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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

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Skin | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of assault/battery, canon violence, canon gore (take care of urselves bbies)

Word Count: 5826

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and Dean didn’t talk about Toledo. You were back to not talking about much of anything. Your fights had become much less frequent, and when you did fight, it was more playful than malicious. For that, you were grateful. You felt incredibly conflicted about the fact that he was beginning to grow on you.

‘Like a wart,’ you thought. ‘Or a blister, maybe.’

Whatever he was, he was beginning to chip through your hard exterior. You also found out he hadn’t told Sam what you’d told him about your family which you were surprised by.

The three of you spent more time on the road than you did anywhere else. When you used to drive cross-country by yourself, you felt yourself beginning to go crazy a few hours into the drive. As much as you loved your alone time, you also craved the company of others. Now that you had it, you weren’t sure how you were going to leave these guys once you found John.

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam. “Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.”

He didn’t respond.

“Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy,” he finally answered.

“Busy doin’ what?” you placed your head on his shoulder over the top of the seat.

“Reading e-mails.”

Dean had gotten out of the car and began pumping gas. “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.” Sam still seemed disinterested in conversation.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean asked.

“Why not?” He still hadn’t turned his attention from his phone.

“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“And I couldn’t make my way into that lie?” you asked.

“What do I tell ‘em, (Y/N/N)? That we picked up some chick in California and took her on the road with us?” he chuckled. “And I don’t lie to them. I just don’t tell ‘em… everything.”

“Yeah, that’s called lying,” you retorted. “I get it, though, the truth is much worse.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”

His older brother shrugged.

“You’re serious?” Sam wasn’t really asking.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period,” Dean responded.

“How many friends do I have, Sam?” you asked him.

“Me.”

“Exactly,” you giggled.

“You two are kind of anti-social, you know that?” He returned to scrolling through his emails.

“Eh, whatever.” You flopped back on the bench seat.

“God….” Sam trailed off.

“What?” you and Dean asked.

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Is she hot?”

You rolled your eyes. “Dean—”

Sam ignored the two of you. “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” his brother questioned.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.”

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.”

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.”

“Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay?” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

Sam wasn’t having it. “It is our problem. They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean and Sam got into what you can only describe as a staring contest before Dean scoffed; seemingly admitting defeat. Next thing you knew, you were headed to St. Louis.

***

The massive door on the undoubtedly expensive house you’d arrived at opened to reveal a beautiful blonde girl.

‘Damn all these pretty blonde bitches we keep running into,’ you thought.

“Oh my God, Sam!” she smiled, throwing her arms around her friend.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky,” Sam jested.

“You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

“I got your e-mail.” His tone had become somber.

“I didn’t think that you would come here,” she answered earnestly.

Dean shoved in front of Sam. “Dean. Older brother.”

‘He’s making his fucking voice deeper again.’

She shook his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled back.

“We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.” You peeked out from behind Sam. ��I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Nice to meet you!” You were only mildly annoyed by how wonderful her disposition was. “Come in.”

“Nice place,” Dean commented, taking in his grandiose surroundings.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free,” Becky explained.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asked.

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.”

‘Of course, they fucking do.’

“Do you guys want a beer or something?” she asked politely.

Dean obviously did, but his brother stopped him. “No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.”

“Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Becky began to cry.

‘She’s even pretty when she cries.’

“So, he called 911, and the police— they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight,” she relayed.

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.”

“We could,” Dean agreed, but you could tell he still wasn’t picking up where Sam was going with this.

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” the blonde asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam patted his brother’s shoulder.

“Detective, actually,” Dean laughed.

“Really? Where?”

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.”

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just— I don’t know,” she said.

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent,” Sam replied.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.”

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends,” Dean mocked after Becky had walked down the hall.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help,” Sam responded.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.”

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.”

Dean said nothing, clearly defeated.

***

“You’re sure this is okay?” Rebecca asked Dean as the four of you walked into Zack's house.

Dean clearly was having fun with the whole “cop” thing. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.”

You hated how smug he could be. Rebecca came inside with you and informed you that Emily had let her attacker in.

She then informed you about a recent incident that struck you as odd. “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes— Zack’s clothes. The police— they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.” In the midst of her story, you could hear a dog barking angrily across the street. Dean peered out of the window, and Becca came up behind him. “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“What happened?” you asked her.

“He just changed.”

Dean turned over his shoulder to her. “Do you remember when he changed?”

“I guess around the time of the murder,” she shrugged.

You found Sam staring at a picture of himself, another college-aged boy you assumed was Zack, and Rebecca that was framed in the hallway.

Dean came up behind you soon after. “So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal,” Sam said.

“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’.”

“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“Yeah, prob—” you started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

You shot him a look. “The evidence is staring you in the face, and you still can’t admit you’re wrong.”

He shot a look back at you that said, ‘Don’t try me.’

Before you could push each other’s buttons any further, Rebecca came over to you, and Dean turned his attention to her. “So, the tape. The security footage— you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

How Becky was buying into Dean’s lie, you had no idea. He was really laying it on thick.

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop,” she giggled. “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

The three of you went back to Becky’s parents’ home to review the security footage. It was of Zack entering his house, but a strange glint on the film caught your eye.

“22:04,” Dean noted the time stamp, “that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.”

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with,” Becky added.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam asked.

“Oh, sure,” she replied politely, turning to go to the kitchen.

“Maybe some sandwiches, too?” He was putting on the puppy dog eyes just a bit to convince her.

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” she snarked.

“I wish,” Dean mumbled.

“Can you focus, please?” you asked him.

“What are you, my mother?” Your banter was no longer filled with malice, just a hint of aggravation.

“No, but frankly, the thought of you trying to bang someone makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I’d prefer not to watch it happen,” you replied playfully. “But look.” You rewound the tape an started it over. You caught the glint again, paused it, and realized Zack’s eyes were silver. “There!”

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare,” Dean shrugged.

“Does that look like any camera flare you’ve ever seen?” you asked rhetorically.

He just looked away, defeated.

“You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,” Sam chimed in. “Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger?” Your brow knitted together, mind trying to wrap around what you were dealing with.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was in two places at once,” Sam said.

Despite the luxurious villa Sam’s friend called home, the three of you didn’t want to intrude on her privacy; opting for yet another shitty motel. Something about this case was bugging you, though, and you tossed and turned all night thinking about it. And then, it hit you.

You pulled on your jacket and boots and rushed over to the boys’ room. A sleepy Dean answered the door. You hated to admit it, but he and his fluffy, mussed up hair were adorable when he’d just woken up.

“Morning, sunshine,” you grinned.

He scratched his head. “(Y/N), what the fu—”

“We have to get to Zack’s house. I just thought of something. “

Sam appeared behind Dean, already dressed. “Whatcha got?”

Dean stepped back from the door, letting you into the room.

“We saw ‘Zack’ go in, but never saw the killer leave,” you explained. “But of course, we didn’t. Why would the cops be looking for that when they nabbed Zack in his house with his dead girlfriend?”

Sam was with you, nodding his head.

“Did you have to realize that before five in the morning?” Dean yawned, pulling a pair of pants on.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly. “Couldn’t sleep. But I figured that out, so that’s all that matters.”

Dean shook his head and yawned again. “Sam, you’re driving. I might crash my baby if I drive right now.”

***

“He must’ve gone out the back door,” Sam said. You and the brothers were walking toward Zack’s house. “So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”

“I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning,” Dean grumbled.

“C’mon,” you groaned, dragging his arm to follow Sam around the back of Zack’s house. Sure enough, there was a dried, dark red substance smeared on a nearby telephone pole.

“Blood. Somebody came this way,” Sam noted.

“Yeah, but the trail ends,” Dean added from a few paces ahead. “I don’t see anything over here.”

Just as he finished speaking, an ambulance drove past the house with its sirens wailing. You and Sam looked at each other before hurrying back to Dean’s car. Dean followed the ambulance to its destination where a man was handcuffed and being shoved into the back of a police car.

“What happened?” Dean asked a bystander.

“He tried to kill his wife,” she responded with a hand to her chest. “Tied her up and beat her.”

“Really?” you asked.

“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.” She shook her head sorrowfully and watched as the police car drove away.

The three of you hung around the scene for a while until it had been completely cleared out. You regrouped while you snooped around.

“Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?” Dean asked as he approached you and Sam.

“Yeah,” his brother answered.

“Definitely our kind of problem.”

You gasped, feigning shock. “Mark it in the calendar, Dean Winchester admitted he was wrong!”

“Watch it, sweetheart,” he retorted.

“What’d you find out?” Sam asked.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked,” Dean explained.

“So, he was in two places at once, too.”

“Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; police think he’s a nutjob.”

You paused for a moment, thinking. “You think it could be a shapeshifter?”

“Something that can make itself look like anyone? Sure,” Sam responded. “Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.”

“Right, skinwalkers, werewolves,” Dean added. “We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood.”

“Let me ask you this— in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?” the younger brother asked.

“Not that I know of.” You shook your head. “But someone ran out the back of his house and headed this way. And then… the trail just… ends. Just like at your friend’s house.” You gestured toward Sam.

“Well, there’s another way to go.” You followed Dean’s gaze down to a manhole.

“Ew, gross.” Your face scrunched up in disgust as Sam started to move the manhole cover.

The three of you quickly climbed down so as to not be seen.

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too,” Sam said as the three of you made your way down the tunnel. “The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.”

You were leading the group, and stopped suddenly when you noticed a pile of blood and skin on the ground. “Blegh, look!”

“Is this from his victims?” Sam looked equally as disgusted.

Dean pulled out his pocket knife and lifted a piece of the skin off the ground. “You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds.”

“That is sick,” you affirmed.

He dropped the skin back to the ground and turned to you to wipe his knife off on your jacket.

“Ew, dude!” you shoved his arm. “What the fuck?”

He just laughed in response.

You and the boys headed back up to the car to load up with some weapons.

“Well, one thing I learned from Dad—” Dean began, riffling through the weapons cavity, “—is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart,” you chimed in.

He nodded and handed you a case of the bullets.

Sam’s cell phone rang. “This is Sam… We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out… What are you talkin’ about?”

He seemed caught off-guard. You thought he was talking to Rebecca, but had no idea why she’d be upset with you. You eyed Dean who shrugged.

“Why would you do that?... Bec— We’re tryin’ to help… Bec, I’m sorry, but—” And then he clapped his phone shut, looking disappointed.

Dean found it an appropriate moment to be a bit of a dick. “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just—it’d be easier if—”

“If I was like you guys,” he replied quietly.

“Sam, I’m not trying to be heartless, but Dean’s kinda right.” Both brothers seemed surprised you were agreeing with Dean for once. “We’re not like other people.”

“But I’ll tell you one thing.” Dean’s lighthearted tone was back. “This whole gig— it ain’t without perks.” He held out a gun to Sam, whose face was still crestfallen.

You followed Sam and Dean back down the manhole, gun loaded with silver bullets. You carried the case of bullets Dean handed to you in your inner jacket pocket; just in case. After a few minutes of trudging through toxic sludge with baited breath, you noticed another pile of blood and skin on a pipe next to Sam’s head. “I think we’re close to its lair,” you told them.

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked.

“Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face,” you snickered.

“Oh, God!” His face scrunched up in disgust.

There was another pile of clothing and rotting skin a few paces ahead of you.

“Looks like it’s lived here for a while,” you heard Dean say from behind you.

You turned to face him as you spoke. “Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away— Fuck, Dean!” you cried, seeing the shapeshifter in the form of its last victim behind him.

Dean wheeled around, only to be knocked to the ground by the smirking creature. You and Sam rushed to his side as the creature sped off.

“Get the son of a bitch!” Dean commanded.

The three of you sped down the tunnel and followed him out of the manhole. You couldn’t see where exactly he ended up, and you decided to split up.

Under the cover of night, you headed down streets and alleyways with your gun hidden inside your jacket. You came to a stop at a dead end and wheeled around at the sound of footsteps behind you. The shapeshifter, still in the form of the businessman, knocked you out cold before you were even able to raise your gun at him.

***

The next time you came to, you felt itchy bits of rope binding your hands, feet, and neck to a cold, metal post behind you. As your vision began to clear, you could see you were in some kind of a dark, dingy room. It seemed like a house, but you weren’t entirely convinced. You heard what sounded like the older brother’s voice coming from behind you.

