#supernatural: so hear us out what if we brought mary back but she is visually the wrong age

[the-mpreg-guy]

not a mary winchester lover, not a mary winchester hater, but a secret third thing

[literary-spirit]

Bonnie Bennett believed she'd finally discovered her good enough ending. Yet, like most things in her life good enough goes left and leaves her with another ending. Or, perhaps a fire beginning...Journey with everyone's favorite Bennett Witch to the Viking Era for much needed lessons in devotion, courtesy the Lothbrok brothers.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

AN: Alright Bennett Fandom this one here is a bit different from what you're used to. Okay this one here is a bit different than I'm used to. Francesca has recently rediscovered Vikings and with it the sons of Ragnar. And don't you know she wouldn't rest until she brought our favorite Bennett Witch into their mess! As if our girl didn't already have her own problems. SMFH! So thanks to my lovely muse, here we are with a whole lot of trifling savagery that I'm just not so sure about. But as always I'll let you be the judge if this WIP lives to see another update. Flame it or acclaim it in comments.

“You know as much as I’ve savored the joy of tormenting you over the years-,” Klaus began.

“No,” Bonnie shook her head. She’d tried to go along with his final request. Really she did, but how could she? When in the end all he’d be was gone. “I’m sorry, bae. We’re not doing this.”

Rebekah’s eyes rolled. She released a drawn out exhale that hadn’t been necessary for her since wood ash and pointed stick tattoos were a thing. “Bonnie, don’t ruin this for him! Permit him whatever comfort he demands. He shoulders a burden you’d never be able to fathom. Can you not allow him to experience but one moment of grace? A moment Hope will undoubtedly cling to after he’s gone.”

“No, Rebekah! I’m not about to listen as the man I love gives us all a corny goodbye and pretend to be okay with it. And why the hell should Hope have a moment to cling to when she could have her father?” She gave her head another firm shake. “No, this is not okay with me,” her voice rose as she drilled visual holes through each of them. Klaus tried to shut her down with an arm around the shoulders but she curved him with a shrug, all while committing ocular homicide on him in the process. “So why the hell is it okay with you, Hybrid?” Her scorn riddled gaze darted from him back to his so called family. “Or any of you?”

“You must’ve been down on Bourbon sipping on that Absinthe again if you believe any of this shit is okay with us,” Marcel waved her off barely sparing her a glance. “We all just know Klaus is gonna do whatever Klaus wants no matter how any of us feels about it. The most dangerous place you can be when his mind’s made up is in his way. So I suggest you step out of it.”

Her neck snapped back as if she’d taken a two piece to the chin. “You think I’m afraid of the big bad wolf? I wasn’t at seventeen and if I thought for a second it would save him, I’d put his ass back in the dirt again. I take care of my own, Marcel. No matter the dangers or consequences,” she jabbed a thumb at her hybrid, “And make no mistake, that Original pain in the ass over there is mine.”

“Cute.” Marcel laughed as he rubbed at the corners of his mouth. “Bonnie, we’re his family. Each of us have known, feared, hated, respected, and loved him long before even your parents’ parents became an idea. Hell, even after everything he’s dragged me through, there’s not a drop of blood I wouldn’t bleed for him.”

“Then stand behind those words and do something, Marcel,” she pleaded, because at this point she wasn’t above begging for the only bright spot remaining in the dim bleakness that had become her life seven years before.

“What would you have us do, Bonnie?” Elijah questioned in a barely engaged tone.

Bonnie turned to consider him. A perpetual moroseness now cloaked the one she’d once believed to be noble. His arrogance hadn’t been quite the same since the restoration of his memories. More and more he’d begun to remind her of Finn. She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. Since discovering what Klaus planned to do, she’d toyed with an idea she’d vowed never to indulge. Yet, under the weight of impossible desperation such vows could not stand.

“The eternal witch spell should be evoked,” she said.

“By whom?” Kol questioned. His chocolate browns moved from Freya to Hope. When both appeared to know less than him his disbelieving gawk returned to her. “You?!” Laughter burst from his mouth. “Oh Darling, I’ve witnessed that spell make a supernatural mess of the most talented witches to ever recite a chant. There’s only one destined to master the eternal witch incantation and her sorcery is said to be unmatched.” His knowing gaze drifted to Hope, and then back to her. “There’s no way you’re powerful enough to undertake the task. You’re not even the strongest witch on this block.”

Bonnie flinched. Damn it, if Kol hadn’t DOA’ed her pride. When the hell did he jump on the Bennett hate train? To hear how far his opinion of her plummeted sort of burned.

She nodded. “Okay, if not me why not Davina. You tend to enjoy blowing her horn. If she’s all you claim her to be, get her here. I’ll happily bow down if her being greater than me will save him.” She jerked her head in Klaus’ direction.

“No!” Marcel barked.

“Leave my wife out of this.” Kol zipped across the distance separating them to tower over her. His original face no longer concealed by his human deception.

Klaus rocketed forward to place himself between she and Kol. “Step away from my fiancé, baby brother. For if you harm her then you’ll be joining me in the afterlife. To hell with your bloody dagger and box.”

Ignoring Kol’s and Klaus’ dagger and the box bit, her distressed stare collided with Freya’s. “What about you? Will you help me save your brother?”

“Bonnie, that spell is much too dangerous. Even for me.” The blondes eyes offered her a thousand apologies but not one solution. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it…not now.”

Her desperation bottomed out to despair as her gaze took a hail Mary launch to the supposedly most powerful witch in the room. “Hope?”

The room erupted. You’d think she’d offered the girl a crack pipe. When she was Hope’s age she was taking down well…her dad.

“Bonnie!” Elijah yelled.

“This is madness,” Rebekah growled, taking a step in their direction. “Nik tell her!”

“We’ve already talked about this, Bekah.” Marcel shook his head and tugged Rebekah back to his side. “That doesn’t concern us.” Bonnie heard Marcel mutter.

Klaus spun away from Kol to regard her. He grabbed her face and cradled her cheeks in his palms. “Everything’s going to be alright, Love.” He whispered, before brushing his lips against hers. Liquid pain disturbed the stillness of his crystal blue stare and contradicted the hell out of his reassurance.

“How?” She tugged herself free of his grasp. “How’s everything going to be alright? You’ll be dead and then what? Life goes on? Fuck that! I’m not about to stand here and mourn a defeat I haven’t loss yet!” She whirled away and marched from the gathering. Her decision made.

Once out of sight, she hurried towards their bedroom. Inside, she closed the door and locked it. The barrier wouldn’t hold her hybrid, but the fraction of time it would provide may be all she needed to complete the spell. She fell to her knees next to the mattress. Carefully, she tugged the blanket from underneath the bed. The already prepared altar and ingredients slid out. She stared down at the athamae and exhaled. Second thoughts plagued her mental, but she shook them away. She’d come this far already. The time to bitch up and forget about it had come and gone. Now was the time to do and die, literally.

She picked up the dagger and called forth every ounce of mystical energy which bled through her veins. A swell of Bennett sorcery overwhelmed the room. Pictures rattled on the walls. The balcony doors blew open and the glass shattered. Furniture not nailed down whipped about the room like she’d caught a ride in a tornado. Steeling her nerves, she continued. She called forth her psychic energy, her huntress energy. Any and everything supernatural about her she offered to the Goddess of all in exchange for an eternity of knowledge and the fated eternal mate destined to help her defeat the Hollow.

After relinquishing her all to the Creator she sliced open her palm. Blood gushed from the wound and saturated the ingredients. A searing light illuminated the room. The bargain was struck and accepted. Now the sacrifice. She swallowed and raised the blade. Aiming it at the center of her chest, she closed her eyes.

“Bonnie, no!” Klaus’ voice penetrated the white noise blaring throughout the room. “Love, don’t do this. You won’t survive.”

She opened her eyes. He stood just beyond the enchantment circle, attempting to force his way into the barrier. “Neither will you if I don’t. Besides, if it doesn’t work I’d rather be in the ground anyway than breathe without you, Klaus.”

“Bonnie, please,” he pled as he dropped to his knees. He slammed his fist against the barrier. “Please, don’t do this. We’ll find another way. You have my word, Love!”

A sad smile flirted with her lips. “You’re lying, Klaus. If there was another way then it would already be the plan.” She plunged the blade into the cradle of her breasts. A piercing burn penetrated her chest.

“No!” Klaus’ bellow seared layers from her punctured heart. The storm of mystical energy whipping about ceased.

Her knees buckled. Klaus caught her before the ground could and cuddled her close. She attempted to talk, but a wheeze whistled pass her lips instead.

“No, Love, don’t speak.” He bit into his wrist and placed the bleeding extremity to her mouth. His blood might as well had been battery acid because she’d bet dollars to air it burned the same. Hacking coughs damn near shook her frame apart by the joints. “Why the sodding hell isn’t this working?”

“I-It’s the s-spell,” she managed to utter. “M-my death is the p-price of a-admission.”

Tears trickled from his eyes onto her face. “Why did I have to go and love you, Little Witch?” He demanded, looking beyond confused.

“B-Because its what we b-both needed at the time and no m-matter how this turns out I’ll always be indebted to you for giving me a reason. L-Love you, Hybrid…always and f-forever.” His face faded until nothing but darkness surrounded her.

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

The abyss gave way to blinding lights. Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut. A cacophony of sounds battered her auditory senses. The eardrum rupturing racket nearly distracted her from the violent rocking motion. A violent rocking motion which would no doubt wrought absolute fuckery on her cyclic vomiting syndrome. Right along with the tang of salt-water, unwashed bodies, and rotten fish. The potpourri of funk came close to singeing the lining of her nostrils.

A familiar acrid burn tickled the back of her throat. On cue her belly spun a series of gold medal winning somersaults. Oh this was going to happen. Her lack of sight heightened her senses and made her that much more sensitive to all the upchuck factors swirling about her. Unable to continue to live in the darkest part of her denial and remain vomit free, she opened her eyes. The brightest day she'd ever had to tolerate greeted her light discriminating gaze. She closed her eyes once more. What in the extreme fuck? Was this some kind of hell dimension? Is that why she was only a five minute drive away from the damn sun? Oh Goddess no!

"Cade?!" She growled.

The acrid burn that flirted with the back of her throat developed a sour chunky consistency. Once again she forced her eyes open...and blinked. She was on a vessel that appeared to have hailed straight out of Vikings. Damning the unnecessary brightness and her afterlife in general, she turned and tossed up the entire contents of her stomach over the boats edge. The seafood gumbo from Rousseau's she loved nearly as much as Klaus shot from her mouth and floated one way while the wind and Hades' cruiser sailed her in another.

As gravity took her down exhaustion fucked her over. She rested her cheek on the boat's wooden ledge. Drops of putrid salt water splashed her face. Yet, her fucks to give was at a negative zero low. Not only was she dead, but more than likely so was Klaus. She'd failed him...she'd failed them. Not even eternity would be long enough to make that shit okay.

Bonnie's vision blurred. Her chest throbbed. She clawed at the pounding ache between her breasts. Goddess, it's a wonder her chest didn't have a gaping hole in it after everything her heart had lost. Shaking her latest failure from her thoughts, she turned to slouch back to the boat's floor. She then lifted her gaze to assess her surroundings. Various shades of irises gawked back at her. She froze. Oh damn! Just her luck the water was sacred. She opened her mouth to offer an apology, but snapped it closed. Wait...why the hell did everyone look like extras from the Last Kingdom?

Slowly, her gaze dropped from the filthy hairy men towering over her to what she wore. The burlap sack dress she donned stopped her ever ticking clock. And based on the breeze cooling her cakes, her La Perla's had opted to skip the journey to the other side. Her back teeth clenched. In what kind of after life had she been dropped? Was this some kind of Viking hell? Had she somehow been granted eternity with Klaus in his hereafter?

The shifting of bodies snaked her attention from Kanye's spring wear to the now parting beefy men. A sight which had her questioning her sanity emerged. Bjorn Lothbrok or at any rate the actor who portrayed him in Vikings. Was he dead and stuck on the Otherside also? Wait, was Alexander Ludwig even supernatural?

"You're not one of the slaves who was captured during the raid. One of your hue, I would've remembered." The head Viking in charge edge that resonated in Bjorn's or Alexander's voice snatched her from her contemplations. "How've you come to be upon this ship?" When she opened her mouth to speak the cold sharpened point of a sword pierced the hollow of her throat. "Speak to me of canards or sagas and I shall open your gullet."

She hesitated for a moment. What could she say? The truth would definitely get her neck split wide. "I-I'm not sure. Before...when I closed my eyes, I was somewhere else and now that I've opened them, I'm..." she glanced from the horror frozen faces of the crewmen to the beyond frightened slaves. The poor shackled souls huddled away from her in the ship crevices and corners on either side of her. She swallowed and allowed her gaze to return to Bjorn. "I'm here."

"Oh my god," she heard one of the slaves mutter in a tone that, to her surprise, sounded annoyed?

His scoff sliced the disbelief inspired silence in half. He withdrew the biting tip of his sword from her throat and sheathed it in the scabbard at his side. "Bind her hands to her feet and toss her over."

The ship erupted in a flurry of movement. Two overfed red-haired and even redder faced Viking men moved to grab her. She nearly projectile vomited her heart from her mouth.

"I know what I'm saying sounds apeshit, but I swear on everything I love, Alexander," she said slowly uttering the name and searching his face for a flare of recognition. When nothing sparked in his expression she stammered on, "I-I'm telling the truth. Please, you have to believe me, Bjorn!" A flicker of curiosity narrowed his glare. Bingo! "You can't let them kill me! Please, I don't wanna die again!"

"Halt!" He bellowed, raising a hand to stop the men from advancing, "How've you come to know of my name?"

Shit! She pressed her lips together as her mind flipped through a too short list of plausible explanations that wouldn't get her burned at a stake for witchcraft. "I-I've dreamt of you a-and of this moment." There, that didn't sound too bad. One thing she'd learned from Klaus, watching Vikings, and Google, is ancient Northman actually revered oracles and seers.

