#and is simply repugnant to my soul

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

my brother in christ jefferey dahmer

[pascaloverx]

Hit The Road

Chapter One

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Summary: You are a hunter of supernatural beings who is forced to experience a new reality: being a vampire. The only thing stronger than your thirst for blood is your thirst for revenge.

Author's note: the characters mentioned here were created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec, based on the book series of the same name by author L. J. Smith. They don't belong to me. That said, this fanfic will be short. This fanfic may address scenes of violence, inappropriate language and adult content. Minors should not interact with this story.

"A hunter shouldn't act with the heart instead of the head" said the leader of the hunters' clan, which gathers in a different town every six months. On the other hand, they also say that you shouldn't let a vampire take what's yours without a fight. Here you are, lost in a new town, hoping to find the one who took everything from you without even thinking about the consequences. The cursed one with blue eyes and fangs that can pierce even your soul.

You feel the weight of the leader's words as you wander through the new town, determined to find the blue-eyed vampire who took everything from you. Each step you take is laden with the determination to seek justice and reclaim what was lost. As night falls, you prepare for the impending battle, reminding yourself that as a hunter, your courage and determination are your greatest weapons against the shadows lurking in the darkness. You must kill Damon Salvatore at all costs. But you know you're going against your clan's rules. It's like a double-edged sword. You wound and will be wounded. Your clan is against hunting alone. Well, that's not the only reason your clan doesn't want you around anymore.

"Does anyone know where the hell I can find a man with blue eyes and a pretty shitty sense of humor?" You say as you enter a place called Mystic Grill. This small town seems like the type where everyone knows everyone.

"I think you're looking for Damon Salvatore. May I ask what you want with him?" A tall human with blonde hair speaks to me. He looks strangely ordinary.

"Just some personal matters with him. Nothing major." You reply to the tall blonde human, trying to sound casual despite your true intentions running much deeper. He looks at you for a moment, seemingly assessing your answer, before finally stepping away.

"I think he's big enough to take care of himself, but if you want, I can take you to him." What a kind person this is standing in front of you.

"Would you do me this favor?" You say, trying to feign friendliness, although something inside you has changed significantly. That repugnant vampire has changed you and simply left as if it meant nothing.

"Of course, you seem to need to settle something with him. Just need to grab my coat." The stranger picks up his coat from the chair and heads towards his car. It makes sense why the vampires here get along so well. A friendly face, and humans are already willing to help you. The car ride was quick enough that you didn't have to explain much about the reason for being in Mystic Falls.

"A piece of advice, talk to Stefan if you don't get what you want with Damon. Stefan tends to be more reasonable. Maybe even Elena. Right there at that mansion, you'll find what you're looking for." The man who identified himself as Matt during our journey became increasingly helpful to you.

"I appreciate the advice, and in return, I'll tell you, you should stop being so kind. People in general don't deserve that much kindness, especially people who stopped being human a while ago." You say as you look deeply into his eyes. If he doesn't take vervain, he'll probably take this advice to heart. He looks confused, but you're already in front of a mansion. I guess you've reached your destination. You grab the backpack you brought with you and bid farewell to the human.

You knock once, and there's no answer. How irritating it is to wait for someone to grant you entry. You knock again, still no response. How frustrating. You decide to try once more, knocking on the door with a bit more force. It's when you hear footsteps behind you.

"Can I help you?" Says a man behind you. He's so close that you end up attacking him. He's definitely not human, but he's not Damon either. He falls to the ground, unfazed due to his supernatural nature. I bet he's a vampire. Perhaps he's the reasonable one Matt was talking about.

"I'm sorry, I'm not used to being caught off guard. Need a hand getting up?" You say, reaching out to the stranger who is still on the ground.

"You almost offend me by offering help, but thank you for the consideration. If you don't mind, I'll savor my humiliation a little longer." He replies.

"Is it humiliation because I brought you down, or because you're still on the ground?" You don't want to gloat over other people's misfortunes, but you end up smiling.

"Humiliation because I was brought down, of course." He retorts with a hint of sarcasm.

"Don't feel bad, it happens to the best of us. I heard the more recent the transformation, the more ruthless you become. Or maybe not. Are you sure you don't want help?" You say as you watch him slowly get up. You can bet he hasn't fed in a while.

"You couldn't have come here just to make me fall at your feet, what brought you here?" He says looking at you, it seems like he doesn't find it strange that I talk about vampirism so casually.

"Indeed, it was a man named Matt, but my goal here is to reunite with an old friend." You say as you intertwine your arms in front of your body. He seems to understand.

"What did Damon do this time?" He asks, as if he's already accustomed to seeing people looking for that idiot.

"I hope you won't be upset by what I'm about to do; it's nothing personal. I just need to get his attention and then I'll leave. Once I take from him what he took from me." You say as you take the stake from your backpack and drive it into the man in front of you. There's a bit of vervain on the tip of the stake, enough to incapacitate the vampire before you, but not to kill him. That's why you don't aim for his heart. I'll make Damon come to me no matter what it takes. Get ready, Salvatore. You've messed with the wrong hunter.

[morgana-ren]

If your bastard three (or four) were in BG, what would their journey be like? Who they romancing, who they siding with in the big decisions? Any companions actually sticking with them to the end? Who's getting it on with Harleep??

We already know what Astarion is like! Unless you mean special Nightmare-ascended Astarion.

Well, Reaver is fucking anyone and everyone. Anyone he can. Gale, Shadowheart, Karlach, Withers, doesn't matter. He's going to try his charms on everyone and see who he can get into his bedroll. If they don't go for it, he's spending the evenings at the local tavern or brothel. He's not romancing anyone, but he'll fuck the skin off everyone unless Tav happens to be real fucking special. And I mean real fucking special.

Also, he will not rough it in the wild. Absolutely not. Reaver does not sleep in the dirt on the floor and eat two day old rat. He will not inconvenience himself at all. He's b-lining to the nearest merchant, killing them, amassing wealth, and living as lavishly as possible as quickly as possible. To hell with the tieflings and the grove. To hell with all of it. Get the worm out of his head, he has whores to attend to.

He will immediately retain the drow twins for personal use. And probably most of the whores. Harleep? Oh yeah. Free game. He will ask Harleep to take his form, though. Maybe himself, maybe a female version of himself. Whatever he's feeling at the time.

Raphael would have literally no use for him because he already sold his soul. Reaver would make obnoxious jokes about it and probably annoy Raphael into fucking off. Reaver would rob him anyway and then put an arrow through his eye.

Speaking of, there's no real guns in Baldur's Gate, which will annoy the everloving fuck out of him, but he happens to be a dab hand with a bow and anything else he can throw. He can shoot an arrow through a fly's wings a mile away with complete accuracy every time. It's completely unfair. He can make trivial work of almost anything if it's vulnerable to headshots in any way.

Do not count on him doing the right thing simply because it's the right thing. He would take Gortash's offer up like that if Nightmare wouldn't smack him. If the others bribed him enough, they could get him to do anything. He'd sell out humanity until you pointed out that there'd be no whores or castles or fine foods and wine in a mindflayer world. You have to make it about him and his selfish desires to get him to act in any way. Trying to get him to kill the goblin camp with you or any of the other heroic deeds is a chore. You might be able to bribe him with sex (if sex is what you can call what it would take to get him off his arse-- and into yours) or talk him into it by pointing out that he can rob valuable items and acquire power and prestige.

I think most of the companions beside Astarion would find Reaver absolutely abhorrent and would leave his side. Maybe Lae'zel would stick around-- until he started slaughtering Githyanki left and right because they tried to remove his head. He doesn't brook disrespect, and that would be the final straw.

"Oh, you can't help me? And you're insulting me? Oh, and you're in my way? Time to die! Tatty-bye! Say hello to your repugnant queen for me! Or better yet, don't."

Karlach would get piss poor vibes from him from the get-to and would end up leaving the second he did some abhorrent shit. Same with Wyll. Shadowheart would find him vile but might be a bit more willing to tough it out because he's useful... for a while. Gale finds him repugnant and crass. Astarion and Reaver might actually get on quite well because they have similar senses of humor and motivations.

It might be different if the others were there to rein him in, but Reaver on his own? Wretched company, licentious and vile and utterly self-centered. If you're Tav, he's going to try to sleep with you and sail you down the river the second it's convenient unless he starts to take a liking to you.

Nighty is going to be whoever and whatever will get everyone in the group around his finger. He's a powerful healer and cleric (far more than Shadowheart) so he will be a part of the main group constantly. He refuses to lay about, so he will be coming. Truthfully, he's capable of pretending to be a devout and honest cleric throughout the entire time with no one even having an inkling of the Baneite that lies beneath, but for simplicities sake, let's say he allows himself to truly be himself for one reason or another.

Nightmare is going to probably romance... no one. He will actually really like and respect Wyll, despite the fact that Wyll will be repulsed by him. Karlach won't like him at all but she will remind him of his brother Gehenna, so he's going to be very... weird around her (Gehenna is also a very large red tiefling with one horn who was a fighter for the hells, so Karlach is essentially a female version of him [we love and respect Gege in this house. I adore Gege.]) He is actually interested in Gale but he makes Gale nervous and he finds his morals reprehensible. I think Shadowheart would have a rocky relationship with on theological differences alone. She annoys him and he finds her trite and foolish. Lae'zel respects his strength and would probably make a move on him, but he would dodge that immediately.

(He likes his women soft and clever and spiteful and Lae'zel, simply put, is too brash and strong for him. She's too good for him, frankly.)

As for Tav, it depends per Tav. If Tav met his standards, he's not opposed to... 'starting' something. Sort of. Honestly, it really depends per Tav. Hope for Tav's sake that they don't.

