#like im sure he meant she likes naive/stupid guys but just the way he worded it made it sound. so wrong | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shebeafancyflapjack · 3 years ago

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Eavesdrop

A quick alternate to Earshot, but set in canon S2 rather than NPL, where the demons focus on Michael for their taunting.

Second book in on the top shelf. That’s the one to pull to unlock the secret door hidden in the wall behind Michael’s desk. She’s supposedly the only other being, besides Janet, in this micro-universe privy to that bit of info. It leads to a hallway that extends to a secret chamber filled with a bunch of Earth collectables along with, recently added on her suggestion, a mini-arcade with classic game machines and a karaoke stand. The walls were sound proof, obviously.

She’s not here to escape a lecture from Chidi about messing up the laundry by hanging out in her demon pal’s very own ‘bud hole’ this time. Her ear is pressed to the closed panel after sealing herself in, waiting for the big Satanic tree to arrive.

To her surprise, and slight annoyance, he hadn’t arrived alone.

“You shouldn’t be getting drunk like this. What if the humans saw you? Everyone here is supposed to be abstinent of all vices!” Michael had grumbled, a ruckus of giggles behind him.

“That’s the point, dummy! It’s a ‘Purge’ night!” Vicky cackled; “Tell ‘im again, Gunner!”

“I got the idea off this human movie - one night, we’re allowed to do any shirt we wanted without consequence! We can drink, smoke, do drugs, stab and bite to our black hearts content!”

“NO! Definitely no stabbing! Or hurting any of them...Physically!” He’d struggled to make that last detail sound natural.

Good save, bud, Eleanor had thought.

Another demon, Petra, Eleanor thinks, had groaned; “Ugh, you are such a buzzkill lately. Can’t you see how awesome this idea is? Think about how wasted Eleanor is gonna let herself get! That dork, Jason, is gonna be high as a kite and it will make Chidi and Tahani wanna cower inside their homes! It’s genius!”

Eleanor had almost let herself be excited for the idea of trying to make the most of this supposed ‘torture’, similar to the one at Tahani’s party, which even Michael had said she hadn’t done too bad at acting and preparing the chaos sequence the next morning. She could hear the worry in Michael’s response though, being surrounded by three hundred demons, losing their inhibitions and wanting to let off steam in the most ‘passionate’ way possible, had the potential to go very wrong. For all of them.

As she listened, Michael’s attempts to reign in his rogue employees soon descended into outright pleading, which only gave him more scorn in return.

“Look just...remember what our goal is here. I get that you’re all frustrated but we’re doing so well and all I ask is that you don’t go too far on the humans, please.” He’d tried to ask, nicely. Wrong move.

The laughter nearly shook the building.

“Jeez! If you love these humans so much, why don’t you fork them?” Bambadjan teased.

“Nah, let’s face it, not even those cockroaches would wanna go near that disgusting skin suit with all it’s musty folds.” Vicky responded; “...Oh, what’s wrong, Mikey? It’s not like we’re insulting ‘you’ after all...Unless you’re starting to feel a little too cosy in that costume of yours.”

Eleanor’s stomach twisted on his behalf. She knew how much he loved that suit; he was so forking vain, after all. But then again, is it vanity if it’s not really his body? He just wishes it was.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Michael responded, quietly.

“Then prove it, dude! Take it off! Strip! Todd goes streaking every night.” Gunner encouraged.

“You know I can’t! It’s not the same for me.”

“Maybe I’ll take mine off tonight. Imagine how much Mendoza will freak out when he sees a giant acid snake coming for him after too many mushrooms!” Vicky joked; “It’s still ten times better than any torture method you’ve come up with for them, Mike. Maybe melting their brains by revealing your demon form will provide us some results.”

Is it really that bad? Eleanor was naively hoping there was some sexy bald goat-man underneath that suit. Dude was so shifty about it, like he didn’t wanna spoil the mystery. Was it more than that? Was he ashamed?

“You’ve all made your point, have your Purge and I’ll clean up the mess tomorrow. Just go easy on the humans - I insist.” Michael sounded so tired.

“Oh he ‘insists’!? Did you hear that guys? Mikey, who failed his own experiment over eight hundred times, wants to ‘insist’!” Vicky sneers.

“Well I insist that he shuts his fugly food hole and leave the masters to our job!” Petra cackled; “And he gets back to trying to fork his paperclips or whatever shirt you get up to here.”

That sounded painful, Eleanor couldn’t stop herself picturing it.

“Jeez, Mike, you always were a loser but there’s really no hope for you, is there. Before you were just the quiet nerd no one wanted to hang out with because of your weird fixation with Earth-people. Soon you’re gonna be known as the idiot who failed his first experiment; even if the rest of us do manage to salvage it for Shawn, we’ll all know the truth about how badly you suuucked!”

It took all of Eleanor’s strength not to shove the panel open, stomp over and grab Vicky’s hair to slam her face into the desk. They all just followed him in there to bully him?! They were the losers.

“C’mon, guys! We should have known he wouldn’t have wanted to join our party, it’s not like he’s used to being invited to any.” Bambadjan added, inciting more giggles.

“See you in the morning, dumb-ash. Be up bright and early to clean up our shirt, as you say, chop chop!”

Counting to ten to contain her rage luckily meets up with the sound of the door closing, the demons exiting the building.

She carefully opens the secret door, seeing Michael sat in his chair, hands folded on his lap, eyes cast down. When he hears her soft footsteps, his head turns, expression shifting to try to cover the wobbling lip she’d briefly caught sight of. He sniffs and rubs his upper lip with his hand.

“Eleanor!” Michael straightens up; “Were you there the whole time? What if they’d seen you or...sensed you were there?”

“Relax, man, they didn’t see shirt, it’s cool.” She puts her hand up; “...You okay?”

He looks to the side, forcing his ‘superior’ smirk, “Uhh, yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? Just...having a bit of workplace banter, as they say.”

“Didn’t sound like ‘banter’ to me, dude.” She edges closer, slowly, knowing that if he’s as much like her as she knows, he’s gonna be like a wounded tiger right now.

Getting too close, too quick, is gonna get her eyes clawed out. She would know, she’s swung a few claws herself.

Michael sniffs, struggling to keep his mask on; “M’fine, Eleanor, really. You better go prepare for this Purge or whatever they were talking about, go enjoy yourself or...make sure the others are safe-.”

His words are cut off by her weight falling down onto his lap, arms looping around his neck as she embraces him. Fork it. Screw being slow and steady; the demon was about ready to cry.

“Wha....What are you doing?” Michael stutters, stiffening.

“Hugging you, idiot...Sorry, I mean that affectionately,” She says against his ear.

“W-why?”

She shrugs, still hugging him tight, shuffling on his knees; “’Cause you need it. ‘Cause it’s the quickest way to let you know that all those things those demons said was garbage. Fork, have they always talked to you like that?”

His silence answers her question.

She squeezes him again; “Damn, no wonder you’re as new to this whole friend thing as me.”

“Demons insult each other all the time, Eleanor, it’s how we compliment each other. We’re meant to enjoy it.”

That made zero sense.

“But you don’t....do you?”

Michael breaths in deep against her. Then she shakes her head, leaning into her shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause I’m a freak...I’m wrong, just like they say...like Shawn says...I’m just a failure of a demon.”

“That’s a good thing in my books, man.” Eleanor pulls back, looking at him, admiringly; “You might be failing as a demon but, I have it on good authority, you are rocking it as a newbie human. And I know you think we’re all gross and stupid but...I know you love us.”

He wrinkles his nose, trying to look as though he denied it, yet refusing to. His eyes gaze into hers, a rush of color brightening his cheeks.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to say it, I know you’re not quite ready there yet.” She knows herself how difficult it is to say those three words, to anyone; “But we’re your friends. We want you on our team, Michael, not just ‘cause it stops you torturing us but...Because you’re a cool guy to be around, when you’re not giving paperclip showers or putting us in purple space bubbles.”

A smile threatened to crack on Michael’s face as he squirmed beneath her. Was it really this easy to make an all-powerful being look so shy and bashful? It was adorable.

She moves her hand up to his cheek, thumb stroking below his eye, reddened with unshed tears.

“Also...I feel kinda obliged to confess something.” She says, “This skin-suit? Your skin-suit? What Vicky said was bull-shirt. All of it. Not only is this suit as much you as whatever demony essence you got going on underneath...But it’s also not bad looking either. I might even go as far to say ‘handsome’. In like a Richard Gere in Pretty Woman way.”

“R-really?” He looks hopeful for a second; “I mean...I know it’s gorgeous, but I wouldn’t expect...I mean I wouldn’t want you - or any human - to ever wanna-.”

She cuts his babbling off again with a kiss on the cheek.

He’s frozen now.

Eleanor grins; “That prove it for you? You know me, I don’t give out pity kisses.”

Michael squirmed again, biting his lip, mumbling something which might have been ‘gross’ or ‘weird food holes’, but he doesn’t move his hands away from where they’ve found the small of her back.

“Hey...how about we do one quick bit of karaoke before we go brief the others on tonight. You can pick the song.” She says, giving his bow-tie the smallest tug.

He smiles, touched, then nods; “Sounds good...”

“Cool. Also, don’t open that drawer on your desk until you’ve properly cheered up - I rigged it with a pie to get thrown in your face as revenge for cheating off my paper earlier!”

“Oh, pies are the best prank! I wish you hadn’t told me now, you’ve spoiled the surprise.”

Eleanor giggles as she takes his hand, leading him to his bud-hole; “You know me, demon buddy. I’m always full of surprises.”

His fingers squeezed hers; “That you are.”

#hellstrop minific #michael x eleanor #fluff #emotional hurt/comfort

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pagingevilspawn · 4 years ago

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You Said You’d Grow Old With Me

again, another one-shot that i never posted on tumblr, only the link, so yeah! im also pretty sure this fic makes no sense, but my 4 am brain wrote it so...

____

"thought we had the time, had our lives, now you'll never get older, older"

~*~

TW// major character death

takes place some time after 16x15, before 16x16.

____

Jo was laying in her bed. Their bed. The bed that felt too cold. The bed that felt too empty. The bed that felt too big. After crying she felt better, having Link comfort her while she broke down. She wanted him back. She wanted him to answer her calls. She needed to know if he was okay. If he left her like she thought he did she at least needed to know if he was okay. One call. One text. Thats all she was asking for.

Except she wouldn't be satisfied with that. The five different positive pregnancy tests to the side of her were an example. She was pregnant. They were pregnant. How the hell did that happen? She was just pranking him about having a baby a two months ago, and now she really was going to have one? And at the best of times too. Right when her husband decides to go MIA.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there for, staring blankly into the distance, her body incapable of feeling anything. Numb. Thats how she felt. She felt like she was bathing in a tub of ice and all her sense and nerves had just shut down. Numb.

She'd only been numb once before, after seeing Paul for the first time in five years. Bu this was worse, oh this was so much worse. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. She couldn't talk. She couldn't do anything, she was just numb.

She wishes she could say she was startled by the sound of knocking her door, but she wasn't. She'd gotten used to Meredith and Link coming over at random hours of the day. Sometimes to rant about anything, or sometimes to just talk with her.

Maybe it's Alex, she thinks, and with that thought she gets up from the too big bed and makes her way to the loft's wooden door.

Please be you please be you.

The door opens and the sight she sees is one she wishes she didn't.

In one second she knew that her whole world was about to crumble under her feet. Oh god, how badly she wished she stayed in bed, how badly she wished she was at the hospital.

"Ma'am is this the home of Alexander Karev?" the officer asks, looking up from his notepad, his partner standing next to him dutifully.

Jo gulps visibly, already feeling the tears burning in her eyes. "Y-yes, he's my husband, i'm his wife."

The two officer share a sympathetic glance. "We're afraid there's been an accident.

____

After a short phone call with Meredith and one plane ride to some place in Oregon, Jo is standing outside some hospital she's never heard of, Meredith right by her side, holding her hand so tightly, like it was a life-line. Because it was. They knew nothing. All they knew was that Alex was involved in a ca accident that involved a drunk driver, and they hadn't been able to identify him for the past two weeks. They didn't know anything. Was he alive? Was he dead? Had they simply only contacted her so they would know what to do with his body? Was he seriously just okay and he was in a medically induced coma? Did he have amnesia? Did he not remember who he was?

For two weeks her husband had been just another John Doe. One that they see in the pit nearly every day.

He wasn't Doctor Alex. He was even a doctor. He wasn't her husband. He wasn't a best friend, a companion, a lover. He wasn't a surgeon who saved the lives of tiny humans. He wasn't a guy who made little kids less scared of the hospital. He was just another meaningless John Doe, taking up space in the ICU.

But oh, she felt guilty. So guilty. She was worried that he was having some kind of secret affair while he was really just in the hospital.

Meredith squeezes her hand, "You ready?" she croaks out, her red rimmed eyes string up at the hospital in front of her. Meredith wasn't ready. She wasn't ready for what stood behind those doors. She wasn't ready.

"No." Jo shakes her head, a few stray tears already coming down her cheek. She hadn't gotten them to stop. She physically couldn't get them to stop. Ever since those six dreadful words came out of the officer mouth.

Meredith sighs in understanding, "I know." she says, stepping forward and taking the first steps, Jo following behind her robotically.

No, not robotically. Numbly.

How naive she was, thinking that what she felt earlier was numbness, this was a whole new level. This was paralyzing. This was frightening. This was feeling her body start to disintegrate piece by piece.

Without knowing it she was standing on the sixth floor, the ICU. Meredith leans over the nurses station, asking for the room number for Alex Karev.

Jo doesn't see the sad, sympathetic smile the nurse gives the two, but Meredith does. And that's when she knew that things weren't going to be alright. Nothing was going to be bright and shiny and happy with unicorns and rainbows.

Somehow, they end up on the other side of the Alex's room, but Jo had yet to look up from her gaze on the floor. She's never noticed how white the linoleum of hospital floor were. They were shiny too. So shiny that she could see her reflection.

It was when Meredith lets out a soft sob that she finally decides to look up, not at all prepared for the sight in front of her.

The sight of her husband, the love of her life, lying in a bed, tubes sticking out of every possible place in his body.

It was then she felt her whole world crash down. Crash down and burn. A gut wrenching sob escapes her throat, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as the tears come down her face. They come down so fast she cant even wipe them away until her face is soaked again.

"Mer I-i," she chokes out, feeling her breathing start to pick up as she tries and fails to form her words.

Meredith nods, "Go in." she whispers brokenly, watching as a doctor makes his way towards.