"You've dreamt of me?" He knelt before her, arresting her stare with a penetratingly incandescent blue gaze. At a deliberate methodical pace, his eyes crept over her face. Her lungs threatened to collapse under the thorough scrutiny. "Of this moment?" Unable to look anywhere other than in the irises that burned brighter than the now blazing sun, her head bobbed. A smile enticed the corners of his mouth. "Then why fear what you know will follow? Have you not prepared well to meet your fate?"

"Not if my fate resides at the bottom of the ocean," she said with a firm shake of the head, "That's an introduction I'd like to cur—avoid indefinitely."

His head tilted just so as he continued to regard her. "Name yourself."

"Bonnie Bennett," she answered.

A golden brow lifted. "Bonnie Bennett of where?"

"New-M-Mystic Falls...Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

"I have never heard of a land with such a name," he huddled a bit closer to her, "in which direction does your homeland lie?"

Before she could answer, thick gun metal gray clouds rolled across the azure sky and swallowed the glaring sun. A sonic boom exploded somewhere in the distance, while blue streaks of lightening zigzagged its way through the stodgy swirls of gloom. And if the situation wasn't already atom splitting serious, fat drops of rain and hail the size of golf balls began to pelt them.

"This storm is unnatural!" A seaman yelled.

"What in the name of Odin will become of us? None of us shall discover the gates of Valhalla at the bottom of the sea!" A ruddy face old man with a scraggly beard roared at anyone who appeared to be listening.

Another much younger seaman, maybe a little older than herself, turned an anxious stare on Bjorn. "Do you believe the All Father has forsaken us, Ironside?"

Bjorn opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a blonde slave girl who pointed a finger in her direction, "It's her! Her very presence displeases the gods. You should heave her over and pray the sacrifice appeases them."

"You sound dumb as hell! It's no wonder you're in chains," Bonnie snapped, regretting her words as soon as they left her lips. Stupidity had nothing to do with forced captivity. Yet, that bitch had some damn nerve.

"No one will be heaving anyone over," Bjorn said, while standing from his crouch, "Raise the sails and provide the slaves with pails so they may began dumping water from the ship's floor."

A surge of magic thickened the air. The foreign sorcery incited something within her. Something unfamiliar. A bucket was pushed in her face. She took the wooden pail without looking away from the sea. The very stench of alien witchery agitated her own strange mystical energy. The fiery heat of her somehow altered super charged power practically scorched the inner lining of her veins as it raced through her vessels. Who would dare interrupt the supernatural and natural balance on this scale without justification? It was like using a heat seeking missile to take out a mosquito. Un-fucking-called for!

Instead of allowing the now aggressive powers within her the retribution it sought, she settled just to keep the occupants on the ship safe. So, while she dumped water from the boat's floor, she chanted under her breath. Soon, a protective shield formed around them in an elusive form of the previous sunny day. The Vikings and slaves alike erupted in praises to Odin.

"Yep," Bonnie forced a smile. "Praise Odin!"

"Come, Mystical One," Bjorn stood over her, his shadow casting her much needed shade.

Distrust and her impromptu guest starring role on a show which highlighted the fact that Vikings had no problems raping captives, raised her guards. Though realms out of her element, she was far from ignorant.

Her gaze moved over him in an attempt to size him up. "Where?"

"To the prow," He gestured towards the front of the ship before snatching the pail from her hands, and then tossing it aside. "I wish to learn more about you and this numinous land named Mystic Falls." When she took too long to follow he locked his hands behind his back and considered her. "If I wanted to lie with you then all I need do is have you. Do you believe anyone here would be minded to protect you?"

She lifted her chin as she glanced about the ship to see not one person watching them for concern purposes. Every eye she caught on them looked to be pre-historic Shade Room and TMZ reporters. If they had tea kettles back then they'd no doubt be ready to spill the damn things. No, Bjorn spoke the truth. No one on that confoundingly long boat would lift a calloused palm to help her.

"Alright." Exhaling, she stood and leveled him with a glare even a PMS'ing demon would be incapable of exacting. "But fair warning, no one on this ship can protect me better than me. And make no mistake, I'm not above defending my own honor."

He reached out and took her hand in his. "That is a certainty about you of which I'll never be mistaken, Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

[mittensmorgul]

Going back through some of my liveblogging posts from 14.01, and rewatching it a couple times today, there’s a few things I wanted to at least point out in a more coherent fashion than my garbled liveblogging (and a couple of things I didn’t even notice the first time around), I’ve now watched it four times through all told, I think. So let’s call these my rewatch notes:

1. Jamil shuts off his phone’s alarm, and it’s replaced by beach sounds-- seagulls and the ocean rolling against the shore. More fake beach vacation promises. Do I need to make BeachBaiting a tag like grenadebaiting was back in s12?

2. Michael looking down at Jamil on the floor and telling him what he wants is “A Better World,” much like Mick Davies in 12.09:

Mick: Let me paint you a picture of a world without monsters or demons or any of those little buggers that go bump in the night. Of a world where no one has to die because of the supernatural. Of a new world, a better world.

This is so interesting first off because Mick is short for Michael, but the “better world” each of them foresaw and worked for is so vastly different. Mick’s involved the eradication of all monsters for their “impurity,” while Michael’s involves the eradication of humans BY monsters, because their desire to simply eat is “pure.” Their ultimate goals might be opposites, but their methods and even rhetoric are all from the same sort of playbook.

3. Sam’s blue plaid and orange jacket has shades of the two conflicting colors of the new title card... the orange blown offscreen and replaced with the shiny blue grace light. This is neither here nor there, just an interesting observation about a color scheme that’s clearly thematically relevant. Plus any excuse to make conversation about the orange jacket relevant, just to annoy Lizbob. :P

4. Bobby quoting Rocky, and Jack thinking it’s Gandhi. :P (yes, I watched the rest of that scene with the rocky music playing in my head)

5. Cas hadn’t even been at Motown Meats long enough to order a glass of water for himself when Kip walked in. And Kip expressed surprise and interest in the fact he’d lost a Winchester (along with innuendo and a taunt about Dean specifically). But by his later statements about having been asked what he wants recently, it’s clear that he’d had a little chat with Dinkle. But... did Kip realize he was standing face to face with Dean Winchester? Or was he only aware he was talking to Michael, not recognizing the vessel? Because I think if he HAD recognized that Michael was wearing Dean, his taunts to Castiel would’ve been very different, you know? Not about how irresponsible it was to lose the Winchester he was attached at the everything to, but about his favorite Winchester running around with another angel... If Kip had known that, I think he wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity to deliver that much deeper dig at Cas. So since we’ll never actually know now that he’s dead, that’s what I’m assuming. :P

6. The way Castiel was beaten to the ground by that group of demons is visually reminiscent to the way the character only known as “Scarf Angel” was beaten by Metatron’s human devotees in 9.23, when he was playing the role of “Marv the Healer.” This is also a nice callback to the differences between Marv and Sister Jo-- yes they’re both angels attempting to secure their own means by using their angel powers to cultivate a human following, but heck compared to Marv’s goals (fomenting human suffering and violence in his defense), at least Sister Jo is just trying to make herself comfortable on Earth, you know? It’s a kinder, gentler, less megalomaniacal approach. But still, Scarf Angel was beaten down the same way Cas was-- BY HUMANS NO LESS, not even demons, so there’s another dollar in the “not OOC” jar for that scene. At least no one rolled an angel blade into the mix this time around, because Scarf Angel got himself dead by those humans in 9.23, just for trying to speak the truth about Metatron.

7. There’s some creepy similarities between Michael’s little speech to Sister Jo-- even his affect and the softness and cadence of his words-- that’s reminiscent of Amara’s talks with Dean back in s11, with the whole “give up your smallness, your humanity,” etc. What they’re asking isn’t even really all that similar, but the sinister surety has the same shades to it.

8. Nick. Re-introduced here with Lucifer’s temptation of him to say yes way back in 5.01. The flashbacks we’re shown are of Lucifer using his murdered wife, and horrifying memories of his murdered child in its crib, dripping blood. Nick was angry at God for letting that happen to his family, and Lucifer promised him justice and peace. (so much for that!). His memories flash to the blood-filled crib, and he says yes. Because of his own murdered child and his need for justice over that. Can you even IMAGINE what it must’ve been like for Nick if he’s been even a little bit aware of what’s happened since Lucifer was forced back into his vessel? All of Lucifer’s manipulative games with Jack-- his own son-- when Nick essentially gave up EVERYTHING and agreed to be Lucifer’s vessel for the promise of justice for his own lost child? How... horrific for Nick. And then knowing what Lucifer did to Jack, how he nearly killed Jack, taking Jack’s grace for his own needs and now seeing how hurt Jack is over all of this and yet... there is no justice anywhere, and no peace for either of them. Even with Lucifer dead. It’s just... owie. With Nick here now, I hope at least some of this gets addressed, in addition to Sam’s trauma with Lucifer... Lucifer spread an awful lot of trauma around, and it would be nice to get at least a little bit of attention on that fact.

9. Mary’s speech to Sam in the car about the fact she has to keep thinking positively FOR DEAN’S SAKE, instead of giving in to despair or coming at this from a position of negativity, sums up everything she’s had to come to terms with since she was brought back to life in 11.23. And if you can hear that and see that and not understand that she’s basically stepped into Dean’s shoes here, and think Mary is a “bad character” still, I guess I have no hope of ever convincing you otherwise. *throws up hands* *regrets eating hands*

10. Bobby’s little pep talk to Jack in the car on the way to Detroit, acknowledging how many times Jack saved him in the other world and reassuring Jack that he has his back now (Maggie too, since they show her face during this conversation), is everything. This might not be the same Bobby who taught Sam and Dean about capital F Family that don’t end in blood, but hell if he isn’t close enough. Family now transcends alternate universes.

11. As Sam walks into Motown Meats, he tells his four sheeps “You know what to do.”  Much has already been written about the Beyonce line, so I’m gonna leave it for now, but after that grandiose lil speech, Sam completely ignores Kip, even walks around him, to talk to Cas. :’) I just love how entirely dismissive Sam is of Kip, not even shaking his hand, being utterly informal with his, “Cool. Kip.” retort to Kip’s continued affectations and flattery and all of that.

12. The demons found Maggie and Jack outside, who didn’t even put up a fight. Were they even armed? Or were they supposed to just be “bait” to let Kip think that this was Sam’s best backup, to play down Sam’s skills and assets? Especially since Bobby and Mary weren’t captured. I think they were supposed to sweep for lookouts or guards outside, to create a diversion so Mary and Bobby could have a clear path to the door with their arsenal, without alerting all the demons inside. Clever. :)

13. Kip says the line, “I’m a demon, that’s how we do.” And honestly in that moment I could only think of Dean in 9.13 during their job interview at the Canyon Valley Spa:

MARITZA: And you boys are both certified personal trainers? DEAN: Yeah. Yeah, personal training brothers. Kind of like Hans and Franz, but, uh, less German. LARRY: And you're certified in... DEAN: Makin' people sweat! Yeah. Kickin' ass and takin' names! [He slams his hand on the table] That's how we do! SAM: Uh...Uh, to clarify, uh, what my brother's trying to say is, we both have a passion for fitness and helping people.

And I can only imagine Sam was groaning on the inside at the memory of that incident. :P

14. Sam’s still not having any of Kip’s affected hospitality, and refuses to sit. Like, seriously, everything about what’s happening here is a strategic bluff. This is all a power play, the likes of which typically fell to Dean in the past. I mean, think of 13.15, and Dean’s posturing with the Mafia boss guy, while Sam squirmed uncomfortably thinking they were about to be murdered at any second for their insolence. But here Sam is, playing that game with Dean’s usual cavalier attitude and brilliant poker face. I mean, he’s not as quippy as Dean, but who is, right? This is Sam Samming his way through Dean’s usual shtick though, and I appreciate that.

15. Idiot Kip, basically handed over all the power in that room to Sam the moment he announced that he might not be afraid of Sam, but all his minion demons were... I mean... There you go...

16. Jack runs in during the fight, unarmed, to have Bobby’s back when a demon had him down. :’) Even better, Bobby’s muttered reply to Jack’s two-fisted defense? “Aw, balls.” :’) 

17. Through all of this, all of his loved ones who’d come to rescue him, Cas is chained to a chair, unable to even MOVE, or DUCK OUT OF THE WAY, or offer any support at all because of the cuffs binding him to the chair. He has to watch all of this go down, helpless to do anything to defend his loved ones as they’re beaten and hurt because of him. OW. Bonus: this is metaphorically the position that DEAN is in as well. He’s chained in place, too, wherever Michael drags him while his family searches for him and tries to free him. Honestly I wonder if Dean even hopes his family never finds him, dreading what Michael might do to them with his own hands, you know? YIKES. Okay enough of that kind of thinking. I’ll save that for next week... >.> But back to Cas, at least at the end, the worst any of his family suffered was a punch in the face.

18. ONE WORD FROM SAM IS ENOUGH to stop all the fighting once he’s killed Kip. Because Kip had been right. All those other demons are afraid of Sam. They’re probably even more afraid now that their chosen leader is dead at Sam’s hand.

19. I already wrote something up about Sam’s declaration here, as well as his hubris, which I’m looking forward to seeing the consequences of going forward.

20. Sitting in the same spots where Dean and Cas once had a heartbreaking conversation back in 9.10, about doing the wrong things for the right reasons, and being willing to do anything to save Sam from Gadreel, Sam and Cas have a conversation about doing the wrong things for the right reasons, and doing anything to save Dean from Michael.

21. Sam reassuring Jack about it being okay that he doesn’t have his powers now, that he’s not helpless nor useless, because he has Cas, and all the rest of his family. Cas suggests his grace “SHOULD regenerate in time,” but that’s not the same as “definitely will regenerate.” But Jack just feels like he can’t succeed at anything... hmmm... this entire setup feels familiar...

