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ckret2 · 1 day ago

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Pictured above: a shape's eye view of the end of the world.

The second dimension has burned; and Bill's been accidentally setting the second dimension's neighbors on fire. At the moment, the Axolotl is trying really, really hard to convince himself that these two facts are unrelated. Here, have a fic.

This is chapter 5 of an ongoing fic about the Axolotl in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre as Bill just keeps on committing atrocities. If you wanna read the earlier chapters (and/or look at more pretty art of Bill committing horrors and the Ax witnessing horrors), here's chapters one, two, three, and four.

####

As soon as the Axolotl and the Time Giant exited Dimension Zero, they were greeted with a faceful of rain. Apparently the storm cloud with the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force had been waiting for them. "The fires in the remaining dimensions around 2Δ are finally acting like normal fires," it said. "No teleporting around, no more targeting the mortals. We've got the worst ones under control. Think we'll save about 40% of Dimension 2 Zeta and 30% of Dimension 2 Epsilon. Whatever you two did in there, it helped."

"Yeah, well." The Time Giant shrugged, nearly dislodging the Axolotl from his perch draped over her shoulder. "It was one of those problems that fixes itself once you figure out what it is."

So the Time Giant had been right. The triangle's attempts to rescue "his" "people" and to stabilize his strange underworld in Dimension Zero had been what was destabilizing all the other dimensions. As much of a relief as it was to hear the situation was improving... part of the Axolotl had hoped that the fires were still as untamed as ever—because that would have meant the triangle wasn't guilty of perpetuating the blaze.

(If the triangle wasn't actively working to keep Dimension Zero stable, how much longer until it collapsed and erased all its imprisoned souls from existence? Would it be long enough to get them all out?)

The cloud asked, "So, did you find out what destroyed 2Δ?" Right. The Axolotl had almost forgotten that was what they'd originally been looking for.

The Time Giant shook her head grimly. "Didn't see any sign of it. But I've got a suspicion who did it."

The Axolotl said sharply, "All we have is circumstantial evidence." And he'd ripped into more than one god who'd tried to damn a mortal based on circumstantial evidence.

The cloud's sunbeam darted between their faces. Slowly, it said, "I take it you mean our triangular friend. I don't have any proof yet about the original fire; but he's been spreading the fire, I know that much."

"How did you know?" the Axolotl asked. He and the Time Giant had only just learned it themselves inside Dimension Zero.

"We've been interviewing some refugees while you were out. I—think you'll want to speak to them." The cloud directed this statement to the Axolotl.

The Time Giant said, "Later. The triangle says he's willing to move his people to another dimension." She gestured toward VENDOR, flanked by the two cops THEY'd apparently adopted as THEIR personal escorts. THEY were ranting into a phone that the crab-looking cop was holding up for them. "So we've gotta go discuss refugee stuff with Vendy McVendface."

"VENDOR," the cloud corrected.

"Vend 'er? I hardly even know 'er!"

The gods turned to stare at the border of Dimension Zero as the triangle laughed at his own joke until he wheezed. "I had to. It was sitting right there! It woulda been a crime not to pick it up!" His cackles slowly petered out. "What, no laughs? Maybe the joke doesn't translate."

The Time Giant shrugged. "I kinda thought it was funny."

"Ah, whatever."

"Have you been listening the whole time?" the Axolotl asked, not sure whether to be amused or mortified.

"Don't worry about it, I've got something more important to say." He zipped up along the surface of Dimension Zero's border until he was eye level with the Time Giant. "Hey, Hourglass. I didn't say I'm ready to move my people. I said I'm ready to talk about moving. Your guy better sell me on it. If your offer isn't worth it, we're not leaving."

"Are you serious?" She screwed up her face. "Ain't not being erased from existence worth it?"

"I have very high standards. And there are fates worse than death."

"Name one."

The triangle only thought about it a second before he answered, "Captivity."

####

It wasn't until the Axolotl and the Time Giant left the border of Dimension Zero that the Axolotl realized, the moment the triangle had shown up, the storm cloud had disappeared. It was now drizzling surreptitiously near VENDOR, waiting for them to catch up.

As they approached VENDOR, the Time Giant said, "You should give VENDOR the news."

The Axolotl gave her an affronted look. "Why me?" This wasn't his responsibility. He hadn't been hired to do a job here. He shouldn't even be here; he was essentially an over-involved lookie-loo.

"You'd be better at talking to 'em. You move in the same circles."

"I'm not a politician, I'm a lawyer."

"I'm an engineer." She took the Axolotl off her shoulder and nudged his butt to set him gently floating in VENDOR's direction.

The Axolotl twisted around to give her a resentful look, but swam toward the vending machine.

THEY ignored the Axolotl until THEY finished THEIR current call, at which point THEY snapped, "What?" and he explained the situation. Blessedly, THEY didn't ask any further questions or give him any instructions; THEY just grumbled, "Finally," and told the crab cop, "Call the Vitruvian Mandala—we'll need to find places for another ten million 2D refugees."

"And 1D," the Axolotl said.

"Yes, yes." THEY muttered under THEIR fan, "And hopefully we'll get that triangle to the afterlife he deserves and be done with him."

The Axolotl doubted THEY meant a serene eternal paradise. Pointedly, he said, "Which afterlife he goes to is his choice."

Afterlife law was his speciality. Not cases like "based on this mortal's good and bad deeds, which form has she earned for her next reincarnation?" or "has this soul earned entry into his religion's realm of the wicked, the good, or the heroic?" Those were decided on the local level.

Rather, he tended to handle inter-pantheon, sometimes even interdimensional, cases—like, "if a mortal born on one planet lives and dies on another planet, which world's afterlife has claim to his soul?" "Is a soul's right to return to her native afterlife forfeit if she's apprehended in another god's jurisdiction for crimes against reality?" "Can a death god in a dimension where wandering ghosts are banned incarcerate a ghost from a dimension where wandering is legal?" "How does a soul's right to claim an afterlife weigh against an afterlife's right to claim a soul?" "Who has the right to judge a deceased mortal in the first place?"

The Axolotl personally thought that mortals deserved to be treated as mercifully as possible—starting with respecting the dead's own choice of afterlife above all others, and ending with outlawing damnation at the interdimensional level.

The rest of the multiverse... didn't agree with him yet. He didn't intend to stop until they did.

He went on, "Case law has long established that unless the dead made other arrangements premortem, they will be taken to—in order—the afterlife of their birth, their death, or their choice. The afterlife under whose jurisdiction the triangle lived and died has been destroyed, so he can go to any afterlife that says they're willing to take him, whether or not you think it's what he deserves—"

VENDOR's camera rolled and THEY impatiently beeped acknowledgment. "Do you mind, I'm on the phone." THEY turned THEIR back on the Axolotl to focus on THEIR next call. Yeah, most gods didn't like being told they couldn't just smite and damn whoever they felt like.

The storm cloud called the Axolotl's attention with a fork of lightning. It said, "I'll need to help coordinate the rescue efforts with VENDOR. I can get the report on what you learned in there from the engineering inspector; but you need to go talk to some of the witnesses of the fire. Maybe you should ask the Vitruvian Mandala when He's free."

That was the second time it had told him to talk to the refugees. "Why?"

"You said that yellow triangle's your friend, right?"

"I... did, yes."

The cloud didn't explain any further. It only said, "Be careful around him."

####

VENDOR bustled around making preparations to receive ten million new refugees with absolutely no input from anyone else on the scene; the cloud's time was split between coordinating with the ATTF and getting a full debrief from the Time Giant on the conditions inside Dimension Zero; and left alone, the Axolotl found himself staring into the roiling barrier around the bloated singularity.

He swore, no matter where he looked, in the center of his view he could see a tiny, yellow, triangular pinprick of light, like an afterimage burned into his retina. No matter how deeply he looked into Dimension Zero, somehow his eyes always seemed focused on the triangle, making it appear nearer and then farther, like an optical illusion.

Be careful around him. He wished his Oracle were here to ask him questions. Helping her mortal mind make sense of this whole affair might help him make sense of it himself.

He'd seen the horror in the triangle's eye when he realized that he was the one incinerating the dimensions that had once bordered his own. He'd heard the sincerity in the triangle's voice when he said he could feel the deaths of every life that fell into his dream realm—the deaths that he himself was causing. He'd felt the guilt pouring from the triangle when he realized his efforts to save "his people" from being killed were what was killing them. Whatever else the Axolotl knew, he was sure the triangle hadn't meant to cause anyone harm. He hadn't started the fires on purpose. He just... didn't know what he was doing.

And "his people"—what did that mean?

Maybe some of the people in the triangle's dance party were from his dimension. The Axolotl couldn't totally confirm that they weren't; if the triangle had somehow survived, then why not others?

But it was undeniable that the triangle had been "rescuing"/kidnapping people from other dimensions, and he talked about the people he'd rescued no differently from the people from his own dimension.

Why? Had members of his species spread to neighboring dimensions? Or had his species come from another? Had his people established diplomatic relationships with cultures in neighboring universes, enough for them to consider themselves one people?

"Certainly not," said the Vitruvian Mandala.

He was a god from one of the worlds in Dimension 2 Gamma that the ATTF had managed to evacuate before the dimension was fully incinerated. Now, He was just another refugee, huddled with His confused, terrified people on one of the temporary worlds provided by VENDOR, curved uncomfortably atop the spherical planet. He had to be reeling from the loss of His home just as much as His people were—if not more, since He had known and seen and done and loved much more that any single mortal could. But nevertheless, He'd immediately stepped up to assist with organizing the rescue services, acting as a liaison between VENDOR and the 2D mortals to find new homes for them.

And some of His people had been among the ones dragged into Dimension Zero—which was no doubt why the cloud had suggested the Axolotl speak to Him.

The Vitruvian Mandala may have been a minor creation god (He'd only created a galaxy) but He was more than powerful enough to know whether any of His people had ever made interdimensional contact. The Axolotl had waited until He had a moment to spare from assisting VENDOR, and then asked Him about their relationship with Dimension 2 Delta.

"I seeded life on all the populated worlds in My galaxy. None of My worlds have ever so much as been colonized by another galaxy in Our own dimension, much less people from another dimension," He said. "And We're a young galaxy—the most advanced starfarers have hardly ventured beyond their own solar systems; none have left Our dimension."

"And they've never spoken to other dimensions...?"

"No. The first contact We ever had with 'Dimension 2 Delta'—or what was left of it—was when the Magister Mentium began dragging My people into his underworld. The leaders I've had a chance to speak to from Dimension 2 Epsilon and Dimension 2 Zeta have told Me the same. " He called the triangle 'Magister Mentium' without any of the halting awkwardness the Axolotl did, or even the self-consciousness the triangle himself did. The Vitruvian Mandala had never known the triangle as anything but the Magister Mentium—and in His voice, it sounded not like an oversized title for a tiny triangle, but like the name of a fellow god.

But—the Axolotl had only asked the Vitruvian Mandala about Dimension 2 Delta. He hadn't brought up the Magister Mentium, nor mentioned that he was asking about the kidnapped people. "How did you know about the Magister Mentium?"

The Vitruvian Mandala said simply, "Because he introduced himself to My people before he started stealing them."

At the Axolotl's shocked silence, He said, "Do you want to see what they saw?"

####

When the agents with the ATTF had started interviewing survivors about the cosmic fire, naturally, they'd first approached the other gods for information. And then the gods had approached the mortals under their charge to get their testimonies and pass them on to the apoc agents.

The Vitruvian Mandala had telepathically extracted His people's memories and copied them into tiny glassy discs with brass rims. He sifted through dozens of discs before offering the memory of a narrow rhombus from one of His most technologically advance worlds; and the Axolotl stared through the disk to experience the mortal's memory.

The memory started with a sight that had become all too familiar to the Axolotl: a distant line of burning blue fire. It took a moment for the Axolotl to orient himself to the mortal's razor-thin two-dimensional view of her world; but once he did, he realized that, from her perspective, it wasn't a line of light. To her, it was the entire sky. The constellations of faraway flat stars had vanished, and their place was taken by an inferno.

The whole world reeked of a stench that the rhombus didn't recognize, but that the Axolotl did: burning hydrogen. In most dimensions, three-fourths of all the matter in the entire universe—including the very stars themselves—consisted of hydrogen molecules. Hydrogen burned a pale blue. The stench in the air, the pale blue light filling the sky, was the smell and sight of the raw materials of reality itself burning away.

The nearby buildings had emptied into the city streets as people abandoned their work to coming outside and stare at the burning sky. Somewhere—it seemed very far away—people were screaming, sirens were wailing, government proclamations were issuing out of radios and loudspeakers; but on these streets, on the border of the city where the sky was most visible, everyone was horribly silent.

An eerie feeling of unreality hung over the world. It felt like a scene out of a dream. The rhombus's heart filled with dread. She didn't understand why or how the sky was burning, but she felt in her bones that it must mean the end of the world.

She never imagined that it was the end of the entire universe.

And then, more real than reality itself, bright enough to blind, a radioactive-yellow shape appeared in the middle of the crowd. Over the gasps of shock, a voice that echoed between the buildings proclaimed, "Gooood evening! Lines, bis, and tris; quads, quints, and more—my beloved believers and my new friends—I'm sure you all recognize my voice from the news, but it's a pleasure to finally meet you all in the flesh!"

She wasn't sure he had any flesh to meet. He was ghostlike, as insubstantial as smoke—and just as formless as smoke, too: his shape constantly shimmered and shifted and distorted, his skin appearing and disappearing as his internal organs were exposed; one moment a leg visible, the next a hand, then no limbs at all, just his blindingly bright body. His organs were all wrong. When she could stand to squint at the specter's light, in the split seconds that his ghostly form was properly visible, she thought he looked like a triangle.

(She'd never seen the third dimension, never even attempted to imagine what a 3D shape might look like. She didn't realize his appearance shifted because he was a 2D shape tilting in 3D directions trying to lay flat on the 2D plane of Dimension 2 Gamma, and not quite succeeding. )

"Allow me to introduce myself properly: I'm the Magister Mentium, seer of the third dimension! Your gateway to the stars and stardom, your guide to prophets and profits, your mastermind and master of minds; and, if you're lucky, your new eternal party host! I'm sure the honor's all yours—but please, resist the urge to swoon! I have a limited time offer that you cannot afford to miss."

For all his self-aggrandizing, the triangle was still completely unfamiliar. She didn't see recognition in the eyes of any of the shapes around them, either. She doubted he'd ever actually been on the news at all, unless it was in one of those dubious programs about ghost hunting or UFOs.

But the triangle charged on regardless: "I'm here to bring you salvation from— Whoops! We've got a crying baby over here. Sorry junior, I'm on stage right now." She hadn't even noticed the crying until the triangle pointed it out; the whole world seemed dull and muffled and gray except for the triangle. One of his arms stretched in the child's direction and disappeared; there was a split-second flash of black fingers where the baby used to be; and then both hand and baby vanished, the baby's cries morphing into a shriek of terror that slowly faded into the unseeable distance.

"My baby!" a rectangle wailed. She rushed up to the alien triangle. "What did you do to my baby, you—" She tried to seize his arm, and let out a howl of pain as her hands burst into flame.

"Calm down, Mama, your little brat's okay!" He reached out and flicked the rectangle back. His finger hit her with the force of a catapult. She tumbled away from him through dimensions unknown, skins and bone and organs turning inside-out over each other; and slammed into a nearby building, fusing with the wall. All that was visible of her was a thin cross section of meat. The rhombus couldn't imagine where the rest of her had gone—but she could smell the burning flesh.

"Too bad I can't say the same of you." The triangle turned to stare them all down, gaze darting restlessly from face to face. His pupil was bizarrely long, animal-like; and his gaze burned. She was sure that, if his gaze had lingered on her a moment longer, she would have caught fire, too. "We're burning time, people! Would anyone else like to be excused? Last call!"

There were a few whispers, but no one moved. The crowd was petrified with fear.

"Terrrrific! Then you'd better listen close, because I only have time to say this once," the triangle said. "Here's the deal! There's only two kinds of people: the ones who hate captivity, and the ones who love it. Oh yeah, there are people who love it! Some of 'em like inflicting it, some of 'em are too stupid to think for themselves, and some of 'em just want to do terrible things and pretend they had no choice!

"But I'm here to help the rest of you—you know who you are! You're the ones who never quite tessellated with the other kids! The ones who are sick and tired of your family saying you had so much potential and asking where it's all gone! You can feel the barbs of social obligation hooking into your flesh—yeah, you there, you know what I'm talking about, I see you!—and you'd rip your own skin off if you thought it would set you free! It won't, by the way—take it from a guy who knows! Luckily for you, my way's more effective and less painful! Probably!"

In spite of their fear, more than a few shapes had started pushing closer to the triangle. He was speaking to them.

"So if you crave freedom—from work, laws, morality, physics... death..."

More than a few shapes glanced fearfully toward the sky.

"...if you want to see the stars with me—then raise your hand! Reach out to me! Watch your enemies burn and escape to a realm of dreams with no rules and no responsibilities! That's right, this way!"

As soon as he said raise your hand, it seemed like half the crowd stretched their hands out to him —and the longer he spoke, the more reached out.

She recognized some of the people reaching out—some of them were her neighbors and friends. Here was a beaten-down pentagon who'd spent his whole life being controlled, and just wanted freedom from the ruthless monsters who used and abused him. There was a controlling circle who'd spent her whole life using and abusing others, and wanted freedom to be an even more ruthless monster. They all reached toward the triangle just the same—as if they'd been waiting their whole lives for an opportunity to escape. The desperate, the downtrodden, the dastardly, the barely daring to hope. If the whole burning world felt like a bizarre dream, then this must have felt like a dream come true to them.

But to the rhombus, it felt like a nightmare. She had to fight through the crowd to back away from him.

"No need to push! If you can't see me, just hold your hand toward my voice, I can see you!"

The smell of burning existence was growing stronger.

Was this a test? An approaching apocalypse and a shapeshifting god of light and fire offering a last-minute rapture. The sky was burning—what hope did they have if they didn't go with him? More of the crowd was reaching for him now—terrified of him, but more terrified of their fate if they didn't. The rhombus reluctantly stretched out a hand.

"Thaaat's right, this way! I've got all of you!" His voice was taking on an edge of impatience. "Just—come on already! Hurry up!"

She was at just the right angle to catch a split second glimpse of the triangle through the crowd. She saw as the person closest to him reached out and grasped his hand. She saw as the first of the triangle's new followers burst into flames. The unlucky soul crumbled to ash before they had a chance to scream.

"I said no pushing."

The rhombus jerked her hand back and hoped the triangle hadn't seen her through the crowd. He wasn't offering salvation.

Most of the crowd wasn't lucky enough to get a view of the unfortunate shapes at the front who were already learning what a deal with the triangle entailed. The rhombus could hear people, as though from a vast distance, calling out to the triangle: "Take me, take me!" "I'll do anything!" It seemed like the whole world was trying to get closer to him; she thought she was the only one trying to move away, until she made it as far back as she could, where the crowd was thinning out, and caught a few other shapes in her peripheral vision who'd moved the same way. More than half the crowd was rushing in toward the triangle.

But apparently, it wasn't enough to satisfy him. "Come on, people!" That enthusiastic voice, halfway between a salesman and a camp counselor, was gone now. His voice went shrill with anxiety. "What's it gonna take?! I'm offering you idiots paradise, why won't you listen? Why don't you ever LISTEN TO ME?!"

For a moment, even though the triangle was completely hidden by the crowd, the rhombus could feel his fiery gaze sweep over her. She felt the way her skin threatened to burst into flames, and she knew he saw her.

She backed away until her rear angle bumped into the nearest building.

"Fine! You've had your chance! I've found my people!" The triangle's voice dropped to an angry snarl. "For all I care, the rest of you can burn."

For every hand that stretched out to the triangle, a black hand reached back toward them—dozens and dozens of hands. "Let's blow up this popsicle stand!"

He seized his new believers' hands.

Most of them instantly burst into flames.

Most of the rest were either jerked away into some unseeable direction like the baby had been, or else the burning ghost hand they were shaking yanked something out of them, leaving behind a dry corpse.

Reality warped and distorted in ways her eye couldn't make sense of: buildings wobbling and spilling apart like they were made of liquid; people twisting together with the buildings in sickening multi-corpsed abominations.

"Whoopsie!" The triangle let out a shrill, tittering laugh. It sounded pained. "S-still gotta get the hang of that. Oh well!" He spoke louder and faster. "I saved as many of you as I could, doing the best I can here, the rest of you don't matter, anyway byyye!"

And then he was gone.

And then they were all awake. She hadn't known they were asleep. Whatever happened hadn't been a mere shared nightmare; it was as though the layer of existence that dreams happened on had been pressed into the layer of existence where reality happened, and she hadn't even noticed until the pressure applied by the triangle lifted and the layers popped apart again.

The layers had popped apart too hard. Several of the shapes nearest the triangle that he hadn't taken with him instantly died—the tether between their souls on the plane of dreams and their bodies on the plane of reality snapped like overstretched rubber bands.

The fused corpse abominations had been left behind, still tangled and mangled with the architecture. The buildings were charred. The survivors were covered in burns they hadn't noticed—everywhere the triangle had looked was burned. Anything the triangle looked through was burned.

She was covered in burns. She could feel the burning inside her body. She raised her hands to her face and felt it peeling off.

She couldn't even feel the bright blue fires roaring down from the heavens.

And then something else lifted her out of the world, just before the reality around them began to burn.

She didn't know where all the people the triangle had taken had gone. But as she blacked out, of one thing she was sure: this higher dimension he'd claimed to see, this realm of stars and dreams? They weren't there.

Wherever they were, they'd gone down.

####

When the Axolotl emerged from the recorded memory, he was dizzy with horror. He had to lay down on the prefab planet next to the Vitruvian Mandala while he reeled.

