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sailoryooons · 4 months

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King of Tides | KSJ | Drabble

☾ Pairing: Pirate!Seokjin x Sea Demon!Reader

☾ Summary: Seokjin meets a ghost of his past when he and his crew stop to celebrate for the evening.

☾ Word Count: 1,969

☾ Genre: Pirate AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: References to smut, explicit language, weapons and mentions of murder, betrayal, vague world building, Seokjin is an Asshole, brief references to childhood trauma, angst.

☾ Published: Friday, January 5, 2024

☾ A/N: Drabble 2 of the 100 Drabble Challenge is prompt #67, pirates! I had no idea what I was doing with this until I wrote it. It is obviously inspired by Pirate of the Caribbean with the whole Davy Jone’s chest thing, but I very much put my own spin on it. The ring is inspired by Solomon’s Ring, which is a Christian-centric mythology that Solomon had a ring that could summon the forces of Hell. So I did that but like… sea hell hahaha. I hope you enjoy this! I’ts very different for me!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Seokjin is used to the occasional knife in the dark. As one of the most notorious captains and thieves on the seven seas, he’s even been the knife in the dark himself.

When he feels the pressure of a blade against his spine tonight, he’s not surprised. His crew is too drunk to see the threat standing behind their captain, and Seokjin has made the ridiculous mistake of letting a pretty woman lure him to a dark table in the corner, away from the noise and celebrating.

Seokjin immediately feels like a fool for letting his guard down, the worst mistake he could ever make.

The pretty girl in front of him grins and looks at Seokjin’s assailant before nodding her head and slipping from the chair. He grits his teeth, realizing she is in on it. He clenches his fist as he starts to turn, but the knife digs into his ribs. A hard push would send it right between the two of them and into a lung. It would be a slow, gross death.

The raucous noise of the tavern buzzes in his ear as a hand taps his shoulder, signaling for him to stand. He does so slowly, looking around the tavern to see if there’s anyone he can appeal to for his plight.

No one pays him any mind, hands going up dresses or down pants, wine flowing, and crowd singing. His crew is too busy celebrating. And why shouldn’t they? They’ve just stopped at their favorite port after a successful three years of hunting a timeless piece of treasure. A power that puts Seokjin on edge.

The ring sits heavy in Seokjin’s pocket. Only Yoongi his firstmate and Namjoon his chronicler know of the power in Seokjin’s pocket, too dangerous to be left on the ship with the remainder of the treasure. He doesn’t enjoy hiding the ring from his crew, but he hasn’t quiet yet decided what to do with it. How to explain what it is that it does without scaring the loyal members of his crew.

Slowly, a hand turns Seokjin around and walks him toward the stairs, still at knifepoint. He grins as he goes, leaning his head to the side to see the person who holds him captive. The knife digs harder into his back, a warning that makes him chuckle and turn forward, holding his hands up in defeat.

“If you wanted to lure me to your bed, you just had to ask,” he says, going up the steps. His boots are heavy on the creaking wood as he goes. “I am the most handsome of pirates, but I’m also quite liberal with my affections.”

His captor says nothing as they reach the second landing. Doors line either side of the hall. Seokjin can detect all manner of lovemaking and laughter beyond each closed door. He does not typically favor staying upstairs or renting rooms for whores, preferring the rocking of the ship in the harbor and the canvas of the night sky. It makes him unfamiliar with the second floor, but he counts his steps as they go.

They turn and go down another hall and stop at the last door of the right. It’s not a far run to get to the stairs and sound the alarm. Once he disarms his captor, he just needs to sprint and scream. He’s pretty quick on his feet and-

The knife prods him and he realizes the door to the room is open. He steps over the threshold into the room, glancing around. It’s simple enough. A single bed stands in the corner with a chest at the foot, a nightstand to the left, and a candle burning, smoke drifting toward the ceiling.

When the door shuts behind him, Seokjin’s muscles coil. He prepares to spring, hand sliding into the front of his jacket pocket, inching towards the small knife there-

“Don’t bother,” the voice says, knife ever-present. Seokjin’s hand freezes, recognizing the rasp of your voice anywhere. “That’s not the right knife, Captain.”

You’re right. The knife in his jacket pocket would do nothing against you, but the knife in his boot would. He’d grown lazy, no longer keeping the adamas dagger at his hip or within close reach. Three years haven’t made him feel safe, exactly, but he had started to think that you were still captive in that little home he’d left you in.

Evidently, it’s a mistake that will cost him.

Now he’s nervous. You push him further into the room with your palm but remove the knife from his back. He doesn’t reach down to the weapon in his boot, stuck between fear and the desire to see you - to talk to you again.

When he turns, his heart cracks open and starts to bleed.

The last time Seokjin saw you is fresh in his memory. You’d been chained to the bed you shared in a small island home off the coast of the Americas. He remembers the smell of your skin, like salt and driftwood. The cool touch of your lips against his burning skin. You always felt like the depths of the ocean, every part of you fluid as you’d fucked him last night, your breath sea breeze against his mouth, cries a haunting siren song.

And your eyes. Seokjin sees the inhuman blue-green glow of your eyes every night.

Now, those same eyes are staring at him, glowing in the dark. You stand so far in the shadows that it’s hard to make out any of your features or expressions, but Seokjin has your face burned into every part of his memory. The bow of your mouth, the slope of your nose, the roundness of your cheeks. It’s all there along with the knowledge that he’d betrayed you. Chained you. Loved you.

When you step into the light, Seokjin holds his breath. You’re so beautiful. It’s what lured him to you in the first place, a sailor to a siren, but he knows you’re so much more than a pretty face and glowing eyes. You’re also incredibly smart and wicked, a ruthlessness in you as brutal as the sea running in your veins, an unpredictably like a storm destroying the tropics.

A pirate by trade. Daughter of Leviathan by nature.

“You must be talented to get out of those cuffs. We should have used them more” Seokjin doesn’t know what else to say. You’re not advancing further into the room, and he’s worried reaching for his knife will startle you.

Behind him, the candle casts an orange glow on your face. It makes the sneer much more twisted, the furrowed brows as you glower harsher. Your features are sharper than he remembers, your eyes burning with the unnatural glow of a demon of the deep. You are murderous.

“I’m the favorite daughter of Leviathan, King of the Depths, Destroyer of Seas, and Maker of Tides. You think he would leave me to rot?”

“No, I suppose he doesn’t want that pretty face to wilt.” He tries to appear casual, spinning and tossing himself on the bed. You don’t move, eyes tracking him. “I suppose you’ve been following me all this time, then?”

“I have far more important things to do.”

“Perhaps, but you’d always loved revenge.”

“I loved you.”

There. You said it.

Seokjin doesn’t say anything for a moment, shocked to silence. Usually, you like to spar with your words, dancing around what you want to say with quick barbs and turns of phrase. Tonight, you cut right to it, leaving all playfulness out of your voice.

It makes his heart squeeze painfully. In the years that you sailed together, he cannot recall a time that you’ve ever been so direct. Even when you loved him most. Even when you were at your most vulnerable.

Perhaps you are here to kill him after all.

“So you’re here to win me back over?” he tries, desperate to get on familiar ground. Desperate to goad you. To make you snap back, to throw an insult. “You’ll need more than a knife to do that.”

“Give me the ring.”

“What do you want with it?”

“The likes of you shouldn’t have the power to summon the demons of the depths.”

“What if I’m in peril and need to call you?”

“You had me!” You roar, the force of your voice shaking the room, the candle almost guttering, the window panes shaking. He hears the scream downstairs, the entire building rattle with the rage of the ocean in your voice.

Seokjin drops the act, sitting up and squeezing his fists to fight the nausea of guilt twisting his stomach. He can feel your rage fill up the room like a solid thing, a cold pressure pressing on his skin as the candle on the nightstand flickers.

“Humans are not made to command Leviathan and his children” you growl, stepping further into the room. Standing closer to the light, Seokjin realizes your eyes are watery. He sucks in a sharp breath. He’s never seen you cry. “You are weak and petty, your lives but a speck of sand in fathomless oceans. You are selfish and greedy and cruel.”

“Are demons not the same? Do you not fight amongst yourselves for power? Do you not cause chaos among the seas? Do you not hunger for power, lust, and riches?”

“Those things belong to us.”

Seokjin stands abruptly. “Now they belong to me!”

“Seokjin.”

“Now I will command the seas. I will have the power to rein in the monster of the depths when he wants to destroy innocent ships. When he wants to send storms against islands. When he wants to swallow the souls on the sea. He will bow to me, now.”

“This is madness.”

“This is fair.” He feels his heart rate speed up. Feels rage pumping through his system. Feels like the little boy clinging to a piece of driftwood as the sea destroys the ship he and his family were sailing on, feels the burn of saltwater in his lungs as the ocean drags him down, feels-

“You’d risk the world for a sense of vengeance for your lost childhood?” your voice is barely audible, a sea breeze. “The infamous Captain Seokjin of the Blue Moon, Scourge of the Seas, so afraid of losing control of the tide that he’d dare assert his dominance over it.”

“Captain Seokjin, King of Tides has a better ring to it.”

You glance at his pocket where you know the ring sits heavy. He can feel the power ebbing from the cool metal as thought it senses you in the room. Like calling to like. A tool to control Leviathan and all of his demonic children of the sea sensing one of those very creatures in front of him.

“The sea will bow to no one.”

A blade glints in your hand. Seokjin finally realizes why you refuse to jest. Why there are tears in your eyes. You’re not here to negotiate or to let him loose. He truly has fallen out of your favor, and you’re here to take what he used you to steal.

He slowly bends down, watching you all the while. You let him remove the knife from his boot, kind enough to offer him a fair fight. “The sea loved you, you know?”

He knows you’re not just talking about the oceans he sails. His throat constricts as he nods. “I love her.”

You appraise him once more, uncanny eyes flickering. If his admission that there is still warmth flickering for you has an effect, it doesn’t show.

“Your love means nothing. You betrayed her and now you will meet your death, King of Tides.”

He grips his knife firmly. The ring is heavy in his pocket. “I welcome the attempt.”

#seokjin fic #jin fic #kim seokjin fic #jin x you #seokjin x you #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin fanfic #jin angst #bts fic #bts x you #bts fanfic #100 drabble challenge #pirate jin

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motorcycleboy9 · 2 months

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My take on The Outsiders Modern AU (I'll maybe draw something on that later)

Ponyboy Curtis

transmasculine agender, bisexual, he>they(she)

- ponyboy isn't his real name, but a nickname he picked in 2020, when first realized he's transmasc. kinda regrets it but everyone already got used to it.

- is short and insecure about it

- likes dressing nicely, but doesn't really have money for any good clothes. steals some old pieces from soda's closet.

- bisexual. though had a pre-trans phase when he thought that he only liked girls.

- listens to the smiths & arctic monkeys

- hadn't start on smoking yet, but thinks that with amount of stress in his life will start eventually. probably will do the vape ones, especially if they're chocolate flavored.

- mrs. curtis is alive in this setting, but mr. curtis died in car crash. so yeah, she's a single mom, though darry's trying to help her out.

- he and johnny share the same interest - manga. that's probably how they became friends. (they went to the same middle school)

Johnny Cade

gay guy, he/they

- grows his hair out, though doesn't really know how to manage it (it has wavy texture)

- has conservative parents who are aware he's gay. neglected him ever since, and even said stuff sort of a "you are not our son anymore", which made johnny hate his own household.

- in a world where not all of the se hinton's characters are white I would like to think that johnny's mom is filipino. (he's probably half or 1/4th)

- doesn't smoke cause the smell makes him start coughing badly. and also because his parents smoke a lot, and he doesn't want to be like them.

- broke his leg and back once. not because of saving kids in a burning church this time though. probably a much more stupid reason.

- actually liked being in the hospital cause then he didn't have to see his family & couldn't go to school.

- have been bullied in middle school. pony was the person who tried to help him out, but couldn't have done much.

Dallas Winston

cis guy, bisexual (in denial), he/him

- has christian parents and got a religious trauma.

- got pretty conservative views because of the church, but is trying to work it through.

- told johnny that only girls and gays wear long hair. the thing is johnny's actually gay. and Dallas is indeed wrong.

- had a breakdown when realized that he likes guys.

- started smoking to piss off his parents, but actually got into a habit. hates vaping, thinks that they're not 'real stuff'

- used to be a bully in middle school and earlier (he and johnny went to different middle schools, though. so no, he didn't bully Johnny)

- sometimes when he runs away from his parents at night, he goes to Johnny's place. and then they both go and hang out somewhere.

- brags about living in New York for a few years. everyone thinks it's tuff. but no one knows what he was actually doing there. (me neither)

thanks to everyone who read this to the end! I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes. also, I would really appreciate it if you would help me think of any headcanons for Shepards, Cherry, Steve or Two-bit. and stay tuned for the next part.

#the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders modern AU #dallas winston #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #se hinton #dally winston #i was so fucking scared to post this #nicktalks

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fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic · 4 months

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Good Omens Fic Rec: on the same page

Aziraphale Z. Fell is a rising star of the spiritual literary genre - the next Eat Pray Love guy - and his version of Chicken Soup For the Christian Soul is flying off the shelves. It's not that he's not grateful, but it's one thing to enjoy a career in writing and another completely to be pigeonholed into a specific genre, so much so that you are almost forbidden from writing anything else. So yes, maybe he has a bit of a secret. An outlet for his less... appropriate urges. And yes, if his typical readership got word of the sort of paragraphs he could put out on a particularly inspired night, they might suffer some form of heart attack typical for their age. But all of that is well hidden, and there is absolutely no way anyone would ever find out about his Arrangement with A.J. Crowley - the most debaucherous romantic fiction author of the decade. That is... until they have to pretend to be married to each other.

Length: 117,728 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, Human AU, Romance, Slow Burn, Comedy

Triggers: Homophobia

Read it here, fic by Chekhov

*Minor Spoilers* While formatting this review I'm actually shocked at how long the word count is. I flew through it so quickly I guess I didn't realize it was over 100k words! This was a super engaging fake relationship story. Aziraphale and Crowley are writers with their own Arrangement. They collaborate in secret by writing for each other. Aziraphale gets to write very naughty porn scenes published under Crowley's name, and Crowley gets to write more philosophical pieces published under Aziraphale's name. This is one of my favorite uses of the Arrangement in a human au. They actually are doing each others work, and could actually get in trouble for it if found out. It's more than just a flimsy excuse to tie into the canon. Their discussions on writing, both novels and their own fanfictions, were some of my favorite parts.

Naturally, that balance is thrown off course when Aziraphale needs fake husband. You will hit all the familiar beats of a fake relationship tale, but it is never stale. I don't know that the reason for the fake relationship makes a whole lot of sense, but who cares, it's all in service of being fun and horny. I love their banter in this. This author really gets their voices right, and they are both very intelligent, witty, but also still kind of silly. There is a scene with Crowley messing with a religious woman that had me dying. Of course they are dumb and could clear everything up with an honest talk, but where's the fun in that? Plus the author isn't lazy about Aziraphale's excuse for keeping Crowley out. He has actual reasons, ones that could have been cleared up, but at least it doesn't rely on "Oh I didn't think you'd want me," it's, "We both know we want each other but I can't be a good partner to you right now." He carries a lot of trauma around his sexuality and being out. Luckily Crowley is very forgiving, and Aziraphale is willing to change.

Mostly safe in public, there are a handful of sex scenes but you'll have enough notice if you need to put it away for a bit. This is just a super fun time. You will fly through it, and still want more!

Read it here, fic by Chekhov

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aita-blorbos · 19 days

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(Long story, au so far removed from canon it might as well be ocs at this point)

AITA for cheating on my wife?

