#the portrait is bitchin and i found it while looking up

[britneyshakespeare]

The actor Junius Brutus Booth in costume as Edmund Mortimer in Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part 1 (1823), painted by John B. Neagle

[oneforthemunny]

🦇🍯🧺 (i lava u babe)

mafia!eddie, fluff, domesticity based. (lava you too)

"There?" Eddie grunted, a ringed hand wrapped around the edge of the portrait, muscles screaming at the lift of the ridiculously heavy painting.

"Can you go a little bit higher?" You hummed, lips twisted in thought.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me-"

"-Shut up." Eddie snapped, cutting off Gareth's disdained mutterings. "Just lift and quit being such a pussy, Emerson."

"There?" Eddie's tone was strained more, clipping with a touch of irritation he tried to mask.

"That's perfect." You beamed making Eddie's heart soar at the sight.

"Mark it, Jeff. Hurry." Gareth grunted. "Before I drop this fucking thing."

Jeff snickered, leaning over on his ladder, marking the spot on the wall in pencil. "There, I got it. You can put it down."

Gareth nearly dropped the painting, stomping away with a muttering about needing a break. Eddie snarled, chest heaving a little as he wiped his brow.

"I'll go grab the nails and stuff." Jeff mumbled, stepping down from the ladder. "Go check on the drama queen too."

"Yeah, do that." Eddie rolled his eyes, walking towards you. "We'll get it hung up, baby. Then I'm thinkin' we'll put the credenza in front, right? The short one we ordered from Trento. Max said it just came into the warehouse, so I'll have them deliver it. I'll have some actual guys help so Gareth will quit his bitchin'."

You grinned, arms wrapped around Eddie's waist, the soft cotton of his tee was a nice change from the usual designer shirts he wore. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" You looked up at him carefully, brows furrowing gently. "I don't want to ruin the aesthetic you have going on here."

You looked at the portrait, a Victorian Era piece you'd found while on vacation and fell in love with. Filled with flowers, bright petals and pastels. Eddie went back and bought it, had it shipped cross country to surprise you.

"C'mon," Eddie shook his head with a small scoffing eye roll. "You like it, so I like it. It's your house too, now. Not ruining it with stuff you like, just making it better, ya know?"

Your heart swelled, pulling him in for a sweet, surprising kiss. It was true, parts of you had slowly made their way into the home. Bursts of color, a feminine touch that was lacking, that made it feel more like you. Eddie couldn't have been more proud, couldn't have been happier. It's why he lifted that ridiculously heavy portrait, put up with Gareth's bitching while they did it; because you wanted it, and he'd always do what you wanted.

[penwieldingdreamer]

Dante's Prayer - Chapter 1

Thank you all for your likes and reblogs. I'm really happy you liked it. Now on with the next part. Let me know what you think about it and if you want to be tagged. As always thank you @fortheloveoffanfic for being my beta.

Warnings: Mentions of war, mentions of sex, period-typical sexism, canon-typical violence

Words: 1304

Chapter 1

Arrow House, Warwickshire, 1924

"Tommy, you need to consider remarrying." Aunt Polly told him, bouncing Charlie on her knee as she watched her nephew pace behind his desk. "There have been rumors goin' round."

Taking a deep breath, the leader of the Peaky Blinders turned to the older woman. "What would you have me do, Poll, ey? Take the next best woman that's out on the streets?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Tommy. You need someone with good connections and money." she told him, hoisting the boy into her arms and coming to stand next to Tommy. “She has to accept that you’ve been married before, that there’s a child. Even though we’re rich now, doesn’t mean that all women of the world will fall over for Thomas Shelby.”

Snorting, the second eldest Shelby grinned at his aunt, although the smile wouldn’t reach his eyes. Not since Grace had been shot because of him. “As you just so nicely reminded us, we don’ need the fuckin’ money, the Shelby’s are already fuckin’ rich. What are you gonna do? Arrange a marriage, just like John and Esme?”

“Stop the cursin’, will you. There’s a small child here.” Shrugging her shoulders, Polly regarded him with a stern look he just knew all too well. “I talked to Johnny Dogs, he knows a family in Ireland. Lots of connections, loads of old money.”

