#no but really this is a disgusting looking update its fucking terrible

[marioclash]

okay i made that last post not even seeing the discord mobile update and

hooooooly fucking shit

improve my ass

[stxrbpd]

me & my eating disorder.

i remember hating my body at 10.

i remember finding out about eating disorder tumblr. i remember taking cold bath after cold bath because someone on tumblr said itd burn calories.

i remember saving loads of “diet plans”, ana memes, desperately searching every day and night for more ways to lose weight and control my eating.

more ways to make myself fall sicker.

downloading app after app, fasting, restricting, counting calories, bmi, etc etc etc.

i cant look at food the same. i cant look at most things the same.

the most random stuff will trigger me and give me the strangest flashbacks.

trying to recover again, and again. only to fall back deeper into my eating disorder.

being on ed communities on tumblr, twitter & instagram.

making “friends” who help me starve and yell at me if i go over the calorie limit of the day, giving me punishments.

over exercising day and night, scrolling these ed communities every morning like a newspaper. every night like a bedtime story.

posting body checks, weight updates, finding thinspo.

binging and feeling terrible and losing my progress. then throwing it all back up and sobbing on the bathroom floor. or throwing it up into a bag in my bedroom and tossing it when nobody’s awake so they wont question why i was puking.

i have been doing this for 10 years.

its consumed my entire soul and being.

its never enough. my eating is the only thing i can control, and i might as well control that. my weight is the only thing i can control, if i try hard enough.

crying night after night after night on why im not skinny enough.

comparing myself to my friends, family, strangers. even children and cartoon characters. “god why cant i look like them?”

feeling absolutely fucking huge in a group setting and having silent anxiety attacks over it. running to the washroom to look at my body and see if i really look as huge as i feel.

being asked for a t shirt to borrow so it can be over-sized on my skinny friend.

watching the most disgusting youtube videos i could find of mukbangs so i would lose my appetite and never want to eat.

picking up smoking because i heard itd cause my appetite to suppress.

drinking green tea to boost my metabolism, chugging water bottle after water bottle, chewing gum all hours of the night, walking for over 3 hours a day for no reason, protein bars, laxatives, feeling jealous of sims, diet coke, making playlists of ed songs, hoarding food in my room, chewing and spitting, spraying perfume on food so i cant eat it, taking dinner to my room to “eat” then hiding it under my bed until people are asleep, finding out calories before consuming food, exercising in bed, hating yourself if youre even 5 calories over your daily limit, considering doing drugs to lose weight, being jealous of thinner friends, panic attacks when needing to eat in front of people, feeling like you need to self harm after eating for punishment, trying to burn off every calorie you ate that day, fainting, being dizzy, hair falling out, bruises everywhere, brain fog and constant fatigue, thinking constantly about your next meal and when the next time you’ll eat be and making the most of it.

yet it still feels, not enough.

my eating disorder will forever be apart of me. even in recovery, i think back of all of these things and it digs into me, ruining me, and scarring me.

[scp106sadoptedsonmwahahah]

part 2 (slow updates, sorry)

Scp-096 pov: 

096 felt instant fear as he heard the quiet sounds of moist skin and dripping liquids hitting the cold concrete floor. His breathing get heavier as he felt the overwhelming anxiety rising from his chest to his entire body at this point. He quickly covered his face once again, cowering in fear in front of the other person as he heard the footsteps get closer, and closer… but then they stopped right after the door to the room. ‘A door didn’t open… so are they gone?’ He questioned himself in his mind, his curiosity getting the best of him, which wasn’t really a good thing in his situation. Though he fought the urge to turn around and look behind him to see if someone was there, despite the circumstances. 096 uncovered his face slightly to where only his small blue eyes were showing, he looked at the metal wall in front of him to see a dark ominous shadow standing behind him. The shadow gave 096 an idea of who was behind him; a skinny, but fit, bald figure stood behind him. 096 can’t tell the gender of the mysterious person, though they do seem safe to 096, since they were just standing there doing nothing. But it's not like he could uncover his face, or talk to the other person with his horrible social skills.

Scp-106 pov:

He stands behind the unnaturally pale figure, staring at it with disgust, and maybe even sympathy. This thing was in terrible condition, to a point where it almost made 106 feel bad for it. It looked like a stick bug compared to The Old man, maybe if the stick bug was albino or some shit. Even if 106 felt slight pity for it, he still was disgusted by it. “Dégoûtant…” he muttered under his breath as he stared at the pale figure in front of him, even if he thought he himself was gross looking, he thought this.. thing… was equally, maybe less (but 106 doesn’t think that) as filthy looking as him. He observed the thing with surprise, he never knew something so close to a human could even look like this. It had blood splattered all over it which he expected for an scp that was in heavy containment, and it had some kind of mold or fungus growing on its left shoulder and on his thigh, which was showing since 096 was sitting crisscrossed. Holly fuck. The Old Man genuinely felt bad for this thing, even 106 had more cleanliness than this monstrosity, surprisingly. His expression hardened, the disgusting smell of this creature made 106 want to toss it into a bath and continuously throw bars of soap at it. Even he had more class than this vermin that sits in front of him.

Scp-096  

096 sits there, silently. He trembles with fear, though wondering why the thing behind him hasn’t moved. He takes a small deep breath, trying to calm himself down. But instead of a breath of fresh air, but instead of the air being fresh, he got probably the worst smelling oxygen he could ever have breathed in. Christ, it smelled like absolute shit. ‘Was there a dead animal behind me?’ Shy Guy thought, almost gagging at the heinous smell of the air. It was obvious that that thing behind him was absolutely disgusting, and should definitely take a bath. 096 wanted to say something so bad, though, he was scared about being mean to the person behind him… and just scared of the person in general.

No ones pov:

Both of the anomalies just stayed in this awkward position. The cold room felt warmer with this dumb situation. Both of the anomalies just stood there silently. The room was so silent, they didn’t even get the time to react to the loud dinosaur-like roar that echoed through the facility. 106 jumped slightly, looking towards the room's door, for him loud noises were just one cricket chirping to him. But on the other hand, 096, the one who The Old Man thought to be some kind of low intelligence creature who probably couldn’t speak, let out a loud yelp that made 106 slightly jump too. The old man looked to the direction of the pale man, seeing it now in the corner, covering its face, and hyperventilating. 096 was obviously troubled, but did 106 care? No. The old man stared at the other man for a few moments, before looking at the door of the room. He looked back to The Shy Guy and muttered “Va te préparer un bain.” He glared down at the other man, who was curled up in a ball with his face covered one last time before disappearing into the floor. It was silent. The sound of liquids dripping onto the floor has now gone away. 096 parted his fingers from his eyes, almost certain that the other creature was gone from the room. He was hesitant to turn around, in fear of what could be behind him, though he did it anyway.

There was no one.

096 pov:

096 could’ve sworn he heard, felt, and smelled someone behind him. But could it have been a hoax? What's left of his mind could just be playing tricks on him, he’d blame the foundation. Thinking that it was some kind of weird hallucination, he uncovered his face. 096 let out a sigh of relief and looked back to the… that's not the wall… right in front of 096 were big, white colored orbs staring right at him. He stared back. He knew what would happen, he felt his stomach drop, along with his mouth. His eyes widened.

106 pov:

The old man grinned as he stared at the… “The fuck?!” He let out as he saw the other humanoid's mouth drop unnaturally. That was his favorite thing to say in English, and probably one of his most said phrases that isn’t in French. Anyways, he flinched as he saw the other entity grab for him. He tried to pull back from this lanky creature in front of him, but that thing was way too strong. 106 barely got time to react as he felt something sharp stab into his head. Was it knives? No. It was teeth. He quickly grabbed onto the other person's shoulders, trying to pry himself out of their mouth; it worked, the creature pulled back in pain from 106s corrosive touch. It pushed 106 back into the wall and started bleeding from the corrosion. It went to the opposite corner of the room and put its arms around itself in an attempt to ease the pain as it healed on its own. On the other hand, 106 stared at the pale monstrosity. How that thing looked really interested him, mostly its limbs. 106 stared at that thing curiously, wondering how it got to that point. Normal growth? I couldn’t be. He glanced at their hands… god those hands are big… though, 106’s curiosity was interrupted by the sound of a gun cocking.

sorry to leave y’all on a cliffhanger, i wrote this at 3:26 at night 🙏🦅

[fluffy-lovely-clouds]

hey, im a sfw tk account!! obviously i 100% understand and respect boundaries but imma be honest your dni/intro post is really fucking off-putting. There are both a sfw and nsfw side of the community, both of which are 100% okay and should be respected. I understand there are a lot of kink accounts that do not respect boundaries ESPECIALLY with minors which is fucking disgusting, and that you are 100% entitled to say you don't like tickling that way and don't want to be associated with it.

Anyways. my point. "i hate fetishists just as much as everyone else" is the most baby ass thing ive ever heard, and you sound no better than any homophobe. you have every right to not want nsfw accounts to interact with you, but hating people for their harmless sexual interest is deeply immature and no different than if someone were to say they hate the sfw side of the community. Now you saying you're a minor is very vague - you could be 17 or 12, and there's a huge difference in that. If you're older, i suggest you learn to be a bit more mature, kink-shaming for something harmless is just a dick move and you can critique the nsfw community without doing so. If you're younger, then i doubt anyone else has told you this, but as long as it harms no one, its not an issue, and you can set boundaries without being an asshole.

Thank you so much for pointing this out actually. I have been meaning to update my intro lately because of exactly that that I put in there.

I just want you to know that I didn't mean to kink shame, but I did and there is no excuse for that. I believe when I first wrote that, what I had been TRYING to say was that I hate people disrespecting boundaries (such as a nsfw account harassing a sfw one) but I'm very bad sometimes expressing myself when it comes to writing. I couldn't process what wording to use to explain my boundaries and ended up putting that, and I instantly knew that it didn't sound right. And it doesn't, it sounds terrible. I realize that and I'm going to change that now.

Again thank you for being aware of that, it just goes to show how respectful of a person you are. Your looking out for both parts of the community and that's great. I aim to do the same, so don't worry that part in my dni list is disappearing

Edit: Hi, editing this because I realized how much of a kiss-ass I was being when answering. Look I realize that what I had in my bio was fucked up, and I knew it was, but I promise you I did not mean it. As I said before above, I'm terrible at putting my thought process into words, and I know that sounds like a lame excuse, even I think it does. Your probably wondering "how does this person who doesn't want nsfw interactions end up writing 'I hate fetishists'. It can't possibly be JUST because they can't write how they feel right. "

Well in a way yes, I don't think it was just that. After answering this, I sat down and thought back to when I first my bio and tried to think of any other reason why I wrote that. Well, I finally remembered something. Back when I still used my main blog for this content, I had put a very subtle and friendly dni to nsfw accounts that I didn't want any interaction because it made me uncomfortable, but NOT because I was against it. Despite that, a nsfw account followed me and was reblogging my stuff anyhow. That made me really uncomfortable and upset that they didn't listen that when I made this account to replace my main, I tried to be more assertive about nsfw accounts interacting.

I literally remember sitting there writing my bio and having a hard time processing exactly what I wanted to put because I was still iffy about my experience with the nsfw account. I've figured out what I want in my bio now, but what I had wanted to put back then was something like: "I hate nsfw accounts that direspect boundaries as much as anyone else." But I was having a hard time figuring out how to put that in words + I was frustrated and in the end it had come out as " I hate fetishists " even though I knew I didn't.

I was just trying really hard to make my restrictions clear since they hadn't been respected last time and ended up putting something really fucked that wasn't true, because I couldn't figure out how else to put it.

Nonetheless it was an asshole thing to say, but I didn't mean it. I've said things in conversations before that have come off wrong because I couldn't find my words. I'm neurodivergent, and I'm not using that as an excuse, I'm using it because it's the reason. I can't help that, and I know I'm not the only one who's like that either. Usually, it happens especially when I'm talking about something I'm against OR am making a point of. I just can not figure out how I want to say what I want to say! I usually end up thinking about what I shouldn't say, and for some reason that clumps together with what I DO want to say and it ends up coming all out sounding wrong.

I thank you for standing up for both parts of the community, but even though I wrote an asshole thing, that doesn't make me one, especially now that I've explained myself and I really wish you hadn't gone and assumed me for being one since you didn't know the whole story.

If your going to address someone for something they did, be more assertive and less aggressive

[bomberqueen17]

fic update: Golden Towers ch 2

Golden Towers ch 2, now on AO3

Ciri reaches Nilfgaard!

Tiron makes awkward conversation with the fucking Emperor of the Known fucking World, fuck his entire life

featuring a tiny indirect cameo from everyone’s favorite dumpling guy

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d have many fond memories of your time in the North,” she said, which certainly did get Emhyr to refocus his attention onto her.

“No?” he said mildly.

“Not that I even know how long you were there,” she said.

“I had a long unpleasant exile,” Emhyr said, but his tone didn’t grow heated. “But it wasn’t without its charms.” Ciri tried not to cringe, at that; was he going to say something disgusting about her mother?

“I quite liked some of the food,” Hesner put in.

“Yes,” Emhyr said, “the food-- much of it is terrible but there are a few dishes I do really miss, from time to time. I suppose now it would be rather fitting if I indulged.”

The conquering emperor feasting on the delicacies of his subjugated territories, Ciri thought with distaste, and gave up on hiding her facial expression. “I suppose,” she said.

“There was a place in Novigrad,” Hesner said, almost dreamily, “that had these dumplings, I mean, by the Gods, they were-- they were truly something. I admit I think about them a lot.”

“Oh,” Ciri said with some interest. “Where was it?”

“Ah,” Hesner said, and tapped his chin as he thought. “Not far from the docks as I recollect. Wasn’t a great neighborhood.”

“Most of Novigrad isn’t far from the docks,” Ciri pointed out, amused.

“Ah, I know,” Hesner said, chagrined. “I don’t know if I could find it again. Mostly Voorhis did the navigating.”

Ciri looked over at Voorhis, who had heard his name and glanced over at her. “The dumpling shop,” she said, “in Novigrad, do you know what street it was on?”

“Glory Lane,” Voorhis said, unhesitating.

[asrionsun]

i think im gonna leave the bg3 fandom entirely. [im sure no one cares, i dont contribute. im just ranting into the void for my own sake.] i hate pretty much all of the people in it because of their takes. its just disgusting, and its harming my mental health. its entirely ruined my enjoyment of the game, so im gonna abandon that too. [not to mention every update ruins more, takes more away, and alters it to fit the fucking terrible fandom views and leftoverdev bias of a story and characters that were once unique and wonderful.] im sick and tired of the abusiveness of the fandom toward the characters, the dismissal and belittlement of trauma, the fetishization, the ugliness of the way certain characters [gale specifically, but not ONLY him] are treated so fucking poorly and the insurmountable hypocrisy.

having to face the fact that so very many people are absolutely incapable of critical thinking and read things so extremely wrong - not able to parse emotions, cant read facial expressions and body language, cant/dont understand the story and the meaning of anything presented, miss the symbolism, can't understand inflection and delivery of lines and their emotional weight, the entire lack of comprehension of emotional and mental states or story elements and... everything else. its dragging me down so badly.

humanity is shit, people are complete and utter shit. it just sucks so bad, and everyone has destroyed any and all enthusiasm and joy i ever found in any of this because most people lack any depth or experience or ability to relate to anything without changing it to suit them entirely, thereby altering and ruining the story and its characters and flooding the entire fandom with head canons and misinterpretations until no one makes or discusses anything that isnt something run through a game of fandom headcanon telephone until its become unrecognizable and just... utterly hurtful and lost from its origin.

i... really hate yall. i dont understand why yall cant appreciate characters as they are. why do they need to be so entirely different for you to enjoy them? if gale doesnt suit your ideal, dont change HIM, go find a different character that fits your ideal instead. so when those of us that DO love actual gale go looking, we meet each other and get to see GALE. not some altered unrecognizable version that doesnt have any resemblance to the character we loved, who looks and acts entirely different. i fucking HATE yall.

[i-cant-sing]

Hey I have a yandere erasermic obsession. I don’t know if you do angst but what if they were punishing reader and she gets really exhausted and passes out. They think they killed her, I know this is dumb and you don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable-🍓 anon

Yandere Erasermic punishing reader

I've missed these two a lot😭

Anyways, enjoy! Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Erasermic:

"Hey! I'm home! How are my darlings- Shou? You okay?" Hizashi asked as he entered his home. He was looking forward to spending time with you and the hero, but judging by the pissed off look on Aizawa's face, it didn't seem like happening.

Aizawa was taking deep breaths, his eyebrows furrowed and face contorted into a scowl. God, what did you do now? Hizashi couldn't help but wonder that, as he slid onto the couch next to his husband.

"What did she do now?"Hizashi asked, resting his head on Aizawa's chest as his arms wrapped around him.

Aizawa closed his eyes in annoyance, his own arms engulfing Hizashi as he let out a huff. "She's so ungrateful."

Hizashi lightly chuckled at that, waiting for him to continue. "You know what she did today? She tried to escape. Again. I don't know how she got the code to unlock the main door, but she opened it. She barely made it 2 steps out the door before I pulled her back in. I was taking a shower and she thought she could make a run for it. " Aizawa runs a hand through his hair, but Hizashi suddenly caught it. He looked at his husband's hand, it was turning a nasty shade of purple, and was red around the knuckles, slightly swelled. "Shou, babe... what happened to your hand?"

Aizawa exhales deeply, closing his eyes, trying to control his anger. "Our sweet little darling happened. After I got her back in, I told her to apologise. You know what she did? She spit at me, screamed all kinds of profanities. When I took her down to the basement to chain her up, she tried attacking me." Aizawa clenched his jaw. "I was only going to leave her there for the night. But what she said to me next... Hizashi, I lost it. I punched her." Hizashi's eyes widened. He knew Aizawa wasn't one to lose his temper easily, he knew he wasn't one to resort to violence immediately. So the blonde could only wonder what in the hell did you say to him. "Shouta... what did she say?" He asked softly, almost afraid of the answer himself.

Shouta looked at his husband, trying to calm himself when he told him what you barked out. "She said...she said that she wondered how UA let... let creeps like us around kids." Hizashi's eyes widened. If there's one thing he knew about Aizawa, it was how deeply he cared about his students, treating them like his own children. He prided himself in being their teacher, and so the nerve of you to even say something so disgusting like that, Aizawa was bound to snap.

"I cant believe she'd say something...so horrible. I'm so sorry, Shou." Hizashi whispered, nuzzling Aizawa's neck. The pro hero only grunted. "Whatever. I think it'd be good if she stays down there... for 2 weeks. Yeah that'd be good. And no dinner tonight either. I don't want to put up with anymore of her bullshit." Hizashi only nodded, but then caught another look at his hand and he stood up, pulling Aizawa along with him to the kitchen. Hizashi pulled out a bag of frozen peas and started applying it on his bruise hand to reduce the swelling.