(TW child abuse, religious trauma/abuse, homophobia, death of a child, cancer)

I (34M) have been married to my wife, L (35F) for 15 years. We got married shortly after I turned 18, because that is the norm in the church we both grew up in. L has been my best friend since I was very young, we have always been part of a group within our church of people around our ages (currently 30-36, three other men and two other women). Our church is extremely conservative and restrictive, best described as a fundamentalist evangelical Christian church, and extremely tight-knit and small. I was born into it, as were most members of the church, and because of how close everyone is, there's very much an attitude of "us vs the outside world."

The home I grew up in was worse than miserable. My mother joined the church as a teenager, which is not very common, and married my father barely a few years later, as soon as she turned 18. My father is nine years older than her, and a piece of shit. Neither of them are good parents, but my father was extremely abusive to her and to his children for as long as I can remember. My mother was also abusive to myself and my little sister, but never to the physical extent that my father was, she tended much more towards emotional abuse. This is relevant because one of the reasons L became my best friend, and one of the reasons our whole group means so much to me, is that they listened to me when I said the way my parents treated us was far beyond the norm, even for other families that believed in the idea of "spare the rod, spoil the child." Every child in our church was spanked or sent to bed hungry, but not every child was held home "sick" from school for a week to hide the evidence of how bad things got when their father had a bad day at work. Whenever I tried to tell anybody who had actual power about the way my sister and I were being treated, I was brushed off as a kid who didn't understand consequences. L never did that, and neither did anybody else in our group.

My sister was born when I was eight. Her name was Kayla. When I was fifteen and she was seven, she was diagnosed with leukemia. When I was sixteen and she was eight, she passed away. L and our other friends were my rocks during that time, as my home life only got worse as my parents fed off the sympathy of others and took out their financial stress from the medical bills on me. This was when L and I first discussed the possibility of marriage once we were both eighteen and sort of started seeing each other. I say sort of because it wasn't like we dated, exactly, as boys and girls were pretty heavily discouraged from spending one-on-one time together, and things didn't really change that much between us, or in the dynamic of our group, which at that time was much smaller because a four year age gap is much larger at 12 and 16 than it is now, when the youngest of our friend group is 30 and the oldest is 36. We just knew that we were planning on getting married, and a few months before my eighteenth birthday, we talked to her parents, my parents, and the pastor of our church, and everybody agreed that we would get married once I graduated high school, a few months after I turned 18. Then I would go to college, law school, everything I had always planned to do to start a career to support my eventual family, and once I had settled into a career, she would be the housewife she had always expected to be.

Before I get to the next part of the story, let me make something extremely clear. I love L. I have loved her since we were children, and I will love her until the day I die, no matter what happens. It's a fact about me that I will never escape because she was there for me and made sure I knew that I was loved in the worst times and moments of my life, and that means everything to me.

However, that love has never been romantic.

I realized that I was gay when I was 12 years old. It was an extremely traumatic realization for me; I was physically sick to my stomach for days and experienced some of the only true panic attacks I've ever had in the days after that. I didn't tell anybody because, as you might imagine, the attitude towards gay people in our church is not exactly friendly. Quite the opposite, in fact. I knew that if I told anybody, even my best friends or the pastor of our church, that I would be an outcast and treated like garbage. I hated myself, and I was convinced that if I was a good enough Christian, God would take the burden of homosexuality away from me and make me straight like I knew I should be. I prayed for so long that my knees bled from kneeling, and I threw myself into the church like never before. I led youth groups and bible studies, volunteered to teach Sunday school, I went to both Sunday services and the mid-week service every week, I was in my pastor's office asking questions and discussing theology constantly, and still, I never had any interest in any girls and couldn't stop the random thoughts about boys from popping into my head. Puberty only made things worse.

By the time my sister died, I had convinced myself that if I found the right woman, I would eventually love her the way I was supposed to. Something in me shattered when Kayla died, and as L supported me through it, I decided that she would be the woman I loved and married.

It didn't work like that. Obviously. A few years ago, after more than a decade of marriage and still the constant prayers and begging God to "fix" me, my faith slowly died. Looking back, I almost can't believe how long it took for me to realize that if God couldn't protect me from my parents, and couldn't heal my sister, and couldn't "fix" my sexuality, then why was I spending so much of my time and effort worshipping him? Once the resentment took hold, I slowly stopped believing in everything I had been taught since I was a kid. I had always been very good at compartmentalizing, keeping the church and my faith and beliefs completely separate from the "worldly" knowledge I needed as a lawyer and to get through school. Even when I was in college and law school, there was this constant caveat of "I need to know this (ie evolution) to get a passing grade, but I know the Truth as it's found in God's word." As I very slowly started questioning things, that dichotomy started to break down in my head. If I believed in DNA, which had been proven by science, why shouldn't I believe in evolution, which was also supported by science? If I can trust archeological and geological dating on things like ancient structures in the Middle East and artifacts that support bible stories, why can't I trust those same geologists who say the Earth is billions of years old? The logic started eating away at the things I believed, and what started as resentment towards God turned into apathy, turned into agnosticism, turned into atheism. At this point in time, I would consider myself an atheist.

I didn't know how to talk about any of this with anybody. I didn't have any friends who weren't also in the church, not even at work, where I rarely talked to anybody about anything not directly work-related. I knew if I tried to talk to L about it, especially the part where one of the things it stemmed from was my being gay and lying to her about my feelings and attraction to her for years, at best, she would try to convince me to talk to the pastor about it and at worst, she would tell everyone, and I would lose every important person in my life. So I didn't. I kept acting like everything was the same, going to church and work and bible study, leading worship music on Sunday mornings. It was eating me alive, but I didn't know what else to do.

I'm not usually an impulsive person. I love planning and knowing exactly what is about to happen. It's not like me at all to do something on impulse. But one night, after work, and after months of trying to figure out what to do about my whole life being a miserable lie, I texted my wife that I had to stay late to finish some work for a case and not to wait up for me, and I went to a gay bar. It was my first time in any bar, actually, and very much my first time acting on anything when it came to my sexuality.

There was a guy there. I mean, there were many men there, but there was one I couldn't look away from. It wasn't just that he was physically attractive, though he was beautiful, it was how free he was. He was dancing and wearing makeup and had his fingernails painted, and it made my chest hurt to look at him and wonder who I would have been if I could have been so free. And he clearly liked the look of me, too, because he came up to me when I'd been inside for a few minutes and asked me to dance, and one thing led to another and I went home with him. It was the first time I had sex with somebody other than my wife, obviously, and it was also the first time I ever felt like I understood what sex was supposed to be about, because I was actually attracted to the person I was having sex with. Was it perfect? No. I had no idea what I was doing because I've never done it before, but it was fun. I smiled without faking it for the first time in a long time, and he even made me laugh.

He gave me his number before I left. I started texting him at work the next day, and never stopped. It's been around five months, and I'm a little bit scared to admit that I think I might be falling in love with him.

As far as I know, he doesn't know that I'm married. My wife obviously doesn't know, and I don't know how I would even begin to tell her. I know I have to tell him that I'm married and that I've already waited too long. He deserves better than I've given him. But I'm scared that if I tell my wife, she'll tell everyone at church, and I'll lose every semblance of a support system that I've ever had.

So, AITA for cheating on my wife with a man and having no idea how to move forward?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #religious abuse #cults #child abuse #abuse #partner abuse #child death

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essayofthoughts · 1 year

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Which of your stories is the one you’re proudest of? Do you have one that you’re not too proud of and plan on rewriting someday? Why, if you don’t mind?

I don't think there's any one story I'm exceedingly proud of beyond all others - but there are several I'm very proud of for different reasons. Ghost Cass as a whole is one of my longest endeavours and I'm looking forward to where it all goes; Ripley's Assistant and the spinoff of the Delia AU allow me to explore trauma and manipulation in a way I don't often see done and which I find cathartic; likewise That balance may return allows me to tackle other aspects of related traumas; To Cancel half a Line was a delightfully indulgent foray into deeply gothic narratives and imagery and let me go quite a bit more purple in the descriptions than I'd usually dare. Puzzle Pieces, Another's Hand and a patient etherized are all kind of small character study pieces that let me dig into some messy aspects of the development of trauma and a manipulated mindset and how one can grow out of it and come to terms with it.

In short, I've got a lot of fics I'm some flavour of proud of and asking me to pick just one is kind of tricky? A lot of my fics are written with a purpose in mind and as long as they to some degree or other achieve that purpose, I'm proud of them.

Which then leads to your second question, because there is a fic I would like to rewrite one day if I ever have the spoons and motivation, but to say that I'm not proud of The Dead Do Not Bury Themselves would be entirely inaccurate? It's one of my first ever proper longfics and while my commas and apostrophes are all over the place and I used more Christian imagery than perhaps I'd keep if I rewrote it, given the Maximoff twins are Jewish in comics canon and I like to lean into that, it still... was my first proper longfic, one with themes and arcs and growth and I remain proud of it for bringing me and my writing forwards.

I don't generally post my fics if there isn't something about them that pleases me and while my opinion on them might change, they're all steps on a path: to dislike one step because perhaps it's slippy or cracked or awkwardly formed does not erase the fact that it was a part of the path and process of your growth.

Maybe that opinion isn't for everyone - but it's the one I hold. I wrote these things for reasons. Sometimes those reasons might be flawed, but I'm human, I'm flawed. It doesn't mean it doesn't have value, to me or others.

#fic things #writing things #fandom things #fanfic things #ask #anonymous

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queeranesearch · 2 years

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i don't watch or read nge but it looks interesting and if you want can you tell me about it?? :D

HUGS YOU ANON. MWAH MWAH OKAY OKAY SO I've only watched the anime (finished it like two days ago sdfjkd), so I'm only gonna discuss it as the manga from what I know is quite different, having scenes that are not in the anime or are changed significantly. There are also movies which I've yet to watch but I know they ALSO differ greatly since they literally just. Retell the story but with different endings. They're literally AUs that are also canon its weird so: lets just talk about the anime.

[below the cut is a summary, and some trigger warnings for the show]

So the basic summary: NGE is set in 2015, fifteen years after a cataclysmic event called The Second Impact, in the city of Tokyo-3. Creatures called Angels continuously attack, threatening the extinction of humanity; it's unknown what the angels are or why they attack, but in response, an organization called NERV was formed to defend humanity. NERV created giant robot-like weapons called Evas, which are the only things powerful enough to fight and eliminate angels. However, Evas need to be piloted from the inside by a human. The main character, Ikari Shinji, is recruited by his absent father Gendo, the director at NERV, to pilot one of the Evas and aid in the battle against the Angels. Shinji is scared at first, but ends up agreeing and becoming an official pilot, but is left with many questions such why was he chosen specifically to pilot, what are the nature of the Angels, etc, but it seems the more he pilots the less sure he is about everything that's going on.

That's pretty vague, but it's all I can tell you without spoiling a bunch of things because being just as clueless as Shinji as to what's happening, and gradually piecing things together as you progress is a big part of the experience!

There are many references to Judaism and Christianity, and psychological questions about what humans are, the idea of having a purpose in life, what makes up our identities, and the long lasting effects of how our parents treat us. (so there's a LOT of Freudian influence.)

It can be confusing to watch at times, but overall I found it very compelling and I became attached to a lot of the characters quite quickly!

Though I should warn that within the series there are:

Sexual themes, particularly relating to characters who are minors. 1, because the main characters are teenagers, and 2 because of the Freudian influence. There are explorations of the Oedipus Complex, the Electra Complex, and Freud's psycho-sexual stages. (If you don't know what any of them are you might wanna have a brief look into them before watching. In general Freud makes a lot of people uncomfortable for many obvious reasons but if you feel really upset and disturbed by his theories, you probably won't like nge).

Moments where minors are sexualized, especially the girls. This is partially because of the Freud stuff, but also because this anime was released in the 90s, and sexualizing women and girls was unfortunately very common.

Emotionally heavy scenes. Like I mentioned before human psychology is explored a lot, and so there are characters suffering from depression, neglect, their concept of self. and there are moments where various characters have emotional breakdowns on screen. They are especially upsetting to watch if you like the characters, so I'd recommend watching nge when you yourself are feeling alright emotionally.

Gore and Violence. There are lots of fight scenes, so there’s lots of blood and moments where you are shown characters undergoing severe physical trauma, which may be upsetting.

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head, soo yeah! Evangelion has A Lot going on but. I like it lmao

#asks #anon #neon genesis evangelion

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dontcallmecarrie · 3 years

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can we get a little taste of what would happen if someone tried to get justin assassinated and very nearly (as in he needed hospital close) succeed? like justin's reaction at how close that was 👀 family/friends reaction 👀 what would happen to the person who hired someone to hire someone to get rid off justin so they wouldn't be traced back to the incident except the people in justin's sphere of influence are all smarter than that ok? even if somehow this attempt went over everyone's head in such a way that no one noticed until it the deed was done. imagine if it was justin's DAD. OH. THE DRAMA. OH THE TRAUMA maybe. 👀

...I get the feeling that you really want to see these characters in a very different genre than what No Hero is turning out to be.

Mainly because the above situation is something I'm not sure I have the energy to tackle, and I applaud your imagination because I wouldn't have even thought of it in the first place.

See, early on is when Justin's probably most at risk in this AU; while his charisma never wanes, his network is something that grows as time goes on. Early on, before he's made his alliances and started really building his network is when Justin's at his most vulnerable— but even then I don't really picture him as getting in nearly as many sticky situations as Tony would've?

Bear in mind that Justin's reputation as a responsible, hardworking dependable guy started very, very early in this AU. Since his boarding school days, even, and some of those kids [...other than Victor, because of obvious reasons] probably later on went to invest in his company as shareholders, etc.

But.

Beyond that, remember that at the end of the day, Justin Hammer is the only son and heir of one of the biggest names in the defense industry.

...suffice it is to say that it takes a very special sort of stupid to want to piss off the guy selling you your guns.

Especially when his main competition has ridiculously high standards for anyone who's not the U.S. military.

So all in all, it's in nobody's best interests to hurt Justin; not when they've got a good thing going on, with a very reasonable businessman who knows how to play the game, and when to look the other way.

This is all a long way for me to say that even before Victor von Doom showed up again, Justin already had people willing to do him favors. Tit for tat, and all that. Victor's different in that any favor would be of a different sort of stake, with a different price; after all, he's no longer in need of weapons. Not anymore, at least.

So if someone was foolish enough to put a hit out on him... I'd think that there would be enough groups who prefer the status quo the way it is to give him a heads up, and look into taking out the threat themselves. Oh, and of course, expect a few very nice discounts afterwards. That's how I'd see something like this going.

Before Cabal was a thing, anyway; after that... woe betide whoever wanted to mess with him, because Justin has friends in very, very high places and I'll just leave it at that.

As for if Justin's father would try to pull something like this...

Hmm. You know, I honestly don't know anymore. Hammer Senior's the type of guy who's very big on appearances, and while he might not have liked being essentially ousted as the CEO of Hammer Industries, part of him was honestly pretty impressed at how his son handled the who fiasco— to the point that he wasn't even mad when he left.

Bear in mind that Justin's father is a piece of work: he's incredibly sexist, of the "dear god why hasn't he been fired ye— oh he's the owner, oh, okay, fuck this I quit then" variety, cheated on his wife for what was probably the entirety of their marriage and is just generally the embodiment of that one stereotype about trust fund brats because he's old money but that doesn't mean he knows what he's doing.

Part of why Justin caught everyone's attention at first was because he was, well, basically the exact opposite of his father: responsible, level-headed, hardworking, and competent. To be honest, there were probably some people who side-eyed him and his father and went "who the fuck knows where he gets it from, because it sure as hell ain't his old man" because of it— because other than genetics, there wasn't much else the two had in common.

It's why Justin had such an easy time becoming a CEO despite doing everything he did to get there— all he had to do was prove he was a better candidate than his father, and since his father set the bar so low, well... you get the idea.