“No, Poll.” he shook his head, opening the silver case to grab another cigarette, hoping to calm his nerves from the nagging of his aunt. “I��m not goin’ ta bring anyone new into this family. There’s enough people to take care of as it is. Who’s to say that family doesn’t have ties to our enemies?”

Smoothing out Charlie’s dark blond hair, Polly Grace shook her head. “Stubborn as a mule, that one.” she muttered to the boy, the corners of her lips moving up into a smile as she heard the two-year old laugh at her. “Even John wasn’t bitchin’ so much. I know why you won’t do it, Thomas, but you need to see reason. Your boy needs a mother and you, you need someone to warm that heart of yours, even if ye don’ believe me. Be ready in a week, Johnny will take you to see your future wife.”

Grunting, Thomas Shelby watched his aunt leave the study, his son perched on her hip. Grace had only been gone a few weeks - or had it really been months? - and yet his family was forcing him to marry some spoiled high society girl, whose only problem would be the perfect temperature of her tea. Letting out a defeated sigh, the leader of the Peaky Blinders sank into the plush sofa Polly had occupied minutes before and looked at the portrait of his late wife. “What am I goin’ to do without you, eh? You shouldna have been involved in my fuckin’ mess, Grace."

Of course there was no answer from her, the smile on her lips stayed forever frozen. Dropping his head into his hands, he breathed in the air filled with tobacco and whiskey, trying to keep every detail of his love in his heart, never to forget her.

Dublin, Ireland 1924

"Edward, when will you tell our daughter that it's not ladylike to run around with a horse like that?" Helene McCann, Duchess of Leinster and Baroness of Kildare, admonished her husband entering the large sunroom of their country home Castletown House.

Sitting at the table with his other two daughters Amalie and Louise, he read the newspaper and only hummed. "What would you have me do, hm? Send her to her rooms and lock the doors?" Andrew, Duke of Leinster folded the papers and leaned back to watch his wife with an amused smile on his lips. "She is just as free spirited as you, my darling."

"Oh no, I'm definitely blaming you on that one. Saoirse has done everything to avoid being a proper lady, no thanks to you, love." she countered, sipping her tea and giving her husband an angry look. “You know that Mr. Shelby will arrive today and I want her to be presentable.”

Shaking his head, Andrew grabbed his pipe and lit the tobacco. "Saoirse is just like your mother's cousin has been. She was a free spirit, too, a friend of nature and I know you often went to visit her. I do believe Mister Shelby will be very lucky to marry her and you know that as well."

Sighing, the mother of three leaned back in her seat and turned her gaze on the gardens, hoping that her youngest daughter would at least be fine while out there riding through the forest behind their home.

Hooves beat against the cold ground, harsh pants of the horse sounded in the silence of the woods as it raced through the trees, nostrils flared and kept its attention on the sounds around him.

“Socair.” Saoirse spoke softly, guiding her stallion through the thick undergrowth. “Calm, my love.”

Since her mother had told her about the arranged marriage, the youngest of three daughters left to find solace with her animals. Her dappled grey White Knight brought her to the flower field she had found a few months earlier. “Good boy, we’re going to stay here and enjoy the sun before those men come.”

With a snort, the stallion stopped and Saoirse jumped from the saddle, taking the bridle off of him. She took a deep breath and brushed her hand over the speckled coat of the horse. “I can’t believe father agreed to that marriage mother arranged.”

There had never been time in her life that she wished more than ever to not be a descendant from royalty than now. Arrangements had been made with Thomas Shelby, leader of a gang in Birmingham. Her mother had told Saoirse that in a few months she'd be his wife and make sure that their connections would help him further his business and standing in politics.

Leaning against his neck, the young woman closed her eyes. "What should I do, huh? I don't want to be a wife being kept in a house as a broodmare. I just, I want freedom."

Both, rider and horse snapped to attention when a twig broke behind them in the woods. "Who's there?" she called, her eyes flitting through the green leaves of the trees.