As the two ate dinner, Hizashi couldn't help but worry that if Shouta's hand looked like this from the punch, then what did the receiving end look like. He chose to remain quiet on that matter, not wanting you to ruin the night anymore.

The next morning when Aizawa woke up, he went downstairs to the kitchen to find his husband. Hizashi who was almost done plating up, greeted Aizawa with a kiss. "So, should I take this plate down to our baby bird?" Hizashi asked, already knowing Aizawa didn't want to see you yet. You had really hurt him. Shouta nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. "Be right back." Hizashi pressed a kiss to his lips before going to the basement.

Hizashi opened the door to the basement, walking down the stairs, hoping to see you greet him like the angel they know you are deep down. But when he got down there, he saw you were still asleep on the floor, your limbs still bound to the chains. Your face was turned away from him and Hizashi wasnt sure if he wanted to see the damage that was done to your face.

Hizashi just called for you. “Love, I’ve brought breakfast! Eggs and hashbrowns! Your favourite!” When you didnt respond, he just sighed before placing the plate on the floor. Your chains were long enough to for you to reach it, and while Hizashi wished nothing more than to feed you himself, he knew you needed to be punished.

As he went up the stairs and out of the basement, he couldnt help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on him.

“Do you think she’ll be sorry after her punishment?”Hizashi asked his partner.  Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Unlikely. But she’ll learn to think twice before she says stupid shit like that.” Hizashi chuckled, but secretly hoped that would be the case. He got up from the couch where he and Aizawa sat. “I’ll go get her plate.” They were done eating 2 hours ago, but still waited for you to finish up because they know how stubborn you are.

When Hizashi walked down the stairs, he wasn’t surprised to find your plate untouched. You would always do that the first few days, before finally succumbing to your hunger. Pointless, really. But what disturbed him was how you were still in the same position he had seen you in 2 hours ago. And it was coming to him how still you looked, he couldn't see your body moving a single muscle, he couldn't see if you were breathing. 

Hizashi walked towards you cautiously, waiting for you to jump up and scare the crap out of him. But his breath hitched when he finally saw what had happened to you. 

A big bruise had formed on your cheek, swelling and taking all the shades of the purple, blue and green. But the worst part was seeing the blood and a clear liquid dripping out of your nose slowly, forming a pool around your head.

He turned you on to your back and started shaking your shoulder. “Darling? Wake up, baby. Its me. Baby, wake up.” But your body remained unconscious. He started tapping your cheek, only then noticing you weren’t breathing. All the alarms went off in his head. “SHOUTA! COME DOWN OVER HERE!” 

Shouta rushed to the basement, wondering what stunt you pulled now. But seeing your limp body in Hizashi’s arms, blood coating your cheeks, he knew something terrible had occured. Aizawa ran towards his partners, looking at your bruising cheek. “She’s n-not breathing. She’s not fucking breathing, Shou!” Hizashi sobbed as Aizawa took your wrist in his hand. His blood ran cold when he found no pulse. “What are we gonna do?! She’s dead! Our baby is dead!” Shouta blocked out Hizashi’s voice. They both cant be panicking right now. Aizawa turned to his partner. “Hizashi. Bring her up. I’ll get the car out.” He commanded. “H-hospital? Shou, its too late-” Hizashi cried out but Aizawa gave him a stern look. “Bring her up. Now.” 

They got to the hospital in fairly record time, passing you over to the doctors while Aizawa made up a story of how they found you in an alley. Only after the doctors left them alone did it dawn on Aizawa how serious the situation was. He killed you, didnt he? You would still be alive if he hadnt hit you. How could he ever claim to love you when he hurts you-

Aizawa shook his head, he could wallow up in his guilt later. For now, he needed to comfort his husband and pray that you make it through somehow.

A few hours later, the doctors had given them an update on your condition. You made it, barely. Something had hit your face and damaged some part of your brain, causing there to be a very slow heart beat. But you're all okay now, since they brought you in time.

When they were allowed to finally go in, thats when Aizawa finally broke down. Seeing you unconscious, knowing he almost killed you, it got to him. Hizashi wanted to console Aizawa, but he couldn't bring himself to leave your side. Hizashi pressed soft kisses to your temples, wiping his tears that fell on your cheek, while Aizawa stood to your side. He wanted to hold your hand but he was afraid to hurt you again. As the duo sat by your side, they made a silent promise to never hurt you again, at least not physically.

After that incident, you'll never be left alone. The two are always breathing down your neck, drowning you in love, looking at you with even more fondness; obsession and protectiveness swirling in their eyes, right there with guilt.

Aizawa would never apologise, but that doesn't mean he's not sorry. You would often wake up to him looking at your bruised cheek with worry, caressing it so gently, as if he'd break you. He'll be a lot more demanding with physical affection, always wrapping his arms around you, forcing you onto his lap and tucking your face under his chin as he cards his fingers through your hair.

You didn't think Hizashi could be anymore overbearing, but you were proved wrong. He'd panic if you were out of his sight for more than 5 minutes. Always worrying, paranoia creeping up on him when you're not in the same room as him. And when he would finally find you (mostly in the bathroom), he'd check you all over for injuries, not trusting your assurances.

Punishments aren't violent anymore. They're humiliating. Pulling you in their laps and feeding you by hand, talking about you as if you're not there, making you take baths with them(not showers because they end too quickly), making you sleep with them, naked.

And the couple won't lie, but this form of punishment seems to be far more effective. With how quickly you turn docile, folding in on yourself as if you could hide from them... its cute.

But hey, its better than getting beat, right?

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 123

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 123: The Second Sacrifice

What happened the night before, nobody knew—except for Jian Qianyuan and that unfortunate dead partner of hers.

Lin Qiushi remembered that yesterday, Jian Qianyuan had also been one of the people eschewing the unpleasant taste of lunch. But sat before the same nauseating and flavored dead-fish lunch today, her odd behavior gave Lin Qiushi an unfortunate supposition. Could Jian Qianyuan have been affected by that monster as well…

Jian Qianyuan didn't care at all what the others thought. Once she finished eating, she left the dining room with a satisfied pat of her slightly distended belly. On her way out she seemed to have noticed the shocked looks everyone was sending her, and answered with a cold smile.

"The taste is actually pretty good. If you like, you should all go give it a try," she mumbled to herself.

Nobody answered her, and she shrugged in disinterest before leaving.

Lin Qiushi watched her enter a room. And when the rooms changed, Jian Qianyuan disappeared before the crowd.

The locations of the rooms kept changing; every few minutes, a new room appeared in front of the deck.

Some were lucky—people found their stuff inside the rooms and brought them out. Others not so much, never managing to find their original rooms.

Lin Qiushi, on the other hand, made a new discovery. While they were perusing the hallways, they were fortunate enough to see once more that locked room they'd discovered the day before. Only, something had changed about it. The door to that room now stood wide open, and the chain that had locked it from the inside was scattered in broken pieces all over the ground. It seemed to have been violently broken off.

"I remember this room," Lin Qiushi said. "Room 201." He looked at the door plate, thinking of the room number they'd seen yesterday. "Is there anything inside it now?"

Ruan Nanzhu stood in the doorway staring into the dark interior.

"You don't hear anything inside?" he asked.

"No," Lin Qiushi shook his head after listening for a while. He was sure he could hear nothing moving about.

"Then that thing probably left." Ruan Nanzhu approached and took a step inside, casually turning on a kerosene lamp on the table beside him.

The dim light illuminated what wasn't a terribly large room, and they got a good look at what was inside.

The room was both normal and abnormal. Normal was its furnishings, which were identical to where Lin Qiushi's group slept. Abnormal was the additional things inside the room: a bunch of fish scales.

These scales were scattered throughout the entire room, filling the space with a disgusting fishy stench. Lin Qiushi also noticed that on the floors, there was a sort of liquid—like water, but a bit more viscous—smeared all over. It was discomforting to look at.

And on the walls and furniture all around them, there were marks made by sharp claws, telling them that this indeed was the room that once held that monster prisoner.

Lin Qiushi inspected these claw marks and found them extremely deep; if those claws could do this much to hardwood flooring, then it was easy to surmise that a fragile human body for them wouldn't stand a single blow.

Gu Longming was gagging out of disgust, but Ruan Nanzhu took a napkin from his shirt and collected a few of the scales.

Though at present, they didn't know what the fish scales were for, it was better to be prepared just in case.

Lin Qiushi searched the rest of the room for other clues. Quickly, he found a man's shoe in the corner. It made Lin Qiushi think of the man who'd been eaten yesterday. Did the monster drag its prey back to its room?

As Lin Qiushi was contemplating this, Gu Longming said: "Time's almost up." The moment they came in, he'd started counting down, and there were still around ten seconds before five minutes were up.

"Let's get out of here," Ruan Nanzhu said. "This place doesn't seem to be of any more use."

Lin Qiushi agreed.

Not long after the three left that room, its location changed into another room. Lin Qiushi's expression was a bit downcast.

Ruan Nanzhu asked what was on his mind.

Lin Qiushi: "I think things might be worse than we thought."

"What do you mean?" Gu Longming asked in doubt.

"Is the monster's position truly fixed?" Lin Qiushi asked. "Or can it move around?"

Before he'd seen that room, he thought the monster's position was fixed. But upon seeing that ruined chain, he'd formulated an unfortunate hypothesis: the monster could move, and it could move throughout the entire labyrinth. Though, like the humans, it could not find the exit, all the people lost in the maze were just like food to it.

"Your guess is likely correct." Ruan Nanzhu glanced at his watch. "There are still thirteen people. That's enough to feed him for ten days."

Gu Longming forced out a laugh: "You guys are joking, right?"

Ruan Nanzhu shrugged.

"Only if you like this sort of humor."

At dinner, Lin Qiushi had thought he'd be able to see that bug-covered NPC. But the NPC didn't show. It seemed he only appeared in the dining room at lunch, and had its role refreshed consistently…

Everybody except Jian Qianyuan still ate their dinners listlessly.

When Jian Qianyuan appeared in the dining hall once more, she continued scarfing down the fish placed before her. Her unrestrained way of eating left the crowd with even less of an appetite, and they all dispersed after swallowing down some noodles.

Lin Qiushi's group was the same. Only, before leaving, Lin Qiushi took a closer look at Jian Qianyuan, wanting to see if there were any changes on her body.

To his puzzlement, Jian Qianyuan was still currently a simple human. Beyond suddenly loving fish, there was nothing odd about her.

"I'm really scared to see her become one of those things tomorrow." Gu Longming's current feelings about Jian Qianyuan were complex; he and Lin Qiushi were thinking of the same thing.

Neither Lin Qiushi nor Ruan Nanzhu spoke.

That night, Lin Qiushi wasn't getting much sleep. His mind was filled with thoughts of Jian Qianyuan, the way she was changing, and connections between all the clues.

As for Ruan Nanzhu, he'd taken out the fish scales from his pocket, set them on the table, and was currently scrutinizing them closely.

It wasn't raining tonight, and a clean bright moon hung in the sky, casting a silver glow down onto the ship deck and ocean surface. The sea wind brought with it salt and heat through the window, and the beds beneath them were lightly swaying. Had they not been in a door, the atmosphere here actually seemed a tad like a leisurely vacation.

Lin Qiushi looked out to his side. The scenery outside the window changed every five minutes.

Sometimes he could see the deck, and sometimes the stern. Sometimes it was just a black wall. The two people lying behind him seemed to be asleep already, their breathing going even. But just before Lin Qiushi fell asleep as well, he heard a peculiar sound—something was moving across the floorboards. The thing was heavy, enough to press soft creaks from the wooden planks, and it didn't seem to be wearing shoes. Lin Qiushi could even hear the quiet stick of flesh to wood.

This sound was getting closer, finally coming to a stop near their window.

Lin Qiushi held his breath. Through half-closed eyes he saw a gigantic shadow blocking the light from his window. …And Lin Qiushi smelled a wave of familiar fish rot—he knew exactly what the thing standing backlit before him was.

That giant fish-headed monster they saw last night.

It stood right outside Lin Qiushi's window, its nose twitching like it was in search of a specific scent. Lin Qiushi held his breath and didn't dare move an inch.

By moonlight, Lin Qiushi saw that thing slowly place its hands on their window, and then begin to shake the frame with those web-linked fingers.

The window wasn't strong, crunching loudly with the push. Ruan Nanzhu and Gu Longming too woke instantly from their sleep, and the first thing they saw was the giant silhouette standing outside. They could also hear that low, animalistic roaring.

Lin Qiushi thought at first that Gu Longming, fresh from a dream, would scream at the sight of this, but instead he only shuddered before pressing his voice low: "Fuck me, am I having a nightmare right now? Why is this thing at our door—"

Ruan Nanzhu was also calm, pulling out a dinner knife from his pocket that he'd stolen from the dining room.

"Maybe it discovered how tasty we looked?" he said.

Gu Longming patted at his own face and said in a tone of disbelief: "…do I look tasty?"

Ruan Nanzhu looked at him with sympathy: "I guess some monsters like extreme flavors."

Meanwhile, Lin Qiushi thoroughly applauded the enormous nerves on these two people.

The monster broke a hole in the window with a single shove, all the glass on it shattering and raining onto the floor. Then it started trying to climb in. Upon discovering the window was too small, those lumpy white eyes gave a twist, gaze falling sideways onto the wooden door.

"Fuck," Gu Longming swore. "It's not really trying to get in, is it?!"

"Looks that way." Ruan Nanzhu frowned. "Is death random then? No…No way! There’s something we’ve missed!"

As they spoke, the fishman began slamming into the door, and the already-flimsy wood quickly began to topple under its barrage. Lin Qiushi could even hear the wood beginning to splinter.

"When it rushes in, I'll hold it back while you guys escape through the window." Ruan Nanzhu's voice rang clear and calm still. "Got it, Linlin?"

"No," Lin Qiushi said. "I'm not leaving you here alone. Do not make the same mistake."

He frowned, looking very unhappy.

Ruan Nanzhu fell silent, and then sighed like he was giving up something.

"Alright, as you wish."

He handed Lin Qiushi a dinner knife.

"I'm not leaving either," Gu Longming added beside them, jittery.

Though he looked exasperated, Ruan Nanzhu didn't try to talk them out of it. He looked at his watch and said, "thirty seconds. Just hold out for thirty seconds and keep it outside—"

Lin Qiushi and Gu Longming instantly understood—after thirty seconds, the rooms would change, and once the rooms changed they would be able to leave the room, losing the monster behind them.

But these thirty seconds weren't so easy to obtain, because the fishman had already used those sharp claws of his to tear away half of the planks on the door. It seemed moments away from squeezing that scale-covered body through the crack.

Gu Longming turned around and fetched a table to blockade the door with. Ruan Nanzhu dragged the bed over as well to add to the barricade.

Watching Ruan Nanzhu, however, suddenly reminded Lin Qiushi of something. He remembered that the first thing the fishman did when it got to their window was twitch its nose, sniffing—

"Give me the scales you collected today!" Lin Qiushi yelled.

"What?" Ruan Nanzhu startled.

"The scales that you found inside the monster's room—" Lin Qiushi began to repeat loudly once more.

But luckily, Ruan Nanzhu reacted swiftly. The moment he understood Lin Qiushi's meaning he pulled a small paper pouch from his pockets and tossed it outside through a break in the window.

The scales wrapped up in the paper pouch scattered all over the hallway outside. The fishman, once intent on breaking the door down, paused with it, before going over to where the pouch was and bending down as if to pick up the scales.

Seeing this, Lin Qiushi felt some tension release. But the very next moment, once it discovered that there were only scales in the paper, the fishman let out an infuriated roar. It turned around and lunged again for where they were.

All this moving around, however, was enough to last those long thirty seconds. The fishman lunged for them, and just before it would shatter the door, their room switched position, and the fishman disappeared from in front of them.

Lin Qiushi opened the broken door in a hurry and, after making sure the fishman wasn't outside, switched into another room with Ruan Nanzhu and Gu Longming.

His worry soon became reality, because about two minutes later, that fishman once again found their room. It completely obliterated the door before throwing itself inside.

At that moment, Lin Qiushi's group was hidden in a room not far from that one, watching everything go down from the window.

The endless sounds of destruction floated over. After it was sure that its prey had gotten away, the fishman left, heavily panting. It looked as if it had a new target though—that huge mouth of its was slightly open, revealing the sharp thin teeth all crammed inside and the saliva dripping out of a corner.

The three humans hiding in the room didn't dare to make a sound, not until the fishman had gone. Then, Gu Longming let out a long exhale of relief.

"Fuck me, it was following the smell of the fish?! I really thought we were dead there!"

None of them had thought that the fish would come into such effect here. Had Lin Qiushi not reacted so quickly, the three of them might have suffered a casualty among them.

Though the fishman was gone, Ruan Nanzhu's expression had not relaxed. His solemn eyes seemed to make Gu Longming uneasy, and Gu Longming asked, "what is it? Zhu Meng?"

"I think Jian Qianyuan is about to die," Ruan Nanzhu said.

Just as Gu Longming was about to ask why, he remembered the odd developments around Jian Qianyuan during the day. She seemed to have eaten a lot of fish, enough that when she left the dining room, they could all smell that hefty rotten scent on her. If even they could smell the scent, then undoubtedly that monster could easily sniff her out too.

Sure enough, not long after the fishman left, Lin Qiushi's sharp hearing caught a woman's scream. The scream sounded quite far from then, and Lin Qiushi could only vaguely hear it. As for Gu Longming and Ruan Nanzhu, they couldn't hear it at all.

The screaming continued, accompanied by sobbing and wailing, and in the end, it petered off, leaving only hair-raising bellows and sounds of chewing.

Those sounds came from the deck. Lin Qiushi didn't want to know at all what they would find up there the next day.

Of course it would be yet another scooped-clean body, with all its innards gone, leaving only an empty skeletal frame.

It seemed that Ruan Nanzhu could tell Lin Qiushi was having a hard time sleeping. He sat down at the side of Lin Qiushi's bed and lied down with Lin Qiushi, tucking his chin against the top of Lin Qiushi's head. He kissed the strands of hair gently.

The warmth of a body against his back gave Lin Qiushi's frozen voice box a little bit of comfort, but that terrifying sound still seemed to be echoing in between Lin Qiushi's ears. He felt like he could still hear Jian Qianyuan's wailing…

"She's dead," Lin Qiushi said.

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Go to sleep. This is normal."

"Maybe I could've figured out a way to save her," Lin Qiushi sighed.

"But you had to save yourself first." Ruan Nanzhu's fingers traversed paths through Lin Qiushi's hair. "We're still short a long sword to kill it with."