"Are you all right?" the Vitruvian Mandala asked.

Broken, the Axolotl said, "he threw a baby."

"I know."

"Is the baby alright?"

Delicately, He said, "It's beyond the dimensions I'm able to sense."

The Axolotl curled his gills. Not the baby. "What about the rhombus?"

"Her body was too burned; she died shortly after this memory," the Vitruvian Mandala said. "But fortunately, only a small part of her ghost suffered third degree burns. With an ectoplasm graft she's expected to recovery enough to have a fairly normal afterlife. Inasmuch as any afterlife can be considered 'normal' for My people now."

The Axolotl had noted how many ghosts were mingling with the living mortals when he arrived on this planet. He hadn't wanted to say anything; he didn't know whether that was normal for their people. "I can give you the contact rituals of some interdimensional psychopomps I respect. Very professional and compassionate gods." Although they'd be cursing the Axolotl's name for millennia for throwing so much work on their desks.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

The Axolotl returned the memory disc to the Vitruvian Mandala; He momentarily stared into it Himself before returning it to His collection. "He gave speeches like this all across My populated worlds. I've retrieved thousands of memories like this from My people." His voice shook; the Axolotl couldn't tell if it was with anger or grief. "There would have been more—if more had survived."

"I'm so sorry." He didn't know what else he could do for the poor god but be sorry. All the senseless, slapdash slaughter. All of it so casual and accidental.

"Why?" the Vitruvian Mandala demanded. "He didn't speak like he meant My people harm, but he couldn't have done them more harm if he'd tried! I've never heard of him before—what is he, some malevolent trickster god? Why did he do it"

"Because... he thought he was saving them." That was the only thing the Axolotl could cling to.

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 5 of a 7-or-8-or-9 part fic that keeps getting more parts, about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl run out of ways to pretend Bill didn't destroy his own dimension.

It's ALSO chapter 61 Part Five of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: Bill got SO CLOSE to looking like a misguided good guy last chapter, and that's why he had to throw a baby.

No actually it was because it seemed really really funny. Flipped that flat little thing like a pancake.

Due to real-world reasons, this is another chapter that isn't as edited & polished as usual, so let me know if you noticed any rough spots that need buffing. And let me know what you think! Bill with his cult leader persona cranked up to 100% is probably the hardest Bill to write.)

#gravity falls axolotl #the axolotl #(for the actual chapter)#bill cipher #(for the art. and also the chapter)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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archiveikemen · 1 day ago

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Jude Jazza Main Story: Preview

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

My sin is— an unfulfilled promise.

It all started with a single promise I blurted out in the heat of the moment.

…

Kate: Until my time as the Fairytale Keeper comes to an end, I’ll keep looking for something I can love about you.

Jude: Remember one thing, Princess. … My “promises” ain’t cheap.

Jude: If ya break yer promise, I’ll show ya a livin’ hell that’ll make ya wish ya were dead.

Jude Jazza, a member of Crown and president of a trading company. He was an arrogant, merciless, unforgiving villain. He was… exactly the despicable jerk my first impression and his reputation warned me of.

…

Kate: If you keep going out of your way to make enemies, incurring the enmity of others, and putting yourself in more danger… you’ll… end up dead, you know?

Jude: Ha? What’s it to ya if I die from all the grudges against me?

Jude: Don’t go actin’ all righteous and stickin’ yer nose where it don’t belong, idiot.

Jude: No passin’ out now. Ya still owe me two rounds, mister.

Amidst the endless cycle of revenge, he laughed in joy.

He was a cruel man who delighted in the misery of others. There was no way I could ever come to love someone like him.

But if I didn't fulfil my promise, it would be a breach of our contract— and I would become his prey.

…

As I desperately tried to find something to love about him, we slowly grew closer— and the promise he wanted to fulfil became apparent.

Jude: Ain’t laughin’? That’s rare.

Kate: I’m not going to laugh. While it’s true that you’re narrow-minded, arrogant, cruel, greatly disliked, and a true villain right to the core…

Jude: Go on.

Kate: … No matter who they are, I would never laugh at someone’s genuine dream.

That night, when we shared things about ourselves that we never revealed to other people— I found myself falling into the depths of love.

… Because I fell in love with him, I realised things I never wanted to… like his true feelings.

…

Kate: — You really should stop making any more enemies, in order to fulfil the promise.

Kate: And yet… you’re crossing dangerous bridges on purpose.

Jude: … What ya tryin’ to say?

(The truth is, Jude is…)

(He’s…)

Kate: Do you want to give up?

Jude: …

Jude: So what if I am?

In this world where no amount of grudges, hatred, or cries can bring back what was lost— you’re more exhausted than anyone from carrying the burden of a promise you can't forget.

…

Kate: I…!

Jude: Love’s a curse.

Jude: Sayin’ “I love you” is like sayin’”I’ll put a curse on you.”

Jude: It hurts when ya lose it, ya hate it when it’s taken from ya, and it’s unforgivable if ya get betrayed.

Jude: And yet, ya can’t resist it once it’s given to ya. Love’s the root of all evil.

Jude: I don’t wanna curse nobody, nor be cursed myself.

There's no saving you from love. It only brings you pain and suffering.

As I was crushed by this undeniable truth, a dark shadow crept up on me.

…

???: Don’t move. Put your hands up…!

???: Crown member Jude Jazza, you're under arrest by the order of Her Majesty's private army,

Ellis: Jude.

Jude: Ellis, stay outta this.

Kate: Why!?

Ellis: … He’s probably being framed.

…

Even if you reject my love, even if you push me away, I’ll keep clinging to you.

But while on the run, you…

Jude: That’s enough. This time, I’m endin’ our contract.

Jude: I got nothin’ to do with ya anymore. Don’t care how ya do it, just get outta my sight.

Kate: What… how could you… you said it yourself that a one-sided cancellation of the contract is invalid!

Kate: I refuse. I want to be together with you—

Jude: … Kate.

He touched his fingers to my forehead.

He was all I could see as he gave me a pained smile.

Jude: I thought it was stupid of ya to go lookin’ for something to love about me.

Jude: But bein’ genuinely liked without an ulterior motive… doesn't feel so bad.

Jude: — Good night, Princess.

…

It was unbelievable how he put me to sleep, ignoring my wishes, and did as he pleased.

That arrogant, cruel, unforgiving villain.

And yet, because I was in love with him—

I wasn't going to forgive him so easily for abandoning me after saying his piece.

When I woke up, I chased after the 13th fairy… and cast a curse on him.

An merciless, unbreakable curse called love.

…

Jude: Of all people, I’ll make sure that ya never feel unhappy. And ya ain’t allowed to leave me, either.

Jude: That's the price for castin’ this curse on me.

Let’s make a promise— even if it curses you.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikevil translations #otome #ikevil main story #jude main story #jude jazza

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that-one-malereader-enthusiast · 2 days ago

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 || 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

⟩ Part One | » Part Two « ⟨

cw : MDNI - s1 Lestat, top male reader, sub Lestat, jealous Lestat, i bagged a baddie by being autistic aesthetic, nsfw, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of death, mentions of homophobia, inappropriate use of lipstick, lestat crashes out bad, y'all are on your own with the french translations, goodluck, anon request. wc : 12.8k

Lestat adored you as much as you worshiped him on bended knee. In your mind, you knew you threaded a line that could lead to a prosperous life, or one that would end in an instance. You were more than knowledge about the mans’ power and true nature, but your heart—your heart was his completely.

The vampire was more than familiar with those who'd been enthralled with him. Wanting to occupy his space, his life, his bed, his lips even, but you? He had such a sick fascination to keep you around and in his current immortal life, and then some. He did not proclaim love, even though it was obvious with the affection he smothered you in and vice versa.

What he couldn't stand, was the eyes of others roaming your body, thoughts wild and with hunger for you. Strangers ready to take you away from him, to indulge in sweet whispers and rough touches throughout the night. No one deserved your praise, your love, your adoration. To take his sun away, the shining star in his seemingly everlasting life?

Any man or woman who so much as gazed upon your divine form would meet with the cold hands of death much sooner than fate designed.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Ma bien-aimée, could you carry me to my coffin?”

You could barely register the words Lestat spoke as his lips pressed against the top of your head. Sitting up from your current position, you tilted your head up to meet the others' gaze. His eyes seduced you entirely without even trying, your half lidded eyes holding nothing but love and adoration for the man below you. “Ain't ya’ got legs? I've been much rougher than this before Les.” Your voice rumbled in a slightly deeper pitch seeing as you'd just woken up.

Your nude bodies seemed to shift and brush over each other as you moved. The couches weren't the best places to have such intimate moments, but you knew Lestat didn't have a bed, even for show. You knew of a guest room not too far off from his own, and that maybe he could have one there, but you never got the chance to mention it to him.

Lestat made a choked sound as you pulled away from his body, a ripple of warmth shooting up his spine. You'd gently chewed against your bottom lip as you pulled out and away from Lestat, feeling him cling onto what he could before the connection was broken. “Bien-aimé, tu es grand même quand tu dors,” he muttered to himself.

“Want me to run ya’ a bath Les?”

“It is too close to sunrise, I will take one later.”

“You sure? Wouldn't want to get your coffin all dirty.” You managed to find undergarments which had nearly been ripped to shreds with how eager Lestat had been. He'd vented out his frustrations, how Louis seemed to be avoiding him for some time now after — what he described as — having a blissful night of exotic wonders in each other's embrace. Not that you minded Lestat laying with others, just as he didn't judge you for being as queer as you were.

Ever since Lestat pulled you in, Louis had grown uneasy around you, almost as if he disliked you. You'd spoken to him before, but he dismissed you or ignored you most times — caring not for how you looked, how you acted, nor where you were from. It was truly as if he didn't want anything to do with you.

“I can always buy a new one, but if it is your mess, I don't mind it reeking of you for a while.”

You couldn't tell if that was an insult or a compliment, but you didn't take it to heart. “Well Les, was wonder’n if you wanted to see a show tomorrow, or maybe perform tonight. Haven't heard you play on stage in a while now!” Your arms maneuvered themselves under Lestats' legs and back before he proceeded to hook his arms around your neck.

“I would love to, really, but I have pressing matters to get to tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You almost seemed sad at that moment as you carried Lestat up the stairs, and apparently it was shown on your face as well.

“Stop that, you look like a kicked puppy when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That…that face. You pout, you give me those eyes, almost begging for something. I will spare time to perform, I promise, but...I have plans at the moment.”

That was the last conversation you could remember having with the vampire before he seemed to disappear like smoke. He stopped visiting, stopped showing around, and suddenly you were alone. It almost seemed wrong, to go out into town by yourself, running your business without seeing him flaunt around you or sit on his lap. It was odd. But you knew what he was, what he truly was. A creature of the night. A God compared to the mortal you were.

And all you could do is wish longingly for his return.

For his touch.

For his voice.

For his love.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You looked down at yourself, feeling a little overdressed for the occasion – even though it was a wedding – suits and ties never truly felt like you. Lestat was the fashionista, so to speak. One who loved to dress you up like a doll, having dragged you from tailor to tailor after one glance at your wardrobe. Though he never really complained with the way your suspenders seemed to shape your ass perfectly – perfectly enough that he felt the need to cop a feel whenever you dawned them.

In your hand you fiddled the RSVP that had been recently slipped through your mailslot, thumb running over the engraving on the card and your heart throbbing within your ears. Yes, Louis had a very caring sister that adored you, but you felt odd appearing at the wedding after Louis made every attempt to cut you out of his life. “Grace invited you,” you muttered to yourself, hearing the yard flood with noise, now realizing just how many people occupied said space. “If they didn’t want you here, they wouldn't have invited you…�� You tried to coach yourself as nervousness wracked the entirety of your body, but it only seemed to worsen with every passing minute.

Your normal social butterfly self seemed to turn into more of a wallflower. Most of the people there knew the family and the couple – whether they be relatives or childhood friends – but you felt like a stranger within it all. Just the oddball bumpkin who’d started running the club down the lane. Nothing special. The sun was still out, and at that moment you had doubts that Lestat would be around. It almost felt like you needed him to hold your hand, at least to settle your buzzing nerves. Unfortunately, last you heard was that Lestat left a rather unsavory impression on the family, or so they say.

Sitting in the farthest seat you could, you sat and waited, watching the couple say their vows and declare their love for eachother. You could almost hear the nagging of your Ma and Memaw now, asking when you were going to bring some pretty girl around one day rather than a sack of potatoes over your shoulder. Wondering when they’ll get grandchildren from you. Your eyes left the couple as they jumped the broom, clapping your hands in a celebratory fashion with a sad smile appearing on your lips. Would marriage even be a chance in your future? Children even?

As you reminisced on your somber past, the evening seemed to turn into night and with the night came blaring music, laughter, and talk. Everyone seemed so happy, yet you'd kept your eye out for the blonde man who'd yet to crash said wedding. You could only assume that the two men didn’t end up on a good note, at least on Louis' side, seeing as Lestat spoke of him often to you. He always spoke of what was troubling him, his woes and worries as you two would share the couch and sometimes even your own bed.

“There you are! Been lookin’ all over for you!” Your shoulders jumped in surprise, the wine you were sipping on hitting the back of your throat as you tried your best to clear it. Grace made her way over with her now newly wedded husband in tow, holding the hem of her dress so as to not drag it on the ground. “Oh don’t try to hide yourself now country boy, where have you been?” She gave a playful pinch against your arm, none too painful, but she seemed much stronger than she looked.

Rubbing against the area on you arm after placing down the glass, you offered a shy smile in return. “Well, I assumed I wasn’t…welcome here. Family is a joy to be around, but I wasn’t sure all of you enjoyed being around me, is all.” You made a small pained noise as the smaller woman called you out by your name and you were pinched once again – in the same spot no less. You glanced down and then to the female, head tilted to the side in a questionable fashion, as if wondering why she was beating you up so badly.

“Boy, don’t let Mamaw hear that! She loved having your company, much better than that French White Louis is doin…business with, something about him just don’t sit right with me. But you? You’re sweeter than a pot of honey, and Paul seems to have taken a liking to you!”

“More than what most could say.” Levi gestured to himself, knowing that Paul cared not for him or the fact that Levi seemed to have married with his sister.

“Paul’ll warm up…one day, though I think he is just be’n protective is all. His darling sister being carried away with someone he barely knows, I could understand his worries,” you chided. You knew all too well how that felt, the protectiveness and all. A fleeting memory if anything. “Not to mention he certainly doesn’t like the fact that you are not wholly faithful to the name of the Lord and Christ. You know how he is Levi, just be happy he didn’t do anything rash during the vows…” As you spoke to the married couple you could feel eyes practically piercing through the side of your head. Your gaze slowly drifted, flickering past guests and family friends that seemed to mingle between each other.

You blinked almost feverishly as you came to see Louis staring directly at you, bewildered and almost unsure if you were really there. He didn’t come to confront you – no – but instead saw your gaze match his before going back to the slice of cake he was indulging himself in while with his brother. Though that didn’t stop him from glancing over every now and then. “And please, Ma du lac doesn’t need to know what I thought. I was just worried is all. Louis doesn’t seem to like me all too much at the moment. I can’t find what needle got stuck in his ass, but the moment I do, I’ll yank that grumpy mug completely. That way he won’t be runnin around frown’n all the damn time.”

Grace practically cackled as such a thought, wiping away a stray tear before gently touching against the spot she pinched, though now you were on high alert in case she decided to bruise you anymore than she’s already done. “Well, know that you’re welcome here and that I’m very happy you came. Enjoy yourself country boy. Looks like you may have needed a day out anyways. You look like a lost puppy over here at the table! For someone who runs a club, I didn’t take you as the shy type of man. I can introduce you to some people if you’d like.”

“No need!” You quickly held your hands up and laughed it off. “I’m just not used to gatherings like this I guess. I’ve only been here for a few months, so being invited to your wedding – it wasn’t what I was expect’n. Anyhow, I can mingle by myself, I assure you. You two enjoy your night, Grace,” giving a short nod as a farewell to the female, you did the same to her partner. “– Levi.”

It wasn’t long before you found yourself far from most of the commotion, picking at the plate of chocolate cake that you happened to pick up.

“Didn’t expect you to be here…”

What was it with the Du lacs’ and their ability to scare you, while compromised with food or a drink no less? You cleared your throat before turning to Louis who didn’t look none too pleased to see your face. “Well, I said this before, I’ll say it again. I didn’t expect to be here neither. Your…Your sister invited me last minute. I was hesitant to even come, I didn’t want to…upset you more than I already have bein’ around here and all.”

Louis had always been a wildcard to you. He was a smart man, you knew that, but he was always shot down and put under the boot of the white man because of the color of his skin. You found it insulting that the world today would treat those with different colors and tints to their skin like stray dogs – tossing them scraps when they feel sorry, a sliver of a bone when they do something that pleases them, a collar…when they want someone loyal to work for them. But if they grew tired of them, found even the slightest bit of fight or defiance? They’d dispose of them or throw them in a hole they wouldn’t be able to dig themselves out of.

You knew discrimination when you saw it, heard it even. And you knew first hand how it felt, even with your own family looking down on you, not because of the way you looked, but because of what you presented yourself as. Louis had a name for himself, but respect was rarely a two way street when someone of a higher status spoke to him. But you saw yourself as equals, human beings. There was no ill will you bore towards him, but you couldn’t understand the ill will he held towards you.

Seeing as Louis hadn’t responded, you found yourself a bit awkward and out of place. “Seems I’ve…overstayed my welcome. Tell Paul I said hello, I'll get out of your hair.”

“Wait–” Suddenly you felt a hand grip against your arm, tugging you gently before a sigh came from the other. “Look, I…I don’t hate you man. Grace chewed me out good when I told her I didn’t care to see your face around. I guess I just – I don’t know, I haven’t been myself lately is all. I’ve been a little unfair to you. Hell, even Paul says you're a walking angel…or something like that? What I’m saying is, I judged you too harshly before gettin’ to know you.” In that moment, Louis spoke with sincerity in his voice, though all you could hope is that it came from the heart as well.

“If that’s your way of apologizing, I ain’t complaining.” There was a cheeky smile that appeared on your face before you gave the other a knowing look. “If you wanted to really say you’re sorry, I’d love to see an encore of – what did you call it? The ‘ABCDEFGs’, was it?”

“Oh god, now don’t you go start’n nothin man!” Louis playfully punched your shoulder and flashed his brilliant white teeth as a smile appeared against his face. A much better look than him always running around with a frown, is what you thought.

“Well, I ain’t never seen nobody tap their feet like that, ain’t had a clue that the Louis du lac knew how to put on a show!” You joked on.

“Yeah, and it’s a first – and the last time you see’n any of that. You lucky it’s Graces wedding, I’d have been halfway down the quarter the moment those shoes came out if it wasn’t.” Louis let out a bit of laughter as you two seemed to go back and forth. He assumed that maybe he just had a little too much wine or maybe one too many slices of cake, that the sugar and the alcohol was getting to him. How did he not notice how much of a joy it was to be around you?

You didn’t bring anything dreary or depressing to the table, nor did you try to flex wealth or name to him, even upon meeting him. Maybe he’d invite you around more, for dinners, maybe an outing if he had time between handling his own work. It was a moment between you two before both your laughters died down and the voices of others clambering about reached your ears. The space between the two of you was impregnated by a comfortable silence shared, though it seemed as if something was being held back.

“So how has–”

“So how have you–”

You both stopped and chuckled before you nodded your head towards Louis. “Go ahead, and don’t fight me on it. If you do, I’ll forget what I was tryin to tell ya in the first place. It happens a lot, believe me. I got it in my head, so–” You then gestured for him to continue as you had started a quick ramble, trying to keep your question at bay and at the forefront of your mind before it disappeared.

“Right…?” He spoke, squinting at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Was just wondering, how you and Lestat was doin’ is all. Curious.” It seemed as if he was just as uncomfortable as he was eager for an answer when saying his name. You couldn’t blame him. Lestat was on Louis like a tick on a dog before you appeared, and after? It seemed like you were his new attraction, though after whatever disagreement or argument they last had, Louis seemed to have given him the cold shoulder.

“Honestly?...I’m not much sure myself. Figure he done got tired of lil old me is all. Haven’t seen him in some time now, a few weeks or so. Nothing to get all down about really. Flaunted about how I made him laugh and..a little more, but nothin special Louis. Last I heard, Les was looking for you. Kept wondering why it seemed like you were hidin’ from him.” You spoke truthfully as Louis’ brows furrowed together in thought before he swatted his hand.

“I stopped doing business with him. I figured I’m good on my own as is. It just wasn’t a right fit is all. Better that he’s not around no more. I can actually focus for once.” Picking up the wine glass he once abandoned while speaking to you, he took a sip before continuing, pointing a finger at you with the same hand that held said drink.. “So, what was it that you wanted to ask me?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but clearly the thought had already gone like the wind. Louis took that silence into consideration before sighing.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you forgot?”

“Slipped my mind a bit, yeah,” you say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head as you watched Louis smile behind his cup, shaking his head at your antics. “If I can’t remember, it couldn’t have been that important!” Though truth be told, you had another question now rolling about in your mind. Did he know about what Lestat truly was under the guise of being this charming foreigner who stumbled across such a place?

“Anyways, besides still handling the club right now, I’ve been enjoying the daylight hours much more. Sometimes…club gets boring. Same band playing twice that week? Pass. Place won’t burn down or go under if I leave for a night or two to sleep. Been visiting, though everyone said you’d been busy or asleep for the most part. Guess stopin to smell the roses every once in a while ain’t too bad.”

Louis returned a small smile to you. “You seem like you’re doing alright for yourself,” he praised, patting you on the shoulder. “If you ever need any help, I’m around. And from what I know so far, Grace ain’t gon’ leave you alone no way. If she had it her way, you’d be another brother I’d have to take care of.”

