#adam @ lawrence / left lawrence right adam / adam @ lawrence

[vampireshmu]

um. adam n lawrence. <3

[amandabe11man]

had the most insane dream about how Saw XI would go and it was so spectacularly bad that it reminded me of reading SNK's last chapter 😭 there was one cool part, but it was made pointless a couple minutes later

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Where to Run

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @deansobssessedgirl

Synopsis: you’re on the run from the British Men of Letters, and you meet your big brothers for the first time.

Entering the United States unnoticed had gone better than you thought it would. As soon as you got through passport control, you dug into your backpack—the only luggage you had brought with you, and it contained all you owned—and pulled out two pieces of paper. You considered them both for a long moment—one, an over a decade-old letter with the name of a small city in black ink in the middle of it, and the other a list of cities, one circled in red.

The list would take you to a nearby Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, and the letter…

The letter might just lead you to your father.

…

“And you’re sure we haven’t already been to this one?” Sam asked his big brother as they pulled up to a storage facility.

“Of course I’m sure. I would’ve remembered one so close to Lawrence,” Dean said.

“What do you think dad kept in here?” Sam questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him as Dean led the way to the right storage room.

“Who knows?” Dean shrugged. “Let’s just hope one of these works.” He jangled a small set of keys on a ring that John had left in the car—they contained a spare key for the Impala as well as John’s old truck, and several storage facility keys. Dean had thought that he and Sammy had been to all of John’s secret storage places, but after scanning John’s journal for the hundredth time, he caught sight of an address scratched in the corner of a page with a storage number.

“It’s this one,” Sam spoke up, grabbing the keys from Dean and trying a few before one finally worked.

The room was small, but packed full. Sam and Dean—after carefully scanning for traps—split up and began to go through their father’s things.

“Hey, I think this file cabinet’s locked,” Sam said from one corner. Dean lifted his head, but didn’t go to his brother’s aid, too busy going through a box of odds and ends.

“Or you just didn’t pull hard enough—maybe if you had any muscle in those noodles—“

“Ok, ok,” Sam interrupted with a scoff. He rolled his eyes, but didn’t dismiss Dean’s theory—he yanked hard on the file cabinet, and it jerked open in a cloud of dust. Coughing, Sam reached down to shuffle through what was inside. “Hey, there’s only one file in here.”

“Fascinating,” Dean said in a tone that said exactly the opposite.

“There’s a birth certificate inside,” Sam said, and suddenly his voice caught. “With…with dad’s name on it.”

“Dad’s birth certificate?” Dean asked, mildly intrigued.

“Dean…not dad’s.”

“What?” Dean was by Sam’s side before Sam had even seen him move.

“Y/N Winchester, born to John Winchester and…Jane Doe.” Sam frowned, his brow crinkling. “I wonder why dad would use his real name when the mother used a fake.”

“This can’t be real,” Dean insisted. “I mean…I know with Adam…but another one?”

“Let’s see,” Sam mumbled, putting the certificate inside and checking the rest of the file. “Pictures.” Sam held up a stack, which Dean immediately snatched from him. Sam ignored this, because he’d found his own details to focus on. “And letters.” Sam grabbed the first letter from a stack of dozens, and began to read. “Dear John…our girl turns one today…”

Dean tapped Sam’s shoulder and held up a photo of a little Y/H/C girl blowing out a singular candle on a pink cake.

Sam moved onto the next letter, skimming it.

“Dear John…I put Y/N in gymnastics because it’s the only way I can get her to work on strength training and endurance.” Sam’s brow crinkled in confusion, but he was distracted when Dean held up a photo of the same girl, a few years older, in a gymnastics leotard on a balance beam.

“What do you think she meant by training?” Sam asked. “Do you think she was a hunter?”

“Could be.” Dean shrugged. “Maybe that’s why she signed her letters Jane Doe.” Dean pointed to the bottom of the letter, where “love, Jane Doe” was written.

Sam was about to pull out another letter when his fingers froze on the paper.

“Dean…”

“Hm?” Dean asked distractedly, still going through photos.

“Dean look at this.” Sam flipped the paper around, and on the back of it was a watermark—an indicator of who made the stationary.

It was the Men of Letters insignia.

…

“Lebanon, please,” you said to the taxi driver. “I’ll direct you to a more specific location when we get there.”

The man shrugged, unbothered, and began the journey.

You desperately wanted to go to Lawrence in search for your father, but you had to be realistic—you hadn’t eaten all day, you were jet lagged and exhausted, and you needed a plan of action. You needed to recover and regroup, and you needed to do it in a secure location; you needed to feel safe. In fact, you were so wound up that you flinched when the radio came on.

“—o one seems to have any information on who is causing the recent string of murders. The chief of police has offered no comment, other than a warning that the people of Lawrence should stay indoors when possible, and be alert. But there’s no denying the oddity of the case—the mass murderer seems to have some kind of vampire ideologies, with each of its victims drained completely of their blood. In other news—“

“Hey, driver!” You called out, and he glanced over his shoulder to indicate he was listening. “I changed my mind. Take me to Lawrence.”

…

“It’s gotta be another djinn.”

Dean would’ve groaned if he didn’t have a mouthful of hamburger to swallow first.

“Not those again,” he said after a gulp of beer washed down the last of his burger. They’d finished going through John’s things—Sam taking the file of your pictures and documents with him—only to leave and stumble upon a case. Dean had wanted to stop at a diner on the way back home, but he hadn’t expected to walk past a news stand to see a paper with “vampire killer” written across the front. It took Sam less than ten minutes of reading the paper, as well as a little time on the internet, to render the paper completely wrong.

“It doesn’t fit with a vampire. No teeth marks, no signs of struggle, the bodies were found in a different location from where they were taken—it’s definitely a djinn.”

“Ok, so silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood.” Dean sighed. “We happen to have one of those?”

“I think we still have the one we used last time in the trunk,” Sam said.

“Then let’s get going.”

