#I think the original ‘story’ of the piece was that this was a photo cas took early into their relationship/being human for the second time

[plushypluto]

Redraw of an oldie/color study

[hawkland]

Art Masterpost: Solitudes

Story by: ilovehowyouletmefall (@angelinthefire) Art by: sidewidner (@hawkland)

It's October and that means it's @deancasbigbang season once again! This year makes for my third time around for the event, although this year I only managed to participate as an artist (I'm still in a bit of writer's burnout since the summer). But, that meant I could put all of my focus and time into doing these four pieces for @angelinthefire's wonderful story "Solitudes." I'm gonna talk a little bit about my ideas and process and share some progress pictures behind the cut in a way that might be kind of spoilery, so if you want, just go read the story now! And then you come back here later to find out more if you wish. All works were completed in watercolor with some digital effects and filtering after completion.

I was really drawn to the imagery of the architectural elements of where the story takes place (an abandoned brutalist mansion) vs. nature and decay...plus the way light and shadow seemed to play such important roles in the visual descriptions. Dean and Cas spend so much of the story separated by supernatural forces even when they are in the same room I wanted to focus on that as well: being so near yet so far apart, not quite connecting or even able to look at each other without barriers.

I started on the banner art right away, thinking of Dean in despair (for reasons in the story) and Cas yearning/wishing he could reach him. Behind them both is the concrete wall covered in mold and moss (which was a LOT of fun to paint). The actual final watercolor painting came out as so:

(This is one of my favorite Deans that I've painted. His face can be SO hard to get right!)

Working with angelinthefire's suggestions I ran some different digital filters on the photo to desaturate/emphasize the light and dark for the final banner, and then with that in mind tried to keep the other pieces in a similar color scheme and tonal range.

The atrium painting was the biggest challenge. I knew I wanted to do a piece to capture the feeling of the house, the light coming in from an open skylight falling on brambles growing out of an old fountain spot. I was thinking of the Roman villa ruins I've visited combined with some actual Brutalist/modern homes I looked up. My original drawing plan was a bit more complicated and simplifying/taking out some elements definitely makes it more creepy/mysterious looking and less like a funky modern home.

You can see the vanishing/perspective point is right where Dean is looking at Cas.

The light falling down from above was partially painted with some interference/shimmer watercolors, but I amplified it (along with the shadows) with some digital effects at the end. This was before doing any digital magic:

Dean reaching for Cas: I made myself so sad working on that piece! It was also quite the challenge to get the likeness right at that angle and do the lighting the way I wanted, so again I used some digital effects at the end to really intensify it. Painting before filters:

I think my favorite part of that one is how I dry-brushed the ash wings in one shot and they came out just how I wanted! My main reference was, heh, that old classic shot of unconscious Cas being poked with a stick. I used my own hand for Dean's reaching out to what he sees through the harsh angled light.

The final piece is a direct companion to the one above it, and one I'd been thinking about for weeks, trying to map it out mentally before tackling it. Dean's face can be so much more challenging for me to try to capture well compared to Cas's and I really wanted to get his shock and horror in that moment while also being able to show (the real) Cas in the background/shadows...this was the third drawing pass before I finally started painting it. There's only a light bit of filtering over the final piece to push Cas back in the shadows (I didn't want to do with the paints for fear of muddying the colors...plus I was already painting Cas so small any wrong brush stroke could shift his likeness/expression.)

Overall I really like how unified these pieces all ended up feeling and I hope they manage to complement the story in a way that it deserves!

[naruhearts]

I’m done keeping my composure.

Sorry, this will be a LOADED post! (And I’ll be repeating the points others have made)

for real, to everyone being nasty and telling heartbroken fans that “Dean was always supposed to die get a grip you’re just butthurt etcetera etcetera—” F you royally.

How dare you police the brutal feelings that’s been embroiling us since the Finale That Must Not Be Named aired. 

The show you think you all watched, the show you all believe was the same SPN from Season 1-4, changed at some point. Kripke wrote his original vision, put it to screen, saw it through in S5 as he intended, and closed the door on that era.

In 2008, Supernatural was adopted and inherited. As you know, there was a supreme paradigm shift post-Kripke era. The show FLOURISHED (we won’t talk about Gamble thanks). It evolved, transformed, grew beyond trauma-induced self-worthlessness and toxic masculinity and endless death and hegemonic social ideals and conservatism and repressive anti-revolutionary ideas. Castiel, the iconic favourite and beloved staple of the series portrayed by Misha Collins, was introduced in Season 4 as the core lead character, and he ushered in a brand new era of Christian mythos that SPN took advantage of. Longevity SKYROCKETED. Audiences were INTERESTED. SPN amassed an incredibly groundbreaking fanbase infused by non-nuclear principles. A massive subversive wave began, fighting the Status Quo of the times since 2008. It’s precisely why such an abysmal ending to a show of extensive Freud-Jungian metanarratively meta META complex stature and social POWER will render us totally and unbearably broken for years to come.

Point is, DEAN WINCHESTER NO LONGER WANTED TO DIE. HE WANTED TO LIVE. HE WANTED TO SIT ON THE BEACH, PLUNGE HIS TOES IN THE SAND, AND SIP UMBRELLA DRINKS WITH HIS BROTHER AND HIS BEST FRIEND. He said this in Season 13. And then, a season later, he told the ghost of his long-deceased father — the source of his deep-running trauma and the figure of self-reductive authoritarianism permeating his arc since Season 1 — after being questioned why he didn’t pursue the Nuclear Fam, that he already has his own: his brother Sam, his adopted child Jack, and Cas.

Dean’s best friend Cas. Oh god, Cas, who made his inevitably permanent mark on Dean’s soul beyond allyship. Castiel, renamed to Cas, God’s -iel removed by Dean. Dean, the human spark that lit the fire of pre-existing autonomy in the inherently rebellious angel who was, this entire time, the catalyst for free will in God The Writer’s puppet show. Their friendship set on goddamn fire. I can also write paragraph upon paragraph about my love for Cas while devastated tears stream down my face, but I digress—

Cas’ romantic love for Dean pushed our main Heart of SPN to love himself. Love is free will. Free will is also love. Of note, Cas’ love confession in 15x18 was supposed to offset something so vastly important and fundamental...to maybe (read: most likely) pull the trigger on SELF-TRUTHS in conjunction with free will. And The Great Anticipated Follow-Up to the episode penned by the passionate Berens should have included (read: seemed like it was going to be) Dean, closeted trauma survivor in love with his best friend, being given the opportunity to do it right: to SPEAK HIS TRUTH, and then that very singular opportunity was STOLEN so grossly. After poring over it for days, I refuse to believe we made their years-long story up out of thin air, spun it out of fantastical-delusional dream cotton candy, because we DIDN’T. IT WAS REAL.

As I said in another post: “I’ve just been feeling physically ill for the past >40 something hours with the terrible knowledge that 19/20 undid years of vital progression towards healthy interdependence, autonomy, and a positive endgame, where Sam, Dean and Cas close the ring of found family in final empowering self-fulfillment...where Dean, no longer repressed and set free, is able to use his words and speak his truth as a queercoded trauma survivor, henceforth confirming and self-affirming his own bisexuality since S1 by reciprocating — by telling Cas that he always loved him, too, loved him endlessly, which would have altogether divested Supernatural of its cult status and catapulted it into global worldwide significance as the longest running sci-fi genre show in American broadcasting history that actually dared to defy and, by proxy, empower LGBTQ2IA+ everywhere who found profound personal meaning in Destiel through VALIDATION,” — found themselves mirrored in Dean and Cas’ respective character journeys individually and as each other’s queer love interests.

THIS IS WHY DEAN WASN’T MEANT TO DIE.

THEY WERE SO ESSENTIAL, NOT JUST TO THE OVERARCHING STORY AND HEALTHY INTERPERSONAL THEMATICS OF MODERN SPN, BUT ALSO TO THE SOULS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE ACROSS THE WORLD WHO FOLLOWED THEIR JOURNEYS, HOPED FOR THEM, ASPIRED TO BE LIKE THEM, TREASURED THEM, WEEPED FOR THEM, AND FOUGHT FOR THEM, LIKE YOU AND ME.

Heck, how could anyone think Sam Winchester had a well-deserved characteristic ending? He didn’t. Dean’s brother was shafted so badly. He stopped hunting when seasons ago, he had canonically accepted that he no longer wanted an apple pie life. He simply...turned the lights off in a resoundingly empty bunker and left — abandoning his dead brother’s room — never to return (he did return later to get the Impala, family photos etc, I mean this symbolically)...as if — dare I say it — Supernatural itself eerily told us, in the negative-spaced pitch blackness, that the organic show and the wonderfully complex, matured characters we’ve grown to love weren’t going to survive or be revisited...that it was all going to perish, and that they no longer gave a single shit about their own show, which, to me, is the worst cardinal sin, because how dare they throw Team Free Will, an immovable and indomitable and passionate found family they built from the ground up, a found family CHOCK FULL TO THE BRIM OF LOVE AND LIFE RAGING AGAINST THE AUTHORITARIAN MACHINE IN ORDER TO ACHIEVE FREE WILL, under the bus no matter who is to blame. Growth was stomped on.

Then Sam married a faceless wife who wasn’t his textually established (and deaf) love interest Eileen, named his son Dean Jr., and grew old miserably, still mourning the passing of his older brother, shaken and sombre. Back to square one. IT WAS ALL ANTITHETICAL, even OUTSIDE a shipping context, and I ripped my hair out at this point in sheer disbelief.

This 15x20 ending would have fit somewhere between S4-7. Now? IT DOESN’T FIT. IT’S A JAGGED PUZZLE PIECE THAT DOESN’T BELONG ANYWHERE. IT’S THE FOREBODING UNKNOWN STRANGER IN ITS OWN LAND, BOTH LITERALLY AND FIGURATIVELY. This kind of ending was basically an illogical, unsound cluster of metastasized cells that, to me, ruined the viability of previous seasons to sustain bold praise and respect and dignity and rewatches and classic nostalgia in such insidious ways.

Dean Humanity Winchester and Cas, after everything they’ve been through, were silenced and lost in death, ripped apart from each other, unable to love each other the way they deserved, because of disappointing, vile incompetency and homophobia. The greatest love story ever told, again obliterated in less than 60 hollow minutes.

You know what this tells your audience, CW SPN? Death without self-growth is the way to go, and no one is allowed to forge their own path to freedom.

HOW INSULTINGLY HARMFUL IS THAT?

I don’t think I’ll ever stop grieving.

We all deserve answers.

[sarcastically-defensive17]

There’s going to be a part three to benefits right? Like I don’t think I can live without knowing the end of the story.

Conclusions? - C. Hood

Final part of the ‘Benefits?’ Series.

I had planned to release this when my hiatus ended but I have made y’all wait too long, and I was far too excited. This is my fav set of fics that I have done and I’m so glad that people liked them!

I hope you enjoy! Thank you all for reading, you have my love.

Xoxo - Cas

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Against her better judgement, Y/N had listened to Youngblood as an album on repeat for weeks after it dropped. The songs were powerful, perfect even. She had relished in the sound of their voices, the way they worked their instruments perfectly. She longed for her friends every time she listened, and the pain became addictive. Yet, she found comfort in ‘Moving Along’.

Things had been extra tense since her conversation with Calum. Another week had passed, and they were in another state, the men jumping around on stage, singing their hearts out, putting on a show for all of the people who came to see them.

But... Calum wasn’t himself. He shied away from the flashes of the camera. He still sounded perfect in all of the songs, yet he was dejected. Turned in on himself almost. Shy, hurt.

Per the fans requests, she snapped many shots of Calum, adding them to the plethora of shots of the other guys. She was paid to take photos, after all. She may as well earn her money, even if she struggled to look at Calum without feeling hot tears burn at her eyes.

Moving Along started and she smiled slightly. She especially enjoyed the song, moving her feet to the high energy chorus, ignoring the sting the lyrics left in her heart.

What she didn’t expect, was to turn to take another shot of Calum, and have his eyes staring straight at her.

His verse came, and he tore his eyes away from her faster than expected, and her photo turned blurry.

“Is it bad that I’m hoping that you’re broken? Is it bad that I’m wishing you’re so broken?” His voice broke, crackling as the words danced off of his tongue.

It was subtle, not noticeable to those who didn’t know Calum. Who didn’t know his little quirks, the little aspects of his being that alluded the general public. Y/N knew.

From her position at the front of the stage, she could even see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes, and the way he rubbed his face on his shoulder, disguising it as an adjustment of his ear piece.

It was the second last song of their set, the collaboration with the Chainsmokers being their last, and then Calum would be off stage.

Watching Calum sing the lyrics struck a chord inside of her. The first verse was full of such anger, but as it progressed, Luke’s verse portrayed sadness. Regret. Everything Calum had been trying to tell her the other day.

The feelings were overwhelming. She was furious. She knew that there was another song for Calum to write, having heard many parts of the other songs the guys were working on, but the pieces worked themselves together in her mind.

She had her speculations, but chose to divert her thought pattern. Every time she cast her eyes on him, she felt a ache in her stomach.

For so long, she had near constant emotion flooding her eyes. She couldn’t disregard her anger.

The songs moved quickly, and she climbed on stage to get photos of the group performance to close the pre-show. Andy had already agreed to take the pics for the Chainsmokers, knowing the tenseness of the past week for her. Y/N was looking forward to escaping to her hotel room and mulling over her thoughts.

For 5 days she had been contemplating whether or not she should stay on the tour. She had savings, enough to rent an apartment in another state. She could find photography work elsewhere.

But, she also couldn’t stand to be away from Calum again. There was a sense of hopefulness existing between them. She was far too scared to grace the topic again, and history had told her enough that Calum wouldn’t attempt to converse with her about it again, but still - she had hope that she would work up the courage to move past her anger and the sadness of her broken heart.

She was looking for a new excuse to forgive him every day, and she found them. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him. To tell him that she was sorry for leaving.

She couldn’t bring herself to apologise, when he pushed her away.

She worked up the courage and booked a flight. It was a week away. They had no concerts scheduled for the next two weeks, taking a small break in between states.

She had only told Andy, Alex and Drew about her news so far, knowing they would be the most relaxed. Her relationship with Drew had been near non-existent. She had been using him, but when Calum came back into her life, she could barely be in Drew’s arms without comparing them to Calum.

It was cruel of her to do so, so she made the shift to simply friends. Neither of them missed the benefits connection all too much, and their relationship was already friendly enough.

The days moved along faster than expected until she was three day’s out from leaving.

She had planned to break the news to everybody the next day, but she found that the hardest part was already done when a knock sounded on her door.

Calum was bleary eyed. It had been rare for him to be seen without blood vessels visible in his sclera, and he looked no less worse for wear now as he stood at her door.

She stood in shock when the opening revealed his figure. He looked heartbroken, the same as he did in Ashton’s hotel room a few weeks back.

She fought with herself not to embrace him.

“D’you mind if I come in?” His voice was small, making her heart feel smaller.

Her voice wouldn’t work, instead she moved her body aside to make way for his large frame. He was shrunken. His shoulders sagged slightly, his hands clasped together. A clear sign of his nervousness, to Y/N.

She could often read him like a book, and she could see that he was hurting.

She had been looking for a resolution before she left, and she couldn’t help but think that this could be it. Her stomach was vibrating from the force of butterfly wings, and she watched Calum sit carefully on the edge of her bed.

She watched how his eyes fell over the bed, settling on a familiar green blanket. He had gifted it to her a few years back, knowing she hated to use hotel linen. She adored the soft fabric, taking it everywhere when she was in unfamiliar dwellings.

She forced her eyes away from him, clearing her throat to kick her voice box into the right gear.

“What do you need-“

“You’re leaving.” He said, more of a statement than a question. Her eyes grew in size slightly. She had planned to tell them all the next day, so she couldn’t understand how he had come upon the information. “Andy is a big mouth. He can’t keep a secret to save his life. You should see how he acts when he has content that he can share. He’s as giddy as a kid on Christmas.”

He refused to meet her eyes.

“I was planning to tell you all tomorrow. My planes booked for a few days time.” She hadn’t realised that she had folded her arms, her right hand rubbing along her left elbow. “I didn’t want to leave without telling anybody. Without telling you...”

“Like you did last time?” The words were intended to be venomous, but the sniff that followed told her exactly how he was feelings.

However, her anger still flared, “You know why I did what I did.”

He nodded softly, pawing at his eyes gently, turning his head to look out the window of her room. The sun was setting, the horizon mesmerizing.

“When you first left, I was so angry.” His hands were wringing together again. “I started to hate you. I wanted you to be as broken as I was - as I am. But then...” he blinked, a tear slipping down his face as the light of golden hour washed over his sun kissed skin. “Then I wanted you back. I would get drunk, I would sit there with my phone in my hand and want to call you. I wanted to apologize every day that you were gone, but, I didn’t deserve you. Hell, I still don’t deserve you. I’m the one who said those horrible things to you.”

She stepped closer, watching the way his eyes locked on the scenery outside of her window. The picture in front of her was reminiscent of the night in Ashton’s room, except this time Calum is the one who can’t bear to look at her, for fear of breaking.

“I wanted to talk to you before I left.” She spoke honestly, brushing hair away from her eyes. No matter how hard she fought herself, she wouldn’t look away. Who knew when she would see him again, and she was falling in love with the lines of his face all over again. “I wanted to tell you why I was leaving, but... I don’t know, I was scared of telling you why I can’t stay, and finish discussing what we did that night. I couldn’t start the conversation. I guess I am now, because I can’t keep fighting with myself anymore.”

His brows furrowed, his head slowly turning towards her. “What do you mean, Y/N? What conversation?”

Surprising herself, Y/N felt the butterflies disperse. The man in front of her was Calum. Her Calum. Her best friend for years, the man who knew her inside and out. The man who broke her heart, and who pushed her away.

The pain she felt couldn’t be amplified any more. She knew she could live without Calum, but she also knew that every day would be a new kind of pain. She had decided in that moment that she couldn’t make their situation any worse than it was.

“I mean, I love you, Calum. I love you so much that being around you hurts me.” There were no tears, and her eyes were locked on his. The way his face contorted in pain, and the droplets that’s fell down his round cheeks broke her heart, but she couldn’t let her facade fall. She needed to get this out before she left. “What you said the other night, about loving me - I have wanted nothing more than to hear that for so long. But when I finally told you, you rejected me. You did more than that - you made fun of me.”

He was on his feet, face red, eyes bloodshot. “If I could take back every word I said that day, I would in a heartbeat.” His voice was cracking again, she could feel the emotion dripping from him. “Nothing hurts more than when you’re not around. Everyday since we met up again, I wake up and hope that I can do right by you but I know I can never take back what I did. The things I said to you... I hate what I did. I hate that I destroyed something so perfect. Somebody so perfect.”

She felt tears prick at her eyes once again. She wanted to fight it. She didn’t want to spend another night crying over Calum, but the tears weren’t for Calum. They were for the loss she felt. The way she sobbed at night when she wanted nothing more than his presence.

“Don’t, Cal.” She cleared her throat, stepped back. She was retreating in on herself. “Being here, with everyone, it hurts. I spent so long looking for you in somebody else, and now that you’re here, I can barely focus. Every day is like an old wound being reopened. I hear the words you said to me, remember how much it hurt. I just- I can’t be around it anymore,” her voice was a bit higher than a whisper. Neither of them dared to look at the other any longer.

“Moving Along is about you, Y/N,” He sobbed.

It was agony to see him so broken.

He had taken steps towards her and refused to pull her eyes from his face. She wanted to check for any semblance of a lie in his facade. She could read him like a book, and she needed to know his intentions before she chose her next words.

“I have loved you for as long as I have known you, Y/N. I love the way you know nothing about Star Wars, how you’re not afraid to speak your mind. I love you so much that I write countless songs about you. I cant even fucking sleep without thinking of you before. I can’t do anything without remembering the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you fucking do any little thing,” he sobbed again, breathing between his words. “I would do anything, if it means I could have you back in my arms. I would give up all I had, just to see you smile at me again, to tell me that you love me too.”

He walked up to her, hands on either side of her face, forehead against hers. Their heaving breath mixed together, and Y/N fought to keep her cries in.

“Please, Calum,” he felt her tears fall onto his hands. “You can’t want this.”

“I would give up everything, I would leave the band, the public eye, the fans for you. Y/N I would do anything you asked, just to prove to you how much I need you.” He opened his eyes, gauging her reaction. She had pulled back slightly to look into his eyes.

She knew it was a horrible decision, but she kept the thought in her mind that she couldn’t make things worse and she pressed her lips against his.

Their tears fell still, the kiss soft and sad. Calum held her face as if he would slip away if not for the feeling if her skin. Her fingers clung onto his shirt so tightly, afraid that he would push her away again.

He pulled away first, eyes still closed. “If you want to leave, then I don’t want to stand in your way. I just need you to know that I have loved you for so long, Y/N, and I will love you for the rest of my life. Nobody will ever mean as much to me as you do, even if you’re not with me.”

It was as if all of the pieces fell into place. She knew what she wanted, and she knew that they had the time to do it. Once again she reminded herself, what could go wrong?

“Come with me.” She stated, more than asked.

“Sweetheart, I can’t-“

“I’m going back home. There’s just over a week until the next show. Come with me, spend some time, just us. If things go well... I’ll one back.”

“And if they don’t? What happens if we can’t get back to us?” He looked hopeful but the fear was hiding deep beneath his chocolate eyes. “I can’t lose you again, Y/N.”