“Dean?” you called.

“(Y/N), it’s not—” Sam shouted, but cut himself off with a groan.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down to your eye level. He put a hand next to your head on the post.

You turned your face away from him, straining against the rope. He even smelled like Dean.

“You are one fucking trainwreck,” he said, searching your face.

You eyed him curiously. He just laughed coldly in response. “The more I learn about you, the more fucked up you get.”

“What do you mean ‘learn’?”

As if on cue, the shapeshifter held a hand to his temple, grunting in pain. After a moment had passed, he spoke again. “You made a big mistake telling him— I mean, me— about what you did to your family. If I wasn’t ready to get rid of you before, I sure as hell am now. I hope you’re tellin’ the truth about leaving the second we find Dad, ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can put up with you. God, from your voice to your personality, you aggravate the livin’ crap outta me.” The shapeshifter leaned back down in front of your face, the two of you only inches away from one another.

“You’re a burden, (Y/N). You’re exhausting to be around. I constantly have to keep my guard up around you. I can’t trust you, not after what you told me in Toledo. How do I know you won’t turn on me and Sammy?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. You instead reared back as much as you could and spat in his face. You had taken him by surprise, but his hand was around your throat in an instant. His lips were inches away from your ear and he squeezed your neck just tight enough to where you were beginning to see stars. “You fucking bitch. Y’know, take your voice and personality away, Dean would definitely wanna fuck you. He thought you were hot the first time he met you. Then he actually got to know you, and, eh, things changed. But I’m sure he’d have tons of fun with Sam’s little friend Becky.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I think I’ll go pay her a visit.”

He released your throat and you sputtered and coughed when he did. He covered you up with a tarp moments later. You felt pathetic, but you let your tears flow freely now that he was gone, wiggling around to get the tarp off your head.

“(Y/N), are you back there?” Dean called from somewhere you couldn’t see.

You knew he hadn’t said those hurtful things to you, but it was still difficult to hear his voice. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.” Your voice was still shaky from crying. “He went to Rebecca’s, lookin’ like you.”

“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one,” Dean gibed at his brother.

You admired his ability to keep his snarky attitude and stupid jokes despite his circumstances. His confidence bewildered you at times.

You pulled at the ropes binding your hands, hissing when you felt the rope creating angry brush burns on your wrists.

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you,” you heard Sam tell Dean.

“What do you mean?” the older brother asked.

“Yeah, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories,” you told him.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?”

You giggled. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us,” Sam added.

“Yeah, he probably needs to keep us alive. Some kind of psychic connection— ah,” you yelped at the feeling of the rope aggravating your wrists again. The shifter had bound you unbelievably tightly.

“(Y/N), stop, I’m coming to help you,” Dean instructed.

“I’m a big girl,” you replied sassily. “I can do it.”

Dean had made his way over to you. “Do you have to fight me on everything?” He untied your hands with ease and began working on your neck.

“Yes, but thank you,” you told him. You still couldn’t look him in the eyes after what the shifter had told you. You were doing your best to keep your exterior steely. You couldn’t deny, though, that his tight-fitting gray t-shirt over rippling muscle and the way he’d helped you were starting to break down your walls a little.

“Come on, we gotta go,” you heard Sam order from behind you. “He’s probably at Rebecca’s already.”

Dean pushed a window out of the building you were kept in and the three of you climbed out.

Sam started down the street. “Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean stopped him. “You’re gonna put an APB out on me.”

His brother shrugged. “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean led the three of you down the street. You ran shielded by the darkness until you reached a store window. There was a display wall of televisions in it, and the news was on. Conveniently, Dean was the breaking news.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End—” the reporter stated, “—where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”

Of course, Dean’s attitude was unwavering. “Man! That’s not even a good picture.”

You looked around nervously.

“It’s good enough,” Sam said.

“Man!” Dean grumbled, following Sam down the street to an alleyway.

“They said attempted murder,” you pointed out. “At least we know—”

“I didn’t kill her.”

You nodded.

“We’ll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she’s all right,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder.

“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.”

‘He’s still as arrogant as ever.’

“We have no weapons, though. No silver bullets,” you countered.

“Sweetheart, the guy’s walkin’ around with my face, okay, it’s a little personal, I wanna find him.” He turned to face you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I get it. We need guns, though.”

“The car?” Sam threw in.

“I’m bettin’ he drove over to Rebecca’s.” Dean’s face began to heat up. You knew he was thinking about his precious Impala.

“The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”

“The thought of him drivin’ my car—” he whined.

You shook your head. “Come on.”

“It’s killin’ me,” Dean whined again.

“Let it go,” you and Sam commanded over your shoulders.

The three of you rounded the corner along a tall hedge only to be greeted by the sight of the car.

“Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight.” Dean’s joy was almost contagious.

His stupor was broken by a police car appearing down Rebecca’s street and blocking the end of the road.

“Fuck.” You spun around the way you came, but another cop car appeared back down that street, too.

“This way, this way,” Dean began leading you over to a fence and easily climbed atop it.

“You guys go. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Sam told you.

“What are you talking about? They’ll catch you.” Dean turned into a seated position on top the fence.

“Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca’s,” Sam quickly spoke.

You and Dean hopped over multiple fences, fatiguing your limbs quickly. Several blocks from where you and the boys had run into the cops, the two of you stopped to catch your breath. You sat down on a street corner and tucked your knees into your chest.

Dean sat beside you. “What did he say to you?”

You turned to him. “Huh?”

“The shifter. What’d he say to you?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s fine—”

“(Y/N), you haven’t looked at me once since we left that thing’s hideout. Tell me what he said.”

“Why can’t you drop it?” you spat, looking down at your boots.

“Because,” he protested. “I gave you a chance to explain in Toledo. At the very least, you owe me that.”

You sighed. “He said you think I’m annoying. And, um, a burden. He said you’re trying to find your dad so quick to get rid of me. And that you can’t trust me because of what I did to my family.”

Dean was silent for a moment. “Anything else?”

“He said everything about me aggravates you and that I exhaust you.”

He nodded. “Do you really believe that?” You could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of your face.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “You haven’t exactly proven otherwise to me.” You looked up at him for the first time in hours.

He seemed surprised by that answer.

“Don’t look at me like that. Aside from Toledo and a few seconds on that plane, all we’ve ever done is fight,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “But I don’t think those things about you. Honest.”

“I feel like I’m pulling teeth here, Dean,” you remarked. “What do you think of me?”

“I mean, you can be annoying.”

You scoffed, but a smile tugged at your lips.

“And you’re way too stubborn.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And so are you.”

“And you’re too smart for your own good.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“Would you let me finish?” he deadpanned.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You just… you intimidate me a little, honestly.” Now Dean was the one who couldn’t look at you.

You were shocked. “Really? Why?”

“Dammit, (Y/N), I’m not good at this,” he sighed. “I know you heard what I said to Haley about that being the most honest I’ve ever been with a woman.”

You giggled at the memory.

“This tops that by far,” he admitted.

You nodded. You’d have this conversation another time. You rose to your feet, and he followed suit.

“Can we start over?” you asked him.

He eyed you curiously.

“As… acquaintances, I mean,” you explained. “We’re no closer to finding your dad than we were the day I met you, so I imagine I’ll be around for a little while longer. I’d rather us not fight the whole time. It’s getting exhausting, if I’m being honest.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess we can do that.”

“Okay, then.” You cleared your throat and stuck out your hand. “Hi. I’m (Y/N).”

Dean shook his head at your antics despite the smile pulling on his lips. “Dean.” This time, he actually shook your hand.

***

Later that morning, you and Dean had returned to the car for weapons. Thankfully, Dean still had some silver bullets left in the trunk. With guns in hand, the two of you headed back to the sewers. A few minutes into your walk, you came across a rancid pile of flesh, teeth, and fingernails.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Your face contorted in disgust. You looked up when you heard a rustling noise a little down the tunnel. You could see a dim glow from the place you’d heard the rustling. You tightened your grip on your gun and let Dean lead the way into the chamber. He nodded his head in the direction of the left side of a figure covered in a tarp at the back end of the chamber, indicating for you to go that way. You followed his instruction and crept up on the figure with him. He pulled the sheet away from the figure, only to reveal Rebecca.

“What happened?” you asked her. Her hands and feet were bound, her mouth was gagged, her hair was a mess, and her skin was littered with bruising and cuts.

She was still shaking and crying as she spoke. “I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay,” Dean told her.

The two of you untied her and made sure she was able to walk before guiding her out of the sewers.

“We’ve gotta hurry,” Dean said. “Sam went to see you.”

When you got to Rebecca’s house, all you could hear was the grunting, furniture breaking, skin hitting skin, and bones cracking coming from the living room. And then, choking. You had no doubt it was Sam.

Dean seemed to pick up on that as well. He hurried into the den, shouting, “Hey!”

The shifter spotted Dean and got off of Sam. Dean shot twice, and with that, the shifter was dead.

You rushed over to Sam and cradled his head in your lap. “Are you okay?” you asked him.

He smiled painfully at you. “Peachy.”

You giggled at him. You looked up at Dean standing over… Dean… and watched as he ripped his necklace off the shifter.

You watched Rebecca say goodbye to Sam, and she waved at you and Dean who stood by the Impala. She turned to go back inside her house.

Sam approached the two of you.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asked his brother.

“Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder,” Sam jested. “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.”

You giggled. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Get in the car, (Y/N),” he chastised you. For the first time since you met him, you knew he wasn’t trying to tear you down. It was refreshing to have an amicable relationship with him.

As Dean tore down the road, he turned to his brother. “Sorry, man.”

“About what?”

“I really wish things could be different, you know?” the older brother said earnestly. “I wish you could just be… Joe College.”

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in,” Sam admitted.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak,” Dean quipped.

You loved earnest moments between the two brothers. It made you feel normal; in a weird way.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam said dryly.

“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way.”

“Yeah, I know you are.” Sam’s voice softened.

“You know, I gotta say. I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.”

You felt one of Dean’s stupid jokes coming on. “Oh, here we go.”

He eyed you in the rearview mirror.

“Miss what?” Sam asked.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?” Dean smirked.

You shook your head. “And there it is.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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ineffably-human · 9 months

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I need Guillermo to have a full, five-alarm existential crisis next season. (He should have started it this season, but eh.)

What is he even supposed to do now? He's still doing these chores, why the hell is he dusting? It's nice to keep his hands busy but it doesn't shut his mind up. Sometimes he avoids Nandor for days. Sometimes he talks to him for days about absolutely nothing. Nandor's been so patient, he's really giving him time. Is he disappointed even though he said he wasn't? He probably wonders what the hell Guillermo is still doing there. Guillermo had accused him of being about to murder his mom in cold blood, just to be cruel, he should have known Nandor would never -

He should probably go see his mom, now than he can again. The last thing he did was hypnotize her, he doesn't want the last conversation with his mom to be hypnotizing her. He doesn't know if he can sit at that table again and talk about recipes and gas prices and fútbol teams and why he hasn't called lately. They're going to ask him how the promotion went. Oh fuck he has fourteen years of no work history. Has he done taxes? Does he even know how to do taxes? What's his credit score?

Did he do the right thing? Maybe there was a way around - no, it felt wrong, but everything else around it felt right. Why did it always feel like what he needed if it wasn't? Laszlo gave him this big book of supernatural creatures, like there's ones he's never heard of in his life, and that's sweet. But nothing's making sense yet like vampires did. Is that because of the slayer blood? Did he spend his whole life loving vampires because he's supposed to kill vampires? Is he never going to want anything else in his life the way he wanted this?

He still wants Nandor to bite him. Part of him still thinks that if Nandor bit him, everything else would have worked out. Maybe he just wants an excuse for Nandor to hold him. He's kissed like - two or three men ever, in his life? He's not even mad about that, he just wishes there had been more - no, not more. The right one.

He thought when he finally became like them, they'd start to look him in the eye and actually see him. But they're all looking at him more than ever. He doesn't know what to do with it. He doesn't know how to love them like this.

Oh god, he's probably going to die someday, unless he does something about it. Should he do something about it?

Why doesn't he know the answer to that?

