#wish I could cause this kind of uproar

[oleksiak-pettersson]

Pick Me - Elias Pettersson

howdy hey everybody! It's been a hot minute... sorry not sorry.

this is the first part of a three part series i've been cooking up in my head for a few years now. I want to emphasize that this is set in a completely fictional world and is complete AU. The Canucks featured in this fic don't play hockey in the story. The timeline is also not accurate to real life.

warnings: angst, a certain celebrity featured as the villain, pregnancy, labour, swearing, this is an AU, only Quinn still plays hockey, almost cheating, emotional cheating in a way (will be expanded on more in the next parts)

word count: 4.5k

Pick Me | Choose Me | Love Me

There’s nothing better than the warmth of a comforter wrapped around your body. You pull it closer around your body, not caring if it leaves your lover without.

Your eyes blink open slowly, arms clutching the pregnancy pillow to your chest, comforter wrapped around the pillow and over your body.

As your eyes blink open, once, twice, a third time, you notice that at some point in your restful slumber, you’d stolen the comforter completely from your husband. Never one to complain, Elias must’ve grabbed the second duvet from the hall closet.

Your husband is lingering in the bathroom, you can hear the sink running as he goes about his morning routine.

He must notice you moving, as he approaches softly. He’s freshly showered and the smile on his face is soft and mellow in the morning light.

“Hi,” you murmur, taking in his beauty as it’s illuminated by the golden sun. His blue eyes twinkle with fondness as they take in your sleepy form.

You stretch a little, turning over to the side of the bed he sits on. His hand comes up and brushes a stray eyelash from your cheek. He holds it up to show you and let you make a wish, a simple gesture you taught him in your early stages of dating. There’s a kind of tenderness to his touch that no one else could quite possess.

“Hi.” Elias smiles back, hand falling from your face to hold yours. “How did you sleep?”

“So good, these two didn’t move a bit.” You prop yourself up against the headboard, free hand coming to rest on your belly.

“Probably too exhausted from kicking you all day yesterday,” Elias jokes, his smile causing his eyes to crinkle. He leans forward and presses his lips against yours. It’s a soft and sweet kiss. His mouth is minty fresh from brushing his teeth and it makes you smile.

He’s slow to pull away and you chase his mouth as he goes. He chuckles softly, hand caressing your cheek. 

“I’ve got to go meet Brock and Quinn soon for golf, I made you breakfast, it’s on the counter,” he announces, standing back up and stretching.

“What no in bed delivery? The service here sucks,” you lilt, the teasing evident in your voice. Ever the drama Queen, Elias rolls his eyes leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be back this afternoon, call or text if you need anything.” And with that he’s out the door.

You stretch as you get up, your back cracks and your belly feels heavier than normal. You feel like you’re resting lower than yesterday and there’s a weird feeling settling in your gut. You shake it off though, pulling on your lounging outfit. Your doctor had warned you about Braxton hicks contractions and you were sure that this feeling in your belly had to be that.

Your due date was fast approaching and you couldn’t wait. Pregnancy is hard enough but when you’re carrying twins it’s a whole other beast. You’re incredibly lucky to have such a kind partner who has taken such good care of you. Elias’ job as a content creator allows him to control his hours, unlike his good friend Quinn who captains the local Vancouver NHL team and whose schedule is rigid with intense travel.

It’s a slow waddle to the kitchen and you take it slow. One of your cats lounges in the middle of the hallway and you have to gently nudge her from your path with your foot. She mewls in uproar but does nothing to stop her movement. You have to lean against the wall in support to move her and your stomach twists once again. You take a breather against the wall, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

Upon finally reaching the kitchen, you feel the need to sit down. The kitchen island chairs look incredibly unsupportive and the kitchen table has the worst chairs for relaxing. You let out a huff at the idea of having to move into the living room.

Your breakfast is still warm and you bring it into the living room to relax on the couch. The pain isn’t slowing down but instead seems to be moving up your back.

It’s just Braxton Hicks, you think. There’s no way I’m going into labour.

You find a comfortable position on the couch and rest your plate on your belly. Your feet come up to rest on the coffee table and you flick through the channels. 

The scrambled eggs and toast is just what you needed. The pain in your gut quells a little and you find the perfect spot on the couch to rest. There’s a throw blanket hanging on the back of the couch and you pull it over yourself.

Both cats follow your lead and curl up near you on the couch. You hold your hand out trying to call either into your lap, but neither take the bait. You sigh, moving slightly in an attempt to tuck the blanket under yourself but giving up quickly as you tire.

The curtains that cover the living room windows are wide open and the light from the mild spring day is bright but you can’t find it in yourself to get up. The simplest of actions, getting up and getting food, have exhausted you and your eyelids begin to feel heavy.

//

You wake up with a jolt of pain that causes your whole body to cease. The groan that leaves your mouth causes both cats to jump up from the couch and disappear down the hall.

The pain is intense and you briefly can’t move. It’s over as quick as it came on. You sit up on the couch trying to regulate your breathing. Your heart is racing as you throw the blanket off of your body and stand up. 

There’s no more denying it. You’re in labour. You need to find your phone and get a hold of your husband. It’s time.

The waddle down the hallway back to your bedroom feels like an eternity, you know there’s time before your next contraction will ripple through your body but you still feel a bit panicked. You twist your wedding ring around your finger as you go, trying anything to calm the fog of anxiety that’s beginning to descend around you.

Your phone is where you left it the night before, on the nightstand still plugged in to the charger. You’ve got a single notification, a text from Elias’ coworker Natasha Dion, inviting you out for brunch next week.

But there’s no time to respond to her. You need Elias. You perch yourself on the bed, legs holding you up as you focus on your phone.

You quickly unlock the phone, your face ID failing you - forcing a password attempt that you’re not too sure how you even managed to get the numbers correct. You close the instagram app sloppily, a leftover from last night's pre-bed scrolling session, and open your phone app.

Elias’ contact is the most recent number you’ve called and you waste no time clicking on it.

The phone dials up and the line begins to ring. You stifle a sob and try to take a deep breath as the line continues to ring. Your free hand cradles your belly. One of the twins moves beneath your hand, causing a little chuckle to leave your mouth.

“Mama will see you soon,” you murmur, the line continuing to ring in your ear.

Suddenly there’s a beep and Elias’ voice comes through. “Hey, you’ve reached Petey. Can’t get to the phone right now but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

“Shit,” you curse and then the beep sounds through. “Hi babe, it's me. Um, I think I’m in labour and I need you to get home uh, right away? Call me back please.”

You take another breath, trying to remember what they taught you in Lamaze class. You flick through your brain trying to recall the class you practised breathing. You can see the teacher saying something in your mind but you can’t hear it, you were too focussed on the feeling of your husband's rock hard abs against your back. It certainly hadn’t helped your breathing, to the point that the teacher had come over and corrected your breathing. Again though, Elias’ breath on your shoulder had distracted you.

Goddamn your sexy husband and his too-hot-to-handle existence. 

You decide to send him a text too.

To Hubby: Hi babe, can you call when you can? I’m pretty sure I’m in labour…

Another contraction convulses through your body. Your spine feels like it’s on fire and your belly tightens. You cry out vocally, trying to breathe rhythmically. You let yourself fall back against the pillows, just trying to get through the pain. You dig your fingers into the comforter, eyes screwing shut. It’s way worse than any period cramp you’ve ever had and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath. Of course he can’t fucking be reached right now. Asshat.

Once the pain eases, you force yourself back up and grab your phone. There’s no new notifications and you resist the urge to cry. Then it hits you, Elias is golfing with Brock and Quinn. Brock’s phone is always on, something about never wanting to miss a call from his agent for the next big Hollywood hit or whatever, you don’t care about his reasoning right now but you’re thankful for him.

The phone starts to ring and you click the speaker phone option. It rings once before there's an answer. God bless Brock.

“Hello gorgeous mother of my future godchildren, how are you?” He answers, charming as always. 

“Hey Brock,” You chuckle at his greeting, trying to hide the tinge of pain behind your voice. “Can you give the phone to Elias? He’s not picking up and I think I’m in labour.”

There’s a pause on the other end and some shuffling. You think you can hear Bella in the background asking what's going on, that causes you to furrow your eyebrows. Why would Bella be golfing with them? She hates it as much as you do. Then you hear the phone being grabbed from Brock’s grip as he cries out a loud “hey!’.

“Babes, Petey isn’t here with us?” Bella states, sounding equally as confused as you.

“Put it on speaker,” Brock demands in the background, not as loud as Bella. The sound of the phone shifts slightly as she switches it.

“He said he was golfing with you and Quinn today.” You reply, groaning as another shockwave of pain runs over you. You groan loudly into the phone. The pain causes you to drop the phone on the bed and forget the phone call as you try to breathe it out.

“That’s impossible because Quinn is in-” Brock counters, slightly oblivious to your pain. You love him to death but he can be such a blonde sometimes.

“Brock, it doesn’t matter right now,” You can hear the annoyance in his girlfriend’s voice as she interrupts his thoughts. Her focus is quickly back on you. “Y/N, are you in labour?”

The cry of anguish you respond with clues her in immediately. She springs into action on the other side of the phone. “Brock, get the keys. We have to get her to the hospital.”

“No.” You cry out, pain subsiding slightly. 

“Y/N, babes, you’re in labour,” Bella levels, her calmest and most rational voice on full display. It’s what you need right not but the irrational part of your brain doesn’t want to leave without your husband. “Brock will keep calling Elias but we need to get you to the hospital.”

“Okay,” you relent, getting up from the bed slowly, you pick your phone up and head for the nursery.

“Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?” She asks, Brock is in the background stomping around the apartment. Anyone unfamiliar with the actor would think he’s mad, but knowing him, you know that’s just simply the way he moves. A lot less elegance than he looks like he may possess. 

“Yes please.”

///

In the time it takes Brock and Bella to get to your apartment, you manage to change and grab your go-bag before letting yourself relax on the couch. You achieved all of this between crippling contractions. 

Your favourite two people in the world let themselves in with the key they have to your apartment. They have sympathetic looks on their faces as they take in the sight of you on the couch. 

You must look like a mess, you’re sweaty and stressed. “Hi,” is all you manage from your spot.

“Hi gorgeous, ready to go become a mama?” Bella coos, squatting down in front of you. There’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes and you can feel it now too. It’s slowly becoming real. You nod, holding out your arms so she can help you up. You brace against her arms as you get up, smiling gratefully.

Brock stands behind her sheepishly, flitting with his phone. His thumbs are moving a mile a minute and you hope to god that he’s talking to Elias and Elias is on the way.

“Is Elias going to meet us there?” There’s hope in your eyes that slightly breaks Brock’s heart.

In a split second decision, he lies. “Of course, so we should get going.”

Truth is, Brock has no fucking clue where his best friend is. He has no fucking clue why Elias lied about being with him. He sure as hell knows he’s going to chew out Elias’s ass the moment he tracks the Swede down.

The lie does seem to pacify you and Brock is quick to be at your side and help you to the car, Bella follows along behind, having grabbed the go bag. Brock leads you down the hallway as his girlfriend locks the apartment. 

///

Brock has never been more stressed in his life. He was once looking forward to having children of his own with his beautiful girlfriend but after driving you to the hospital in the state you were in, he’s not so sure. You cried out in pain nearly every 8 minutes on the way, Vancouver traffic never one to be considerate of a crisis.

The screaming from the back of his car had Brock white-knuckling the steering wheel and peaking sheepishly in the rearview mirror at Bella holding your hand. The pale look on his face nearly caused Bella to laugh, until you gripped her hand harder, head thrown back against the seat headrest. 

Between glancing back to make sure you’re okay and glancing at his Apple CarPlay in hopes of a response from your husband, Brock was struggling to pay attention to the road. 

Not the best attitude to take when driving a pregnant woman to the hospital. It caused your anxiety to skyrocket and Bella to yell at Brock which certainly did not help the situation.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Brock is quick to let you and Bella out at the emergency entrance, before circling around to go find a parking spot.

Bella has your elbow in her arm, supporting you as she guides you to the entrance. Your go-bag is over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” You murmur between breaths. The gratitude is quickly overtaken by a contraction though and you stop dead in the middle of the entryway, paralyzed with pain. Bella is quick to hold you up.

“Breathe, just like this,” her lips purse and she blows out her breath in a weird pattern. You copy along as a nurse approaches you. You recognize her as the nurse who does your check-ups.

“Hi Mrs. Pettersson, looks like we’re having these babies,” She smiles, coming to your other side and helping Bella guide you to the wheelchair an orderly brought over. You just nod your head, trying to follow along with Bella’s breathing technique. 

The orderly begins pushing you along to a room, the nurse lags behind with Bella. The nurse has a look of concern on her face as she turns to Bella.

“Where is Elias?” She inquires, she’d always admired how dedicated your partner was during check-ups. He always had questions and a detailed list of what you’d been experiencing since the last check-up. It had taken her by surprise when he wasn’t there but ever the professional, she’d schooled her shock.

“I don’t know, he should be arriving soon.” Bella supplies, speeding up to keep up with you.

The nurse nods her head and heads back to her station to grab her gear. Brock comes rushing through the door, spotting his girlfriend lingering outside of your room. 

The nurse slides between them to get into your room, the door is cracked as she begins to get you ready. Bella brings your go-bag in as you get changed into an IV-compatible gown. She plugs in your phone charger and checks to see if there’s an update from Elias. Your phone only shows a text from your mom. 

“Y/N, your mom texted, should I let her know?” She calls out to you.

Your reply comes muffled through the bathroom door. “Yes please.”

Both Bella and the nurse chuckle at your response. Bella is quick to shoot off the text, eyes lingering on where Brock is pacing outside the room. His phone is in one hand and the other is pulling at his gorgeous blonde locks in what can only be described as one of the most stressed actions she’s ever seen.

As you settle in the hospital bed and the nurse begins to fasten different machines to you. You’re oblivious to the stress emanating off of the actor outside of your room as you relax between contractions.

“Is it too late for an epidural?” You inquire sheepishly. Your nurse laughs.

Bella excuses herself and slips outside. She swears she shuts the door as she joins Brock outside. They can still see into your room, you’re chatting politely with your nurse as she fixes the blood pressure cuff around your bicep.

“Do you know when Elias will be here?” She asks softly.

Brock’s face drops as he turns away from the window. He’s seen your lipreading skills before and even though you’re distracted, he’s not taking the risk. “No.”

“Well what did he say when you talked to him?” Bella inquires, eyebrow peaked in interest. She also turns away from the window.

“I didn’t.” Brock says, eyes dropping to the floor. “I don’t know where Elias is.”

“But you said-”

“I needed to keep her calm,” Brock makes eye contact with Bella, the love for you is clear behind his eyes and she softens at the admission. “She can’t know that he’s not coming.”

“He’s not coming,” Bella repeats, trying to wrap her head around the fact.

“What do you mean he’s not coming?” Your voice sounds from behind them; you’re standing in the doorway, gown-clad and attached to a mobile IV unit. The look of shock on your face breaks both Brock and Bella’s hearts. Your voice grows quieter. “You said he was coming”.

Brock reaches out to comfort you but you’re now freaking out like he’s never seen before. The heart rate monitor spikes and the nurse in the room rushes to get you into bed.