As for Hammer Senior, in all this: let's be honest, the man stood to benefit either way. Because part of the deal for his publicly "gracefully stepping down" meant he got a very nice paycheck, and an early retirement to do whatever the hell he wanted. And, since Justin had masterfully orchestrated everything to make their family come out of it smelling like roses, it wasn't like he had any hard feelings about how he got there.

After all, that's how he raised his son.

...now, if anyone actually met Justin's father, that'd be another mess entirely. Their family in general, for that matter, but emphasis on their father because again, the man is a piece of work who cared more about appearances than anything else, and the older Justin got, the less and less they respected him.

It doesn't help that both of their parents are homophobic, and Justin's sexuality [...not to mention the gender thing, which is a whole other kettle of fish] is something these two are still unhappy about but forced to live with— though at this point, Justin's father has convinced himself that his son is just being a good, celibate Christian [Justin: ...that's hilarious on a number of levels], while his mother has just taken to pretending it's not an issue in the first place.

At this point, it's just something they have to live with, because Justin is the only child they're willing to acknowledge that acknowledges them back. So it's not like they've got many options with how to pressure him, not that they're able to at this point.

Not when he's an adult and an ironclad reputation that, in turn, makes them look good as well, because obviously they did a good job at raising him, didn't they, if he turned out so well?

So this is the stalemate they're at right now: a tension no healthy family would have but is the only thing they know, and the bitter knowledge that there's nothing they can do about it, not when Justin holds all the cards these days.

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#I got an ask!#Naught replies #replies

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love-fireflysong · 3 years

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Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this one took so long holy shit. I have no excuses, other than the fact that I'm a terrible person who can't be trusted with deadlines it seems. But it is done! Yay! So, as successfully chosen by Miss '@clumsybookworm18' Mel, here's my entry for hurt/comfort (finally). This is actually the beginning part of a sole survivor chris/ash au I've been imagining for over a year now, and will very likely be the only part of that au I will ever share. That au is for me. And me alone, sorry lol.

Can't Undo the Scars can be read over on AO3 of course (and I would recommend it if only for the snazzy looking texting lol) but it is also under the link as usual.

Can't Undo the Scars

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 9749 Rating: Teen (mentions of past trauma, unhealthy coping mechanisms, separation anxiety, nightmares that involve death) Author's Notes: Will I ever be happy with this fic? No but I'm as content with what I got as I ever will be. What Chris and Ash are doing to try and get back to 'normal' is so stupidly not healthy for either of them, but they are young kids that just want to try and move on with their lives. So be nice to them (and me obviously lol).

"I think we should take a break."

Sitting across from Ashley at the table in the quiet cafe where they had gotten coffee together, Chris fumbled with the sugar cube he had grabbed. It bounced off the small table and tumbled to the floor, not that he was paying any attention to it anymore. Not when it felt like all his blood had frozen in his veins. Still, hoping and praying that he was misunderstanding what Ashley was trying to get at, he let out a forced little laugh. "...like a KitKat? Oh man, when was the last time I had one of those? Must have been ages ago, you're totally right we should go and grab a bar or two after this. A little snack and treat we both totally deserve and I'll break us off a piece of that—"

Chris let everything else he was about to say trail off when Ashley pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head fiercely as she refused to look at him. The loose sleeves of the sweater she was wearing were pulled far down enough that only the tips of her fingers were poking out, and those tightened around the mug of coffee she was holding onto. "No, I-I mean, I think we need to take a break from each other. At least for a little bit."

Forget his blood freezing, Chris felt everything around him freeze. His breath froze in his lungs, his heart froze in his chest, and time seemed to freeze around him. "Ash, are-are you," Chris swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself together, "are you breaking up with me?"

Immediately Ashley's eyes snapped up to meet his, and they were wide with the same fear that Chris was pretty sure had replaced all the blood in his body. "No! No, that's-that's not what I'm doing! That's not what I want at all!" Her hands left the mug she had been gripping on the table and reached out to take Chris's, but hesitated and pulled back at the last second. "Why? Do you want to...?"

Chris closed the distance between their hands and grabbed hers in his, but was careful not to touch her wrists. He was more relieved than he had imagined it was possible to feel (and he had felt some pretty intense feelings of relief in the last half a year) when she responded by immediately turning her hands over so she could curl her fingers into his. "I don't! I can't think of a single thing in the world I want to do less than that."

The jerky nod that Ashley gave in agreement should have left him feeling better, but it didn't. "Good. So we're not br— not gonna do that then."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Glad we're in agreement. But then, what did you mean by that, Ash? That we should..." Chris couldn't even bring himself to say the words, instead letting them die in his throat when Ashley slowly withdrew her hands from his and placed them back around her quickly cooling mug.

"It's just, this isn't healthy Chris. This can't be healthy for either of us."

"Healthy? What isn't healthy? This much coffee? The amount of sugar I put in my cup every morning? Is the amount of sugar I use turning you off Ash? Cause I don't think I can fix that sorry."

She didn't smile at that, not even a hint. No faint tugging at the corners of her mouth, no sigh of exasperation, nothing. And it was then that he knew that whatever this was all about, she was as serious as he'd ever seen her, and that terrified him.

"This, Chris. None of this. The fact that neither of us can sleep alone. That I'm terrified that the moment you leave my sight I'll never see you again. I hate that it feels like neither of us can go out in public unless we're both there."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I-I can see how that might be a problem. But Ash, it wasn't—it's not as if it's our fault. We're just trying to heal, I mean that's what all the doctors keep telling us at least. And if this is what it takes, then what's so wrong about that?"

Ashley looked up at him again, and while he wasn't shocked at the dark circles around her eyes (they were identical to the ones around his after all), the tears that had started to build up in the corners of them had him reaching over the table so he could take her face into his hands. Her hands cover his a second later, but not pull them away like he feared, instead she curls her fingers into the palms of his hands so she can hold him there. The two of them lean over the table to meet in the middle, likely looking like a romantic embrace shared by lovers in the corner to anyone looking on, but this is anything but. "But it's been months Chris," she starts and he wipes away the first tear that threatens to fall before it ever gets the chance to, "since, since..."

Since Blackwood, he finishes for her in his head, it's been months since Blackwood and it still feels like we're no better than when we first came down. And it has been, Blackwood had been nearly six months ago now and the two of them still jumped and grabbed for each other at what seemed like every little thing. A loud bang, even from something as small and normal as a car backfiring down the street, always sent Chris back into that room in the basement, watching as Mike aimed that gun at Emily. The sound of a glass cup shattering as it hit the floor would have Ashley locking up in fear, her grip on Chris's hand tightening to a point far beyond pain.

That first week of July had been terrible for them both. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far out of town as possible, but that would have left them basically stranded in the wilderness; surrounded by trees on all sides as they jumped at every little sound and animal call, wondering if it was yet another one of those creatures from the mountain trying to finish them off. Instead they had elected to stay home, cowering together in Chris's basement as the fireworks going off with loud pops and bangs from nearly every house in the area had managed to cut through their earplugs and send them both into a tailspin. Remembering every bullet that Chris had shot into the Wendigo that had chased him from the shed, none doing any damage at all except to push it back further and further from him. Remembering the sound as the lodge exploded into a ball of fire, leaving them to sit cold and alone in the snow as their ears continued to ring and ring. The coolness of the basement had done little against the summer heat either, reminding them too much of the heat from the burning lodge that had threatened to cook them both from the inside out.

July had almost been worse than February, and nothing would ever top those two days in February.

He's not worried about the scene the two of them are making in the cafe though. The table they had chosen—had been using since they discovered this beautifully quiet and peaceful cafe back when they had both finally worked up the nerve to leave their houses back in May—was in a secluded corner with no windows. It was a defensible position (or at least as defensible as a table in a public cafe could be) and as long as they stayed quiet then no one would pay any attention to them. Not when the other patrons were too busy chatting with their friends or typing away on a computer. And the employees? They had more to worry about then two nerdy regulars who for all appearances looked like they were having a romantic and private conversation.

"Can you at least just tell me why?" Chris whispers, his words choked as he continues to wipe away her tears. "Why now? What happened to make you think that we need a—" his m0uth moves but nothing comes out until he finally manages to force the word past the blockade in his throat "—a break."

Ashley leans into one of his palms and smiles at him sadly. "I know we both decided that we were gonna try and start school again in the winter semester, and that our admissions had already been accepted, so I was looking at dorm availabilities when you had fallen asleep last week. They only have a few single dorms and those are available only for married students. Which is fine, it's way too small to room two people at once for durations longer than a weekend. But it also turns out that there is no option for co-ed dorms, the school doesn't allow them. No exceptions."

"What? But, surely they must—"

She shakes her head. "No exceptions, they were very clear on that. I don't know how many times me or my mom or any of the doctors emailed them to try and explain the circumstances, but the response back was always the same. They 'feel sorry and understand how difficult this must be for us' but no exceptions means no exceptions. We either agree to separate dorms with roommates of the same gender or we have to find another set of lodgings."

"But that's...that's bullshit! So the thought of a boy and girl sharing a room apparently goes so far against their-their—what, good Christian values?—that giving our poor roommates nightmares while we scream ourselves to sleep is an acceptable alternative?!"

Ashley turns her head so she can leave a chaste kiss in the center of Chris's palm in an effort to calm him down, and decides to just stay and murmur her next words there. "I hate it too, but what other alternative is there? You know we can't get a place together, there's no possible way we could afford the rent for one."

"We can...we can..." Chris tries to find something, anything, he can say to make this not happen. "I can find a job, work and go to school or—"

"And we arrive back to the same problem, Chris. If we can't survive a separation at school, how are we supposed to do it when we're both out working as well, just so we can stay together. I don't want to do this anymore then you do Chris; I really really don't. You have no idea how much I don't want to do this, but we have to get used to not being able to see each other all the time. And I would rather do it on our terms then because the school or our roommates decided we can't."

Ashley's right, of course Ashley's right. It's Ashley Brown after all, she's always right, but he doesn't want her to be. Not about this. "Okay," he agrees instead, even as it feels like saying the word is stealing something away that he can't quite name. He hides this by lowering her head so he can place his lips on her forehead and say the words there instead. "Okay. Just-just tell me how long."

"A week." Chris feels something in his stomach turn into stone and sink to the bottom of his gut. He had been hoping for something like a day or two, not a full week. He isn't sure he can survive seven days without seeing her. "I-I thought long and hard about it, but a week. We're gonna have periods anyways where we won't be able to see each other because of exams or projects, so if we can manage a whole week then we can do those no problem."

"Are you sure that maybe we shouldn't, I don’t know, just build up to that? A day here, two days there, just so we can get used to it?"

Ashley shakes her head firmly enough that it jostles Chris's hands right off of her face, but keeps her hands in his anyways. "No. I want to get this over with. Prove to everyone, to ourselves, that we can do something as simple as this. I mean, we used to go periods all the time when we didn't see each other for ages, so what's so different about this?"

"Everything", Chris wants to say, "Everything's different now. It changed the moment we left that mountain behind." But he doesn't. He doesn't because he wants her to be right, that this is just a minor hiccup and if they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything. So with one last squeeze of her hands and a pained smile, he lets go and takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces at the taste. It's cold now, had probably gone cold a long time ago and he can tell from the shared frown on Ashley's face that hers has gone cold too.

With no reason for either of them to stay here now, they had only brought enough money for a single coffee each, it's pretty clear that their little coffee date is over. Neither of them say a word as they clean up their table and leave the cafe, their fingers intertwined as they usually are nowadays, but holding on tighter than usual. They separate only so they can get into Chris's truck, but the moment they settle into their seats, their hands find each other once again. And that's how Chris drives Ashley back to her mother's, hands gripping so tightly that they're fingers have turned white and not saying a single word the entire drive back. They never mentioned it, but neither of them have to. The moment they arrive at her place, then this is it. This will be the last time they're gonna see each other for an entire week, and the moment one of them speaks then any and all willpower they have to pull this off is going to be gone and they'll be back at where they started. They need to do this, even if neither of them want to.

It isn't until Chris pulls up in front and watches her let go of his hand to take off her seatbelt that it actually hits him. For the first time in six months, he's not going to be following her in. That he's going to continue the drive back to his own house alone. The realization shudders through him and he quickly finds himself fumbling at his own seatbelt clasp, and the moment he's free he's surging across the divide between them and taking Ashley's face in his hands as he kisses her like he's never going to be able to again. She doesn't hesitate to return the embrace either, throwing her arms around him and gripping onto him as though she never wants to let him go.

They spend what is probably far too long delaying the separation, but inevitably they do separate. And when they look at each other it's with tears in their eyes and their foreheads pressed so firmly together it's almost like they're trying to become one person.

"Just seven days, right? And that's it, we'll never have to do this again? You promise?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, she just nods and leans in for one last kiss, as though trying to memorize it and him for the coming week. And when she does pull away to leave, it's with her arms slowly untwining themselves from around Chris's neck, and then letting her fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his hands. Though she is stopped when Chris curls his fingers so that they catch on his, and doesn’t fight it as she watches wordlessly as he lifts them in front of his face and carefully lets the loose sleeves of her sweater drop so he can see the faint scars on her wrist that were left when the rope burns had healed. And as always, he makes no comment as softly places a kiss into the center of each wrist, followed by the palm, and then the tip of each finger, finally closing his eyes as he presses the back of her knuckles to his lips and holding her hands there. Just to remind himself that she was still here, that she hadn't died on Blackwood Mountain with all the rest.

He drops her hands when she pulls them back, but doesn't open his eyes when he feels her shaky fingers carefully remove his glasses and place them on the dashboard before returning her hands to his face in order to complete their little ritual. Gently, she traces the contours of his face with the pads of her thumbs, brushing them over his eyes, his nose, his lips, and following each with a soft kiss to the body part in question. Finishing as she always does by placing her lips in a closed mouth kiss to the area where his jaw and neck meet, and lingering just long enough so she can feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin. The minor burn from where he had once held the gun to his jaw had faded a long time ago, but he doesn't think that either will ever forget exactly where it used to be. And when she leans back, the usual expressions of relief and awe are hidden so far underneath the absolute heartbreak that they may as well not even exist. "I—" he starts, but stops just as quickly. It's far too overdue, but the timing isn't right. "I guess I'll see you next week then."

Ashley looks like she has something she wants to say, but instead reaches out to put Chris's glasses back on his face with shaking hands and as she opens the passenger door and gets out of the vehicle, she gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I...I'll see you then."

Chris just watches as she walks up to the building, gripping onto the steering wheel as hard as possible in an effort to hold himself back from trying to follow her into the building like every fibre of his being is screaming at him to do. And after sharing one last shaky and teary eyed smile from the top of the steps, Ashley unlocks the door and enters, leaving his sight for what feels like both the first time in forever, and the final time he'll ever get to see her.

He rushes the rest of the way home, and the moment he gets back he just about runs to his bedroom and hides under the covers of his bed, ignoring both the surprised greeting his mother sends his way and the inquiry about where Ashley is. He just wants to sleep.

The week will be over quicker that way.

***

By the end of the first day Ashley is ready to scream. Not because she misses Chris horribly (she does), or because waking up without Chris at her side had sent her into near hysterics (it did). She had expected these things after all, they were all things that she had to get used to again, he wasn't always going to be there with her after all. It still hurt—good god did it hurt—but all in all, it wasn't going terribly for the first day. She'd had no nightmares thankfully, and had spent most of the day reading, with some minor tidying up in her room and helping her mother around the house.

Oh no, the reason she was about to scream was her mother in question. Who after finding out why exactly Chris hadn't come home with her yesterday, and never made an appearance later on in the evening just before bed, had been frantic. Saundra wasn't angry, she didn't scream or yell or try to do anything that might set her daughter off, but she was being horribly insistent that maybe Ashely and Chris should have thought this through more. Asking why Ashley had never brought this up to her, and if she even mentioned that they were doing this to their doctors. She hadn't of course, because Ashley was fully aware that they would have done almost everything in their power to try and talk them out of it, telling them that the two of them weren't ready for separation of his magnitude yet. And of course neither of them were ready for this—they likely never would be—but it needed to be done if her and Chris had any hope of even trying to return to a normal lifestyle in time for them to return to college in January.

