#Israhell will fall | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-splash-of-realitea · 4 months

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There is no such thing as unbiased reporting. Not only check your sources but check where they’re getting their info from and the other kinds of things they’re saying. Even if you trust your source because you’ve gotten it from a friend or youve seen it a lot check it. EVEN IF YOU AGREE WITH WHAT A SOURCE IS SAYING, CHECK WHO IT’S FROM. The next time I see a link that’s supposed to support palestine and click it and scroll for two seconds and see something like ‘down with Israhell’ (that phrase has been a right-wing antisemitic dogwhistle for many many years) I’m going to explode. We can protest human rights violations and push for peace without spreading misinformation or propaganda.

Please keep in mind that if you just started paying attention to Palestine on October 7th, propaganda and misinformation pre-dates your interest in this. Jews have been in what is now Palestine for thousands of years, and the current clusterfuck dates back much farther than 1948. If you think there is nothing complicated, that there is no nuance in the current conflict, you don’t know enough about it. You can (and should) condemn the IDF’s human rights violations and condemn that warmongering idiot Netanyahu and support liberation of Palestinians and protest the occupation of the West Bank and apartheid and all the horrendous things happening there WITHOUT spreading easily disproven falsehoods about Hamas or falling for old shitty propaganda that uses Zionist as a code word for ‘Jew’. If you feel the need to post about the situation in Palestine beyond the obviously good and necessary calls for humanitarian aid, pleeease do just a little reading up on it first. Even just a little. Read at least the Wikipedia page on the war of 1948, AKA the Nakba (the whole article, if you don’t branch out to other sources; Israel and Palestine have different narratives about it, as you might expect). Read the Hamas charter of 1988 and the revised one of 2017 where they changed their language to be more palatable to international support, notice what they leave out of the more recent version, how they claim indigineity solely for themselves while implicitly denying it to Arab Jews who have inhabited that land for thousands of years, how in the newer version they call Israel ‘the Zionist project’ and erase the fact of the British colonial experiment that got us into this mess and lay all the blame at the feet of Israel. Horrible shit Israel is doing is just as important, but given you’re on tumblr, I assume you already know all about that. Just make room in your mind for multiple truths: that Israel is committing horrific human rights abuses with a tremendous disregard for civilian lives; that the Palestinian people are suffering and in desperate need of humanitarian aid; that Hamas is a right wing extremist organization whose leaders proudly say they will repeat October 7th over and over, and who call their own citizens martyrs to their cause after using them as shields. Hamas is not Palestine, Netanyahu is not Israel, and you are not immune to propaganda.

#first and last time I post about current events #if anyone twists this into Islamophobia or antisemitism I’ll also explode #both are hugely on the rise and a huge reason for that is uncritical swallowing of propaganda #just. think about what you post. this is a public platform.#yes I am more emotional about this than would be politically useful #my family was threatened so. I’m upset.#anyway I’ll never talk about this again I hope #might chicken out and delete this anyway #anyway. explodes

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heavymetalvi · 2 months

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Israel: has existed as a concept for over 3000 years and is older than the Roman empire

Antisemites using the newest war to be bigots: IsRaHeLl.

Look. We all have beef with certain nations across the globe (looking at you, England and France. Taught the US and Canada how to colonize and forget to take the blame for making us the countries we are? Shame on y'both). Every country has a reason to be considered shitty. That doesn't mean we get to be shitty people when we talk about the pain caused by said countries. May we root for peace and safety in the region and not fall for rooting for our favorite team. And may Netanyahu stop bombing Palestine and allow it to live

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disco-cola · 6 months

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have seen such heavy images and videos again in the last hours… of people and of animals in gaza… it’s sucking all my energy, i have no capacity to think about anything else. I haven’t practiced guitar in days. I don’t listen to music anymore. Every bite I eat of my dinner I wish I could give to them instead. I am emotionally and physically drained yes, but I will not stop exposing myself even tho some people dont understand why I just dont stop looking at this footage if it causes me to feel this awful. I am emotionally and physically drained of genocide, of oppression and apartheid, on top of that being funded by the country i am living in. My country‘s government standing with israhell imposing this onto the people of gaza/palestine. I’m also tired of the apathy and silence of some of those I thought were good people. I‘ve waited all year for fall and christmas time bc it’s my favorite time of the year. I can’t enjoy an ounce of it until there’s a permanent ceasefire and repercussions and punishment, and I swear if this ends in Gaza actually being even more controlled and invaded by those I don’t even wanna name anymore… i will stop believing in humanity.