There’s so much emotion flowing through your body. You’re hyperventilating and want to scream. No one is prepared for the way you pass out. Brock and your nurse lunge to catch you, struggling to get you into the hospital bed.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Brock is also freaking out now.

The nurse has no time for him though as she reaches for a large red button on the wall. Bella stands idly in the doorway watching the chaos unfold. She’s frozen in shock, unsure what just happened and what she needs to do.

The nurse is quick to spring into action, and she peers over her shoulder at your two companions. “You both need to get out of here. We have to take her to the operating room.”

///

Elias’ phone is on the counter in the other room. He’d placed it on the kitchen counter as soon as he’d entered Vanessa’s luxury penthouse. He’d had to dance around baby toys sprawled around the floor but it made him chuckle thinking about how your apartment would soon look like that.

Elias had met Vanessa Morgan a year and a half ago when he and Natasha had helped with creating some ads for Riverdale’s production team. He kept his friendship with the actress on the lowdown from you. You’d been suspicious of her since you’d met her. She seemed weirdly obsessed with your husband, but Petey thought of her as a friend.

He’d offered to help her set up some of the baby furniture she hadn’t had the chance to before she’d had her baby three months ago. 

He’d already finished the changing table and the glider chair. Elias was working on the crib, the instructions almost confusing to him. He’d had no trouble putting the twin’s cribs together. To Elias, it was something a father-to-be should take pride in. 

It’s why Elias stepped up for Vanessa. Her baseball player husband had left her early in her pregnancy. He couldn’t comprehend how a man could up and abandon his family with no hesitation.

“How’s it going in here?” The short actress asks from the doorway. She’d just finished putting her little guy down for a nap, thankful she’d been wise enough to buy a bassinet for her bedroom for her baby’s first few months.

“I think you may have bought the most complicated crib in the world,” Elias laughs, looking up at his friend with a playful smile. “Did he go down for his nap easily?”

Vanessa nods, strutting into the room, she admires the other pieces of furniture he’s built in his couple of hours helping her. “I’m surprised you’re not with your wife today.”

Elias hums, his focus back on trying to fit the pieces together. “What do you mean?”

“She’s getting close to her due date, isn’t she?” She inquires, there’s a tone to her voice that Elias can’t quite place. The tone he can't quite place? Smugness. The kind of hubris possessed by a woman with ill-intentions.

“Yeah but all the boys in my family have arrived late,” Elias insists, twisting the screw driver. “She’ll be fine.”

Vanessa could point out that his wife is carrying twins and therefore more likely to have her babies early but why would she force Elias back into his wife’s arms? No, she’d much rather keep him to herself for as long as possible.

While Elias might think of Vanessa as his friend, Vanessa thinks of Elias in a less pg way. She’d been wanting to get into his pants since the first time they met. Of course she was married at the time, but it had never stopped her before. 

“You know, that looks like hard work,” She starts, adopting her most sensual voice. She’s determined to reel him in. “Why don’t I make you a snack?”

Elias is quick to agree and they both proceed to the kitchen. He leans against the kitchen counter as she scuttles around the kitchen. Vanessa hands him a glass of water that he accepts happily and sips slowly as he watches her.

“How’s the show going?” He asks, as she gathers condiments from the fridge.

She smiles at him, placing her ingredients down on the counter beside him. “It’s good, they’ve been really good about me staying back with River.”

Elias nods, thinking about how easy it’ll be for him to help out with the twins with his job that he can work from home. “That’s awesome. You’ve got a good support system, hey?”

“Yeah, I’m extremely grateful for everyone in my life,” Vanessa puts her butter knife down on the counter, turning to Elias and moving closer to him. She places a hand on his chest and begins to trail her fingers along the ridges of his body. “Especially you, you’ve been so good to me.”

Elias freezes, this must be what you meant when you said Vanessa had a weird energy to her when it came to him. She leans in close, and he can feel her breath on his face. He’s briefly amazed that such a short person can reach him so easily but then she closes her eyes and leans in.

He’s saved by the bell. Okay, maybe not quite a bell but the loud, shrill ringing of his phone is a close enough substitute. He dodges out of her reach to grasp his phone. Brock’s profile picture is on display and once he’s certain she’s not following him, he clicks the green connect button before retreating into the living room with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Hello?” Elias says into the phone, silently thanking whatever deity he can that Brock saved him.

“Dude where the fuck are you?” Brock starts, he sounds panicked and Elias is instantly worried. “Actually, I don’t fucking care. You need to get down to Vancouver General now.”

“Why? Brock, what’s going on?” Elias demands, pacing around the living room.

“Your wife went into labour. After finding out you weren’t coming, she passed out and had to be rushed into an emergency c-section to save the babies.” Brock recites robotically. Elias has never heard his best friend so angry at him. 

Then Brock’s words hit him. His heart stops, and he jolts to. “I’ll be right there.”

///

Elias is quiet as Brock and Bella lead him to your room. Neither of them could truly look at him after he’d told them where he was. He couldn’t blame them.

He was a bit of a wreck. He’d driven over the speed limit to get to you. He hadn’t been there when you needed him and something could’ve happened to you or your babies.

Your room is also quiet. There’s a small whimper coming from one of the bundles in your arms. He stops dead in his tracks, seeing you holding your twins is everything he’s ever wanted. You, the love of his life, with his children. And he missed their arrival.

“Hi,” He says, finally. He’d stood in the doorway somberly long after Brock and Bella had headed home. He’s sure Brock has already informed Quinn of what happened, that’s why his phone is blowing up in his pocket.

“Hello,” you reply coldly, without even looking up at him. Your eyes remain on your sweet boys the entire time. You’d known he was standing there since the moment Brock and Bella led him there.

Your reply is a sharp contrast to the way you’d been with him this morning. It’s shocking to Elias how a single day can change everything in a mere matter of hours.

“So, we’ve got sons.” He starts, dragging his feet on the floor as he walks over to occupy the seat beside your bed.

“Well, we knew that already.” You deadpan, finally looking up at him. There’s pure hurt behind your eyes and Elias wants to reach out and hold you but he knows better.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

You scoff. “Whatever.” 

Elias reaches for a baby and you hand him one.

“I’m here now and I’m not leaving.” He says, sure of himself. It’s too bad you don’t believe him.

Next Part

[jigujellee]

ATTENTION -> got a secret, can you keep it? [ request: Jennie and Y/N (a backup dancer) relationship is a secret. Jennie found out on one of Y/N's friend that another dancer is having a crush on Y/N. Jennie got jealous and it's up to you what will happen next. Hoping for a fluff ending ]

jennie x reader fluff w very, very minor angst (dw tho) word count: 2.8k warnings: none

a/n: thank you for this request! it was really fun to work on :D i'm not gonna lie tho, i kind of struggled with the ending a bit bc i really just wanted to get it done ljdkhfaf but alas, here she is! this is slightly proofread, so pls don't mind any mistakes but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

you’ve always admired private, lowkey relationships.

as you scroll through pinterest and instagram, you often come across photos of couples who don’t show their faces but they make it very clear that they’re together. the notion of being private but not a secret was something you’ve always wished to try with someone.

and for 4 years, you somehow managed to keep a private and secret relationship from the entire world.

when you first started as a backup dancer for yg’s best selling, record breaking, and globally known girl group otherwise known as blackpink, you knew that a relationship with the any of the members would and should not go any further than a work-friendly relationship. but that idea was thrown right out the window when the jennie kim, blackpink’s main rapper and lead vocalist, had made her move on you the moment you stepped into the dance studio for the first time. she was starstruck by the way your body easily flowed to the music, hitting every beat with such precision and power. what started out as just being coworkers evolved into a lovely friendship, and eventually into a relationship that you never knew was even possible in the first place.

but you were also aware that dating an idol had its drawbacks.

though you weren’t too big on pda, it would’ve still been nice to go up to jennie and give her a hug or a kiss on the cheek during work hours, especially when you knew she was exhausted after practicing non-stop. however, you were aware that your position as their backup dancer and the fact that you’re a girl dating a girl (wow shocker) would cause an uproar amongst the public. knowing this, you restrained yourself and maintained a strictly professional relationship between you and the girls. outside of the yg building, you and jennie are inseparable but once you step foot inside, all interactions with her cease unless there’s something to discuss about work. it’s been nearly 2 years since their last comeback, so you’ve been able to have jennie all to yourself; you’ve travelled together and attended her other schedules with her without causing too much suspicion. but now that the comeback has been confirmed and announced, it was time to return to work and act like jennie was nothing more than your senior.

you weren’t gonna deny that it felt good to be back in the studio again. you’ve always had a passion for dancing and you were glad that you could pursue something you actually enjoyed. not only did it pay well and provided good benefits, but it allowed you to meet the love of your life despite having to keep it a secret from the world.

when you walk into the studio, your eyes are met with mirrors that stretch across all the walls, speakers sitting in the corners beside a computer and sound control system - it all felt so comfortable to you. but when four familiar faces come in just minutes after you do, then that’s when everything really starts to feel like home. you bite back a smile when you make eye contact with your girlfriend, who does the same thing towards you. she always managed to make the simplest outfits look expensive. you couldn’t help but stare at how her white tank top accentuates her abs, and how she managed to make a pair of black jeans look designer. while you did your stretches, your gaze constantly shifts to her every once in a while but your view is soon obstructed when your friend and coworker, dany, shows up in front of you.

“hi y/n! it’s so good to see you again. i haven’t heard from you as much, how are you?”

“hi dany, i’ve been good. i decided to take a bit of a break from social media, just really take the time to wind down and relax” you say as you bend over and stretch to reach your legs. dany just laughs and gently rests her hand on your back.

“you didn’t miss me at all?” dany jokes, or so you thought. but you responded in a jokingly matter anyway.

“not at all, i was actually glad to be away from you” you smile.

“hey, you’re so mean!” she starts playfully hitting you, and you laugh as you try to get away from her until you’re interrupted by the sound of the choreographer clapping their hands together, indicating that it was time to start practicing.

“time to get started everyone!”

-

“okay, let’s take 10 then we’ll run it from the top”

it’s been a month since you’ve started rehearsing for the girls’ comeback, and you had to admit that you don’t have as much stamina as you used to. when the music stops and the choreographer calls for a 10 minute break, you attempt to catch your breath while desperately trying to find your water bottle from your bag, but it’s nowhere to be found. jennie notices you rummaging through your bag and grabs her own bottle to give to you, but to unfortunately, dany beats her to it.

“you should really bring your own water, y/n. you always finish mine”

“i never ask for yours just in case there’s any poison, but thanks” you joke. dany fake scoffs and acts offended but she’s glad nonetheless. after nearly inhaling all of the water, you felt a drop run down your mouth and you lift your shirt to wipe it off, along with the sweat that was drenching your face. instead of pulling up the collar of your shirt like a normal person would, you grab the hem and lift it up to expose your toned abdomen. dany’s eyes immediately gloss over your lower body and jennie doesn’t miss the way her eyes widen and sparkle at the sight.

“damn y/n, have you been working out these last 2 years? you look so good,” dany compliments. she manages to swiftly slide her hand over your abdomen, causing you to flinch and immediately back away.

“hey, watch it! i’m ticklish there,” you defend. despite your protests, dany chases you around the studio to try and tickle you. you fail to notice a pair of cat eyes that were burning onto you and dany as the two of you ran around like children.

jennie’s chest becomes a bit heavier and she subconsciously tightens her grip on the bottle that was still in her hand. she’s noticed how awfully close dany was sticking to you during practices, and it was becoming hard to watch. she bites the inside of her cheek, almost hard enough to bleed until another backup dancer approaches her.

“jeez, what a bunch of children. imagine being in your late 20s and you still try to get your crush’s attention by chasing them around and trying to tickle them” the dancer says, clicking their tongue and shaking their head almost disapprovingly. but nothing they said registered in jennie’s head until the word “crush” was mentioned.

“crush? what do you mean?”

“oh didn’t you know? dany has liked y/n for some time now. me personally, i think they’d make a pretty cute couple. a very loud couple but still cute, don’t you think?”

jennie’s eyes nearly roll at the thought of you and dany being together. “i don’t think dany is y/n’s type in my opinion”

“well, dany says that y/n is definitely her type so i’m sure she’d find a way to make it work”

the cat eyed girl clenches her jaw. what the hell was she even supposed to say to that? it’s not like she could explicitly defend your relationship since no one knew you were together. but wow, did it bug her to her core. is this what other people were thinking? did other people think that you and dany would be a great couple?

dany still tried to cling onto you and you desperately tried to get away from her, while jennie didn’t want to bother looking in your direction for the remainder of practice. the members, however, immediately noticed the change in jennie’s mood. when another 10 minute break was called, they decided to intervene.

“hey grumpy, what’s with the face? you look like you’re about to murder someone,” rosé says to her bandmate, who’s been trying to tie her shoes for the last 3 minutes or so.

“it’s nothing, i just really wanna finish and go home so i could sleep. i’m getting really tired already” jennie brushes it off. the other three girls all eye each other, knowing she wasn’t telling the truth but they silently agreed to not pry any further and just give her supportive pats and rubs on her back.

while waiting for the choreographer to get back, another backup dancer takes over the sound system and puts on attention by newjeans just to fool around and freestyle a little bit. the studio is suddenly filled with cheers and screams as a number of dancers made their way to the middle of the dance floor. when the chorus comes on, jennie rushes to the center without even thinking and starts dancing. the girls scream loudly as they cheer on their friend, who was literally sulking not even a few minutes ago.

“okaaay, get it jennie!” lisa shouts out. jisoo and rosé pull out their phones to record her and you do the same for you to watch later and laugh about it with jennie. you watched your girlfriend through your phone screen as she danced with so much energy, and when you look up from your phone, her eyes are already on you. jennie’s gaze doesn’t falter from yours as she continued to move to the music, lip syncing along to the lyrics.

one thing’s for sure

i know you’re the one

you got me looking for attention

the smile on your face doesn’t leave until dany makes her way to the centre and takes the spotlight away from jennie. you watched jennie stop dancing and noticed how annoyed she looked.

“watch me y/n!” dany screams over the music as she starts to dance, which caused jennie to slowly back away towards the girls. you put your phone down and just smile as you watched dany dance, who eventually starts making her way towards you and even had the audacity to press her back against you but you push her away while laughing nervously. in the background, jennie watches the whole thing unfold and if she was annoyed before, well now she was fuming. she hates it when other people try to make their move on you or when they're just too close to you for her liking, but what pisses her off the most is knowing that she can’t rightfully claim what’s hers.

practice continued for practically the whole day until late into the night. once it was finally over, the two of you met at jennie’s house and you noticed she was being very quiet for your liking.

“jen, you alright? you haven’t sa-”

“what do you think about dany? be honest with me”

“babe, you don’t need to worry about dany. she’s just really clingy, that’s all”

“you’re not answering my question. is there something you’re not telling me?”

“no no no no, it’s not like that. what do i think about her? well, she’s cool, very talkative for the most part but i think she’s a great dancer and i have a lot to learn from her”

“do you think she likes you?”

“where did you even get that idea, love?”