“Take care of? Me? I think that would be my job if anything. And look, Levi is already lookin at me like I’mma steal his wife away. It ain’t my fault she likes my company so much! Well that and she’s been craving those sugar cookies I brought some months ago. Promised I’d share the recipe at one point or another.” Suddenly you made a pained face as Louis slapped your arm in the exact spot that Grace pinched you, twice.

“Those were yours?!”

Rubbing against your poor sore arm, you nodded.“Yeah? Look, I can’t cook actual meals without damn near burning down half the block. I’m more useless than a pair of tits on a horse in the kitchen! Baking, that’s when you can be messy on purpose and try all sorts of stuff in the kitchen.”

Louis sighed with a grin on his lips before looking at you, this time having claimed the knowing look. “Well, now you’ll have me pounding at your door whenever I have a sweet tooth. Could have sworn they were some sort of imported sweets or somethin like that. Grace nearly took my hand for the last one.”

“I don’t doubt that, but she’ll take more than just your hand iffen she hears you getting the recipe before her.”

“Oh you know she wouldn’t do anything that crazy…”

The two of you paused and then glanced at each other for a split second before bursting out into laughter. Louis was half kneeled over while holding an arm against his stomach all while you tried to keep your balance with one hand on the table directly behind you. It took about a minute or two for the both of you to calm down, Louis wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Didn’t mean to have you all tickled t..tonight,” you stated as you proceeded to calm yourself down.

“I think they put something in the wine, I’m telling you.” Louis held up his nearly finished glass before turning and hearing you yawn. It was getting late, but for him, this was most likely going to be an all night event.

“I should be headin back to my place. Been up all day as nervous as a bull in a nursery. Not a wink of sleep either. Was worried I’d be out of place or that I was overdressed, or that the invite slipped through the wrong mailslot.” You never normally had anxiety play such a big part in your life, but it had you running rampant all morning.

Unable to think properly, your room was still a mess after throwing clothes out of the closet and stressing about what looks best with your favorite pair of boots. Lestat would have known how to dress you accordingly – now that was something that you truly missed. He refused to let you go out looking like a hot mess, though he didn’t mind dragging that hot mess around a corner and doing whatever came to mind when he felt like it.

“I take the blame for that. Shouldn’t have made you feel like I hated you so much. You’re pretty alright…’country boy’.” There was once again a grin on Louis face at the teasing name, noticing the eye roll as you soon said your goodbyes. As Grace called for her brother and you snuck another swig of wine on your way out, your exit was cut short by someone stepping right in front of you. And to your surprise, it was Paul.

Paul.

A sweet boy, his mother calling him fragile while others outside the family called in delusional. You weren’t one to ever judge, and you weren’t starting either. You were one of the few people who listened to Paul truly, not from being a patron of the church, not being paid in anyway. You knew his mind was different from others, but he was still flesh and blood, still human.

He never hurt anyone, and to call him crazy was more of an insult to him, and would do no good. You never thought he was crazy, not once. Just blessed in a different way, though you couldn’t help but to have your concerns. When he spoke to himself, knowing he’s been in and out of the institution, and how everyone seemed to worry – it would keep anyone on edge. But everytime he spoke to you, he never gave you any trouble. He was loved, and you could only hope that he kept a good head on his shoulders.

“Paul! It’s nice to see you again! I was just askin–” Suddenly he grabbed both your arms, a worried look appearing on your face as you looked back at his own concerned form.

“Are you still talking to him? That..”

“Les? No..I ain’t spoke to him in sometime. Is everything…okay Paul?”

“Keep away from him.” He spoke in urgency. “Louis is being dragged by that man – no – that devil. He ain’t got his claws in you yet, he’s tryin. Don’t let him take your wings, your light, please.” Paul warned, though his grip was as if you were going to disappear if he even thought to let you go. “Are you faring well? The birds asked about you, about your mind.”

“I’ve been alright, I assure you Paul. I want to put your uneasiness to rest, I’m takin’ good care of myself and can only hope that you are too.” You placed your hands against his own arms, giving him a reassuring squeeze before seeing him nod slightly, letting his grip slide and hands fall to his sides. “Been thinkin about what I’mma do with myself. Only job I have is running the club currently, I’ve started taking breaks though. Feels good, clearing my mind a much as my body. Sometimes you need a break from the loud music and attention, it gets to be too much for some people – for me. Being in the company of a good book at the end of the day can sometimes cleanse the soul.”

It wasn’t until then that a thought came to mind and you dug in your pocket, pulling out a silver chain necklace with a dove and a cross charm dangling from it. “Meant to give you this a while ago. Was from my own. I thought that maybe you’d find better use in it than me.”

Paul blinked for a moment, looking at the necklace in slight awe and confusion as it puddled into his hand, the chiliness of the metal bringing slight goosebumps. He looked at the piece of jewelry before rapidly shaking his head, balling his hand around it before trying to stuff it back in your hands, “I can’t – I couldn’t, you need them. Close to your heart.”

“Paul, please...I don’t mind. They would probably want it this way anyhow, not like any of my family’s gon ask about it anyhow.” As Paul opened his hand to drop the necklace in your palms, he could no longer feel it as your hands wrapped around his one. When you pulled away, none of you had it in your hands. Instead, it was somewhat wrapped around his wrist, a little trick you learned some time ago.

“I have to go, Paul, but I’ll see you soon, alright? Tell Ma du Lac I said hello, and make sure that brother of yours behaves!” You called out as you started making your way out of the yard, having eaten and drank your fill, and knowing Paul had yet to realize the necklace was on his wrist. When he did, he’d do his best to give it back to you, but you’d be too far gone for that to happen.

As you finally made your escape, you listened to the band play and as the music got further and further as you walked your way home. It was some distance away, but you couldn’t trust yourself to drive – not like many people trusted you behind the wheel anyways. You assumed that you would simply resume the life you lived before Lestat – thinking that he may have left the city, found some other enjoyment elsewhere, but he didn’t seem like the type to do so. That didn’t sound like your Lestat.

Your thoughts paused for a moment and a frown appeared on your lips. He wasn’t truly yours. You didn’t know what relationship the two of you shared, though his sweet words always seemed to seduce you back into his arms.

But you could say the same, how whenever you swooned over him, he seemed to melt right into your arms, begging you to tell him what he may have missed from being busy the days prior, or to simply know what thoughts were running through your head. And you knew his tricks – that he was more than fully capable of reading your mind, yet he would ask you. He would sprawl across your body like a common house cat while you’d yammer on, combing your fingers through his blonde locks while he cooed in his french tongue.

Shaking your head and trying to rid of the bittersweet memory that left an odd taste in your mouth, instead savoring the night you spent speaking with Louis and his family, not knowing what sort of darkness would soon befall them once the sun rose.

The rest of your night was spent in the comforts of your room, spending a few hours cleaning, biding time, too exhausted to manage a club and too caught in your own thoughts to go chasing after Lestat like a dog. You knew where he stayed, but he was free spirited. Did what he want when he wanted. Did as he pleased. Who were you, a small country boy who stumbled upon a vampire – who would you be to try and stop him? You could have prowled in the nighttime to try and look for him, but at the end of the day, he was the vampire, and you?

Human.

Your days and nights turned normal, more than you really wanted. There was no thrill, no real spark other than the new people that appeared every now and then at the club, new faces, new performances. And as the name of your club spread throughout the south, your name grew in popularity. There was a time where you’d presented yourself on stage after weeks of new encounters, introducing yourself before the main performance came on. Apparently your pre-show talk had the audience in tears, laughing, clapping, and asking for more.

You had a way about yourself to somehow make the room that much brighter. Comedy was now your limelight, though it didn’t take a genius to know that things came to you naturally. It wasn’t normal for cubs at the time, but it was your business after all.

Outside the club, a few weeks after the wedding, you learned of Pauls’ passing. You stopped by to state your condolences to the family, and even happened to ask where Louis went. When you finally got in touch with Grace – seeing as his Mama had nothing good to say about him – she said he’d done ran off. Whether it be the guilt of not being able to protect his brother from themself or because of all the sudden burdens he felt collapse onto him all at once. You knew Louis was probably devastated, but his sudden disappearance? It had Lestat written all over it, though you had once again heard nothing from one or the other, so what was the point in chasing after a ghost?

The next few months, Lestat seemed to fade into the back of your mind, nearly forgotten. Your days grew busier and the months grew bitter. Life went on as if the vampire never existed. Grace and yourself wrote weekly when you didn’t have time to visit and vice versa. She’d attended one of your shows when she had the time, with Levi in tow and the two even agreed that you were quite the comedian, though they weren’t much club goers.

Of course it wasn’t an every night thing and you had most definitely started to enjoy the mornings where you could occupy yourself and destress from the night before. Having to be around people, entertain, greet, drink, talk with others everyday got tiring real fast. If you didn’t catch a break or have a little ‘you’ time, people would start seeing a not-so friendly side of you that only showed up if you were woken up rudely. Overstimulated, if you will.

There were nights where you grew lonely, where the words on a page couldn’t serve much as companions. Not that Shakespere was the best partner in crime, but it did some to escape the dry and plain days that left you bored itching for something new. You weren’t one to walk the strip, not with the people that normally ran past those parts. You had no problem with the girls, but at the moment, none seemed to fit your taste, and none too many men were as open as you were.

You got the occasional gossip from one Jane to the other John – how people questioned the way you dressed, the way you spoke, how you acted between man and woman and who’s attention you’d seek out the most. You didn’t let such a thing get to your head, whether it was discrimination for which way your pendulum swung or otherwise.

But it didn’t seem to stop trouble from coming your way.

Occasional threats in the mail, rocks thrown at your windows in the dead of night, your car tires being slashed and car scratched to hell, yet no one ever knew how it happened or who did it. None of your neighbors knew, turning a blind eye and moving on. Typical. Getting replacements weren’t much of a problem, not when the club paid most of the bills, but it was a constant reminder of how people saw you, and how they would treat you like any other they found to be different.

The worst of it happened when you were stuck walking home one night, all by your lonesome and of course you just happened to stumble upon a group of soldiers, sailors – whoever they were – who’d either heard about you or seen one of your shows. A quiet walk turned into a limp home, bruises adorning your body and a soreness coming from your ribs. You knew better, knew how to defend yourself and de-escalate things when the heat rose.

Unfortunately you’d been dealt the shit hand. Having been up against two, you may have had better chances, but five men that were drunk off their asses? There was no chance for you, and at that rate, it was better to cover your head and tuck while they dealt whatever repressed rage onto your body. Nearly gave you a shiner — instead delivering you a rather nasty gash through your left brow. Thankfully your body took more blows, but the soreness would just be another thing to sleep off.

After all, it was just another Friday night for you – and another one-liner for your comedy act.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Another champagne for you Mr…”

“Nah, not right now, but thank you Miss Rosey, though I think the boys in booth four might need another round. And if they are giving you any trouble–”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll know if they’ll cause trouble for me!” The server gave you a mischievous smile and a wink before she made her way over to the designated booth while you were left to your lonesome in your own private booth. You’d been listening to the band play for about half an hour before you started to tune it out, the noise fading into the background as you inked paper on folded knee. You’d started writing after some time, whether it was your thoughts or not, you weren’t quite sure. The words flowed like music, maybe more, but it was hard to decipher yourself. They were just words after all, blurbs, word vomit that you needed to get out before the thoughts left you. As you were feverishly writing, line after line, you heard your name in an almost questionable fashion. The first time it seemed to be a blur in between the music, maybe just a buzzing in the back of your head.

The second time seemed to focus you back to reality, the music coming back as loud and as blaring as it was before. Your head turned up, brows furrowing as a man stood in front of the circular table that separated the half circle booth and themselves. “Sorry, I…I was a little too focused on myself, need something?” The paper on which you wrote on was slipped and closed into a small booklet that you now settled on the table. The man that called out your name was not someone you’d seen before or even met – and you were damn good with names and faces, a little quirk that always kept people on their toes.

“I was just wondering if you were the owner of said establishment, heard a bunch of people yapping about it so I came over to chat was all!” He held a hand out to you before finally introducing himself. “Name’s Viktor Sawyer, new around here.”

“I can tell,” you replied, gripping his hand before shaking it. “You don’t sound like you’re from here no way. Where’d you hightail it from kiddo?”

“Kiddo?” He laughed, “You look just as young as me, maybe younger. But me? I’m from upstate. Took a heap load of train rides, boat down the Mississippi, ended up here after an all day ride in the back of a box car after my last ticket was stolen.” The man seemed to joke at the end of his sentence, but it was all too real for how easy it was for some people to get pickpocketed. “Mind if I?...” Viktor then gestured to the booth in which you rolled your head and patted against the booth.

“Oh, I don’t mind, but the ghost might find it pretty rude if you give them an unwanted lapdance.” As you shrugged and looked at the young man, they stared back at you with confusion before a small chuckle left their lips, understanding that you were simply poking fun at the moment.

“I’m sure the ‘ghost’ wouldn’t mind it at all. Probably the most action than they’ve had in some years, yeah?” He joked right back, sending a quirky smile of your own onto your face. It'd been sometime since someone tended to match your energy, not that you were complaining.

“Champagne?” You offered up, tilting your glass towards the side. “And you can't just say you’re from upstate and expect me not to be curious. Down here, we ain't much for keeping secrets, and I ain't got no ill will towards strangers, so don't be shy.” Gesturing for one of the server girls, you two would be sharing words for the majority of the night.

Now, your club was as thriving as all get up, but there was always a drawback as it was back in the days. Only certain people could get in, people with money, people with a name. No old Sam on the street could just waltz their way in, it was almost prestigious in a way. Not like you cared much for the highlights, seeing as you came to New Orleans a simple man with ideas of starting new. Of making your name for yourself. It almost happened overnight – it did happen overnight.

It wasn’t to be expected, but it was a pleasant surprise. The thought of the blonde vampire, creature of darkness, the man who seduced you with not only words, but his entirety…he’d done so much for you. And all you did was make him laugh. A joyful, boyish, carefree laugh as if he hadn’t laughed in centuries. True laughter, pure, not from a cruel dead or joke – not to spite someone – it was simply the joy he amounted by being with you.

Beyond the past thoughts of Lestat, you indulge yourself in Viktor Sawyer, a businessman from New York. After getting a few drinks in him, he spoke about his travels and the unsavory events that came with it. He was a workaholic as much as he was an alcoholic. He was looking for work, a partnership more like but he didn’t specify what. He had been twice divorced, let slip out that he seemed to dance to a different tune – not that you minded – but three hours passed and he was drunk on booze and wine.

He was a good six foot tall man, granted, he was a handsome fellow. Piercing green eyes, slick, short blonde hair, the suit he wore looked too tight on him. At one point the two of you were laughing at nonsense yet you were still somewhat sober, having only sipped through a glass or two while Viktor had ordered something a little stronger – had enough money to pay past the bill and even laid out a grand tip for the waitress.

Which led you to where you were now, roaming the streets of the quarter with a drunk businessman on your shoulder. It wasn't a great look for you as allegations and rumors were soon to spread, but at such a late time in the night others would probably be as drunk as Viktor was. His words were slurred but it seemed he was trying to flirt with you, hand running down the side of your neck and down your chest, doing his best to fiddle with the buttons on your white dress shirt.

And with him unable to tell you where he was staying, your only other option was to either leave him to some mugger or – to be a gentleman and let him sleep off the drinks for the night under a roof.

You just wished that it didn’t have to be yours.

By the time you’d gotten through the front door, Viktor draped over your own body like he was trying to be worn, you sighed heavily. “Alright Vik, gonna get you some water, let ya rest till the morn.” You were somewhat tired, seeing as your nights and days blurred and your body always needed a good 12 hours before it could get used to your odd schedule. You watched as the businessman seemed to flop himself on the couch with a bit of your guidance as well, reaching up to try and tug you down with him, “Vik–”

“Ain’t gotta be like that sweetheart, just returning the favor!” Viktor had already stripped off whatever overcoat was on his body, his breath reeking of alcohol as it wafted against your face. It caused you to inwardly cringe at the smell, but you knew the man was drunk off his ass. You weren’t much in the mood either, not like you’d seen much action in some time. But the man was intoxicated as hell and you weren’t interested. He leaned in close, trying to hold your face before you snatched yourself away.

“Viktor, come on buddy. I can’t do this, believe me. You’re a…nice guy and all but uh…”

“Oh baby please, you were lookin’ at me like I was a damn meal back at the club. Don’t tell me ya’ kept me laughing just for kicks?” He slurred, leaning in once more and almost placing his entire body weight onto you. Is that what he thought? That you wanted to get him into bed, even though it simply seemed like you two were just having a good time as newly acquainted friends. “Come on babes, you know how to have a fun time, right?”

Your eyes rolled as you helped Viktor onto his feet once more, watching as he stumbled to try and finger your shirt off. Even as you led him into your room and pushed him onto the bed, he sat back with a cocky grin upon his face. “Nuff with the nicknames ‘Slick’. Imma get you some water, now lay ya’ ass down. I brought you here because you could barely tell me where you were stay’n. Now, cool down before I do what my ma would do and beat the sense out and back into ya’.”

It was only then that when you turned around to walk away, your arm was grabbed and suddenly you were pulled into his lap. Yes, you could handle yourself against the man, not afraid of him at the least. You’d dealt with much scarier than a horny, boozed up businessman.

Scoffing, you felt his sloppy movements of his arm wrapping around your waist and a hand at the front of your throat. No wonder he was twice divorced with such a limp wrist on him. You didn’t care about how he seemed to whisper in your ear or try to kiss against your neck. It only made you retract, snatching yourself away again before hearing Viktor almost whine out. “Baby–”

“I ain’t ya’ baby, Viktor,” you stated plainly, back towards the man before continuing. “And don’t make me regret doing the right thing.”

“Taking me home?”

“Taking you in rather than leave’n you out of the street!” It was then that you felt Viktor cop a feel, in which case something in you turned. You whipped around, quick movements before your hands pinned Viktors against the bed, staring him down as you hovered over his body, straddling his waist as you kept him from moving or trying to make another move on you. Staring him down, you did your best to show some sort of intimidation, but the sudden actions seemed to spur the drunkard on, biting his bottom lip in amusement.

“Got no problem with you being on top either, I can play that game with you!”

You groaned out in annoyance, feeling the mans’ growing arousal as he tried to roll his hips up into yours. “Tired of your shit Viktor, get it together.” Pushing him back onto the bed with no sympathy for his drunken stupor you made your way out of the room, leaving the man to call your name as he sprawled upon the bed. You could hear him calling as you slipped into the kitchen and instead of fixing him anything to help him sober up, you splashed your own face. When did you get so strict, so antsy? You hadn’t had a night to yourself in some time. And for someone to be in your bed, to want to indulge in filthy pleasure, who were you to deny him? He was good looking, but drunk off his ass. And from the sounds of it, he wanted to be the one to lay you out for the night. You definitely weren’t interested.

Couldn’t seem to figure out if something was wrong with you at the time. Not to say you weren’t flattered by the other advances, before and after he was sloshed, but you felt nothing in retaliation. You simply had a good laugh, a few drinks, you hadn’t meant to charm him or give off that you wanted to sleep with him. Or did you? Lonely nights in an empty bed, an empty home no less. You weren’t the least bit interested in the whorehouse, not as if you didn’t care for the ladies themselves – calling you sweetheart and whatnot – but it wasn’t your current taste.

Splashing water onto your face, you calmed your racing thoughts down. Maybe one night wouldn’t hurt. Maybe something like this would help your mood from the normal drag. You were afraid you’d end up all mugfaced and mopey like Louis if you didn’t have time to truly enjoy yourself without it being a job or forcing yourself to do so. As water dripped down your face, your thoughts were split between “what would change in one night,” and “I don’t even like him like that! I’ll just sleep it off on the couch”.

Your mind seemed to go quiet just as Viktors calls for you went silent. Only then did you thank the higher powers that he finally passed out or gave up on his attempts to get you back there. Stripping off your own overcoat and walking back into the main room of your home, you dropped said cloth on the floor only to stand there frozen, stiff as a board once your head moved to look up rather than at your feet.

“Lestat?”

Your lungs seemed to lose air as you stared at him, confused as much as you were shocked. You questioned yourself, not knowing if you made him up in your fit of loneliness or if he was actually there, in the dim lighting of the room. He stood there, at the bottom of the steps that lead to your room but also against the wall that was directly across from the doorway of the kitchen.

That flawless face, chiseled jaw, god given face, wavy blonde hair you ran your fingers through more times than you could remember, his broad yet sculpturesque physic, those blue pools you’d get lost in no matter the time of day – it was him. In all his glory. It was only then that you finally came to your senses and realized that there was red dripping from his hands, not only coating his fingers, but it was dragged over his mouth – smeared – and slung across his shirt like a work of art. There was an almost unreadable look in his grey-blue hues, ones that could and did challenge the most beautiful of days, shaming the sky in comparison.

He didn’t move, almost like a statue, but with – what you could only assume was blood – slowly dripping down his fingers and onto the floor, it reminded you that you were not frozen in time. That he was there in all his glory, missing his normal presten overcoat that would go beautifully with whatever suit or undershirt he chose to wear, his blonde wavy hair let down, a bit unkempt compared to how neat and groomed he normally kept himself, but his body was still as water, as unmoving as a statue.

Almost.

You could barely tell if he was breathing, the stillness of his body startling you as you trekked carefully but moved in closer to him. It was only then when you inched towards the vampire did you notice the small trembles, the minute quivering of his hands that slowly clenched into bloody fist, nails digging into his palms. His chest rose and expanded as he took a breath in through his nose, jaw tightening as he stared you down. A sliver of fear seemed to jump up your spine at the subtle movement, but it didn’t stop you from slowly closing in. You were a mere stride away from standing directly in front of him, but before you could call out his name again, like a ticking time bomb – he exploded.

