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bartsugsy · 8 years ago

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can i add my voice to the people wanting to know what the bartsugsy theory is... I have my own theory which involves vic volunteering to raise the baby so it'll be interesting to hear what other people are thinking

Ok. Ok. I’m gonna write this bc Lena @stolemyhheart keeps taking the piss out of me for having written more Rebecca meta since Thursday than Robron meta lmao.

It’s not so much a theory as it is an observation (gotta love the Drought). This really was all constructed entirely with @itwasjustmisplaced and so is at least 50% hers too.

(Although it does delve into theorising too bc why not, at this point)

This also ties very closely into the idea that all of the stories that started with SSW are starting to come to a close - because that’s where this started.

“This” being - for this entire robron storyline - both Robert planning to propose and Rebecca’s interference.

But beyond that, and where this theory comes into play - Adam and Victoria have been consistently involved in the story, on the fringes of the action, even in the ways that don’t make sense, whilst at the exact same time ultimately having a very similar story of their own play out.

Which, to me, is suspicious.

And it started with SSW.

A pre-warning: this is so Extra that I feel like I should be embarrassed about it but whatever, I’m gonna live up to my URL and my love of reading too deeply into things so just… humour me, I guess.

Here we go:

The Bartsugsy Theory

The general gist of the Bartsugsy Theory is that Adam and Vic have been not just involved in Robert and Aaron’s storylines, while also having their own very similar storyline running parallel and will soon be on the sideline of a storyline that directly parallels a past Vadam storyline (the Johnny/Vanessa baby daddy swap). The ultimate purpose is to say that there are too many similarities in play for this not to be purposeful on some level and as such, potentially leading somewhere in-plot.

There’s a lot of different threads to this, so let’s take it one at a time.

1. Vadam currently have a storyline that directly mirrors Robron’s storyline

Now, we know that robron often have storylines that are basically vadam storylines amped up to 12 (like the wedding and impending trial, for instance), but never have we seen them run simultaneously.

Upon examination, it’s like looking at the robron storyline through a funhouse mirror - it involves babies, break ups, drunk cheating with an ex, miscommunication from the start.

Victoria wants a baby and Adam gets slowly, sort of reluctantly on board. Adam finds out he can’t have kids and flips out. He and Vic try to work through it and really struggle with the idea. Adam and Vic sort of break up, get back together again and then break up again, and then Adam gets drunk and kisses an also drunk Vanessa, who he has cheated on Vic before with. She looks horrified and he immediately backs off and apologises. Adam literally sort of just loses the plot a bit, Vic finds out despite Adam’s efforts to keep it secret and she breaks up with him.

Aaron is in jail and Robert is finding it hard (and doesn’t realise that Aaron is finding it harder). Aaron develops a two week spice addiction, Robert is unable to see him for 24 hours and then when he finally does, sees a person who is not Aaron his husband. Robert flips out, gets drunk, tries to destroy their future home by trashing the mill and then tries to destroy their future by sleeping with Rebecca, who may or may not also be drunk we just don’t know. Rebecca gets pregnant and Robert tries to keep it quiet, and then when he eventually succeeds, tells Aaron anyway because he feels guilty, because character development (for another post this is gonna be long enough as it is) and they stay together.

There are a lot of similarities, and that has helped the robron plot move along in numerous ways.

Which brings us to:

2. Adam and Victoria have been on the fringes of this Robron plot since it started with SSW.

Because it’s not just that we have these two storylines running concurrently, which in and of itself is weird but not cause for actual suspicion, it’s that they’re also so entertwined - and only in one direction.

So, we start at the beginning. This story started with Rebecca -

(Well, no, technically it started with Andy, but we don’t have all day and he’s largely irrelevant to the story at this point - the biggest catalyst for most of the things that have happened in this storyline, outside of the proposal and wedding, is Rebecca)

Robert wanted revenge on Chrissie, so he called in secret weapon Rebecca White. A super solid Robert Sugden plan, I think we can all agree. He’s so great at plans. What a Star Planner.

Rebecca arrives at the village in her plotcopter on 11th October and her arrival starts the set up of a number of things - mainly, the fact that she and Robert used to be in a relationship and clearly still wants to be, the fact that she is easily manipulated by Robert, the Lachlan/SSW stuff and the fact that Robert is being… somewhat open with Aaron about why Rebecca is in town, but isn’t disclosing the fact that he got her there and is keeping her around by flirting heavily with her and playing with her apparently still present feelings for him.

Two days later, on the 13th, its Holly’s funeral. A few notable things happen here - Aaron and Rebecca meet for the first time and Rebecca sees Aaron and Robert together for the first time. Robert becomes markedly less kind to Rebecca where Aaron is involved.

This also happens to be the episode with the first ever Bartsugsy scene - a scene that literally sets up SSW and Robert’s plan to propose to Aaron.

Skipping ahead just a few days (although Vic is still very much involved as Robert’s one confidante as he plans to propose) - during SSW we have Vic and Adam coming to the aid of Robert and Aaron (because Vic had wanted to help Doug look for Ashley). It’s immense, it’s the most epic bartsugsy stuff in existence (not that there’s much competition smh) and it continues into the hospital scenes throughout the week and then in the Monday aftermath episode.

So… all this to say, Victoria and Adam were embroiled in Robert and Aaron’s storyline at the same time as Rebecca came along. Quite literally at the start of the storyline.

Rebecca’s function in the storyline? A catalyst for Lachlan to try to take his revenge on Robert, leading to the kidnapping plot, and tying in the continuing plot of the Sugdens vs The Whites.

Let’s flash forward some time, to the past few months, where this storyline obviously took a turn into what it’s become now. During this time, through November and December, as things are being set up, Robert and Aaron are having difficulties with Rebecca and jealousy and Robert’s manipulations of her and Adam and Victoria decide that they want to start trying for a baby.

I’ve said this before, but I’ve been sort of looking at this current leg of the story as being pillared by two arguments - the January argument just before they were about to get married and the reveal argument, with the midway turning point being the Incident.

Here are some ways in which Adam and Vic continue to be present throughout the story:

In the january argument, Victoria is the one who interupts, who tries to talk both Aaron and Robert down and who ultimately sees Aaron beating up Kasim.

We have more bartsugsy scenes during the wedding and as Aaron goes off to prison and then, in our first instance of one of Vadam being a part of Robron’s story even when it doesn’t make sense, Adam gets roped into doing up the Mill. Adam, who is running the Scrapyard by himself (yes ok with the help of Robert, but he also has Liv and his own business and an impending breakdown to deal with) while Aaron is away, still finds time to help Ronnie refurb a whole house.

And why? What does it do, beyond put Adam in Robert’s orbit? It allows Adam and Ronnie to bond but they could have done that anyway. It makes no sense, why Adam would be given this particular role.

What it does mean is that, on the night of the incident, Adam is there to witness Robert have his meltdown and report back to Victoria, in hearing range of Rebecca (presumably as a way to make her ditch Ross as soon as she can, to go take care of him, because she’s still in love with him.)

In the second instance of Vadam being where they don’t belong, we have Victoria’s sudden friendship with Rebecca, which is only just now coming to a head, now that she knows about the baby being Robert’s. She has acted as Rebecca’s emotional mouthpiece, the one person who was championing Rebecca keeping the baby - likely coming from a place of suddenly not about to have her own. Given how supportive Chrissie has been, she could have played that role and it would have made far more sense - but instead, we have Victoira. Suddenly Rebecca’s best friend.

And agian, for what purpose? Because character-wise, it makes no sense? I think we really have yet to see how Vic might be used in this plot, but she’s very much present.

Even in the reveal ep, we get Vic and Adam helping Robert and Aaron move in, entirely seperately now that they’ve split. We have Aaron using Vic’s current situation to make an unknowing slight at Robert and make things harder for Robert. Then later we have Robert relying on both Adam and Victoria to look out for Aaron.

Vic and Adam see first hand the toll that Aaron being in prison takes on Robert, we have them playing a much more active role in keeping him calm than Chas does, for instance, or Diane (who is absent almost entirely). Since Aaron’s been out, we’ve had numerous sweet scenes of Aaron and Victoria talking - the two wronged spouses, in a way (although both contributed to the problems in their marraige as well, I’d argue)

They are everywhere, all over this story. On the flip side, Robert and Aaron have barely even dipped their toes into Vadam’s story, despite there being opportunity and reason.

Now, again, none of this is particularly unusual - Vic and Adam are typically individually Robert and Aaron’s go-to confidantes. It doesn’t tend to happen all that regularly though - and Vic and Adam are linked to the story through the Whites (or Ronnie, in Adam’s case) as much as they are Aaron and Robert.

Taking into consideration the big similarities between this story and Vic and Adam’s current story and just how closely everything is entertwined and has been since the start makes me think it was absolutely deliberate, though.

Which brings us to the final point:

3. Robert and Aaron are reliving Victoria and Adam’s past and no one has said anything

So, I’ve saidbefore that Aaron and Robert tend to live through stories that Vic and Adamhave already dealt with (and usually in ways that carry more narrativeweight).

This though? Thissort of takes the cake.

A refresher on theJohnny storyline, for those who may not remember:

Adam and Vic argue(about their engagement, I believe), they sort of break up don’t break up but vic does break off their engagement (ah fact checking), Adam bangs Vanessa,VIctoria and Adam get back together immediately afterwards and Vanessa fallspregnant. Vanessa also happened to be sleeping with Kirin at the same time andso did not know who the father of her baby was. Victoria finds out about theone night stand during hers and Adam’s housewarming party, which takes place onthe day they move in together. It seems as though it’s Adam’s and Victoriaultimately decides to support Adam in becoming a father to baby Johnny untilultimately, they discover that the baby was in fact Kirin’s all along.

This storyline?

Robert and Aaronargued, they sort of but defintiely don’t break up, Robert bangs Rebecca,Robert and Aaron make up immediately afterwards and Rebecca falls pregnant.Rebecca also happens to be sleeping with Ross at the same time but apparentlyknows exactly who the father is. Aaron finds out when Robert tells him, Roberthaving cancelled their housewarming party, on the day they move in together.Aaron is, according to spoilers, going to try and support the idea of Robertbecoming a father to this baby.

Now…. if nothingelse, even if you don’t think the level of involvement Adam and Victoriacurrently have in this storyline is unusual, or the fact that Vadam’s fertilityissues have almost provided the backdrop to it - this, it’s pretty damn clear,is intentional.

The thing that really gives this credence, for me, is the housewarmingparty. For Aaron and Robert, that plot point is entirely unnecessary. Theydecide to plan a party a few days after they come home from a 5 week trip, onthe day they’re due to move into their house, when they don’t seem to evenstart either packing their things or planning their party until the day before.The party is cancelled so that Robert can come clean – and it feels like adirect shout out to what Adam should have done and the fact that these twostorylines are incredibly similar.

Saying this, the one difference – the thing that I’ve convenientlyskipped over so far?

The Johnny story revolves around a DNA test. Adam thinks he’s Johnny’sdad because Kirin’s dad Rakesh changes the DNA test results to make it so (ashe doesn’t want his teenage son to have to take responsibility of an infant).

In this story? One of the biggest complaints is that the show made adirect and very clear point to say that Rebecca and Ross slept together on the dayseither side of the Incident

(and probably more than that? They’re two young adults with no ties, whyshouldn’t they be spending their time boning – but canon very clearly statesthey banged at least those two times)

But that Rebecca seemed to just know that the baby was Robert’s – and everysingle person has believed her so far.

But of course, you know Vic and Adam have been going through their ownfertility story – as a consequence, both of them have brought up Johnny andAdam’s feelings towards him on multiple occasions. That story relates closelyto their current story, as we now know that Adam couldn’t have fathered Johnnyat all.

Adam and Vic, who are very much engrained in Robert and Aaron’s story,one of whom are always there during the big moments.

Adam and Vic, who are now going to know about the situation.

You see, my instinct is that all that needs to happen to get Robert toask for a DNA test is for either Adam or Vic to talk about it – and why wouldn’tthey? Why wouldn’t this be their first concern??? It literally only happened tothem last year.

Victoria, who is now about to have pointed issues with Rebecca for lying.

And Adam, who we know is going to be sharing scenes with Robert andAaron going forward, who, it’s hinted, might crash at the Mill for a bit whilehe has nowhere else to go.

I’m not saying that it’s not true,that Robert isn’t the Dad. I’m just saying that it’s suspicious that this isthe one big detail from Adam’s storyline that is absent and glaringly,incredibly so. I mean, I just can’t understand why we’ve never seen any medicalprofessionals in this story, why every piece of information we know about thepregnancy is straight from Rebecca’s mouth. It doesn’t make sense and it makesit feel unreliable.

And I don’t know how they could have this storyline continue and not haveeither Victoria or Adam talk about their experiences with Johnny – where theycouldn’t trust the DNA test but ultimately it came through.

It’s suspicious to me, as many things in this storyline are.

I feel like Vadam going through a similar situation, having the abilityto very closely emphasise with Robron in a number of ways, gives me hope thatthe four of them will help fix one another, that they can play sounding boardin ways that make sense, that they can bond over the similarities of thesituations they find themselves in.

And that ultimately, Victoria and Adam can use their experiences toshape the future of this storyline. Because honestly, why else would they be socontinually involved?

#this is almost 3000 words long and i've actively restrained myself #this isn't even all of it #anyway enjoy my slow descent into literal madness #bartsugsy #emmerdale meta #ed #answering anons

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thefloatingstone · 5 years ago

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We’ve gone from Self-Isolation to Quarantine and in some places to gradual relaxation phases, but that doesn’t stop the need for more nonsense you can watch on youtube while you wait for things to get back to normal. And recommending things and making lists are some of my favourite things to do but I have not yet figured out how to start or structure a video myself, you guys get another rambling tumblr post of things you can watch on youtube.

This time I’m once again just gonna recommend individual videos rather than full channels like I did in part 2.

Part 1

Part 2

In no particular order;

LOCAL58: The Broadcast Station that Manipulates You

I recently started watching the Nexpo channel when I went on a binge of creepy youtube videos. Most of his videos are really good although the ones where he himself goes into theory crafting can be a little asinine. However, this video is REALLY good. And before you get nervous, LOCAL58 is not a real TV station. LOCAL58 is a youtube channel created by the same guy behind the Candle Cove creepypasta. This video by Nexpo covers the various episodes of LOCAL58 and discusses them. Just be aware going in that this is abstract horror, and will probably get under your skin regardless if you’re unaffected by certain topics or not. although cw for suicide mention.

I also recommend most of the rest of this channel, although be careful where you tread. I don’t recommend his series “Disturbing things from around the internet” as it can sometimes include real life crime, abuse and such caught on security cameras. Everything else is really good tho. (although I was really annoyed by his 2 videos on KrainaGrzybowTV)

The Search for D.B. Cooper

LEMMiNO has a new video out covering one of the most unexplained crimes in the past century of the US. LEMMiNO is the guy I’ve recommended before who did videos on the Universal S. He is very down to earth and not someone prone to conspiracy or even really that fanciful of thinking. (He’s like the one person I feel covered the Dyaltov Pass incident and was confused by why this was even a mystery because if you read the Russian Autopsy reports and documents associated with the case it’s all pretty logical and easily explained)

D.B. Cooper is the name given to a man who, in 1971, hijacked an airplane with a bomb, asked for a large sum of money, and after receiving it, parachuted from the plane and was never seen or heard from again.

The Austrian Wine Poisoning | Down the Rabbit Hole

Down the Rabbit Hole also has a new video out, this time covering the Austrian Wine Poisoning event from 1985. A scandal that involved literally the entire country of Austria, affected multiple countries, and forever changed the way wine was made world wide. As someone who is generally pretty allergic to most artificial substances this one made me personally very angry. But luckily, it has a happy ending and a better world for us all... if I could drink wine which I can’t do anyway.

The Turbulent Tale of Yandere Dev - A Six Year Struggle

The Right Opinion is another channel I only recently subbed to after watching his cover on Onion Boy. I put off subbing to him simply because of his channel name and I thought it meant he would come across as smug and elitist. Luckily this seems to merely be one of those “I chose a bad channel name and now I’m stuck with it” type of situations. (IHE has a similar problem).

Anyway, I have a weird interest in bizarre internet personalities, so I’ve been enjoying his channel as he simply discusses and presents a timeline of events of certain individuals. In this video, he covers the developer behind the much maligned Yandere Simulator. It’s a tale of hubris, arrogance, immaturity, and an unwillingness to accept your own shortcomings due to ego.

Oh and there’s a meme game about Japanese school girls with anime tiddies in there as well.