"It's just I, princess." the man reasoned, his accent thick as he spoke. Moving through the underbrush, Saoirse could see the kind eyes of Johnny Dogs he only reserved for her. "I knew I might find ye out 'ere."

Smiling, she moved in for a tight hug. "Oh, how I missed you, Johnny. It has been boring ever since you left."

"Oh I know," the Irish mused with a smile. "I bet yer mum has had you reciting poetry and embroidery."

Rolling her eyes, Saoirse lightly hit his shoulder. "Don't remind me. I'm not as much the lady she wants me to be. But now, why are you here? Don't tell me he's here already."

"I'm afraid he's 'ere." Johnny sighed, seeing the defeated look darken her eyes. He had known her since she was a little girl, having worked for the Duke in his stables and taught her everything about horses and riding that he knew. "Please Saoirse, it's not as bad as ye make it out to be."

Exasperated, she turned away from her friend, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm losing my freedom to be a gangster's wife so he can further his business while I'll have to sit in his manor and play the lady of the house, greeting guests and giving him children to make him seem good."

"Just give Thomas a chance, once in a while people will surprise you." Johnny tried to reason with her.

tagging:

@fortheloveoffanfic @fics-not-tragedies

[alysemeadfad]

Stitchin ‘n’ Bitchin

 Emily Tull

The delicate but haunting imagery in Emily Tull’s portraits expertly depicts the fragility of life. Layers of fine fabric are embroidered over with a worn, frayed effect of sketchy stitching.

Her work “A Conversation with Death” was inspired by Shakespeare’s Hamlet, intertwined with the personal story of the portrait sitter. The subject matter guided her in the select of dark and sumptuous fabrics to layer up the piece.

She is obsessed with faces and how they show the passing of time, keen on showing the fragility of flesh through her thread colour choices and stitching. From her use of fabric layering and stitched mark-making, her work grows into semi-abstract faces with a sense of mystery hidden behind.

Emily Tull won the Visual Arts (Non-Digital) section of the Kent Creative Awards in 2017. She is a co-founder of the Society for Embroidered Work, which promotes contemporary stitch artists. She was a contestant on Sky Arts Portrait Of The Year (2014) and a finalist in the Winter Pride Art Awards (2016). She exhibits across the UK and internationally including at the Mall Galleries (2018), Royal Academy Summer Exhibition (2014) and the Ruth Borchard Self Portrait Prize Exhibition (2015).

In this interview, Emily shares how she designed and constructed “A Conversation with Death”. She gives an incredibly useful insight into how the initial choice of a subject guided her design composition. We’re shown how she builds up her work in layers, chooses fabrics and carefully positions the portrait’s elements in order to express a story of mortality and loss.

Name of piece: A Conversation with Death Year of piece: 2015 Techniques and materials used: Hand-stitch, black cotton, flocked organza, velour, blue shirt, muslin and basic sewing threads Size of piece: 2′ x 3′

we followed her process by studying our eye for 2 mins while listening to nick cave, we looked at the pupil, the shape size and how it compared to the rest of the eye. she believes the eye is the window to the soul so she starts every work with the eye and works out, so we just focused on one eye.

she then does some sketches of the eye she studied and then after shes sketched it once she simplifies the sketch so its easy to transfer on to the fabric

i wanted mine to have different textures and layers so i used fabrics and for the eyelashes i used human hair which i was in love with the outcome

the final outcome was simplistic but very effective. I  didn't have the time to add her intense detail or the patients to do so, so i found a way to add her intense detail in my own simplistic way at the same time giving it a spin and turning the style in to a whole new direction

i then did some boobs using her method from the eye but starting at the nipple and working out.

Dry Brushing with ink

we had a zoom call with a former foundation art student, elise, she told us about her art technique which was dry brushing with indian ink, she often dry brushes textured images like bones or scaled animals, as the dry brush technique does not work well on soft smooth images as there can be no texture put in with the dry brushing.

after the zoom we picked our own objects or photos to draw and use the technique with, for my own i used my own art which was my toe shoe as it kind of fits her style and it had texture so the dry brush technique worked quite well

i started out with a pencil outline

i then used a fine liner and simplified all of the lines ready to use the ink

to dry brush we dipped the paint brush in to the indian ink and then on a scrap piece of paper we wiped the excess on untill it was giving a scratchy texture then we went in on the outlined drawing and started adding depth,

[literal-fand0m-trash]

Psychic Wars Part 9. Simon Said Part 2

Note:  I do not own any of the Supernatural characters or stories, but I do own Dakota Winchester. Please leave comments and let me know if you want to be tagged.