…

You picked up a machete after being dropped off by the cabbie, hoping beyond hope that the radio had been right (even if they were kidding) about it being a vampire—there were several monsters known to drink blood, and if it was anything other than a vamp then things might get tricky. Normally you would be more prepared, but it wasn’t like you could get your weapons through customs when traveling to America, and you’d had to travel light so you could move more quickly. The British Men of Letters worked quickly, so you couldn’t take any chances. And buying up strange kinds of weapons near an old Men of Letters bunker was definitely too high a chance to take, so all you could do was hope that it was a vamp.

You’d done so much research about Lawrence that you barely even have to wonder where the creature might be hiding out—while researching Lawrence, you’d almost automatically noted the places where a supernatural being might be inclined to hide, so all you had to do was see which one was closest to the bodies that were dropping.

Then you were ready to hunt.

…

“I’m telling you, this has to be it. It’s nearly equidistant to all the bodies, and it’s the perfect place for a djinn to hide out.”

“You don’t have to sell me on the location, I believe you,” Dean told Sam. “But you do have to tell me how to get there.”

“Turn right here…yeah, and a left at that stop sign, and then we’re there.”

“So are we just not gonna talk about it?” Dean asked after a beat of silence as he followed Sam’s directions.

“Talk about what?”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t know, maybe our little sister?”

“I don’t know what to say, Dean,” Sam sighed. “There’s no address anywhere in the documents or the letters, and we don’t even know her mother’s name, or if Y/N even goes by Winchester. Her mother used an alias, it makes sense that the kid would go by one, too. We have no reason to believe that she’s going by the name on her birth certificate, so we don’t have the first clue on how to find her.”

“Well it feels like we have to do something,” Dean argued. “I mean we don’t even know if this kid knows about dad—for all we know, she thinks he’s still alive. She deserves to know.”

“Why the sudden interest?” Sam questioned. “You didn’t seem all this interested when we found out about Adam.”

“That was different,” Dean sighed. “With Adam…Adam was just some normal, innocent kid who saw dad once a year for a baseball game and knew nothing about the life. This kid—Y/N—with the talk in those letters about training, and the Men of Letters insignia…she’s in this life, Sam, I can feel it. And since dad’s not around anymore…I think it’s our job to make sure she’s ok.”

“And I’d be happy to do that,” Sam insisted. “If only we knew how to find her. But for now, let’s do what we can do—take out this djinn.”

…

The sight of a car in the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse worried you—even if it was a beautiful car.

“Chevy Impala,” you mumbled to yourself. “67, I think.” You shook yourself, moving your mind back to the task at hand, rather than the conversation you were having with yourself. Hopefully the car here didn’t mean that its owners were anywhere near the warehouse—the last thing you needed was some innocent people getting in the way and getting hurt.

Seeing no one around, you hefted your machete and headed inside.

…

Dean gestured at Sam to be quiet as he peaked around a corner. Signaling that the coast was clear, Dean led the way through the warehouse, the silver dagger gripped in his steady hand. Dean was just signaling Sam to wait so he could check around another corner when—

“Hey!”

“Jeez—what?”

Dean stopped himself just short of cutting not a djinn, but a Y/H/C girl wielding a machete that was aimed at him.

“Hey, easy.” Dean took a quick step back, raising the knife and his hands in the air. “We’re not—“ Dean’s words died in his throat when he got a good look at your face.

“Dean,” Sam breather from beside him. “It’s—“

“No kidding.”

“What are you talking about?” You demanded, lowering the machete just a little bit. “Who are you guys, what are you doing here?” You didn’t want for an answer. “You have to get out of here, there’s a—“ your eyes fell to the silver dagger.

Sam’s gaze followed your own to the weapon in Dean’s hand before he looked back at you.

“It’s not a vamp,” he said, gesturing at your machete. “It’s a djinn.”

You lowered your machete completely.

“You’re hunters?”

Dean couldn’t keep the astonished smile off his face.

“And you’re Y/N Winchester.”

The machete was back up in an instant.

“Who are you?” You demanded for the second time. “Men of Letters?”

“Easy, easy,” Dean said, taking a step back as you advanced on them. “I’m not—“

“Guys!”

Sam’s warning proceeded the arrival of the djinn by a split second—just enough time for Dean to dodge the blow that the djinn tried to land on him.

“Hey!” Your call turned the attention of the djinn, who grabbed hold of your arm before you had the chance to move away. He twisted your arm behind your back until your machete was crashing to the ground and you were crying out in pain.

“Here!” Dean’s call came a second before the silver dagger was hurtling at your face. You snatched it up with your free hand and twisted it so it was facing the djinn a moment before you plunged the dagger into the djinn’s side. He howled with pain and released your arm, giving you an opportunity to spin around and stab again, this time in the neck.

The djinn went down without a sound, and the thud of his fall echoed through the empty room. For a long moment, only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard. That is, until Dean took a step towards you.

“Back off!” You yelled, raising the blood-soaked dagger.

“Are you serious?” Dean scoffed. “Hey, I just helped save your life.”

“I’m not going back!” You were starting to look panicked as you backed away from the brothers. “So-so just tell Lady Bevell, or Ketch, or Mick, or whoever recruited you that I’m done! I’m not a part of the Men of Letters, and I never will be!”

“Hey, hey, easy,” Sam soothed. “We’re not Men of Letters.”

“Then how do you know who I am?” You challenged.

“Because of John Winchester.”

Sam’s response froze you in your tracks.

“J…John Winchester?” The dagger was slowly lowering. “You know him? You know where he is?”

The hope in your eyes was like a punch in the gut to both brothers. However, it was gone in an instant and replaced with a harsh suspicion as you raised the knife higher again.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“That’s how we know who you are, kid,” Dean insisted.

“Here—“ Sam’s hand was halfway to his pocket when you pointed your knife at him and he froze. “Easy, ok? I’ll go slow.” He slowly reached in, and you relaxed slightly when he pulled out a small bundle of papers. “We’ve got letters that your mom sent to him, with some pictures.” Sam held them out, and you hesitantly took them, thumbing through the stack while occasionally glancing warily at the boys.