#fandom: wwdits #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #cw anxiety #cw panic attack #(sort of)#char: guilermo the relentless #and it's nandor protecting him from himself for a while #as s3 parallels rear their ugly head

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violeteyedhero · 1 year

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Glass Onion and the Mona Lisa

(Major Glass Onion spoilers obviously)

I saw a post yesterday that showed the Mona Lisa next to the final shot of Helen sitting on the beach, posed the exact same way, with that same unreadable smile. I think in that moment everything kind of clicked for me, and I think I understand now how it was used as a motif. I poured things out on twitter and I'm gonna do it here too.

So the Mona Lisa is introduced about thirty minutes into the movie, before anything has technically happened. We are shown that Miles purchased it, had it put in his living room (full of volatile hydrogen gas), behind a glass door, and that he can override the glass just to see her face. He looks at it with some awe, but to do something so arrogant and dangerous is not something that you do when you just admire the art...it's a power move. It's a rich man flaunting a priceless artwork and saying, look at me, I don't give a flying fuck about the consequences.

Then, he talks about how he saw it when he was six, and how he longs to be immortalised like the painting. Smash cut to Andi.

Now, I have only a rough recollection of Da Vinci's story, but something that I do recall is this--we still don't know who was the true subject of the Mona Lisa. There were at least two women who it could have been (as well as Da Vinci's male student/lover and Da Vinci himself). There's even still a fair bit of debate as to whether he painted it at all. The truth has long been obfuscated. Only the physical painting by Da Vinci matters to people. The subject is irrelevant.

Not long after this scene, we discover that 'Andi' is not in fact Cassandra, but Helen, employing the rich bitch voice that the sisters created as kids. An elegant, unreadable woman with an ever-changing mood and smile, and an air of absolute mystery. Her character is framed, in the first half at least, as the real-life Mona Lisa.

As the story goes on, you can see how important this parallel becomes. Miles constantly reiterates how he wants to be mentioned in the same breath as the Mona Lisa. In the same way, he wants to be mentioned in the same breath as Andi Brand. He tries to be like her, cheat her, steal from her, surpass her, and take her life from her. He uses the image and money that he gets from being her partner, and uses it to steal her ideas and kill her. He obfuscates her role in the company's founding, takes it for himself.

Andi as a person is dead, but the world doesn't know that yet. For now, Miles gets to keep her image and everything she's built for himself. Not for admiration, but for power. The world just sees her as the subject of his work. Secondary, and irrelevant.

Enter Helen, who steps into her sister's role and uses her image to get to the truth. The others don't know who she is, but Miles should. It's glaringly obvious, but he never thinks to look beyond the glass between them and see who she truly is or why she's there. And he doesn't let go of his need to show off how powerful he is.

Because like the Mona Lisa, the envelope is in plain sight. The last piece of Andi's work is hidden within the Glass Onion, just behind his fake napkin--the one he took credit for.

Miles loses, in the end, because he's so deeply arrogant and idiotic. He plays dirty to get what he wants, and can't help but mount his prizes on the wall. But Helen understands that, at the end of the day, she is a third grade teacher from Alabama, and a black woman against an absurdly wealthy white man. He will not face consequences for this. He won't even be arrested for Andi's murder.

So what does she do? She literally destroys the glass. She annihilates the illusion of his brilliance. She destroys the layers of the onion, shows the rot in its core--his persona, his wonder fuel--and then, she destroys the Mona Lisa. Because it is a painting, something that he chose to put in danger. And the world will see if it is gone.

She brings down the glass barrier, but he destroyed the painting the moment he set foot in Andi's house. And maybe this way, even if he isn't remembered as the murderer of Andi Brand, he will always be remembered as the destroyer of the Mona Lisa. It's a small sort of justice, but it's the only thing that Miles will answer to.

The dust settles, Helen goes to the beach. She ends the story sitting as the Mona Lisa did, her arms crossed, expression unreadable. There's no illusion anymore, no glass between us and the subject. We can look into her eyes. It's a moment where the subject of the art reclaims the narrative, not unlike OJ's ending shot in Nope. The painting may now be gone, but the Brand sisters have been immortalised in a way. Andi is gone, but Helen is alive and true.

#god I love this movie #glass onion #mona lisa #Janelle monae my queen #rian you genius #also if anyone wants to bitch about him burning the mona lisa #it's not real #also like half of da Vinci's works were burned so he'd probably have a laugh over something like this

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year

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The Coffee is Not the Murder Weapon

Pairing: Shawn Spencer x Plus!size!reader Characters: Plus!size!reader (aka Beans), Shawn Spencer, Burton “Gus” Guster, Carlton Lassiter, Juliet “Jules” O’Hara, Woody, Greg (the murderer), Buzz McNab (briefly mentioned) Warnings: Mentions of guns and bullets, violence, this man Greg is crazy, coffee shops should not be a place for murder plots, Woody being “prepared”, okay plot but stay for the fluff, friends to lovers, my love for writing for these peps returns Word Count: 2,466

A/N: Bad plot but I tried, and it didn’t turn out completely horrible so yay. Yes, I’m giving myself a pat on the back, don’t judge me :p

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“Push on the gas, Lassie or else someone is going to get hurt and it’s not gonna be me,” Shawn says, his voice elevated as he thinks about what could happen.

“What’re you talking about, Spencer?”

“Shawn, calm down and tell us what’s going on,” Juliet tried to reason with him.

“No! I can’t- I- you just gave to trust me on this.”

“If you want us to trust you, you have to explain what’s going on. Do you feel something?”

“Oh my god,” Gus says, after Shawn hands him the phone. “Floor it, Lassiter!”

“Why?!”

Shawn rubs his hands across his face. “The barista did it. We were wrong about the manager being poisoned.”

Juliet furrows her brows, trying to make sense of the words flying out of the psychic’s mouth. “But Woody said-”

“He-”

“He’s calling me,” Gus announces, showing his friend the phone.

Shawn quickly snatches it out of his buddy’s hand, answering it.

“Shawn, you’ll never believe the story I overheard last night when I was at the bar. So, this girl, who was close to turning thirty, although I think she was lying. Anyway, she was saying-”

“The barista did it with one of those skinny tongue depressors.”

“Yes! It never ceases to amaze me how well your skills are.”

The psychic tosses the phone up in the air for his friend to catch.

“Sounds like we have the right to arrest someone.” Carlton speeds up, maneuvering himself, safely, between cars. “Where am I going, Spencer?”

“Where do you think?”

“If I knew, do you think I’d be asking you?”

“The coffee shop. Beans told me she had a shift, and our killer does too. She put it together before my visions became clearer. If we don’t get there within the next five minutes, it’s going to be a manhunt and I’ll be the first in line.”

“We’re not going to let anything happen to her,” Juliet tells him.

“I’ll believe it when I can see that she’s safe.”

“Sha-”

“We’re here. Spencer, I’m only going to say this once and only once. Do not and I mean, do not go in there.”

“But, I can-”

“No,” Carlton tells him before he and Juliet rush out of the car, standing by the front door with their guns in front of them before they sneak into the building.

“I’m going in.”

“Oh, no you are not,” Gus slams his hand onto the door lock.

“Yes, I am.”

“Sha- Shawn.” Gus makes the noise people typically make when trying to call a cat over, “psst. Psst. Shawn, no.” He gets out of the car when he realizes his friend isn’t going to follow him back towards the safety.

The two make their way into the building, sneaking through the front door, only pausing when they hear a strange noise.

“Are we really going to go in there, Shawn? I mean, what if he has a gun or some other weapon?”

“That’s when you selflessly throw yourself in front of our bad guy while I, the hero, save the day.”

“I don’t like that plan.”

“Well, it’s the only one I have so far.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Fine, it’s not but this one makes us both look like heroes.”

“I understand why you’re making jokes, but we need a real plan if we want to make sure Beans doesn’t get hurt.”

The psychic sighs, “I know, Gus.” He leans off the wall, glancing back over his shoulder. “I have a plan.”

“What is it?”

“You stay here and I’m gonna make a distraction.”

“Okay- wait! What?” He turns around, finding his friend nowhere near him. “Dammit Shawn.”

Shawn walks around the corner, hearing clattering coming from the back and rushes forward only for you to duck behind the counter.

“Shawn?” You stare at him with furrowed brows. “Duck. Duck.”

“Duck?” He dives to the floor when bullets come flying through the door, breaking the glass window. He wraps his arms around you, covering your head as he pulls you closer, making sure nothing happens to you.

Once the firing stops, you lift your head off his shoulder.

“Do you know the way out of here?” He whispers.

“We won’t make it without being seen. Why are you here alone?”

“I remembered you told me this place has a really weird back entrance, so it takes a few minutes to get in here. If we stall him long enough, then maybe we can make it out of this alive while Lassie and Jules do their thing.” He stops talking and becomes quiet. “I have an idea.”

“You are not going to try and make a conversation with him. Are you?”

“It’s called a distraction.”

“A terrible one, at that.”

“I could do it.”

You glance over his shoulder.

“He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

You gulp, nodding. Your former coworker, Greg, grabs your arm, yanking you away from your friend.

“Hey. Hey! Let her go.”

Greg shakes his head, “no, I don’t think I will.” He forces you into the nearest chair.

“You don’t need to need to manhandle Beans like that.”

“It’s her fault.”

“What’s her fault?”

“Ruining my plan and you, the psychic coming around wasn’t any help either.”

“It sounds like you have a problem with me and not-”

He waves the gun around in Shawn’s face. “You stay over there. She stays here.”

You tense up at the feeling of the metal on the back of your head.

He nods. “I’m staying over here. You don’t need to keep waving the gun around.”

“Santa Barbara PD, drop your weapon,” Carlton says, keeping his attention on Greg.

“I don’t think I will.”

“You sure you want to do that?”

“Why not? I’ve got a hostage right here,” he steps to the side, letting the officer get a view of your back.

“Let the civilians go so we can talk.”

“No,” he clicks the trigger of the gun.

You close your eyes, trying not to shake as you hear everything going on behind you.

“No,” Shawn takes a step closer, and everyone’s focus turns onto him. “Remember it was me. I’m the psychic, I know why you did it. He wasn’t giving you the proper respect, right? And he should have, you’re the one who made sure everything ran smoothly around here especially when he would take his sporadic trips. You did everything he should have done and he- he-”

“He was gonna fire me and give my job to Janet, but she put it in her two weeks’ notice after that and then she,” he spits in your direction. “Was the next one.”

“And, you believe she would have taken your job without hesitation?”

Greg nods.

Shawn nods before he starts to chuckle. “And that’s when you need to listen or pay attention to all employees because she’s a very kind woman who would never do that and I’m lucky to know... that took a minor detour, I’ll admit but it just proves that she isn’t what you created in your mind.”

“Are you done?” Carlton asks.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.”

That’s all the detective needed to hear as he takes another step forward. “Let her go.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“Greg.”

“What are you doing?” Shawn whispers.

“Do you know why our boss would take sudden trips?”

“Yeah. He’s a greedy bastard who wants to blow away his money.”

“No, his wife is sick, and she’s been in a home that specializes with her condition. She has her good days and her bad days, so when it’s not looking good, he rushes over there in case it’s going to be his last time with her.”

“Really?” He jerks your arm. “How do you know?”

“He told me because I found him crying in the storage closet when it was my turn to close the shop a few months ago. He trusted you, that’s why he was confident with you being in charge.”

He lowers his hand.

Shawn sees the way you’re eyeing your coworker and shakes his head.

Greg drops his gun.

You take this as your opportunity to run away from him before anything else could happen.

Shawn pushes you behind him.

Juliet and Lassiter do their thing, arresting him just as Gus rushes in, holding a broom as his weapon of choice.

“Nice timing, Guster,” Carlton tells him as he passes by to put the, now, arrested man in the nearest squad car, which of course happens to be Buzz’s.

“Is he gone?”

“Yes, Gus. He’s gone, you can stop now.”

The frightened man takes notice of the scene and slowly sets the broom down before sniffing as he wipes his nose. “I knew that; I was just testing you.”

“No, you weren’t,” you chime in.

“I’m gonna let that slide for right now.”

“You’re so nice, Gus.” You groan, holding your side. “I think it’s time for me to get checked out.”

Two paramedics run in, asking which of three needs to be checked out.

All three of you answer, informing the gentleman that it’s you. Once they make sure you’re all good, they give you one last recommendation to get a full check up at the hospital to make sure you’re all good and don’t have any underlying injuries they may not have caught.