22. oh, right! This whole, you have me, you have your family, and together we’re going to find Dean and beat Michael, and we’re gonna do it together, because that’s what we do. This is... this is exactly what Dean told a disconsolate and desperate Cas in 12.19. And Cas may never have heard Dean give a very similar speech to Sam at the end of 11.15, because that one had included finding Cas himself when he was possessed by Lucifer, but:

Dean: And that's how we're gonna win. And we're gonna win. We're gonna save Cas, we're gonna ice the Devil, and we're gonna shank the Darkness. And anyone that gets in our way. Well, God help 'em.

23. Sister Jo’s call. Which I wasn’t gonna mention except I had the audacity to quote that line from 11.15, and it pinged my memory of Jo’s first little conversation at the beginning of this episode. At the church, she’s seeing off the people she’d healed that night, and a man stops to thank her for saving his life. His wife thanks her, and says, “God bless you.” Jo replies, “He does, every day.” So when I typed “Well, God help ‘em.” As I let the end of the episode play out, and it’s Jo who calls to tell Sam about Dinkle, well, I can’t help but think that might be a bit of a divine intervention there.

[emptywithout]

Sam’s Fear (part 7)

It’s here guys!  I’m so so so sorry it took so long!  But I have parts 8 and 9 done too, which I will post in the next day or two!

Thank you for being so patient with me!!

“You let me die,” said Jess, tears falling from her eyes.

“You hurt me, Sam.  I trusted you and you tied me up and hurt me,” Jo moved closer to him, pain in her eyes, the hurt in her voice evident. She touched his cheek gently.

“Come on, boy, this isn’t what I wanted for you.  You know you deserve better.  I want you to make me proud,” Bobby was right next to him, his hand on his shoulder, squeezing tighter than he should have been.

“I wanted to die.  I begged Azazel to take me so I wouldn’t have to raise you.  I knew you would be drinking demon blood.  You think I wanted to raise a freak like you?” Mary was standing on his other side, whispering into his ear, her cold breath stinging his neck like icicles.

He couldn’t escape them.  They were surrounding him, getting closer.  They were grabbing him, pinning him down, and pushing hard on his chest.  Sam couldn’t move or fight back, his body wasn’t responding to his own commands. He was desperate, wanting to scream, wanting to push them away, but they just kept taunting, moving around him, their voices angry, yelling, hurtful.

“You know Sam, I can make this all go away.  Just say yes, and I will take you back with me, where it can be just the two of us.  You know I know how to take care of you.”  Lucifer’s face was suddenly directly in front of his.  He leaned in impossibly close, his nose almost touching Sam’s.  Sam swallowed in fear, unable to respond.  He squeezed his eyes shut, the only thing he could do.  He couldn’t even turn his head away.  Lucifer reached up and caressed Sam’s cheek.  Sam shivered.  He wanted to reach up and grab him by the neck, throw him against the wall.  He wanted to scream at him, “Never!  I will never say yes to you!” 

But Lucifer remained where he was, smiling, raking his sharp fingernails down Sam’s neck and chest.  Sam sobbed. Everything he had ever been afraid of, everything he was ever ashamed of, his choices, his actions, they were all there.  He was unable to speak, unable to move, but he could pray.  And he prayed.  He prayed for Cas, he prayed for Chuck, he even tried praying for Crowley, hoping someone would be able to hear his cries for help.  But the agony continued, no reprieve was coming. 

 ************

Rowena was desperately turning the pages of the spell book.

“There has to be something, there just has to be!”  Rowena yelled, pounding her fist on the table.  “I don’t know what spell he cast, so I can’t reverse it properly!” She put her head in her hands, trying to hide her grief from Dean.  She didn’t need a Winchester seeing that, especially not Dean.

Dean, meanwhile, hadn’t left his brother’s side for over an hour.  He watched as Sam twitched and blinked, still frozen in the moment Rowena had cast the protection spell over him. 

Neither of them were aware of what Sam was experiencing. 

Dean was still kneeling, his hand on his brother’s knee, watching Sam breathe.  He needed to be sure he saw that.  No matter what, he had to know his little brother was still breathing.  Still here, with him.  He grabbed Sam’s limp hand and drew in a shaky breath.  Behind him, he heard Rowena yelling, but didn’t falter. Dean kept his focus on his brother.  Dean, too, began to pray. 

He tried praying to Cas, but Cas hadn’t been around for weeks, and Dean had been unable to get a hold of him.  Dean wiped away the tears that were starting to form out of frustration and remembered that Crowley had brought Rowena to help.  He was about to call for him when the King of Hell suddenly stood before him.

Dean rose to his feet.  “That’s the fastest you’ve ever responded, Crowley.  I hadn’t really even –“

But Crowley cut him off.

“I’m not responding to you, Dean.  I’m here because Sam called.”  His face was bright red with anger and he turned on his heel and walked quickly toward his mother.  Dean furrowed his brow, confused.

“What do you mean, Sam called you?”

But Crowley didn’t answer him.  He pointed an accusing finger at Rowena.

“Listen, mother, I don’t know if you are doing this on purpose or not, but do you know what that boy is suffering through right now?  I felt his pain in hell, it’s so damn excruciating!”

Rowena stood quickly, the chair falling to the ground behind her.

“What on earth are you going on about now, Fergus?”

“Yeah, Crowley, what the hell are you saying?  What do you mean Sam’s suffering?” Dean’s worry was turning to anger.

Cowley turned away from Rowena and faced Dean, his voice somewhat calmer.  “What I’m telling you is that boy, Sam Winchester, is trapped in his mind with his fear.”  He turned back to Rowena, continuing, his voice returning to anger and accusation. “that last protection spell?  You must have released that at the same moment his fear came back again.  He’s not only going through what we all saw before, when he had the bloody fucking knife to his throat, but he’s going through it alone, and he can’t escape it, he can’t even move in there!”

“What?”  Dean put his hands to his head, raking his hands through his hair.  His lower lip trembled as he turned and fell at his brother’s knees.  He shook him, yelling his name, trying to get him to snap out of it.

“Sam! Sammy? Sammy, can you hear me?”

Crowley moved over to Dean and tried to gently pull him away, but Dean was unwilling to let go of his brother.

“You mean we’ve been sitting here this whole time while Sam’s been suffering excruciating pain and fear?”

Crowley folded his arms and merely nodded, his eyes showing concern.

“Rowena, you’ve got to release him, he has to know he’s not alone, we have to help him!” Dean turned, his eyes pleading.

Rowena had been standing behind the table, in shock.  How had she not known?  How was she, a powerful, capable witch, unaware she was damaging Sam more than she was helping him?  Her mouth hung open, ashamed of herself.

“Mother!” Crowley barked, and Rowena closed her mouth, nodding.  Dean looked at her with pleading eyes while Crowley stood by, his arms spread wide, waiting for Rowena to respond.

Rowena raised her hands in the air, closed her eyes, and chanted the reverse protection spell.

Three pairs of eyes turned to Sam.

His eyes grew wide upon his release.

The scream that came from the younger Winchester was the most painful, horrific scream any of them had ever heard. 

Dean grabbed Sam and held him down.  Sam thrashed and jerked under Dean’s strong grasp.

Crowley looked at Rowena and she nodded in silent agreement.

The next few moments were going to be crucial.

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[restorerjourney]

Week 3

Aloha, I will be updating weekly for now since there has been so much going on. Thank you for your patience!

April 19, 2021- Monday

At 8am we went to Ohana court which is a big stage where all the students here at the campus come together for time of praise and worship. I was struggling with worship initially because I was physically tired and I honestly didn’t feel like worshipping. I felt tired, distracted, and my heart was hardened. I decided to go into the spirit of repentance even though I didn’t feel like it. I repented of my critical judgmental heart and being so distracted. Then I felt God move my heart as I started to tear..”He said I love you, your tears are very precious to me” I just felt His nearness and sweet fellowship with him. So often I find myself being so much more critical of myself than God. 

Today is the first day of lecture in which this week’s topic is hearing God’s voice by our staff leader, Pastor Sunny. He shared a bit about himself and his own encounter of the Holy spirit moving in his life. He grew up presbyterian like me which the culture is often more focused on the word than the works of the Holy spirit. He encountered the spirit really move in his life multiple times through divine encounters where he felt God physically and saw so many miracles and people being so encouraged by these encounters. He shared so many verses that support the fact that we are able to hear God’s voice and by far the one that stuck to me the most was  John 10:27 “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me”. This verse really spoke against the lie that I and probably many of us may feel when we think God is not speaking to us or that we can’t hear Him. We can. Praise God.

He then encouraged us to practice hearing God’s voice. He lead us to envision what our heart looked like currently as we present it before the Lord ..what did that heart looked like? Describe it as best as you can..after he lead us to give that heart to the Lord and asked us to envision what that heart looked like. 

My heart was actually small, calloused, trying to pump but was tired and was chained with thorns on it. After giving it to Jesus the heart became like a new born’s heart, fleshy, soft, and new with no blemish and larger than before. Every time we do practice hearing God’s voice, we are in small groups, usually groups of 3 to share with one another and pray for each other. I believe this was crucial so that we could encourage each other and we knew that this was a safe place.

During lunch, E and I had our one-on-one where our assigned staff leader will meet us weekly to see how we are doing. Although I quarantined with E, I was a bit cautious getting closer because I knew she was spiritually sensitive. I believed a lie that spiritually anointed people would know all my weakness and sins if I was near them or spent time with them. I think this lie was something that I believed for awhile since I had my traumatic experience with someone whom I thought was a Christian but belonged to a cult. As I shared my struggles with her, I was surprised to find that she too also had hurt from her own father and had grown up in a cultish church. She apologized if anything she said made me afraid of her and I forgave and was so thankful to have her in my life. I then realized how much the enemy really did in the beginning wanted to separate us. She really is someone God has brought into my life to relate to and I’m truly thankful for. I also shared my struggle of loneliness not finding any student friend at least in the same stage or season in life that I could relate to. E also shared that struggle when she was in outreach. During this time of loneliness and lack of compassion for her teammates, she realized that in order to love horizontally, she needed to be loved vertically which spoke true to me. Even if I don’t have a student friend here who speaks English and is going through what I am going through, God knows my struggles better than any friend and I often run to friends before going to God. This causes me to burn out of love for those around me and lose compassion. I also have to catch myself many times to remember that this DTS is the unapologetic time for me to be fed. I catch myself wanting to give back to the staff because I didn’t want to owe someone or out of fear that they would think I am selfish. The best way I could repay for what the staff have poured out was to run after Christ with all that I have. 

After lunch we had a lecture on meditating on God’s words. A key point that I took out was that meditation is like writing the words of God in our heart. Also it is not meant to be kept to ourselves but we are encouraged to share this to others. 

After meditation we went straight to the farm. I still remember the first time we met the other students. At first they seemed standoffish which was disappointing because I thought at least in American culture, they would be more friendly. I saw the slow transformation as they started to open up, re-introduce themselves and wanting to talk to us more. Today most of the group went to the chicken pond and drained the water with buckets to feed the plants. Chloe and I worked in the garden and for the first time I know how to prepare planting Montecarlo Romaine on my own! I was worried that the bed I would plant would die but again the staff here showed so much grace and encouraged me that it would be ok. I hope to show this kind of grace to which ever ministry God leads me.

After working at the farm, we quickly ate dinner and showered then went to Ohana court for ministry night. Almost all my friends who have done DTS in Kona said their highlight was ministry night which is a 2 hour of praise and worship. I was honestly so tired since the morning since I didn’t sleep well but I pushed myself to go. Although I was sitting many times on the floor during worship night, I felt as if I was sitting at the Lord’s feet. The sight was so beautiful as you see your fellow christian brothers and sisters just so hungry for God. They would be kneeling, laying on the floor, dancing, pacing, raising their hand, or dancing. I felt such breakthrough when I started dancing while worshipping. Then a girl named Hannah came up to me and wanted to share what God spoke to her about me...she shared that she felt God saying I was a precious jewel, so precious and beautiful and God was enamored by me. This was so encouraging to me as I thought more about it since I was feeling lately unloved, not someone to be noticed by, and unattractive. 

April 20,2021- Tuesday

This morning I felt so much more rested and felt the need to do my meditation at the prayer room. It was so good to do this quiet time there and to remember not to be like a Martha but a Mary. 

At 8am, we had Pastor Jimmy share his devotion to us. He shared about how God speaks not only during the most epic moments but in your everyday life. How often do we pray to God, for example, what we want in a spouse, yet because we are set in our answer, perhaps God is speaking to you and you just can’t hear him. God speaks to you through others too, even the times when you think it’s nagging. As he closed his teaching, he went to each and every student and when he came to me he said that saw me running a marathon, determined, disciplined, and running fast towards him. The first thought was... “God why couldn’t Pastor Jimmy see me resting underneath a palm tree instead of a marathon? I want rest please Lord lol” 

Pastor Sunny continued with this lecture about hearing God’s voice. Here were some key points since there was so much.

-God speaks to us through His creation. God speaks to us through intimacy as His bridegroom, our Father, our Shepard. He calls us by our name. He also calls us our friend, the relationship Moses had with God was also friendship. As a friend, we can share our deepest secrets. In the context of working, God is our master. 

-We need to practice hearing the God’s voice like any discipline

How can we discern if this is from God?

God’s word. God would never speak against or outside of the bible.

From our community

From the Holy spirit, the fruits of the spirit

What are the ways to hear from God?

-Reading His word, Visions, pictures, or dreams, in stillness, through gift of tongue and interpretation, word of knowledge ( which is when someone shares what God spoke to someone about their past), when you feel supernaturally how someone else is feeling...feeling someone else’s pain, through worship music, an impression in your heart

-Some can see angels or Jesus, or even hear the actual voice of God although it is very rare. 

Then we went through a prayer where we close our eyes and allowed the Holy spirit to help us visualize that we are walking with Jesus holding his hand. As you are both walking he notices that you have a bag. This bag is heavy and he wants you to take whatever is in your bag. Then he replaces something in that bag and how does that bag feel? 

The second prayer exercise was to visualize your happiest moment and then your saddest moment, where was Jesus and what did he say or do. 

The third prayer exercise was to visualize you walking with Jesus hand in hand to heaven, what was that like? When you got passed the gate and you saw the Father, what did you experience, how did Jesus welcome you to the Father and how did the Father respond?