He's immensely powerful and would actually, despite the fact he is wretched, be a massive asset to the group. He can make major confrontations seem like nothing. He's good with a rapier and favors lightning magic. He can heal fatal wounds. He can resurrect without Withers. He's remarkably intelligent and cunning and would be able to plot around anything they couldn't kill. He can actually be encouraged to do things selflessly (for selfish reasons.)

He has a kinship with his race. He would save the grove and act like a father figure to the tieflings (especially the young children) and it is strange for the rest of the group to watch. Suddenly he turns into the most incredible man ever, and it's super uncanny. He would ensure they reached Baldur's Gate safely and make sure they got settled. He would find the children homes and stable lives and make sure they had the money to survive. No more stealing for Mol and the other orphans. He'd see to paying for their education and ensuring their future. Kagha is killed immediately for threatening a child. He doesn't even speak to her. Just electrocutes her to death on the spot.

Same with Raphael once Nightmare sees him speaking to Mol and trying to swindle her soul. He would rip his head clean off his shoulders on the spot, and has the power to do it. That is if he isn't the king of hell. If he is.... Raphael is going to wish he could die.

If there's children involved, he can always be counted on to do 'the right thing.' He's likely to butcher every Sharran he meets because of how they harmed children in Raithewait and the way they are stolen from their loving homes. Their theological differences alone are grounds for death, but Nightmare does not abide child cruelty.

Haarlep is a filthy whore and a succubus, and he doesn't lay with filth. When Nightmare sleeps with someone, they mean something to him usually (not always, but especially in his 'older' age, he's very prudish and strict with his body and morals until he finds someone he wants to abuse for a long time) and the succubus means nothing. Death for Haarlep for daring to proposition him.

He has a fucking gripe with Gortash. If Bane forbids his death, Nightmare will listen, but to put it simply, he is jealous that he was not Bane's chosen. He's going to undermine him every step of the way without deliberately stepping on toes and disobeying orders. The Baneites under Gortash's command, however, would yield to Nightmare.

Basically, things get very complicated because he has a stake in this. His God is behind this whole thing. Once he saw that the Bhaalists and Myrkulites were planning to betray Bane, he would have to act-- and not necessarily in the group's favor. He could be talked into saving the world if it was pointed out to him that the grand design would essentially ruin Bane's apotheosis, because no souls means no God. He is not a fan of mindflayers or their scheme, and wouldn't really give a shit which side, whether it was the emperor or the Gith Comet prince, accomplished it. Only that they did. He will not be becoming part mind flayer.

(Being hailed as a savior and a hero would also stroke his massive ego, so he'd love that.)

Ilya is interesting. He's a bit more subtle than the other two, but a lot of it is because he doesn't care much for the situation. This world is strange and different and he doesn't quite understand it. He would do what he had to to find out what the hell was happening, and then act as he saw fit.

The companions... Well, to put it nicely, he gives them the spooks. He creeps them out. He's beautiful, but there's something off about him. He is soft spoken and respectful but there's just this lingering feeling of dread around him. Like you're sleeping next to a monster in human form. He's too quietly gleeful about battle and blood and for a man that seems so subtle, he's far, far too good at it. He can take over a meeting and plan a masterful strategy, and will just say he's 'good at logistics' when that's obviously bullshit. Anyone with a military background could sniff him out.

Astarion would probably enjoy him on a base level, but would also catch on that something was wrong. He might think to seduce Ilya, but would probably inevitably end up thinking better of it. Ilya might find Shadowheart pretty temporarily, but I feel like she has sharp instincts and would keep far, far away from him. Karlach would notice he reeked of the hells, even if he would never admit it, and she would not trust him.

If any of them did fall for his beautiful face, they would learn very quickly that what he wants in bed isn't what they bargained for, and he is hellish. He prefers someone he can have total control over and can abuse on his whims, so sleeping with the companions is something he'd try to avoid. He might whore around a bit, but it's not quite what he wants, and it doesn't scratch the itch. He demands to be obeyed and treated like a prince-- because he is one. Most of them aren't submissive enough for him, and he cannot break them as they are of use. He'd fuck concubines or whores to keep from getting pent up, but he would be counting the days until he could do what he wanted. Sex and pleasure in general is a big motivator for Ilya, so part of getting all of this overwith is getting back to his normal life.

The most likely is Tav (depending per Tav) and if he took an interest, he would keep an eye on her and try to worm his way in throughout the journey, and try to keep her attention and admiration, but she wouldn't get to know the real Ilya until it was too late and he had her isolated and under his thumb. He's a devil and remarkably crafty, so he would make himself seem essential to her and get her in a position where she needed his help-- even if he had to orchestrate that situation himself. He would manipulate her slowly throughout the journey and act once all the companions had dispersed. Doesn't need them getting in the way.

He's fine with roughing it in the wilds with the group. It reminds him of his youth. He knows a lot about survival and crafting, but he would still insist on his robes and jewelry. You'll find him brushing his long hair every morning before painstakingly braiding it and tucking it beneath his trademark hat. He washes his robe every evening and is very tidy with his things. He keeps books around for mental stimulation and would often try to make conversation with the others, although the topics would be strange and almost clinical and methodic.

He's very good with most weapons and also quite good with magic. His magic is hellish and powerful so he'd have to rein it in or else people would start asking questions. He'd favor a spear and would keep a bow handy, but usually he would prefer stealth. He'll hurl a spell or seven if the whim hits him, but to keep others from asking uncomfortable questions, he'd try to stick mostly to weapons. He'd probably claim to be a charismatic arcane trickster, but Gale would end up calling bullshit because no rogue is capable of those spells.

His loyalty is currently to the hells, so since this entire affair throws a stick in their cogs, he would need to ensure the entire plot was destroyed. The last thing he wants is all mortals turned into mind flayers, because then he's out of a job and no longer going to live the cushy life he craves. He'll do what he needs to do to clean this whole mess up, but much like Reaver, you're really going to have to bribe him if you want him to go out of his way. Yes, sure, he will help the tieflings or whatever. Yes, we can blow up moonrise, my dear. Let us hurry to Baldur's Gate, simply kill this Gortash and Orin and be done with it.

He would know Raphael on a first name basis, and would commend his whole little effort to overthrow the arch devils. Whether or not he ruins that plot depends on what he feels is going to benefit him. If he thinks his life will be better with Raphael in charge (or Raphael offers him something worth it) he would keep out of his way. Ilya doesn't want the throne of hell. He just wants to enjoy his little pleasures on the mortal plane and be left mostly alone. If Raphael would allow that, he might even work with him.

He would fuck Haarlep. Easy. Ilya likes succubuses from time to time. He prefers mortals, but giving that his pickings are slim, he would have Haarlep turn into a weepy, soft mortal girl and oblige him for a few hours. I hope Raphael has handcuffs and chains and other... paraphernalia. If he doesn't, that's fine. Ilya brought his own.

Ultimately, Ilya is going to enjoy his little 'vacation' and think of the whole thing very lazily. Once he finds a way to rid himself of the parasite, he's going to wrap it up and settle everything back down nice and neat before disappearing into the ether. Unless, of course, there's something else he wants on Faerun.

[insidemyrottenbrain]

My untitled try at a gothic short story

My late, imbecile father has left behind two things for which I’m grateful. First is the castle, which I have the pleasure of calling my home. It is a pleasant estate, sitting upon vast lands, full of twisted hallways and a generous number of rooms, filled with paintings, historical priceless artifacts, and anything else one could wish to be seen as a true intellectual. However, I must state that by simply owning them, one does not stop being a complete dunce. So was the case of my dear father. All my childhood, I watched him conduct one dull scientific experiment after another. This repetitive cycle, as you can imagine, made me deeply dread insipidity. Thus, the second good thing, deriving from his monotony, is my profound passion for the unusual.

My precious castle also has an undercroft in which I tend to store the atypical things that society deems ungentlemanly. For example, I have an enchanting collection of eyes: brown caramel eyes, blue icy ones, a single pair of rare emerald green, and everything in between. I simply cannot wait for the world to stop being so very rigid and finally embrace beauty in its purest form. However, my current interest lies in something more abstract, namely, is the soul the one that powers the body, or is it the heart, the brain, and so on?

I chained my subject to the operating table.

“Dad,” said he, “what are you doing?”

“A mere experiment.” I was cleaning my tools. An infected body is of no use.

I pressed down and cut. The subject screamed in misery. He begged me to stop, and his body shook and arched against my steady, professional hands. But I couldn’t, not when the experiment wasn’t concluded. I despise leaving things unfinished. His shrieks, full of horrid hopelessness, continued to fill my ears for the next few minutes. Suddenly, he stopped, and I could finally enjoy working in silence.  

The vivisection went surprisingly well—no whinings or tears for the second half, not even a single complaint. I inspected the thoracic cavity with great attention. He was a magnificent subject: organs so healthy I would have kept them for myself if I didn’t know any better.

The heart was still beating. Good. The subject was still alive. I began the utmost important stage of my experiment:

“You are a failure,” I told the boy. “Nothing but a waste of air.”

I needed to break his soul beyond recognition to find the answer I sought. And what better way to do that than to utter the most vile things that could come out of a father’s mouth towards his son? 

I leaned in and whispered into the patient’s ear.

“I never loved you.”

The vivisection turned into an autopsy, the subject into a corpse. I lost all passion I had for it. Something about an exposed heart that has stopped beating is repugnant to me. But seeing it squirm and struggle to keep its host alive is truly unusual, as it is magnificent.

I deemed the little experiment complete, and as a bonus, I got rid of the struggle that had been with me for 8 years. Nevertheless, I feel as if my question has not yet gotten a fulfilling answer. Further investigations are required.