She offered a small smile, raising her smaller hands to wipe the tears still on his cheeks. “Then I guess we will have to make things go well.”

~~~~~

Despite the comfort they shared in her hotel room, the first few days in L.A. were odd. Tense, but Y/N had never felt more at ease than she did in Calum’s house, her spirits hopeful and a smile on his face whenever his eyes fell on her.

By the fifth day, they were dreading returning to the tour. Y/N had decided that she would go back. They had already booked their flights to Chicago, their next stop.

For now, Y/N sat on Calum’s lounge, her eyes glued to the television as she finally allowed herself to watch Star Wars. They were on the third prequel, and Y/N was fighting back tears as she watched Anakin surrender to the dark side.

Calum was laying on his back, his head resting in Y/N’s lap, his gaze focused on her face.

He was following the curve of his nose, the slight swell of her lips as she unconsciously poured at the television. She was mesmerizing.

He couldn’t bring his eyes off of her. He knew that she was going back to the tour with him, but the thought of losing her again was terrifying. She was his oxygen, and he had spent almost a year struggling to breathe.

“If you keep starting at me, I’ll poke you in the eye. This movie is actually decent, stop distracting me.” She grumbled, pouting further when Obi-Wan and Anakin we’re battling.

“I can’t help it. I’ve missed you,” he said without thinking. The past few days had been about honestly, rekindling and catching up. He saw no reason to hold the truth back now.

His words elicited a smile from her, a slight blush peppering her cheeks. “Suck a dick, hood.”

He snorted, “But that’s your job.”

Her fingers were running through his hair absentmindedly; her heart beating fast. This was Calum. Her Calum. The same Calum that knew her inside and out, yet, he still made her nervous.

The last year has been a rollercoaster, but now, she loved him, and he knew, and he loved her as well. He was free from his fear, knowing that nobody else could amount to the woman that Y/N is.

“I love you,” she whispered, casting her eyes down on him. Her smile was small, adorable and it forced a grin to split across Calum’s face.

“I love you,” he answered. He pulled her hand from his head, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “What do you say to getting some Mexican food and binge watching Friday the 13th with your favourite guy tonight?”

She deadpanned, blinking at the tv screen. “How can I do that? Ashton isn’t in L.A.”

“Fine, no Mexican food for you,” Calum huffed, sitting up and crossing his arms in protest.

Y/N pouted, latching onto him like a koala and peppering kisses onto his cheeks. “Baby, I’m sorry! I need Mexican food!”

It was safe to say, Y/n got Mexican food that night.

Friends with benefits relationships are always the most dangerous. It is so easy to develop feelings, sharing such an intimate part of yourself with a person, both as a friend and a lover.

Sometimes things are rocky; but other times, the benefits outweigh the negatives.

Tag list: @starshonerose @mantlereid @another-lonely-heart @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @poetnstuff @snookiebrookie @oyesmendes

[letterboxd]

Noir Zealand Road Trip.

Breakout noir filmmaker James Ashcroft speaks to Letterboxd’s Indigenous editor Leo Koziol about his chilling new movie Coming Home in the Dark—and reveals how Blue Velvet, Straw Dogs and a bunch of cult New Zealand thrillers are all a part of his Life in Film.

“Many different types of feet walk across those lands, and the land in that sense is quite indifferent to who is on it. I like that duality. I like that sense of we’re never as safe as we would like to think.” —James Ashcroft

In his 1995 contribution to the British Film Institute’s Century of Cinema documentary series, Sam Neill described the unique sense of doom and darkness presented in films from Aotearoa New Zealand as the “Cinema of Unease”.

There couldn’t be a more appropriate addition to this canon than Māori filmmaker James Ashcroft’s startling debut Coming Home in the Dark, a brutal, atmospheric thriller about a family outing disrupted by an enigmatic madman who calls himself Mandrake, played in a revelatory performance by Canadian Kiwi actor Daniel Gillies (previously best known for CW vampire show The Originals, and as John Jameson in Spider-Man 2). Award-winning Māori actress Miriama McDowell is also in the small cast—her performance was explicitly singled out by Letterboxd in our Fantasia coverage.

Based on a short story by acclaimed New Zealand writer Owen Marshall, Ashcroft wrote the screenplay alongside longtime collaborator Eli Kent. It was a lean shoot, filmed over twenty days on a budget of just under US $1 million. The film is now in theaters, following its premiere at the Sundance Film Festival in January, where it made something of an impact.

Erik Thomson, Matthias Luafutu, Daniel Gillies and Miriama McDowell in a scene from ‘Coming Home in the Dark’.

Creasy007 described the film as “an exciting New Zealand thriller that grabs you tight and doesn’t let you go until the credits are rolling.” Jacob wrote: “One of the most punishingly brutal—both viscerally and emotionally—first viewings I’ve enjoyed in quite a while. Will probably follow James Ashcroft’s career to the gates of Hell after this one.”

Filmgoers weren’t the only ones impressed: Legendary Entertainment—the gargantuan production outfit behind the Dark Knight trilogy and Godzilla vs. Kong—promptly snapped up Ashcroft to direct their adaptation of Devolution, a high-concept novel by World War Z author Max Brooks about a small town facing a sasquatch invasion after a volcanic eruption. (“I find myself deep in Sasquatch mythology and learning a lot about volcanoes at the moment,” says the director, who is also writing the adaptation with Kent.)

Although Coming Home in the Dark marks his feature debut, Ashcroft has been working in the creative arts for many years as an actor and theater director, having previously run the Māori theater company Taki Rua. As he explains below, his film taps into notions of indigeneity in subtle, non-didactic ways. (Words in the Māori language are explained throughout the interview.)

Kia ora [hello] James. How did you come to be a filmmaker? James Ashcroft: I’ve always loved film. I worked in video stores from the age thirteen to 21. That’s the only other ‘real job’ I’ve ever had. I trained as an actor, and worked as an actor for a long time. So I had always been playing around with film. My first student allowance that I was given when I went to university, I bought a camera, I didn’t pay for my rent. I bought a little handheld Sony camera. We used to make short films with my flatmates and friends, so I’ve always been dabbling and wanting to move into that.

After being predominantly involved with theater, I sort of reached my ceiling of what I wanted to do there. It was time to make a commitment and move over into pursuing and creating a slate of scripts, and making that first feature step into the industry. My main creative collaborator is Eli Kent, who I’ve been working with for seven years now. We’re on our ninth script, I think.

But Coming Home in the Dark, that was our first feature. It was the fifth script we had written, and that was very much about [it] being the first cab off the rank; about being able to find a work that would fit into the budget level that we could reasonably expect from the New Zealand Film Commission. I also wanted to make sure that piece was showing off my strengths and interests—being a character-focused, actor-focused piece—and something that we could execute within those constraints and still deliver truthfully and authentically to the story that we wanted to tell and showcase the areas of interest that I have as a filmmaker, which have always been genre.

Do you see the film more as a horror or a thriller? We’ve never purported to be a horror. We think that the scenario is horrific, some of the events that happen are horrific, but this has always been a thriller for me and everyone involved. I think, sometimes, because of the premiere and the space that it was programmed in at Sundance, being in the Midnight section, there’s a sort of an association with horror or zany comedy. For us it’s more about, if anything, the psychological horror aspect of the story. 

It’s violent in places, obviously, but there’s very little violence actually committed on screen. It’s the suggestion. The more terrifying thing is what exists in the viewer’s mind [rather] than necessarily what you can show on screen. My job as a storyteller is to provoke something that you can then flesh out and embellish more in your own psyche and emotions. It’s a great space, the psychological thriller, because it can deal with the dramatic as well as some of those more heightened, visceral moments that horror also can touch on.

Director James Ashcroft. / Photo by Stan Alley

There’s a strong Māori cast in your film. Do you see yourself as a Māori filmmaker, or a filmmaker who is Maori? Well, I’m a Māori everything. I’m a father, I’m a husband, I’m a friend. Everything that I do goes back to my DNA and my whakapapa [lineage]. So that’s just how I view my identity and my world. In terms of categorizing it, I don’t put anything in front of who I am as a storyteller. I’m an actor, I’m a director. I follow the stories that sort of haunt me more than anything. They all have something to do with my experience and how I see the world through my identity and my life—past, present and hopefully future.

In terms of the cast, Matthias Luafutu [who plays Mandrake’s sidekick Tubs], he’s Samoan. Miriama McDowell [who plays Jill, the mother of the family] is Māori. I knew that this story, in the way that I wanted to tell it, was always going to feature Māori in some respect. Both the ‘couples’, I suppose you could say—Hoaggie [Erik Thomson] and Jill on one side and Tubs and Mandrake on the other—I knew one of each would be of a [different] culture. So I knew I wanted to mirror that.

Probably more than anything, I knew if I had to choose one role that was going to be played by a Māori actor, it was definitely going to be Jill, because for me, Jill’s the character that really is the emotional core and our conduit to the story. Her relationship with the audience, we have to be with her—a strong middle-class working mother who has a sort of a joy-ness at the beginning of the film and then goes through quite a number of different emotions and realizations as it goes along.

Those are sometimes the roles that Māori actors, I often feel, don’t get a look at usually. That’s normally a different kind of actor that gets those kinds of roles. And then obviously when Miriama McDowell auditions for you it’s just a no-brainer, because she can play absolutely anything and everything. I have a strong relationship with Miriama from drama-school days, so I knew how to work with her on that.

Once you put a stake in the ground with her, then we go, right, so this is a biracial family, and her sons are going to be Māori and that’s where the Paratene brothers, who are brothers in real life, came into the room, and we were really taken with them immediately. We threw out a lot of their scripted dialogue in the end because what we are casting is that fundamental essence and energy that exists between two real brothers that just speaks volumes more than any dialogue that Eli and I could write.

Matthias Luafutu as Tubs in ‘Coming Home in the Dark’.

What was your approach to the locations? [The area we shot in] is very barren and quite harsh. I spent a lot of time there in my youth, and I find them quite beautiful places. They are very different kinds of landscapes than you normally see in films from our country. We didn’t want to go down The Lord of the Rings route of images from the whenua [land] that are lush mountains and greens and blues, even though that’s what Owen Marshall had written.

I was very keen, along with Matt Henley, our cinematographer, to find that duality in the landscape as well, because the whole story is about that duality in terms of people, in terms of this world, and that grey space. So that’s why we chose to film in those areas.

Regarding the scene where Tubs sprinkles himself with water: including this Māori spiritual element in the film created quite a contrast. That character had partaken in something quite evil, yet still follows a mundane cultural tradition around death. What are your thoughts on that? Yeah. I’m not really interested in black-and-white characters of any kind. I want to find that grey space that allows them to live within more layers in the audience’s mind. So for me—and having family who have spent time in jail, or knowing people who have gone through systems like state-care institutions as well as moving on to prison—just because you have committed a crime or done something in one aspect of your life, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t room and there aren’t other aspects that inform your identity that you also carry.

It’s something that he’s adopted for whatever reasons to ground him in who he is. And they can sit side by side with being involved in some very horrendous actions, but also from Tubs’ perspective, these are actions which are committed in the name of survival. You start to get a sense Mandrake enjoys what he does rather than doing it for just a means to the end. So any moment that you can start to create a greater sense of duality in a person, I think that means that there’s an inner life to a world, to a character, that’s starting to be revealed. That’s an invitation for an audience to lean into that character.

Erik Thomson and Daniel Gillies in ‘Coming Home in the Dark’.

What is the film that made you want to get into filmmaking? The biggest influence on me is probably David Lynch’s Blue Velvet. I saw that when I was ten years old. A babysitter, my cousin, rented it. It’s not a film that a ten-year-old should see, by the way. I was in Lower Hutt, there in my aunty’s house, and it was very cold, and there’s a roaring fire going. My cousin and her boyfriend were sitting on a couch behind me, and they started making out. I sort of knew something was going on behind me and not to look. So I was stuck between that and Dennis Hopper huffing nitrous, and this very strange, strange world opening up before me on the television.

I’ve had a few moments like that in my life [where a] film, as well as the circumstance, sort of changed how I view the world. I think something died that day, but obviously something was born. You can see what Lynch did in those early works, especially Blue Velvet. You don’t have to go too far beneath the surface of suburbia or what looks normal and nice and welcoming to find that there’s a complete flip-side. There’s that duality to our world, which we like to think might be far away, but it’s actually closer than you think.

That speaks to Coming Home in the Dark and why that short story resonated with me the first time I read it. Even in the most beautiful, scenically attractive places in our land, many different types of feet walk across those lands, and the land in that sense is quite indifferent to who is on it. I like that duality. I like that sense of we’re never as safe as we would like to think. Blue Velvet holds a special place in my heart.

What other films did you have in mind when forming your approach to Coming Home in the Dark? Straw Dogs, the Peckinpah film. The original. Just because it plays in that grey space. Obviously times have changed, and you read the film in different ways now as you might have when it first came out. But that was a big influence because there was a moral ambiguity to that film; those lines of good and bad or black and white, they don’t apply anymore. It just becomes about what happens when people are put under extreme pressure and duress, and they abandon all sense of morals. The Offence by Sidney Lumet would be another one, very much drawn to that ’70s ilk of American and English filmmaking.

‘Coming Home in the Dark’ was filmed on location around the wider Wellington region of New Zealand.

Is there a New Zealand film that’s influenced you significantly? There’s a few. I remember watching The Lost Tribe when it was on TV. That really scared me. I just remember the sounds of it. Mr. Wrong was a great ghost story. That stuck with me for a long time. The Scarecrow. Once I discovered Patu! [Merata Mita’s landmark documentary about the protests against the apartheid-era South African rugby tour of New Zealand in 1981], that sort of blew everything out of the water, because that was actually my first induction and education that this was something that even occurred. I think I saw that when I was about eighteen. That this was something that occurred in our history and had ramifications that were other than just a rugby game.

And Utu, every time I watch that, it doesn’t lose its resonance. I get something new from it every time. It’s a great amalgamation of identity, culture, of genre, and again, plays in that grey space of accountability. Utu still has that power for me. It’s one of those films, when it’s playing, I’ll end up sitting down and just being glued to the screen.

It’s a timeless classic. I will admit that when I watched your film, The Scarecrow did immediately come to mind, as did Garth Maxwell’s Jack Be Nimble. Yeah. [Jack Be Nimble] was really frightening. Again, it was that clash of many different aspects. There was a psychosexual drama there. You’ve got this telekinetic mind control and that abuse and that hunkering down of an isolated family. There are plenty of New Zealand films that have explored a sort of similar territory. They’re all coming to me now.

Bad Blood has a great sense of atmosphere and photography and the use of soundscape to create that shocking sense of isolation and terror in these quick, fast, brutal moments, which then just sort of are left to ring in the air. But I love so much of New Zealand cinema, especially the stuff from the ’80s.

Kia ora [good luck], James. Kia ora.

Related content

Leo’s Letterboxd list of Aotearoa New Zealand Scary-As Movies Adapted from Literature

Dave’s Cinema of Unease list

A Brutal Stillness: Gregory’s list of patient, meditative genre films

Sailordanae’s list of Indigenous directors of the Americas

Follow Leo on Letterboxd

‘Coming Home in the Dark’ is available now in select US theaters and on VOD in the US and New Zealand. All photographs by Stan Alley / GoldFish Creative. Comments have been edited for length and clarity.

[royalnugget42]

SPN is ending

And here’s my take on how it will go down, based on the limited knowledge we have. Please be aware that these are not foolproof predictions. Title analysis can only get you so far, and some of the titles are vague enough that they could mean just about anything. Still I’d like to try my best to predict the narrative based on how I would go about it and based on the vague references.

I’ll go episode by episode, include as many details as I can reasonably add, and try to keep my Destiel shipping goggles off as much as possible. Buckle up.

14

First one is pretty easy. Episode 14, “Last Holiday” promises to be kind of literal, with a mysterious figure appearing and giving Jack, Sam, and Dean the holidays they missed out on. However, I was curious, since Supernatural has a habit of including obscure or not so obscure references in their titles, if there was any other thing we could correlate this to.

There is actually a movie called “Last Holiday” starting Queen Latifah, whose character is diagnosed with a terminal illness, which results in her making the decision to abandon her boring life and live like a millionaire in Europe.

The idea of the fight with Chuck being a “terminal illness” on the horizon could be why now is the best time for these guys to live it up.

This possible reference coupled with the ‘last’ seems to say that this episode will be a sort of final moment of levity before the endgame. Past this episode there be monsters, lads. I’d also like to point out that since it will be just Jack and the brothers if the promo photos are anything to go by, this will be a good time to get in some forgiveness and family bonding for our characters before things go downhill again.

Looking at promo photos for this episode again, I’m not sure where, but the episode may also carry some development for the plot. I’m not sure whether the photos of Cas, Amara, and Charlie were for this episode or another one (since they are not listed as cast members for the episode on IMDb), but we’ll be seeing all of them again soon it looks like, and I can’t wait for Cas and Jack to go on a hunt together again.

15

This episode will be the beginning of the descent. We’re standing on the edge and staring into the void, and we’re about to take the plunge. How do I know this?

“Gimme Shelter”, the title for this new episode, seems to have a literal meaning of the characters continuing to try to hide from God. However, as usual, the title is also a reference, this time to a song by The Rolling Stones. The lyrics to said song are nice and foreboding.

Oh, a storm is threat'ning

My very life today

If I don't get some shelter

Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Ooh, see the fire is sweepin'

Our very street today

Burns like a red coal carpet

Mad bull lost its way

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Rape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away (3X)

The floods is threat'ning

My very life today

Gimme, gimme shelter

Or I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away (4X)

I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away (5X)

Kiss away, kiss away

Cue nervous anticipation

This is definitely where things are going to really pick up plot wise. Most likely, more will be revealed about Billie’s Plan to Kill God TM. Although, the idea of Death herself leading the Winchesters to victory feels sketchy to me still. She is deliberately withholding all the details, and she’s doing it for a reason.

Something down the line is going to make the Winchesters angry with her, and she’s not going to tell them about it unless it’s absolutely necessary. I have a feeling what it is will get revealed in the next episode.

16

“Drag Me Away (From You)” has some very clear negative connotations, and on top of everything has a weird format. It could be based on the lyric from Africa by Toto, ‘it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you’, or a reference to the song “Drag Me Away” by Melissa Etheridge, whose lyrics mention angels, and are about resistance and perseverance, two defining characteristics of the Winchesters. However, I’d like to point out another correlation.

Like I said before, the title has a weird format. The only other episode of Supernatural with a similar title to this one is season 12 episode 12 “Stuck in the Middle (With You)”. That episode was about what seemed like a normal hunt, but was actually a mission for Mary by the British Men of Letters to get the Colt. In that episode, Cas came ridiculously close to dying a painful and slow death, which does not bode well for this episode if it’s correlated in any way.

If what I’m predicting for Billie’s plan is true, this episode will be where the viewers are clued in on the thing she won’t tell the Winchesters about. The brothers might not necessarily get clued in (like how they still hadn’t realized Mary’s involvement with the BMOL at the end of 12x12), but whatever Billie is withholding will have serious consequences.

For this episode, I predict that Cas will come absurdly close to death again, because I believe Billie’s plan involves him dying. Billie doesn’t consider Cas a member of TFW. Multiple times in the most recent episodes, she talks about how important Jack is, how important the Winchesters are, but never Cas, and it feels like a weird oversight.

“Ever since I got this new job, I stand witness to a much larger picture. You know what I see? You. And your brother. You’re important.” 13x05 “Advanced Thanatology”

“I told you Dean, you and your brother have work to do.” 15x12 “Galaxy Brain”

Surely Cas has a part to play, since he’s one of the main characters right? But Billie doesn’t trust Cas, as well she shouldn’t. Cas is a wildcard, an angel who doesn’t do as he’s told. He straight up stabbed her in the back, something that she was completely caught off guard by.

I could make an entire post about how Cas hasn’t played by the rules of the universe since season 4 episode 18 “The Monster at the End of This Book”, but I digress. The point is that this episode is probably going to shed some light on the true threat the team is facing. Which leads us into...

17-18

Here’s where things start to get muddy. The titles from this point on get vague, and without any solid information about the previous episodes, these could be headed anywhere.

“Unity” is the next episode, number 17, and that could mean a lot of things. In my proposed timeline it is after a supposed revelation about Billie’s plan, so maybe they feel more unified after learning it.

In Supernatural‘s usual story structure, though, it feels like this episode will probably be the buildup to what seems like the end of the villain, but will actually be the darkest hour.

The episode following right after this is titled “Despair” and I think that’s telling. Supernatural writers do this often, where the boys make a plan, and inevitably when they follow it something goes wrong. “Unity” is the plan being made and carried out, and “Despair” is either the episode where everything goes wrong, or the aftermath.

[EDIT: The title of episode 18 is actually “The Truth”, which I believe may still narratively serve the same purpose, but now I’m more convinced that this is where the Winchesters learn about Castiel’s deal and/or something that Billie has been keeping from them about the plan to kill God. Thank you to @kingofthecrossroads for the updated information.]

Before I go into detail about this two-episode arc, an obligatory

Warning: Shipping Ahead

To my eyes, “Unity” seems like the perfect place for Castiel’s arc to reach a breaking point. If I’m right, and this is the episode where everything seems to succeed, then what better time for The Empty to snatch Cas away from his happiness.

If I was a writer, and I was in fact planning on making Destiel canon, this is where I’d do it. It makes the most sense to have Dean and Cas finally realizing their love for each other be the catalyst for Cas “finally giving himself permission to be happy” especially if this episode also contains a false climax regarding the Chuck storyline. Cas has said multiple times that he’s “far from happy”, so there has to be something huge happen for Cas to get there. Not to mention, Cas would be a sort of vessel for the audience, simultaneously happier than we’ve ever been because we were finally right, and sadder than ever because Cas is gone.

“Despair” won’t just be despair that the plan failed. It could also be Dean’s despair at losing Cas, our despair at seeing our hopes for them dashed.

[EDIT: Again, the title will NOT be “Despair” it will be “The Truth”, but I still think it’s telling that Despair was a working title for long enough that it’s on the IMDb page, and if “The Truth” contains the truth about how Dean and Cas feel about each other, then this will still be a dark episode.]

Shipping over, let’s continue.

19

Now we come to another referential episode, “Inherit the Earth”. There’s really not enough information to have anything solid regarding the nitty gritty details, but we can take a look at what this title is most likely referencing. “Inherit the Earth” is just a tiny part of a common phrase. It’s used in media all the time, but we’re interested in the original source.

I’m not sure if the episode will contain references to all the pieces of this passage from the Bible, but “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” seems to build off of the last episode, “Despair”. Another translation for the word meek in this instance may have been “powerless”, and after the negative moments in the previous episode TFW would probably feel pretty powerless. Maybe, in the previous episodes, Jack failed and lost his powers again, and that’s what caused Despair, but now he will inherit the powers that God had, or inherit control of earth.

If the rest of the passage is to be taken into account here, there’s also the “poor in spirit” who will ascend to the “kingdom of heaven”, possibly a reference to Cas being depressed and fighting for Heaven to be maintained. “Those who mourn will be comforted”, and that may actually bode well for Sam and Dean, who constantly mourn for the friends they’ve lost. Maybe in this episode they’ll get some closure on that front, maybe with their friends trapped in Hell going to Heaven (Kevin). The next line after “inherit the earth” refers to “those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”, and if that isn’t Michael/Adam to a T...maybe this will be the episode we see him team up to fight God. I’m not sure who the last line might refer to other than Sam, if you have any ideas feel free to tell me.