#im also on the verge of crying constantly

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summerlycoris · 2 months

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I wish i could just fall in line about the israel/palestine conflict (because while its called a war, it cant be if one side only has a militia at best)

Just. Fall in line with the most extreme pro-pal arguments-

'fuck israhell! They all need to be shipped back to europe!' (Half the population was expelled or migrated from mena countries, fleeing persecution in places like Yeman and Syria. And the people who were born there? Where would you send them? If they have german ancestors, but speak no german, as an example.)

'They deserve to die for the genocide of Gaza.' (Do you also believe Russians should die because of Putins war on Ukraine? Israel has 7 million jewish people living there. Out of a global population of 15 million. Thats over half of a small population. That death toll would be higher than the jewish victims of the holocaust.)

'Why are you distracting yourself from the real deaths happening in Palestine right now?' (Valid point. I dont like to just look at the here and now. I try to consider how my actions affect the future. Its not perfect, and I think its just pointless ruminating more than anything. But I do try to consider the future.)

Its just. If i could turn my brain off and go with the flow, Id be happier. Id thought for ages i couldnt be affected by peer pressure like neurotypicals can. But this is proving me wrong.

Im so tired. Of trying to think about what im doing. I wanna just be numb to nuance. Black and white thinking would be easier. All Israelis are evil, there is nobody there begging for peace.

(Itd be easier if i could believe that.)

This situation has got me questioning- how much of my earlier beliefs were really mine? And how much was just me passively taking in what people i trusted told me?

Can we get a ceasefire yet? Please?

I dont want to see more people getting blown up or shot or starving. I dont want to see Shani Louks corpse in the ute when I try to go to sleep. I dont want to see Hind when I look at my sister. Hear her cousin screaming as shes shot. Hear Hind begging for someone, anyone, to come take her. See dead babies in tiny bags. See more misinformation spread without regard for who it targets, or hurts. I dont want to try to find news articles that arent inflammatory. I dont want to see people burning themselves alive. I dont want to feel guilty for not being able to donate more money to gofundmes, and fundraisers. I dont want to see people I trusted posting blood libel anymore. Or revisionism. Or warmongering. Havent you (general you) seen enough blood for a lifetime?!?!

It seems to me that everything is spiraling completely out of control. And theres nothing I can do to stop it.

#summerly talks #i havent slept much last night. these thoughts kept rumbling through my head #i want to. write stuff that isnt this #but my brain is caught in a loop and i cant shut it down yet ffs

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lesbianmeka · 3 months

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god i can't stop thinking about how terrified Hind must have been. i don't even know what to say. its just so fucking evil and it's not fucking fair. she should have never been in that situation. she should still be alive. the 30000+ Palestinian martyrs should still be alive. we will never forgive and we will never forget. israhell will fall and Palestine will be liberated! We are not free until Palestine is free! From the river to the sea! Palestine will be free!

#tay.txt

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girlactionfigure · 3 years

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"Once upon a time, when the earth was young and dinosaurs were roaming around, the Arab palestinosaurus would fight the occupation by the evil Zionist settlers.

Then 2,000 years ago, the Arab Muslim Palestinians would fight Roman occupation and evil Zionist settlers.

In the Middle Ages, the Palestinians would fight the Crusaders and evil Zionist settlers........."

The non-existent history of a Palestinian state

In the beginning of the 20th century, the Arab Muslim Palestinians would fight against Turkish Ottoman occupation of Palestine, who has been an independent existing country for millions of years and was occupied by evil Zionist settlers.

Then came the British who invaded the state of Palestine, which has existed for millions of years, and introduced in it, evil Zionist settlers.

If all that was not enough, the evil Zionist settlers chased the British occupying the state of Palestine and turned it into ISRAHELL, displacing tens of millions of Palestinians who had lived there peacefully and unoccupied for millions of years, by doing so, stealing the land of Palestine.

Those evil Zionist settlers were an alien race from the region of the Ukraine named Khazaria, who pretended to be Jewish and converted to the religion at the end of the 8th century after Jesus.

They then travelled BACK IN TIME to kill Jesus and occupy the state of Palestine.

If the narrative I just did makes absolutely ZERO sense to you, have no fear, it’s not because you have cognitive dissonance.