The Most Relaxing Anime Ever Made | Yokohama Kaidashi Kikō

Kenny Lauderdale is a youtube channel which is slowly becoming bigger which I’m very happy to see. He exclusively covers anime and live action Japanese television no younger than the mid 90s (as is the case with YYK) and which usually never saw a release outside of Japanese Laserdisc. I do wish his videos were a little longer, but if nothing else his videos serve as an excellent starting to point to find some older and underappreciated shows... or hot garbage fires. In this episode he talks about the 2 OVA episodes made based on one of my favourite manga, Yokohama Shopping Log. A Post apocalyptic anime about an android who runs a coffee shop outside of her house, and the quiet solitude of living in a world of declining human population, brief encounters with travelers and other people, and just... existing. The anime was never released outside of Japan and is only available on Japanese VHS and laserdisc.... but hey guess what!! Somebody uploaded both episodes, subbed, to Youtube.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2HCVOH6DtA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqSTwfkobME

YMS’ slow descent into madness as he uncovers just how bullshit the Kimba Conspiracy is

I’m linking a full playlist for this one.

YMS is busy planning his review on the “live action” Lion King remake as the original 1994 movie is probably his favourite movie all time (and also self declared what made him a furry). As part of the 2 hour review, he decided to what all 2000 hours of Kimba the White Lion just to mention how The Lion King potentially stole the idea. ....until he actually watched all 2000 hours of Kimba and realised that if you actually WATCH Kimba, it has VERY little to do with the Lion King at all apart from having the same animals in them because AFRICA. Watch as one man slowly loses his mind as he realises just how stupid this conspiracy theory is, just HOW DECEITFUL and straight up LYING people can be. People who write BOOKS. People who teach LAW AT UNIVERSITIES. Because NOBODY bothered to actually watch the entire show and just parroted the “Disney stole this” lie which got started by like 2 salty fans on the internet.

The man set out to just mention how Disney stole an idea, and uncovered one of the most infuriating rabbit holes on the internet. Screaming for SOMEONE to provide him with sources or evidence.

YMS will be publishing his full Kimba documentary this month which he has said is around 2 hours long before he continues to work on the Lion King one.

Science Stories: Loch Ness eDNA results, Poop Knives, and Skeleton Lovers

TREY the Explainer has a video giving us some updates in Archeology from 2019. In this video he discusses the findings of the eDNA results conducted on the Loch Ness to see what animal DNA the lake contains which will tell us what living animals currently inhabit the lake, ancient knives made of poop and if this is a real thing that could have existed, and a skeleton couple found buried together which were at first thought to be lovers, then revealed to be both male, and then how in this instance we cannot let our modern sensibilities dictate what we WANT this burial find to be, but to look at the evidence as presented to us and place in context finds of this nature. The worst thing an archaeologist can do is look for proof to a theory they already have.

The Bizarre Modern Reality of Sonic the Hedgehog

Super Eyepatch Wolf is back and he’s here to talk to us about the very very strange existence of Sonic. a 90s rebellious “too cool for School” answer to Mario, a lost idea as the world of video games changes and culture shifted, a meme and punching bag amplified by a unique fanbase and poor quality games, a transcendence into a horrific warped idea of what he once was, and modern day and where Sonic and his fans are now. As usual Super Eyepatch Wolf knocks it out of the park.

Kokoro Wish and the Birth of a Multiverse: A Lecture on the Work of Jennifer Diane Reitz

I don’t even sub to this channel as I’m not entirely sure what Ben’s usual content is about. But every now and then he has a “101″ class, where he explains to a room full of his friends in a classroom setting (complete with Whiteboard) an internet artist and oddity, the timeline, and what it is they have created. (wait... didn’t I say this already?). Unlike TRO however, the 101 classrooms are not a dark look into disturbed individuals (although the CWC 101 is debatable) nor is it a “lol look at this weirdo” dragging. Instead, of the 3 he’s done so far, it’s usually a rather sympathetic look at some of the strange artists on the internet who through some way or another, left a very big cultural impact on the internet space through their art. Sometimes they may not be the best people, but their work is so outside of what we’re used to seeing that just listening to him run you through these people’s internet history is fascinating.

In this episode he talks about Jennifer Diane Reitz. And although it is titled Kokoro Wish, the lecture is more about Jennifer’s larger work back in the early internet when being a weeb was unheard of, how being trans influenced her stories and characters, and her world building that is so rich and in-depth with it’s own ASTRO PHYSICS it puts any modern fictional world found in games or movies to shame.

Jennifer is not exactly a nice person... and in many ways can be seen as dangerously irresponsible, but she created something truly unique in a way that you kinda struggle figuring out if it’s terrible or a work of genius.

Anyway I think that’s enough for now

#Youtube #youtubers #recommendations #Self Isolation playlist #Long post #part 3 #videos #links

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ashtraythief · 4 years ago

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How about 3, 8, 9, 19, 24? Thanks!!

Oof that's a lot 😂 Thanks nonnie ❤️

3. Favorite angel

Cas. I did like some of the shorter lived angels, I enjoyed both Balthazar and Gabriel (in his original run) a lot and I like Anna, but s4-7 Cas is my favorite. He was the perfect mix between the hard asshole Uriel and the very human, rebelling Anna. I love the gravitas he had and I love his one-liners when he didn't get the pop culture. I love to watch his slow descent into rebellion and coming into his own. I love the s6 development. While I will be forever salty that the writers sacrificed a great villain like Eve (there was so much unexplored there) to the Crowley/Cas/Leviathan drama, I thought the whole theme road to hell is paved with good intentions was a story arc that made sense. And I like the resolution ep from Cas pov. When he died, I was sad to lose his character, but I felt the ending was real and earned. I didn't mind too much when he came back at first because I even still like mad Cas after he took the trauma from Sam's wall breaking. After that… The writers were just all over the place with Cas. His abilities depended on plot demands and they never managed to write enough other angels compelling enough that I cared about heaven's drama. I liked the bit with Hannah, but I wasn't invested enough in angel drama. I thought the whole be Jack's dad thing had potential, but I felt the exploration of Jack and how he was raised fell victim to the plot. There wasn't enough time to do it right because they insisted on the whole soulless drama for Jack and had other ridiculous storylines (the whole Nick thing. Shoot me now).

I still love Cas as a character, I didn't even mind when they gave him popculture knowledge because even though he had all the knowledge it was clear from his references (agent Beyoncé anyone?) that he still didn't understand. Is it realistic that he wouldn't? Maybe. He's millenias old, it's hard to change then I guess.

I'm excited to meet him again when I do my rewatch and enjoy his early seasons.

8.If you could write yourself into one episode, would you? What episode?

Oh, idk the death rate on supernatural is so high…. And everyone who shows up either has a horrific experience, loses a loved one, or dies. The only safe bet seems to be one of Dean's casual bar hookups 😂 (Sam seems to have a better run recently, but Sam's peen of death is a thing and I'd rather not die even if I get to sleep with Sam). Oh, maybe a bartender? Have a little chat with the guys, then safely watch them walk away? Don't get me wrong, I love the show, but I don't want to be in it 😂

9. What supernatural being would you be?

Hm. Vampire? I am fairly nocturnal. But I'm a lover not a fighter, so ghoul? I feel like a ghoul a lot these days, the grave robbing kind, not the fresh meat kind anyway 😂

19. Favorite brothers scene?

The barn scene. THE BARN SCENE THE FUCKING BARN SCENE OMG WHY WOULD YOU ASK ME THIS I AM CRYING AGAIN JUST THINKING ABOUT WRITING ABOUT IT THE FUCKING BARN SCENE BARN SCENE BARN SCENE BARN-

You know, it's really hard to pin down, I think, there's so much good stuff over the years. Everything in Faith, probably, but mostly Dean's I'm dying and there's nothing you can do and Sam's very stubborn watch me.

AHBL 2 Sam dying in Dean's arms.

There's one in s3 but I can't remember the ep, but the one where Sam fights for Dean to want to live. I want you to be my brother again. Just because.

S4 finale, their reunion, killing Ruby and the way they clutch each other's jackets when Lucifer rises.

Swan Song. SWAN SONG. THEIR LOVE LITERALLY SAVED THE WORLD OMG. Lucifer beats up Dean and the reflection in Baby is such a violent reminder for Sam of Dean and Home and Lucifer gets caught in it, gets caught in the memories, the feelings, the love and he cannot handle it because he has never felt a love so strong, so deep, so all-encompassing and it stuns him and throws him off enough for Sam to break free, Sam who's armed with a lifetime of memories of home and love and Dean, riding shotgun with his brother, and it makes him strong enough to fight lucifer and strong enough to jump and my heart broke into so many pieces.

SACRIFICE. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I mean, they practically got married in that church. They damned the world to an eternity of demonic existence so they could be together. Shoot that sweet, sweet, fucked up codependency straight into my veins.

There are more moments, later, but I haven't rewatched the last seasons enough to quote them (do not ask about the barn scene), so this will have to do.

24. I'd tell them that they're heroes, even on their worst days. That they made a difference. That they mean something, to so many people. That they'll leave a legacy, in their world and in ours. That they'll never be forgotten.

#anon asks #spn thoughts #ask meme #epic love story of sam and dean #castiel

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asherranceoftheheart · 5 years ago

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Icarus Falls - Ch. I - What A Wonderful World!

Story Summary: “You'll never leave me alone right?" "You think I'd actually let you go?"

A story about the slow descent and corruption of a lonely man, a demon who learns that bonds go both ways, brothers who deeply regrets their words spoken out of anger, and a conflicted man watching them all fall down from the distance. Here's a Puppet!Chase AU that was written with extreme self-indulgence so beware and read the tags before entering.

Chapter Summary: It’s Sad Chase Hours, my friends! (:( Pairing/s: None, Platonic Character/s: Jack McLoughlin, Chase Brody, Antisepticeye, Mentions of Other Septic Egos Genre: Angst Chapter Warning/s: Creepy!Anti, Self-Deprecating Thoughts (Thoughts like I’m not as good as the others, etc.), Sadness (Archive Of Our Own Edition) Note/s: If you wanna get tagged in this fic just tell me lmao. Also I’d advise the people who has an AO3 account to follow and subscribe to this fic there cause it’ll be easier to get notifications that I’ve updated the story. Oh and Jack McLoughlin is basically NOT Sean. He’s based on him but his motivations, personality, and etc. are different. So I guess please consider him as like another Septic Ego?

Nearly an entire year has passed ever since his best friend had been rushed into this hospital and was declared to be under a comatose state without showing any sign that he was going to be waking up soon. The chemically clean smell of the hospital that originally made him sick now barely affected him. Don’t get him wrong, he still hated the smell but when you’re here every three days it stops affecting you and is basically just a part of the background like the constant beeping of the heart monitor that originally drove him rather mad.

He held Jack’s thin hand, pressing the cold palm against his cheek and closed his blurring eyes.

“I miss you so much…” Chase choked on the heavy, bitter tar of sadness clinging to the inside of his throat and the wire of thorns made out of his guilt constricting suffocatingly around his bleeding heart. “I should be the one in your place, not you… I’m the weakest, most useless one among all of us. It shouldn’t have been you.”

The stinging burn of his tears welled up in his closed eyes and he furiously blinked them away even as his body heaved with dry sobs.

Pathetic…

While all the others are out there trying to find the cure to help Jack wake up from his coma, he was stuck here moping around, constantly crying like a little crybaby…

Powerless, useless, waste of space Chase…

He snapped out of his self-deprecating thoughts when he felt something squeeze his hand lightly. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought he was just imagining the action out of desperation. He looked at Jack’s sleeping face and humorlessly smiled. Somehow, even when the man was in the depths of his coma, Jack always knew whenever he wasn’t being kind to himself. When he was awake, he’d just painlessly whap him on his back or shoulders before pulling him into a tight hug to murmur against his hair that he’s going to be okay and that whatever mean thing he was telling himself wasn’t true.

“Hey! Don’t think of yourself that way, Chaser. If it weren’t for you nobody’d be dragging Henrik off to sleep or to eat something for the entire day and would’ve just kept on working regardless of how much he was already suffering. Jackie wouldn’t have anyone to chill and relax with when he’s trying to take a break from his superhero job to remind him that he’s human and he needs to rest too. Nobody would be dragging Marvin, screaming and spitting like a cat, out of his stuffy bedroom to enjoy the day outside and to be nicer to others rather than continuing his foot in mouth syndrome. You’re important to us Chasey so please, please never think of yourself that way.”

He could still hear Jack’s voice pleading with him while he used those silvery blue eyes to melt most of his self-doubt and self-hatred away… At least for the time being.

Chase laid his cheek on his crossed arms on top of the bed and he held Jack’s hand tightly as if he was afraid that the comatose man would disappear if he wasn’t watching over him carefully. The effects of sleepless nights, repeating extremely vivid nightmares, and the constant emotional and mental torment from Him finally took its toll on the weary man. A wave of exhaustion poured over his entire body and he could feel his eyelids being weighed down by fatigue.

He drifted off to sleep in mere seconds.

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

A hand was squeezing his cheeks and pulling them apart. Chase grumbled and attempted to turn over to the other side to escape the menace who was snickering at his futile attempts.

“Good morning Chasey Wasey,” he heard Jack coo at him mockingly in a tone used to humor babies. He hissed angrily when he felt a hand ruffling his bed hair furiously making it even worse than usual. “Time to wakey and facey the day, sunshine!”

“Fuck off, Jack,” Chase grunted as he pulled up the blankets to cover his face and swatted the hand that tried to squeeze his cheeks again.

His only warning was a sigh before someone was suddenly jumping on him and laying their entire body weight on the previously sleepy man. His eyes snapped open just as his blanket was forcefully pulled down and a pair of hands with wriggling fingers began to attack his ticklish sides. Chase began to squeal like a pig and squirmed like a worm trying to escape the smirking Jack’s trap while he howled with laughter.

“Jahahahahahack! Stahahahahahap!” Chase began to curse the snickering man who ruthlessly kept dancing and digging his fingers up and down the cursing-laughing man’s sensitive sides to hear him scream.

“Awwww, why should I? Look at you, you’re having so much fun right now!” Jack grinned down at the rapidly growing red face. “Coochie coochie coo!”

The older man only took mercy on Chase after his laughter had evolved into soundless screaming and he looked like he just stopped breathing with how hard he was laughing. Jack chuckled and rolled off the panting man’s body to flump over, spread-eagled to his other side. He draped an arm over Chase’s face and snickered when he shoved it away with an irritated grunt.

“You… are… a… motherfucker,” Chase huffed out every word with a hiss, righteous vengeance burning in those teary baby blue eyes that had Jack internally adding to his mental notes to watch out for the upcoming revenge from the other man. “I’m… going… to… fucking… kill you.”

He propped himself up on an arm and teasingly poked Chase’s soft, flushed cheek with a grin.

“Is that any way to talk to your father, young man?” Jack dropped his voice in a teasing mockery of a stern father’s loving but scolding voice.

Chase rolled his eyes and gave Jack a look that could wither up an entire tree in three seconds.

“I didn’t realize you signed up for my child support, Dad,” Chase narrowed his eyes dangerously and sassed him back with a sickly sweet smile and a voice dripping with poisoned honey. “I’m sure Marvin would be very interested to find out about this little fact.”

This time it was Jack’s turn to shudder and look at the younger man with a little bit of fear. They both knew that if Marvin ever heard of their little jokes, he was not going to leave Jack in peace. That magician was determined to have Jack take responsibility as their ‘parent’ despite the fact that trying to get that legally acknowledged is going to be a piece of hell to explain. Not that that matters to Marvin of course. The prideful man could out-stubborn even a rock.

Jack pouted and Chase’s smile widened. This was definitely a win for Chase.

He smacked his palm over the little bastard’s smug face and yelped and gave Chase a disgusted look when he felt him lick his palm. He snagged his own hand away and wiped the saliva off his shirt while Chase sat up trying to pat down his fluffed up hair that was flying all over the place.

“You literally don’t know where this hand has been, you little shit.” Jack told Chase who arched an eyebrow at him and looked him dead in the eyes, no sign of regret or remorse over his previous action.

“What? Are you one of those crusty dirty bastards who never washed their hands when they go to the bathroom? Are you a crusty, dirty old man, Jack?” Chase taunted his creator who snapped and pounced on him to lock his head under his arms while he noogied his creation. “I’m going to tell Henrik you’re one of those dirty bastards and then you’ll get five hours worth of lecture for your crusty ass!”

“No you fucking won’t or I’ll tell Henrik that you haven’t been eating anything else other than Mac and Cheese for dinner for the past week just because he said that it wasn’t healthy for you and you, the complete child you are, decided to spite him because you said quote that Henrik is not the boss of you end quote.” Jack growled back at the other man who was still trying to pull his head out of his armlock.

Jack smirked victoriously when Chase stopped squirming and looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

“... Truce?” Chase finally decided after a few minutes of their stubborn staring contest. He was pouting sulkily.

Jack snorted and gave Chase’s hair another ruffle before he finally let him go, “Truce. Anyway, get your ass up. We’re supposed to be meeting the others for lunch outside today.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chase grumbled but the next words still came out as easily as breathing to him. “Love you, bro.”

The words albeit it had been grumbled out was still painfully sincere. It lit up Jack’s weary face with a fond smile. He pulled Chase into a big hug and buried his face into that fluffy brown hair.

“Yeah… Love you too, Chaser.”