And after all this, we have the big one.

20

“Carry On” is referring to “Carry On My Wayward Son” by Kansas, and I don’t have a clue what it will entail. If the previous episode goes well, then this will be a sort of epilogue, with a (hopefully) happy ending for TFW, maybe we see Eileen and Sam get together, some kind of family dinner with Jody and the girls to resolve that plot line, or potentially, if the writers plan on doing it, a scene confirming Destiel.

It’d be interesting if they showed the brothers going on a normal, run-of-the-mill hunting trip, like a simple salt-and-burn, or even a (different) woman in white. It would be a nice way to bookend the story, to end on a hunt, but instead of the brothers on their own, it’s the brothers with the help of everyone they’ve come to know and care about in their journey, all the lives they’ve touched.

If, however, the conflict is not resolved by the end of the previous episode, this could be the resolution and epilogue all rolled into one, though if it were me I would want as much time as possible to resolve any lingering character questions because, at the end of the day, Supernatural has survived because of the characters. They are what people stay for, what they watch for.

Reminder that all of this is speculation. I do not know what will happen, this is just how I think the story could progress based on what we know so far.

For better or for worse, at this point Supernatural will be over. Will they do a perfect job? Probably not. This is Supernatural, it’s not the most perfect show. However, I’m excited to see where the writers will go with it. They have their work cut out for them.

[EDITED]

[guylty]

I take it you have heard all the good news? UV is apparently in the can and will be shown in cinemas and on the BBC at an undisclosed point in the future. Personally, I am not sure whether the cinema is currently the best place for a filmed piece of theatre. And the BBC is regionally restricted. So neither option really feels particularly accessible to *me*. The only advantage of a BBC transmission is, that there might be fans with access who also have some other technical knowledge… *say no more*. Not to put a dampener onto things – I am thrilled that they have decided to film the play, preserve it for posterity, and that way give the public a (second) chance of seeing this particular interpretation of UV Richard Armitage strutting his stuff. But I am a little baffled that they are not thinking of any streaming options – *in this current situation that the world is in*. Is it because the recording was not organised through the theatre but through the producers? Because other theatres have proven that streamed plays are financially viable. Just a couple of days ago I watched the long-postponed play Three Kings with Andrew Scott in the Old Vic. It was so worth waiting for (after Scott had to cancel the original dates due to some minor but lengthy surgeries), and even though streaming does not even come close to the look and feel of sitting in a theatre, it was still a live performance. And it added some extra value in the sense that a filmed/streamed performance allows the cameras to come up so much closer than you would ever be able to see in a theatre. So it has its reason for being. (And in this case, Andrew Scott was of course absolutely stunning in a 1 hour monologue. A very Irish play, if you ask me, not just because the character is Irish and the actor speaks with his native Irish accent, but because the play was interwoven with moral themes of regret, forgiveness, guilt and love that struck me as particularly Catholic-Irish. The play was, of course, written specifically for Scott by his ex-partner, English actor/playwright Stephen Beresford.) Anyway, I am waffling on. Suffice to say I look forward to watching the play once again. If anything, it will finally provide a level playing field because frankly, it is getting a bit old, having to see the same people tweet their triumphant SD stories and selfies over and over.

Before we get to the round-up, though, I would like to welcome back my first love.

Well, hell-ooooh, Keanu!!! Where have you been all this time? 

My first thought was – Keanu Reeves, ca. 25 years after this photo shoot:

I know. Keanu really was gorgeous. And had some nice flaws that made him look even better, like that massive scar from a ruptured spleen.  Who would’ve thought that such a long middle-parting would come back in fashion? RA really rocks it, and while the thick mop wasn’t quite my cup of tea, I have to say I like this particular style. It looks really turn-of-the-century Russian to me, too, don’t ask me why. Something wild, romantic and full of pathos. I am wondering, though, whether the shrubbery and the hair were temporarily dyed? Looks very dark to me (although the Lo-Fi filter on Instagram tends to work wonders, too, right, Richard? 😉) Anyway, no complaint whatsoever. Perfect combo of early celebrity crush with current. I actually think that the #romanticherohair *needs* the shrubbery because otherwise that look on stubble would mass-destroy ovaries and curb birthrates for decades to come.

But I digress again. Finally, the round-up:

  In case you wanted to know which scent RA has got on his dressing room table, astrovian has the answer

Astrovian is dominating the Richard Armitage tag again, so here is a post with some moving images from MZ

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” – um, if Guy asked me that, I’d probably have to confess my undying attraction to him. Gif set by riepu10

And once again, with some bright smile Adam Price, riepu10 again

The ultimate #romanticherohair gif set, compiled by mezzmerizedbyrichard. I can only say, watch at your own peril!

Interesting quote by Richard on his face, illustrated by mezzmerizedbyrichard

Missgraciemae with an audio book review that many of us would probably agree with

LOL, I must try that. Suggestion by buildarocketboys

You know those Getty Images of Richard that turned up last week and that we didn’t particularly like? Well, just in case I am linking here to richardarmitagefanpage who have got the images in larger format (than my mass screenshot) Warning – they don’t get any better just because of larger format… if anything, they get worse

I bet you would love to see Guy of Gisborne taking a bath. Right? Here’s your chance, thanks to mininottingham

And some What a Guy Wants by nfcomics

This cartoon of Thorin really caused some visions of Mr Darcy in me

Sorry, this is grossly outdated (March 2020), but I had to laugh out loud at it. Posted by vengealis. Gives new meaning to the term “King under the Mountain”

Lucky number 13. I’ll go back to staring at Keanu Armitage now.

Have a lovely weekend, all!

Sonja ❤

  2020 Armitage Weekly Round-up #35 I take it you have heard all the good news? UV is apparently in the can and will be shown in cinemas and on the BBC at an undisclosed point in the future.

[heckyeahponyscans]

I’ve decided to copy & paste a translation of this article for posterity, since nothing lasts forever on the internet.

Keep in mind this was originally in Chinese and Google Translate . . . didn’t do the best job.  :P

“Large-scale ‘True Fragrance’ scene Hasbro cross-border and double chat”

On October 16, the 2019 CLE China Licensing Exhibition was grandly opened. It's another year when the well-known IP shows their fist and fights against each other. What are the weapons of "powder"? Let's take a look!

　　Some people may be wondering, Hasbro is not the favorite of children, how come there are so many fashionable and cool "big friends" products? You do n’t know, "Girls Heart" My little Pony, cool Transformers, the booming real estate tycoon and the super cute big-eyed girl BLYTHE rag dolls, these cute and charming and trendy IP images are not only children's exclusive products, but also every "White Moonlight" by a big friend.

　　As one of Hasbro's most popular women's brands, Pony Pony combines the "girl heart" and " fashion sense", especially the retro image of Pony Pony, which has been favored by young women with today's aesthetic trend. A series of cross-border derivative products have been launched continuously, capturing the "girl hearts" of batches of fashionable people.

　　The local tide brand TSMLXLT has developed a group of fantasy girls' adult women's clothing based on the retro image of Pony Pony in the 1980s. These "salt and sweet" autumn wears let you quickly become a sweet and cool girl.

　　Fairies in the "horse ring" should all know that TSMLXLT has created a Pony-themed marketing campaign this summer. Fairies who have been to the site have been crazy to call: What are you waiting for, buy it! The eye-catching theme window layout is simply Punching Holy Land, I heard that punching photos burst your circle of friends?

　It's no exaggeration when the internet celebrity Ma Baoli meets the internet celebrity "beautiful summer". The new autumn clothing launched by Pony Pony and "Xia Mei Xia Xia" is so beautiful that it bursts. Superb color matching, super dreamy visual effects, you must first start to be strong friends!

　

After reading these co-branded series of clothing, is your girl's heart overflowing? Don't worry, Pony Ma brings to the younger sister more than that.

　　At this year's Shanghai Fashion Week, the original bag brand WANACCESSORY also aimed at the sweet and fashionable little pony. Designer COKO WAN Wanmengyi blends the 80s retro image of Pony Pony with the newly developed double-sided cowhide, double-sided sequins, bright pink PVC, Symphony TPU, Symphony resin and other materials. You want the fashion you want. It feels like it's all there.

　If anyone in the fashion circle can compare with Pony Pony, it must be BLYTHE. BLYTHE is not only a beloved "baby circle", but also a darling of the fashion industry, many fashion big names are favored by her.

　　As a fashionista , you must not forget the romantic story created by Five Plus and BLYTHE. The dream-chasing girl performed by BLYTHE has gradually become a dream singer from an unknown name. When the dream shines into reality, BLYTHE has not stopped its fashionable footsteps. The stylish and sweet dressing match makes you easily become the focus of passers-by.

With the most in- apparel , how can you not match the trendy hair color? BLYTHE and Fesili's cooperation in hair care and hair coloring products allows you to have a popular red hair color and become a fashionable little fairy.

　　After reading so much, did the younger brothers start to doubt life and say that the good men and women are equal? ​​Don't worry, Yu Lujun has said it!

　　If you are a very trendy little brother, when you are busy punching the movie "Bumblebee", you must have noticed this group of Transformers joint series of the trendy brand INNERSECT founded by Edison Chen.

　　In this joint clothing series, the "Bumblebee" movie was used as the design inspiration, and the street culture of INNERSECT was combined with the nostalgic elements of Transformers. The bloody childhood memories of the little brothers were evoked at once.

After watching the movie and buying clothes, the little brother who returns home can also unlock the “transformation” as the Panasonic fingerprint lock “Bumblebee” single product, which brings convenience to smart life. The superhero guarding the earth can guard your daily life beside you. Surprised? Surprised?

The little brothers who pursue a personalized lifestyle must not miss the TSMLXLT x Monopoly co-branded Good Luck series. Booty put on your body, holding a real estate tycoon money counter, you are a rich boy with a gas field of 2 meters.

Such a fun and fun real estate tycoon grandpa and pop play brand POPMART bubble Matt hit it off, and together created the Molly version of the real estate tycoon series of board toys and dolls, which instantly ignited the collection enthusiasm of trendy men and women. This "pit" jumped willingly.

　　Here is another piece of good news to tell you! Those who want to fully experience the charm of the real estate tycoon game can also go to Hong Kong Taiping Mountain Peak Plaza to experience the immersive entertainment experience brought by the world's first real estate tycoon theme entertainment center . From sightseeing and entertainment to gaming experience to dining and shopping, a family entertainment center that contracts a family fun experience is bound to become a new punch card holy place.

Only you ca n’t think of it, you ca n’t do it without them, the more and more Hasbro will be closer to our lives. Next time, what kind of surprises will Hasbro give us? Let us wait and see!

[whichstiel]

I was lying in a tent in the middle of a forest and sunlight was just beginning to filter through the trees. It was five minutes past the start of the second round of claims. I had just enough of a cell phone signal to slowly pull up the list of stories. And...there it was. One of my top five stories remained! There’s nothing like a successful claim to start the morning off right!

@scones-and-texting-and-murder​‘s story, Remember When, is a beautiful story about growing up and finding each other again. Here’s the summary:

Castiel Novak meets Dean Winchester in the summer of 1989 when they’re both ten years old.  Growing up in small town Kansas is as all-American as climbing trees and little league baseball, but the carefree days of childhood can’t last forever. With adolescence comes new challenges, and Cas finds himself frustrated by decisions Dean makes that he can’t understand. After a big fight junior year, they stop speaking for months, and when tragedy strikes Cas’s family, there’s only time for a quick, heartfelt goodbye before the Novaks move away.

Six years later, after the death of his father, Cas takes a semester off from grad school and returns to Kansas. There he finds the woods where they used to play bulldozed into a housing development, and the Winchester family similarly fractured and gone. In relaying this news to his mother, he learns Dean was keeping secrets of his own as they grew up, forced by circumstances to take on too much too young. Armed with this new information, Cas impulsively decides to drive west to find him and try to make things right.

You can read the teen rated version or the explicit version on AO3. See below for a little bit about the process!

When I originally read the summary, I was captivated by the description of the boys growing up with a tree in the background, as a touchpoint. I’d planned to do simple illustrations (The Giving Tree came to mind). And then I remembered that drawing is hard!

The story made me think a lot about memory and how, in films, flashbacks to the past are often faded or misty. I decided on a hybrid solution: I would do all white paper art for the background (evoking misty memory), but have bright, digital illustrations for key focal points of each image (i.e. the tree, the boys, etc.)

I like to let the cover set the tone for the rest of the pieces, so I started on that first. Friends, it did not go well. (Drawing is hard!) I scrapped my first idea and quietly panicked.

Failed Cover Drafts

I still liked the idea of all white art, or neutral toned art, but I wasn’t sure how to make it work. (If you’re familiar with what I do, you’ll know that I feel most comfortable swimming in color.) I found inspiration in a beautiful book cover (A song of three spirits, by J. Zachary Pike) and riffed off of it, drawing a stylized tree, and adding Dean, Cas, and Cas’s house to it. I wanted it to be mostly symmetrical, so I drew half of the tree, then scanned the design, put it in a photo editor, duplicated and flipped it. BOOM. One whole image achieved. I printed out template sheets, taped one to the top of the cardstock, and started cutting out all the shapes. The main circle was done by upending a bowl and tracing around it. (I really do not trust my eye or hand when it comes to making something symmetrical!)

I photographed it outdoors in full sun, spinning it around until I got the shadows to fall the way I wanted them to. The top cardstock design is balanced on a shadowbox picture frame, and set on top of some cheap green poster board.

Final Cover Drafts

Okay. So, one down. Now, how was I going to pull off the rest? And still have it fit with the cover? And be interesting? ARGH!

My original sketch for the first scene (marbles scene) was more of a 2D look. But once I had the cover worked out, I started thinking about circles as being one of the visual themes of the art series. The marbles scene changed from a 2D look to a minimalist set of circles. And then, since it seemed a little too minimalist, I added a carved mat and backdrop as well. Set against the same green posterboard as the cover, the two felt more unified to me.

Marbles Scene Drafts

Once I finished that, I decided any pretense of realism was pretty much out the window. For my third piece, I opted to make the prettiest dugout you ever did see, laced with an oak tree motif like the cover. I’d found an artist (Malin Koort) who made these really cool sort of 3D people. (They’re adorable - go check them out.) I decided to adapt that look for my own people (but with less stylistic flair).

Dugout Scene Drafts

Now I was feeling like I was in good shape, I finished up the divider (again with the same oak / swoop motif of the cover).

With a week to go, I thought about the joke I’d made at the start of our collaboration: that I’d make some NSFW art for the first time. Why not, I decided. I had time to give it a whirl. If it didn’t work out, my author still had plenty of pieces to fulfill the DCBB minimum. I again went with white on white, relying on shadow to pull out the edges in the image. There’s a little tiny dick about the size of a sliver of fingernail in the final picture, but the angle isn’t right to show it. It’s enough just to know it’s there, right?

Topographical Map of Sex

Pulling these pieces together, I definitely had Project Runway on my mind. To me, building these pieces was like building a fashion collection. Each piece had to be different and stand on its own, but still be visually and functionally tied together. So, using the same paper, similar techniques, and a repeating pattern really “made it work” for me!

Thanks for reading! If you liked this, please let me know! Drop a line on Tumblr or at my art masterpost on AO3.

Messy Workspace is My Brand

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

California Senate Bill 313: A “Traveling Animal Act” Prevention Bill with Potentially Massive Unintended Consequences.

At the end of 2017 / in early 2018, we talked about a bill on the blog called Nosey’s Law - an “anti-circus bill” in New Jersey that, if passed as written, would have also banned normal 4H activities, ended outreach programming with rehabilitated raptors or rescued small exotics, and even made taking snakes and frogs into a classroom for show and tell illegal. I thought that was a really important bill to focus on, because I fully believe legislation pertaining to animal use and animal welfare needs to be accurate, well written, and fully thought out no matter what specific issue it addresses. Nosey’s Law was a great example of what it looks like when legislators haven’t put in that effort: the state senator sponsoring the bill had blindly trusted representatives from the NJ Humane Society of the United States chapter and other animal rights groups when they told him that amending the language of the bill - in a way that massively broadened it’s area of impact - wouldn’t hurt any business in the state that wasn’t a circus. The man genuinely had no idea that the overly broad, unspecific language of the law he wanted passed would shut down a majority of animal education and outreach work done in New Jersey. Luckily. it got vetoed, and a much more well-written and specifically targeted version of the law was passed during the next legislative season in 2018. 

I tell you this story because California’s new proposed “anti-circus” or “traveling animal act ban” bill SB 313 makes the effect the original Nosey’s Law would have had look like child’s play. It is genuinely one of the worst laws I’ve ever seen proposed regarding animals (and I spend a lot of time reading and yelling at various pieces of animal-related legislation these days). Do you want kids to be able to learn about reptiles and other wild animals through licenced, regulated classroom programming? Do you do 4-H with alpaca? Do you want to ever see any non-domestic animal in a movie? Do you like it when your local zoo or aquarium or wildlife sanctuary brings in new animals? Would you like them to be able to bring them back if they have to evacuate due to a natural disaster? Too bad. SB 313 has the potential to ban literally all of these things. 

Okay, so what the hell makes this bill so bad? Two really simple things: a lack of specificity, and a fundamental misunderstanding of who uses exotic animals for what types of businesses in CA. 

The bill basically defines what makes something a “traveling animal act” and then says “it’s now illegal to use wild or exotic animals in one of these.” That should be simple enough, right? Here’s how it works. In order to define the type of traveling animal act that’s prohibited, the bill defines a “performance” and then defines a “mobile or traveling housing facility”, and says a traveling animal act is any performance that an animal is brought to in that type of mobile housing. As much as you’d think it shouldn’t be possible to fuck that up... that’s where the problems start. Let’s look at the definitions used for everything involved here:

A “performance” as defined by SB 313: “Any animal act, carnival, circus, display, exhibition, exposition, fair, parade, petting zoo, photo opportunity, presentation, public showing, race, ride, trade show, or similar undertaking in which animals perform tricks, give rides, or are used as accompaniments for the entertainment, amusement, or benefit of a live audience.” 

A “mobile or traveling housing facility” as defined by SB 313: “A vehicle, including, but not limited to, a trailer or railway car, used to transport or house an animal used in a performance.”

The simple version: it’s a performance if the public is able to look at the animal and derive any benefit from doing so. If the animal got there in a vehicle, it’s a traveling animal act, and it’s now illegal. The only exemption is if the animal is on display at a permanent facility accredited by either Association of Zoos or Aquariums (AZA) or Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries (GFAS), or, an outreach program run by said accredited facilities. 

There are a lot of reasons this language will cause problems, most of which are fairly common for these sorts of broad “anti-circus” bills: zoo and sanctuary accreditation programs are designed for those specific business types, and so most small education and outreach companies (like those that do classroom and library programs) don’t qualify for them and would be force to close; there are plenty of good zoos, aquariums, and wildlife sanctuaries in CA that do outreach but aren’t accredited by either of those two groups for entirely valid reasons, and would therefore also lose their ability to continue those programs; it makes no allowances for common occurrences like children bringing their “exotic” pets like snakes and hedgehogs to school for show-and-tell (and, if the school was reported, could result in $25,000 fine for the child’s family); the list of “wild and exotic” species that it applies to for some reason specifically includes alpaca, which are common farm / 4-H animals; it would prohibit any small trained exotics from being used in any film where the animals would be brought to the set, and so on. But there’s one really major issue that I haven’t seen any of the major animal groups in CA comment on: there’s no time limit on when moving an animal somewhere new stop being a “traveling act” and just becomes exhibition in a new home.

So, okay, the whole point of this bill is to ban circuses from ever being able to operate in CA. The way other states have addressed this (such as the final, much better version of Nosey’s Law) is to prevent people from traveling around with animals and exhibiting them in ways where they’re not going home to a permanent housing facility each night. That makes a decent amount of sense, right? Thing is, that’s now how SB 313 is written. It simply says that you can’t move an animal somewhere in a mobile housing vehicle and then show it to the public. Period. If (A) occurs by (B), then (C). So... that technically means if I moved an animal to even a stationary, permanent zoo or sanctuary in CA, it would be illegal for me to ever put that animal in the view of the public. The animal arrived in a mobile housing vehicle (A) and “exhibition” counts as a type of “performance” under the definition in the bill’s text (B) so therefore, it is illegal for me to do it because I would be causing a “traveling animal act” to occur (C). 

Now I know you’re going to look at me and say, okay, but obviously moving an animal between zoos is different than taking an animal on the road with a circus! They’re totally different things! And you’re right... except that that doesn’t actually matter with regards to legislation like this. Most people (and I’m pretty sure, also the legislators sponsoring the bill) are pretty sure that it’s “common sense” that what they’re trying to ban is different than outreach programming or moving a zoo animal to a new home. Thing is, as soon as you actually define a term in legislation, it’s no longer going to be interpreted based on a common sense definition. The way this law is written, if it passes, it would legitimately be illegal for any non-AZA or non-GFAS facility in California to bring in new animals for any type of public exhibition. 

Because we can’t have nice things, it actually still gets worse. Since there’s no exemptions or caveats for specific situations, this law also means that if a zoo or sanctuary had to evacuate their animals (say, because of a wildfire), it would be illegal for them to bring their animals back to the facility and open to the public again. Even if the animals are travelling in a moving housing vehicle literally only to save their life, putting them back on display after such transport still fits the definition of prohibited behavior in this bill as it’s currently written. 

Obviously, the senators supporting this bill don’t really understand how overly broad the scope of the language is, or what impact it would have - there are hundreds of education, outreach, and entertainment businesses in California that maintain a federal licenses to use exotic animals in their work. Like the guy who wrote Nosey’s law, they don’t understand the way the industry they’re trying to regulate works or what the prohibitions they’re putting into writing would actually do. The sponsoring senator for SB 313, Hueso, is well known for working with anti-captivity animal rights groups, and he likely has trusted them when they told him this is the best language to use and that it won’t harm entities he supports. Not only is he getting duped, but so are the constituents of any CA legislator who supports this bill. Even if the people in those areas have decided that they think circuses should be illegal in the state, I can guarantee you that nobody wants their kids fined for taking their alpaca to a county fair, or for their local zoo to no longer be able to bring in new animals, or for the educators that help kids at summer camp fall in love with snakes to be forced out of business. 

TL;DR: SB 313 is a badly written bill that misleads the public into supporting a very wide ban on education and outreach, rather than just preventing the use of exotic animals in circuses. The “Circus Cruelty Prevention Act” would also shut down all but a select few wildlife education opportunities for California residents, damage the ability of local zoos to bring in new animals, and make it illegal for zoos and sanctuaries to resume operations after they evacuate their animals during wildfires. 

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

A View To A Winchester (Part 12)

Series Page

Summary: Julie’s starting a new life after divorce in a home with a very nice view.

A Dean X OFC story. I got this idea staring out the view of my home office window and thinking how nice it would be to have Dean Winchester to ogle.

Section Word Count: 4,300    

Section Content: angst, R-rated language, show level violence