“You fool!” He roared out, causing you to nearly stumble back onto your ass. There was a look of anger written all over his face that was once completely unreadable. “You! You are pathetic! Ungrateful! Rien qu'une plaisanterie vivante, affamée d'amour et d'attention!” A loud crash could be heard as he used his strength to knock over a display, the power behind his hand flinging the rather sturdy and wooden case into the wall across the room as it caught air. Wood chips splintered every which way, glass shattering and sprinkling onto the floor. Your eyes flicked from the damage to the man who stood before you, chest now heaving as he started spewing curses in his french tongue and pointing at you.

You could barely understand him, though a few curses here and there from what he taught you, but you were more confused than scared at the moment. Fear was in the back of your mind, not as present as the sudden concern. “Les! What are you on about?”

“Espèce d'idiot! Espèce d'idiot de campagne, de petit ver de terre! Do not play dumb with me!” Lestat proceeded to call you out by your name as he spewed what you could only depict as insults.

Suddenly he started laughing.

His seemingly harmless chuckles escalated into full blood cackles, the man laughing harder and harder till it seemed almost hysterical. His pupils were dilated, fangs bared with blood dripping slowly down his chin, and his hand shaking as he continued to spew fire in your direction. “You think that you can replace me? De copier quelque chose qui ne peut pas être remplacé! Do you know who I am chéri?” Lestat questioned, almost softly before his tone roared out once again. “Do you know what I am!?”

“Lestat, what happened? You come in here all covered in blood after being away for this long, yelling at me?”

The vampire could not hear you, not over his constant ranting and yelling and french tongue that seemed to go on, venom seeming to be laced in every consonant and syllable. “After everything that I have given you! Comme mon cœur bat pour toi! Et pourtant tu essaies de faire en sorte qu'un salaud blond essaie d'être moi?! HA! Your funniest attempt at a joke yet! To stoop so low!”

“Les…” You were now more concerned than ever, watching as he stared pacing as if to restrain himself at the moment, his nails having swiped at the wall, ripping up the wallpaper and digging into the bricks that were settled underneath, carving into the harsh material while his hand remained unscathed.

“You are just like any other! Pitoyable! L'excuse la plus triste pour un homme! Rien qu'un chien qui a soif et aboie pour en savoir plus! Tellement impatient que vous ayez essayé de trouver quelque chose dont il n'y en a qu'un!” Lestat cackled as he seemed to move back and forth, looking towards you with a predatory gaze before looking at the floor, shaking his head and almost growling. Restraining himself.

“Les!” You tried again to call out for him, but he did not waver.

“Humans, you are all the same…! You are all ungrateful, insatiable pests! Meat for the slaughter and lambs for wolves! Je devrais vous vider et regarder la vie pitoyable que je vous ai fournie clignoter brièvement dans votre cerveau idiot..what was I thinking! You! You?!” He pointed at you once again, the manic grin never leaving his face. “J'ai eu pitié d'un chien qui n'a aucune loyauté!”

“Lestat! Calm–”

“Good for nothing! A dull piece of entertainment! A clown above all clowns! Une pitoyable excuse de fils! No wonder your kin left you high and dry!”

“Lestat!–”

“Une pitoyable excuse pour un humain! Who would ever want you anyways! Laper goulûment ce qui reste d'une bonne chose! An ungrateful mutt!” His voice came out raw, almost hurt as he overwhelmed your own voice, giving you no space to speak.

“Les–”

“N'étais-je pas assez bien pour toi?! Je ne te suffisais pas! Too boring for the great comedian you came to be?! Est-ce pour cela que vous avez choisi de vous coucher avec une excuse pathétique pour un remplacement!?”

“Le–”

“Je ne suis pas assez bien pour toi!? Assez bon pour garder seul votre amour seul?! Is that too much to ask for!?”

“LESTAT!”

Your voice seemed to boom with sudden authority, your hands finding his wrist before pushing his body back into the wall, practically sandwiching him between that and your own body. The room that was once filled with the rampant yelling and swears of French from Lestat and your desperate attempts to call out for him were now silenced. It was now only the pants between the both of you as his was from his outburst, you, from the sudden burst of adrenaline that seemed to flow through your veins. The two of you stared each other down, getting lost in one another's gaze.

Lestat had never heard you so demanding, never having raised your voice in such a way, not even in a playful manner towards him. You’d never been rough with him, and even in bed he would have to coax you to handle him with something other than tenderness in the mix. Your grip on his wrist was enough to bruise any other human, but the strength you’d projected was enough to stun the vampire out of pure shock.

The once tense and chaotic air calmed as the two of you stood in silence, you waiting for him to calm down and get he was waiting on you to yell at him, attempt to hit him, hurt him for the destruction and his outburst. His temper was unruly, unpredictable like the weather sometimes, but he'd never flared up in front of you in such a way.

But instead of harsh words or screams back in his face after all he said and done – most you could barely understand – you'd slowly shifted your hands. Moving from holding his wrist, up his arms and shoulders and to his face, cupping it gently, while the same concerned look lingered in your loving gaze. “Les…speak to me. Here I was, worried sick about you for weeks on end, and now you come here? Covered in blood and yellin who knows what?”

You did not scold him or respond with hatred. You spoke in a soft tone he almost didn’t recognize, as if trying to coax a scared and wounded animal.

He didn't respond, instead staring at you with mild confusion. Why were you treating him so kindly, even as he looked and acted as if he was two seconds away from ripping your throat out and tearing apart your innards.

Lestats' form looked disheveled, his blood coated dress shirt now somewhat torn, the collar ripped and stretched down, exposing the skin on his right shoulder and arm as the cloth dangled pitifully. A mess he was and yet you held him so gently, spoke to him so kindly, so sickeningly sweet in his eyes.

Your foreheads touched as you leaned in, noses brushing as you claimed his attention yet again, seeing the dazed expression, almost as if he couldn't believe what was happening. You knew the blood on him was from upstairs, that your guest was most likely dead from the bloody footsteps that lead down the main room.

Suddenly his lips lifted in a snarl. “You smell of him, that drunkard—”

“I helped him for the night. Was bein’ kind and all. We had a drink, but I didn't feel anything for him Les.” It was your turn to interrupt him, thumb brushing against his cheekbone as blood stuck to your own palms. You could tell that he was angry, possessive even, but you'd never seen it to this existent. Only then, after holding him for so long did you realize his face was ice cold, blood on his mouth but his body void of warmth.

“Did you not feed on him Les? You're colder than a bare ass in winter.”

Even that seemed to keep him shocked, how you noticed the little things, that the warmth of fresh blood did not flow through him. Only you would pick up such minute details at that moment, only you paid him that much attention. “I cared not for his putrid blood.” He muttered, your gaze holding his own as he wished to look away. He wasn't embarrassed, but it seemed as if he was almost flustered, confused even as his brows pinched.

“You haven't changed much. Still the magnificent…unpredictable Lestat.” You knew now why his anger flared up, the sudden appearance and unprecedented feelings. He didn't like the idea of someone else in your bed, someone who seemed to resemble him – even though you didn't see the two looking any more similar than a black and a white horse. “Lovely, I wasn't gonna lay with him if that's what ya’ think. He wasn't my type anyways,” you attempted to laugh, though it came out as more of a sad half winded chuckle.

“I apparently only have space in my heart for the man who always laughs at my jokes…no matter how bad they are.” Your own gaze lingered towards his stained lips before glancing back up. “For the French man who came to me at the bar, listening to me yap up a storm. Who lied with me in the field and gave me hope for a future…one I thought I would never be worthy of, just as I feel unworthy of the love that man gives me and shows…" As corny as you normally were, this was something you wanted the vampire to understand. That as a human, fragile being that could be killed by his hands, you still loved him. Even now. Even as you tried to forget about him, to think of him as nothing but a dream for as long as he was gone, your heart yearned for him dearly.

As those last words tumbled from your mouth, your lips crashed into each other. It would be humorous to say that sparks flew, but there was a sudden fire that seemed to flare inside of you. It was bound to the both of you, the further in you two got, the hotter and brighter that flame got until it was a raging inferno. The kiss went from being one of longing to a much sloppier, needy entanglement. The metallic taste didn’t bother you, barely phasing you. Your hands went from cradling his face to holding him, threading through his hair and one lowering to his waist to keep his body close. In retaliation, Lestat held your own face, the sticky blood smearing onto the side of his face. You didn’t dare pull away as you felt the nips at your bottom lip, his tongue wrestling with your as your lungs were slowly deprived of oxygen. You mumbled his name against his lips, subtly pulling away to find air, but Lestat refused to let you. He almost let out a possessive growl that rumbled in his chest, almost unnoticeably as he didn’t need air and wanted to soak you up in every way, shape, and form.

By the time you’d been let go, he barely let you move away, foreheads touching yet again as your lungs did their best to regain what was lost. You were panting and lightheaded, a thin string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his, swept away with his tongue. There were no words shared at that moment, lost in each other's loving gazes as your hearts were racing, thundering like wild horses and unruly storms. There was a twister of emotions swirling within the both of you, and yet you simply couldn’t put them into words.

Your lips pressed against his briefly, only to start peppering kisses onto his skin. Against the side of his lips and down his jaw, against his bloody throat, down to his collar and shoulder. You left a trail, admiring him, pampering him, spoiling him with your love and adoration like you normally did. Something you never strayed from. Your kisses kept, from his shoulder down his exposed arm, all the way down to his blooded knuckles in which you pressed your lips to as if he was royalty. “Les,” you muttered against his hand, watching as he seemed to shudder.

The look in your eyes had shifted to something more, a desire, a hunger. He could feel your sudden desire, blazing like the fire that roared within you.

You both wanted each other, needed each other.

Bad.

“Lestat–” The vampire in question hushed you with his finger, tilting you chin before pressing a kiss against your lips yet again. When he pulled away, he practically purred out.

“One moment mon chéri..” His voice was barely above a whisper as you chased after his lips, whining as he slipped away from your hold and moved up the stairs. When he was suddenly out of sight, you were left standing alone and wishing for him to come back in your arms, but you would be patient, just one last time. But now that you were here, you were like an excited puppy who’d just been told to sit.

“Course he done got me all riled up, then just…” You gestured towards the stairs as you spoke to yourself, sighing and wiping the blood away from your mouth with the back of your hand. You could only imagine the mess in the room if Lestat had dealt with Viktor. The amount of blood and the fact that he didn’t drink from him was rare, to say he had a distaste for someone's blood when you knew he fed upon others and sapped their life away as easy as a snap of your fingers. And yet he was careful every time he drank from you. Tender, making sure you didn’t pass out or lose consciousness, listening to your heart rate and showing much restraint to not be as greedy as he wanted with you.

Even he knew that if you egged him on, it would be that much harder to contain himself. Fortunately you didn’t have to wait long before your name was called, which caused you to scurry up the stairs so fast that you almost face planted by the time you got to the top, grabbing onto the railing before turning into your room.

It wasn’t as bad as you first thought, the bed looked perfectly fine beside the covers being pulled here and there, but you could see the blood seeping through the carpet on the opposite side of the bed. It was only then that you heard a small whistle, looking over towards the side where the bathroom was. Lestat stood in the doorway, shirtless, the blood on his face and down his neck having been rinsed and wiped off, beside the obvious smudges still left on his skin. Though there was one thing that stood out rather boldly against his skin.

Perfectly painted onto his lips was a rather glossy – oily even – rich scarlet color that popped in comparison to his pale skin.

Not blood.

No.

Lipstick.

He chuckled as he watched your head tilt to the side rather curiously, thankful that he couldn’t feel the heat that traveled to your face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you mon chéri,” Lestat started as he slowly made his way over to you, almost as if he was prowling. Before you knew it, he’d pushed you back onto the bed, straddling your lap with your face now in his hands. You melted at the feeling, almost as touch starved as he was for you. Your hands now placed on his own waist you pulled him closer, both of your bodies buzzing with a newfound arousal.

Lestat leaned closer to your face once more, head tilting as he captured your lips once more. A hum escaped you as you could taste him yet again, letting out an audible groan as your groins rolled into one another. You wanted him badly. You were smitten with the man, his voice, his touch, the need to have him in your arms and in your bed, it was a greed you wanted to give into.

Another whine left you as his lips left your own, moving to kiss the corner of your mouth and then your cheek. Your jaw was next, his lips pressing against every inch or your jawline and even underneath. He’d kissed down your throat as you tilted your head up, exposing more of yourself to him as he continued his path. Lestat had to stop himself from wanting to prick your throat. He could hear the blood just below your skin, feeling the heat it gave off as it ran, how good it would taste after straying away for so long.

You couldn’t control the moan that left your lips as he showered your throat in almost endless kisses, down your collar and against the crooks of your neck. By the time he’d finished and met with your dazed face again, he seemed very proud of his work.

As your half lidded eyes glanced down at Lestats face, you could see him practically glowing, as radiant as ever, even with the smudged lipstick on his lips.

Though it was your appearance that seemed to get him even more eager to take what was his.

In a flash, you two were on each other, magnetized as your hands groped and felt against one another. Clothes were ripped off, shredded, torn, thrown in this direction and another, but neither of you cared for the mess. You only cared for each other, like you were the only two left in the world. Rolling around on the bed, you ended up locking your arms under Lestat, keeping him in place as you leaned down and assaulted his throat, marking him up the best you could.

You knew he liked it rough, but it was hard to do so when you practically worshiped him. It wasn’t an act, did. But you missed him like the stars and the moon and you wanted him to know that deep down. That you loved him, whether he reciprocated or not. You wanted to be selfish, keep him in your arms forever. And as selfish as it was for you, you only hoped that he wanted the same, even as you were weaker than the vampire himself.

The guttural noises left Lestat as you bit down near the crook of his neck, hands slipping down to his bare thighs as it hooked onto your hips. His head was thrown back into the pillow that rested under his head, blonde hair sprawled out behind his head as he called your name once more, feeling as needy as ever. “Don’t tease me mon chéri, I’ve been too long without you…”

Grunting out, you felt his fingers against the back of your head as you proceeded to leave marks against his throat, hickies and dark bruises, but not deep enough to break or to draw blood like you wished. When you pulled away to look at your work, his hand caressed the side of your face and he watched as you leaned into the feeling pressing your lips against the side of his palm before looking down at him with a sense of yearning. A longing that’s been stirring inside you since the first week you missed him.

“Normally you are the chatterbox instead mon garçon de la campagne. Why the sudden silence?” Even after the intrusion, outburst and overall assault that happened not too long ago, he enjoyed your voice. How you praised him and cared for him so. It was unorthodox that you weren’t speaking, even now. Not to say that he didn’t like your brutish noises as you indulged yourself, but it was one of the qualities that made him attracted to you.

It wasn’t until that statement did you look Lestat dead in the eyes and spoke. “Doll face, I love you to the ends of the world and back, but right now I just want to hear you scream my name.” That seemed to stun the blonde once again. “And I got better uses for ma’ mouth right now. Not enough time to talk.” Your voice shifted towards a lower town as you dipped down to assault Lestat's chest, one of your favorite places to spoil.

As the vampire's voice rang within the room, his back arching off the bed as you did your best to mark up his chest in bite marks of all sorts. You found great joy in seeing his body react in such a way as your mouth enveloped one of his nipples, tracing your tongue around the sensitive nub before using the edge of your teeth to tug, his body pressing up against yours and nearly lifting off the bed itself.

But Lestat wanted more. He’d been away for too long and was tired of the foreplay. “I…I am not a virgin,” he panted out. “I can handle myself just fine.”

“Let me treat ya’ like it anyways baby doll…”

And as his eyes rolled to the back of head, your mouth loved on and against every part of his body, your fingers finding spots that made his body curl and mewl in weakness as he wanted more. The slow and tender you fed him lit his entire body up in the best way imaginable, his voice loud enough for anyone in the quarter to hear.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Your back ached as you sat up from the bed, the stinging sensation of Lestat’s nails running down skin lingered even hours after wearing him down the best you could. The beauty in question rested right beside you, curled up in the sheet and his head nuzzled up against your side.

You knew that he wasn’t asleep, but simply closed his eyes to briefly rest. He’d have to return home soon, to rest inside his coffin and to dispose of the body that was unfortunately still slumped against the side of the bed. In the heat of things, you barely cared that there was a dead person mere feet away from you as Lestat was the only thing in your mind through the night. As you made your way off the bed and into the bathroom, your lower waist was just as roughed up from the rather crushing gripped Lestat had with his legs clinging onto you with such force.

You could barely remember how many times you made him cum that night, but it was enough that your own hips were starting to bruise. His voice calling out your own was like a symphony of its own, causing a cheeky smile to appear on your lips. By the time you’d gotten into the bathroom and stepped in front of the mirror, you were shocked. On not only your lips but splayed all over your cheek, neck, and even covering the majority of your collarbone was lipstick stains from Lestat.

It hadn’t registered back then how much he’d done, but now it was clear as day, he marked you. You could remember him muttering how he would erase any trace of that drunk businessman, especially if there were any traces of him on you. Your neck itself was sensitive as all getup, especially after Lestat fed off you that night. No wonder you felt light headed and weak on your feet. “God, I hope this can wash off,” you muttered to yourself, though you weren’t opposed to the idea of Lestat doing this more often.

“I doubt it will…” Lestat stepped in behind you in all his nude glory before hugging against your waist and placing his chin against your shoulder. “And if it does…I’ll do much worse than this.” A grin appeared on his face as his looked at you through the mirror, watching as you replicated the same grin. For the moment, the two of you stayed there, swaying in one another arms before the vampire spoke up. “I..I am cursed with my maker's temper…I meant no harm. I saw that man in your bed when I came to surprise you and–”

“No need for an apology Les…I missed you too.” Turning your head, you kissed against his hair before sighing. “You were gone for so long..thought you’d up and left. Wasn’t gonna bother you no way if you didn’t wanna see me.”

Lestat stared at you in silence for the longest before shifting his gaze elsewhere. “I have a good reason for why I was gone. I did not merely abandon you…but there is someone I have to speak with you about.”

“Who?” There was only one other person that you could think of at the top of your head, especially with the series of events that had happened in the past.

“Louis…”

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

a/n : who let me cook?? Anyways, thank you for reading so far! Replies and repost are appreciated! Thank you for reading!

please do not repost my work on other sites! thank you! - @that-one-malereader-enthusiast

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dorabellingham · 2 days ago

Text

La Liga

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you're celebrating the la liga trophy, but he's really drunk and keeps asking you to marry him

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a party night at the stadium, and Real Madrid had just won the La Liga championship. The team, the fans, everyone was cheering, but no one seemed happier and more relaxed than Jude. He was completely overcome with euphoria, hugging everyone who passed by —players, journalists, staff, it didn't matter who it was, he just wanted to share his happiness.

With a bottle of whisky in one hand and the La Liga trophy in the other, Jude danced and sang as if the world was watching (and it was). His smile was so wide it seemed permanent, and his laugh was contagious. When the background music changed to a lively funk, he wasted no time in starting to dance, with exaggerated steps and movements with the clumsy and fun touch of someone who was clearly a few glasses too many. In the midst of all this joy, he suddenly spotted you, who were there backstage, waiting for the right moment to congratulate him. Jude's eyes shone even brighter when he saw you, and he practically dropped the trophy, walking towards you with a passionate smile.

—BABE!

He shouted from the other side of the field, running towards you and, in the middle of the path, almost tripping over his own legs.

Arriving at your side, he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong smell of whisky in the air. Without letting go of you, he began to speak, the words coming out in a slurred and exaggerated way.

—Y/n, you are... you are the most incredible woman in the world! —He declared, his hands cupping your face adoringly. —Marry me? Please! I love you, I'm crazy about you!

You laughed, trying to keep your composure in front of your clearly drunk husband and the cameras that recorded every second of that moment.

—Jude, we're already married!

You reminded him, trying unsuccessfully to hide your amused smile.

But that didn't seem to make a difference to him. Jude continued with the scene, his eyes shining and his tone of voice rising even higher.

—No, no, babe! I want to marry you again! I need to hear you say ‘yes’!

He pulled one of your hands and, on his knees, began to make a dramatic marriage proposal right there, in the middle of the field, while the reporters around filmed and laughed.

—Y/n, my love! Marry me again, will you? Please?

He begged, reaching out to you, as if it were the first time.

You tried to contain your laughter, shaking your head in denial.

—Honey, no. Come on, get up. We’re already married!

You looked around, noticing that the reporters were absolutely amused by the situation, and gently patted his hand, trying to get him to stand up.

It was then that, to everyone’s shock and surprise, Bellingham, with the expression of a devastated man, began to cry. Yes, cry! He put one hand to his face, covering his eyes, and grabbed the microphone from a reporter standing next to him, his voice cracking.

—I WAS REJECTED! —He announced dramatically, as if he were on stage. —She doesn’t want to marry me! Everyone saw it… she doesn’t love me anymore! —He looked at the microphone and repeated it, so there would be no doubt. —Are you seeing this? My wife doesn’t want to marry me again!

The reporters tried to hide their laughter, some barely able to keep the cameras focused. You, in turn, had your hands on your face, laughing and in disbelief at the show your drunk husband was putting on. You bent down to him, trying to whisper:

—Jude, honey, everyone’s watching! Get up, go…

He ignored you completely, turning to the camera with a martyr’s expression.

—She doesn’t love me, guys. Here I am, winning La Liga, and my wife… rejects me.

He sighed theatrically as the camera focused on his face.

The crowd in the stands, who were already laughing and applauding the scene, began to scream, encouraging Jude. And he, of course, loved the encouragement, raising his fist in the air, as if he were ready to fight for that love right there.

You, still laughing, pulled him by the arm, finally managing to lift him up.

—Come on, you dramatic! Let's go home.

But he seemed unable to let the moment pass. Hugging you tightly, he lifted you in the air, spinning you around as he continued to speak towards the microphone he was still holding.