You wave them off, “yeah, yeah,” your words fine out slurred before you pass out.

The whole way there, everyone was worried about you, Shawn more than the others.

Henry walks into the room, placing a hand on his boy’s shoulder. “When was the last time you left the room?”

“Not once.”

“You need to eat something, Shawn.”

The psychic doesn’t say anything else.

“You know, you need to eat something if you want to confess to her.”

“Confess what?”

“I raised you better than to play dumb, Shawn.”

The younger man gets up out of his seat. “Fine, so maybe I do know what you’re talking about but why would I-”

“Shawn.”

“No, no. Don’t distract me.”

“Shawn.”

“Why are you-”

“Shawn.”

“What?”

Henry sighs and spins his son around, leaving his boy to get the girl.

“Oh, you’re up.”

“I am.”

He grabs the water by your bed and holds for you.

“I can drink water on my own.”

He nods, slowly placing the cup in your hands.

“How are you?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

You set the cup down onto the table. “You could but, you’re antsy and an antsy Shawn isn’t a good Shawn.”

“Funny.”

“Usually, you’d have some witty comeback when I say things like that, what’s going on in your head?”

“You could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

“But you could have.”

“I didn’t though.”

“But… you could have and- and-”

You slowly push yourself up, reaching out for his hand, bringing him closer.

He’s careful as he sits down beside you.

“What would have happened, if it did happen? Can you find it in you to explain that bit to me?”

“You mean, other than the fact that the woman I’ve been in love with since we were kids would be dead, not much.”

“Wha-” Your jaw drops.

“I wouldn’t have been able to come up with a clever plan and pretend like I didn’t know how it happened even though you know when I’m lying.”

“So, what you’re saying is you like me and you want to ask me out?” You ask, a sly smile dancing across your lips.

“Maybe.”

“Good.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“I feel like there’s something else you have planned.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna go find my doctor, ask when I can leave so then you can take me out on our date and fall asleep on my couch.”

This is the first time he’s smile since this morning, and it feels great. “Don’t move.”

“I won’t.”

Woody rushes in with a black bag.

You raise a brow. “Did you really think I was dead?”

“Wha- oh this,” he points to the bag. “No, no. I was just- I thought I needed to be prepared.”

“Get out.”

“I’m the one who brought the flowers.” He points with a weak smile.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful but get out.”

“Yep, got it.” Woody manages to move out of the way before he could bump into Shawn and your doctor and continues to run out of the building.

You and Shawn had a wonderful time getting dinner (with Gus driving so you could pick up the food) and dropping you guys off at your place (after being told he wasn’t invited).

“If I’m not a part of this date, why did I drive you two to go pick up jerk chicken?”

Shawn shrugs, “sorry, buddy.”

You jab your elbow into his side, “I don’t know. I’m sorry, he used you. How about tomorrow we all go out and get breakfast before we head over to the station?”

“Thank you, I think that would be a great idea.” Gus doesn’t move from his spot.

“Do you want to take some for the road?”

“This is why I like you.”

“You’ve liked me being around since we met, I used to pretend you weren’t involved in whatever it was he,” you point to Shawn. “Was doing so you wouldn’t get suspended.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m happy he’s partially your problem now.” He takes his napkin wrapped portions and waves you two off before he leaves.

“Can we go upstairs now? It’s getting cold.”

“Quite whining and maybe you’ll get a blanket.”

He leans against the doorway as he waits for you to pull out your keys. “Is there anyway, I could persuade you?”

The doorknob clicks, you open the door and smile at him. “No.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“Your psychic abilities tell you that?”

“Maybe.”

You roll your eyes and step inside. “Come on, I’m hungry and I’m not afraid to take the food from you.”

“But then you’d have a starving man in your home, rummaging through your fridge searching for a pineapple.”

“I’m not afraid to take that risk.”

“Rude.”

You chuckle, “hurry up and get over here. We can watch a movie.”

“I’m getting us some drinks. I can’t die of thirst after fulfilling my need of food.”

“Okay.”

“And here is your drink,” he sets them down on the coffee table. “And your food.”

You practically snatch the food from him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I mean… for everything that’s happened.”

He settles on the couch beside you, turning for you to see his soft smile. “I know.”

You shake your head. “You’re so cocky.”

“Only for you.”

“I feel like I should be ending things here.”

“But you’re not. You love me too much.”

“Shush and watch the movie.”

He smiles to himself, knowing he’s made you all flustered.

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safety-writes-noms · 6 months

Note

I’m very curious about your ocs!! I really like the idea, and your ocs seem so cute 😭😭, but also angsty vore 😈, I would love to have a lore drop on the two, I’m slightly obsessed with the idea, I love me some platonic vore, like just noms bro, nom nom. But I would really like some more info on the bros, because RAHHH ADHD.

Ps (sorry if this sounds bad I’m half lucid and have been in a car for 7 hours lol)

OFC!! This took a while D: finals are coming up and my teachers are working me to the bone. I did an info dump on the bros a bit ago so I’m just going to add on. Prep for finals is murdering me tbh

—

cal drives him and his brother home and the car ride is just. really quiet. Oliver doesn't really know what to say and cal just looks like he's going to throw up the entire time. they stop at a gas station where cal wordlessly tosses olly a change of clothes from the trunk and gestures to the bathroom while still looking vaguely ill. they get home and Oliver brushes off his parents with an excuse because he doesn't want to explain anything at the moment.

he takes a long shower, then collapses into bed, thinking hard about what had happened. his injuries are healed -- something he didnt notice until he got home and he feels relatively fine despite spending hours in what he thought was acid. he begisn to form his own conclusions.

Meanwhile, cal sits down in the kitchen with Ethel and Kane and just spills. everything. his hands are trembling, he can't look up at them, and it takes him a while to get through it all. he expects them to grab a gun and level it at his head or something because he's a monster.

they don't. instead they look at him for a long while, go to their room to talk for a couple of hours before coming out. they thank him for saving olly and cal just wants to rip his skin off. he's a monster, why can't they see that? he doesn't deserve having people who are so kind and forgiving and understanding loving him, he's not worthy enough to be their son.

they're an old couple, and they've lived in this town long enough to know that there are some super natural elements to their environment. Oliver tries to talk to cal in the next few days but cal just stays silent most of the time, thinking.

then, in the middle of the night, he leaves. takes all of his important belongings, some clothes, and necessities and packs it all up in his car. no note or anything regarding his disappearance. he goes to his parent's room to say goodbye, then does the same for Oliver.

he's say goodbye before leaving for good, but Oliver wakes up first. they talk, it turns into an argument about cal running away, cal finally breaking down and telling Oliver that he's terrified that the whole "cannibalism" thing will happen again and while Oliver was fine the first time, it might not be the case for the potential next. he feels like he doesn't know himself or what he could do and the thought of hurting someone makes him feel sick to his stomach.

Oliver protests by saying that he was safe, his injuries were even healed up inside. callisto reluctantly tells Oliver that he will come back eventually but he still feels the need to leave to at least try to figure out what all of this means. Oliver forces him to promise and he agrees.

btw this is what Oliver saw when callisto was being all aggro:

The art is a little rushed but I managed to get it done so I’m happy with it 💪🤩

#sw answers asks #sw lore dump #sw rambles #Callisto and Oliver

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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anonymousewrites · 2 years

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A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 1) Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Forged Painting

“I should have stopped her from talking, hung up or something…then she couldn’t have revealed anything…” murmured (Y/N) as they watched the news about a “gas leak” that killed twelve people that night. Moriarty had killed twelve innocent people to make a point.

“It’s not your fault,” said Sherlock sternly. He would not have (Y/N) blaming themself for the actions of a madman. “Moriarty decided to put himself more in the firing line. It was the consequences of his actions, not yours.”

“What do you mean, he put himself in the firing line? Doesn’t holding people hostage and being a criminal mastermind put him in the firing line?” asked John.

Sherlock nodded to (Y/N) to explain the connections both had made. Making some deductions could distract them.

“Usually, Moriarty just organizes everything but remains removed from the situation,” said (Y/N). “But this time, he made direct contact with someone.”

“So, what—he arranged Connie Prince’s murder?” questioned John.

(Y/N) shrugged. “Probably has tons of people coming to him wanting their crimes fixed up.” They glanced at Sherlock. “Consulting criminal to your consulting detective.”

John furrowed his brow in disgust. “And has he given you the next case yet?”

(Y/N) shook their head. “Not yet. But that’s fine, it gives us time to investigate him.”

“Unfortunately, nothing so far on connections from any of the cases,” said Sherlock frustratedly. “All his living classmates check out.”

“But he had to be around the age of Moriarty,” murmured (Y/N). “Even Moriarty hinted at that.”

“So, why is he doing all this?” asked John. Sherlock and (Y/N) glanced at him, and he clarified, “He’s playing a game instead of just…doing the crime. Does he want to be caught?”

Sherlock decided against sharing the many theories he had on why Moriarty was focused on (Y/N) and instead opted to say, “I think he wants to be distracted.” Sherlock didn’t want to stress (Y/N) anymore than Moriarty already was by implying he had something else planned for them.

“Great, we’re a distraction,” sighed (Y/N). As if summoned from the discussion, the phone pinged. Tensing unconsciously, they pressed play and let the now-familiar short pip and one long one. They had reached number one. (Y/N) did not want to see what would happen after this case, at zero.

“Here’s the picture,” said (Y/N), holding up the pink phone. “Thames, somewhere on the South Bank between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo.”

“I’ll check the news online,” said John, opening his computer.

“We’ll take the papers,” said Sherlock.

After a few moments of scrolling through titles, John said, “Archway suicide.”

“Too common, it has to stand out,” murmured (Y/N) as they scrolled. “Two kids stabbed in Stoke Newington…” Wouldn’t be surprised if Moriarty did have a kid killed just to mess with me. Their lip curled up in disgust. “Oh, and a one Andrew West found on the train lines.” They looked at Sherlock. “None of these are it. Probably hasn’t gotten to the news yet.”

“I’ll call Lestrade,” said Sherlock, taking out his phone. He let it ring for a moment before Lestrade answered. “It’s me. Have you found anything on the South Bank between Waterloo and Southwark Bridge?” His eyes darkened. “Call us as soon as you get something.”

Early the next morning, Sherlock, John, and (Y/N) joined Lestrade and his team in the chilly dawn air at the crime scene where a man was dead, washed up on shore.

“D’you reckon it’s connected to the bomber, then?” asked Lestrade.

“It must be,” said (Y/N), but their brow furrowed. “Weird that he hasn’t been in touch, though…”

“But we assume that some bugger’s primed to explode, yeah?” asked Lestrade. (Y/N) nodded, and Lestrade huffed in frustration. “Any ideas so far?”

“Seven…” murmured Sherlock as he approached the body.

(Y/N) joined him and pulled out a magnifying glass to examine the body. Bruising around the nose and mouth in fingerprint patterns. (Y/N) tilted their head thoughtfully. Sherlock mentioned an assassin with that trademark style…Can’t remember the name. Badge means security guard, alarm on his watch for evening, so night-shift. They watched Sherlock pull some small papers from the man’s pocket. Those probably show where exactly he worked, and then that will hint to what artifact this is all about. Because it does have to be about an artifact for a security guard to be killed by an assassin. What else would be so valuable where he worked?

The pair stood and nodded to John to check over the body. He was a little more trained in the medical aspect, so he might give them a few more insights.

After a moment, John stood back up. “He’s been dead at least twenty-four hours. Did he drown?”

“Apparently not,” reported Lestrade. “Not enough of the Thames in his lungs. Asphyxiated.”

“I’d agree,” said John.

“A lot of bruising around his nose and mouth,” remarked (Y/N). “Looks like fingerprints.”

John nodded. “In his late thirties, I’d say. Not in the best condition.”

“He’s been in the river for a long while. The water’s destroyed most of the data. But I’ll tell you one thing: that lost Vermeer painting’s a fake,” said Sherlock.

Oh, so he worked for the Hickman Gallery, thought (Y/N). That makes sense. Lost painting, worth a lot…Someone could kill over it.

“What?” asked John and Lestrade in confusion.

“We need to identify the corpse,” said (Y/N), nodding and ignoring the men’s questions.

“Wait, wait, wait, what painting? What are you two on about?” questioned Lestrade.