“people think you two would make a good couple, so it was just a thought i guess”

“that’s only what people think, but it’s not the truth”

“you don’t know that”

“okay, fine, i don’t know that. but what i do know is that even if dany does like me, it doesn’t mean anything,” you say before making your way towards a pouty jennie and wrapping your arms around her slender waist.

“i’ve known you for 6 years and i’ve been with you for 4. i had to watch sleazy photographers, fansites, and sasaengs ogle you up and down whenever you’re up on a stage and i always just want to go up there and claim you as mine. i know it’s hard to keep hiding in the dark babe, but i can guarantee you that i wouldn’t want someone else in your place”

jennie looks up at you with a pout still evident on her face, her eyes somewhat filled with tears but not enough to start falling.

“but wouldn’t things be easier if you were with dany?”

“i don’t need things to be easy, i need it to be you. it always needs to be you”

jennie pulls you for a long and warm embrace, and the two of you stay like that as you gently sway back and forth. jennie’s ear is on your chest and she listens to your heart beating so gently, and a smile slowly creeps onto her face knowing that your heart only beats for her. you both knew it would be difficult once you decided to be together, but with jennie, everything was definitely worth it and you'd do absolutely anything to keep the woman in your arms all to yourself.

-

you’re back in the studio the following morning, and you can tell jennie is in somewhat of a better mood compared to yesterday, but it changes yet again once dany walks through the door.

“good morning y/n baby!”

“ew, don’t call me that”

“awww, does my baby not like the name?”

you fake gagged and try to laugh it off as you change into a more comfortable pair of shoes for practice. dany rolls her eyes and sits down beside you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“you smell really good y/n”

“i know i do” you dryly reply as you try to tie your shoe. when you finish tying the last knot, you bring your head up and dany takes this chance to try and plant a kiss on your cheek but you push her away immediately.

“dany, what are you doing? we’re at work”

“oh come on y/n, one kiss shouldn’t hurt right?”

jennie gets up from where she’s sitting and makes her way towards you two. the studio suddenly goes quiet as they watch her march from one side to the other, silently wondering what jennie was gonna say next.

“hey dany, how about you learn to respect people’s personal space?and while you're at it, try not to go for people who are happily in a relationship” jennie snides.

“huh? what are you talking about? y/n isn’t in a relationship”

“yes she is”

dany gets bold and challenges jennie, crossing her arms and making her way towards the cat eyed girl but jennie doesn't back down.

“oh yeah? with who?”

“with me,” jennie says sternly as she pushes pass dany and grabs you by the collar to plant a kiss on your lips for everyone to see. when she pulls away, you look at her in shock and you whisper, “jen, what are you doing? we’re gonna get in trouble!”

you back up slightly, waiting for your girlfriend to explain her irrational behaviour but before she could speak, the girls' manager shouts out in joy which gave both you and jennie a confused look on your face.

“ha! i told you! you all owe me $50!,” he shouts as the rest of the staff groan and start fishing money out of their wallets.

“wait, you guys made a bet? on what?”

“on who would be the first one to expose your relationship. everyone thought it’d be you but i had a strong feeling it would be jennie, and i was right!” he exclaims in glee.

“so wait, we’re not in trouble?”

“well you two have been doing a fantastic job at keeping it a secret from the public, so we agreed to let it continue and we’d only intervene if things got out of hand”

“but how did all of you find out in the first place if we never said anything?” jennie asked. the manager and a few staff members pointed at lisa, who puts her hands up in defense.

“okay hey wait a minute, before all of you start pointing fingers i just wanna say for the record, jennie’s not exactly the quietest person when she’s on the phone with y/n”

jennie playfully glares at lisa, but you just stood there smiling. you thought you were being discrete about your relationship with jennie in fear of getting in trouble with the company, but as it turns out, people already knew and supported you in secret. you turn to your girlfriend who was ready to beat lisa up for exposing her, and you can't help but plant a soft kiss on her cheek because you didn’t have to completely hide your relationship anymore. the studio is filled with oohs and awws from everyone around you, causing jennie's cheeks to show a slight tint of pink.

“alright alright, enough chit chat! let’s get back to work everyone, we have a lot of preparations” the manager finally says after receiving his winnings from the bet.

before practice officially began, jennie pulls you in for a kiss once again.

“keep up the good work my favourite dancer”

[ontheshroom]

Paper and Pleasure

Jack Harlow x fem!reader

Smut! ⚠️

A/n: repost

Synopsis: Jack takes a liking to his newest team member.

******************************

You had joined Jack’s team a bit after Loose and a little bit before Confetti. You and Jack had a one-of-a-kind type of relationship, it wasn’t romantic even though there were some crossed lines sometimes. It wasn’t abnormal for you and Jack to chill together, actually, it was a part of y’alls friendship. Something you both bonded over, like Jack you really enjoyed movies as well. The last time you hung out with Jack you both watched the Harry Potter movies at your apartment. You two lay in your covers with you under Jack’s arm with a big bowl of popcorn on his lap. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like y’all were in a relationship, to you, you wished you were.

You’ve had feelings for Jack for a long time, he started to become flirtatious with you after about three months of you being his assistant. It started with him wanting to keep things professional, but the more he got to know you the more he wanted you. Jack would start to call you for things he really didn’t need your help on just so you could be around. One time he and Urban were trying to take pictures at his house and something wasn’t going right with the wifi to upload them to Urban’s computer so he called you. You had no idea how to fix the problem and Jack knew that, but he also knew that you would stick around and wait till his wifi company was able to come and check out the issue and you did.

That was the first night you two watched a movie together, it was just some random movie that was playing on FX but it was memorable because you two were together. Urban snagged a picture of it and showed Jack after you had left to go home, with about fifteen minutes left of the movie you had accidentally fallen asleep on Jack’s shoulder. The picture was so adorable and there was no denying that you two looked like a couple in it. Jack stupidly posted it on his story causing an uproar with his fans thinking the two of you were dating. You had to admit you were fond of the boy though, when you all went to go shoot the video for Thru The Night you were so incredibly jealous of his love interest even though she was the sweetest thing. If Jack wanted to be honest too, he wished you offered to play the part.

After that night you and Jack always made plans to watch something together, even if you both were traveling for his tour, he’d have you bring out your laptop and play it on there. Jack would prefer when this situation occurred and the hotel or Airbnb didn’t have a smart tv so then he could have an excuse to cuddle up to you real close.

Urban and Jack talked about the relationship between you two often.

“Dude, you should just go for it. She clearly knows you’re feeling her. You gave up alcohol and women, there’s no way she’s not suspicious of your new fondness for celibacy.” Urban laughs out to Jack.

“I don’t think she’s realized. Honestly, I don’t think she’s feelin me Urb. I’ll dead be cuddling her while we’re watching a movie or somethin’ and here she goes talking about how cute she thinks this actor is.” Jack says shaking his head. He thought about those moments way more often than he’s willing to admit.

“Dude, Y/n hasn’t talked to a boy since she started working for you. I haven’t even seen her talk to a dude since she’s worked with you that she didn’t have to or that didn’t approach her first. I’m telling you, she definitely likes you.” Urban says blowing out a cloud of smoke.

That night Jack stared at his ceiling thinking about you, while he was in bed. This wasn’t abnormal but he wasn’t on brick this time which was the abnormal part. He was thinking about if you could really like him. Which caused him to think of your smile, and then your hugs, and then your body, and finally, he was on brick. Jack groaned at the universe knowing exactly what it was he was about to do.

The next morning, Jack was determined to ask you out on a date. He needed you to be mine already, or at least take the steps to make it happen. Just as he was getting ready to call you he heard a loud knock on his door in a rhythm he knew like the back of his hand. He walked over to the door opening it to see you with a big smile, he knew once he laid eyes on you his smile was probably ten times bigger. He shifted his body letting you in. Compared to the warm Atlanta heat his apartment was cool and kissed your skin. Sending goosebumps to spread throughout your arms, but that was the least of your worries.

“Jackman, guess what!” You exclaimed with a big smile.

“What?” Jack giggled, happy to see you so excited.

“You’re going on tour for That’s What They All Say!” You exclaimed to him. Jack couldn’t contain his excitement himself, he quickly scooped you up in his arms holding you.

Due to Covid, Jack wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to go on tour so being able to, felt like everything to him, and to do it all with you felt the best.

About five months into the tour, Jack still had not asked you out. He thought about it often but never acted on it.

You two were in the Airbnb for his Minnesota stop and decided to watch the Friday movies. They were your favorite and you were so excited to watch them with Jack. Everyone else wanted to go out to check out a new hot club that opened up but you and Jack weren’t really all that interested. Out of the 9 people in the house total, you and Jack were the only ones who stayed back. Right as everyone was walking out the door Urban looked at y’all.

“Do not fuck on my bed.” He said sternly pointing his finger at Jack causing you to blush.

“Mine either!” Neelam yelled walking through the door and shutting it behind her.

You and Jack looked at each other nervously and then chuckled. That’s how awkwardness was with y’all and you loved it, you needed someone you could just laugh it off with.

After about the second movie you and Jack were nearly on top of one another. Jack looked down at you, the motion causing you to look up at him, and pressed his lips to yours. Somehow, the kiss got very heated with you sitting on top of his lap. Jack’s tongue battled with yours, not for dominance he had that and knew it. But more for who wanted who the most. You ground down on Jack earning a groan from him causing you to smile into the kiss as if you had won. As if Jack picked up on your cockiness he squeezed your ass while grinding you down on him causing a slight whimper to come from you. Jack smiled and pulled away.

“I won.” He smiled cockily before pulling off your shirt.

Jack loved every part of your body but he had never gotten to see it like this before. He was encapsulated by your looks. You removed yourself from his lap so you could remove the rest of your clothing while Jack did the same. Jack held you by your hand and guided you to sit back on his lap. The second you sink down, you both let needy whines escape. You bounce up and down on Jack, him guiding you with his hands on your ass. Jack admires how your boobs look so close to his face. He takes one and sucks on it lightly causing you to let on an almost pornographic moan. You reach in between the two of you and rub your clit slowly bringing you closer to your orgasm. Jack leans back and watches you feeling his own climax approach. After, a couple more bounces you and Jack both cum. Loud cries from both of you fill the room. You get off of his lap and sit on the couch next to him. He grabs the nearest blanket and wraps the two of you in it.

“When I say I’ve wanted to do that forever, I don’t mean have sex with you. I mean, I’ve wanted to let you know that I’ve wanted you since I met you. Not for your body, or because you’re always around. But, because you brought out a side of me that I never knew before I met you. I really really like you, y/n.” Jack confesses.

“I really really like you too, Jack.” You giggle out.

The boy shakes his head with a smile and kisses you.

“Be my girl?” He asks against your lips. You nod and smile against his.

“Yeah, I’ll be your girl.” You tell him reconnecting your lips together.

[seulszn]

ΚΕΦΑΛΑΙΟ I. The Island of Love and Purity.

“Aphrodite has blessed me with her beauty and I do nothing but thank her” you whisper to the women laying around listening to the new stories Petroula has to share on her adventure. “The Romans are at war again. My father told me that there are gonna be new people coming to the island as a safe haven” she spoke gracefully as if the news being said was good. That caused a uproar in the room full of girls

“Αυτό είναι απαίσιο!” (This is terrible)

“Ένας πόλεμος? Η κυρία Αθηνά βοήθησέ μας” (A war? Lady Athena help us)

“Ο Δίας σώσε μας όλους” (Zeus save us all)

Everyone is yelling back and forth not knowing what to do. “Alas it can’t be that bad!” you say with a small bit of confidence that you have. Everyone turns to you laying out on the floor with the purple Peplos covering only the bottom part of your body “I believe Y/N is right” Petroula answers back before reaching into something and pulling out a scroll.

She opens it before reading “It says that mothers, kids, and injured men will be coming to the island to stay out of the war happening on their island” she reads as a girl you know by the name Konstantina raises her soft hand “once the war is over will they be returning?” she asks as Petroula reads over the paper in hand. “It does not say” she answers once again and Konstantina groans.

You can feel her pain having to open up your home to people who have nowhere to go, no money, and no food all because of a war it was something you didn't imagine doing. “Imagine all the people we could meet!” Petroula brings up trying to change the mood Konstantina stays silent.

“All the different men, women that come here with gifts of gratitude,” she says, grabbing ahold of a woman right by her and smiling at her. “Imagine all the diseases they carry,” Korina says with narrowed eyes, scaring everyone. “But think about all the medicine we have that can cure” Petroula adds as Korina rolls her eyes. You don't say anything just thinking about what people you're gonna open your arms to. Stretching on the floor you look above at the morning sky “I hope whoever I get is nice and kind just like me” you whisper before laying up.

“Why such happy spirits Y/N? This does not scare you at all?” Kyveli asks looking over at you concerned “I am scared but if I wipe away that scariness with happy thoughts all my fear of what is going on goes away.” you smile getting up and wiping your Peplos clean “I wish I was like you Y/N” Petroula says as the woman crowded all around her nod. You smile at Petroula before looking over at a group of Guards and Police officers march over they are holding weapons and if your not mistaken you see your father in the front leading the crowd of men and women over to you they stop saluting

“Y/N my youngest daughter, what are you doing here?” he asks look at all the women around you he grabs ahold of your arm pulling you towards him. He scans down your face with a guess to check if you’re hurt and you turn your face away as he starts to kiss your face out of worry “Daddy I am ok just hanging out with Petroula and listening to her stories” he doesn't listen too worried about you. You're the youngest child and your parents are a lot more protective of you then they are of any of your other siblings. Your mother says that since you're blessed by Aphrodite the world isn't a safe place for a woman like you.

“I just want you to be safe that's all dear” your father answers with a smile on his chubby face you answer him with slight annoyance “I am safe father” he shakes his head no “you are not safe, none of us are their is a war going on and people are dying left and right” he says as the women behind you start to panic once again you don’t say anything, no you don’t know what to say so you just stay silent your father looks at your disappointed face before kissing your forehead “don’t worry so much dear your father will always protect you’ he stated before turning to his team and directing them away from the area.

Your father walks off except for a tall blued haired girl in a police uniform who looks over at you in familiarity and a small smile on her face. She's pretty cute you've seen her around polis (a city-state) a couple times before she's the Kiramman’s daughter her mother is a really good friend of your mother they teach children and help around the polis and her father was close to your father but you never knew or met their daughter mainly because of a “important mission” she was or went on. Through the two encounters that you guys had you thought she was really nice. She always smiles when you're around and always wants to be as close to you as possible.

She slowly walks over to you before stopping right in front of you. She bows her head in respect since you are her boss's daughter. You smile at her before fixing her shirt collar. She blushes at the kind gesture and thanks you. You smile turning to Petroula and seeing her and the other women pack up to leave “I was wondering if I can show you something” the Blue haired girl offers clutching onto your hand and slightly tugging you. The girl waits for your face to veer around to her so she can look at the eyes that she loves so very much.” Show me what?” you ask as the girl smiles before dragging you away she keeps your hand close as possible to her body looking around at the day that everybody is starting.