If you guys are curious to know what I saw please feel free to reach out to me and I would love to share with you.

After we shared with each other in our group and volunteered to share with the whole team, we prayed and ministered to one another. It was such a sweet time. This was the moment when I realized why God has brought me here to DTS with all Koreans to heal the relationship and the past hurt I’ve experienced with the Korean church. 

As people went up to share, a part of me wasn’t sure to go up. I didn’t want to hog the mic. Yet as I saw others be desperate to know God and to be set free, it made me want it for myself. I cried particularly when one of our teammates went up and shared how he was ostracized and experienced so much self-hatred. As pastor Jimmy ministered to him he encouraged all those who experience bullying came up.I was shocked to see so many of those who experienced bullying. It wasn’t just me. 

After we went to the farm and I worked on aquaponics since my back was hurting from gardening. My mom then somehow managed to facetime me which was a miracle because my phone was on silent mode. I felt that God really knew how much we needed to talk and how much we missed each other. It was good to see her doing well although her planar fasciitis on her foot has been hurting. I don’t know how much she is hiding about how the restaurant is doing but I entrusted her to the Lord. 

April 21, 2021- Wednesday

Again I woke up around 6am and did my routine of going to the prayer room to meditate and do my new testament readings. Today’s lecture was by far my most favorite one because we got to go to Queen’s bath which is one of the closest beach to our campus! We focused on praying and hearing the voice of God about others. We split into groups of 3 and we were encouraged to pray with someone you don’t really know. It was so peaceful because literally you felt the ocean breeze, heard nature, and hear and smell the ocean. I felt less distracted and was able to focus better in this environment. 

A bit that I need to share about hearing the voice of God personally.. I’ve been skeptical and worried about pursuing to hear God’s voice like this due to my past experience of having it being used incorrectly towards me by others. Their prayers brought shame and fear and unfortunately I’ve used it incorrectly to others which I still grieve to this day. Our pastors emphasized the proper boundaries when praying for someone and that praying for someone is always to encourage and bring life, not death or shame. For years I’ve realized since my previous trauma of being influenced by a cult, that I’ve intentionally shut my heart from hearing anything from God which is what made me thought I couldn’t hear him in the first place. I’m glad that this week was really a time of redemption and relearning how to properly discern the voice of God, the character of Him, and how it really does encourage others when they hear it. I’m still learning but I’m looking forward to sharpening this discipline.

Some of the memorable prayers I’ve received was when H shared a bible verse that reflected my theme verse for DTS..“Joshua 1:6 Be strong and courageous, for you shall cause this people to inherit the land that I swore to their fathers to give them.” 

Overall the prayers I’ve received had a similar theme of how God loved me, was excited for what He had in store for me, and that I was literally running towards a light (representing God). I literally had 4 different people said they saw me running. How crazy is that? It really was such an amazing supernatural personal experience for me since none of them really knew what the other person has prayed over or heard me talk about running. This really encouraged and helped me trust God knowing that He really does care and have plans for me. 

Another really amazing experience was when I prayed for H, I saw random animals which at first didn’t make sense. I first saw a dove, then an amazon jungle...I was thinking “what in the world does this mean?”. I still followed in obedience and shared this with her and thought it meant that it represented so much life that perhaps God wanted to restore so much life in her. She was so shocked because her English name mean “Life”, so this actually really encouraged her.

Overall, that experience was really a precious memory I’ve had so far since I felt my prayer and main communication with God was restored. 

Tonight was our weekly Ohana night where we gather, worship, and hear from a pastor. He spoke about the great commission and how we are all called to be sent out till every tribe, tongue, and nation hears about Jesus. He shared about so many stories of how people from very dark places whether if they are drug dealers, those who dealt with witchcraft, and even tried to poison the missionary come to become strong evangelist for Christ in their nation. The story of the indian woman at a young age experienced something so traumatic being forced into marriage with a much older man who had AIDS but in their culture or religion believed that if she married him and died she would be reincarnated to a better life. She was beaten hard for the first week and never consummate the marriage but was thrown out into the well to die. As she was crying out for help and drowning, some of the DTS workers heard her, saved her, and ministered to her as she received inner healing. She then was empowered to become a famous seamstress and started a renown school for women in her community who were in her situation. At that school there is 100% conversion rate to Christianity! 

At first as I was hearing this, I felt mixed emotions of fear, thinking, I know I’m surely called back to go home. I’m not one of the long term missionaries. But then he encourages us to surrender our will to God to allow Him to take us to wherever he calls us to. To be honest as I think about my old life before DTS, I honestly don’t want to live life like that again. Doing the same thing over and over again. The missionary life is not glamorous but one thing I know is that I don’t want to ever live my life without Christ. So I invited him to take control of wherever he wants me to go. I expressed my fear and worries but told him that I trusted that He knows what’s best. I repented that I wanted to go to an outreach that was more of my preference and comfort and not for His glory. Even if He wants me to go to Missouri ( no offense) I said I would go. And that I wanted clear direction to where he is calling me after DTS. I don’t want to do life like I did before DTS. I did kept thinking about the small encounters I’ve been so thankful for pre-DTS...the ability to pray in my exam rooms for my friends and patients. How God instilled a heart to pray for my coworkers. I really wonder where God would send me. I know that the enemy is not happy with this victory and hardship will be ahead but I prayed to God that as long as you are with me and you provide people around me, I will go. 

April 22, 2021- Thursday

We focused on Intercessory prayer, which there is an actual book called Intercessory prayer by Joy Dawson that was recommended. Here are some key highlights:

-Definition for “Intercession”: Someone who is intervening on behalf of the other.  It is what Jesus has done and is currently doing. 

-Intercessory prayer is for others. In order to do so, you must understand God’s heart.

Steps of Joy Dawson’s Intercessory prayer

Praise God, Ask the Holy spirit to convict any unconfessed sins, Seek direction and illumination from the Holy Spirit, Deal aggressively with the enemy in your heart, don’t condemn others, Be filled with faith and expectancy for the prayer itself, Recall His character, Wait before God in silent expectancy, listening for his directions, Ask for interpretation but sometimes we won’t get an explanation, In obedience and faith, act on what God brings to your mind, believing, If possible, have your bible open while you pray, Pray for the Holy spirit to confirm and lead your prayers through the word,Give glory to God in the beginning and the end of your prayer

-The lie that you can’t hear God, is a lie that the enemy wants you to believe. 

We then prayed for the previous quarter Restorer’s group that is in Turkey, Armenia, and Albania. We shared what we felt God spoke to us and it was crazy without knowing this team what God revealed to us and how they were currently doing. 

Pastor Sunny then continued his lecture on hearing the voice of God. Here are some key points:

John 10:1-5 “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door but climbs in by another way, that man is a thief and a robber. 2 But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. 5 A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers.”

There are 3 different voices. Voice of God, My voice, Enemy’s voic

1 Corinthians 14:1-5 Pursue love, and earnestly desire the spiritual gifts, especially that you may prophesy. 2 For one who speaks in a tongue speaks not to men but to God; for no one understands him, but he utters mysteries in the Spirit. 3 On the other hand, the one who prophesies speaks to people for their upbuilding and encouragement and to comfort. 4 The one who speaks in a tongue builds up himself, but the one who prophesies builds up the church. 5 Now I want you all to speak in tongues, but even more to prophesy. The one who prophesies is greater than the one who speaks in tongues, unless someone interprets, so that the church may be built up.

So when we are not sure if this is from God or not, if our motive is for upbuilding, encouragement, and comfort, then it is not harmful. But as you practice, you will get better. We are not called to just study the word but practice it. 

Next we did an exercise where one person will be behind the board and write something no one knows, about their life, experience, or prayer request. In prayer, we will write down blessings for Him. We are not trying to do some sort of magic trick but trying to bless him and see if we are one in spirit. It was a really fun experience and he was blessed :)

April 23, 2021- Friday

This morning we were at Ohana court and prayed specifically for generation Z. I felt sad for their generation because of all the things their generation struggles with the enemy...the dominion of the enemy through social media, rampant mental health struggles, and other strongholds. 

Pastor Sunny’s last lecture for this week was focused on family. Here are some key points.

-God made family and church. Everything else was human made

-From the family we need to receive comfort, truth, and emotions. This is God’s intent

-Pastor Sunny openly shared some of his darkest secrets about his family which really opened my eyes to see that even the holiest of people can have a dark past. That we are truly all sinners, yet God uses the weakest to humble the strong. I truly started to believe that no mistake that I or anyone makes whether if it’s from our past, present, or future, is too big for God’s forgiveness and great blessings if we trust and follow Him. 

At work duty, we herded sheep which was a lot of our first time. Then we got off early! 

After dinner, N and I took a walk and ran into E. We all went back to our dorm room and watched our first movie together, Moana!

April 24, 2021- Saturday, our first team beach outing

I woke up and did some quick strength training before we went to pick up our packed meals for the weekend. I remember getting annoyed that the meals were not ready by 9am and I only had 10am but I had to repent and remember how difficult it must be for the volunteers to work on a Saturday. 

We went to Hapuna Beach which is about 40 minutes north from Kona.The sand was so much softer and the weather was kind of bipolar from windy, to sunny but thankfully it wasn’t scorching hot. The water was kinda cold but we all went in and enjoyed the waves. When we ate an amazing Korean meal made by the staff  and enjoyed so many snacks there. It was nice to just talk to some of the other team-members that I normally don’t talk to. I did have moments where I felt kind of lonely because of the language barrier but I tried to not let it affect this wonderful trip the staff prepared for us. I guess I just really missed my friends back at home. This worked out because I did catch up with S and J via facetime when I got home and I was able to share my past experience this week especially hearing the voice of God. We even tried it ourselves and remember I said that 5 people prayed that I was running...they were the other two and they had NO IDEA that other people prayed this for me. Overall this experience was such a blessing to my friends back at home and I was grateful for the chance to practice it with my friends.  

April 25, 2021- Sunday

This morning I woke up around 8am and slept probably the latest I’ve ever slept. Today was my first day attending Living stone church. The church’s location is awesome. It’s right next to the ocean. As I walked where the rocks are we spotted a sea turtle! 

The sermon spoke to me a lot today. The pastor reminded us how we are all called for a mission from God. It made me think more into what I’ve been wrestling with, what is God’s mission for me? He encouraged to take this verse as Nehemiah was called from being a cupbearer to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem as our life mission verse “ And I sent messengers to them, saying, “ I am doing a great work and I cannot come down” (Nehemiah 6:3).  He also talked about how we are to have faith arise in us to take courage to what God has called for us to do. C.S. Lewis said “ Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point”. I feel perhaps as God is calling me to take courage, I am currently in a season of being tested and have my faith refined. The pastor charged us to be careful and not fearful. Careful is more cerebral and fearful is more emotional. Careful is to plan ahead and to make progress, to be fearful is to be paralyzed due to the possible loss of what you have. I could relate to this as I have the tendency to be fearful. I felt the Lord prompting me to ground myself in the word and really have the Holy spirit minister to me especially in the midst of my fears and uncertainties. 

After service, I went straight home, ate lunch, and ran some errands. Later in the evening I went to my first zumba class with S and N. I had low expectations for this class but it was so fun! Right after class I went downtown by myself walked all the way to the pier. When I got there I didn’t expect it but was amazed at the view looking back at the island. It was really beautiful especially while the sun was setting and there was even a small rainbow. Even though I was alone most of Sunday, it was actually nice to have my alone time. 

Prayer requests:

1) Physical rest, strength, and endurance: Since our schedule is so packed and living with 4 other roomies in one room, I fall asleep around 11pm and wake up around 6am. I’m used to sleeping 8 hours and even though it’s not much of a difference, for me it is. It’s weird but I will wake up without an alarm alert but between 10am-5pm I’m very exhausted, sleepy, and it’s hard to stay focused. We are learning so much so I don’t want to miss any of this so this is frustrating at times. 

2) Loneliness. My teammates are very kind but there are times when they talk so fast I can’t quite understand nor do I want them to explain. Especially when they are sharing their prayer requests,I feel bad asking them to repeat it sometimes. Please pray for some english speaking friends of the same sage here that I hope to have as accountability. 

3) My mom’s planar fasciitis and dry eyes. My mom has been having issues with her foot and her dry eyes could really bother her at times. Please pray for physical healing, compassionate physical therapists, and for my mom to do what she needs to do to get better

4) Spiritual protection and endurance. God’s been revealing so much and I’m in a good place where a lot of fear that I carried was broken off. I do feel there will be some valleys too during DTS so please pray that I would know God’s love and truth to continually despite hardships. 

I’m looking forward to what week 4 will be like! Sorry if my writing doesn’t make sense but man blogging is a commitment and it’s hard to carve time since we are so busy but I want to share while it’s fresh in my mind! 

Mahalo,

Alicia

[whispersandwhiskerburn]

An All Hallows’ Haunting

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Reader take on a case featuring one of America’s oldest ghost legends: the Headless Horseman...who rides on Halloween. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 6,745....holy shit, how did that happen? Warnings: A few pieces of language, a bit of suspense...nothing really. Author’s Note: I tried to make this extremely canon-style in characterization, plot, everything. This is a late contribution to my dear friend @plaidstiel-wormstache‘s Halloween celebration (thanks for the prompt, patience, and proof-reading!). I actually met her last Halloween when she asked me to beta a The Nightmare Before Christmas x SPN fic , so when she hosted, I had to get a TNBC prompt for this fic: “She’s the only one who makes any sense in this insane asylum”. Look for it along with some familiar characters from Burton’s animated holiday classic. Feedback is always appreciated!

“Seriously, you guys don’t do anything for Halloween?”

You had found the Winchesters on a hunt back in January, and you and Dean had officially gotten together in April… this was your first fall with them and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. The younger one smiled wryly, “let’s just say it carries its own brand of nightmares.”

“Yeah, once you’ve dodged Samhain himself, the whole idea of celebrating the season kind of loses its shine…plus, you know, we’ve been kind of busy.”

