sound of the spray paint Sam was using to draw devil traps on every door and window that snapped him out of his thoughts and made him continue his walk to catch up with you.

"Well, that's nice. It's not gonna do much good." Dean commented as he saw Phil and Henriksen enter the room with a lot of weapons.

"We got an arsenal here." Phil said.

"You don't poke a bear with BB gun. That's just gonna make them mad."

"What do you need?" Henriksen asked.

"Salt. Lots and lots of salt."

"Salt?" Phil frowned.

"What, is there an echo in here?" You snapped at him, making him roll his eyes.

"There's road salt in the storeroom." Nancy spoke up.

"Perfect. Perfect. We need salt at every window and every door." Dean said. Henriksen and Phil left the room to get the salt, walking past Carter, who was just walking in.

"How you holdin' up, Nancy?" You asked when she handed you the tape for Dean's bandage.

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

"That's a good way to look at it." Carter commented, receiving a warning look from his sister. "What? I used to tell Dad that I heard voices in my head and he ignored me completely until one day that voice took over my body and..."

"Okay. I get it." You cut him off, turning your attention back to Dean's wound, placing the last piece of tape over his bandage. "That should hold."

Dean looked back at you giving you a soft smile. "Thank you."

You nodded, stepping away from him as Phil came back in the room with some bags of salt.

"Hey, where's my car?" Dean asked him.

"Impound lot out back."

"Okay." He nodded, putting on his shirt.

"Wait. You're not going out there are you?"

"Yeah, I got to get something out of my trunk." He answered, walking out of the room.

"Wait, are you serious?" You followed him with concern under the watchful eye of your older brother.

"Our weapons are there." Dean pointed out. "Your knife is there. It's the only thing that can kill demons."

You sighed, knowing he was right. "Okay, but be careful."

"I always am."

As you rolled your eyes, you let out a sigh before getting up on your tiptoes to press your lips together in a kiss.

Taken aback by that gesture, Dean took a few seconds to react, but soon his hands found your cheeks, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. It was Carter's throat clearing behind you that forced you two to separate. Annoyed by the interruption, you turned around to look at him as Dean took that as an opportunity to leave and get the weapons.

"Sorry, sis." Carter said as you let out a frustrated sigh seeing Dean leaving the police station. "I thought you might want this back."

Seeing your mother's necklace in his hands, you walked over to him to grab it, but Carter took a quick step back.

"Take off the handcuffs."

"We've been over this. Not unless it is necessary." You responded.

"It will be." He assured. "You're forgetting my... how did Dean call it? Oh, yeah, demon radio connection."

As if he had summoned him, Dean walked back into the station much faster than you expected, interrupting your discussion.

"They're coming! Hurry." He exclaimed, running past you carrying a bunch of weapons and other things in his hands.

Black smoke hit the window near Nancy, making her scream as Sam, Dean, Carter and you ran to the main office area, where Henriksen was. Without wasting another second, you pulled the handcuff keys from your pants and released your brother while Dean tossed a gun to Sam.

The lights in the main room started to flicker, making the room much darker as Nancy clutched the cross she wore around her neck. Moments later, as Dean handed you your knife, dust rained down from the ceiling and the building shook.

"Everybody okay?" Sam asked when the black smoke in the windows disappeared and everything became quiet again.

"Define 'okay'." Henriksen answered.

"All right, everybody needs to put these on." Dean turned, giving each of them a protection charm from the ones Bobby had given Sam and him. "They'll keep you from being possessed. There you go."

"You'd think Dad would have known about this kind of stuff and given one to me." Carter commented when Dean handed one to him.

As if he had opened your eyes, you turned your head to him, looking at him carefully as you took in his words. He was right.

"What about you three?" Nancy asked with concern and confusion.

Dean and Sam tugged the collar of their shirts down to show the tattoo of the protection symbol that was printed on the left side of their chest. As you came back to reality, you turned around and moved your hair out of the way to reveal the tattoo on your upper back.

"Smart." Henriksen admitted. "How long you had those?"