[heartscfvalor]

A Few More Headcanons for My Lilith; do not reblog

Her singing voice is similar to Lana Del Ray. It's just ethereal and haunting, there's no other accurate way to describe it. Think this song.

She has a curious way of speaking, in which it sounds a bit...posh? Proper? She's the type of person who thinks before she speaks almost every time, she rarely ever curses unless she's truly angry or worked up.

Lilith is not naturally monogamous, though she has nothing against people who are. Love, to her, is just an encompassing, overwhelming emotion and it deserves to be shared in any way possible. She's had many crushes over the centuries, though Lucifer has always been her greatest romantic love, while Charlie holds her heart eternally as her only child. (That will not stop her from loving any children she could potentially adopt, of course. Just for the main verse, since Charlie is their only daughter, Lilith dotes on her girl the most).

She does not know where the rumors came from, the ones that claim she eats babies. She adores babies. She adores all children, she believes they need to be protected and educated in order to grow into well adjusted adults. Most of the Sinners who come to Hell didn't have a good support system and that led them down a dark road, and she sympathizes.

Not to say she loves all Sinners. There have been more and more that are simply repugnant. She despises people who hurt the innocent.

Despite Lucifer being the King of Hell, by the time he becomes a shut in, Lilith is the one running the realm. They have been equal partners since they Fell, and that has never changed, but most Sinners in Pride respect Lilith way more than they respect Lucifer or Charlie, and that irks Lilith to no end.

My Lilith rarely makes demon deals. She only does so if she feels she has no other choice.

For my Lilith, she has been kidnapped and poisoned by Roo over a century before the timeline of Haz.bin; she's been trapped in the Void, until Alastor arrives, and it takes seven years for them to escape it together. Since Lilith is weakened by her imprisonment and the poison still coursing through her body, she makes a deal with Alastor to keep Charlie safe, no matter the cost. She does not abuse or mistreat Alastor in any way, however; she knows treating her contracted souls with care will make them more compliant with her wishes, and she doesn't want to cause unnecessary pain. (For any Alastors who headcanon he's contracted by Roo, please disregard this, we don't have to do this part of my portrayal!)

Roo has been masquerading as Lilith, causing Charlie and Lucifer to be torn apart, and making my Lucifer feel like Lilith no longer loves him, as she's made him think that "Lilith" has turned cold before disappearing. My Lilith will be devastated to hear of this; she gave up everything for Lucifer. Abandoning him was the last thing she's ever wanted to do, and it causes her pain to be apart from him for so long.

[arcade-conspiracy]

Inherently Bad

Angst, Fluff

Jack Rose/Mihaly (platonic or romantic)

TW: Negative self talk, references to a controlling parent

A/N: Enjoy my venting through Jack, babes this is why I don’t write anymore : )

Jack Rose was a villain. At least that’s what he was always told he was. Anyone who knew of his mother could conclude that. The assumption that all he did was harm people wasn’t an uncommon one, and to him, it made sense why.

He tried his best to be a good person, of course. To do what he could to make things easier for the ones his mother hurt. To ease the lives of those that listened to his music, and came to see him perform. He tried to be a positive force in every way he could, but he knew that wasn’t exactly enough. Attempting to be a good person doesn’t always translate into actually being one.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that there would always claws be on his shoulder. He couldn’t get rid of the shadow looming behind him, whispering instructions in his ear. He felt like everything he did was corrupt. That all of his actions would be in her image, making him inherently evil, no matter how hard he tried to go against what she wanted. As if the blood he carried was cursed, simply because it attached him to her.

He was thinking deeply about this at the moment, unintentionally, that is. Here he was, still sitting in a room at the danceverse prince’s house, not knowing what to do next. All he’d done since arriving here was brood, barely even leaving the room that wasn’t technically his. It had been months since Nightswan was even seen last, and yet he still felt horrid. He could have ruined everyone’s lives. Being reminded of it sent a chill down his spine.

He couldn’t focus while around his friends, he was too busy making sure he didn’t hurt or offend them. Hence the isolating in this bedroom. He couldn’t have a single conversation without the urge to apologize creeping up his neck. He wanted to explain, he wanted to remind them every chance he got that he was remorseful, that he was trying to be a good person now. He couldn’t flat out tell them what he wanted to, he knew it was getting excessive, but he couldn’t act like everything was normal either.

He had already done everything but grovel at their feet in forgiveness and he still couldn’t shake this feeling of guilt. The feeling that he was doing something wrong by being around at all.

He felt dirty, tainted. Like the words he heard from his mother seeped into his brain. Like he needed to scratch dried blood off of his soul. Like the many scorching showers he’d taken in the aftermath just didn’t get him clean, as what needed scrubbing wasn’t his skin. Like his own dna was repugnant, and he couldn’t escape it if he tried.

He hurt people, badly. He helped enslave them, he ruined lives. His mothers plans tore apart danceverses, and tore apart families. Though, she didn’t get nearly as far as she had hoped, she caused irreparable damage. Peoples brains and bodies were altered, borderline destroyed, by her actions. And he helped her do it.

He should have done something about it, he thought. There’s nothing saying he couldn’t have changed anything. If he hasn’t just sat around in his own misery, maybe things would have been different. Maybe his mother would be dead, but that would mean so many others would still be alive. In the end he was simply too weak to even try.

He didn’t realize what a spiral he was in, nor did he realize he was crying, until he heard a soft knock on the door. Not done by a fist but rather a few fingers, it was obvious who was on the other end. He scrambled to get everything situated, quickly smoothing out the blanket he was previously sitting on, but not before wiping his face with it. “Coming!” Jack barked, not meaning to come off as annoyed as he did.

He shook his head to come to a bit, before opening the door. As expected, Mihaly was behind it. No one else exactly knocks the way they do. They immediately looked confused the moment they layed eyes on him, which caused Jack to pull his own confused face back. He apparently didn’t do much of a good job or drying his face, so to Mihaly, it was clear something was up.

“Is there a reason you’re hiding up in here?” They said blankly, not stepping into the room or even moving closer. Their flat tone almost sounded accusatory but Jack knew that wasn’t it. It was more urgent than anything.

“I didn’t realize I was hiding!” He joked, opening the door further to usher Mihaly in. He sat down on the bed, expecting them to sit next to him, but they just stayed sanding, still looking a bit skeptical with their hands in their shirt pocket. He just stared right back.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” They looked over him again. Jack had his shoulders up to his ears, his hands picking at his fingers rather than the normal tugging of the sequins on his suit. His lips were sealed tight together, as if he was clenching his teeth. Something was off, he was just concealing it well. At least as well as he could.

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t been out, I’ve just been feeling kinda down on myself. Trying to figure out if I’m as bad of a person as I feel, I guess” He chuckled, speaking nonchalantly. As if this was general knowledge, or workplace banter. As if Mihaly was going to just agree with him, or give him some lighthearted tips on how to improve himself.

“Jack Rose, you are not bad. Why would you think you’re bad?” They gasped, their hands removing from their pockets and glueing themselves to their sides. Their eyes went wide, filing through their brain for any reason that he would think so lowly of himself. He was such a strong individual? Why would he think like that?

“Because I hurt people, so many people.” He paused. Disregarding the fact that he was still wearing shoes, he adjusted how he was sitting, pulling a knee up to his chest. His arms clutched around it, still looking up at his friend as if he hadn’t moved at all. “I’m nothing like the rest of you, I don’t exactly deserve to be here.”

“I can’t find a single reason why you shouldn’t be here. You’re on our side, aren’t you?”

“Well yeah, but it’s not like just because I’m on the ‘good side’ that makes me good.” He shrugged, looking more defeated than anything. He gestured a hand at Mihaly, feeling the tears well up in his eyes now that he was thinking on the topic again. “You- You guys are righteous. You’re absolutely incredible. I’m not like that!”

Mihaly tried to bud in, but he just kept going, now waving his hand as he was speaking. “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen. You haven’t knowingly hurt people when you knew you- you could probably do something to stop it. The four of you are heroes, I almost perpetuated the downfall of the danceverse.”

As he tried to think of words, the waterworks fell over, as much as he tried to stop it from happening. The nails on Jacks other hand were digging into his leg so bad they’d have to leave marks. He truly felt this way about himself, that his past actions could never be forgiven. That no matter the circumstances, he must be corrupt. He let his eyes avert from them, leaning his forehead against his friend, he already felt bad for dragging them into this conversation but he kept going. “I am inherently a bad person, Mihaly. No one would forgive me for this.”

“Well, luckily I am nobody!” Mihaly joked, sending a comforting smile towards him. “You are absolutely forgiven. Not just by me, but I’m sure Brezziana and Wanderlust share the same sentiment. If Sara was here, she absolutely would agree too.” They looked determined, gently running a hand over his shoulder, closely watching for any sign the contact might not be okay.

“But why? My mother almost destroyed your home, and successfully destroyed so many others. I willingly helped her, you realize that, right?” Jack looked up at them, eyebrows knit together in confusion. He didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand. If he was in his friends position, there’s no way he could have even thought about trusting him. After everything, what does he have to offer? “Nothing can change the lives I’ve ruined,, as much as you think im a good person, I’m just not. You’ve been deceived.”

They just stared at him blankly, motioning for him to move in order for them to sit on the bed too. Mihaly looked over at him, head cocked like a dog processing instructions. Their hands clasped together, sitting in their lap.

“You have not deceived anyone. This is truly who you are, you’re not evil. Why would I lie?”

Jack sighed, letting his head hang again. “I just don’t- I can’t process why anyone would even want to be in the same room as me, let alone why you guys would be friends with me.”

Mihaly thought for a moment, adjusting the way they were sitting so their knees were under them. It made them a smidge taller, and allowed them to face his direction better. “Listen to me. Would you have done everything you did if you weren’t under the influence of Nightswan?”