It’s because it is really that convoluted and yet, millions around the world who daily bash Israel believe such a dimwitted fairytale.

I am not Christian, the use of the example of Jesus is just to highlight the inconsistencies, not to talk about outright contradictions, Israel haters believe in without their head exploding.

On the one hand they say you Jews killed Jesus, but on the other they say we descend from a tribe that converted to Judaism in the 8th century.

Unless we figured out time travel, this makes straight up makes no sense.

But that’s the main problem of anti-Zionism (and anti-semitism), it irremediably destroys your brain cells and with it any logic of critical analysis.

Now for an actual, factual history of the State of Palestine.

Once upon a time, it never existed, not even for one second.

The British occupation started in 1917, a few months after the fall of the Ottoman Empire and the British Mandate of Palestine started in 1920.

A few dates seem to be in order for those claiming the Jews started ‘occupying’ Palestine at the time of the British Mandate.

Tel Aviv, founded in 1909, during the Ottoman rule (which has been going on for 400 years).

Kfar Saba, founded in 1903, during the Ottoman rule.

Petah Tikva, founded in 1878, during the Ottoman rule.

Meah Shearim, the Jewish orthodox neighborhood of Jerusalem, founded in 1874, during the Ottoman rule.

Hadera, founded in 1891, during the Ottoman rule.

Ness Tziona, founded in 1883, during the Ottoman rule.

Rishon LeTzion, founded in 1882, during the Ottoman rule.

Rehovot, founded in 1890, during the Ottoman rule.

Many Jewish towns were created before 1948, during the time of the British mandate towns such as:

Bat Yam (1926), Bnei Brak (1924), Giv’at Shmuel (1944), Givatayim (1922), Herzliya (1924), Holon (1935), Kfar Yona (1932), Kiryat Ata (1925), Kiryat Bialik (1934), Kiryat Motzkin (1934), Kiryat Ono (1939), Kiryat Yam (1941), Nahariya (1935), Nesher (1923), Netanya (1929), Ra’anana (1922), Ramat Gan (1921), Ramat HaSharon (1923) and the list goes on.

Those towns were not Arab villages that were bulldozed by the IDF to replace the Muslim population with Jews (remember, before 1948, IDF didn’t exist back then), but were created after a legal land purchase by the Jews living by the hundreds of thousands in the region, before 1948.

With names such as Ness Tziona (the miracle of Zion), Rishon LeTzion (the first of Zion) or Herzliya (based on the name Herzl), it seems pretty certain Zionists created those towns.

You had Jews living in the Hebron region in what Israel bashers call the ‘occupied west-bank’.

in 1929, 62 Jews were murdered in Hebron by an angry Arab mob led by Nazi sympathizer Amin El-Husseini, who travelled to Berlin in 1941 and personally urged Hitler to implement a ‘final solution’ so those pesky Jews wouldn’t overwhelm the Middle East.

When did the fabled Palestinian state exist?

The one Israel bashers claim we invaded and chased the ‘native population’ just like in the American continent?

A substantial reward is promised to anyone able to provide me with this crucial information.

A trip to a chic restaurant on my treat.

I’ve got to keep my money of course because it has never existed.

In fact, where does the name Palestine comes from, we know it is not from Arabic as there is no such root in Arabic as PLSTN.

In Semitic languages, the root is an arrangement of 3 letters (in some rare cases 4), that put together, offer a certain meaning.

All the nouns, adverbs, adjectives and verbs related to this meaning are the root with some letters added at the beginning or end of it.

As a small example:

The root KTV in Hebrew refers to the action of putting down speech in writing.

Likhtov means to write, Mikhtav is a letter, Ktiva is writing, Ani Kotev is masculine for I write, Ani Kotevet is feminine for I write and so on.

All those cases are the extension of the root KTV.

Palestine comes from no known root in Arabic, it has absolutely no Arabic meaning or origin. Even in its Arabic form, philastin, it’s just pronouncing with an Arabic intonation a word which came from another language.

That language happens to be Latin and the name Arabs took their Arabized form from is Palestina.

After the Jewish-Roman war of 66-73 (yes, Jews, not Arab Muslims), the Romans thought they were done with the ‘Jewish problem’ until a new rebellion started in 132 and ended in 135 with the complete destruction of the Jewish resistance at the hands of Emperor Hadrian.

He understood that as long as Jews would long for their homeland, they would be trouble for the Roman Empire and the way to cut the bond between the Jews and their land was by changing its name and the name of the towns that held a deep meaning for Jews.