You nodded, understanding. In the past few months you had been there as Dean darkened under the curse of the Mark and had helped the brothers patch it up after Sam had gone behind both of your backs to get it removed by Rowena. You understood why he had done it… and you couldn’t feel bad about it, no matter what happened with Amara.

You were thankful to have Dean back. You weren’t ashamed of that.

You tried to get them back to the lighter topics—a role you were used to filling with the Winchesters. “Come on! Costumes, candy, trick or treating, pumpkins… pie?” Dean chuckled, and you smiled, “fall has its plusses. Halloween’s only a few days away, and we haven’t made any plans!”

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N, if you’re planning to dress up, I’m all in for that.” Dean quit wagging his eyebrows long enough to dodge the French fry his brother tossed at his head.

“Sorry you two—your dress up activities are going to have to be postponed. It looks like we might have a case.”

Dean sat up, and so did you, ready to be a bit more serious. Sam was scanning the computer screen in front of him.

“Charlie” Sam struggled with her name and all three of you flinched, “flagged this when she uploaded the men of letters files and a bunch of the hunter’s journals that we pulled out of Bobby’s storage—a reoccurring haunting. Dean, you remember the Morton house with the janitor guy who showed up every leap year?” Dean nodded, and you shrugged.

“Kinda like that. Except the pattern on this one is much more spaced out, which is probably why no other hunter has ever caught it. Apparently, every 24 years there’s a rash of beheadings on Halloween near a place called Tarrytown, New York, about a half hour north of Manhattan. The residents link it to a local legend and get this—the spirit of a headless horseman.” Sam scoffed the last words and Dean shot a quizzical look at you.

“You mean the dude with the pumpkin chasing the goofy looking guy in the cartoon?”

“You’re talking about the short story by… Irving, I think?” You thought back to your community college English class— “’The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’. You’re telling me it’s real?”

Sam nodded, closing his computer. “According to Bobby, which is good enough for me. Looks like the horseman’s due to ride this year, so I’ll see you in the garage in ten?”

You slid back your chair, standing up at the same time Dean did. As Sam stalked off down the hallway, you pulled Dean close for a quick kiss.

“I’m taking a rain check on that dress up challenge, Winchester.”  

He settled his hands at the nape of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair.  “Oh, really? Have you got a French maid costume lying around somewhere?”

You kissed him again, then leaned back as your hands slid down his back to land on his narrow hips.

“Maybe. But now that you’ve put the idea in my head, I’m not gonna rest until I see this ass,” you squeezed his cheeks, and he settled his hips closer into yours, “in cowboy chaps.”

He was already leaning in for another kiss when he processed what you said, and leaned back to laugh—one of those good belly deep laughs that crinkled the corners of his eyes and brought an involuntary smile to your face. With everything going on, it was good that you were still able to make him let loose like that.

“Now come on, Cowboy. Let’s go take care of this horseman.”

He gave you a good ol’ boy wink and drawled, “yes ma’am.”

Trailing the Impala through the northern part of the country on your motorcycle had been a visual treat. You’d always enjoyed a long ride, the music in your one earbud the modern kind that Dean hated, and you could never get enough of, and the fall colors in the trees were just incredibly gorgeous.

They’d stopped a little way past Chicago for the night, and despite the good food, Sam and Dean had been in an irritable mood. Dean hated traffic and Sam had been trying to do research on the case, and had found that separating the fact from the fiction when it came to this famous ghost was a bit of a headache.

“It’s like researching Bloody Mary all over again,” he grumbled as they set off in the car again the next morning. You were relieved to get back to the drive—the brothers were less likely to be whiny when they actually got to the job.

You were surprised when you saw Dean flash his blinker, signaling a turn when the sign you just passed said Tarrytown was straight ahead. When he slowed at the next stop sign you pulled up beside driver’s door as he lowered the window, putting one foot on the ground as your bike idled.

“Sam’s found a current address to a contact from Bobby’s journal—a guy named Jack Bones. He lives kinda off the beaten track, but since we’ve only got two days till Halloween, we figured we’d stop there, see if he could fill in any blanks.”

You nodded your agreement, and Dean pulled out on the road again with you following.

It wasn’t a full ten minutes later when you reached the end of a rough driveway and found a huge garden, overflowing with pumpkins, complete with a sign detailing prices. You smiled, looking around to find the rustic house and it’s wrap-a-round porch. You decided immediately that you liked it, and whomever had decorated the porch with fall mums.

You had parked closer than the boys and you were already leaning down to smell the bright flowers when you heard the door slam on the Impala.

“Hello, there. Are you here to buy a pumpkin from the Pumpkin King?”

You looked up to see the skinniest man you’d ever laid eyes on—his eyes were sunken in, and for a moment, he seemed more like a walking skeleton than a human being. Then he stepped out into the sunlight, and you could see his bald head and wide welcoming smile.

You returned his smile, “no, sorry.  I’m looking for a Jack Bones, not a Jack-o-lantern.”

You saw Dean and Sam out of the corner of your eye as they walked up behind you and you stood up.

“That’d be me—call me Jack. Doll?” He called back through the screen door into the house, “were we expecting company?”

“Not to my knowledge.” The feminine voice was followed by striking older lady with shoulder length auburn hair wearing a colorful sundress despite the chilly October air.

Sam took a step forward, smiling disarmingly. “Hi, my name is Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean, and this is Y/N. We heard your name through Bobby—”

“Singer. Yeah he mentioned you two boys as well.” The smile was gone from the old man’s face and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Where is he? I’ve been expecting him for days.”

Sam and Dean exchanged looks and you saw a hint of pain flash across their faces. You took Dean’s hand on instinct, squeezing it in support. You saw Mrs. Bones walk closer behind her husband, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Jack, but Bobby died almost three years ago.” You kept your voice gentle, sad to give the news. You’d never met the man who had helped raise the Winchesters, but you knew he had been a great man.

Jack nodded, his smile tightening to a thin line. “I thought that might be the case. It sure is going to make this thing harder though.”

The silence then was thick and awkward until Mrs. Bones stepped in front of her husband, “I’m sorry for your loss. My name is Sally. Would you like to come in? I’ve got an apple pie cooling off—and I’ve always found that hard news and hard times are made lighter with good food.”

Jack seemed to shake off his melancholy and turned to look down at the woman beside him, smiling. “Thanks, Sally.”

He turned to face us, “I always listen to her--she’s the only one who makes any sense in this insane asylum of a town. You folks come on in and we’ll talk about what Bobby left you to do.”

Sam stepped up on the porch and Dean followed, your hand still folded inside his.

“Local tales differ on who the Hessian is—it gets tangled up with the Sleepy Hollow legend that made the town famous, but Irving didn’t write that story until 1819, after the Horseman had already ridden once twenty years before that.

“The real story gets mixed up with that quite a lot.”

Jack was leaned back, having swallowed his slice of pie in about four bites, and seemed ready to tell a story. Dean had scored two slices with a compliment to Sally’s cooking, and she looked on him fondly as he obviously relished every bite. You and Sam were more interested in what Jack had to say than the pie, but you were both taking small bites to be polite.

“I noticed—trying to separate fact from fiction online was difficult. If it hadn’t been for Bobby’s notes, I wouldn’t have believed there was really anything supernatural here.”

Sally laughed at that, “oh, there’s definitely something supernatural here. The Hessian’s ghost gets hyped up for the tourists, but we grew up here—we know the truth. The Hessian is the boogeyman that parents frighten their kids with…until the 24-year mark get close, then the newest generation gets told the truth.”

You put your fork down, sliding what was left of your pie towards Dean. “That was delicious, Sally, thank you. Can you two tell us what you actually know for sure about this ghost?” Sally nodded, then gestured to Jack to do the talking.

“Well, what is generally known by everyone who grows up here and who is willing to believe is fairly straightforward. The horseman, we call him the Hessian, was 24 years old when he was executed by beheading. The man was a murdering coward in life: he killed his superior officer to advance in the ranks of the British army, but when the battles started to get heavy with the Continental Army, he deserted his men. Most of his battalion died. He was captured, tried, and found guilty before being executed on Halloween in 1775.

“Except he comes back every 24 years—this will be his tenth visit. It always starts on the full moon in October when the Hessian rides away from where the battle was fought and into the woods. He rides again every night after that, retracing his desertion. And on October 31st, at least one person in the surrounding area loses his head, quite literally. Then the Hessian vanishes for another 24 years.”

Jack gathered up the empty pie plates after Dean scraped the last of yours clean. He moved to the sink to wash them off and Sally picked up the narrative with the smoothness of a couple who has been together for a long time.

“It’s not the full story, but it’s enough detail to convince most kids to stay out of the way of the Hessian. Not that it does much good. The victims of the horseman are found along his ride, but most of them go missing from their homes, and sometimes they are tourists.”

Dean spoke up for the first time since the pie appeared: “there’s got to be something connecting them.”

Jack turned around, wiping his hands on a towel as he smiled, “yeah, Bobby said the same thing. I didn’t believe in the Hessian at all when I was a kid, but that ended when I saw him myself.”

“Well, aren’t you Mr. Unlucky.”

Sally muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Mr. Stubborn maybe.”

Jack came back to his chair, either not hearing or not acknowledging his wife’s comment. “I’ve been around for three visits from the Hessian so far. The first time, I was barely a toddler, so that one probably shouldn’t count…but growing up hearing the stories, I always assumed they were complete crap. So, when the next visit was due when I was 26, I decided to find out the truth for myself.”

“And I told you not to. ‘It’s a mistake, Jack!’ I believe were my exact words.” Sally’s voice was scolding, and you couldn’t help smiling at Dean. They were honestly shaping up to be relationship goals.

Jack still pretended not to hear her and soldiered on.

“That year, ’67—the same year as that car of yours, I think—the full moon was early in the month, more than ten days before Halloween. After hearing so much about it my whole life, and then watching the whole town close up early superstitiously for six days in a row and the bars filled with gossip and whispers, I went out to see for myself what was going on.”

He went silent again and his eyes took on that look that older people always have when they look back on the past.

“We’ll leave it at the fact that I saw him that night. If you three are going after the Hessian, you’ll see him for yourself, and you’ll understand why I don’t try to describe him now.

“In 1991, the town prepared to weather the Hessian’s rides and kills again the best way they knew how—spread the truth to the next generation, close up the town early, laugh it off to the tourists… the usual.” Jack shook his head, his face grim.

“Three people died that year. I knew the Hessian was real, that he was coming, and I did nothing, we all did nothing. And three people died. When Bobby Singer showed up a few days into November and started asking around, it didn’t take him long to find me.

“He sat where you are right now,” he gestured to Dean’s chair, “and the two of us talked about the Hessian and ghosts and the supernatural until he convinced me that the victims had to have something in common.

“So, we started digging. And we didn’t stop until we figured it out. Bobby promised he’d be back this year, or he’d send you boys to finish the job. The horseman’s been riding the past two nights, and the night after next, anyone who has ever ducked a responsibility that resulted in the death of someone else is going to end up as headless as the Hessian.”

You and Sam looked at each other wide-eyed. You hoped you heard wrong, “you mean the horseman goes after cowards?”

Jack made a face like he didn’t know how to word something. Sally stepped into the silence, “not really. The horseman’s victims all have something in common—they had willingly chosen to do something, then failed, and their failure resulted in at least one death. One woman who was beheaded last time was a foster mom and the child accidently drowned when she wasn’t paying attention, another was a safety inspector who signed off on a building that was structurally unsound and collapsed on three people a year later.

“We think he’s not just reliving his failure when he rides away from the battle every night after the full moon. We think he’s also administering the same judgment he received against anyone who committed his crime, since so many died because he abandoned his post.”

The tenseness of Dean’s shoulders wasn’t something you’d seen since the Darkness had been released…which was probably part of the problem. His mind was at the same place yours and Sam’s had gone—Dean, having lost the Mark and released the Darkness on the world, was exactly the type of victim the horseman would go after.

“Are you three okay?” Jack was quick.

Dean stood up from his chair, nodding to Jack and Sally, “thanks for the pie and the help.”

Then he turned and walked out. You shot another look at Sam, gesturing to the older couple, hoping he would come up with some kind of explanation, then you followed Dean outside.

He was leaning against Baby, his eyes on the trees across the road, but much further away.

“Dean, you okay?”

Dean’s eyes didn’t even attempt to meet yours. “Oh, I’m awesome. It’s just been a long two days on the road, and apparently, we’ve got to find a way to kill a ghost when we don’t have a body to salt and burn. And, oh yeah, my neck’s on the chopping block, or Sam’s might be, depending on who this horseman decides to blame for Amara.”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, waiting for him to look at you. “Even if that’s all true, we’ve faced lots worse and come out on top. We’ll get through this too.”

You heard the door shut and Sam was walking out to you. Dean shifted slightly, and you backed up, giving him his space.

“I made our goodbyes and got directions to the place where the horseman rides. I also got Jack’s number in case we run into any trouble, or so we can tell him when the job’s done.”

Dean nodded, opening the car door and sliding in. “Let’s go find a hotel and make some kind of plan then.”

He slammed the door shut in a way that telegraphed that his head was still up his ass, so you walked towards your bike. You shrugged at Sam’s raised eyebrow, knowing he’d probably get an earful on the way into town.

As much as you loved the man, sometimes Dean spent too much time and effort dwelling on guilt and things he couldn’t control.

It had been a tense night. It had started as a somewhat reasonable discussion of possible solutions and past cases—everything from a woman in white, to a racist truck, to apparently even a ghost ship that hunted down people who killed family members… the Winchesters really did have quite a resume on spooks.

Soon it had devolved into sullen silences as Dean’s mood continued to worsen as he dwelled on the Amara situation and the guilt he and Sam shared for releasing her. You felt a part of the guilt, but not as much as the boys—it always seemed to you like, ever since they saved the world the first time, they could never get that weight of responsibility off their shoulders.

You had a different outlook. You did what you could, while you could, and let the rest take care of itself.

In the end, it was a grim group that headed out after sunset. According to Jack’s information, we could count on the Hessian to ride tonight, and he only ever appeared along the same path, but not always at the same spots along that path—apparently, he would vanish and reappear as he went.