The doctor holds out his palm to the blonde, "Hi i'm Doctor Kelsey, i'm the neurosurgeon on Mr. Karev's case-"

"It's doctor." she interrupts him. "Doctor Karev. Doctor Alex Karev." she says slowly.

The man nods, "Okay, Dr. Karev has been here for fifteen days now. There was an MVC on the 45 with a drunk driver and he ended up getting very severely injured-"

She cuts him off again, "I'm sorry, let me introduce myself. I'm Dr. Meredith Grey."

She watches as the man's eyes widen in surprise. He was standing in front of Meredith Grey? The Meredith Grey? Catherine Fox Award Meredith Grey? Daughter of two time Catherine Fox recipient Ellis Grey?

"W-wow. I-its an honor to meet you Doctor Grey, i'm a big fan." he says, smiling brightly.

Meredith jolts back in shock, eyes narrowing at the man who was about ten years older than her. "It's an honor to meet me?" she hisses, watching as the fellow surgeon's smile falls as quickly as it appeared.

"I-its an honor to meet me? That's what you have to say? You have the audacity to say that, as i stand here, outside of the room of my best friend, who is alive because of tubes and vents? It's an honor to meet me, when the only reason i'm here if because my best friend, my person, is lying there, unable to move or breathe, or talk? It's an honor to meet me?" Meredith yells , tears escaping her eyes, earning the attention from the others in the ICU, but she didn't care.

The man nods furiously, "O-of course, i'm so sorry Doctor Grey, that was very disrespectful of me." he says, going on to explain the extent of Alex's injuries.

___

Jo stumbles into the room lifelessly, seeing the unmoving body of her husband lying on the bed.

The sight causes a whole new round of tears to spring into her eyes and down her cheeks, "Oh Alex," she chokes out, grabbing ahold of his left hand, clasping it firmly in her palm.

it was cold. Way too cold. Normally his hands were warm. Not sweaty or clammy, they were just warm and soothing, perfect for her's to slip into at any time of the day.

She feels the cold band of his wedding ring touch her fingers and that's when she lets the sobs take over.

The gut wrenching, heart breaking, deep sobs as she collapses on the side of his bed and onto her knees, completely ignoring the chair next to her.

She couldn't hold herself up. its like her legs could not longer support her, like they had turned into helpless piles of water, "Alex please." she begs, lips trembling as she places kiss over kiss on his hand.

She wasn't stupid, she was a doctor. She knew what all the tuning and the wires and the ventilators meant.

"Please tell me this is just some joke. Some really mean, really awful joke. Please Alex. Please." she cries.

"Please tell me this is just a nightmare, an awful, awful nightmare. Please tell me this isn't real Alex. Please." she begs, holding his hand so tight as her body shakes with sobs.

She shakes her head, laughing softly at first, then louder and louder, "Oh god." she sobs, her laughter coming to a halt. "This is real." she whispers, feeling as her tears drop from her eyes to the floor.

"No Alex. you don't get to die on me alright? Because, because i cant live without you okay? You-you need to know that. If you, if you die, i die." she says, taking both of her palms and clasping her tiny hands around his big one.

She shakes her head, "No Alex. You don't get to do this to me. You don't get to leave me. We-we meed to grow old a and grey, and we need to have kids. So many kids. We need to have at least three kids. We need to get a dog a-and travel the world. We still need to do that Alex."

Jo sniffles, "But it's not only you that needs me Alex, this baby needs you too." she sobs, standing up and sitting down on the bed, taking Alex's hand and placing it over her stomach, hoping that this would be enough. That this would be enough for him to wake up, to defy all medical standards and wake the hell up.

"Please Alex, this baby needs you." Jo sobs, "Because, i sure as hell can't do this without you. Y-you're the peds surgeon Alex, you were practically born to be a dad." she wipes her tears to no avail, since they just kept coming. "You need to hold this baby in your arms, you need to be there with me to tell them about how we had sex in a shed next to a corpse on our wedding on their wedding day. You-you need to see them grow up and graduate Alex."

"Y-you need to be there Alex. I need you, Mer needs. Zola and Bailey and Ellis, they need you. The tiny children that you save all the time need you. They need Doctor Alex. I need Doctor Alex."

"I-i need you to get so overprotective if it's a girl when she has her first boyfriend. I need to watch you teach our baby how to wrestle if he's a boy. Or a girl, i'm not judging." she chuckles soft'y, holding his palm against her still flat abdomen.

She lays down beside him, laying there in silence for a long time. She lets the thoughts roam in her mind.

Jo sighs, "I hated you at first." she starts, absentmindedly threading her fingers though his hair like she had done so many time before. 'Like seriously, you were one of the biggest assholes I ever met." she chuckles softly.

"And then there was the teen mom who was just going to abandon her baby that i went al crazy on, rightfully so by the way." she smiles slightly, knowing that if he could somehow hear her he was probably rolling his eyes. "And then suddenly, i told you my whole life story, just like that. I'd never done that with anyone before." she sighs, glancing back down to her stomach, where she had her hand clasped in his in a hold over her stomach. "I'd never opened up to someone so easily before. It was like... my heart knew I could trust you before any other part of me could."

"I know i know, you're laughing at me. I sound like something out of a cheesy lifetime movie." she smiles softly. "And then came Ben and Bailey's wedding, and then, before i knew it, you were my best friend."

She starts to trace his fingers, something she always did to calm her down, "And then, one day, i was drinking a beer at Joe's with Jason, and all i could think was that i would rather be with you, on the couch that I bought, and watching action movies with you. That's when i realized i was i love with you." she whispers, some new tears building in her eyes.

"And then we wen through crap. So much crap Alex. That's why this can't be the end. Thats why this can't be the end of us okay? Because we've been through too much crap to let a drunk driver end us."

"Please Alex, i'm begging you, come back." she sobs, starting to pound her fists on his chest.

"Come back! Come back you son of a bitch! Come back!" Jo cries, unable to atop the steady flow of water coming down her face.

"Please Alex." Jo begs, her eyes so red and puffy that they looked like she had been crying for years. "You-you have my whole heart Alex. And i-if you die, you will crush it, and I wont make it. I cant live without you okay? You hear me? I need you Alex. I- i cant breathe. I cant breathe, ii cant exist in a world without you in it, okay?" she sobs, hyperventilating as she trues to get her words out, which only came out in barely audible sobs.

Somewhere along the way she cries herself to sleep, waking up a nearly a whole day later to a view of Meredith, Amelia, Tom, Jackson, Arizona, Callie, Link, Cristina, Bailey, and Richard standing outside the ICU.

And for one second, before she opens her eyes, she forgets everything, simply snuggling into the body and the scent she missed so much, a combination of aftershave and spearmint.

And then she remembers.

And oh god, she just wants to die.

She feels like a knife is being driven through her heart, stabbing her again and again and again, with absolutely no intention to stop.

Eventually Meredith breaks her out of her trance by knocking on the door, in which Jo responds by a head nod, letting her know that it was okay to come in.

The blonde enters, flowed by Amelia and Tom. "I called them. I wanted them here to consult, look at all his scans, everything." Meredith mutters, her voice hoarse and broken from trying to hold in her tears.

Jo looks up at the two, a small glimmer of hope shining in her eyes, "P-please." she stutters out, her voice high pitched and squeaky, sounding more broken than they'd ever heard her before, "tell me you guys can do something."

Amelia takes a deep breath, letting a few drops of water pool in her eyes, "Jo-"

"No," she sobs, shaking her head. "It took me twenty-seven years to find him, longer to realize i loved him, and even longer to be able to marry him." she starts to shake, trying to take in every detail of his face.

His overgrown stubble.

The soft creases around his eyes.

The slight wrinkles etched into his forehead.

"Jo, we can't bring him back. I'm so sorry." Tom says, trying to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, which she shakes off.

She slowly nods, unconsciously mumbling something about how she was going to let everyone say their goodbyes before she said hers.

So thats what she did. One by one the said their tearful, heartbroken goodbyes, still i denial that the man they loved would soon be gone.

Jo goes in one last time, lying down next to him, holding his figure in her arms. "I love you." she sobs.

"I haven't said that enough. I love you Alex. God, I love you so much jerkface. I didn't know it was possible to love someone as much as i love you." she cried, her tears an endless flow into a river. "I love you, i love you, i love you."

"And, please, please love me enough to come back." she begs him, still holding onto that tiny bit of hope.

"You said we'd be together forever Alex. You and me. Please, please let there be forever." she pleads with him one last time, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek.

With one deep breath she gives a nod to the nurse, who slowly begins to remove the ventilator. Then she unplugs him from all the machine.

She lays her head on his heart, feeling as he breathes one last time under her.

And then, she places a kiss on his lips, one last time

and all of a sudden,

he was gone.

"we had plans, we had visions, now i cant see ahead. We were one, were golden, forever you said."

"didn't say goodbye now I'm frozen in time getting colder, colder. "

"One last word. One last moment. To ask you why, you left me here behind."

"You said you'd grow old with me."

#jolex #jolex fic #jolexau #ignoring canon #jolex fanfic #jolex fanfiction #alex karev #jo wilson #jo karev #greysanatomy #greys anatomy #greys abc #meredith grey #major character death #based on a song

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thesugarace · 4 years ago

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Alright

I finished HLITF season 1 for Kaga and I SWEAR TO ALL 12 ZODIAC GODS

VOLTAGE. PEAKED!!!! AT KAGA’S SEQUEL

THIS STORY IS AN ABSOLUTE

(Early warning: minor/major spoilers and a lot of rants/fangirling/thirst etc etc all bec I just absolutely love this story and I feel the need to share this love with everyone. Also, I keep seeing everyone hating on MC in this but I actually really liked her here and so I MUST defend her)

Okay

First of all look. loOK. LOOK AT THESE CGS!!!!

CAN YOU BELIEVE WE GET A HOT AND SEXY KAGA CG, A LITERALLY STEAMY ROMANTIC CG AND A BOMB AF STORY ALL FOR $3 EYE-

And oh my huedhaut dont even get me started on the story. It was absolutely on point. It has everything a HLITF story promises to have:

justice in the eyes of our straightlaced MC vs the PSD ✔️

Conflict btwn Kaga and MC precisely because of that ✔️

Our girl pulling a vanishing act bec she refused to compromise her values ✔️

the refusal of each side to back down and their love for each other TEARING THEM APART INSIDE ✔️

OUR GIRL SHOWING OFF HOW INSIGHTFUL SHE REALLY IS AND FINDING A SOLID AF LEAD ✔️

MC’S GROWTH in finding a somewhat compromise between her principles and what is required of her as a PSD detective ✔️

And of course, my absolute favourite: ANGSTY ANGSTY MY-WORLD-IS-ENDING-BECAUSE-MY-MC-IS-IN-DANGER-ANGSTY KAGA ✔️

Okay, I need to address the one thing that everyone just hates about this story en masse and it’s MC. Personally, I dont agree with her about the some parts, especially the interrogation because she did hinder an investigation and in law enforcement that is one big No-No but I do see where she’s coming from, especially with the surveillance thing and the whole copping out and literally running away to the countryside. I saw reviews abt her being completely naive but seriously, put yourself in the position of the one being spied. She’s so against it because to the suspect, what they’re doing could be harmful to him, especially so if he was innocent. I think as a person, she believes in the more publically-accepted justice - the kind of justice that everyone wants but is really very difficult to obtain.

And this is where we get to the beauty of this story. As per their MO, the PSD is ready to do whatever it takes to get the culprit even it means breaking the law. They’re desperate to get the culprit because people are actually getting hurt and the longer this guy gives them the slip, the more people are going to get hurt. Even in MSB, its been established that to the PSD, the end ALWAYS justify the means and they dont give a shit if they look like criminals for it. So this is where the conflict arises between MC and the PSD guys. For the PSD, there’s an opportunity where they might get the culprit but its illegal and for MC, what the PSD wants to do is too risky for something only based on suspicion; she wants to stay on the legal path but she has no lead whatsoever and time is not on either side. People dont seem to realise the weight of MC’s viewpoint and have a tendency to think of ‘officers doing something illegal’ as something as light as jaywalking or smt. No, these institutions have a wide reach and one misstep could bring harmful repercussions onto countless innocent people not to mention the implications of their actions on their integrity as an institution of the law and the integrity of the entire justice system. However, the PSD’s side is a lot more true to reality albeit in more complex situations: their duty beyond all else is to prevent crime and there are times when there really seems to be no way. I’ve been working in law for the past few years and this is a classic dilemma that has been simplified but quite well executed in this context. Justice is not as clear cut as the right way, the right end. The law may simply be black words on white paper but different circumstances dye it with their own colours. This is where MC is lacking. She’s like a freshman at law school - someone who truly believes in the importance of justice but actually has little idea what that actually entails. She is not entirely naive but more in a sense that she’s never been confronted with these kind of complex high-stakes situations (she worked in a police box before this for Ichthys’s sake) and that inexperience disables her from seeing and evaluating the entire situation from the PSD’s pov. For her, its like playing poker for the first time and she’s already betting with the million dollar chips.

The second thing I REALLY must defend her in is the whole quitting from the academy. For the love of Zyglavis, she did NOT run away just because Kaga told her she’s not suited for PSD, it was just the trigger. Lemme put it in a different scenario (btw this scenario is not meant to mirror the situation, its only meant to evoke how MC felt in the story) Imagine you live in a city and you and your significant other are living together. A pandemic has struck your city but everyone refuses to wear a mask and the government is even encouraging people not to wear a mask. You know that wearing a mask slows down the spread of the virus and you are trying to convince people to wear one but they just ignore you. The number of cases is dropping and people think its because they dont wear masks unlike other cities but you know that people should still wear masks or the numbers might spike. So you try to convince everyone to wear a mask and people start berating you for being so stupid as to believe that masks will slow down the spread of the virus when the numbers are dropping without the city wearing them. You go home and your significant other berates you for forcing other people to wear a mask and says ‘since you wanna wear a mask so badly, get out of my house and move out of town’ That’s what it felt like for MC: the absolute frustration + sadness from the rejection of what she truly believes in by the people she’s surrounded by. Time and time again in the story, she’s confronted with the fact that the justice she believes in is not the justice PSD serves. For someone who is working towards joining the PSD, that has to be killing her inside every time. It just serves as a reminder that she is not suited for PSD nor is she what PSD wants in a detective, something she has been struggling with since MS1 but she perseveres perhaps because of her dream to become a detective or because of her aspirations to someday be Kaga’s equal or at least be someone he considers he can rely on. I really believe it’s the second one, after all, it was his rejection of her that really broke her inside and finally convinced her to quit. That’s why if you buy the ending set, you’ll see in the extra stories that Kaga gets extremely angry AT HIMSELF that MC quit the academy. He knows that our persistent Kappa doesnt give up so easily, not even when he scolded her for ruining his interrogation. Its because all these factors built up and he was the one to push her over her limit. So yes, our girl is not fragile yall. She’s just been through so much and I honestly dont blame her for leaving like one order of R&R for our MC here, she deserves it thanks.