And, well, she was terrified about what would happen to them if they didn't. Sure it was deemed 'healthy' for now, as they tried and struggled to recover from what everyone around them said was a horribly traumatic series of events. But what about when it wasn't simply seen as healthy and therapeutic, but harmful and co-dependant? Ashley loved Chris, even if neither of them had said the words yet she felt it in her entire being everytime she looked at him, and the idea that one day they might grow to hate or resent each other for being unable to let go was too much. And so the completely necessary trial separation came into being. If they could prove that they could successfully be apart for something as short as a week, then this wasn't codependency in the making, it was healing pure and simple.

Now she just had to convince herself of that.

***

By early morning of the second day, Chris had finally admitted to himself what he had figured out a few short hours into his self-exiled bedrest: sleeping the week away when he had been finding it hard to sleep in general for months now was quite frankly going to be impossible. And so he had with great reluctance rolled himself out of his far too empty bed and into the shower, passing his own mother talking in hushed voices on the phone. Voices that quickly stopped the moment Lilith realized that her son was finally up and moving again, and then immediately confronting him afterwards and pleading that he tell her that nothing bad had happened between him and Ash. He weakly assures that everything's fine between them (it's not, everything is not fine, it won't be fine until she's by his side again), and that he'll talk to her after. The only thing he wants right now is a hot shower. Lilith lets him go reluctantly, but Chris is also very aware that the moment he steps foot into the bathroom, that she's going to be back on the phone with Saundra speaking in hushed and worried whispers.

The rest of the morning passes by in a haze of motherly questions—mixed with the occasional fatherly one every now and again just for spice—and a large breakfast that tastes and feels like ash in his mouth, and it bleeds into the afternoon, and then into the evening. Which finds Chris both bored out of his mind and desperate for a distraction as he digs through a pile of video games to try and find something to play. But everything he finds was either given to him by Ash, or ones the two of them had played together (if not both), so he abandons his search and instead finds himself out in the garage digging through dusty and broken down boxes until he finds the old playstation and games that his parents had gotten for him before he had ever met Ashley or...or...

Well, the point was he had a game now that carried no memories of anyone or anything except being six and terrible at video games. It does nothing to wipe away the loneliness and despair that covers him like a heavy blanket, but it's a start. An extremely stalled start to a race he wants nothing to do with, but a start nonetheless.

***

On day three, Ashley is starting to think that maybe her mom had been right and that this was such a stupid idea. Last night was especially bad. No matter how many blankets she had piled on her bed, no matter how many childhood stuffed animals she had shoved back on to fill up the empty space, none of it had helped. She had never felt so cold in her life and all the open space on the bed had made her feel like she was going to be swallowed up into the emptiness. In desperation she had started ripping the drawers from her dresser and throwing clothes from her closet, frantically holding back burning tears of frustration and the scream building up in her throat.

And then she found it. One of Chris's sweaters shoved half-hazardly away into a dark corner of her room under the bed, and had been forgotten about by the both of them until now. The immediacy with which she had fumbled to grab the thing and throw it on probably would have frightened her any other day, but with the tears finally flowing hot and heavy down her cheeks as she buried her face into the dark fibres, all she could feel was bone-crushing relief settling over her. Her room a mess she could deal with in the morning, Ashley had crawled into bed hugging herself and the sweater as close as she physically was able. She wasn't cold anymore, and the bed felt less empty too.

As long as she had a reminder that Chris was still alive, that she could still smell him even on this dusty and long-forgotten piece of clothing, then even if he wasn't physically here with her she could manage. And she would manage, she would. They were already halfway through the week after all, and she would prove to everyone—to herself—that they (she) could do this.

Ashley wears the sweater all the rest of the day once she wakes up.

***

In true Chris Hartley fashion, day four finds himself absolutely glued to the screen of his phone. Shortly after forcing down a small breakfast in an attempt to alleviate his worried parents' concern, he had spent what was probably a far too long amount of time in his text messages just staring at Ash's name. His thumbs hovering nervously over the keyboard as he fought with himself over and over again, debating if texting Ashley would be okay. Yes, the two of them had agreed that this 'break' (he hates the word, hates it hates it hates it with every fibre of his being) was needed if they wanted to try and get themselves ready for the separation that college life would inevitably bring, but that was to try and prepare themselves for not being able to see each other for long periods of time. They wouldn't be able to see each other during classes or during periods of intense studying and working on projects, but they would still be able to talk. Hell, his entire first year of college while she was still in high school had been just that. They hadn't been able to hang out in weeks, but they had still texted all the time.

So biting the bullet, Chris had gone ahead and texted Ash a quick and easy 'hey'. No 'miss you', no 'this was a terrible idea', no ' i wish you were here right now'. Just a simple 'hey' and then he stared at his phone, face pale and hands shaking as he waited to see what she would do. He didn't care if she would just send back a scathing reply about how he was breaking the rules by doing this, he just needed her to respond and reassure him that she was alright. That she was still alive and his insecurities were getting the best of him.

The phone rumbling softly in his hand was a godsend, and so too was the affirmative 'hi :)' that she had responded with. After that, it was as though the floodgates had opened. The two of them texted each other back and forth the entire rest of the day, her telling him about the books she had been reading as he told her about his adventures through late 90's and early 2000's gaming. They told each other what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked about everything and nothing and it was so blissfully normal that Chris wondered why on earth it had taken him this long to text her in the first place. He thinks that he was so used to just having her there with him all the time, that the idea that they could still text hadn't even crossed his mind.

There are things he doesn't tell her of course. That the idea of falling asleep without knowing she's next to him and safe is so ludicrous that he had stopped trying, only sleeping in small, unintended fits that leave him feeling even worse than before. That despite at least continuing to eat, the food tastes like nothing and he can only manage a few bites before excusing himself. And what little he does eat almost always manages to come back up during the night, though thankfully when his parents are both sleeping (he doesn't want them to worry more than they already are). Chris doesn't want to worry Ashley, not when it seems like she's managing this whole seven-day long affair better than he is so far. If she can do this, then so can he.

So no matter how many times his thumb hovers over the call icon in the corner, he does not press it. Texting will have to be enough, he knows that the moment he hears her voice then every single shred of resolution he has built up will crumble in seconds and he'll be driving as fast as he can so he can see her again. And they're already four days deep into their seven days, the last thing he wants is for Ashley to decide that they need to start all this over from the top again.

***

Ashley is comfortable in her bed, more comfortable than she's ever felt in her life honestly. Chris's arm is draped heavily over her waist, and his breath is warm on the back of her neck as he peacefully naps the afternoon away. His body is solid against her back and she feels so, so safe and so, so loved as she continues to read her book, a favourite of hers that she had read cover to cover a million times but always felt like coming home in its warm familiarity. Contentedly, she flips a page and snuggles back further into Chris's body and she feels something warm and wet drip onto her neck.

"Chriiiiiiis," she groans, but not without an edge of laughter, "wake up. You're drooling on me, you dip." He doesn't move, and Ashley repositions herself a little, made difficult by the weight of his arm over her, and jabs her elbow into his gut. "I'm serious you dork, wake up. I swear to god, you sleep like the de—" The words die in her throat in horror when she turns her head to face him.

His head isn't there. Nothing is there. Just dark blood pouring hot and heavy from the open space above his neck, staining the fur lining his coat and the once clean, white snow as the blizzard rages around her. Desperate to prove that this isn't real, that it can't be real, she fumbles for the hand that hangs limp at her waist and threads her fingers through his, but his fingers are cold to the touch and black with frostbite, and no matter how hard she squeezes he isn't squeezing back. She's fully aware that she's openly crying and sobbing as she repeats his name over and over, begging him to wake up and tell her that this isn't real. Her tears are freezing on her cheeks the moment they fall.

From deep within the treeline, a high-pitched shriek that rattles the teeth in her mouth echoes long and loud around the wide, open snow-covered space.

Cries and nausea alike stick in her throat as she tries frantically to wiggle out from Chris's body, but his arm is a dead weight that keeps her pinned in place against him. "C'mon, Chris. We need to go. We need to hide. Get up, please please please get up."

There's a soft thump of a large body landing in the snow far off to the right, unseen but not unheard, and she freezes in place. Hoping and praying that the thing won't see them as she huddles in closer to the protection that Chris's body is offering, her blood stained fingers tightening painfully on his limp hand and around the leather bound journal she is still holding in her other. In fear she buries her face into the snow beneath her, the cold biting at her skin and the metallic taste of Chris's spilt blood filling her mouth and nose. For a moment, there's nothing. No sound except for the wind whistling through the trees as the snow whips wildly around them.

And then Chris is gone. The comforting and yet horrifying weight he had been is just gone as he's suddenly flung through the air and colliding into a tree with a sickening crunch. Her hand had been gripping onto his so fiercely and so tightly that she had been pulled with him for just a second before his hand had been violently ripped out of her grasp. Leaving Ashley to stare wide-eyed and terrified into the face of the thing—its body too long and spindly with far too many sharp angles to be considered human—standing above her as she lays on her back. Milky-white eyes gaze back down unseeingly at her and Chris's blood is dripping from sharp, deadly claws that splatter onto her face. The thing opens its mouth to showcase row upon row of crooked and yellowed razor-sharp teeth and it screams at her, spittle flying into Ashley's face as her ears ring and ring and ring.

Too scared to cry, too scared to move, Ashley just wishes that Chris was still here with her and not lying broken and mangled and headless at the foot of a tree as he continues to slowly bleed out into the crisp white snow. A small little whimper, barely louder than the whisper of wind blowing through grass and certainly going unheard in this howling blizzard, escapes past her lips but it's enough. In a flash, the same deadly claws are raking towards her face to rip her head off in the same way it had to Chris.

And Ashley screams.

She screams and screams and screams, and screams only louder when a pair of hands cradle her face and a voice begs and pleads with her to wake up. Ashley tries to fight back against the hands and the voice, screaming for Chris to wake up and help her, but her own words keep getting caught on the blood that is bubbling out of her mouth. There's another scream, this one not her own, and then the hands have moved to try and open her mouth but she won't let them. She doesn't want her jaw ripped off like what had happened to poor Jess. Like what she had seen in the pictures that the rangers had shown her and Chris so they could identify the half naked body discovered in the mines. So she fights back even harder, trying to claw at the person or thing that killed Chris and Jess and everyone else. And then there's a cry of pain, and the hands on her face have vanished, appearing around her wrists so they could try and hold her panicked flailing back.

The moment the hands appear on her wrists, Ashley's eyes fly open and she can't breathe. She can't breathe because she's hanging in the shed, the wood cold against her back as saws whir menacingly both in front and above her as Josh hangs limpy next to her. The lower half of his body an impossible mess on the floor and the grey intestines that had managed to stay in his upper half hanging down towards it like grotesque party streamers. From behind the steel chain link fence that partitions the room, Chris stands looking straight at her as he holds a gun to his jaw, his face pale as he smiles shakily at her and pulls the trigger.

Somehow, the scream that finally manages to break through is louder than all the rest.

There's more begging and pleading that she can't make out against the loud mechanical whir of the saws. And then a phone chimes, only just managing to cut through all the screaming and whirring and echoes of gunshots. And then it chimes again, louder this time. And again. And again. And she realizes that she recognizes it, it's the ringtone that Chris had set on her phone for his contact ages and ages ago as a joke, and she had just kept forgetting to change it back until it just became his notification, joke or not.

Slowly, the shed fades away until all she's left seeing is her mother standing in her brightly lit bedroom, screaming at someone through her phone. But all Ashley is paying attention to is the repeated chimes going off constantly on her phone one after another, the screen never getting the chance to go dark before another text comes in, and Chris's name appearing for every single one.

Saundra seems to notice that her daughter has finally stopped screaming, and although she continues to plead with whoever it is on the phone with her, she reaches out a hesitant and unsure hand. Ashley notices none of this as blood continues to dribble slowly out of her mouth as she picks up and unlocks her phone.

***

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong and it isn't the fact that Chris is kneeling over the toilet as he retches into it for the second time tonight. Oh no, the something wrong is due to the fact that despite it being past midnight he can hear his mom trying frantically to calm someone down on the phone. It was the phone ringing that had woken him up in fact from where he had accidentally dozed off on the couch, waking up to find the old playstation controller hanging loose in his fingers and Crash idly spinning a piece of wumpa fruit on his finger in all his polygonal glory. Chris had dropped the controller the rest of the way to the floor in his rush to the bathroom though, startling poor Toby from where he had been snoozing the night away in his dog bed. He had only barely made it before he found himself throwing up what little food he had been able to eat during the day, and the coolness of the porcelain against is forehead was a balm of relief when compared to the burning in his throat and heat of his tears as they flowed slowly down his face.

He could tell the moment that Lilith had found him from the surprised cry of alarm behind him, quickly followed by a clatter as she dropped the phone to the linoleum floor in her shock as she reached out to take her son's face in her hands. Chris knew that he must have looked a dreadful sight, his face pale and drawn while his eyes looked at her with a glassy stare. The next second, she was yelling over her shoulder for his father to wake up now and turn on the car, but Chris wasn't paying any attention to that. Not when he was just starting to make out the sound of the voice through the phone, and more importantly, the screaming in the background of the call.

That was Ashley's scream. It was a sound he didn't think he would ever be allowed to forget and it hit him that she was screaming—screaming for him—and he wasn't there.

Clumsily, he ripped his face from his mother's hands and stumbled to the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He had to help her. She needed him and he had to help her. The moment he finally had his phone in his hand he pulled up her contact name...and then he froze unsure of what to do. He couldn't call her, not because of this whole stupid break thing, but because the sound of her voice sobbing on the phone will cause him to break down with her and the last thing either of them need is to scream and cry while they're both so, so far away from each other. So he does the next best thing he can do:

He texts her.

C: what does a cloud wear under his raincoat? C: thunderwear C: why are teddy bears never hungry? C: cause they're always stuffed C: why do ducks have tail feathers? C: to cover up their buttquacks C: what kind of shoes do private investigators wear? C: sneak-ers C: why do i never tell jokes about pizza? C: they're too cheesey

And on and on and on. Even as his fingers shake he continues to text her stupid little jokes. The same ones he tells to her when he's there to hold her in his arms and remind her that he's still okay and that she’s safe. There's no describing the sob of relief he makes when she finally responds.

C: prime-mates C: what event do spiders love to attend? A: Cats C: webbings

There's a moment where he doesn't know what she means by that. How on earth could cats be the pun he was looking for in the joke? And then it hits him. She needs to know that it's really him telling these jokes and that she's not just making up everything she's seeing on her phone. Ashley is asking for the stupidest jokes about cats he knows so she can confirm that it's really him on the phone. Even tired as he is—and he is so so tired—they come naturally to him as only talking with Ashley and middle school dad jokes ever did.

C: what's a cat's favourite colour? C:purr-ple C: what do you call a cat that loves to bowl? C: an alley cat C: what's a cat's favourite tv show? C: claw and order C: what does the cat say after making a joke? C: just kitten

And so on and so forth. Ashley throws out a new topic for jokes and Chris replies with them as quickly as he can. He can hear his mom and dad talking in the next room, to each other and Saundra on the phone, but the only person he cares about is the one on the other side of his. He needs to call her. He knows what Ashley needs when she has a nightmare this bad, and the jokes are helping but she needs to hear his voice to be truly convinced that he's okay. But he can't hear hers without making things so much worse than they already are and he doesn't know what to say that would calm her down and—he stares at the last joke he had just typed out unconsciously it hits him.