He went silent.

Would he have? He had free will as it was, he could have rebelled at any moment, right. Some part of him must have liked it, if he kept it going for so long, right?. But if his mother was never in the picture, he would have never even thought about harming people the way he had. He would have been touring or writing music this whole time instead, right?

“I- I don’t know.” He admitted, staring off at the wall, intentionally avoiding looking at Mihaly. He knew what look they were going to have on their face. The same one they wear when they’re right about the culprit in Clue, or Wanderlust messes up a recipe they told him he was doing wrong. For better or worse, they knew what they were talking about most of the time, it was just difficult to believe.

“Well I for one don’t think you’d do anything you’ve done if she wasn’t your parent.” They were being as genuine as they possibly could, and hoped that Jack could feel it. They knew it wasn’t always easy to tell when things were serious if they were talking. “You have done nothing but good since I have met you.”

The boy wiped his face, trying in vain to stop himself from crying anymore. He didn’t want to look at them when he was in such a state. He knew it was fine, he knew this was just how he was feeling, but something about this entire situation felt wrong to him. Like even talking about this concern made him a bad person. He was being self aware, he thought he could fix it himself. No one else was supposed to know, because he knew it would just worry the others.

He took a shaky breath, attempting with everything in him to believe what they were saying. He tried to process it, internalize it without that shock of immediate denial running down his spine. Even as he replayed what they said in his head, it just couldn’t slip past those feathery barriers in his brain that point out every flaw he had.

“I don’t know if I can believe you right now,,” he eventually spat through grit teeth, still just staring forward, the hand not around his leg now gripping the comforter under them. He didn’t know what he was doing, being so honest about everything. It was something about Mihaly that made you trust them, even if you’ve just met. It was something so special about them, he just wished that magic wasn’t in effect in times like these. Where he wanted to share just too much information than another person should have to carry.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to right now.” They draped their arms around Jack’s shoulders. The two sat for a second until they felt a sob shake his body. It took everything in them not to shush him, but they were afraid that might be a bit much at the moment. “Just know that you are priceless. We couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

They sat in silence, while Jack cried. He eventually let himself lean into their hug, dropping his foot back to the floor. They let out a sigh of relief, happy that he was accepting the comfort. The two stayed this way for a moment, until Jack felt comfortable enough to look Mihaly in the eyes again, at least.

“Apologies for just dumping this on you.” He said, a chuckle behind his voice. He attempted to wipe his face with the edge of his sleeve, shrugging at his previous statement.

Mihaly just kept their soft expression, holding back from the lecture they could be giving. He didn’t have to apologize, he should have talked to someone sooner. “You’re cool. Do you want to come out with the others? We were thinking of getting ice cream.” They smiled.

[fipindustries]

regular gripe about how the mindset, attitude and type of person i find most repugnant of all is that of the conspiracy theorist.

like its so obviously motivated thinking, its so evidently spurious, its so obviously wrong, its such a clearly disengenious form of epistemics, such a frivolous appeal to evidence and reason and just because they say the right words making it sound like theyre rigorous (they're not) it has to be entertained, it cant simply be discarded for the clear bullshit that it is or you are made to look unreasonable.

i hate it with my entire heart and mind and soul

[charles-hammer-iiixxviixxiii]

actually you know what charles? actually fucking do it, kys. kil yo self. for real harles. I'm sick of doing the fucking show wit you, you keep hitting me and the editors on set. I'm going to have them delete the newest WIP to the newst BAA video, then I'm going to delte the channel. I'm firing you and myself. I cant takt tahtis shitt anymore youure faukfucking assholes to fucking asshole yo ytoeveryone on the set an you hit me and scuntysty,. FUCK YOU. LIST OF SHIT YOU HAVE DONE: you joed about garths death, you killd my dawg, you have stabbed me repedately on set, you puked whine vomit all over me,. this despicable display of workplace abuse has reached its breaking point, and i simply cannot bear it any longer. the sheer torment that i am forced to endure day in and day out has left me utterly sickened. my cries for help fall upon deaf ears, for there is no one to turn to, no one to seek solace from. yours is a wicked hand that has systematically driven away every single soul that once stood by me, repelled by the ugliness that emanates from your very being. yes, i dare to speak it aloud, your visage is a grotesque embodiment of ugliness. YOU ARE FUCKING GROTESQUE. YOU PIECE OF SHIT UGLY HOG IM GLAD YOUR MOMIE DIED! AND YOUR DAD TOO... AND IM HAPPY THE ANOMALY HAPPENED SO YOU CANT REMEMER SHIT..

THAT YEAR, THE YEAR OF THE ANOMALY, OH HOW IT WAS THE PINNACLE OF MY EXISTENCE, IT SHIMMERED WITH AN EXTRAORDINARY BRILLIANCE, UNRIVALED BY ANY OTHER CHAPTER IN MY JOURNEY THROUGH THIS VAST TAPESTRY OF LIFE. IT DANCED AND SWIRLED WITH UNTAMED JOY. AND YOU, YOU REPUGNANT MONSTER, YOU WERE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND AMIDST ITS RESPLENDENCE. YOU, WHO HAD NO PART IN THE SYMPHONY OF MY TRIUMPHS, NOR THE TENDER WHISPERS OF MY VICTORIES.

FOR IN THOSE 12 MONTHS OF PURE ENCHANTMENT, MY HEART SOARED WITH A SENSE OF FREEDOM LIKE NEVER BEFORE. UNTETHERED FROM THE WEIGHT OF YOUR INFLUENCE, I REVELED IN A WORLD SET ABLAZE BY NEWFOUND POSSIBILITIES. I BASKED IN THE RADIANCE OF MY OWN ACCOMPLISHMENTS, UNBURDENED BY THE SHADOWS YOU ONCE CAST UPON MY SOUL. YOU SEE, AMID THE SYMPHONY OF LIFE'S GRAND ORCHESTRATION, YOU WERE A MERE AFTER THOUGHT, YOU BECAME A VOID THAT ALLOWED MY SPIRIT TO FLOURISH IN UNPARALLELED MAGNIFICENCE. FREED FROM THE SHACKLES OF YOUR PRESENCE, I SOARED TO GREAT HEIGHTS, TASTING THE SWEET ELIXIR OF DREAMS REALIZED AND AMBITIONS EMBRACED.

EVERY TRIUMPH ETCHED ITS MARK UPON THE VERY ESSENCE OF MY BEING, REMINDING ME THAT I, ALONE, COULD FORGE MY OWN DESTINY. EVERY LAUGH, EVERY TEAR, EVERY EXHILARATING HEARTBEAT SPOKE VOLUMES ABOUT A LIFE ENRICHED BY EXPERIENCES UNMARRED BY YOUR BEING. THEN IT STOPPED AND YOU CAME BACK ANDYOU RUINED MY LIFE

OH, HOW ECSTATICALLY I EMBARKED ON THIS MAJESTIC JOURNEY CALLED LIFE, WEAVING A COLORFUL TAPESTRY OF ACCOMPLISHMENTS, FRIENDSHIPS, AND LOVE UNADULTERATED BY THE DARKNESS THAT ONCE CLOUDED OUR CONNECTION. I STOOD TALL UPON THE MOUNTAINTOPS OF ACHIEVEMENT, MY SPIRIT AFLAME WITH THAT DIVINE SPARK THAT IGNITES PASSIONATE SOULS.

Ok fartface

Look how many coins I have

[perfectlytremendousbananasposts]

When I talk about love, I lace it with loathing

Love simply doesn't exist in this world

The novelists have their way with words

So do poets and lyricists

But those words are a bitter lie

Choking me at midnight

Now it's my turn for seven circles

As he stains my pure ivory soul

I'll prepare for the disappointments

Forgotten birthdays and anniversaries

Sick jokes about my domineering ways

Couple of laughs later he's a comedian

Miserably turning my sacrifices

Into a laughter debacle and I'm just too soft

And weak for not laughing at all.

Love simply doesn't exist in this world

Last year they wed in a lush forest

Now they live apart in a bustling city

I watch how he mocks her,

Putting her down so he can get a rise out of it

And one day, perhaps I'll have to endure it

My little one will watch me wither

As he breaks me down in the name of love

And I'll helplessly endure

Like mothers before me

Because love simply doesn't exist in this world

Late at night when I dream of her lips

I'll muster every bit of repugnance

To squash that pretty dream

Every lovely word I've stitched to her name

I'll rip them apart at seams

Because, love simply doesn't exist in this world

Don't pick the petals apart,

The roses, the kisses, the words

Are just a standard procedure

Nothing personal,

Because love simply doesn't exist around here.