"Not long enough." Sam sighed.

"Yeah, definitely, as soon as I get out of here I'm getting one of those. Can I take a picture of it?" Carter looked at you.

"I'll draw it for you." You replied, walking over to one of the desks. Carter smiled, following you.

"Thanks, Smarty. I love you."

"Whatever."

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

A few minutes had passed since the black smoke attack. The police station had been silent ever since and everyone had spread out around the place to cover more territory in case any of them came in.

You had decided to stay close to your brother, so at that moment you both found yourselves sitting on the floor of one of the hallways, right next to one of the entrances.

"You think Peter will like me?" Carter broke the silence between you.

"Sure, as long as he doesn't know what you did to mom." You replied with a snort. "Why do you even care? Do you really think dad will let you come back home?"

"With a tattoo like yours? Why wouldn't he?" Carter answered. "That will block the demons, right? They won't be able to possess me or get inside my head."

"I don't know." You shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. I don't know if I want to go back either." Carter admitted. "I just... Sometimes I like to think about Peter, you know? Imagine what he's like. Tell me, does he look anything like me?"

"He has your eyes. Blue as the sky."

"That's my boy." Carter smiled proudly. "Wait, don't tell me, he's blonde?"

You nodded. "And curly-haired, like dad."

"Of course he is." He sighed.

"He is like mom in so many ways." You recalled. "Too smart for his own good and full of witty ideas. He loves scary movies too."

"Of course he does, those are the best ones." Carter smiled.

"He's expanded your DVD collection, by the way."

Carter looked at you in surprise. "Dad didn't throw it away?"

You shook your head. "He told him it was Mom's."

"Well, either way. I'll probably never meet him, and if I do he'd probably hate me, but... I like knowing we have somethings in common."

You closed your eyes in frustration.

"Those demons robbed us of our childhood, of our family. Why? Why us?"

"I told you..."

"Yes, we're special. Or so they think. But... why?" You asked. "Because mom was a descendant of witches? That's Ophelia's fault to begin with."

Carter shook his head.

"I think there's more to it than that. When Dorian talked to dad the other night while he was in my body, he talked about a prophecy. He and Ophelia want to destroy God's creations."

"God's creations? Like the Heavens and the Earth?" You frowned.

"Yeah, I think so."

"That sounds like fiction."

"Sounds like an omen."

Before you could say anything there was a loud crash. Getting up to your feet, Carter and you ran into the office where Dean, Sam and Henriksen had just walked in.

"How do we kill her?" Henriksen asked pointing his rifle at the woman trapped inside a devil's trap.

"We don't." Sam answered, lowering Henriksen rifle when he recognized the woman.

Ruby.

"She's a demon." Henriksen pointed out.

"She's here to help us."

"Are you kidding?" Phil asked from around the corner, where he stood next to Nancy.

Dean and you sighed in exasperation.

"Are you gonna let me out?" Ruby asked.

"Yeah, right." Carter snorted before he watched as Sam scratched the devil's trap on the floor with his knife. "Wait, what the hell are you doing? Are you serious?"

"And they say chivalry's dead." Ruby spoke as she took a step out of the trap. "Does anyone have a breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here." She walked past everyone and into the main office. Dean, Carter, Henriksen and you followed her, while Sam stayed to fix the salt line and the trap.

"How many are out there?" Dean asked.

"30 at least." Ruby replied, looking back at him. "That's so far."

"Oh, good. 30. 30 hit men all gunning for us. Who sent them?" You asked. Ruby looked past you to Sam who now stood by the door with a guilty look on his face.

"You didn't tell them?" Ruby asked him. Dean and you shared a confused look.

"Tell us what?" You asked.

"There's a big new up and corner. Real pied piper." Ruby answered.

"Who is he?" Dean looked back at her.

"Not he. Her. Her name is Lilith."

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." Carter said, running a nervous hand through his hair as he sat down in a chair.