C: what did the two volcanoes say to each other? C: i lava you C: i'm going to call your phone but whatever you do don't answer it C: just let it go to voicemail and please don't answer it C: please

Chris doesn't wait for her response as he shoves past his father to his bedroom, ignoring the startled shout as he slams the door behind him, and slumps against it to the floor. He doesn't want his parents to hear this. It's not anything that would worry them, but it's so so private and the only person he wants to hear this is Ash. He still doesn't look at her response as he frantically taps the call button and listens to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And then, finally, he hears her voice for the first time in nearly a week.

"Hi, this is Ashley. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise!"

***

Please enter your password.

6279#

You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press one. To record—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said it five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep and after waking up every day. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

"I love you. I'm—"

"I love you."

To replay this message: press one. To go to the previous message: press one one. To pause during message playback: press two. To fast forward a message during playing: press three. To hear this message, and the time it was delivered: press five. To copy this message to another person: press six. To erase this message and go to the next: press seven. To reply: press eight. To save this message and go to the next: press nine. To—

You have no new messages.

*beep*

A: I need you A: Please A: Please A: I need you A: I need you A: I need you

Please enter your password.

***

The car ride over was almost unbearable. Chris wasn't driving himself fortunately, with how tired and anxious he had been feeling for days now it would have been an absurdly stupid idea that likely would have ended in his death if he wasn't extremely lucky. As it was, he had been ready to go and beg a ride from his parents but had found Gabe already standing by the front door with the keys in hand. His almost pure white hair messy from being pulled from bed unexpectedly and leveling Chris with a glare that brooked no argument. It wasn't an argument that Chris intended to fight against as he hugged his father hard in thanks before climbing into the back of the vehicle.

But the drive had felt so much longer than it usually did, and Ashley having stopped responding to his texts certainly hadn't helped matters any. He still sent them anyways, more for his own reassurance than hers now. Lilith sat in the passenger seat next to her husband, still talking on the phone to Saundra to give progress reports and reassurances that yes the three of them were on their way now, even as she sent the occasional nervous glances at Chris in the backseat. Though worried for him or for the car upholstery in case the movement of the vehicle set off his gag reflex was anyone's guess.

The moment Chris felt the vehicle slow down his eyes jumped to the window and saw the familiar and welcoming shape of Ashley's building and he was already fumbling with seatbelt and opening the car door before they had even fully stopped. He hears his parent's cry out in shock as he dives out the still moving (even if very slowly) vehicle and he's stumbling towards the door. Chris realizes in horror that in his hurry to leave he had managed to completely forget his keys by the front door, and in the time it takes him to realize that the door has already opened. Saundra is standing in front of him dressed up for her overnight shift at the dispatch center that she is now extremely late for, and phone held up to her ear as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Chris doesn't even bother to say thanks or remark about the deep scratches on her cheek, the pair still bleeding just a little, before he's shoving his way past her and up the stairs to where Ashley's room is. He trips on the last step and falls forward, his phone skittering across the floor, but leaves it once he gets to his feet and just about barges into her room.

He takes barely a moment to stare at Ashley huddled up on her bed, looking so small in his dark sweater, and her eyes squeezed shut as her phone is pressed as close to her ear as possible as she rocks back and forth. There's a thin streak of dried blood from her mouth all the way down her chin and her eyes fly open in shock when he takes an unsteady step towards her. For a split second he's too scared to move, he doesn't want to frighten her anymore than she already is, but then the phone drops from her fingers and she whimpers out his name like she can’t believe he’s really here and he breaks.

He's already fully crying as he collides into her on the bed, but so is she so there's no need to feel embarrassed about that. He can hear his own voice as a tinny facsimile from the phone as the voicemail continues to play out before starting off into the electronic drone of the operator, but he ignores it for the feel of Ashley's arms wrapped firmly around him, her hands clawing into the back of his shirt to try and hold him closer as they both sob bitterly into each others shoulders. Chris is the first to pull back, though it's just so he can hold her face in his hands as he presses their foreheads together, thumbs wiping away tears that won't stop falling even as he continues to cry himself, just soaking in her presence in front of him. Ashley takes no time for her hands to start roaming all over his skin when they snake underneath his shirt, just feeling the unmarked bare skin as she searches for wounds and marks that no longer exist or have never even existed in the first place.

The two of them sit there like that for an unknown amount of time, just confirming that the other is truly alive and safe. Until Ashley slowly removes her hands from under his shirt so she can drag him down and forward into a deep kiss. A kiss that is by all accounts is downright awful considering that Chris never got the chance to rinse out his mouth and all he can taste is the blood in Ashley's from where she had bit her tongue during her nightmare at some point. Neither of them care. And he still doesn't care when Ashley starts to leave what may very well be slightly bloody kisses as she trails her lips from his mouth to the corner of his lips, across his cheek, and down his jaw until she finds the spot she's looking for and stops there so she can feel his frantic pulse thrumming beneath the skin. She holds her mouth there for what many would likely consider to be an uncomfortably long amount of time, but Chris says nothing. Not when he's now too busy picking up where Ashley had let off, letting his hands skate over the area of her stomach and waist beneath her shirt and his sweater.

The moment the two of them have calmed down enough that the sobs have lessened into quiet tears, Ashley finally removes her lips from his jaw and lowers one of her hands so she can place it flat on his chest and can feel his heart thumping steadily beneath her hand. Chris lets a hand cover hers to hold it there while he carefully places the other on the back of her neck, this thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth to comfort her. And gently, so gently, he brings their foreheads back together as they let the last of their adrenaline run out.

She's safe. He's safe. They're both safe and that is all that matters right now.

"I'm sorry," Ashley is the first to speak and words catch and almost shatter on the way out. "I'm so sorry. This was such a stupid idea and—"

He doesn't disagree with her. This had been a terrible idea from the start and while she's not wrong that they need to get used to not being around all the time, this was too much too soon. For both of them it seems. "I can't do that again Ash," he says instead. "We'll figure something out. Make agreements with our dorm roommates if we have to, force the college heads to accept our emails and the doctors advice, or rent the shittiest and cheapest apartment we can find. I don't care. We'll figure it out, but I can't do that again Ash. I love you but I can't."

Ashley nods weakly against his head in agreement. She can't do it again either. The two of them had barely lasted five days after all, and this whole failed endeavour had probably sent them back months. "I love you too. I love you so so much. You can't leave me, Chris, please. You can't. Not tonight."

He has no intention to, he doesn't know what his parents intended bringing him here, or if they thought he'd be going back home with them after this, but he's not going anywhere. They'll have to drag him kicking and screaming from the bed if they try, and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, the lack of sleep he'd been having the last five days is hitting him and he is just so, so very tired. So tired, that all he gives in reply is just a reassuring forehead kiss in promise that he won't be going anywhere, not for a long time if he can help it, and then starts to bring Ashley down so she can lay on the bed with him. She follows without a fight.

It only takes them a moment to settle, Ashley laying so her front is flush to his back as is physically possible with her arm draped over his waist and fingers threaded tightly through his. Chris takes her other hand so he can softly kiss her inner wrist and then holds the knuckles lightly to his lips. The two of them slowly drifting off as Ashley continues to softly whisper declarations of love into the back of his neck.

Chris's eyes are closed, just enjoying her whispers that are meant just for him to hear, and even then he can tell that someone is standing in the door and watching them. But even if he opened his eyes to see who it was, with his glasses now resting in their spot on Ashley’s bedside table, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. And he’s just far too exhausted to even try right now. It’s only her mom anyway, or one of his parents—quite possibly all three of them—and he knows that come morning and after hours and hours of sleep, that there are going to be some conversations and intense worried scolding that need to be had. But with Ashley's fingers squeezing around his, and him squeezing back just as firmly, he doesn't care.

For the first time in a little over five days, the two of them fall asleep peacefully. Secure and content in the knowledge that they’re not gonna have to do this again, not for a very, very long time.

#my writing #pride month prompt challenge #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #is a sad heartbreaking story #lik dis if you cry #asdsakjdasd

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lonestarpost · 3 years

Text

April 26, 2021~ Masterlist ~ Issue 12

Episode Review

by @lonestarbabe

9-1-1: Lone Star’s ninth episode of season two breaks the hiatus with one of the season’s strongest episodes; in this episode, the showrunners prioritize quality storytelling (many thanks to writer Tonya Kong), and while the episode focuses heavily on past events, it creates an atmosphere that allows extensive character development moving forward. The episode shows viewers Grace and Judd’s story, and it does so in a way that highlights their bright future and how they have built a healthy, happy future together by first creating a solid foundation for themselves. “Saving Grace” stands out because of its attention to detail and the complex dynamics it beautifully fleshes out. The episode is rooted in humanity; the characters are not perfect, but through those flaws, viewers see the power of interpersonal relationships and the ability of people to save one another in a myriad of ways.

Throughout the episode, Judd is lost, but one grounding force saves him from his demons: his wife, Grace Ryder. As the episode kicks off, Judd is a young kid joyriding with his friend. As Judd sits behind the wheel, a tragic accident causes his friend to die, and Judd is left with a wealth of guilt and self-doubt. Despite Grace being in grave danger after the accident, during the entirety of the episode, it is Judd who needs saving from the complex emotions that haunt him. When Judd is in danger, Grace is there for him, even when she is a hospital bed. Judd wants to take revenge on the drunk driver who drove him and Grace off the road, but then, Grace wakes up, and Judd comments that Grace has saved the drunk driver. Before that, before Grace and Judd have met face to face, they begin correspondence when Judd calls a Christian crisis hotline that Grace works at as she finishes school. Seeing their relationship develop over the phone shows the deep connection that the couple has, and in Judd’s darkest moments, Grace was there for him, and her voice saved him from his own self-destruction.

After reciting Psalm 31, which Judd has tattooed on his hand, Grace says, “None of us are perfect. It’s by Grace that we’re saved,” and this line expertly reinforces the themes of the episode. Just before he nearly beats the drunk driver who ran him and Grace off the road, we see Judd getting the tattoo, which shows Judd’s mindset. He is thinking about Grace and how she has saved him. Judd himself was responsible, at least in part, for somebody’s death; that guilt has made it hard for him to recover mentally, but grace has gotten him through. Even so, he struggles to extend forgiveness to the man who has hurt Grace. The reminder of his own trauma is fresh, but Judd is still a flawed, emotional person who needs tempering, and with Grace unconscious, he feels untethered. He’s back to being an angry person, who still blames himself for the death of his friend.

Judd once fought to make amends with Leigh-Ann, the mother of the kid who died in the car, and these parallels show how hard it is to forgive. But the forgiveness ultimately isn’t about giving a gift to someone who has done wrong; in this story, it is shown as a way of saving yourself. Instead of getting trapped in the bitterness, forgiveness allows the characters to heal themselves. Early in the episode, Leigh-Ann is hurt on the floor of her home; this portrayal represents how her son’s death debilitated her. She holds unto her anger, but as Judd makes amends by fixing Leigh-Ann’s fence (a white picket fence that represents the ideal American home, which has become dirty and has fallen apart since Cal’s death), and he takes a devastated property and makes it a home. After watching Judd work for a while as she recovers, Leigh-Ann finally gives Judd water, and not only does Judd make amends, but Leigh-Anne has physically recovered since we last saw her. She still has a sling on her arm, but she’s on the way to healing. Likewise, when Judd goes to see the man who nearly killed Grace, he is in the process of healing himself. He’s just gotten out of bed from his own injuries. His body is still battered, but as he backs away from the man because of Grace waking up, it marks that Judd is healing too, not just physically but he’s also learning to focus on what matters rather than the anger he feels. In the end, it is love and care that brings the character happiness, and it makes them happier to focus on the things that save them rather than what hurts them. Love, from the 126 and from Grace, keep Judd from self-destructing from his guilt and rage.

The title works on a number of levels. While it seems at first glance that the episode is about “Saving Grace” from the accident that has nearly killed her, the essence of the episode is that Grace is Judd’s “Saving Grace.” Not only that, but she is thousands of people’s “Saving Grace.” In her career, she has been a voice of reason and hope. Even when she can’t save a life, as with the astronaut in the season one finale, her voice still provides comfort and a sense of salvation to people who are hurting. It’s not just Grace that saves Judd. In many ways, Judd also sparks Grace’s own decisions. As Grace falls in love with Judd, she realizes that going to graduate school far away isn’t her calling. She doesn’t stay because of Judd, but there’s no doubt that her connection with Judd helped Grace realize that saving people was her calling. She decides to become a 9-1-1 operator, and for thousands of people, she becomes a “Saving Grace” on the other end of the line.

“Saving Grace,” is one of the best episodes of the series, and arguably, it is the most artfully written. It stands out because the details add up in a way that drives the plot and character development. It excels at showing rather than just telling the viewers the vital details of the story. Grace is an angel, and one of her greatest strengths is bringing people together and comforting them in their times of need. When she saves people, she then allows them to save countless others. Through Grace, Judd is a hero in his own right, but he is the kind that gets glory, while Grace’s role is more understated but just as important. The episode mostly focuses on Judd’s history, but when you look at it closely, the role of Grace, understated but poignant, is what stands out the most.

The Edits Edit

Some of the best edits this week that deserve all the love.

Carlos Reyes, 911 Lone Star 1.01 by @reyeslonestar is an amazing piece of fan art, and as usual, Alice is an amazing talent that we should all appreciate.

This Grace and Judd gifset by @ronenrubinstein is just WOW. I love looking at it and cannot stop!

Marjan Marwani by @alwaysablossom is soooooo pretty. I love the colors and all the details more than I can say!

SIERRA MCCLAIN as GRACE RYDER by @bucktks is an amazing edit that highlights Grace. You should also check out this one, which is equally good! Finally, take a look at this Tarlos set! (They all are amazing.)

Judd & Owen in 2x09 (Pt2) by @911dawnstar is such a well-done gifset, and I love seeing Judd and Owen being a wonderful duo. Also look at Part 1!

“We’re gonna have a new little Texan running around!” by @shoenaerts makes me swoon, and my heart can barely handle it because Grace and Judd are the definition of LOVE. This one is also beautiful.

the ryders + howdy. by @laurenkmyers makes my heart beat faster... I love it so much.

This Grace and Judd moment by @chrissiewatts makes me cry every time I see it AHHH.

These gifs by @strandtk is so amazing. I am in love with this edit! This one too!

This gif by @jessie-meili showcases Grace in the perfect way!

Group Hugs by @rafasilvas is one of my fave gifsets ever and highlights wonderful parallels of the 126 family. I’m in love.

The truth is, I think I just wanted to hear your voice. by @buckleys-diaz is soooooo dreamy and beautiful.

Fic Recs

remind us where we've been by @morganaspendragonss (hollyhobbit101)

Word Count: 564

Chapters: 1/1

“This is something, ain’t it?” Judd says, nudging Owen gently. Owen looks around Judd's backyard, taking it all in - TK and Carlos with their two kids, Judd's three milling around, their whole family gathered together in a future Owen's not sure he ever imagined even in his wildest dreams. "It's something," he agrees.

Home is wherever you are by @sixringss (buckscasey)

Word Count: 1651

Chapters: 1/1

A week after the fire, Carlos goes back to his home.Speculation for 2x12/13

Get Me off the Boat, I'm Ready to be on Land by @silvarafael (tiniestmite)

Word Count: 3966

Chapters: 1/1

Five times TK’s sobriety is tested after he arrives in Austin but he keeps it to himself, and the one time it gets so bad that he tells someone.

The Way Our Horizons Meet (chapter 1) by @chicgeekgirl89 (Writeallnight)

Word Count: 1500

Chapters: 1/3 (WIP)

Carlos' perspective through the aftermath of T.K.'s shooting. Follows the events of episodes 1x08-1x10.

You Found Me (Did You Ever Doubt I Would?) (Chapter 10) by @doctornineandthreequarters (doctornineandthreequarters)

Word Count: 2736

Chapters: 10/? (standalone works)

Tarlos college au

#masterlist #911 lone star #lone star post #issue 12

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thewhizzyhead · 3 years

Note

Prime numbers for the ask game!