Okay, I need to end this soon cause its starting to get too long but what made me really love her here is the whole LIME thing. That part made love her so much because even when she quit on the academy, there’s still a fire inside her to do what it takes to achieve justice, even if it meant relying on the people she didnt agree with. Even when she was so broken inside believing that she’s not one of them, she’s not needed by them, she’s not worthy of helping them; she just wants to help!

IM SO FREAKING SOFT FOR HER BECAUSE THIS GIRL WHO HAS BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH IS STILL FIGHTING IN HER OWN WAY AND JKASHFHASKJHAKSHKJHGA BRB CRYING

ALSO

THAT BLOODY PHONE CALL OH MY FREAKING SCORPIO THAT PHONE CALL. I died when he told her that quitting is not an excuse to leave his side. THESE TWO EYE-

Okay, you have to read that phone call scene from both sides because then you’ll see how much these two are being stubborn because they still dont accept the other’s pov abt the case but at the same time how much they love and miss each other is gnawing at them inside AND THEYRE STRUGGLING TO HOLD ALL THOSE EMOTIONS BACK WHEN THEY HEAR EACH OTHERS’ VOICES OVER THE PHONE FREAKING KRIOFF TAKE THE WHEEL PLEASE

Anyways, I really enjoyed reading season 1 for Kaga, especially because of his MC - I see her actually growing from the small police box officer to a PSD cadet and the sequel, especially, shows promise in how she’s going to navigate the world of law enforcement and facing difficult choices. Our girl really decided to return to the academy without finding a proper middle ground between her values and what PSD requires of her but she showed determination to work on it so I really hope we get to see more of that in later seasons. Also, WHIPPED Kaga is my fav but soft Kaga is up there as well. MC SAYING HE SOUNDED SAD OVER THE PHONE AND HER TEARING UP I CANT. THESE TWO ARE BAD FOR MY HEART.

Okay, Im not sure what I’ll be reading next. I kinda wanna start on his season 2 but considering how amazing this season is for Kaga, Im really curious abt the other characters so I might start on them before starting any season 2s. Also, idk if I would make these long argumentative-ish essays a thing but just idk why, my brain is really good at spewing essays out when it comes to HLITF and I think its fuelled by the panic from all my unfinished work so yay

Thanks for reading!!!

#rediscovering hlitf #HLITF #Hyogo Kaga #seiji goto #hideki ishigami #ayumu shinonome #shusuke soma #her love in the force #voltage inc.#otome #voltage otome #voltage romance sims #voltage guys

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cloudynames · 6 years ago

Text

Locker Rooms

hello everyone!! how are you all doing?? im so glad to be updating after such a stressful week aha~ i hope i can get out another update quicker than this one. thank you all for waiting. this is my very very late present since it was johnny birthday a few days ago!! johnctzens how yall feelin?? hehe

Word Count: 6,492

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Swearing

lets get it

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N City High, one of the most respectable schools in all of Seoul, was adorned in the middle of the bustling city. With daughters and sons of millionaires attending the pristine, three story building, all eyes from every social media outlet were focused on the high school. The most brilliant and athletic prodigies were born from this school, some people even being scouted for colleges before eleventh grade. To attend this school meant your future was secured. Everyone was rich and fell on different ends of the spectrum. Either people cared way too much or didn’t give a shit. Of course, why worry during in school when you’ll inherit your father’s business?

Unlike your counterparts, you cared about the mark you would leave upon the school. Perhaps you cared a bit too much. A bit detrimental to your health even. Your grades were spectacular, a child genius. However, with one blessing means one affliction.

You were dirt poor.

Yes, you were the poor kid at school and were the highlight of whispers. Tattered uniform and scuffed shoes screamed that you weren’t wealthy. People didn’t outwardly mock you but boy, did they stare. You could guess that you weren’t going to inherit your father’s business due to the fact that there was no business.

The principal noticed this with the unpaid bills and your parents rejecting each call from the security. He didn’t think you would become a problem child but as you didn’t turn in any checks to the front office, he become a bit troubled. With a bit of of devising, he formulated a plan to be replenished from all the missing dollars.

One rainy afternoon, a messenger knocked on the doorframe of your boisterous classroom, everyone watching as she handed the note to your teacher.

“(Y/N)! Main office, please.” Your teacher commanded without a second though, returning to play games on his laptop.

Dragging yourself up from your seat and making your way down to the front office, your mind scrambled for anything that could’ve happened. If they tell you one more time that you haven’t been paying the tuition, you were going to be pissed. It wasn’t news that you were struggling with tuition but the staff needed to bring that up to your parents, not yourself, a child. Hopefully they wouldn’t punish you like last time when they locked up your grades from being viewed and you had no clue as to what your grade was in each class. That would truly fuck up both your parents and yourself.

Plastering a fake smile on your face, you buzzed the front office to let your principal know you were waiting. A click sounds and the huge, wooden doors swing open.

“Hi, Mr. Kim.” You say sweetly, taking the seat with the least amount of rips from aggravated students beforehand. “What can I do for you?”

“Hello, (y/n)! I’m so glad you could come down right away. Let’s get straight down to business. Your tuition—“

Here we go.

Ears burning red, you glare into his eyes and reply in a snobby voice, “I cannot do anything about the tuition. I am a child who does not pay the bill. Please email or call my parents.” You’ve been preparing this response since you were called to the voice.

He returns the scowl with the same icy tone as yours. “Well, maybe if your parents would pick up the damn phone for once. Then, maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation?”

Your hands gripped onto the chair handles tightly, knuckles turning white. How dare he offend your parents? This was escalating rapidly and you weren’t sure if you were going to leave the room still attending N City High.

“So what’s the point in requesting my presence? To mock me?” You bite back. There was no way you were going down without a fight. You’re not all bark.

His expression softens and he places a hand on his table, trying to give himself a calmer appearance. Having been in here so many times, by the furrow of his eyebrows showed his true emotions. He was furious.

“I have a compromise. We want to raise more school spirit and want a bigger crowd showing up at sporting events. The committee and I thought the best option would be a mascot. We would take off a large chunk of your tuition if you would accept this offer.”

Was he a fool? Sacrifice your integrity for a few dollars off of your tuition? Naive and stupid was this man. On the other hand, a few dollars off would make a grand difference to your family. Maybe your parents wouldn’t have to work overtime so often…

“How much is ‘a large chunk’?” If you play your cards right, you might be able to bargain off a larger amount. It was a dangerous game but a risk worth taking.

He rubs the back of his neck, not expecting this question. A pauses for a second then resumes, “All of it.”

Sacrificing your integrity was worth it.

Thus, you became the mascot for the school. Practice wasn’t surprisingly difficult. Working with the gymnastics coach soon got you to be pretty flexible and cheerful, even without showing your face to the crowd.

The mascot was an ugly, green monster looking-parrot. Being the first ever mascot of N City High meant it had only been used by you and you only, but it got disgusting real fast. Inside of the costume felt like it was a desert and you wouldn’t dare to take off the head during a game so instead you suffered immensely. From all the games built up, it soon smelled like sweat and a bad perfume you tried to use to mask the musk. Dreadful was the most appropriate word to describe your feelings but it was all to help your parents in the end.

Not exactly a perfect high school fairytale, huh? With grades and an abundant amount of time dedicated to cheering at sporting events, life became a drag and tiresome.

High school would be hell if it weren’t for Seo Johnny, a sweet, brown-eyed boy who was about as tall as a cyclops. He was the only thing you enjoyed about the hellhole. If he didn’t talk to you that day on a dare, who knows where either of you would be?

One afternoon during break during ninth year, a boy walked over to you and slammed a chocolate milk on your desk. Dazed, you looked up and saw Johnny glancing down at you, clearly embarrassed. Slowly, you grab the milk and puncturing a hole at the top, you ask, “Why did you give me a chocolate milk?”

He stares at you for for a few seconds and then whips his head around to the door. A group of boys were gathered, giggling and cracking jokes at seeing Johnny be so nervous. He glares daggers at them, making the group hide once more behind the wall. Sighing, he sits in the desk in front of you.

“My friends wanted me to talk to a girl on a dare. I’m sorry but I hope you take the chocolate milk as compensation. It’s really stupid, I know.” He confesses, playing with the ends of his blazer. Now that he’s up close, you notice more of his features. His hair was a deep, brown color but you could tell by scanning the roots that it was dyed. Johnny was the student who was always making jokes during class and him being so awkward had you giggling under your breath.

He raises his eyebrow, perplexed. Had he done something unintentionally funny?

“Well, I won’t take it as an insult since I know you’re a friendly guy. Just letting you know, I like strawberry milk better than chocolate.”

Once the next day rolled over, a strawberry milk was placed on your desk and from that moment, Johnny and you had been inseparable. History had been made and the future shined bright for the both of you.

You witnessed Johnny through all his trials in life. Dreadfully, you were there when he got his first girlfriend and comforted him throughout the night when she broke up with him. When Johnny had his first alcoholic drink ever, you drove him home while he threw up in your car. Cleaning up the mess was not how you wanted to spend your Friday night but since it was for Johnny, it had been worth it.

Flash forward to present time, you listened to Johnny whine while shoving the school’s newspaper in your face.

“(Y/N)! I’m just so curious. Who do you think they are?”

Rolling your eyes, you played with your pen, dissembling it and then fixing it. A downfall to being Johnny’s favorite friend was that you were the one taking the brunt force of his unhealthy obsession with the mascot. Johnny would spend more time creating theories for the mascot rather than study, much to your dismay. But, you didn’t mind too much. The way his eyes lit up while talking about something he liked ignited a flame of passion in your stomach. You would never tell him, but Johnny is really cute.

“Johnny, I really don’t know and I can’t force myself to care about.”

He pouts and huffs dramatically, wishing to receive a different answer from you. “Well, I think it’s Lucas. That kid has so much energy so embodying the mascot would fit him!”

Laughing nervously, you reply, “Have you seen how tall Lucas is? Definitely not. Our mascot is shorter.”

He smirks and teases lightly, “Oh, so now you want to contribute to the conversation?”

“Theory-crafting, actually. A conversation has more meat to it.” You fire back, pointing the pen at Johnny.

Johnny sighs, a sign of him giving up. “Hey, are you gonna go to the first volleyball game? I’ll be playing!”

You shoot him a sad grin and lie through your teeth, “I’m sorry, you know I need to study. And you know how strict my parents are.”

As a matter of fact, you needed to be at their first game tonight. The latter, however, was a lie. It was rare if you could catch any game without being in that stupid costume. Johnny would have to choke it out of you for a confession about your double identity. Seeing Johnny’s sorrowful expression, however, rips apart your heart. It sucked. You never had time off from being the mascot and never have time to cheer on Johnny as yourself, not the mascot.

“You never even study though!” He complains, flailing his hands and legs around dangerously. Johnny seriously has to consider how big he is in retrospect of the world. He might hit you one of these days and he would have to experience true pain from you.

“Oh yeah? Who set up the principle foundation of atoms in Ancient Greek?”

Johnny remains silent until he finally answers, “Hades?”

“Oh my god.” You mutter, rubbing your temples. “You’re mixing up physics and literature!”

Johnny laughs and soon has you laughing as well.

As long as Johnny never finds out your dirty, this friendship will last even with all the tribulations.

Later that night, you hyped yourself up behind the bleachers while avoiding the moldy food and pair of panties the janitor hasn’t cleaned up yet. Despite cheering for three years, every game worried you. People paid attention, too much attention, to you. It’ll be plastered all over social media if it seemed like everyone’s favorite, lovable mascot was feeling less energetic than usual. Anything could happen, even if you’re one of the best schools. A reverse sweep might ensure and you’ll need to be ready to boost the crowd’s morality. To be prepared for anything gives your school the upperhand. Keeping a steady flow of your tuition being paid was also a plus.

The obnoxious buzzer rings and you take one final, deep breath before running onto the court. You waved wildly at your school’s crowd, sending kisses and hearts to everyone. A few of the girls mocked you, fanning themselves off. You shrugged off the mockery, not insulted at all. As long as they were enjoying the show then they’ll be cheering the entire night. Getting into position, you started your signature dance. Rallies grew in volume as you ended perfectly and skipped back to the sidelines, watching the volleyball game start. Huffing laboriously in your suit, your eyes scanned for Johnny.

Adorned in his neon green jersey and shorts, he displayed his number to the referee. While turned around, he glanced at you, giving you a quick wink before groaning loudly. Seems like they lost the coin flip.

Still, that little shit winked at you!

The referee blows the whistle and the opposing team lobs over the volleyball, a float serve. Fortunately, your setter dives just in time to launch the ball into the air..

“Setter out!” He yells, backing away to let his team handle the ball.

Their middle back steps to the ball and numerous voices yell out different numbers. He ends up setting the ball to the middle of the net, position four. Johnny, their ace and middle blocker, starts his approach and slams the ball, a loud smack following the ball as it slammed onto the floor.

From the sidelines, you jump up and rile the crowd. If Johnny can keep this up, the team would win in no time.

The opposing team never got past ten points causing your team’s supporters to mock and provoke their supporters. Crowd control was enforced, but nobody listened. The night ended in a victory, everyone rushing out of the bleachers to fire up the volleyball team on their first win. Silently, you snuck out and made your way to the locker room.

Locking the room behind you, you removed yourself from the suit. Sweat stuck to your skin as you gazed at your reflection. Another mindless, boring night. At least Johnny was entrilled about their first win. Whenever you saw his delighted face, it seemed like you could breathe a little easier and could keep cheering for a while longer, even if it tired you out greatly.

Slipping on your casual clothes, you escaped through the back and drove home, never thinking about the game.

If only you could support Johnny in public, you wishfully thought. It would help your situation immensely. You would shower him in heartfelt compliments, praising him on how well he did during the game. Due to your own pride, you could never tell him. Maybe one day if you get over yourself but you didn’t feel like making yourself both the poor kid and the weirdo of the school. Especially being the best friend of one of the most popular guys at the school. You would be destroying yourself and him.