"I'm not. And she really, really wants yours and Sam's intestines on a stick. 'Cause she sees you both as competition." Ruby explained, looking back at Carter.

"Wait. What?" You frowned.

"You knew about this?" Dean asked his brother. However, Sam didn't answered. "Well, gee, Sam. Is there anything else we should know?!"

"How about the two of you talk about this later? We'll need the Colt." Ruby spoke, looking at the Winchester brothers. "Where's the Colt?"

"It got stolen." You answered for them.

"I'm sorry. I must have blood in my ear. I thought I just heard you say that you were stupid enough to let the Colt get grabbed out of your thick, clumsy, idiotic hands. Fantastic. This is just peachy..."

"Ruby..."

"Shut up." She snapped at Sam, raising her hand. "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."

"And that is?" Carter looked up at her.

"I know a spell." She answered, looking back at him. "It'll vaporize every 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?"

Feeling her eyes on him, Dean smirked. He actually looked quite pleased to be able to get rid of Ruby once and for all.

"Okay, what do we need to do?" Dean asked.

"Aww... you can't do anything. This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue."

"I got virtue."

"Surely not the kind she's talking about." Carter chuckled, standing up. "You're not a virgin."

"Nobody here is a virgin." Dean laughed. "Are you a virgin?"

"Because I have been locked up for almost half my life? Nice try, but no."

Ruby sighed looking at Nancy, who quickly looked away.

"No. No way. You're kidding me, r–. You're..."

"What? It's a choice, okay?" Nancy cut Dean off.

"So, y-you've never... Not even once? I mean not even – Wow."

"Can we not... judge people by their decisions?" You asked, coming to the girl's defense. "Thanks."

"So, this spell. What can I do?" Nancy smiled at Ruby, happy to be able to help.

"You can hold still... while I cut your heart out of your chest." Ruby smiled back at her.

"What?" Nancy lost her smile.

"Are you crazy?" You looked back at Ruby.

"I'm offering a solution."

"You're offering to kill somebody."

"And what do you think's gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?" She argued.

"We're gonna protect her. That's what." Henriksen said.

"Very noble." Ruby scoffed.

"Yeah, how exactly do you think you're going to fight those demons, huh?" Carter looked at Henriksen. "They're not as friendly as they look inside human bodies. They will kill you slowly and painfully. They will chase you and torment you and..."

"Would everybody please shut up?!" Nancy cut him off. Everybody looked at her with surprise. "All the people out there... will it save them?"

"It'll blow the demons out of their bodies. So if their bodies are okay... yeah." Ruby answered.

"I'll do it." Nancy stated after a few moments.

"You really don't have to." You said in a soft tone. "We can find another way."

"There's no other way." Ruby and Carter assured at the same time.

"We don't sacrifice people. We do that, we're no better than them." You looked back at them.

"We don't have a choice." Ruby said.

"Yeah, well, your choice is not a choice." Dean looked at her.

Seeing that Dean and you were completely against her idea, Ruby turned her eyes towards Sam looking for support. "Sam, you know I'm right."

Dean smiled, in the expectation that Sam will agree with you two.

"Sam?" He called his name, but Sam stayed quiet. "What the hell is going on? Sam, tell her."

"He doesn't want to disappoint you, but Sammy knows we're right." Carter said.

"You shut up!" Dean and you exclaimed at the same time.

"They're the only ones who can call me Sammy." Sam complained simultaneously, pointing to his brother and you.

"It's my decision." Nancy spoke.

"Damn straight, cherry pie." Ruby smirked.

"Stop! Stop! Nobody kill any virgins. Sam, I need to talk to you." Dean yelled, before walking off the main area with his brother.

"Do not touch her." You pointed toward Nancy before following the Winchester brothers into the hallway.

"Please tell me you're not actually considering this. We're talking about holding down a girl and cutting out her heart." Dean looked at his brother.

"And we're also talking about 30 people out there, Dean. Innocent people who are all gonna die, along with everyone in here." Sam argued.