“They stop,” you mumbled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“The letters, they stopped…at least ten years ago.” You looked back up at the boys as you spoke. “Is…is there more, or…”

The despair on the boys’ faces spoke for itself. Your lip was already quivering as you tucked the letters away, still holding onto the knife but keeping it pointed down.

“Is he…is he dead?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “About ten years ago.”

Sam could tell you were trying not to cry, trying to act like they hadn’t just ripped the rug out from under you.

“You know, I—I didn’t even know him—“ your voice cracked. “But I…gosh, I re-I really wanted to.”

You let Dean take the knife from you after he put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Um, so.” You wiped your hand over your face, trying to brush away any stray tears as you tried valiantly to pull yourself together. “So how did you two…”

“He’s…he’s our dad, too.” Sam said. Your eyes widened slightly as you absorbed this information.

“Wait, you…were you…from his wife?”

“You knew about her?” Dean asked.

“Not really,” you admitted. “John…dad, he…he never liked to talk about his past, but he did mention his wife in one of his letters…he said her death was what made him become a hunter.” Your lips quirked up as you remembered. “He said if I ever saw a yellow-eyed demon, send it to hell for him.” Your eyes went back to Dean and Sam. “Is…is that how he died? Hunting demons?”

“Kind of,” Sam said. “It’s…it’s a long story.”

“What about you?” Dean said suddenly. “If you know Lady Bevell and the rest, and you know they’re here recruiting, then you’ve got something to do with the Men of Letters. Not to mention their insignia on the back of those letters.”

Just the mention of the Men of Letters had you on edge again.

“Maybe we should talk about this at a more secure location,” you suggested. “There’s an old Men of Letters bunker not far from—“ you cut yourself off when you caught the look between the two brothers. “What?”

“We know,” Sam said. “We’ve been living in it.”

Dean noticed your fingers twitch, as if you were thinking about reaching for a weapon.

“And I’m supposed to believe you’re not Men of Letters?”

“Our grandfather was one,” Dean said. “He left us a key.”

You seemed to consider this. Dean watched as your eyes got a faraway look, and he knew you were trying to remember something.

“Mom said that John was from a line of the Men of Letters. It was one of the ways she tried to get him to join.” You shook yourself of the memories. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

Dean couldn’t help the way a smile twitched just slightly on his lips before he dropped it.

“Fair enough.”

…

You were quiet the whole way to the bunker, and although your brothers had questions they sensed you were tired and on edge, so they refrained. Dean kept glancing at you in the rearview mirror the whole way, and he was happy to see the way you slowly put your guard down—mostly out of exhaustion—as you relaxed into a light slumber.

You awoke with a start when Dean pulled into the bunker’s garage, the echo of Baby’s engine reverberating loudly.

“Home sweet home,” Dean crowed as you stepped out of the Impala. You didn’t say a word as he led you inside, but the moment the three of you settled down around the kitchen table, you finally started to talk.

“John met my mother on a hunt. She was just visiting America, vacation or something, but she happened to stumble on a case. They met…and well, I came along.” Both brothers noticed you skipping over the details, for which they were grateful. “But while mom was still pregnant she tried to convince dad to join the Men of Letters.” Sam noticed the way you kept switching between dad and John, as if you either weren’t sure what to say, or you weren’t sure what the boys were comfortable with. “He didn’t like the idea, and he didn’t want that for me, either. They fought about it, and mom left the country to go back to England. She was still pregnant…” Dean saw your fists clench and unclench as you blinked rapidly. “Dad, he…he never saw me in person. Any-anyway, she still wrote to him, and she let me read his letters. She said he deserved that much, at least. Dad was always telling me hunter things—I think he was hoping I’d end up a hunter, like him.”

“Why did you?” Sam spoke up. “I mean, if your mother raised you with the Men of Letters…”

“She kept a lot from me,” you said. “The…morally ambiguous parts.” At Dean’s strange look, you scoffed. “Ok, let’s be real, the straight up evil parts.” This got a grin from both brothers. “But she, uh…” the lightheartedness in the room was gone in an instant. “She died last year, and well…people stopped lying to me. I realized all the crap they really did, and I ran.”

“And what, they’re after you?” Dean questioned. “I mean it’s not like the mafia, right, I mean you can just leave.”

You nearly laughed out loud.

“I wish they were as sloppy as the mafia. No, you can’t just leave, especially not me—just because I’m a kid, doesn’t mean I couldn’t have over a decade of Men of Letters’ secrets stored in my brain. That’s why I came here, I…I wanted to find dad. To find family, protection.” You took a deep breath. “I want to be a hunter, not a Man of Letters.”

Dean found himself speaking before he even thought about what to say.

“Why do you have to be either?”

“What?” You said at the same time as Sam. Dean glanced between you before continuing.

“You’re just a kid—you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You don’t have to be either, you could be whatever you want.”

You blinked up at Dean, as though the thought had never occurred to you.

“I…I don’t…”

“Look,” Dean began. “Don’t decide just now. John may not be here, but we’re family too, kid. There’s an empty bedroom down the hall, you should get some sleep, get settled in…then maybe we could talk about this hunting stuff, ok? The important thing is, you’re safe here. Let’s just say we don’t like the British Men of Letters anymore than you do. They’re not getting in here, and they’re not getting to you. Everything else can wait for later.”

You felt a smile—a true smile—etching its way into your face for the first time in so long. You looked up at this man—your big brother—and you couldn’t help but feel that everything was going to be ok. Whether you decided to hunt or not, or whether the Men of Letters came after you, you knew one thing for sure—

You really had found your family.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe

[quinngefail]

Comic and short story below the cut !! It ended up being longer than anticipated so. Under the cut it goes 😤

First time posting a piece of writing for these two as well..., I hope you enjoy :)

"May I take your coat, sir?"

It was a question asked through a goofy smile, and a 'fancy' tone that carried more than just a little bit of exaggeration; both very deliberate on Adam's part. It's not that he didn't like performing these sorts of 'cheesy' romantic gestures, but he couldn't exactly ignore the way a particular sort of embarrassment would take hold of him during said gestures... Embarrassment that sat within him, screaming about how 'damn corny' he was acting right now. So, this was his working method of combating those less than pleasant feelings: play up the theatrics, put on a silly voice, make it into a whole bit. Things like that.