In the myth, the weapon that Theseus used to kill the Minotaur was a long sword. But they hadn't seen any weapon on the ship  that could damage the fishman—dinner knives were surely a no-go.

"We found the string," Lin Qiushi said, "and we also found the aperitif." When Jian Qianyuan died, he understood what aperitif actually meant.

Ruan Nanzhu kissed the tip of Lin Qiushi's ear.

"Sleep already. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Lin Qiushi made a noise of agreement and closed his eyes.

He tried, but he didn't actually manage to sleep so well, only waited blearily until morning.

The weather wasn't good today. That thick cloud layer once again enveloped the entire sky, dim enough to scare people with.

Lin Qiushi got up early and went out onto the deck with Ruan Nanzhu and Gu Longming. None of them were surprised by the additional corpse there. Though its face was no longer discernible, the clothes told them that it was indeed Jian Qianyuan.

Her stomach had been torn open, and all the fish she'd eaten the day before was nowhere to be seen. Also gone were all her innards.

Shen Juexin, who'd already been seasick, vomited once more. Vomiting with him were a few of the weaker girls with a lower threshold of tolerance.

Lin Qiushi also spotted the girl who'd given him a heads up the other day, Xiao Mo. The erratic vibe of a newcomer had faded for her, and her expression was a lot number now, like she was already able to accept the horrifying scene before her.

Two days had passed. Jian Qianyuan was the second sacrifice to be eaten.

The group quickly took care of Jian Qianyuan's body, if "taking care" meant tossing it into the ocean and watching the fish take apart what was left of her.

"I saw that monster yesterday too." The number of people who'd seen the monster had increased, and someone was tremulously describing what happened the night before. "It passed by my door and walked to Jian Qianyuan's room. It split the door open and dragged Jian Qianyuan out…"

"It was too scary," that person said. "I couldn't help her. I'm no match for that monster."

Nobody could defeat a two-meter-tall monster. If they had some firearms, maybe they'd be able to put up a fight, but under these circumstances with only dinner knives at their disposal, nobody wanted to put their lives on the line.

Lin Qiushi was a bit tired. He found a place to sit down in the dining room and pushed the peas in his plate around.

The NPC who gave them food had also appeared, and he looked exactly the same as he did the first day Lin Qiushi saw him. Even his expression was unchanged.

Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu exchanged a look. Then Ruan Nanzhu got up first, walking toward that NPC.

"Hello sir," Ruan Nanzhu greeted him.

The NPC didn't speak, just stared coldly at Ruan Nanzhu. It was like he was a robot, and what to do when greeted by someone wasn't programmed into his system at all.

"Hello sir," Ruan Nanzhu said to him a second time.

The man still didn't respond.

With a tilt of his head, Ruan Nanzhu pushed the plate of food in front of them right to the ground. The fish inside the plates scattered all over, breaking into pieces.

"What are you doing?" the man finally spoke, sounding quite unhappy.

"I just wanted to ask," Ruan Nanzhu said, "when you're making the food, do you always bring so many insects along with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

A casual swipe got Ruan Nanzhu one of the human-faced insects buzzing in circles around the man.

"You don't?"

Seeing this, the man set down the ladle for food preparation in his hand and made to leave. But Ruan Nanzhu caught him by a shoulder.

"And where are you going?"

The man began to shake violently.

Watching from afar, Lin Qiushi first thought the man was afraid of maybe angry, but very quickly he discovered that it was neither—the man was melting.

His body was rapidly shrinking, turning from head to toe into a mass of black. This lump dispersed in the dining room with a buzz—it was a hoard of flying insects.

Everybody in the dining room was stunned by this scene, before smacking at them like crazy.

But the insects came and went quickly, disappearing from the dining room just like that. And the NPC who had been right in front of them was now only a set of empty clothing.

"Motherfucker." Gu Longming hadn't seen this coming at all, and said blankly: "This brother was a mosquito demon?"

Lin Qiushi: "…" He didn't know what to say either.

Ruan Nanzhu scratched his head and peeked at Lin Qiushi. "Does this mean there's nobody to feed us fish from now on?"

Lin Qiushi: "…seems that way."

Ruan Nanzhu lifted his palms with an innocent expression. Everybody else in the dining room however—their expressions grew complicated. Who knew what came to mind.

Ruan Nanzhu: "That's a bit of a shame, isn't it."

The group: "…" Not a shame at all, thank you.

Translator’s Note

RNZ speaks to the NPC in the polite register of “you,” lmfao

[Ch. 122] | [Ch. 124]

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 18

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Book: TRR AU

Warnings: Language, crude talk, and the usual bad writing.

I had planned from the beginning to end this series after the next chapter and an epilogue, but call me crazy, I love it too much. So while this part of the story will end, I still plan to update with one-shots or stories from time to time. If you’re just done with it, let me know.

Also, this chapter felt a little off to me, so I apologize if it's terrible, but I think I ended on a good note.

Thanks @burnsoslow for prereading.and usage of your girl, who finally got to make her debut.

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

"Damn it, Riley! Pick up!" Liam grumbled as he lowered the cell phone from his ear and tossed it in the seat beside him. The royal jet had been in the air for a little over four hours already, and he'd grown frustrated at getting her voice mail each time. Surely, she was home by now. 

Even though it was the middle of the night in Las Vegas, it was worth interrupting her. He had tried unsuccessfully to contact Riley since he packed his bags earlier and hastily headed for the airstrip. By this point, there must have been a dozen or so messages left on her phone without so much as a hint she'd gotten them. 

While time wasn't an issue -- he'd get to Las Vegas one way or the other -- it was the desperation to hear from his new wife and tell her he knew precisely why she left. 

And that he loved her.

Tilting his head back against the headrest, he swiveled side-to-side in his luxury chair while tightly clutching his freshly poured scotch. The security footage he watched earlier that morning replayed in his mind again. There were no doubts about what it showed: Madeleine confronted Riley outside their quarters just minutes after leaving the ball. Without sound, however, no one could ascertain specifically what was said among the two women. It was clear though,  Riley was not a willing participant in that conversation. When they saw the disk held up in the Countess' hands, and the look of sheer horror on his pussycat's face, that told Liam all he needed to know. This was a blackmail situation, plain and simple, that included assault; those flowers he found scattered on the ground when he returned to his quarters last night all made sense now. This act was deliberate and treasonous, and Liam would ensure his ex-fiancee paid handsomely for it. 

After they viewed the footage several more times, the Royal Guard was immediately summoned to Krona to find Madeleine and take her into custody. Liam knew it was a long shot whether his guards could pull that sting off, but he was working with what he had at the moment.

Despite whatever happened next, there was one thing the King was confident of: He was prepared to give up his entire Kingdom to get his girl back. Returning to Cordonia without her was not an option.

Shaking his tumbler of partially melted ice cubes, Liam leaned forward and steadily poured another bottle of scotch into his glass. As soon as he sat back and raised the fresh beverage to his lips, he was startled by the ringing of his cell phone. In a rush to answer, he hastily set the drink aside and snatched his phone up from where he tossed it earlier. 

"Hello! Love?" He answered, hopeful it was her.

"Hey, little brother. Love you too ... Say, do you know if the palace has a Spanish tickler or a breast ripper? Asking for a friend."

Liam furrowed his brows in confusion before rising from his seat, plopping a knee down on its cushioned bottom, and glancing to the back of the plane. "Leo? Why are you calling me? We're on the same damn plane. I'm looking right at you."

"Nevermind that. Listen, I figured out a way to take care of Madeleine once and for all. Behold ..." Leo held up a leather-bound book and waved it over his head while Liam squinted from the front of the plane to get a better look. "... The King Constantine Guide To Fucking Torture In The 21st Century; Father gave it to me after my investiture ceremony. The way I see it, there really is no other option here than to tie her to a tree in front of the palace, invite the public to watch for a modest fee, and do some cool shit with iron rods and spikes. I got dibs on the knee-splitter, though."

"Leo ..." Liam began to warn his brother how ridiculous that plan was before stopping himself and staring off into the distance for a moment in thought. "Wait ... is there anything about flaying in that book?"

"Hell yeah there is! And if you're interested in thumbscrews, my buddy, Pete, has a trunk full of them. He uses them for ass play, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind letting us borrow them to split Maddie's thumbs in half." Leo let out a maniacal laugh.

Liam chuckled, despite the peculiarity of the conversation. "I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm not interested -- to the contrary, actually. And while I appreciate your help in seeing that Madeleine is brought to justice, I think we better stick to more lawful means."

"Boo, you whore!" The line went dead with a click. 

Liam held the phone away from his ear, watching Leo sink down into his chair in a huff. "Really?" He called back in agitation. Met with the silent treatment and a middle finger from his disgruntled brother, Liam rolled his eyes, then slumped back down into his seat. Maybe he'd try to call Riley again.

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

The phone on Riley's nightstand buzzed again. She knew it was another call from Liam, and while she felt remorseful for ignoring all of his calls and texts, she couldn't bring herself to look at or answer them quite yet. The sooner all ties between them were broken, she believed, the quicker he could forget all about her and the mess she made of everything. 

But even her willpower was slipping. Riley slid her hand out from under the pillow and reached over to pick up her phone. Holding it to her chest, she contemplated for a second just reading his texts and returning his calls, but Madeleine had warned to end all contact with him. Obviously, she was curious about what he had to say, but it was too risky. I'm so sorry, Liam. 

Hitting the power button on her cell, the light on the device faded to black before she tossed it in the nightstand drawer.

Early the next morning, Riley's eyes flickered open to the sound of a banging on her front door, followed by the incessant ringing of her doorbell. Feeling exhausted from a lack of sleep, mainly because of crying and unable to think about anything other than how she hurt Liam, Riley decided to ignore it. She just wanted to be left alone, and eventually, they'd give up and leave, right?

Except they didn't.

Annoyed, she let out a sigh and then eased herself up out of bed; the pain in her back was still a problem. Tossing a robe over her body, she slowly made her way down the stairs of her townhome -- each step excruciating -- until she finally made it to the door.

Twisting the lock, she opened the entry door, before letting out a sudden gasp at the tearful person standing on the other side. 

"Oh my God, Riley! Y-You're alive! You're really alive!"

"Alyssa?" Riley's best friend from New York pulled her into a relieved hug, nearly sobbing at that point. "What're you doing here?"

"I thought something terrible happened to you, but now that I can see you're still among the living ..." she sniffled before pulling back and narrowing her blazing blue eyes at her friend. "Where have you been? I've been trying to get ahold of you ever since you texted me that you were boarding a plane in Cordonia, and that something serious happened involving Tyler. You promised me you'd call as soon as you landed--"

"I know. I'm so sorry. It was late ..."

 " -- and you didn't. Then I worried, even more, when you didn't answer any of my calls back. I had to book the first red-eye flight here to make sure you were all right." Finished with her rant, a huffing Alyssa's jaw immediately clenched. "Now, what did that shithead ex of yours do? I'll kill him if he hurt you, Ri. I might be small, but I'm scrappy like an alleycat. You know I'll claw his eyes out."

Riley let out a light chuckle; Alyssa was always overprotective of her and had a clever way with words, but quickly, that chuckle faded into a teary frown. "Oh, Lyss," she whimpered as her face fell into her hands.

Alyssa quickly wrapped her arms around Riley and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Aww, Riley. Sweetie, it's going to be okay," she soothed. 

Stepping inside, Alyssa kicked the door shut and led them both over to the sofa. Sensing Riley was in pain -- and not just emotional -- she helped lower her troubled best friend onto the couch. "I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened."

The best friends had remained in contact over the last several weeks. It was Alyssa's frantic morning phone call over a month ago that alerted Riley to the news coverage of her impromptu marriage to Liam, having saw it on the news. 

And while Alyssa was aware of everything about Cordonia and Liam, and how Riley fit into all that from their prior conversations, she listened intently while it was revealed to her the details of the incident with Madeleine and the video her ex-husband gave to the Countess.  

Grabbing a tissue from the end table, Alyssa handed it to Riley. "So this cow confronted you with that disgusting video and basically blackmailed you into leaving, or she would release it to the press?" Riley nodded somberly.."Ugh, I want this treasonous bitch thrown in the dungeon, subjected to live-streamed daily anal fistings with giant Hulk gloves ... And Tyler, I want to break every bone in his rotten body, one at a time. And I want to leave him there afterwards, dripping just enough water on his lips, so he doesn't die of dehydration, screaming in agony for the weeks it will take to die of starvation."

 Riley's face scrunched up. "God, Alyssa."

Alyssa shrugged. "What? I don't care; it's what they deserve for hurting you. Did you at least tell Liam what happened?"

This time, Riley shook her head. "No. Madeleine warned me if I told him, she would release the video, and then the council would likely force him to step down. I won't allow him to lose everything for someone like me." 

Irritated, Alyssa pressed a palm to her forehead. "Why are you like this?"

"Like, what?" Riley asked in exasperation.

"That whole, 'someone like me,' part. He wanted to stay married to you. He made you the queen of his country. You've said he couldn't keep his goddamn hands off you for two seconds. And more importantly, you told me you have never felt more loved in your life, than you do when you're with him. The fact that you still question your worthiness to him blows my mind." 

Alyssa reached for Riley's shaky hand, able to tell by the tears sliding down her cheeks and the soft whimpers that she'd touched on something. "You're his pussycat, Riley. Liam already lost everything when you left him. Tell me you know that."

Riley wiped at her face., her voice stifled, "I just wanted to protect him."

"I know." Alyssa smiled softly. "But you needed to give him the chance to decide what he wanted. You made it for him because you know he'd choose you, regardless if he lost everything else; that's how much he loves you, Ri. You can't protect someone who loves you by hurting them. Besides, he's the King; he can simply execute the council if he wants to -- Liam’s not going anywhere."

"You just HAD to add that last part in, didn't you?" Riley laughed, feeling a sense of ease as her mood lightened. It felt good to talk to someone who could help her make sense of everything and realize she hadn’t exactly made the best call by leaving and not telling Liam what happened. "But what do I do about this video? What if Madeleine releases it to the public?"

"Yeah, a video of a married woman having sex with her husband -- Oh, the shame!" she retorted. "Look, you'll be famous on Pornhub for a few weeks, and it'll fizzle out. I know that doesn't make it all better, but you have a lot of people who love you ... we'll be there for you if that happens. Besides, it's Gonzo Dick; I doubt anyone will wanna watch anyway."

Riley snorted out at the nickname she gave her ex-husband. "Stop making me laugh." 

Alyssa cracked a grin. "Nah. If I can make you laugh at that asshole's expense and his crooked dick, then it's worth it."

"Well,” she breathed, “ I suppose I should get dressed and call Liam. Tell him what happened, and hopefully, he'll … forgive .." her voice trailed off at tasting an increasing collection of bile in her throat and a familiar rumble in her stomach. 

“What’s wrong?”

Riley frowned. "Damn it, why do I keep getting sick?"  

After rushing to the bathroom with Alyssa's help, Riley came out moments later, flushed and perspiring. Alyssa, who waited outside the door to make sure she was all right, eyed her friend with grave concern. "Ri, are you sure you don't have a concussion? You said that Madeleine caused you to fall, and you complained you’ve been getting sick a lot. Is there any chance you hit your head too?"

Riley considered for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't think so. I mean, it all happened so fast I don't really remember, but my head doesn't hurt."

"OH NO! You have memory loss too, on top of the vomiting and a hurt back? Riley, you need to go to the hospital now. This is serious."

"Alyssa, I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital," Riley dismissed and hobbled past her friend toward the kitchen. "You always worry too much."

Alyssa followed behind her, brows bumped together in a scowl. "Because you're a stubborn ass who never listens, that's why. You need to get checked out," she insisted. Riley paid no attention as made her way to the fridge; that reaction only served to piss Alyssa off. "You can ignore me all you want, but you know as well as I do, I'll just keep annoying the hell out of you until you do it … I'll sing every Dave Matthews song ever written -- On repeat." 

Riley shut the fridge door and turned at the threat, giving her a dismayed glare. "You wouldn't." 

Alyssa tilted her chin. "You know damn well I would. I have... so much to say, so much to say, so much --"

"Please stop! I'm going."

---------

At Valley Hospital and Medical Center, Drake sat slumped down in the waiting room of the E.R;  a thawed ice pack covered his crotch. His increasingly irritated self caught sight of a nurse escorting yet another patient back for examination. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Tired of waiting, he cast the ice pack aside and marched straddle-legged to the triage desk where a beefy nurse with a scowl sat filing her nails. "How much longer is this gonna take?" He demanded bitterly.

The nurse remained focused on her nails and answered in a careless fashion. "You'll get called back when it's your turn, Mr. Walker."

"My turn? MY TURN? I've been here for 15 fucking hours waiting for my turn. I've watched one person after the next walk right in, get treated, and leave. Whose ass do I actually have to lick to get treatment around here?"

Unimpressed with his theatrics, she folded her arms on the desk and looked up at Drake with a glower. "Look. You got kicked in the wang by a hooker. Shit happens. It's not the end of the world. Go home, have a beer, and a good laugh. You'll live." She resumed her filing.

Drake ran both hands through his rumpled hair, letting out a sardonic laugh. "I cannot fucking believe you just said that to me. I suffer trauma on my transplanted dick, and the greatest healthcare minds in the world tell me to have a beer and laugh about it?" his voice shrieked.

The nurse blew on her nails. "That's what I said."

That snarky remark sent him even further over the edge. A red-faced Drake pounded two white-knuckled fists on the desk and leaned down into her space. "Now you listen here, lady. I demand to be seen right now, or so help me, I'll tear this whole goddamn place apart brick-by-fucking-brick! Do you understand me?"

Having none of that, the nurse, who was several inches taller than a startled Drake expected, sprung for her chair and loomed over him menacingly. Drake flinched when she rammed the nail file at him and threatened, "Now, you listen.You can either sit your ass down, or I will sit you down. Do you understand me?"

He didn't understand. He would never understand.

A security guard who heard the commotion casually approached the agitated pair and placed a firm hold on Drake's elbow. "Do we have a problem here, Betty Lou?"

She shook her head, sizing Drake up. "No, just some whiny-ass Karen griping about his dick."

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

Several moments later, Alyssa and Riley exited an Uber and wandered into the waiting area, making their way up to the triage line -- or what they thought was a line. It was actually Drake still standing there, continuing to protest his case to anyone who would listen and demanding to speak to someone in charge.

While Riley dug through her purse to retrieve her health insurance card, Alyssa couldn't help but be taken in by the fiery debacle taking place in front of them. She inched a little closer, unable to help herself; it was good drama and sucked her right in. 

Catching a glimpse of Drake’s sour face, she cocked her head introspectively; there was something oddly familiar about the man in the denim shirt going off. Alyssa tapped her chin. Where have I seen him before?  