“Vermeer is a Dutch Old Master. A lost painting of his was recently discovered,” said (Y/N). “Worth thirty-million pounds.”

“Okay, so what does that have to do with this stiff?” asked Lestrade.

“Everything.” Sherlock grinned. “Have you heard of the Golem?”

Oh, yeah, that’s the assassin’s name, thought (Y/N).

“Golem?” Lestrade looked at Sherlock, confused.

“Jewish folk tale of a man made of clay,” explained (Y/N). “It’s also the name of an assassin.”

“Oskar Dzundza, one of the deadliest assassins in the world. That is his trademark style,” said Sherlock with a nod to the victim’s bruising.

“So this is a hit?” confirmed Lestrade.

“Definitely. The Golem squeezes the life out of his victims with his bare hands,” said Sherlock.

“But what has this got to do with that painting? I don’t see,” said John.

“You do see, you just don’t understand,” said Sherlock exasperatedly.

“Let’s just explain it to them,” said (Y/N). “We can’t waste time.”

Sherlock collected himself and nodded. “What do we know about this corpse? The killer’s not left us with much, just the shirt and trousers. They’re pretty formal, maybe he was going out for a night, but the trousers are heavy duty, polyester, nasty, same as the shirt—cheap. They’re both too big for him, so some sort of standard issue uniform. Dressed for work, then.”

“What kind of a work?” said (Y/N), taking over. “Judging by the hook on his belt for a walkie-talkie, he’s a security guard.” They nodded. “That would explain his backside.”

“Backside?” said Lestrade incredulously.

“Flabby. Indicates a sedentary life, but the soles of his feet and varicose veins in his leg contradict that. So, lots of walking and lots of sitting,” said (Y/N). “His watch also has a regular alarm for the evening, so night shifts. All of that makes ‘security guard’ pretty likely.”

“Why regular? Maybe he just set his alarm like that the night before he died,” suggested Lestrade.

(Y/N) shook their head in dissent. “No, buttons are stiff, hardly touched, so never changed. His alarm was a routine.”

“But there’s something else,” continued Sherlock. “The killer must have been interrupted, otherwise he would have stripped the corpse completely.” He pointed to a discolored patch on the shirt. “There was some sort of badge or insignia on the shirt front that he tore off, suggesting the dead man worked somewhere recognizable, some kind of institution.” Sherlock pulled the soggy paper slips from his pocket. “Found this in his trouser pockets. Sodden by the river but still recognizable.”

“Ticket stubs,” identified (Y/N). “He worked in a museum or gallery.”

“Yes,” said Sherlock. “Did a quick check—the Hickman Gallery has reported one of its attendants missing, Alex Woodbridge. Now, why would anyone want to pay the Golem to suffocate a perfectly ordinary gallery attendant? Interference: the dead man knew something about something.”

“The lost Vermeer is the Gallery’s greatest piece right know and is worth thirty million,” said (Y/N). “Logically, it has to do with that. If it was just being stolen, then that wouldn’t matter, it would disappear, but if it’s a fake…that’s much more different. They’d need even more secrecy. So, the security guard has to die.”

“Fantastic,” said John, impressed by Sherlock’s and (Y/N)’s intelligence as usual.

“Meretricious,” admitted Sherlock, telling on his own show-offiness.

“And a Happy New Year!” finished Lestrade exasperatedly.

“Poor sod,” said John, looking at the victim, likely Alex Woodbridge.

“I’d better get my feelers out for this Golem character,” said Lestrade, pulling out his phone.

“Pointless. You’ll never find him,” said Sherlock. “But I know a man who can.”

“Who?” asked Lestrade.

“Him,” said (Y/N), grinning at Sherlock.

“Waterloo Bridge,” said Sherlock to the cab driver after they got in.

“Where now? The gallery?” asked John.

“In a bit,” said Sherlock.

“The Hickman’s contemporary art,” mused (Y/N). “Wonder why they’d have an Old Master…Probably adds to the mystery.” They sighed tiredly.

Sherlock nodded in agreement as he wrote a note in his notebook and then folded it into a banknote. “Stop,” he exclaimed and jumped out of the cab. “Wait here,” he said to (Y/N) and John.

“Wait, where are you going?” asked John, just to get no response. He turned to (Y/N) questioningly.

“He’s investing,” said (Y/N), perfectly aware that Sherlock was talking to someone in his network.

A few minutes later, Sherlock arrived and slid smoothly back into his seat. “Now we go to the Hickman Gallery.” He looked at John. “Got any change?”

“Uh, yeah.” John handed some over.

The cab took off, and when it stopped, Sherlock got out with (Y/N) behind him. John went to leave, but the detective and apprentice shook their head.

“No, we need you to find out all you can about the gallery attendant. Lestrade will give you the address,” said Sherlock.

Ordinarily, John would be annoyed, but he knew they had precious little time so did not argue and just nodded. He gave new instructions to the cab driver, and then he was off.

Sherlock and (Y/N), with black security guard uniforms and hats, walked into the exhibit with ease (people were unobservant and saw what they wanted to believe; not an adult and teenager, but two guards). They gazed at the Vermeer, trying to gain any clues possible from it.

“Don’t you have something to do?” questioned a professionally dressed woman curtly with a heavy Eastern European outfit.

“Just admiring the view,” said (Y/N) casually.

“Yes. Lovely. Now get back to work. We open tonight,” she ordered.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” said Sherlock with a smirk as he walked by her with (Y/N).

“What?” asked the woman, annoyed.

“The Vermeer’s a fake,” said (Y/N) simply.

“What?” snapped the woman.

“It’s a fake. It has to be. It’s the only possible explanation,” said Sherlock. He glanced at the woman’s ID badge. “You’re in charge, aren’t you, Ms. Wenceslas?”

“Who are you two?” demanded Wenceslas.

“Alex Woodbridge knew that the painting was a fake, so someone sent the Golem to take care of him. Was it you?” questioned Sherlock.

“Golem? What the hell are you talking about?!” cried Wenceslas.

“Are you working for someone else—fake it for them?” asked (Y/N).

“It’s not a fake,” insisted Wenceslas.

“It is.” (Y/N) glanced at the Vermeer. “I don’t know what the problem is yet, but there’s something wrong with it.”

“What the hell are you two on about?” hissed Wenceslas. “You know, I could have you two sacked on the spot.”

“Not a problem,” said Sherlock, turning to leave.

“No?” She scoffed, refusing to just let them get away with speaking to her like that.

“Nah, we don’t work here,” said (Y/N). They shrugged. “Just giving you some friendly advice.”

“How did you two get in?” demanded Wenceslas.

Sherlock scoffed. “Please.”

�� “I want to know!” she cried.

Sherlock playfully took of his cap and tipped (Y/N)’s off too. “The art of disguise is knowing how to hide in plain sight.”

“Who are you?” questioned Wenceslas.

“Sherlock Holmes,” said Sherlock.

“(Y/N) (L/N),” said (Y/N).

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“You should be,” said (Y/N), no hint of joking in their voice.

#a study of the heart and brain #sherlock x teen!reader #sherlock x teen reader #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #x teen reader #x teen!reader #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #bbc

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tibby · 2 years

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well hello… I am but a humble jigsquad Guy thinking about… Amanda. so if you have any thoughts on uhhh mandy and small soft acts of kindness headcanons… that is all Thank U Sm…

i've been talking to my friends about mandy a lot these past few days so you're in luck! all of these are in jigsquad verse, because of course, and feature various dynamics:

amanda has a lot of food insecurity because she's spent most of her life never knowing if the next meal was guaranteed, so when they all go out to dinner she orders more food than she can eat at the time and brings home all her leftovers. she gets her own little fridge for them and the rest of her food.

the first time anybody really celebrates her birthday with her is when she turns thirty, and the guys make her a cake and give her gifts and lynn texts her to wish her a happy birthday too. it's A Lot and she gets pretty emotional and overwhelmed, and at first she's like What The Fuck Is This. but she's loved and safe and happy, and it's times like this when adam has his arm around her shoulder and he's teasing her for getting old (and god, she never thought she'd make it to thirty), that she's able to forget all the horrible things they've had to do for her to have this.

amanda loves to go with lawrence on his weekly grocery shop. it again feeds back into her food insecurity and having the comfort and security to know that she CAN get everything she wants and doesn't have to choose between crackers or cereal to survive off for the next week...it's nice. she gets to spend time with lawrence too which she enjoys more than she's willing to admit.

she has a photo adam took of them all at christmas wearing stupid matching sweaters (amanda and mark grumbled about it but adam is very persistent when he wants to be annoying and lawrence was like Yes Of Course My Darling <3 so they really had no choice) stuck to the wall next to her bed. other stuff is there too: her picture of venus, a napkin from the time she and adam were waiting for the others to arrive at dinner and they tried to draw out a graph to figure out the "mark the weird freak serial killer vs mark the normal-ish guy" math, the torn out cover of a cd booklet from a band that daniel matthews told her about, a pokemon card that diana gave her during one of lawrence's custody weekends. the note from a bouquet of flowers lynn sent her that reads can you please be a little more normal about this stuff? because of the time amanda broke in to leave some flowers on lynn's coffee table.

(amanda breaking into lynn's place to leave lynn gifts is a recurring them, much to lynn's dismay. she'll come home to an envelope of sexy amanda pictures on her bed (taken by adam. what's a few nudes between besties?) and be turned on, but also stand there wondering why amanda has to keep breaking in. it’s just weird.)

amanda doesn't really know what to do when in the presence of diana and corbett (especially as the girls get older and begin to wonder about the things their parents get up to) but she's sweet to them and lets diana paint her nails and buys corbett stuffed toys and leaves pastries for her and lynn whenever she does her old b&e routine.

amanda awkwardly tries to be a mentor to daniel after nerve gas house even though a. she's in no position to mentor anyone about anything ever and b. she played a role in the disappearance/murder of his father. he’s a smart kid so he knows that she’s definitely involved in the jigsaw killings but he also knows that amanda has been through hell and tried to keep him & laura safe and was genuinely distraught by everything xavier did, plus he’s able to understand that his father was the reason amanda began down this path in the first place. so he doesn’t turn her in, and she checks in on him occasionally after everything. invites him to thanksgiving and makes sure he’s staying out of trouble and is like “if you need anything, i have a doctor friend who can help you out” (lawrence is not aware of this). they talk music and she brings him mcdonalds and it's weird and uncomfortable but much like with lynn, daniel knows that amanda is trying.

one of her hobbies is sending hoffman fake news articles from websites like truesciencefax dot org and seeing what he'll believe.

fucking with hoffman generally speaking is one of her favourite things to do, but on the anniversary of angie's death she steals him a pack of cigarettes and her and adam will hang out with hoffman at the house all day to make sure he doesn’t fall back on drinking or get so depressed he starts massacring people. and they just kinda watch movies hoffman likes (top gun, the princess bride, air bud) and let him talk about his dead sister uninterrupted. and the three of them suck at emotions but it’s Enough and lawrence brings home pizza for dinner. something something mark hating amanda at first because angie was dead and here was this junkie, similar to angie in age and appearance and wasting her fucking life. but eventually it turning into “i couldn’t save angie but i can save amanda” something something.

amanda is used to running, to leaving before you get left. and lynn understands this without amanda having to voice it (because really, she never would anyway), and so she doesn't let it eat her alive when amanda keeps leaving her bed before the sun is up. she knows that she has to wait for amanda to come to her. that one day, she'll wake up, and amanda will be fast asleep beside her, dark hair littered with hazel flecks in the morning sun, a rare look of calm on her face. she just has to wait for the day amanda recognises her as a safe place to land.

#ask #inaflashback #headcanons #jigsquad

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 1 year

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LONAN KILLS REEVE IN SV?!?!!!

HE DOES LOL

explanation & excerpts under the cut! <3

CW: murder/death/torture/trauma

okay so I am the DRAMA--obviously Reeve is still alive, but she does technically die and only survives what happens because of Harrison (king <3).

TL;DR: Lonan is brainwashed by his tyrannical family & is sent on a literal mission to kill his sister. He does, but Harrison "revives" her with his magic (the icon the legend the man himself).