It really only worked so well. But, it was better than nothing.

However, and far more importantly, these were romantic gestures for Lawrence. And Adam was more than willing to put up with his bouts of trivial embarrassment for Lawrence... A fact that was further solidified as an appreciative smile spread across the older man's face, and he began to remove his coat. Adam moved closer to help, of course, proper gentleman he was, and all that- and in no time at all, the coat was hanging in his grip.

"So courteous," Lawrence lightly teased, still wearing that heart-melting smile of his, as he turned to face Adam.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm just doing so you feel compelled to make me something extra good for dinner tonight." Adam shot back, holding his eyes shut as a cocky grin spread across his face.

Lawrence gave a scoff, and a playful roll of his eyes. "And here I am, the fool who falls for it every single time." He holds his feigned look of utter defeat for a few moments longer, before returning to a genuine smile. He then leans in, placing a small kiss on his partner's forehead. "I'll go see what I can do for us." He murmurs, breaking away and turning to the direction of the kitchen.

Adam watches him disappear around the corner, unable to keep anything but adoration in his face. After Lawrence is out of sight, he turns his attention back to the coat in his hands. Without really even consciously deciding to do so, he gives it a few shakes as he moves to face the nearby hangers.

But then, there's a dull thud as something hits the ground. Adam’s gaze turns to the source, easily locating Lawrence’s fallen wallet.

Mild frustration brewing, Adam folds the coat over his left arm before bending over to snatch up the wallet. Returning to his full height, he absentmindedly flips the wallet over, intending to close and put it back in the coat's inner pocket.

And that was indeed the plan, but...

...

He really doesn't know how long he stands there, just staring at what was before him. He doesn't even notice Lawrence reappearing, poking out from behind the wall.

Heart racing, Lawrence approaches as fast as he can, putting his free hand on Adam's shoulder, trying to figure out what was going on, what was causing such a distressing reaction from the man he cared so deeply for-

But it doesn't take much detective work at all to put two and two together, as his eyes fall to what was in Adam's hand.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Lawrence leans back a bit. "Shit, I'm sorry, I kept meaning to show that to you-" he mutters before leaning forward, eyes open once more. He holds out a concerned hand, unsure now if he should or shouldn't offer his touch in this moment. "Look, um- I should have asked you about it first, and if it makes you uncomfortable, or if it feels like I'm moving things along too quickly, I can take it out-"

"N-no, no- it's not that," Adam interrupts him, giving a quick wipe to his eyes. "It's fine, really- it's just... I don't know, I guess I just never thought I'd ever be in anyone's wallet, is all," he ends with a small shrug and a diminished voice, his gaze falling away from Lawrence's... A silence hanging in the air.

"Well," Lawrence speaks, "I didn't just put it in there for no reason," he smiles gently, moving to stand behind Adam, leaving little distance between their bodies as he fondly looks down at the picture. "It's a photo that I really, truly love, just like I really, truly love you. And I'm happy to have it with me, just like I'm happy to have you with me."

As has often been the case lately, Adam doesn't know what to say. He stares at the photo for a little while longer, before finally giving a small, genuine "thank you,"

Lawrence hums in response. "Of course,"

They remain like this, just existing together... Letting their words sink in, and letting this moment linger.

"...I don't know if this picture really shows my good side, though." Adam remarks, being the first to break the silence, as was fully expected- a wry little smile cracking.

"And there he is," Lawrence gives another playful roll of his eyes, shaking his head a bit.

"No, seriously- this is what you want to carry around with you? This picture of you, sitting next to this ugly ass gremlin, who could look so much better if you just captured his good side?"

"I'm going back to the kitchen now," Lawrence pulls away, continuing to shake his head as he walks off.

"Good- because we do not want to see what happens if we feed my ass after midnight," Adam replies with a grin, sliding the wallet back into the coat pocket, finally hanging it up. "Really, Lawrence- I can go get my camera right now and we can fix this horrific situation- you can even wear that tie of yours, and I won't complain... Much,"

With that, he follows after Lawrence... Fully prepared to keep this going for a few hours longer at least.

And really, neither of them would have wanted it any other way.

[tiredandoptimistic]

It really is so interesting how Amanda and Lawrence's traps were structured so differently while still being fundamentally built around the same premise: will you kill someone else to save what matters to you?

Amanda was put under extreme temporal pressure and basically forced to choose or die right at this very moment; by the time she realized the man she was about to cut into was still alive, she was already set on doing whatever the fuck it took to get out of there before the timer ran down. Contrast this with Lawrence; who had a full six hours in that bathroom with Adam where he could get to know him, searching for any clue or crack that could get them both out alive.

Notice how at the beginning, Adam never asks Lawrence not to kill him and Lawrence never tries to reassure him that he won't; it's taken for granted that of course he wouldn't do that when they have six whole hours to figure this shit out. Still, once that clock runs down, Lawrence makes the same choice Amanda did. It's easy to feel confident that you'd never kill someone when you're given just enough hope to believe that there's an alternative.

This contrast is also interesting when you examine their demeanors throughout their traps. Amanda wakes up and immediately panics, much like Adam; but the ticking clock forces her to enter a state of heightened focus. Once she makes her choice to live she sticks to it, and her eyes become the only point of stillness in a room racked with chaotic editing. Lawrence, on the other hand begins the film acting oh so calm and superior; not wasting his time on panic because he knows logically that it won't help. Still, once he hears his daughter on the phone, panic is all he's got to fall back on. Even when he starts making those sacrifices like Jigsaw wants by shooting Adam and cutting off his foot; he's clearly unstable, basically falling apart in desperation.

And then there's Adam; the observer who's forced to live or die by the will of a man he'd previously treated only as a distant pawn. He thrives by removing himself from the situation, and so he was left with no agency except for the six hours in which he could possibly win over Lawrence. Which he does! Lawrence and Adam come to rely on each other in that trap, and even though Lawrence does shoot him that bond doesn't really break.

