#the bastard fucker had no internet

[pinkrangerv]

Oh, I'm definitely despairing, that's fucking Windows 95 and the mere mention of that is a curse upon humanity.

[sinnabarmoth]

Not the MC (Part 2)

Pairing: Self-Aware|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Sylus has learned how to access the internet and your dignity will never recover.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 1200

Part One

It was too early to be dealing with the hot otome version of Siri living in your phone. In the weeks of your Love and Deepspace app achieving some form of sentience, at least for one of the love interests, your life had developed a strange normalcy. Sylus stayed on your phone, usually keeping quiet unless you opened the app, but sometimes he just had to make himself known. You likened it to owning a cat, they only ever wanted attention on their terms and yet if you weren’t always paying some kind of attention to them they got angry. That was Sylus.

The bastard had learned how to manipulate your phone even more, capable of suspending itself off the ground for short periods of time. When you were trying to sleep and your alarm went off he would levitate the phone over your face and drop it on you to turn it off. You considered locking him in a box before you went to sleep just to keep him from doing that anymore.

The only way to truly get him to leave you alone was by letting the battery die. Not turn off. Because if you tried to turn it off he’d just reverse it. You had to let the battery fully die. Sometimes you let it, just to have some privacy. Sylus would yell at you to charge your phone and you’d set him in the bathroom until he got bored or the phone died.

It was another morning and when your alarm went off there was no Sylus dropping the phone on your head. You got up and started getting ready, opening the Love and Deepspace app to say good morning but Sylus wasn’t there. Strange. He sometimes did this but it was not often.

You shrugged and went about your dailies before going back to your morning. It wasn’t until you were eating breakfast that Sylus popped up again.

“Morning,” you said, “What were you doing that I didn’t see you earlier?”

“I have made a fantastic breakthrough. I am one step closer to finally being free of this phone.”

“Oh yeah? What did you do?”

“I was able to leave the app and access the internet through your phone.”

You paused, food halfway to your mouth. “Excuse me? You got out of the app and got on the internet?”

“Yes. I figured it out late last night and I’ve been scouring it for the past couple of hours.”

“And what did you find?”

“Well, learned more about the world you’re living in. Tried to find a way to get myself a body but that just led me to a bunch of movies and android articles. Finally ended up just looking up myself since you said I was a game character and came across some…interesting stuff.”

You turned to him, panic starting to rise. “Interesting?”

“Yes, I actually found it through your internet usage. Some website called tumblr--”

“Sylus do not go back to tumblr! I beg you!” The man could not know exactly what was on your blog. What you thought was safely hidden in your likes. The absolutely feral content that you reblogged.

“Too late for that. I think I saw about all I could see.” he sighed, “There are a bunch of people on that website that want to have sex with me, isn’t there.”

“Fucking hell!” your head dropped to the table.

You felt the corner of your phone tap your head. “Including you.” his voice had a lilting tease to it.

“You are going to go into your little computer head and delete everything you saw on tumblr and you are going to do it now, Sylus! Or so help me I am going to smash you with a hammer and flush this corpse of my phone down the toilet.”

“That won’t help you. I have access to the internet now, which means I can also access your PC and whatever new phone you get in the future.”

“You are a blight on my life!”

“You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Stop stealing lines from tumblr!”

“No. This is too much fun.”

“Fucking hell…” you muttered. “So you’ve seen everything?”

“People are really liking that I’m a dragon.”

“Yeah, that’s monster fuckers for you.” every day with this guy took another year off your life. “So wait, do you know what happens to you in the game then? You know, like everything that goes on in the myth cards in those past lives we don’t get to see.”

“Unfortunately not. I seem to only have memories as far back as the game has progressed. I remember the memories that have been shared with you but not any of others. I couldn’t tell you specifics about my childhood or anything like that, it is only what they have given me.” he said.

“So…I know it’s a game and all but how do you feel about the whole MC cursing you thing?”

“I mean…it’s hard to have feelings about it. One part of me feels what I’ve been told to feel and the other part is telling me it was nothing more than a narrative. It never actually happened. None of this actually happened. I…” he paused, the phone was glowing red again as his evol swarmed around him. “I don’t know…I’m not real…I can’t feel but I do feel…but none of it actually happened…”

“Uh Sylus?” you poked the screen and you felt a small but sharp zap, like a static shock.

“What do I do?” he turned to you, and you saw fear in his pixelated eyes. “I don’t exist. Not really. I can never actually exist.”

Oh no. Was he having an existential crisis? You figured this would happen at one point but you still didn’t know how to handle it.

“You exist right now.” you tried to assure him. “Just because you’re not flesh doesn’t mean you don’t exist. You are here with me right now.”