~~~~~

“Welcome to Makenzie’s.” The same chipmunk-cheeked twenty-something from last night smiled at Dean when he approached the hostess stand. Her smile extended a bit wider in recognition. “Winchester, right?”

He flashed his best smile back. “Devin, right?”

She nodded with exuberance. “What can I do for you?”

“Some information would be great, Devin.”

“Sure, just a sec.” Devin handed the waitress standing next to her a few menus and chatted. The obvious flaws in Dean’s original plan smacked him in the face. I’m just going to get escorted out if I try the FBI approach at a place I’ve already been to. Badge says Barrow. Dean canvassed the dining area with his eyes. There was no sign of the woman he was trying to track. The smell of charred flesh made his stomach grumble. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, a couple cold pieces of pizza at Cas’s.

“Actually, if it’s alright, I’m just going to head to the bar?”

“Absolutely. Tables are all booked up for a good two hours, at least.”

He nodded and beelined to the bar.

~~~~~

Dean left the bar fifteen minutes later when he got what he needed from the chatty male bartender. Picking up on the gay vibes immediately, Dean turned up the flirting and got Chad to overpour two bourbon shots along with the information. A healthy tip accompanied the cash for a half-eaten plate of onion rings and the liquor. Dean had the first number on speed dial ringing with a flippant push on the exit door.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy. I need your nerdiness.”

Sam huffed. “My computer skills, you mean?”

“Sure. If that makes you feel better.”

“What’s up?”

Dean eased into the driver’s seat and loosened his tie. “I’m not sure, yet. It’s one of my neighbors. She’s gone missing today.”

“Missing?”

“Yeah. I’ve got the name of one of the last people who saw her. Think you can get me an address?”

“I’ll try. Who am I looking up?”

“Ina Rever.”

“I-N-A? Rever, like lever?” Sam confirmed.

“Yep. See if anything comes up in Delaware.”

“Alright, gonna take a little time.”

“I’ll wait.”

Sam sighed.

“Unless I’m interrupting something?”

“No. Well, I was studying. I could actually use the break. Eileen’s out, getting groceries.”

“I thought you two just foraged around in fields for your food.”

“Funny. I can’t get Eileen to eat healthy for shit. Maybe now with a baby on the way...”

“I still can’t believe you’re going to be a dad,” Dean interrupted. “Poor kid.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“So, who went missing?”

“Neighbor. Name’s Julie Felton.”

“Wait. Julie? The Julie?”

Dean sifted through his spotty memory rolodex. He was pretty sure he hadn’t mentioned Julie to Sam in any recent conversation. They’d only spoken a handful of times over the past couple months. “What do you mean ‘The Julie’?”

“Cas called this morning and told me all about her… and your date last night.”

Of course he did. “Nothing much to tell, Sammy. It’s just important that I find her.”

“Right, right, of course.” Sam shifted to consoling mode. “You can tell me all about her after you find her. Okay, I’ve got an address for Ina.”

“Great. Text it to me.”

“Yeah, Dean, already done.”

Dean’s phone buzzed at the text from his brother.

“Do you need me to see if I can track Julie’s phone?”

“If you can. But, I checked her mom’s phone - they have one of those family apps that share location - and, it looks like it last shows her at the house this morning. Called up my connection at the police station to see what he could find. Her car turned up in a parking lot at a shopping center, not far from the house. Cop’s goin’ store to store.”

“You called Marty? How’s he doing?”

“I didn’t get a chance to ask.” Dean had mentioned the detective to Sam a few times, being one of the handful of people he could call a friend. “Just sent her number to you.”

“Maybe I can get something else from the cell towers. Finding a car out in the open is pretty good news, Dean. It might all be nothing and she’s safe and sound. You know, a big misunderstanding. Wait, though.” He hummed. “Weird.”

“What?” Dean plugged the address into his phone’s GPS and started the engine as the route calculated.

He switched Sam to speaker. His voice wielded priority over the robotic female starting to spout directions. “Well, I’m not finding anything else on this Ina Rever. No history. Nothing before her poofing into thin air in Delaware.” Dean could hear computer keys tapping. He shifted into drive and rolled out of the parking spot. “Let me just…”

“I’ve got ten minutes before I get to this place, Sammy. Whatever you can find, find it quick.”

“I ran the photo from the driver’s license through a bunch of databases. Got facial matches, all under different names, all over the country… over the past five decades it looks like.”

“Five decades? Woman’s maybe in her thirties.”

“Her Delaware license says she’s 33. Dean…”

“Shit.” No. Julie.

“Something supernatural.” Sam finished.

“What the hell? I got nothing to go on here! No idea what I’m walking into! Vamp nest? Werewolf pack?” Dean yelled at the phone.

“Calm down, Dean. Let me dig into some of the places where this woman’s been. Do you know anything about her?”

“Julie can’t spare a minute for a trip down memory lane.”

“She can if it helps find her. And, you’ve got eight minutes before you get there.”

Dean split his focus between the GPS directions and anything he could remember that Ina mentioned over the dinner table last night. “She’s a waitress at a restaurant. Sounded like she just moved to Delaware a couple months ago.”

“Okay. Whatever it is, if it’s got a routine or needs to…” Sam cleared his throat. Dean knew Sam stopped himself from saying “feed”. “Some weird stuff might have happened a couple months after she moved into these other places. “Missing persons, maybe?”

Dean clenched his jaw, not wanting to speak the next request. “Look for missing persons that turned up dead.” Keyboard clicks went on for a while. “Five minutes, Sammy,” Dean reminded.

“Not helping, dude.” More agonizing seconds ticked by. “Got something. One of the missing persons was found a week after they disappeared.”

“Alive or dead?” Dean took the ramp off the highway, staring out at the business and industrial section of New Castle to his right.

Sam sighed. “Dead.”

Dean kept his focus on the job at hand and took a deep breath. “Where’d they find the body?”

“Looks like it was in an abandoned warehouse.”

“Fuck me!” Dean barked.

“What?”

“This thing’s place of residence is like a minute away from warehouse central! Miles of it.”

“Stick to the plan, Dean. Check out the house first.”

Dean nodded with intent even though Sam couldn’t see him.

“Oh.” Sam mumbled.

“What?”

“The cause of death was exsanguination.”

“Vampire?”

“Maybe. But, I got into the police records. Does this sound familiar? Body was found hanging by its wrists, trussed up. The reporting officer said it looked like a blood bank in there. Needles, tubes, collection vials. Like the person was being drained. Slow.”

Hope sprung back into Dean’s mind. “A Jinn? With an MO like the one that was feeding off me for days? That means there’s time to find her.”

“Maybe. But, it could still be a vamp or some other bloodsucking variation.”

“But if it’s a Jinn, she’s got a shot.” Run down houses lined the blocks of the neighborhood he rolled through. Parked cars squeezed into every inch of available space along the narrow streets. Soft, setting rays angled onto the cheap, dirty vinyl siding on the house that matched the address. “I’m losing sun, Sam. What kind of car does this thing drive?” He parallel parked Baby into a tight spot and shut off the engine, glancing around the street.

“Green, Honda Civic.”

“Great. Nondescript and basic. Like every other car. But… I don’t see one here.”

A barking dog barreled towards Dean’s car in the unkempt yard of the house. It stopped feet short of the chain link fence, whining, as the long leash went taut.

“Son of a bitch. Cocoa’s home.” Dean mumbled.

“What?” Sam asked, confused.

“Nothing.” The car door squeaked. He hurried to the back. A swerve of his head noted no one out on the nearby street or sidewalk. No one hung out in the vehicle behind him, either. He popped the Impala’s hood and readied to hang up. “Let me get in there.”

“Dean?”

“What?” The phone pressed to his ear, pinched between his shoulder and cheek. He lifted the false bottom of the trunk up for peek, reached for his Colt where it always was, and checked the cartridge had silver bullets. They’d been the standard go to for years now. His backup monster insurance. Fresh out of lamb’s blood to dip a silver knife in. Plan B - Bash the thing’s head to chili if it is a Jinn.

“Keep me on the line. You know, in case something happens. I might be able to help.”

The hood clicked close. Dean sighed. “Alright. The phone in the pocket, camera thing?”

“Yeah, that works.”

Sam requested a FaceTime connection. Dean squinted at the screen, walking and talking on the path toward the front porch. “Dude, you look like you’re auditioning for the lead in a Jesus musical... ‘Go Tell It On The Mountain” or some other hippie shit. Your hair. And again with that fucking beard.” Cocoa kept up on the other side of the fence, no longer barking. It didn’t look out of the ordinary. Tail wagging, begging for attention.

Dean could barely make out Sam’s bitchface under all the hair. “Shut up. Remember…”

“Switch the camera angle. Put yourself on mute, would ya?” The phone slid into the jacket’s chest pocket.

“I will.” Sam’s voice was muffled. “That’s perfect. Be careful. Going radio silent.”

Geek.

Dean knocked, surveyed anything he could of the small cottage house through the window panes. “Hello?” He called out and knocked again. The knob rattled under his grip, locked. Flimsy ass door. He looked around to ensure no one was passing by or in his sightline. Dean stepped back and kicked the door dead center. The weight and force behind the sole of his dress shoes propelled it open on its hinges. It swung back almost to the original closed position.

Sam’s probably busting a blood vessel right about now. He tapped the door with his foot to get a lay of the land. “Hello?” Strolling in, he called out. “Door was open.” His hand reached around to his back under the jacket, ready to pull out his gun if needed. “Ina Rever?”

The inside of the house was neat, tidy, and what he thought would be called shabby chic or some shit. It smelled of incense.

“Fuck this.” He mumbled and pulled out his gun. Around every corner, he rounded with an unflinching focus on the front sight and the view just beyond. His feet were quick, two stepping all throughout. His breathing steadied to control his grip and aim. Every closet and room searched, including the basement. The backyard was empty. Nothing.

Dean slipped the gun back under his jacket before stepping onto the porch, shutting the door with the mangled lock best he could. “Still there, Sammy?” He could hear the irritation in his own voice.

It took a couple seconds for his brother to respond. “Yeah.”  

“Anything on Julie’s cell?” He rushed to the car, phone in hand and glanced at his brother’s face.

“Nothing.”

He shook his head and stared out at the countless warehouses on the horizon. “If the car’s not here…”

“She probably drove to where she’s got Julie. I was searching near your location while you broke into the house.”

The undertone of disapproval from his little brother was obvious. He placed Sam on Baby’s hood and removed his jacket and tie, tossing them in the back seat. “And?”

“Three abandoned warehouses.”

“Let’s go.”

~~~~~

“So, this girl?” Sam glanced at Dean from the phone’s screen, mounted on the dash.  He was giving Dean directions, using his location tracker to monitor his movement. A clear blue sky framed Sam, sitting out in his backyard. It was still sunny and 6:00 pm in California. The sun, however, had set on the east coast. The road in front of Dean was dark, lit up golden by Baby’s headlights.

Dean knew what Sam was up to. His way to distract his older brother from spiraling. Act first, think later was never Sam’s approach. And, almost always his.

“She’s not a girl, Sammy. Every ounce of her is all woman.”

“Yeah.” Sam cleared his throat. “I checked out her social media accounts. Very nice, Dean. Another two miles. Make a right at the next crossroads. It’ll be a half a mile on your right.”

Dean closed his eyes as he drove the straight patch of road to the second warehouse on the list. No way my luck would have had her at our first stop. Images from last night flashed in his mind. Julie staring down into his eyes with those big brown ones while he worshipped her. Gorgeous, thick, wavy brown locks of her hair tickling the tips of his fingers kneading her ample chest. Her plump lips parting in arousal and want. The curve of her breast dipping over and above his mouth as he suckled. He could almost taste the slight sweat and salt. The way her hard yet pliable nipple rolled against and pushed into his tongue. She struggled to moan his name. It was the sexiest thing he’d heard in forever.  

A truck coming at him on the two lane road blared his horn. Dean jolted and steered back into his lane. Dammit.

“You okay?” Sam’s forehead wrinkled like the skin folds of a Shar Pei puppy.

“Yeah.”

“Cas said you were pretty wound up last night, about Julie. Really upset that you had to cut the date short.”

“Are you really talking to me about this? Now?”

“I can never keep you on the phone for more than five minutes, Dean. Captive audience right now.”

“And you think I stick my foot in my mouth?”

“Sorry. It’s just… you like her. A lot. Yeah, saving people, it’s ingrained in us, part of our DNA. But you wouldn’t knock a door down the way you did for just anybody.”

Dean drove way over the speed limit.

“When we find her, safe, you’re going to tell me all about her.”

Dean refused to reply, to reveal the thoughts tripping over each other, as he continued down the road. He didn’t speak again until Baby’s headlights washed over the back bumper of a Green Honda Civic parked around the corner of a two story warehouse by a large dumpster. He slowed down and killed the engine, rolling to a quiet stop.

“Looks like the jackpot is behind door number two.”

Sam’s face lit up. “Let’s get in there.”

Dean shook his head. “No. This is what I need you to do. I’m texting you Marty’s number. If you don’t hear back from me in ten minutes, you call him. Tell him who you are, where I am, and what we think we’ve been tracking. He’ll take it from there.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I got this, Sammy.”

He nodded. “Be careful.”

Dean gave him a small smile and ended the call. He texted Sam the number, made sure he got a response back that Sam had it, and set his phone to Do Not Disturb. He rummaged through the glove box and found his pocket knife. A small flashlight gripped tight in his fist as he left the safety of the car.

Gravel crunched under his feet, eventually merging into a blacktop near three loading bay doors. The roll-up of the center door was not flush to the ground; left open enough for someone to slide under. Here we go.

Dean wasted no time and scooted on his chest into the building, no longer concerned about the condition of his dress shirt and pants. He jumped to his feet in the pitch black of the warehouse. Breathing slowed. Eyes adjusted while he refrained from using the flashlight. He always wondered how good a Jinn’s eyesight was in the dark. Ceiling high racks and shelves of steel framework came into slight focus. They created three long rows in front of him.

A lingering smell of sawdust filled his nose. He afforded seconds to close his eyes, tilting his head like a satellite dish to zero in on the slightest noise. Aside from the ramping of his heartbeat, there was nothing to hint of occupants other than Dean. Might as well make my presence known. She has to be here. He swallowed, pulled out his gun and turned on the flashlight. His body steeled into a military stance. Grounded, steady steps marched forward. A path down the center aisle would give him the best view of the massive warehouse floor. The flashlight above his gun lit the way, sweeping back and forth along the concrete.

“Julie!” His voice boomed, echoed back. Empty cardboard boxes, pilfered through by vagrants or scavengers, lay along the floor with packing material. Dean zigzagged through the maze. Bubble wrap popped under one foot. He froze, waiting for the sound to subside. “Julie!” He called out again. Not sure if it was his eyes playing tricks on him, he thought he saw a shadow flicker farther down the dead end he was headed straight toward. Movement got his attention along his right in the other aisle. God, I hope it’s just one of ‘em.

More boxes came into focus. But these were neatly stacked, forming a partition and one narrow entrance Dean would be forced to take. He made certain no one was behind him. He inhaled and exhaled slow, then rounded the corner and inventoried the space.

It was a bare bones phlebotomy lab. Three rolling carts had needles, tubes, IV bags, and other random medical equipment atop them. He opened a cooler with the tip of his shoe and noted two filled blood bags atop ice cubes not even melted. Definitely still here.

His eyes were drawn to translucent sheeting hung from steel shelving in the back corner. The halo of light revealed a silhouette behind the milky colored plastic. He straightened, cocked his shoulders back, and approached with his gun aimed, ready to fire if necessary. One of his hands reached for the side of the plastic and ripped it away, hard.

Material swooshed. Clips clanged onto the floor. “Julie.” Dean whispered.

Julie’s wrists were bound in thick twists of rope. Her body hung from the shackling. Dean’s eyes widened at her disrobed state. She’d been left in only a tank top and panties. The toes of her bare feet were the only part touching the floor. A needle had been inserted into her inner thigh. Julie’s blood traveled through the tubing, filling another bag by her feet. Femoral artery. Quick drain.

His neck craned from one side to the other. He peered into the adjacent aisle to see if they had company. When he was certain there was no one, his mind assessed the situation. He holstered the gun behind his back into the waistband. Placing the flashlight on the closest cart illuminated Julie’s grim and dire state. Gotta get her down, at least slow the blood flow.

The pocket knife sprung open in one hand. His heart ached as he stepped toward Julie. He stared down at the disheveled hair falling in front of her slumped figure. “Julie?” He whispered. Two of his fingers went to the side of her neck. Hope sprung back when he felt the faint pulse. “Can you hear me? It’s Dean. Gonna get you out of here, okay.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her in a vice, pressing his body to hers for support. Her body lifted off the ground an inch or two. The rope went a bit slack. The knife’s blade pushed taut against the give and sawed.

Julie’s head lolled back between the arms still tied above her. Her hair parted to display the face he’d grown fond of staring at. She looked peaceful, with closed eyes and the hint of the tiniest smile. Dean knew from his own run in with a Jinn that there was a good chance she was in some idyllic dream state. Hopefully not the nightmare kind. “Gonna be okay.” He murmured more to ease his own thoughts. “Come on.” He voiced his impatience at the rope.

He grunted when the frayed rope released its hold. Julie’s arms tumbled to her sides. He let the knife fall to the ground and embraced her tight with both arms, cradling the back of her head with the palm of one hand. “Gotcha.” He whispered and brought her to the floor, resting her gently on the concrete.

Dean rose. Gotta get her help. Before he could search for the phone in his pocket, something barreled from behind right into his lower back. He arched backward at the force and slammed into the side of one of the medical carts and finally into the wall of cardboard boxes. His mind at work the entire time, he righted himself in an instant. A quick hop to his feet and he pulled out his gun, aiming where the attack originated.

All five feet of the petite Jinn, using the name Ina Rever, stood between him and Julie’s slumbering frame. Her blue eyes shone in the shadows. He could make out the intricate tattoos forming on the surface of its skin. She’s charging up her poison. Can’t let those hands touch my skin. Dean closed the distance between them. She knelt to the ground.

Shit. If he took a shot at her now, he risked hitting Julie. The Jinn rotated and spun, extended a leg outward, connecting into Dean’s shins. He dropped to the right. The gun flew out of his hand and he landed face forward onto his chest. Shit.

A tiny elbow with concentrated energy rammed into the center of his spine. He groaned. Fast little fucker. She sprung back up, stepped back, and landed on top of him again, elbow in between his shoulder blades.

She stood up and sounded out of breath. Dean could only see her sneakers shuffling from side to side like a boxer. Julie lay behind her, dead to the world. Dean’s eyes lit up at the pocket knife a couple feet behind the Jinn as well.

“This one wasn’t much of a challenge. Dangle a lost dog in front of her and she willingly offers to drive me back to my car at the shopping center and hand out flyers. Of course, if it wasn’t for naive, helpful people like Julie, I might starve.” Ina’s perky little voice wafted down to Dean. The pain in his back radiated into his limbs. “I didn’t think she’d be missed so soon, though. But, I should have known it would have probably been you, after seeing you both at dinner last night.” He hooked his fingers into a deep grout line on the concrete floor and pulled his body a few inches. Ina kicked him in the stomach, which only helped spur Dean closer to the knife. “She’s got it bad for you. When I fed off her just a little while ago, straight from the tap, I got a glimpse at her happy place. She is all about the happy endings with you. Dean, right?”

“What can I say,” he groaned. “I have that kind of effect on women.” Keep monologuing, bitch. I just need to get a little closer.

“I guess her occupation with you is another reason her guard was down. So, thank you for that.”

“Don’t mention it.” He slammed his hand onto the pocket knife and then catapulted up, plunging the blade into Ina’s thigh. She screeched. He held on with everything he could and forced the knife through the muscle like a lever. Crimson splattered and flowed down Dean’s arm and white dress shirt.

She collapsed to the floor, clutching at her leg. He was on her in a flash and captured her between his kneeling frame. A slash of the blade along her neck sputtered blood. Then, he pummeled at her face over and over again until the body stilled.

Dean was pretty sure she was dead. He slammed her head a few times into the concrete for good measure. He huffed, rose to his feet and closed the pocket knife. He caught sight of his gun on the floor, grabbed it, and slipped it into his pants. When he pulled out the phone he saw Sam had tried to call him numerous times. He called him back.

“Dean? What’s going on?”

Dean kneeled next to Julie. He swept her hair away and checked for a pulse again. “I found her. She’s alright, I hope. But she’s in one of those fairy tale comas, I think.”

“So, it was a Jinn?”

“‘Was’ being the key word.”

Sam huffed. “Well, I hope Marty is as good of a guy as you say he is. He’s on his way there.”          

“How long ago did you call him?”

“I called him as soon as I hung up with you. Maybe twenty minutes.”

He smiled against the phone as he heard the bay door roll up. “Dean!” Marty called out.

“Thanks for not following my directions, Sammy.”

“Anytime, Dean.”

Part 13

Series Page

[jwood718]

From the “I think I heard bits and pieces of that before--but I’m not really sure” files: the backstory of the Migrant Mother photo, taken by Dorothea Lange in 1936.

The image has been famous since it was first published, accompanying a story about starving pea pickers in Nipomo, CA, but who the woman depicted is, and what the conditions of her family, were unstated until the 1970s when Florence Thompson wrote to a magazine to demand that her image stop being published.  Elsewhere, more of the story includes Thompson being a Cherokee born in Indian Territory (before it was annexed into Oklahoma), and that her husband in 1936 had taken the family Hudson into Nipomo for repairs.  They were only near the pea picker’s camp on a lay-over en route to Watsonville.