So many of the other traps are about making someone do something harmful or dangerous to yourself, but Lawrence and Amanda are the ones forced to hurt somebody else and I just think that's neat.

[shut-up-hope]

i cant stop thinking about how the chains could symbolize the effects of society's queerphobia on queer people and how it figuratively - or literally, in adam and lawrence's case - chains us down and stops us from being able to escape horrible circumstances - be it a queerphobic family/friend group, toxic internet space, believing you will go to hell for being queer, internalized queerphobia, etc.

both adam and lawrence, despite having different backgrounds, wake up chained in the same dirty, old bathroom. they have to overcome several tasks that jigsaw gave them in order to escape. however, only lawrence manages to escape by sawing his foot off; adam is left behind with a promise that lawrence won't be able to fulfill: to be rescued. i will dive into how i interpret this.

adam and lawrence ending up in the same circumstance despite their many differences can symbolize the fact that, despite all queer people coming from different places, we all have one experience in common: having to fight for our lives, to break our chains; but none of us share the same future.

the way i interpret lawrence leaving adam behind is that sometimes the queer people around you will find self acceptance before you will. sometimes you will stay stuck in queerphobic spaces/internalized queerphobia because you either dont have the right tools to break those chains or you dont want to take the risk and put yourself through harm in order to find a safe space, or both.

tl;dr i interpret the adam and lawrence's chains as symbolism for the effects of society's queerphobia. lawrence sawing his own foot off to escape symbolizes queer people who are able to escape queerphobic spaces; adam remaining behind symbolizes the queer people who remain in queerphobic spaces because they do not have the tools to help them escape.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Supporting them - Amanda, John, Mark and Lawrence

warning : angst, hurt/comfort, cuddling, kissing, mentioning of self-harm

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amanda : The sweet but addicted Amanda is punished by life and resurrected by Jigsaw to start a new life. But this is easier said than done since she tasted the metal and the blood, something has broken inside her and has come together in the form of emotionality and emotional outbursts, all under the cover of fear that she will not be able to live up to John or be left alone by him. Which is why, especially after Mexico and the first game, she seemed all the more nervous, but her partner was there to help her. Whether it was just words of praise or reassurance when the black-haired girl was too nervous. A hand on her shoulder or on her, ,,Just breathe it will be fine" she heard the voice of her lover when she felt her emotions boiling over. A hug behind closed doors and the encouraging gestures. A small snack or just a look was enough to tell her that everything would be alright. They are small things but they help her immensely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John : Jigsaw himself, as strong and effective as his actions are, is vulnerable when reduced to a human being. An elderly man who has terminal cancer and is dying of it. gets robbed of life for changing other people. And yet. But he had his favorite. His partner who helped him with everything Amanda couldn't help with. Sitting together on the couch in his house in the evenings, one hand resting on his in his lap. Showering him with stories of better times and telling him how good he was. That everything was going to be fine, making him warm tea and getting his medication ready. Maybe even try to force him to sleep and continue the drawings. Do everything so that he didn't overexert himself, he had suffered enough. ,,Don't worry John, we'll manage...your work will go on until the end" he heard the words and a small smile came to his lips as he looked at the person with love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark : The policeman, scarred by the life of the bear trap and the death of his sister, had lost everything for a time in his life. Alcohol was his best and only friend until he met not only John but also his lover. The thoughts of the darkness that surrounded him were not only tinged with brutality and a slight arrogance, but also with devotion. He loved the little gestures you did for him. A coffee in the evening, a little note, a hug when he came home and a cuddle when his mornings were hard. ,,My strong policeman... you are everything Mark, understand? I will always help you," said his favorite and hugged the older one. The older one replied that he was glad to have someone still worth loving but for everything that had happened he was grateful to have his partner. Someone he could kiss, someone who was there for him, someone he could trust after everything that had happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lawrence: The divorce from his wife, the loss of his daughter, the death of his friend Adams and the loss of his mentor and his failure with Jill. It was a time when he needed help, help to deal with his body and the loss of his leg. But it was also a time when he met his angel, his partner who not only helped him cope with his prosthesis but also with the process of his daughter. The nights were usually longer and he was afraid that the plans would not turn out right. But when he felt the reassuring hand of his darling on his shoulder, smelled coffee and felt a warm blanket around him. ,,Don't get cold, sweetie... go to sleep, I'll stay with you okay," he heard the voice and smiled slightly. They were small cares and yet they were gestures that showed him that nothing was in vain. He still had hope and love by his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@callmeklarise

[real-odark]

yeah ok "medical malpractice"

[ID: A digital drawing of Adam and Lawrence from Saw (2004). Lawrence, to the right, crosses his arms and smirks. His speech bubble reads from a Youtube comment by Jaques Francais, "I study medicine and I am impressed by your arm veins! Would love to puncture them!" Adam, on the left, crosses his legs and holds up a recording camera at Lawrence. He squints and blushes at him, taken aback at what Lawrence is saying. End ID.]

[arealtrashact]

Mind if I ask if there was anything that led you to cast the characters as the specific animals you did for the Saw zodiac piece?? Like I KNOW you had to work with the animals within the Chinese zodiac, but...why the goat for Kramer, the monkey for Amanda, and so forth??? Was it based on birthdays or character traits, or something like that??

I really like that piece and I want to give u a platform to talk about it more lmao

Like you said, my choices were limited to the animals within the zodiac. It was a fun little challenge mixing and matching each animal to a character that I felt suited them (personality-wise in some cases, appearance-wise in others.) More under the cut, for those interested.

Amanda (Monkey) - Jumps between mischievously playful and sadistically cruel. In possession of ten clever little fingers, perfect for rigging traps…

John (Goat) - Stubborn + stoutly adheres to his beliefs. Sporting a pair of curving horns that play into the spiral motif very nicely. Enjoys playing God and doling out punishment, much like a certain other horn-ed fellow who spends his days disciplining ‘sinners’. 

Jill (Sow) - Seemed like an easy choice considering the Tuck family’s pig farm. I also wanted to call back to Gideon and what could have been.