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

“...dy? Mister Brody, visitation hours are done,” Chase slowly, reluctantly stirred from the peaceful dream that he tried with all his might to never wake from.

He didn’t want to wake back up into the cold reality where he had to face that he was all alone and carrying what felt like the entire world on his aching back. He wanted to stay in that memory where his family was by his side and his closest friend and brother would be there to shake him awake ready to greet him with a smile and a lively spark in his eyes. However, he knew that he couldn’t postpone reality any further and he also knew that Jack and the others wouldn’t want to lose him to the world of bittersweet memories. There was no need to add one more unimportant baggage with another comatose friend to the other’s stress.

Chase forced himself to open his eyes and his hand was still loosely being squeezed by Jack in his sleep. That was the only reaction they ever got from him. He hoped that the others at least read his messages reporting Jack’s ‘progress’ over the past months. It’d be nice to try and be optimistic in believing that this means that Jack was slowly regaining his strength again.

“Good evening, Mister Brody,” Chase sat up at the sound of the familiar voice. He rubbed the crud made from sleep from his eyes to blink up at one of the doctors that had been assigned to care for Jack.

The man had neatly cut auburn hair, freckles dusting his pretty face like a night sky full of stars, and a pair of kind grey eyes. Doctor Adam often allows him to stay a bit later than usual for visitation hours, probably out of pity especially whenever he sees his god awful face.

“Evening Doc,” Chase muttered with a rough voice and glanced at the clock. He let out a groan and rubbed a hand down his face when he saw that the clock’s hands were pointing at nine o’clock. “Thanks for giving me an additional hour, Doc.”

The man just patted his shoulder and gazed at his comatose patient’s blank face. If one didn’t know better, they would think that Jack was merely in a deep sleep.

“You slept the entire day away since you came in before lunch. Have you been getting any sleep on your own, Mister Brody?” The gentle inquiry made Chase wince as he thought about his sleep schedule or rather to be more accurate, the complete lack of it. “Please try to get some rest by yourself. Nobody would be happy if you were to follow after your brother’s footsteps into this hospital.”

Chase sighed and rubbed a thumb on the back of Jack’s hand. It’s not like he can tell the doctor that sleeping peacefully and living well is not an option in a household where you have to deal with a demon who follows your every step, save for when he comes to this hospital, to torment you and push you around. Thank fuck Marvin used a powerful warding spell on this place before he and Jamie vanished on a trip to find a spell that could wake Jack up. He did ask his older brother why he couldn’t use the same spell around the house but Marvin explained that the hospital is connected to a powerful leyline so the spell is automatically powered to be kept up without his influence. The house doesn’t have the same advantage.

He understood his brother’s explanation and dismissed his own suggestion. He didn’t want to take up too much of Marvin’s energy when he should be focusing it on more important things. Marvin gave him one of his rare hugs and thanked him for his understanding before he was off. Jamie followed after him but not before staying back a bit longer to talk to him.

“Are you truly sure that you will be alright by yourself?” Jameson furrowed his brows as he asked his older brother. Chase plastered on a convincing smile and gave the youngest ego a hug before letting him go.

“Take care of our stubborn big brother. He’s a bit prickly but since you both have the soul bond he’s more likely to listen to you and be nicer to you. Keep yourselves out of trouble, okay?” Chase stood up on his toes to kiss Jameson on his forehead before gently pushing him towards the direction Marvin left. “Go. Don’t worry your head about me. I’ll be fine. You guys would be going through more dangerous tasks than I do.”

Jameson looked like he wanted to say something before he must have thought it wasn’t worth the effort before he gave him one last squeeze and a kiss dropped down on the crown of Chase’s head before he ran off to follow their magician.

He hasn’t heard anything from them in months but Chase knew that they were fine. If Anti had captured them, he would’ve been gloating about their unfortunate fate day in and day out into Chase’s ears.

“I’ll try to take care of myself, Doc.” He returned his mind back to the present and gave the concerned doctor a small smile. “You’re right. Nobody would want me to follow Jack here.”

‘At least… not yet,’ Chase’s dull eyes dimmed further at the dark whisper of his mind.

He stretched his arms out and faked a big yawn to hide the dullness of his eyes that were only accented by the dark raccoon-like black bags circling them. Chase stood up, gently prying Jack’s hand from his own, and leaned over to brush his chapped lips against the cold skin of his forehead. Sometimes, his morbid thoughts would rear in and tell him that he was basically caring for Jack’s corpse at this point. He brushed away his brother’s growing bangs from his thin face.

“His hair’s getting pretty long,” Chase idly commented as he twirled a brown lock around his pinky finger. “We should trim it soon.”

“We should,” he heard Doctor Adam walk behind him and grab his shoulder with a firm squeeze. “You look exhausted, Chase. Are you sure you’ll be fine going home on your own?”

The fussing from the other man painfully reminded Chase of the times Henrik would nag him over his health. He’d often tell him to call him or one of the other guys to come pick him up if he was too tired from his shoots to drive home on his own.

Poor Henrik… Ever since That Day, he had gone missing, probably spirited away by the demon that was tormenting all of them. Jackie followed soon after telling them tersely that he’s not coming back until he finds the other half of his soul bond. He did tell them to call him or text him if they managed to find a solution to Jack’s coma or if they found Henrik but other than that he had been ghosting them (or well, Chase) since he left. Chase wondered if the second leader of the group managed to find any other clues about Henrik other than that time when He managed to take over Jack’s tumblr to post the taunting images of a vacation postcard that grew bloodier and glitchier with every post edit before it was erased from existence as if it had never been there in the first place. He sent Marvin and Jackie messages about what happened but he has no way of knowing if they saw it or even believed him.

“I’ll be fine. I took a cab coming here,” Chase shrugged off the warm hand from his shoulder and pushed past the unresisting taller man’s body, “It’s getting late. I won’t get you into more trouble for letting me stay past visiting hours again.”

“You look like you’re only getting your good night’s sleep here and it’s not like you’re disturbing our patient,” Adam scratched the back of his head and gazed at the tired slump of Chase’s shoulders. “Be careful on your way home and please get something to eat… You haven’t eaten anything the entire day.”

Chase wisefully didn’t say that he hasn’t been having that much of an appetite to eat anything for the past months. Everything just tasted like cardboard in his mouth and it was taking him more energy to get food down into his stomach than any other activity. He still forces himself to try and eat something three times a day despite his lack of appetite. After all, you can’t hide extreme weight loss in a recorded video easily unlike the makeup he would expertly use to hide the black bags around his eyes. He does have to care for his body or else the community would notice that something was wrong.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll eat something when I get home.” He waved off the doctor’s concerns and inclined his head towards Jack. “Bye Jackaboy… I’ll see you in three days.”

He looked back at the doctor who was now checking his patient’s numbers to see if there was anything they should be worried about or if there had been any positive change.

“Doc, please keep taking good care of my big brother.”

“Of course, you take care of yourself as well, Mister Brody.”

With one final glance at his brother’s face, he turned around and mustered up all the flimsy strength in his heart to prepare himself for the war that will greet him when he returned to that house.

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

Chase paid the cab driver his fare and gave him a nice tip for the smooth drive. Before he exited the cab, he bade the old man farewell and wished him a safe drive. He slid out of the car and closed the door behind him, watching the cab disappear off into the distance then told himself that he can’t keep putting the upcoming event off. He deeply breathed in, his lungs expanding with the chill of the evening breeze before letting it out slowly through his nose to calm his racing heart.

He looked up into the darkened windows of the house, the lack of light giving it a more ominous look even before he caught sight of a pair of green eyes watching him from the windows on the second floor. There was unrestrained delight in those eyes as they relished in the sight of his obvious fear and internal conflict that kept him from moving his frozen legs to enter the house.

“Stop being such a wuss, Chase,” he whispered to himself as he swallowed around the lump in his throat and forced his shaking legs to walk up to the front door.

He unlatched the collection of keys swaying from its place on his front belt loop and flipped through them before coming to a stop on the front door key. He fumbled with it, trying to stall for more time, and inserted the item into the keyhole. The man hesitated for a second, knowing just what awaited him behind that door before he gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn the key. The click of the lock opening sounded like the bell that would sound for one’s death. He pulled the key out and reached over to wrap his sweaty hand around the ice cold steel surface of the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open.

The pitch darkness of the hallway made him feel small and helpless to whatever lurks within its shadows. He resisted the urge screaming at him to turn around and run back to the hospital with his tail tucked between his legs. He dug his nails in his palms, forming faint crescents, before he stepped inside the dark house and closed the door behind him. The hair behind his neck rose along with the goosebumps on his arms. Someone was watching him.

The feeling of being watched has grown worse now that he stood all alone in the dark. It was as if His eyes were everywhere, focusing their unblinking gaze upon his shaking form. He leaned back against the closed front door and fumbled blindly for the lock. He already has enough in his own plate dealing with the being lurking in this house that he doesn’t want to deal with impromptu home invasions. He switched the lock up.

“... I’m back,” he doesn’t know why he kept doing this even though he knew that only one person (and it was his most disliked and feared person at that) would be there to listen. His words carried through the still air of the house and Chase grimaced when he heard the previously subtle static grow louder as He approached.

He shook his head and gathered up the shattered pieces of his courage and journeyed on to the kitchen. While he doesn’t have the appetite, he could still make do with a sandwich or two for food. He’d flick on whatever light switch he’d encounter on his way to the kitchen and he began to lose some of the tension in his muscles as the dark house soon brightened up. Don’t get him wrong. He’d never fully turn off his guard while he’s outside of the hospital’s warded boundaries but light always had a way of easing some of his worries and burning away a little bit of that fear.

When he reached the kitchen, he headed straight for the cupboard to grab a box full of teabags to get a kettle started up. He used whatever flavor his hand could snag from the box first before putting the other teabags back in the cupboard. Then he walked over to the fridge and opened its door to look at his selection of food.

Normally, if this had been the past and he had the energy and enthusiasm, he would’ve been cooking homemade food because it was his favorite activity other than filming videos and trickshots, playing the piano, or doodling or sketching something that caught his interest. However, it’s been a while since he did any of those hobbies. He didn’t really have any room in his energy output to be able to invest some time in his own passions.

Most of what was inside the fridge delivered fast food and a rare takeout box. Occasionally he’d get the energy to eat outside since he was sick of the silence of the house but that happens probably twice or thrice a month.

He wasn’t in the mood for anything especially heavy so he chose the club sandwich that came with his ordered salad a week ago. He gave it a careful sniff and shrugged when it smelled pretty normal.

When he closed the fridge’s door, he didn’t react to His sudden appearance behind it.

“Hello, little Brody,” the demon purred, His creepy inhumane wide smile stretching out further until it looked like it was about to split His face apart when He saw his hand tightly gripping his sandwich. “Did you have fun visiting Jack today?”

Chase swallowed the biting words ‘Don’t say his name’ down his throat to let it sit heavily in his stomach. He found that the best way to cope with the demon’s presence was to ignore Him and give Him no attention until He grows bored of you for the rest of the day. It’s not a perfect tactic. Sometimes it angers Him and Chase is left with new bruises covering up the side of his back that makes it difficult to sit in a hard chair but he made do. He turned around without looking back at the smiling demon and returned to the whistling kettle. The strong fragrance of peppermint filled the room and its scent lessened some of Chase’s drowsiness. He turned off the heat and poured himself a cup of tea before going to the living room.

“Still ignoring me, Chaser?” The high pitched giggles grated on Chase’s nerves and ears but he determinedly pretended that nobody was shadowing his steps, blowing little puffs of cold air behind his neck. He gritted his teeth and stopped his twitching arm from spinning him around and striking Him on the face. That would just encourage Him to retaliate.

He hastened his brisk pace and placed the cup of scalding tea on the table before collapsing on the couch. He reached out to grab the remote control of the TV from the table before turning it on and navigated the screen to Netflix. He decided to continue watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and maybe even bring some cheer to himself. His dull blue eyes never wavered from the screen in spite of the intent, sneering gaze burning a hole through him coming from the side. He only leaned over to pick up the mug that was still smoking hot.

“Have you finally received any notice from the cowardly magician and fake hero that they’ve actually read your messages or are they still pretending that you have no important information to tell them?” The demon crooned, His poisonous words managing to directly hit all of the weak points of Chase’s insecurities.

His hand tightened around the mug's handle. He felt Him shuffle closer almost until their arms were touching together.

Ignore Him Chase. Ignore Him. He’s just taunting you. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. You know His games. You’ve been playing it since December last year. He is lying to you. Do not believe His lies.

“Leaving you with no way of contacting them for emergencies, ignoring all of your calls and messages… One would think that you’re just an unimportant nuisance to them,” He giggled, He was so close now that Chase could feel the static that clung to His presence teasingly sparking up against the skin of his arms. “Such loyal and loving brothers you have there, Chaser.”

He suddenly grew hyper aware of the heaviness of his phone that had been stuck in his front pocket for the entire day. He didn’t power up the thing ever since he woke up this morning until he was sitting in the taxi cab on the way back. He texted Marvin and Jackie’s number to give them the weekly updates on Jack even if there hasn’t been any change at all. He began to type out that He has been haunting him and stared down at that part of the message with a blank gaze before he erased the parts mentioning how he was actually doing and just said that he’s been fine if not a bit tired.

Sometimes, when Chase was feeling a bit selfish, he wished that they would send him back something, even if it’s just the single letter K to tell him that they’ve been reading his messages. Originally, he told them about his daily nightmares about Him and how He was starting to show His presence around him but the lack of replies felt… cold and uncaring. It felt like he was annoying them about his complaints and should just suck it up. It wasn’t like He was kidnapping him or anything.

So he stopped. He only texted them now for reports on Jack’s state.

His head was beginning to hurt, more specifically the side of his head was beginning to hurt like a bitch. Ah. He was getting too emotional.

He bit down on his tongue, the pain snapped him out of the emotional downhill he was starting to fall into and to stop him from snapping at the demon and defend his brothers from the lies that He was spewing from His grinning mouth.

“Stubborn, so stubborn… You do know that everyone considers you as the weakest link of the group right?” Chase felt the shivers run up and down his spine when those ghostly fingers began to brush the top of his hair. “Poor useless, powerless little brother… You lost the only person who stood by your side while the others who swore to be your brothers abandoned you, left you to face the monster all on your own.”

Chase abruptly stood up, the mug that was filled with tea that had gone cold fell over to the floor as his loosened grip let go of it, the sound of his racing heartbeat roaring in his ears while he tried to ignore the demented cackling coming from his tormentor. His words kept bouncing around his head and in a futile attempt to forget it, he held up the ruined sandwich that he had unknowingly crushed in his hand and tore into it.

“You can’t run away from the truth, Chaser.” He crooned right next to his ears, His dark presence loomed over his shaking body. “I truly do wonder if the others would actually come to your rescue if you cried for their help?”

Chase looked down at the remaining pieces of the sandwich in his hand and at the feel of cold tea on his feet.

His sandwich tasted like ash in his mouth.

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

Chase ran his fingers through his wet hair and walked out of the shower, wiping off his wet feet on the bathroom mat so that he won’t accidentally slip and crack his skull on the toilet. Knowing Him, He’d probably just laugh His ass off at his own stupidity and then the last thing that he would see would be that demon’s grinning face. That would be a shitty end to an already shitty life.

When he said that the hospital was the only safe place in the world against Him, he was sort of lying. For someone as creepy as He was, He still doesn’t invade the bathroom space especially when he’s taking a bath so that’s one place he can have some temporary peace whatsoever. It’s not that everything stops when he’s in there. Like…

Chase looked at the mirror and saw that he was crying tears of blood again. He reaches up, wiping the crimson liquid away from his cheeks, feeling the squish of the blood on his fingers, and spreads the mess all over his face. However, when he looked down he already knew what sight was waiting for him.

His fingers were clean.

When he looked back up into the mirror, there was not a shred of evidence that blood had been streaming down his cheeks a few seconds ago.

It was sickeningly funny in a fucked up way how such a thing that would’ve incited extreme panic attacks and mental breakdowns in the beginning barely fazed him anymore. He squeezed his dry fingers together and sighed. After all, there were worse things to panic about other than illusory tears of blood at this point in his life.

After their little one-sided conversation in the living room, Chase decided to take out his airpods and plug them up to his ears while he cleaned up the mess his tea made on the floor and finished up the remaining tea on the kettle and his smushed up sandwich. He could see Him snickering at his valiant attempts of ignoring Him at the corner of his eyes but Chase just averted his sight and began singing loudly to the lyrics of the songs screaming against his ears. Once he chugged down his tea, forced the tasteless sandwich down his throat, and cleaned up his mess, he dragged himself upstairs and decided to go for a hot shower before going to ‘sleep’.

The heat was both a comfort and a hit on the face about how this entire bullshit situation was the reality that he has to live with. A comatose best friend, a missing brother, a demon haunting nearly every second of his day poking at every raw wound of insecurity in his psyche, and a bunch of distant brothers who were too busy with their own respective tasks to listen to him… A tiny part of him wanted the ex-wife and children in his backstory to be real so that he could at least worry about something else other than the supernatural stuff but the bigger part of him wasn’t cruel enough to wish this messed up situation on anyone just because he wanted to feel a little less lonely.