Waving at all the people you don't notice the girl staring at you. “What are you looking at?” you hum before she looks away out of embarrassment you giggle softly as she continues on the walk. She takes you to a nearby flower garden and lays down on the grassy plain and pats the ground right next to her initiating that she wants you to sit down, you obey sitting down. “I find it rude” you answer as she stares at you confused you smirk scooting over closer to her “I never got your name” you state as she avoids contact eye out of embarrassment. “Caitlyn- Caitlyn Kiramman” she introduces as you smile, finally having a name to a beautiful face.

“How is working with my father going?” you ask as Caitlyn shrugs her shoulders before laying back on the grass “he can be quite a handful” she answers as you nod in understanding your father can be very difficult to work with you don't understand how anybody can do it your father expects everyone to be perfect and is huge when it comes to competitions. Every race, every fight he expects his sons to be number one. “I thought this lifestyle would be so easy, fighting crime, arresting criminals, and making reports but it's probably one of the most toughest thing ever,” she says groaning “I should have taken my parent's advice and became A teacher,” she adds.

“Well I think you're doing a great job” you answer

“Y-Y-You think so?” she stutters choking on her words you laughing and bobbing your head “I mean no woman would ever pick to be a police officer so you're setting a good example for a lot of young women” Caitlyn smiles before drawing circles on your bare arm “just because you think I am doesn't mean everyone else thinks the same way” she stated “why care what other people think? Isn't your dreams more important than a thought someone has?” you answer laying down on your side facing the girl and hands under your face.

You enjoy the small talk you have with Caitlyn you never really had people out there you can talk too so this meant a lot to you and it meant so much to Caitlyn as well. She has a crush on you. She's never seen a woman so beautiful in her life. Will she ever tell you? maybe one day but right now she thinks it's only right to get to know you. “I might have to help out with the war happening on an Island nearby” Caitlyn trembled out of fear. You nod your head remembering “I hope nothing but a safe return” you wish as the girl nods her head.

“I'll come back safe and in your arms” she crooned caressing your face you smile melting into the touch “in my arms? We barely know each other silly” you giggle stretching out Caitlyn snickers before answering “we don't need to know each other to love and comfort each another” she's right you know she is but instead of agreeing you decide to tease her a little. “How do you know if I'm a comforting like person?” you ask as Caitlyn just stares at you not responding “I know you enough to trust you” she adds before sitting up and looking down at you. “Come with me I gotta show you something” Caitlyn says pulling you up and dragging you down the flower garden and to the edge of the island.

“When the war ends I wanna leave Lesbos and move to Rome” she points at a small island and you nod your head before a voice to the left of you speaks “Rome isn't so free like Lesbos your better off staying here” a pink-haired girl speaks walking over to you guys Caitlyn moves you a little closer to her body for protection as the girl throws her hands up in defense. “Have you been to Rome before?” you ask as the girl shakes her head.

“Just heard a lot about it” the girl answers back sitting down on a rock and looking at the waves clash with the shore you take in her appearance pink hair, tattoos and a small scratch on her lip “I've always wanted to go to Cyprus” she states looking up at the two of you guys you sit down besides her “I heard the people live rich” she spoke fixing her short Chiton. She smirks at herself “imagine living like that? Rich” She says as Caitlyn sits besides you and mumbles something under her breath. “After this war I wanna run away, far far away from here” the girl spoke, laying her head on your lap. “I'm Voiet but you can call me Vi” she introduces

“Like the flower”

“…Yea like the flower” she blushes, Caitlyn introduces herself to Vi as do you. The sound of the waves calms you down that you almost forget all the problems happening just being here makes you happy. “Do you guys believe in soulmates?” Vi asks as you nod your head, Caitlyn doesn't she just stares at the ocean “do you think there's a limit to how many people get a soulmate?” Caitlyn decides to focus on the conversation “I feel like if a group of people really feel that connection like a soulmate does then that makes them soulmates as well” you look down at Vi a girl you just met five minutes ago glancing up at you as if she has known you for years and years. “Do you think we are soulmates?” she asks as Caitlyn looks over at Vi.

“We just met, we can not be soulmates” Caitlyn replies before bringing you into her embrace “then why do I feel like we have known each other for years?” she responds “we do not even know each other's favorite color, and you are already bringing up this soulmate nonsense” Caitlyn scoffs.

My parents got married two weeks after they met each other” you put out as Vi and Caitlyn look at you. It's true your parents thought they were soulmates so they asked the gods above if marriage is something they should do and a day after that they had a wedding they always tell you that story and you find it to be cute “I don't believe in Marriage” Vi says as Caitlyn nods in agreement. “I believe in a promise” Vi comments “as in a promise ring?” Caitlyn questions as Vi nods her head. “I wanna make a promise, a promise that no matter what happens we will find our way back to each other no matter what” Vi states

You look up at the sky before smiling “I promise” Caitlyn doesn’t say anything too afraid that if she says those two words she might actually break that promise. She felt stupid making a promise to a girl she just met she was willing to risk her life for you but for Vi? That’s something she would have to think about and by the look of her she looks like trouble. She gets brought out of her thoughts by you placing your hand on her cheek “do you not promise?” You ask as Caitlyn shakes her head afraid of saying yes.

“I have to think about it”

“I have to think about it” Think? Think faster

“I have to think about it” Life’s are on the line

“I have to think about it” Why? Give them a answer before it’s too late

She has to think quickly cause at this very minute on a island people are dying, crying, starving, and begging for help. And your father is sending his soldiers off and he is looking for Caityln at this very moment to assign her a post for the war. Think Caitlyn Think if you don't give them a answer your gonna regret it “Come to my house for dinner and by then I should have my answer” she invites with a small fake smile on her face.

All rights reserved to the owner of this blog! Ⓒ︎ bellaxellie. You may translate and repost my works only with permission

[im-not-corrupted]

Part 1/6 of my merman Hob au (also on ao3 here!), of which I previously posted a snippet of here. Chapters two and three are half done so far so updates may take a bit? I’m not sure but we shall see!

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Merman!Hob, Human Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, the fantasy is very vague but like. mermaids., Dream of the Endless | Morpheus has Depression, Grief/Mourning, deals with the death of Orpheus, and Dream and Calliope's divorce, Brief suicidal ideation, Near Death Experiences, Drowning, Touch-Starved Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, POV Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Arranged Marriage, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Saves Hob Gadling, Developing Friendships

—————

The first time Morpheus de Endeles steps foot on a ship, it is with the intention of sailing to his wife’s homeland—the place of her birth, the place her parents rule, the place their son once knew far greater than he does now.

Ex wife, that is. They are no longer married now, because he had thoroughly ruined whatever the two of them had. The divorce had been a swift affair, and he is glad for it, despite the uproar it caused amongst his parent’s court and the disappointment his parents expressed in the face of such disaster. Last they saw one another, Calliope’s parting words had been scathing things, weapons made to kill and maim and cause the most damage possible while doing so.

She hates him now. This he acknowledges distantly as he steps on board the ship, feeling a little like he walks towards his own death. More than once, he bore witness to the end of a criminal’s life with the distinct impression that justice had been served, brutally and efficiently. Now he wonders if this is how they felt, facing their own end.

A bleak thought to start the trip off on, but that seems appropriate. If the knowledge of Calliope’s hatred for him is a distant thing, that is only because his mind remains occupied by other recent events. Namely, his son’s death.

The first time Morpheus de Endeles boards a ship, he does so with the intention of sailing to his son’s funeral.

Calliope insisted—over letters, written in elegant, swooping hand that did nothing to hide the sharp edges to her words—that Orpheus be buried in her homeland. And though the knowledge of her hatred is a distant thing, and has been since she spoke her last parting words, there was room inside him even then for the ache that arose as he read that letter. 

There was more than enough room inside him for the guilt, too. There still is. You sent our son off to his death, Calliope hissed at him. This, he knows, is true. It is a different kind of agony, this knowledge. To know his son is dead is one thing. To be the one to blame, to have Orpheus’s blood stain his hands however indirectly—well, that is another thing entirely.

It was also this knowledge that prompted him to grant his past wife this wish and agree that Orpheus should be buried in her homeland. It was, he figures, the least he could do. He had subjected her to the same pain that currently sits inside his chest, an agony he thinks he won’t be rid of for as long as he lives. If this would soothe some of that agony for her, then he will gladly make that sacrifice for her.

On this ship is Telute, too. As Morpheus stands by the railing, looking out at the sea and the sky with a sense of detachment he has not felt since dear Del’s death, she stands beside him. She is dressed similarly to him, in mourning regalia. This is not so different to either of their typical styles—black suits them both well, and they each prefer the darker, drearier colours to those Epithumia tends to don.

She places a gentle hand on his shoulder. It is a comforting weight. His shoulders bow underneath it. He does not deserve this comfort—She is dead, he told Orpheus, unsympathetic as he wept for his lost love Eurydice, and yet you live. So live.—but he is a greedy thing, and therefore does not push her away.

She does not speak. She does not move away, either. Not as the sails are raised, commands shouted across the deck of the ship. Not as they begin to leave the harbour, and any sense of familiarity. She remains there, standing beside him, in a show of solidarity as the ship begins to move.

The swaying motion leaves him feeling ill. He pushes it down insistently. It is a feeling he must bear—a punishment, for all he has brought upon both his own family and Calliope. The disappointment in Nyx’s eyes, the rage in Cronos’s, and Calliope’s final words are not things he is likely to forget. He holds them close to his chest, a reminder of his own failures and regrets. Perhaps this way, he will not make them again.

A foolish thought, that. He has always been particularly resistant to the idea of change.

”It’ll be alright,” Telute tells him softly.

It is not a comfort. He nods stiffly anyway.

The two siblings remain standing for a while, silent and still as statues, and the feeling of dread doesn’t leave him for the duration of the trip.

+++

It is a quiet affair, the funeral. The hushed air, the grief that seems to live in it, do not disguise the looks he receives from both Calliope and her sisters. They hate him too. He does not begrudge them this, and tries his best to ignore them.

They are not his concern. His concern is Orpheus—his dear son, whose eyes were the same lovely brown as Calliope’s, whose raven hair curled at the nape of his neck. Orpheus was a joy, with a grin made for laughter and a voice made for singing. His affinity for music made things all the brighter back at home—there was no way to be miserable, even under the shadow of his parents, when Orpheus sang or played the lute. It was his own joy that made it so lovely, Morpheus thinks. It had been infectious. He had been made for music, and that became apparent with every string he plucked and note he hit.

This reminder made the funeral all the more painful. It is spent mostly in silence, broken only by the weeping of immediate family members and speeches made by Orpheus’s Calliope’s family. Not himself—he adamantly refuses when Calliope offers him the chance. It disappoints her, he sees it in her face, but how is he supposed to put words to the grief he felt over his son’s death? How is he supposed to speak and remain composed while reliving the death of one he loves more than he has loved anything or anybody before?

The silence is a mournful thing, sorrowful and weighing heavy. He thinks, for a moment, that he should’ve liked to hear Orpheus play at least once more before his death.

He does not cry. He is too scraped raw for that, for tears to come to his eyes. (Later, Calliope admonishes him about it. They are the last two standing before his grave, the sight o the name Orpheus carved into his headstone a knife in his chest. You did not even cry, she murmurs, her voice a terribly brittle thing. And Morpheus stands there and wishes he could turn back time, that the names they were given meant something more than abstract concepts. You do not even care.) He wants to cry. He wants to shed tears over his son’s death, to rage and agonise and scream at the sky. It all seems terribly unfair.

Telute remains by his side. Their arms are interlocked, now, his sister’s hand on his arm, and he is glad for her. For the steady, comforting presence she offers—for the ability to lean on her, to let himself succumb to despair while she remains the strong one. He has always looked up to Telute, to his dear sister Death, and he is more grateful than he thinks he can ever put into words for the fact that she didn’t leave him to face this by himself. He does not know if he would’ve coped otherwise.

She leaves him eventually, as those gathered begin to disperse. “You should say your own goodbyes,” she tells him, head tilting towards Orpheus’s new grave. Calliope sits before it, a motionless study of sorrow and mourning.

She is wise, dear Telute. He knows this. He knows this well. Always, she has had the answers, the right words to say. She is right about this, too.

But he stares after Calliope and yearns. Yearns to reach out, to offer a comforting hand on her shoulder or his own shoulder to cry on. Neither of those are things she will welcome. He does not blame her for this, but the yearning does not follow any kind of logic he knows of. They are nothing now, their relationship little more than ashes between them. His memories of their time together is soured by grief, by frustration and rage aimed at this entire damned situation, the hopelessness he feels so keenly.

He loves her still. Would offer her comfort despite it all, if he knew she’d accept it.

”I should,” he agrees softly. He doesn’t move. He isn’t sure he can. Grief has made his heart a cold, hardened thing. He is chilled with it, his blood like ice in his veins.

Telute offers him a terribly sympathetic look. It grates on him, makes him clench his jaw. He does not need pity.

Yet he would not dare say such a thing to his sister, and so she ignores the affronted expression he knows he wears and urges, “Go.”

He does. Calliope speaks to him only once, and it is as painful as the funeral itself. (I care, he wants to tell her. He wants to scream it, wants to make sure she knows. I care. He was my son, too.) She leaves him standing by their son’s grave.

He does not cry even then. He leaves a flower atop the gravestone instead, knowing it will be a while until he sees it again, and returns to Telute. (His eyes sting as they make their way back to their accommodations. He cries then. A single tear, but it is something.)

+++

The second time Morpheus de Endeles boards a ship, it is to return to his own homeland. It is to turn his back on his son, on the woman he once called wife and still loves as one despite her thorough abandonment of her. (There is a slowly rising anger there, too, as he thinks of her hardened eyes, once so gentle, as she accused him of not caring. Does she not know him better than that? Did their five years of marriage amount to nothing, for her to know him so little?)

It is also to face his first storm at sea, and to nearly drown.

It happens after a week and a half on the sea. They are nearly home, the captain tells him. He is a prideful thing, this captain, sure of himself and his abilities. I have not steered this ship wrong before, my Lord, he says, and this is enough for Morpheus, who only wishes to return to his home and immerse himself in the library so he might escape the horror of the last couple of months. He finds himself too tired to ask further questions, and simply leaves to return to his own cabin. His body has mostly acclimated to sea travel now—his stomach no longer feels like it is about to betray him at any given moment, and he is able to walk steadily.

A day later, they are hit by a storm.

It is a brutal, savage thing. At first, it is just the rain—the sky opens up above them to drench them in rain, the event so sudden it comes as a surprise. The skies were overcast before this, yes, but not bad enough for a storm so terrible, surely.

The sudden winds rip at them fiercely. The tides, which had been gentle for their journey so far, turn violent, larger than he ever imagined the sea capable of. His own fault, that—there are many stories about the brutality of the ocean, the fury that hides within its depths. He simply forgot about them, distracted by the beauty of the sun glistening on its calmer waves and the knowledge of why he stands atop a ship on the sea. He chose to see the beauty instead of the danger—he knows, in that moment, that he will not do the same a second time.

If he lives to see a second time. He is suddenly unsure he will—both sea water and rain drenches the deck. The crew hurries to obey the captain’s shouted, panicked orders, only just heard over the roaring winds. The ship tips and rocks and sways precariously. Morpheus grips onto the railing, tight enough his palms ache, and finds himself filled with a loud, insistent fear.