More details: So back in 2015 when I was writing book 3 of the original series, Lonan was ALSO brainwashed, but by his other sister Anna and Anna's girlfriend Kate who were mad at him for some reason (I can't remember why exactly, everyone is mad at Lonan in that book LOL). The logistics of how this was done are quite fuzzy because I was 13 :) but essentially think of Lonan as a bluetooth speaker who could be controlled remotely! <3

In this state, Lonan almost kills Reeve a couple of times (and this is when they love each other! not when they don't know they're siblings and have been trying to murder each other!). This DEEPLY upsets him and becomes a major point of tension for his characterization (I believe he makes Harrison promise to kill him if he tries to hurt his sister again, which is... on brand for right now <3). At that point in the series, Lonan's biggest fear is that he's still a terrible person--he's struggling to be redeemable even to himself. So to hurt the most important person in his life at the time, his sister... oof. He's not happy.

I wanted to bring this back into SV, since I love recycling old material into this book to relive the joy of writing them originally (not me... finding joy in psychologically torturing these siblings oops). So Lonan is once again "programmed," but the logistics make more sense because this is done through magical means. Lonan in SV is an extremely controlled person. Every move he makes is monitored, and what little good he does have in his life are used against him to torture him (like... his girlfriend... who I haven't talked about on here... but we can!).

Reeve isn't an exception to this. The play by play of what happens here is that the squad (Harrison, Reeve, Darren, Foster), have all been looking for Humilitas (the magical bird that's been missing for a while/the magical bird that Lonan is part of). They locate Humilitas (Harrison flew on the back of a giant bird who showed him where he was :) lol :)) and this is great! This has been their goal the whole time. But then this happens:

“Humilitas,” she says, inching her fingers toward its face. Her eyes sparkle like she’s seeing a saint, a god, even. She begins to smile, so close to touching him.

A branch snaps.

Not delicate. A weighted sound. A human sound.

Harrison spins around.

He doesn’t believe what he’s seeing at first. Surely, he’s hallucinating, sicker than he’d initially thought, bombarded by strange, unrealistic visions. Black hair like a silken cut of obsidian. Fingers precise, thin. Eyes kingfisher blue and as hot as a gas flame.

“Lonan?” he says, dazed, hardly able to make out his name without slurring every letter. Harrison lurches forward to where he stands, ten, twenty feet away, barely catches himself on a bramble bush. Thorns skewer his palm, but he feels no pain, not even when blood seeps down his wrist, candle wax overflowing. Instead, his mouth foams, his knees so weak that on his next step forward, he falls onto his elbows.

(there's a Feeding Habits easter egg here with the kingfisher eye description--which is the way Suzanna describes Harrison's eyes to Lonan awww. Also I love that feverish Harrison can describe Lonan once again like a painting. My god.)

Harrison is so stunned and is ALSO physically ill at this sight (relatable content <3). No, but really, he is quite literally sick (H&L are bonded through magical bird things & being so close is... not good for them at this point).

Reeve is so excited that she doesn't really notice Harrison's Suffering (TM). This happens:

As if she’s never seen Humilitas, as if he no longer matters, as if she’s an elk running from a mountain lion or a mountain lion chasing an elk, as if the earth no longer matters either, as if she is wind and he is alive, he is alive, as if, no matter who tries, no one can stop her, Reeve launches at her brother with full force.

And then we get... the actual drama:

Lonan raises an arm. From the ground, as Harrison watches through jittering eyes, he looks as if he’s going to hug her. They could be children again, reunited after a summer trip apart, one about to spin the other in greeting. Reeve is crying, tears glittering off her chin like flakes of shattered glass. She wraps her arms around her brother, shaking, sobbing, shocked as a rat snapped in a trap.

Lonan looks at her. His arm still raised. Does he smile? Harrison’s vision has spotted so badly that he can hardly tell.

Against the deep backdrop of night, a glint.

Harrison gasps. He wills himself to get up, to run to her. Ash. Bone.

But by then it’s too late. One moment, Reeve clutches her brother, and the next, he gouges a knife straight through her heart.

Aaand that's how part two ends. Fun!

We start part three in Reeve's first solo POV chapter, where Darren explains what happened:

“You died,” he whispers. Reeve blinks. “I saw you. On the ground. I swear, I got to you not even a second after he hurt you, yet you were gone. I looked at you and I thought, I’m going to have to bury her.”

(THHHEEE ROMANNNNCCEE)

She also sees the consequence of Harrison's magic (that did bring her back in the end!):

What marks her chest: a pattern the colour of soot, radiating from around the bandage covering the puncture.

Permanently grafted on her skin are the sun’s waving rays.

Harrison doesn't actually know how to use his magic at this point in the books/what his magic even is. But seeing his bestie literally die is... too much for him, and instinct just takes over really fast. This is the opening of chapter 17 and where the title of book 2 comes from:

From Harrison’s bloody fingertips: a hot, bright ribbon scatters from his body and across the ground, bounding like a heartbeat. Watch as it ripples and ignites a line of maple leaves, beating to the same rhythm as the words she can’t die. She can’t die. She can’t die. Not after all of this. Not now. Watch as it climbs over her thigh, side, stomach, a messenger with its goal in target. Watch as it stabs her body as the knife previously did, how upon contact with her heart, her entire figure luminesces. She becomes a Madonna on that sunless ground, haloed in light.

^^ get you a best friend who is so stubborn he refuses to let you die so miraculously uses his magic to save you <3 aw

After this, Harrison passes out for a long time. He's not aware of how terrible of a state he was in (also near dying) until he talks to Foster:

“Where’s Reeve?” he asks. Though he’d been feverish and near-unconscious on the ground, he’d seen the look on her face as her body fell. Her smile of relief punctured with some sick mix of shock and horror.

“She’s okay,” Foster says, and glances out the private room’s exit. “Darren’s with her.”

That’s all it takes for Harrison to move. He rips off the catheter in his nose, peeling up the tape securing several tubes to the back of his hands.

“Hey—” “Don’t get in my way,” Harrison growls when Foster goes to herd him back into the cot.

“You’re not well—”

Harrison yanks all the wiring knotted around his body so harshly that one of the monitors checking his vitals appears to shut down.

“Does this look like the work of an unwell man?”

(LEGENDARY DIALOGUE HARRISON ^^)

We ALSO get Harrison going beast mode and calling Foster by his actual name LOL:

“Get out of my way, August,” Harrison nearly shouts. If Reeve is in this infirmary, alone with a man who sure, cares about her, but that isn’t him, he will damn well get to her.

And of course, he's back to wanting to kill Lonan:

Harrison crosses his arms. “I’m going to find Reeve. And then I’m going to kill Lonan.”

It’s the first time he’s said the words aloud, the words that’ve hummed in his body since he awoke. Kill Lonan.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I don’t need your permission.”

At this point, no one actually knows Lonan did this unintentionally because he's been unable to tell them because someone may or may not be trying to kill him as we speak!

And strangely, Harrison also has matching markings on his palms like the one Reeve has on her chest:

When his palms are naked again, he doesn’t even question the black solar markings in the centre of each palm—nothing matters. Lonan cannot die. “Hey,” Harrison says, hands trembling even harder now as he tugs the hem of Lonan’s shirt upward to reveal the wound, likely pierced through, or close to his heart. Lonan’s mouth hangs open, like he’s trying to say something, but Harrison won’t let him. No goodbyes.

(not me just leaving this excerpt here as if this isn't going to open up a whole bunch more question LOOOL I'm evil and also willing to talk more <3)

Eventually, when everything settles down, Harrison confronts Lonan about what the actual fuck happened that night he "killed" Reeve:

“One of the first things I told you was not to look for me. Why did you?”

Harrison laughs. He doesn’t think. He’s not even sure what it means—if he’s genuinely amused, or if he’s shocked, or if he’s angry. “Why wouldn’t I look for you?”

“I told you not to.”

When Harrison laughs again, he’s absolutely sure why—exasperation ripples off his body. “You were haunting my dreams to the point where I couldn’t sleep. Your sister begged me to help find you. And besides, you found us.”

“But you shouldn’t have saved me. You should’ve left. It would’ve been best—”

“Are you telling me I should’ve let you die? Forget you for a second—what about Reeve? She should’ve died too?”

Lonan looks over to him—Harrison feels his gaze on his face, but now he’s looking at his hands, trying to force them to still with his mind. He’s not angry. Lonan is not ungrateful. He’s not angry. Lonan is not ungrateful.

“Harrison,” Lonan says after a moment. “My family is dangerous. I wanted to keep you as far from this as I could—”

“But you didn’t,” Harrison says, his voice breaking. “You gave me half your power. You knew they would look for me if you took what made you useful and gave it to me. And you did it anyway. You put a target on my back.”

“That target was always on your back. From the moment you were born it was on your back. I needed to be certain you could keep yourself safe when something happened. Not if.”

“Safe?” Harrison almost shouts. Out of everything he’s considered himself in the whirlwind of the last few weeks, safe was the absolute last one. And the absurdity of this implication, as if Harrison would even understand how to use his own magic to keep himself safe. He’s somehow managed to keep himself alive and burned himself on a fork—Lonan didn’t gift him his powers and a manual to use them. Safe. Impulsively, he yanks his hands from his pocket, splaying open his fingers to reveal his palm and the black sunrays tattooed onto the centre. “This is what you’ve done to me, Lonan. This is what you’ve done to Reeve.”

Lonan’s brows perk up, and now he’s trying very hard to catch Harrison’s gaze. “What is this about Reeve?”

(For context on the "what about Reeve" dialogue--since Lonan is the Virtue, if he dies, which is impossible since he's immortal but... almost happened lol, his whooooole family dies with him. Also: "burned himself on a fork" I'm crying LOL)

From this excerpt, we can tell Lonan clearly has no idea what happened and what he did to Reeve (accurate to the OG books). This may or may not lead to a nervous breakdown.......... oops!

Anyway so that's the explanation!

I love spoiling SV. Always happy to talk about it!

#tw death #asks #seventhvirtue #i actually wasn't going to share this info because I was like #what if I want to publish this #and then I realized I never in my life want to publish Fostered to be consumable as a Book #sorry but they're mine! LOL allll mine!#so happy to answer all spoilery questions! <3

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simpofmanymen · 2 years

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Slasher male y/n

if you're reading a slasher thing I hope you're are ready for murder tw lol

in first person bc i felt like it

it's really fast-paced (my bubba one was written later on so more detailed ig)

this will be build-up for what slasher lover path you pick

your a cannibal so- ya

before this is you were caught and put with Lil Mikey man

After the break out with Micheal and got snacks (his victims) I told Micheal I had to leave because I didn't want to get caught, he’s using sign language to sign "till we meet again" I nod and run off, after a year I find new friends and get told that they got a gig at the Crystal lake reopening, I say I'd like to as well, next thing I know I'm the only one taking care of the children as the rest are off making out or making fun of some kids- later jason kills all the camp counselors and had me running in the woods away from him I finally trip and back up into a tree he drops his machete and signs "I'm not going to hurt you", back to present jason tells me there's a slasher meet up and tells me to get ready, he goes on without me as I say I need a snack (I kill someone and FEAST) when I get there I'm bloody and everyone's staring at me when I walk in "am I that sexy- damn I knew this was too much" (party goes on from there)

The Brahms path

Later on, I tell Jason I need money so I'm going to try to get a babysitter job, I find one online and when I get there it's a doll- ok- then I realized wait- the doll's name is Brahms 👀 after the people leave I start knocking on the walls tell Brahms he can come out now- he doesn't 🙄, so I just do the job as they said later- my- my ex- from when I ran away found me? He kinda picks up the doll-like "ok cool" I say "put it down please and get out" he starts getting pissed and I finally get them to start to leave but before he does he throws the doll on the ground * the whole Brahms reveal happens* Brahms kills my ex then looks at me "Brahms" I kinda giggle he gets up *does the forehead scene* "why are you-" he lifts my chin and kisses me with the mask I kiss back "have you been stalking me?" I smirk "I don't like the word stalking," a raspy voice says (in my head: wow) I kinda melt at this and yawn "I've been waiting for you to come out why didn't you?" He sighs signaling he doesn't want to answer. I nod and then say "bed?" "Yes" we go to bed but before I could go he grabs my hand I look back "stay"

I roll my eyes then get in bed "kiss?" "Ok ok" I give a quick kiss on his mask but before I could lay down he says "no real kiss" and lifts his mask I let go of the kiss- "ok ok bedtime now"