"It doesn't mean that we throw away the rule book and stop acting like humans. I'm not gonna let that demon kill some nice, sweet, innocent girl, who hasn't even been laid. I mean, look, if that's how you win wars, then I don't want to win."

"Exactly. Ruby's plan is stupid." You said, gaining their attention. "And even if you guys agree, I won't let you touch Nancy."

"Then what? What do we do?" Sam asked with desperation.

You sighed as you turned away for a moment.

"I got a plan." You said after a couple of seconds. "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 asked.

"Open the doors, let them all in and we fight."

"And Ruby's idea is the stupid one?" Carter scoffed behind you. You rolled your eyes, turning towards him. "Come on, sis. You've gotta have something better than that.

"I do." You assured. "Remember how I got Dorian out of your body that night?"

"Oh, we're going to pull one of Mom's book plays?" Carter smirked. "Sounds cool. I like it, Smarty."

"You guys mind sharing that idea with the group?" Dean asked.

"Get ready. Carter and I will take care of it. Trust me." You pleaded, looking back at him.

Dean sighed, looking into your eyes for a few seconds.

"I trust you." He then said.

When Ruby heard your idea, she clearly didn't like it, so she decided to leave. Meanwhile, the rest of the group prepared to fight. Henriksen, Sam and Dean positioning themselves at different spots of the building.

"All set?" Dean asked.

"Yeah!" Sam answered form the main area.

"Ready!" Henriksen replied.

"Let's do this." Dean sighed before breaking the salt line in front of him.

Sam and Henriksen did the same. Breaking the salt lines and the devil's traps near them. A few seconds past before the demons started to get in. Pointing their guns filled with salt bullets at them, Sam, Dean and Henriksen shot.

"God, I hope this works." Henriksen muttered as he opened a flask full of holy water and splashed it on the demon near him.

Meanwhile Nancy and Phil were on the roof, watching as more demons ran into the building. When they saw them all go through the doors, they both went down and closed them, putting lines of salt on each one before doing the same thing in the windows.

Just as all the demons surrounded Dean, Sam and Henriksen, Carter activated the station's speakers and you began speaking into the microphone, pronouncing an exorcism. The demons stopped their movements and covered their ears.

You said the exorcism several times before the demons began to scream in pain leaving the bodies of their vessels in several shots of black smoke that soon disappeared into the night.

The bodies dropped to the ground and there was an explosion of light on the ceiling before everything went still.

Sam and Dean slid down the wall to the floor and looked at each other. Carter and you then emerged from the microphone room. You crouched down next to the Winchester brothers, looking worriedly at them as the electricity flickered back on. Henriksen walked into the office and chuckled slightly as he wiped blood from his lip.

"We need to start listening to you more, sweetheart." Dean smile at you. "That was a hell of an idea."

Letting out a small chuckle, you shared a relieved look with your older brother.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

You were surprised when Carter decided to join the three of you at the motel. You figured that after everything your brother would leave as quickly as possible, taking advantage of his freedom and his newfound knowledge of anti-possession symbols. Despite what he had done, Carter deserved to live his life away from the supernatural. But his big brother instinct, his need to protect his little sister, remained in him even if he wanted to deny it.

Henriksen had decided to give you up for dead and let you go free after saving his, Phil's and Nancy's lives. But since Carter had no money, Sam and Dean had booked him a separate room at the motel.

A knock on the door was what kept you from falling asleep after taking a shower.

"Turn on the news." Ruby said as she walked into the room when Dean opened the door.

Letting out a sigh, Sam did as she said, seeing that on TV the news reporter was talking about a fire that had occurred at the police station.

"The community is still reeling from the tragedy that happened just a few hours ago. Authorities believe a gas main ruptured, 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." As she was talking, pictures of them popped up on the screen. "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."

Guilt washed over you as Ruby turned off the television and looked at the three of you with an 'I-told-you-so' look.

"Must have happened right after we left." Sam assumed.

Having watched the news himself in his room, Carter walked through the door that separated their rooms. His eyes immediately searched for his sister.