Before long, the realization set in, and her eyes snapped wide open. She nudged Riley with an elbow and leaned over, whispering, "Hey, isn't that the guy from the news who had the penis transplant? It looks just like him."

Knowing precisely who that was by the description, Riley popped her head up to look. She hadn't known Drake well, only that he was Liam's best friend, and after having spent time together on the plane ride to Cordonia with him, that her maid-of-honor had given him several venereal diseases. "Drake?" she called out.

While Alyssa zoned in on his groin, curious as to what was in there, Drake broke away from the dispute and turned his focus toward the familiar-sounding voice. She was a connection to home and a long-sought-after friendly face. "Riley? Liam's insta-bride, Riley?" 

She let out a light chuckle and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that's how you would know me ... What are you doing at the hospital? Is your body rejecting the ..." Her embarrassed gaze dropped lower with a gulp. " ... thing?"

"No!" he barked. "I just got attacked by that ... uh, someone."

"You got attacked?" Shocked, Riley placed a hand over her chest. "Why would someone attack you? Are you okay?"

Feeling incensed by the memory, Drake shook his head and muttered. "It's a long story ... What about you? What are you doing here? Thought you were in Cordonia with Liam?"

She inhaled a deep breath through her nostrils and forced a smile. "It's a long story too."

Drake peeked over his shoulder at Nurse Ratchet, giving him a gimlet-eyed stare from behind her computer screen. He groused and turned to face Riley again. "I've got time."

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

Nearly 12 hours after takeoff, the royal jet touched down in sunny Las Vegas, an hour ahead of schedule. Liam and Leo stepped off the plane and strolled across the tarmac to the awaiting vehicle, where a smiling man held the rear passenger door open.

"Bastien," Liam greeted as he approached. "Good to see you again."

"Your Majesty." He bowed. "Likewise ... I have the rental car you requested, and the Queen's address is already programmed into the GPS. Should take no more than 30 minutes to get there."

"Perfect,” he replied, clapping Bastien’s shoulder.“Thanks for having everything ready to go."

Liam had contacted the head guard -- who was still jailed for non-support -- and gained him a day-long pass to provide security detail. Bastien was also to stay in contact with his guards to oversee the capture and detainment of Madeleine.

Bastien took their bags, and the brothers hopped into the back of the Escalade. Once they pulled away from the airport, the directions led the group west. The head guard glanced briefly in the rearview mirror as he drove on. “I want to thank you for giving me a second chance. It’s nice to be out of that place, even if just for the day.”

Liam smiled back. “Not a problem, good man. I can’t think of anyone else I trust more for the job than you … though I’m not sure why. Anyway, do you have any updates on the Madeleine situation?”

“Yes, sir. I contacted my colleagues again just before you arrived. Countess Madeleine was taken by surprise when our guards arrived at her family estate in Krona. Once in custody, she was immediately transported to Valtoria for detention, exactly as you requested.”

"That's terrific news ... Wait ...Did you say, Valtoria?" Liam asked with puzzlement in his tone. 

"Yes, sir. As you requested." 

"Man, please tell me Mads tried to fight them off, and they had to use the taser on her," Leo insisted as he held his crossed fingers in the air. "A billy club ... a rubber hose ... something."

"There may have been a brief verbal exchange and some threats, but the Countess promised if they permitted access to her computer to send a quick email, she would go with them peacefully and without further protest. There didn't seem to be any harm in doing so, and she followed through with her word. Sorry to break it to you, Prince Leo, but no tasers were harmed in her capture."

"Well, fiddle shit." Leo glanced over at his brother --who was still scratching his head -- in disappointment. "If only I'd been able to get that shock collar on her while I was engaged to her, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. She just squirmed too much. I’m sorry I let you down, little brother."

"It's fine, Leo; it's not the first time,”  Liam said dryly before turning his head away from Leo to face the front again. "Can we get back to Madeleine being taken to Valtoria? I never requested that. An accused of the Crown is always placed in the palace dungeon. There aren't even cells in Valtoria to hold her in. What am I missing here?"

Approaching a stoplight, Bastien lightly pressed the brakes, then met Liam’s gaze in the mirror. “The orders I was given to pass along to the guards from you earlier were clear in your text: Once she’s taken into custody, she is to be sent to Valtoria and placed in the cage with the monkey until further notice. That’s what they --”

“Mongo! They put her in the cage with Mongo?” Liam exploded before pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing there was no point in asking how that message got mixed up. “Goddamn it, Leo! Why are you, you, sometimes?” He ran a swift hand down his face and turned to glare at his brother. “Do you realize they consider that cruel and unusual punishment? Did you ever stop to consider how much shit I'm going to hear over this if this gets out?" He let out a sharp breath and threw his hands in the air."How? How did you do it?"

"It's simple pimple, Liam. When you went to the bathroom, I grabbed your phone," he replied bluntly with a shrug. "And according to page 24 of Father's torture book: It's not considered cruel and unusual punishment, as long as she has food, water, and clean shelter -- which she does. Or ... if she's housed with a member of the royal family -- which she is. Mongo is the heir to the throne, so we've got that covered too. So just relax, little bro; Leo’s got it all taken care of for you."

Liam dropped his chin to his chest, then let out a weary breath. “Bastien, call the guards and have them move her to the palace at once.” 

As Bastien placed the call, Liam shifted in his seat so that he was staring out the window. He put a palm over his mouth to conceal the curved lips that formed a devilish grin, trying to contain the unbearable urge to bust out laughing. Oh, Maddie ... I hope you and Mongo had one hell of a time together.

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

Back at the hospital, Riley situated herself on the gurney while a nurse prepared to check her vitals and ask general health questions. 

In the next bay over, separated by a thin sliding curtain, Drake was finally attended to after Riley reluctantly, but willfully, played up her celebrity status. Once she threatened to have the hospital shut down -- which she doubted was even possible on her end -- the proverbial red carpet was rolled out for both of them; she was still a queen, afterall. 

Steps were then taken to ensure they both received the royal treatment, so to speak. That wasn’t typically how Riley preferred to handle situations; she hated big fusses over her. But in the end, she did help one of Liam’s oldest friends finally get the medical attention he needed, so it was worth trying. 

The blood pressure cuff on Riley’s arm squeezed tighter just as one of the doctors stepped inside and slid the curtain all the way closed. His cheerful greeting drew Riley's fixed gaze away from the changing numbers on the monitor beside her bed, and she smiled up at him.

The doctor was tall and thin, with thick spectacles perched near the tip of his nose. He gave a brief nod to Alyssa, who was sitting in a chair at Riley’s bedside, rubbing her shoulder. Scanning the patient chart, he spoke without looking up, "Queen Riley, it says here you suffered a fall?"

"I'm just Riley,  please," she requested.

The doctor looked up from the paperwork and nodded with an understanding smile. "Of course." 

After the initial exam concluded, Alyssa remained behind after the doctor ordered x-rays and transport had wheeled Riley down to radiology. 

Bouncing her crossed leg as she scrolled through her phone, Alyssa tried to bide her time until Riley returned. An air conditioning vent overhead that she didn’t realize drowned out so much noise around her, suddenly flipped off. Able to catch the conversation on the other side of the curtain better, she listened with a broken heart as Drake reluctantly described to an attending, the worst days of his life. Alyssa shuddered as he recalled the moment his penis fell off, rolled across the bed, and dropped onto Ethan Ramsey’s leather shoe during an exam. “That poor man. I just want to hug him,” she muttered.

Her little ears perked when the doctor mentioned he was “going to have a look at it.” In her curious mind, there were no doubts that she was too. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take a peek at the first transplant of its kind; no way was she going to miss out on that. 

Alyssa slid to the edge of her seat and raised her hand to up to the curtain, easing a tiny portion of it aside. Her blue eyes crinkled with frustration at a nurse who was blocking her view. “Move your ass,” she whispered to herself.

Unable to get a good view, she gave up that spot and eyed the other opening in the curtain at the far end of the room. Sliding off her chair to a crouching position on the floor, Alyssa crab-walked as fast as she could without falling off balance until she made it to the other side. Crooking a stealthy finger along the seam of the curtain, she hoped and prayed Drake’s genital exam wasn’t through yet. What her eyes saw on that gurney when she pulled the fabric aside caused her heart to jolt out of her chest. 

Alyssa cupped a hand over her gaping mouth before stepping back and letting the curtain fall loosely shut again.  Dropping her hand limply at her side, staring blankly at nothing, she mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”

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

Down in the radiology department, Riley sat patiently in her wheelchair, waiting for the tech to return to take the x-rays. Enjoying the lighter feeling of having an empty bladder again, she let out a contented sigh; she was about to bust earlier. That mandatory urine sample couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. 

Left alone to ruminate in her thoughts, Riley wondered about those phone calls she ignored last night from Liam. The regret she felt over her actions the last 26 hours continued to mount up. And it took a heart-to-heart with her best friend to really put things into perspective. Her decisions weren’t the best course to take, even if they were done with the most loving of intentions. 

There was a lot to make up to Liam, and she only hoped that it wasn’t too late. Could he even forgive her for all of it?

She wished he was there with her right now. If she knew him the way she thought she did, he’d be standing around telling inappropriate jokes to make her laugh or embarrass her with his silly antics. It was like Liam could be two different people sometimes: Kingly and stoic around everyone else, but the second it was just him alone with her, he was such a big kid. Somehow, she could bring out his true self; the one where he felt comfortable enough to be silly and playful. And as much as she tried to play them off, those little pet names he gave her -- she chuckled to herself as they popped into her head -- were funny. What the hell even was a knucklehead mcspazzatron? 

“Miss Brooks” Riley shook herself of her thoughts as the x-ray tech returned and made her way over. “I apologize that took so long.”

Riley smiled up at her. “No need to apologize… Are you ready for me now?”

“Not exactly,” she teased in such a cheery tone, Riley slightly lowered her eyelids, holding her gaze. “You most likely won’t be getting x-rays today, sweetie.” She held a fisted hand out to Riley and opened her palm to reveal the small object inside. “You’re pregnant.”

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

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[notquitetwilight]

THE CULLANOS: A TASTE OF BOSTON, PART ONE

The Cullanos head to Boston to take care of some business.

“Well?” Carlisle Cullano asked his wife from across the table. “How does Boston pizza compare to Jersey pizza?”

“It doesn’t,” Esme answered her husband automatically. “Especially not ours.”

“Typical Jersey girl,” he smirked. He looked to their daughter beside her. “Rosie?”

Rosalie wrinkled her nose, looking up at him from the slice she was chewing on. “It’s too thick. I don’t like it. But then again, Jersey pizza doesn’t compare to New York pizza, either.”

Esme gave a deep sigh and threw her daughter a look. “Really?”

“What? You know I’ll always be a Manhattanite.”

“You were born in Jersey City Med,” Esme pointedly reminded her.

“Where I was abandoned,” Rose said slowly. “…To be raised in Manhattan.”

“You weren’t abandoned at the hospital,” Carlisle countered.

“She wasn’t abandoned at all!” Esme hissed before he could continue. “How many times do we have to go through this?”

“I know, I know, you were just kids, younger than I am now,” Rose waved the hand that wasn’t holding a pizza slice dismissively. “I’m over it. But I don’t know why you always get mad at me for saying I’m a New Yorker when you’re the ones who chose not to raise me in Jersey. Well, chose not to raise me at all.”

A tense silence fell over them. Rose lowered her eyes to the table of their booth as she continued chewing. Esme glowered out the window, her jaw clenched. Carlisle nudged his foot against her leg in an attempt to comfort her, but she ignored him.

It was a little over a year since the couple had gotten their daughter back. Though she had left her adoptive family and seemed to have settled into their lifestyle, the topic of their lost time together still occasionally raised its head.

The couple had had her at the tender age of 17, unbeknownst to their families. Both of them decided they were too young, too broke and already too involved in the mafia game to raise her themselves. She was adopted by the Hales, a wealthy couple of lawyers who raised her in a Manhattan townhouse and gave her the finest private education New York City had to offer. Carlisle and Esme secretly watched her grow from park benches and the back of school auditoriums. They never interacted with her or allowed her to see them, but watching her grow up safe and happy from a distance filled the void that giving her up had left.

Well, it did, until it didn’t. A year and a half ago, right before the couple finally married, Esme’s sister gave birth to her first child. The family rejoiced in the arrival of the baby boy, with Esme’s mother proudly parading her “first grandchild” around. “Aren’t you jealous, Esme?” Mrs. Platt had asked at the wedding. “You hate it when others have something you don’t.”

“No, mom, I don’t get jealous,” came her answer. Carlisle stifled a laugh at that. The death certificate of his previous wife proved otherwise.

“I always thought you’d be the one to give me my first,” Mrs. Platt continued, causing her daughter to bristle. “But your little sister has beaten you to it.”

Esme’s knuckles went white around the champaign glass she held. “She’s just drunk, baby,” Carlisle muttered in her ear. “Fuggedaboutit.”

But it didn’t matter. Esme’s moods worsened in the weeks that followed as she grieved 17 years’ worth of parenting the daughter they tried to do right by. She stopped parking outside the Hales’ Upper East Side building in hopes of catching a glimpse of the girl, or regularly checking her social media pages for updates on how she was doing. Carlisle knew it had become too difficult for her, particularly when her sister got to be a mother so openly. Mrs. Platt was right; Esme hated going without what others had. And Carlisle could never let her go without.

So one day, he pulled his yellow Alfa Romeo into the garage of the couple’s home and paged Esme to meet him there. “Hey doll,” he greeted her from against the bonnet as she entered and closed the door behind her. “I gotcha somethin’.”

She looked around in confusion. Normally when he asked her to come to the garage it meant he had bought her a new car. “What?” She wondered, but before her husband could respond, she was answered by a chorus of thumping and muffled screaming from the trunk.

“Who’s in there?” Esme asked, bored. Visitors to their home arriving by car trunk wasn’t exactly new. He grinned at her smugly as the thumping continued. “What?” She said again, but he could tell he had piqued her interest. He sauntered over to the trunk and opened it, a flurry of blond immediately lunging at him from inside. Esme instinctively reacted with a raised gun, but as Carlisle restrained the girl, her eyes widened and she lowered her weapon. “Is that…?”

He beamed at her as Rosalie struggled in his arms. Her wrists and ankles were tied, but still she writhed around. Her eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and fear, and duct tape covered her mouth. “Take that thing off of her,” Esme commanded. “I wanna proper look.”

“Hold still or it’ll hurt,” Carlisle told the girl. She stopped wriggling long enough that he could gently remove the tape without ripping her skin. She immediately attempted to bite his hand, but he was too fast. Then came an ear-piercing screech that caused both adults to wince, but Esme was smiling.

“You wait,” Rosalie said once she was finished screaming, her voice hoarse. “Just you wait. If it’s money you want, good luck. You might as well kill me now.”

“She looks just like you,” Esme said as if she hadn’t heard her, though she didn’t take her eyes off the girl. “We knew it already, but up close, it’s crazy. I didn’t get a look-in.”

Rosalie’s face contorted to an expression of both confusion and disgust. “What the fuck…?”

Carlisle laughed at her exaggerated expressiveness; the narrowed eyes, the over-the-top frown, the grimace that caused her cheeks to apple. He had seen Esme pull that face a million times before. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he told her as they both went back to staring at Rosalie — who was attempting to naw at the rope around her wrists — with the kind of fascination people usually reserved for newborn babies.

“Carl, untie her,” Esme instructed. He gave her a hard look, thinking it was a terrible idea. She arched an eyebrow in response, and he knew better than to argue with her.

“Wait ‘til my father hears about this,” Rose grumbled as he began cutting through the thick rope. That amused him, and he couldn’t help but grin. “What’s so funny?” She demanded.

He shook his head. “Nothin’,” he tried, but he heard Esme giggle and he started laughing again.

Rosalie’s face flushed angrily as she looked wildly from her almost-free hands to Esme and then to Carlisle. “I said, what’s. So. Funny?” She said it slowly and punctuated, as if she thought he was stupid. Esme’s laugh was turning into the loud cackle she gave when she was particularly thrilled. He sniffed with a smile and shook his head again.

Rosalie was then red-faced, her eyes flashing with rage. “What the fuck is so funny, you piece of shit?”

The couple collapsed into full belly-laughs for what had to have been at least a full minute as Rosalie could do nothing but glare. “It’s funny—“ Carlisle started, pausing to try and compose himself. “It’s funny that you said ‘wait ‘til my father hears about this,’ because I am your father.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes, irritated. She clearly thought that was his lame attempt at a joke.

“It’s true, saweetie,” Esme tried to turn her amusement into a sincere-looking smile. “Your our daughter. I’m your mommy! Were you ever told you were adopted?”

“What kind of weirdos are you?” Rosalie mused, her eyes still narrowed. “Don’t normal kidnappers just tie someone up and leave them be ‘til they’re paid ransom or get arrested? What is this, some sort of house-play shit? I saw something about that on TLC once.”

“Look, princess,” Carlisle started, struggling to get the blade through another bit of rope. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s the truth. I didn’t bundle you up in my car for money, or to hurt you. I bundled you up in my car to bring ya home, where you belong. We’ve missed you your whole life, and now that you’re a lil’ older, we’d love to make up for lost time.”

She looked silently from one to the other. Carlisle could see that it would take a while to convince her. She was suspicious, defensive, and unyieldingly stubborn. Just like her parents.

“Whadiya say, kid?” He smiled at her. “Wontcha give your ol’ man a hug?”

The last of the rope snapped and Rosalie immediately punched him so hard in the nose that it made a horrible crack. He held it as she tried getting away, having seemingly forgotten about the rope around her ankles.

The pair of them allowed her to hop around the garage as both exits were locked. Esme handed him a tissue for his bloody nose and they stood side-by-side against the car, watching Rosalie noisily hunt for something she could either free her ankles or hurt them with. It took him a second to realise Esme was quietly crying.

“Don’t worry, doll,” he put a consoling arm around her and pulled her into him. “She’ll come round eventually. She just needs time. And maybe a car, or a pony, or whadevathefuck teen girls are into deeze days. Whadeva it takes, we’ll do it.”

“It’s not that,” Esme swiped at her tears and turned to him. He was surprised to see she was smiling.

“Then what? What is it, baby?”

Esme wiped another tear away as she proudly cried, “she’s got my uppercut!”

Getting the three of them to work as a family unit had been no easy feat. After showing her the paperwork that proved they were her biological parents, the couple brought Rosalie back to her adoptive home the same evening they had taken her from it in an attempt to show her they were no danger. She didn’t tell the Hales about what had happened, instead blaming her broken curfew on losing track of time while at a friend’s house. Carlisle knew that this was more out of anger at them for lying to her her whole life than it was out of loyalty to the Cullanos. The couple returned to watching her, but this time it was on a daily basis, and they made sure she saw them either by waving across the street or approaching her if she was alone. They often arrived with bribes, but she rolled her eyes each time.