He renamed Judea and Galilee: Syria-Palestina and renamed Jerusalem: Aelia Capitolina.

He did not choose the name Palestina at random.

He knew that until the time of King David, the Children of Israel main enemies were the Philistines, a group of white European seafarers who came from the Aegean Sea (probably the island of Crete).

They formed on the south western shore of Israel a narrow strip of land (sound familiar?) which contained 5 city states: Rafah, Gaza, Ashkelon, Ashdod and Gath.

The Hebrews called them Phelishtim (hence the Anglicized Philistines) from the Hebrew root PH L SH which forms the verb Liphlosh or to invade.

Basically, Phelishtim (philistines) means invaders.

So, this is the name that Emperor Hadrian chose, knowing full well the deep animosity and hatred there had been in the past between the Jews and the Philistines.

Palestine is therefore a name used by anyone who whishes to erase the Jewish history and culture of this land.

It is an act of anti-semitism.

Well, now that I’ve made this clear, back to our history lesson.

After the fall of the western Roman Empire, Palestine (the region) came under the control of the Christian Byzantine Empire.

In the 7th century, the Arabs came out of the Arab peninsula and invaded the rest of the Middle East, in places that until then had no Arab population like Palestine, Lebanon, Iraq, Egypt, North Africa, Italy, Spain and France.

The region of Palestine was under the control of various Caliphates until it was briefly under the crusader’s control and Caliphates again until the 16th century where it came under Ottoman control until 1917.

All the time the region of Palestine was under Muslim control, not ONCE did they tried to create a Palestinian State with Jerusalem as its capital, NOT ONCE.

After the end of the 1948-49 war, the Jewish State of Israel was de facto what was under Jewish control and what was not was Muslim.

Judea-Samaria was occupied by Jordan and the Gaza Strip by Egypt.

From 1948 to 1967, why didn’t the so-called Palestinians create a Palestinian state with East Jerusalem as capital?

It was under Muslim control the whole time.

In my short historical recap. One fact is clearly flagrant.

AT NO POINT WAS THERE EVER A PALESTINIAN STATE, like ever.

Don’t get fooled by fairytales of the evil Zionists stealing the land of the Palestinians, we stole nothing and we came home to take back what was always ours.

David Meir

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wwwafflewrites · 4 years

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A Rewrite of History

Chapter 6—Phantom Traveler (Part 2)

The first ten minutes, you felt lousy. Lousy, and also scared stiff. Why shouldn't you be? This plane was going to take the plunge in a little over a half and hour, and these people had no idea, save you and the Winchesters. And even they didn't really know the extent of it. They probably thought they could exorcise the demon before much happened.

"Just try to relax."

"Just try to shut up."

The engines whirred, shaking the plane as it lifted itself into the air.

The plane was dreadfully quiet. There were some murmurs here and there throughout the plane, but you tuned into the conversation to your left. Dean was fidgeting in his seat, humming Metallica. “I hate freaking airplanes.”

You couldn’t agree with him more.

You had roughly thirty minutes until this plane began the skydive, and there wasn't much to do but wait. Wait for the Winchesters to fumble around and finally find the demon.

You actually knew the latin pretty well—the 'Rituale Romanum'. You had practiced it back in your younger years, being superstitious and all. It was a phase where you carried salt in your bag and whispered Christo to passersby. As cringeworthy as the phase was, it was coming in handy now. Now that demons actually existed outside of your dreams.

As time extended, you became uncomfortable. A ball of pain in your stomach like a little knot, which was slowly tightening. Then, you realised: you were on your damn period. Of all freaking places. You squirmed in your seat, wondering if you could sneak those pads from out of your travel bag.

"Hey, I'm sorry, miss. You just look very uncomfortable. Is something wrong?"

You stiffened, just barely turning enough to see a kind, concerned lady behind Dean Winchester.

Hearing the question, Dean managed to suck in a breath and peer over at you, curious as well.

Nosy Winchesters.

You clenched and unclenched your fist, a nervous habit of yours. You needed to throw him off from looking at you anymore. He had too good a view of your face for your comfort, and you became self conscious of your disguise.

So, you told her the truth. "Just, uh, you know, feminine issues."

Dean looked away quickly.

You weren’t surprised. Sure, it could have partially been him realizing he was wrong to eavesdrop (no, who were you kidding), but this was 26 year-old Dean Winchester, who avoided chick flick moments better than he avoided monsters, and was very protective of his masculinity.