Sam had gotten a map, and the plan was for the three of you to spread out along the line Sally had drawn, since the ghost wasn’t attacking anyone tonight or tomorrow, and try to spot him. You’d meet up after midnight when the ride was over and compare notes, and, hopefully, figure out a way to gank the bastard tomorrow night.

On the television, Janice Huff had predicted 56° F temperatures tonight, so you had dressed accordingly as the boys suited up in their flannels. Dean was staying with Baby, you took your bike, and Sam was dropped off in between the two of you. He was the fastest runner of the three of you, so it was the most logical way to go, but you could tell it only worsened Dean’s mood.

Something else for the man to worry over.

You were brooding over Dean—his weird connection with Amara, the guilt and pain inside him, his stubbornness—when you realized that a mist had crept over the ground.

That had not been a part of Huff’s weather forecast.

You gripped your salt-shotgun tightly in one hand and opened the video group call you’d set up between you and Winchesters with the other.

“Guys, you seeing this?”

Static.

“Dean? Sam?”

Nothing.

Awesome.

You tucked the phone away and straddled your bike. The mist was getting thicker and the temperature seemed to have dropped at least five degrees in the last few minutes.

You started the motorcycle, and instead of reflecting the light from your headlamp, the mist seemed unaffected by the bright light, but the darkness above the mist was pierced, letting you see nearly 20 yards away—just in time.

He was taller than you expected.

The horse was more shadow and mist than real, but the horseman on his back was much more substantial… or as substantial as a spirit ever seemed to be.

The shoulders seemed far too broad without a neck or head on top. His uniform was mostly navy blue, but covered in mud and scratches. The sound of hooves was thundering, drowning out the growl of the bike between your legs and the pounding of your pulse in your ears.

You raised your shotgun to your shoulder, the hair standing up on your neck as he drew closer seeming to aim straight at you, even though you knew you were several yards to the side of his path. You calmed yourself with the knowledge that the Hessian was only going to ride straight by. He was going to keep going. He was not going to attack you. He was—

He was right on top of you.

And he knew you were there.

It was an unnerving sensation—he had no eyes, no reaction, he didn’t once break stride, but he was aware of you. And his awareness was cold, cunning, and powerful.

You pulled the trigger without any conscious decision to do so.

The shot seemed deafeningly loud to you, as if everything else in the world had been muted. Your aim was dead on, and the ghost vanished immediately following your shot, leaving you alone on your bike.

Alone except for the lingering malevolent feeling of being watched and the slowly dissipating mist.

It took a lot to shake you up, but you were officially dreading this hunt. Despite your attempts to make light of your encounter with the Hessian, the boys, who hadn’t seen him last night, had picked up on the fact that something was off.

It might have had something to do with the new screaming nightmare you had added to your collection. It was part of the job, but, somehow, this hunt was different.

Sam was trying to be logical and supportive—asking details, treating you like a witness or a victim on a case in an attempt to gather information and help you get past it.

Dean was playing the part of angry-protective lover.

“If he’s intelligent, and capable of deviating from his pattern, that might be a good thing. It means we can distract him from his pattern, agitate him. We’ll get him to chase us across running water or onto hallowed ground—either one should be the same as salting and burning the bones.”

“Good. This son-of-a-bitch has got to go. But no more splitting up.” Dean had nearly had a heart-attack after hearing your shot last night and not being able to get a call through to you.

You were glad he had gotten over his brooding spell, but this suffocating over-protectiveness wasn’t really an improvement.

“We’ll get the job done, Dean, whatever it takes. I definitely got the feeling he’ll remember me after last night, and we all know that you two will make tempting targets for him considering his preferred victims. I agree that drawing him in shouldn’t be too difficult.” You fought back an internal shudder at the thought of being in that presence again, then scolded yourself internally.

You’d faced so much worse than this ghost.

You realized that you had been pacing the small area between the beds and the door in this crappy motel when you saw the worried glance the brothers traded.

“Guys, I promise, I’m fine. He didn’t touch me. I’m just…antsy.”

“Maybe you should stay behind, Y/N—”

“Dean—” Sam tried to warn his brother off… rather pointlessly. Dean was nothing if not stubbornly protective.

“If this thing has singled you out, maybe it’s not such a good idea.”

You stopped your pacing with your back towards Dean, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as you focused on the thought, he means well, he means well, he means well.

“And when you thought you or Sam might be the natural target? Did you think about tucking tail and running? Were you willing to take the coward’s way out and risk other people’s lives because of a possibility that you might be in danger? Be like the Hessian, you mean?”

You turned around to see him shifting uncomfortably on the bed and avoiding eye contact with you, because he knew that he would never have backed down from a hunt for that reason. Sam was pointedly looking at his computer and pretending he couldn’t feel the tension in the room.

Tonight was the last night the Hessian would ride without killing someone, at least traditionally. You had a feeling that your attack on him last night might have changed the status quo, but you didn’t have time to cajole Dean with reason.

Sometimes, the man needed to just be told what was what.

“I was on the job before we ever met, Dean. We all know the risks.” You gentled your voice, feeling guilty; you knew his reaction was instinctual and not intentionally insulting, “besides, we know the Hessian isn’t actually limited to his path—his victims get taken from their homes and hotels and left along the way. Staying away wouldn’t keep me any safer, and it certainly wouldn’t help gank this bastard.”

You went and sat next to him, and he finally made eye contact with you.

“So, let’s work together and figure out why he felt so much stronger than any other ghost I’ve ever tangled with. Sam? Any ideas on that?” You turned to face the younger Winchester as you threaded your fingers with Dean’s squeezing in confirmation that the two of you were okay.

He squeezed back.

“Well, there’s his age. Very few ghosts we’ve ever met have been haunting for 240 years. Then there’s the fact that he only seems to manifest for a week or two every ten years, which means he’s not really struggling with the pull of the veil and the mortal world the way most vengeful spirits do, so that might explain why he still seems methodical and not…” Sam trailed off, trying to think of a way to describe the average vengeful spirt you hunted.

“A rabid dog? On ghostly steroids?” Dean offered, and the three of you chucked, the tension finally easing a bit in the room.

Sam nodded, “exactly.”

You thought it out a bit, “and then there’s the fact that he seems to be linked with Halloween. If the legends are right, he was killed on the day, which is all kinds of supernaturally significant: crossing into the spirit world on the night when spirits have the easiest time crossing into the mortal world? And the full moon seems to have a role in this haunting and lore from all over the world links the lunar cycle with supernatural events. It’s no wonder he seems so much more than most ghosts.”

Dean squeezed your hand again, and you realized some of your inner dread had seeped into your voice while you spoke.

You forced yourself to sound more gung ho as you pulled your hand loose and clapped them together, “alright then! Let’s find us some old school holy ground or special running water to get rid of this thing once and for all.”

Dean studied you for a moment, and you knew he could see right through your false bravado. He let it go though, pulling out your computer bags from beside the bed so that you could join Sam in researching.

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”

It had taken a few hours, but you had found a suitable plot of holy land: the site of a colonial church. Dean had taken a certain amount of sadistic pleasure in the idea of forcing a redcoat onto that land to kill him, which you had laughed at, telling him that the ghost’s uniform had actually been blue.

It had been the last moment of frivolity of the evening as you headed out to set up the trap.

Dean had wanted to have Sam on your bike and the two of you in Baby for the taunt and chase scene. You had told him that was stupid, and you weren’t letting Moose ride your girl. You had both backed off when Sam pointed out that the best method would be to keep everyone in one place, since the Hessian might have the ability to separate individuals anyway.

No need to make it easier on him.

You took the backseat since Sam had such a hard time fitting back there without laying out like he was going to take a nap. You had decided to start off where you had seen the horseman last night, and you waited with the car off, all of your eyes peeled for any sight of the ghost or of the strange mist that had preceded him before.

It didn’t take long for the anticipation to burn away to the boredom of any other stakeout.

“Here’s what I don’t get. Why did he go to you in the first place?”

Sam seemed almost disappointed, though whether that was a weird type of jealousy for a missed opportunity or just that he was stumped over a thought he’d apparently been chewing on for a while, it wasn’t clear.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Dean turned to look at you, confused at your tone.

You kept your eyes out the window, even though the dark country view and the deserted lane wasn’t what you were really seeing.

“It’s another part of the job. We all accept responsibility when we take on a case. We promise ourselves that we’ll save everyone. We promise we’ll keep our loved ones safe.

“But we’re human. We hesitate. We make mistakes. And in this life, that means people die. It’s always been that way.”

You turned to look at Dean, hoping he would really listen to you. He needed to hear this even more than you needed to say it.

“So, when we lose people—family, like your parents, like Bobby; friends, like Kevin and Charlie, strangers like the ones that draw us to the cases we take on… we feel guilty about it. Even though we do all we can, we still feel like it’s all our fault, like we’ve failed in our responsibilities and someone else paid the price.

“And as long as we’re hunters, it will be that way, until we pay the price ourselves.”

There was a moment of silence in the car, then you continued in a low voice full of certainty. You understood your role in the world, and you understood this ghost.

“That’s why he’ll come after us. Not Amara or the Mark…it’s because we spend our lives taking on impossible fights, and we don’t back down even when we lose.” You looked back out the window, noting what might be the first wisps of mist. 

“This guy ran before the fight and died because of it. Even if we weren’t actively hunting him, he’d probably be coming after us because we’re everything he should have been and didn’t have the strength to be.”

A silence descended in the car again that lasted much longer than seemed necessary.

“Damn, Y/N. Deep much?”

You shot a smile at Dean, then pointed towards the thickening mist creeping over the ground. “Looks like we’re about to get this party started, so the philosophical discussions are going to have to be put on hold, boys.”

A moment later the sound of hooves began to vibrate the frame of the vehicle and the mist parted enough to see the insubstantial shadow horse and the much more intimidating headless rider cantering towards them.

“Go, Dean, now!”

Dean cranked up the Impala and hit the gas, shooting down the road. Despite the growl of the 550 horses under Baby’s hood, the supernatural soldier still seemed to be gaining.

“Dean, he’s gaining, go!”

“We’re almost at the church site, how far off is he?”

“50 yards…45 yards… C’mon Dean… 30 yards… 20…”

Dean’s wheels squealed as he turned almost 180° to stare back at the Hessian. The three of you piled out of the car quickly, Sam passing out the salt guns just in case.

Your heart was hammering, watching the horseman come barreling towards you and feeling that awful intent bearing down on you, calling you.

“C’mon, you son of a bitch, c’mon…”

Dean’s mutter grounded you, kept you from panicking as your pulse matched the pounding of the ghostly hooves—and when the sound cut off, so did your heart.

He was gone.

Barely five yards from the boundary line, the Hessian vanished from the lane.

But you could still feel the eyes, the malevolent power in the air, mixing with the mist and raising every hair on your skin.

“Where is he? Can you guys see him?” Sam and Dean didn’t respond, and you looked around frantically.

You were alone.

You pulled your salt-shotgun up to your shoulder and fought back the fear.

“Dean! Where are you?!”

The mostly full moon cut through the ghostly mist as if it wasn’t there and you turned and twisted, wishing you had your back to something, wishing the Winchesters were here.

Then you saw him, looming out of the mist in front of you.

The Hessian, unhorsed, beheaded, and wielding a one-handed sword and standing stock still. It was impossible to say that he was looking at you since he had no eyes, but every muscle and instinct in your body tensed for the fight you could practically taste in the air around you.

You braced and fired, pumped the gun to reload and fired again, all in seconds, sinking two rounds of rock salt center mass in the spirit in front of you.

“Y/N!” Dean was coming.

The Hessian vanished, but the presence was still there. But now, so was Dean, with Sam right behind.

“Are you okay? He snatched you somehow. The church grounds are about 10 yards that way.”

“He’s here somewhere. I got him with rock salt, but he’s not gone. I can tell.”

“There!” Sam pointed at the stalking figure of the headless man and all three of you aimed, but only Sam and Dean got a shot off this time. The ghost vanished, but the anger in the air seemed to increase, the mist having risen from ankle to waist high.

“Guys, we have to get him closer to the border line, force him over somehow.” You started backing towards the direction they came from and you fell into a familiar formation, you leading the way, Sam watching the retreat and Dean between the two of you, alternating from side to side to cover as many angles as possible.

“He was supposed to chase us over the line. How the hell do we get him across now?”

You could see the car ahead and knew you were close to the boundary line, but Dean had pointed out the main problem now.

“I’ve got an idea. Can you two buy me a few minutes? Keep him distracted.” Sam passed you, heading for the Impala while you and Dean went back to back to narrow the angles.

“C’mon you British asshat! Aren’t you sick of running away like a little bitch?”

You loved the man, but Dean was never good with subtlety.

The Hessian formed right in front of him, sword swinging at neck height for the decapitating blow. “Y/N, duck!” You dropped and rolled, coming up on one knee with your gun up. Dean was blocking the sword strokes with his shotgun, but each hit drove him back a step, the power of each swing enough that Dean was quickly losing ground, the sound of metal on metal clanging through the air.

You couldn’t get a clear shot off, so you got up and ran closer, not knowing what you were going to do, but knowing you had to do something.

“Y/N, take this!”

Sam was there, knocking your gun away and shoving something cold, heavy, and metallic into your hands.

“Clothesline him!” He pointed to one side of Dean who, you now realized, was deliberately losing ground to draw the Hessian closer to the border line.

You ran, gripping the metal in your hands tightly as it dragged then went taunt.

“Dean, hit the ground!” Sam’s voice was loud and just in time to avoid hitting Dean with the chain that you realized was stretched between you and Sam. Dean dropped, and though you expected the chain to go through and dissipate the ghost, instead it hit him square in the back, hard enough that you and Sam both swung closer towards him, your momentum dragging him forward.

The chain wrapped around the horseman, dragging him forward the last few feet and across the border onto what used to be church property in his time, and what was still considered hallowed ground.

The chain grew hot in your hands as the Hessian shook and burned, the air growing sharp as the cold intelligent hate you had felt since his appearance crystallized into a mind-piercing screech of pain.