Lennard Davis, in the Los Angeles Review of Books, takes a critical look at the famous image, the nearly unknown other photos taken at the same time, and writes a concise history of how Migrant Mother  likely came about.  It’s a response to the Museum of Modern Art (NY) mounting a retrospective of Lange’s work earlier this year.

The famous image, as best known--where Florence Thompson’s thumb has been “dodged & burned:” look closely toward the bottom of the tent pole in the lower right corner, and the ghost of the digit can still be seen near other visible portions of her left hand which remain untouched.  Compare this to the print from the original negative in the photo at top.

Writes Davis: “ We can look at the photo as an iconic representation of true American grit in the face of adversity...what if we try to return the picture to its fluid moment, as an encounter between two people — Lange and Thompson?”

He continues that Lange’s own description of the encounter, reflected on by her 20 years after the fact, is misleading, and describes what has been termed lately the actions of a photojournalist “parachuting in.”  In reality, Davis believes, the time it took to set up the camera Lange carried would have been more considerable than she let on, and the other five images Lange shot with Thompson and her children show that the whole thing was quite deliberate in the posing.

“...there is another story here, a more complex one than Lange [presented]. This alternative encounter represents a much richer set of human interactions between the five people in the photos and the photographer.”

Davis also illuminates the life of Florence Thompson and that of her family before and after the famous photo was taken: she was from a middle class background; she read Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath; though toughing it out during the Depression, her children grew up well.  Eventually they settled and went back to being middle class.

“If we listen to one of Thompson’s children, Norma Rydlewski...we hear a different version: ‘Mother was a woman who loved to enjoy life, who loved her children...When I look at that photo of mother, it saddens me...Mama and daddy would take us to the movies a lot. We’d go to the carnival whenever it was in town...’“

The first Lange photo, from the Library of Congress, with Thompson and her children looking right at the camera.

While the photo has been credited with saving lives, the Thompson family was not among those at the pea picking camp when the fed sent relief food--they’d already moved on; plus, the relief had already been delivered before the photo was published!

Davis argues that the FSA program of Depression era photos was meant to reinforce a certain point of view, that a specific hierarchy within U.S. society was catered to, one that made the better-off happy to be better-off, and that the poor were always poor.

“...Lawrence W. Levine remarked...’The only culture the poor are supposed to have is the culture of poverty; worn faces and torn clothing; dirty skin and dead eyes, ramshackle shelters and disorganized lives. Any forms of contentment or self-respect, even cleanliness itself, have no place in this totality.’”

“Do we have an obligation to view the images in a different way if we know something more about the circumstances of their creation?”

“Migrant Mother: Dorothea Lange and the Truth of Photography” by Lennard Davis. 

Los Angeles Review of Books.

All photos: Library of Congress Prints and Photographs online catalog --”Migrant Mother Dorothea Lange”

[dimples-of-discontent]

My Cockles Crack Masterpost:

Hello, yes, did any of you need a little pick-me-up? I know I do. So I’ve collected for you all most of the Cockles crack that I’ve written. I left off collaborative pieces of crack and ones attached to long gifsets. But all the text posts (especially “Jensen vs. Jensen’s brain”) are all there. I’ll drop a cut somewhere since this baby is long but I hope you all enjoy. 

LONG LIVE TEAM DUMPSTER MANSION!!! 

Dabb: So, let’s have AU Cas.

SPN writers: Cool. Why don’t we ask Misha to do one of his accents?

Jensen: *flings door open* *pants* AM I TOO LATE?! DID I MISS IT?!

BONUS alternative by @postmodernmulticoloredcloak​:

Dabb: So, let’s have AU Cas.

Everyone: …

Jensen: *starts vibrating at a very high frequency*

Misha: …okay I’ll do an accent

Isn’t it so weird that none of Jensen’s kids look like Misha?

Jensen is CONSTANTLY hosting his own episodes of Queer Eye and every one is about Misha.

[Below the cut]

Jensen: *looks up suddenly and stares into the middle distance* *vibrates at a high frequency*

Danneel: What is it, babe?

Jensen: Somewhere…Misha is doing an accent. Badly. He’s doing it badly, but he’s still doing it.

Danneel: You’ve gotta go!

Jensen: You’re right, I’ve gotta go!

Somewhere in Austin a high-pitched whistle blows.

Jensen, holding his ears and running into the kitchen: Alright, alright! What?!

Danneel, points wordlessly at laptop screen where this is displayed.

Jensen: Oh no.

Danneel, accusatory: I thought you HID those!

Jensen: I did! *pause* Why would he look in my dirty laundry anyway?

*Danneel stares*

Jensen: Oh right. I guess he needed something to wear.

Danneel: Pretty dumb, babe.

Jensen: Hmmm…yeah. *pause, then, hopeful* I guess we couldn’t fly to Hawaii to get them, right? *pause* No, no of course not. *mumbles* Damn shorts.

Text convo, probably:

Jensen: mish miss you. send me a pic.

Misha: *photo of something random like an interesting leaf*

Jensen: no, i mean like i MISS you miss you. send a pic of you.

Misha: *photo of his foot*

Jensen: oh for fuck’s sake! *posts flex meme and tags misha in it*

Jensen: there now it’s public you have to do it. and you can fuck off.

Misha: *sends dick pic*

Me: god Misha has the perfect jawline. Not that it matters.

Lizard brain: lick it

Me: yes, yes if I actually had a real relationship with him that would be well and good but…

Lizard brain: LICKIT

Me: yes, yes I heard you but what’s crucial is that Misha is one of the very best humans out there not that he has the stubbled and chiseled jawline of a Greek god so I really think we should focus on…

Jensen (in the distance): oh my God! it doesn’t have to be a choice, dummy!! L I CK IT!!

Jensen’s brain: It’s Misha’s birthday. We love Misha. Say it.

Jensen: No. We are in public. I am just going to call him “the man” and post a cute pic of us in matching outfits.

Jensen’s brain: NOOOOOO…SAYITSAYITSAYITWELOVEHIMSAYIT

Jensen: God fine ok…but I’m using an emoji not words.

Jensen’s brain: Acceptable.

Jensen: And also I’m going to add “bro”.

Jensen’s brain: …. 😒

Jensen: So now no one will ever know.

Jensen’s brain: 🙄

(About this mess right here)

Jensen’s brain: hold his hand

Jensen: NO it will look gay!

Jensen’s brain: but…you are gay for each other? so who cares?

Jensen: Yes, but we can’t LOOK gay ok? So just shake hands.

Jensen’s brain: fine 🙄

**Jensen does whatever this subby, hand-groping bullshit is**

Jensen’s brain: is that…. is that how humans shake hands? in a non-gay way?

Jensen: Shut up.

Jensen’s brain: i’m just trying to understand

Jensen: Shut up, asshole

Jensen’s brain: 😏

Look, I know it’s not going to happen, but all I want in life is for Jensen to respond to Misha’s shirtless video by saying “Hey Mish, if you need a shirt I have a few old ones for you.”

New theory: Jensen gives Misha so many shirts because otherwise his natural inclination is to run around bare-chested and Jensen’s poor, queer heart cannot handle it. (Photo version.)

Cockles trash cat meme origin

So you know how you sometimes go out with you friends and one of them gets way too drunk and ends up getting confessional with someone they don’t know that well? And you kind of want to stop them but, y’know, it’s their life and their choices so you have nothing to do but sit back and watch and be equal parts mildly horrified that they are spilling secrets to a relative stranger and incredibly amused at how they will feel about it later?

THAT is how I feel watching Misha tell the same story, over and over, about wearing Jensen’s hand-me-down shirts.

Misha, you’re currently my intensely emotional drunk friend and you need to stop before you reach the point of crying in the club. Neither of us can handle that. Thanks in advance.

Misha on social media: hahaha…Jensen is my cabin boy…that means he’s a sub who likes BDSM…hahaha…gonna make a comment about a giant space tongue rimming Jensen b/c why not lolz…gonna post a pic of myself covered in white goo and imply that it’s come from the conclusion of a threesome with Jensen and Jared…haha I’m such a scamp…I’m just incorrigible…teehee…

Misha when a fan mentions clothing: WHAT’S A JENSEN??? I’ve never heard of one and even if I had I definitely wouldn’t have had any non-heterosexual thoughts or feelings about him…and we’re absolutely not so close that we share in casual intimacy without a second thought…what could possibly make you think that?? I DON’T EVEN LIKE JENSEN OK!!!

Stages of Cockles in Gifs.

I feel like Jensen is one con away from straight-up answering an only tangentially-related question with, “…and that’s why I love Misha. You do know I love Misha, right? Like, love love him, like the way we love our wives. I feel like you guys get it so let’s just move on. Next question!”

At the next con, Jensen and Misha will be projecting the words “JUST SO YOU KNOW, I LOVE THIS MAN” on the side of the building across from the hotel in case you somehow miss that message in their panels.

At the next con, Jensen and Misha will be screening a 12-minute video that is just them giggling while one of them films the other; there will be no lines and nothing else will happen. Fandom will deem it a masterpiece.

At the next con, instead of his usual classic rock covers, Jensen will be performing a spoken word piece about how great Misha is, accompanied by Jared on bongos and Richard Speight on the kazoo.

In the final episode we are brought to the realization that the show DOES exist in our universe and on our timeline and that this entire time J2M have ACTUALLY BEEN TFW and kept this cover story about being actors on a TV show to keep us from knowing what they are really up to. Most of the show is just footage of their lives, though some of the things on the show were just absurd and to keep us off track.

Misha Collins is an actual angel. Jensen Ackles is a grumpy-faced softie with the biggest nerd streak. Jared Padalecki is a fiercely loyal and intelligent guy who has fought off more than his share of darkness. Gen and Danneel are actually supernatural creatures though neither will fully commit to being an angel or demon. Vicki is too powerful to be captured on film. And of course Jensen and Misha have been husbands for years. It was hard to hide that one on the show.

Jensen: *does interview quote game on his own* Great! Now, I’m gonna go get Misha. He’s gonna be so terrible at this game lol…He has the worst memory and never watches the show…hahaha isn’t that so cute?

Interviewer: oh actually we weren’t quite done interviewing you…

Jensen: yeah but Mish is gonna be so bad at this and I can’t afford to miss that! Imma go find him right now!

Interviewer: you really don’t have to…we’re actually talking to you all individually.

Jensen: ….

Interviewer: y’know, so we can cut the clips together?

Jensen: ….

Interviewer: And because you probably have a lot of other interviews at this huge press event for your 300th episode?

Jensen: ….. Yeah, no, I’m getting him right now. Hey, Mish! Get in here!

Filming with JenMish (aka “why’s Dean wearing a seatbelt?”)

**Jensen makes a dirty joke and Misha cracks up** **Misha and Jensen playfully push each other around the front seat of the car** **Misha says one thing that is mildly amusing and Jensen falls over laughing**

Sanchez, conferring with Bob Singer: What do you do to stop this?

Singer: strap one of them down

Sanchez: You mean, like, tell them to get it together or else?

Singer: No, no. I mean LITERALLY strap one of them down.

Sanchez: ….

Singer: Why do you think they get tied to so many chairs? **sighs** These two have cost us so much in duct tape.

photographer: alright, everyone, fight each other for pie! jensen: mish, you should pull my hair. misha: why? it’s not like that would stop you moving your arm. jensen: …. jensen: misha. you. should. PULL. MY. HAIR. misha: ooohhhhhh! jared: I don’t want to be here for this.

Cockles is the gay booze cruise of ships.

a text exchange that probably happened: jensen: I can’t believe ur still going running on vacation jensen: nerd misha: hello to you too. … misha: awww, babe, you must really miss me! that comment is so sappy! jensen: shut up misha: you “dig” the “WHOLE THING” huh? jensen: fuck off misha: don’t I know it!! jensen: fuck OFF misha: now I have to go like it. … misha: ok done. you huge softie. jensen: not always misha: oh really? misha: how about now? jensen: not now jensen: call me misha; as you wish…

Jensen’s brain (Jensain): holy shit!! look at our hot husband!! mmm…we like the grey and the sweat and the beard and, hey, did we give him that shirt? Jensen: yep. Jensen’s brain: and he sounds all smart and sincere, which turns us on….WOW we’ve been apart for too long! Jensen: tell me about it. Jensen’s brain: Say something about how good he looks. Jensen: I can’t. It’s public. Jensen’s brain: You gotta. Jensen: I. CAN’T. Jensen’s brain: But how these bitches gonna know he’s yours!? Do you know how many people are looking at this video RIGHT NOW?! Jensen: OMG Jensen’s brain: OMG Jensen: they gotta know… Jensen’s brain: YESSSSS!! DO IT!! Tell everyone the sexy, scruffy, deep-voiced, poetry-reciting motherfucker standing in the sunlight belongs to you! Jensen: I can’t say that. I’m just..gonna…tease him? about something? Jensen’s brain: u serious? 😒 Jensen: Well…no… Jensen’s brain: tell him you like the whole package! Jensen: I cannot use the word “package” about Misha in public. Jensen’s brain: 😏 Jensen’s brain: Fine! Can you at least mention how strong he is? Jensen: … I guess that’s less…gay… Jensen’s brain: uh-huh, sure. way less gay. 🙄 Jensen: ok, I did it. now leave me alone. I have to post a picture of my family so that no one suspects I only logged in because I have alerts set for Misha. Jensen’s brain: … Jensen’s brain: hey, you know who looks sexy in flannel PJs?? Jensen: ALRIGHT THAT’S IT

me: *wakes up in a cold sweat and sits upright in bed*

But how much of the mockumentary did Jensen shoot??!?

Misha is busting out of his shirt and jacket in those EW pics again, which makes me think something like this exchange must have taken place:

EW stylists: So, what size is Misha? SPN costumers: Eh, he’s the small one. EW stylists: But…he doesn’t…look small? SPN costumers: Nah, trust us, he’s the small one. EW stylists: Uh, looks more like he’s a 6’ wall of muscle but ok Misha: What’s a clothes? I will wear it. *Jensen sobbing in the background*

”I’m Full Frontal in Here Dude: Guest Starring Misha Collins” title of Jensen’s sex tape.

Jensen’s brain: you should give Misha that valentine.

Jensen: Yeah, good. It will work for the video. Like, as a joke.

Jensen’s brain: no. not joke. he’s your valentine.

Jensen: No he’s…

Jensen’s brain: you can’t lie to me. I’m you.

Jensen: shit. that’s true.

…

Jensen’s brain: Sooooo…valentine?

Jensen: Fine, but I’m gonna call him “buddy” when I give it to him.

Jensen’s brain: 😐

Jensen: People can’t KNOW!!

Jensen’s brain: You literally just called him your valentine on camera on a livestream but OK WHATEVER make sure you say “buddy.”

Jensen: I did WHAT??!

Jensen’s brain: Why do I bother? 🙄

Destiel AU where Cas is a poet who writes secret poems for Dean and posts them anonymously to an Instagram account that he gets Dean to follow and Dean falls in love with the mystery man he feels is speaking to him…and then realizes it was the guy he already crushed on from afar.

aka AU where Destiel is Cockles (with some tiny changes)

[shotsbyshae]

Who I Am

I'm Alexandra Sloan Wilson, the Winchesters are friends that gave me a family and I've been a hunter most of my life. Sam and Dean can often make life complicated, but little did I know, I was the one who was about to make things complicated. Every good hero & villain has their origin story...this is mine.

London

July 2nd, 1988

An older woman stands there, her long blonde tresses of hair framing her thin face as she looks down at the small infant bundled up in the bassinet in front of her. The baby has tiny black curls on her head with dark brown eyes that stare back up at the woman, full of innocence.

"I'm so sorry little one," the blonde-haired woman speaks softly, gently cupping the side of the child's face. The woman is torn in what she's about to do, and it is written all over her face as she holds both of her hands above the child in the bassinet and begins speaking in Latin.

The child's eyes suddenly glow a bright blue purple color for a few moments, then the color starts to glitch out, as if there's a bad connection, while the woman continues the spell. Then the bright color slowly fades away, leaving just the innocent brown eyes looking at her as the baby's face scrunches up in pain and she begins to cry.

She gently picks the infant up from the bassinet cradling her against her chest, "Everything's going to be okay now Alexandra." The blonde woman looks over as she hears someone else enter the room.

"Is she okay Melinda?" the woman questions as she comes closer, her long black hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

"Yes Laura," the blonde replies, "she's just a little fussy is all, she might be hungry."

"Well," the woman looks at her coldly, "go on then."

Melinda hesitates for a moment, looking from the child in her arms to the woman in front of her, "Would you like to hold her?"

Laura crosses her arms and the blonde woman continues, "You're her mother Laura."

"I have some business to attend to," the dark-haired woman replies, "I'll be back later."

She turns and leaves the room and Melinda looks down at the child whose crying has stopped and is looking at her with wide eyes, fingers entangled in some of her blonde curls.

"I will get you out of here," Melinda says quietly to the infant, "I promise."

London

Present Day

Lexi sits at the small dining room table, a folder lays open in front of her, with pages and photos expanding from it. She holds one photo in her hand and Ketch walks over to place a coffee mug on the table in front of her, careful to avoid any of the documents. Greyson and Ketch have been helping her for several weeks now tracking down leads on the witch Katrina and whoever it was who hired her to take Lexi. She'd lied to Dean when he'd asked if they'd had any luck. They had traced the lead back to a woman name Laura Addington.

"Who's this?" she asks looking at the photo of Melinda.

Greyson sits across the table from her, sipping from a coffee mug of his own, "Melinda Clarke."

"She was the one who dropped me at the orphanage?" the dark-haired girl questions.

"Yes," Ketch replies sitting down beside Lexi at the table, "Logan said she was sent by the British Men of Letters to obtain you, but she never returned."

"Obtain me? Why?"

Greyson shrugs his shoulders, "We don't know. There's no records of why."

"What does she have to do with Addington?" Lexi questions.

Ketch reaches over and pulls another photo out from the file folder as he begins, "Addington…"

He carefully slides the photo of a beautiful woman with dark green eyes and long black hair in front of Lexi as he continues, "is your mother."

Confusion and shock flash across the girl's face, as she reaches for the photo and stares at it, "What?"

There's a long moment of silence as Lexi processes this information and she shakes her head incredulously. "So, my bio-mom Laura, wants Michael…Dean, gone," Lexi looks at Ketch in disbelief, "what the hell is happening?"

"I'm as confused as you are dear," he replies.

"I should call them," she says quietly.

"No," Ketch interrupts her quickly, "you shouldn't. We need to wait until we know what Addington's plan is. Don't you think they have enough on their plates as it is?"

"And I want to know why the Men of Letters wanted to obtain you," Greyson adds, "whatever the reason, it can't be good."

"Where do we start?" Lexi questions Ketch.

He reaches over and pulls a piece of paper off the top of the stack, "I have an address for the son of Melinda Clarke."

"Ok," she replies, "Where?"

"Close to home actually," Ketch gives her a smile, "Salina, Kansas."

"Well that's not weird at all," Lexi replies sarcastically.

Saint Louis, MO

October 12th, 2000

A twelve-year old Lexi steps off the bright yellow school bus and slowly walks up concrete path to the small red house. To anyone else, it would appear warm and welcoming, but to her, it was cold and callous. Most of the kids in her class hated school, but for her it was an escape, it was this place she had to call home which she hated.

Today was the start of spring break, which meant a week stuck in this place and the dread weighs her down as she opens the front door.

"Alexandra," Lilian, her latest cream of the crop foster mother, calls from the kitchen.

She'd lost count on the number of foster homes she'd been in, but this one was by far the worst, even though she'd only been here two weeks. She slowly makes her way into the kitchen and pushes the stray strands of hair that have fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear.

"Yea ma'am," she says upon seeing the tall brunette woman in the blue dress. Lexi can smell the vodka from across the room.

"I went to gather your laundry this morning," the woman begins, anger apparent on her face, "you didn't make your bed."

"I'm sorry," the girl says quickly.

Lilian raises her right hand and comes down hard across the girl's cheek and Lexi clutches her face in pain as the woman states, "Don't let it happen again."

From outside the house, the scene is witnessed through the large kitchen window and someone lowers a camera before they turn and leave.

Later that night, Lexi sits at the desk in her room, looking in a small mirror, checking to see if there was a mark left from the slap earlier when she hears a small tap on her bedroom window. She leans over to look and sees a familiar face giving her a small smile.

Lexi stands up and walks over to open the window and the visitor doesn't enter the room, he just moves to sit on the windowsill.

"Peter," she acknowledges the older boy who looks to be anywhere from sixteen to eighteen.

"Wendy," he replies with a smirk at the nickname.

"You're late," she says as she pulls her desk chair over beside the window and sits down, folding her legs up under her.

"Sorry," he reaches over, offering the girl a Styrofoam cup, "I had to make a stop, but I brought you this."

Lexi accepts it with a little hesitation, "What is it?"

"Chocolate peanut butter milkshake," the boy replies, not telling her he had to hand deliver the photographs he'd taken earlier to child services.

She takes a sip from the straw and looks down at the dark brown wooden floorboards below her.

"Are you okay?" he questions quietly as he watches the girl.

"Always," she replies, giving a quick fake smile, "You know you show up when things are great."

"I'm serious," the boy says with concern apparent on his face.

"Then take me with you," Lexi looks at him with subtle contempt.

The boy with dirty blonde hair looks at her dejectedly, "You know I can't. My grandmother is trying, but…"

"You've been saying that for the past year," Lexi narrows her eyes at him, "what's your angle?"

"What?" he asks with confusion.

"I'm thankful," she begins quietly, as not to disturb the rest of the house, "you saved me that day on the street. Those guys would have killed me, but this coming around and finding me…" She places the milkshake down on the windowsill and stands up from the chair before she steps away from the window. "Foster home after foster home," Lexi continues, as she turns back to look at the boy who sits in her window, "I mean…at first, I thought it was nice, like you wanted to protect me, but now…" Lexi spreads her arms out beside her in frustration, "it's getting a little weird. It's been over a year, you keep saying your grandmother is trying to help get me out, but here I am. Is this a game for you, some twisted, perverted game? Are you trying to weasel your way into my pants or something?"

"No Alexandra," he says quickly, with a shake of his head, "God no…I would never do that to you."

Even at twelve, she isn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed by that statement. He is cute, boy band cute, no doubt about it. The kind of guy other girls her age talked about all day; they scribbled Mrs. Timberlake or Mrs. Carter all over their notebooks.