Summary: Sequel to Dakota Elizabeth Winchester

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4    Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8

Masterlist

Dean led them to the warrior-princess-polar bear van that was parked a few blocks away. Dakota walked around to the back and knocked on the doors then waited for them to open, but they never did.

“Let’s have a look.” Dean said pulling out a pry bar and shoving it under the doors to pop them open. The doors swung open and Dakota laughed at what she saw. They were blankets all over the back of the car, with a disco ball hanging from the roof and a large portrait of a tiger hanging on one wall of the van. There was a lingering smell of alcohol and weed coming from the car.

“I love it.” Dakota smiled.

“This is magnificent. That’s what this is.” Dean grinned and Dakota saw Sam roll his eyes.

“It’s pretty bitchin’, but it’s not a serial killer lair.” Dakota pointed out.

“Maybe a lady killer lair.” Dean joked.

“Okay, seriously, y’all suck!” Sam complained as he reached into the van and picked up a few novels lying on the ground, “Hegel? Kant? Wittgenstein? That’s some pretty damn heavy reading.”

“So, he has a cool van and has great taste in classic literature.” Dakota summarized.

“I’m more interested in the Moby Dick bong.” Dean said pulling a three foot long bong out of the car. “I’m starting to like this guy.”

Dakota thought she might be starting to like him too.

……….

They were staked out in the Impala waiting for Andy to come back to his van, eating one of the most disgusting burgers Dakota had ever had the misfortune of consuming.

Dean threw his burger down and sighed, “You know, one day I’d love to just sit down and eat something that I didn't have to microwave at a minimart.”

“Hell, I’d settle for it not being completely soaked in grease.” Dakota said abandoning her burger.

“What I don’t get is the motive.” Sam mumbled from the front seat.

“...The motive for not wanting to eat crappy food, or have we switched back to the Andy thing?” Dakota asked.

“Andy. The doctor was squeaky clean. Why would Andy waste him?” Sam asked.

“If it is Andy.” Dean said and Dakota nodded.

“The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control.” Sam argued.

“I don’t know, he just doesn’t strike me as a killer and where’s the motive?” Dakota pointed out.

“How the Hell would you know? Why are you two bending over backwards to defned him?” Sam snapped.

Dean was quiet for a moment, “Because I don’t think you are right about this.”

Whatever he was going to stay next  was interrupted by Andy bending down next to her open window.

“Hey! You think I haven’t seen you three following me?” He snapped.

Dakota opened her mouth to say something, but ended up just staring at him, “Um…”

“Well, we’re lawyers. A relative of yours has…” Sam started.

“Tell the truth!” Andy snapped.

“That was the truth.” Dakota said said shaking herself out of her daze.

“We hunt demons.” Dean confessed without batting an eye. “Demons and spirits.”

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed.

“ Things your nightmares wouldn’t even touch. Sam’s my brother and Dakota is my sister.”

“Oh my God stop talking!” Dakota said putting her hand in her hands.

“I’m trying.” Dean apologized, “They’re both psychic like you. Well, not really like you. Sam thinks you’re a murderer and I think Dakota thinks you’re cute. Anyways, Sam’s afraid he’s afraid he’s going to become a murderer too because you’re all part of something that’s terrible. And I hope to Hell he’s wrong, but I’m starting to get scared dhe might be right.”

“Dean!” Sam and Dakota snapped.

“Okay. Stop talking! Just leave me alone!” Andy said before standing up and walking away.

Dakota and Sam got out of the car and started following Andy, while Dean stayed rooted to his seat, “What are you doing? I said, leave me alone.”

“No.” Dakota said crossing her arms and continuing to walk towards Andy.