He flickered, flickered, and vanished.

The chain fell to the ground, the mist vanished, and, most telling of all, the malevolent feeling that had been present for every moment of the Horseman’s presence was gone completely.

You flexed your hands, slightly burned and sore from gripping the chain, as you walked closer to Sam and Dean just a foot away from where the Hessian disappeared.

“You guys okay?”

Dean was standing up, brushing dirt off his knees and his now very scarred gun. He nodded briefly, but couldn’t seem to find words. Sam shook his hands, ran them through his hair then shrugged, “I’m fine. You?”

You nodded then kicked at the heavy chain laying on the ground, “what is so special about this thing?”

Dean leaned over and picked it up. “It was Bobby’s. We used it before on a ghost—a buruburu, actually.”

He seemed preoccupied with his thoughts as he hauled it back to the trunk, so you turned to Sam for further explanation.

“It’s an iron chain etched with spell work. When he didn’t follow the plan, I had to think fast.” Sam shrugged, like it had been no big deal to make that leap. As much as you could admire the looks of them, sometimes, you were amazed by the brains alone inside these Winchesters.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you did. Anyway, you’d better call Jack, let him know that Tarrytown’s Hessian is gone for good.” Sam nodded, taking his phone out as you walked over to Dean.

He had just finished putting away his gun and the chain, but when he heard you, he turned and pulled you into his arms. You felt the shudder of relief go through him and relaxed a bit yourself now that it was over.

It had been a close one.

You stood up on your tiptoes and found his mouth with yours, pressing a sweet slow kiss to his full lips. Just as it was starting to heat up, you leaned back and gave him your coyest smile.

“And as for you, Monsieur Cowboy,” you said in your best approximation of a French accent, “I believe we have some Halloween plans back at the bunker.”

Dean’s smile was predatory as he pulled you into another kiss, “oui, m’dame.”

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[elizabethrobertajones]

2x13, aka I'm  now up to a very solid bullet point no.4 on the list of Why And How To Ship Destiel In Seasons 1-3, and I probably need to put it under a cut because this episode is ridiculous. You all probably know it but I want it in one place and this time I'm a bit more awake so adding a few meta thoughts here and there :P

2x13:

TELEVANGELIST You don't have to suffer, you don't have to be lost. The lord is talking to you right now; he's saying, you are my child and you have a purpose! You think God forgot about you? I tell you no! All you got to do is listen! Can't you just hear those angels singing? Isn't it beautiful? It's time. It's time to receive the message he's sending. It's time to listen to the Word of God! Do you hear the glory? I said, can you hear it? I said, can you just hear the glory?

Once again, these 2 exchanges about purpose...

4x01:

DEAN Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell? CASTIEL Good things do happen, Dean. DEAN Not in my experience. CASTIEL What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved? DEAN Why'd you do it? CASTIEL Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.

4x02:

DEAN Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it. SAM Why not? DEAN Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me? SAM Dean -- DEAN I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy. SAM Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs. DEAN Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by... God. SAM Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat.

& here, this is an interesting one I'm sure someone's put the two visually side-by-side already with them both sitting in a hospital staring up and generally Anna using the same sort of aesthetic, but in word choice they compare as well -

GLORIA I've never felt better. SAM So, no disturbances lately? GLORIA You mean am I stark raving cuckoo for cocoa puffs? SAM I didn't say that. GLORIA It's all right. I know what people must think.

4x09:

ANNA I was trying to warn them. PSYCHOLOGIST Warn who? ANNA Everyone. Forget it. It was stupid. PSYCHOLOGIST What were you trying to warn them about? ANNA Look... I get it. You think I'm nuts. If I were you, I'd think I was nuts. But it's all true.

Some more obvious side by sides...

2x13:

GLORIA I know, it sounds strange. But what I did was very important. I helped him smite an evil man. I was chosen. For redemption.

4x16:

CASTIEL Yes. When we discovered Lilith's plan for you, we laid siege to hell and we fought our way to get to you before you— DEAN Jump-started the apocalypse. CASTIEL And we were too late. DEAN Why didn't you just leave me there, then? CASTIEL It's not blame that falls on you, Dean, it's fate. The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it. You have to stop it.

(Ignoring all the earlier stuff, this is what they essentially put Dean to work doing between his random resurrection and telling him it was all just a scam to soften him up for being Michael's vessel. He was SUPPOSED to be filled with a righteous purpose and brought back after doing unspeakable evil in Hell to be redeemed by his actions/choices... Which being possessed would have supposedly to them been the ultimate redemption Dean could ask for... I think he and Cas are seeing right through it by this point but still, it makes it more clear than anything else so far what they ACTUALLY wanted him for)

2x13:

SAM Yeah. Gloria Sitnick. And I'm not so sure she's crazy. DEAN But she seriously believes that she was ... touched by an angel?

4x02:

SAM Well, then tell me what else it could be. DEAN Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel.

(I like that one because of the way Dean changes the reference when it's about him - after all he's been through he can't imagine anything good happening here so the more innocent "touched by an angel" reference gets corrupted into an attack on himself. And by "like" I mean "AAAAAAH" *clutches Dean girl feels and curls into a ball to weep*)

2x13:

DEAN Well, little odd yes, supernatural maybe. But angels? I don't think so. SAM Why not? DEAN (as if it's obvious) 'Cuz there's no such thing, Sam.

4x01:

CASTIEL I'm an Angel of the Lord. DEAN Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing.

Bonus refuted nonsense line coming out of Dean's mouth just to prove that the show wants you to know with hindsight that this episode is the biggest prank the universe ever pulled on Dean "literally married to an angel" Winchester:

DEAN Yeah, you know what? There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass.

(repeated conversation from Faith to tie 1x12 to 2x13 with reminding us of Dean's stance about believing only the stuff you see bexause these are stepping stones to Dean being proven epically wrong - seemingly culminating in the end of this episode but really just to soften him up for later and I am convinced again that Michael or someone orchestrated this whole little thing for Dean to witness in order to make him a bit more credible and properly awed by divine wrath... Anyway I won't quote all this back to back stuff about seeing is believing but Dean's stance hasn't changed)

2x13:

DEAN You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?

2x13:

SAM (nodding to a painting on the wall) Father, that's Michael, right?

#no

FR. REYNOLDS That's right. The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons. Holy force against evil. SAM So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant? FR. REYNOLDS Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, uh, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. "An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified."

4x02:

DEAN I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks. CASTIEL Read the Bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier.

(And Dean's problem might be that this 'wrathful' thing didn't stick in his mind because the 'guardians' thing was his impression - what Mary told him, the idea he clung onto all that time with the kind of miserable feeling that it was too good to be true... But bonus points for clearly aligning Michael with what they do and we know with hindsight, it's talking specifically about Dean.)

2x13:

DEAN I mean, what's next, are you going to start praying every day? SAM I do. DEAN What? SAM I do pray every day. I have for a long time. DEAN (startled) The things you learn about a guy.

(... the temptation to add the "I prayed to you Cas, every night!" gif from 8x02. But yeah not the point although a very good point others have made. I love that it establishes that Sam has a completely different relationship to faith and angels than Dean - he's been fighting that it might be angels all episode but this point is where we get a statement on his feelings - that he HAS faith. Sam has faith to be broken, Dean has no faith for the sake of deeply, deeply complicating that for him. And in the end faith is a crappy thing to have anyway in this universe when it comes to higher powers, but when it comes specifically to angels and Cas within that, the lesson is very, very different for Sam as it is for Dean. Mittens just reminded me of Sam casually talking about Cas's vessel as an "it" for example, while Dean thinks of Cas as "he" in any situation, and that's from the end of season 11.)

2x13:

SAM It just, it appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know? Like, like peace. Like grace.

oh boy, angels and peace. This is also a great parallel to 12x19 and what happened to Cas with Jack - he sees a future with peace, and Jack uses him but other than giving Cas a very obvious new purpose he doesn't change at his core. Sam is still Sam here, he just utterly believes that he has to go kill this guy and that it's right.

(Jury still out on Jack and what exactly this future is...)

DEAN Well, what's to tell? She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her. There's no higher power, there's no God. I mean, there's just chaos, and violence, and random unpredictable evil th, that comes out of nowhere, and rips you to shreds.

(How Dean dies in 3x16 because fuckin' OUCH he's smile-crying through this incredible speech. I think his eyes are still wobbling with tears even when I have it paused)

4x02:

DEAN If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason -- just random, horrible, evil -- I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?

Wait I skipped Mary entirely.

DEAN Okay, all right. You know what? I get it. You've got faith. That's — hey, good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier. I'll tell you who else had faith like that — Mom. She used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me. SAM You never told me that. DEAN Well, what's to tell? She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her.

*screams at this incoherently*

Favourite nice bit: makes 1x01 retroactively Destiel because Dean puts this into his life story off-screen. Overt awful use of this line is probably 5x13:

MARY Ohh...quite a kick there. Troublemaker already. It's okay, baby. It's all okay. Angels are watching over you.

Her obliviousness to the Grand Plan at the worst moment in season 5 for feeling they can resist the Grand Plan comes after Dean ironcially names Team Free Will sarcastically and miserably.

Buuut then Mary comes back and everything she ever seemed to have built is all fucked up - her family is gone, her sons are grown up, John is dead, she caused an apolocalypse... But hey, one silver lining - her first real interaction with the concept of the wider family they've made on the other side of all that is seeing there is an angel that watches over her sons after all... He's not exactly what Dean was expecting and he's not what Mary would have expected for totally different reasons, but hey, there he is :')

Although not like this is even something that escapes criticism/being taken too far (it was Cas's downfall in season 6 and 12) - I think this bit from 12x19 shows best how Cas is acting like this in a way where watching over them is crossing a line from fighting with them to feeling like he has to protect them more than they'd want him to

Kelvin: You're doing the right thing, you know. Committing to Joshua's plan, putting angelkind above the Winchesters. I mean, your reputation in Heaven is – Castiel: This has nothing to do with my reputation. I am doing this for the Winchesters. I-I stole the Colt to keep them out of this mission and to keep them safe from Dagon, and I – I will kill this girl so that Sam and Dean don't have to.

Anyway.

2x13:

DEAN That's funny, actually. Seriously. If Father Gregory's spirit is around, a séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest. SAM But if it's an angel, it won't show. Nothin' 'll happen. DEAN Exactly. That's one of the perks of the job, Sam: we don't have to operate on faith. We can know for sure. Don't you wanna know for sure?

I am in a world of pain about Dean wanting to summon an angel to prove it's not their because nothing's out there looking out for them and aaall those times Cas isn't answering when he needs him >.>

That's not a firm meta thing that's just me clutching my heart and sobbing

FR. REYNOLDS Oh my god! Is that ... is that an angel? SAM No, it's not. It's just Father Gregory.

UGH I hate watching Sam's faith take a kicking. Considering how shitty angels and God are to him and how he's the one set up to have it all kicked out from under him... Bleh :P

FR. GREGORY Those innocent people are being offered redemption. Some people need redemption. Don't they, Sam?

Also pointing out again Sam feels guilt/is one of these people who needs redemption, to go along with how terrible he feels about finding out what John said about him/being hunted by other hunters. ... I forget how this episode is used to make Sam feel bad in the here and now because it's so focussed on Dean and where his arc GOES.

...

Anyway this was meant to be a basic compare and contrast post and I got a bit carried away and by a bit I mean a lot but YIKES this episode... It's just such a great little building block episode for a ton of arcs which are really rarely covered before they're in your face relevant.

[margarittet]

Season 12 was “Supernatural” in Buffyverse  + The post-season 12 guest-host theory (aka 2in1 theory)

Okay, so I had the weirdest feeling this whole season that I have seen all of this before. The BMoL storyline. The idea of trying to get rid of all the monsters by using technology. The meta finale. Cas counting days since Dean had been gone. The gay storyline. The red-haired, all-powerful, sassy witch. The supernatural child that will most likely kill the mother at birth. The parallel universes. Another supernatural being (born already in full form) that has power of mind control to make everyone her spiritual slaves, with a view of bringing utopia-like new world order. A lover dying in front of another lover.

And only now I realise that yep, I have. The Buffyverse.

Season 12 of “Supernatural” was Buffyverse extravaganza, but done so subtly that it took me a while to realize that it’s not a reference here and there, but whole themes and visuals borrowed straight from the Whedonverse.

BMoL = The Initiative:

The military-like organization that has an idea to get rid of monsters by using strategy, science and technology. They think that the hunters/the slayer fail because they use more “old-fashioned” methods of killing (plus they kill one monster at the time), and these organisations are quantity over quality. In the end it never works, as demon knives and wooden stakes prove to be much more efficient, and, let’s be honest, million times cooler than sterile corridors of the base.

The double meta finale: “Who we are”/“All along the Watchtower” vs. “Primeval”/“Restless” (Buffy finale, season 4)

Joss Whedon pretty much had done everything on horror-fantasy-tv before it was cool. He had done the best musical episode, he had done “Buffy isn’t real, Buffy is actually in mental hospital”-flipped reality episode, and he had done the greatest meta finale of all time - “Restless”. The whole episode is just the main characters sleeping after the “actual”, action-packed finale (4x21 “Primeval”, a lot like “Who we are”), where they were fighting the Initiative (here BmoL).

“Restless”, the afterthought (extra) finale, is just a whole episode of subtextual character analysis and foreshadowings for the future seasons, cloaked as several interweaving dream-sequences. It’s brilliant, it’s perfect, and if you see it for the first time, you probably miss every single meta-hint in there. I thought it was a weird episode that served no purpose, before I read some explanations. It’s genius. I can see where Dabb got his idea for the two-part meta finale that we got this year.

Cas channeling Spike:

Oh, Spike, my all-time favourite, sarcastic British vampire, and hopeless romantic lover of Buffy the blonde heroine. What is it with immortal beings falling for humans?

When Buffy died at the end of season 5, he counted every single day since her death. At the end of the show, he goes through a series of trials, and gains a soul to be worth her (I hear they actually get together in the comic books, so I guess it worked.)