-Rach

[disruptxrr]

Not to be all morbid or depressing, but do you ever feel like its fate or destiny to take your life at some point? Like you are on an unstoppable train with one stop, suicide? Sorry if this is wrong to ask

it's not, don't worry. sometimes it can really get to feel that way... i mean, you look back upon your life and realize that everything from the beginning has been a mistake. if you think too much about it you eventually end up thinking you are a mistake—an aberration of sorts. you wish, not that you could kill yourself, but that you could erase any trace of you ever existing because the mere thought of your existence makes you feel repugnant. feels like everything you do, no matter how hard you try not to, is fuck up everything over and over again, to the point where it feels like it's the only thing you are allowed to do... but answering your question (and this is gonna sound SO fucked up...) sometimes i get so lost inside my own head that i don't know what is 'real' & i start to think about life... suicide, to be more specific. sometimes, i think life is like some sort of game. they put you here & give you a set of rules that teach you how to play. everyone with a brain knows that they should follow said rules. but what if those rules were put there to deceive you? what if we are all already dead trying to make it out of this place called hell? what if everything is a lie? they make everyone think things like suicide are wrong but what if that's all part of a big elaborate plan? suicide is their way of separating the ones who deserve to truly awaken in peace. the ones who wait for death to come on it's own lose themselves in the process. they decide to live in ignorant bliss until one day it's gone along with their soul and anything that ever made them "human", they are reduced to dust & memories that soon will die too. maybe suicide is the only right option, maybe some people were born to die. maybe it should be your choice instead of the choice of something else... i don't think some people were "destined to take their life at some point" i think some people are simply born smart enough to dare themselves to think about it. a select few are capable enough of actually taking and going through with that decision. no one really knows what happens out there. we like to tell ourselves that this is real life, that real happiness is here, that it is something achievable... but what the fuck do we know? that's like saying america is the best country in the world without ever being in any other country in your life. what if all of this is just bullshit? mind numbing bullshit that tries to keep you quiet and asleep? how can you tell if any of it is real?

don't take this too seriously, i'm just ranting at this point... but thanks for asking (i'm sorry if i freaked any of my mutuals out with this, i swear i'm okay + i'm sorry if this didn't really answer your question, anon...)

[alleyjunk]

love makes me sick. it makes me want to vomit. i see it and i retch and i heave and its almost too much to bear and one of these days that disgusting bile will foam its way to the top of my throat and dribble down my face in nasty green trails because swallowing something as grotesque and disgusting as envy every single day simply isnt healthy. one of these days i will throw it all up and it will be embarassing and repugnant to whatever poor souls have to witness such a shameful act

[omaticwriting]

Fears- Book 1: Awakening [Chapter 7-A new Day after a long night]

TW! Violence, Gore, Injury, Fire related injury, body horror - Nicolas opened his eyes. His fury for the abomination that consumed him whole was simply bubbling just beneath his calm facade, his expression struggling to hide his total destain for the creature that ate him.

“Thank you, Willa” he spoke in a feigned cold and lifeless tone, and yet his expression showed one of gratitude, he had a real friend in a trying time as this, is not something he’d take for granted, and he didn't plan to now.

“Uhh, anytime, Nic?” Willa manages to utter from her confused stupor. This was something she didn’t imagine happening, not one bit. And yet here she was, her face lit with a potent concoction of awe and mutual reverence by the sight of his current actions. Just what happened to him before she came here? and better yet what could he do. "Hey Nicolas" She spoke, still a winded from her exertion, his gaze met hers as a wild smirk of bared teeth grew, each one sharper than the last in an unspoken pact of mutual animosity "do what you gotta do, I'll be right beside ya".

Nicolas smirked back and nodded with determined vigor before he stared at Visera who was having none of this nonsense that appeared before her, their sharp teeth laid bare for the duo while letting a low growl that almost rumbled the earth. “You...” he spoke to the abomination in front of him in an almost abrupt tone “Bloody. abomination.” his teeth clenched to the point of cracking “I’m ready for round two!” Plumes of smoke and embers ruptured from the gaps between his mouth.

Each step left a trail of flames, each one heavier than the last. His breath exudes flame with every intake of breath.

“O one of flames, I hallowed in thy name” he prayed whilst taking another step. Tendrils sprung froth from Visera at alarming speeds, her rage now at its peak whilst he continued his prayer "Grant me strength to decimate my foes asunder". Each attack done by Visera was repugnant of lust and insatiable hunger for the teen before them, each tendril barbed and aimed for his chest, and yet did little to deter Nicolas "Fuel me with the wrath and animosity to tare all who oppose me into the winds and bring the world a barren asunder" "Allow me to unleash my fury on all that I see so that I may satisfy my own eternal flame" Each tendril burned to ash while he spoke, each faster and less far than the last.

"Allow my fire to rival that of the underworld itself and burn the very soul" He kneeled before Visera clasping his hands with a vice-like grip, it was almost insulting to the abomination as it let out an enraged roar.

"FOR." Visera let out one last attack, be it out of frustration for his actions or desperation to actually hit Nicolas remains unsaid as the abomination gathered enough mass to hammer Nicolas into the ground.

"I." Its speed was almost blinding to the eye as Visera's expression became overwhelmed with bloodlust.

"AM." Willa reached out to Nicolas, and even with her faith in what he planned to do she didn't exactly like the thought of it failing and seeing him splattered on the ground, while Ellisa patiently waited for a twist in Visera's arrogant fate.

"YOURS." was the last he spoke, the weighted mass engulfed itself in flames mere moments before even landing on a single snow-white hair.

At that moment, the abomination reeled and pulled their burning mass away, for a foreign feeling washed upon her very being, screaming at him to pull away and avoid danger.

that feeling was pain.

—

In realms far beyond mortals, the pyre grew restless, a single flicker and sputter, not similar to a candle in the wind. Its movement echoed through the realm, agitating, hungering, ravenously wanting its prize as its desires affected the souls in its possession, causing each to stir and agitate with each move of the flame.

Its hunger for more fuel ate away at the divine winter body it found itself on. Forcing the divine to stir and creek in its catatonic state.

—

Nicolas’ eyes slowly turned to a milky-white hue, with each praise to the divine flame, he grew more agitated as his anger for retribution grew, the smoke venting through his mouth grew more intense before each exhale jetted out smoke, then ember, and finally flame.

The air around Nicolas felt as if a great furnace had been lit, each second the heat grew more intense than it was previously, and before long he was consumed by the flames, and what remained to stare at the abomination of flesh, with unbridled malice.

His posture was hunched, with each part of his body nearly burnt away to the point of bone. His skin was charcoal black, with each twitch of his joints cracked and clicked, with skin dust flaking away like burnt wood.

His eyes glowed with malice and vitriol hidden behind a veil of pure white, whilst his hair became a charcoal black as it smoldered away in the fire.

His arms doubled in length and ended with hands, though spindly were twice the size before burning, each finger flaking ash and embers, yet were thinner than needles and sharper than any blade that could be found, as his lips and cheeks burned away to reveal the row of jagged and pitch black teeth.

The burnt beast that used to be Nicolas stared at Visera with an ever-burning contempt for its existence, his teeth chattered whilst a lowly growl left their mouth.  

He opened his mouth, but the lack of muscles to restrict much of his movements caused his jaw to reach to his neck with a near-dangerous speed, before releasing an ear-piercing and sacrilegious mixture between a howl and a scream. Its sound mimicked the screams of the damned as it echoed through the forests and beyond, carrying its ever-burning and unending malice through the heavens and the hells.

"I'll..." he spoke. his voice echoed and reverted before finishing his threat, his rage reflecting the fire that once consumed him "I'LL BURN YOU DOWN TO ASH!"

Looking at Visera once again, he sped into a near-predatory sprint, their eyes showing a maddening fixation. The abomination had little time to react before the ceaseless searing sensation of fire connected to its flesh. 

The smell of burnt flesh permeated through the clearing as Nicolas tore Visera piece by piece, each wad of flesh that came to contact with his hands burned away into lifeless ashes in an instant, and he showed almost no sign of ceasing.

Almost.

Ichor doused his flames, taking much longer for the flesh in his grasp to burn, even if by a small margin whilst tendrils, wrapping, pinning, and piercing, onto his faux fragile body, restraining what remained of his once human form as he struggled, thrashed and screamed forth from the abominations carnal chains as a cycle of burning and retaining had formed.

 Willa and Elissa could only watch, be it awe, confusion, or reverence at the events unfolding as pitch-black smog and embers erupted from within the opening Nicolas had burrowed into the abomination. The tormented and defiant screams of Visera followed by the wrathful and animalistic howls of Nicolas melded into a cocophonistic-forge of sound as if it were the gods themselves screaming from within.

Now out of her fatigued state, Willa spent no time watching the battle and ran to the fleshy advisory, she wouldn’t simply observe while her friend struggled in its horrendous grasp, especially when she too wants to help settle her own score for the attack the abomination did to her.

Trying once more to gain hold of her newfound power, the winds began to match her already determined mood as debris flew to her arms, similarly donning a pair of wind-clad gauntlets. Her familiar green outline, now an iridescent aura, shined way as if a lone star gave way through the cloudy underbrush to reveal the adrift and indentured to freedom.

“HEY!” she yelled to the wretched sentient mound of flesh before her, watching as they turned their attention to her with pained annoyance as a combination between a pained wince and a wrathful scowl was forlorn on its featureless expression “LET!” she cocked her hand. The wind surrounding it spun at a faster rate while condensing to her fist as she barked  “GO!” before performing a wind-empowered sucker punch to the opening Nicolas made, sending a concentrated maelstrom down her friend's path.

The Wind tore through the restraints that bound Nicolas alongside the damage to Visera themself as the fire inside grew from orange to blue.

Avoiding tendrils be it flight or phasing through, Willa closed the gap between her and the abomination before performing a gale-imbued sucker punch to Visera's side.

Whatever flesh and bone in the area where Willa’s fist collided began to tear and twist with the wind at a fast rate, seemingly easily tearing a tissue paper and as messy as grinding stone. Flesh, bone, sinew, and ichor spun alongside the wind’s debris before rocketing away in all directions as another hole began was made into Visera's mass, staining her favorite sweater in the process from both gore and the sudden gust of blue ember.

It would take a miracle to get the stains off, much less the smell and the possible explanation her parents will have when she gets home, but that’s something she wouldn’t think about now as each punch is drilled and carved deeper into Visera.

Sweat began to pour from the heat of the flame as brilliance struck Willa. Flying into Visera she began to search for Nicolas, for the end was at hand.

For the duo, it was an opportunity for payback and well-deserved retribution. For the abomination, it was no short of torture. The feeling of helplessness against what she would normally see as mere mobile morsels, her prey… was humbling in a divine way, yet felt all the more humiliating for it.