"Then why are you here Peter?" she questions him as she folds her arms across her chest.

He drops his head for a moment, then glances back up at her solemnly, "It's complicated."

A door slams from inside the house which causes them to look at each other in surprise as Lexi quickly moves to the window, "You have to go."

"I'll be back for you," Peter grabs the milkshake with one hand and Lexi's wrist with the other for a split second to garner her attention, "I promise."

"You better," she replies, then gives him a soft smile before she carefully pulls the window closed so it doesn't make any noise. She jerks her desk chair back to her desk and sits down as she pretends to do homework. The door to her bedroom jerks open and Lilian stands there for a moment, checking the room before she slams the door shut.

Salina, Kansas Present Day

Ketch reaches up and knocks on the door to the apartment while Lexi leans back against the wall, facing him. She's giving him a doubtful look as she folds her arms across her chest.

"What makes you think he even still lives here?" Lexi questions her friend as they hear a deadbolt being unlocked from inside.

"Yea," the man says as he cracks the door open, "can I help you?"

"We're looking for Evan Clarke," Ketch says, indicating himself and Lexi.

"Who's asking?" the guy questions defensively, peering through the crack at the two strangers.

"It's concerning his mother, Melinda Clarke," Ketch continues trying to remain civil, but Lexi slams her hand hard against the door, turning so she can see the man who is peering through the crack.

"Look," she says sharply, "are you Evan Clarke or not, because I don't have time for this shit."

The man's blue eyes look as if they recognize her for a moment, but he shakes it off, "give me a minute." He closes the door and Ketch looks at Lexi in exasperation at her outburst and she shrugs her shoulders.

After a few moments the door opens back up and a tall, beautiful blonde woman exits the apartment, purse and shoes in hand, walk of shame evident. Lexi cocks an eyebrow and gives Ketch a smirk as she enters the apartment. The dark-haired girl looks over to Evan then points back at the blonde who just left as she says, "Sorry for the intrusion."

"I doubt that. Now, what about my mother?" Evan questions from the small kitchenette area. "And who are you?"

Lexi takes note of his athletic figure in the dark jeans he's wearing, and the grey pocket t-shirt which fits just a little too snug around his shoulders and chest, but she doubts any woman in their right mind would complain. Suddenly she's reminded of all the layers she's accustomed to dealing with when it comes to the men in her life and realizes it's actually a blessing. This one-layer stuff is quite distracting. His hair is darker on the bottom, but lighter on the top and a bit on the longer side, not as long as Sam's though. He's also sporting a dark beard that would almost rival that of the younger Winchester's when he let his grow, not that she would ever tell Dean that.

"Historians," Ketch answers, since Lexi's not going to, "with The British Library."

Evan appears to be putting coffee grounds into his coffee maker, but quickly moves to pull out a small pistol from under the cabinet, pointing it at the two people standing across from him.

"British Men of Letters sounds more appropriate," his tone is laced with anger, "I'm not an idiot."

"Do I sound British?" Lexi looks annoyed, but she has her hands up, "Trust me, we're not with those assholes. We're hunters."

Evan eyes them suspiciously still, "Why do hunter's need information about my mom?"

"There was a child," Ketch begins carefully, "a child the Men of Letters sent your mother to obtain."

"Yea and," Evan says, still training the weapon on them.

"We just need to know why?" Lexi adds.

Evan slowly lowers the weapon and lays it on the bar in front of him, before he begins, "Because…my mother was a witch…they needed her to bind the child's powers before she brought her back to them."

"Powers?" the dark-haired girl questions, confusion apparent on her face.

"The child was a fourth generation natural," Evan says, "My mother was able to bind her powers, but she still died trying to protect her."

Lexi has grabbed the nearest chair to lean against, her legs feeling weak under her. The entire room seems larger now than it was when they first entered it and suddenly the voices of the men in the room with her seem so very distant and far away. Powers. Witch, I'm a friggin' witch, she thinks to herself.

"Do you know why the Men of Letters wanted the child?" Ketch questions, reaching over to place a reassuring hand at Lexi's elbow.

"No idea," Evan shrugs his shoulders, "what does it matter anyway? The girl died when she was twelve."

"What?" the dark-haired man asks in surprise at this comment.

"The child," the other man continues, "the Men of Letters had her killed. She's dead."

Ketch and Lexi immediately share a glance as Evan turns to pull a coffee mug from the shelf above his sink, and Lexi speaks up, her voice meeker than she prefers, "No…I'm not."

The mug slips from Evan's hand and shatters upon impact on the floor, he turns to look behind him at the young woman standing in his living room. Evan stares at her for a moment, anger flaring in his blue eyes.

"Get out!" he snarls at them as he raises his hand toward his door, causing it jerk open.

"Easy there," Ketch's eyes go wide in shock, the revelation Evan has powers made very obvious.

"I said get out," Evan repeats himself, using his hand to fling Ketch out of the door.

"Look," Lexi tries to bargain, she can see the extensive emotional state the man is in, "I just need answers…"

Evan walks the small distance separating him and the dark-haired girl until he's towering over her, but she doesn't back down, "I don't know who you are, but I watched Alexandra die when she was twelve. I was there when the car exploded, the British Men of Letters murdered her, and for you to show up at my door…"

"An explosion?" Lexi interrupts him and she takes a step back, "I was told my foster parents died in a car crash when I was twelve. Why were you there?"

Evan tilts his head slightly, unsure if he wants to answer her question, "My mother died protecting her. I felt like it was my job to protect her too, a way to honor my mother."

Lexi's staring at him and suddenly the piercing blue eyes don't belong to the man before her, they belong to the teenage boy sitting on her windowsill offering her a milkshake. She snaps back to the present and she's nauseous; he hasn't crossed her mind in over fifteen years. Lexi realizes she's still staring at him and she slowly covers her mouth with both hands as she turns away from him. Evan turns around still agitated and begins to walk back to the kitchenette, using his hand to fling his door shut, leaving Ketch outside of the apartment.

"Peter," the name slips from her lips quietly, stopping Evan dead in his tracks, "you're Peter Pan."

No one had ever called him by that name but her, it was the nickname she had given him years ago.

Evan slowly turns to face the girl, confusion replacing some of the anger as he says, "Wendy."

Lexi raises her eyebrows and gives a small, reassuring nod.

"You're alive," Evan nearly chokes on the statement.

Lexi nods her head once more, "I am."

Eighteen years of self-hatred for not protecting her comes boiling to the surface and Evan doesn't control himself. Lexi sees the mixture of relief and anger wash over the man's face and she takes a small step backwards as he jerks his hands sending a lamp crashing to the floor, while books and magazines from the end table beside the chair go flying across the room. Various other small objects vibrate off the shelves that line one wall of the apartment as the man's emotional outburst continues. Lexi ducks as a book sails past her head which scares her a little, after all, she's not used to dealing with this kind of environment and she quickly grabs the book angrily.

"Hey!" she yells as she throws the book back at Evan and he stops it with his hand, "Watch it!" She realizes what she's just done and has a split-second regret, because it's apparent he's a witch like his mother.

Evan drops the book onto the bar and closes his fists tightly, looking a little shameful, "Sorry. It's a lot to process."

"Really?!" She yells, unable to contain her outburst, "You just told me I'm a friggin' witch. That's a lot to process."

There's a small knock on the door, which is Ketch signaling he's still outside, and Lexi moves to open the door for him. The black-haired man adjusts his jacket as he walks back inside the apartment and looks over to Evan, "Are we all on the same page now?"

"The 'I'm alive and apparently, I'm a witch' page," Lexi says with a touch of sarcasm to Ketch.

"Fourth generation I believe," her friend corrects her.

The bearded man gives a single nod of his head as Lexi closes the door and a thought occurs to him, "Wait, how did you find me?"

"An old Men of Letters file," Lexi replies crossing her arms, "why?"

"They know your alive?" Evan asks, concern growing on his face.

Ketch looks over at Lexi, as he answers, "Of course, why?"

"We should go," Evan replies, "as soon as they found out you were alive, they've probably had someone watching you."

That would explain those surveillance photos, Lexi thinks to herself.

"I have a box of my mother's things in a storage unit about thirty minutes outside of town," Evan says, then looks over to Lexi, "I've never really gone through it, but I know there was a folder with your name on it."

"Let's go then," Ketch responds before he turns towards the door.

"Hold up," Lexi interrupts, "we're just supposed to trust Chris Halliwell?"

The bearded man looks a little offended by the Charmed reference, as Ketch turns back to look at Lexi, "The door isn't sound proof, I thought you knew him?"

"Yea," she begins with a tone of exasperation to her friend, "eighteen years ago. People change Ketch, hell, two years ago you I wouldn't have trusted you with a dog, much less my life."

"I'm standing right here," Evan says with annoyance raising his hand to signal his presence.

"Don't you know," Lexi continues her speech to Ketch, ignoring the other man's remark, "you don't trust the strange guy from your past who seems to have good intentions, especially when he has magic hands."

Ketch stands there for a moment in silence and then takes a deep breath before he pulls his pistol out of the shoulder holster under his jacket and holds it out for Evan to see as he glances over at the blue-eyed man with annoyance, "This is loaded with witch killing bullets by the way, if you're considering using those magic hands of yours again."

"Understood," Evan replies with a smirk, "keeping my magic hands to myself, not a problem, just keep psycho Sally there in check."

Lexi gives Ketch a death glare before she storms passed him to jerk the door open. He's holstering his pistol as Evan walks up, knowing Lexi's out of earshot he gives an exasperated sigh as he says, "That's easier said than done sometimes."

"It's number eleven Alexandra," Evan says as he climbs out of the car in front of the storage unit.

"Lexi," she corrects him, "or Wilson, please, no one calls me Alexandra." The three of them approach the unit with the number eleven on it and Evan pulls a key from his pocket to unlock the padlock. Once he slips off the padlock, he opens the door and flips on the light switch. Once the room is illuminated, it is evident the small unit has been ransacked.

"No!" Evan states, rushing over to a shelf and pulling an empty banker box from it, "son of a bitch!"

Lexi and Ketch follow cautiously behind him and she picks up a broken picture frame, in it a picture of Melinda and a little five-year-old Evan stare back at her and she gently lays it on the shelf beside her.

"When was the last time you were here?" she questions him quietly.

"Two days ago," Evan replies, then slings the empty box across the room in frustration.

"I'll go check the security footage," Ketch states before he turns to exit the unit.

"I'm sorry," Lexi says, "I did this."

"It's not your fault," he responds, picking up some photo albums from the floor.

"I kicked the hornet's nest," she replies.

Ketch is able to recognize two of the men on the security footage as former associates he used to work with. The three of them decide to stop at a small diner they passed on the way to the storage unit for food and to discuss their next steps. Lexi barely eats any of the burger she orders, but she does drink a couple of beers with the order of fries she snacks on, before she excuses herself from the table.

"I need to make a call," Ketch states as he too stands up to step away from the table, leaving Evan alone in the small diner.

Once outside, Ketch dials a number on his cell and places it up to his ear, "Hi, I don't have much time to explain, but we have a bit of a situation."

Lexi approaches the bathroom sink and notices the pretty blonde-haired woman who stands a few inches taller than her standing at the sink beside her re-applying a matte shade of red lipstick to her Kardashian looking lips.

"I saw you earlier," the woman states in recognition looking at Lexi in the mirror as she begins to wash her hands.

The dark-haired girl glances up to the mirror in confusion as the woman continues, "You came in with those two guys, the handsome one and the British one."

The blonde gives her a flirty smile as nudges Lexi's arm with her elbow, "Mmmm girl, I could take one off your hands if you'd like."

"Oh," Lexi laughs as she grabs a towel to dry her hands, "I better hold on to them for now."

The woman leans over close to Lexi and her face turns serious as she whispers in Lexi's ear, "Seduce Evan Clarke, play on his emotions Alexandra, make him fall for you."

Lexi has a dazed expression on her face as the woman whispers the order to her and blinks once before turning to exit the bathroom after the blonde finishes speaking. The woman turns back to the mirror with a malevolent grin and transforms from the pretty Kardashian type blonde-haired woman into Laura Addington.

"So, when I make you kill him," Laura states to herself in the mirror, "It'll be more fun to watch."

Once back at the table, Lexi looks around the small restaurant, "Where's Ketch?"

"Oh," Evan replies, "he said he had to make a phone call."

Lexi nods her head then smirks to the man across from her, "So, there's a blonde in the bathroom…she basically wants to take you home."

Evan raises a curious eyebrow, "Oh really?"

"I grabbed her number," the girl replies, "just in case, I know you like blondes."

Evan leans forward slightly, "I don't, actually."

"If you say so," Lexi shrugs her shoulders as if she doesn't believe him.

"Do you trust anyone?" Evan shakes his head at her in disbelief.

"The list is small," she responds with a smirk.

"You used to trust me," he replies sincerely, "a long time ago."

Lexi thinks on those words for a moment, that was a lifetime ago. She swallows the lump that forms in her throat and she stands up from the table, "I'll be outside."

Evan watches her walkaway, then he somberly pulls his wallet from his back pocket to pay for their food.

Lexi has taken up position on the swing set across the street from the small diner. She hears the chime of the bell on the door indicating that someone has either entered or exited the building, but she doesn't look up. She continues to idly swing back and forth, letting her boots drag through the pea gravel on each backwards pass. After a moment, a Styrofoam milkshake container appears in her line of sight and she slows the swing to a stop, looking up at Evan who gives her a tiny, apologetic smile, "Chocolate peanut butter."

"You remembered," she looks surprised as she takes the container and takes a sip from the straw.

"Was it something I said in there?" Evan questions as he sits down on the swing next to her.

Lexi looks over at him, fiddling with the straw in her cup, "It's dumb, really."

She holds his gaze for a moment, then looks back down to her feet. He furrows his brow and grabs the chains of his swing in each hand and turns it to face her, "Tell me."

"You were the first," she begins without looking up, her arms are wrapped around the chains of her swing, "you were the first boy who broke my heart."

Evan has a look of surprise at this revelation, "What?"

"You promised to come back for me," she replies without looking at him, "and you didn't."

"I thought you died," he says with a touch of exasperation.

"I didn't know that then," Lexi looks at him innocently, "You spent over a year in and out of my life being the guy who would sneak into my room at night just to check on me."

"I never snuck into your room," Evan corrects her, "I always stayed outside the window."

"And then there's that," she continues, "You were the coolest guy, super cute, and you were always checking on me, so I just thought that…and when I brought it up, you shut me down so hard. I never got over that, maybe that's why I like to be in control now; I don't want to feel that way again."

"Alexandra," Evan begins softly, as he sits there staring at her in shock at this confession. Lexi looks back down as he continues, "You were twelve and I was seventeen, that five-year difference meant a lot back then. You were just a kid."

The dark-haired girl cuts her eyes over to him as she responds, "I'm not a kid anymore."

What are you doing? She thinks to herself, stop it, you're basically throwing yourself at him. This is not who you are. You are stronger than this.

"Trust me," he leans closer to her with a flirty grin, "I've noticed."

Lexi turns her swing sideways to face him, some unnatural force inside her feels as if it's making her body move against her will. I mean really, she thinks to herself, it could be worse. At least he's attractive, she carefully moves closer until her nose is almost touching his, she bites her bottom lip seductively and Evan takes a deep breath before he whispers, "Don't do this, unless it's what you want."

The dark-haired girl hesitates for a moment, before she lays her forehead against his, closing her eyes. After a few seconds she lifts her feet and allows the swing to jerk her away from him.

"Sorry, I feel like that was a little slutty of me," she apologizes standing up quickly, "I don't know where that came from. That was weird."

Evan raises a curious eyebrow as Lexi continues, "Where's Ketch?" The blue-eyed man shrugs his shoulders as another voice interrupts them from behind Lexi.

"Ketch," the voice begins, and Lexi turns to see Greyson standing behind her, "is back in London."

Was Greyson the call Ketch had to make, she thinks to herself and suddenly feels betrayed.

"What?" Lexi questions him in surprise as Evan stands up quickly, "Why?"

"We need to talk Lexi," Greyson says then glances at Evan, "alone."

"I don't think so pal," Evan remarks.

The dark-haired girl looks over at the blue-eyed man as she folds her arms across her chest, "Excuse you, I speak for myself."

The smug look on Greyson's face drops as Lexi turns her glare back to him, "I don't think so. He goes where I go."

"How long?" Lexi's voice was low but angry as she looks across to Greyson.

The blonde-haired man looks defeated as he sees the pain in her eyes, "Lexi…I'm sorry, I…"

"HOW LONG?!" She yells at him, slamming her fist down on the small table beside her.

"It was after you met," Logan answers, "after you left London the first time."

Lexi looks over at the blonde headed woman, shaking her head in disgust, "I thought we were friends. I thought I could trust you."

"It was the only way to protect you," Greyson says quietly, "they would have sent someone else after you if Logan wasn't the one monitoring you."

"You've been lying to me this whole time," the dark-haired girl responds, the resentment inside her building, "you knew who I was, you knew everything about me…YOU KNEW AND YOU LIED!"

"We need to go Lexi," Logan urges her, "Laura escaped two days ago. She's coming for you."

Lexi shakes her head slowly, "Like I'm supposed to trust you now."

Greyson reaches to take her hand, "Lexi please…"

She jerks her hand away from him, a tear slipping down her cheek, "Don't…don't you dare touch me."

Lexi turns and jerks the motel door open, glancing at Evan for a brief moment, "Let's go."

"They're not going to let you leave," Logan states from behind Lexi.

The dark-haired girl looks back over her shoulder at her former friend, "We'll see about that."

Evan climbs into the passenger seat and looks over at Lexi cautiously as she throws the car into reverse, she reaches over to put her hand on the side of the passenger seat. She looks over her shoulder to check behind her then she slams the gas pedal into the floor. The man braces himself as he watches her turn back, slamming the gear shifter in drive as she spins the steering wheel flawlessly around, executing a J-turn. She can't help but smile to herself, knowing Dean would be proud to have seen that, after all, he'd spent almost an entire Saturday teaching her.

Lexi pulls the car out onto the road only to slam on the brakes as her headlights illuminate four dark SUV's blocking the roadway. She counts eight men, each standing on either side of the vehicles, weapons drawn and aimed at them. The dark-haired girl grips the steering wheel with both hands but doesn't look away from the scene in front of her as she speaks, "Hey Ev."

"Yea," he's also sizing up their current situation.

"You can use those magic hands now," she says.

"Thought you'd never ask," Evan remarks with a smirk as he raises his hands up and uses them to slide two of the SUV's apart, wide enough for Lexi to drive through and she slams on the gas. The blue-eyed man quickly disarms the men left standing with a wave of his hand as they try and take shots at the car as it blows past them.

They drive in silence for a while in the dark before Evan breaks the silence, "I'm sorry."

"That list of people I trust just got a lot smaller," she comments, not taking her eyes off the road.

The screen on her dash lights up: Incoming Call: Dean W.

She reaches over and pushes the green answer button on the screen and says hesitantly, "Hey Dean."

"Lex," his tone is stern, indicating he knows something is up, "what the hell is going on?"

She glances over to Evan as she speaks, "I may need you to elaborate?"

"Ketch left me a voicemail earlier saying he didn't have time to explain, but that there was a situation," Dean begins.

So, Ketch didn't call Greyson, he called Dean, Lexi thinks to herself, so he didn't betray her after all.

"Then I hear him say 'What the bloody hell Moore?'," the older brother continues and Lexi can't help but smirk at Dean's British impression of Ketch, "then the phone cuts off and I've tried to call him back three times and I just keep getting sent to voicemail. Aren't you with him?"

"I was," she replies, "but yea, I'm pretty sure Greyson took him back to London."

"Wait your stateside?" Dean questions incredulously.

"Yea, long story, I promise I'll explain later," Lexi says, "but unless I tell you otherwise, don't trust Greyson or Logan."

"Got it, that guy was a dick anyway," he responds, and she can hear the concern in his voice, "Lex, are you good?"

"Always," she answers, "I'll call you later."

"You better."

"Bye D."

"Bye."

Evan waits for a moment before he speaks, "Friend of yours."

Lexi smiles warmly and it's the first time he's seen her actually smile, "My best friend, he and his brother Sam, they gave me a family, something I never really had before."

"That's good," the man replies with a smile, "Happy looks good on you."

Lexi and Evan are walking up the front walk to a small house with blue siding when the front door suddenly jerks open and a young woman looks at them angrily, "Hurry up and get inside."

The dark-haired girl can't help but notice the blonde mohawk the other woman is sporting, along with a lip ring and dark eye liner, which just adds to her 'don't mess with me' vibe. She has on black cotton shorts, which only accentuate her long tan legs. Lexi wants to compliment her Guns n Roses tee-shirt, but she thinks it's probably best to keep her mouth shut for now.

"Sorry V," Evan says as they make their way inside the house, "I wasn't sure where else we should go. Alexandra, this is V."

"Lexi is fine," the dark-haired girl corrects him with a smile to the woman, noticing the dark purple stud on the side of her nose.

The woman nods but doesn't seem overly friendly as she points to the couch in the room, "I put some pillows and blankets over there, bathroom is down that hallway."

"Thanks," Evan responds, "I need one more thing though."

"You know it doesn't always work like that," V looks at him with slight frustration.

"Will you try," the blue-eyed man responds, "please."

Lexi is sitting in the middle of the tiny living room, V sits directly in front of her, both women sit with their legs crossed under them and three white candles are lit and sitting in the floor between them. Evan sits on the edge of the coffee table overlooking them.

"Psychic huh?" Lexi says quietly to the other woman.

"I prefer the term clairvoyant," V replies, "the future is my niche. Sometimes I see things without having to be near someone, especially people I know."

"One night," Evan says, "I'm at bar and V calls me, tells me the redhead I'm talking to is married, and to leave, because she just saw a glimpse of my future and it involved her husband walking in on us the next morning and killing me."

"True test of friendship there, because she was hot," V smirks to Lexi then continues, "Now, for this to work, I need you to open your mind to me Lexi, no walls, understand?"

The dark-haired girl takes a deep breath, not liking the idea of letting a stranger in her mind, but she glances over at Evan, "Understood."

V takes both of Lexi's hands in hers and both women close their eyes. V's face looks as if she in distress as her eye lids flutter and after a few moments she jerks her hands away from Lexi, looking at the dark-haired girl in anguish, "Oh no."