He stepped out of his shower once his skin turned slightly red from the temperature of the water. No doubt he’s going to feel the rawness and sensitivity of his skin in the morning if he wasn’t feeling emptier than usual but for now, he just didn’t care. He changed into an oversized clean blue shirt and black shorts after he finished drying his hair with a towel and walked out into his bedroom.

The place was what you would frankly call a Mess. Dirty clothes formed into small mountains all around the corners of the room, a bunch of dirty mugs and plates sat on the table, his laptop in sleep mode settled on top of his unmade bed, and a trashcan full of empty packets of chips and snacks that he couldn’t be bothered to take out. Chase looked around his room and could just imagine Henrik or Jack’s fussing over him and the mess. They’d drag him out of his bed and help him clean out his room or get some sunshine.

God… He missed them so much…

He trudged over to his bed and replaced his laptop over to the floor. He slipped under the sheets and crossed his arms under his head while he stared up into the dark ceiling of his room. He could feel His gaze staring right at him, watching him do nothing if not for the sole purpose of reminding him that he’s not alone.

…

Would it be fucked up if he said that some part of him was glad that He was there? Save for the people in the hospital and his other absent brothers, everybody thought that he was Jack. He couldn’t let it be known that the man was in a comatose state as that would just bring more questions than reasonable answers that they could answer with. He has to pretend to be him in front of the public because nobody needs Chase but a lot of people need Jack.

The demon was the only one outside of the hospital to acknowledge that he was Chase and it’s so disgustingly, pathetically refreshing to him. He was the only one who ever calls him by his name now and it helps him remember that he wasn’t Jack, he could never be Jack.

Maybe after all this is over… If he’s still alive by then, he’ll dye his hair an outrageous color again so that nobody would ever make the mistake of calling him Jack.

“Oh Chaser~” He hates that the nickname that held such fond memories for him was now tainted by the eight months of hearing it being hissed out with mockery by the demon who couldn’t help but ruin everything that previously made him so happy. “Still giving me the cold shoulder while you’re about to sleep? How rude.”

Chase closed his eyes and turned over to lay on his stomach and bury his face into his pillows. He felt the side of the bed dip as He sat on it. Still, he feigned deafness to the sound of static popping and hissing in his ears while he tried to force himself to go to sleep. He felt his entire body tense when a painfully familiar hand started to play with his hair in the same way as Jack often did to him in the past.

“You’re lucky I’m in an indulging mood today, Chaser,” His voice dropped while His static grew louder. The hand that had been gently playing with his hair suddenly tugged on the strands while claws threateningly grazed his scalp. “On any normal day, I wouldn’t have stood for such disrespect.”

The healing bruises all over his body twinged at the same time while he listened to those words.

‘I know,’ Chase thought numbly. ‘I know that very well.’

The touch lightened once more now that He had delivered His message effectively. As those fingers glided down his hair to massage the weak spot behind his neck, he couldn’t resist melting against those hands. Unconsciously, he had moved his body closer to the gentle touches that his body has been craving for months. He wanted to laugh at the sad fact that the only physical contact he has felt over the past year came from the demon who also hurt him every single day. He heard Him chuckle as he chased His touch greedily.

“There, there, big brother’s here with you now,” Chase shuddered as He impeccably imitated Jack’s loving tone, tears springing up from behind his closed lids when he couldn’t stop the wounded whine that just escaped him. “Shh… You’re tired aren’t you, Chase? Go to sleep. I’ll keep you company for the night.”

He should be fighting this. He shouldn’t be taking any fake comfort from the demon… But he wasn’t strong enough like the others and he was so, so lonely... So they’ll forgive him if he gave in just a few times right?

“You think too much,” Chase sniffled at the perfect copy of the way Jack would express his fond exasperation while helping him go back to sleep after one of those terrible nightmares.

It hurts. It hurts that this feels like his big brother never left but he knew perfectly well that this was just another cruel game He was playing with him.

“Goodnight, Chaser,” He whispered into his ears while He continued to pet his head.

“Goodnight… Jack.”

#jacksepticeye #writersofjack #chase brody #antisepticeye #jack mcloughlin #Icarus Falls!AU #tw blood #tw hospital #tw coma #angst #hurt no comfort #creepy anti

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hereidinathoreauwrites · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV), Come From Away - Sankoff & Hein Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Joan Characters: Zoey Clarke, Joan (Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist), Annette (Come From Away), Beulah Davis, Beverley Bass, Claude Elliott Additional Tags: Crossover, Angst and Tragedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, two people end up stuck together somewhere and oops they're in love, Developing Relationship, mentions of 9/11, the author is clearly just mashing together two things they very much enjoy and seeing what happens, Zoey and Joan are closer in age, college!Zoey, Gander (Come From Away), References to Come From Away Summary:

For Zoey, it was a return home from a study abroad program, back for her final semester at San Francisco State. For Joan, it was a business trip meant to fix her marriage from imminent destruction.

But when history crashed across the world on that fateful day, their lives were thrown together as they took refuge in Newfoundland and tried to cope with tragedies personal and global.

ZEP and Come From Away crossover. Because I said so.

She just wanted to get home.

Zoey Clarke tripped on her way to her seat, nearly smacking an angry-looking dark-haired first-class woman in the face. Mumbling an apology for the near-mishap, Zoey darted towards Economy, face burning.

It had been six months. Six glorious months of baguettes, and croissants, and the view across the Seine, and coding with her French classmates in two languages until the early hours of the morning. But she was finally going back home to California.

Zoey finally settled into her seat (an aisle seat) and threw her backpack into the overhead. She carefully tucked her computer case under the seat in front of her.

She’d barely settled herself before the cabin address began.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome aboard this American Airlines flight 846 nonstop service from Paris to Los Angeles. My name is Captain Bass. We have an estimated flight time today of roughly 11 and a half hours and we are due to arrive in LA at 2pm local time on Tuesday, September 11th. Please sit back and enjoy your flight.”

Zoey closed her eyes as they taxied; nervous but a small part of her relieved.

She’d be home soon.

***

Meet you in LA.

Joan Bennett scowled at the SMS on her phone screen. That’s it. That was all he’d been able to muster up. Skipping out on their anniversary in Paris entirely for some stupid reason. He hadn’t even called.

She sat back in her seat as the cabin address came on, eyes already closing as the standard pre-flight information was given.

LA was his last chance. If Charlie couldn’t buck up and actually give a damn about their marriage this time she was going to…

Joan pursed her lips, resolve faltering. You’d be all alone. Despite his many, many shortcomings, Charlie was still a warm body alongside hers (on the nights he was actually home). He was still a partner in this unfriendly world. And the thought of being without him…

She drifted into an uneasy sleep as they took off towards America. Towards the man she didn’t know how to love.

“L…ladies and g…gentlemen…p..please, please fasten your seatbelts and put your tray tables up…we are preparing to land.”

Zoey blinked awake, confused. Were they in LA already?

Glancing around, she saw several others looking just as confused as she was. Zoey glanced at her watch. It had barely been five hours since they’d left Paris.

“What’s happening?” She asked the man next to her.

He just shook his head.

Zoey tightened her seatbelt and sat back, heart racing as the plane began a slow descent. She glanced over her neighbors and saw a tiny strip of land surrounded by vast ocean.

They weren’t falling. But something about this just didn’t quite feel right.

***

The plane touched down and Joan stared out the window. This wasn’t LAX. It was some rundown airport surrounded by trees.

“Where the hell are we?” She demanded.

“Newfoundland.” The flight attendant informed her, seeming distracted. “Nothing to worry about madam.”

“Any idea when we’ll be on our way?”

But the woman didn’t answer her. She vanished into the cockpit.

Joan heard hushed voices and some kind of chatter on the pilot’s radio.

She frowned and pulled out her cell phone.

As she dialed a number, she glanced out the window again.

It was then that she registered the dozens of other planes lined up in haphazard rows. And the long line of cars beyond the airport, stretching out along the winding country road.

What was going on?

***

Seven hours later, Zoey felt like she was losing her mind. She’d tried to ask the flight attendants questions or chat with her neighbor but no one seemed to know anything or be willing to share if they did. No one around her had a phone so she couldn’t even call her parents to let them know about the delay.

Her unease had only grown when the captain announced that complimentary drinks were going to be provided. Alcoholic drinks.

In Zoey’s limited experience, businesses only gave alcohol away on holidays and during the shittiest of circumstances. She doubted it was a holiday in…wherever-they-were Newfoundland.

As her fellow passengers got drunker, they got louder. And the plane only got hotter and more stifling.

An hour after the drinks, someone finally cracked open the airplane door. It did little overall but something was better than nothing at this rate.

Zoey couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to move. She needed to plug herself into her code and block out all this madness.

Her neighbor had joined the drunken revelry at the back a half hour ago. Scooping up her computer, Zoey wriggled out of her seat and made her way towards first class. There might be more leg room up there at least. And it was further from the drunk singing.

***

Joan wanted to kill somebody. They’d been sitting on the ground for over seven hours by this point, not including the five hour flight beforehand. And still, no one was telling them what was going on.

At least the free vodka was taking some of the edge off. But if she didn’t get off this plane soon, she was going to lose her mind. Or strangle a flight attendant.

“Excuse me…?”

Joan turned and saw the klutzy redhead from earlier pointing at the empty seat beside her. “Do…do you mind if I sit here? I need to get some work done and the back of the plane is filled with a lot of singing drunk people.”

Joan eyed the stranger, seizing her up. She was younger than Joan by maybe a decade and looked even younger in her bright shirt. An even brighter cardigan was tied around her waist. Her smile was soft and hesitant, like she was afraid to offend or even exist.

Joan shrugged. “No, of course not.” She was way past the point of caring. They were stuck in a plane in the middle of nowhere. Not like things could get much worse.

The woman took Charlie’s empty seat, giving Joan a soft smile.

“I’m Zoey.” She was clutching a laptop like it was a lifeline. That was the only reason Joan engaged with her.

“Joan.” She replied.

“H…how are you doing?” Zoey asked, her face pinching in concern.

Joan sighed. “Wish I knew what was happening.” She bit her lip and swigged the rest of her vodka miniature. “And worried about someone who was flying today…I wish I could tell him I’m in…Iceland!”

“Newfoundland.” Zoey’s face immediately fell as Joan rounded on her at the correction. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to correct you!” The young woman gave a sheepish smile. “I’m hoping you’re one of those people who laugh when awkward people say stupid things.”

Joan couldn’t help but smile. “It’s fine. Don’t mind me, I’m just frustrated.”

Zoey nodded and Joan had to admire her empathy, especially under these circumstances. “Where were you coming from?” Zoey inquired.

“London.”

Zoey tilted her head, interest apparently piqued. “Really? You dont have an accent!”

Joan laughed. “I’m not from there…I’m…just working there. I haven’t developed the accent yet.” She gestured at the laptop. “How about you? What are you working on?” She normally wasn’t one for small talk, especially with strangers. But there was literally nothing else to do at this point so why not? Besides, Zoey wasn’t the worst option on the plane. Not by a long shot.

Zoey blushed and placed her laptop on the tray-table. It was a fairly expensive model but a few years old and clearly well-loved. “I’m actually a student.” She admitted. “Senior at San Fran State. I was coming back from a semester abroad in Paris. I’m studying computer science with a minor in languages.”

“Really?” Joan found herself turning towards the young woman, actually interested. What were the odds? “What are you going to do with that?”

Zoey gestured at the computer. “I’m working on my thesis: a piece of software for instant translations on emails and instant messages. I’m starting with English to French but hopefully I’ll be able to expand it.”

Joan was intrigued. “Well…this may be your lucky day…” She smiled. “I work for Google.”

Zoey’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

The next two hours flew by. They talked about everything: job prospects at Google, the finer coding points of Zoey’s software, life in London, and dog breeds. For a time, they were both able to put aside the trepidation and frustration of the long wait inside the plane.

They only stopped when the captain turned on the intercom and the voice of the president filtered through the plane.

“My fellow Americans…”

They listened in confusion at his words: talk of victims and brave Americans rescuing their fellow citizens. Joan bit her lip, worry starting to creep in. What had happened? From the sound of it, some kind of natural disaster or explosion. But there was no way to get information while they were stuck here. Her phone was dead and anyway, there was…no one to call.

Joan turned to Zoey and was startled to see the younger woman trembling.

“Hey…” She gently touched Zoey’s shoulder, unsure if the action was welcome. “Hey, you okay?”

The younger woman smiled in gratitude but it seemed forced. “Joan…I know we just met…but…” She swallowed hard, seeming like she was looking for words. “I just…I’m all alone and I dont know what’s happening and…”

Joan touched her shoulder once more. “It’s fine.” She assured her. “I’m…alone too. You can stick with me until we figure things out.”

Zoey seemed relieved.

***

Joan briefly lost track of Zoey during the madness of disembarkation. The younger woman had slipped back to her seat as they heard they were leaving, needing to grab her bag. For all the long hours they’d been stuck, once word came down that they were finally getting off, leaving took very little time.

Joan was ushered down the aisle before Zoey reappeared. They finally left their plane and were herded through the darkness into the airport.

Joan swore it was older than she was - probably a relic from the Cold War…or World War II. Thankfully, they didn’t spend long inside.

The local soldiers guided them towards a line of school buses; keeping some flights together and splitting others up indiscriminately.

Joan glanced around as she shuffled along, wondering where Zoey had gotten to. Wondering if the vibrant young coder had fallen out of her life already. It was a shame if she had…Joan had rather liked her.

She followed other passengers from her flight onto a bus and claimed a seat about halfway down. It was cramped and squeaky. But at least it wasn’t a plane. She sat there for 20 minutes, one hand on the other half of the seat in a halfhearted attempt to save it.

But just as every other seat on the bus filled up, a familiar redhead climbed aboard. Joan’s heart jumped.

“Zoey!” She stood and waved to her, guiding her towards the empty seat. “I thought we’d lost you.” She was very glad she hadn’t.

Zoey shook her head, clutching her bag in one hand and her laptop case in the other. “No…No I just needed to get an emergency prescription filled….” Her eyes widened and she shook her hands. “N…nothing serious! It’s not like…I’m going to go crazy because I…I’m off my meds…” The younger woman deflated slightly. “I…I’ll stop talking now…”

Joan chuckled. “It’s fine.” It was…kind of endearing actually.

Zoey settled next to her. “Did you find out about your husband?” She asked. “Was he flying today?”

Joan stiffened. “Do you mind if we just dont talk about that?” She had called Charlie moments after they first landed. The conversation had barely lasted a minute before her battery died. He was safe. And he didn’t seem to care about…whatever had happened or wherever she was. But Joan was more concerned with her utter lack of relief about that revelation. Maybe once she knew just what the hell was going on, she would actually feel glad that he was safe. But right now…

“How about you?” She asked Zoey, finding she was genuinely interested in her companion’s state. “Did you manage to get through to your family? In San Francisco?”

Zoey’s face fell. “No. The pay phones were all out of order…and no one had a cell phone…I just…I just wish we knew what was happening!”

Joan was filled with a resolve so intense that it erased all thoughts of her husband. “I know. I’m sorry.” She squeezed Zoey’s shoulder, utterly unconcerned at how quickly that action had become commonplace for them. “I’ll help you find a phone as soon as we get…” She glanced up, out the bus windows and into the darkness surrounding them. “Wherever we’re going…”

Zoey smiled in thanks. They didn’t say much for the rest of the bus ride. But neither did anyone else.

***

The bus took them to a school gymnasium. Hundreds of gym mats, air mattresses, and army cots had been laid out in long rows along the floor. Some had pillows or blankets but most did not. Joan was glad she’d grabbed her airplane blanket but this still looked terrible. Were they really going to be staying here overnight? Surely they could find a better hotel. She’d gladly share with Zoey if it got them both out of here.

A woman greeted them as they ambled in, identifying herself in a thick accent as Beulah, a staff member of the school. She directed them to grab a spot for themselves and that once they were settled, they could come back into the cafeteria and watch the news on several old television sets.

As eager as she was to know just why the hell they were here, Joan decided she’d rather have first pick of the beds.

Through it all, Zoey clung to Joan’s side. She took the air mattress next to Joan’s, tucking her computer between their beds. Joan waited for her while she carefully covered the case with her blanket.

Then they went into the cafeteria.

It seemed like everyone from their flight and beyond was there, crammed into the space, trying to get a glimpse.

Joan managed to push her way through to the front, Zoey trailing behind her.

Then they finally saw.

They all stood there in front of the TVs, taking it all in in stunned silence.

Smoke, steel, dust. A plane appearing out of nowhere and…

Joan couldn’t look away. She felt…lost, untethered. Any sense of safety she’d had the privilege of ignorance about was shattered forever.