“Get in you car, start driving, and never stop. Please.” Andy said.

“It doesn’t seem to work on us Ady.” Sam said. Dakota heard the car door open and close and heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

“You can make people do things, can’t you? You can tell them what to think.” Sam said and Dakota held up a hand to stop Dean from coming closer.

“That’s crazy!” Andy gave a humorless laugh.

“This all started a year ago, didn’t it? Right after your 22 birthday?” Dakota asked.

“It was little stuff at first, then you got better at controlling it.” Sam continued.

“How the Hell do you know all this?” Andy asked putting his hands on his head.

Dakota took a step closer to him, “‘Cause the same thing happened to us, Andy. Our mom died in a fire, too. We have X-Men powers, too.”

Andy cracked a little smile, “‘X-Men powers’?”

“Shut up.” Dakota mumbled, blushing.

“Did you tell the doctor to walk in front of the bus?” Sam asked before closing his eyes and  scrunched his face.

“Wow, he is okay?” Andy asked as Dean ran up and grabbed Sam’s shoulders.

“He’s having a vision.” Dakota explained as Sam started falling and Dean lowered him to the ground.

“A woman. A woman burning alive.” Sam said.

“Did you get anything else?” Dean asked still kneeling next to Sam.

“She’s at a gas station. A woman is going to kill herself.” Sam explained, his eyes still shut tight.

“What does he mean ‘going to’?” Andy asked. “Shut up!” Dean snapped.

“Sam’s visions are of the future.” Dakota explained.

“She gets triggered by a call on her cellphone.” Sam continued.

“When?” Dakota asked.

“I don’t know.” Sam said.

“Well, as long as we don’t keep our eyes off this son of a bitch, he can’t hurt her.” Dean said.

“Hey! I didn’t hurt anyone!” Andy said.

“Okay guys…” Dakota started, but she was cut off by a fire truck and ambulance driving down the street with sirens blazing.

“Dean, go. Kota and I’ll wait with Andy.” Sam said.

Dakota sat down on the ground and Andy sat next to her while Sam paced the parking lot they were in.

“I don’t know that I ever caught your name.” Andy said.

Dakota smiled a little and looked down at her hands in her lap, “Dakota Winchester. But, you can call me Kota.”

“Your last name is Winchester? Wow, you must be a real pistol.” Andy said blushing slightly.

Dakota smirked, “Winchester makes rifles, but since your attempt and flirting is cute I will allow you to continue.” Dakota said.

“Oh well, thank you, my lady.” Andy said giving an overly dramatic bow and Dakota laughed.

A few minutes later Andy and Dakota were in a deep and dramatic conversation about which Harry Potter book was the best when Sam jogged back over to them.

“She’s dead. The woman from the gas station. Just a few minutes ago.” Sam said.

“But you just had the vision.” Dakota pointed out.

“I can’t control them.” Sam argued.

“Can someone explain this vision thing to me?” Andy asked.

……….

“You get premonitions about people about to die? That’s impossible.” Andy said after Dakota and Sam explained everything.

“You have the power of  mind control. I think a lot of people would say that was impossible.” Dakota said.

“Death visions. Dude, that sucks.” Andy shakes his head. “When I got my mind thing, it was like a gift. It was like I won the lotto.”

“But you still live in a van.” Sam pointed out.

“I like the van.” Dakota said and Andy bumped his shoulder with hers.

“But you could have anything you ever wanted.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got everything I need.” Andy smiled. Dakota smiled, she loved that kind of ideology.

“So, you’re really not a killer.” Sam said.

Andy laughed, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“That’s good.” Sam said.

“Yeah, it means there’s hope for our asses after all.” Dakota smiled.

The low rumble of the Impala sounded and Dakota turned to see their car pulling  up. Dean stepped out of the car and walked up to them.

“The victim's name is Holly Beckett. 41. Single.” Dean said.

“Who is she?” Sam asked.

“Never heard of her.” Andy shrugged.

“I called Ash on the way over here. He came up with a little something. Apparently Holly Beckett gave birth when she was 18 years old, back in 1983, the same day you were born Andy.” Dean explained.