It was a good strategy: make him uncomfortable, and he was less likely to pay you any notice. Like how most people skipped over kissing couples in almost every spy movie ever. PDA worked to make most people overlook you, and so did periods.

This was probably the only moment in your life you could ever say bless freaking periods.

The lady made a little 'o' with her mouth and turned down the volume of her voice. "Oh, do you need something?" When you nodded, she kindly offered some supplies.

You thanked her and headed over to the bathroom, feeling relieved to finally escape that little space. Your heart was fluttering in your chest, and you needed to calm the frick down before you had a demon cramming itself down your throat.

Brightside was that the Winchesters didn't know it was you. That felt good, at least. Your disguise wasn't anything that significant, but it was working nonetheless. You kind of felt like Clark Kent, in that way.

And Dean is Batman.

You snickered to yourself, feeling a bit better. The hilarity of it all was helping.

Yeah, you thought, Dean is Batman.

///

The Winchesters were finally starting to ask the right questions. Who was it possessing?

You knew fully well, having watched the entire show, that the 'chink the armor' thing was a bunch of BS. Unless this demon just had its own rules versus other demons in the future. Or maybe it was just... weaker?

Or maybe this universe just bent with the rules of the show—it didn't matter whether its rules in the supernatural were a constant or not.

The Winchesters started focusing on Amanda, which wasn't a terrible guess. It was her first flight since the crash, after all.

Of course, you knew that it wasn’t her, so the entire time you felt like rolling your eyes as you eavesdropped. Dean brought out the holy water and you nearly snorted. It was crazy to believe they, the Winchesters, were ever once amateurs.

Sam tells Dean to use 'Christo', and sends him to the back to speak with Amanda.

In the meantime, you tried to recite the exorcism in your head.

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas... omnis incursio infernalis adversarii… omnis... legio, omnis... congregatio et secta diabolica.

That was the easiest part. You paused, concentrating. Was it argo or ergo? You couldn’t quite remember. ...omnis legio diabolica… something something decipere humanas creaturas.

So… you were a little rusty.

You glanced over, wishing you could just get your hands on that exorcism. Alas, that might look a little suspicious to Sam Winchester, sitting not two feet from the book on Dean’s seat.

You didn’t have to wake long for Dean to return. "Alright, well she has gotta be the most well-adjusted person on the planet."

You hide the small smile that comes along your face. You really missed Season 1 Dean Winchester.

Sam is talking with him in murmurs as you try to compose yourself and your love for these boys. Despite the fact that they’re pretty keen on gutting you the next time you show your face.

Some turbulence rattles the plane and Dean tenses. "Come on, that can't be normal!" you hear, then there are some angry hushes between them.

But you know what they’re saying to each other: "You are wide open to demonic possession."

With that, Dean takes a few exaggerated, deep breaths. It’s not very convincing, but the demon didn’t take him on, so. Yeah.

It was sort of comical that none of the other passengers heard their conversations. Like, Sam Winchester was literally talking about exorcism, and the rest of the plane was in La La Land.

Despite having a lower voice, you could hear them both pretty clearly. Rituale Romanum, two parts, blah blah, expels demon—manifest—more powerful. Second part sends it back to hell. You were pretty sure they used a shorter exorcism later in the show… but whatever.

Dean brings out his signature EMF meter he’d built out of a walkman. Man, you loved that thing.

And soon enough, he was trying to covertly scan the plane. Of course, he was terrible at hiding it. Any hunter could see what it was, and any passenger was more than agitated by the weird sweeps of Dean’s hands.

The meter swept at your head and you looked up at him and tried to send him a convincing ‘wtf’ look. All the while, your brain was saying ‘scanny scanny’.

Your body was in a confusing state of boredom and anxiety, and you didn’t know how else to deal with it other than fidgeting in your seat.

Sam scared Dean by grabbing his shoulders, and you realize shit is about to go down pretty soon.

"Anything?"

"No, nothing. How much time we got?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"Maybe we missed somebody."

By cue, the EMF meter lights up red. Of course, you can’t hear it, but you swear you could feel the ‘whrhhrrhe whwehrrhhw’ sound of it in your bones.

The flight attendant comes out in sync, and the Winchesters freeze.

You couldn’t help it: you mouthed "Christo" just as Dean says it, and the flight attendant's eyes flash black.