"Considering the size of the blast..." Ruby started, tossing hex bags to each of you. "...smart money's on Lilith."

"What's in these?" Dean looked up at her.

"Something that'll protect you. Throw Lilith off your trail... for the time being, at least."

"Thanks." Sam said.

"Don't thank me. Lilith killed everyone. She slaughtered your precious little virgin, plus a half a dozen other people. So after your big speech about humanity and war, turns out your plan? was the one with the body count. Do you know how to run a 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." Ruby said before leaving the motel room.

Carter crouched down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. You sat silently, staring at the hex bag in your hands.

"It's my fault." You said, eyes full with tears.

"No, it's not. You tried to save them."

"And now they're all dead." You looked up at him, letting the tears fall form your eyes.

"Listen to me." Carter held your cheeks, making sure you were paying attention to him. "I know that now it feels like you killed them, but you didn't. That's what demons do, they play with our humanity, they take advantage of it and then they stab you in the back. I didn't kill Mom, just like you didn't kill Nancy, Phil and Victor. Dorian and Lilith did."

"He is right." Dean said, sitting down next to you, hugging you by the shoulders and pulling you close to his body. You buried your face in his chest and reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. Dean squeezed your hand softly.

"You guys keep on hunting, I'm going to make sure Ophelia and Dorian pay for what they did to us." Carter stated as he stood up. "I promise you, sis. I'll make it all up to you."

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @lmhf1 @mochminnie @helo1281917 @barnes70stark @slyregg

If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment

[iconoclast-infidels]

Death loves.

Samael would adore that sentiment. It was a most feared card in a tarot reading and yet it was hardly to be frightened of. It was one of the most misunderstood cards in the deck. The metaphor went well beyond the tarot.

Death loves.

Death saw now tears upon the young angel's face. He also understood not only by his word, but by his tone, and expression, Dmitry understood the gravity of what he was trying to say.

He stood.

One hand he had placed on Dmitry's shoulder and tapped it, a soft, pat of the shared moment and then it was gone.

The dying one seemed ready. He expressed it as so just before asking one more question while implying he had many more.

"And some questions are better left unanswered."

Maybe that was enough talking for today. This was Dmitry's time. Samael didn't need it. He wore his shroud and welcomed all into the open arms of Death with no judgement or again limit on where once crossing into his plane.

"Maybe someday." He agreed. Maybe someday they could turn the subject more around on him, but not today.

Then he tucked the hourglass under his cloak out sight. The crow cawed, flapped its wings, and then pulled its own cage door shut after settling in on its perch.

The less sand in the hourglass the faster the sand will fall.

Time was ticking faster even if Dmitry didn't realize it.

His time crossed over as a free spirit was running out.

A blackness would consume them. The surreal landscape would disappear in the swirl of his scythe, the wiping whirl of his cloak that would shroud them both, the sound of that raven behind them. The hoof beats of Samael's majestic horse in the distance grew closer. The breath of hot flaring nostrils would come right at them and then-

Nico was sleeping next to his husband. He was thoroughly exhausted and hadn't realized how quickly Dmitry would go or he'd have been up with caffeine and drinking Monsters if he had to. His long walk through the veil did him in. He was out like a rock holding a lifeless body that just took his last breaths.

Death and Dmitry would be standing over Nico and Dmitry's body.

Nico's face would start to look uncomfortable despite still sleeping. It wasn't the restful sleep it was a mere moment ago. Like a child having a nightmare he'd cringe. He'd toss. He'd turn all while gripping harder at his hold on the body, a natural inclination to never let go.

Samael would turn to look at Dmitry. Every death could be different, but this one would stand out as the first since their soul operation and contract. There behind the reaper would be a typical beam of heavenly light warm and inviting just begging to be followed. Dmitry had probably come across it before in as many times as he's died. However, this time there was a definite dark path that was destined for him. The light would slowly dim as if it was inferring no entrance. Not this time. Then it went out. Only the dark path remained.