People die in the ocean all the time. The sea is not kind—it is full of rage and it is vengeful, determined to drown those who try to conquer it. He knows this. He knows this and yet he had let himself be distracted. And now he will die here, so soon after his son’s own death.

It is not that idea that terrifies him. Death does not scare him. He does not think it ever has. He believes not in any kind of afterlife—death, he believes, is simply nothing. To die is to no longer exist. There is beauty in that, he thinks. He is tired of existing already, and the grief that only swells within him makes that exhaustion all the more unbearable.

He does fear for his sister, though. His sister, whose eyes shine brightly, who treated his son kindly. Who had been there for him during his younger years, when misery clung to him like a parasite and sucked him dry of all desire for life. She does not understand him properly and often says the wrong things, but Morpheus doesn’t think that’s the point. She tries. She cares, offering him soft, fond smiles that are sometimes exasperated. She loves him, and even made this journey for him.

He thinks she does not deserve to die. He thinks, too, that he would do any number of things to ensure she makes it out.

There are shouts on the air, growing more urgent by the second. This is, surely, proof that this storm is far stronger than the rest of them, and he grits his teeth. Insistently, he surveys the crew as they rush back and forth, only—only he cannot see Telute anywhere. She doesn’t seem to be on the main deck, or perhaps he isn’t looking hard enough. The ship rocks and sways and his stomach lurches with it—he is not used to so much violent movement, and it is distracting.

But he steels his spine and stumbles across the deck, shouting as loud as he can, “Telute!”

”My Lord,” somebody says behind him, and he whirls—too fast, for his stomach lurches and he fears then that he will throw up, which would certainly be a reaction to have here and now—to find Lucienne standing behind him, her expression panicked and concerned. “My Lord, we must get you onto one of the boats.”

”No,” he denies immediately. The worst of his nausea dissipates but his voice still feels weak. He looks past Lucienne, ignoring the rain drenching his clothes and his face and his hair, and tries desperately to find Telute. “No. I must—I must find my sister.”

”My Lord, Jessamy is looking for her,” Lucienne informs him. When he returns his attention to her face, there is a quiet devastation there, and he regrets how harshly he spoke to her. She is a patient advisor, dear Lucienne. She does not deserve his harshness. Not now and not ever. “You must come with me now.”

He would trust Jessamy with his life, if it came to that. There is nobody more steadfast, nobody more loyal, than her. If she searches for Telute, there is little chance that she will stop until she inevitably finds her. Her stubborn streak runs bright, as does her loyalty to the Royal Family.

It is enough to inspire relief. Enough to make his shoulders slump for a moment—and as he says, “Very well,” he sees Jessamy escort a rather worried-looking Telute, who glances over her shoulder frantically, desperately. She will be safe, then.

“This way, my Lord,” Lucienne urges him, and he makes to follow.

He takes nothing more than a single step before the ship crests another wave violently, the winds driving them in the wrong direction, and it suddenly tips.

There is nothing for him to grab immediately, save Lucienne. Only, as he loses his footing and watches as Lucienne quickly regains hers, he doesn’t think that would be fair. If he falls—and he is, he realises belatedly, he is falling and falling and the violent, beautiful sea has never seemed quite so close—if he falls, he knows he would only drag her down with him. He is unaccustomed to this, to being upon the sea like so. He was not made for this. He was made for a throne to sit beside his parents’, and then beside his elder brother when his time eventually comes, just like the rest of their siblings. If not that, then marriage to another kingdom, to keep their ties strong, to keep trades between countries going. His fate was never supposed to be this.

He loses his footing and he falls and there is railing behind his back, digging in, and panic flares inside his chest. The ship is righted quickly, only to be assaulted again, and he does not cling tightly enough to the railing behind him to stop himself from falling overboard.

Then he is in the ocean. It is frigid, freezing, and he gasps loudly when he breaks the surface. It is the kind of cold that could seep through to bone, that could freeze him all the way through until he is nothing but ice.

He never really learned how to swim properly, but he knows enough to keep himself afloat. The winds whip his hair, soaked through with rain and sea water both, into his face, and he is not sure how he can make it out of this. The ship he fell from is being pushed away from him, the winds terrifyingly strong, despite efforts of the crew and the captain. With some deep-rooted instinct, he tries to swim forward, cursing inwardly at himself and his younger mind’s insistence on finding pleasure in things other than his lessons.

For a moment, it seems like he may be capable of making it back. It seems like he could truly do it, could make it close enough to the ship they could help him back up, or close enough they might be able to pull him back up.

Then a wave crests behind him, shadowing him, a great, looming giant, and falls atop him without a care in the world.

He is pulled under the surface of the ocean and holds his breath intently. It is dark down there. The sea pushes him from seemingly every direction, with the same ferocity as the storm, and try as he does to push against the currents, he is unable to do much at all. The surface remains terribly distant, and that distance seems suddenly insurmountable. He knows, with abrupt and perfect clarity, that he is not making it out of there.

Morpheus de Endeless does not often contemplate death. Not truly.

There are thoughts, of course, that sneak past his own defences. They boil down to this: If I were to die today, I do not think I would mind. Ultimately, that is easy to ignore, to push away. He does not truly want to die, the way he knows some people do. He has his duties to his family, after all. He simply would not mind if death caught him in its clutches.

Now, with his lungs burning and his frantic struggles against the damned ocean proving futile, he thinks this may be preferable. Beneath all the pain of oxygen deprivation as he stubbornly refuses to try to take in a breath only to swallow the ocean into his lungs lies the grief, the ache, the knowledge that he so thoroughly ruined everything good he somehow managed to make his own. His Calliope. His Orpheus. His loves. One hates him now. The other is buried in the ground at only nineteen, hardly an adult and far too young to lose. His parents’ disappointment is an easy thing to conjure up in his mind, and he hates that just as much as he does his losses. What is there left for him, above the surface? At home?

When he frames it like that, he thinks—he thinks it would not be so terrible to face death. He thinks it might be better than rising another day only to remember his son is gone, to see another sunset and acknowledge the fact that Orpheus will not get to see one again.

When he thinks about it like that, it is remarkably easy to stop struggling. Involuntarily, he tries to suck in a breath only to choke on ocean water, and now he is stuck in an endless cycle of pain as he slowly drowns. His head feels…fuzzy, his vision full of little black spots. Distantly, he knows this isn’t good. Knows if he doesn’t do something, he will not make it out of this alive.

He does not want to. The ocean is not violent, he realises now. It is kind, and offers him a reprieve as his body slowly sinks, weighed down by the rich fabrics he wears, as his vision grows hazy and dark and keeping his eyelids open seems like an insurmountable task.

Before he closes them properly, he thinks—he thinks he sees something in the water. A figure, moving towards him. A person, perhaps, only—only that looks like a fish’s tail, fins and all.

Then his eyes fall shut, blocking out everything around him, and he loses himself to the void and the cold and the blissful, welcoming nothing that waits for him beyond.

+++

He awakes with a gasping, heaving breath. His lungs are greedy things, sucking in air with desperation, and he presses a hand to his chest. Beneath his palm, his heart races. Adrenaline and panic both fill his veins and his hand shakes. His lungs feel full, but as he coughs mostly involuntarily, nothing comes up.

It takes a bit for him to calm down. When he does, when his lungs stop heaving and he stops coughing and he is left with nothing but an ache in his lungs, his head and a rawness in his throat, he looks around himself.

He sits on a beach, the sands golden and kissed by the sun. It shines down on him, blessing his face with its light. His clothes are soaked through and no doubt ruined, and before him—before him is the ocean.

It holds none of the fierceness he saw earlier, and he stares at it blankly. It looks as welcoming, as lovely, as it did the day he stepped on board the ship. His mind had been occupied then, yes, but he had enough awareness to acknowledge the sea’s beauty.

Not enough awareness to acknowledge its dangers, though. He remembers in startling clarity the coldness of its waters, the ferocity with which it drowned him, the storm that waged and threw him overboard.

He should’ve been more careful.

It is not just the ocean that lies before him, he realises after a moment, but a man, too. A man, staring at him with honey-eyes that catch the sunlight as though they were made for it, with a curiosity on his face that, if it weren’t for the sudden anxiety twisting his all-too empty stomach, would’ve endeared him immediately. His skin is tan, golden like the sands, and some distant part of his brain wants to press his lips to that skin and find out what it tastes like for himself. Like ocean salt and sweat and the sun itself, he thinks, and then considers the possibility that he may have suffered some brain damage due to oxygen deprivation.

It takes him a bit to find his voice. During that time, the man—sitting in the ocean as though he belongs there, ignorant of its gentle waves lapping at him—continues to stare, head tilted like a particularly curious bird.

“Who are you?” Morpheus asks, wincing at the hoarseness of his throat. It feels scraped raw, and he thinks he would like to simply not speak for a while, only—only this is rather strange, isn’t it?

The man’s shoulders shake with laughter. He is a beautiful creature, this man, with chestnut hair framing his joyful face. Laughter, and amusement, becomes him. Distantly, Morpheus is aware that he should probably take offence at the man’s laughter, only—only he doesn’t really have the energy. If anything, he thinks he’d much rather sleep. “The one who saved you, obviously. Or did you forget you nearly drowned?"

He has half a mind to scowl at the strange man in the water, but only just has enough energy to narrow his eyes. "You saved me," he repeats dumbly. In his defence, he did nearly drown, and sleep calls to him now, an alluring song. Nearly drowning is, apparently, rather exhausting. "We were in the middle of the ocean. We weren't even close to any land. How did you—"

Come to think of it, he can't recall whether he has seen this man's face before. Though perhaps that's explained easily. He was distracted on the ship, after all, and it wasn't like he went out of the way to remember the entire crew. Both Telute and Lucienne always said he should try to interact with people a little more than he does, but he thinks recent events made him exempt from that rule these last few months.

Still. The man's statement doesn't really make sense. They were in the middle of an ocean, and in a storm no less. It would've been impossible for the man to save him then, at least not without a boat or ship of his own.

Thinking of it makes his head hurt more. For a moment he feels ready to simply shrug and accept the nonsensical answer as truth in the hopes that maybe the man would leave him to rest. Logically, he knows that isn't what will happen at all. If this man knows who Morpheus is, if he recognises him, then there will be some kind of demand. A boon for saving Prince Morpheus de Endeles’s life.

He can't do anything about that now, though, and the idea of laying on this beach and letting himself wither under the sun's heat seems very appealing. He doesn't even know where they are, or how close he is to his kingdom. How he's supposed to make it back in this condition, he doesn't know. The task seems impossible, in all honesty.

The man does not leave him to rest, not even when Morpheus simply nods stiffly and says, "Sure. Saved me. Alright." He remains in the ocean actually, the waves lapping at his torso, and continues to stare at him expectantly as though waiting for something more. Eventually, he rolls his eyes—Rude, Morpheus thinks, but hardly cares in the moment–and moves a little closer. It looks almost like the ocean parts for him, but that's ridiculous.

Then—well, then things get even stranger. Which also seems impossible, but—there they are. The man shifts in the water and brings what looks like a tail out of the ocean, all golden scales and fins. Beautiful, he thinks, knowing he's staring but unable to help it. Of course the man's tail would be golden. That only makes sense when the rest of him could've been carved from sunlight.

A little belatedly, he realises just what he's staring at. Which is the man, who has a fish's tail instead of legs.

Hallucinating. He is hallucinating, then. That makes sense. Still, he can't help but laugh quietly—it makes him wince, his lungs still raw and tender, but the pain is temporary and certainly doesn't matter much if he's hallucinating—and says, "You're a merman."

The statement is ludicrous. Morpheus wonders just how much damage nearly drowning can do to a person, and then figures he doesn't want to know at all, actually.

"That is what you call us, yes," the man agrees easily.

Sure. Why not? "Why did you save me then?"

He shrugs softly. “Too pretty for death,” the—the merman, of all things, tells him. It sounds almost petulant.

He is losing his mind. He had swallowed a lot of water. A merman. “One can be too pretty for death?” he asks weakly, his throat hoarse and his chest tight with pain. The ridiculous nature of the question at least makes that pain easy to ignore. It will get him later, he knows that much, but he lets himself be distracted by his amusement at the situation for a while.

The merman blinks at him, expression ever-serious. “You are.”

”Right.” Right. Of course. Too pretty for death. That makes sense. As much sense as a merman fishing him out of the water does, anyway.

Whatever energy allowed him to carry this conversation leaves him suddenly and he falls onto his back on top of the sand, his elbows failing to hold him up any longer. The sun glares down at him and he gazes back up at it blearily. Exhaustion clings to him just as the beach does to his sea-soaked clothes. Sleep seems like a wonderful, bright idea.

He let his eyes fall shut. It isn't very effective for blocking out the sun’s rays—it remains insistent, and closing his eyes doesn't give him the satisfaction of darkness that he dearly wants. Still, while that would’ve been a problem any other time, his body yearns for the void, to let the dark take him. It would be easy to simply lay here and wither, until either the tide takes him or someone finds him. Whichever comes first. He doesn’t mind either way.

Then the merman speaks again. “Are you dying, pretty one?”

It takes a great deal of effort, but he grunts, “No.”

”Are you sure?”

He is not, actually. But that is no concern of this mermaid, and he merely answers, “I am certain.”

Silence follows that statement. Morpheus lets himself relax, lets himself hope this is it. He can sleep now, he thinks, and the thought is almost blissful—and then he is quickly proven wrong, for the merman states, “You look like you’re dying. Does anybody look for you?”

He hardly cares. Distantly, though, he thinks Lucienne might be. Jessamy and Matthew, too, maybe. “Perhaps,” he says after a couple of minutes pass, when he realises he has not yet replied. "I would like to sleep now."

The merman makes a considering noise. "I do not know much about humans," he says slowly, and Morpheus can practically feel the concern in his voice now, "but I'm pretty sure that's a bad idea. I'll stay and talk to you until you're found."

"Must you?" he asks, a desperate edge to his voice. The merman's voice is pleasant enough, yes, but rest is the preferred option here, regardless of what he says.

"Yes," he confirms. Morpheus's eyes are still closed so he can't actually see but he can imagine the smile on his face easily enough.

He sighs heavily and wonders what he did to deserve this. Then figures this is some weird, twisted kind of punishment for all that happened with Orpheus and Calliope and resigns himself to his fate. "Very well."

The merman talks, almost endlessly, until the sun is low in the sky. It is truly an impressive amount of talking. Morpheus doesn't remember much of that afternoon. At some point, he regains just enough energy to sit up, to listen more attentively. The merman, whose name he doesn't learn, seems to appreciate that. And just when despair begins to eat at him—I will not be found, he thinks and despite his inaction while he sank into the ocean, the idea panics him, I will die on this beach—there are calls of his name from behind him. They are voices he recognises and his heart picks up its pace when he turns around to see Lucienne, Telute and Jessamy walking down the beach towards him, each of them looking a little rough but all of them alive.

When he turns back to the ocean, the merman is no longer there, and Morpheus wonders if he dreamt the whole thing up. He does not mention it as Jessamy helps him to his feet, as Telute pulls him in for a hug, as the three of them begin to make it back home, to their duties, but he does not forget the kind eyes of the man who saved him from death at the hands of the ocean.