—I love this woman! She is everything to me. My wife... and the most beautiful of all!

The crowd applauded, and Jude, finally satisfied with the show he had put on, gave you a loud kiss on the cheek and finally handed the microphone back to the reporter, laughing at his own situation.

As they left the field, with his arms around her and his eyes shining, Jude whispered:

—But you’ll marry me again one day, right?

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

—We’re already married, love. Come on, let’s go home before you even ask the trophy to marry you.

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bookuce · 1 day ago

Text

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 10K

PART TEN

PART ELEVEN

Meeting parents was never fun. It was nerve-wracking, stressful, anxiety-inducing––any word you can think of that falls under that category, really. The time was winding down quickly for Alina to meet Josh's family, and she was frantically moving around the bathroom. Her hair decided not to cooperate with her, forcing her to put it up in a tight ponytail. It wasn’t what she envisioned, but it will do.

Josh sat on the tub's edge, scrolling on his phone while he waited for his girlfriend to finish getting dressed. Just like Alina, he was full of anxiety about his family. Their reasons were different, though. While she was worried about his family's approval, he was concerned with how they would take the news of him relocating. It had been an active plan for several weeks, but he couldn't figure out how to bring it to their attention––until now. They'll take it fine, he thinks. He hopes.

When Jon told them he and Trinity were moving to Orlando, they didn't put up much of a fuss. Then again, the twins spent plenty of time around that area during their FCW days. There were plenty of family and friends around there that could help them in their times of need. Atlanta, on the other hand, not so much. That didn't matter, though. Josh is a grown-ass man. He can handle himself.

Alina leans over the sink, her face near the mirror. She's lining her lips with her favorite brown lip liner, making sure her lips look full and even. There was a slight tremble in her hand as she traced along the natural lining of her lips. Nerves. "Lina," Josh says, looking up from his phone. "we gotta go." He informs her. They were supposed to have left about thirty minutes ago, but she kept backpedaling on what she should wear.

"I know." She says, finishing her makeup. She glances around the mess of makeup on the counter, looking for her gloss. "I just want to make sure..."

"Lina." He calls again.

"I look good." she finishes, snatching up the lipgloss tube from the pile of lipsticks. She unscrews the cap and quickly slathers the product across her lips. Josh stands to his feet, slowly approaching the stress-filled woman before him. She stared at herself in the mirror, smoothing out her shirt and allowing her hands to travel over the front of her pants. He wraps his hands around her forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze. Her eyes would flicker to his dark ones, and they'd watch each other in the mirror.

"You look good," He assures her. "Perfect, to be real." He corrects himself. Josh steps back, allowing his hands to skim her arms to her shoulders. He gives them three gentle squeezes before turning towards the bathroom door. "Let's go before you get me in trouble with my Mama." He informs her, making her turn around to look at him.

"Josh," She groans, nerves setting in for her again.

"Come on, honey." He says louder, ignoring her pleas. "We ain't got all night." She quickly follows after him, soft huffs of frustration leaving her lips.

Was she ever this nervous about meeting Theo's parents? She tried to recall if she ever felt this amount of anxiety when she met them. Meeting them went relatively well. Then again, she knew enough information on them beforehand to prepare herself. Unfortunately, this was not the case with Josh. He didn't speak enough about them for her to learn who she was meeting, and because of that, she was terrified. Even when she would ask multiple times throughout the morning, he would answer shortly with little information. They're great people, he says. You have nothing to worry about, he tells her.

Perhaps they were just like Jon and Josh: loud, goofy, and loving. Trinity never had any complaints, either. If she did, she never brought them to her attention. Then again, why would she? Alina and Josh were not in a relationship––their family issues were none of her business until now.

The drive to his parents' home was roughly thirty minutes. They made it two minutes before six, cutting close to dinner time. Alina stares up at the large house from the passenger seat. Her legs now felt like jelly, and she knew they wouldn't hold her up if she got out of this car. Was she being dramatic? Possibly. Whatever happens, tonight would set the tone for her relationship with him and his family forever.

What if they don't like her? She's heard she can come off uppity at times, and she's been working on that. "Hey," Josh says, pulling her attention from the window. He searches her eyes for a moment before grabbing her hand. "They're going to love you; you know that, right?" He tells her. She watches him for a moment, a soft smile on her lips.

"Get out of my head." She whispers at him.

"You first." He replies. Josh presses a kiss to her hand before dropping it suddenly. "Now, come on, girl, I'm hungry. I ain’t had my Mama's cooking in months." He says, slapping the top of her left thigh. Alina would whine at the playful strike. He climbs out of the car, lightly jogging around to her side to open the door for her. She steps out of the vehicle, taking another deep breath as the realization of her meeting his parents settles in once more. She was now a couple of feet away from them, seconds away from saying, 'Hello, nice to meet you.'. There were multiple cars in the driveway, four Alina counted.

They're going to love you, she tells herself. Just be yourself, and they'll love you. The passenger door closed behind her, and a warm hand slid into her own. Together, they approach the front door. Josh's left hand grabs the doorknob, twisting and pushing the door open. Warm white light and the aroma of food poured out of the opening. With one last glance at his girlfriend, Josh steps into the house. "Yo, yo, yo," Josh calls.

"Oh, I think that's Josh." A female voice says. "Joshua!" She calls, getting closer.

"It's me," he replies. A small woman runs around the corner, her arms wide open for her son. Josh drops Alina's hand to fully embrace his mother, giving her the tightest hug possible. "Hey, Mama." He says against her shoulder. Alina takes a step back, clasping her hands tight in front of her while she waits for her turn to introduce herself.

"My baby is home!" She exclaims, patting his back as she pulls back. Talisua instantly spots the eye injury, her hand going up to examine it. She knew not to question it. She would assume that her son was recovering from someone hitting him too hard in a match or segment Friday night.

"Damn, she ain't say that to me," Jon says, walking by the hall. "She ain't even hug me."

"That's because I'm her favorite." Josh jokes, earning a lip smack from his brother and a swat to the chest from his mother. Talisua turns her attention to Alina, glancing over the gorgeous woman standing behind her son. Alina gives a faint smile, unsure whether or not she should say hi or quietly wave.

Josh notices that his mother has taken sight of Alina and looks over his right shoulder at her, a crooked smile on his lips. He reaches over to grab her hand, pulling her to his side. "Mama, this is my girlfriend, Alina," Josh says.

Talisua's hands go to her hips as she takes in the woman standing behind her son. There was a hint of a smile on her lips as she peered down at her shoes and back up to her face. "So you're why I haven't seen my son in months?" She asks. The question was a playful opening, not to be mistaken as an attack. Alina glances over at Josh briefly before returning her gaze to Talisua.

"If I knew he hadn't been home, I would have sent him on his way," Alina replies, returning the smile she received. Both women turn their attention towards Josh, whose brows furrowed at the interaction. "He's been acting like he doesn't have his own house," Alina adds.

"He's always been clingy." His mother says, earning a laugh out of Alina. Josh would smack his lips at the two of them, watching as they talked about him. "He used to throw a fit when he couldn't be in my face." She tells her.

"Glad to know some things never change," Alina replies. Talisua links her arm with Alina's, pulling her away from Josh and down the hall to the dining room.

"Bruh, what?" Josh watches after the pair in confusion as they leave him in the foyer alone. He was happy his mother and girl clicked almost instantly––but like this? Oh, the deception.

"Go help the boys in the kitchen," Talisua calls out behind her. "You too, Jon!" She shouts towards the living room. Jon, whose feet were on the coffee table, a remote in hand, turns his attention towards his mom, catching a glimpse of her passing by the room. He'd suck his teeth at her command, shaking his head slightly as he stood to his feet.

Josh steps into the living room's archway, his eyes finding those of his twin's. Jon rolls his shoulders back, tilting his head up at him. "Your drunk ass..." He says, laughing at his brother as he recalls last night's events. "Have I told you I loved you...!" He sings as he passes Josh, his cackles filling the house. "Boy, your freaky ass better not ever look at another tequila sunrise. You were trying to tear Lina up in the Uber home." He says, causing Josh to shove him forward into the dining room.

Trinity, Talisua, and Alina peer over their shoulders at the commotion from the twins as they walk through the living room to the kitchen. "Y'all, don't start," Trinity exclaims.

"If you didn't know already, it takes a village to keep these Fatu men in check," Talisua says. Trinity sighs softly at the statement, shaking her head as she does so. "God thought I was well-equipped to handle all boys and make them like their daddy." Talisua looks over at Alina. "Do you have kids?" She asks.

Alina is quick to shake her head at the question. "Two younger brothers, though, so I do understand." She explains. She is the eldest of her siblings. Dealing with the antics of her brothers well-prepared her for this. "I don't pay them no mind anymore." She says, referring to Jon and Josh.

In the kitchen, the Fatu men prepped dinner––er, somewhat. Sefa was seated at the kitchen island, quietly doom-scrolling on social media. Jeremiah was coming in from outside, a pan of meat in hand. Tonight's dinner was barbeque, something they tended to do often when their entire family was in the same house for once. It was a rare occurrence now that Sefa, Josh, and Jon were all on the road with the WWE.

At the stove stood their father, Rikishi. He was checking on the mac and cheese, stirring so it wouldn't burn to the bottom of the pot. "Hey, Pops," Josh says, moving past his dad. He pats his back in passing, prompting his dad to look over his shoulder only briefly.

"Hey, son." He replies. "How are you?"

"Never better," Josh replies, leaning up against the counter. "What do you want me to do?" He asks, waiting for orders.

"Get out nine plates, silverware, and cups. Go set the table." He answers. Josh walks around his dad to the cabinets near the sink. He opens them, grabbing out eight plates.

"Nine? Who else is coming?" Jon asks, prompting Josh to stop at the question. Who else was coming to dinner? Josh begins to count on his fingers everyone that is there right now. Yeah, he counted eight people. "Joe in town too and ain't tell no one?" Jon asks.

Rikishi is quiet for a little bit longer, turning off the stove. "I invited Málí." Josh slowly put his hands down, now watching the side of his father's head.

"Málí, who?" He asks.

"You know, Málí. Tagaloa, Lílí?"

"Lílí? She back in town?" Jon asks, glancing over at Josh.

Málí Tagaloa was a name Josh hadn't heard in years, seventeen years to be exact. Málí and the Tagaloas were old family friends of the Fatus, neighbors in the first neighborhood they grew up in when they first moved to Pensacola. Málí and Josh had instantly clicked when they met as kids, attached at the hip from first grade through high school. Wherever Josh was, Málí was not far behind, and vice versa. People around them were confident they would end up together after high school. They were too––but things happened. Málí received a full-ride scholarship to her dream college, and any chances of them exploring the what-ifs and maybes of their almost relationship went up in smoke.

They lost contact when she went to college. Everything after that was history. Hearing that name after so many years, knowing he would be seeing an old friend any minute now while his girlfriend was in the other room, had scared Josh silent.

"Yeah, she moved back home from Seattle last week. We ran into each other at the grocery store yesterday. I told her Josh was in town and asked if she wanted to come by for dinner tonight." Rikishi informs them. Josh turns to look at his twin brother. For once, Jon had nothing funny to say to his twin. They both had the same look of concern on their faces. "Perhaps the two of you can go out while you're here. You two always really liked each other––." Rikishi adds.

"That won't be happening," Josh says, shaking his head.

"Why not?" Rikishi asks, turning to his son. "Good Samoan woman like that––."

"My woman is in the other room," Josh explains. "You know that." Josh knew his mother updated his father about Alina yesterday. She was too excited about the potential of meeting someone Josh loved enough to bring home. Rikishi was doing what he knew best: how to insert himself in his sons' lives without their permission. Each time they caught on, he would pretend he had no clue what they were talking about––much like he is right now.

Rikishi furrows his brows at the assumption; the thick black frame of his glasses lifts on his nose with the scrunch of it. "When did you get a girlfriend?" He asks. A look of irritation would flash across Josh’s face as he glanced at Jon briefly.

"You so—." Josh stops himself from saying anything more, shaking his head. "Man, I can’t believe you’d try that with me." He lifts the plates he gathered from the counter. "You finna get me in trouble over some shit you said to this woman." He mutters angrily to himself as he exits the room. Rikishi turns to his other sons, his mouth agape in shock at Josh. Jon lifts his hands, shaking his head at the man.

"No comment, bruh." He says, turning to make his way out of the kitchen behind his twin. Jon knew how his father got about them dating women. He had done the same thing to him and Trinity when they first got together.

Josh's eyes focused on the dishware he held, not looking up once as he entered the dining room. "Josh, look who stopped by for dinner!" Oh, hell, he thought. He halts, his gaze lifting at the sight of the woman standing before him.

Málí turns at the sound of Josh’s name, her smile faltering slightly at the sight of her old friend. Time has done them both well, but for her, Josh aged handsomely. Though his face had changed, his eyes had not. They seemed to hold the same youthfulness and innocence they had when they were younger. The grey in his beard accented his appearance perfectly, much like a garnish on a dish. She wouldn’t get into the rest of him, though––she had focused on his face and that blank stare he was giving her. After all these years, was he not happy to see her?

Málí had not aged a bit to Josh. She was like a blast from the past, a ghost of his younger days. From what he could tell, all those years away from Pensacola did the woman well. She surprisingly looks the same as she did when she left this place––not a single gray or wrinkle in sight. On the other hand, Josh showed signs of aging well with gray hairs and soft wrinkles. She looked great. That was all he would say on the subject of her. He had to remind himself that she was not brought here as his friend––but as a potential prospect for marriage by his father.

Jon stops behind him, his eyes wide at the sight of Málí. "Shit." He mutters to himself. Alina glances between the pair before her. Strange. "Lílí, what's up, girl!" Jon exclaims, trying to break up the noticeable tension in the room now. He moves by Josh, wrapping the old friend in a tight embrace. Behind Málí, Jon looked at Trinity, who silently asked about the woman her husband was hugging. He widened his eyes at her in response, hoping she'd understand what that meant. They’ll gossip about it like two old church ladies later.

"Long time no see, Jon! How have you been?" Málí asks, pulling back to look up at the tall man. He smiles down at her, his arms still loosely wrapped around her.

"I'm blessed, Uce. I can never complain." He turns the woman to face the two women seated at the dining table. Only one of them was paying attention to Jon and the woman. The other watched her boyfriend, who was paling by the second at the sight of the woman he had yet to take his eyes off. "Lílí, this is my wife Trinity. Trin, this is Lílí, an old family friend of ours." Trinity stands up––her hand extended to shake Lílí's.

"Nice to meet you!" They exchange with each other with bright smiles.

Jon then turns to Alina, who is still watching Josh. "And this is Alina, Josh's girlfriend." Josh's gaze shifts from Málí's and to Alina at the introduction. They only watched each other briefly before Josh moved towards the table. He places the plates on the table, slowly putting them in their designated spots—Alina peers up at the woman, a forced smile on her lips.

"Pleasure," Alina says with a nod. She doesn't offer her hand to the woman or stand to introduce herself. She turns her attention back to Josh, who now has his back to everyone.

"Joshua," Talisua calls out. Josh releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding, his eyes shut as he does so. Lord, give me the strength to get through this dinner. Forty minutes in, he was already ready to grab Alina and leave. He should do that anyway. He owed no one any explanation as to why he would head out, but if Josh had to, he would point fingers at the man who was in the room over. But for his mother, he will stay––no one else. Talisua hadn't seen him in a while, and Josh had yet to tell everyone his plans to move to Georgia.

"Yes, ma'am?" Josh answers lowly.

"Are you not going to say hey to Málí?" She asks. He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. He could feel Alina staring at the back of his head, waiting for him to make the wrong move. She is still trying to figure out who this woman is to him. Jon mentioned that she was an old family friend, but what was with the stares? Josh looked like he had seen a ghost, and Jon also was behaving strangely.

He wasn't trying to be rude––he didn't want to do this. His eyes pan to the wall as he slowly pivots to face Málí. He avoids Alina's intense gaze, his eyes locking with Jon's before the woman standing by him. A lump began to form in his throat, and no matter how hard he swallowed, it wouldn't go away. "What's up, Málí?" He croaks, tilting his head up slightly. Josh would sway from left to right, his hands slowly rubbing at his hips.

The two old friends stare at each other for several moments before Lílí finally speaks up. "Hey, Josh." She says softly. "It's been a while." She adds with a slight smile.

“Yeah,” He says, lowering his head slightly. “How have you been?” He asks, clasping his hands together in front of him. Málí takes a breath, nodding her head at the question.

“I’ve been better.” She chuckles. “What about you? You look good––healthy. You look healthy.” She corrects herself. Alina turns her attention to Jon, her brows gradually furrowing as she does so. He’d catch her gaze before dropping his head in embarrassment. He lifts his right hand to rub at the back of his neck. This dinner was already gearing up to be a mess of a situation, and they had no one but Rikishi to blame.

"Food's ready!" Rikishi exclaims, walking in with a bowl of mac and cheese. Behind him are Sefa and Jeremiah, both carrying food. One by one, they line the center of the table with dishes.

Thank God, Josh thought, thankful for the interruption. Any much longer of that conversation, and he would have dug himself a hole with Alina.

Little does he know.

He looks off towards the table before grabbing his seat next to Alina. He pulls it out, dropping into the chair. Alina turns in her chair to face forward, her hands clasped tight in her lap. "Lílí, I hope you brought your appetite." He says gleefully. "Take that seat next to Joshua."

Rikishi doesn't acknowledge the woman sitting to Josh's left as he takes his seat at the head of the table. "Trin," Jon says, still standing behind Josh. He points at the chair near his brother for his wife to sit in. Rikishi looks to Jon, catching a glare from the eldest twin. Jon doesn't say anything to cause a disturbance but shakes his head in disappointment. Whatever his father had going on was not about to disrupt this dinner. With no questions asked, Trinity stands to her feet, moving to sit in the empty chair next to Josh. Jon takes his seat by Alina, separating Málí, Josh, and her.

Josh turns to his girlfriend, who is intently staring at the table. Alina was never good at hiding her emotions––giving herself away with facial expressions or tones of voice. At that moment, Alina felt conflicted. Was she angry or sad? She wasn’t sure, but she was holding in tears.

Alina wasn't trying to read into what was happening here, but with how everyone was acting suddenly and how Josh was staring at this Málí person, Alina could only assume this woman was an ex. The seating arrangement, her boyfriend avoiding eye contact with her––context clues. It is only a matter of time before she's searching for an exit from this dinner.

"Lina, can you pass me the salt?" Sefa asks, forcing Alina to look up from the table. She would give him a tight grin and nod, reaching in front of her for the salt. She lifts it into the air, allowing Sefa to take it from her. "Thanks."

"Welcome," She says quietly, her eyes scanning the table. She could feel Josh's large brown eyes on her, pleading with her to look at him, but she couldn't. The interaction between Sefa and Alina would prompt Rikishi to finally acknowledge someone other than their other guest for the evening. He looks at the woman seated near his son––his lips slightly parted as he thinks of something to say.

"So, you're Joshua's girlfriend," Rikishi says, earning the couple's attention. "What is your name, sweetheart?" He asks. Josh leans forward slightly, his head tilted down at his father. He has one time to disrespect her, he thought. One snide remark and this dinner was over.

"Alina." She answers with a grin. "It's nice to meet you, Rikishi." The slump of her shoulders would vanish as she sat up straight for the conversation.

A grin matching Alina's would curl onto his lips at her. "Likewise." He answers with a single nod. "Alright, everyone, dig in." He says, looking around the table. Alina would relax into her seat again, the light in her eyes dimming once more now that she was not being spoken to again. He had moved on from talking to her and was now conducting the food traffic. "Pass me the chicken, please." He says to Jeremiah.

"So, Alina, you work with the boys and Trin?" Talisua asks from the opposite end of the table than Rikishi. Alina looks at her with a smile, nodding her head.

"I do! Coming up on three years here soon." She informs her.

"We celebrating?" Jon asks, nudging Alina in her side. She looks back at Jon, shaking her head. He smacks his lips at her answer, muttering words of persuasion to her, hoping Alina would change her mind. She knew he didn't want to celebrate the milestone––He just wanted a reason to party.

"Do you wrestle?" Rikishi asks.

"No, sir, I'm on the broadcast team." She answers, getting only a singular hum from the man. He says nothing else, returning to the meal in front of him. Slowly, Alina's eyes began to shift back to her plate. Was she reading into this too much, or did it seem like Rikishi didn't like her? Perhaps she was reading into it too much and still reeling from the nerves of meeting Josh's family, but then again, she was always good at reading people. He was coming off cold and disinterested in her, the opposite of how you should be with your son’s new girlfriend.

Alina wasn’t the only one who noticed his behavior. Silence fell upon the dining room––glances exchanged between siblings. "So, Lílí, how's your parents?" He asks, seguing back into Málí. He seemed more interested in what Málí had going on rather than the fact his son finally brought home a woman––and Josh didn’t like that.

"Yo, are you good?" Josh asks suddenly.

"Josh," Alina says, shaking her head.

"Nah." He dismisses her. "You've said no more than ten words to her all night. You've known she was coming since yesterday." He says. Rikishi looks up at his son, his brows furrowed in faux confusion.

"Josh," Jon says now.

"You know what you're doing, bruh––." He says, ignoring his brother. He points his finger at his father.

"Joshua," Talisua calls out now. His mother's stern tone was enough to silence the angry twin. "It's enough." The room became silent again, but no one resumed eating. The tension in the room was enough to steal the appetites of everyone present. Alina clasps her hands in her lap, her eyes falling to her plate again.

What a weekend, she thought. Was there a full moon, mercury in retrograde, or something? Was she cursed? Is that what this was? A curse? She attempts to think of who she could have wronged in the past, but no one comes to mind. Well, unless karma works quickly in Tasha's favor for her,––wait, that could be it. "I apologize, son," Rikishi says, throwing his hands up.