“Were you adopted?” Dakota asked Andy.

“Yeah, why?” Andy asked.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dea asked.

“It never came up. I never knew my birth parents, and like you said, my adopted mom died when I was six months old.” Andy said. “Do you think this Holly woman could be my mom?”

“I don’t know. Tried to get a copy of the birth certificate, but they’re sealed by the county office.” Dean said.

“Well screw that.” Andy smirked.

……….

“I probably shouldn’t have let you kids in here.” The clerk from the county office said as he let them into the record room after very little “convincing” from Andy.

“No. It’ll all be fine, alright. Go grab a cup of coffee.” Andy promised as Dakota walked over to one of the bookshelves and grabbed a box of files as the man left the room, “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” Andy said in his best Obiwan impression and Dakota burst out laughing.

“Awesome.” Dean smiled.

“I can’t believe you said that.” Dakota said breathlessly.

“I can’t believe you laughed at that!” Andy laughed along.

“I can’t believe what lovesick puppies you two are.” Sam said as they walked over to one of the tables.

Dakota took the top off of the box and they started looking through it until Sam stopped them.

“Guys. I found it. Andy, Holly Beckett was your birth mother.” Sam said.

“Wow...does anyone have a Vicodin?” Andy asked.

Dakota pick up a paper and skimmed it, “Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too. He oversaw the adoption.”

“Andy, you have a solid connection to both of them.” Sam said.

“Yeah, but I didn’t kill them.” Andy said.

“We believe you.” Dean promised.

“But, who did?” Andy asked.

“I think I got a pretty good guess.” Sam said.

“Really? ‘Cause I got nothing.” Dakota said.

“Yeah, well, the birth records show that Holly Beckett gave birth to twins.” Sam said.

Andy sat back in his chair, “...I have an evil twin.”

“So do I. It’s not that bad.” Sam said.

“You wanna know what, jackass.” Dakota snapped.

“Holly put you and your brother up for adoption and you went to the Gallagher family and your brother went to the Weems family upstate.” Sam read.

“Andy? How you doing? You still with us?” Dean asked and Dakota leaned over and put her hand on top of Andy’s.

“Um...What’s my brother’s name?” He asked.

“Ansem Weems.” Sam answered. “He’s got a local address.”

“He lives here?” Andy asked breathlessly.

“Let’s get a look at him. Got his picture coming over from the DMV now.” Dean said standing over the printer. Dean stared at the paper in his hand and slowly walked towards the table, “Hate to kick you while you’re freaked. Take a look at that.”

Andy grabbed the paper and Dakota looked over his shoulder at it, “Isn’t that the waiter from the diner?”

……….

They all loaded up into the Impala and drove full speed towards the diner.

“So, what do you know about this Webber guy?” Dakota asked.

“I don’t know much. Webber shows up one day eight months ago, acting like he was my best friend in the world. He’s kinda weird, like trying too hard, ya know?” Andy said.

“He must have known you two were twins.” Dean said.

“Yeah, but why change his name? Why not tell you the truth?” Dakota asked.

Sam threw his head back dramatically and groaned.

“Sam?” Dean and Dakota asked.

“Dean stop the car!” Dakota commanded and Dean pulled over and raced to Sam’s side of the car with Dakota and Andy behind him. Dakota knelt down in front of Sam as soon as the door was open.

“What did you see?” Dakota asked putting her hands on his shoulder.

“A dam, Webber, the woman from the diner.” Sam said.

Andy directed them in the direction of the dam and Sam quickly recognized the stretch he had seen in his vision. They pulled the Impala over in a wooded area and climbed out. Dakota watched Andy get out of the backseat, then looked over at Dean who was opening the trunk.

“Hey, Dean? Maybe you should wait here.” She suggested.

“Fine by me. I’ve had my head screwed with enough today.” Dean said handing out some hand guns.

“I’m coming with you guys. That’s Tracy out there, and I’m coming.” Andy said standing his ground. Dean nodded and handed him a gun.

“Do you know how to use that?” Dakota asked.

“No, but you do. So I’m trusting you to do the actual work while I stand there and look cool while holding a gun.” He smiled weakly.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Sam said.