The same footage was on an endless loop, like some kind of cruel flipbook. It should have been a movie. But it wasn’t.

When the first tower fell, a collective gasp went up around the room.

Without thinking, Joan reached for Zoey’s hand. The younger woman was pale and trembling but she gripped Joan’s hand so tightly she felt her tendons re-arrange. In that moment, Joan was so glad the coder had chosen to take Charlie’s seat.

This was a history-defining moment. And all they could do was assure the other that in this moment when they could do nothing, when they were stranded thousands of miles away from all the chaos and death, they were not alone.

Some time later, after someone had turned the news off in frustration, Zoey finally let go of Joan’s hand. She turned away and pushed her way out of the crowd, towards the hallway.

“Zoey?” Joan followed her, unwilling to let her out of her sight again.

She found her collapsed against the wall. The young woman looked shaken, like her world was crumbling.

Joan kneeled beside her and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Zoey, what is it?” She asked, as gently as she could.

Zoey shook her head and swallowed. “My…my brother, David…is in law school in Manhattan…” She looked up, face pale. “What…what if he was there?”

Joan didn’t have an answer for her.

Zoey looked down. She wasn’t crying, it was more like…helplessness. Or a despair so deep it had rendered her unable to move.

Watching her, Joan felt the true weight of their situation settle heavily on her shoulders. They were stuck here in wherever Newfoundland, while there…people were dead, people were dying, the wreckage was burning.

It could have been any of them.

She could have been in the towers, visiting on business like she had been a year ago. The terrorists could have hijacked their flight and flown it off-course. Zoey could have been in Manhattan, visiting her brother. Zoey’s brother could have been on the ground.

They couldn’t do anything…couldn’t call people, couldn’t go home, couldn’t seek revenge, or help the wounded.

Zoey gave a tiny sound, something like a gasp but fainter, more vulnerable.

Joan fixated on it. It was something. Something she could do.

Maybe if she could just help this poor girl find out about her brother, everything would somehow be okay.

***

Zoey barely slept.

It felt like every time she closed her eyes, she was seeing smoke engulfing New York City streets she had walked a mere year before. The sounds of people screaming and sirens blaring echoed in her head. The creaking of her air mattress sounded too similar to the crunch of concrete.

Finally, she gave up. Wrapping herself in Joan’s airplane blanket, she staggered towards the gym doors and forced one open. A blast of cool Canadian air whipped past her, bringing her body back here, back to this strange place. Far away from there. Far away from David.

Wherever he was.

Her lip trembled as she thought of him. When was the last time she’d called? The last time she’d said she loved him? When had she last heard him laugh? Why hadn’t she cherished those moments?

The cold had stopped helping.

Now it was inside her. It was consuming her.

***

As dawn broke, a woman named Annette brought Zoey a cup of coffee. She was sitting in a chair by the edge of the room, exhausted and still lost in horrible thoughts about David. Joan was nowhere in sight, having slipped out early in the morning for unknown reasons. Zoey missed her.

“Mornin’ hun.” Annette greeted, “you hungry? We got breakfast down in the cafeteria.”

Zoey shook her head. Her stomach was empty but the thought of food nauseated her. And the televisions were still on in the cafeteria.

“Well then, do you need to change?” Annette asked, “I can get you some clean clothes if you want.”

Zoey almost refused but then she realized that these were the same clothes she’d put on the day before yesterday, underwear and all. Suddenly, it felt like they were melding into her skin. She nodded and Annette patted her on the hand before getting up to grab her a change of clothes.

It was a relief she hadn’t known she needed. But at the same time, the strangeness of it just made her miss home even more. And think about how far away she was from David and from San Francisco.

Zoey had just finished putting on the fresh underwear, slightly too big jeans, and was pulling on a plaid shirt that clashed horribly with her hair when Joan finally returned.

The older woman cocked her head at the outfit but all she said was: “Is your hair different? You look good.”

Zoey chuckled, fingering the hasty ponytail. “Thanks. It’s just super unwashed…” She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling like a different person. “Are we leaving?”

Joan shrugged. “No one seems to know.” She was still wearing the same clothes from the plane and she was fiddling with something in her pocket. Her hair was also pulled back but into a severe bun that Zoey immediately envied. Zoey opened her mouth to tell her about the free clothes but Joan seemed preoccupied. She jerked her head towards the door Zoey had stood in front of the night before. “Zoey, come with me…”

Joan led her outside the building, one hand in her pocket, the other clutching Zoey’s tightly. Zoey followed, silent but alert.

As they stood in the chilly air, Joan finally pulled out her other hand.

A cell phone. A fancy, expensive, international phone.

Zoey gasped, eyes sliding from the device to Joan’s face.

“I finally got a chance to charge it.” Joan said, sounding apologetic. “I…I wanted to make sure you got to use it first, before I offer it to the others.” She held it out to Zoey. “Go on, check on your family. I’ll be just inside if you need me.”

Hands shaking, Zoey took the phone. Her stomach was in knots.

“Wait,” She called as Joan turned to go inside. “Stay? Please?”

Joan nodded. She took a few steps back, far enough to give Zoey some privacy but never letting her out of her sight.

Her heart thrumming, Zoey dialed the number.

***

Joan watched intently as the coder used her phone. Her eyes traced Zoey’s path as she spoke rapidly with someone on the other end. She folded her arms tightly as Zoey stopped pacing and her face pinched with sympathy as she saw the young woman place a hand over her chest.

After a few moments, Zoey hung up and made her way back to Joan.

She braced herself.

“He’s…he’s okay…” Zoey let out a shaky breath. “David he…he’s with my parents in San Francisco…he wasn’t in New York when it…” Her lip trembled, a single tear dripping down her face.

Unsure what else to do, Joan only held out her arms.

Zoey fell into her embrace, her small form shaking with relief as she sobbed.

***

The next two days were torturous.

There was nothing to do. Nothing but wait. Wait for a phone to be available in the hallway. Wait for the news to show the clips again. Wait for the word that they were leaving.

While knowing that her family was safe had taken some of the edge off, Zoey still found herself anxious, jumpy and unable to sleep. She stuck by Joan like a barnacle.

Joan seemed to notice and would try to distract her. On the second morning, after finally managing to stomach some food, they risked going outside for a walk and explored the town together. Joan had finally caved and accepted a gift of clothing from Annette. She was bundled up in a sweater that was far too large for her and jeans she constantly complained about. They talked more about Zoey’s thesis, about Joan’s favorite parts of London. Anything but the dark cloud hanging over the world.

For a brief moment, Zoey convinced her to open up about her husband and learned the sad truth: after 6 years of marriage, Joan was getting divorced.

Joan didn’t seem sad about it.

Some of the local kids invited them into a yard they passed and spent an hour playing with Zoey’s hair, putting her messy locks into braids and plaits. The youngest of them eventually convinced Joan to sit and receive a single sloppy braid. Zoey had to laugh at the ridiculous hairstyle. Joan did not take the braid out.

As they walked back to the school in the quickly dwindling sunlight, Zoey reached for Joan’s hand again. Joan took it without a second thought, her thumb rubbing Zoey’s hand soothingly.

It was a simple gesture. But to Zoey, it grounded her here.

She barely knew this woman. But she was here. And she was amazing. She’d spent all day just talking to her, distracting her from the horrible state of the world and the remote location they were stranded in.

Zoey hated to think that Joan would tire of her and leave her all alone again. She desperately tried to think of ways to pay the woman back for her attention and came up blank.

She didn’t want to be alone. And she didn’t want Joan to be alone.

But was that enough?

***

The following night, (after another day spent walking with Zoey, this time along the coast) Beulah invited them all down to the local Legion building for “some drinking and some fun.” Which was probably a good call: there had been several loud arguments over phones that day and even a brief fight between several of the passengers. Everyone was on edge and stuck in place. A little drinking could only help at this rate.

Joan wasn’t going to go; it didn’t feel right with everything that was happening. She didn’t want to celebrate: she’d finally decided that her marriage (it it had ever really been that) was over. She’d be going back to London alone if all this ever ended - to an empty flat and a demanding job and a cold bed. It felt wrong to be upset or even happy over such a thing when the world was still reeling from Tuesday.

But then Zoey piped up and said: “I’m only going if Joan is going!” and just like that, she was slipping on her borrowed shoes (heels only got a woman so far in this place) and following the crowd down towards the Legion building. As soon as she stepped inside, Joan knew it had been the right choice.

The night was insanity in the best way. Over 400 people from all over the world were celebrating together: drinking, dancing, even swimming in the river! And then the instruments came out.

Joan had never particularly cared for fiddles or accordions. But after two beers, she forgot that.

Lost with Zoey among the strangers from around the world, Joan forgot all about her aversion to dancing and her image: she tore up the dance floor with jig after mindless jig. Of course, the fact that Zoey was pulling her along and laughing and holding her hands certainly helped with that.

It was a new feeling for Joan: enjoying spending time with someone. And having someone enjoy spending time with her. Charlie had never seemed to care for their date nights, he more put up with them for the promise of sex.

But Zoey clearly enjoyed being here. And more importantly, she enjoyed being her with her. So Joan let loose.

As the night went on, the locals decided it was time for a ceremony.

“We needs a couple of volunteers!” Mayor Claude declared, “Who wants to be Newfoundlanders?”

Zoey snatched Joan’s arm and dragged her forward, not giving Joan enough time to bring her drink along. “Us!” Zoey cried, “we wanna be Newfoundlanders!!”

Joan, already a little tipsy and way too engaged in Zoey’s enthusiasm could only nod along.

Claude beamed at them. “Where are you two from?” He asked.

“California!” Zoey shouted, drowning out Joan’s murmured answer.

“What part of California are you from, ma’am?” Claude asked Joan.

“No! No!” Zoey waved her hands. “I’m from California.” She pointed at Joan. “She’s in England!”

Claude chuckled, “wait…now how does that work?”

“How does…what work?” Joan asked.

“Well how does your marriage work?” Claude inquired, “with one of you in California and the other in England?”

Zoey and Joan exchanged a quick glance, both of their faces red. Joan only just realized how close together they were standing. And in borrowed clothes and no makeup, the age difference between them seemed invisible to onlooking strangers.

“Uhhh...we’re, we’re not married…” Zoey told him. Joan was having trouble forming words.

Claude laughed again. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I thought you were…” He regarded them, seeming to read something in their embarrassed silence. “Well…” He raised an eyebrow at them, “would you like to be?”

Zoey’s face lit up. “Well why not?!” She cried. She seized Joan’s hand and lifted it up into the air. “Whoooooo!!!”

Logically, Joan knew it was the alcohol talking. Zoey herself had said earlier that she’d never had more than one beer at a time before and yet she’d watched the woman down two beers in quick succession that night.

Nevertheless, Joan, her face on fire and a stupid grin that she couldn’t justify on her face, went and got the woman two more beers.

The actual ceremony of becoming a Newfoundlander was a bizarre mix of local culture and sorority hazing.

Joan stuck by Zoey’s side as they sang a long upbeat song, tasted local food, and knocked back a horrific rum that burned her sinuses clean off.

But then came the cod.

It was a large, slimy thing that stared at them with big, dead eyes. Two local men were needed to hold it up.

And to Joan’s horror, the final part of becoming a Newfoundlander was kissing this dead fish.

“I’m not kissing a fish!” She declared.

“I will if you will!” Zoey promised, her face a pleasant shade of red from the alcohol. It was hard to dismiss that face. Joan eyed the thing distastefully as another volunteer puckered their lips and kissed the scales.

But they’d come this far…and it couldn’t be worse than kissing Charlie after sushi night, could it?

“Oh my god…” Closing her eyes, Joan pursed her lips and leaned forward. She pecked as soon as she felt something cool and slimy and darted back, retching.

It was worse. But only barely.

But when her turn came, Zoey balked. “I can’t do it!” She exclaimed, covering her face with her hands.

“Come on, I did it!” Joan protested, elbowing her forward. “Pucker up!”

“You gotta kiss a cod, it’s a vital part of the ceremony!” Claude insisted.

But Zoey backed off again, shaking her head and giggling. “I can’t do it!”

Claude chuckled. “Okay, I tell you what. I’ll make you a deal.” He pointed to the cod. “Either you kiss this fish…” His finger slid to Joan. “Or you kiss this English-woman that you’re ‘not married to’.”

Zoey didn’t even hesitate. In a single motion, she launched herself at the taller woman and wrapped an arm around her waist.

Startled, Joan could only catch her. Since she wasn’t wearing heels, their faces were mere inches apart. Zoey pressed forward. Their lips met and held in a glorious kiss. All around them, the room erupted in yips and cheers.

Zoey broke away after a second, grinning stupidly and completely red in the face. Then, as if nothing had happened, she grabbed Joan’s hand and pulled her back into the crowd of dancers.

Joan couldn’t stop looking at her the rest of the night.

***

The word finally came down early on Saturday: the FAA was going to open the airspace back up.

Captain Bass got in contact with their flight and informed them that they’d be leaving as soon as it was possible so they shouldn’t travel too far from their shelters.

Zoey managed to convince Joan to take one last walk with her. She’d heard about a nearby geologic marvel called the Dover Fault from Annette and thought it might be the perfect last hurrah.

They clambered up what felt like several thousand stairs carved into the cliff, panting and assuring the other that they were okay.

Finally, they crested the edge and gazed out from the overlook. The ocean crashed into the rocky inlet, scouring the ancient rocks.

“This is incredible!” Zoey called. She beckoned Joan forward. “Look! I can’t believe we’re here!” But as she stared at the gorgeous view, Zoey felt her smile start to slip away.

“I can’t believe we’re leaving…” She lamented. It all felt like a dream that was drawing to a close.

“…I don’t want to go…” Joan murmured.

Zoey turned back to her, “What did you say?”

Joan shook her head, smiling. “Oh nothing…I’m going to uh…” she held up her disposable camera that she’d purchased in town. “…to take some pictures.”

Zoey nodded. “O…okay.” She stood aside to give Joan a better shot.

She was a bit of a light-weight but Zoey remembered the night at the Legion in snatches: lively dances, delicious rum, and shouting that she wanted to be married to Joan. She remembered launching herself at Joan out of desperation to not kiss a slimy sea creature. She remembered her stomach and chest filling with fire as their lips met.

But Joan hadn’t said a word about it. Hadn’t even indicated that she remembered any of it. They continued with their walks and their discussions of technology and little things.

They didn’t talk about the kiss.

Zoey realized Joan was still pointing the camera towards her and took another step back. “No…stay where you are!” Joan called, eye still in her camera.

“Really? I’m blocking your shot!”

Joan smiled at her. “It’s perfect.”

The shutter clicked, capturing the moment in time.

Zoey felt like she should say something; tease Joan about her taking her photo or ask her if she had really meant what she’d said.

Staying here…it was a ridiculous idea. They were only here because of…because of the tragedy. They had lives of their own to get back to. But the more she thought about it, standing there on the chilly edge of a cliff on the edge of the Atlantic, going back to her life in California felt…empty.

Logically, she knew that once she was back she wouldn’t feel that way. Her family was there, and her friends, and her thesis that needed completion. There were things she loved and fulfilling work to occupy her time.

But Joan wouldn’t be there.

Zoey stared as Joan slowly lowered her camera, the device whirring to indicate it was out of film.

Joan would return to her incredible job in London, working long hours and finalizing her divorce. As the days returned to normal, she’d forget all about the redheaded college coder she’d briefly known in this place. Zoey knew she was unremarkable; a mere blip in Joan’s life. A chance encounter.

They stared at each other, standing on the edge of this chasm that marked a time when tectonic plates had unexpectedly crashed together and then separated forever.

Zoey never wanted this moment to end. If the world had stopped spinning right then and there, she would be happy.

***

They barely made it out before the hurricane made landfall. Pack-up was hasty and haphazard, with no one sure if they should keep the borrowed clothes and no one knowing how to thank the people of Gander for their incredible compassion and hospitality.

Joan and Zoey scribbled a hasty thank you across the wall closest to where their air mattresses had been. They wrote it in three languages: English, French, and binary code. Then it was back onto the buses and back to the ancient airport.

The winds were picking up and it had begun to rain as Captain Bass taxied the plane down the runway.

No one had cared about assigned seats for the flight back. Joan’s feet had followed Zoey into the Economy class and they had taken two seats in a row near the back. No one joined them in their row. Despite the utter lack of anything resembling personal space, Joan couldn’t have cared less. It was where Zoey was. And that was the only place she wanted to be.

As they picked up speed, Joan reached for Zoey’s hand but recoiled a second before she grabbed it. What was she doing? Trying to hold onto this moment? Trying to stop them from leaving?

It was too late now.

They were leaving. And she was going to return to a newly-empty life a continent and an ocean away from Zoey’s warmth and light.

The first hour of the flight was silent. Zoey kept opening her mouth like she wanted to say something but she never did. Joan didn’t know what to say. Or if she should say anything at all. Every possible thing she could say felt inadequate.

But as Captain Bass gleefully announced over the intercom that they had crossed back into US airspace, Joan glanced over at her companion. Zoey was crying, silently and intensely, as if she just couldn’t stop.