Oooh thanks for the ask cress!!!

1. what's your favorite way to dress?

i like to going for comfort so i almost always bring a hoodie or jacket with me. i do wanna try out more stylish stuffs tho

2. if you could change anythjng about yourself, what would it be?

if God gave me the ability to wish away my lisp that would be absolutely fantastic yay (also on a bit of a um not-so-positive note i guess the broad shoulders? i just aaa really don't like the body-shaming remarks from my family so um yea just to make them shut up)

3. what movie/game/etc. helps you calm down?

ooohh the piano tiles 2 app helps me deal with my anxiety and yes i am aware of the irony in that sentence

5. do you like to organize?

yup i find it therapeutic in a way! am i in any way organized tho? hahahahaha hell no.

7. what song is your aesthetic?

i honestly don't know what my aesthetic is like so ummm i guess either Okay Okay by Alessia Cara, Sober Up by AJR, or Sampaguita by Ben&Ben (i dunno i just vibe with these songs the most aaa)

11. vague about your crush(es)

what does this mean FJSJXJSJF

13. talk about an au or story you came up with

This is gonna be long so i'm gonna use the tiny font for this

i recently started revising the musical idea thingy that 13-year-old me came up with for the yearly sunday school christmas musical prods and um yea there are a lot of changes. So the first version of the thingy (aka the one that 15-year-old me impulsively deleted, please keep in mind that 13-year-old me was still very devout) was about 3 21st-century teens that ended up in 1 CE Bethlehem due to timey-wimey stuff aka divine intervention aka ✨ plot convenience ✨ and how they try to back to the 21st century while learning to deal with their own shit through bringing back their faith and all. The current version aka post impulsive-deletion has the narrators (who are fully aware that they are in a musical) bring (or kidnap) said 3 21st-century-teens (who don't know they are in a musical) to 1 CE Bethlehem in order to "fix them" by "bringing back their faith" in a fourth-wall-breaking kind of way which then makes the narrators realize how vERY FLAWED THAT LOGIC IS which is basically me criticizing everything that was in the old version. both versions emphasize the importance of forgiving oneself and giving yourself a chance to live, moving on and healing from trauma, and stuff that most parents in my church shove under the rug and refuse to openly discuss but are experienced by many of my churchmates i.e mental health issues, addiction, the effects of bad parenting etc but i guess the new version emphasizes on how almost every single one of the things that makes the church brand the kid as "troubled" or a "misfit" are actually systematic problems that aren't caused by simply a "lack of faith". I also decided to make it ambigious on whether or not the 3 teens turned Christian in the end cause I didn't want to make seem that Christianity is the only way for one to get better. At the end of the day religion is merely a choice and not an obligation and no one should be disrespected on whether or not they choose to believe in one. religion isn't necessary for one to be a good person to others and to themselves - one can be kind even without a religion soooo yea just wanted to emphasize that at the end nfjxns

oh and i decided to make it very gay and yes tony and shelby from the wilds inspired the gay shit. i dunno how i'm gonna get my church to include this in the production tho should they ever decide that they still actually want to make this despite the very drastic and controversial changes-

17. what form of government do you like the most? (capitalism, socialism, etc.)

uhhh i guess democracy? umm okay note to self: research about this question cause maybe i'm answering it wrong i dunno jdjsdf i'll get back to you on that-

19. what do you think our purpose is in the universe?

to simply be kind and make the world a little bit better for each other and for the future in our own little way.

23. do you like soft, fluffy blankets, or rough, smooth blankets?

SOFT AND FLUFFY SOFT AND FLUFFY

29. what do you think about tumblr discourse?

either it grinds your brain into pieces at just how mean people can be or it grinds your brain into pieces at just how hilarious people can be. there is no in-between.

31. how easy is it for you to be honest?

it's still very hard but ey at least it's a lot easier now. i'm a lot more comfy with sharing shit with people now compared to a few years ago so yea

37. what do you listen to music on?

if i can't be bothered to skip the ads and if i'm busy with schoolwork or chores, then spotify. if i like having the freedom to choose my music, then youtube.

#sorry for the late answer aaaa i had to do school shit #but this was fun to do eyyy thanks for the ask cress!!#much brighter ink #ask me stuff #long post

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drsilverfish · 5 years

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15x02 Raising Hell - a map, a script, and another stage on the alchemical road..

Hey everyone, catching up British time as ever, so I haven’t jumped into your posts yet. Did you survive Bucklemming?

Honestly, with only twenty precious episodes to the final season, this was a “classic” horribly clunky offering from them (after their better episodes in S14).

Still, there are some key take-aways.

Firstly, we have a key part of the psychological road-map of the final journey, aka Dean is back on his father’s bullshit - a revenge mission - this time, against God. And he’s so focussed on anger (a cover for his grief about Mary, and Jack, and about the meaning, or lack of meaning, of their lives thanks to Chuck) that he is unnable to let love in - to hear Cas’ plea that what has been real in their lives is “us”.

This dude:

Jack the Ripper (ugh - rapey Bucklemming bingo card check) functions as a kind of God-mirror/ John-mirror - symbolising the old, white, murderous patriarch still wrestling to inhabit the bodies of the living (i.e. the wills of his creations/ the psyches of his sons) so it’s perhaps not an accident that Dean thinks his appearance is “cool”. Because Dean is in a regressive state of mind.

Despite all Dean’s progress in S14, in wrestling with, and expelling, the Ghost of John Winchester (represented by AU!Michael in his head), now, in the midst of apocalyptical stress and the recent re-loss of his mother, he is reverting back to the John Winchester script - emotionally harsh and closed off, a soldier. That is underlined by Belphegor’s deliberate appeal to that version of Dean. Notice Belphegor describes himself as “a good solider” (who just wants Hell back to the way it was) - a deliberate mirror for Goodsoldier!Dean from the past.

Yes, Dean is still looking out for Sammy (injured by the God-gun) and still trying to hunt things and save people (i.e. stop the Hellmouth from blowing wide open) - both of these were always core parts of the Goodsoldier!Dean script his father drilled into him - but he’s barely able to function emotionally, most evident in his unreasonable behaviour towards Cas.

Ketch and Rowena’s flirting just felt like the most ridiculous shoe-horned in bit of unnecessary hetero-icing, although both actors played it for all it was worth.

It was left, as so often, to the set-dressing narrative, to signal that Dean is bi and likes “meat packing”. You don’t say. And, with Ketch in shot, there’s a subtextual reference to Dean’s own earlier history of hate-flirting with Ketch (before Ketch banged his Mom). The show, like Dean, is following an old (subtextual) script. I don’t know if that’s deliberately “meta” and we can look forward to a new script or not. But as you know, I’m a sceptic on full, unambiguous, textualisation.

Wow Chuck, what an extra douch-bag, sending Kevin to Hell.

That’s a fascinating little detail, because the entire God-machine - Anubis weighing the deeds of the dead with his abacus - seemed at least to have a promise of Heaven for a life (on balance) of virtue, even if we know Heaven itself is a place where cruel torture can happen (Cas’ torture by Naomi). But, now, we learn Chuck breaks his own rules simply for apparently vengeful and petty reasons. He really is the villain of the piece.

I’m not sold on Chuck being genuinely de-powered by the Hammurabi (revenge/ equaliser) gun. He made that thing, surely he calculated handing it to the Winchesters could get himself shot and he included a fix-it?

However, I’m delighted to see Amara, the feminine God-principle, back in the narrative, here to call Chuck out for being “petulant” and “narcissistic”.

Look at that detail of the Taj Mahal in the background - a monument to love lost. Which is significant because of the cosmic mirror Chuck/ Amara provide for the earthly one in the form or our heroes.

Some US folks clued me in at the end of last season to the significance of Reno as US “divorce capital”.

https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184580452909/chuck-and-reno

So here, we see Chuck and Amara getting “divorced” in Reno - a heavenly mirror for the TFW (Dean/ Cas) “divorce” already foreshadowed by the girls in 15x01 Back and to the Future discussing their parents’ divorce as they were attacked by Bloody Mary, but also earlier, by the break-up couple mirrors in 14x20 Moriah.

Amara’s appearance also links to all the alchemical symbolism of S14.

If you followed my Jungian-themed S14 meta series, you’ll know the show has been borrowing Jung’s re-working of medieval alchemical texts. Those texts used the mystical chemistry of trying to turn lead into gold as a metaphor for the soul’s journey to God. Jung suggested that journey could also be understood as a metaphor for the psyche’s journey towards self-integration.

That fits perfectly with the Winchesters’ journey, which has always, in part, been about their struggle to emerge from the psychic trauma of their childhoods and the roles (Parent!Dean / Child!Sam - Good Soldier/ Rebel) which that trauma imprinted on them - mirrored on a cosmic scale by their supposed “fate” as the Michael and Lucifer vessels respectively.

The narrative in S14 focussed a lot, in terms of Jungian and alchemical symbolism, on the encounter with The Shadow, which corresponds to the nigredo (blackening) stage in alchemy, and which means, in psychic terms, the confrontation with that which one has repressed (both positive and negative).

I’m sure @occamshipper will join me in being excited by Amara’s bright yellow suit.

“Citrinitas” (or “yellowing”) is one of the stages in alchemy. It comes after the encounter with the Shadow (there’s a purification stage in between) and it represents the transitional stage before the final completion of the alchemical “Great Work” (lead to gold/ soul to God, achievement of psychic self-integration).

There is also, in alchemy, and in Jung, the related concept of The Sacred Marriage. This means, variously, the integration of the soul with Christ/ God, the conjoining of masculine and feminine principles in the psyche (we all have both, according to Jung) and from earlier paganism (and some forms of esoteric Christianity, particularly Gnosticism) the union of the God-principle and the Goddess-principle. The culmination of the Great Work.

For now, of course, we have the opposite - the divorce of the God-principle, Chuck, and the Goddess principle, Amara, which foreshadows divorce amongst Team Free Will. But, as we wind round the final loop of the spiral narrative, we will return, I trust, to their union, externally and internally (which we’ve already witnessed on a Heavenly level in 11x23 Alpha and Omega).

We can understand Chuck and Amara as mirrors for the masculine (John Winchester) and feminine (Mary Winchester) imagos (images in the mind - not exact copies, but internal projections) within the psyches of their children, especially Dean (because he always had conscious memories of his mother, whereas baby-Sam was too little). Mary and Amara were of course, fundamentally linked in S11, as her return from the dead was Amara’s gift to Dean.

With Mary (apparently) violently killed again by a yellow-eyed supernatural being (Jack) Dean is “unbalanced” and the progress of his self-integration has been set back, hence his regression to the old John-script of Goodsoldier!Dean, mirrored on a cosmic level by the Chuck/ Amara “divorce”.

Amara is essential to the end of the road, because as The Darkness (the destructive principle) she understands endings, unlike Chuck, for whom (as the creative principle) endings are “hard” (5x22 Swan Song). And because only by re-integrating the feminine principle (Mary Winchester, symbolising the softer “not performing” side of Dean) into the psyche can the Winchesters’ “Great (psychic) Work” be completed. Which is why I think we’ll see Mary Winchester herself again, before the end (you all know my spec by now that she was blasted into an AU by Jack, unbeknownst to him, rather than killed).

So, despite Bucklemming’s clunky writing, we have a psychic road map (a regression and an old script to overcome) and another stage on the alchemical road towards FIN.

#Supernatural #15x02 #Raising Hell #SPN meta #Meta #Jungian meta #Amara #alchemical symbolism #Jung in S15

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enchantedbride · 4 years

Text

Get to Know A Little About Joey’s Self-Ships!: Lucifer/Obey Me!Joey

So I’ve talked a little about my main ship (which I made do a little follow-up post for since have a Human!Joanna AU for Three Houses).

But! The next ship I’m going to talk about is my newest ship and the one I’m currently hyperfixating on at the time of writing this.

Tagging: @goldenworldsabound, @foreveryours-mouse

Lucifer/Joey Andrews (also known as Obey Me!Joey)

Note: Lucifer from Obey Me! does share his name and part of his backstory with the biblical/Christian figure Lucifer. I myself was raised in a Christian household, so my upbringing initially made me feel very weird and uncomfortable about my attraction to the Obey Me! character Lucifer. However, I eventually realized (thanks to support from my best friend and what I remembered learning growing up) that Obey Me!Lucifer and biblical Lucifer share little in common aside from those two major points. And eventually I became comfortable with it because to me, Obey Me!Lucifer (and the characters/world of Obey Me! in general) are kind of their own thing.

And honestly? This ship has turned out to be crazy therapeutic for me. But also, I just really loved some of the stuff I’ve come up with for it concept wise.

(Warning for a Death Mention and talk of demons and angels below the cut, but otherwise there are no major warnings I can think to put atm.)

So to start off with, while Obey Me! has a pre-built self-insert for the player in the form of the MC, I didn’t really like the backstory/lore and story arc associated with the MC as far as making my own self-insert was concerned. So, Obey Me!Joey is a separate character from the MC with her own backstory and character arc and interactions. The MC is still a character though, just an OC instead of self-insert (whom I named Katherine or ‘Kat’ for short). And I did wind up messing around somewhat with the plot too to make everything work.

ANYWAY

So, Joey is one of three human students sent to the Devildom (where demons live) as part of the Royal Academy of Diavolo’s exchange program with the human world and Celestial Realm (the academy to my understanding is supposed to resemble a college/university). The exchange program was pioneered by Diavolo, Prince of the Devildom and head of the academy’s student council, in hopes to build positive relationships and understanding between demons, humans and angels.

However, because she and Kat seem to be ordinary humans with no magic powers to protect themselves, rather than having them live with the third human exchange student and the three angelic exchange students from the Celestial Realm, Joey and Kat are instead assigned to live in the House of Lamentation. The house to the seven members of RAD’s student council (aside from Diavolo), including Prince Diavolo’s right hand man, Lucifer.

Lucifer and Joey are both people who tend to push themselves quite hard, often neglecting to take care of themselves in pursuit of their goals. But they can and will go out of their way for others. They both deal with a lot of shame and concerns about how they appear to others, but the way it manifests in each of them in completely different. It causes them to grate against each other in the beginning, especially when compounded with the ways in which they’re different. But, over time the both of them come to deeply affect one another, and not just because of developing romantic feelings, but because they force each other to reevaluate themselves and their own perspectives.

During the course of the year Joey is to spend at the academy, a terrible conflict breaks out between demons who support and oppose Diavolo’s exchange program. Joey attempts to protect Lucifer, Diavolo, and one of her fellow exchange students and loses her life in the process.

However, she returns to life as an angel, and not only does she cope with the trauma of death and coming back to life, but she has to cope with her new life changing in a lot of dramatic ways. And, instead of returning to the human world, she instead is to go with the angels to the Celestial Realm at the end of her stay in the Devildom.

And as for Lucifer, he worries about not only her well-being, but what what might become of their relationship once she leaves for the Celestial Realm.

How to best summarize their dynamic:

Lucifer doesn’t like to admit it, but Joey has him wrapped around her little finger. But even if he won’t admit it, it’s obvious from his behavior. He’d do just about anything for her. She not only challenges his perspective and changes him, but she gives him the sort of affection, validation, and space to be honest and vulnerable he has gotten from few others. He loves spoiling her when they have a chance to spend time alone together and when they’re not alone he enjoys keeping her close at hand if he can, as often as he can.

Joey’s perspective is also challenged in kind, and she receives from Lucifer a lot of care and affection that were sorely missing from her life. She is confronted with tempering her kindness and compassion with being able to think of herself and her own needs, and to develop a strength of heart to confront things she didn’t think she had the courage to face. She likes helping Lucifer step away from his work so he can rest once in a while, and to coax him to be honest, vulnerable and to treat other’s with more respect than he initially does.