BUBBA PATH <3 <3 <3

((He didn't go to the party bc no one invited him 🥺))

Later I meet more friends (yay) and we go down to Texas to have a vacation- (Idk either) we run out of gas at (insert any name)s old house we all split up to ask someone close for gas I then find the sheriff who tells me his name and how we could all stay with his family tell we get gas a to thank him and he rides me to the house and I tell my friends the situation, they hop in as well and we all walk in and get welcomed by miss Sawyer who tells us we can call her maw we all thank them again and a bigger man walks out with a mask on. My friend kinda gets scared and asks something to "maw" and you could tell it was something a little disrespectful. Dayton pulls them out of the room. I walk to the bigger man and introduced myself "hi I'm y/n, y/n l/n, what's your name" I smile you could tell he was taken aback by this and tried to sign "Thomas" I understood him still and repeated "Thomas, that's a sweet name" I smile again and he waves to walk off to Dayton I sit down next to maw and have a chat with her "your son seems very sweet, does he talk? If not I could help teach sign language to you guys and him I have many friends who don't talk" I say to her "oh he talks but so far only us family has heard his angel voice, and if he did learn sign language it wouldn't help much, he doesn't speak to the outside much with that disability of his" "I see. he has subjective talking if it's not of any hurt may I ask why he seemed so taken aback by me asking his name?" I question. "You smiled at him Darlin, not many people smile at him because of the way he looks… they don't give the inside a chance" I look at her sympathetically and sit in silence wait for the rest of my friends, they don't come back and I finally realized what's going on "so did you guys kill my "friends" or something it's fine if so.." I pause "just kinda wish people would stop killing all the friend groups I have had this happen at least three times now" they all look at me in surprise and Drayton starts to say "how did you know-" "like I just said- this has happened at least three times if you did, I'd like to ask what my friend said to trigger this or did you kill for another reason?" I ask "she said "what’s that retared doing with a mask on like that-" I gasp and start to tear a tiny bit "I knew these guys were assholes but… god… for your information I would never talk about anyone that way that's ignorant and disgusting" maw begins to speak "I could tell babe you are a sweet young man and we'd like for you to stay for dinner.. maybe to make up for this" "of course"

✕Time skip✕

We all sit down and say grace. I'm not a big religious person but I thought it was sweet. We all begin to eat and I ask "what type of meat is this? It's delicious." "Well… it's your friends" I look up for a second and think of what to say "ya know- after dinner would you guys like to hear my life story.. well the interesting parts… I feel like it would explain to you why I'm so calm about this.. I feel bad" they all say "yes" in unison well… Thomas tries to sign it but fails-

✕time skip✕

I explain to them everything and maw pulls me out of the room after and explains that originally I was going to be Thomas's "pet" because he thinks I’m "purty". I blush slightly and say "can I still do it?" Nervously and she laughs "yes yes yes now go talk to him and tell him you want to it will boost his confidence" I walk up to him nervously and blushing, I tell him I think he's handsome and I herd he wanted me as a "pet", you could tell he's blushing under his skin mask and I say I'd like that actually… he picks me up bridal and brings me to his room

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sarah-dipitous · 10 months

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 196

Road Trip/Cold War

“Road Trip”

Plot Description: Gadreel is still in control of Sam’s body while on a murder spree for Metatron, but Dean, Castiel, and Crowley have plans for an angel eviction

Before I even start…THAT’S how they decided to spell that angel’s name?? After all the -iel names they throw in there -eel??? Really??? ANYWAY

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: IM BARELY SURVIVING WATCHING DEAN GIVE KEVIN A HUNTER’S BURIAL AND WRESTLE WITH THE GUILT OF BEING AT LEAST PARTIALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS LIFE GOING TO SHIT AND EVENTUAL DEATH AT NO MORE THAN 18 YEARS OLD

Is…is this angel turned rockstar for real when he calls another angel Gadreel’s boyfriend (who presumably died) or is this just normal supernatural?

God…he’s carrying so much guilt over all of this and Cas is like the only person who can really understand how being “stupid for the right reason” feels now

Crowley does seem genuinely sad about Kevin’s death. Not OVERLY sad, he’s not going to actually show the emotion, but still

Omg you’re hitting so many of Dean’s pain points right now, babes, and you don’t even know it

You know, I was thinking earlier today about Cas’s humanity, how good he’s gotten at being human. How last time we saw him, he was so happy and proud of getting to do the hunting job and grabbing a round of beers for them all…and then he tells Dean and Crowley he has a car that stopped inexplicably…because it ran out of gas

Omg the way they’re acting both like exes and siblings…there’s a glee for both of them that the other has to sit in the back seat but then the bickering over space

Why would there be no more prophets?? Crowley had a whole room of next-in-line-prophets when he couldn’t find Kevin

Metatron, I know you’ve been away from heaven for a long time, but angels are order followers, not really ones for taking initiative. Forgive him if he didn’t kill Dean just yet

OH, the woman with the dog was a demon?? Do we get to see Abaddon again??

Cas is so determined to hate Crowley and voice that hate at every given opportunity. We stan a petty bitch

I’m terrified for this angel, Abner. He just wants to live a normal life, make this family’s life better…aaaaaaand he’s dead. He shouldn’t have talked about never letting go of something you want no matter the price because there’s always a price

Cecily, girl, that talk works with Crowley because he’s in handcuffs and understands conniving…Abaddon’s not like that. You’re loyal to her or you’re dead

Ah yes, JPad’s acting skills………they’re not great.

“So you’re saying we’re both a couple of dumbasses?” “I prefer the word trusting. Less dumb, less ass” 💖

HOW POWERFUL IS THIS ANGEL??

Man, when you say trusting…………you’re about to let Crowley possess him?? Oooooo Crowley has a fun red demon soul! Did I know that already? I feel like I didn’t

I will say that JPad CAN play wounded puppy pretty well. But that comes with the practice of playing a character who’s body has done a lot that his normal mind wouldn’t allow

Nah, Gadreel, you’re still a chump working for Metatron

Is this the turning point for the Winchesters and Crowley? Maybe not fully “I see you again—“ “yes, I’m dead. I love you, too. Now go”

Yes, we’re going to appreciate her again 💖💖💖

Sammy’s back!

The boys are fighting over who gets blame over Kevin’s death…omg Dean, I knew this would happen because you’ve had everything crumble around you so many times but I promise it’s not that you’re poison

Jesus, Sam…..stop him. Stop him NOW. Don’t let him LEAVE. FUCK.

“Cold War”

Plot Description: On a Russian submarine in 1983, a frozen alien warrior is waking up

I can stand by the explanation that the TARDIS will translate alien speech into English, and even with some sort of accent from that group of islands…but the TARDIS ISN’T ON THIS RUSSIAN SUBMARINE WHY ARE THEY SPEAKING ENGLISH IN SOME SORT OF BRITISH ACCENT?? (I know the answer, but…come on)

This guys being a complete idiot in the pursuit of science. Maybe DON’T WAKE UP AND THAW OUT THE ALIEN YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT WHILE IN A SUBMERGED SUBMARINE!!! Like…???

Like you are SO LUCKY the TARDIS has decided this is where the Doctor needs to be now

Yeah, middle of a crisis like this IS the best time to not have to go through the pretense of who you pretend to be upon arriving somewhere

He is MARVELING at this ice warrior. Til they told the Doctor their name.

Oh good. He got electrocuted because a human got scared. SURELY there will be no repercussions for that

Is that Stannis Baratheon?? No…more insufferable, Edmure Tully

I took a break to look up the actors imdb pages…the number of them that have been in GoT or The Crown or BOTH?! It’s basically everyone but Jenna…who somehow doesn’t have this show in her “known for” section but DOES have the first captain america movie…just, if you were wondering

OH! I remembered! The professor on this vessel was in Titanic!! He played Cal’s manservant

How…long are these aliens’ lifespans? Does he think the ice warriors he knew are still alive? Are we gonna have to take him to whatever the Mars equivalent of the southern air temple is? Though, I fear what would happen if he found out what may or may not have happened to his people, he’s not as peaceful as aang

Poor Doc has to explain everything to everyone and there’s apparently not time to do that but he still has to and IS doing it

Ok…maybe we don’t completely blame Davos Seaworth for what the junior science guy did. That wasn’t an order he gave

Oof. You took the words right out of my mouth, Skaldak has nothing to lose now that he thinks he’s been abandoned

Stop saying how bad can it be! I barely even saw the onceler fandom but I’m getting flashbacks anyway

Ok but don’t say it couldn’t get any worse either…you’re just INVITING worse

Byyyyyyyye Edmure. I didn’t bother learning your name because you were marked for death from the beginning by being incredulous.

He’s so much nicer on this sinking/sunken ship than he was in Titanic. He’s singing Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran to keep spirits up

We’re in a sequence where Skaldak is picking off the crew one by one……but I’m getting suspicious of the professor. I don’t know that I should be, but that doesn’t change that I am. Omg…he just wants to know if his favorite bands split up. He just wants to know the most mundane stuff 🥺

I’m not condoning him wanting to kill off humanity before I’m even born, but “there will be a second red planet, red with the blood of humanity” is a BANGER line

It’s the way humans are perpetually children to all these alien beings…I dunno how I feel about it

What in the deus ex machina?? The ice warrior were still alive and rescued Skaldak….and then the world was saved by Clara singing Hungry Like the Wolf. Sure. Why not?

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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moonrisecalamityretreat · 1 year

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i prommy i won't mistrial this one guys || loic || trial 6.1 || re: hanji

Loic Archambeault was getting real sick and fucking tired of getting knocked out with sleeping gas and waking up in some place he didn’t recognize. The hissing noise came, and he immediately made his way to Maxime’s side, trying to find Yuriko in the few moments they had before unconsciousness took them down under. Even if he’s sure that they’ll be fine as they always are after they get knocked out, he doesn’t want to take any chances.

As he pushes himself up again, he lets himself have a moment of relief when he sees Angeline and Diabelle are both alright. Sue him, okay? They were his best friends in that airship once Yuriko left after the mistrial, can you blame him for being concerned when they just up and vanished? Still, it figures they want them to do one last trial in order to…

“Hold on a second, please.”

Before he can bring himself to comment on the case itself--which he will do, just give him a second--he has to comment on some other things.

“You…brought us here. To do a trial. So that The Shepherd could have….a cool reveal? Why the hell should we humor you? Or them? With that? I just--don’t see why. Other than you’ve kidnapped us. Again.”

He looks over at Hanji with a very unimpressed expression.

“They better fire you after this, by the way. Seriously, there aren’t even that many of us anymore, your whole group was outside, you were on high alert, we knew that there were cultists still in the facility after that attack, and you still let us get kidnapped. Some agent you are but whatever.”

You can very much hear him roll his eyes at the end there, but he reins himself in after that one comment and makes his way to his seat next to Maxime, still muttering under his breath. He, much to his chagrin, shouldn’t spend the entire trial being a hater, but god does he want to after this pathetic showing. Still, they have a murder to solve, and he refuses to let himself screw it up this time. His first friend’s brutal murder won’t go unpunished any more.

“We were actually given a 'timeline' of the crime before the airship was crashed. I think I showed it to Maxime and Yuriko, but, well, it’s in the group chat now, so. Either way, it--it wasn’t…super illuminating?

But, uh, it’s essentially a series of images with circles with numbers. We were all given subject numbers, so I assume they correspond to the numbers in the images. We can confirm using the numbers that--Well, you see 14 run off to the top, so I assume those are the dining hall doors. Then, 11 is alone. Someone labeled 3 enters from where 14 ran off to.”

It’s either talk about the images that they were given or bring up the recordings of the murders, which might lead to some revelations he’s trying to keep quiet for as long as he can. AKA he doesn’t want Maxime to know everyone super saw him bludgeon a woman to death. Awkward.

“I guess it goes without saying that 14 is probably Reimi and 11 is Haku.”

With that, he falls into a bout of thought.