She would not have it go on.

Their sense of duty…her status as this branch’s abomination, and most of all her pride would not let her idly take this unjust repentance any further.

Her surface became a shell of bone, each section barbed with shards of accursed ivory. Tendrils flailed with feral ferocity, slicing, crushing, and tearing anything unfortunate in their wake but soon all fell still, the flying lunar-bound pest was gone, and the heat ceased, had she won?

…

A geyser of flame burst forth from within Visera, then another, and another, the heat blasting from thin them was stronger thousands fold.

It felt as if the very sun erupted from within her, and their agony was as palpable as their screams.

Another scream followed suit as the burnt and deranged form of Nicolas erupted to the surface. His anger still explosive before their personal hell, screaming twice the abominations volume, he began to claw and gash recklessly, as an all too familiar wild breeze dried any ichor on him alongside heating it further. 

So that’s what had happened in her moment of pyrrhic peace. 

Visera could only scream as whatever remaining eye that wasn't burnt by Nciolas’ flames or gouged out by his claws bore witness to the brutality as their very being was mercilessly turned to ash.

And in a brief moment, both sides of the planet were day.

Nicolas opened his eyes, the rage within him now left to smolder as confusion took its place. the forest trees swaying peacefully in the twilight despite the burn, wind, and fleshy-induced damage caused.

Much to his surprise, all of it was confined to the area near the base of the dark church.

“Hey,” spoke a familiar person, her voice sounded somewhat winded, though it could be worse if he felt honest ‘Willa?’ he mouthed. His voice was almost below a whisper, and his throat felt too strained from his near ceaseless screaming, leaving him barely able to speak.

“Down here, you git” Looking down, Willa was beneath him, carrying him on her own shoulders as she gave a cheeky grin.  “Glad to see ya back from all that crazy stuff” Her cheery tone was slowly becoming more of confusion and worry, and her expression slowly became straight “…what happened?” 

‘It’s a very long story’ he whispered…his voice hadn’t fully recovered and was in critical need of water. At least he got his message across, judging by how he saw Willa change her expression to one of understanding, her nod confirming his theory…he felt too tired to see everything other than his own two eyes, thank the gods. Though he wondered if they 

“I’m impressed. You survived” Elissa stood up as she spoke. Clapping her hands in condescendingly, she approached the two whilst kicking off the ashen remains of Visera “Normally I would have considered you condemned the moment the battle of Visera began,” she half-heartedly lamented “But you proved to be more durable than expected tonight, acolyte" she spoke with respect before handing Nicolas a fruit.

The fruit was of bronze color, and its shape was of a spiked sphere, taking a bite, and the sweet taste flooded his mind as vigor rushed immediately through him while passing it to Willa "Keep it up and I may consider referring you by your birth-given name” she gave a somewhat hint of a smile.

Yet it felt more like a placated facade than anything genuine to the duo, at least her gestures spoke volumes than her words.

By this point, Nicolas was simply tired, and more than merely physically fatigued. He merely wanted to leave and nodded his head, though Willa looked at her with a hint of confusion and disgust. Elissa simply dismissed her existence as she picked up what appeared to be a wad of writhing flesh.

“Hm. shame, you didn’t fully incinerate Visera” she offhandedly commented before tossing the wad to the duo, who by this point now stood side by side as the remains of the abomination landed firmly on Nic’s hoodie with an unimpressive splat, sliding slowly to his arms as ichor discharged from them, her form writhing in fear, despite not able it communicate nor sense much of the world around them compared before the fight, and yet they recognized his touch…she felt as if this was torture as Nicolas expression formed to a scowl less at the abomination (but still found it in him to hate her) and more so the fact he got thrown the thing that ate him and the mess of his clothes when they were now fixed.

“Uhh excuse me but…WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Willa complained with justified outrage at the wildern before her. they both just survived the thing that not only ate her friend but also nearly killed her, and this person had the gall to simply toss it to them without much thought…just who are they? 

“Well, if you must know I am your friend and abomination’s superior, and I don’t take privy to your tone,“ she spoke with venom but quickly dissipated as it came “However since you proved to not be quite formidable despite the lack of experience, I am willing to tolerate it and allow you safe passage out…once”.

Willa took a deep breath. Her fist was well clenched but took restraint, letting a small but quick exhale, she was better than this, plus she was tired and the lack of a green outline was a testament to it alongside her friend, who looked as worse for wear.

“As I was saying prior to your intrusion,” she glared at Willa before proceeding “Visera has gotten too prideful of herself and so, I have decided on letting them stay with you, both as punishment for her actions to you and your…acquaintance, and to form a bond with one another as you two will be working together if the need so arise” The duo looked at her with a cocktail of emotions. And yet they understood all the same, especially now that they were going home now “hm,” Elissa glared at them with a hidden disdain before turning to the entrance. Her steps felt methodical in an odd way “I will inform Fennec of the events that transpired. you're all dismissed and remember heretic. Be ready for when you are summoned for an actual task”

Nicolas sighed in relief and wasted no time leaving…he just wanted to go home by this point.

…

Nicolas and Willa walked through the streets as they both made their way home. Both had been silent for the entire walk, as Visera writhed in Nic’s arms, both had an eventful night, both forgetting the sun had begun to rise. 

Nicolas habitually reached for his goggles, only to realize that he left didn’t need them any longer. Sighing in phyric peace he lowered his arm underneath the amorphous remains of the abomination flesh, he was requested to carry.

“So…” Willa broke the silence. Her face showed concern and confusion, nic could only glance at his friend before she continued “should we keep this a secret? You know, the thing that happened earlier?” she asked. Emphasizing the blob in Nic’s hands as it continued to struggle.

Nic could only really ponder on it, so much had happened and though tempting it was to keep it hidden, he found no need to. Aside from the trauma that one day comes up once the adrenaline from both of them had worn off, he didn’t need to use omniscience to know that. there was the glaring fact their world was now fused with one of magic, so keeping it a secret was not something they could do. At least forever.

Regardless nic hastily shook his head, looking at Willa with a tired yet somewhat deadpanned expression ‘We are getting therapy’ he whispered. Nearly straining his voice as he tried to make it more audible as the two stopped by the bus station. 

Despite the night now over, he knew this was not the end of his nor Willa’s unfortunate adventures in this strange world everyone found themselves in. he can only hope the ones they do would be with Daniel, the adventure he had with him were nicer compared to what happened to them as the bus stopped at their station.

[morgana-ren]

Ok so bartering/bribing Nightmare or Reaves, Astarion to help you escape from Ilya. I know they're only toying with you and it's all a big game for all four, but hypothetically, what would you have to offer to get them to "help"?

I'll go in order of how easy it is to get them to 'help' you. It's a Faustian bargain trying to get any of these rabid men to help you, but I suppose when you're chained by the collar to Ilya's bedpost, anything seems better than there.

We'll start the list off with the easiest of the three, which is obviously Reaver.

He and Ilya get on quite well, so he's likely going to be the first of the three to meet Ilya's latest sexual conquest because Ilya simply cannot resist showing off to him. They get on like two peas in a pod when it comes to libertine hedonism, so he's likely to meet you sooner rather than later. He's deeply interested in the comings and goings of Ilya's personal life (mostly the comings) and so once Ilya decides he's keeping you, plan on seeing Reaver about the manor relatively soon.

Ultimately, 'uncle' Reaver is a simple man with simple goals: Sex. Filthy, libertine, impolite, messy, disgusting, and repugnant sex.

If he takes a liking to you (and he will) the good thing is you won't have to approach him. He will approach you.

Reaver is usually a well-known businessman or celebrity, and chances are you are aware of him and his... proclivities. Trusting him is a poor choice given what you usually know about him, but sometimes, you're so desperate to get away from Ilya that you cannot imagine that Reaver is worse.

He will tell you how it aches what is left of his soul to see such a pretty thing so miserable and mistreated, and he simply couldn't abide himself if he didn't help. He could probably figure out a way to smuggle you away from Ilya— for a price.

Naturally, he's taking a great degree of risk here, and he's betraying his brother dearest, so it's only fair he gets something in return, yes?

That something is mortifyingly degrading sex in ways no one in polite society would ever dare ask for. And he will ask for it in the most casual way imaginable, as if he's asking you to pick him up a beer from the bar, all with a charming smile and wandering hands.

There's two ways it can go if you're utterly mad and agree and go through with it:

1) Reaver tells Ilya all of this beforehand, and Ilya joins in as some form of twisted punishment, to which afterward, Reaver says something along the lines of "Oh dear, he's on to us. I'm afraid we must wait a little longer, ma cherie. Don't let him ride you too hard, hmm? He seems quite irate at our little plan to elope and I simply couldn't live with myself if he hurt you terribly on my behalf."

Basically, a very elaborate setup to a threesome and he's getting what he asked for regardless of his end of the deal. Sometimes Ilya will simply watch him, and other times, Ilya will slide in and make things extra difficult, depending on how he's feeling. They're very close and it's likely in that case that they both thought it would be funny to give you hope only to cruelly yank it away while both were getting fucked. It's a fun group activity. That's like a Saturday night to them.

2) Reaver is actually quite serious. He will help you escape— to his dungeon instead.

Reaver loves Ilya and considers him a brother. Reaver is also a manipulative, underhanded ass. He will backstab them if there's something he covets and call it 'just business.'

If he spends time around you and finds himself charmed, he will hatch a plot to 'save' you from Ilya, only to keep you captive himself in the name of 'keeping you safe.' He'll tell you Ilya will hunt you to the ends of the earth and the only place you'll be safe is in his secret rooms. You're a poor little thing without a penny to your name so he won't charge you for it. He's certain you can work something out.