“Hi, Rosalieeee,” Esme sung one day, the two of them having waited for her to get home at the corner of her block. “How was school?”

“Get lost,” Rose muttered as she went to walk past them as usual. Carlisle caught her arm, so she begrudgingly came to a halt and rounded on them with a glare. “What? What do you want?”

“I bought us matchin’ Birkins!” Esme said excitedly, unfazed by Rosalie’s attitude. She held up her arms, each hand gripping the handles of a bag.

“I already have expensive bags. I don’t need more. You know what? I already have parents, too.”

“Who had about as much of a hand in raisin’ you as we did,” Carlisle said. “Tell me, Rosie, which nanny was it you used to mistake for your motha?”

She flinched for a second before recovering her steely expression. “I told you not to call me that. You don’t get to give me a nickname. You don’t get to ask me how my day was. You don’t get to wait around for me every single day. Seriously, you’re both stalkers. You’re already breaking the law by seeking me out before I’m 18. Stop before I call the police and report you for harassment.”

“I don’t think you will,” Esme said gently.

“Oh yeah? What makes you so confident?”

“If that’s what you wanted, you’d have done it already.”

There was a pause. Esme took her chance to hand Carlisle a bag, freeing a hand to caress Rosalie’s arm. “Look, sweetheart. All we’re askin’ for is for you to get to know us. If you get to know us, and you decide you want nothin’ to do with us, we’ll walk away, no questions asked.”

Rosalie considered this for a moment, then looked back and forth at the two of them. “You swear?”

Carlisle traced the cross-my-heart motion on his chest. “Hope to die.”

“Promise,” Esme said firmly.

She let out a sigh. “Fine. But how will it work? I can’t just disappear to go live with you. I’m in my senior year, and my parents would have the mayor turn the city upside-down looking for me.”

“Well, they work ‘til late, right? So we’ll start pickin’ you up from school, and get you back before they come home,” Carlisle said.

“No, you can’t pick me up. Friends will see me getting into some random car. Plus, I’ll have homework...studying....that kinda thing.”

“Ahrite-ahrite,” he nodded. “Responsible, I like it. Education is very impawtant.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes again. “Yeah, it seems to have played a huge role in your life.”

“How about we get you a cell that you can use specifically for us?” Esme asked. “And you can call or text us whenever you’re finished with schoolwork? We can take ya out to eat or...well, do whateva you wanna do.”

Rosalie paused again. “Do I get to pick the phone?”

“Of course,” Esme smiled. She had told Carlisle the bribes would pay off eventually.

“What about your...business?” Rosalie asked curiously. They hadn’t explicitly told her what they did, but she was bright enough to guess.

“We do most of our work at night, anyway,” Esme answered.

And so the months that followed were filled with evening family bonding. Rosalie would call or text, they’d go out to eat, do different things around NYC or Jersey City, drop her home, go take care of business, get home either a little before or after dawn, and sleep while she was at school. She seemed to enjoy her time with them; she never said she was happy to continue allowing them to be in her life, but she never again brought up wanting them to leave her alone, either. So they continued the way they were as her 18th birthday drew closer.

One evening, when the family had gone go-karting, Carlisle noticed Rosalie’s ability to drive with extraordinary speed and precision. He decided to test it out in an actual car, just the two of them, and was thrilled to discover this skill was transferable.

“Guess what, baby?” He approached Esme from behind at their kitchen counter the next afternoon, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“What?” She smiled sleepily as she prepared breakfast, though it was 1pm.

“I think I’ve found us a driver.”

“Really? Who?”

“Rosie.”

She frowned and pulled away so she could properly look him in the face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Remember how great she was when we went go-kartin’? Well, I brought her to a track last night and she was amazin’. Turns out she’s actually really into cars — kid knows more about ‘em than me!”

“First of all, drivin’ round an empty racetrack at night is very different from drivin’ the streets when you’re fleein’ a scene or bein’ chased,” Esme said, pulling fully out of his arms and heading for the sink. “Second, Rosie’s goin’ to college.”

“Whadiyamean, she’s goin’ to college?”

“I mean what the fuck I said: she’s goin’ to college!”

“We just got the kid back and now you’re gonna send her off to some otha parta the country to go to college?”

She turned back to him with a glare. “The whole reason we left her in the first place was so that she could have a normal life. College is a normal life.”

“Normal life? She was bounced around from nanny to nanny! We didn’t give her a life with normal parents, we gave her human cash cows and babysitters!”

“Well, at least she was safe.”

“We’d never let anyone hurt her.”

“We couldn’t guarantee that. We still can’t. That’s why she should go to college like the rest of her friends.”

“What, because college is so safe for young girls? Have you neva read a newspaper?”

“Don’t tell me about the dangers young women face,” she practically growled.

“She’d be with us,” he said, his tone much softer. “Where else could possibly be safer for her to be than with the two people who’d die for her?”

She stared at the counter for a moment. “Her 18th is comin’ up,” she said slowly. “That’s her opportunity to decide if she wants to come live with us or not. If she does, she does; if she doesn’t, she goes to college like the private-school kid she is should. But I don’t wanna force her like we did last time. If she chooses us, I want it to be because she chooses us.”

“Okay,” Carlisle smiled, then added, “and she will.”

And she did. She turned 18, deciding to finish out the school year where she had always lived. After graduation, she packed her bags, told the Hales she knew the truth and that she was leaving them for good, and came to live in the Cullano house. The Hales were a little persistent in trying to convince her to come back to them, but it was nothing that couldn’t be solved by sending Emmett, the most intimidating-looking member of the crew, over to their house to smash a couple of things up. As Carlisle had envisioned, Rose started driving for the Cullanos and their team, initially just the occasional, stress-free errand here and there. But she found it brought a certain amount of thrill and excitement her life had been missing, and so she worked her way up to riskier jobs. This trip to Boston would be her riskiest job yet.

“Is everyone done?” Carlisle now asked. Esme still had a slice left over while Rosalie sat with nothing but crust in front of her.

“Mmhmm,” Rose answered. Esme mumbled something about being full.

They gathered their things and headed back to the borrowed Bugatti that Emmett had arranged for them. Though Emmett was a Brooklyn boy, Boston was his father’s city, and he had relatives all around it. Relatives that would be more than happy to see the Cullanos through what they planned to do tonight.

Rosalie set the GPS to their hotel. “How many Ivanovs are there, again?”

“Six— well, 4 Ivanovs, a Petrov and a Ryan,” Esme answered from the back.

“Who’s the head?”

“Mmm, Tatiana. Or at least she thinks she is,” Esme smiled.

“Is she the one who...did she kill Emmett’s dad?” Rosalie met Esme’s eyes in the rear view mirror. She had developed a bit of a soft spot for Emmett over her time with them.

“No,” Carlisle answered instead. “That was Katarina and Garrett.”

“Garrett doesn’t sound very Russian.”

“Garrett is the Ryan. Irish mob, like Emmett’s dad,” Carlisle said.

“They worked together ‘til he fell for Katarina,” Esme added. “So it was a real blow when the two of them killed him. A big betrayal.”

“Then how come no one’s taken them out yet?”

“They’re powerful. Ruthless. Batshit crazy,” Carlisle said.

“Look who’s talking,” Rose said with a slight smile.

“That’s why Emmett’s mother left here and raised him in Brooklyn,” Esme said. “That’s where she grew up, so she knew she’d be safe. The Ivanovs have people everywhere around Boston. And with a target on the back of every McCarthy, stayin’ woulda been a death sentence.”

Rosalie frowned then. “If they’re that bad, what are we doing here? There’s three of us— two, technically, since I’m just the wheels. Those don’t seem like very good odds.”

“There’s also Alice, virtually,” Carlisle reminded. “She’ll be there behind every camera to tell us what we’re dealin’ with.”

“Cool, so she can say, ‘hey guys, you’re about to die’ right before we die. Helpful.”

“It is helpful,” Esme said. “Even the shortest of warnin’s can buy you just enough time to save your life.”

“Besides, we’re not plannin’ a massacre,” Carlisle said. “I’m expectin’ only one to be there. We hit ‘em, we go. Then we’re even for how they fucked us over with the Kiev deal they were supposed to facilitate.”

“So it’s...a blind hit? It doesn’t matter who you get, as long as you get one of them?”

Carlisle nodded. “But it would be...convenient, if it was Tatiana.”

Once they got back to the hotel, they freshened up and changed. The couple pulled out the stuffed bags Emmett had also organised for them. They took only what they needed, a couple of guns and knives each, and shoved the rest back under the bed.

“Don’t forget my favourite,” Carlisle smirked, waving Esme’s thigh holsters in the air.

“Never,” she said, holding up two pistols that were identical to her favourites back home. “Put them on for me?”

He knelt down, lifted up her skirt and strapped one around her right thigh. Then he moved to her left as she slotted her gun into it. After buckling the left one, he ran his hand down her inner thigh, causing her to giggle. Rosalie burst through the door of their adjoining rooms and froze as she registered them, her face immediately screwing up in disgust.

“Oh, for shit’s sake,” she said. “Get a room.”

“This is our room,” Carlisle pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. “Why aren’t you in all-black?”

She was wearing head-to-toe black like they taught her, as she always did. Carlisle was dressed like an office worker from Mad Men, while Esme looked like a housewife from the 50s. Neither of them said anything.

“This isn’t one of your weird sex things, is it? Like, you can’t possibly get off on killing people together?”

The silence continued. “Ugh, don’t answer that.”

They made their way down to the car and Rosalie silently drove them to a street two blocks down from the address they’d given her. As the pair got ready, she drummed her fingers against the wheel.

“You scared?” Carlisle asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“No,” she said, a little too forcefully.

Esme leaned forward into the gap between the two front seats and put a hand under Rosalie’s chin, directing her so she could look at her intently. “Remember the plan. Stay inside the car at all times. Stay put here, lights off, engine off. Only turn it on when you see us. Or when you see people who aren’t us carryin’ guns. If that happens, you drive and you drive and you don’t ever stop. Same goes if we’re gone past, mmm, a half hour. Forty minutes, tops. There’s a loaded gun in the glovebox if you need it. Got it?” Rosalie nodded. “Good.”

“Stay safe, princess,” Carlisle kissed her on the cheek, opening his door. “Love ya.”

He closed the door and Esme took her hand and squeezed it. “Everything will be fine. But in case it isn’t, you know what to do. I love you, sweetheart.”

She nodded wordlessly again. She never said it back; it was probably still too weird for her. But she swallowed tightly. Esme brought the hand she held onto up to her lips and kissed her knuckles. She then let go and opened the door.

“Esme?” Rose choked out just as she was about to close it.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Come back to me, like you did before.”

Now Esme was the one who could do nothing but nod. And with that, she closed the door, and the couple walked off into the night.

[hood-ex]

For a batfam prompt: Dick as Nightwing, fear toxin, and Bruce?

Dick was in the middle of trying to stanch the bleeding from his nose when his comm started beeping in his ear. He sighed at the terrible timing and quickly wrangled off one of his blood coated gloves to receive the call. 

“Talk to me,” he said, voice sounding high and distorted as a result of pinching his nostrils closed. 

“Whoa,” Babs said. “What the hell is wrong with your voice?” 

“Got a bloody nose,” Dick explained quickly. It was really uncomfortable trying to breathe and talk only through his mouth. He was definitely going to need a huge glass of water after this. “What’s up?” 

“The Owls are what’s up. I need you to get your tush to the cave ASAP.” 

Ah, fuck. 

“What kind of trouble are our freaky electrum filled friends getting up to?” he asked, already tugging his glove back on and booking it back to where he’d left his bike half a block away. He knew he looked fucking ridiculous running while holding his nose, but it seemed pretty insignificant compared to the idea of Talons running loose and slaughtering people. 

“Just one friend, actually,” Babs said. The lack of urgency in her voice made some of the anxiety in Dick’s chest dissipate. It also made him realize that they were talking about a member of the Court and not the Talons. 

“Oh yeah?”

“She was schmoozing it up at the Aparo Auction House with Brucie Wayne and a hundred other rich people.”

A feeling of disgust settled in his gut, his mind replaying the time he infiltrated one of the Court’s underground auctions. The same auction that had tried to sell off the crowbar Joker had beaten Jason with. 

A shiver traveled all the way down to his toes as he leapt over a puddle that was in the middle of the sidewalk. His bike was now in his sight. He could tell it was his because of the way its blue accents gleamed in the moonlight. 

“Looks like Scarecrow and the Court have been doing business with each other,” Babs said in that slightly distracted way of hers that Dick was used to hearing when she was trying to talk while rubbing at her eyes. It was something she did a lot since her eyes were always strained from looking at computer screens for hours on end. “Fear toxin was released through the vents at the auction. It caused an absolute shitstorm of chaos, as you can imagine.”

“Damn,” Dick said, straddling his bike. He was secretly glad he was wearing his thermal suit so he wouldn’t have to ride to Gotham on a cold seat. The only thing he was annoyed about was that he was getting blood all over his handle bars and helmet. “Is B okay?” 

“Yeah... about that...” 

The anxiety in Dick’s chest cranked back up tenfold. Irrational images of Bruce lying dead in a red-stained tuxedo flashed through his mind. He shook his head, mentally yelling at himself to cool it. If something like that had happened, Bab’s wouldn’t sound as casual as she did now. 

“He keeps thinking you’re dead,” she said, and for a second, Dick thought he misheard her over the sound of his tires peeling off down the street. “Red Robin says he keeps switching between rationalizing that you’re alive and thinking you bit it.”

“Huh,” Dick said, not really sure what to make of that. It wasn’t the first time Bruce had delusions of him or someone else dying while on fear toxin. Dick was just slightly surprised because it had been years since he was the sole subject of Bruce’s fear. He wondered if it was tied to Bruce knowing that a woman from the Court was at the auction. Bruce might have associated her with Dick in his mind since the Court had been after Dick for the last few years. 

“All I’m saying is that you might want to hurry home quick, Hunk Wonder. Robin and Red Robin are out distributing an updated antidote to the people who got dosed at the auction. B’s antidote won’t really kick in for another thirty minutes.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“It should take you longer than that,” Babs said suspiciously. 

Dick grinned under his helmet. “It would if I wasn’t making my way there like Sonic the Hedgehog on a caffeine high.” 

“D-Nightwing!” 

“Gotta go, O! I’ll catch you at Cass’s birthday party next weekend!”

Dick disconnected the call, knowing full well that Bab’s hated when he did that and was sure to give him an earful the next time they talked. But that was a problem for future Dick to deal with. 

The ride to the batcave was filled with a lot of weaving and a few angry honks directed his way. Dick was pretty sure he might have even shaved off his expected arrival time by two minutes. He was very decidedly not going to share that with anyone else except for Roy. Roy was the only one who would appreciate it without giving Dick the third degree about safety precautions. 

The cave was about as lit up as it could get when Dick’s bike came to a screeching halt next to one of the batmobiles. Alfred had probably turned on all the lights since they’d learned over the years that shadows and fear toxin really didn’t mix that well.  

Dick left his helmet on his bike and hurried over to the cot Alfred always had them lie on when they were sick or injured. Sure enough, that was where Bruce was currently sitting, his feet bouncing in agitation against the floor. He was already out of his batsuit and was dressed in a soft looking blue shirt and gray sweatpants. 

Bruce’s eyes were squeezed shut and his arms were wrapped tightly around himself, his knuckles white. Dick wasn’t really sure what the correct way was to approach him, but he figured letting Bruce know he was there was probably a good first step.

“Hey, B, I’m here,” Dick said, walking slowly up to his dad to try and give him enough time to work out what was real and what wasn’t. 

Bruce’s head jerked at the sound of his voice, his bloodshot looking eyes immediately seeking out Dick’s own. He looked... well, not okay but not terrible either. Mostly just pale and a little shaky. 

It was the way Bruce was staring at him that made Dick feel nervous all over. His eyes were wide and haunted looking as they soaked Dick up like a sponge. It was the kind of raw look Dick had only ever seen on parent’s faces when they realized their baby wasn’t coming home. 

It was Bruce after Jason’s death. It was Bruce after Damian’s death. It was Bruce after T—

“You want to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?” Dick asked quietly, becoming more alarmed as he noticed Bruce was breathing so quickly that his chest was practically heaving. 

Bruce’s voice cracked as he murmured, “Dick?”

Bruce’s increasing panic didn’t make sense until Dick reached out his hand to comfort him and saw all the blood coated over his glove. 

Oh wow. He was a fucking asshole, wasn’t he?

He jerked his arm back to his side and whirled around so that Bruce couldn’t see all the dried blood on his face.

“I’m okay, Bruce. I’m okay. I got a bloody nose from patrol and... just wait, okay? Let me clean this off.” 

You’re such an idiot, Dick thought as he jogged towards the shower area, ripping off his gloves as he went. Once he was hidden from Bruce’s sight, he quickly peeled off his suit because, yeah, he found that blood had dripped on it as well. No wonder he was staring at you like you’d actually... like you were really...

He grabbed a clean towel from the pile they kept on a rack, and then he wet it and went about scrubbing all the blood off his skin until his face looked raw and the towel looked rusted. He was shivering by the time he was done. The cave was always cold and the water definitely wasn’t helping with that. 

Dick looked in the mirror and made sure there was no more blood on him before he went to their extra clothes supply rack. Weirdly, the shirts and hoodies from his own pile were missing. He barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes, knowing Tim and Damian had probably been taking his stuff again. Tim always forgot to replace the clothes he borrowed after washing them, and Damian usually hoarded the clothes in his bedroom. 

Bruce and Jason’s stacks were still pretty well stocked. Dick made a considering sound in the back of his throat as he looked between them. Jason would definitely blow a gasket if he realized someone had taken his clothes, and contrary to popular belief, Dick really didn’t like fighting with Jason. On the other hand, wearing Bruce’s clothes was kind of weird. 

Says the guy who wore his batsuit, his traitorous brain reminded him. 

Shrugging, Dick grabbed some red gym shorts from his own pile and a black t-shirt and hoodie from Bruce’s pile. He did end up taking Tim’s Nike slides because his own slip on shoes had been stolen by two kleptomaniacs.

By the time he’d gotten himself dressed, he saw that Alfred had returned from upstairs and was coaxing Bruce into eating an artfully prepared sandwich. Dick wouldn’t mind eating one as long as there was no sign of cucumbers in it. 

“Ah, Master Dick,” Alfred smiled, looking both happy to see him and also relieved that he wouldn’t have to deal with Bruce by himself. Bruce whipped around to where Dick was, and their eyes locked briefly before Bruce dropped his gaze like he was embarrassed about needing to reassure himself that Dick was actually there. 