Willow the all-powerful red headed bisexual witch and Tara the good lesbian enchantress, aka if this is where Supernatural writers get their pointers as to how to do queer, we are sooooo safe.

Willow and Tara are historic. Not only were they one of the first same-sex couples in modern pop culture, but their kiss in season five was also one of the first ever lesbian kisses on tv. Willow is gloriously bisexual, even though she isn’t called that on screen (it is just implied that she switched from hetero to gay). But that is not all - their relationship is never shown in any way but as beautiful, supportive, normal, loving (except for the drama and the end, but that’s Joss Whedon for you), and socially accepted. Buffy is a little surprised as Willow comes out, but generally speaking, coming-out in the Buffyverse is painless. Willow and Tara are in no way defined by their sexuality, and changing Willows orientation did not change the show in one bit. It was amazing.

I think we can expect a similar level of historic importance once we get a kiss between our own bisexual hunter and his angel lover.

I was in Heaven, why would you bring me back? aka post-resurrection depression of Buffy and Mary

In “Buffy”, the characters’s don’t know for the longest time that Buffy was in Heaven (they thought they were getting her out of Hell, which is the stupidest character moment ever - why would Buffy be in Hell, with all the good she had done?) It turns out she was actually in Heaven, at peace with her mother - just like Mary was at peace in Heaven with John. Both Buffy and Mary can’t find their place after the ressurection, they both don’t feel anything, they try to find some coping mechanism to deal with being disconnected (sex, hunting - both of them). With Buffy sex works, with Mary hunting works. In the end they started feeling it again at least a little bit, because they know they have friends/family/lovers they belong with here on Earth (although I fully expect Mary to go back to Heaven at the end.)

The supernatural child that will most likely kill the mother at birth. The parallel universes. Another supernatural being (born already in full form) that has power of mind control to make everyone her spiritual slaves, with a view of bringing utopia-like new world order.

This is all “Angel” - one of the best spin-offs ever made, and it’s a crime it got cancelled after season 5 (apparently, it was all a mistake, as Joss Whedon pushed his studio to give them an early renewal - so that the actors would not have to worry about finding new jobs - but the studio couldn’t do it at that time, so they cancelled the show instead. Idiotic move, really, since the rating and the reviews were great, and now we have a cut-in-the-middle story that could have been so much more than it already was. Still, it’s great.)

Anyway. This show really liked its weird pregnancies and supernatural births. I knew from the beginning that Kelly would neither give a regular birth, nor survive it - because as I said: I HAVE SEEN IT BEFORE.

In “Angel” there are two supernatural pregnancies: the vampire Darla (who got pregnant with Angel, and gave birth to superbaby and the most annoying teenager on tv, Connor) and Cordelia (who first was possesed by Jasmine, a goddess with a plan to make everyone happy, no matter whether they like it or not. Cordelia was later brainwashed to sleep with Connor, and create a baby that would be a vessel for Jasmine.)

As Darla was supposed to give birth to Connor (a baby with superpowers), she staked herself so that she’s turn to dust and the baby was just…was left behind? On a sidewalk? The baby was soon stolen from Angel, taken to a parallel universe (with a different time speed, so that baby became a teenager in no time), and later brought back. (I was praying they wouldn’t do something like this with Jack the Nephilim).

Cordelia gave birth in a same way that Kelly did, with Jasmine just jumping out of her body fully grown, in a halo of golden light, no less. Cordelia survived, but went into coma that she never woke up from (ugh, I thought you were a feminist, Joss.)

Jack the Nephilim is a mix of Jasmine and Connor

Jasmine was a goddess who made all of the people in Angelverse (except Fred) into her spiritual slaves by making them believe in the utopian future full of happiness and no pain. Personally, she believed that (withouth her mind control) there was no good nor evil, just a lot of grey areas, but this was the easiest way to make people love her and worship her. She is practically Jack/Amara.

Connor is a teenager when he comes back from the parallel universe with a mission of killing Angel (who he believed was his enemy, not his father.) He is an annoying boy with superpowers (as he is a son of a vampire with a soul, and one without), and I really hope Jack will be nothing like him, because, ugh, l liked the actor, hated the characterization. If Buffyverse/Angelverse were good at something, they really knew how to write real, full-blooded annoying teenagers.

A lover dying in front of another lover: Willow and Tara, Fred and Wesley vs. Dean and Cas

The (almost) perfect lesbians were brutally separated, and Tara stayed dead, sending dark!Willow on a killing spree. I don’t see it happening here, since Dean already went darkside after losing Charlie, so yeah, check, done!

Fred Burkle was this amazing character (played by even more amazing Amy Acker that you may recognize). A genius physicist with PTSD after being sent to a pararell universe, and living as a slave/runaway for many years until Angel saves her.

Fred’s death was the most painful moment of television IN MY LIFE. Fred and Wesley just recently got together after several seasons of dancing around each other, and they were SO HAPPY. So glad Cas died before he and Dean got together, because I would not survive one of those deaths again.

BUT! Here I come to my 2in1 (gettit? Like the promo!) theory of hosts and guests and season 13:

FRED, ILLYRIA, CAS AND THE MESS OF HYBRIDS THAT THEY WERE HINTING ON THE WHOLE SEASON.

Fred Burkle died because she was curious. She was a scientist. She opened something she shouldn’t have: a sarcophage that was brought to her lab, and got possesed by the spirit of the goddess Illyria that slowly took over her body practically killing Fred. Fred died being hold by Wesley, her lover. It’s absolutely heartbreaking.

But Fred didn’t really die: her body got taken over by Illyria (who was an awesome character, but SHE WASN’T FRED), and we were supposed to find out later that Fred was still there somewhere. In the end of the show Illyria fights alongside the other characters against the coming apocalypse (and dragons), and Fred is believed to be dead. Fade to black.

THE THING IS: THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THE LAST SEASON.

This dropped Illyria/Fred storyline is somewhat legendary in the industry. The plan was to have Illyria start feeling Fred slowly regaining her consciousness inside the body, and by help of Wesleys love she was supposed to eventually come back to her body (even though everyone believed she was dead), with Illyria leaving.

Now THIS DISCUSSION yesterday made me think about this. I started thinking what could’ve happened to Cas that would make him go all dark!Cas. And I figured out the parasite/host/guest theory.

I got this theory in my head partly because of Fred and Illyria, and partly because of Stephanie Meyer’s book: “The Host”. The story there is about aliens (“Souls”) that possess human bodies and that use them to move around.

The main human is possesed by a Soul named “Wanderer” (you know, like Misha’s new character on IMDb.com) (@tinkdw, @amwritingmeta, you may wanna check this out). The Soul is a lot like Castiel: tries to understand humans, is horrified by violence, is learning how to feel, and is almost completely unable to lie to humans. Melanie, the host, somehow survived the parasite Wanderer being implanted into her body, and is trying to regain control of it. Melanie is passionately in love with another human (Jared), and shares a very strong bond with her brother (who she is extremely protective of). Wanderer slowly starts to empathize with her host to the point that she was going to kill herself to give Melanie her body back, but Melanie has grown to love her parasite like a sister. In the end Wanderer is moved to another body, and Melanie regains her own.

2in1 is a theme that keeps coming back this season. Both the two first episodes of SPN season 12 and the two last were 2in1 stories. The hybrids. Light and dark. The nephilim being a hybrid of angels and humans. Day and night. The dualisms. Male and female characteristics. Dean’s double sexuality, etc. etc.

The idea is this: Cas got possesed by some dark force while on the other side the first time - I have no idea what it’d be, it can be AU!Cas, an other angel, dark Anna, or anything else really, and has been struggling to regain possesion of his body ever since. That other force feels the Nephilim is the answer to the AU’s war problem. We see Cas killed, and yes, his angelic grace has burnt out, so he is not Castiel anymore - but let’s not forget he is not like other angels: he has a body. He has a soul. And his soul is still intact ("Souls are living batteries. They're full of energy. They're full of light. Each one is as powerful as... 100 suns?” Cas and the Sun.) 

So I expect Cas to wake up, but his body is now completely possesed by this dark force from the AU, but HE IS NOT DEAD, EVEN THOUGH HE SEEMS SO TO DEAN (like Fred, or Melanie.) Over the course of the first half of the season we have tortured Dean who has to deal with Cas’ death while seeing him walk and talk - but it’s not Cas! (The ever-present theme of what makes you “you”.) But once Dean realised how much he loved Castiel, Cas starts to re-emerge, fighting for his body - and Dean will help. Cas will come back to his body, but since his grace burnt out, he is no angel anymore.

So yeah, I headcanoned yesterday that Cas was possesed by something after the first time he goes to the rift!verse, and it starts to look more and more plausible. I am also positive it will end well, and Dean’s love will have everything to do with it.  I don’t know yet how it all fits together, but there is something there.

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

[Review] THE HOUSEMAID is a Haunting Tale of Love and Revenge

I’m not a learned man. That’s why I love watching films that send me to the internet to devour as much information as possible about the circumstances surrounding the movie. There’s nothing better than watching a film then falling down a Wikipedia rabbit-hole for the rest of the night. The Housemaid, written and directed by Derek Nguyen in his feature film debut, is exactly one of those films. One whose richly textured visuals and bloody historical setting create a story that needs nothing from the supernatural to make it terrifying.

Set in 1953 when Vietnam was under French colonial rule, The Housemaid follows an orphaned girl named Linh (Kate Nhung) as she cold-calls a rubber plantation looking for work as a, you guessed it, housemaid. This plantation has been the site of extreme brutality and murder, both at the hands of the colonizers and the native Vietnamese workers. This has earned the home and grounds a reputation for being haunted. Linh is a brave young woman, however, whose only fear comes from the sky in the form of falling bombs. During her short stay at the plantation, she manages to fall in love with the French landowner, Captain Sebastien Laurent (Jean-Michel Richaud). Pretty sweet, right? Well, this act of seduction awakens something from the Captain’s past, and it is out for blood.

Linh arrives at the estate, barefoot and bloody, after walking 40 kilometers in the pouring rain. While she should have been turned away like the vagrant she is, this plantation has a hard time keeping their workers due to the rumors of spooky ghosts that abound. She is reluctantly brought on as a housemaid and quickly sets to taking care of the home. All the while, she hears crying coming from empty rooms and catches a black sprite fluttering about the upstairs hallway. When the Captain returns from battle, shot in the stomach by the resistance and nearly dead, his cook decides to use “Eastern Medicine” (aka witchcraft) to save his life. It does the trick, but it also raises the ghost of the Captain’s dead wife, a woman driven mad by loneliness who then decided to drown their infant child and herself. As the bodies begin to stack up, it’s only a matter of time until the vengeful spirit finds her husband and Linh and attempts to exact her revenge.

The Housemaid is such a beautifully shot film, it immediately draws comparisons to other romantic horror films such as Crimson Peak, A Ghost Story and Hitchcock’s Rebecca. The cinematography from Sam Chase thrusts you directly into the lush green of the Vietnamese countryside. The stark, limbless rubber tree trunks are shrouded in mist, making them look like lonesome fingers reaching up to grasp an eternal companion. The ghosts of former workers that inhabit the forest are almost ethereal in the way they stalk the living, making it sometimes difficult to distinguish them from the roiling fog. Every frame of this film is beautifully shot and dressed by production designer Jose Mari Pamintuan, so much so that the film was a huge box office hit when originally released in 2016.

The scares in The Housemaid are few and far between. There are a few conventional jump and stalking scares that forced me to watch the screen through my fingers, but the majority of the film relies on atmosphere and tension to cause unease in the viewer. This tension is broken too often, however, by the love story unfolding between Linh and Sebastien. Just when the spirits in the forest begin to do their worst and the visage of the former Mrs. Laurent starts to slash and chop, we are treated to a ten-minute meet-cute involving Sebastien teaching Linh to drive a car or inviting her to eat dinner with him. Some films can find this balance, but unfortunately for The Housemaid, these romantic scenes run too long. Then, after a kiss or frolic between our two lovebirds, Nguyen picks right back up with the menace surrounding their home and relationship. It makes it feel like you’re watching two completely different films, inter-spliced in a way that prohibits you from getting completely invested in either.

The true horror in this film lies not with the spooky ghosts, but rather with the true historical villainy perpetrated by the colonizers and their Vietnamese sympathizers during the First Indochina War. We see glimpses of the groundskeeper Mr. Chau (Kien An) as he keeps things running within the plantation. He acts with such brutality and disdain towards his fellow Vietnamese workers that he freely admits to chaining them up to starve and whipping them to death for trying to run away. He, because of the station given to him by the French landowners, loses all sense of his Vietnamese heritage. He no longer sees his fellow countrymen as his equals, instead he calls them “ingrates” and beats them for the slightest of infractions. This is a horror that often happened in colonized countries, where the masters gave favor to some so that they would keep the others in line. They turned loyal countrymen into informants ready to even turn in their family members for the smallest amount of thanks from the plantation owners. The Housemaid really focused on this dark side of colonized life, and in the meantime showed us that the true terrors are found inside the living, not the dead.

All in all, The Housemaid is a gorgeous romantic horror film that tries to pack a little too much into its quick 105 minute run time. Director Derek Nguyen didn’t re-invent the wheel with his scares, in fact most of the film is blood-less and tame, but he did inject some real-life horror into the story. This forced the uninformed like myself to try to educate ourselves about what life was like in Vietnam before the start of the great war. Unfortunately for the film, it jumped back and forth between romance and horror too often, and was unable to find a balance and pace that allowed the viewer to invest in the story. This means that by the time the film finds it’s way to its fantastic twist ending, you have a hard time caring about any of the characters involved.

2.5/4 Eberts

  The film is currently being written into an American remake by Oscar-Winner Geoffrey S. Fletcher (Precious: Based on the Novel “Push” by Sapphire), which will hopefully bring these themes of colonization and the dehumanization of workers and slaves to an American audience.You can catch The Housemaid on VOD in most television markets in the U.S. and Canada.

Check out the film and let us know what you think in our Official Facebook Group. Keep an eye on Nightmare on Film Street as we will be covering the progress made with the American remake of the film.

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