"Go quickly. Faster you get there. Faster you return. "

He'd give one sure warning.

"If you don't cross, they'll come for you. Contracted souls never remain as ghosts."

Just in case Dmitry had any ideas of out running Hell.

They'll

Nico was asleep. Still alive. His biggest fear. Dmitry dying before he was a full-fledged demon below to take him in. He was asleep on the job.

"The sooner you fulfill the contract the sooner your body can regenerate. Trust the process."

Then Death stepped away closer to the dark path and held out his hand to Dmitry. He'd help Dmitry step in. Death was always there every step of the way until a soul made it to their destination.

Nico made a disconcerting noise. He gathered at the body like someone grasping at blankets in the winter cold in a dead sleep trying to keep warm.

With the Angel of Death down on his knee before him, Dmitry's attention was laser-focused on the conversation. Yes, it was raining. Yes, this was the realm of dreams and death. But nothing mattered; only the fact that Samael was speaking with a particular kind of seriousness and candor that Dmitry knew was unusual. He saw that dark shroud which covered Death. Somehow, he felt the sorrow associated with it, the pain Sammy was describing about having to leave Lilith— the love he must still have for her, because no one clarifies "I still respect her and I wouldn't change a thing" except a lover. Death was a lover; Dmitry understood this suddenly. Death loves.

Love was the reason Dmitry took those words so seriously. He took it all and pondered in his heart. The little angel tried not to cry, but it was not easy for one as readily moved by emotion as Dmitry was. He didn't hide it from Sammy either; there was no need. Tears rolled down his cheek undisturbed, accepted. He nodded. Sammy seemed to be saying both that it was normal to want to shield Nico from something as sorrowful as that first death, and that it might also be in Nico's first interest to share, and to offer that vulnerability.

But more than that, what Samael pointed out was the most important of all: it was Dmitry's duty to preserve Nico's free will. What Dmitry hadn't realized was that not telling Nico could, after all, go against that holy mission, that enshrined need of Dmitry's to protect the one thing that mattered. Yes, Dmitry loved, but Dmitry loved in a way that was selfless. He had Nico out of sheer luck, but just the same, if ever Nico decided he wanted nothing more to do with Dmitry, Dmitry loved in such a way as to be able to accept that, painful as it could be, and allow Nico to withdraw from him. Nico certainly loved him like that, too. This was the worship of his lover's free will, the altar of choices, the shrine of freedom.

Love does not corner and limit.

"Понимаю." With a single word —in Russian, because he had gotten lost in thought and it just came to him that way— he confirmed he understood. He saw what Samael meant. He saw the stakes, understood the risk to take, the price to pay, the devotion— the devotion.

His soul, angel soul, from God, was Nico's. When he signed that contract, he was in some way or other expressing readiness to be consumed by that devotion.

He belonged to Nico.

"I think I'm ready," he said softly, crouching so he was eye to eye with Death, "but there's still sand." He pointed at the hourglass, still running on its perfect time, though now with less sand on the top half than when the conversation began.

"I don't think I want to walk, I'm tired. Do you ever know how people are going to die before it happens? Or do you just... wait? I have a million questions, but there's not enough sand in the world to ask all of them. Maybe someday."

[celtrist]

Why does Vassago already have merch, we haven't even met him yet

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Of my 2% capacity to be attracted to anyone, my type is like 90% women, 5% pretty men and 5% men you would swear are super fucking manly, and never questioned being straight and cis, but are now suddenly *stressed* that they can't figure out why their attraction to me [fully socially interpreted as a woman and labelled that way up until relatively recently] feels incredibly fucking gay