They both care for each other, and are strongly affectionate and devoted to each other. They butt heads quite a bit, though. But, usually they are able to resolve their conflicts, even the longer-lived ones.

Some Lucifer/Joey Facts:

Part way through her stay in the Devildom, while she was still human, Lucifer and Joey made a pact as a guard against the possibility of those who opposed Diavolo and the exchange program gaining a hold magic that could allow them to control Lucifer and his brothers and turn them unwillingly against Diavolo. This pact dissolved when Joey died as a human and became an angel.

Joey doesn’t like Lucifer calling her ‘Master’ (a human who makes a pact with a demon is technically their ‘master’ for the duration of the pact). Lucifer sometimes refers to her as such in order to tease her, but only when the two of them are in private.

Lucifer initially doesn’t like video games, but he becomes somewhat interested in strategy games after Joey slowly introduces him to them, starting with virtual chess and working her way up to a Devildom game that’s similar to Fire Emblem but has a PVP component somewhat similar to Fates.

Lucifer winds up teaching Joey a bit about the plants that grow in the Devildom because of his interest in gardening. She can’t take care of all of his plants for him, but she can help out with a couple of them if he’s got a lot of work to do.

Cerberus (Lucifer’s dog) likes, trusts, and is very friendly towards Joey.

Lucifer also teaches her some of the basics of being an angel after she dies and comes back as one, revealing some pieces of his time in the Celestial Realm that he normally would be reluctant to share with others.

Joey considers herself a pretty good cook. Lucifer disagrees. In his opinion, she is an excellent cook.

I headcanon that Lucifer is actually fairly decent at mending clothing in a pinch and has fixed a couple articles of Joey’s clothing in the past.

Joey also encourages Lucifer to be more respectful of people’s boundaries and to ask for things more often rather than demand them. He’s gotten better about this with several folks (Joey being the person he’s best about it with), but it’s trickier when it comes to his brothers since they tend not to listen to him unless he’s being a dick. It’s a work in progress.

Simeon was Lucifer’s wingman and Diavolo was Joey’s wingman for Lucifer and Joey getting together.

Simeon’s The Seven Lords novels are based on Lucifer and his brothers, and he eventually added a character based on Joey (named Lady Fortitude) whose in a relationship with Lucifer’s stand in character in the series, the Lord of Corruption.

Joey becomes one of the few people besides Diavolo who can get through to Lucifer when he’s in a rage. Initially, she can only keep him talking long enough for Diavolo to come and calm him down, but as she and Lucifer get closer, she gains the ability to calm him down herself.

#devils and dead girls (lucey)#lucifer tag tbd #obey me!joey tag tbd #(need a new tag anyway since the first one doesn't really work for her anymore)

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meta-squash · 4 years

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A ramble on Dallas Theater Center Les Miserables

So, 5 years late, I jumped back on the bandwagon and finally watched a bootleg of Dallas Theater Center’s 2014 production of Les Miserables.

And wow. I can’t believe I waited 5 damn years to watch it. So here’s a long rambling write up on it based on the live-tweeting I was doing as I watched (and a little bit on me skipping through the bootleg video right now). It’s partly just me summarizing scenes so I can nerd out about the little details I loved and towards the end me talking about the show as a whole and why it was so fucking important.

First of all I wanna say that I'm surprised it took this long for a professional theater company to do a "modern day" Les Mis. I know all the fans fucking love their Modern AUs fics, I've been reading them since like 2012 and I love them. But also I'm SO glad someone finally did it because Les Miserables' themes are universal and they are amazing but they're also really relevant to what's going on today, or 5 years ago (since it's only gotten fucking worse tbh).

My first big impression was how great the costuming was. You can tell the socioeconomic class of the characters just from what they’re wearing, from how they posture and interact with others. Which is easy when it’s period costuming, you just make everyone look dirty and ripped up vs not dirty, but this (aside from the Thenardiers) is a little more subtle.

Also re: the costuming, I absolutely LOVE that they modernized Javert’s costume into a cop’s uniform but managed to retain the classic Javert Silhouette by giving him that trenchcoat, so we still get the expected Inspector Javert Silhouette despite the fact that he’s a modern day cop. Also all of the other cops/soldiers being straight up SWAT was an excellent decision, not only because it shows the sheer violence of a police that isn’t supposed to necessarily be SWAT, but also because the helmets completely cover their heads, so when the soldiers sing lines, they don’t even sound human. Yet another layer.

Nehal Joshi as Valjean was great. Honestly the moment I keep thinking about is actually from the very beginning, just after Valjean is released. Joshi looks so happy, delighted, like his heart is light again. He smiles as he sings “ Drink from the pool / How clean the taste” while looking up into the sky like he’s amazed at being in the open air. Then suddenly his posture changes completely, becomes guarded and hard, his expression gets closed off, and he sings “Never forget the years, the waste” before thumbing at his nose in that tough way and grabbing his bag off the ground. It was an emphasis on a pair of lines that I’ve never seen properly emphasized before. Usually the emphasis is on the next lines, when Valjean is saying “Now let’s see / what this new world has in store for me”. But here they emphasize that despite being free, he has traumas he has to deal with, and experiences that mean he’s wary of the world. It makes his theft of the silver make a lot more sense; it’s not just opportunistic, it’s also that he straight up doesn’t trust anybody.

(Another note on costumes: Valjean’s post-prison costume is his orange jumpsuit with this weird ratty, torn up sweater thing over it. I do very much wish they’d given him a hoodie that was equally as ratty instead of a sweater because I feel like that would’ve been another interesting layer of commentary.)

Two notes I made specifically about this production’s Soliloquy: This production had Valjean rip his prison papers accidentally, while he’s in the middle of an emotional gesture, then he stares at the rip in disbelief, and comes to the realization that he could just rip it up, and so he does. I thought that was a very cool mechanic. The audience literally watches him get the idea of changing who he is. Also, when he sings “I am reaching, but I fall / And the night is closing in” he actually wraps the rope of his bag around his own neck, like he’s considering death, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. I thought it was really interesting considering those are the lines that directly mirror/parallel Javert’s Suicide.

This production also has all the Bad People roles played by white people, which is just fantastic. The foreman, Javert, all the cops, etc etc. I thought it was an excellent decision, since all of the main characters (minus the revolutionaries) are POC.

Fantine was amazing, has an incredible voice, and her I Dreamed A Dream sounded genuinely miserable, almost frantic with the fact that not only is she a single mother struggling to pay for her child who’s living with some other family, she now has nowhere to turn for money at all, and she’s completely alone. I think she’s my favorite Fantine of any of the ones I saw.

And Lovely Ladies absolutely blew me away. This was the first Lovely Ladies I’ve ever seen that felt Real. Not just that there was sex going on (because there was, there’s people fucking and getting blowjobs etc in the background the entire time), but it doesn’t feel like something silly or shallow. The entire thing feels desperate and exploitative and miserable and painful. Most of the other characters are dressed in provocative, revealing clothes. But there are a few in just jeans and t-shirts, looking desperate and kind of bedraggled. And then you have Fantine, who is literally just in a slip and long socks, looking out of place and terrified.

The usual Lovely Ladies shenanigans do ensue, but there’s a tinge of horribleness to it that is sharper than in the traditional show. In the traditional show, the moment where the music suddenly slows, and all the women sing “Lovely ladies / Going for a song / Got a lot of callers / But they never stay for long”, it usually feels like kind of a weird and unprompted moment of introspection after so much ruckus, but in this version the reason everyone slows down is because the pimp plucks their cash out of each of their hands one by one. And then the horribleness is increased tenfold because all of the women are in a line with men behind them simulating sex, and Fantine is in the center, bent double, the Captain behind her, staring down the audience. With each thrust she grits her words out like she’s in pain in every way imaginable. And the Captain ‘finishes’ just as she hits the line “dead!” Which is just. A lot. But so good. It packs so much more of a punch than Fantine leading the Captain offstage, or to one side of the stage.

The way that Confrontation was staged was also so cool to me. In the shows I’ve seen the first part of Confrontation is Javert and Valjean facing off with Javert stage left and Valjean kind of up beside Fantine’s bed, but they’re on the same “level,” in that Valjean walks a few paces forward a few lines later and they grapple. In this version, they stood quite literally on either side of Fantine’s hospital bed, so that they’re arguing across her dead body.

Madame Thenardier made me think of a bizarre cross between Miss Hannigan, the mom from Matilda, and Patsy Stone from Absolutely Fabulous. She did a great job. M Thenardier is a douchey hipster pirate type guy with white guy dreads. Also they made him an ex-con as well, but he displays the numbers tattooed on his chest with pride compared to Valjean who hides them, which was yet another interesting decision.

This version of Les Mis has taught me that “My mom doesn’t let me drink” is the absolute BEST piece of spoken dialogue you could throw in before Master Of The House kicks the fuck off.

Also this version has Eponine participating in the scams during Master Of The House: she takes peoples’ orders, carries plates, dances, etc. She’s cleaner and more pampered than Cosette, but she’s still being used.

Look Down was really interesting to me. Now, I think what I’m about to say is partly informed by costuming. That is, I think with period costuming an audience has a harder time distinguishing more subtle roles between (non-main) characters. What I mean is, in traditional Look Down, it just seems like three characters having an argument with each other, but with a modernized version the costuming makes it clear that it’s an old beggar woman, a prostitute, and her pimp. While that’s obvious from the actual dialogue, the period costuming makes it a little harder to glean the separate character types other than “beggar type”. Anyway, the roles being clearer via costuming makes all the interactions seem a lot more Real. It’s not just people all dressed alike singing lines at each other, it’s actual separate people having actual conflicts.

Also, I really really liked Mark Hancock as Gavroche. He’s older, or at least bigger, than most kids who end up playing Gavroche, and he’s not the most beautiful singer, but I think that works all the better for a production like this one. He’s not a cutesy Oliver Twist-type character. He’s a kid living rough on the streets, and he’s got a sense of humor but he is a badass.

This version also had a LOT more flirtatious behavior between Marius and Cosette. Like it’s not just one glance on the street. During The Robbery, Marius and Cosette are giving little glances and flirty waves the whole time, all shy and cute, little hand signals like “I want to talk to you oh my god” etc. Also this Cosette has glasses! She’s so cute!

Stars as a song feels very weird when it’s a Modern Day Cop singing about such a philosophical topic, and at first I was kinda ??? about it. Because you know, in a period piece, you kind of expect more elaborate language, you expect certain types of morality, etc. It sounds weird coming out of someone dressed like a pig you’d see on the street in real life. But then at the end of the song Javert takes a rosary out of his breast pocket to sing “Lord let me find him...” etc, and suddenly it actually made a lot of sense. It finally connected the religious references and morality displayed in the lyrics. Because a lot of shitty cops in real life are masquerading as Christians, so again, a good decision.

Ah, the ABC Cafe. Always lovely to hear those horns. John Campione was AMAZING as Enjolras. At first I was a little disappointed they made him a white guy, but then I thought about it and it actually makes a lot of sense. Despite his passion about justice etc, Brick Enjolras is a wealthy student; what better way to show his privilege in a modern setting than to have him be white? Anyway, I think Campione did a great job of portraying a leader who is so passionate, and so dedicated, and so intent on his cause but also kind of stressed out as the day draws nearer. (More on that later.)

Similarly, this Grantaire is a little shit. He does this hilarious like “call on me!” hand raise before “I am agog, I am aghast” which I thought was quite funny and cute. Also after “It’s better than an opera,” the Amis all laugh and clap, and Enjolras does this extremely sarcastic slow clapping before admonishing Marius with “It is time for us all to decide who we are” etc. Also Grantaire and Enjolras are actually standing beside each other for Marius lines, so that when he says “struck to the bone in a moment of breathless delight,” Grantaire looks directly at Enjolras and stays staring at him, so that when he moves downstage to stand across from Marius and sing “Red!” and “Black!” at him, it feels more like solidarity than mocking.

But then Enjolras pulls Marius further downstage for his “Marius you are no longer a child” etc lines. His body language is great here. When he sings “Who cares about your lonely soul,” he doesn’t just look like some charismatic leader man. He looks like someone who’s stressed out and a little annoyed/exasperated that this person is causing a distraction right when things are started to get important. He runs his hands through his hair, his gestures are clipped and fast, like he’s got too much energy and isn’t quite sure where to put it. It’s so good. He sings “Our little lives don’t count at all.” And then there’s a long, long moment of silence. A long one, where Marius looks around at his friends and realization that what they’re undertaking is much bigger than his emotional outburst, that Enjolras is right and he has to be with them instead of off in the clouds. And he raises his hand tentatively and then more surely towards Enjolras and sings that next “Red! The blood of angry men!” all on his own before the rest of the Amis join in. GREAT decisions there. SO COOL. (Also this is the moment when an Amis Hand Sign is established, which is important later on.)

This show uses silence in a way that I’ve never really seen another version do it. After Gavroche yells “General Lamarque is dead!” there’s usually a beat of silence before Enjolras begins to sing. In this version there is a long, long moment of silence when everyone looks around at each other, a moment where Joly tosses his pamphlet angrily onto the table and sits down with his head in his hands, a moment where Marius and Grantaire are the only two who turn away and face upstage at the news, a moment where they all process that this is fucking Real, and everything that they’ve been planning is suddenly Actually Happening. And then Enjolras begins, and his voice is so soft, and so sad, and it’s like he’s delivering a eulogy, but it’s only when he gets to “Is the sign we await!” and we get those trumpets that it changes into Enjolras The Leader, and it’s go time, and everything is Intense. Campione is fantastic as Enjolras because I think often people play Enjolras as this solid, charismatic leader who is stoney-faced and sure of himself etc. Which works for the period style (and is fairly Brick-accurate), but I think would seem a little odd in a modern day setting. This Enjolras is in it, he’s into it, he’s fucking intense and ablaze with energy. He sings Do You Hear The People Sing like he’s giving a speech, like he’s trying to convince (And “the real glory is to convince” so y’know).

And Do You Hear The People Sing as a campaigning song is brilliant. It starts out not with march, but with handing out fliers made of red paper, passing them out and getting out the word. Only then do they pull out signs and put on red caps and start marching.

In My Life/A Heart Full Of Love was so fucking hilariously cute. Marius and Cosette are both excellent levels of awkward, and there’s a lot of nonverbal flirting going on, and I just thought it was really well done.

I was told while I was live-tweeting that during One Day More the sort of dancing march they do (because it’s like a dance, instead of the in-place marching of the traditional version) is actually the Toyi-Toyi, a South African dance that was used as a form of protest during Apartheid and during other times as well. So that was a very cool addition. I’m sure there are other callbacks in this show to other protests or protest traditions like that that I didn’t even catch. The dance also reminded me of the body percussion used in A Quoi Tu Danses from 1789: Les Amants De La Bastille, so that was cool as well. We also get face paint and signs and red berets and button pins and a lot of stuff that has been seen in a lot of modern protests/movements lately.

Side note: Javert’s disguise is amazing because he retains his cop boots and trousers and crisp white shirt; he just puts a brown jacket and a red scarf over it and wears a red beret.

OKay SO. This is possibly the BEST On My Own I’ve ever seen. Now, I’m highly partial to Briana Carlson-Goodman as Eponine because the emotion in her voice is just mind-blowing. But this On My Own was so amazing. First of all, I’m amazed I’ve never seen any other production do this: when Eponine sings “pretending he’s beside me”, she puts out her hand like she’s holding some imaginary lover’s hand, like she’s genuinely imagining him walking with her, and it made her self-deception that much sadder. And this version was so good, I think because it was this perfect combination of angry and disappointed and yearning and self-deceiving. You can tell this Eponine KNOWS she’s deluding herself that Marius will ever love her, that she’s hugely disappointed and almost angry at that fact, but she still loves him and wants him and wants that love, and it just makes that self-deception all the stronger.