“Hey, Alfie,” Dick said with a small smile of his own. He plopped himself on the cot next to Bruce, and before Bruce could protest, he grabbed Bruce’s fingers and forcefully pressed them against his wrist where his pulse was beating steadily. Bruce’s fingers trembled against his skin from the effects of the toxin, but he didn’t try to move them away. Instead, his shoulders relaxed into a more comfortable position, and he ended up leaning some of his weight against Dick’s shoulder. 

“You gonna eat that sandwich?” Dick asked Bruce who had closed his eyes and seemed to be silently counting the beats of Dick’s pulse. 

Alfred would normally intervene at a time like this and insist that he could go get Dick his own sandwich, but this time, Alfred stayed silent and watched them both with a knowing look. 

“No,” Bruce shook his head lightly. “You go ahead and eat it.” 

“Are you super-duper sure? Or just super sure? Or just duper sure? What level of sure are you?”

Bruce finally cracked the tiniest of grins at the game Dick used to play with him back when their worlds were a little smaller. Back when Casa de Wayne only had a population of three. 

Score, Dick thought with a smile of his own, feeling proud of himself. 

“I’m super-duper sure you can eat the sandwich,” Bruce said. 

That was essentially code for: I’ll throw up all over the floor if I have to eat even a bite of that sandwich. Dick took it as a sign to back off. 

“Well, as long as you’re super-duper sure,” Dick said, making grabby hands at Alfred for the sandwich in question. Alfred only looked mildly exasperated as he handed it over. 

Bruce’s fingers tightened around Dick’s wrist. “Trust me, I’m good.”

When Dick looked over at Bruce, he realized that Bruce’s eyes were open, and this time, they looked much clearer. The antidote seemed to have finally made its way through his system. 

“Good,” Dick said, playfully jostling Bruce’s shoulder. 

There was no stopping his surprised laugh when Bruce jostled him back. 

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

'requiem for a dream' discussion XD

update 1: finished requiem for a dream

update 2: depressed as fuck.

update 3: why did no one stop me from being a naive piece of shit and having even an ounce of hope for the characters XD.

update 4: these are not updates anymore. i am genuinely sitting and thinking about why i expected it to end happier.

for real tho, i really liked the book. i wouldnt say it's in among my favourites but i wont be forgetting about it for a while. the way all these characters, think of drugs as something that will HELP them reach their dreams, their goals is drenching me in so much sadness that i cannot process being in that state. at first i was rooting so hard for harry and marion and then halfway through im like- well yall are FUCKED up now so no italy, no coffee shops and no paintings. and then i questioned whether their dream to be on the come up was just something they could find an excuse for getting drugs. but then i was like hm harry and tyrone do everything by themselves so if that was the reason why would harry still be with marion if she played no actual role in helping them get drugs. and then i thought maybe its an excuse to THINK theyre going to get off them, their dreams were built on the hope that buying drugs would give them enough money to fulfill those very dreams. the denial to the addiction was INSANE tho, like inSANE.

i feel the worst for sara. absolutely destroyed by the progression of her character and i say not only because she ended up in such a terrible place, but also because as someone who's had a terrible relationship with food and body image, watching her cling on to her physical appearance and thinking that all her loneliness would be gone by going onthat show LOOKING a certain way, just made me say 'dont do it please dont please please'. her narration with the repetion of zophtic and thin and the refridgerators talkign was horrifying im just so so so sad she did NOT deserve any of this. its funny how tyrone was disgusted by the man in the jail. and then went on to be without alice and thinking the exact same way the man did about women and relationships. im sorry for ranting i just have a lot of thoughts about this book and its totally fine if u dont reply. also if im not wrong was a-dick-ted inspired from this? i think i remember u saying something along those lines but im not too sure if i got it right. brb gonna reread that series lol

side note: im gonna watch the movie with my crush im terrified and excited at the same time its AWESOME

um, the movie is very accurate to the book, unsure if you want to watch it with your crush LMAO the movie spares absolutely zero expense in how graphic it is and how incredibly messed up the entire situation is

and the ending is exactly like the book

EXACTLY

yeah

your crush might never look at you the same way again lol

'Requiem for A Dream' is about the fruitlessness of the American dream and how that concept can ultimately destroy you. It uses drug addiction to parallel this fixation. All of the characters are trying to "make it". The American dream is a concept that doesn't pertain only to America; it is the idea that anyone can attain their own version of success, regardless of their background, and that upward mobility is possible for everyone. America sells itself as the "land of opportunity", so it is as much a marketing scheme as it is a valid hope. Many countries outside of America still view America as the land of opportunity (and then you live here and, well... XD).

In theory, this is not a terrible mindset to have. Who doesn't want their own version of success? The problem lies in the word itself - success - and how people equate it to money, fame, fortune, and then take it to excess - a little is not enough, once you have a taste of success, you need more, more, more.

See the parallels to drug addiction? XD

Originally, the 'a-dick-ted' au was not inspired by this. It wasn't even supposed to be a series at all LOL It was just a one-shot ft Yoongi fucking you next to a sleeping JK (oop). But then I wrote 'dreaming in reality' and an idea began to form. 'Requiem for a Dream' has influenced a lot of my writing (can't tell you how many essays I've written on this book, it's so easy from both a film and character development perspective); it was only a matter of time before it touched something on here lol

In the 'a-dick-ted' au, I used the concept of love. The reader is fixated on the idea that love does not exist. Yoongi's character is fixated on the idea that he is too mentally broken to be loved. Jungkook's character is fixated on the idea of a "perfect love". All three use sex to cope in one way or another. When they have sex, they are "dreaming", in a delusion where their own self-imposed rules don't apply. When they stop, they are looking for their next fix. However, the reader and Yoongi would be too passive to push their emotions to the extreme, which is why the introduction of Jungkook escalates everything. There's a purity in Jungkook's indecency (lol), almost ironic that he is the most honest of all three. He is the foil that pushes them to their dreams. The line becomes blurred; maybe, after all, reader and Yoongi do feel love and it's not as unattainable as they thought? And maybe Jungkook's perfect love is as imperfect as they come in this strange harmonious triangle of confusion?

lol

'Requiem for a Dream' basically influenced the idea that one can be consumed by an idea to the point of unhealthiness and being blinded by your own dreams - or nightmares, depending on how you look at it. If you reread the 'a-dick-ted' au, you will start to see the connecting themes, use of language, changes in word choice by the characters over time, etc.

There's a lot of intention behind every line, every word, words spoken / unspoken, even the stories that just seem like PWP XD I'm well aware it flies over the heads of most, but occasionally someone chooses to read 'Requiem for a Dream' and pop into my inbox to talk about it. I love that book :D

hey

it got me through a lot of essays for many classes, from psychology to film to literature LOL

[scarecoen]

Trigger warning ⚠️ domestic violence.

I've typed this story a million times so I'm just going to summarize as much as I can.

A few days ago I was assaulted by my partner's family members. And as I've mentioned, I've typed this a million times and I'm honestly just exhausted thinking about it, but we could use some help.

My partner has always had a transphobic family. (I don't have anyone but my dad, who's in no position to help anyone.)

Her mom used her disability against her and manipulated her into giving her MOST of her checks. She's abused the system and my girlfriend.

When I met Jackie, she was with a terrible biggot. Jackie had came out, and her mother conspired with an abusive long distance ex, to fly her here, to stage an "intervention" and stop my partner from transitioning.

It worked. For years.

I met Jackie here on tumblr, we became good, SECRET friends because she wasn't allowed to talk to anyone.

I told Jackie openly about my views regarding gender and how I myself, was not cis.

Eventually she told her partner about us playing games together, which she responded to by harassing me.

Jackie ended up spilling the beans to me, about her mom, about the ex, everything. I realized that she had been extremely isolated and controlled her whole life.

So I intervened.

I got the two of them to separate, which wasn't smooth because Jackie was scared. She had been with her abuser for 9 years at this point. She's never known anything else.

The ex moved back to her state, and I started seeing Jackie, although she was stuck at her mom's... who was trying to play innocent at this time.

Eventually, I kinda just came and picked her up, she stayed the night, she didn't want to go back home. And I can't blame her. The house wasn't only disgusting, her family microagressed her all the time and they would tell her to pretty much stay in a dark room all day.

Ofc I didn't bring her back.

During early quarantine, we had a lot of self reflection and she started distancing herself from her mother, coming around to holding her accountable for her horrible actions.

Her mom messaged her things like "Why won't you talk to me? It's like you're trying to punish us!" Ect, just every fucking manipulative thing she could say, without ever apologizing.

Unfortunately the place we were staying fell through when my best friend's ex husband decided he wants a divorce and decided to throw in some transphobic hatespeach towards me.

We were all looking for somewhere to go.

I'm sure you know where this is going but listen, she told us EVERYTHING we wanted to hear. She told us she's not hateful now, told us she would go to trans support groups, pride, said she's realized how much she loves Jackie and it's time to accept her- and look- we had NO WHERE TO GO. We have 2 cats and at the time, a car that has no a/c or functional locks. AND I have a chronic autoimmune condition that I recently started taking chemo meds for. (Methotrexate.)

I'm too sick to be on the street, and survive. I had to think about me, Jackie, Zoe, and Boops.

And Jackie wanted to go..

I told her we'd be cautious and try to get out asap.

Well, looking for places right when the housing market crashed really fucked us up. That- and because I had only just finally got approved for disability, means I was set back in life- and had no credit to my name. No credit= no place to live.

I had almost built enough, but things went down hill very quickly with her family. Which leads us to right now:

After weeks of microagressions, giving us breakthrough covid cases, yelling at us to clean other's messes, and forcing us and our cats to isolate in our room, many broken promises, and straight up transphobic hatespeach (because she promised to get vaccinated but then said nvm as soon as we moved in and she went on vacation and got covid and gave it to us, which nearly killed me--) she said not getting the vaccine "IS A CHOICE, JUST LIKE YOU BEING TRANS AND TAKING *gestures to my testosterone* THOSE DRUGS."

We just were avoiding each other while I desperately try to gather resources for us to get out, NOW.

Of course, that wasn't good enough, so when her step father messaged her in all caps about our cats having to stay in our room and "I WON'T FUCKING TELL YOU AGAIN" my partner had a breakdown..

Her mom had let her step dad talk to her like this her whole life, basically.

Out of desperation, we went to her sister for help, maybe hoping she'd give us a place to stay for two weeks while we sign off on the lease for our new apartment.

She pretended to want to help and even said... something fucking weird? She made the comment that I'm a good person and I'm so much like her own boyfriend, that it's "scary"...

A few hours later she came to the house. She talked nicely to us, to gain access to our bedroom.

Then she attacked me.

I called the police right before, and was on the phone with dispatch when she lunged at me because she was aggressively trying to MAKE Jackie go into a separate room WITHOUT ME and Jackie was saying no, BEGGING her to STOP.

I wasn't going to let her take Jackie into that room. She looked fucking crazy.

All of the family came into our room, her two sisters, her mom, and her cousin- When they heard yelling.

It was actually me telling her mom that she's a terrible mother, that triggered her sister to try and attack me- although I knew she was planning on trying to from the moment she came into our room.

And that was after her mom was screaming in my face that if I have something to say, say it now.

Dispatch heard everything and sent emt as well...

But the police stayed outside, talking to them for a WHILE before even asking for us.

Her cousin is the only one that would have stood up for me, saying her sister never should have tried to hit me. But he was in the room with Jackie, giving her support...

I faced the cops alone.

He already had "that look."

He shined a light into my eye, letting the family stay on the porch, throwing insults and just letting it happen. He asked me where I'm hurt, and before I could even show him the scratches on my arm, he said "how do I know YOU didn't put those there?"

I wanted to fucking die in that moment.

This is a conservative city.

No one has equality stickers here. No one flies gay flags. People here that are lgbt- they LEAVE.

This is EXACTLY WHY.

I said "well is there any reason I should tell you anything when, clearly, you're already bias?"

I looked at the emts. I looked at his partner. I looked at all the lights and people coming out of their houses-

And behind me was her family.

Her sister that assaulted me, was laughing about having work in the morning.

All of them were looking at me, with hate in their eyes.

He tried to feed me bullshit about "well if I'm taking someone to jail, there has to be proof."

He dismissed everything I attempted to say, until I just stared at the ground and he decided he did his job here.

I told him my whole fucking body hurts because I had 4 people fucking toss my 100lbs ass all over the fucking room, which was a mess that he refused to look at.

He said "I don't see bruises."

I SPAT "BRUISES TAKE TIME?"

He retorted IMMEDIATELY- "YOU'RE NOT EVEN RED."

I asked what about the dispatcher- she seemed concerned- to which he said "you see, sometimes when people call us- they scream and be dramatic- for a quicker response."

I asked what we could do while the two weeks go by for our new place, and he fucking said "I DONT KNOW. BARRICADE YOURSELF IN YOUR ROOM OR SOMETHING."

Needless to say, we are now safe, in a hotel and I've gotten in touch with a few lgbt organizations that are attempting to help us get justice.

Unfortunately because it's a holiday weekend, all we can do is wait right now.

Our first order of business is getting a protection order, so that we can retrieve the rest of our things without her sister trying to attack us again. (I say us because she kept jumping towards Jackie, like she was threatening to hit her.)

I've been so gaslit and victim blamed that I was too scared to go to the er, even though this all happened in the midst of a flare, possibly including my liver health.

There's so much more to this story, as I'm sure other trans people can relate.. unfortunately.

The emts reluctantly offered to take me to the er, but I was like "and leave my partner here with them?" And he just fucking shrugged dude.

I hate this city.

I want out so bad but unfortunately I've committed to a year, but at least it'll be *our* apartment.

We could NOT stay there for two more weeks. Her step dad is a violent offender that has attempted to murder a homeless prostitute over some fucking pocket change- and he has a GUN in the house.

This hotel might run us into a hole, despite it being the cheapest, shittiest hotel in town, it's still going to be about 700$ for ONE week.

To ADD INSULT TO INJURY, SOMEONE ATTEMPTED TO STEAL MY VEHICLE WHILE WE'VE BEEN STAYING HERE.

I'm feeling incredibly paranoid and unsafe, but I'm on anxiety meds now at least and its SORTA helping us cope (My partner and I have the same Dr and she gave her permission to have some.)

The organization BRAVO is trying to help us with a hotel voucher, but because of all the natural disasters, it's hard to find room in charity for people like us, which is fair enough. We aren't immediately on the street, and for that I'm incredibly thankful.

However, if you or anyone you know wish to help you can donate to venmo: kittyzibby. Or you could just signal boost this.

If you can't help, I understand. And IF YOU'RE STRUGGLING FINANCIALLY, don't worry about it, for real.

Right now I'm just scared we'll go into debt before getting the apartment settled in.

I will update on things once our case moves along more, and we were already considering turning to OF sexwork before all of this, so if there could be support that way, maybe we'll get that going once we get moved in. That way, I feel good about providing a service in return.

Thank you so much for sticking with us during all of this. And really- we're doing much better today. We've given each other pep talks, but we are still determined to start our lives together.

Her family was merely trying to scare me away from her, but I got my girl's name tatted on me for a reason.

I know I'm not the bad person here.

Every time Jackie is feeling more gender euphoric, and showing me her changes, and seeing her get more confident, the more I know that what I'm doing with and for her, is right.

I love her so much. And I will never abandon her, like they tried to get me to do.

Jackie is taking a break from some socials, but she's given me permission to talk about what's been happening.

She needs justice too.

I will update as much as I can, but seriously, I think we both just have a fire under our asses now.

Mentally, we're stronger than ever.

Thank you for reading. My heart really goes out to the rest of the queer community that have experienced or are going through similar things.

It's really made me realize why we need to stick together and fight this bigotry bullshit! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

[mightyavngrs]

i guess we both made mistakes | brandon darrow x reader

summary: after finding out brandon was the one behind the snake mask y/n is set on staying away from him for as long as she can. when his safety is compromised, though, she can't help but put the feeling of betrayal aside

masterlist

Brandon Darrow and you had been best friends once upon time, that is until he became popular and ditched you for his new asshole friends. You hadn't talked to him in years until this whole situation started and when you found yourself getting closer to him again while looking for clues on king cobra's real identity, you couldn't help but feel a little happy to somewhat be mending your relationship with Brandon. You really felt like the two of you were finally okay again until Rowan broke the news to you.

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

You were in Hailey's car as the blonde drove you two to pick Rowan up from the zoo party where the girl had went to try and find out who hid behind the snake mask but when she got in the car, an apologetic look in her face, you couldn't help but freeze.

"What happened, Ro? Who is he?" you'd asked the girl, basically begging for good news, only to be met by her sad eyes.

"I'm sorry y/n/n. It was Brandon."

And suddenly you felt like you couldn't breathe, tears starting to sting your eyes as you tried to remain calm not to worry your friends any more.

"No. It can't be." you managed to mutter between trembling lips.

"I'm so sorry y/n. I know you two were getting closer again." Rowan said taking your hand in hers giving it a comforting squeeze.

"He was so gentle to me, Ro. How could he? How could he do this?" your sadness was being replaced by anger and betrayal. Brandon had been there for you during the past few weeks, comforting you when you needed it most, and even going as far as kissing you on the rooftop of his house. Had it all just been some manipulative way to trick you into not questioning his innocence? Was that all you were to him? A piece in his stupid game? You felt sick to your stomach.

Hailey dropped you off at your house after you guys' visit to the hospital to check up on Ash, who'd been in surgery for being shot. Rowan had stayed with Elisia to keep her company but you weren't sure you could keep it together any longer and so had asked Hailey to drive you home.

As you closed the front door behind you, seconds away from finally running to your bed and letting all the build up hurt go through the tears you'd been holding back the whole night, you heard your phone in your pocket. Picking up the device, already imagining what other terrible news or threats you were about to find, your heart stopped at the texts glowing in your screen.

from: rowan

STINGER JUST TEXTED ME

from: rowan

HE GOT A PING ON DUNBAR'S PHONE

from: rowan

IT'S AT YOUR HOUSE

You looked around, trying to type out a reply as you moved towards your bedroom.

to: rowan

are you su-

"Y/n?"

You froze in your spot once you recognized the voice, accidentally sending your text half-finished. Forcing your body around you were met by Brandon Darrow's eyes.

"Get out." you warned holding up your phone in a threat to call 9-1-1.

"Just listen to me." Brandon pleaded taking a step towards you.

You were quick to step back running into your bathroom, Brandon tried to catch your wrist to get you to stop but only managed to knock your phone out of your hands. Before he could reach you you had already locked yourself inside the bathroom.

"Please just let me explain myself, y/n." he pleaded, wiggling the door handle.

"You're trying to kill us!"

"No i'm not! C'mon y/n/n please just listen to me!"

"Don't lie to me! Rowan saw you wearing the mask!" you screamed back at him once again before letting yourself slide down the door to sit on the floor.