Hoffman (Tiger) - Large, imposing and solitary. (Almost) always one step ahead. Tigers having illusory eyes on the backs of their ears to throw off stalking predators feels extremely Hoffman to me. Getting the jump on him is nearly impossible. Nearly. 

Strahm (Dog) - Not just any dog, a GSD. Sharp as a whip, wary as a watchman. Commonly used by law enforcement. Loyal to those he considers friends, aloof and standoffish to just about everybody else...

Cecilia (Dragon) - Much like a dragon, Cecilia would be right at home curled atop a mountain of treasure. Even what she promises / advertises seems mythical - the kind of miracle that only exists within a fantasy...

Logan (Ox) - ‘It’s cause you’re always in that damn BARN.’ A farm animal through and through. He's John’s heir apparent, a faint outline of him, complete with a similarly horned silhouette.

Lawrence (Rabbit) - Larry was one of the ‘lucky’ ones, and what's more lucky than a rabbit's foot? ( Do you think he carries his severed foot around on his keys in this AU ? )

Adam (Rat) - I mean…

Schenk (Snake) - People will probably assume that I picked a snake because he’s ‘deceitful’ (I actually think his rage was justified. ACAB.) but I actually just wanted to incorporate spirals onto him in an organic way. Snakes, with their intricate scale patterns, allowed me to do just that.

Who’s left? Zep Hindle screams 'chicken' to me and Lynn has beautiful flowing hair that lends itself perfectly to a horsey.

🤙

[zer0point5ive]

[leighcest]

i don't smoke (except for when i'm missing you.)

--

1.7k words

adam faulkner-stanheight x lawrence gordon

tropes: m/m, hurt / no comfort, mlm, ghost!adam faulkner-stanheight, slight headcanons, trans!adam faulkner-stanheight, slowburn(?), they're in love they just don't realize it, no happy ending, angst, religious mention once, chainshipping, suggested divorce between ali and larry, lawrence is an apprentice, canon timeline, not betaread we die like adam faulkner-stanheight

note: the title is a reference to the song i don't smoke by mitski! uh yeah! please enjoy:). posted on my ao3.

tags: @mychem1calbr0mance , @st4rcryptid

Every night had the same premise. Lawrence goes to sleep, dreams about Adam, and wakes up.

Tonight is no different. Lawrence is sawing his leg off, but it never comes off. He’s just pressing the blade against his leg and sawing. When he blinks, he has a gun pointed to Adam. Lawrence tries to stop himself from firing it, as if it would change what really happened. But it doesn’t. He puts seven rounds into Adam this time.

Adam looks so young. So painfully young. Because he was. The most youthful he had ever looked. Larry thinks about how that was the youngest and oldest he’ll ever look. And Lawrence took that away from him. Took him away from his parents, his friends, his siblings (if he had any). He murdered Adam. Shot and left him to rot. Took away his life. And now he’s gone. Because of Lawrence. He looked petrified.

He blinks one more time and Adam is bashing in his skull instead of Zepp’s. He looked even younger, even more afraid. and with that, he jerks awake.

His temples are near-exploding and his sheets are soaked. Lawrence’s chair is just far enough it’s painful to grab it and as he collapses in it, his will to shower is now gone.

A ghost dripping blood blurs his way into Lawrence’s vision. A gnawing feeling of guilt curls itself into the blond’s gut. It bubbles and hardens into a deeper feeling similar to rage. At himself, at Adam, whoever his mind can reminisce of. Somehow, Adam dissipating into a soft smoke makes Lawrence’s grief worse.

Lawrence tries to convince himself that Diana is sleeping in her room across the hall, to fill the lonely empty inside of him. It doesn’t work. He knows that Diana is at Alison’s with her new boyfriend. He knows it’s just him. Alone with the ghost of his most guilt ridden victim following him.

The shower dulls the ache in his head and the warmth consuming him like the fires of Hell themself. His foot aches, despite the fact it’s alone, rotting in a bathroom with the decaying corpse of Adam. John hadn’t told Lawrence to come in, so he has all day to pity himself.

His hair drips water down his back that makes him shiver. He can feel Adam’s presence (or the lack thereof) in the room with him. Lawrence wants nothing more than to call out. To scream at him. He closes his laptop and shoves his work to the side.

An empty balcony clouded with smoke is Lawrence’s favorite place as of recent. The sting of cigarette smoke reminds him of the irony of his job. The irony of it all. He’s a cancer doctor, who’s smoking. He’s a doctor who saves people, yet couldn’t save the one person that mattered most. He’s supposed to save people, yet he kills them in his freetime.

“Larry.” Adam chirps out. He’s smiling. “Thought you didn’t smoke?”

Lawrence’s face pulls into a mix of annoyance and longing. He sighs deeply before thinking of a response. “I didn’t. And then I did. Simple as that.”

Adam seems to take this answer before the corners of his lips quirk up once again. “You’re kinda pathetic, y’know?” He smirked like the Joker himself possessed Adam’s facial muscles. “I mean, really Lawrence. Smoking for someone you knew for six hours before you killed him? You didn’t even know me.”

“Exactly. I didn’t know you. Nobody knows you. You told me you were alive and nothing, and you were right.” Lawrence had to pause when he felt bile creep up his throat. “That’s why I feel guilty.”

That reasoning shuts Adam up quickly. Lawrence swears he heard the boy mumble a soft apology before sitting down. “I don’t blame you. I know that… Everything that happened was for a reason. I know that. I know that whatever happened to me was for the better.” He started. “I would have done the same in a heartbeat. I wish someone would have done that for me.” Adam chuckled, but it sounded more sad and pathetic than happy. Then again, everything Adam did was sad and pathetic. John was right.

The younger sits down and looks over at Lawrence. “Are you actually a ghost or did I make you up?” The blonde whispers. It was supposed to be to Adam, but came out like he was talking to no one in particular, and maybe he was. Adam hums in response. “I’m whatever you want me to be, handsome.” He winked. The older man clearly was not thrilled with this response. Adam could tell. He made a noise adjacent to clearing his throat. “Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that I’m not mad at you. Y’know, just… don’t leave me alone wondering where you are.” Adam said softer now. His smirk had melted into a soft and genuine smile.