[phanhlee]

~First sight~

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(This is a commission. Both I and the writer are not English speakers so there could be mistakes. However, this is the story I want to share, story about a devil in disguise and a devilish judge (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡)

Tag: Claude Frollo x male!oc

His name is Helzon, Helzon Sullivan.

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Even when he was crushing gypsies with the sole of his shoes like they were nothing but mere bugs, Claude Frollo still believed he was never in the wrong. If anything, he’d only have to worry about dirtying his outfit. But the archdeacon couldn’t possibly cloud his thoughts with such mundane matters. He had been tasked with jobs that overlooked the entire archdiocese of Paris. As one who belonged to God’s land, he’d wish the challenges he gave to humans could slightly stop being so tedious. Carrying himself properly along the streets of Paris, Claude held his head high in pride and dignity. Throughout the streets of this archdiocese, his presence was hailed like that of a ruler.

Humans, vile as they are, were born with their sins weighing on them. Only those who want to repent at God’s feet shall receive his salvation, and this of course did not apply to the Parisien who just caused a commotion in one of the most crowded places of this archdiocese. Claude had to be as careful as he could, so as not to stomp on any bystanders with Snowball the horse. He didn’t want blood on his hands anyway.

Today, the uproar was caused by a lowly thief, who was said to be an orphan who lived in the slums among the dirtiest waste. Claude’s nose could barely contain the foul smell of peasants, but it was his duty to reprimand the thief. Chasing the criminal throughout the streets of Paris with the guards going before him, Claude silently cursed his luck. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for the men of the church to capture their prey. The boy, who dared to lay his filthy hands on a piece of white bread, was cornered by Claude’s stern and calculating eyes. Injustice, he thought. The poor are always the cause of misdeeds in this city. No matter how many charities and donations are made for them, they would go back to their roots as lazy, unapologetic men who will not work a day as long as they can still play under the sun. More than once, have they been late with the payment of their taxes; being an establishment for worshiping God, the church literally had no means of income, and they had to rely on taxes. The nobles were too busy partying, and Claude had no interest in bothering those bluffing, blithering idiots. As he was busy chasing down and correcting those who called themselves God’s children undeservingly, an unexpected presence appeared in the corner of his eyes. He was standing in the way of Snowball, so Claude had to try his best to calm the horse down, so as not to stomp on him and cause an unwanted casualty. Even though everyone around him was scurrying around the busy marketplace, the man with cold silver eyes remained in his place. Calm but deep, his gaze was like the Seine flowing throughout Paris, but it was somehow piercing at the same time. As if his air was taken from him, Claude Frollo had to steady his breath, but that didn’t help much as the other figure towered over him. Determined to make himself look like he could stand a chance against the much bigger man, Claude frowned, his brows furrowed deep. With his cold and unforgiving voice, he demanded:

“Speak, brute. What makes you think you have the right to stand here? You’re in the way.”

The bloke, however, didn’t budge. His eyes intently stared, as if his gaze could match a thousand blades piercing through anyone who dared to look directly at him. It was a different kind of look from anything Claude had gotten used to. He seemed to be far from the other low-life Parisiens, but in the end the man could be anything but different from the crowd that Claude had so much disdain for. A sonorous voice, deep as the ocean, commanding like the voice of a god, grumbled from the man’s stomach. One may even think he was not used to speaking. Only a few precise, meticulous words came out from him, that Claude could have sworn they sounded like “monsieur de Paris”.

A gentleman of Paris, was what he called himself. A foreign-looking man, who did not fear the gaze of Judge Claude Frollo, who stood tall in the presence of the authorities. Oh how Claude despised this defying bloke who thought of himself to be greater than others! Arrogance was one of the greater sins for men to bear, and yet this person who didn’t even want to speak of his name was full of it. With a cane in his hand, Claude lifted his chin up. But his cane slipped, hitting him in the face. It appeared as though the man’s eyes narrowed in a heartbeat, but it was probably just Claude’s illusion. Somehow, it terrified him, even though his gesture towards Claude showed no malevolent intention. Quickly, he left, leaving Claude speechless with his henchman trying to get him back to his senses.

“I want to know… who that vile bloke is. Who does he even think he is, daring to oppose me like that.”

Back in the chapel of the Notre Dame, Claude tried to keep his composure as he ordered his underling to do his deeds. The trusted henchman scurried away with his orders. Alone in the chapel, Claude walked around impatiently. He could’ve sworn he borne nothing but disdain towards the bastard, but something different had sparked in him.

“My Lord, I have returned.”

“Then tell me, boy… what do you know about him?”

“From what I’ve managed to gather, his name is Helzon Sullivan.”

“That sounds quite foreign. Do you know where he came from? Corsica, is it?”

“Sir… It doesn’t seem to be Corsica. I asked all over, there was little to no information about him.”

“Really? What is he doing in Paris?”

“It remains a mystery still, sir. He does not seem to disclose his personal life to anyone, nor does he get close to any citizen. Oh but, it is quite likely that he is a soldier, who had made himself a frequent customer at the grand tavern.”

Indulgence, Claude thought. A grave sin of men. He specifically sought God’s light of guidance because he did not want to fall under the sinful ways most men indulge themselves in. Women, alcohol, money,… all temptations are earthly bonds that imprison one’s spiritual being to the earth, bringing them closer to hell than to God’s kingdom.

“So he… is a drunkard, you say?”

“On the contrary, sir. He could control himself very well, and he is… popular with the ladies. Though, it seemed like he only frequented such places for some drinking activities, not for the purpose of… coitus.”

“That, I did not need to hear. You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Claude did not realize he was taking his first steps into his own hell. Instead of ignoring the peculiar man, Claude found himself drawn to him. Nothing but fate’s cruel grand scheme bound them together. Just as the archdeacon thought he had escaped his silvery eyes’ grasp, he happened to see the brute again.

It was Lent when their next encounter happened. This time, he was donning a military uniform, standing alongside other brutes. That was just like the information that the judge received from his henchman. But as Claude was watching him on the way down from the belltower of Notre Dame, he seemed to be in a hurry. It was probably orders from the higher-ups that forced his presence to be at the archdiocese, guarding the church for this occasion. All the while, the archdeacon went on about his day, as usual. Or that was how he made it seem. Claude played his role perfectly, but that was his job. The people of God cannot rest well if they knew their leader was unwell. In the confines of the glass windows, he stood to catch a glimpse of the silver-eyed man. The way his wavy black hair draped over his shoulder was bewitching, and although Claude called him “brute”, the way he moved was far from that. His elegance reminded him of a noble, and he was sure that eye color was also very uncommon for vermin to have. Sure, he’d seen his fair share of dirty grey eyes like a mouse’s coat, but this was pure silver.

The brute, whose surname Claude remembered to be “Sullivan”, stayed guarding Notre Dame for about a week until Lent was over.

Claude did not realize he was deliberately looking for the man at every turn of the corner. But he did, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. The hellfire was scorching through his veins, burning away every last bit of his being. Alas! For a man of God to bear such thoughts with another man, he was to be punished. Going against God’s will was unthinkable for him. He should not lay with another man, per the holy words of the bible. His mind was once pure, unclouded by lustful thoughts. But in the shadows of this wretched man, he was obsessed. As he took a peek into his own reflection in the mirror, Claude was horrified to find himself changed beyond his imagination. His ashy gray hair framing his face, sunken eyes of a clergyman who’d devoted all his life to serve God that he even neglected his health. At least, he didn’t neglect the task of grooming. But Claude was conscious that he had become unrecognizable from the image of himself that he’d drawn in his head, every morning as he opened his eyes and led the way for Catholic Parisians like a bunch of loyal dogs who tremble in fear in his presence. He was not loved, but feared. Right. That ugly, wretched, poor Quasimodo probably feared him as well.

....

But the man with those silvery, mercury-like eyes that could pierce through one’s heart was… different. He did not fear him. That alone had made him stand out from the rest of the crowd, apart from his astonishing height of course. He was immovable, like the pillars that held the establishment Claude was standing on. Hecouldn’t forget about him, even if he tried to. He’d imagined the devil residing in a gypsy’s heart, and in the hearts of sinners, unsightly preposterous sinners. The man he’d seen carried himself with an air of poise and grace so rare that Claude could swear he’d only seen a handful of those people throughout his miserable life. No one had ever dared to oppose Claude, let alone planting the seeds of eros in him. How could I be led astray by that tramp, Claude thought to himself.

Unless, that was his salvation, sent by God?

Claude couldn’t do anything but pray. He prayed and prayed, asking God for peace of mind. At a point where this self-righteous man had found himself to be shaken by the thoughts of another man, he felt as if the ground under his feet could crumble at any time. Claude had never thought of serving or devoting himself to anyone other than God, ever since he was a young pastor, an inquisitor, a church boy. His life had been all for the Bible studies, for his acts of service for God and Mother Mary, who looked at him from high up above. He had never had a taste of love and affection with another person of his peers. Climbing his way up the hierarchy of the grand church was an unforgiving process that allowed him no friends. Allies, yes, probably, but everyone aimed for their own good in this world. He was used to being alone, fighting his battles by himself.

But it was precisely his loneliness that triggered the downfall in Claude’s image of the perfect man, one that he crafted for him to aim for. The imaginary hands on his shoulders of Helzon Sullivan were warmer than anything he’d ever felt. It made Claude’s entire body shivered in a sense of unwanted joy and shameful yearning. He did not want to yield himself to desires - Claude Frollo was known to have a mind of steel. But just with these thoughts, he was already deeper in this painful yearning more than he ever wished to.

Alone in the chapel of Notre Dame, Claude stared outside, dreading. The clouds have pulled themselves down like dark, thickened cobwebs covering the sky. A storm was coming, and it was coming his way.

(me too lazy to color or draw a new one so I'm gonna an old one)

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

Whumptober Day 29: Defiance

I’ve been really excited about this one! It’s based on the Tiny AU by @rainyfroggy! It’s kind of just waxing philosophical about ideals and setting up for ~something~ at the end, but I had fun writing it~

---

He was in a very strange situation right now, where black and white had started so distinct and were quietly suffusing into a swirling maelstrom of grey.

In one sense, he was Ingo. He remembered being Ingo, thought of himself as just a part of his missing whole, and felt exactly the way he knew Ingo would. But, damningly, he also had memories of being created, of Arceus pulling him and-- of pulling him fully-formed from the ether and giving him a purpose. Humans didn’t have that.

On a fundamental level, he couldn’t be Ingo. Size discrepancies aside, Ingo was older than Emmet by three minutes, whereas he and his own twin had been crafted simultaneously.

He was Ingo, but he wasn’t. He was human, but he registered as a Pokemon. He was here to curb Emmet’s ambition, but he was also meant to take care of him. It couldn’t all be done at once.

Lately, it seemed like he’d been falling short every single one of those criteria-- but mostly the last ones. Emmet clocked the lies he told both of them as he tried to keep them chugging along, he no longer confided in him or took the time to pursue his training pet project, and actively shut him out for long nights of research and planning, preventing any wellness checks from so much as leaving the station.

It was hard. In this sense, he was still Ingo, and Ingo would have been incredibly hurt by the behavior. He loved Emmet, wanted the best for him, but the only thing he wanted was what Ingo had been created specifically to prevent.

How was he meant to stifle such a strong ideal when his being burned for nothing less than to foster it?

He lied, yes, but never to hinder. Late night snacks and reminders to rest were meant as maintenance, not distractions. He wished so dearly that he could solve the problem for Emmet, so his-- brother?-- could stop tearing himself and, potentially, the universe apart.

It wasn’t his place to judge, but wasn’t he meant to question? To challenge anything-- be it human, Pokemon or concept-- to find its highest state? Its best self?

Because-- because he couldn’t help but wonder. The real Ingo and Emmet had spent their entire lives together, and now his presence was necessitated because Arceus had separated them, but the bond between them held fast. He knew he also had a twin, but had caught little more than a glimpse before they were sent their separate ways. Had that, too, been part of Arceus’s plan? If he’d been given the opportunity to meet his other half, would he be just as desperate to reunite with him?

There were times it was all so overwhelming. The world was so much bigger than him: a vast, white space of infinite possibility, and he a deep black seed with a singular purpose. It was during those moments that he hoped beyond hope that he really was Ingo, if only a small piece. Maybe it would all make sense once put into proper perspective.

For now, though, he had a task, and Emmet was not making it simple.

Emmet’s door had been locked again, and no amount of uproar Ingo or Charjabug made could catch the attention of the man on its opposite side. Eventually-- after far too long-- he’d thought to flag down Chandelure, who’d been able to open it with Psychic, and now here he was, standing on a page next to his Hisuian doppelganger, fretting over his own ward.

With only a small semblance of awareness behind his eyes, Emmet stared at him blankly, and Ingo knew there was no use in trying to ply him with food-- not when he’d just fall asleep before it could do any good. Sighing heavily, he gave Emmet’s cheek a pat and turned to regard the reason for-- if not the source of-- all this trouble.

Ingo was in a very strange situation, caused in no small part by the fact he and the worn-looking man on the page both felt the same ways, wanted the same things. He stepped forward, mirroring the ink-and-paper copy, meeting eyes so much like Emmet’s right now: lost and empty, in spite of the wakefulness in them.

He wanted to fix this-- for both of them. He was just a tool of Arceus’s creation, it wasn’t right for him to argue against Its actions, but he wanted so dearly to make things better. It was what he’d always wanted, as long as he could remember and, simultaneously, the express purpose for his existence.

The page under his feet wrinkled ever so slightly as he turned, again, toward Emmet, reading the faint lines and dark splotches beneath his eyes, crumpling internally at the determination they represented. He felt himself crumple externally, too, and, in the interest of safety, didn’t fight it as he sank to his knees.

Behind him, the shape of a man stretched out as a shadow.

He wanted to help.

He wanted to help.

Please, just let him help.

Something in him crackled to life, thrumming uncontrollably in his core as tears silently trailed down his cheeks.

He would defy his purpose if he had to, if discarding his reason for being meant he could fulfill something so much more important. In a way, wouldn’t he succeed in both? Emmet couldn’t rend the universe apart for his twin if Ingo did it first, after all.

There was a soft noise above him, and when he looked, Emmet’s eyes were clear and wide, fixated on him. When a hesitant hand reached for him, he reached back, smoothing his own hand along the palm that curved to support him.

“It will be okay,” Ingo promised, and oh, how strange. Was there something wrong with his voice? “We will put things right again.”

As quickly as it had found him, the burst of energy faded, and he leaned into Emmet’s palm, eyes half-mast and still blurred with tears.

His stubborn ideal, however, wouldn’t be forgotten.

[tropical-fruit-mx]

Rick and Diane's backstory ala TTPD

I think it really is my calling to write about how Rick and Morty characters relate to songs that Rick and Morty bros hate

Anyway, I want to ramble about Diane because I wish SO bad we had more information about her and Rick's canon relationship. I've seen a cool AU about her and Rick being teenage runaways together. (Side note I LONG to get a real flashback episode to Rick's teenage days since the tiny Rick episode gave us no actual sense of him as a teenager. Idk I just want to see how he developed his intelligence and if he's always had violent tendencies of it that only started after Diane died.)