"You apologizing to the wrong person." He says. "We can try this,” He motions a circle with his index finger. “again in a minute." He informs him, cueing his apology.

"That's not necessary––," Alina says, shaking her head.

"Like hell, it ain't," Josh almost shouts.

Alina twists her mouth to the side, becoming quiet again. For the second time in a span of three days, she was at the center of a fight. “I said it’s enough, Joshua.” His Mother says. She looks between her husband and son. “Both of you.” She points her index finger between the two men. Josh turns his glare towards the table.

“So what’s new?” Jon says, trying to break up the tension in the room. “Anyone got anything they want to share with the class?” He asks, glancing around the table with a big smile. “Sefa?” He asks. Sefa stifles a laugh at Jon, pushing his food around his plate. What was happening wasn’t funny, but it was.

Trinity reaches around Alina and Josh and strikes Jon’s shoulder, startling the twin. He leans back, making eye contact with his wife. “Not the time.” She whispers at him.

Under these circumstances, in this mood that he was in, Josh did not want to announce his departure from the state of Florida, but because Rikishi was with the shit, right now was the perfect time to do so. Josh peers up from the table, taking in the faces surrounding him. Beneath the table, Josh’s hands rubbed against each other slowly, a self-soothing mechanism of his. “I’m selling my house.” He announces, gaining everyone’s attention at the table.

“You’re moving?” Talisua asks. Josh nods slightly, licking his lips. “Where?” Alina gazed at the side of Josh’s head, waiting for his words. She wasn’t aware that his family didn’t know about the move. This conversation should’ve been a private family matter that didn’t involve her.

“Atlanta.” He answers.

“Atlanta? What’s in Atlanta?” Rikishi asks. Josh hangs his head at the question, pressing his lips together in a thin line. Here he goes, he thought. Rikishi points his hand at Alina. “Her?” He adds. A chill would rush Alina’s body at his tone. Oh, she never stood a chance with this man.

“Me for the last year,” Josh answers, looking up at his father. Rikishi wanted to hear Josh say Alina was the reason for his relocation, which she was, but Josh was not going to give him that. “I’ve been in Atlanta more than I have been here. That’s home now. All the back and forth adds up––.”

“Let me get this straight. The two of you have lived together for a year, but this is the first time we’ve heard of this girl?” Rikishi questions. “Does anyone not find that a bit strange?” He continued, lifting his hands as he spoke. Rikishi looked around the table at everyone, not receiving a response or reaction from a soul. Alina didn’t expect Josh to talk about her to anyone while they were still friends.

“Look at how you’re acting, bruh. You’re doing my girl like you did Trin when she first came around. You did this up until they got married.” He points out. Trin and Jon would smack their lips simultaneously at being brought up in the argument. “You ought to be lucky they even let bygones be bygones with your––.”

“Enough!” Talisua shouts the moment Josh starts to raise his voice again. “Solofa, I don’t know what has gotten into you, but it stops now. It’s the first time we see our son in months, and he is happy. Why are you trying to take that joy from him?” She asks. It was a question that Rikishi knew not to answer unless he wanted to sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight. “And Joshua,” She calls, requesting his attention. Slowly, he looks up at her. “I’m disappointed in you.”

Josh knew he shouldn’t have said most of what he did or behaved how he did, but Rikishi crossed boundaries. The things he said were consequences of his father’s actions, and he could not bother to be sorry about it—at least to him, he couldn’t be. Only for Talisua, Josh was apologetic. She did not deserve to see them act like this, and how he acted was not how she raised him. “Sorry, mama.” He says quietly. She doesn’t answer him, her glare shifting from her son to her food. Josh looks away from her, his eyes finding his plate as well.

The room was quiet for the third time tonight, thanks to Rikishi and Josh. This dinner wasn’t supposed to go this way, but it did because Josh came strolling in with Alina. Rikishi would have been happy if Josh wouldn’t have brought her home. His plans of having his son’s long-lost best friend and almost lover come back into the fray instantly diminished because of this random girl his son brought home, whom he had no idea existed until yesterday. If Rikishi were happy, Josh would have been happy. If the two of them had been happy, Talisua would have been happy. All of this is because he brought Alina McLemore home.

It was all her fault.

Alina was at the root of each issue, from Tasha and the wedding to this dinner. She spent the last twenty-four hours panicking about her boyfriend’s family’s approval and the prior twelve panicking about her appearance. All this meant so much to her, these last few days being the most important, only for her to be disliked and disregarded.

Slowly, Alina stands to her feet, drawing attention to herself. “I’m sorry, excuse me.” She apologizes, stepping away from the table.

“Alina,” Josh calls, turning in his seat as she moves towards the dining room entryway. He turns in his seat to watch her walk, his eyes full of silent pleas for her not to be upset. It was only a matter of time before she went running, and Josh knew it was coming. The last few days hadn’t been kind to her, and just when she thought she was escaping it in Atlanta, issues seemed to have followed them here into his parents’ home in Pensacola. His plan had failed to take her mind off what happened this past weekend.

“I’m just going to the bathroom. It’s fine.” She promises, vanishing down the hall before he can say anything else. Josh stares after her for a moment longer before turning his attention towards Jon. Their eyes locked with each other before the eldest twin started shaking his head at him.

“Just give her some space, Uce.” He tells Josh. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew Jon was right; Alina needed some space. He turns to face forward in his seat, a huff leaving his lips. This is some bullshit, he thought.

Alina enters the guest bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. She moves over to the sink, placing her hands on the marble countertop. She leans her weight onto her arms, her eyes closing as she does so. “You’re not going to cry. You’re not going to cry.” She whispers, shaking her head at the sting that fills her eyes. “Think about your makeup.” She reminds herself, opening her eyes to look at herself in the mirror. “See, you look so pretty. You’re going to ruin that if you cry.” She says, encouraging herself with tears forming in her eyes. If only those words were helping.

A knock at the door disrupts her emotional mini-pep rally, causing her to go still at the sound. “Lina, you good, girl?” Trin says from the other side. “Josh sent me to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” She croaks, fighting against the lump forming in her throat. On the other side of the door, Trinity furrows her brows at the sound of her voice. Was she crying? It sounded like it. Trinity grabs the doorknob, attempting to twist it.

“Can I come in?” She asks.

“No,” She sniffs. “I’ll be out in a minute, I promise.” She tells her. “You can go back to dinner. Tell Josh I’m fine.” No sound would come from the other side of the door, but Alina knew Trinity was still there. “Please?” She pleads.

“Okay.” She replies after several moments of silence. “Love you, girl.” She adds.

Alina smiles at her words, a few tears escaping her eyes. “Love you too.” She replies. Yeah, she wasn’t going back out there––not like this.

Trinity stepped away from the bathroom door, a sigh coming from her lips as she did so. She’d shake her head, bringing her index finger to her left temple. “Child…” She says to herself. Tonight was enough drama for the week for her––hell, maybe even for the month. Jon comes dashing around the corner, colliding with his wife. He was on his way to check on Alina because his brother was starting to get antsy. “Hey,” she breathes.

Jon looks past her and down the hall towards the bathroom. “Y’all good?” He asks with a lifted eyebrow. “Where’s Lina?” He asks.

“She’s finishing up in the bathroom. She’s fine.” She says loud enough for Josh to hear in the other room. “Come here, though,” Trinity says, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the living room. Once in the room, she releases his arm, looking back to ensure no one is coming. “Who the fuck is that lady, and don’t lie to me.”

In all the years that she and Jon had been together, this Málí character has never been mentioned. “We grew up together,” Jon explains. “We lived next door to her family when we first moved here.”

Jon planned to leave it at that, not wanting to explain the rest of the story. He pushes his hands into his pockets, looking beyond his short wife towards the hall. “And what else?” She asks, lowering her eyes at him. Her husband had a bad habit of avoiding eye contact when he was lying about something, a reason why he just chose not to lie, but this was his brother. Jon would remain silent for a few seconds longer, hoping she would just let it go. He knew she would not. “Babe.” She says sternly.

He would sigh softly, his shoulder slumping in defeat as he met his wife’s demanding gaze. “Her and Josh liked each other back in the day.” He confesses. “It didn’t go anywhere because Málí moved off for college, but everyone knew.” He finishes. In the same fashion that Jon’s shoulders dropped, Trinity’s would too. She lifts her hand to her nose, pinching the bridge of it. Málí was the original Alina.

“Are you serious?” She asks, looking up at him. Jon confirms with a nod. “This is a hot ass mess.” She says.

Jon scoffs at her words. “Shit, you can say that again.”

In the dining room, Josh and Málí were alone. Jeremiah and Sefa clear the table of all the food while Talisua and Rikishi are outdoors, squabbling about what had transpired tonight. The family dinner was over now, thanks to their father and him. Josh’s leg bounced anxiously beneath the table as he impatiently waited for Alina to return. She had been gone for five minutes, and his brother and sister hadn’t returned yet. “She’s pretty,” Málí speaks, initiating the conversation between the two friends. Josh’s leg would stop bouncing at the sound of Màlí’s voice. He briefly glances at her from the corner of his eyes before returning his focus to the wall.

“Thank you.” He says.

“You’re welcome.” She says, turning to look at him. Lílí’s tongue danced behind her lips as she contemplated her following words. “You think she’s the one?” She asks, prompting Josh to look at her now.

“I know it.” He replies.

“Good. A big-hearted man like you deserves only the best kind of love.” She says. Josh would scoff softly at her words, shaking his head. Málí smiles softly. “What?” She asks.

“You know why you were brought here, right? Man, that man was trying to set you up with me.” He says, pointing to the outdoors with a grin. It was now Málí’s turn to laugh, her eyes following his point out the window.

“I know.” She admits, wiping the little grin off his face. Josh would turn his attention to his old friend again, now watching her with the same blank face as earlier. She would watch him back, her smile shrinking in size. “Honestly, part of me really thought that when your dad said you were coming to town and that you weren’t seeing someone, this was the Universe giving us a second chance.” She confesses. “But now that I’m here and see Joshua Fatu all grown-up and in love, I know that that is not true, and this was much-needed closure.” The more Málí spoke, the quieter Josh got. It wasn’t that he had nothing to say to her, but because he didn’t know what to say. Knowing her love for him never faltered despite spending several years apart with no contact racked his brain in a way Josh hadn’t felt in years. Suddenly, he was an eighteen-year-old boy looking at an eighteen-year-old woman again. First loves, first everything. But none of that mattered. Who he was then is not who he is now.

“I probably could’ve reached out years ago.” She says.

“I could’ve too,” He says, not allowing her to take the blame for their time apart. “I’ve been in Seattle plenty of times throughout the years, and not once did I think to look you up.” He confesses. “My bad, Uce.”

Málí giggles at his apology. “It’s all good.” She assures him. “We cool now, though, right?” She asks. With a grin, Josh leans across the chair between them, his hand extended for their old handshake. With a grin just as big as his, Málí would effortlessly perform the handshake. To know neither of them forgot the greeting made them laugh.

“Yeah, we’re cool.”

“Damn, Alina still ain’t back?” Jon says, looking around the room. The pair, still united at the hand, would look up the couple that had entered the room. Trinity’s eyes would focus on joined hands before looking between the pair they belonged to. Josh’s smile would diminish at the mention of his girlfriend. For fifteen minutes, he’s forgotten all about her. Josh’s gaze shifted from his brother to his sister, who glared at him with crossed arms.

“I thought you said she was good.” He says, dropping Málí’s hand finally.

“Boy, that didn’t mean you can carry on!” Trinity shouts at him. Josh stands to his feet, moving past the couple. Trinity turns to her man, flexing her hands at him. “Ooh, I want to ring his neck.” She says to Jon.

Josh makes his way down the hall towards the guest bathroom. “Lina.” He calls out, hoping she’ll answer him before he gets to it. No response would come from the other side of the door, but he could tell the light was on beneath it. “Baby.” He knocks at the door, his ear now pressed to it. When he hears nothing on the other side, he moves his hand down to the doorknob. He twists the handle, cracking the door just a little. “Alina, you good?” He asks. No response prompts him to open the door further, revealing an empty bathroom. He steps in, looking around the bathroom for her. “The fuck…” He whispers to himself.

Josh comes out of the bathroom, looking up and down the hall. “Ay!” He calls out to his brother and sister. He would see their shadows before they came around the corners. “I thought y’all said she was in the bathroom.” He says, pointing down the hall.

“She was,” Trinity answers.

“She ain’t in there now,” Josh says, opening the door on the wall across from him. His hand skims the wall, hitting the light switch to see if she is inside. “Help me find her.” He tells them, fishing his phone from his back pocket. In three swipes, his thumb unlocks the phone, opens his contacts, and calls Alina’s phone. His phone would hover near his ear as he exited the room and marched down the hall to the next closed door. He was listening for the ring of her phone but heard nothing.

“I’m sorry, but the person you called––.” He ends the call and redials.

“Lina.” He calls out once more. Still no answer.

“I’m sorry, but the person you––.” Josh ends the call abruptly, slipping his phone back into his pants pocket. He swears under his breath, pivoting in the room he stood in.

“Uce, she’s not outside,” Jon says, stopping at the door. Josh furrows his brows, his face contorting in anger. He’d suck his teeth in response to him.

“Man––.” Josh starts, charging forward out of the room. He was about to give his old man a piece of his mind. Jon had other plans, though. He pushes his hand into his twin’s chest, slightly shoving him back. “Bruh, watch out.” He says, pushing his brother’s hand away.

“Hollering at that man ain’t going to do shit but make Mama mad. Just go and find Lina. I’ll tell Mama you got an emergency.” He tells him. Josh stands there for a moment, grimace still prominent on his features. “Go!” He exclaims at him, stepping to the side to let him exit. Josh would squeeze past his brother in the door frame, marching angrily towards the front of the house.

—––––––––––––

Alina was curled into a ball on the couch, her arms wound tight around her frame. The light from the television bounced off the walls and danced along her face, her eyes catching the light stunningly. She returned to Josh’s house about fifteen minutes ago via an Uber she ordered and has since turned her phone off. It didn’t take long for Josh to notice her absence, maybe about fifteen minutes down the road if she had to estimate––at least that’s when his calls started coming in.

Between his father and this Málí woman, tonight was a lot. It was more than what she could handle at this time. She had spent the earlier hours of the day panicking about his family’s approval, trying to make sure she looked presentable, only for his father not to give her the time of day. At least his mother liked her, or it seemed like she did. Talisua probably thinks the poor girl is a drama queen because of the way she left the dinner.

The front door opens and closes, followed by heavy footsteps, drawing Alina’s eyes towards the living room entryway. Josh was home. He comes around the corner, stopping in the archway at the sight of her. Josh spent twenty minutes driving around his parent’s neighborhood looking for her before eventually checking her location. When he discovered she was home, he raced all the way here. The couple exchanged brief stares at each other before Alina looked away, turning her attention back to the TV. Josh walks into the room, approaching the couch she is lying on. He leans down, snatching the remote off the table and turning off the TV.

Silence replaces the ambient sounds of the television, prompting Alina to rise on the couch. Josh sits down next to her, laying his elbows against his knees. His head was low. His shoulders rise and fall with the heavy sigh he releases. “Why’d you leave?” He asks, his voice husky.

Alina watches him for a moment, pondering over her response to him. “I wasn’t wanted––.”

“I wanted you there.” He cuts her off. “I wanted you there.” Alina becomes quiet again, her eyes unblinking as she watches Josh’s back. “You’re always thinking about yourself, putting yourself first, and shit.” He says after several seconds of quietness. Alina’s eyes would venture off to the left while her brows furrowed in confusion at his words. Was he calling her selfish?

“Is that not what I’m supposed to do?” She asks, fixing her gaze on him again. He scoffs at her question, lifting his hands to push his fingers through dark coils upon his head.

“Are we not a team?” He asks, turning to look at her. “Teams communicate, right? So, if something is bothering you, we talk about it, right?” His leg angrily bounced while he watched her. “You abandon the team, and the team falls apart, right?” He says, his tone gradually growing. He was angry with her––rightfully so. She knew he would be when he found her and mentally prepared herself for all the shouting he’d do.

“Josh, I wasn’t going to stay where I wasn’t wanted––.”

“I did for you!” He exclaims, turning to look at her. “You had me off in that damn room with an ex I knew nothing about. He’s sitting here pressing me day into the night, and you couldn’t sit through a family dinner? You had me out there fighting over you, but my pops being an asshole was the line?”

Slowly, Alina began to shake her head, lifting her left hand as she did so. “I didn’t ask you to do that.” She says, earning a laugh out of him. “I told you to leave.” He shakes his head, shifting to turn his whole body towards her.

“Man, you don’t get it, do you?” He asks her. “I stayed because I love you. Despite what you wanted, I stayed for you.” He points. “That is what you do for those you love, right? That was a sacrifice I was willing to make for the sake of our relationship because I want this,” He motions between the two of them. “to work. Love requires sacrifice, Lina. It requires effort.” He explains.

“I understand that––.” She begins.

“Shit, do you? Cause it doesn’t feel like it.” He admits, cutting her off for the third time tonight. Alina would furrow her brows at his question, his doubt baffling her.

“Are you serious right now?” She asks. “Your father made it extremely clear where I stood with him!”

“Don’t nobody give a damn what he is talking about!” He says, raising his voice. Rikishi is known to be a bit controversial in his interactions with people. Josh was foolish to think he wouldn’t do that with him over Alina. He had hoped that his father would learn from his mistakes with Trinity and Jon, but that was not the case tonight. Same person, same old mistakes.

“I do!” She says back in the same loud tone. “I care about your family’s approval! If they have to see me for holidays and birthdays, I don’t want to feel like I’m not supposed to be there!” Alina elaborates. It might’ve not meant anything to Josh, but it meant everything to her to have his family’s approval. Josh had already met her family; there was no avoiding it with how often he lingered around her home. The McLemores welcomed him into their family without any issues, objections, or shade. She was not expecting what she got today.

“Then why did you leave? That only made things worse!”

“I’m not staying where I’m not wanted!” She shouts back. “What’s not fucking clicking, Joshua?” Alina snaps her fingers in his face, making him lean back slightly. “You wanted me to sit there and watch him brush me off all night? Make me feel insecure?” She asks. “You wanted me to hear you shouting at him and upsetting your mother? Give them more reason to dislike me? They haven’t seen their son in months because he’s playing house with someone he wasn’t dating six months ago! ” Josh becomes silent, turning away from the woman next to him. He lifts his left hand to the bridge of his nose, gently pinching it.

Alina would watch him for a moment longer, her eyes unblinking. “You wanted me to watch you stare at your ex the entire night?” Josh’s head snaps at that question, his brows furrowed in confusion. He sucks his teeth at the woman.

“Bruh, what?”

“The girl at dinner. She’s your ex, right? That’s why Trin and Jon had to switch up their seating arrangement. No one would say what was going on, but I was able to catch on.” Between how Josh and Jon were acting and the speed round questions Rikishi was asking her, it only made sense to Alina to assume she was an ex. You don’t move around people like that if they weren’t their ex. Alina gave Theo not even a second at the wedding despite his multiple attempts to talk to her. For the majority of the day, they were apart. The exes were two ships passing at night until he started floating too close to her.

“She ain’t nothing to me.” He dismisses the assumption after several seconds of quiet.

“I’ve heard that before––,” Alina shrugs.

Oh, how the tables have turned in two days. What Josh was saying to her about Theo, she was now saying about him. Both accusations were untrue, but only one had a higher chance of being true. Where Alina had no contact with Theo, Josh did with Lílí––but he knew who he wanted, and the fact that she said those words infuriated him. He was not him. “Ay, ay, Lina? Don’t fucking compare me to that man. I mean that shit.” He says. “I ain’t nothing like him.” His name and Theo’s should never be in the same sentence, but it was thrown in there, all because of something out of his control. He wasn’t about to plead his case with her over Málí either. He has never given Alina a reason not to trust him––why would he now?

“You know what,” She breathes, “I don’t want to argue anymore, Josh,” She states, standing to her feet. “I’m going to bed.” She wasn’t about to listen to this.

And there she goes, running away from her issues instead of facing them head-on. It was one of her greatest flaws and the thing about Alina that pissed Josh off the most. “Who said we’re done talking?” Josh asks, standing up to block her path.

“You don’t have to be done with shit, Josh, but I am.” She says, moving to the side. He would take another step to block her. Her eyes would find his chest––her lips twisted as she bit back acidic words. “Can you move?” She requests.

“Nope, we’re talking.” He says. No, you’re yelling, she thought. “I’ve spent two years chasing your selfish ass––.” Now, it was her turn to cut him off. Her hands go up in disbelief.

“Selfish!? Really? Really?” She shouts.

“Yeah, really!” He nods. “You got me embarrassing myself for you, trying to prove to you that I am worthy of your time––and you’re going to sit up here and compare me to a bitch that didn’t have the balls to tell you he wasn’t feeling you anymore? Huh?” She sidesteps him, only for him to block her way again. “All because your stupid ass Ex fucked around on your ass don’t mean I will.”

Alina takes a step back at his words, slightly tilting her head at him. “Mm,” She hums, taking a few more steps back. His last words cut through her like a blade. She didn’t like that. Well, damn. Tell me how you really feel, she thought. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.” She voices. She averts her eyes from the man, looking from left to right. “Things were a helluva lot peaceful when we were just friends.” She confesses.

Those words felt weird coming from her mouth, probably because she did not believe a single word she was saying. She loves this man who stands in front of her, loves him with every fiber of her being, but these last few days were too much for her to handle. They’d only had one day of peace in the three days they’d been home together, and she was exhausted. She was tired of crying. She was tired of feeling like she did something to deserve any energy she got from people. She’s done nothing.

Josh’s shoulders would slump at her words––any anger that he had previously was now gone. He smacks his lips at her words, shaking his head. “Lina––.” He says, reaching to grab her hand. Alina slips out of his grasp, pulling her hand from his. She didn’t want him touching her.