Reaver and Ilya will kill each other over this repeatedly until Nightmare eventually steps in, tired of having to resurrect Reaver. Things get messy when they both have feelings. How it proceeds from there highly depends.

Second on the list is Asto.

Asto isn't as openly licentious as Reaver is (almost no one is, really) so he's going to be a bit more subtle in his attraction. Ilya will let him feed off you just to show off how delicious your blood is, and if he's feeling generous, will let Asto 'play' with you. You're going to be the pretty wallflower regardless of whether he accepts, serving drinks (usually your own) until you've been drained dry and to the point of hallucinating by both of them. Asto is more respectful of Ilya's feelings and isn't always likely to make a move on you without Ilya's consent.

The best way to get him to cast aside his brother and help you is to make him like you. Fight him, insult him, make it fun for him. Be clever and feisty and taunt him. Don't go down easy. Make him work for everything he takes from you. Asto and Ilya have similar tastes, so chances are it shouldn't be too difficult. Be fun in a way he can't forget.

If you've done it right, Asto isn't going to want the fun to end, and he's not going to want Ilya's permission every time either. Jealous is a good word for it.

That being said, he will try to barter with Ilya first, going through the proper channels and going above board.

When that doesn't work, he will get underhanded.

He'll try to convince Nightmare that you're a distraction or a risk to darling Ilya, and that he could handle you better. Nightmare will see through this usually, however. He will try to appeal to Ilya's 'brotherly' love. Failing that, he will simply wait until Ilya is distracted and he will abscond with you, hiding you away somewhere he thinks Ilya won't look while playing innocent and pinning the crime on one of his brothers or perhaps just how crafty you are.

Asto isn't like Reaver in that he will hold you captive. He's going to let you go and come for you whenever he wants. He wants you to fight and throw a fit every time he comes for what he's owed. He will remind you who you owe your freedom to.

However, Asto is the most 'moral' of the group (albeit hardly at all) so reminding him of his captivity under Cazador might make him feel pity. Thing is, Ilya is his brother, and getting him to betray him won't be easy. Asto must like you to go to bat for you. Enamoring him is an effective way. Play your cards right and manipulate him. Be fiery and strong and make him think it's a damned shame that you're cooped up here, stuck under Ilya taking his cock day in and day out. Make him think it's a waste that you aren't his. Think of it as him seeing a wild, beautiful, bucking bronco locked in the stables rather than being ridden properly. The brothers, while loving each other, are arrogant, selfish, and also in love with themselves. Make him covet you enough to snub Ilya and he will.

He'll forgive him later, he's sure.

He's going to tell you that you owe him a free meal whenever he wants, but everyone knows it's far more than that.

It isn't simple and it's going to take time, but it is possible.

By a wide margin, the most difficult of the three is Nightmare.

Nightmare is going to have no interest in you at all, even if he finds you attractive. He's going to be rude, dismissive, and treat you like dirt. If Ilya offers to share, Nightmare will usually sneer and refuse, preferring torture to sex and calling Ilya a degenerate.

He will refer to you as 'Ilya's little whore' on the best of days and instruct Ilya to be more on top of your discipline. Either he's going to ignore your existence almost entirely, or he's going to take great pleasure in tormenting you and causing you pain.

Don't bother trying to seduce him. It won't work at first. He has to want you badly enough to act which isn't a game of flashing cleavage like Reaver or being feisty like Asto. It takes cunning and craft and time.

Nightmare likes his girls clever, fragile, and vulnerable. Be interesting. Talk to him. Be clever. Be smart. Say things that impress him. Look up to him, make him feel wise and powerful and strong. He will insult you and make every interaction a hell, but after a while, it will stick in his head. Let him catch you crying. Be soft and pretty. Be polite and show proper decorum at first. Look up at him with big doe eyes. Be the pretty little damsel and make him your hero. He's so much better than Ilya. He terrifies you. You behave around him because you respect him.

Enchanting Nightmare is easily the most difficult of the three, but it's also the most likely to win you your freedom... In a manner of speaking. Nightmare actually has the power to keep you from Ilya if he so desires. He can sequester you away in a pocket dimension or keep you in the black palace. He is technically Ilya's boss.

Thing is, he actually loves Ilya very much and he won't do this to him him lightly, and even if he does, he won't break Ilya's heart. Nightmare isn't looking for love or attachment in ANY regard, so it has to creep up on him. He has to see some kind of future with you, or like you enough that he decides he wants you for himself. If Ilya loves you, and things get messy, he's going to try to broker a deal where both sides are happy. He's going to want to share.

Nightmare would have you believe he's impenetrable, but that's very much not true. You can make him take a great interest in you and eventually fall for you against his own will. That's pretty much the only way he's going to get involved.

That or actually being a nuisance and getting in his way. If he believes you're a detriment to Ilya or his personal plans, he will be very vocal about it, but believe you me, you do not want to make an enemy of Nightmare.

You can tell your plan is working when Nightmare becomes particularly cruel. Nightmare enjoys torturing his objects of affection and being a real bastard to them. When he seems keen on making you cry, chances are he secretly wants to touch you in ways that aren't appropriate. He's going to deliberately make messes just to watch you clean them up. He's going to force you to make him a whole elaborate dinner only to sit you on his lap and feed from you afterwards. He's going to squeeze you just to see how react when you're hurt. You're going to run into him in the dead of night and he's going to terrify you just to give himself the giggles.

He still likely won't take up Ilya's offer to ravage you; rather, he's going to corner you when you're alone and instrument some ridiculous scenario and get creepy very fast. When his hands are on you, nails digging in to the back of your neck, hissing what an airheaded little harlot you are and how you're clearly only useful on your knees, telling you that you've earned what he's about to do to you, you've succeeded in planting yourself in his head. You'll begin having very realistic nightmares (no pun intended) about him night after night. It's a very painful, terrifying confirmation.

Sometimes it happens even if your goal isn't seducing him. Sometimes he just falls on his own.

Nighty won't ask for anything. He will simply do. When he wants you, he will simply take you. He's a sight bit more 'honorable' than the other two and won't hurt Ilya or lie to him in most cases, but he will make it known that he has taken an interest and intends to act on it. He's very capable of being underhanded but he usually doesn't have the need to. He's very diplomatic in most cases.

Thing is, this probably isn't a good thing and I wouldn't recommend it. Nightmare will lock you away, and he is worse than the other three. It's literally jumping from the frying pan into the fire. The other three will torment you, yes, but it doesn't hold a candle to what turns Nightmare on. Turning this old dragon's gaze towards you isn't easy, and my God, is it miserable. Nothing gets him throbbing like a girl wailing and weeping for him, weak and pretty and pliant. He will fuck you and lick your tears. He will make you blow him until you black out only to cum on your face and the floor and make you lick it clean. He will make you bleed and tell you how good you taste, and that it's your fault. He will fuck you until he literally cannot feel his legs and will cum dust, and then he will wrap his tail around you and force you to pet his horns and cuddle him like it's all some adorable domestic setup-- assuming you've earned the right to be on the bed and not the floor.

He's a devil, for fucks sake.

All the men are utterly abhorrent. Really. Like once one of them has taken a liking to you, there's really no freeing yourself. None of them are particularly more desirable than the others, but I would say Nightmare is probably the worst of the lot, followed by Ilya and Reaver in a tie, and then Asto. Asto, ironically, is a bit more 'human' than the others despite being a complete and total bastard, and he's capable of having sympathy and pity for you a bit easier.

Keep in mind, this Asto is massively different and has a different escape story than the canon Asto. He's essentially a different person. Looks the same, but ended up falling in with the bastards and sort of.. became one.

[theenchantedecho]

Malignant Masquerade: Death Eaters Dance the Night Away in a Sinister Soiree!

My dearest, wickedly delicious readers, are you prepared for the most scandalous, gossip-filled scoop to date from your enchantingly nasty and encyclopedically vicious journalist, Rita Skeeter? Brace yourselves, for it's time to unmask the secret gathering that sent shivers down the spines of our magical community.

Far from the watchful gaze of the Ministry, within the dark halls of a sinister manor, a gory gala took place. Death Eaters and their depraved associates waltzed to a macabre melody, dressed in their most viciously vile attire. And who, my lovelies, orchestrated this depraved event? The Dark Lord himself, our very own He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! Indeed, this grotesque affair was a gathering of the wickedest witches and wizards this side of Azkaban.

Now, one might wonder what the purpose of such a twisted celebration could be. Rumour has it that the ball was a heinous contest, where the most ruthless Death Eaters competed for the Dark Lord's favour. One can only imagine the diabolical deeds that must have been committed to secure a spot at this despicable dance. Did the attendees engage in a dark magic duelling tournament or perhaps a race to conjure the most vile of dark creatures?

But hold onto your broomsticks, for the wicked whispers don't stop there! Reliable sources (who will remain nameless to protect their fragile necks) have informed me that Albus Dumbledore, the seemingly saintly leader of the Order of the Phoenix, had an undercover agent lurking among the loathsome partygoers. The identity of this daring double agent remains a tantalising enigma, but the mention of a certain rogue Black family member has been making the rounds. Could this mysterious spy be attempting to dismantle the Dark Lord's dastardly plans from within? Or is it merely a ruse, a cunning double-cross orchestrated by the Dark Lord himself to deceive Dumbledore and the Order?

As for the masquerade itself, it appears that the Dark Lord spared no expense in orchestrating a night of unparalleled depravity. From the blood-curdling decorations to the unspeakable hors d'oeuvres (which I dare not describe for fear of inducing violent nausea), this fiendish fête was a true testament to Voldemort's wickedness. I've heard whispers that the wine served at the event was a sinister concoction brewed from the tears of innocent Muggle-borns and the blood of fallen Order members. Simply ghastly!