"What did you see?" Evan questions his friend.

"Her death," V responds quietly, then looks over to her friend in horror, "Evan you kill her."

The shock is apparent on Evan's face at her statement and Lexi sits there in silence staring blankly into the flames of the candles in front of her.

"No," Evan responds quickly, "that can't be right."

"When have I ever been wrong?" V sounds offended, "Someone named Laura wants her with her powers unbound, but you said Laura can't have that type of control and there is no other way."

Evan looks confused and he looks over to see Lexi looking up at him. He can see the fear she's trying to keep hidden, a lot has changed in eighteen years, but that look hasn't. Evan shakes his head, "No, we'll figure something out."

"There may not be another choice," Lexi says stoically.

Later that night, Evan rolls over onto his back on the floor, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, sleep evades him with his mind racing over the evening's earlier events. He feels a pair of eyes on him and glances over to the couch beside him and sees Lexi is curled up on her side staring at him.

"Can't sleep?" he states the obvious.

"Tell me about your mom," she says quietly.

He rubs an exhausted hand across his face, "I don't remember much, mostly stories my grandmother would tell me. She loved Elton John, which drove my grandmother crazy at the time but growing up she would play my mom's old Elton vinyl's whenever she would start missing her, which was often. She would tell me that my mom always saw the good in people, even when others didn't."

"Did your grandmother ever talk about what happened to her?" Lexi asks the question hesitantly.

"Not really," he responds, "all she ever told me was that she had given my mother a resurrection charm before she left for London that day and how angry she was that she hadn't used it."

The words resurrection charm rings a bell in Lexi's mind and Rowena's name comes to her and a sudden realization hits her, "That's it."

She sits up quickly and Evan looks at her in surprise, slowing pushing himself up from the floor as Lexi continues, "Laura wants to unbind my powers. What if we beat her to it?"

"How?" he questions her.

"I don't know," Lexi replies, "but I know someone who might."

"Lexi dear," Rowena sounds a bit groggy in the phone, "this better be important."

"It is," the girl replies into the phone in her hand, she has it on speaker and is holding it between her and Evan, who has moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table across from Lexi, "Hypothetically speaking, if a witch's powers were bound, how does one go about unbinding them?"

There's a momentary pause on the other end of the line, "What's this about dear?"

Lexi can hear the trepidation in her friend's voice, "I promise to explain everything, but it's very important Rowena, you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't."

The woman sighs audibly, "The only way to unbind their powers is through a specific ritual."

"Do you know it?" Lexi questions trying not to sound eager.

Another momentary pause, "Do you have a pen?"

Evan scrambles on the table for something to write with and finds a pencil with a notepad as Lexi speaks, "Yes, go ahead."

Rowena gives Lexi the necessary information and Evan writes everything down as the woman speaks through the phone. Once she finishes speaking, Rowena's tone of voice changes, "Lexi dear, have you talked with Samuel?"

The dark-haired girl looks up at Evan and pushes the button to take Rowena off of speaker and puts the phone up to her ear, "No, I spoke to Dean earlier tonight. What's going on?"

"Michael's gone," Rowena says calmly, "Dean suffered some major head trauma and he escaped. He…he convinced me to let him inside and I did, but he still killed some of the hunters in the bunker."

"Who?" Lexi questions solemnly and Rowena's voice seems distant as she sadly names them off to Lexi.

"Jack was able to defeat him though," the woman continues, "Michael is gone for good this time."

"How are they?" she asks wondering why Dean hadn't said anything before.

"I can't quite get a read-on Dean," Rowena says, "but I know Samuel's taking it hard."

"I should be there," she says more to herself than anyone else.

"Why aren't you?" Rowena's tone isn't hurtful, she sounds genuinely concerned.

"It's complicated," Lexi responds, "I promise, I will explain everything later."

After she ends the call with Rowena, she holds the phone in her hand for a moment debating on whether to call Sam or not. I need to finish this situation with Laura first. If Michael is gone, she has no reason to be after Dean at this point. She'll only want me and if I have my witchy powers unleashed, I'll have the advantage.

"Everything okay?" Evan's question breaks her train of thought.

"Yea," she replies, nodding at the notepad, "You think you can do this?"

"This will be easy," he taps the notepad on his knee, "are you sure you want to do this?"

"What?" she questions.

"There's no going back," Evan responds, "once we do this, everything changes."

"I get it," she holds her hands up, wiggling her fingers, "powers."

"With great power comes great responsibility," the man says his tone serious.

"Spider-man," Lexi furrows her eyebrows, "really?"

"It's all I could think of," he shrugs his shoulders, as Lexi stands up from the couch, "are you sure you don't want to call your friends, talk this over with them."

Lexi starts to walk toward the hallway but stops at his statement and turns slightly to look at him, "I'm not looking for forgiveness, and I'm way past asking for permission."

She turns to continue towards the bathroom as Evan raises a curious eyebrow, "Was that Captain A…"

"Damn straight," Lexi calls over her shoulder without turning around.

"Language," Evan smirks as she disappears into the bathroom.

Lexi sits in the middle of an elaborate circle lined with candles that Evan had drawn in the middle of V's living room floor; he made the comment she'd make him clean it up later while he was drawing it. Lexi gives a final nod to Evan before she begins the incantation, which she repeats twice before taking the small knife in her right hand and cutting a small incision in her neck.

Evan watches in awe as purple energy pours from the cut and illuminates what appears to be shackles surrounding the girl. The room begins to shake as blood pours from Lexi's eyes, and each shackle slowing begins to shatter. Once they're completely gone, the blood from her eyes disappears, the cut in her neck heals, and all the candles surrounding her are blown out by a sudden breeze.

When Lexi opens her eyes to look at him, they're glowing a bright blue that slowing fades away and she takes a deep breath as the bedroom door to their right jerks open and V looks at them angrily, "What the hell have you done?"

"Trying to change the future," Lexi states from her place on the floor.

"No shit," V responds, then she looks over at Evan, "it's changed alright. She lives, but now several other's die, including you."

Lexi looks at her confused, "What? What do you mean several others?"

V looks back down to her, "I don't know, I didn't recognize them. Two guys, one tall with long hair and a woman with blonde hair, all of them around you."

Lexi feels nauseous, "When?"

V looks over at the clock on her wall, seeing that it is two in the morning, "Today."

Lexi quickly stands up, her mind racing, "I should…I should go."

"What?" Evan questions, "Wait a minute, just calm down."

"NO!" Lexi says louder than she means to, "I'm going to go, you need to stay here."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he responds.

"She literally just said everyone around me dies today," Lexi says in frustration as she walks towards the front door, "stay away from me. Please. I don't want your blood on my hands."

Lexi walks out the door and V grabs her friend's arm as he starts to chase after her, "Evan, let her go." He turns and sees the concern on his friend's face, and he takes a deep breath as he glances back at the closed door.

Lexi sits in her car as the sun comes up over the horizon, I just have to stay away from everyone today. No problem. She looks down at her hands, she doesn't feel any different after the unbinding ritual, Maybe I don't have magical powers after all, maybe everyone was wrong about me this whole time.

Her phone rings, and she looks down to see Dean's name on the caller ID. It seems a little early for him to be calling and she hesitantly answers, "Hey."

"Hi sweetheart," a woman's face says from the other end of the phone and she knows without question it's Laura.

"Where's Dean?" Lexi questions angrily.

"Oh, he's here with me," Laura responds, "So is little brother. I'll text you the address. It goes without saying that if you don't show up, I'll kill them both."

The phone clicks and angry tears begin to stream down Lexi's face as she starts her car.

Lexi parks her car beside the brick building and walks around the front of it to see an abandoned parking lot, a couple old cars scattered about it. She sees Sam and Dean both standing about six feet from each other, it apparent they're being held in place by an invisible force. She's also surprised to see Greyson and Logan are standing close to them as well, both of them in the same situation.

Laura comes walking out from behind a van and past where Sam stands to smile at the girl who's just joined her party, "My little girl is all grown up."

Lexi shakes her head balling her fists up at her sides, "Don't…don't you try to play the mom card now you psycho."

"Oh, you're angry with me," Laura feigns sadness, "why? Because I kidnapped your friends? They're not your friends sweetie, they lied to you, remember?"

She points a finger over at Greyson and Logan who look ashamed at her statement and Laura continues pointing over to the Winchesters, "And let's not get started on these two, they're holding you back."

Lexi doesn't respond, the anger inside her building as Laura says, "You were meant for greatness darling and the life you've been living…it's pathetic really."

"Leave her alone," Sam snarls to the woman and Laura turns to him, using her hand to throw him back against the van. Lexi can see pain shoot through his body from the impact as Laura begins to move her hand again.

"STOP!" Lexi yells, gaining Laura's attention in time to see Lexi throw her hand up in her direction, sending a shot of energy at her, knocking the witch back across the concrete and causing all the windows in the cars to shatter around them.

Everyone looks at Lexi in disbelief as Laura begins to laugh maniacally as she stands back up, "Look at you. You unbound your powers; did Evan help you with that?"

Lexi just stares at her without responding and Laura continues, "He did, didn't he? Well this makes things more interesting."

The dark-haired witch looks over to Greyson and Logan and then back to Lexi giving her a direct order, "Kill the blonde girl."

"No!" Greyson yells.

Lexi's eyes go wide in surprise at the statement and she realizes she can't control her hands as they raise up and shoot a blast of energy straight into Logan's chest. Greyson yells out in agony as he watches his sister's body crumple to the ground. Sam and Dean watch the scene unfold in horror and see the sadness on Lexi's face at what she's just done.

"How could you?!" Greyson screams at Lexi.

"No," she says quietly, "I didn't want to do that."

Laura flings her hand at Greyson, knocking his head hard against the car behind him, rendering him unconscious, "Men, so dramatic."

"Why," Lexi asks in confusion, "why are you doing this?"

"Because it's fun. I've been in a cell for almost thirty years, I've been a bit bored," the witch says with a smile.

"Lexi," Sam says carefully as he begins to walk towards her, "this isn't you."

"I know," she says nodding her head, "I can't stop though. There's something wrong."

"We'll fix it," he reassures her with a half-smile.

"Fight him," Laura orders and Lexi shakes her head, her face is wrought with guilt as she rushes towards Sam, slamming her right fist into his jaw.

Dean starts to pull his pistol from the back of his jeans, but Laura flings it away with her hand and pins him back against the car with a fling of her wrist.

"Lexi stop," Dean calls out and for a moment Lexi stops her assault and looks over at Dean in fear.

"No Alexandra," Laura interrupts, "continue." The dark-haired girl starts her assault on the younger brother again.

"What did you do to her?" Dean snarls at the witch as she moves closer to him.

"Melinda may have bound her powers," Laura begins, "but I cursed her with obedience as soon as she was born."

Dean tilts his head curiously waiting for the woman to explain and she does, "The curse of obedience, you've never heard of it? To think you call yourself a hunter. Once cursed, you obey every order given to you by the one who cursed you."

Sam is trying to defend himself against Lexi's onslaught, refusing to fight back, as Laura leans in closer to Dean with a mischievous smile, "Or the one who's love is pure and true, or some stupid Disney princess shit like that."

She sees the realization in his eyes and Dean starts to smile as he starts to speak, but Laura holds a finger to her lips and says, "Ssshhhh, sweet prince. I don't think so."

When Dean tries to speak again, no sound escapes and panic is evident on his features as he realizes that Sam's voice is gone as well when his brother looks at him in fear before Lexi does a low leg sweep and takes the younger brother's feet out from under him, knocking him on his back.

"KILL HIM!" Laura's voice booms from the distance and Lexi looks down to the man on the concrete below her.

Lexi sees blood coming from a cut she caused during their fight and watches it roll down the side of his head. She can see the fear in Sam's eyes upon hearing Laura's order and she closes her eyes for a moment as tears begin to stream down her face. She's fighting everything in her body, keeping her hands balled tightly into fists at her side; she falls to her knees beside the man.

The dark-haired girl looks over to the car Dean is pinned against, his face anxious and blood red as he yells, but no sound escapes his mouth. His eyes meet Lexi's and she feels her heart shatter from the hatred she sees in them. The inner struggle is evident as her hand moves, slowly and trembling, towards Sam; her nose is starting to bleed from the force with which she's fighting against the obedience curse.

"I'm sorry," she whimpers as the tears fall, "I can't stop it."

Sam reaches up with one hand and cups the side of her face, brushing away a tear as one slips down his own cheek, mouthing the words 'I know' and giving her a small comforting nod before he closes his eyes.

"LEX," a voice from behind her yells, "STOP!"

The force inside her disappears and she turns in time to see Evan step out from beside the building, he has a pistol trained on Laura and he takes a shot quickly. Laura looks from Lexi to Evan with surprise, then clutches the bleeding hole in her chest as she falls to her knees. His gun apparently loaded with witch-killing bullets.

"You," she spits at the man holding the pistol.

"Surprise," Evan's words are sharp as he moves closer to the witch, "that was for her."

He nods his head toward the dark-haired girl on the ground then continues, "This is for my mom."

Evan takes another shot and a dark red hole forms in the center of Laura's forehead and she limply falls backward.

The force holding Dean against the car releases him and Lexi collapses onto Sam's chest, tears of relief wash over her, and he finally exhales as he rests one arm across the girl's back while he moves his other hand to rub the side of his head.

"Sammy," Dean's voice cracks as he calls out from the ground beside the car as he begins to compose himself in order to stand up.

"I'm okay," Sam calls out to his brother, and the girl moves back to sit on the concrete so Sam can stand up and he goes over to check on his brother.

She can't help but notice Dean doesn't make eye contact with her and she silently wipes away the tears from her face. An outstretched hand appears in front of her and she looks up to see the man it belongs to staring at her, his face solemn. She takes the hand and Evan pulls her to her feet and watches as she dusts her jeans off.

"I told you to stay away," Lexi says quietly.

"I know," he replies, "I don't listen very well."

"Thanks," Lexi glances over to see the two brothers checking on one another and she looks back up at Evan with a smile, "Did you call me Lex?"

He laughs with a shake of his head, before a voice from across the lot is heard, "You're the reason she's dead."

Lexi and Evan turn to see Greyson walking towards them, he looks frazzled and angry as he pulls a pistol from the waistband of his jeans and points it at the man standing beside Lexi. She knows Greyson's pistol should be loaded with witch-killing bullets.

"Whoa!" Dean announces, as Sam glances over to Lexi in concern.

Being a witch is still new to Lexi so using her powers doesn't occur to her, being a hunter comes naturally and she just instinctively takes a step to her left, keeping her arms out to her side, putting her body between Evan and the gun; hoping Greyson wouldn't shoot her.

"Greyson, wait," she begins to say, trying to talk him off this ledge, but the deafening sound of the pistol being fired startles everyone, even Greyson himself looks shocked to see Lexi sharply inhale and stumble back into Evan.

Evan catches her as she starts to fall backwards. "Lexi," his voice is shaking as he drops to his knees with her, but she doesn't respond. She's gone.

"LEX!" Dean's voice breaks the silence surrounding them, as the older brother appears on the other side of them. He pulls Lexi to him, angrily shoving Evan backward as he mutters, "No, no, no."

Sam staggers in his steps when he's close enough to realize she's gone and he turns menacingly towards Greyson, "You son of a bitch!" The younger brother storms across the empty lot and sees the gun fly out of the blonde-haired man's hand, not knowing how and frankly not caring. The anger inside flows through him as he comes across with his right fist connecting hard with the side of Greyson's jaw, knocking him to the ground.

Evan was responsible for jerking the gun from his hand, and he's coming up behind the younger brother now, anger evident on his face as well. He jerks Greyson back to a standing position with the wave of his hand and he comes in with an undercut to Greyson's stomach then another punch to the face which once again knocks him to the concrete.

Sam stands there, still a bit surprised at the revelation of Evan being a witch also, having just watched him move a grown man with just the flick of his wrist. Evan glances over at the younger Winchester and both of them stand just a little bit straighter, sizing each other up, and giving nods of understanding.

"Sammy," Dean's voice is cracking a bit as he calls out to his brother.

Both men turn their attention back to the oldest Winchester as they move quickly back to where he's still kneeling on the ground. Sadness evident on each man's face as they look down at the lifeless body of the girl.

One of them barely knew her, but yet he felt so connected to her even though he hadn't seen her for nearly twenty years. To know her, was to love her. He thought this chapter of his life was just beginning, how could it already be over?

One of them was already more broken than he wanted to admit and looking down at her just reminds him how fragile life really is. She was his sister; she was the one who could make him laugh when things started to become more than he could handle on his own. How is he supposed to do this without her?

One of them allows the tears to fall from his eyes, because she was his best friend. The one who knew him better than he knew himself, the one he could confide in about anything, she was his person. He never wanted this, he never wanted her, but she scaled those walls he'd built up. This is his breaking point. How is he supposed to let go?

Lexi finds herself sitting on a park bench by a beautiful lake, the sun is shining brightly. The view is breathtaking and for a moment she forgets where she is until a voice beside her speaks.

"Amazing isn't it."

Lexi glances beside her and sees the blonde-haired woman from the photo: Melinda Clarke. The dark-haired girl stares at her in disbelief as Melinda glances over to her with a warm smile, "Hello Alexandra."

"Hi," Lexi replies, shock evident on her face.

Melinda reaches over and cups the side of Lexi's face proudly as a tear slips down her cheek. She isn't sure why she's overcome with emotion at the woman's presence. Maybe it's because this person had cared more for her than her own biological mother had, or maybe it's a slight familiarity to another blonde-haired mother figure in her life, or maybe it's both.

"You saved me," the girl says curiously, "why? Why me?"

The blonde smiles again, "Sweet, sweet Alexandra, there's so much good inside of you. I knew it from the moment I saw you, and there are more bad witches in this world than there are good."

"But I was just a baby," Lexi says, confusion in her voice, "and Evan…he needed you."

Melinda's smile falters at his name and sadness graces her features, "I knew Evan would be okay, he needed you more than he needed me. I had to save you, in order to save him."

Lexi tilts her head in slight confusion at her statement and Melinda smiles, "So, you two found each other?"

"Yea," the girl answers hesitantly.

'And I'm already dead,' she thinks to herself, 'I just thought the Winchesters were a hazardous relationship to have in my life.'

"I hope he's doing well," the blonde replies.

"I don't really know him," Lexi gives her a small smile, "but I think he takes after you."

"I'm glad," Melinda says, then pats Lexi's knee lovingly, "It's almost time for you to be getting back. Do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Tell Evan I love him very much," the blonde begins, "and that I said how wonderful life is while he's in the world."

Lexi catches the Elton John song reference and smiles before a thought crosses her mind, "Wait, he said his grandmother gave you a resurrection charm when you left that day. Why didn't you use it?"

Melinda's posture straightens up a little bit as her face lights up and she gives Lexi a quick wink, "Because I knew someone needed it more than I did."

"Let me try to bring her back."

Dean wasn't one to trust strangers, especially witches, but that phrase alone was enough to get Evan's foot in the door. Evan had driven Lexi's car, following the black Impala back to some place the other two men had kept referring to earlier as 'the bunker'.

Sam kicks the door open to the infirmary room and carries Lexi's lifeless body over to the bed, carefully laying her down on the mattress, while Dean shows Evan to the storage room for supplies. He pauses for a moment, brushing hair out of her face, and his features falter for a moment as he allows the pain to get the best of him again. He runs both hands over his face and regains his composure the best he can, turning to go in search of his brother.

He finds Dean standing in the kitchen, phone to his ear, looking very impatient and furious, and after a beat he throws the cell phone angrily against the opposite wall, shattering it instantly, "DAMMIT!"

"Still no answer," Sam says solemnly, knowing his brother had been desperately trying to contact both Castiel and Jack with no luck, as well as Rowena.

The only person he'd spoken with was Jody right after everything happened, completely by mistake, he had assumed it was Castiel calling him back and answered without looking at his caller ID:

"Cas, Lexi's…" he hesitates a moment, "Lex's gone, and we need Jack…we need him to try and bring her back."

There was silence on the other end of the line, then Jody's voice breaks a little as she says, "She's gone?"

Sam and Dean exchange 'oh shit' glances at each other, as Sam carries the dark-haired girl's body to the Impala.

They both knew it was only a matter of time before Jody came barging into the bunker. Dean walks over to the sink, keeping his back to his brother. He's barely keeping it together and he knows right now he needs to be alone.

"Go check on the witch or warlock or whatever the hell he is will you?" Dean doesn't look at his brother when he speaks.

Sam understands the meaning behind the request, and he turns to leave the kitchen, giving his brother some time. Dean contemplates praying to Chuck, but he's not helped the last few times he's called out to him. He closes his eyes tightly trying to hold back the overwhelming emotion which makes his knees weak. A few tears slip past as he sinks to his knees in the kitchen floor, bringing his hands to his head in frustration. After a few moments, he lifts his head, staring at the ceiling, not having heard the person walk into the room behind him.

"What did you do?" A familiar, but breathless voice questions.

Dean twists his body around to find Lexi standing just a few feet behind him, she's gingerly touching the blood-soaked shirt she's still wearing, and she glances up at him in confusion as she continues her tone slightly harsh, "If you made a deal…I swear to God…" He's on his feet as she's speaking, a smile of relief creeping back on his face at the anger in her words.

"I didn't," he says, closing the distance between them. Lexi can see the tears in his eyes and feels a tinge of guilt for her tone. "Thought crossed my mind," he continues as he wraps his arms around her, effortlessly lifting her off the floor and she feels the quick kiss on her forehead.

"Dean," she whispers sadly, cupping his face in her hands as she brushes away the remaining tears with her fingers and thumbs. He closes his eyes as she does, but not before she sees the pain there; He watched me die. She can't imagine what he'd felt, what he's feeling.

"I'm sorry," she says and without hesitating leans down to brush her lips across his. It wasn't a kiss brought on by passion or attraction, nor did it linger for long. It was a small, fleeting moment of love and comfort, but neither could deny the intensity behind it as she pulls away, her eyes landing on his for a brief second. Lexi quickly moves up to kiss his forehead and then pulls his head to her chest as she lays her cheek against the top of his hair.

"Lex," Sam's voice is barely audible from the kitchen doorway, but she glances back over her shoulder to see the look of relief wash over the younger brother's face as he makes his way into the kitchen.