Lawrence didn’t like how it tugged at him. He rubbed his eyes and put out the cigarette he was smoking, before staring blankly over the balcony as he nodded at Adam’s previous comment.

Paperwork was boring, and that’s all Lawrence could really do except for sleep. So he slept.

When Lawrence opens his eyes, Adam's decayed face floods his view. He's not stupid. It's been two months, he wouldn't look this dead. His jaw is eaten away and his body is pale. Adam's skin like the moonlight reflected off his window.

Lawrence squeezes his eyes closed. When he decides it's been long enough, he unclenches his body. His eyes slowly open. Adam is laying on his side, and his hand is propping up his head.

The older man desperately tries to cool the warm, tingling feeling that Adam's shit eating smirk is causing him.

"Hey, doc." His whiny voice pierces Lawrence's ears. Adam's voice to Lawrence is like a whistle to dogs or the wind humans used to hear. Lawrence feels his throat desperately constrict as he begs it to swallow his shame. "Adam. It's far too late for this."

He's still not sure if the Adam that's in his nightmares is the one haunting him, but he tolerates them both, so why fuss?

Adam stays silent, simply observing Lawrence and seemingly admiring the empty pit he leaves in Lawrence's stomach. His smirk transformed into a softer, more playfully smirk. "Sick of me already? Jeez, Lar, no wonder you left me."

A sour taste other than smoke fills Lawrence's mouth. "Don't call me that." The man said sternly, trying to hide the meek shame in his voice. Lawrence let out a breath he was holding. Talking to each other felt like walking on eggshells. Or landmines.

Looking over at Lawrence, the shorter stays unmoving. Just taking slow and deep breaths. He blinks. Adam is gone, the only remnant being a dent in Lawrence’s pillow, and the faint reminisce of a “sorry” on Larry’s lips.

Remembering Adam is cold. Touching (or the lack thereof) the ghost of Adam is colder. Lawrence is currently hugging the air, gripping it like a vice. His arms are loosely hung around Adam’s neck, and his nose is digging into his collarbone.

This is extra humiliating, because Lawrence is hovering over the air because he can’t touch Adam without his skin ripping through his hands and into the air he breathes.

Adam’s shirt is cotton. It’s soft and wet and soaked in blood. Lawrence tries to grip it but he watches as his wounded shoulder puffs into gas before resolving back. This makes the blond feel worse.

Ugly sobs rip painfully through Lawrence’s throat as it tries to close to ward off the whines and cries. He cries until he thinks he might throw up and some more after that.

He resists the urge to slam his fist desperately into a wall until his knuckles are shreds of skin and muscle. As he clenches his fist where Adam’s hair would be, the ghost whispers shushes to him. Promising he isn’t angry anymore, that Lawrence shouldn’t be either. Lawrence swears up and down he feels ghostly hands sliding up and down his back. The eldest gasps harshly for air.

Lawrence can’t remember the last time he’s cried like this, surely before Diana was born. Maybe even before Alison and him met.

“You’re fine, Lawrence, Jesus Christ!” Adam whispers, unsure of what to do. “Just take a deep breath… let it all out. I can take it… I can take it. I can take your anger, I’ll keep it safe inside me.” If Lawrence knew any better, he would think Adam was speaking gibberish. However, at that moment, Lawrence listened, leaning against Adam and wailing. He wasn’t even sure why. He drove his fist into Adam, even though he couldn’t feel it.

“Yeah, that’s it. If you need to be mean, you can be mean to me. Just lean on me as you break my heart.” Adam said softly, listening as the other tried to mumble stupidly about how he was fine. “Oh, don’t fucking bullshit me. If you were fine, you wouldn’t be crying and punching a ghost.” He scoffed to which Lawrence scoffed too.

The doctor didn’t have the strength to fight back, so he just let himself weep against Adam.

“I want to know more about you, Adam.” Lawrence said, scribbling his signature on various pieces of paper. The brunet perked up.

“What do you want to know?” He smiled up at Lawrence. “Anything.” The eldest whispered.

Adam looked up at the ceiling. “Well, I grew up catholic. I dropped out of highschool. I wanted to be a vet. I took up photography because it was the only thing my brothers weren’t doing. Oh, yeah, I have twelve brothers, I’m the youngest. I overdosed on depression medicine when I was nine. My nose bleeds randomly. I can’t really sleep. I’ve always wanted to fall in love.” Adam listed random items about himself.

Lawrence hums in response. He tries to get choked up. “What about you?” Adam asks.

“I also grew up catholic. I wanted to be in the army growing up. I tried to take my life at 19.” The silence after that was tense enough from Lawrence to make the quiet awkward and calm enough from Adam to make it nice. Lawrence thought before responding again. “And, I’ve also always wanted to fall in love.”

note: rb & comments are always appriciated 💛

[this-tastes-lemony]

Do u think Lawrence had trouble falling asleep knowing he left Adam in that bathroom and couldn’t go back for him? Do you think he’d wake up in the night screaming, remembering the sound the bullet made when it hit Adam’s shoulder? Do you think he sees someone wearing a white tee and jeans and wants to throw up when he remembers what he did? Do you think he flinches when he hears the name Adam?

Do you think he regrets it, or do you think he knows it was the right thing to do?