This version of Les Mis brings the barricade in as a flown set piece, which I think is an interesting decision. I definitely prefer the US Tour version, where the downstage scrim is backlit/lifted and both the audience and Eponine are suddenly confronted with the fully-built barricade. However, the barricade being flown in does give the Barricade Boys a moment to stand and admire their handiwork, so that’s kind of also cool.

(Somewhat unrelated, but throughout the show this Grantaire is a lot more still than other actors’ versions of R, but also more still than the other Amis in this show, so it’s clearly a choice. Other version of R are slumped over a table or slumped on the ground a lot, or they’re wobbly, or just generally restless and upset. This R is so still and just standing unmoved and blank it’s definitely a choice. Very much taking the “he seemed to be waiting there for a bullet which should spare him the trouble of waking” quote from the Brick and translating it to the stage version, in that he does move to shoot his gun but aside from that he’s so stock still it’s like he’s given up. Anyway. Back to the actual show instead of me just waxing lyrical about my favorite character.

When Eponine climbs over the barricade, Marius waves down all the guns just as Joly yells “There’s a boy climbing the barricade!” This kind of happens in other versions, but it seems like most of the traditional Les Mis versions all the Barricade Boys just kind of accept someone’s climbing the barricade and let Eponine over? In this one Marius like actually is waving down their guns, blatantly being like “don’t shoot, I know this person.”

And when Eponine is revealed to be shot, they don’t just let her die in Marius’ arms. The first half of A Little Fall Of Rain is sung with Eponine in Marius’ arms, but there’s also Feuilly there as a medic, pressing handkerchiefs to her wound, his hand on her with Marius’ hand on top of his and Eponine’s on top of them both. When Marius is saying “and you will live ‘Ponine,” medic/Feuilly shakes his head at him as if to say, ‘don’t tell her that, she’s not going to make it, I’m so sorry,’ but he still has his hand on her wound. It’s only when she sings “Just hold me now, and let it be” that Eponine pushes the medic/Feuilly away so she can die just with Marius. I really, really, really loved that because it seems so Right. Like, they’re fighting for a better world, they’re not just going to let an injured person die, they’re going to try their best to help her even if she’s dying and there’s nothing they can do. And I really liked that there was a medic there, but he was faced upstage, away from the audience, as if he was trying to help but also not intrude on this private moment. But when Eponine does push him away, he goes fairly easily, like he’s realized that she’s realized that she’s going to die. Also, instead of carrying Eponine offstage like a ragdoll, Grantaire and Feuilly bring over a stretcher and she’s carried off in it by Marius and Feuilly while Grantaire collects the handkerchiefs that were bloodied by her wound.

Valjean’s soldier disguise is the SWAT gear, even the helmet, although he mostly carries it in his hand rather than wearing it. It’s interesting because the difference between the SWAT gear and the suits he wears as Fauchelevent are a hugely stark difference, whereas the difference between his nice period clothes and the soldier’s period uniform isn’t quite so intense.

I noticed that during Drink With Me, Joly put his hand on Grantaire’s shoulder during “Let the wine of friendship never run dry,” which is sweet. I also noticed that aside from the moments where he was shooting his gun and the few moments he was being helpful re: Eponine’s death, Grantaire spends most of his time very very still, staring down at the floor with his shoulders slumped. He judges moments with just a shake of the head and turning away while others watch. His part in Drink With Me is sung with a bitterness that is more final than it is angry, like he can’t understand why they’ve all chosen to sacrifice themselves like this and he hates it and he’s bitter that all his friends are going to die but he’s realized there’s nothing he can do about it.

Bring Him Home is SUCH a hard song to sing and it’s actually really interesting in this version, I think. Because in traditional shows I think Valjean is played as a fairly calm person who is just always calm. Joshi plays his Valjean like he has taught himself to be calm, but inside he’s still kind of angry and traumatized and still has those instincts and still doesn’t quite know whether to believe in god or not, or something like that. So Bring Him Home is a moment where it seems like at first he’s just hoping, and then by the end of the song he’s genuinely imploring god to save Marius. Like it’s the first time he’s ever really begged a higher power to do something instead of just acting of his own power to make the good happen. I have no idea if I’m articulating myself well.

Again, Campione is a FANTASTIC Enjolras who plays him like a stressed out passionate leader who is constantly stuck between This Is Finally Real Hooray and Holy Shit This Is Too Fucking Real Oh God. In The Second Attack he portrays it really well, looking around at all the people he suddenly feels responsible for, body language like he’s trying to make too many split-second decisions. It’s just really good.

Death Of Gavroche is also great because even though this Gavroche is not the best singer, he gets shot once and keeps reaching for the bullets, and only stops when they riddle him with bullets. Also, I didn’t realize this until skipping around in the video to write this, but I think they kind of tried to retain some of the Gavroche-Grantaire relationship that the US Tour established? Grantaire goes from being kinda listless stage left to bolting over to the barricade once Gavroche starts climbing, reaching for him desperately; he gets shot in the leg and goes down and spends the rest of Gavroche’s lines up to his death with his head in his hands. Once Gavroche dies, Enjolras actually checks on Grantaire and wraps a tourniquet around his leg while Feuilly and Marius tend to Gavroche’s body.

Marius gets a thigh injury during The Final Battle (we know this because this production shows Actual Blood! Gavroche is actually bleeding! Eponine, too! And Marius! And Enjolras! Like there’s actual red and it makes it so much more intense! Anyway, Marius gets a bullet to the thigh, which frankly I think makes a lot more sense than the shoulder injury he gets in canon at least in terms of him being unconscious for so long (although I guess in canon he also has at least one head injury so meh). Anyway, Valjean sees it and immediately tourniquets him as one by one all the revolutionaries are picked off by bullets.

This Enjolras death is my favorite I’ve ever seen. We don’t get a permets-tu scene, but that’s okay because this is fantastic in another way. Enjolras doesn’t die on the barricade.

Enjolras is standing center stage, the bodies of his friends around him. He’s shot once, in the stomach, and goes down on all fours. As he’s on the floor, SWAT cops surround him, pointing machine guns straight at him. Enjolras struggles up, standing, and faces the cops and the audience. He raises his hand in a defiant fist to the air and is shot in the head.

Then there is a long, long stretch of silence. Quite literally an entire minute (I just counted) of silence, where there is no music, no speaking, nothing. Just the sounds of SWAT walking around, checking the bodies on the floor, and the indistinct sound of walky-talky chatter. Only after a whole minute of silence has passed and the SWAT leave the stage do the little plucked notes and the clarinet playing the Bring Him Home instrumental begin as Valjean stands up.

Valjean actually goes over and checks Enjolras’ pulse to see if he could possibly be alive, which I think hurts A Lot. And then there’s a moment where he looks around at all the bodies on the floor and kind of doubles over in shock, but only for a moment, and then he’s bolting back over to Marius to make sure he’s still breathing and then heaving him up into his arms.

(By the way, the bodies of the revolutionaries remain onstage through all of the proceeding songs.)

Dog Eat Dog is a boring, crap song in every production, and this one is no exception. The guy playing Thenardier is quite good but there’s really no way to redeem how boring a song Dog Eat Dog is. Also, this version cuts out the long instrumental part of Valjean walking with Marius through the sewer due to the fact that they don’t have that crazy projection thing. Instead it’s just a few seconds of him dragging Marius before encountering Thenardier and then also a few seconds before encountering Javert. Also, Valjean straight up puts his chest against Javert’s gun while he’s asking to save Marius’ life. Brave as fuck.

Okay this Javert’s Suicide was mostly really really good. Edward Watts gives Javert this sort of frantic emotion that Valjean spared him on the barricade and then is only asking to save this stranger. He looks genuinely freaked out and distressed. It’s not just confusion, it’s like actual Freaking Out. The only part I didn’t like was the actual throwing himself off the bridge part, but honestly I feel like there really is no way to do that part in a way that isn’t a little ridiculous-seeming. It’s hard to have a show where they never had any sort of fly rigs or any special types of practical effects at all and then suddenly there’s a guy flying through the air? and take that seriously. I dunno. But in any case, the rest of it is really good because the frantic confusion and questioning and anger and sadness and everything is so well done. Also, he takes his cross out of his pocket and drops it on the ground before he jumps, like he believes even god has failed him.

And then the lights return and the bodies of the revolutionaries are still onstage, with police tape cordoning them off. Turning begins with women in black mourning clothes coming onstage: at first they stand behind the tape with candles and flowers and teddy bears, then someone breaks the tape and they move to sit beside the bodies and set flowers down beside them. As Turning is going on, as the women move to sit beside the bodies, Marius also enters and sits in a chair upstage.

So Empty Chairs At Empty Tables happens with the bodies of the revolutionaries lying on the floor right in front of Marius, and women in black kneeling beside the bodies, facing upstage. But as Marius sings “Phantom faces at the window, phantom shadows on the floor,” the revolutionaries rise and move downstage, looking at him. They all make their little group hand sign before exiting, until it’s just Enjolras looking at him, then he makes the sign as well and exits and Marius is left alone with the mourning women in front of him and his hand raised in farewell. It’s just SO GOOD because I think it makes it all the more real. It feels like he’s actually singing to the bodies of his friends as well as their memories, like he’s full of survivor’s guilt and he’s watching them walk away from him and doesn’t know what to do. Combining the Turning Women’s mourning with Marius’ mourning is really cool, because it shows it’s really not just Marius that’s affected by this, and essentially he’s singing Empty Chairs for himself as well as the women in mourning kneeling on the stage before him.

Side note: Dorcas Leung, who plays Cosette, is a True Fucking Soprano. Her voice is SO high. It’s wild. Like, really wild. Like, glass-breaking high but in a good way. Also she’s really cute.

Anyway, the next thing I took note of was Valjean telling Marius why he was leaving without telling Cosette goodbye. He sings “Promise me, Monsieur, Cosette will never know” and puts his hand out in a way that’s partially imploring, and partially asking for a handshake on the promise. Marius says “For the sake of Cosette, it must be so,” but pointedly does not shake his hand. He’s going to honor the promise but he’s not gonna fucking like it.

Wedding Chorale/Beggars At The Feast is mostly unremarkable except that Mme Thenardier is dressed like Cruella de Ville. Oh, and Thenardier gets a kick in the balls instead of a punch to the face from Marius. Also the actor who played Combeferre and the actor who played Bossuet are dancing together so during Beggars At The Feast when Thenardier sings “This one’s a queer, but what can you do?”, the Combeferre actor does a little wave.

I’ve always hated in the musical that Valjean goes from being perfectly healthy to straight up dying in a matter of minutes but I also understand that montages of like a year are hard to do in musical format, so I forgive it but it’s still annoying.

Anyway, this Epilogue is FUCKING FANTASTIC. Valjean does this beautiful laugh of relief and amazement when Fantine tells him “And you will be with god” like he’s still amazed after all these years that he’s a Good Person Who Deserves Heaven.

Also, Fantine sits down on the bench beside Valjean, and then when Marius and Cosette enters, Cosette runs and sits down between Valjean and Fantine, facing Valjean, and there’s a moment where Fantine smiles in disbelief and strokes Cosette’s hair like “oh my god this is my daughter!”

Finally, the fucking kicker for me: “Take my hand, I’ll lead you to salvation / Take my love, for love is everlasting.” That’s always the moment in the show when I start actually crying and this one made it even sadder: Eponine is not the only one to enter in that moment. Eponine enters singing the duet with Fantine like usual, but Enjolras and Gavroche also enter, standing behind her, not singing.

This was such a great, fascinating, unique decision, and I fucking loved it. Because with that group, you have all the types of love and belief that are Important in the Brick: Fantine, the love of a mother. Valjean, the love of a father and the faith and belief that comes from someone else suddenly believing in you and the goodness that is a result of that. Marius and Cosette, romantic love, but also love of children and chosen family. Eponine, unrequited love and sacrifice. Gavroche, not necessarily love but an innocent death, a death from the goodness that comes from wanting to help. And Enjolras, the love of the people, the belief in the people, love of patria and the belief in justice. Just all of these important symbols standing together.

Then Do You Hear The People Sing reprise starts up, and the rest of the cast enter and stand at the edges of the stage around the group at center before everyone scatters out and spreads across the stage.

So basically that was an incredible fucking show. Like, okay. Since joining the Les Mis fandom in late 2011-ish or something I've read A LOT of Les Mis fanfics, I've read the entire book, seen the show live half a dozen times plus a ton of filmed boots and movie adaptations and last year's BBC miniseries. I've got a Les Mis tattoo and I'm vaguely thinking of getting another one. I've read fanfic taking place in canon era, modern day, Mai 1968, the 90s, the 40s, and on and on. All of them are important because all of them interpret the themes differently. Basically what I'm saying is I've consumed A Lot of Les Miserables.

But this version of Les Mis is So Important. Like, it's important enough I'm really surprised they didn't give in to the call for a DVD recording back in 2014.

Because the difference between like, the traditional version of the show, and reading a modern day AU fanfiction, and this Dallas show is that this Dallas show is In Front Of You. It's important because you're used to seeing this show with 19th century clothes and 19th century mannerisms so you don't necessarily connect it to today, or you do on a surface level only.

And in fanfics you can imagine it, but it's not the same.

But this show takes the music we all know and the characters we all know and places it in front of us NOW. We get Valjean in an orange jumpsuit, posturing like we've seen people posture in real life. We get Enjolras in a denim vest and button pins. We get Fantine, a woman of color, being fired for having a child out of wedlock and being accused of prostitution, and having to actually turn to prostitution. And we get a depiction that shows so viscerally how horrible that is. We get white people as cops (SWAT, no less) while POC are abused.

Suddenly this is a show that connects on every level.

And not only that but the visuals of the actual rebellion can be connected to so many movements and protests and things that have happened in recent years. Like with the Toyi-Toyi. And all the signs and pins and face paint and weapons and clothes and even to some extent the barricade.

And the cops going from soldiers with bayonets (which, to be fair, back in the day were pretty daunting weapons with their triangular blades, but we don't see them that way) to SWAT with helmets that black out their faces and semi-automatics is a a hard-hitting message.

And I've always thought it was funny that people who see the show casually think it's about Marius & Cosette's romance. Because that’s not all it’s about, of course. But this version made me really, really realize how little that romance matters in the musical. How much the musical is about Valjean, and then in tandem about the rebellion. Because place the whole "I've known you a day and I'm in love" thing in a modern setting and you realize how ridiculous it is, and how much more important Valjean's growth is, and how much more important the movement and the rebellion is. I mean the entire book is just about the Power Of Love And Belief In All Its Forms etc etc. But I think this version pointed out better than any other how many other forms of love exist in this story, besides the romance of Marius and Cosette.

But truly I think the most important thing that this show did is what I mentioned earlier: it placed the story, its themes, its characters, its rebellion, it's Love and Belief, in the Here And Now, and made it really, truly connect with its audience and the present world. This is a show that people always say is so relevant, so important, and it is. It really is. But sometimes, for a casual viewer, it’s hard to see past the period costumes and sets. And then you transplant the show into modern dress and modern sets and suddenly it’s a story that is just as believable and hard-hitting and important now as it was then. Suddenly you can connect with these characters and you can see these things happening in real life, in present day, and you can believe that it would happen.

It just blows my mind that we have all these Modern AU fanfiction pieces, that we have multiple groups of people doing Modern Les Mis Youtube interpretations, that there’s a Spanish musical out there that’s purely about Grantaire (which, god I wish there was more info on!), that there’s a ton of music and TV adaptations and yet this is the first time I’ve seen a professional company do any sort of modern interpretation of the show. And it works SO incredibly well and is SO hard-hitting and just took my breath away.

Uh so yeah such massive praise to the Dallas Theater Center for having the courage and imagination and awesomeness to finally do a modern version of this story because they knocked it out of the damn park and made an already important story even more important.

#les miserables #les mis #dallas les mis #dallas les miserables #dallas theater center #dallas theater center les miserables #les mis dallas #les miserables meta #les mis meta

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