‘Sorry, Johnny.’ You think while adjusting the mirror. ‘I’ll cheer you on proudly in the future. I promise.’

Some promises were never made to be kept. Some promises are created just for the moment.

To make up for missing Johnny’s first game, you showed up to his practice the next day. There were no scheduled games you had to cheer for so everything was working out well.

For now.

Johnny kept staring at you throughout the practice, waving at you or making a fool of himself with silly faces. Giggling to yourself, you worked on some homework and studied a bit as well. Might as well get something out of this practice while waiting for Johnny to finish up.

The slam of the gym doors disturbs you, promptly shutting your book in shock. Two boys stumble in, laughing boisterously and greeting everyone on the volleyball team. Clearly this was a daily occurrence as you take notice how their coach doesn’t even move to repremiend the boys. Speaking of the boys, they head over exactly to where you were seated on the bleachers and panic builds up within you. There wasn’t anywhere to go especially since it’ll look rude if you fled the situation. You really didn’t feel like interacting with anyone though. Time to suck it up.

“Hey, (y/n)! That’s your name, right?” One of them greets, a boy with neat light-caramel hair greets.

Shyly smiling, “Yes, that’s my name. And you might be…?”

“Yuta! And this is Taeyong, we’re friends with Johnny.”

With Johnny’s name reverberating in the air, your anxiety subsides. If they’re close friends with Johnny, close enough to come to his practice, then they’re most likely decent people. Johnny wasn’t one to make terrible friends.

“Ah, that’s great!” You genuinely exclaim.

“We told Johnny we would be here to support him but honestly we’re both here for Winwin.” Yuta confesses, setting his lacrosse gear sprawled out along the bleachers. You nervously chuckled in response. Who the hell was Winwin?

“I’m only here because Winwin promised to help quiz me on World History.” Taeyong grumbled, watching the fake match intently.

Slowly, the three of you slipped into a comfortable conversation. It was relaxing and refreshing. Usually, Johnny would make conversation with you but the two boys were great fillers. They listened carefully as you told them stories and understood your humor as well. Occasionally, you threw a glance to Johnny and he caught your eye every time but quickly turning his head away every time. What got into him? Soon the practice was over and after their final cheer, Johnny ran up to you, sweatier than a sumo wrestler. His hands tried to grab you in an embrace while you squealed.

“Don’t touch me!” You yelp, running behind Taeyong. Taeyong groans as he attempts to push you towards Johnny, not willing to deal with your shenanigans.

Johnny chuckles. “Well, all three of you got pretty friendly, huh?”

Yuta strolls up to you and throws an arm around your shoulder, smirking and with a teasing tone, “Yes, we did actually. (Y/N) should just confess her undying love to me already.” At this point, Winwin also arrived to the scene, stifling a giggle behind his hand. Turns out Winwin was their setter.

You fake gag, not missing a beat when you notice how Johnny’s cheeks flare up. Either in jealousy or embarrassment, you couldn’t tell. Johnny was a master when it came to hiding his feelings.

“Well, why don’t we all go get some boba to celebrate this friendship?” Johnny says, giving a bright grin to everyone. Yuta whoops in delight while Taeyong and Winwin are already halfway out the door.

Now, this would be exciting.

A few weeks into spring had you doubled over in laughter and a constant heat left on your cheeks. Taeyong and Yuta were hilarious to say the least. Surprisingly, they weren’t snobby jerks like most the people at your school. Both of them had a heart of gold towards anyone. They helped cured that springtime sadness that came around every year due to Johnny being at practice more often. Without thinking of Johnny much, there was no room to feel blue. You occasionally missed his presence but Taeyong, Yuta, and Winwin made sure you weren’t too down.

It soon become routine that if you didn’t have to cheer that day, the three of you would head down to the gym and watch volleyball practice. Yuta and Taeyong didn’t know your secret and every time you would be questioned about why you couldn’t join them, you would shrug in response and respond with, ‘my parents don’t want me going out every day!’ They immediately shut up every time.

Today the boys were especially talkative, topics ranging from school to hobbies to love like rapidfire. Barely being able to hang onto the conversation, your mind drifted to the volleyball court. Johnny was breathing heavily, wiping away the sweat on his forehead. He glances at you and turns away, talking to a team member.

Frowning, you look down. Johnny never gapes at you and doesn’t wave immediately afterwards. Maybe you were reading too much into it, but your heart still spiderwebbed into tiny cracks. Johnny, the sweetest boy you knew, was ignoring you. The more time spent into analyzing his recent actions, the more you became worried. Johnny has been acting strangely around you recently.

During class you would slide notes to him and he would just leave them upon his desk, focused on copying the notes that had been left up previously for the past ten minutes. Johnny was anything but slow. You tried texting him later that day, the only response being left was a ‘Read at 4:57 P.M.’

Throwing your head back, you inaudibly groan. How could you be so stupid? Johnny hasn’t been himself for a while. Perhaps the title of best friend should be ripped from you since you can’t even recognize when Johnny was acting strangely. What could it be? Did someone hurt him? Was he sad? Your thoughts were slowly spiralling out of control, not realizing that practice was officially over.

“(Y/N), you good?” Johnny asks, carrying his schoolbag and his volleyball bag.

Knocked out of your haze, you nod, laughing awkwardly. When was the last time you felt awkward around Johnny?

He nods as well, halfway out the gym doors when you yell.

“Johnny! Let’s go get some ice cream. Without the boys.”

Johnny and you were close. There has never been a dull, awkward moment between the two of you. Sharing the sidewalk and quietly eating your ice cream has never made you want to crawl into a hole and die until now. Johnny barely spoke on your walk, only commenting on how he got extra sprinkles than usual. Silence suffocated the air and the smell of Johnny’s fading cologne has your chest tightening uncomfortably. Every other time you had been with Johnny, this scent has comforted you. But at this current moment, you wanted nothing more than to push him away.

“(Y/N)?” He asks, cutting the silence like a knife. “A-Ah, yeah Johnny?”

“Do you like Yuta or Taeyong?”

Your heart drops. Is this was he was so dejected over? If so, it was a foolish reason. As best friends, you made sure to tell each other everything, no matter how small. The two of you shared what you had for breakfast or the latest gossip you overheard your mom explaining so for him to accuse you of breaking such a precious promise hurt. It was childish, but it was your thing. Johnny and you both owned it. It was nobody else’s except yours. That’s what being best friends meant.

Your feet stopped and your chest filled with sick, dense, air as your teeth grit together tightly. How uncalled for.

“Really Johnny?”

His brows furrowed and he says accusingly, “What?”

You laugh mockingly, shaking your head and staring into Johnny’s brown eyes, “You really don’t know.”

With a flushed face, Johnny raises his voice. “What do you mean?”

This was an ugly site. On the sidewalk in the middle of the evening were two teenagers yelling at each other. Neither would give in and forget what had happened. If a passerby witnessed this, they probably would walk hurriedly along, not wanting to see the outcome.

“I’ve been your best friend since ninth year. I would never hide something like that!” You yell, frustrated. Johnny was an idiot at times, especially when it came to people. He could never recognize the emotions of others and how his words may possibly hurt them. Anger erupts in your chest, leaving you with hot insults dancing on your tongue. For him to think that you would betray him so easily cut you and left you with a nasty scar.

“You say that when you lie about how you always need to study and that your parents aren’t strict. I’ve met them, (y/n). They let you practically do whatever the hell you want!” He accuses, any regard for causing a public commotion vanishing.

He was right. You were lying about your situation. Why? Johnny would accept you either way, mascot or not. Is it because it’s embarrassing? A friendship built upon lies and lies? Would he stop being your friend?

Yes, that’s what scared you the most. Would Johnny, the popular, beloved Johnny, still want to be friends with the dirt poor (y/n)? Foolish was Johnny’s middle name. He would sacrifice his good name and reputation for you. You couldn’t stand to see him fall from such grace to land where you remain. Selfless, a cruel form of selfless, was your middle name.

“You know what? Forget it.”

Johnny’s sharp voice snapped you out of his trance and he turned sharply, walking away from you. His shoulders shook and his head was down. You knew he was crying. He is such a crybaby.

No tears stained your face that walk home or that night. The only stain that remained was the sticky, vanilla bean ice cream left on your hand when you crushed it out of despair.

Oh, how it resembled your heart all too well.

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“Why are you so mopey?” Yuta voices, sitting down at your desk as Winwin sits adjacent to you, pretending to read his textbook but is really engrossed within your conversation.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” You mumble, hiding your face in your desk and rubbing at your eyes relentlessly. Although you didn’t cry, you stayed up all night regretting your fight with Johnny.

A hand taps you on your shoulder and you see Taeyong with a chocolate milk. Your heart hammers within your chest and you think back to Johnny and how you would share a milk almost every day.

He would know to get you strawberry milk.

Tears welled up in your eyes and your lip quivered seeing the carton. This scene was all too familiar. Yuta quickly rushed to shush you as Winwin waved his hands in front of your eyes to keep tears from falling.

After calming you down promptly, Taeyong begins, “Why don’t you just talk to him?”

It was dangerous threading these waters. How could you work your way around it without saying, ‘by the way, I’m the mascot, the embarrassment to our school!’ If it were that simple, you wouldn’t have almost cried in front of the boys!

“I can’t…” You whisper, dejected and wishing to drift to a different plane of existence. “It’s too difficult to explain what’s going on.” You trail off, hoping they wouldn’t push the subject but understand your point.

They seemed to understand, nodding pitfully as Taeyong rubbed your back. What you didn’t realize was Johnny saw you when he peeped his head in your classroom. Biting his tongue harshly, he almost ran to his classroom and sat down in a huff, face flushed red with rage. He knew his outburst yesterday was uncalled for but seeing you so close to your recent found friends made his blood boil.

It was no secret that Johnny had a huge crush on you. Anyone with eyes and a brain could tell. How could anyone not be in love with you? A distant night in freshman year confirmed his undying passion for you. There was nothing special about that night but your smile and laugh had his temperature rising and his hands shaking. It certainly didn’t go unnoticed by others either. So why were those three boys acting so close to you? It provoked Johnny deeply and his emotions haven’t been in check because of lingering touches between you and everyone else. Being a teenager is hard, especially when you can’t recognize the line between friend and lover.

Johnny desperately wanted to cross that line and for everyone else to stay far away from that line.

A hand clamped down on Johnny’s broad shoulder and he jolted straight up, ready to yell at whoever disturbed him. An ugly scowl was plastered onto his face.

“Johnny!” The boy was from his volleyball team, smiling brightly but soon fading into a straight line. “What’s wrong?”

Johnny fakes a grin, “Nothing! What do you need?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, well now that you ask, I forgot.”

Is he lying because he saw Johnny pissed? Can Johnny even be that scary?

“It’s okay! Just tell me when you remember.” Johnny reassures, turning back to his desk.

“W-Wait!” the boy stumbles, looking for the right words, “the volleyball team created a plan recently for the last volleyball game of the season to celebrate…”

This peaked Johnny’s interest. “What’s your plan?”

Mark was sweating buckets, tense that Johnny might reject the team’s plan. Everyone was going to be pissed at him if Johnny rejects the plan. Plus, he would have to buy dinner for the week for everyone.

“We wanted to reveal who our school mascot might be…”

Johnny quirked his eyebrow up, interested. A small grin broke on his face and his little obsession with the mascot was fully on display. Two of his desires would be fulfilled. One, he would finally know who the mascot was, something that has been irking him since ninth year. Next, he might get new recruitments for next year’s team! Nothing negative could come from this.

“Let’s do it!” He confirms and Mark lets out a long-held breath. Mark bids goodbye and dashes out of the classroom, glad to be out of such a tricky situation.

For a short moment, Johnny forgot about how upset he was about you. Looking outside, he analyzed how the flowers bloomed slowly. He would love to show you right now.

Unfortunately, it appeared that both of you were on different sides of a flower. Not everything in life is supposed to be easy.

——————-------------------

Huffing and puffing behind the bleachers, you sat down for a moment to catch your breath. Usually you wouldn’t be so out of shape but due to emotional eating and lack of sleep because of Johnny, your physical state was lacking. It was the last game of the season and it had to be your best game yet. You couldn’t bare to let Johnny down again, even if he doesn’t know it’s you. As it was the last home game as well, you needed to make the night special.

The buzzer, loud and alarming, warns the teams that it’s soon time to play. You come jogging out onto the court, waving at the huge crowd. With the last home game of the volleyball season, a majority of the school showed up. Waiting for the cue of music, you got into position. After a few tricks and turns, the crowd erupts into joyful yelling as each team runs onto the court, wishing the other good luck.

You sat by the bleachers and distinctly you could hear the whispers of your classmates around you. Jerking your head around, all you see is the crowd smiling at you and praising you. Jumping around as a way to say, ‘thanks!,’ you turn back to the game. People were definitely plotting something, but what? Is there going to be a huge prom proposal tonight? Or maybe another party? Whatever the reason may be, it caught your attention greatly. You didn’t even realize when the opposing team called a timeout.

Starting the cheer to mock the opposing team, your school stomps on the bleachers and yells, “TO!”

A flash of a figure makes you step back and you see a mop of brown hair flying and a boy excitedly jumping up and down. Johnny urges the crowd to scream louder and louder as one of the teachers supervising the game shouted for them to shut up. Obviously no one paid attention as both Johnny and you were riling up the crowd. You didn’t dare miss the glint in Johnny’s eye in that moment you saw him staring.

With the timeout finished, Johnny runs back to his team and resumes the game. You watched intently as a rally began, neither side giving up. This game was surprisingly close and N City High looked as fierce than ever. The opposing team has been rivals with your school for years in athletics. If they didn’t win tonight, the entire volleyball team would be the joke of the school until another team loses in some sport. Quietly praying to any gods above, you hoped that wouldn’t happen to them. Johnny had worked so hard to build up his team; you couldn’t bear to see it all come crashing down.

Finally the score was 24-24. The game was neck-to-neck and people looked more stressed than usually. A surprise tip came from Winwin and had the crowd soaring and roaring out of their seats. The ball was rolled under the net to a giant, confident boy who strode up to the line with confidence. His arm extended fully and whacked the ball hard, barely passing the net and almost being out of boundaries. Luck was on his side as the score changed from 25-24 to 26-24.

N City High has done it.

The band breaks out into a cheery tune as the fight song echoes throughout the gym. You merrily clap your hands along and head to the center of the floor, giggling inside the big, mascot head. It was infectious seeing everyone so joyous.