[quinngefail]

Tbh I was kinda just into the sketch look on these so :) maybe I'll fully finish this one or that one at some point, but. That's for later me lmao

So uh!! Was workin' from a request from @adamaus, for some comfort after waking from a nightmare..... Had a few ideas, to say the least-

Oh and I'm very open to more requests!! Can be vague or specific, or anything between :]

Some commentary + scrapped piece below the cut:

Okay so :) going through the pieces, in numerical order, from left to right:

1: Not the first sobbing session and absolutely not the last B') He's just a little bit turbo fucked up from that whole Jim Saw thing. JUST A LITTLE BIT 🤏

2: This was one of the first to come to mind for this!! Them just going out to the living room and putting a movie on, something I imagine they do pretty frequently to decompress and distract from things... And then one (or both) seems to always inevitably fall back asleep on the couch lol, which is obviously depicted here-

Then you got Lawrence looking at him. Just worrying

(Ft. His nightly guilt session 😋)

3: Okay I had to do at least one that had some humor in it lmao... Was imagining Lawrence softly speaking against Adam's head with these gentle affirmations. But not fully realizing that he may or may not be squeezing Adam just a little too tight there HSKGK

Lawrence Voice: I love you so much and I'm not going anywhere and I'm so sorry for everything I've done and I only ever want the best for you. I'm so sorry again for everything I've done and it was all my fault and I understand if you hate me. I'd hate me too if I were you

Impact font: ADAM IS DYING

4: NOT TOO MUCH TO SAY ON THIS ONE... Lawrence also getting his comfort is just very important to me orz

5: Okay this one and the movie one are defo my favorites here...... Just imagining Adam being this cute little bitch getting the blanket and making some tea and being all >8^} about it-

Das love, babey !!

6: Nothing much to say on this one either... They are just comfy cozy and Sad lol

Then uh, scrapped piece- just didn't really love this one, but. Posting it regardless for y'all 😤

That is all, thank you for viewing and reading !!! 🫶

[faulkner-gordon]

“Hey, Ali.”

He’d smiled when he said it, warm and soft and for a moment she believed that he loved her again, that they could make this work, that it would all be okay. But then she glanced to his right, at the boy in his arms, and the spell was broken. She suddenly couldn’t get her feet to move, couldn’t bring herself to get closer to them. She offered to leave, she wanted so desperately to leave. But Lawrence said she could stay, that they should talk, that Adam sleeps like a brick so it’s okay. It wasn’t okay, it really wasn’t okay, but she stayed, because he asked her to. Because her husband wanted her around.

It didn’t last long. She barely got a sentence out (“Lawrence, I don’t think this is—) before Adam started crying in his sleep. He was sobbing, grasping at Lawrence and babbling, and Ali could only make out some of what he was saying: “I need you”s and “don’t leave me”s and a repetition of her husband’s name. It was like Lawrence forgot she was even there. He turned to Adam immediately, shushing and cooing and petting his hair and Ali could swear she heard “darling” escape his lips.

She hated Adam, in that moment. Lawrence didn’t even notice when she left.

[coolmanjohnny]

SAW: (unrated) rant

Okay. I just watched the unrated version of Saw (2004) in theaters. So for some reason, they alter the ending for the unrated version of Saw. I have no idea why they chose to do this. I didn't see much discussion going over the details so I thought I'd go over it and why I think its inferior to the original cut. (Forgive me if I seem nitpick-y, I just love the original film so much haha. Totally fine if you like the unrated ver., I'm just sharing my thoughts here.)

To start, the unrated is advertised as a version with more gore/blood, which it does fine on that part. There are a few extra seconds of shots, for instance, the scene where Amanda is sifting through organs, some of the crime scene photos, and the wire trap maze is slightly longer. Here is a good article that goes over the Director's Cut with more details if you are interested. (I believe the Director's Cut is the same, if not very similar, to the unrated version? Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.) Also, I think the colors are also less blue? I can't confirm this though. I believe there may be a few other details changed as well, but they're not super relevant. Feel free to share any ones I'm missing just for fun though.

These extra shots are fine, thumbs up emoji. My problem starts and ends with the final moments of Saw (unrated). This is Tumblr. You all know the ending to Saw and are probably obsessed with it. It's incredibly impactful and angsty. Its one of my favorite ending sequences of all time. I still think about Adam being left to die alone often. RIP.

Now, lets go over what's changed in Saw (unrated)'s ending:

Some of the final lines are cut out. (Why???)

For some reason, they cut the line where Adam asks, "Am I gonna be okay?" and Larry turns back and says, "I wouldn't lie to you." Why would they do this? I don't know. I can only speculate. Maybe they thought that it contradicted with Lawrence's character, since he is in fact a liar/adulterer? Maybe they thought it was too "hopeful"? Homophobia? (joke)

I think that it's really a shame, because it makes Larry much more likable imo. This one moment is representative of his character development in the film. There are a lot of complex emotions tied with that one line. For once, Lawrence isn't lying to Adam. He truly does want to help. At the same time, you can tell that he feels uncertain. He doesn't know if he actually will be able to make it back in time (if even at all).

Notice how he responds to Adam's question in a roundabout way. He doesn't know if Adam will be okay.

In a way, Jigsaw's trap did work. Lawrence learned empathy. LMAO. It is also makes Adam so much more tragic, any last glimmers of hope he had left get ripped away as soon as he realizes that Jigsaw isn't who he thought it was. They are both fucked. (Ignore that Saw 3D exists for a second here, lol. I definitely think that the original implication here was that Larry is screwed. Either Kramer gets to him, or he bleeds out.)

Here is the original scene for reference:

2. The end credits are changed.

Saw ends with Adam's haunting screams bleeding into the end credits. There's about 20-30 seconds of silence/very subtle music. Then, it leads into the song "Bite The Hand that Bleeds" by Fear Factory. I just LOVE the angst.

Now, lets see what the unrated version is like. (I had to really dig to find this lol.) Obviously, there is no longer licensed music. It instead plays the "Saw theme". (I believe Hello Zepp/Overture is the official name of the song?)

It's...fine. (Once again, forgive me for nitpicking. I'm starting to think that I may be overreacting a bit, lol.)

I sort of understand why they would change the licensed music. It makes the first film feel more "connected" with the sequels; now they all have matching theme songs. (Another idea is that they simply didn't get the rights back to the original song for the re-release. I'd have to do more research on this.) However, it still makes me sad, lol. I just love how edgy and aggressively 2000s the original end credits feel. It matches the film's tone so well imo. The filmography of Saw reminds me a lot of early 2000s nu-metal music videos (unique colors, over-edited to hell, etc.).

I want to really emphasize the importance of film preservation in this post. Thankfully, the original theatrical cut of Saw is pretty easily accessible. (However, this isn't the case for all films. Star Wars is probably the most famous example.) I am just a little saddened that some first-time viewers will end up watching this version of the film without being aware of these changes. I love Saw so much you guys