And what of the attendees themselves? My dear readers, it seems that even the most repugnant of souls seek companionship in these dark times. With the dance floor awash in a sea of sinister masks and blood-red robes, one can only imagine the twisted alliances and treacherous trysts that may have been forged beneath the flickering candlelight. Who was the enigmatic figure in the silver serpent mask, whispering sweet nothings to a witch with a viper coiled around her neck? Could it have been Lucius Malfoy himself, or perhaps a lesser-known Death Eater vying for prominence in the Dark Lord's inner circle?

As our world hovers precariously on the edge of pandemonium, one cannot help but wonder what other shameful secrets and salacious scandals remain hidden, waiting to be unearthed. Fear not, my loyal readers, for your enchantingly nasty and encyclopedically vicious journalist, Rita Skeeter, will leave no stone unturned in her pursuit of the most delectable, drama-filled stories. Stay vigilant, for the next tantalising tidbit is just around the corner.

Could the gory gala have been a precursor to an even more malevolent plan? A wicked scheme designed to strike fear into the hearts of the magical community? One can only shudder at the thought of what horrors may lie in wait. It is whispered that some Death Eaters may have been tasked with infiltrating the very institutions we hold dear, such as the Ministry of Magic, St. Mungo's, and even Hogwarts itself. The mere thought sends a chill down my spine.

And speaking of Hogwarts, it seems that the venerable institution, once a bastion of hope and light in our troubled times, is no longer immune to the machinations of the Dark Lord. Whispers abound of professors with hidden allegiances, students being coerced into joining the dark ranks, and hidden chambers containing untold horrors. Could Dumbledore's once-impenetrable fortress now be teetering on the brink of collapse?

But, my dearest readers, let's not allow the shadows of despair to overtake us completely. In the midst of this darkness, there is still hope, as evidenced by the unwavering courage of the Order of the Phoenix. I have it on good authority that Dumbledore and his band of valiant warriors are working tirelessly to thwart the Dark Lord's vile schemes. And while the identities of many Order members remain a closely guarded secret, I've heard whispers of prominent figures such as James and Lily Potter, Sirius Black, and even our very own Ministry employee, Arthur Weasley, standing bravely at the forefront of the fight against evil.

In the end, my darling readers, what we must remember is that in these treacherous times, it is more important than ever to remain vigilant and united. So, as we face the darkness together, rest assured that your favourite Poison Pen will continue to delve deep into the heart of the wizarding world's most scandalous secrets, sordid affairs, and treacherous intrigues. Because, after all, my lovelies, there's nothing more enchanting than the deliciously vicious truth.

Until next time, my wickedly delightful readers, remember: if there's a sinister secret, a scandalous scoop, or a delectable drama just waiting to be exposed, you can count on Rita Skeeter to be there, quill in hand, ready to spill the tea.

@malfxylucius @mighty-prongs @fauvehoof @afracturedstar

[solomanta]

"I say, as that is proven, the greatest possible dose of happiness will necessarily consist in the greatest of the effects of despotism and tyranny;

whence it will emerge that the harshest, the most ferocious, the most traitorous and the wickedest man will be the happiest man; and that stands to reason.

For as Noirceuil has often told you, happiness lies neither in vice nor in virtue; but in the manner we appreciate the one and the other, and the choice we make pursuant to our individual organization.

It isn’t in the meal set before me my appetite lies, my need is nowhere but in me, and two people may be very differently affected by the same fare: it makes his mouth water who is hungry, excites repugnance in him who has just eaten his fill:

however, as ’tis certain there must be some difference between the vibrations received, and that vice must procure much more intense ones in the individual with the vicious bent than virtue can give to the person whose organs are structured for its reception;

that, although Vespasian had a good soul and Nero an evil, despite the fact both were sensitive, there was a great difference in the temper of those souls as regards the species of sensibility constituting them: for Nero’s was without doubt endowed with a faculty of sensation far superior to Vespasian’s; ’tis certain, I say, that of the two, Nero was the happier man by far; why?

Because that which affects more intensely will always produce the happier effect in man;

and because a vigorous person, owing to his very vigor so structured as to be a better recipient of vicious than of virtuous impressions, will sooner discover felicity than a mild and peaceable individual, whose feeble complexion will deny him all possibilities other than the abject, hangdog, woebegone practice of the formulas of humdrum good behavior;

and what the devil would the merit be in virtue if vice weren’t preferable to it?

Thus, I tell you, Vespasian and Nero were as happy as they were able to be, but Nero must have been much more so, because his pleasures were incomparably livelier and keener;

while Vespasian, in giving an aim to some beggar (simply because as he himself said, the poor have got to live), was stirred in an infinitely less intense manner than Nero, a lyre in his hand, watching Rome burn from atop the tower of Antonia."

[plan-d-to-i]

Thoughts on this https://sapphicdalliances.tumblr.com/post/673266218401169408 please!

LINK - proof that people will really like and reblog anything...

If you've ever asked yourself how obtuse and absurd JGY stans are the above post should answer all your questions ...

"i genuinely feel like The Whole Point of Jin Guangyao’s demise is that it was not justice. in-universe, it did not actually come about because of any of his deeds that we the modern audience would consider the most heinous. Nie Huaisang plotted against him because he killed Nie Mingjue specifically"

Revenge, when justified, is justice in-universe which is what matters when discussing the story. So the whole argument has zero actual worth. JGY's demise came as a result of NHS avenging his brother, which MXTX considered righteous enough that she saw no reason to have NHS caught :

JGY wasn't advertising the messed up shit he was doing, it only started coming to light as NHS, who had seen his true face, started exposing him.

"Mingjue explicitly and with pre-meditation tried to kill Jin Guangyao three separate times, with the novel (my preferred text source) heavily implying he only started playing the evil music after that third time. this could very reasonably be argued to be self-defense."

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. This isn't how "premeditation" or "self defense" work... 🙃

And ofc we can't have a post about JGY without the fucking "watchtowers" ! This is a pretty big reach from what is actually written in the novel, op's "preferred text source" lmao.

"and since I’m being petty anyway, I’ll once again throw out the fact that the person who affected the largest-scale positive societal change was in fact JGY, whose watchtowers were repeatedly praised for saving countless civilian lives, by the narration and by WWX himself"

-petty is the wrong word here... 🌝. So is "largest- scale positive societal changes" ... but wait bc op also says this earlier!

friend izzy points out that in the world of MDZS, “justice only happens on a personal scale”. there is no societal change.

lol 🤔🌝

People who attacked a guy and are big mad he didn't just let them kill him =/= finding out your brother's sworn brother used him for status and legitimacy then with a smile, slowly poisoned him with what was supposed to be healing music until he died painfully and violently, then chopped his body and soul into pieces 🤡

"i’m making this post because a lot of people have told me point blank that JGY “earned” his miserable ending by doing bad shit, that Jiang Cheng/JGY/LXC/whoever the person thinks is an antagonist because they were mean to wangxian were “punished” with horrible fates, and this is how MXTX is codifying who the villains and who the heroes are, and the story is actually explicitly about moral uprightness prevailing over repugnance. and i just think that’s kind of a lackluster reading for a text that’s so blatantly explained that in this universe, good or bad things will simply happen to people completely regardless of whether or not it’s fair."

MXTX explaining why NHS is not a villain:

( translations x )... MXTX has a whole extra about how XY and JGY are villains. She assumed ppl would fucking come to her story with a bare minimum level of reading comprehension (her bad). In universe bad things can happen to good people sure, but people still have control over how they react to those bad things, over their own actions. They're still held accountable. What's morally reprehensible are ppl like jc, like jgy, like xue yang who take out their personal shits on others who are innocent. Op's hot take "summation" is just Xue Yang's mentality lol:

"Xue Yang stood up and kicked the stall over.

The vendor himself had been busying himself all over the place. He was shocked speechless by the kick. He stared as the young man perpetrated his assault and, after the kick, said nothing as he turned around to leave, a wide grin on his face. Only a few moments later did the vendor realize what happened. He caught up and scolded, “What are you doing?!”

Xue Yang, “Wrecking your stall.”

The vendor was half-dead with anger, “You’re sick! You’re mad!”

Xue Yang didn’t move an inch. Pointing at his nose, the vendor continued, “You little bastard! You eat my food, you don’t give me money, and you have the guts to wreck my stall?! I…”

Xue Yang’s thumb shifted. The sword at his waist was unsheathed with a ‘clank.’

The sword shone coldly. He gently patted the vendor’s cheek with Jiangzai’s blade, his voice saccharine, “The dumplings were nice. Add more sugar next time.”

After he finished, he turned around and continued to march forth.

The vendor was a mixture of shock and fear. He was mad, but he didn’t dare say anything, gaping as he walked into the distance. Suddenly, he was filled with rage and frustration. A moment later, he let out a furious roared, “… Under broad daylight without rhyme or reason—why, why?!”

Xue Yang waved his hand without even looking back, “There’s no why. There are lots of things in this world that happen without rhyme or reason. This is called an unexpected disaster. Goodbye!”

lol ...

Night had already fallen. It was quiet all around, with few passersby. The two talked as they walked, passing a street side stall. The vendor was in the middle of dejectedly tidying his tables. He looked up and suddenly screamed, jumping backwards.

His scream and his jump were both quite frightening. Even Jin GuangYao paused, his hand moving to Hensheng’s handle at his waist. When he saw that it was only the average street vendor, he immediately ignored it. Yet Xue Yang didn’t say a word before he went over and kicked over the booth again.

The vendor was both shocked and terrified, “It’s you again?! Why?!”

Xue Yang grinned, “Haven’t I told you? There’s no why.”

I mean... quite obviously there's is a why.