"Hey Sam," the dark-haired girl gives him a small smile as Dean places her back on the floor in time for his brother to envelope her in a hug. He holds her for a bit longer than he normally would, but he'd just lost her and if he was being honest with himself, he was a little scared to let her go again. Losing the other hunters had taken its toll on him and losing one of his closest friends was almost more than the man could take.

After a few moments he does pull back with a smile on his face, "It worked."

"What?" she questions searching his face, unsure what he's meaning.

"The spell," Sam continues, "that Evan did to bring you back."

"Evan's here?" Lexi looks at him in surprise, the name bringing back a memory.

"He wasn't in the room when you woke up?" Dean questions and Lexi shakes her head.

The brothers share a look of concern.

"If it wasn't him," Sam begins, confusion on his face, "what brought you back?"

Lexi looks between the two of them, remembering what had at first felt like a far away dream when she'd woke up, but now was beginning to feel like more than that. She takes a deep breath before she says quietly, "I think I know."

Lexi manages to find a burgundy t-shirt in a basket Sam insists are clean clothes and would contain some of Mary's things before she makes her way into the storage room. She sees Evan frantically searching drawers, a small pile of things he's gathered lay on top of cabinet. She watches him for a moment before she clears her throat and he turns quickly at the sound. He looks at her in disbelief for a moment before he carefully takes a step towards her.

"You died," he says hesitantly, not sure how it's even possible she's standing there.

Lexi shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, "I walked it off."

He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at her disapprovingly.

The girl takes a deep breath before dropping the information she has, "I saw your mom."

Evan's brow furrows after he registers her statement, "What?"

"When I died," she continues, moving closer to the storage cabinet, which he's now using to support himself with one hand, "I saw your mom."

"Really?"

Lexi nods her head, "The resurrection charm your grandmother gave her…" The girl takes her finger and points it at herself, and suddenly, everything makes sense to him. The charm is what brought Lexi back.

"Whoa," Evan replies turning to look at the supplies he has gathered on the cabinet, "that explains a lot."

Lexi nods her head quietly and stands there for a few moments in silence with him before she speaks again.

"This looks like some serious spell work," Lexi points at the ingredients.

Evan gives her a sidelong glance, "Well, you did die."

He stares at her and she can see the emotions waging war behind his eyes. She tries to think of a witty comeback, but words evade her, and she has to break the stare by glancing back down at the ingredients. She picks up a small bundle of white sage to toy with in order to keep her hands and mind occupied.

"Did she say anything else?" he asks after a moment.

"That she loves you very much," Lexi says, which makes him smile, "oh, and to tell you, how wonderful life is while you're in the world."

The smile fades away, sadness replacing it briefly and she panics, "What's wrong? Did I say right?"

He nods his head as he adds quietly, "She used to sing that song to me all the time."

They stand there in silence for a second before Lexi says with uncertainty, "Do you need a hug or…do you need me to go?"

Evan looks over at her with a raised eyebrow, "Did you just ask if I needed a hug?"

"I'm usually really good at this friend stuff," she replies beginning to ramble, "being there for someone emotionally. I just don't really know you, and technically I'm exhausted, so I can't tell what that look is…"

"You took a bullet for me," he says flatly, "and died."

He shakes his head angrily and uses both hands to shove the pile of ingredients off the cabinet and into the floor, turning to stalk away from her as he does so.

'How very Dean Winchester of you,' she thinks to herself, 'Least he didn't use magic. Maybe he only uses magic when he's really angry, or maybe when he's really angry he uses physical strength instead of magic.' She watches his shoulders rise and fall slowly as he takes a few deep breaths, 'Easy big guy, please don't Hulk out me, I don't want to fight you. What's with all the Marvel references? FOCUS Lexi!'

"That makes twice," he begins then turns to look at her, "I've watched you die."

She doesn't respond, she just stands there holding the sage in both her hands, watching his movements cautiously as he continues, "Do you have any idea what that's like?"

Lexi hesitates, glancing down at the mess in the floor for a moment before brings her eyes back up to meet his. For the first time Evan can see a small glimpse of the pain she's hiding.

"I know what it's like to lose people…friends and family," she replies quietly, her voice breaking as events from earlier replay in her mind, "and I would have lost Sam today, and Dean, but I didn't, because of you…you have no idea what that means to me…and I owe you for that."

"That's not how friendship works," Evan says genuinely with a small smile.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shoots from the right side of Lexi's temple behind her eyes and she reaches up to gingerly touch the side of her head. She grabs the cabinet in front of her with her other hand to steady herself, momentarily feeling weak.

"Are you okay?" Evan questions with concern as he takes a step closer.

"Yea," she replies, the pain still emanating through her skull, "just a headache."

"LEXI!" Jody's voice echoes down the hallway and Evan glances towards the door to see a woman with short dark hair come bursting into the room, a look of relief on her face upon seeing the girl in front of him. He can tell from the redness in her eyes she's been crying.

"Lexi," she says again as she approaches the girl, seeing the current state of pain she's in, "what's wrong?"

"Headache," Lexi manages to say as Jody reaches over to place her hands on her shoulders, but as soon as she does a blast of energy from the girl sends the short-haired woman flying back towards the door, knocking her off her feet.

Both Winchesters have walked in through the door in time to see this phenomenon occur and they look at Lexi in shock as she fearfully glances to Jody in the floor.

"Jody," she says with concern, turning towards her.

Sam moves to help the sheriff to her feet as she shares a look of concern with the youngest Winchester, "I'm okay."

"What was that?" Dean questions moving further into the room.

Lexi shrugs her shoulders, "My head just started pounding. I don't know what's happening."

He nods his head with understanding as he slowly walks towards his friend, holding his hands out in front of him cautiously, "Why don't you come lay back down? Maybe you just need to rest some?"

Lexi's head is throbbing to the point she feels as if it could explode and when Dean reaches for her hand, she pulls away from him and says quietly, "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," he replies with a reassuring smile, "you got this."

Sam's eyes search the shelf next to him and they land on the magical cuffs he and Dean keep on hand for Rowena in case of emergencies. He doesn't want to use them on his friend, but if she's having trouble keeping these new powers in check, then it's better to be safe than sorry. Evan's on the offense too, he's already picked up some of the ingredients he shoved to the floor moments earlier and has placed them back on the cabinet; carefully, he takes the top off a gold powder.

Dean steps closer to Lexi, while Jody and Sam watch fearfully as he reaches out with one hand to touch to the top of her shoulder, then says carefully, "It's going to be okay."

As soon as his hand touches her though, the same unseen force flings him back across the room, crashing him into his brother. Lexi watches the scene unfold in horror and she says quickly, "I'm sorry."

She glances over to Evan who's moving towards her and she says pleadingly, "I can't control it."

"I know," he replies as he opens his hand in front of her face, revealing a small amount of the gold powder, "I got you." He speaks a phrase in Latin before blowing the powder from his palm into Lexi's face which immediately makes her eyes close and he grabs her around the waist with his other arm to keep her from falling to the floor.

Sam grabs the cuffs as Dean recomposes himself looking over at Evan curiously, "What'd you do?"

"Just a sleeping spell," he responds, scooping her effortlessly into his arms, "Until we can find something to temporarily bind…"

Sam holds out the handcuffs in front of him, "Like this?"

"Exactly," Evan responds, then waits for Sam to slip the cuffs on Lexi's wrists.

"What the hell happened to her?" Jody questions in exasperation, then looks at the person holding her, "And who the hell is this?"

Evan sits at the table in the large library, feeling very much out of place in a room of strangers, but at least Dean had offered him a beer. Jody was sitting at the opposite end of the table from him while Dean had taken his place in the middle, explaining the events of the day to her. Jody takes a long drink from her bottle as she processes everything.

"So, this is our new normal?" she questions the older brother.

Dean just nods his head in agreement, it's obvious this thought is just now occurring to him as well, "Yea, looks like we've added another witch to the ranks."

"Witches…psychics…werewolves…angels…Lucifer's kid...alternate worlds," Jody lists, "are we sure this isn't the plot of a new film franchise?"

Dean rubs the back of his neck as he agrees, "Right."

"Sorry, did you say Lucifer's kid?" Evan questions from the far end of the table.

"Yep," Dean says tilting his beer toward the other man, "welcome to the party."

Lexi's eyes slowly start to peel open and she realizes she's back in the infirmary. She sits up quickly, remembering the events in the storage room.

"Hey," Sam says soothingly, standing up from the chair he was sitting in, "it's okay."

She realizes her hands are bound and looks down at the metal cuffs etched with engravings. The dark-haired girl recognizes them, she knows they've had to use them with Rowena before to bind her powers. A feeling a relief washes over her, and she closes her eyes for a moment as she takes a few calming breaths.

"Rowena's on her way," the younger brother states as she feels him sit down on the bed beside her, "She thinks she can help. We had to use the cuffs, I'm sorry."

"No," she turns to him, "thank you. I can't…I…"

Thoughts race through her mind, she'd been pushing them down since she'd woke up earlier. Focusing on everyone else made it easier not focus on herself, but the tears finally well up in her eyes.

"I killed Logan," the words come out quietly, "I almost…almost killed you…"

"Lex, I know what you're going through, I've been there," he replies, trying to console her, "that wasn't you."

"But it was me," she responds, staring up at him, "I wasn't possessed Sam. I wasn't subconsciously stored away in a happy memory somewhere in my own mind. I wasn't in control of my hands, but I was there the whole time, and I saw everything. I heard everything. I felt everything."

The tears fall silently down her cheeks as she stares at him, remembering the look of forgiveness he'd given her in those almost final moments of chaos, and she swallows the lump in her throat, "I felt everything Sam."

Sam wraps his arm around her, pulling her into his side as she rests his chin on top of her head, hiding his own tears from her. His heart breaks for his friend and for himself, because regardless of all the good they do, all the people they save, it feels as if it's never enough. Why can they never seem to catch a break?

Here's a question for your soul;

How many times can a broken thing break?

And the Gods whispered:

Let's see, shall we?

-Nikita Gill

[thepropertylovers]

Feature Friday with Arnold Ruelas

Happy Friday! How has your week been? This week’s Feature Friday is local to us, right here in Chattanooga! We had so much fun learning about Arnold’s life and getting a peak into what makes him tick. We found ourselves touched & inspired by his story, like how his “Mexican, Catholic, macho” father reacted when Arnold came out to him, how he started his own business, and how he gives back to his community. We think you’ll enjoy getting to know him as much as we did. Take a look below…

Where are you from? I was originally born in southern California and we lived there for a year. My parents and I moved to Mexico for two years and at the age of three we moved to South Carolina. I grew up right near Augusta, GA in a little town called Edgefield, SC!   

Where do you live? Chattanooga, TN

Instagram handle? @arnoldaruelas

Age: 27

What is your favorite place you’ve ever travelled to and why? I got the chance to travel to the Dominican Republic last summer and it was the best mix of relaxation/adventure. My friend Victoria and I went to Punta Cana on an all inclusive 7 day besties trip. We got the chance to go on a sailboat out to the island where they filmed Pirates of the Caribbean 2 and had a local dominican lunch and took a speedboat back to the resort. We drove dune buggies through the city and stopped at a cave to jump into a 30+ foot deep cave pool. It was so dark and so cold but so worth it! We had the best tans ever and had all the drinks and food! 10/10 would recommend it to anyone!

What made you want to come out? For me it was something that had been building up for a while and one day I just had the urge to scream it out from the top of a building! So I basically did, but via some phone calls and not off the top of a building. I had felt for so long like I had been living a double life and just needed to experience what truly being Arnold was like. I saw friends around me being so happy being gay and open and I thought “I want that for myself”. And I also knew that by coming out I could probably help someone in my same situation.

“…all I could say was ‘Dad I’m sorry but I like men, I’m gay.’ He paused and said ‘Arnold I raised you, I knew.’ And I let out the biggest sigh of relief!”

What was your coming out experience like? I was 20 years old, living in Nashville at the time with my best friend. I was home visiting friends and family and just knew that it was going to happen that weekend. I was in the car with my mom driving to the grocery store I believe, and just had the urge to just look at her and say it. So I did, I looked at her and said “Mom, I don’t like women, I like men. And I mean sexually.” She took a moment and said “Arnold, I love you regardless, I just want grandkids and our bloodline to continue on.” I am an only child so she thought me not having a wife in the future meant she wouldn’t have grandkids. I assured her she would still get grandkids and since then she has not stopped hounding me about it! I couldn’t look my dad in the face and say it so I called him on my 6 hour drive back to Nashville. My father is a mexican, catholic, macho man so I was terrified as to how he would react. I was crying on the phone before he even answered. When he picked up all I could say was “Dad I’m sorry but I like men, I’m gay.” He paused and said “Arnold I raised you, I knew.” And I let out the biggest sigh of relief! After that I told my closest friends and they were all honestly happy that I finally came out, I swear they were taking bets as to when I would do it!'

What did you learn about yourself in the coming out process? I learned that I am stronger than I was telling myself. Growing up in school I was bullied and questioned for “possibly being gay” and would try so hard to hide the real me. When I did come out I decided this is my time and I need to blossom into Arnold. Since that day I have not cared about conforming myself to be someone that society accepts.

Have you faced any backlash since coming out? How do you deal with it? Thankfully I can say that I have not dealt with backlash. It has been the complete opposite for me. I’ve been surrounded by the most encouraging friends and family that have pushed me to become my true self after coming out. There have been little occasions that I can recall where someone made a comment or two about my sexuality but I’ve brushed it off because I know it’s not something that I can personally control.

“When I [finally] did come out, I decided this is my time and I need to blossom into Arnold. Since that day I have not cared about conforming myself to be someone that society accepts.”

Are you religious? Why or why not? Can I answer this one with a yes and a no?! Growing up I was raised Catholic and was at Spanish mass every Saturday with my parents. We were very involved in volunteering and helping out within the church. I do believe in God, but haven’t always agreed with some of the practices of the Catholic church. Being gay and being a Christian for some people sounds crazy but I truly believe God created me and I’ve seen him work first hand in my life.

You started your own fashion styling business! How did that come about? Yes, I did! Right out of high school I started working in fashion retail. Started out part time not knowing what exactly I was doing if we are being honest. Slowly worked my way up and became a retail store manager within a few years. During the process I explored my creative side with wardrobing. I loved seeing outfits come together and seeing it bring joy to my clients. Soon I became known within the company I worked with for my styling capabilities and started getting a following of clients that would book appointments with me! I finally left retail exactly a year ago (Happy Anniversary to me!) and decided to pursue my love of styling and take it out of the retail jungle. Earlier this year I started the process of starting my business by making a few business cards, telling friends about what I do and letting it spread via word of mouth. I’ve been blessed to have met some amazing clients and have them trust me with their wardrobes! I help them with anything from cleaning out their current wardrobe, adding staple pieces, taking them shopping or shopping for them, and recently have been working with photographers and other businesses to style photo shoots! So many great things are in the work for next year and I am excited to see where this new business journey takes me!

What would you say to someone who wants to start their own business? I would 100% say that if it’s something that you are passion about then go ahead and take the leap! It’s so much better to take the plunge than to live the rest of your life thinking “What if?”. Starting your own business can be scary, I know for me I left the only career I knew to pursue my business and I knew I would most likely financially struggle the first year to get it up and running. There’s been some weeks that have been tougher than others but I’ve pushed through because I’ve made it this far and there’s so much more to come. I would also suggest taking the time to make a detailed business plan with a timeline of goals for yourself. Give yourself something to work towards and strive for!

You are very active in the local community. How has giving back impacted your life? What are some ways people can give back to their communities? This year I was asked to be a celebrity dancer in our local event called Dare to Dance and it was such an amazing and humbling experience! The event resembles the hit TV show Dancing with the Stars and all the contestants raise money for the local Kidney Foundation. I specifically was raising money for the Medical Equipment Program to help patients buy anything from eyeglasses to a wheelchair to blood pressure cuffs. I was able to actually meet some of the patients that received some of the money and it was a reminder that my “problems” were not nearly as bad as I thought. It made me thankful for where I am in life, even though sometimes I want to be so much further ahead. Also thankful for the opportunity to be able to give back to the community that opened their arms to me 4+ years ago when I first made the move to Chattanooga. There are many ways to give back to your community that are free and can make such an impact to someone in need. I would recommend getting online and searching local organizations in your area and see what volunteering opportunities there may be. Especially with it being the holiday season there are so many opportunities to help!

Who is your biggest inspiration and why? I would have to say my father. That man is an inspiration to so many people around him. He and my mother moved to the states in their very early 20’s knowing maybe 4 people in the city of Sun Valley, CA where I was born. He worked for 15+ years as a ranch manager on a cattle farm and saved up his money to buy his own 30 acre property to start his own farm. About 5 years ago he started his own construction company along with still running his farm. That man works sun up to sun down 6-7 days a week and never complains. He knows the true meaning of working hard to get to where you want in life and I look up to him for that. I strive to be as hard-working and wise as he is.

[myssthyss]

Does Myss ever wonder what she was like in her previous life? What about her old family? She still uses her old name, so could she potentially find them or at the very least be recognized in The Reef?

You actually inspired me to write a little something about this! So here’s a short ~1000 word thing about Myss and “What’s the Reef?” Preview below, the rest is below the cut!

The air around the purple-clad Guardian howls as it carries snow and a chilling bite, blowing around her at the mountain’s crest. Not for the first time, her cloak is whipped up by the freezing gusts, lifting the warmth away from her body. A shiver coursed up her spine, prompting her to hastily reach for the violet fabric and pull it back around her.

“Casper?”

[Yes, Myss?]

“What’s the Reef like?”

[The Reef is a graveyard of old ships in the Asteroid Belt, where the Awoken live, and where you’re originally from.]

“I know all that, but what’s it like?”

[…I don’t really know, to be honest. I’ve never been. All I’ve heard is stories.]

“Then tell me those.”

[It’s highly protected territory. The Awoken don’t like anyone that’s not them. I believe the Queen gave all Awoken a single chance to return to the Reef when the City was being built, but none heeded her call. Likely no one remembered her, or didn’t have any attachment or loyalty to the Queen once they had been revived. I’ve heard that she wasn’t very welcoming to Guardians that requested an audience with her, and even less so to risen Awoken that had aligned themselves with the City. The Light brought too much attention to her home and her people.]

“Do you think she’d have any lenience for one of her former commanders?”

[Doubtful. She’d probably see you as one of the highest traitors. It’s also rumoured that she’s dead.]

“Oh… is there any word on how they’re surviving?”

[We assume well. The Vestian Outpost is still open.]

“Vestian Outpost?”

[The gateway all outsiders must pass through before entering the Realm of the Awoken. Guardians often pick up bounties there, and a few combat contests run from there as well.]

“So we’re allowed there, but no further than that unless the matters are urgent?”

[Presumably so, but sometimes not even then.]

“I wonder if I’d be recognized there.”

[Well, there’s nothing really stopping us from visiting. You still use the same name, and you have your necklace.]

“We’ll have to head out there once we’re done with this.”

[ Speaking of, we’re almost there. Just a few hundred feet more.]

She trudges forward, boots crunching in six inches of snow, until she spots her goal. A rusted, nearly destroyed, Awoken Galliot sitting against the rock face, covered in a foot of snow. Thankfully, the snow did not block the large breach in the hull that served as an entrance.

An entrance that was once an exit.

“Well. Here we are.” She exhales, placing a hand on her chest. “Where it all began.

Casper gives an acknowledging whir, but says nothing.

“You sure the snow won’t give way this time?”

[Oh my Light, Myss!] Casper trills in annoyance. If he was corporeal, he’d have rolled his optic.

Myss giggles, continuing towards the hull’s breach, ducking and removing her hood as she enters. She takes a moment to drink in the hull’s battered appearance, to commit it to memory, and crouches down to lightly brush a hand against the spot where she was risen. Where she died.

“What did I look like?”

[You were dead, so not good. Mummified, almost.]

“Eugh.”

[The cold will do that to a body. Your hair even held its shape.]

“Of course it did.” Her glowing eyes roll in response as she stands, quickly moving to examine the rest of the ship.

She climbs up to the seat she once commanded a company of soldiers from, and sits on the violet chair. It feels foreign to her, unlike any ship she’s piloted in her short life as a Guardian. A few buttons on the console are pressed out of curiosity and, obviously, there’s no response from the dead ship. Casper is summoned to her palm, and is set free over the dash.

“Give this a quick scan while I search the back.” She instructs, climbing out of the chair. “I’m sure there’s something stored in there.”

[You got it.] He chirps as he gets to work.

Myss clambers to the back of the ship, and finds the majority of it filled with snow. She pitches a Solar grenade at the pile, hoping to help it melt while she searched the unobstructed parts of the ship.

A few books are found on a shelf on the wall opposite the pilot’s chair, some baubles that likely once decorated her clothes, and a bed whose covers had deteriorated. Attached to the inside of the main bunk were several printed photos, an unusual and ancient method. As she scanned them, there are several faces she does not recognize, but there are a few she does.

One in particular.

“Fuck.” She exhales in frustration, taking the offending photo from the wall. It looked not unlike a certain one her Ghost kept in his memory banks, of the moments after she discovered that she was a Nightstalker.

Except this one was much more intimate.

[I was just about to show you that.] Her Ghost says quietly, floating up gently behind her. [The ship’s memory had stored digital versions of these.]

“Could we have been anymore of a goddamned cliché?”

[Probably not.]

Myss groans, rubbing her eyes before pocketing the photo. “There’s a few other ones here as well. I’m sure I’ve run strikes with a couple of these guys.” She examines the series of pictures closer. “Wait, is this me?!”

[It looks like you!] Casper whirs and chirps as she pulls the photo from the wall. [She’s got your markings, and your smile. See, her teeth are coming in!]

“It is me. And I’m being held.”

[By your mother, most likely.]

“Yeah…” Myss pauses, staring at the photo. “I wonder if she’s still alive.”

[I don’t know. It’s more about if she’ll still accept you now.]

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

[If they let you in.]

“True.” Myss backs away from the sleeping area, but not before also pocketing the baby picture, and turns her attention back to the rest of the hull. The solar grenade’s done its work, having melted a decent amount of snow, enough to expose a very large banner with the Queen’s Mark that was hanging from the ceiling.

“Well, this could be useful.”

[For what? You’ve already committed to wearing that cloak, and it’s too large for anything else.]

“I’m going to bring it to the outpost with me, as additional identification.”

[You sure a piece of fabric found in a wrecked ship will be enough to convince them?]

“I don’t know, Cas. But it’s worth a shot.”