But I was listening to this song while I was on a walk and kind of realizing that this song sounds like it could be Rick and Diane's backstory. Because I think Rick was always somewhat of a rebel and always rubbed people the wrong way, but Diane looks so agreeable and sweet. I can imagine her having a very proper upbringing, maybe to a more upper class family but still managing to fall in with some blue haired kid from the wrong side of the tracks. (Very Pretty in Pink)

I love picturing them as crazy committed teenage sweethearts as described in the song, Diane's family hates Rick, although the song lyrics are vague about why exactly. We can glean that he is "crazy," reckless ("I'm tellin' him to floor it through thе fences/No, I'm not coming to my senses"), and probably took Diane away to party and hook-up ("He was chaos, he was revelry/Bedroom eyes like a remedy").

I can imagine Diane being from an upper class country club kind of family, very obsessed with their image and how they're perceived in their social circle. What we learn from "Fear No Mort" is that Diane is very spunky and sharp. She's intelligent with an advanced degree and simply does not take any shit (per her argument with Rick at the ice cream shop). She's clearly a little headstrong (which I think is part of why she works so well with Rick, they like butting heads with each other and arguing about silly things) so of course she's very caught up in the idea that being with Rick is what she wants. "[She knows] he's crazy, but he's the one [she wants]" and she's very unconcerned by her parents and friends conceptions of Rick.

The idea that she's causing an uproar in her parents community by dating some rebel 100% does not phase her but it definitely eggs her on to be more chaotic about the whole thing. The lyrics "I'm havin' his baby/No, I'm not, but you should see your faces" and "I'll tell you something right now/I'd rather burn my whole life down/Than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'" are so Diane coded. I think that Rick is very minimally involved in this whole thing because it's not his scene but Diane is forcibly involved by her parents' friends and her equally uptight extended family vehemently protesting their relationship.

Which is of course the catalyst for Diane running away (imagine this art as the night they escaped, maybe Rick got into a fight with her dad or brother or something and now they're smoking at the bus stop laughing about how dramatic the whole thing was).

But y'know "We came back when the heat died down/Went to my parents and they came around" so I imagine that maybe later when she and Rick are married and have Beth her parents come around to the idea of them (and are probably very endeared by having a granddaughter).

So yeah, happy day dreaming Rick/Diane shippers, I hope you enjoy projecting about my favorite teenage disasters to Taylor Swift music.

[libras-interactives]

Few things i wanted to adress real quick, don't worry it is nothing bad.

1: I wanted to thank you for bringing this amazing universe to my attention, i binged the comic, watched the film, looked at the concept arts etc., i am so invested in this, the author did such a good job at creating the atmosphere of the 1920s and everything around it

2: Now i got a question, if you maybe got some references towards the style(mostly just hairstyles) of the 1920s, cause i can't for the sake of my life, find references for the braided, pined or other hairstyles of this period, only for the bobstyles(which makes sense, since it was a widely spred new style), and now i wondered if you got some references for the other hairstyles of this period?

Does that all makes sense, i hope so, also i am looking foward to see more of your work. Much love <3

Yessssss. Another one of us. It really is a beautiful piece of art and historical fiction that I wish more people looked into! Cut because there's lots of pictures.

For the hair - google is pretty great for this, especially when you get specific. There were the classic bobs (both for straight and curly hair), but also updos and buns. Many women in rural America still had long hair they kept up in simple buns or buns with braids - the overly complicated "big" hair of the 1900s-1910s was out. The bun was usually at the nap of the neck or higher. Braids were considered more childish, especially just worn by themselves.

There were also faux bobs for women who wanted to keep their long hair but also follow the trend. Not having your hair styled in some way was seen as being unkempt; so no wearing long flowing hair unless you're settling down for bed. A pinned faux bob looks just like a real one if done right.

Black women styled their hair to fit the trends as well - lots of sleek straightening one's curls, dramatic waves, or natural hair piled on top while the rest is pinned/gelled back. They could also style long hair into faux bobs ... don't underestimate the power of a million bobby pins and a nice hat.

Looking up actresses of the era helps as well - Josephine Baker had very dramatic short hair, Louise Brooks had the flapper look, Clara Bow had beautiful big curls she'd pin into a "more controlled" bob, Mary Pickford was well known for refusing to cut the curls that were her signature less than a decade ago, etc.

Also, severe blunt bangs were really only styled with straight bobs. Curly bobs, long hair, buns, etc lacked any kind of fringe. It was usually a middle or side part. The long-ish blunt bangs of a flapper bob could really exaggerate their heavy eye make-up and dark hair.

Though we strongly associate the 1920's with flappers and bobs, at the time it was super scandalous. A family could have an uproar over their daughter cutting her hair.

Vintage Dancer is one of my favorite websites for historical fashion, undergarments, hair, etc - they have great articles with pictures and context for more research. Googling photos of ordinary women in addition to actresses of the time can be useful as well.

[dojae-huh]

X erupts with another subfandom war the minute Jaehyun's birthday party is announced. Doyoung's fans cry about mistreatment since he didn't get his party while other 127 members have. They also talk about how Doyoung's birthday is removed from the SM artist birthday calendar, with no action from SM even past his birthday yesterday.

Although fans' feelings are valid but I think Doyoung's birthday was well spent. He had a good rest, great time with his family. Did a couple of lives to talk to the fans. It's not a grand gesture but as his fan the most important thing I want for him is his happiness. He has told fans that we might be upset but he promised that he has better things prepared. I don't know why people are still crying about "mistreatment" when clearly he has made a point that a birthday party is not needed.

On a lighter note...

As a Jaedo shipper I'm kind of jealous of Johnny and Jungwoo's birthday party. I kind of wished Jaedo would do a joint party, that would be my greatest wish. I wonder if Doyoung's rejected the idea, because he was busy? Or my delusional self thinks that he's rather not do something obvious with Jaehyun or else they'll cause uproar. I'm curious what is your take on this. Do you think that Jaedo was offered a chance for a birthday party?

More thoughts on Doyoung I guess he's probably busy preparing things here and there. He's a perfectionist so he wouldn't want to half ass a birthday celebration when he could just prepare for a bigger event, maybe after the release of his solo album. That would be more fun. Jaehyun's so sweet though, as Valentine boy he probably wouldn't want to miss a chance to make a grand event out of his birthday and Valentine's day. His fans would love it. My personal thoughts is that Jaehyun could enlist sooner, he's preparing for a lot of things faster than Doyoung.

I disagree. The cries of those fans are not valid. We don't even know if the members are paid for these public celebrations, was there time for preparations, and whether Doyoung wanted to do one in the first place.

SM congratulated Do on socmed, released merch, and gave him a cake. What else do fans want? A classical re-arrangment of a Doyoung's OST? When Do wanted to make a special BD live for fans, he was given assistance. When he wanted to release a cover of a Japanese song for fans on his BD, he was given a studio.

I don't think JaeDo were offered a joined party. Considering JN's BD is inbetween theirs, while Woo is a part of DJJ, it would make people ask questions.

[guardian-angle22]

I saw someone commenting under LS account that they wish the carlos hurt scene would have happened during a disaster/rescue/first responding (instead of you know crime watch ish serial killer)

I know no point wishing for that now since it’s clear we are getting hurt carlos with serial killer but yeah hopefully we get one like this in the future? him being injured during a rescue would have been much more related to the show tone and more related to first responding that we see him being hurt on the job (instead of getting bonked on the head after not calling for back up 😭)

And I just miss the “first responders saving people” plot thing from lone star, I know we have a few silly incidents and we will eventually get it but so far season 4 just feels quite different to me, like the first responders-rescuing-people thing became a sub plot and the tone became crimes/investigations.

I love the beginning of season 3 because all the rescues/first responding/incidents feel so well tied into a disaster

So yeah I hope we do get back to the actual “tone” of the show soon (meanwhile I will enjoy whump carlos and the upcoming tarlos angst/reunion)

First off, ooof you braved the comment section on social media? you’ve got more guts than me. I could never.

The rest of this I’m going to put under a cut cause it got LONG & it’s also kinda negative so sparing the timeline lol.

"like the first responders-rescuing-people thing became a sub plot and the tone became crimes/investigations." "I love the beginning of season 3 because all the rescues/first responding/incidents feel so well tied into a disaster"

^^ this part right here. just really highlights why I think I'm not loving the first few episodes this season.

To me it seems as though this season they were trying to replicate what they did in 3x01-3x04 in that they have a plot/theme running through all first four episodes in order to give a ~feature film~ feel to the start of the season. However, I think they did it much better in season three for a couple of reasons: #1 for the most part, the major plots involved in season three were rescue related and #2 it affected everyone.

Everyone was involved in the first four episodes of season 3 in some major way that all tied back to the same theme affecting the other characters. Even when some plots only carried over some of the four episodes (i.e. Paul getting trapped), their part in the story still felt cohesive with the other episodes. With this season, the first episode did a pretty decent job of at least showing everyone and then setting the stage for certain plots, but after that… the screen time/plots have not been balanced well at all IMO. Which, I will clarify: I don't think is necessarily bad to do for an episode or two. There's a cast of 10, so naturally there are going to be episodes that focus on Carlos, for instance, without Tommy being there and then the next episode will have Tommy as a major player and Carlos might not be in it much. I think that's fine and is even necessary to a degree with a cast this large… but to do that with FOUR episodes all in a row…. it just makes it harder to swallow the lack of screen time and actual plot for some other characters like Marjan, Paul, Mateo, Judd, Grace, etc. (if one of these stories wasn’t related to tarlos and TK & Carlos were getting the screen time of say Paul & Marjan for four episodes in a row like this, the fandom would be in an uproar right now, let be real)

Then when you add in that the two major plots happening parallel to each other now are BOTH unrelated to firehouse emergencies and instead related to crime/investigations (one by someone not qualified to do investigations and the other by someone who shouldn’t have been doing any investigating because they’re too close to it)… just really shifts the tone of the show. With only one story being that investigative angle, I could still hang with it for the most part and kind of ignore that bit. Which is why I was still firmly in a grin-and-bear it stage up until this last episode when both plots turned into this.

But anyway, I'll bring it all back around to the another point you made which is: "I know no point wishing for that now" ... cause, yeah, it's kinda just that? At this point, it is what it is. At least one of these plots is going to wrap up after this next episode and hopefully the balance of character time will even out as we continue on into the rest of the regular season. And I'm sure there are people who absolutely love what's happening right now, and this kind of show's target demographic outside of internet fandom is the type who typically would enjoy a regular crime procedural so maybe they'll gain new audience from that to carry into the rest of it.

I still love this dumbass firefighter show and if I have to skip an episode here or there, it's not going to kill my love of the show, and it's not the end of the world. 🤷‍♀️

[rainstormfes]

30 Questions about Seiyuu (2022 Edition) Day 2

"Your least favourite male seiyuu?" @natsthinkitythinkthinkthonk

Uhhhh so for this one, I'm basing my opinion off of recent events.

I know that there are some people out there that think that 'you shouldn't connect seiyuu and character. you should keep them completely separate from each other' but for this question, my interpretation of it is that it's asking about who my least favorite voice actor is, not just based off of their acting but as a person as well.

I think it's obvious where I'm going with this and I made a randomly long rant so I'm just gonna put it under a cut. Read at your own discretion.

I gotta go with the men that have been wrapped up in scandals with confirmations that their alleged actions actually happened to some extent with photo evidence or bascially confirmed straight from their mouths when making apologies: Namikawa Daisuke, Okamoto Nobuhiko, Suzuki Tatsuhisa, Sakurai Takahiro (just gonna note that the latter 3 all happened one year after another,,, the seiyuu fandom can't get a break)

I haven't talked a lot about any of these on my blog but I will say this: with all of the objective and confirmed information that I had tried to obtain regarding all 4 seiyuu, it's been hard to even listen to their voices anymore because of how much of an uproar these scandals caused and how utterly scandalous each situation was. (Granted, I still support their characters and know that they're talented as seiyuu but if they were in an event, I'd just have a neutral reaction to their presence.)

As a budding seiyuu fan that had made the quick decision to deep dive into various seiyuu events, and radios, and any kind of interactions really, when they were but a few months or so into the fandom, it's not a surprise that characters and seiyuu were associated with each other.

I made it a huge point that I wanted to be able to recognize seiyuu with just breathing or barely saying anything. I took pride in that and I still do now. But doing so allowed me to begin to care about the person behind the voice. I got to (somewhat) know the people behind the voices,, rather, I got to know the façade that they showed during events and the personality that they know that fans would want to see.

And honestly, this can apply to any and all seiyuu. Any and all celebrities, in fact. Heck, even people that you'd know in real life. Everyone puts up façades, especially when they're at work, because they need to maintain a certain type of professionalism and respect.

In the case of these 4 seiyuu, despite the fact that their issues had been revealed to the public via tabloids/pesky journalism, they're still issues. And it made me, personally, realize that these men are capable of the things that caused the drama and outrage from all corners of the fandom.

In the end, first and foremost I hope that they had apologized to the women involved and made the most amends that they could in their personal lives. But also I just wish them well in their professional endeavors. After all, we should all just move on from this and decide how we want to support (or not support) these particular men.

[my-mt-heart]

Its really hard for me right now as a caryler. Im french and i like Clemence Poesy, had it been still a caryl spin off i would be over the moon. And im one of those who loves Rick (refering to your post). I know u said lets not again put the blame on us carylers because we re devastated and saying it, and i get it, im sick of the carylers being blamed for everything as well, but some carylers on twitter are really really really going too far, and also are judging carylers that are not by shaming them and calling them pathetics losers that need attention and approval by GA etc. What kind of bullshit is that? Where's the tolerance for different opinions? Its sad. Im tired.

We dont know yet how this spin off will turn out. Yes the night club thing is strange but its just a setting, it doesnt mean we ll see Daryl having sex with all kind of strippers or girls in the club. Yes, Clemence is younger than Melissa, and the "cast as a lead" thing can be upsetting, but as u said, there is also a male lead, being cast as a lead doesnt mean anything else than she ll be in all episodes and be important to the story. That doesnt necessarely mean she'll be Daryl's love interest (but mind you... donnie and co are gonna jump on that ship for sure, canon or not...) , plus hell for all we know the spin off could be set before the time jump at the end of 11.24 with caryl canon.

Maybe, just maybe, lets wait for the finale before being scared and disappointed, and maybe also lets really wait for that spin off to air or have real spoilers abt it before jumping to the conclusion that its gonna betray Daryl's character. About what Khary said, well, he does know Melissa better than we do so even if he cant talk for her it is worrying for me. On the other side she did say Carol's not over yet, so i guess we just have to wait and see.

I have litteraly nothing against what lots of carylers are feeling right now, i've been sad and pissed myself for months, but seing some of "us" making fun of Clemence on twitter, having decided before seeing anything that its gonna be shit and full of shitty male gaze doesnt help our cause. And i know its not everyone, but its still tiring. And again, we are not bad carylers because we dont hate the new female lead. Our because we re kind of "happy" (not really because its just Daryl but hope u get my point) our country is getting some kind of recognition in our favorite show. I really really wish it could be Caryl in France and not just Daryl, but its not...