Suddenly, you’re lifted up into the air and multiple hands are on the outside of the bodysuit. Panic sets in your stomach and you thrash around, trying to shake off whoever has grabbed you. A few yelps of pain were expressed and soon you were set back on the ground roughly, falling to your knees. Crawling away shakily, you’re jerked back by the hands of someone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, to celebrate our win, we will show everyone who our esteemed mascot may be!”

A sharp light fills your view and the mesh that surrounded your eyes from the mascot head disappears. Your eyes take a moment to adjust but soon you see the gasping faces of your classmates around you along with the horrified face of Johnny, holding the head of the stupid, ugly parrot. Its face was mocking you silently with uplifted eyebrows and knitted pink patches of blush.

Not even giving yourself a second to think, you bolt out of the gym, charging straight to the locker room. With choked sobs, you slammed the door and ripped off the rest of the outfit.

How fucking humiliating.

You have embarrassed yourself more times than you would like to admit but never on a level as extreme as this. Slipping on the black hoodie you arrived in, you caught a glimpse of your distraught face in the grimy mirror and immediately let out a whimper, sliding down to the floor and taking a moment to yourself.

You couldn’t leave. There was no way anyone would let you leave without questioning you. A cry escapes your lips and you slam your hand to your mouth, biting on the flesh until the taste of blood coats your mouth. It was embarrassing for your identity to be exposed. But by your best friend? That’s on a whole new level.

The door swings open abruptly and your head is filled with flight instincts. You rush over to the bathroom, locking the stall and listening to the loud footsteps.

“(Y/N)?” A sugary, honey voice presses, footsteps becoming closer.

“What are you doing in here, this is a girl’s bathroom!” You spit out, outraged at the offender.

Johnny sighs and you hear and feel a small ‘thump’ on the door of the stall.

“Can we talk?”

“We are.” You promptly respond.

“I meant face to face…” Johnny corrects.

You soundlessly unlocked the door and swung it open, not caring if you hit Johnny or not. Dejected, you stare at the floor in silence, waiting for him to start the conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You laugh, not sure if it’s a taunt or out of pure shock. “Why? Because it's embarrassing as hell. Nobody wants to be friends with the fucking school mascot.”

“Are you stupid?” Johnny replies and you feel the space around you grow a million times hotter. He steps closer to you and with a firm hand grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Do you know how much I don’t care? I’ve been obsessed with that mascot for so long because I wanted to befriend them. To think you thought of me so lowly hurts.” Tears well up in your eyes and you tear your gaze from him, stepping back. “Obviously. So what do you want? To make fun of me? Say your goodbyes?”

He scoffs and engulfs you in a hug, his cologne invading your senses. You instantly relax and wrap your own arms around his waist. After such a terrible week, having Johnny all to yourself comforted you immensely.

“You know I don’t care about reputation.” “I know.” You sob, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” You were a fool. Johnny was one of the most kind, careless people in your life. If anyone wasn’t going to judge you, it would be him. Johnny sighs, “I should be saying that. I’m sorry I was so stubborn and thought you were hiding secrets about your love interests. And that I also accidently revealed who you were to the entire school. I’ll beat up anyone who bullies you.” He jokes. Your heart was finally mending after all these troublesome days. A small smile graced your face as your tore yourself away from Johnny’s shoulder. “I’m glad I finally have my best friend back.”

With a sharp inhale, that mischievous glint reappears once more. “Can I change that?” Your confused look was wiped off instantly as Johnny smashed his lips against yours, his hands trailing to the small of your back. A gasp escapes your lips and Johnny sees it as an invitation to explore your mouth. Your hands make their way up to his neck and arms, not sure where to place themselves. You’ve fantasized over making out with Johnny hundreds of times but now that it’s happening, where did you put your hands all those times?

He pulls away slowly, nibbling on your bottom lip as he does. Your hair is all tousled and eyes wide as Johnny takes in your appearance. He chuckles and leans down again, stealing another kiss but putting more passion than lust into it.

“Sorry,” he whispers, kissing at your neck. “I didn’t mean for our first kiss to be in the locker room.”

“It’s fine. It’s pretty hot if you ask me.”

Laughter ruins the once serious atmosphere as Johnny and you were both cackling at the hilarious situation.

Becoming the school’s mascot was the worst deal you’ve ever made with that scoundrel of a principal.

However, earning Johnny and a few new friends for a lifetime was something you would never trade back in, no matter what reputation you held.

#nct #nct 2019 #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct headcanon #nct seo johnny #nct seo youngho #seo johnny #writing #kpop

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thedoctorisadhd · 7 years ago

Note

what's once on this island about?

i hope ur happy anon, bc this took me literally like six hours im not exaggerating even a little

short answer: so u take the original plot of the littlest mermaid and u plunk it down rIGHT in the middle of 1920s haiti, right

long answer (like, REALLY long answer. like REALLY long. im sorry i dont know how to summarize when there are so many good things):

“there is an island where rivers run deep…”

“where the sea, sparkling in the sun, earns it the name, ‘jewel of the antilles.’”

“an island where the poorest of peasants labor —”

“— and the wealthiest of the grand hommes lay.”

“two different worlds on one island!”

“the grand hommes, owners of the land and masters of their own fates.”

“and the peasants, eternally at the mercy of the wind and sea, would pray constantly to the gods.”

those are the four storytellers, beginning the play. lydia started the first line, then abby, then dori, then natalie, and repeat.

(oh yeah, also this is the jr version. also, i dont know everything bc i was backstage the majority of the time)

so the gods that the beach people / peasants are dancing to, theres 4 of them. asaka (played by lavanya in our production) is the goddess of the earth, erzulie (played by luke who’s closeted, so i change it to a god, erzulio) beautiful goddess of love. agwe (played by ian) is the god of the sea, and papa ge (eli, of course, and it’s literally pronounced papa gay), my personal favorite, is the sly demon of death

and this is all described in the first number “we dance”

stay tuned yo it gets better.

(its so good. dont ever listen to any version besides the chatham one i can guarantee you that any non-eli papa ge, any non-luke erzulie / erzulio, any non-lavanya asaka, any non-ian agwe, any non-lydia / dori / abby / natalie storyteller will not be as good)

so basically theres this storm, and in this storm is a little girl and the gods are like “no papa ge we’re not killing her you fuck” and they irresponsibly plunk her down in a tree

and so tonton julien (ben) and mama euralie (izzy) come along & are like “holy shit a kid” (and this girl is crying her eyes out of course bc as mr adam creatively put it to the girl who played young ti moune, “you were just dropped in a tree by some randos you’ve never seen before in your entire life”) but like theyre poor and dont have a lotta food and shit so they try to leave but the gods, showing some small modicum of responsibility, like, use the force to pull them back. so these peasants adopt ti moune and name her ti moune and theres a whole big number about her growing up called “one small girl” which i quite like actually

then ti moune is grown up (sammie) and she sings about like “whats my destiny yo” all naive in “waiting for life” and sees a car which is a big ol lead-in to the next number. which brings us to

so in the beginning of “rain” theres this HILARIOUS section of dialogue with the gods picking mangos and here it is bc i cant not include it man

asaka: 🎵 pick a mango! 🎵

agwe: 🎵 a juicy mango! 🎵

erizulie: 🎵 a lovely mango! 🎵

papa ge, being Himself: 🎶 a poison mango! 😈 🎶

[all of the other gods look at papa ge]

anyway, after that theyre all proposing things to do to get ti moune less naive, with such wonderful suggestions from these dumbasses as “splash her with a wave” and “scare her half to death”. and then erzulie is like “yeah u do that imma give her what she wants bye” and the other gods are like “????????????” and shes just like “You Heard Me” and just goes like “Love Can Conquer Anything!!!!!!! :)))))))) ❤️💞💕💚💛💙💜💝💘💗💖❣️” and papa ge is like “that’s bullshit this whole thing is bullshit that’s a scam fuck the love here’s like two reasons why” and they argue (and asaka remarks that this is “more amusing than mangos”) and the gods are all “HMMMM🤔🤔” and then they all go “A BET!”

and the gods all start like pitching in to set up this bet, so like erzulie gives her strength and asaka’s gonna guide her but then papa ge interrupts like “IM GONNA MAKE HER CHOOSE” and then johnny boy i mean ian i mean agwe then calls dibs on choosing the circumstances of the bet

and u remember that car right? well ian agwe is like “that. thats the place where the 2 worlds meet” and he creates a big ol storm and in the song he says (one of my favorite lines, actually) “rain makes the road such a dangerous place” (he did amazing in that song but i feel kinda bad bc like. he was overshadowed by the other gods who are all incredible singers, and parts of it were too low for him. like, eli can sing as high as he did, but ian really cant sing that low)

also they used the fish flags from the seussical two years ago when sammie’s sister sidne played the cat in the hat. i always found it hilarious that dori of all people they couldve chosen played a fish

ANYWAY. so the car is goin down the road and crash oh no a car accident. totally not what agwe was (shot)gunning for

and so ti moune pulls this guy outta the car right, and — by the way, now we’re in this super intense number called “pray” — and this song is real fuckin good alright.

my opinion upon this is based almost solely on the fact that within the first like ten lines of this epically long song a peasant, talking about the guy that got pulled outta the car (daniel, that’s his name), says, literally: “papa ge wants him!” i will remind you that papa ge is pronounced “papa gay” and what makes it even more astronomically fuckin funny is that both hank, the guy that played daniel, and eli, who as u may know played papa ge, are mlm.

anyway no one wants to help daniel even tho he’s Actively Dying bc Fuck The Grand Hommes, Am I Right Guys We Cant Do Anything Were Peasants And There Is Sanctity That We Must Never Talk To Look At Or Think About A Single Grand Homme, Ever™ but ti mounes gonna help him bc Fuck You Guys and she keeps him alive while tonton julien goes to find the guys family after she’s Finally persuaded the guy to do this

and ti moune doesnt sleep for Three Fucken Days by the way. thats important in the next number

also daniel is supposed to be good looking so of course ti moune Falls In Love With Him despite never having seen him before in her entire life, and also hes unconcious the Whole time. i dont understand the heterosexuals

anyway, tonton juliens at the gate to daniels family hotel and he’s like “pls let me in i need to speak to monsieur beausome!” and the gatekeepers like “get the fuck away my guy” and hes like “no but its urgent!!” and the gatekeeper SLAPS BEN [LAST NAME REDACTED]*

so ben i mean tonton recovers and like seriously gets down on his knees and begs and the gatekeeper is still like “FUCK! NO!” and then ben fucking [last name redacted]* SCREAMS SAVAGELY “I HAVE FOUND HIS SON!” HOO BOY

and then at the end of pray you hear a long high note and then one specific girl takes it HIGHER ????????? idk who it is for sure but im willing to put my money on lavanya bc jesus christ can that girl sing

*people always say bens full name when referring to him for some reason, so it’s not ben bc which ben? it’s not ben b. it’s ben [last name redacted].

so pray goes ge STRAIGHT into forever yours. not the reprise, thats later.

so. forever yours. in a STUNNING turn of events (sarcasm. absolutely the least stunning thing after the whole “papa gay wants him” in pray), the VERY fucking FIRST LINE IN THIS WHOLE FUCKING STUPID HEARTFELT SONG is literally ti moune saying “i am a tree, holding away the storm”. are you fucking serious. are you kidding me. you waste the first line on that monstrosity,

anyway basically what happens in this is ti moune is singing about tending to daniel here it is

i am a tree holding away the stormhere in my arms i’ll keep u safe and warmeven the gods wont dare to cross this linewhere my life is forever yoursand you are mine

and on that last word, “mine”, papa ge joins in and it is fuckin CHILLING, not LEAST bc eli has the voice of a fuckin angel (and sammie too, but i think eli’s is just slightly better)

so eli stalks in and the first thing papa ge does, in a True demonstration of the gay / ge agenda, is Drag The Het.

(then he goes on to say “this boy is mine”)

so eli’s also got a knife (a fake one) and this is another Important Thing so yeah

anyway sammie ti moune should “TAKE MINE FOR HIS.” (her life she meant) and papa ge is SHOOK. he just … stops. “wot”

so yeah. ti moune, in one of The most IMPRESSIVE displays of heterosexual tomfoolery and ridiculousness i have Yet Seen (scene), trades her life for this Complete Fuckin Stranger she pulled out of the car wreck whomst has not as of yet spoken a Single word to her bc HE’S BEEN UNCONSCIOUS THE WHOLE TIME!?

and heres another good line, the first gay daddy nico diangelo himself eli papa gay papa ge has had since “wot”: i am the road / leading to no return

(and this is also where eli goes REALLY high. like not for basically everyone else, but for him)

then daniels two dads apparently, grant and hugh, pick him up and take him back to the hotel and ti moune is like “NOOOOOOO” and makes mama and tonton let her leave to go find daniel, and frankly i am not very interested in this specific part of the song so fuck that i skipped it lmao lets get to lavanyas fuckin SOLO

alright. “mama will provide”. exactly what it says on the tin, taking it into account that asaka would be mother earth i guess

really all this one is is lavanya’s fuckin angelic voice and What Exists In Nature, and i cant very well put lavanya’s voice down on the page for yinz to hear can i? the only notable thing i can really think of besides this next piece a dialogue will share w u is in the beginning theres a bunch of ensemble doing weird repeating acapella and some hopping in like frogs. “COO COO coo coo cOO COO COOO” “SHAH shaSHA-ah” “buuuuu BUM! BUM! bum” its sounds slightly weirder than it is

anyway here’s the best dialogue:

everyone: MOSQUITOS??

asaka: HA!