Joan immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned in, aiming for Zoey’s forehead to give her a comforting kiss.

But the plane jostled at the exact moment Zoey turned towards her.

Joan’s lips grazed the corner of Zoey’s mouth instead of her forehead.

Zoey gazed up at her, eyes wide and hopeful.

Her heart leaping, Joan shifted the angle of her mouth.

Their lips met again. And this time, they simply didn’t stop.

They kissed and canoodled for hours at the back of the plane. All around them, Joan was aware of cabin addresses and their fellow passengers drinking and sharing stories of their stay. But all she cared about was Zoey. Wrapping her arms around Zoey, playing with Zoey’s hair, kissing Zoey as often as she could. Zoey was real. These feelings were real. And like the Dover Fault, she would remain real no matter how long it was after they parted ways.

At one point, not long after Captain Bass had announced that they were now flying over California, a flight attendant paused alongside their seats, tongs ready to hand out hot towels.

“Cold towel?” She asked, smirking.

Blushing, Zoey hid her face in Joan’s neck. Joan couldn’t stop smiling.

***

But of course, they had to part ways.

There was a measure of relief among all of them as they safely touched down in LAX. If she was being honest, Zoey had been carrying a tiny knot of fear in her chest the whole flight home, a small part of her convinced their journey would end the same way as all that footage on the news.

But as soon as they were safely on the ground, that knot of fear became a hard ball of dread.

“So…” She faced Joan at the baggage claim, laptop clutched in one hand, the other hand clasped tightly in Joan’s. Zoey knew her family was anxiously waiting outside and that Joan had a connection to send her back across the Atlantic to London leaving soon.

But neither of them wanted to move.

“So…” Joan echoed, trying to smile but failing.

“So, you’ll call?” Zoey asked.

Joan squeezed her hand. “As soon as I get back.”

She leaned forward and pecked Zoey on the lips. Despite the hours of frantic making out they’d done on the plane and the drunken kiss at the Legion, it felt like their first kiss.

Joan smiled one last time and let go of Zoey’s hand.

And then Zoey was all alone.

***

Joan’s flight back to London passed like a dream. Since she’d been hastily rescheduled onto this flight (having missed her original days ago), she was stuck in Economy. And despite the fact that there were literally only six other people on the plane, she still was not permitted to move up to first class. But she hardly cared.

When she finally opened the door to her flat, she swore it had all been a dream.

Her belongings were still exactly as she’d left them, barely any dust to mark the passage of time.

So far away from New York, London bustled about as normal below her window, the fear still internal and existential for now.

But as she unpacked, Joan found the camera.

She dropped everything and ran out to find a 24-hour photo developer.

Within two hours, she held living proof that it wasn’t a dream.

Zoey, standing on the edge of the Dover Fault, her red hair flying in the ocean wind, her smile soft but fondly directed towards the lens.

Joan stroked the print, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

The flat was so empty.

***

“Hi.”

“Hey”

“How are you?”

“Good…my advisor says if I can finish my report by the end of November, I can graduate as planned.”

“That’s great!”

Zoey paused, unsure what else to say. She would call just before bed, knowing that it was about the time Joan woke up. But life got in the way and the calls had dwindled from a few per week to one per week when they were lucky. And even then, their conversations, which had flowed so effortlessly in person, barely lasted an hour before one of them had to go.

Zoey had found it increasingly difficult to remain optimistic the past few months. Everyone was just so afraid all the time. David had transferred from Manhattan to a California law school, not wanting to be so far away anymore. He’d refused to fly and instead carpooled across the country with his girlfriend Emily. Her parents spoke in hushed voices when they thought she couldn’t hear and her father increasingly watched the news over anything else.

Zoey found herself crying more often and thinking increasingly about how lucky she’d been. But that was always quickly followed by guilt. How dare she celebrate finding Joan and a small bit of happiness in the chaos when so many people were dead?

And while she didn’t feel alone, Zoey still felt unsettled. She’d told her parents about Joan but they still didn’t seem to get it. They hadn’t been in Gander. They hadn’t known the feeling of being stranded and yet feeling at peace amid all the horrors.

“Zoey?” She hadn’t spoken in awhile.

“I…I miss you.” Zoey admitted, her voice small. “I miss Newfoundland. And I know…I know we cant go back but…”

She couldn’t finish her sentence. She couldn’t tell Joan how some nights she slipped out of her dorm room and walked to the pier just so she could close her eyes and imagine she was back in Gander, Joan’s hand in hers as they looked out over the ocean. She couldn’t say just how much she needed Joan here - as she had been at the beginning of this terrifying new world - to be at her side and talk to her, hold her hand and provide comfort in the darkness.

Joan listened intently, unsure if Zoey was crying or just at a loss for words. She wanted so badly to be there. Her life since Gander had been nothing but work. Endless hours at Google and a few spare hours with her lawyer. Her flat was starting to feel stifling.

She dreamed of Gander, of long walks with Zoey, of crashing continents and salty air. She longed for a warm embrace, for soft lips on hers. Her thoughts formed dangerous plans that had her terrified. Suddenly nothing of her old life made sense…and she cared nothing for it.

“J…Joan?”

Joan sighed down the line.

They couldn’t do this. It wasn’t going to work if they were a continent apart.

“Zoey…I’m going to move to San Francisco.” She said it softly, giving those dangerous plans more leverage.

Zoey’s breath caught. “Joan…”

She barreled on. “I applied for a transfer to the main Google office…don’t try to change my mind.” Joan beseeched her, knowing Zoey was about to protest. “The divorce papers are signed, my bags can be packed in a week. I’m coming to you. If you’ll have me.” Her voice was heavy with meaning. The kind of meaning that expected an answer.

Zoey let out a shaky exhale, clutching the phone cord tightly in her hand. “Yes. Yes Joan.”

***

One year later

Joan gazed out over the bands of ancient rock. Now that she was really looking, she could see the bits and pieces that stood out: parts of another that had been left behind during an intimate collision.

“Remember the last time we were here?”

Joan turned to the voice, smiling. “Of course…” She wrapped her arm around the shorter woman, pulling her close as they stared over the Dover Fault. “I never wanted that moment to end.”

Zoey took her hand, finger rubbing the smooth plane of the brand new golden band around Joan’s finger.

“It didn’t.”

Because like the continents, when the world had crashed together in a moment of upheaval, they had found some small, beautiful thing to cherish from the chaos.

#zoey x joan #zoey's extraordinary playlist #come from away #crossover #angst and tragedy #Emotional Hurt/Comfort #the crossover no one asked for #the author is clearly just mashing together two things they very much enjoy and seeing what happens

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jade-untamed · 5 years ago

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The Untamed Ep. #5 Re-watch

please enjoy this selection of text messages I spammed my best friend with in reaction to Ep 5. this got a little long and out of hand but I just have a lot of thoughts on these boys

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Wei Ying is just so happy to see Lan Zhan. Lan Wangji doesn’t understand it And how cute! After their little fight Wei Wuxian reaches out and adjusts Lan Wangji’s sleeve where it blew up with the wind There he goes blaming Wangji again like take some damn responsibility bby Then Wei Wuxian starts spouting nonsense (not actually nonsense. My take is that Lan Wangji is actually very interested in who keeps sneaking to the back hills and how it might relate to the spirit snatch but also his uncle gave him an order and he has to follow it) so he grabs Wei Wuxian and starts dragging him back And the way Wei Wuxian just can’t stop glancing at Lan Wangji (who has no time or patience left for Wei Ying at this point) like he’s sizing him up and just as intrigued by him as Lan Wangji is by Wei Ying Wei Wuxian pays him a genuine compliment and Wangji doesn’t even react like he gets so many compliments in a day they don’t phase him (which is honestly why Wei Ying’s insults probably get to him so much tbh) And Lan Wangji is shocked when Wei Wuxian calls him Lan Zhan and feels bad for ignoring him for a lil bit. And when Wei Wuxian asks him why he hates him he doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t hate him at this point. He never really did. But then Wei Wuxian just keeps talking and walking and then blames Wangji again and he’s just like *ignores* BUT the next thing that gets a reaction out of Wangji is Wei Ying saying he’ll kneel for him and I think that’s very telling. I think it’s the start of the don’t flirt unless you mean it mentality Lan Wangji brings up later in the cave and that’s why he silences Wei Wuxian after that in the library. When Wei Wuxian draws the portrait of Lan Wangji I think this moment strikes me so much because it’s one of the first times Wangji feels truly seen. He’s been told he’s hard and rigid and has been the perfect disciple under the strict order of his uncle and brother but then Wei Wuxian captures the essence of him. He draws a flower in his hair. And it’s not meant as a slight in any way. It’s because Wei Wuxian sees the gentleness inside of Wangji that so few else do. And Wei Wuxian asks if it’s boring. Is it boring to have one’s self be seen by another? Will Lan Wangji think it’s boring? Does he say that as a defense mechanism to things that he knows will be distracting? Do you think Lan Wangji keeps calling Wei Wuxian boring in the beginning because he’s trying to convince himself the other boy is uninteresting when he’s obviously interesting enough to capture Lan Wangji’s attention and he hates it? Or does he say it when Wei Wuxian is being particularly interesting one moment and then acting like everyone else the next? Because everyone else bores him except for Wei Wuxian? AND THEN the scandalized look on Lan Wangji’s face when he sees the risqué picture and gets mad enough to throw propriety out the window and call Wei Ying by his formal name. And boy is ready to fight™ because that’s the only valid way for him to express his emotions because he’s emotionally repressed and is this flirting? Is this teasing? Is this being bullied? What is this? He’s never had someone do or say the stuff to him that Wei Wuxian does and says. And he tells Wei Wuxian to piss off and idk why but that’s so funny to me And he’s just like fine I’ll piss off im good at that anyway. Like bby. And when there’s a breach in the ward Wangji thinks it’s Wei Ying (also the smile Lan Xichen gets on his face when Lan Wangji calls the other boy by that name I DIE because Lan Wangji has probably not ever been familiar enough with anyone outside of family to use their formal name) and Xichen casually lets him know it’s not in fact Wei Ying. And Lan Wangji is just like ??? How did I get it so wrong? He’s such a trouble maker you sure bro? But he knows deep down his brother is right Also just. The sibling relationships. I have a whole essay I’m going to write one day on the level of devotion these characters display for one another. They show love through deep and endless devotion to each other and I think that’s really neat. Wangji all itS aGAInST tHe RuLeS when Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng show up with Wen Qing to help fight the water ghosts Trying to say they don’t need help Xichen fighting a smile cuz he knows Wangji’s just being like that because he feels awkward and then invites them anyway. And Wangji’s is like ET TU Like bro how dare you see through me like this I’m trying to be aloof and unapproachable and you’re *literally* making them approach me And then Lan Xichen to casually mention it looked to him like Lan Wangji wanted them to go. THE MORTIFYING ORDEAL OF BEING KNOWN And Xichen’s all...wasn’t I right? And Lan Wangji’s just like bro I’m having a crisis I don’t even like the guy but he’s also the only person who really sees me besides you and idk how to feel about that and also I think he’s really misunderstood and you seem to think that too and you approve of him so he has to be good because you’re good. And I...also approve of him? Most of the time? And people say I’m good so, again, he has to be good. And he is, I think, good and kind. But he gets under my skin so much and idk why. Do you know why, Xichen? You have to know why since you see through me and invited them even though I was trying so hard to play it cool But also the wording Xichen uses “you seemed to want the two boys to go together” and again Wangji sees how deeply Wei Wuxian values his familial ties and it makes him soft Wei Wuxian wanting to make a bet with Lan Wangji that the water ghosts aren’t actually water ghosts. And him smiling and saying I bet we think the same. Wangji says it boring because WEI WUXIAN IS THE ONLY ONE ON HIS LEVEL AND HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW IT. Wangji’s like yeah we probably will think the same goddamnit you’re too fucking smart for your own good why are you the way you are. But he’s right, is the thing. And for some reason Wangji can’t stand it that Wei Wuxian already knows him this well. Boring. NO BRO ITS NOT YOURE JUST IN GAY PANIC MODE Wei Ying being the first to suspect the spirit snatching and the water ghosts that aren’t water ghosts are related. Xichen being like nah my dude. But Wangji being like hm and then Wei Ying being like you think your bro is hiding something? And Wangji would never actually say it but Wei Wuxian READS IT ON HIS FACE and doesn’t even realize he’s kind of just up-ended Lan Wangji’s world by the ease with which he reads him and he keeps talking without realizing the gravity of what happened and Lan Wangji gets annoyed and spills out his liquor in retaliation because he’s actually just a little emotionally stunted and doesn’t know how to handle his feelings Wangji being high key impressed by how Wei Wuxian can tell the water ghosts was under his boat but also mad at himself for not noticing it first like smh he’s supposed to be one of the best cultivators in the world and this Boy over here saw it before him. Boring. (It’s not actually boring at all and he knows this. It’s interesting. Very very interesting. But Lan Wangji doesn’t know why it’s so interesting to him) Lan Xichen calling Wei Ying an expert and Lan Wangji being *rageragerage* about it because of the above but Wei Ying thinking he’s glaring because he got splashed a little is the epitome of how bad these two are when it comes to miscommunication So when Wei Ying walks over on the boat and is all whisper whisper nudge nudge we have an understanding now right? And Lan Wangji being as eloquent as ever is just like wahhh stay away from me And it very obviously hurts Wei Ying’s feeling for real but he tries to hide it because he’s TRYING so hard to be Lan Wangji’s friend and every time it feels like he gets somewhere Wangji takes two steps back And it’s actually a beautiful kind of dance that goes on for the whole story because even if it is one step forward two steps back they are always parallel to each other even when on different paths because they are the only two who can keep up with each other and that’s what sets them apart. One light one dark, yin and yang. Two sides to the same coin. Wei Ying being like *take me by the heart when you take me by the hand* LAN ZHAN WHY ARENT YOU TAKING ME BY THE HAND and Wangji like I don’t touch other people And Wei Wuxian is like dude you’ve touched me before. Bro we are intimate. Remember that time I almost went on my knees for you? Bro take my hand And when Wen Ning gets all ~white soulless eyes~ Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are the only two who see Wei Wuxian checking up on his bff Wen Ning because he genuinely cares and giving him a protection talisman and telling Wen Qing that even if she’s up to no good and making trouble in the neighborhood he still wants to help Wen Ning be safe. I think that’s very sexy of him Wangji talking to Xichen and being like hey remember when Wei Ying was like these two things are related right? And you were like nah. Well I think he was right how about you? But then immediately after that Wei Wuxian gives him a fruit and he’s like FUCK YOUR CHICKEN STRIPS LOQUATS and yeets it away (Like he wishes he could yeet his feelings) Xichen again like you want some? I’ll buy you some! But Lan Wangji unfortunately probably has a long history with denying himself the things he wants and the things Wei Wuxian is awakening in him are just another thing to repress so he rejects all acts of kindness from the other man for fear that giving in once will be the start of his slow descent into something he’s never allowed himself to experience before and can’t even properly allow himself to even want.

#the untamed #cql #the untamed episode 5 #wei wuxian #lan wangji #commentary #the untamed commentary #wei ying #lan zhan

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angryangryaces · 5 years ago

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Poison

The air smells of rain, burning fuel, and the countless small poisons that circulate in the city, and my scars ache in the cold, a filigree of pain tracing out the lines of my skeleton. My damned, addicted brain is hissing for me to press the button. I don’t listen to it. I throw my bag into the transport and pick a seat.

“Caller” walks us through the job on the way in. It’s straightforward: get in, grab a prototype from the testing labs, get out again. Minimal casualties, which is why he told us to bring hammerblow rounds. Ideal for a pack that doesn’t want to make the news.

One of the others looks at the chain holding my gun to my wrist. Must be a rook. They’ll learn. You can always tell a seasoned wolf; they stop looking at your little tricks and secrets and just let you get on with your job.

As we come in for a landing, I pull my hat down and make sure my kerchief is going to hide my rebreather. Combined with the goggles and the coat, it should be almost impossible for the watching gargs and other cameras to tell who I am. I’ve already checked my gear: submachine gun, machete, grapnels, a few kinds of blasting charge, a couple of different poisons.

***

The windows break the neon light from outside into rainbow fragments, which play over my coat. The stylised illustration of a winged figure giving gifts from heaven isn’t spiritual; it’s marketing. The gifts being dispensed have brand logos on them for the corp’s subsidiaries.

One of them has the stylised atom of Nucleus Energy on it, and my scars flare into pain for a split second. I know it’s psychological. I grit my teeth behind my collar and carry on.

Phase one is a cakewalk. “Caller” had some inside intel that this part of the building was going to be low-security, and that seems to be working fine: the rook, who I’ve learned is called “Mooch”, is keeping the cameras under control, looping some footage so none of them pick us up. It’s not going to last forever, but it doesn’t have to; we’re not under any given eye for too long, and most of the gargs are outside.