///

There is twelve minutes left. Twelve minutes until the plane plummets and hopefully you don’t crash.

Frick. You weren’t ready for this.

You decide that focusing on what’s happening is the best way to focus, so you watch as the Winchesters go in the back to talk with Amanda. Who then are swallowed into the curtains, leaving you with the civilians.

You curse to yourself. Sam took the book with him. Of course, he did. Duh.

There are two knots in your chest now: one from your physical period, and the other from your anxiety, which weave together into one tangle. Suddenly, it's a little harder to breathe on the stuffy airplane.

Your heart rate spiked and you jumped a little as Amanda came out to go and fetch the flight attendant. Your minutes were dwindling.

The flight attendant passed by and you weren’t sure what to do anymore. Should you go help? That would certainly defeat the purpose of a disguise.

Watching the show, you’d always thought this part was so much louder. After all, the commotion was only covered by some thin curtains. You had always wondered why the civilians weren’t more concerned.

In that way, you were partially correct. The fight in the back certainly alarmed most passengers, but Amanda nervously guarded the doorway.

And then, the book was thrown into the aisle. You snatched it, bracing yourself.

Your stomach dropped, and screams erupted from all around the plane.

I’m falling I’m falling I’m falling.

You had a death grip on the seats around you as you tried to focus on the shaking words in your hands.

“Terribilis!” you shouted above the screaming. Oh my God, I’m falling. “Deus de... sanctuario suo! Deus... Israhel ipse truderit virtutem! Et fortitudinem plebi... Suae. Benedictus deus!” You barely kept your balance, bellowing the last words: “Gloria patri!”

Thunder shook the plane out and soon it was coasting normally again. If planes even coasted.

Everyone was shaken. The Winchesters lined their eyes up with you, glancing from the book to your face. You don’t see hatred, however, so they didn’t recognize you.

///

You were really hoping to leave the area without the Winchesters tagging behind. You did everything you could to disappear, but to no avail, they caught up with you.

Dean was at your side, just walking for about ten seconds before he said anything. There was no way the strategy they were using to corner you wasn’t creepy. At least you knew they didn’t really mean it like that.

The vibes you were getting from them wasn’t all that friendly, though. They were suspicious and rightly so. A hunter just happened to be on the same flight as them? Coincidences were never coincidences, and you couldn’t agree more.

“So, how long have you been hunting?” Dean asked carefully. Not how, not why, just when. You could respect that kind censorship: respecting boundaries and avoiding triggers. The boys both knew how to charm people—that was for sure.

You sighed, blowing up your cheeks a little, “Oh… about a month.”

You could see their dad’s journal peeking out from Dean’s pocket.

Both of their eyebrows raised, rocking back on their heels a little. “And you could recite an exorcism? There was no way you could read that thing. I could hardly read the exit sign.”

You thought about your lonely ass watching Supernatural, trying to say the chantations as the Winchesters did. “You could say I’ve had some practice.” Hell, you learned it from them. “Anyway, there was only a little left to recite.”

You nudged Dean, knocking the journal from his pocket and into your trench coat. “You guys did most of the work.”

You were despicable.

They look impressed. “You’ve hunted demons?”

That was a bit of a funny question, coming from the Winchesters. And also an unexpected one. In response, you got flustered. “Oh—no,” you said quickly.

Sam's eyes wandered, settling on your bag. First, his eyebrows twitched in recognition, and then he went rigid, bringing his eyes to meet yours in realization.

You felt your blood rush. "You know… I should probably get going." With that you turned tail and fled for your life. Again.

Why does it always go like this? Like, shit, c’mon already. This isn’t Tom and Jerry.

"Dean! She—!" Sam yelled and took off. "The bag!"

"What?!" Dean shouted in confusion. He was distant but loud.

"The bag! It's her bag!"

"Her—" Dean trailed off, panting as they both chased you. He knew, then. He recognized it, too.

You rounded a corner, then slammed into the chest of a man. You gasped, nearly falling on your rear, yet his hand got your arm and there was a distorted flutter.

You made out a blur of a beige trench coat just at your eye level, and you knew who it was. Dean was not kidding when he said angel travel sucked.

You curled into yourself, cradling your head. That had seriously messed with your ears, and now you just felt dizzy. You choked on a little bile, but you weren’t nauseous enough to actually vomit. You just really wanted to.