ACT TWO HERE WE FUCKIN GO ALRIGHT

ok, so ti moune finds daniel who doesnt know who she is bc, you know, he was unconscious the entire time. she gets him to know she was the one who nursed him tho. and they go to the front of the stage and ti moune sits and daniel puts his head on her lap. again, poor hank

now, “human heart”. jesus. i have literally cried over this song.

so erzulie goes out on stage to where hank is slowly suffering, probably, and sings this GODS DAMN BEAUTIFUL SONG about like, love n shit i guess. the storytellers and the other three gods act as a sort of choir. that’s pretty much all there is to say about human heart tho. moving on

ok so for “pray (reprise)” the gossipers (which are apparently supposed to be the storytellers, but fuck that thats lame, give my Cool Hoes lianna and taylor parts tbh) go out on stage and sing about how daniel is spending all his time w a peasant and shes a witch and yadda yadda yadda. and then theres some lame romance shit that i dont have fuckin time for

anyway, the song culminates with daniel’s father comin out on stage (lmao). which father, u ask? he had two of em? well that was grant and hugh, this one’s iain. conclusion: daniel has three polyamorous gay dads. this is the gayest production of a play ive ever seen. i mean papa ge? “papa ge wants him”? the fact that tonton means uncle so mama euralie and tonton julien arent married? “this boy is mine” coming from daddy gay himself? the fact that daniels last name means beautiful man? the “beautiful god of love” (as luke said, refusing to misgender himself in his introduction U GO LUKE)? the fact that out of the main cast (the 4 gods, the 4 storytellers, daniel, ti moune, andrea, mama euralie, and tonton julien) there are literally eight (8) actors who Arent straight (id bet that two others arent str8 and or / cis as well but im not sure)? just change daniel to danielle and itll be perfect

ayway daniel’s 3rd dad comes out on stage and tells him to stop this nonsense, young man ANYWAY NEXT SONG

in “some girls” the rich guys at the hotel all are doing a really lame colorless boring dance. then this girl andrea (ava) comes out and sings about the rumors about ti moune, that she’s stupid or wild, and daniel tells her to stop, then ti moune arrives and andrea really condescendingly asks her to dance for everyone and daniel encourages ti moune

so ti moune does a slow lame dance and then it gets loud and wild and fun! then when she’s done andrea goes to daniel and is like “she’s in love with you you oblivious fuck if you care at all you’ll tell her —” (unclear about what he’s caring about) and andrea is interrupted by ti moune who’s like “HI I HEARD MY NAME WHATCHA WANT ANDREA” and daniel goes and breaks her fuckin heart right

how he does this is he’s like “oops sorry i thought u would realize that we could never marry bc andrea and i are already engaged (since we were babies)”. daniel demonstrates an amazing amount of calmness about being forced to marry this girl he’s known all his life, and an incredible amount of insensitiveness bc TI MOUNE WAS NEVER FUCKIN TOLD THAT HE WAS ENGAGED. honestly i loathe literally every single character in this play except for the gods and the storytellers lmao

OK NOW FOR MY FAVORITE FUCKIN ONE WOW :~)

the reprise of forever mine.

so. ti moune is alone on stage and she goes like “gods please are u listening help me” and then. u hear. eli’s fucking amazing evil laugh and the gay himself appears

and he’s like u gotta keep ur promise ti moune im here to collect on that Soul

did i mention elis voice is beautiful? no i dont care, im sayin it again, eli [last name redacted] has the voice of an angel

anyway he’s like “u gave him ur soul, now u have to PAY” (the line he used here is “i am the price you’ll pay” and that sounds cool as shit)

and so “father homosexual,” as he was dubbed by luke, takes out his knife and sings “your life is forever mine” and holds the knife to ti mounes neck and ti moune yells “PLEASE DONT” and and and

he stops.

“trade your life for his.”

so papa ge gives her the knife and tells her to go stab daniel and he sings “i am the road that leads to no return” as he walks to the left side of the stage, and erzulie appears at the right side and sings human heart as papa ge continues with his verse from the first forever mine as ti moune struggles towards and away from daniel, straining, being pulled by opposite forces, love and death, and the two unite in singing “forever mine!” and ti moune casts the knife to the floor and screams “NO!”

and the music stops

and daniel sees the knife and picks it up

and says “why?!”

(fuckin bitch shoulda stabbed him when she had the chance)

and ti moune gets cast out and like, withers away at the gate neither eating nor sleeping, and then daniel comes to the gate with andrea at his wedding and sees ti moune and gives her a coin when she runs after him, and she collapses and the gods, sOMEHOW GAINING SOME MINISCULE VIEW OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF THEIR FUCKIN ACTIONS, all start CRYING. (erzulie won the bet) and erzulie hugs ti moune and papa ges probably off somewhere feeling sorry for himself bc you cant fuckin see him in the footage (nah, he’s off at the side of the stage with the other two gods neither of whomst you can see either), and mama euralie comes to sing this sad and pretty number “part of us” and then tonton and baby ti moune arrive as well for some fuckin reason,

and mama euralie says,

“and then the gods blessed her and turned her into —”

and then the gods hit their staffs on the floor (ian a bit gentlier bc his was falling apart bc he wouldnt stop fucking licking the fucking ribbons, ian) “a tree!”

and the tree comes up, forwards this time thankfully (phew) and and the tree fuckin cracks the walls of the hotel, get rekt scrubs, and the tree fuckin stalks daniel i guess, and daniels son sits by the tree and looks up and theres a peasant girl in its branches, and ti moune touches everyones hearts and also their livers, and everyone starts singing “why we tell the story”

also, fun story real quick, ive never actually seen eli dab i dont think (that’s something i need to accomplish real soon), and the dance he went off to the side and did with like, lydia, and agwe and ben [last name redacted] and daniels son and hugh — i guess all the boys in musical theater and also lydia, and the dance they have to do looks pretty damn like dabbing, and like, eli’s holding his staff so he cant do a true dab, really, but he can do a one armed one — but no. his dancing looks more like fuckin waving. ben [last name redacted] is dabbing, daniels son is dabbing, im like 80 percent sure ian’s dabbing directly behind eli, gloria’s dabbing in the back, but no, nOT ELI. im pretty sure he’s deliberately avoiding it smh

anyway

whOOP exciting parts over. now it’s time for Sad Half Circle Around Tree Girl i guess

“the stories that we weave,” and the storytellers and daniel’s son and the peasant girl in tree moune’s branches all come to the front and —

“there is an island where rivers run deep…”

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typwrter · 7 years ago

Text

What He Should Have Said, a Monologue by Emilie Hepburn.

My Dearest, Emilie.

I will understand if you cannot forgive me. What I did was unspeakable. I need you to know that I never meant for you to get hurt. I, for some reason, always had the naive notion I was in the right. It is only now, that I write this, that I realize how misguided my actions were. You did not deserve the life you were given, and it is in writing this that I hope to help you find peace. If this is as far as you get, I understand. I am writing this not for myself. I have done enough in this lifetime for myself. I write this so that should you ever need closure, you can do so on your own terms, or do so in not reading this at all. I hope to explain what led me to take the path I did. I will not lie. It is not my place to victimize myself, nor do I believe my words will absolve me of my crimes. This apology is sincere, Emilie. I hope it brings you some solace.

You were a beautiful baby, Emilie. You had your mother’s beautiful eyes, and crazy hair. Luckily her hair. Im sure there was a time I loved your mother, even if I cannot remember it anymore. Decades of unreasonable hate and too much booze has has erased all my good memories of our relationship. She’s incredibly talented, your mum. Just like you, huh? I’ve always been a bit jealous of her. The way she can make people feel. Your mother has a gift with people. I never seemed as important next to her. I felt like she sucked the life from me and the more I drank the more I resented her. It wasn’t right, but you’re so much like her Emilie. I loved you with my whole heart, and yet I could see her with her claws in you. I could see her stealing you away from me. Turning you into all the little things that had come to drive me crazy about her. Everything she said, everything she did. And you and your sister just waddled along after her. I could never steal your attention like she did. I did try.

I loved you, Emilie. I loved the way you saw the world. You were so smart for your age. You were strong. Like your mother, when you talked everyone listened. Everyone wanted to be loved by you. I wanted so much from our relationship. I treated you how I’d always wanted my parents to treat me. An alcohol soaked brain telling me I was being the ‘cool dad’ when in truth I was just being inappropriate. You had to grown up too fast, Emilie, and I am to blame for that. No daughter should have to raise their father, especially not before they’ve gotten a chance to live.

It started before you were born. I had dreams for my life, and someone gave me a sample of the life I wanted. A taste of stardom that I would never have again. My career ended before it could begin and like many I found solace in the drink. I am ashamed to tell you I am a cliché. A wannabe rocker who never had what it really took to be a star. I can pretend it was the industry. That I wasn’t the perfect image of a rocker, what with my premature receding hairline and ever growing beer gut, but in truth I just couldn’t put the passion some can into their work. I’ve never truly struggled, Emilie, and so I had nothing to fight against. My music had no pain, and no life. I gave it all I had, and I failed. I was a flop. I never truly recovered from that blow to my pride.

When you’re in school, you drink to convince everyone you’re cool. Or at least I did. You don’t really partake in alcohol, do you? I suppose that’s my fault as well. Ruined the concept for you a bit. It’s completely understandable. When I was in school, I wasn’t particularly good at anything. I wasn’t the smartest, or the strongest. I couldn’t play basketball or make the dean’s list. I didn’t stand out. I used humor to gain attention. The more I drank, the less I felt like I had to work at impressing people. It took the edge off. Eventually it became obvious that I couldn’t be without it. It seemed to happen over night. I was fine, and then I wasn’t.

Your mother and I met at a wedding. I was smashed. Your mother was smashed. We had an excellent night. We went out a bit, but we were young. Going out meant drinking, and I was good at hiding my problem. How was she to know?

We got married for the party. It wasn’t a good idea. We both just got so excited about the idea of making all our friends dress up and drink with us, we lost ourselves in the moment. It wasn’t until you that your mother realized there was a problem. You see, she drank too. But then she stopped. She was able to grow up for you. I wasn’t.

I loved you, Emilie. I know I keep saying that, but it is only because I feel like I have never been able to say it enough. Never been able to make you hear it. Maybe now can be different. It was much easier to see there was a problem when I was drinking at six in the morning while we got ready for work. I hated when Melody called me out on it though. I hated when anyone brought notice to it. I wanted it to be something we never talked about, and I couldn’t understand why no one else could leave it be. I watched my friends grow up around me… and I never did. Instead I kept drinking and reminiscing. I made terrible decisions.

And than your sister was born. I still had my heads stuck in the clouds, you see. Kept thinking that one day… one day I would have it all again. The stage, the band, the albums. I thought if I willed it to happen, It would.

Your mother went away. Her aunt was dying, and we didn’t have the money for both of us to go, so she went alone. She left me with you and your sister. I was ill equipped to take care of you. I was not a good parent. I resented Melody for leaving me with such an impossible thing to do, and so I lashed out. This was not the first time I used you against your mother, but it was the first time I scarred you doing so. I told you your mother had abandoned you. I told you she was never coming home. For a full week you sat by the window and wept. I listened to you cry. I didn’t care. At least now you were sitting still. You were easier to manage when you were sad, and easier meant more beer for me. When your mother returned she was furious. Of course she was, she came home to her child a neglected mess. I hadn’t taken care of you.

You asked me who god was. I suppose you’d heard students talking about Him at school, or maybe read about Him in a book somewhere. I told you he didn’t exist. Melody yelled, at me for saying something so final to a child, but what did I care? In my eyes God was a stupid ploy to control the masses. Why would my child need their head filled with so much bullshit?

Eventually it was rare that your mother and I weren’t fighting. Life was madness, and my drinking got worse. I couldn’t stomach all the guilt I felt, and the only way I knew how to deal with it was by drowning it. The more I drank, the less I made sense. Anger and jealousy twisted my vision, fact became fiction, fiction became fact. It was easy to pretend your mother was the source of all my problems, and by taking it out on her, I had an outlet. It wasn’t right, and I make no excuse. I was a horrible husband.

You just kept growing. The more you grew, the more you learned that I was a disappointment. Your mother was so good at parenting and she always seemed to one up me in everything I did. And the worst was that she knew. She knew that I was nothing without alcohol, and I felt the need to discredit her. I wanted to be the good guy, and so I needed a bad guy to blame when things went wrong.

And then she left. She took you from me. At the time you were so confused. You said things you didn’t mean, and there is nothing I can say to make this right. I’d put you in danger with my addiction, and your mother saved you. I hated her for it… but she was gone.

Your mother is too good a woman. She never wanted to take anything from you that you would resent her for. She had grown up without a father, and so you were subjected to shared custody. She was gracious. She took care of you when you were with her. She raised you. When you were with me I spent my time taking my anger out on you. Only you. Without your mother there, someone needed to take the abuse, and that fell on you. I said horrible things to you. I would make you feel small because it made me feel big. I’m embarrassed at how much of a traditional bully I was, a hypocrite. You were small, and you were there. And I was angry.

And just like your mother, you learned. It took a lot of pain to teach you though.

You were eleven years old when I picked you up from girl guides with liquor on my lips. I could have killed you. Killed your sister. An officer pulled us over though, and I was arrested. You were terrified. Angry. I deserved worse than I got.

When you finally left me, it was drawn out. I fought it with every fiber in my body to keep you. I lashed out. Like a caged animal I attacked. I left you wounded, but you escaped. And still I hounded you. You leaving felt like a failure. I had wanted to ruin your mother, and instead, I had just isolated myself. I remarried. I had another child, Emilie, and still, I didn’t let your scars heal. I had a piece of you, and I didn’t want to give it up. I burned it. I burned the things you would need to heal your wounds. I poured the antidote down the drain. Not that you can ever truly be cured from wounds so deep. I had conditioned you, Emilie, to want to care for the people I tortured. So that as long as I was hurting someone, you would feel the guilt. I brainwashed you. I broke you.

I could write a million of these letters, Emilie, and never could I truly explain why I did the things that I did. I do not deserve your forgiveness. But you deserve to move on. And it is with that that I write this letter. It is in knowing that you are the person I have hurt, that I leave you this.

You are not who you are because of me, Emilie. You are you despite me. And I am proud. You were the better man. I wish you hadn’t had to be. You may never forgive your father the the way he has left you, but I hope one day you can find peace in knowing you never did anything wrong. You survived, Emilie Hepburn. Take a deep breath, and when you’re ready… take another step forward. You will always have this in your past. You will always feel this scar. You will never truly live until you allow yourself to feel it. So feel it. Breath, Emilie. One day, you will do incredible things. And all of this, will stop being your sob story, and become your origins.

Sincerely, What he should have said, even if he never will.

#an apology letter written from the perspective of my emotionally abusive alcoholic father #mentions of alcohol #mentions of emotional abuse #writing #emiliewrites

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lifeisaboxofcereal · 8 years ago

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No clue who this is addressed to, nor what the purpose of this is/will be, but feeling exasperated that nothing helps me feel better, how about I give venting via writing a shot.