They walked quickly towards the dam, Dakota giving Andy a quick lesson on how not to kill them by accidentally firing until they came across a car.

“That’s Tracy’s car.” Andy whispered.

Dakota and Sam nodded at each other and rounded either side of the car, using the butt of their guns to slam on the front windows, shattering them. Dakota was on the passenger’s side and immediately looked in and saw that Tracy wasn’t cut by any glass, but she was by no means okay if her tears and half unbuttoned dress were any indication. Andy ran up next to Dakota and pulled Tracy out of the car, giving her a quick hug before Dakota grabbed him and dragged him to where Sam had Webber pinned on the ground. She slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth while Sam sat on his chest and Andy on his legs.

“I swear to God I will kill you!” Andy yelled at his twin before lunging forward and Sam grabbed him and dragged him off of Webber, leaving Dakota holding him down.

Unfortunately, Dakota was small and skinny and Webber almost instantly flipped her off of him. She hit her head hard on the ground and twisted her knee falling. She laid on the ground holding her head before rolling over and seeing Sam holding his head, probably because Tracy was swinging a tree branch at him.

“How did you do that?” Dakota asked out loud when she realized that Webber was still controlling Tracy.

“Practice makes perfect.” Webber smirked and turned to Andy, “Sometimes you don’t even need to use words. Sometimes all you need is your mind. The headache is almost worth it.”

“You sick twisted son of a bitch!” Andy screamed lunging for his brother.

“Andy stop!” Dakota yelled as she climbed back onto her feet, still holding the back of her head.

“You don’t want to do this Andy, otherwise Tracy’s gonna do a little flying.” Webber threatened as the brothers locked their hands around each other’s neck. Dakota looked and saw that Tracy was standing on the edge of the dam and she started rushing towards her as fast as she could on an injured knee.

“I won’t do that if I were you.” Webber threatened and Dakota stopped and turned back to look at them.

“Okay, okay. Just...please don’t hurt her.” Andy said releasing Webber and taking a step back.

“Don’t be mad at me, okay? I know. It’s all wrong. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s just that Tracy was coming between us. I’m your best friend, not her!” Webber snapped.

“You’re insane.” Andy whispered.

“She’s garbage! Man, they all are! We can push them. We can make them do whatever they want!” Webber declared.

“You’re out of your mind!” Dakota said taking a step closer to Andy.

“Are you really this stupid?” Is it-you learn you’ve got a twin, you call him up, you go out for a drink. You don’t start killing people!” Andy argued. Dakota turned around and looked at her own twin,  Sam was still on the ground from being hit with a branch, but was slowly getting into a sitting position.

“I wanted to tell you for so long, bro, but...he didn’t let me. He said I had to wait until the time was…” Webber started.

“Wait. Who’s ‘he’?” Dakota asked.

“The man with the yellow eyes.” Webber said as though that was a completely normal thing while Dakota felt her stomach turn and her ears start ringing.

“What are you talking about?” Andy asked.

“You don’t want to know.” Dakota promised, but Webber spoke over her.

“He came to me in my dream. Said I was special. He said he had big plans for me.” He said.

“And all the children like you, right?” Dakota asked and Webber nodded before he turned back to talking to Andy. Dakota looked over her shoulder at Sam who nodded that he had heard the whole thing.

Dakota felt emotions all of a sudden outside of hers and Tracy’s. She looked into the treeline at the same time as Webber, who apparently could sense Dean as well.

“Bye-Bye.” Webber commanded.

“No!” Dakota and Sam yelled as a gunshot went off.

Dakota watched Webber drop to the ground then looked over at Andy who’s hands were shaking, still holding the gun.

……….

The sun was rising as the police and ambulance showed up, Andy quickly “telling” them what had happened. Dakota sat against the side of the dam with an ice pack on her knee the paramedics had insisted on giving her while Sam had one for his head. Andy came and sat down next to her and her brothers.

“Look at you. You’re getting pretty good a t that.” She smiled.

“She won’t even look at me.” He whispered looking at his feet. Dakota looked over to the ambulance Tracy was sitting in, getting treated.