"Just listen to me okay? A couple of years ago i logged onto the zoo website to talk shit about my dad, and i met monkey man." Brandon began to explain. "We bonded over our shitty dads and i gave him advice about his bullies." he continued before your smack on the door interrupted him.

"God, you're a liar!" you shouted trying to keep your tears away for the second time that night.

"No i'm not! I thought it was all your fault. I found Dunbar's phone at Nicki's party. I was going to get my bags back before the cops came and... look i was so pissed off because i thought it was all your fault he killed himself, okay? That's why i took his phone, and i sent you that message about the blood balloon."

"God, you're an asshole." you sobbed, covering your mouth with your hand.

"I felt so guilty, okay?" Brandon said. "That's why, when I got the phone, I logged onto MonkeyMan's account. I told them all that we should make you suffer; that we should make you pay. We came up with this stupid hunting idea. When Hailey got out, I texted you all. But when I saw Hailey's face after her audition, I felt so guilty, because I was just trying to make things better, and she was so scared and all I do is make things worse... Y/n i tried to tell them to stop online, you have to believe me, i did, but King Cobra... he was telling them to do really bad things to you. I tried to make it better. I tried to stop everyone, but it was too late."

"You were wearing that fucking mask, Brandon." you said. "Rowan saw you."

"It was a trick," Brandon insisted. "I wanted to find out who he was. Y/n, I started it, but I... I can't stop it." Brandon said, his voice shaking.

"I should've stayed away from you," you cried out, resting your forehead against the door. "Everyone warned me about you and how i shouldn't trust you, but you seemed like you'd changed. You seemed like my Brandon again, my best friend. I should've known it was too good to be true." you stated, a sob leaving your body.

"I'm sorry." Brandon whispered from the other side of the door before finally leaving you.

The next time you heard from him it was through Rowan. The brunette had called you a few hours after your fight with the boy, letting you know that he'd been arrested by the police.

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

Weeks had gone by and Brandon had finally been freed. You'd made a promise to yourself that you wouldn't go anywhere near him ever again, and you'd been successful at the task, that is if you count crying yourself to sleep over how much you missed him multiple nights a week as successful. It'd been hard to keep him away from you though. He'd called multiple times and even knocked at your door a handful of times. Rowan had insisted that you talked to him, but you always refused. The brunette, though, kept in contact with Brandon through her recently acquired step-brother, Trevor, who'd pressured her into looking after you for his best friend's sake.

One day as you got home from The Brew coffee shop, you received a text.

you better take a closer look at your boyfriend's little investigation before he gets hurt.

You felt a breath catch in your throat as you read the message, a picture of you and Brandon taken weeks ago attached. No, it should be bluff, Rowan had been keeping you updated on what Brandon was up to and she hadn't talked about any investigating. You hated that you still cared about his wellbeing but you couldn't just make your feelings disappear. Eventually you decided to lock your phone and move on with your life. A few hours later you received another text. You looked in horror as a video of Brandon tied up in a car with tape over his mouth filled your screen. look what i found. the text read. i warned you, bitch. now he pays.

You struggled to find your car keys, ready to leave for Stinger's place, when your phone started ringing and you swore you'd never accepted a call so quickly in your life. It was Rowan.

"We got the video too. Stinger has the location. Trevor is on his way to pick you up." Quickly thanking your friend you made your way out of the house just as the car pulled over, taking no time into getting on the passenger seat.

Once you got to the location you pushed your way through your friends before coming to a stop. On the wall of what you recognized as a freezer was some code: MrMT 113634 and right below it the words open me. You reached for the handle but the door didn't budge. "Shit" you muttered under your breath before picking up a broken brick from the ground and hitting the lock with it. After a few hits the door opened and you and your friends took no time into entering the freezer despite the cold. You pulled your jacket, (Brandon's jacket, you were yet to notice) tighter around your body as you looked around in disgust at all the animal corpses that filled the container. You finally pointed your lantern down to the floor, trying to avoid the carcasses that'd surely plague your nightmares later that night, when you spotted a shoe. Lifting your eyes from the ground your jaw dropped as you laid your eyes on an unconscious Brandon. His wrists were tied by a thick rope, his skin paler than you'd ever seen it and his lips almost just as blue as you remembered his eyes to be. You dropped to your knees before the boy as you screamed for help from your friends. You could tell Brandon was alive but you weren't sure if he'd stay that way for much longer if you didn't get him out soon enough. With the boys' help, Brandon was placed in the backseat of Trevor's car where you joined him shortly, carefully pulling the boy's freezing t-shirt over his head to replace it with your, well his jacket. You layed his head on your lap running your fingers through his icy hair. "You'll be okay, i'm right here." you told him, not bothering to keep your tears from falling when suddenly Brandon's eyes fluttered open, a relieved sigh leaving your body. He looked up at you, lifting up his hand to cup your cheek. "Don't cry, baby. You saved me." He said with a sad smile before starting to close his eyes again. "No, B, don't fall asleep on me, not now." you told him, grabbing his hand with yours before placing a kiss on its back. "Please stay with me, we're almost home." The boy in your lap opened his eyes again and you could tell it was hard for him to do so. "You're doing so good, love. Just hang in there." you pleaded, your voice trembling with fear.

It felt like it'd been hours when you finally goby to Stinger's. Once inside it was like your body was moving on its own as you went looking for blankets while the other girls went to make some tea and the boys placed Brandon on the couch. You crawled in the sofa next to him, wrapping him in the covers you'd found as he rested his head on your shoulder. You realized then that all the anger you'd felt towards him during the past weeks had dissipated the moment you saw him in that freezer.

"Are you okay?" Brandon asked noticing you drift off.

"You almost just froze to death and you're asking me if i'm ok?" you asked back letting your head fall on top of his.

Eventually Rowan and Elisia got back, handing Brandon the mug of tea. Everyone discussed the recent events until they decided to run to the train station to try and open the luggage locker. You got up from the sofa, Brandon following behind before you interrupted his movements.

"You're not going." you warned him, his mouth opening up in protest before you continued. "You almost just died, Brandon. You need to rest." the boy sighed in disappointment.

"You can stay at mine tonight. My parents aren't home. Do you think you can drop us off there on your way to the station?" you asked Trevor, receiving a nod from the boy.

"Woah, you sure you'll survive a night in my presence?" Brandon asked in a mocking tone.

"Shut up before i change my mind."

You got home not long after, moving to the kitchen to heat up some soup as Brandon took a sit on your couch. Leaving the kitchen you let your feet drag you back to the living room before handing him the bowl.

"Thanks." he muttered, starting to shove spoonfuls of the hot liquid into his mouth. Suddenly you were reminded of something quickly making your way up the stairs and into your bedroom before returning to the couch with something in your hands.

"What's that?" Brandon asked, his eyes moving to whatever you were holding behind your back as you sat down next to him, your hands moving to your lap as you revealed Fishy.

"I meant to give this back to you a while ago but then everything happened..." you began. Brandon interrupted, placing the now finished bowl down on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry." he said, his blue eyes locking with yours. "I'm so sorry i began all of this. I was just mad and i thought i was getting revenge for Dunbar but i just ended up hurting more people." You could sense the genuine guilt in his voice and your heart broke all over again. You looked down at your lap where your hands played with the stuffed animal.

"You know i tried to be mad at you, B, i really did. But at the end of the day when i got home from school all i wanted to do was curl up in bed with this stupid frog and cry. I missed you so much Brandon. I hated myself for it but i did." You confessed as the boy reached up his thumb to wipe away a tear you didn't realize was rolling down your cheek.

"I guess we both made mistakes uh?" he joked as you chuckled through watery eyes.

"Yeah i guess we did." you sighed getting up from the couch, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "You wanna take a shower or something? I still have one of your hoodies and my dad must have some sweatpants around."

"Yeah that'd be nice" Brandon said trying to ignore how happy he felt that you'd kept not only Fishy but also his hoodie and jacket.

"You know where the bathroom is, make yourself at home.." you said before leaving to your bedroom.

30 minutes later Brandon knocked on your door, already back from his shower.

"Okay you can sleep in my bed and i'll just sleep on the floor-" you started, already in your pajamas, before the boy interrupted you.

"No way. I'm not letting you sleep on the floor."

"Okay then i can go sleep in my parents' room..." you stated before picking up your pillow.

"Oh c'mon y/n/n i know you hate not sleeping in your room." he sighed taking a sit in your bed. "We can share the bed you know? It's not like we haven't done it before." he suggested looking up and you swore you could see a hint of hope in the blue of his eyes.

"Okay" you agreed just above a whisper as the boy began to settle in the bed. You layed down beside him, the both of you staring up at the ceiling where the glow in the dark stars you'd put up as children shone.

You took a big breath in before turning your head in his direction. "You know before i got the video of you i received a message..." Brandon turned to you encouraging you to keep going. "Mr Empty was threatening to hurt you if i didn't stop your investigation. He- I thought it was bluff cause Rowan had been giving me updates on you and she said you weren't investigating anything so i let it go. You almost got hurt because i refused to talk to you myself and i-"

"Hey it's ok." Brandon reassured you with a hand to your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin to try and get you to calm down. "You couldn't have known. Besides, you had valid reasons not to want to talk to me." he stated, a sad smile adorning his face.

"I just wish we could go back to before all of this started happening." you told him taking his hand in yours. "Before we drifted apart and when our only problem was making sure we were home on time for dinner." You smiled at the sweet memories that flooded your mind.

"It's my fault. I was the one who pushed you away and i'll never be able to apologize enough for that."

"It's ok, Brandon. I guess we both made mistakes..." you said repeating his statement from just a while ago, a sigh leaving your body. "We should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah. Goodnight y/n/n."

"Goodnight B." you replied before turning your back to him and drifting off.

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

You opened the door to the freezer and got inside, your flashlight illuminating the way. Your feet led you through the container before you came to a stop. Before you layed a lifeless Brandon. You fell to your knees screaming for help as you pulled the boy up as well as you could, hugging his freezing body to yours, trying to somehow bring him back to life. You kept screaming for help as you cried but no one would come. You were alone.

You woke up gasping for air as tears streamed down your face. You looked to your side to try to find some comfort on the sight of an alive Brandon only to find his side of the bed empty. Panic ran through your body as you struggled to get out of bed. What if they took him again? You thought to yourself as you ran down the stairs. What if he's really dead?

Reaching the end of the staircase you came to a stop as you locked eyes with a confused Brandon putting a cup of water down. Without thinking twice you threw yourself into the boy's arms, holding his body tightly against yours.

"Woah what happened?" he asked, concern filling his voice, as he hugged you back with just as much need.

"I had a nightmare and you were dead and then i woke up and you were gone and i thought... i thought..." you struggled to finish through broken sobs.

"It's ok. I'm right here, I'm ok. You saved me, remember?" he reassured you pressing a kiss to your head, but noticing you hyperventilating he held your face in his hands pulling you away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. "Hey, i'm safe y/n but i need you to breathe for me ok? Just take a deep breath." you did as he said breathing in slowly before breathing out. "Yeah just like that, baby. In and out." he kept reminding you until you finally started breathing normally again. He hugged you again muttering into your hair a low "Let's go to bed okay?" before leading you back to your bedroom. You layed down in your bed, resting your head on Brandon's chest. "Is this ok?" you whispered looking up to meet his eyes. "Yeah." he replied with a smile holding you tighter against him.

That night you both slept better than you'd slept in years. Brandon happy to finally have you in his arms again and you listening to his heartbeat, the steady rhythm a constant reminder that the boy you loved was safe and sound.

-

-

-

-

a/n: this is my longest fic yet so please be gentle with me :') i'm not expecting a lot of people to read this at all, since the show isn't popular, but i figured this would be put to better use on my tumblr than forgotten on my notes app. so if this flops look away haha anyways for anyone who read: i truly hope you enjoyed. thank you for reading and treat people with kindness <3

[jackambrosemodeling]

Boy Talk || Jack & Brandon

When: May 2, 2021

Where: Jack’s apartment, Santa Monica, California

Featuring: Brandon Kelly (dialogue provided by Katie @itsbrandonkelly)

Triggers: Allusion to alcoholism

After firing off a You’d better be home. text to Jack, he realised that he really should have checked first to save him from waiting outside their apartment but that’s why there were so many saying about hindsight. Still, he knocked to let his presence be known instead of texting again, hoping he’d timed his visit well.

Jack was coincidentally home when they received Brandon's text. They got out of the shower when they saw the message. After texting him back with a 'bitch I might be', Jack unlocked their door as well as the entrance door to the apartment building. They followed up with a 'door's open' text and went to go find clothes to put on before Brandon came inside.

He huffed out in amusement at the first response he got and then knocked again at the second before letting himself in. “Who leaves their door open? This is the start to every horror film ever, then again just letting yourself into someone’s home is also how they start.” He called out, heading to the kitchen instead of looking for Jack. He figured they would have answered the door if they weren’t occupied with something else and so they’d join him when they were done. When he found glasses, he settled himself on the couch and shrugged off his jacket.

"I do when I know someone's coming over!" they yelled from behind their closed bedroom door. If someone had actually broken into their apartment for nefarious purposes, Jack was more than prepared to deal with the situation. Once they were presentable, they looked around until they found Brandon in the living room. "Comfy there?" they teased. "You know I love seeing you, but a little more of a heads up would've been nice. I could've still been in the shower. I could've been actively having sex!"

“Who’s supposed to be coming over? I can’t believe you were inviting people to chill and I wasn’t one of them?” Brandon had taken out his phone to sit on the couch with him and had even gotten as far as pouring them both a drink before Jack had come to meet him. “Yep. I made myself at home.” He gave Jack his best smile, even fluttering his eyelashes for good measure. “If you loved seeing me that much you would invite me over to do those things with you. Besides, it’s not much of a surprise visit if I tell you about it, is it?”

“You! I opened the door for you, silly!” Jack looked at the two glasses, then back to Brandon. “Oh shit, the wine that Nyle sent as a moving present! I forgot I had that.” They didn’t want to be rude and throw it out, and figured it would be good to have in case of guests, so they hid it. The fact that they managed to not drink any of it themself was a miracle. “Yeah, I’m not sure how Viv would feel about that... speaking of which. Fun update in my life. I’m kind of seeing someone? Still figuring out labels and whatnot.” Though there were rumors floating around the gossip sphere, Brandon was the first person they confirmed the rumor to.

“Then the door wouldn’t be open so it wouldn’t matter if you were showering or fucking, would it?” Jack’s comment had Brandon looking at the bottle again and picking up the glass closest to it. “Mine is alcoholic. I brought you some appley juice recommended by the best palate I know.” He patted the space beside him before his eyebrows raised in surprise. “You settled before you boned me? Disgusting. Unacceptable.” Despite his words, he started grinning. “I’m so happy for you, babe. That’s cute.”

“Brandon, stop making good points,” they huffed, sitting down on the couch next to Brandon. “Oh, thanks.” While Jack had never explicitly told Brandon why they quit drinking, it appeared that he had gotten the hint. “I’m sorry. It turns out I have a SIMP gene that was activated by me moving to Santa Monica. Who would’ve thunk it?” they joked, knowing damn well that they’ve simped over every person they’ve ever dated.

“I can’t help that I’m brilliant. Sorry buddy; you just gotta live with that I’m afraid.” He hummed quietly in amusement. Brandon simply offered them a smile at their thanks. They never joined in whenever B was drinking and he was nothing if not attentive. Sometimes, at least. “Literally no one because the simp gene has always been in you and always been active but I’ll keep that to myself if it really makes you feel better.”

"All my friends are hot and smart, but I'm just hot. Story of my life." Jack sighed, taking a sip of the juice that was so graciously provided to them. "Excuse me?!" Jack exclaimed overdramatically. "Are you calling me a simp? In the comfort of my own apartment?! I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment. I don't know how I'll go on!" They busted into  laughter, unable to keep the act up.

“You’re hot and smart. What the fuck are you talking about? Be nice to my friend or I’ll kick your ass.” He reached his foot out to nudge Jack with, an amused smile on his face. “Plus, you’re also super hot, own it. And yes. I’m calling you a simp. You’re the themperor of simpington. Population... Uh, I don’t know how many people are in Santa Monica but that’s the population.”

“Brandon, I was a straight-C student in high school and have the common sense of a bag of potato chips. I know my strengths and weaknesses.” Jack knew they weren’t book smart and it didn’t bother them. “Excuse me, I am not Themperor Simpington. That title belongs to Sunwoo Seong. Have you met them? But they did skip town a while back... shit. I didn’t ask for this title. I need to find a new non-binary friend to bestow this title on. I just need more enby friends in general.”

“You don’t have the common sense of a bag of potato chips, Jesus Christ Jack.” Brandon laughed as he slapped Jack’s arm. “You’ve survived this long in this industry, babe. That’s not down to potato chip brain, even I nearly crashed out a couple of years in.” He raised an eyebrow, head tilted as he fixed them a look of disapproval. “You are Themperor Simpington. The queen has spoken. I met Sunwoo once and obviously offered to climb that tree but they left and Joonie was sad so I’m no longer a fan of tall, hot and dimpled. If it makes you feel any better, I’m a huge simp for my sweet boy.”

“Hey, I’m funny. Fuck you,” they retorted, chuckling. “I’ve been told that I’m charismatic, and that’s helped me out in the industry. I’m still not that famous though.” While Jack was relatively well-known in queer circles, heterosexual circles were a whole other ballpark. Being friends with Brandon and recently befriending Vanessa did help their social standing though. “Themperor Simpington my butt,” they grumbled. “Wait, when you say ‘my sweet boy,’ do you mean Minjoon or do you have another boo I should know about?”

“Bitch, I been trying to get you to for so long now. I was starting to think you needed glasses.” Bee broke into a laugh before he even finished his sentence, nudging Jack’s arm in his giggling. “Yeah, you have to have a look and you have to be charming to start work in this industry but to survive in it? You have to be smart. About that though, I know I keep promising you a space on my next project and it’s had a few.. speed bumps I guess? Not really speed bumps but personal delays? Either way, I know enough now to be able to tell you that Queen B’s.. that I’m releasing a trial perfume.. fragrance line. Five scents to start, each will have its own colour have theme shots with, each will have its own model to associate with and I want you, if you’re interested?” Their mumbling made Brandon grin, coughing as a terrible fake attempt at covering up the ‘Simp.’ he titled them with again. “Minjoon is my sweet boy. I don’t have another boo, not even a little bit but if you hear simp alarms going off whenever I like the instas of a very beautiful friend of mine then mind ya business.”