[hella1975]

all hate to tiktok for taking 'having a space to more openly and actively talk about different cultures' to mean 'cultures are NOT to be shared and we must be vigilantly defensive of our cultures for fear of appropriation, a word that can be applied to any multicultural interaction'. like of course cultural appropriation is a very real problem but ive seen with the access to global multicultural conversation that tiktok provides it's made people TERRIFIED to even interact with cultures other than their own for fear of 'doing it wrong'. like at some point you have to acknowledge that in the real world of the great outdoors, the majority of people are eager to SHARE their cultures. yes there are ignorant questions and biases but also... how do you think those things get unlearnt? i dont understand how deciding that multiculturalism is an elephant in the room instead of a normal thing that should just be talked about and lived with is supposed to benefit anyone? and kids on tiktok are CONVINCED that it's a time bomb of a conversation to have and therefore must be avoided at all costs but like. people generally LOVE their home and their culture and are PROUD of it and want to share it. how have we made it so that showing genuine interest and a desire to understand something so integral to a person's identity is now feared and borderline demonised?

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

sitting in the parking lot thinking i might vom

[the-moogle-of-your-nightmares]

one thing i really deeply wish is that i'd had access as a kid to the plural community and information that are more easily available today, instead of my first experience with plural community which both took it seriously and was nonjudgmental having been 10's era tul/pa.info lmao

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[thorne1435]

Traditional romance and like..."love-at-first-sight" narratives are both weird to me. Like people will just...ask each other out? As complete strangers??? And that works for some people???

Don't get me wrong, I'm attracted to people at first sight, absolutely. I'm a slut to my core, 100%. But are people really out there not getting to know a prospective partner platonically first? How do you even know you like them??? Their fucking shoe size? You don't even know their shoe size! You've never spoken!

I really just think that no one should ever approach a relationship with the intent of making it romantic in the future. Always, always, always, try to be platonic first. If you vibe well, and you try to progress it to a romantic relationship and then they don't feel the same way? Guess what! You get to just fall back into that same platonic rhythm as before. It's a perfect safety net! There's no reason to cry or feel awkward like there would be if they had just outright rejected you and removed themselves from your life entirely because with this method, you get to keep the friends. If the premise for one or both of you was always "Will you date me?" the chances of you guys having a falling out if the advances are refused is exponentially larger.

Just. Don't fucking try. Don't worry about romance, you'll figure it out later, entirely by accident. Just make friends. You'll be happier.

[skrunksthatwunk]

household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight

[thoughtsofthegirlwiththecurl]

Working in publishing, my inbox is basically just:

Article on the Horrors of AI

Article on How AI Can Help Your Business

Article on How AI Has Peaked

Article on How AI Is Here to Stay Forever

Article on How AI Is a Silicon Valley Scam That Doesn't Live Up to the Promise and In Fact Can't Because They've Literally Run Out of Written Words to Train LLMs On

[apollo-zero-one]

Man I can't believe I had the chance to go to a performing arts school up through middle school and I fuckin quit after 6 months just because I got bullied. BRO YOUR HOMEWORK WAS POETRY!! YOU HAD TO PRACTICE DANCING TO COTTON EYE JOE AS YOUR BIG UNIT TEST. GYM CLASS HAD A CIRCUS UNIT!! YOU HAD A WHOLE DAILY CLASS ON IMPROV!!! YOU FOOL!! YOU ABSOLUTE IMBICILE!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN A YOUTUBER!!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ONE OF THOSE TWEENAGERS GETTING LOADED BY MAKING SHITTY YOUTUBE SHORTS IN 2008-14!! But noooOoooOOOoo little miss Noellie (who WANTED TO GO!! who worked SO HARD and sent in an application essay and did an INTERVIEW to get in!!) couldn't handle disruptive classmates or little scuffles and petty grudges and general Attitude of the other students and cried to mommy to put her back in public school. I am EATING MY HAIR over what Could Have Been. I COULD BE SOMEONE'S ANNOYING YOUTUBER!! I could be a DISGRACED DISNEY CHANNEL STAR!! I could be an America's Got Talent winner! A mild to moderately successful comedian! I could be making short films!! But no no no precious thin skinned baby me heard a few new cus words and watched a teacher get heckled and begged to give up The Dream in favor of?? Quiet math tests?? I am such a fucking quitter I quit everything the second it gets too hard I always take the out as soon as it's offered what's my fucking damage.....