“She’s pretty shaken up.” Dakota pointed out.

“No, this is different. I’ve never used my mind thing on her before last night. She’s scared of me now.” Andy said and Dakota noticed a shadow crossing over them.

“Hey, I hate to do this, but we got to get out of here.” Dean said above them.

“Okay.” Dakota pouted.

“Kota, why don’t I give you my number. I’m new to this whole mind thing, maybe we could help each other out over drinks sometime.” He said and Dakota smiled and blushed before handing over her phone. He quickly typed it in and handed it back to her, smiling as widely as she was before grabbing her in a hug.

“That’s enough. Break it up.” Dean said, physically grabbing Dakota by the back of her flannel and pulling her up, Andy following in suit. She turned to look at him and placed a quick kiss on his lips before turning and following her brothers to the car.

“Andy and Kota sittin in a tree…” Sam sang and Dakota punched his arm, “And for the record, I was right. Andy is a killer after all.”

“Yeah, and you’re a freakin’ mood killer.” Dakota glowered.

“Sam, get over yourself. Andy just saved our asses.” Dean said.

“Bottom line, last night he waste someone.” Sam said.

“We waste people all the time.” Dakota said.

“He’s not a foaming at the mouth psycho.” Dean said.

“Sam, what do you want us to say. You’re trying really hard for us to say ‘yes, you’re destined to be a killer’, but I don’t know why. You are fine. We are fine. Let this go, for the sake of my sanity.” Dakota begged.

“Dean is scared of us!” Sam argued as they reached the Impala.

“As he should be. We could easily kick his ass.” Dakota said opening the door, but not getting in yet.

“That was mind control! That’s like being roofied, it doesn’t count.” Dean argued. “I’m calling a do-over.”

“What are you, seven?” Sam asked.

“Doesn’t matter, we just keep doing what we’re doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it.” Dean said as Dakota’s phone started ringing.

“Hey Aunt Ellen, what’s up?” She asked once she answered.

“Something’s wrong. You need to get here.” She said sharply.

“Okay. We’re leaving right now.” Dakota promised.

……….

They made it to the Roadhouse in record time and rushed inside to find the place completely empty except for Ellen. They sat down at the bar and she handed them three beers.

“So, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?” She asked putting her hands on her hips.

“Um...I thought Kota said something was wrong and we needed to get here as soon as possible?” Dean asked and Ellen shut him up with a look.

“It’s kind of a family thing.” Sam vaguely explained..

“Not any more.” Ellen said pulling a huge stack of paper from under the bar and dropping it in front of them, “I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher’s house burned down on his six month birthday. Just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don’t you?” Ellen asked. All three Winchesters remained silent, “Dakota, no lies, no half-truths. Something big is coming and it’s not your war, it’s a war and all we have are us, together.”

“There are people out there, like Andy...like Sam and me, and...we all have some kind of ability. A psychic ability. Sam has visions, like premonitions, and I’m an empathy so I can feel people’s emotions. Andy has mind control and there was this kid, Max, who was a telekinesis. The demon said he had plans for us and the children like us.” Dakota explained.

“What kind of plan?” Ellen asked.

“We don’t know.” Sam said.

“And these other psychics, are they dangerous?” Ellen asked and Dakota dropped her head in her hands and groaned.

“No!” Dean said violently.

“Not all of them.” Sam argued.

“How many are there?” Ellen asked.

“We’ve been able to track a clear pattern so far. They’ve all had house fires the night of the kids six month birthday.” Dean said.

“That’s not true.” Sam muttered.

“What?” Dakota and Dean asked.

“Webber or Ansem Weems or whatever- I looked at his file, there was no house fire.” Sam explained.

“Correction: We have no clear pattern, no way to find them, no idea where the demon is or the Cult, and we don’t know why we have abilities.” Dakota groaned.

“So, if  there are any others like him, there would be nothing in the system, no way to track them all down.” Ellen summarized.

“And so , who knows how many of them are really out there.” Dean said.

“Jo, honey. Why don’t you break out the whiskey.” Ellen called out.

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