Here’s the deal. I’ve been involved with this guy for about 5+ years. Lets call him owl. Its the first thing I looked at in my apartment trying to come up with a code name instead of publishing this guys name who any of you reading most likely already know his name via any of my fb posts in the last 5 years. I met him my freshman year at UD. Ballroom dance team. To this day I dont even know if I can explain what drew me to him. He was cocky and confident, cheeky, and cute. He danced. He was a Marine. He seemed so out of my league as a dorky, naive, super awkward freshman that didn’t know anything about college culture. I learned quick that a few dates does not mean we’re dating, and that he was a man of many many ladies. I learned quick that he did not really take my feelings into consideration but I would put them aside and accept any interactions or affections that were given. We had a connection and I had fun with him. I just wanted to go with it.

I went with it for all four years of college. Always waiting for when he’d finally be ready to commit. Or see how much I do for him. How I’m always there, good times and bad. Even when he really really pisses me off. Waiting for him to see that I was his best friend the way I saw that he was mine. Waiting for him to stop messing up with me, appreciate me, cherish me, want to show me off.

I’m gonna be honest, that never came. Not in college. I didnt date anyone else. I didnt get involved with anyone else more than a few months, and those involvements were usually the product of me and owl being in one of our phases where we were on the outs and he was not talking to me. but once we were good again sure enough I’d lose interest in whoever it was that I was entertaining in that time. I regret a lot of that. Not giving others real chances, because they actually deserved them and wanted them.

But with him it was always like a game, like a chase, never ending, suspenseful, thrilling, exciting, passionate, never a boring moment. Always keeping me guessing. I hated it but I loved it. He didn’t respect me, and he didnt respect my feelings, but still I stuck around. It’s only now that I’m seeing that I had slowly been losing respect for myself, so what incentive would he have for respecting me when I was being a hypocrite? Our dynamic was one of push and pull. There were the times he’d pull me in and never want to let me go, and then without warning he would push me away and leave me feeling abandoned and confused as to what I did to deserve it.

He hurt me a lot. Never physically. Never. Never forced himself on me, I never once was physically scared of him. But emotionally. Every year there was at least one incident. One big fight that seemed like the be all end all. That would leave me in my dorm crying with my roommate wondering how he could be so cold and harsh towards me after everything I’ve done and everything we’ve shared. Always wishing that he would miss me and realize everything and change. It was a clear cycle, and I’m not stupid, I was very cognizant of it, but idk, i liked it and i was still waiting. What I had with him was so different and special I couldnt let it, or him, go.

Last year, October, we had a big falling out. That was really the be all end all. I knew because, and as stupid as this is or sounds, in all of our fights we had never unfriended each other on facebook or done something as extreme or defining as that. We always left doors open. But with this, he burned all bridges. He made a facebook status about me. He wanted all of my things out of his place. He 100% snapped. It was over, he broke things off and our 4 years of being together but not really together, was over.

I spent the next 5 months in therapy and trying to keep busy with friends and classes and trying to find myself again. So much of my identity was dependent on him and associated with him. All of my memories included him. Even dance reminded me of him. I was so lost. And missed him so much but had motivation to work on myself and for once be comfortable and happy with being on my own. I remember one particular session with my therapist in which she told me that if I still have hope that we will reconcile one day, I need to completely let go of what we had. Put it to rest, let it go, mourn it, and leave it in the past, because there was too much to be fixed and too much wreckage to salvage anything. That if we were to ever reconcile it would have to be a completely clean slate. Free of the past transgressions. So that night I blocked him. I blocked his number, his facebook. his snapchat, everything. It was hard and scary but I did it in hopes that thats what I needed to do even if temporarily and symbolically leave our 4 years together in the past.

2 days later was Valentines day. I was supposed to go to a devils game with a friend and she cancelled last minute because she was sick. I reached out to everyone in my phone to try to find someone to go with me because I did not want to spend valentines day in bed thinking about him and missing him. Nobody could come to the game. I was offered a shift at work and almost took it but someone hopped on it before I could. So i was left with chinese food and netflix. I let myself cry and be upset, and feel the hurt remembering our past valentines days together. And then my mom came to my room and let me know that jake was coming to the house. shit i said his name. whatever. she let me know that he asked permission to come and clear the air, and that he would be there in 40 minutes.

He was there in 30, and we sat down, with my best friend as a third party, and we talked for 5 hours. About everything. Anything. All the grievances we had with each other. What we realized. What we regretted. And he told me that he loved me. That he needs me in his life, and said all of the things that I had waited 4 years for. I kept thinking about how right my therapist was, about letting go and letting them come to you, about starting fresh, about leaving the past in the past.

The months that followed were the epitome of a honeymoon phase. My god. we were finally doing things right. He was showing me off, appreciating me, never wanted to let me go, it was everything. I dont think I’ve ever been so happy. We were so in love with each other, so excited, couldn’t wait more than 2 weeks to visit each other again. We moved in together. We made an apartment a home together. We started new jobs and set goals. We motivated each other, supported each other, and wholeheartedly loved each other. I finally felt like I was in a functional and healthy relationship. I felt so loved every single day and I finally understood what people meant about that unbelievable feeling of being in love with someone who was just as in love with you. We did and learned so much together. We had setbacks, and tiffs here and there, but we worked through each one.

Theres a lot in between then and now, but I don’t think it’s worth getting into or explaining. All I can say is that I don’t know how we went from that, to this. Not speaking. Not looking at each other. An apartment that was once so full of love and laughter now only has silence and tension.

He has problems. And to be honest. I’ve always known that but never wanted to accept it. I have problems too because I am very compliant. The relationship became emotionally abusive. I am mentally abused. And he has left me hating myself when I dont even know who I am. I don’t regret staying with him. I don’t regret getting back with him last year. I dont regret anything. All i’ve done is love and give as much as I possibly can. Im not angry. More than anything, i’m disappointed.

I thought he was it. Actually. I know he is. If he were to get the help that he needed. But in a normal relationship, when there is an issue, you don’t feel that your partner becomes a completely different person. That’s not normal. And right now, I don’t know who he is. For the past 2 weeks I have been wishing I could just snap him out of it. Grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Show him a photo of us and see him come back to me. I have written heartfelt letter after heartfelt letter. Debating giving one to him in hopes of softening him up and coming out of this haze of anger and hatred hes in right now. But thats not normal. I shouldnt have to snap him out of anything. I shouldnt have to wish he’d come back. I shouldnt have to plead and beg for him to remember our good times to soften up. None of it is normal. He dissociates. And when i look at his eyes hes not there. I know this sounds dramatic but it’s true. It’s scary, it’s hurtful, it worries me, but it’s true. He completely detaches, and it’s as though he never knew me. As though we never shared a single experience together. And nothing I do can bring him out of that place. As I write this, I feel like I’m writing or remembering someone that died. And thats because essentially, that is how I feel. the man i spent the past year with loving and learning and GROWING died. He’s gone and I dont know why or where he is. And i’m left with this fraction of myself that doesn’t know how to cope with any of it.

He’s not good for me. Its not worth it. I deserve better. I’m going to be so much happier without him. These are all words that an infinite number of friends or loved ones can say to me but the fucked up part of all of it is that I don’t want better, I want him. I know that I will never be able to fully let him go. It’ll never be fully over. And i will always love him. I care about him more than I care about myself. Which is a big part of the problem.

I don’t know where to go from here. Or how to cope. I don’t know what to do. All i know is that I miss him with every fiber of my being. I can’t open my phone gallery because the last photos I took were with him and I can’t look at them. I made a new facebook to run away from it all. Nothing I do makes me feel better. Friends. Work. Gym. Margaritas. Movies. Its all a distraction from missing the person who made me smile ear to ear every morning, and exhale peacefully every night. Even now as I write this, hes walking around the apartment and its as though Im a ghost. He doesnt see me. Acknowledge me. Notice me. And while I used to see him and feel overwhelming love, I now just feel hated. Complete hatred. As though I ruined his life, when all I ever tried to do was make his life better.

So friends, that is my story. I don’t know how it’ll end but I can tell you for sure that I will never be able to hate him or be angry with him. And I will always love him. What comes next for me, I have no idea. I thought writing all of this out would maybe help me have some sort of epiphany but no epiphany came.Sometimes I wish I could have my mind wiped clean of all of this so I wouldnt have to deal with this pain. But I cant. So this is going to suck. For a long while. I’m going to be upset for a long while. I hope at the end of this I can find myself and be a version of myself that has value and pride. I want to be the Bren that loves herself, respects herself, values herself, and is proud of herself. The bren that marched on washington for womens rights in the world needs to march for her rights in her life. More than anything though, I hope he finds himself. I hope he does what he needs to do. I only ever wanted him to be happy. Even if it was at my expense.

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archivesdiveronarpg · 8 years ago

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Congratulations, MADZ! You’ve been accepted for the role of MACBETH. It was the voice that drew me in. Madz, you captured Macbeth, our great Mikael Falco, so vividly that I couldn't say no. He was so charming, carrying a bit of tragedy on every word, that I found myself sympathizing with him. Your interpretation of Mikael begs the question: is he a man of evil or is he having evils thrust upon him? I'm so excited to welcome you to the family, Madz! I can't wait to see what developments unfold! Your request to change his FC to Tom Ellis has been approved. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within twenty-four hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Madz

Age | 19 years young, my dudes.

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | I should be around a decent amount, probably about a ⅚ because… well, school.

Timezone | EST

In Character

Character | Macbeth; Mikael Falco (fc change to Tom Ellis perhaps ;-) )

What drew you to this character? |

I wanna play a bad guy. Honestly it’s as simple as that for me at this point, I want to play a bad guy. Mikael Falco is what people consider a bad guy, but that doesn’t mean he’s necessarily a great bad guy. Sure he walks the walk and most certainly talks the talk, but deep down, there’s something in him that restrains him from really unleashing the full extent of power that we want to see in a bad guy. That something is obedience. The trait that was ingrained in him as a child in boarding school, something he now cannot stand. It will be his downfall, the very thing that will inevitably bring him to his knees, and he knows it. Mikael’s been trying to overcome this deadly habit, but with such a strong desire for power and his willingness to prove himself to the Capulets (though not without his own power hungry agenda), his progression towards independence is slow and rather unsteady. Though his obedience at one time had been blind, he’s now beginning to use it against anyone who stands in his way. A true con man, Mikael’s ability to lie in the face of those superior to him has gotten him far. But it’s not far enough for the man who was meant for greatness. He wants the crown to rest upon his head and his alone, and he’s not afraid to do anything it takes to get it. His bad guy image isn’t helped by the fact that he’s completely whipped by his devil of a wife. He’d always dreamed of dancing with the Devil, but he hadn’t pictured the Devil stepping on his toes and getting in his way. But she has this sick, twisted power over him, one that chokes him tighter than his extremely well-tailored Armani suits, one that he initially loved but has quickly turned to despise.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

Of course I cannot wait to plot out Lucrecia and Mikael’s relationship. I think for what it is, Macbeth and Lady Macbeth are one of the best duos in literature. Their relationship is complex and it’s dark and it’s dirty and all the things I love to see from killer couples. I hope that Mikael could break the chains from which he’s weighed down.

So I think a really fun plot would just be his descent into madness. I think this was probably my favorite aspect of Macbeth’s story when I originally read it, and I think it’s a central part to his character that’s going to be fun to expand on. He’s got inner demons that he battles day in and day out, and I think writing a character who is so determined to get power but is also held back his struggle with himself is going to be interesting.

And lastly I think his struggle with his position in the mob would probably be one of the main plots I’d develop while writing him, because the Devil isn’t placated unless he’s calling the shots himself and doesn’t have to answer to the so-called “Gods.” Mikael has been trying so diligently to prove himself to the Capulets, doing anything and everything they ask of him, killing anyone who could possibly get in their way in attempts to show himself worthy of a better position. And I feel like Mikael will definitely be plotting different ways to achieve this higher status, through whatever means he deems necessary.

In Depth

The following THREE questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would were you playing the character.

What is your favorite place in Verona?

Mikael could all but hold back his laughter as he sat against the cool metal chair, legs spread distinctly as to exude an air of power. “You call this an interrogation?” He remarked snidely, rubbing his thumb and index finger along his sharp jawline. In all the years he’d been working for the Capulets, Mikael Falco had his fair share of visits to this all too familiar interrogation room. The walls were grey, water dripped from a corner where a dark black circle seemed to expand twice its size each time he’d returned, and there was only a metal table barricading him from the other enemy – the law. He’d spent enough time running from the Montagues that it only aggravated him more when they managed to catch onto his business affairs. And with the wound still healing from the murder of Alvise, many were pointing fingers at Mikael, who hadn’t decided if he was going to use this as an opportunity or shut the rumor mill down. “Everyone knows how I adore The Tempest,” He replied finally, after spending some time analyzing the unfamiliar face scribbling notes before him. “I hear they’ve even taken to engraving my initials into the table I frequent, which of course I said was unnecessary but completely welcome.” He ended this statement with a charming smile, one he’d been perfecting for years, one that satiated any uneasy feelings anyone might of had when interacting with him.

What does your typical day look like?

“First, I’d wake up, and reach over to my wife who I haven’t fucked in ages, hoping to spark any kind of flame that lingered from our younger years, only to be shot down with a shrug of her shoulder when I managed to touch her skin. Then, defeated, I’d get up and get ready, making sure my suit was in perfect condition and everything about my appearance was pristine. The Capulets expect an appearance of superiority, because we are superior. Then, I’d mumble some sort of goodbye to Lucrecia who’d ignore me, leaving my confidence at a low, but that’s besides the point. I’d make my way over to the cathedral, able to smell the irony of our headquarters practically miles. There are no Gods in Verona, not yet at least.” Not until I take over. “Assignments for the day are posted routinely at 8 a.m., and I’m usually less than satisfied by my orders to patrol the shipping docks we use to smuggle our weaponry, but I’d head there with whomever else I’ve been assigned to work with. We’d make all the right small talk, and I’d be lucky if I left work any type of happy. On a good day, I’d be assigned something better, something more… exhilarating. It’s the little tastes of pleasure like getting to off another Montague solider that make me rest easy at night, though I know I can do more. It’s just a matter of time until everyone will witness the extent of my power, and then they’ll either give me the power I deserve, or I’ll pry it from their limp fingers. Then I’d make my way over to The Tempest, where I’d drink my troubles away while listening to some young woman with wide eyes and naive dreams talk to me about God knows what, before returning home. Lucrecia might be there, or not. I’ve come to expect her absence. I’d climb into bed in my drunken haze, and drift off into a slumber.”

“It doesn’t look like much,” He finally replied, almost too easily. He wasn’t stupid enough to give him any sort of information, not even a white lie was safe in the hands of the law. “I do my job, just like you.”