"Oh my god. Brandooooon!" Though Jack had quite a few friends with benefits in their days, whenever the thought of doing anything with Brandon crossed their mind, they thought about the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed seventeen-year-old they met all those years ago. Jack's eyes lit up when he started talking about his fragrance line project. "Oh hell yeah I'm interested. Just remember, my favorite colors are purple and pink." They winked at Brandon. Aside from one photoshoot in L.A. that they did after fashion weeks, their work schedule was dryer than a desert. Of course they wouldn't tell him that though. They didn't want to sound desperate. Jack would've taken this job even if they weren't in need of work. "B, you're gonna have to be a little more specific than that. I know you. You don't befriend ugly people."

The laugh that left him this time was more of a giggle and he scrunched his nose up, shaking his head. “I tease but honestly, you’re practically family. Did you know that my parents ask after you? They know as much about you as I do but.. Well, they’re embarrassing. Eh, mom’s okay. Dad’s embarrassing so you’ll probably never meet them but yeah.. They get told about the important people in my life and you’ve been in it longer than Joonie.” Brandon groaned, setting his glass down. “Can’t believe I’m being gross and emotional already. Moving on..” He said, a little louder. “Purple would be fantastic for you. It’s a very royal colour and I’m going to do the obvious and lean into that a little but silk, not velvet. Pink was going to have a sweet-candy-lace vibe to it but if you want pink I can give you pink.” Brandon rolled his eyes, despite the heat he could feel spreading up his neck. “I have a... friend called Kian and he’s... There hasn’t been a word invented yet for how beautiful he is and it’s ridiculous and gross because I don’t lose my mind over pretty boys but he’s.. He makes me blush, Jack. I don’t blush.”

"Brandooooooooon! Stop, you're gonna make me blush. I'd love to meet your parents. Parents love me. Well, actually, I just love milfs and dilfs," Jack cackled at their own dumb joke. "But in all seriousness, let me know when they come to town!" As much as they wanted to meet Mr. and Mrs. Kelly, they didn't want to go to the Kelly home to do so. Jack knew that they shared a home state with Brandon, and didn't want to reenter North Carolina at the risk of running into their family. "Ooh, purple and silk? Now you're speaking my language!" Jack wiggled their eyebrows when Brandon mentioned Kian by name. "A yes, the cute delivery boy. You've mentioned him before. We're Instagram mutuals!"

“Do it! Blush, you coward!” Brandon laughed, leaning against Jack’s arm to nudge them. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I have to say this but if you’re gonna fuck my parents, please don’t date them and wait until I’m out of the room if you’re going to flirt, I don’t need to see that. They really would love to meet you though, they’ve been waiting for permission to come to town.” Brandon grinned at Jack at their approval, giving a small nod. “I’ll get some things drawn up for you. I do have a few already as rough drafts but now I know you’re taking it, I can design something a little more tailored to you.” The warmth spreading across his cheeks and colouring his face a darker shade of pink only grew worse as Jack wiggled their brows at him. “Yeah.. Well.. He’s almost perfect. The only thing I’d change about him is his last name.” His reaction to himself was instant, throwing himself against the cushions to yell out a laugh. “And I keep saying dumb cheesy shit like that! I’m a bumbling mess around him. Like.. Like I start off all smooth and collected and then he smiles and I’m just.. fucking applying to be hired by hallmark. It’s.. It’s so cringe and gross and... I’m happy.”

"Brandon, I'll become your new step-parent and ground you, don't tempt me," Jack joked, cackling. "Well give it to them! Don't deprive me of your loving parents!" Jack didn't have loving parents of their own, so if Brandon's parents were anything like Brandon, Jack was going to latch to them like nobody's business. "Oh my goooooooooooood, that was so coooooorrrrnnnnnyyyyy! Damn, and you call me a simp! I'm not out here reciting poetry on main about my crush. And if you bring up the fact that we have keys to each others' apartments, mind your business." Jack knew they were simping hard over Vivian, but now it was Brandon's turn to be in the hot seat. "So have you considered, you know, talking to him?"

“Their ex girlfriend actually tried that once. Oh my god, it was kind of funny though. You’ll have to treat me better when our guests arrive and do as you’re told or I’ll have you cut off until you learn some damn respect.” He mimicked in a too high voice, rolling his eyes afterwards. “Like.. Honey, I’ve only just noticed you’re not the last guy they were dating and that’s only because you started pterodactyl screeching.” Despite his playful tone, Brandon could feel warmth spreading across his face. “Yeah, okay. I’ll.. I’ll invite them up to meet you.” Having made peace with the fact that he‘d made himself into a product, his parents were off limits when it came to the people in his life, knowing how fickle and superficial a lot of his relationships with people were. It was different with Jack though, Jack really was his friend. “Honestly, I’ve been an absolute mess. I pulled the whole ‘My friends call me B, you can call me any time.’ Thing on him when we met and now I just blush all the time and feel nauseous over butterflies.” He waved his hand quickly at Jack’s news, shaking his head. “NUH uh.. We are not going to just gloss over that? Oh my god? Keys? You’re entering domesticity. Like.. Me and Joonie levels of domesticity and my parents are the founders of the BranJoon wedding fan club. Like.. You’re getting into that territory..” There was a small pause before a smile spread across his face. “I’m happy for you, babe. Honestly. You deserve this.” He couldn’t help but sigh at the question, sinking into his seat a little with a pout on his features and a small shrug. “I’ve been so obvious about it. Short of getting a neon sign to carry around, I don’t know how much more obvious I could be and sometimes it feels like he’s being obvious back? Like.. It feels like it’s not just one sided? And then I start having a gay panic and do something dumb because he’s way out of my league which is a new thing for me. I do want to though. Should I?”

"Hold up, hold up. I said that as a joke. You're telling me that your parents are actually non-monogamous?! And you didn't tell me until now?! I came out as polyam like, 2-3 years ago! And now I'm in a monogamous set-up again. I missed my shot. I'm hurt." Jack put their hands over their chest and sniffled, but almost immediately returned to their usual cheerful demeanor. "I'm kidding, I'm not gonna become your step-daddy, or... I don't know what a gender-neutral equivalent would be besides 'parent,' and that doesn't roll of the tongue as well." This wasn't something they had to think about right away. It wasn't like they were going to wake up tomorrow with a child. "Ah yes, your infamous pick-up line." Jack's face turned pink when Brandon acknowledged the keys. "Okay, I actually do have an explanation! I initially gave her my spare key because I asked her to water my plants when I was away for Fashion Week. Granted, she didn't do a good job and managed to kill both plants, but that's an aside. But yeah, I just never asked for the spare key back." Jack gave Brandon a shoulder pat. They really didn't know Kian, so couldn't tell what the full situation was. "What I've learned from my many years of dating men is that men are dumb and sometimes you literally need to spell things out for them."

“As momma dearest says, monogamy is for the weak. Anyway, they were already in a relationship when you came out. Also? I don’t want to be hooking my parents up with my hotties?” Brandon pulled a face at Jack, nose scrunched up in disapproval. “To be fair though, you and Viv wouldn’t even be the first couple they’ve dated. You’d be the first I’d... somewhat approve of but..” He shrugged before laughing. “Oh my god. There are a couple.. Zaza or zeze instead of dada and mama but given the chance I’d mash up dad and mom and just refer to you as my dom to make everyone in the room uncomfortable.” He shook his head, laughing quietly. “I hate this so much, Jack please.” “I think it’s funny, definitely in my top 3 introductions.” He found himself sitting up straighter when he noticed the blush on Jack’s cheeks, a grin forming on his own features. “Oh my god. She killed your plants and you let her keep your key? Say it with me, babe. Simp. You’re cute though. I’m totally 100% on board with the two of you. She was one of my heroes.” When the conversation turned back to him, Brandon tilted his head as he weighed his options. “Not Kiki but... You’re right, I guess. He’s probably so used to everyone being in love with him that my flirting is just baseline niceties. Okay, yeah. I’ll.. I’ll tell him that I’m crazy about him. Or I’ll just text him that aggressive meme about wanting to hold hands.”

"Aaaaah, your parents are so cool! I wish my parents were cool like that. Mine are just homophobic." There was a lot more to Sofia and Tony Corleone than just that, but very few people knew about them. This was very much intentional. They made a face at 'zaza' and 'zeze.' "Yeah, not really digging those ones... Wait. Dom?!" Jack paused to laugh. "Fucking hell. Yes. That's definitely what my future kids are gonna call me." Jack never brought up the topic of kids to Vivian. They were still very early in their relationship and Jack was afraid they were too old to be a parent. It was still a nice thought though. "Yeah. I got back from Paris and she was having a bad day, so I ordered a pizza and we just... talked. Had a real heart-to-heart. I ended up staying the night, and we've basically had an open-door policy with each other ever since. And then the next day I went back into my apartment and found out about the plants."  Jack grabbed a pillow from the couch and lightly smacked Brandon's arm with it. "I know, I know! I'm a big sappy simpy mush. I'm a Cancer, I don't know what you expect from me." It took Jack a long time to accept their emotional side, but now they openly embraced it. "Or he might not know how to recognize flirting. I've met many people like that. Like the cute DJ at that bar where Minjoon used to work. Or Minjoon himself!”

“My parents have a big bank balance and even bigger hearts. That’s why I don’t approve of a lot of their partners but yeah.. As much as I give them shit for being lame, they’re the coolest. I mean, they’re the only reason I’m even.. y’know... Around.” Brandon let out an unattractive snort and sat forward to retrieve his glass, pouting when he realised it was empty but simply sat back instead of refilling it. “Please, I am begging you, think carefully as to why I’d find calling you my dom funny before you commit to that decision.” He pressed his lips together to fight his laugh before he let out a soft hum. “Do you think that’s where you’re headed with her? Is she someone you can see yourself having kids with?” He asked softly, his whole demeanour changing from playful now that they had ventured into serious topics. “You don’t have to say yes and you don’t have to have an answer right now. Things are still new with you both and y’know... Take it from the adopted, some people don’t want kids and some do.” He shrugged a little.

“Ew. You talked to each other over pizza because one of you had a bad day? That’s disgusting.” When hit with the pillow, Brandon grabbed it to tug it away from Jack so they couldn’t attack him again and he hugged it to his chest, propping his chin on it. “I live for that kind of domesticity.” He sighed wistfully. “You are a big simpy mush and I love that about you. It’s gross and honest and just very sweet. I’m really glad you have someone who makes you feel that way, babe.” Brandon  rolled his eyes and gave the pillow a small squeeze. “Vito really doesn’t recognise flirting? The dude wants to be an actor! With a face like that a lot of his roles are probably going to have it. I wanted to ask if he wanted any help getting into it because he was good to Joonie when they worked together and I always appreciate people taking care of the babie but I also feel like I don’t know him well enough to just give him a shout about a job. Eh. Maybe I’ll get Joonie to text him about this perfume thing and actually see what skills he has. Joonbug doesn’t count for the whole flirting thing though, attraction isn’t really his thing.”

"I gotcha," Jack stated, nodding. They had a similar problem when they first started modeling. They loved to spoil their loved ones-- and still do-- and people often took advantage of their generosity. As Jack grew older, they learned how to weed out the moochers. Of course Brandon was never a moocher; he wasn't the type to take without giving, plus he had plenty of his own money. Jack watched for Brandon's reaction, then chuckled in response to his face. "Babe, I know. I was joking. Could you imagine?!" They shrugged at Brandon's question. "Honestly, I have no idea. I think it's too soon to talk about that kinda stuff. I thought I was never gonna become a parent because Sage didn't want kids, but, you know, they're not my fiancé anymore." Sage not wanting kids wasn't the main reason the engagement was broken off, but it was a bone of contention in the relationship.

"Oh hush. One day you'll have a heart-to-heart over pizza too. Well, maybe not because of the whole gluten thing, but some food that you enjoy." They stuck their tongue out at Brandon. "Ohh, that's his name! At least he didn't recognize me flirting with him. Could just be that he wasn't into me because he's straight, but I'm hot so that's dumb." Jack didn't want to have sex with straight dudes anyways, so they didn't consider it a major loss. "Attraction isn't his thing? Is he asexual or something?" they asked curiously. "Wait a minute, you're deflecting!"

[cant-blink]

7 Deadly Sins: Gigan

SHOWA GHIDORAH GIGAN

Wrath (7/10)

Gigan doesn’t get angry very often. Whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it to have a good time and he’s much more likely to be amused than pissed when something stands up to him. That being said, he does have his triggers (especially in his Final Wars form) and when they’re pushed, he selects violence. Brutal bloody violence. Without any hesitation. So don’t piss him off. He WILL kill you without a second thought, and trust me, this sadistic bastard WON’T be making your death pleasant.

Gluttony (8/10)

Gigan likes to eat. Unlike most kaiju, his species are obligate carnivores that actively hunt and kill to survive. They aren’t Skullcrawler levels of ravenous, but pretty close. Growing up, food was used as a reward for Gigan by his Nebulan masters and although the reward changed to mates when he reached adulthood, he still treated his “mates” as prey, and would cannibalize them when he was done. Yeah, you read right, Gigan is a cannibal. Happy about it too. Freed from Nebulan control to live his own life, it only got worse. He was no longer limited to whatever food was given to him, the whole Universe is his banquet! He has a habit of seeing others as prey to toy with and devour. His career as an assassin worked pretty well since no worries on disposing of the body, he got it covered under the contract. As a pirate, even better, as he can slaughter whoever he pleases and really get to sample some exotic meats. But then, tragedy struck. Ever since being forced into his Final Wars form, he no longer needed to eat. Indeed, he’s become more machine than organic, and he hates it. So as if in defiance to his new biology, he still indulges in food even though he doesn’t need it. Just to give himself the illusion that he’s still alive.

Greed (10/10)

Gigan is a very greedy creature. Part of his becoming a pirate is to steal and horde all the things labeled as valuable and sell them on the black space-market. He accumulates a lot of riches and although he can use them to live in luxury whenever he fancies to, he still prefers to use intimidation and threat of planetary destruction rather than spend actual money. Give even a cent to the needy? Nah, he’d rather eat the needy. Hey, it’s putting them out of their misery at least! And no, he’s not sharing any of his food. If his friends want food, they can get it themselves. Space-ducks will only share their food with their mates and chicks, and Gigan’s “mate”, Ghidorah, doesn’t even eat, and they have no chicks, so win-win! More for him!

Envy (9/10)

You would think someone as powerful and handsome as Gigan wouldn’t have much to envy. And you’d be right.... in his Showa form. As Final Wars, there is one thing he’s become very envious of and that’s the fact that he will never be considered "alive", like everyone else. Ghidorah’s moon-crests always glow so bright for these lesser creatures, but so dim for him. Constantly reminding him of his insecurity, and making his jealousy worse. So y’know what, let’s keep some folks alive around Ghidorah, that way Gigan can look at that glow and pretend that it’s for him. This envy for life really does drive him a lot in his current form; anything that gives him the illusion that he’s still his old self will be done. Have fun to its fullest? Yes. Sleep around? Yes. Eat when he doesn’t need to? Yes. Flaunt Ghidorah around to make everyone else envious of HIM?! Hell, yeah- Wait, is Ghidorah paying attention to someone that isn’t him?! Is Ghidorah TALKING to anyone that isn’t him, WITHOUT PERMISSION?! FEUIHDOWA- Actually, maybe he does have a bit more envy than I thought, now that he has a mate to be possessive over. 

Sloth (7/10)

Like Showa Ghidorah, Gigan spends a lot of time in dormancy during space-travel in his diamond. Not as often though, as he will also hi-jack ships with his ‘crew’ and has the luxury of enjoying said space-travel with victims and friends alike. He does require sleep as Showa Gigan and did indeed sleep alot, a hold-over of his days in captivity when there wasn't much to do beyond sleep, eat, and whatever mission they wanted from him. But when he is awake, he did work diligently for his Masters, to the best of his abilities and with great enthusiasm. As Final Wars though, he no longer requires sleep. But he still does so, because he’s alive, dammit! Now let him dream! But now, he no longer works an actual job (he quit his beloved assassin career after being forced into his new "updated" form), and has since grown more laid back (aka, lazy) as to whether or not he'll follow-through on whatever responsibilities is placed on him. He likes having fun and feeling forced into responsibility is not fun! So that heightens his score.

Lust (10/10)

Gigan is a horny bastard. If there’s a victim that even slightly tickles his fancy, guaranteed, he will have extra fun with them before they die. He’s also been known to use sexual favors to get what he wants, especially for a certain love-struck beetle that keeps whining about wanting to go home. Those sales-people that can't be won over with the threat of death? Well, make love, not war as they say! He also likes visiting the less savory parts of the universe, specifically to watch shows and request services. But truly, the primary target of his lust is the three-headed dragon himself. Those golden scales and massive wings will drive any space-duck crazy with WANT and Gigan is no exception. Before seeing this hydra, the idea of mating for life wasn’t something he was ever interested in, but now, Ghidorah is something that he wants to keep for himself. Forever. Back before he decided to track down the dragon, if he even THOUGHT about this golden wyvern, guaranteed, he’s going to fuck something, he doesn’t care who or what. When he finally does get his claws on Ghidorah, literally EVERYTHING this dragon does has Gigan lusting for him even more. To Ghidorah's dismay.

Pride (10/10)

Gigan is a very prideful creature. He's a narcissistic individual who only thinks of his own pleasure, and sees everyone else as either a means to an end, prey, or a toy. He takes great pride in combat abilities, and is prone to underestimating his target. He adores his claws and often brandishes them at every opportunity to show them off, and intimidate foes. In his Showa form, he especially took pride in his appearance. Raised in captivity, he was a prime example of his race, with gleaming feathers and large sails. Being a cyborg only enhanced his pride, as it made him far stronger than the rest of his species, something he readily took advantage of whenever the Nebulans rewarded him with a ‘mate’. But this took a blow in his Final Wars form, where he lost everything that made him an attractive space-duck and became more of a machine than an organic creature, and he's become quite self-conscious about this. He covers this under a veil of over-exaggerated confidence, but has become a bit more sensitive when his insecurity is poked at. And by "sensitive", I mean violent. Extremely violent, even towards his perceived mate. So call him "half-life" again, Ghiddy boi, you're already half-way to being disemboweled; give him a reason to finish the job. Terrible as his Final Wars form is, he’s a hell of a lot more powerful than he’s ever been before, with more weaponry added to his arsenal. That’s still a source of pride that ALMOST makes up for his freakish appearance. But his greatest pride yet is enslaving Ghidorah as his mate; something about having such a beautiful and powerful creature under his claw is satisfying and you bet your ass he’s going to show off his accomplishment to everyone in the Universe! 

TOTAL: 61/70

Showa Ghidorah’s score was surprisingly low, but this is probably the highest score any of these characters will get. Gigan is a heinous individual, a disgusting reprehensible villain that has no interest in redeeming himself. There’s a reason I label my “Half-Life” series as being my darkest, and it’s all because of this guy!