A stoic voice said, “I have transported you to your car.” Before you could respond he was gone.

You were alone once again.

///

Tag: @rosaren2498 , @pillowjj , @busy-bee-angel-misska , @elle-r , @dagnylokisdottir , @omg-we-really-doo , @millieccino

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thewnchstrs · 6 years

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It’s a Two-Way Street

Pairing: SamXdaughter!reader, DeanXniece!reader

Disclaimers: mentions of blood

Word Count: 1.8K

Masterlist

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Sam, for the most part, had an extraordinary memory. He could recall a chapter of a lore book he’d read nearly three years ago while also remembering the parts of the text he highlighted. He could tell you the make and model of the three guns in their weapons bag, currently resting forgotten in the corner of the trunk of the Impala.

Sam could tell you in precise detail every second of every minute that happened the day his daughter was born. The sterile smell of the hospital room, the way the bed sheets seemed to crinkle in stiffness every time his wife shifted uncomfortably in the bed. He could draw the image of his daughter, coming into the world shrieking as she was held up high in the hands of the doctor who delivered her.

However, it was a two way street where he also remembered some things he would much rather forget. Jessica on the ceiling, flames licking greedily up the plaster walls. And the hellhounds, blood, so much blood surrounding his lifeless brother. The image of his daughter as she looked to him, her doe-like eyes now pools of black.

Days after, he’d still be able to run the next hour in his head like a movie projected on a pull down screen. He remembered black spots in his vision, gasping for air as he clawed at his throat, his seven year old daughter smirking in front of him as she clenched her fist tighter and tighter as if she had her hands wrapped around his windpipe. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears trying its hardest to get enough oxygen to the brain. He remembered feeling like he’d failed her, that the one thing he’d always promised wouldn’t happen, did. He failed Y/N’s mom, and if he had one more chance he’d kill the son of a bitch who dared possess his daughter-

And then there was air filling his lungs so quickly as his lungs opened up like flowers to the sunlight. He saw Dean, restraining Y/N as she kicked and screamed, her nails dragging across his arms. In an instant, he ran out of the room down the hallway as Sam gasped for air again, gulping it down greedily as he leaned back against the wall of his daughter’s bedroom where he’d come to talk to her about why she’d been so distant.

He struggled to his feet, making his way to the hallway where he heard shouting down by the dungeon. Three voices all screeching unintelligible things as he ran toward them, the voices becoming louder and louder with each step he took.

Skidding to stop himself from passing the dungeon, he ran inside the already propped open doors to see Dean and Cas struggling to tie Y/N to a chair in the middle of the Devil’s Trap painted on the floor. Just the sight of it making him freeze in his tracks. Cas held Y/N, trying desperately to keep her arms at her side as Dean tied her feet to each leg of the chair to no avail as she continuously tried kicking him in the face. The sound of Cas’ voice was the only thing that pulled him out of the fear he stood in.

“SAM!” Cas yelled over the commotion, meeting Sam’s eyes. Immediately, he jumped into action next to Dean, pulling Y/N leg down to tie it to the chair before moving on to her arms.

The three of them stood back, examining their work as Y/N sat, panting as she clenched and unclenched her fists as if she’d break through at any minute.

“We need to talk,” Dean whispered to Sam before leading him out of the dungeon, Sam continuously shooting looks to his daughter over his shoulder.

They stood in the doorway of the room, Dean glancing from his brother to his niece, his arms folded over his chest. “How did it happen?”

Sam wish he knew. Wish he could give his brother along with himself an answer as to what could have gone so horribly wrong for this to happen. She doesn’t go on hunts with them, they barely let her have sleepovers at friends house in fear of something getting to her.

“Something had to have gotten inside, but how? I mean, this place is warded against any kind of demon out there and- hey,” Dean said, punching his brother in the shoulder when he realized he hadn’t heard a word he just said. Sam’s head snapped to Dean.

Sam shook his head, swallowing past the lump in his throat, “I’m sorry, it’s just- what do we do?”

Dean knew Sam wasn’t going to like it. Hell, he didn’t like it. “We have to exorcise her-”

“Dean-”

“I know, alright?” Dean began, the fear practically radiating off of Sam. “She’ll be okay. And I know it’s scary as hell but we can’t let that thing squat any longer. We need to get it out of her.”

Sam’s chest tightened at the thought of it. He knew what the exorcisms did to people, how bad they hurt them. Hell, he knew how bad it hurt and one wrong move could blow it all to hell.