The next corridor is wrong. The walls are riddled with bullet holes and carved with a filigree of blade marks. The mutilated bodies of corpsec guards are everywhere, limbs wrenched from their sockets and throats ripped out. Even through my rebreather, I can smell blood and gunfire, mingled with another smell: a thick, animal musk.

I’ve heard the rumours – everyone has, everyone knows this is happening, no matter how hard corpsec try to suppress it – but I hadn’t expected to see it here. You never do, right? It’s always a friend of a friend that runs into this shit.

This is going to suck.

***

“Mooch” is the first to pull the trigger. Not wise, exactly, but I can’t blame them; the dead guards are mute testimony to how deadly these things are, and it’s not like a full pack in tac gear is exactly subtle. Within seconds, everyone else has joined in. Hammerblow rounds patter off its hairy, gore-spattered skin like rain. A couple of them provoke flinches, leave a mark, but don’t slow it much.

It looks like someone took a very large, feral wolf and mashed it up with a man. Its head is mostly canine, although its teeth are larger than any reasonable animal’s, but the rest of it is chimeric: its apelike stance and powerful arms are human, or at least close to it, but its tail and hair are lupine, and its clawed hands aren’t really either. It’s also covered in blood and shreds of what might, once, have been a corpsec uniform.

It howls in fury and leaps at us.

***

According to “Mirai”, it’s all the fault of the veins and the other rich bastards. Says some conspiracy site put her onto it. Supposedly, the reason corpsec guards are so loyal to the veins, so weird and bootlicky, is that the labs figured out some kind of gene treatment, isolated the stuff from dogs that makes them so loyal, and the suits give it to the When it goes too far, they change, when the scum at the top finish draining their humanity.

“Sigismund” says she’s full of shit. Genetics don’t work like that, and even if there was some secret tampering going on, it’d be more likely to lead to cancers than monsters. Mind you, he thinks it’s magic, so I’m not sure how reliable he is on the science. (He’s got a wild set of ideas about that, too. According to him, the beasts are nature unfettered, lashing out at the corp-choked world in a violent frenzy. Says he’s trying to figure out how to use that power constructively. Hasn’t gotten anywhere yet.)

Right now, though, the cause isn’t particularly critical. It doesn’t matter if it was made by mad science or black magic or if creatures like this are just a thing now. It’s bearing down on me, and there isn’t much I can do to stop it.

I hit the button.

***

Not a literal button, of course; jek doesn’t use physical controls. Instead, I mutter the activation phrase, and a pain like cold fire stabs into my veins as the injectors pump poison into my bloodstream. My whole body convulses, and the cold fire begins to heat up. The part of me that’s given in, the addict in my mind, it tinges the whole process with an edge of lust that shames me. Even so, I’m not stupid enough to pick this fight without it.

The effect is almost immediate. My gear feels like it’s made from cotton candy. My original bones would have already shattered from the convulsion, but the substitutes are doing their job. My vision fogs around the edges, but it’s almost supernaturally clear at the centre – I can make out the beast’s individual hairs, and the shattered remnants of a corpsec radio headset dangling from its neck like a collar.

I give it a burst in the face before it hits me. I can tell it felt the impacts, but it barely slows before tackling me to the ground and knocking my gun out of my hands. Fine by me; the bullets aren’t helping much anyway. The others will have to go on, take care of the mission while I fight. It’s probably best; jek isn’t just physical, and it’s poison for a pack. Nobody on jek is a team player.

The force of the tackle rolls us into the last corridor, but my armour protects me from the impacts. Coat’s not going to be salvageable, though; it has claw marks in it now. Without the jek, I’d have been knocked a lot sillier than I am.

As the beast lunges for me, I bring up my machete. It doesn’t dig deep, but jek-fuelled muscles drive it through the skin. The beast’s blood is surprisingly bright – what little of it comes out, anyway.

It seems to have decided I need to be tenderised before I’m eaten. It scoops me up and slams me into the wall. My goggles dim; the beast has its back to a window, and the neon light from outside would be streaming into my eyes, so they’ve compensated.

Then it all comes to me at once: the window could be my solution here. The beast is recovering quickly; it’s already stopped bleeding. I’m not going to win this one-on-one, and if the pack know what they’re doing, they’ve already headed for the objective. I have to do something unexpected.

I fire one of my wrist grapnels. It hits the window, and the motors whirr. It’s designed for heavy loads, and after a frozen moment while it calculates the weight, it retracts, dragging both of us into the window.

The beast is surprised, but not enough to disorient it. It thrashes around, its rage twisting metal and driving tinted duraglass out of its sockets.

The window gives way, and we both go over the edge.

***

On impact with the wall, one of my charges goes off unexpectedly. My spine doesn’t enjoy it, even through the pain-deadening haze of jek, but it doesn’t do serious harm; it just blasts a chunk out of the wall and flings us into traffic. The beast sinks its jaws into my left arm, and I let go of my machete; it disappears, never to be seen again.

As we tumble, I try and find some weakness. I can’t go for its eyes with any kind of accuracy, its bones are nearly as tough as mine, and even striking at the stomach only seems to make it angrier.

Our descent is bluntly interrupted by a corpsec lighter. Our impact with the cockpit shatters the duraglass canopy, so we must have been going down pretty hard – but, fortunately, the beast hits it first. The impact solves two of my problems at once. First, while landing still hurts like a bastard, even with jek, the beast takes the brunt of the impact. Second, the beast’s breath is laden with pink froth. After a moment, the rage flees its body, and it goes limp. Probably had some of the canopy driven into its lungs; not a pleasant death, but a final one.

The lighter skews wildly off-course, and I realise after a second that the pilot is either unconscious or dead. Corpsec lighters do have autopilots, but some people prefer the personal touch or are worried about reprogramming (a valid concern; “Mirai” once sent a half-dozen corpsec troopers on a routine patrol out of state as a prank), so not everyone uses them.

I don’t have a chance to get to the controls, but luckily, we’re headed towards a window. The pain in my entire body worsens a step as I see a giant Nucleus Energy logo, and then we hit.

***

I stagger to my feet, somehow still conscious. It’s almost impossible to break my bones now, but my right leg is definitely not as straight as I remember it being.

The window in question was right next to a meeting room, apparently. A stunned silence hangs in the air, but in a few seconds – even ones drawn out by jek – people are going to start yelling and running.

The big logo on the wall confirms it. This is a Nucleus Energy office. The bastards whose strontium leak cost me everything. Their poison had seeped into my bones, forced me to get them replaced. Left me with a debt I could only pay off by taking wolf jobs here and there. All my scars, all my wounds, this growing addiction to jek – all their fault. I can’t tell if I’m hurting worse because I know it’s them, or if my body is already redlining my pain receptors.

My jek-focused perceptions show me that one of them has a refrigerator briefcase here. A vein, then, carrying his supply of transfusions around with him. I can’t tell which of the others are veins, but they all might as well be: even if they haven’t had the treatment, they have the same kind of mind. The suits in this city are all the same: cold, bloodsucking bastards, they only care about themselves. The veins took a treatment that would strip their empathy and didn’t even notice. Even before that was developed, they gutted the land, poisoned the water, pumped fumes into the air. We’d be better off without them.

The weight of my gun dangling from my wrist is still there, and with jek reflexes, I could do a lot of damage here. Start at the door, work my way across. Even a vein’s boosted body can’t take a good hit to centre mass, and none of them look to be wearing much armour.

It won’t solve much, but it’ll be a little less poison in the city’s bloodstream.

#short fiction #chrome wolves #cyberpunk #werewolves #I was working on a setting idea and this came out

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randomlynormalgirl · 5 years ago

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Joker Movie Thoughts

this is a bunch of jumbled, unstructured thoughts about the joker movie because I can’t stop thinking about it and I needed to write at least some of my thoughts down. might add to it every now and then. hope you enjoy it anyway if you end up reading it :)

MASSIVE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!!!!

watching the ‘joker’ movie felt like a very visceral experience for me. the movie manages to hold and intertwine many complicated themes alongside the plot so eloquently that I am not surprised it received an 8 minute standing ovation. I will be personally outraged if Joaquin phoenix does not receive an Oscar for his portrayal of the joker character because he manages to perfectly display the descent into madness as well as the tragedy of the movie. This movie manages to make you want to sympathise with Joker because the course of events leading up to him becoming the joker is very tragic and given the right circumstances would turn any sane man mad, yet you know you shouldn’t empathise with him because you understand he is mentally ill and that he sees violence as the only way to exact his revenge. Every scene in the movie is a trailer moment yet I didn’t feel like the movie was spoiled for me in any way.

Another aspect of the movie I liked is that Joaquin Phoenix manages to use his acting skill so well that he can subtly show how the joker’s descent into madness builds to a crescendo so spectacularly. How the first dance he does after his first kills is slow and controlled compared to that when he is fully embracing his madness and dancing on the steps so freely, because in his madness he is set free. It reminds me of Midsommar in that way slightly. Also, Joaquin’s body during the movie was also a strange sight and the dedication he put into the role to make himself look that skinny and ill simply astounded me. also, knowing that Joaquin improvised the dancing in the bathroom after Arthur's first three murders makes the scene all the more eerie to me. i hope he looked after himself after he finished filming for the movie because i dread another heath ledger situation, i don't think my heart could take it

I also appreciated that despite the amount of violence in the movie, a lot of the deaths are actually not shown. I think it’s a sign of good acting and good directing when the audience can guess what’s happened behind the scenes just from a few context clues (such as the end of the movie when he leaves the therapists office trailing bloody footprints)

I saw someone on twitter say that the joker movie is just Marxism in practise and honestly I can't fault their logic. The working class leading a violent revolution against the top 1% because they want better than the shitty lower hand they have been dealt, the fact that the newspapers in the film literally call it the 'kill the rich' revolution, the fact that Thomas Wayne literally calls them all clowns and it only ends up spurring on the revolt further. i mean, i can definitely see it.

The story is heartbreaking because it is believable. Watching as a mentally ill man is pushed to the extreme due to funding cuts for his therapy which ultimately stopped him getting the medication he needed to stay sane, poverty, an abusive childhood, a mentally ill mother whilst also living in a classist society where the working class are oppressed by people like Thomas Wayne. A good example of this to me is his first trio of murders; he only killed them because the three Wall Street type guys were going to beat him to death had he not pulled out the gun to kill them, yet it is certain that if Arthur had been killed by those men no one would care because he was not someone worth reporting on in the eyes on the media. In short, anyone below middle class in Gotham were considered nobody and they had enough. Arthur merely sparked the rebellion.

I enjoyed how the joker didn’t plan to become a political figure in the movie. He unintentionally becomes a martyr to the people of Gotham and how that tied in with the origins of batman was a very cool moment for me as part of the audience.

To add to this, the ending of the movie being dubious was an interested touch. Throughout the movie we learn that we cannot always trust Arthur’s perspective. From his fantasy of being on his idol’s TV show, down to his delusion of the romance between him and Sophie. So, the idea that the end of the movie suggesting it was all in his imagination was interesting to me. I, however, don’t subscribe to such a theory because I think the final flash of Bruce with his dead parents was the director giving us that subtle hint that this time the joker wasn’t just dreaming of being successful and loved by many, it was real this time. A slightly less important note but the aesthetic of the whole movie was just very grainy and gritty and fit the film? like the old school format, the cinematography and the fucking SOUNDTRACK. 'that's life' by Frank Sinatra is one if my favourite songs and the fact is features so heavily in this movie was a really cool moment for me? i also really liked the whole riot scene; it just felt really raw and gritty and like a true climax to the joker's story as he finally becomes the persona fully and finds his new identity as the figurehead for this revolution in Gotham

Of course, I cannot talk about this film without mentioning my beloved heath ledger and his depiction of the joker, and the references and similarities between the two. Let me make one thing clear; phoenix’s and ledger’s joker are nowhere near the same. I remember reading that Joaquin and heath were very good friends, and that Joaquin did not in anyway want to impose on heath’s legacy. He understands how legendary that role was and said while he loves that portrayal he didn’t want to be a cheap imitation. I believe he has fully achieved such a feat but I cannot help but compare. Some ‘Easter eggs’ or possible homages to heath that I recognised were:

-the scene where Arthur is in the back of the police car reminded me very much of that scene in the dark knight where joker steals the cop car (ledger / phoenix). I realise that is is also supposed to parallel the scene earlier where he is sat all sad on the bus compared to how happy he looks in the police car but i didn't quite get it straight away.

-Arthur using his own blood to paint the smile on his face (x) after the car crash reminded me of the ledger makeup look

-Arthur saying to Sophie that he ‘had a bad day’ reminded me instantly of when heath ledger’s joker said something along the lines of ‘everyone is just one bad day away from being like me’

none-Ledger related Easter eggs I noticed too were:

-the protesters laying Arthur across the hood of the crashed cop car Jesus-style to signify that he's saintly to them was a nice touch -Bruce coming down the fireman’s pole was reminiscent of the Adam west batman series where they had to come down the fireman’s pole

-the joker being attached to the death of Bruce Wayne’s parents (although less directly in this depiction)

-the font of the late night talk show is the same as batman the animated series

-I’ve seen some people say that the backdrop of the talk show is the same during the titles of the animated series too

-joker killing the host was reminiscent of the dark knight returns where joker kills the audience of a TV talk show

-apparently the look of this joker is similar to that of one of his video game iterations but I can’t find that -the sort of reference to the inspiration behind the entire joker character by having Arthur have a condition where he can't help but laugh in certain situations, when the joker was based on the film 'the man who laughs' where a man is cursed to never stop smiling no matter how much he tries -major inspiration from taxi driver, which also features Robert De Niro so its a cool touch -some kind of reference to the movie 'the king of comedy', a movie centring around a person obsessed with a tv show host which has similar plot points and also features robert de niro again which is pretty cool

#joker #joker movie #joaquin phoenix #dc #dc comics #batman #joker spoilers #joker review

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staygoldenlightning · 6 years ago

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Considering the polar vortex, these were decent outfits if I do say so myself.

As anyone in the Midwest would be absolutely thrilled to tell you, the temperatures have been subzero for the past few days. I read somewhere that it’s colder here than it is in Antarctica right now, but I don’t have any penguins’ phone numbers to call and check. But just because we seem to be entering an extremely temporary new ice age, that doesn’t mean fashion is cancelled for good!

Perhaps only to prove it to myself, I’ve been determined over the past several days to come up with outfits that still make me feel like I made an effort when really, I wish I was dressed in fleece pajamas and fluffy socks (spoiler alert: both of those things are hiding somewhere within these outfits anyway). In the spirit of Decembers past, Januaries present, and Februaries that have not yet come to pass, I thought I’d share.

In full disclosure, I didn’t wear these seven outfits consecutively, but I have worn all of them over the past two weeks, and since I have seven pictures, the title was just begging me to type it. Maybe it’ll give you some outfit inspiration or maybe you’ll just enjoy my slow descent into madness. Either way, here they are in order of how warm and cozy they were.

1. The Laura Dern

I’ve never actually seen Jurassic Park, but I don’t have to in order to know three things: 1) Laura Dern is a queen in her own right, 2) she wore the heck out of a pink button down shirt, and 3) Jeff Goldblum is the perfect man. More to the first two points, I found this pink top on major clearance at Old Navy (along with the gray t-shirt under it for ONE DOLLAR). However, when you caught me from the side, I seem to have taken a page from Bryce Dallas Howard as well, who takes her dinosaur chase scenes with a side of high-heeled shoe.

2. Should Have Stayed In Bed

Another Old Navy clearance treasure, I picked this top off the rack knowing it was technically a velvet pajama top. I bought it knowing it was a pajama top. And I wore it knowing fully in my heart that I was a pajama top and it was my little secret to keep. The material is thicker than you’d think, but I still wore my big cardigan over top because my office is in a converted warehouse, which is code for “freezing cement box.”

3. Excusez-moi?

Matt has a saying every time I ask him if I look good in a hat, and it goes a little something like, “I keep telling you; you can wear hats.” This year, I asked for a beret for Christmas, and Matt delivered with a three-pack because he truly believes in my ability to pull off head wear. This powder blue turtleneck is thin but also borderline fleecy, which makes dealing with the bell sleeves worth it.

4. Winterizing

What do you do when there are literal inches of snow on the ground and you’d give your right arm to be on the beach? Just wear your summer clothes on top of your winter clothes. Basically, I tried to take two tops that are supposed to be layering pieces in their own right and put them together in the wrong order. For some reason, the crepe material of this camisole makes the style permissible. Leopard print belt optional.

5. Ogres Have Layers

The lower the temperature drops, the more shirts I put on in the morning. While in some ways, the layering of a collared shirt under a sweater can be somewhat awkwardly bulky (and just make me look like Ellen DeGeneres), I needed more sleeves. I picked two berry tones that I think Shrek would endorse and piled them on top of each other. This was also the day I realized my leather on my legging was literally starting to peel off in the thigh area. This would be their final hurrah. RIP (literally).