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

Mikael’s intrigue was spiked by this question, the first that pertained to the very being of who he was, and he sat up almost instinctively. From the outside, the feud between the Capulets and Montagues seemed to be about nothing more than territory and old family rivalries, fickle matters with which Mikael rarely found himself concerned with. Sure, the territory each family claimed for their own indicated a sense of power, but Mikael knew that the real power came from within, and he wasn’t one to get too involved with the affairs of the families from which he didn’t spawn.

“Someone once asked, “War, what is it good for?” and then proceeded to answer “nothing.” Mikael stopped speaking for a moment to laugh quietly before fixing his posture and returning to his calm demeanor. “I pity the fool who believes that sentiment, for war is but a necessary evil for those who desire to conquer. And I… Well I desire nothing less.”

In-Character Para Sample: (yeah im still finding my bad guy dialogue a bit rough but i’m trying)

From the moment he was born, Mikael gravitated towards grandeur in all things he did. The Falco insignia was adorned in gold and blood, though it had not always been this way, as those who had come before him shed blood, sweat, and tears in their efforts to build an empire from the ground up while oppressive forces tried to hold them down.

Tugging tightly on the cuffs of his tailored suit, Mikael carried himself proudly through the streets of Verona, a silk crimson handkerchief peaking out slightly from his front pocket. There was a certain determination in his step as he walked, an image of no particular significance to those who did not know the man. To the untrained eye, he looked just like any other wealthy and power hungry man, but for those who learned to fear the man’s unique tune he whistled as he walked into back alleys, this wasn’t a leisurely walk. Mikael had a destination, a target rather, that he was headed to, one that hadn’t been officially assigned to him.

His lips were pursed tightly and he begun to whistle his tune, shoving his right hand into his pocket, sliding it over the cool metal of his knife. His fingers skimmed over the serrated edges of the blade and made their way to the elegantly carved golden handle. It was his favorite weapon, the one with which he had the most practice with and the one that made a name for himself.

Mikael arrived at a corner and turned it quickly, giving himself but a fleeting moment to glance at the man who was about thirty paces behind him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been followed, and it surely wasn’t going to be the last. Mikael knew that killing him would be clumsy, and that wasn’t his business. But he wanted to send a message, something he was particularly fond of. Sparing people wasn’t something he did often, but he instilled a fear equivalent to the fear of God in those whom he chose to spare, always able to make an impression.

There was a gap between two equally beautiful buildings, and Mikael turned quickly into it while he was certain the man following him hadn’t seen him. He waited against the cool exterior of the building, hand still resting on his knife, the other one flexed open. Hearing shuffled footsteps approaching slowly, Mikael readied himself. The footsteps came closer, and began to slow, and without a moment’s notice, Mikael reached his left arm out from the alley and pulled the man into it by the collar. His grip was tight, and the man grunted as he was thrust harshly into the wall. “I understand you’ve been sent to follow me,” He said in a hauntingly calm demeanor. It took him a moment to notice the man he had in his hand wasn’t much of a man at all, and was more of a boy. Typical Montague behavior. The young boy shook his head in fear, obviously new to the job, and he squirmed underneath Mikael’s grip before he tightened it. “Stop fidgeting, boy.” He spat, looking over his shoulder to make sure that no one was able to see this interaction take place.

“I’m going to give you one try, and I want you to be honest with me, do you understand?” The boy gulped in fear, and nodded his head after a moment of deliberation. “Great. Who sent you?” His question was concise and straight to the point, games were for children and Mikael found himself relatively tired of the games people liked to play. “I’m not going to ask you again,” He threatened, raising his voice and drawing his blade from his pocket. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to have to use this to end you,” He said, raising the blade to the boy’s eye level, which he noticed changed the boy’s attitude. “M-M-Matth–” “Matthias. Of course. Now, I want you to tell Matthias that I’m tired of his games, I’m tired of his tactics, and frankly I’m tired of this feud he has with me. Make it very clear to him that the next time he sends someone after me, this knife,” taking this time to slide the cool blade gently across the boy’s cheek, leaving a small nick at his jawline, “Will do more than leave a scratch.”

#accepted #accepted: macbeth

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isaacathom · 7 years ago

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ok this is actually a fun bit of writing here, even if the preceding shit was kinda garbage

tl;dr this bitch has to rant about this stupid book because i naively want to learn something about my family’s history and this is the only fucken way to do it

‘When he discovered he had to work to help provide for this instant family of a large flock of children, ‘Mick’ showed his true self and devotion to the family.

Within a year of the marriage, he left the fold, leaving his wife to fend for herself in the daunting task of raising her children.’

like.aside from just being kinda awkwardly worded (he bangs On and On about how his mum was the 11th of 11 children like fuck i get it its a big family, holy shit) i think thats just. a good concept there. the space really sells the punch. wouldve been better if we hadnt been told beforehand that Mick was a cunt, yknow. but thats nice

also lets keep going. ‘6 step brothers and 4 step sisters’ theyre actually her Half Siblings. they all share the same mother. theyre related. she’d be step if she was adopted, which she was not, because if she were, surely we wouldve been told about those circumstances.

‘[his mother] easily met that high standard as she was a very pretty young lady’ please dont perv out over your fucking mother you pig of a man. also you would hope ‘jock’ (his name is fucking robert but ok, Jock) was interested in more than how pretty Nellie was when they got together, right......... like there had to be more to it. am i naive? perhaps

‘scottish clan gordon’ the what. but we arent gordons???? are you. are you hundred percent sure. are you positive about this. are you sure thats why your name is gordon. alright buddy

‘according to buzzy’s story’ please never refer to yourself in the third person

‘hotels rarely burn down’ ?? i dont buy that at all. my guess is this famous hotel (which.... you didnt name so ok)

ok so theres a picture in here of my dad standing at some random gate, and he says its the same gate as a picture of his dad..... where is THAT picture??? this picture means nothing without that historic context, and it feels hollow if the actual picture isnt there.

granddad you dont. you dont need to wikipedia article dump me information about glasgow??? i mean sure, cool, id rather just be reading the wikipedia article.

jesus christ. so hes talking about his dad, right. who he’d technically set up earlier by saying he came to melbourne at 19. before he launched into a whole thng about his mother and shit. and suddenly hes come back to his dad to explain that his dad (so gordons grandfather) used to beat him! and its like, wOAH, where the fuck did that come from??? shit dude. thats rough. but he just mentions it suddenly out of nowhere. oH JESUS actually. sorry. i misread (yknow, because its written like shit). he means.... his brother??? right, he means his Brother Robert, was beaten by his dad, also named Robert, who was the one who came to melbourne aged 19. ok. ok that makes slightly more structural sense but ooof. ouch. poor robert (the younger). in my uh, defence, this book is written awful and i've never met robert? (my.... understanding is that he probably died before i was born? like with mary, who i dont recall having met either)

ok uhhh ‘most of the gorbal’s tenemenets were eventually demolished by the wise founding fathers many decades later, in the 1980s’ the WHOM. this isnt fucking america, this is scotland, what in the actual fuck are you TALKING about????????????????????????????? ‘modern day replacement improvements and architecture designed to achieve, what?’ fucker they were trying to fix the mistake they made in crowding 90k people into the fucking gorbals. maybe they didnt succeed (they didnt) but they were trying, it was naivete rather than fucking malice, you bitter old fuck. like, you visited in the 1980s.... and published this book in 2007......... without thinking to check back......... like hey maybe theyve gotten better? (newsflash - they fucking have) sooo... fuck

‘could the [my family] be related? [to the mcdonalds]’ yes??? we literally are. theres no question of that. being a sept of clanranald, we are Literally related to the fucking macdonalds. you absolute buffoon. yea its distant, and maybe thats your point, but when combined with you launching into this giant diatribe about rhw Campbells for shit that happened long ago, it seems youre picking and choosing how close ‘related’ is. we are. literally. related to the macdonalds. also it wasnt thought up in glasgow, they were from fucking new hampshire. but sure.

‘his sheila wife of his’ excuse me?

‘so the name was related to a buzzing bee i suppose’ ? i still dont get it. like, he then explains that apparently his twin sister had difficulty saying Brother, so she called him Buzzy. that makes sense to me. i can understand that. but the buzzing bee thing? not sure i follow, given the prior context he provided. i dont get it. this is written like garbage. theres no structure. we went from jumping forward in time to the birth of my uncle Dale (my dads older brother) and suddenly we’re talking about Mick’s running career and gordon’s childhood! what the fuck happened.

‘coupled with the bigoted attitudes that were rife during those periods’ says the man who got angry at a black (i THINK, mightve been a separate story) frenchman who couldnt speak english in France because ‘we saved them’. fuck off. youre just like them, you old codger.

also hes decrying his grandfather mick for being ‘no true irishman’ even though micks dad was full irish? by that exact same metric i can call my grandfather no true scotsman, because his dad is full scottish and thats it!!! you fucking fool. no true irishman, holy shit, how little self awareness could this man have.

‘then excessive drinking liquor isnt for me’ but is Is for your wife, is it gordon??? drinking wine when shes on antibiotics??? fucking incredible. god theyre. theyre so stupid.

‘not proceeding as a scholar as i could have’ you literally admitted like 5 pages ago that your twin sister was Far smarter than you, but sure! ~scholar~. if you were meant to be a scholar surely you wouldve bounded back from missing days with a vengeance. youre talking complete tosh.

im confused why theyd be doing bombing drills in South Yarra.... in preparation from a japanese air raid.... like im sorry, if the people north are doing their jobs, theres no physical way they couldve gotten to south yarra....... but ok. thats not his fault i just think thats strange.

im 110 pages in and he hasnt actually gotten to the point where he meets eleanor??? aside from a few time jumps forward and a brief mention of ‘meeting her in a milk bar in south yarra’ so like. hoi vey? the fuck.

oh jesus thats. thats a heavy thing to just chuck in the middle of a sentence??? like ‘oh yea after Skete the next scout leader was a paedophile who abused me and the others’ wwwOooahhh there buddy back up. what???? holy shit. ouch. thats. thats rough.

‘absolutely belted this poofta bastard’ yknow what? fair. id also beat the fuck out of a pedo with my boot. thats Relatable. good going on that, i suppose.

ooh thats full third person, weird.

one thing that is definitely kinda interesting, and very telling about his relationship with his family, is that he only ever refers to Nellie as ‘mum’, but refers to Mick as, well, Mick! rather than ‘granddad’ or anything of the sort. like its just sorta interesting when you get this big family photo and Nellie is the only one not called by her first name.

‘returning to those earlier days’ NO! FUCKING MOVE FORWARD IN TIME YOU GIT!!!! holy shit i just want to read about new fucking shit.

......... so like, at some point while playing footy, an opposing player kicked him in the leg and caused a fractured tibia. so a few weeks later... one of gordons friends took a mark on that player and kneed him straight in the head, with that player never playing again. and he’s PROUD of that!!! he’s proud of his friend for ruining a guys footy career. like yea, the guy was a dick, he broke your leg and it was at least partially malicious, but like........... you fucked him up????? hardcore?????? a straight up ruination. but go off i guess.

its interesting that he doesnt go even remotely into eleanors history beyond the fact (so far) that her father Leo didnt say much but was a good dude. then again the books all about him soooo fuck it i suppose.

‘recognition of our scottish heritage’ eleanor isnt scottish tho. shes irish. shes an o'donoghue. what the fuck. like yea naming them dale and glen is a ‘clever’ nod back to scotland (i actually do think thats cute and clever, joking aside. its the exact sort of ‘clever’ shit i love pulling) but............. shes not scottish. unless we’re waiting for volume 2 all about eleanor.

hE USED TO LIVE OUT HERE??????? IN SPRINGVALE????? fuck me. no fucking wonder we live here, huh, jesus. that. certainly explains something, i suppose. like ‘if you were raised in holbrook and YOU were raised in thomastown, why do we live in knox?’

OHHHHH HERES THE FRENCH THING!!!! OHHHH HERES ONE OF THE FRENCH THINGS. OH BITCH behold

so granddads being a dick, as usual, and he’s on some tour in paris. and the tour guide launches into a long thing about the glory of france, like french history and the fighting record, etc. and granddad calls out and tells him to knock it off, because ‘our australians died by the thousands for your country’

i. eh... uhh............... is he. is he aware? of how many french people died???? for france?????? how many????? il tell you how many - apparently 1.44% of the total population of france. thats 600000 people. how many did we lose? around 35k. thats, uh, a smaller fucking number. than the amount of french people. who died. for fucking france. you fucking idiot.

it kills me. is he gonna include the french speaking one too???

oh hell that sure is a picture of my father. good heavens. holy shit my brother really does look like him. thats uncanny, man.

‘one son Scotty’ his name is Scott, actually. not scotty. but cool, i got a really small shout out, weirdly BEFORE my older cousins did???? oh dear is he gonna talk about my uncles divorce actually. oh god. thats. thats terrifying to consider. oh, cool, he didnt in that small section, hopefully it doesnt come up haha (i can only IMAGINE what sort of vile shit he’d say about cathy)

also, ooh, more nuggets on grandma’s family. her dad was a freemason! thats cool.

ooh! he was the president of holbrook shire council! thats kinda neat actually.

ooh! the glenndale motel actually still exists! thats cool as hell. not that granddad told me that i just googled it

OHHH ITS THE FUCKING FRENCH SPEAKING STORY OH MY GOD

Ok first off ‘i slammed my fist into the counter and said very calmly’ yea no fuck that, youre fucking lying. theres no way you slammed the counter and spoke calmly. you almost definitely abused this poor french metro worker who, being a French Man living in France, is not required to know english. you fucking babboonnnnnnnnnn

apparently he nearly fell off a mountain innnnnn geeermany? austria, austria. and as he mentions my dad pulling him back up, he words it as ‘stopping me from falling to my final destiny’ what fucking wording IS that. my god.

uh well ok thats. about it i suppose. there was a big hullabuloo about like, hotels and shit, and there was probably some racism about Islanders in there (like i find it hard to believe there wasnt but im not gonna go back and double check, because this book reads like absolute garbage). but eh. yea?

uuhhh so that was an Adventure, for sure

#long post #book liveblog #theres no like tags for this its just me reading a stupid fucking memoir my granddad wrote with 0 fucking oversight #half of it is almost definitely inaccurate or straight up incorrect. the rest is just poorly written and structured #ike it was a chore to get through because my eyes just bounce off the page because it reads like how I fucking type on the internet #but without any intent! my shit grammar is at least supposed to convey fuckin. speech patterns or something #his writing is just poorly thought out and hasnt been edited in the slightest and its just Disgusting my guy

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