“Just do it fast.”

Sam followed his brother back into the room as the three of them made a sort of triangle around her, watching her from each angle as she laughed darkly up at them. “So, the team have a game plan?”

Her voice was unlike any he’d ever heard before, making chills run up and down Sam’s spine like nails on a chalkboard.

“Yeah. We do.” Dean tightened the rope against her wrists and ankles and as he stood again, began reciting the incantation from memory, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”

Y/N’s hands began to clench into fists again, her body tensing at the words Dean said. Sweat formed at her hairline, her body heavily rising and falling as the demon inside of her struggled to hold on.

Sam and Cas watched on in pain at the small girl. They’d never exorcised someone so young they had no idea the effects it would have on her.

Y/N began to laugh, a guttural laugh that nobody would expect out of a seven year old. She threw her head back, laughing, “You think this is going to work on me?”

“Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolicaadjuramus te.Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare.”

Y/N flinched again, her body beginning to shake violently as the chair she sat in was thrown rapidly around the Devil’s Trap but never leaving the circle. She screamed in pain at the incantation. Sam made a move toward her but Cas threw his hand out in front of him.

“This isn’t your daughter,” Cas reminded him. Sam clenched his jaw but stood his ground, the sight tearing him apart.

“Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis.” Dean continued, having to nearly scream the words over Y/N’s cries of pain. Dean had to push himself to keep going. He knew it meant the exorcism was working, “Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt.”

The screaming was becoming so loud it felt as if it were shaking the room, the light bulbs above them flickered on and off. They shot looks to each other, this had never happened before.

“I could use some help here!” Dean shouted to Sam and Cas as they both joined in on the exorcism together.

“Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire te rogamus, audi nos. Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus, audi nos!”

They watched in horror as Y/N broke free of her constraints, the rope falling to the floor as she stood from the chair before falling to her knees as they finished the exorcism, “Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo. Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem et fortitudinem plebi Suae. Benedictus deus. Gloria patri!”

As if on cue as they uttered out the last word of the exorcism, Y/N’s head shot backwards, her face to the ceiling as a raging plume of black smoke raced toward it. The lights above them shattered and plunged them into darkness except the one just above Y/N’s head where they could see that the smoke seemed to have gone on forever, pouring out of her mouth for what felt like an eternity. Y/N’s body convulsing as it did until there was nothing left but silence, a small girl crumpled in the middle of the floor, and three men rushing toward her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Y/N, for the most part, looked nothing like her father. Her nose, her lips, her hair, her smile, were all her mother’s. She even inherited her mom’s Y/E/C eyes, but if there was one thing she got from Sam, it was his memory.

That was why, before she woke up, Cas gently laid two fingers atop her forehead, clearing away the memories of the past hour. Sam would have to live with what he’d seen, but it didn’t mean Y/N would.

“Thank you, Cas.” Sam smiled up to him from where he sat at the edge of Y/N’s bed.

“It’s the least I could do.”

Dean came back into the room, cold rag in hand as he lightly placed it over her forehead, sighing as he noticed how pale she still was, “C’mon, pretty girl. Don’t leave us hangin’.”

When Y/N didn’t even stir, they all watched and waited patiently. They knew she’d be okay, but waiting was always the hardest part. Usually, it takes time after an exorcism for someone to begin to feel better. It takes an unimaginable toll on a body, especially one as small as Y/N’s. For most people, time was what it took.

Sam ran a hand over her hair, “We’re all here, Y/N. All you’ve gotta do it open those eyes. We’re here, Y/N.”

Sometimes, however, all it takes is a little reassurance that everything would be okay.

Sam knew she was coming to her senses when her hand twitched against his, her eyes moved slowly behind her eyelids as they parted open, her long eyelashes batting over and over again as she looked up at them.

“Dad?” She whimpered out, a hand over her ribcage.

“There she is,” Sam smiled. Dean and Cas running to her side to meet her.

“What happened?” She mumbled, her eyes bouncing between them.

“Took a nasty fall on that bike of yours,” Dean said without missing a beat. You got pretty banged up...but doctor Dean says you’re expected to make a full recovery.”

“Is my bike okay?” She asked, making the three of them smile at her concern for her bike more than herself.

“I’ll be sure to heal your bike for you.” Cas said, easing her worries. Sam smiled at his daughter, pushing away the events of earlier and made a promise to himself to remember these moments above all things.

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