6. Snowstorm Grayscale

My feet are cut off in this one, but they no longer matter, because from this point on, they only exist in my snow boots, which do not a terribly fashionable outfit make. The fuzzy socks were tucked into there because they’re the only warm waterproof shoes I have. No converse or combat boots in this many inches of snow. The collared shirt under the sweater is also here to stay, because it’s the only combination I can still trust when the wind chill is -30.

7. Collegiate Freeze

More of the same, but with a twist. The days keep getting colder, and I continue to scientifically improve my formula for maximum body heat retention. I start with a camisole (on the bottom this time). Instead of a silk or cotton shirt, I put on a toasty flannel. I top it off with one of my thickest sweatshirts, leaving no chance for wind to break through the knit of a woven sweater. Add another hat, but warmer this time. I’m wearing high-waisted jeans underneath there because I can’t spare the extra two inches of denim on my midsection. My socks and boots are inconsequential as long as it’s warm. At this point, I could have given up. I could have lost all hope and called it quits. But even in the darkest and coldest of days, fashion never gave up on me, so I cannot give up on this outfit.

A Week of Winter Outfits, From Warm to Warmest Considering the polar vortex, these were decent outfits if I do say so myself. As anyone in the Midwest would be absolutely thrilled to tell you, the temperatures have been subzero for the past few days.

#Fashion #Style #winter #Winter Outfits

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anyway-i-love-vanderwood · 8 years ago

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A MC that doesn't know how to handle feelings, let alone feelings of love

✿ Thank you @clearruby, who requested this via my Ko-Fi! (sorry it took a few days i’ve been swamped at work orz).

I’m splitting this in two because of the length. Here’s the main RFA portion! Minor Trio will arrive soon.

Yoosung

You don’t get it.

Like, just saying that doesn’t really convey your complete bafflement regarding Yoosung’s behavior. He frets about your safety constantly, he is frequently expressing affection to you, and he… seems to care… what you think about him?

What the heck?

Why?

And why you?

You’re not really, uh, a particularly personable person. In fact, it was your heretofore emotionally isolated existence that had left you perfectly happy to take this weird job where you stay in an apartment alone for over a week. It wasn’t like you had friends, anyway. It wasn’t like you talked to people.

It wasn’t like you were great at this human connection thing that everyone was going on about, so why the heck was Yoosung… interested in you?

And – what the heck is this… weird warmth in your stomach whenever he checks on you at three a.m., asking about what you’re doing and how your day has been?

It gets weirder when you start finding yourself trying to… protect him? Whenever Seven starts teasing him and tricking him into thinking he’s dying, you calmly and coldly tell Yoosung that no, that’s not the case. You soothe his worries with cold, analytical logic, and while Seven calling you a robot doesn’t bother you at all…

Something about the way Yoosung defends you and calls you great… does?

But not a bad kind of bothering, it’s like…

It’s like…

Something nagging at you that you can’t stop thinking about, like wondering if you’ve left the stove on back home, but with your heart instead of your mind.

It gets frustrating, how often you think about him. How you wonder how he’s doing at school, and think about whether he got that grade he wanted on a test or not. It’s doubly frustrating when he plays LOLOL instead of getting his work done, because for some reason, it – matters to you that he succeeds?

It’s weird. It’s stupid. Why would it affect you? But it just feels all bubbly, and weird, and –

And –

You start thinking about his face –

…Why?

Late one night, you complain to Zen about this, and he pauses for a moment before saying…

“I… think you’d call that love.”

You say no. No. That’s not. It can’t. You don’t fall in love, that’s just not you, and Zen starts laughing uproariously and tells you to test it, why don’t you? When you meet him in person, try holding his hand. If your ‘weird feeling’ gets worse, then you’ll know for certain that it’s love!

Eager to prove Zen wrong, you agree. You’ll show him. You’ll show them all! …Which is also kind of strange, come to think about it, why do you care about proving him wrong? – But you have enough questions to think about for now, so you set that aside.

It’s at the party when you do it, standing in front of the setting sun with Yoosung at your side. He’s said a lot of things that made you feel that Strange Thing – that weird flutter, the feeling like your stomach is dropping into your shoes – but you can’t isolate or examine any of them until you complete Zen’s trial.

You’re alone right now – you’d told Yoosung you’d wanted to get some air, which he’d rushed to accommodate. He said it made sense, y’know, with… how you are about people, and why did it matter to you whenever he was friendly and considerate? It was dumb, this was dumb, and spurred on by some emotion you couldn’t name, you looked away from him and grabbed onto his hand.

Yoosung sputters.

Yoosung turns into a tomato.

Yoosung practically d i e s next to you, which you don’t witness, because you felt your heart stop.

It was just… nice, this feeling of his warmth under your own, and knowing that it was Yoosung’s hand you were holding – kind, gentle, wonderful Yoosung – made it all the better.

Well. Sort of better. It also made you so dizzy that you felt like you wanted to faint, and Yoosung maybe had to catch you with his other hand when you stumbled, which brought you into a position of further physical proximity which made you both emotionally collapse even more, and then resulted in you both panicking and shoving yourselves away from each other, but.

Well.

It was exciting?

(from then on, zen – who was watching from the window because DUH HOW COULD HE NOT – resolves to get you two married asap.)

Zen

Zen is stupid and dumb and idiotic and moronic and frustrating and you don’t know WHY he’s frustrating and you don’t know how to deal with him being FRUSTRATING because you’ve always been able to RUN AWAY BUT YOU CAN’T BECAUSE YOU’RE STUCK IN THIS FREAKIN’ APARTMENT.

When you’d gotten this ‘job’, you thought it would be great. Minimal social interaction, free food, and an excuse to make yourself a complete recluse. People thought you were a weird robot devoid of the ability to make emotional connections, so why wouldn’t you want a job where you could escape them all?

(ok, trying to get people to come to the party was a little… but tbqh it was fairly easy with some basic googling and some research.)

Anyway, that was all ruined by STUPID, WEIRD ZEN, WHO KEEPS SHOWING YOU ATTRACTIVE PICTURES AND FLIRTING?? IS THIS FLIRTING??? WITH YOU and MAKING YOU FEEL WEIRD.

People asked for a selfie, so you took one, and he spent literally thirty minutes gushing over it.

Is this a joke?

Is he playing a trick on you?

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HUMOR, you can’t tell if your leg is being pulled, here!

You spend multiple evenings on your bed, flopped on the covers and sulking over this development.

You just… can’t deal with this?

and why does it make you feel so funny when he gushes over you?

Why does it make you feel so funny, being told that he’s spending a lot more time in the chat ever since you came around…?

UGH. WHY DOES HE HAVE TO BE SO HANDSOME? This isn’t your opinion – it’s objective fact!

(cue more annoyed rolling.)

Zen is… amused by all of this, and he takes the opportunity to tease you more. Like, obviously he wants to start dating you asap – this boy is desperate – but he’s also loving watching you go through this period of emotional turmoil. You’ve told the chat a little about yourself; you don’t do Feelings, and it’s making him pleased as punch that he’s becoming an exception.

…He’s surprisingly gentle with you when he meets you in person.

Oh, he keeps courting you, obviously. Flowers, chocolates, dates. But he’s patient and kind and lets you figure things out at your own pace. He’s enjoying this slow, prolonged descent into you accepting your feelings, and he really enjoys the process of seeing you work through it.

Ok, so sometimes it means he gets punched in the shoulder because you don’t have any other way to process the turmoil of flirting, but it’s always just a smack, and he’s tough anyway.

Zen’s loyal. He’ll wait as long as it takes for you to accept that the ‘weird sickness’ you get whenever he’s around is love.

[Jaehee, Jumin and Seven are under the read-more!]

Jaehee

Ohhboy.

Welcome to Friendship Simulator 5,000, where neither of you can really process that your relationship is... uh… not entirely platonic.

Jaehee’s route is already about her processing the feeling of becoming ‘friends’ with someone, so your descent into emotional closeness is actually a pretty gentle one with her. Yeah, it’s weird that you suddenly find yourself supporting someone so much and being supported in return… but Jaehee makes for a welcoming, accepting partner to discuss these things with.

She’s so reliable that you feel like you can tell her your fears. You say that you’re terrified she’ll leave and then you’ll be left floundering, with no idea what to do or how to deal with your feelings. You say that you’re scared of intimacy, that you have trust issues, because… duh, she has them too.

You don’t really know what to make of the u t t e r f u r y that encompasses you when you hear how Jaehee’s foster family treated her. In fact, it leaves you with a busted hand and a hole in the plaster of Rika’s apartment that you aren’t sure how to explain. It’s – weird! You’ve never gotten this mad for someone before!

But Jaehee is kind, and – and she doesn’t deserve that!

You struggle. You talk to Jaehee. You have a calm conversation that’s conducive to opening up your feelings.

Like the flowers in spring, something starts to bloom in your heart.

You don’t realize what it is until almost a year later, when you and Jaehee are opening the café one day… and even then, you don’t realize the full depth of what it is you’re experiencing.

You just know in that moment, watching the morning sun pool on her shoulders and ghost across her hair, that you want Jaehee to be in your life. Forever.

…It’s a feeling that’s desperate and wanting and hurting, but it’s also warm and supportive. You’ve never felt anything like it before, but you also know that you wouldn’t change a single aspect of it for the world.

Jumin

oh christ.

Neither of you understand an appropriate and proper way to moderate Feelings, and the both of you find different ways to be BAD at it.

Jumin gets, uh. Y’know. Possessive, doesn’t want to let you out of his sight for fear you’ll be hit by a car, etc. You get tetchy because intellectually, you understand this Isn’t Okay, but the emotionally compromised, affection starved inner part of you is like, woah, he cares so much! Frustrated with these feelings and also your inability to properly negotiate boundaries with him, you often close yourself off and sulk.

Jumin doesn’t want to make you sad, so he sulks, and by the end of it Jaehee is dealing with two miserable adult-children which she isn’t prepared at all to handle because HOO BOY GUESS WHO ELSE HAS EMOTIONAL ISSUES??

all y’all need therapy i s2g

anyway you’re falling for jumin, and also have no idea how to describe or properly articulate your feelings regarding jumin. you get annoyed when women fawn over him but are confused about why, because why should it matter to you? what will it affect? what stake do you have in this?

The closest you come to mentally resolving this internal conflict is deciding that, well, you LOVE Elizabeth the III, like - love. like, you’d die for this stupid cat, and Jumin dating someone would probably limit your access to her, so you’re jealous of these women not because they’re around Jumin, but because they’re limiting your Elizabeth time.

In the end, it’s JUMIN who accepts his love of you first, and who tries to express to you that he’d like to be a couple. You tell him that you’re very flattered but obviously, this warm, fuzzy, gooey feeling in your chest is only a response to his cat, so you can’t date him.

(i want to emphasize how many times zen has bashed his head against the wall in the background by this point.)

Anyway, Jumin is crushed by this idiotic rejection, and since he’s not used to this whole… loving and then not having thing, he goes into a downward mope-spiral. This makes you feel guilty and sad, which are both things you’re bad at dealing with, but you also realize that you kind of want to hug him and make him feel better?

like… that’s weird.

This drama is too much for Zen, so even though he hates Jumin the cat freak, he decides to help a bro out by sitting you down and forcing you to confront yourself. It takes like five straight hours of bickering with you to prove that, yes, you do like jumin - seriously, he needs a powerpoint and documented evidence - but afterwards, you’re like…

oh.

You’re also scared because, OH SHIT, you just- rejected him! he probably hates you now! you can never show your face again… no, not just that, you need to run away to another country! another continent! another planet!

N o, zen says, and he grabs your arm, drags you to a flowershop to buy an ‘I’m-Sorry-I’m-an-Idiot-Bouquet’, and then brings you to Jumin’s apartment to talk.

JUST TALK, YOU MORONS.

AND BE HONEST…!

after what is, quite possibly, the worst confession in the world, Jumin hugs you, and the two of you can be emotionally repressed, touch-starved idiots Together.

707 (Saeyoung)

somewhere, the combined forces of cupid and Aphrodite create a new ocean from their tears, because gdi you are a matchmaker’s worst nightmare.

You don’t get Seven’s jokes. They’re weird. He’s weird. You don’t understand why he says this stuff.

You also don’t understand why he talks to you, why he seems fascinated by you, and why he laughs with such force after hearing your deadpan responses over the phone. It’s bizarre! It’s peculiar!

You know you’re a robot, and he knows you’re a robot, so... why does he keep pestering you?

You can only think that he’s some kind of weird sadist, and you continue on as normal (while sighing and rubbing your head each time you’re the punchline of his bizarre humor.)

Seven doesn’t get why you’re so hilarious, but holy crap, you really are the greatest straight man in the world, aren’t you?

You’re like Jumin but better, because your sincere naivety isn’t tainted by you being ruthless, capitalist, bourgeoisie scum. You’re odd, you’re different, you don’t understand basic things (like the human emotions you’re so used to repressing) and he’s fascinated every time he talks to you!

He can never predict you! He can never anticipate what you’ll say! Interacting with you isn’t like the mundane, routine call-and-response shticks he has with the rest of the RFA...

Talking to you makes him feel like he’s flying on the clouds!

--But only because you’re entertaining, right?

He’s definitely not pestering you because he’s head-over-heels in love. That’d be ridiculous! Preposterous! Unthinkable.

...This is how things go, until you’re put in danger from the bomb.

You take things cooly. What, you’re supposed to be scared? Hah! The last time you felt fear was when you were eight and just learning that no one would come and help you fight the monsters in the closet. You’d truly understood then that, if you wanted things done, you’d have to do them yourself, and feeling fear wasn’t part of the equation.

...Feeling anything wasn’t part of the equation, really...

Seven takes things less cooly. he is, in fact, flipping out, because holy shit you’re in danger holy shit it’s his fault holy shit he’s so worried about you and -

...Why is he so worried, precisely?

(You ask him this question repeatedly. He’s only known you for a few days. The lengths to which he’s going to ruin his life for your sake are ridiculous, aren’t they?)

But for some reason, it’s precisely because you think they’re ridiculous that he wants to try so hard to help you.

You don’t get it. He doesn’t get it. You kind of fight about it but he won’t stop. and neither will you stop worrying about him because for some reason...

You want to save him, too.

Everyone else realizes it’s love long before you two do, and the both of you manage to navigate the Mint Eye situation without ever once beginning to acknowledge how you feel about each other.

There are plenty of strange declarations of emotion. When Seven is letting his brother take his repressed rage out on him, you step in and force them to talk. When Saeran is struggling, you try to watch over him, because it’s stressing Seven out, and you want Seven to be happy.

You stay up late, listening to Seven’s worries, and tell him he’s a dipshit in the morning when he tries to brush them aside. Occasionally, you do the same in return, though you’re less likely to back away from having expressed emotion. You’re just...

Confused. And lost. And don’t know how to deal with being strangely concerned about him. You make a million excuses, which Zen and Yoosung shoot down a million times because they just want to see you happy with someone, okay?

And you love Seven so much! And he loves you so much!

It’s dumb!

They do everything in their power to set you up on dates, which ends up with you and him bumbling past your feelings like two navigationally challenged ships passing in the night. It’s impressive, really. Even Vanderwood is annoyed by watching you two. The only thing that Zen can think to do...

Is try to make Seven jealous by flirting with you.

This is a bad plan. This is a stupid plan. But Zen is also kind of a stupid man, so he undergoes it with gusto, trying to ‘woo’ you while attempting to inspire some feelings of jealousy in Seven.

and it. works? sort of?

Like, you don’t understand you’re being flirted with, but you do get kind of flustered once which makes Seven feel w e i r d.

and obviously, since Seven loves running from anything even approaching genuine emotion, shuts down and avoids to problem.

He stops talking to you.

This pisses you off for reasons you don’t quite understand, and with only a very poorly thought out plan in mind, you march to his apartment and BANG ON THE DOOR UNTIL SOMEONE LETS YOU IN BECAUSE THIS IS ENOUGH.

YOU ARE DONE.

YOU FINALLY JUST GET SO ANGRY AT SEVEN ACTING DUMB AND NOT LETTING YOU CARE FOR HIM THAT YOU ADMIT BOTH TO YOURSELF AND TO HIM THAT YOU DO.

THAT YOU ARE HIS FRIEND.

THAT YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE HIM HURT.

that you... like him.

“...so please... stop ignoring me, okay?”

(saeran lets you in, grabs his brother by the scruff of his neck, and forces you to talk.)

That talk doesn’t really get you into the date-zone yet, much to everyone’s chagrin, but it puts you far closer to the vicinity of romance than either of you have been willing to trudge into up to this point. There’s practically a second RFA party held in honor to commemorate you holding hands with him, and five years later, when you’re finally married, Zen openly bursts into tears as he watches you go down the aisle.

FINALLY.

FINALLY, IT WORKS OUT.

#mysme #mysme headcanons #mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanons #mysme reactions #mystic messenger reactions #mysme imagines #mystic messenger imagines #long post #mystic messenger spoilers #mysme spoilers #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #zen #jumin han #707 #luciel choi

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