#ch6 #luca

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the-firebird69 · 1 year

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Watch "Hulk (2003) - Opening Scene (HD)" on YouTube

youtube

And ends up murdering her yes. And it was the past and it is what happened but you don't understand why he ended up doing it it's because she did not want to leave and would not let him leave and you don't understand that she was on drugs and he knew about it he grabbed her and screw in the trunk that's what happened. It says this what's so urgent it's not a radiation overload they're going to detonate a bomb and it will be a radioactive bomb and they want to blame it on you it doesn't work but you can't really talk about it especially over the next few days and he goes so he moved to move his people out and we wear and they're talking about it and he went to his and told them and he escaped and she got revived and they're a little bit of radiated but not much it's cuz they're taking medicine and had radiation and I couldn't sick so they start laughing it would be a little better at it and they followed it but if you look at the houses when he's driving the car it's the same roof and it's pretty much the same size it's been trimmed down a little and on a certain side of the house and we say it's the back because it is and that makes the roofs look square and really not as steeper on the back it's hard to tell it looks weird. And these are wood frame walls but radiation doesn't stay in if there's even a little infiltration it's more like a gas it does go into objects and sits there for a long time but the half-life of radiation from a bomb is only about 15 years and recently found out that it takes only about 10 years or less and mostly everything is not radiated again the only thing that stays in or things that are made out of like pure carbon and we'll still his house is removed and replaced except for the stove and the overhead fan and those are not radioactive anymore for some reason it's really usually are a little hot but red practically nothing I wonder why and we tested one when you heat it up it gets a little radioactive but not a gas and it goes down it's not heated up for 20 times in the radiation is gone permanently but has to hit up very hot this doesn't have any left in it and it didn't before next door there might be a little but not much but your irradiated food and your food and getting sick. But Dave and Trump have new ones cuz they do but and I think that he's getting sick from it but his is clear for the most part really that's always going to be some it's not much and boiling stuff with salt and stuff makes it so it doesn't do anything are you cook it in the stove and it might be a radiator though that really what he's white riding the bicycle around to get some more radiation then he would from cooking in the stove all year now but maybe for a month. Just right one day and that's what it is and he wanted to show you and we did too is looking at it and he was horrified and she said it I didn't say anything try to get him out of there

In those apartments were ready to the nuclear plants at Hiroshima and there's some left no but things are falling apart all the time and the woods week it's a piece of junk and it's historical monument that they keep mangling and we want them to stop and it is morlock

What this means is that you guys are being messed around with and still it also means that you're messing around with people back in a way that's kind of weird and that really productive and you're being messed around with by Tommy f and some foreigners and it's horrible this is probably the worst I've seen you put them in this place and it's not that great and is not getting a radiated even by the stove and stuff and really that thing's for you abbreviation it's been years many years of use 40 years old 50 years or he says so much it's a lot more almost 80 or 90 years or something of being on full blast and it's cooked out and there's some items in there that might be but it's rebar and things like that and mostly it's deteriorated but the house is not extremely strong although it was built by his plan and it won't come apart it's only rated for like 200 mph winds and they're a couple guts there and it will wear some everybody wants him out now

Thor Freya

We're up in arms about it and we want them out and we knew about it and wanted him out then and just saying stuff with it all the time and it's coded and it's both Max and warlock and it's because of Tommy f and it's going on all the time and that guy is a menace

Frank Castle hardcastle

Were gonna nuke Tommy f you're such a jerk and you're losing and getting puddled by these people that you've been on all the time. They also know he has resistance but there's no radiation in the house it's 15 years ago now 75 years ago now it's more than that. It's the code really and it's the stigma and more things like that and you keep doing it to him and you're going to pay and these people wanting to pay too and the more like you're thinking of code out right now and yeah it was Trump and his son and his wife and daughter and he killed them both and put them in the car and just grabs the Sun. He's leaving crying Austin he said you're a suspects in a murder case he has mouth tape s*** he revived them he showed him it's a bomb and saved you from a bomb I didn't tell her to do that but he had to but she didn't want you to die this is what the hell it's so easy it goes over there it's going to die from radiation and I said it's like this as president everywhere and I said oh like a cloud such a special cloud very far miles and miles and yes it's a chemical reaction and he was working on trying to get resistance to radiation exposure because that's what they wanted him to do before you died or not and to blame him for what happens is this overloads of machines which doesn't really do anything and they skipped it though they accidentally said it's supposed to but it doesn't really it's like containment is not an explosion it's called the Trinity test you can't talk about it until you hear about Japan. And they were free from it after and they said this is terrible and it's really really actually top secret you know people know who I am. They went around for years knowing he saved him and now they can't help but to do it and finally figured it out and he can't stop it and he needs to go to the matrix and they don't seem to want to

Thor Freya

#Youtube

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nataliesnews · 1 year

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Hawarra and the demonstration which did not get there 3.3.2023

More about Hawarra....a better description than I gave of what happened there and also the larger and less successful demonstration yesterday. Read what I underlined. What can one call a statement as this soldier made....does he really think we are so stupid as to believe it?

Written by someone who was with me. I find it very hard sometimes to hear what is being said and this was what I missed

I'm coming back from a hard day in Hvar. The army punishes the victims of the pogrom. All the shops in the village were forcibly closed, even those that were burned, and soldiers patrol the main street to make sure that no one opens their business. Whoever dares to open is arrested. This morning I was standing in front of a small store called "Naji Air Conditioners", next to the skeleton of a burnt car. It's like that in every corner of Hvar, piles of broken glass, and a terrible crackling noise coming from the shoes wherever you step. The shop owner, a young man, raised the shutter. He has not entered it since the pogrom. In a moment, six soldiers approached him, forcing him to close. Then they arrested him. I asked them why, and they said: "Because they are not allowed to work, it is illegal at the moment." He was placed on the sidewalk, then led to an abandoned building. I followed them and stood near the door. The guy said he forgot his inhaler at the store. One soldier went to get him and another soldier asked him if there was ever someone in his family who committed an attack. While I'm waiting there, I called a senior person in the military who is familiar with the details of this policy. Here is a transcript of his words: "After the Jewish terrorism in Hawara, we thought that one of the things that would calm the area was to close the shops. Mainly to protect the Palestinian residents. As hard as it is, our goal is to protect them. Because if the shops are open, then there will be even more riots, and Jews will go down to the village." I asked: "And isn't it possible to arrest the rioters themselves? Instead of further harming the victims of the rioters." And he said: "That's right. That's why we only do it for a few days. We didn't want to do it." The air conditioner guy was released after an hour. I saw how several Palestinians were detained in this way in the last few days in Hawara. A guy named Omar, who opened his garage, was arrested and detained until the night. Near the air conditioner store, two old men from the village, with Palestinian flags, stood and shouted in a hoarse voice: "Go to the streets, residents of Hawara, open the shops." Soldiers surrounded them. One vehicle honked to encourage, but most of the vehicles passed indifferently. I talked to the soldiers there. One said he was angry that the UN came to Hawara yesterday, and the representative was only interested in the pogrom, but not in the attack. The second said he could understand the Jews' desire to take revenge for the murder. And the third was silent. When the other two left, he said to me: "Brother, I'm dying to fly out of here already." There is a Palestinian photographer who managed to document part of the pogrom. I met him today. In his videos, you can clearly see how dozens of settlers went through, house by house, in the heart of the village, and simply burned it, when many soldiers stood with them. for hours. In some cases, tear gas and shocks were thrown at families who tried to defend themselves with stones, according to at least eight eyewitnesses. Contrary to the common framing in the media, to my understanding, the pogrom took place under the auspices of IDF soldiers. I want to tell you about one woman, an elderly woman, about seventy years old. Noel is her name. Her story doesn't make sense to me. How they tried to burn down her house. "I was with my daughters," she said today, her face scrunched up, it's obvious that she hasn't slept in days, "Settlers burned everything outside, fire rose from the window, and smoke spread throughout the apartment. Stones also entered from everywhere. My face was burning. It was so hot. The girls screamed in pain, tear gas started coming in and we didn't know what to do. My daughter went crazy. We heard banging on the door, it's them trying to enter. I took the gas cylinder into the living room, so it wouldn't explode. I only cared about the girls, not myself." Then she stopped. And with a trembling finger, she signaled something to her daughter, who came closer, and poured her a glass of water. Then poured me. "Look at how much coal," Noel murmured, looking at the wall behind: "Sorry for the dirt in the house. My whole body is full of this black. It won't come off." She dusted off the dress she was wearing, and hid her legs behind her. She and her daughters were imprisoned inside, inside their house, for three days. They were rescued only yesterday. "The door didn't open and the key melted inside," Noel said, "They burned the electricity outside. And I didn't have a phone with a battery, and there was no way to charge it." She lives on the third floor, on the main street. Her building is all black with soot. Luckily her apartment didn't burn down. On their balcony, the one facing the street, I counted 149 stones, rocks, and fragments of pavements, which settlers threw at the house. "At first I called to the people, from the balcony, to get us out, but they didn't hear from below. And I ran out of strength. My daughter kept telling me to go home, she was afraid that the settlers might pass and come back, that they would attack us again." They drank from a water tank on the roof, but the refrigerator was destroyed without electricity. After three days the eldest son returned from Dubai, broke the door, and found them. I heard other testimonies, no less shocking. A nine-year-old girl, Lamar, who hid her little brother under the bed. Uday found his grandmother in the living room unconscious, convulsing, her eyes white, while settlers set fire to a nearby bedroom. Raid, who locked his two children in the bathroom, and covered the window with tape, so they wouldn't suffocate to death. Dozens injured. One kill. But this post is already too long. I just want to say that the important protest in the streets these days must also deal with the occupation. When a military regime is imposed on millions of subjects without rights, for decades, the people move to the right. And this is not a democracy. There is no democracy only for Jews. Protest about it. The right does not divide. It's the same story. Our freedom involves their freedom. Yuval Abraham Anyhow yesterday there were 8 buses and many private cars. 500 people. The army had already informed us we would not be allowed in to the village. Of course not. And believe me it was one thing to read about it and see pictures or th tv. It is different when you see and smell with your own eyes and ears and are face to face with the survivors. And that is what they are. Because the settlers know they can maim and kill and nothing will happen to them. They are arrested on revolving doors.

We were stopped a long way from the village and eveyone started walking down. I wanted to walk with them but after a while people insisted I get into one of the cars of the Palestinians who had come to take anyone for whom the walking was hard and I must admit that when I saw how far it was, I realised I would only have been a nuisance. But after a while I saw soldiers in groups waiting and said to the driver he should stop as it was obvious that they were there to stop the marchers. Demonstration smart. And I was right.

What happened then was that people climbed down into the wadi to try to get to the village that way. Then it became violent. I was not near there as I could not climb down. I find it so frustrating. But I know that I can only be a burden if I did insist on getting down. I could see an elderly man I know from Sheikh Jarrah who was pushed and knocked down by the soldiers. The soldiers were trying to stop people getting to the village through the fields and used tear gas. But even when the people turned back they continued throwing cannisters. Probably trying to make their aim even better for next time.

-And another friend wrote : The attempt by violent and rude Kalgesi police officers to arrest me in the olive groves near Hawara. The reasoning of the leading Klags was that I cursed him... The truth: I demanded that he stop pushing an older woman and I said: "Leave her alone, she could be your grandmother"... Fortunately, a militia officer who approached the incident, and realized that there was no basis for arrest, asked/demanded that I be released... Severe violence was used by the occupation militias against many of the friends who simply wanted to express their sympathy with the residents of Hawara after the pogrom that the occupation militias allowed to wreak havoc in the town. And only one soldier came up to me, after I addressed him and his friends, and I shared with them what I thought about what happened in Hawara on Sunday, emphasizing the terrible failure of the occupation forces, and said to me: "I wanted you to know that I have not been able to close my eyes since Sunday"...a gram of comfort.

#Leibovitz_was right-

I was too tired to go to Sheikh Jarrah when I came back and also had a birthday party in the evening.My friend, Karin, held it in the Taboon which is a small restaurant in the Old City which was attacked by settlers a few weeks ago.

Oh and one refugee was found who was taken back to find a good home in Israel. I saw the poor little thing running down below in the wadi ....I found that no one knew who the owner was and the poor little puppy was evidently terrified by the explosion of the cannisters. Later I saw this lady with her in her arms.

There is balm of Gilead

But not for this woman and others like her who came to the area of the Knesset dressed as handmaids

The forces of Gilead are beginning trying to keep women in their place

At some time I will sit down to write about Dubai which seems light years away now/.

Hawarra and the demonstration which did not get there 3.3.2023

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