There are probably going to be a few french actors on this show that are either half famous around the world or at least huge stars in the french speaking countries (France, Belgium, ect...). I might like them as a fan of french cinema or tv. Am i a bad caryler because i dont wanna hate them just because they are trying to "internationalize" their career with an american spin off of a very famous show ? Am i going to stop liking them because they are in the show? No

Im not saying its what u re asking, i know its not. And im NOT watching the show anyway. Because carol's not in there. I'll just spoil myself if necessary. But i dont want to hate on Daryl, i refuse (i dont care abt Norman).

Again, please, i hope u ll understand what im trying to say. Im so tired. And its not against you. Or anyone on tumblr really. I love your posts. As some other anon pointed out, you re the light here, very often. Im just exhausted. Now, i shared here my opinion but respect yours or everyone else, i just wished everybody (and i dont mean u) did the same.

I understand what you're saying and I agree we shouldn't be jumping down each other's throats or blaming the new cast. As for the general uproar, AMC has broken our faith in a lot of ways, they've mishandled Daryl's story before (thinking of Leah), they've sidelined Carol/Melissa, kept Caryl apart and the list goes on, so I think it's important to keep holding them accountable for that. The finale/finale event will give us more insight like you said, and if we aren't happy, then yeah, we don't watch. I don't think any of us are planning to anyway.

[initiumseries]

Sorry for getting back to you so late about the Iris ask! Thanks for letting me know about her and her storylines! I wish I could say I’m glad for her and for Candice, but it just sounds all so repetitive to me too. I don’t even watch the flash, but from what I’ve read, she’s always in the position of helping Barry and that’s tiring. Does Barry even help her? Is Barry even there? It’s sad because it genuinely doesn’t seem like the case, and that makes a lot of sense with Westallen’s negative chemistry, but like the writers put them together and to me it’s been time to just fucking commit to them. It’s the last season and they have such a passionless marriage (I think they’re married?) and even I, as someone who doesn’t watch, can see that. But oh well, just give them and their shippers reasons to still ship, or something. It seems like such a downer ending for them and it’s sad because it could have at least ended with recycled romanced tropes that at least would make some people happy, haha. Fuck, this show could have been decent at best! But it just seems so dry and cold and that’s par the course unfortunately. Lastly, is there anything about the plot this season that’s interesting?

Thanks for letting me rant here! Please keep up your thoughts on the season, I love reading your thoughts!

Haha yeah they've been married a LONG time, like, since season 4 or something? It's completely dry.

The thing is, the wrote themselves into a corner. The previous showrunner made Westallen the flagship couple, and Barry pining after her while she was with Eddie was a big part of the show. And the thing is, like I said before, Westallen worked as FRIENDS. Like I don't believe this at ALL:

But I definitely believe this:

These are two people who enjoy each other's company, I can believe, in moments like this, that Barry carried a torch for her, because they look like t hey have fun together. The problem lies in their actual character development and the fact that they have ZERO romantic chemistry. And before they got together, Barry and Patty looked like this:

And Iris and Eddie looked like this:

So the show sabotaged both those relationships for an inferior ship in Westallen. And the fandom for Westallen at the time was RABID. Called me and zalrb out of our names for pointing out the complete absence of chemistry between them in favour for this shitty interracial ship. So the show doubled down on the relationship, instead of just letting go. Because if they were willing to take the risk, and seeing this:

And deciding to bail? I wouldn't have blamed them, but it would've caused a huge uproar so I get why they didn't. Instead, Iris was just relegated to being Barry's emotional support wife while everyone else got development. When the new showrunner took over, it was clear he was more interested in building Iris out away from Barry, and by then, the fandom had basically died because both showrunners were aware of the lack of chemistry, and stopped making westallen romantic. But the biggest problem with the Flash now, I think is how repetitive it's become, like you said. I mean it's 9 seasons deep and Barry's biggest foes, every season, have been some kind of speedster. After Harrison Wells, and then Zoom, enough is enough lol. They moved away from it for a bit, then came back to it again in season 8 and 9. The plot is so dogged and heavy, that their attempts at emotional development in these characters feels ham handed and like an after thought. The last episode, Joe has taken Jenna and moved to the country or suburbs or whatever, so Cecile has to go back and forth, and they get caught up in a case (with Sugarbaby of all people, iykyk), and she misses her train home. If the show was better written, and had invested in the emotionality of the characters earlier on, we'd be able to feel something for Cecile's powers messing up and her beating herself up for being a bad mom. But they sort of just...splice these emotional moments in between an unrelenting plot and it's...corny. So when Cecile has a faux breakdown at the end and the Spanish girl with the convenient light powers says just the right thing to get Cecile back on track by the end of the episode, you can't help but be like...well this is trite.

And tbh that's not just a problem with the Flash. It's a problem with all the superhero shows and movies. It's part of the reason all of them got cancelled so quickly. Arrow and the Flash were the only ones with a modicum of character building, and they held on the longest. Marvel movies are frustrating to me because it's just a CG orgy and with every director being different for every movie, what little emotional development the heroes experience goes out the window with the next installment and you feel like this is a completely new, blank, boring character held hostage to the new shitty plot of this movie. It's part of why I just want the superhero genre to die, because none of them are being handled with the level of nuance as, for ex. Black Panther. It was SUCH a departure because we got moments like this:

We're sitting in T'Challa's grief over losing his father, his lack of clarity around how to do the right thing for his people and be the King they need. So by the time we get to here:

We're INVESTED in his return. THAT'S what I wanted out of the Flash.

There are a couple decent actors on the show WASTED because it's so plot heavy and the plot isn't even engaging? It's like watching an overinflated after school special. And honestly, pigeon-holing Westallen into marriage SO early, hurt the show too. Giving is more "will they, won't they" might have drawn out the tragedy a bit longer, but that's just my opinion.

Anyway, thanks for the ask! I enjoy discussing shows like this and why they don't engage audiences like they could.

[glapplebloom]

((The final part. No pictures))

After hearing that the Elements of Disharmony are the same as the Elements of Harmony, Rarity, Rainbow Dash and Applejack looked confused. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy don't seem to care. Rarity was the first to respond. “I’m sorry darling, but how are they the same? How could Geneosity be, well, disharmonious?” Twilight walked to the former Fashion Pony. “Look at yourself. So generous to keep all your trauma to yourself. Willing to spread your pleasure to your sister. You’re still as generous as always, Rarity.”

She walked up to Applejack. “Applejack: the truth you know would cause the ponies of Equestria to distrust their current ruler. Imagine the uproar of their Princess of Friendship being the reason for so many deaths.” Twilight then walked up to Rainbow Dash. “Rainbow Dash: your loyalty to Cloudsdale is so strong, you are willing to kill your other friends to maintain its secret. And you don’t hesitate to grind up fillies ino Spectra.” 

The Unicorn then walked to Pinkie Pie. “Pinkie Pie: the same laugher that would bring ponies together becomes horrifying when they figure out your true intentions.” She finally walked to the last creature. She didn’t know its name, it doesn’t seem to actually talk outside saying things are cold. “I’m just going to call you Fluttershy to make things easier. But you are the consequences of Kindness given to the wrong pony.”

Twilight then turned towards the door that would lead them to the outside. “So let us return to the Castle of the Two Sisters and finish what I started!” They all nodded as they headed out. Instead of sneaking around, they were more straightforward. Twilight didn’t care if Nightmare Moon knew they were coming, she wanted to confront her once more. The guards that did try to stop them were powerless against these ponies.

Applejack beat the pony who was trying to stop her to death. While she doesn’t remember what happened during her sleep-deprived time, it seems her body still has muscle memory of doing that. Rainbow Dash took care of any airborne guard. If anyone knew how to keep a Pegasus down for good, it was her. Anytime a guard did somehow get an attack in, it was towards Rarity who moaned in pleasure. This freaked out the guard.

And the poor guards who had to deal with Twilight, Pinkie Pie or the Entity called Fluttershy. What happened to them was too horrifying to say. They continued through the Everfree forest and made it towards the bridge with no issue. Except this time the Bridge was no longer there. So with no other option, they decided to go the long route and go down the cliff. But as they reached down, they noticed a cave glowing.

They head towards it and what they see is the Tree of Harmony. And in front of it is Nightmare Moon. Apparently she was trying to destroy it but failed to do so. But she did sense the presence of her new visitors and turned around. “Twilight Sparkle. I see you have returned. But even with the Tree of Harmony, there’s nothing you can’t do.” Twilight smiled. “I think me and my friends have an idea.”

Then suddenly, the six ponies leap towards Nightmare Moon. The Alicorn was caught unaware, so before she could respond Twilight placed a spell that would disable her magic for a short time. Short, but more than enough for the six of them to tear Nightmare Moon apart. The blood spilled upon the Tree of Harmony. It absorbed the blood into itself and formed new Elements. They look similar to the ones we know, but deformed in a way like a funhouse mirror.

They flew to their rightful owner. Nightmare Moon, still alive but looking like she’s been in a car wreck, can only look up as the six ponies gained these new and twisted Elements and used its magic on her. When it was all over, Nightmare Moon was gone for good. Not a single trace was left of her. And from this day forward, the Equestria of this world and others will wish that they were under eternal night.

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

And that’s where I’ll be ending this story for now. But you could imagine the horrors that will be coming.

[uwukillmenowowo]

『📓』Regression Scenario

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Imagine

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The year is 204X. After years and years of anime, manga, podcasts and other forms of fantasy the world has changed. "God" has appeared and granted powers to those who have the potential to rise up as heroes and become "Players" After that, monsters and "gates" started to appear. People who of course, that are familiar with the genre get a head start and start to get addicted to the grind. 

During their hunt in the "gates" that hold monsters, humanity finds out that monsters drop a new kind of currency. This causes the current economy to collapse since humanity technically doesn't really need it anymore. If you can hunt monsters then you're practically rich, the higher the monster's level was, the more money you'd get. Then other changes to humanity are shown.

Just five years later we're introduced to the main character, [MC]. [MC] was ordinary but they've always wanted to join in on the fight. They needed the money because their family member was included in an accident and their treatment cost a fortune. Unfortunately, they couldn't get a good job because of the rising of "players" [MC] wished that they could become a player as well...

but they were one of the unfortunate ones to not be selected as a player. 

No abilities, no money, and soon they'll have no family.

Because who doesn't like angst~?

Then one day they were given the chance to change their situation. A God pitied the human so the God decided to bless the human with an item.

When [MC] was informed about the item they received, they were shocked. That item was an item to turn back time to any day you desire.

Desperate to change fate, [MC] uses the item and turns back time to the day they were born.

Most people wish that they were given a chance to return back to when they were a child but it really came true for [MC].

But just a few years after being born, [MC] gains the attention of the Gods again. But the Gods don't seem to remember what happened prior to the regression. [MC] takes the opportunity to prove their worth to the Gods and so they gain powers that will help them become the number 1 ranked "player" in the whole world.

As for the main antagonist. This may seem cliché but the main antagonist is the God who gave the time rewind item to [MC]. This is because the God just wanted more entertainment in the world. The God thought that [MC] would kill the other top ranked players when they were younger because of the envy the God felt from [MC]. But it didn't happen, instead the [MC] decides to give humanity a better future. To show the world that dreams can come true. Then [MC] would reveal their secret about the time regression.

Of course, people rebelled, calling it unfair. The God who granted the time item would take the opportunity and bless the person with the most hatred for the [MC] and eventually, that person becomes the next demon king. The new demon king would then take all those who rebelled again [MC] and turn them into demons for a big battle.

After that, the top players, including [MC] would have a massive fight. But surprise! [MC]'s first ever Love Interest would perish, taking a blow that was meant for [MC] and *BOOM* the power of love and revenge would kick in and [MC] would defeat the demon king.

The other Gods and Goddesses end up punishing the evil God, who actually used to be the god of Dorado {The Swordfish Constellation}.

And then Kablam,

[Insert Sad Backstory]. 

Lol nah- JK I made one

Turns out the Gods of Dorado and Delphinus were brothers in arms. But one day a Goddess destroyed Delphinus and Dorado wanted revenge. But the God didn't know who exactly destroyed Delphinus. Dorado because so obsessed wit finding the one responsible that Dorado lost their Godly power and became a force of evil.

Thus, the last arc begins.

[MC] discovers clues to who destroyed Delphinus and while that's happening, all the Gods are in an uproar, because of that, players all around the world all turned their back on all the Gods.

Now, a God's or Goddesses power comes from the faith of their believers. The less believers a God has, the weaker they are. All the Gods start to suspect each other because of the fallen Delphinus and so, the God's rage send out natural disasters onto Earth.

Earthquakes, Tsunamis, Tornados, Storms, etc, etc

Finally, [MC] finds out who destroyed the God of Delphinus.

And it was Hydra {The Water Monster}. Le gasp!

Hydra then reveals her evil plan, why she did what she did, and then slowly starts to drown the Earth because of Hydra's secret circle of believers.

The other Gods and Goddesses bless the warriors of Earth but its not enough. That's when [MC] stands up again Hydra. The Gods of the Constellations bless more of Earth's warriors and eventually faith in the Gods returned. Everyone starts to fight against the believers of Hydra and [MC] ascends to a higher plain to fight the Goddess of Hydra.

BING BANG POW-

HYDRA DIES

After, the Gods and Goddesses give [MC] an opportunity of a lifetime.

"Would you like to become the new God of Delphinus?" [MC] goes wide eyed and was about to accept but then they think back to all their friends back on Earth.

[MC] eventually refuses and goes back to Earth. Because of their hard work, the Gods and Goddesses grant [MC] a wish. And they use that one wish to bring their loved one back.

Their loved one is shocked and [MC] gives an emotional explanation because confessing to their loved one.

Now- this would be a multi ending

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1. Their loved one accepts and they live happily ever after~ They live a fulfilled life and [MC] passes on with no regrets.

2.  Their loved one accepts and they live happily ever after~ They live a fulfilled life and [MC]'s partner passes on with no regrets. Unfortunately [MC] loses it because even though they're happy now, the trauma didn't disappear. [MC]'s sorrow surfaces and the God of Dorado is seen one more time. And everything repeats because Dorado has given [MC] the exact same item as they did in the past. Because of their grief [MC] takes the opportunity and rewinds time once again.

The twist with this is that [MC] forgets all their memories when they reset this time. And the whole story starts over, with the meeting of their lover. >:)

3. Their loved one declines and kills themselves because they wanted to be with their dead family. Eventually [MC] retires a few days later and instead of living peacefully [MC] kills themselves as well and becomes the God of Delphinus to get rid of their emotional attachment to humanity.

A different God takes this opportunity and not only seduces [MC] but poisons their mind to convince the other Gods and Goddesses to destroy Earth and create a new world. This would probably lead to either another Book with tales of [MC] finding out about their new Gods powers, trying to recover their memories and love for humanity once again or an indefinite cliffhanger ;P

[This one is my favorite so far :D]

4. Their loved one declines but they live on as best friends. Eventually they have their own families and the ending scene would be [MC] and their family visiting their best friend's grave. [MC] eventually dies at that grave from old age, surrounded by the people they were able to protect. And [MC] lives on, in their children and in history as the [Insert cool title here]