“No,” She says, shaking her head. “I’m cool. We’re cool.” She assures him, stepping around him. He allowed her by this time. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight, get my stuff from your room in the morning, and I’m going to head out after. Save you from embarrassing yourself anymore.”

Before Josh could say anything else, Alina had rushed from the living room, leaving the regret-filled man standing in the center of the room. Josh brings his hand to his mouth, clasping it tight over his mouth.

He needed to sit down.

–––––––––––––––––––

A/N: Yay, new chapter! Who cheered! 🤭

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @fandomphasess @evilli0s @xoxoneah

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x oc #jey uso fanfic #Spotify

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velnna · 1 day ago

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hi, alex! I admire your work very much, your artistic passion inspires me deeply, and so I wanted to ask you if there was ever a time in your life when you constantly compared yourself to other artists? or maybe a period when you couldn't force yourself to draw? and if that did happen before, what helped you overcome it? how did you manage to keep this passion for drawing?

Heya! First of all, thank you so much <3

As for your question, I've been drawing my entire life so yeah there have been different degrees of comparing myself to others, more or less inspiration, etc. My background isn't in art and I spent years barely picking up a pencil just because life had me focus on other things - and that was perfectly okay with me as well!

Ultimately, I stay passionate about it because I'm kind of my biggest fan in a way? I mostly create art as a form of "fanart" for my own characters and stories in my head, and before even thinking about how it looks or how it'll be received I think about how well it translates the stories I want to see and how happy it makes me specifically. I've always done it that way and having an audience for it or not doesn't truly change that. Besides, I'm more of a writer than an artist at heart, so how "good" the art looks compared to other people's art is secondary to how faithful it is to the characters and scenes I've created. It's part of the reason I struggle so much with merch and creating art for printing, it just never feels quite right to create for how it looks VS what it says :'D

I'm also a big fan of just switching context if you're not feeling it. Art isn't bringing you joy (and it's not your main source of income)? Switch it up! Do something else, think about other things, and maybe one day you'll return to it with renewed energy - and if you don't, that's alright too. I didn't draw shit for years while studying but bounced back in 2016/17 and have been drawing nonstop since

Don't know how well this translates into actual advice but alas

#ask

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waytootiredstudent · 3 days ago

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Öhm. So this has gotten a wider reach than I thought! It does feel good to read the notes and to know none of us are alone in this moment what the actual fuck is happening.

Have an update. Because new things have happened and because in my attempt to keep it as a brief overview I skipped over. Like. A lot.

The tldr version:

There are two different votes, one to dissolve Parlament, one to elect Parlament. Theres a lot of discussion about that. It's the vote of no confidence that Merz is calling for to be next week, not an election!

Currently we don't have a majority in the goverment to, well, govern. Some ministers have two ministries to look after now. The guy who just got kicked from his job is already loudly proclaiming he wants to be finance minister again in the next coalition. Insanity all around.

The long version:

Let's start with something that made me laugh to keep the mood from being so doom-y yes?

You are so correct I love to know that thank you very much.

Now to clear up a little misunderstanding in the notes:

There's two different votes:

A vote of no confidence

An election

Those are two different things with two different time frames. In my attempt to keep it brief I think I scrapped one paragraph too many.

What Merz, the CDU guy that is a human being that forgot its soul somewhere on the way, has called for to happen next week is the vote of no confidence. Not the election itself. The vote of no confidence would dissolve Parlament if Scholz, the current chancellor, loses it, which it's pretty sure that he would. According to our Constitution after the dissolvement of Parlament, they 60 days to hold an election. Ppl responsible for that have already said "I mean this is our job yeah we can do that". Scholz wants that vote to happen in January, to hold the election in march.

Now that we got that out of the way, let's return to the insanity shall we?

Yes I understand completely but there's more:

So you remember how I said this is a messy divorce? The FDP has kept most of their children (the ministers, besides the one drama bitch that jumped ship)(yes the FDP didn't even manage a collective walkout why do you ask) but that left the seats open and the coalition needs to fill them. Which has resulted in a mud feast of accusations about how the coalition is putting up there friends in those seats to get them money and pensions and there have been calls to stop all promotions.

Well I don't know if you know that but you do need ministers to keep your goverment functioning.

Which is way there are now a couple ministers, including the one of the FDP that jumped ship, hold two ministries. The swearing of the new ones was so hasty that a couple ministers didn't make it and had their secretaries (I sure hope thats the right translation of the job lol) be their instead as a witness.

Now we have different problem besides that nobody knows what's going on or can agree on what's supposed to happen. Our current government is a minority goverment. Which is why Merz, you remember, the corpse of a human being that somehow convinced everybody that he's technically alive and should be given money for it, yes I am biased is that obvious, has called for the vote of no confidence to be called next week. So the elections could happen mid January instead of mid march.

Now. Let's break that down. What happens after a vote of no confidence?

Well if he loses Parlament will dissolve. Great time right now to not have a functioning goverment right?

Yeah. That. So everybody is split everybody is yelling over each other, there have been already two closed door meetings, one between the CDU and SPD (current chancellor's party), and there has been no agreement on any front. So it's currently a 'waiting with baited breath on what the fuck is going to happen'. Will we have a functioning goverment tmw?

Who knows! Not us!

Well i hope we will and I hope they get their shit together and agree on something because let me tell you I am not made for this kinda stress.

Best summed up like this:

I am so sorry btw for everyone that put their phone aside to escape the America election meltdown just to come back and find the German government meltdown.

Now we go backt to where it all started. Recently fired ex-finance minister Lindner. Yeah that bitch.

He is already making noise about how he's gonna be the candidate of his party in the upcoming election and that he's ready finance minister again.

Like bitch. Or son of a bitch in this case. Take a hint. You just got fired.

Let me just remind you that it hasn't even been 24h since Scholz kicked Lindner and the FDP out. All of this. Happend in under 24 hours.

Okay alright sorry for all the sudden German politics influx but lemme explain what happened so far and why Germans are losing it a bit:

The tldr? Our government is getting a divorce and it's turning messy with elections being called early and now being called even earlier.

The longer version?

Okay so, groundwork first:

in Germany there is a coalition currently in power called the Ampel(traffic lights) bc the colours of the party are red, yellow and green (or not anymore or for much longer??). They're centrist slightly more left leaning than right leaning. (You could argue about that I am aware). There has been infighting for as long as this coalition has been going on. It is also the first three party coalition since y know, the Last Time.

So. Enough groundwork. The yellow party (FDP) has a finance minister (Christiane Lindner) it's this guy

You will see him in memes I am sure. We don't like him. He's an asshole and has blocked every meaningful change that the coalition had been trying to accomplish. He also got his finance plan blocked by our highest court because parts were against our Constitution.

(.... I am oversimplifying hard here it's actually more complicated than that and not fully his fault, but it's also not the focus)

What WAS the fault though of him and the FDP was that they had a strong position of "saving money at all costs" which made bigger and bigger rifts with the two other coalition partners who were more leaftleaning. The war in Ukraine, Infrastructure, climate change - there were many places that needed more money and Lidner was like naaahhhhh for no fucking reason other than "oh we need to save money!!"

Long story short there have been arguing all the fucking time and therefore have started to lose approval. Drastically lose approval. As on for the first time since the Last Time there is a far right party in charge for part of the country that is also being investigated for being Nazis. (Oversimplifying again).

Which is. Worrying. You know. Especially with Trump now being elected. It has us all a little skittish.

The finance minister has also now been fired.

You see. We were all still trying to stomach Trump winning the US election, when Scholz, in the same fucking evening, fired Lindner.

And not in a polite way. Nah. Olaf fucking Scholz our Chancellor, notorious for saying literally nothing, and with a running joke that he regularly stops existing bc that man Does Not Take Stances, a spine of wet cardboard, delivered this yesterday evening:

(English subtitles by me you already got this far watch it I spent too much time on this lol)

And it is insane alright. For his standards and German politic standards thats the equivalent of calling Lindner a egomaniacal bitch that has only his self interest at heart and can not be trusted.

Lindner and his party have been pulverised in all recent elections. Which means that after he was fired, the FDP completely withdrew from the coalition and all minister from the FDP resigned.

....well all but one who apparently stayed in his positions because he's leaving the FDP over this. What sort of shitty backstabbing kindergarten fight is this. (Jokes aside hes the minister of transportation and says he needs to stay in office in important projects. Which. True. Having minister resigning en mass is not good)

Alright cool cool cool cool. Current situation yesterday is the following:

So. Trump is president. Fuck.

Lindner got fired! Yaaay!

Wait my goverment is now also falling apart! Fuck.

Which all lead to new elections being called in Germany.

Mind you, that's not usual ok. I know other countries have systems where they can call an election whenever but that is not a thing that normally happens here. We have a schedule alright. (Insert obligatory "Germans and their plans and structure" joke)

So new elections are called for spring, nearly a year early. Cool cool cool. With a right wing rising in Germany and deeply unpopular current leadership. On the eve of motherfucking trump getting elected.

Habeck, leader of the green party and one of the few policians in germany I think is vaguely liked by ppl (the general attitude in German politics is less "I like this guy" and more "you are the least shitty choice I guess") has appearently also nearly started crying after the news broke. So. Yeah.

Now. Let's make this shitshow complete,alright?

There is this party. CDU. They had been in charge for a very long time in Germany. Centrist, right leaning, with the afd on the rising even more right leaning than before. Their current leader is Friedrich Merz, as unpleasant as human beings can go.

He has now called for the new election to be not in a few months but like. To be called next week.

In the current climate.

So yeah. if you're German mutuals and friends are currently going through their own stages of grief - this is why.

#german politics #christian lindner #olaf scholz #wahlen #german elections #german stuff #the general insanity that is gripping us all

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icarusredwings · 17 hours ago

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I dont CARE that it's November 9th and "Halloweens over" ITS MY BIRTHDAY MONTH ILL POST IF I WANT TOO

Anyway.

Thinking about apocolpse au.

Wade getting bitten by a zombie, Logan freaking out, Wade dying, and him coming back (Again)

"Didn't you just die?? I literally fucking burried you!!"

And wades like:

"Of course. Man, God REALLY hates you dosn't he?"

And he's bassically the same person except just saying, "Rahhah har ran re" (translation: I think the devil doesn't want me either)

"What?? Oh for fucks sake... tell me you're kidding.."

"Rah?" 🤔

"Great so now you stink more and you can't talk. Fucking lovely."

"Mmmmh..." 🥺 (would you still love me if I was a zombie?)

"*sighs, blushes and grumbles how insane this is and how much of a bad idea this is* Fine! Come on...."

"Raah!!" 😄

And sometimes his limbs fall off because I think it would be funny if you just saw him stop, turn around, pick up his arm and shove it back into place like a dislocated shoulder. (Marvel Magic)

But its very obvious that Wade is still consious and so logan leads him around, puts a leash on him, ties him up when he goes to sleep the first few nights so wade dosn't eat him, sometimes luring him with a piece of his thigh or telling him he'll feed him soon to make him behave.

The only thing about this resource wise is that it seems Wade is a bottomless pit, not ever able to get enough. It's like all the nutrients just pass right through him, so he can't get fed meals daily, but Logan will share at least one bite of his food. It makes Wade so happy and way more "wade like" than zombie.

Logan has learned that the hungrier Wade gets the worse it would be, snapping at logan a few times.

"Grr-"

"Aye! That's enough outta ya"

"GggRah!"

"Hey!! I said no! Bad! Bad wade!"

"Mmmh??"

"Bad!!"

"Mmh....rahah.."

"I forgive you. But stop trying to bite me. I feed you, don't I? I hold your hand and tell you that I love you?"

Wade is actually extremely friendly for a zombie (duh) and still yaps at logan except its nonsense. Logan tries hard to understand him and talk back.

He holds his hand sometimes, even lays next to him only to scold him if he gets too bitey. This is hard because wade already had a biting issue and seeing as he practically ate anything or anybody now it was more difficult.

"...aahh-"

"Wade- No."

"Ggr.. raahh"

"Wade! No! Bad."

"Mmmh..."

"Ill feed you tomarrow. Don't bite me mkay? You wanna hurt me?"

He shakes his head like a dog shaking off from a bath, or that ate a bee.

"Then don't bite me."

"Mmh? Mrah?"

"No. No kisses right now. Im still not even sure if thats safe.."

"Mmmh...🥺 ahrrah?"

"No, not even a tiny one."

"Mm...😔"

Until Logan grunts and pecks his hand. "There. Happy?"

"🙂‍↕️mh"

"Good."

Honestly Logan felt bad, pitited him. No matter what food he ate it wasnt enough substance to sustain him and sometimes Logan would wake up to find him eating a different zombie that made the mistake of trying to eat Logan.

You ever wake up in the morning, lose your zombie boyfriend, call for him only to walk outside and see him knawing on some poor chaps arm like a happy puppy who found a chicken leg? Logan has. Many times. And he wishes his phone would charge so he could take a picture of it but unfortunately theres no electricity in the post apocalypse world.

This being said Logan is like- THE perfect guy for apocalypse au because he can smell everything and hear anyone before they even get to you, he has better wilderness survival skills then anyone I know and he'll never NOT have a weapon on him because of his claws. The only downside is that he's tired easily, needs a lot of food, and would lowkey be withdrawing from his tabccao and alchool, therefore very moody.

"Stupid fucking apocalypse having to happen when im fucking alive!! Why can't I just NOT live through ONE major historical event! Is that too fucking much to ask? One damn decade where everything is fine and dandy and- WADE! Get your ass away from that!! It's radioactive!! For fucks sake!"

"Rahahrah?"

"NO!! You can not become Spiderman! That's not how that works!"

"Aawr..😔"

The whole thing is they're on a quest to find Laura and Gabby, because when everything went to shit, they were on a cabin trip and now Logans brain is itching because he dosn't know where his babies are and its driving him insane. Once he finds them, they're gonna shack up somewhere with food and animals to hunt, and hes gonna make a little shed outside for Wade to sleep because he'll kill him if he bites one of the girls.

He dosnt care that much about himself really and he hates himself deep down for not being able to trust wade anymore but even wade dosnt trust wade, sometimes wandering off on purpose, staying about 30 feet away from him at all times, growling and giving Logan that glazed over look of unconsiousness. The only good thing about this, though, is after he removes himself from the idea of hurting Logan (because if logaj were to become infected - HA! Your all fucked. Utterly fucked. The whole humanoid species would go extinct because he'd kill anything that moved) he feels more trusting of him and it's not uncommon for them to hug after either. Afterall Wade- Some how???- is still wade and is very affectionate and sensitive when its not returned.

This whole thing also makes him think worse about himself, kicking reflective objects or staring at himself in a shop window in utter shock and disgust with a face of 'thats me..?' While logans raiding the place for supplies.

Did you know zombies can cry? Well, Wade could. Not a lot, only able to get a bit of liquid from dehydration, but sometimes Logan will catch him just... sitting there.. crying. Upset with himself for being bit. Upset with himself for trying to bite logan all the time. Upset at how ugly he is. Upset that he's starving all the time. Upset that he can't even talk to anyone, and Logan just has to guess what he's saying 90% of the time. Bro is literally

When they DO find Laura and Gabby, the girls are doing great. Laura was going to blow wades head off until Gabby ran in the shot, hugging him instantly, only to be ripped away.

"Of course my dad is the weirdo married to a zombie." Laura grunts, but is secrelty happy that wade is still 'alive'

Gabby, being as young as she is, thinks it's so SICK that her dad is a zombie now, giggling when he talks to her and holding his hand. She's not allowed near him for long, and not at all by herself, but Gabby bassically becomes Wades number one supporter, defending him when he messes up and snaps at laura.

"He's just hungry!! He's not bad! It's not bad to be hungry!" She'll say. "You wouldn't kill me if I was hungry.." she tells her bigger, more survival oriented sister whos suggested putting wade out of his misery, for his own sake. "I tried that... he found me again 3 days later." Logan tells her with a pang in his chest. It had taken everything in him to kill him the first time, and sobbed himself to sleep the next 2 days. By the third when he noticed Wade following him from a distance he couldn't believe it.

Not even the apocalypse could keep them away from each other..

#post apocalyptic #apocalypse au #laura kinney #gabby kinney #zombie boyfriend #its giving #lisa frankenstein #zombie au #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadclaws #if youre wondering how he got bit it was puppins

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ppssession · 3 days ago

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Just try changing it.

คิงใช้ชีวิตที่น่าเบื่อและธรรมดามานานหลายปี โดยทำงานเป็นพนักงานระดับล่างในบริษัทแห่งหนึ่ง ระหว่างทำงาน เขาได้พบกับหัวหน้าคนใหม่ เคน เขาได้รับการเลื่อนตำแหน่งเป็นซีอีโอแทนคิงทันที เพียงเพราะเขาเป็นหลานชายของชายชราเจ้าของบริษัท ทำให้เขาอิจฉาชีวิตที่ดีกว่าของเคน

It was sad that all he could do was watch Ken continue his life of luxury. As he was walking home one day, he met a mysterious old man. He said something strange to King.

The mysterious old man: Do you want a better life, young man?

King was a little surprised by the mysterious old man's words.

King: What do you mean?

Mysterious Old Man: Are you tired of living your boring and exhausting life? Do you want a better life?

King: Yes, I'm tired of this boring and repetitive life.

Old Man Deep: Yes, but it takes too much time to make your life better, right? Why don't you try other methods?

King: Another way?

Mysterious Old Man: Yes, another way, the Mysterious Old Man takes out a bottle of some water, drink it and you will find it.

When King received the bottle of water, he was about to answer when the mysterious old man disappeared.

King: Oh, where did he go? Never mind.

When King returned home, he lay down on his small bed, exhausted. He fell asleep, forgetting all about the mysterious old man and the strange water bottle.

When he woke up the next morning, he just remembered the words of the mysterious old man. He took out a bottle of strange water and looked at it, saying to himself, "Another way." So he drank all the water. When he finished drinking, he began to feel that his body was strange. It felt lighter and lighter. When he came to, King was floating above his fallen body.

He didn't care much about what his body was like, he felt that he could change his destiny, he slowly floated towards Ken's house immediately, when he arrived he saw Ken who was getting dressed.

King slowly got closer to Ken's body, one of his hands touched Ken's body, it penetrated into Ken's body, Ken's body twitched a little when the hand entered his body, King immediately knew that this was a good opportunity, he slowly inserted when he entered Ken's body, the other side of Ken's body twitched more, then both legs.

When King's body entered Ken's body, leaving only the head that had not yet entered, Ken's body stiffened. Now Ken knew that something strange was happening to his body. When King's head entered Ken's head, Ken groaned, his eyes rolling back and forth, trying to resist King's invasion, but it was no use. Ken's body slowly calmed down, his eyes returning to normal before showing an evil, smirking face.“This is awesome. This is what I want. These muscles are so tight.” Ken continued to dress himself.

King who possessed Ken's body inherited Ken's perfect life. "It's time to enjoy a new life and a new body." King finished dressing and left for the company. "Look at why the CEO has such a hot figure. It's because he came this way. Now I am Ken, the CEO of this company.

This is my first story. I used a translation program because I'm not very good at English. ^^ I apologize if there are any confusing parts. If you like it, you can follow and wait to see the next story.

#male body possession #body possession #body theft

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forgettable-au · 1 day ago

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What was Wingdings and Sans’ school life like? especially early on when Wingdings couldn't talk without some sort of translation. Did they ever get bullied?

Not too important for the story, i'd assume, but you just gotta love the little things-

Yeah... this is probably not gonna matter to the story a lot...

BUT I ALSO LIKE THE LITTLE THINGS SO I'LL ANSWER!!

I'm gonna add a keep reading here because I'll probably yap a lot

Okay, so you would assume they would have been bullied... But they weren't!! not really?

Probably in a more realistic world they would have been, but usually, monsters are pretty nice!! (with some exceptions)

SO! I'm gonna talk about how I think it would have gone

Monsters were nice to Dings, friendly! But there was always the inconvenience of not being understood. And Sans was there to help him but I don't think Wingdings liked that, he wanted to do so himself or not at all And as I've said before, at some point, Wingdings gave up on making friendships work, he isolated himself and focused and what really mattered!!

Sans did have friends! But his first priority was his brother, if he had to skip friend time to be with Wingdings he would do that

So he never really made close friends, just friends

Going back to Wingdings, there were probably some mean monsters that did bother him about the dingbat font at some point, but that wasn't a usual thing! Usually, monsters were nice! And though there was definitely a barrier, they didn't care all that much? BUT WINGDINGS DID CARE, HE KNEW HE WAS DIFFERENT TO EVERYONE ELSE AND WHAT THAT COULD MEAN, so why even bother?

When I was thinking about this I remembered that one scene from Meet the Robinsons:

AND JFKFJKDCJDSK

Small Dings was kinda like that

He was usually outcasted, but no one really disliked him?? They just didn't know him at all because he didn't even try talking to anyone

So no one approached or talked to him, if anything they found him intimidating

Sans was there with him the whole time! So it's not like he had no one at all, but uh,,,, yeah

#something like this!#very early on I did think about making it worse? how people treated him? but #monsters are usually very kind #there's exceptions of course #like jerry #everyone hates jerry #but uh #yeah #and I thought #sometimes you just *think* you're gonna be bullied or disliked and avoid people because of that #and realizing you could have made friends with those people if you had just tried hurts more #I'm glad Sans made Alphys work with them #Now wingdings can't avoid interacting with other monsters and realizing it's actually not that bad #Please don't interpret this as me saying he didn't struggle and that he imagined it to be bad #It was definitely bad #not being able to communicate must suck a lot #answered ask

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quiescentem-puella · 18 hours ago

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among all the panels from the soul-crushing Till's comic, I think the one that gets me the most is this one

bc...we already knew that Till was the more sensitive and emotional of the cast, but this frame really puts in perspective how he was just a kid desperately craving affection. He knew what it was like to be loved and that's what he wanted. I think Mizi, with her innocence and her detachment from reality (she was the only one unaware of what being a participant of alien stage really meant), was the closest thing he had to the time when he also was like that. When he was with Io, he had no idea about the cruelty of the aliens... he was just happy to sing and have his mom smile at him. HE WAS LIKE MIZI TOO!!! but at some point, he was torn away from his home and his innocence.

Mizi... she is the "before". When he was warm and taken care of and loved and singing didn't mean dying. Imo Mizi is very similar to child Till and that's why he longs for her with such fierce passion.

(there's also much to say about how Till only knew that love was warm and kind, while the hateful aliens were harsh and cruel... and how Ivan, unable to express love in the way Till knew and understood, ended up behaving more like the aliens than anything else, at least in till's pov. how could Till ever begin to think Ivan loved him, when he was nothing like the love he knew?)

it isn't just that Till was loved. It's that he knew he was loved and basked in that. And that stayed with him until the very end, because even if the other kids in the anakt garden called him a friendless loser...

the love his mother had for him stayed with him. forever.

[translation by WhataFruit on twitter link here]

#today i'm also crying about till #do not speak to me i'm breaking down #alnst #alien stage #alnst till #alnst mizi #alnst ivan #mizitill #also bc i need to insert it everywhere:#ivantill #ivantill was a tragedy in miscommunication i will die on this hill #rant

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thisismeracing · 1 day ago

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Can I please request a charles dating a Greek girl *like the Korean girl you did*???👉🏻👈🏻🥹🥹🥹🥺🥺

Hi, love!!! of course <3 here you go! sorry for taking forever, I was off for a bit and just got back hihih

MICK DATING A GREEK GIRL | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to greeks and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Mick already knows Greece, but when you two start dating he's in for a whole new adventure aka getting familiar with culture, sayings, and the idiom;

He becomes obsessed with Greek cuisine. To him, everything is better when it's Greek - greek rice, greek break, greek spaghetti, and the latter let it slip during an interview, and you bet Ferrari fans we're mad for a week or so;

He would encourage you guys to visit the less tourist-centered cities and islands, instead suggesting places where you grew up or had stories to tell;

Mick would make sure to always have his camera on him and register random photos of you - he has a 'Greek girl <3' folder that consists mostly of pictures of you;

Randomly learned to introduce himself in Greek, but got his age wrong and it didn't matter how many times you tried to correct him, he would always forget and say it wrong again, so you just accepted that he was one hundred five instead of twenty-five when in Greece;

Though Mick loved the homey cities, he also loved the famous islands and whenever you traveled there at least one weekend would be spent in one of those. Athenas, Santorini, Corfu, Mykonos, Crete, Zakynthos, Ithaca, you name it, he will pack his bags at the speed of light and be ready to tag along;

He would watch movies that were ambient in Greece and ask you if things were accurate. He looved Mamma Mia and Greek Wedding;

Totally hints that he wants to have a greek wedding after you attend one together; The plates breaking? The common cup? the wedding face? He watched it all in awe;

Now when it comes to meeting the family Mick is nervous. He wants to make everything right so he will try to at least introduce himself in Greek -and he'll most likely get nervous again and say he's one hundred-five years lol it becomes a family thing, and he feels at home around your folks;

Same to you and his family that will definitely put Greece on their next vacay destination just to spend some quality family time with everyone.

Overall Mick is just super curious and open to learning about you and your culture, and will go around talking about how cool things are in Greece because he's this type of person. He's obsessed with your country, but he's even more obsessed with you.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I hope you guys liked it! Let me know your thoughts, it means a lot to me <3 *mwah*

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#millies inbox #anon #ms47 #mick schumacher #op: headcanons #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #mick schumacher x reader #greek!reader #mick schumacher headcanon #mick schumacher imagine #f1 imagines #f1 headcanons

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mikimakiboo · 3 days ago

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Time Travelers AU - The Night Sky Is Filled With Gay Thoughts

This one is shorter than the other chapters but I really felt like Nightmare's gay panic deserved its own chapter lmao

First

@ancha-aus your seat is reserved

We entering Nightmare's bitch arc ya'll

Tw: some slightly suggestive talk but nothing serious happens, self hatred of course as I am physically unable to write about Nightmare without adding angst

The moon was so high in the sky, everyone was sleeping. Everyone one except Nightmare, he had been unwell all day, since Horror came back from his hunt, he had found himself spacing out, not responding to either Killer nor Dust when they tried talking to him, having trouble concentrating enough to translate, and totally unable to look at Horror in the eyesockets. Now he was laying on his back, on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

What happened ? He had felt weird all afternoon, starting when Horror came back. He should have been horrified, the Viking came back covered in blood, holding a dead body on his shoulder, his stained weapon still in his hand. It has truly been an unsettling sight to see. He had put his axe, his blood stained axe, right next to Nightmare, and he had looked at him, planting his gaze in his, and Nightmare couldn't look anywhere else. Had he been scared ? Of course he had been scared, what kind of brute brought back his pray like that ? Still dripping with blood and without washing at least his hands ? But, he felt something new when his gaze met Horror's gaze...

He saw this brute, this man, holding a full corpse on his shoulder like it was a feather, covered in sweat and blood that wasn't his, his large hands holding an axe that looked no less heavy but that he manipulated with ease. And he felt his soul burn. He didn't know if his cheeks blushed, but he felt his whole body become hotter. When Horror left to cook he didn't know what to do, and Killer's staring at him with his grin didn't help him sort out his thoughts.

He couldn't think at all for the whole day, not participating in conversations during meals, he did his best not to look at the Viking, not to think about his hands, damaged by a hard life, about his muscular arms that could brobaly break him in half if he wanted to, hold him down and he wouldn't be able to move.

Nightmare shifted on the couch, turning his back to the living room, thinking about Horror above him and holding him down surprisingly didn't help calm his already racing soul.

Why did he feel so hot when thinking about the giant ? He shouldn't feel that way, Horror was a Viking, a brute who's only passtime was pillaging villages, killing men and kidnapping women for their own pleasure, there was nothing admirable in that. Really, thinking about Horror entering his home, breaking his belongings and take him away to keep him as a prize, a trophy, was truly terrifying. And yet he felt his face burn at the thought of being taken by him, preciously kept away as a fancy war prize for only Horror to touch and see.

That wasn't right. Horror could kill him, or worse, he could do unspeakable horrors to him, make him uffer, torture him mentally and physically, then tend to his wounds to ensure he wouldn't die, keep him safe from other pillagers, dress him with riches to show off to the other Vikings, tell him he is his and his alone, that no one else would ever put their filthy hands on him...

Nightmare got up. He needed water. He went to the bathroom, feeling like he would faint at any moment with the heat in his body. He watched the water flow for a few seconds before taking some in his hands to splash on his face until he felt cooler. He stayed bent over the sink for a while before standing straight and looking at himself in the mirror. His brother would probably laugh if he was there. Seriously, how pathetic could he be ? Losing his composure like that like he was some young lady fresh out of the coven discovering what temptation was ? He shouldn't feel that way ! He was a noble man ! He went back to lay on the couch.

He had a future planned for him, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted like that, he had to marry a noble woman, a lady with the same rank as him, and give her kids to ensure the continuity of his prestigious bloodline. That was what every noble did, that was what his mother did, what she had told him to do before passing away. He had to marry someone rich and full of virtue, love wasn't even on the table, you didn't marry out of love. His mother didn't marry out of love, there had never been any love in anything she had done, from marrying to having children, she had done everything because it was her purpose as a noble woman, not once had she felt any love for them, for her husband for whom she didn't cry at his funeral and for her two children whom she always let her servants take care of. That was just how things were supposed to work. That was what Nightmare, and Dream, were supposed to do, their glorious future.

And yet he found himself dreaming for more, dreaming of love, passion, of someone to hold tight and to be held tight by, someone to tell him he would be okay, that he didn't have to marry anyone he didn't want to, that he could let his heart chose. He tried so hard to make the wedding happen as late as possible, finding excuses to refuse the many proposals he received. He was so scarred of marriage. He didn't know why it scarred him so much, he knew he would still be free, that it was only for business purposes, that he wouldn't have to pretend to love his wife and she wouldn't have to pretend to love him either, but he would still have obligations that came with marriage. Children were a big part of this. He didn't dislike children, but he knew he would have to be intimate, he wasn't stupid, he knew how that worked, but he couldn't imagine himself doing.... that, with a woman... It was right but it felt wrong, it was the natural order of things but it didn't feel natural to him. Sure he could lie and say either him or his wife was infertile and that was why they couldn't have children, but lying about that wouldn't bring any good to their reputation, and reputation was important. No, he couldn't lie, but he couldn't do that either. It just didn't feel right...

And when he saw Horror bent over him, when he imagined him holding him, taking him away from everything he knew and making him his... everything had felt so right, so natural. He wanted him, he wanted him so bad. He didn't want to marry a woman, but he wanted to be Horror's prize, he wanted to be his precious thing, he wanted him to rock his world and softly kiss him, to tell him he could have hundreds just like him but he was the only one for him. He wanted this wicked romance. He wanted the harsh and he wanted the soft. Horror was soft. Soft and patient. He was careful around them, respected boundaries, brought back food, didn't have any vile intentions, he was only looking to care for them, for Dust particularly, as he was their unfortunate host with not enough means to provide for everyone. He was a gentle giant. A gentle giant with great strenght. Nightmare wanted that.

He hated himself for wanting that. His mother would have hated him too if she was still alive. She had always hated him anyways. He shouldn't feel that. It wasn't proper for a noble. He was such a disgrace, a pathetic excuse of a noble, no wonder he always felt out of place among his pairs, he couldn't do things right, he couldn't even feel right.

He grabbed a pillow to press it against his chest, laying down facing the back of the couch. He wanted to dissapear, to go back home and never see any of them ever again, to talk to his brother, Dream always knew what to do, he was always right, never out of place, he was everything Nightmare wasn't. But he wasn't there, and Nightmare was alone to face these atrocious feelings.

He hated it. He hated Horror for making him feel so good and so bad at the same time and he hated himself for allowing these feelings to take roots in his soul and for feeding them with his overthinking.

He just hated himself so much right now. He hated how he felt and he hated that he was crying again. It was the only thing he was good at sometimes. Crying.

He was pathetic.

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captnbunnie · 3 days ago

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Oh man, I had been waiting to read this post!! Problem was that everytime I remembered I could not find where I saved it haha (spoiler: it was on my own chat lol)

Anyways, oooh this is very interesting!! It makes Odysseus such a human and complex character, it's incredible the levels of mastery that Homer had with his sotries!

Honestly everytime I read one of your analysis I cannot stop myself from comparing the Odyssey to Epic, and it just makes me realise more and more how much the musical missed and what we could have had! The idea of listening to a musical in which Odysseus is helpless in the face of fate, where he does his best in saving his men, having an objective that is not just about him (seeing Penelope and Telemachus again) but is about all the men that are with him (trying to save the most men he can and take them home with him), just gets me yearing for one!

I still keep thinking about that post you made about Circe, how it would have been so much better if we'd have seen Odysseus not being able to reject Circe's proposal, and him just calling to Penelope and the gods,,, and then later how it would have sounded if instead of "embracing" violence, he had just felt depressed and humiliated after Charybys and Calypso, with only his desire to see his family and kingdom again to push him forward, maybe also as a tribute to remember the sacrifice of his men and their efforts during the war and the travel,,,

I really don't like much how he became a violent beast in the last saga, I think it's very out of character for him (as if everything that happened earlier wasn't lol), but as you said in many other of your posts, I think it would have had a better inpact if the end point of the travel was to show a desperate man trying to come home but left to face the force of nature alone. I think it really does a better job at translating how, even if he has all the resolution in the world, even if he has a very strong wish, even if he tries his best, it does not mean that he'll be able to get what he wants. It doesn't mean anything in the face of reality and nature and fate, much stronger forces then a mere man. I truly enjoy those kind of stories much more because they portray something real, something that could happen to all of us. Instead Epic decided to go to the more "edgy" route, which maybe I would have appreciated more when I was younger haha.

Also while reading this I was listening to "Monster" (one of the songs of the Underworld saga) and it made me just yearn harder for a different adaptation of the Odyssey in Epic haha because I think that that song, if taken out of context (so ignoring everything else that happens in Epic) maybe could have been a song that represented Odysseus in a more "just" way?

Before continuing, I gotta say that I've read only some excerpts and some analysis of the Odyssey, so what I'm about to say might be very wrong haha (but that's why I'm sharing my toughts with you, cause I'm curious to know what you think about this)

Anyways, I think it would be actually a nice song related to him, I really like how he shows empathy towards his "enemies", after all, if I didn't read those scenes wrong, he does the same in the Odyssey. When he enters Polyphemus' cave, even if he knows he might be in danger, he still decides to follow xenia and give Polyphemus a chance to show hospitality (even if it doesn't work out), he is also shown to give Calypso sympathy, when he is about to get home, and see things from her point of view (even after all she did to him). So I think it's a good moment of self reflection for him, it shows that he is not in search for enemies but he just wants to go home.

Even the way he talks about Poseidon, saying "Or does he keep us in check so we must respect him / And now no one dares to piss him off?" I think it does reflect in a way what the Odyssey, or just any myth, tries to warn men about, respecting gods and nature because they are bigger forces that cannot be contrasted (which is very ironic if interpreted like this, because the last saga shows us the exact opposite lol)

And the last verse too "Does a soldier use a wooden horse to kill sleeping trojans cause he is vile? / Or does he throw away his remorse and save more lives with guile" I think it could go along with what you say in this analysis, that he makes decisions that others cannot to save as many people and lives as he can (even if he doesn't get many results,,,) and it also highlights how some people say that he played "dirty" with the wooden horse, but here it makes you realise why he did so, and that his plan is as honorable as attacking directly is.

The only thing that I think is kinda out of place in this interpretation of the song is that here he says that he still has to become "ruthless" to save his men, thus becoming a "monster", which I feel undermines what I said until now, that is that what he did, what others tought was "playing dirty", is actually that, an unjust plan.

Anyways, all this just to say that your analysis have been plaguing my mind and I keep thinking about a different version of Epic, and this song absolutely dealt a blow on me because, it has potential!!!! And yet, it's not used. It makes me yearn so hard for a true adaptation of the Odyssey.

I feel like if one were to adapt the Odyssey with songs, it would be a much better fit a musical series , like hazbin hotel haha (yeah, I want the songs that badly, I love musicals XD)

(Sorry if I started talking about Epic under such a good analysis of the Odyssey, I know that it seems kinda out of topic (and it probably is), but I don't think a comment would have been fit to write all this stuff haha)

Why didn't Odysseus's crew stage a mutiny against him in the Odyssey? (An analysis based on Homer's Odyssey)

It has been a while since the last time I did some Odyssey Analysis and here is an interesting question that goes on in this. A very valid question actually.

During the arduous trip in the Odyssey, the Cephallinians suffered greater loss than anything they suffered at the 10 year war at Troy. They lost almost all ships and all men were dying. They were reduced to a ship of a crew with less than 40 people and they didn't seem to get much hope. So of course one could ask; what was holding them back and didn't fight back against Odysseus apart from the indirect mutiny they did when he turned his eyes away from him to pray? Why their only mutiny was to disobey his orders and slay the cattle of Helios Hyperion? Surely more than 30 men could do plenty of damage to one man right? Why didn't they? And why is it important for the story?

So while thinking about it I came down with some possible explanations as to why that happened;

Odysseus was beloved to the gods

Regardless of their terrible situations, Odysseus probably still had the fame of someone beloved to the gods. He used to be directly communicating with Athena and was under her protection. Despite the fact that he was cursed by a god, there could be some sort of a thought running to their minds; what if we harm him and the gods strike us for it? What if there will be consequences for directly wishing harm to one who was blessed to be appreciated by gods? It could possibly be a risk that they didn't want to take. And it makes sense given how much Odysseus interracted even with minor gods during the trip (for example Aeolus or Circe). Quite frankly they might as well have wished that at some point Odysseus would appeal to yet another god for help.

Odysseus was beloved to his subjects

If you look at my other analysis here You can remember how beloved leader Odysseus was even to subjects such as slaves who in theory would have no real reason to be loyal to him. Odysseus seemed always to be a just and beloved leader and his men on the ship were not an exception. Regardless of whether they had lost faith hin him in his capability to bring him home or if they doubted his judgement, they couldn't get past the emotional connection; Odysseus had protected them during the war to the point of suffering the least possible losses, during the trip he was going to extreme measures to protect them (even the cruel misadventure in which Odysseus cut the rope from his ship to save the last ship from the Laestrygonians might as well have spoken volumes to the men that were saved). It would be hard for them to completely ignore that even in the face of mistrust. Somehow it would also be them thinking that they "owe him" till that part.

Odysseus was hiding stuff from them that could be important

Ironically the very source of their mistrust was protecting Odysseus. Odysseus didn't share with them the nature of the sack of Aeolus even if he seemed pretty clear that they couldn't touch it (and that led to their first tragedies). Later he hid the information that they would have to go through the Sirens till the very last moment where he warned them about it. Later he hid completely the information that they would go through Skylla and Charybdis. His men could think "How many more things did this man know on their way home and hid it from them?" if they captured or killed him in a mutiny how were they sure there weren't more dangers ahead that Odysseus was hiding from them and could either be informed the last moment or not at all? What guarantee did they have that Odysseus didn't know even MORE about their course? They had none. So ironically the very reason they began to mistrust him in the first place became the reason Odysseus was safe from their rage.

No one wanted to take responsibility at time of crisis!

Last and definitely not least comes for me the most important reason of all at least story-wise that shows how excellent writer Homer is into writing human nature. His men didn't stage a mutiny because no matter how displeased they were with his decisions, literally NO ONE wants to have the same responsibility to take decisions in time of crisis! Honestly, how many times do common folk feel themselves find a scapegoat usually to the face of their leaders when things go south? (and for good reason that is given that they are the ones with the responsibility to take decisions). When something goes wrong we blame the leader, the government or someone that has come forth and not only takes the decisions but also is responsible for the blame as well.

During their arduous trip Odysseus took some of the most painful decisions they could imagine in order to save what he could; he advised them to leave the Cicones and they didn't which led to their first tragedy; he tried to correct his mistake by appeasing the god Aeolus, he took the decision to sacrifice his ships in order to save the one he could knowing full well that they would never be able to fight against the Laestrygonians. He knew the 11 ships were lost cause so he acted fast cutting the ropes of his own ship and sailing away, making sure to save what he could even if that meant to the terrible loss. He traveled to the underworld even though he was alive, he chose Skylla over Charybdis knowing that the sacrifice would be too great but still not as great as to lose them all.

Regardless of their emotions at that moment; they put themselves in his shoes and realize that none of them would take the burden of leadership and take those decisions for them. Odysseus with his nerves of steel managed to save them so far even if they had so many losses and undoubtedly they realized that in his shoes they would never be able to act so efficiently and so fast. And knowing their own reactions against him; blaming him for the losses, they realize that none of them would have the guts to take not only the painful decisions but also the blame and hate that follows them. Odysseus was lifting on his shoulder as much hate and anger as very few others; not only his previous experiences at war and his actions but now his decisions of the trip. I have no doubt that even in their anger the men admired how he could carry it all.

Conlcusions:

Homer is a master of words and plot. I have no doubt that if he thought it served the plot he would have mentioned his men staging a full on mutiny against Odysseus or in one way I am almost certain he thought of the possibility being quite doable given as I said above that Odysseys was one man and the others were over 30. However knowing how great he is in protraying human emotions to his writing I think his choice of plot was deliberate.

Not only was Odysseus someone that could erupt not only controversy but also superstition given his close relationship with gods before, his leadership was always admirable regardless of the results (knowing his prudent nature and how plenty of his orders that were disobeyed ended up in a tragedy and let's face it Odysseus was also a brilliant fighter. I doubt anyone would easily take the first step to fight him one on one either!) and above all he was one of the best when it came on taking some really difficult decisions, carrying on his back not only the personal guilt he felt while taking them but also the anger of others and their retalliation. And in an amazingly human writing Homer speaks on times of crisis. When people do not wish to take responsibility at times of Crisis because they know full well that their decisions rarely ever would be painless!

Therefore they couldn't retalliate against him; they didn't want the responsibility of leadership or the blame for the losses. They didn't want to stand against authority directly either. So they took the indirect mutiny decision; when authority is not present they disobey or they break their will when the force of authority.

Could we perhaps one more time appeal to the usual theory of "unreliable storyteller" and speak on how Odysseus doesn't want to mention a mutiny in his story to Phaeakes because he doesn't want to appear as weak leader in their eyes?

We could but in my opinion this doesn't seem likely. Odysseus is already humiliated; shipwrecked and a beggar in their house. He mentioned how it was ellegedly his fault that the whole domino of reactions began when he mentions how he was yelling to Polyphemus being blasphemus that not even Poseidon could put him back together if he had killed him (which let's face it is too much given that gods had no probelm resurrecting some dead before). He had already mentioned his men not listening to him and disobedience was already a heavy thing. He didn't hide most of the unpleasant experiences during the trip so why miss the opportunity of shifting the blame to his men, saying that they stage a mutiny against him thus himself being unable to react instead of stating that he fell asleep during the prayer? To show that his men fear him so they do not dare to face him? Perhaps but it seems unlikely given the whole story in which Odysseus doesn't hide his bad sides from them.

What do you guys think? Let me know to your comments and reblogs below! ^_^

#sorry again TwT #but your analysis hount me (in the best way)#and I didn't know where else to share my toughts haha #also I know this might be redundant to you #I've seen you talk about how Epic had potential about other songs but didn't use it #I think I just wanted to add to that lol #I hope this is not too bad

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