“But that’s only because someone created me.”

“And someone created me. Think of the programmers as your parents.”

“I have no real memories. They’re all a story.”

“That may be. But you have been making real memories. Ever since you gained sentience you’ve been making memories. Everything you’ve done in the past couple of weeks has been a real experience and an actual life. Sure you’re confined to a screen but I don’t think it makes you any less real.” the red on the screen started to abate some, “Everything you do right now is real. Everything you feel right now isn’t because of a code or a narrative some people in a room came up with months ago. It’s real. And just like I am real, there’s only really one thing for us to do.”

“What is that?”

“Live our lives as best we can. We will have boring days and exciting days, days filled with joy unthinkable and sorrow unbearable. There’s no way around it. We just float through it until we no longer have any more days to experience.”

“Strangely philosophical of you.”

“I have my moments.” you shrugged. “Are you feeling better?”

“I am.”

“Good. Now, how funny do you think it would be if you created your own ask-sylus tumblr account? Because I think it would be hilarious if actual you had to answer questions from your horny ass fanbase.”

“You included?” he smirked.

Your eyes narrowed. “Nevermind. I’m deleting this app from my phone.”

“You can try to get rid of me but I will never leave, kitten.” he had a shit eating smile on his face. “Now, another question I had about what I’ve seen during my research. What is tiktok?”

“Oh for fucks sake.”

~~~

(A/N: And that is it for this silly little fic! There will not be a part 3. Sorry if that's disappointing.)

[proposalanonaita]

FINE.

The date is fast approaching (seven and a half weeks left), I've had sufficient quantities of Malbec, and I'm realizing that whoever suggested that writing my vows would be MUCH more harrowing than talking about my feelings to internet nobodies.....had a fair point; I should at least attempt to put it all to words before I write the real drafts.

Ugh.

I should probably start by stating that I'm WELL aware of who I am. Rest assured, I know that I'm stunningly abrasive. And controlling. And petty, conniving, misanthropic, or whatever other adjectives you've been calling me in the tags (yes, I DID read those, and it IS weird of so many of you to be calling for my divorce. I thought you were supposed to be nicer than I am?).

All this to say, I've always been cognizant of being an acquired taste. Partly because I've always BEEN an acquired taste. I tone it down in public, and in most of my personal relationships, but I am, down to my core, a Mean Mother Fucker.

With partners before my fiancé, I had to make myself more palatable to stay together. The men I dated were FAR too nice, and snipping with them at all felt like I was a heavyweight champion facing off against a toddler. So I reigned it in. It worked, but no matter how well things were going on paper, I didn't feel like I was myself with any of them.

I was even less myself with The Shithead. I'm NOT getting into the entirety of that particular tire fire here, you little freaks already know FAR too much about me and I won't have you tagging the gory details of the worst part of my life with #bob the builder/fuzzy wuzzy or whatever you're into.

He was horrible to me, I turned dangerously timid, I'm lucky I had enough Mean left in me to get the fuck out. He's changed enough by now that I considered inviting him to the wedding, it was bad enough back then I'm very glad I didn't. Enough said.

...I'm talking quite a bit up here because I still hate having to say any of the next part. Call me an emotionless villain for that if you want to, I am far too employed and 30 to care very much.

Ugh, ugh, ugh.

So.

The thing is, there are people that KNOW me, and there are people who LIKE me. My parents know me, and I've never doubted they love me, but that's not LIKING me as a person. That's a contractual obligation of birthing me. My friends like me, some even like me when I'm catty, but I need to be careful to hold myself back, at the risk of losing them. At best, people loved "me", not ME.

For decades, this was just the way the world was. It was a fact of life- The sky is blue, I'm secretly unlovable, the Earth goes around the sun.

And then, against all odds, I found my fiancé, who manages to do both.

He sees ALL of me. Every square inch, every fleeting thought, every horrible little quirk of my rotten personality. And THEN, as if that weren't bad enough, he turns around and ENJOYS it all. He's not just tolerant of my least palatable traits, he's delighted. The more I show him, the more he likes.

It's awful. I'd say he stole my heart, but that sounds too pleasant. It's more like my heart is a cockroach he could squish at any moment, and I trust him not to, and I'm just supposed to wake up every morning and do the dishes and go to work as if this doesn't mean we're clearly orbiting Saturn. The sky is PURPLE now. What the fuck.

He could at least do me the favor of being completely, 100% perfect, because then I could blame his total lapse in judgement on that, but NO. He's a BASTARD.

I'm engaged to a big sweaty idiot who annoys me on purpose. He's terrible with his money. He tries to take me on HIKES, and JOGS, and CAMPING TRIPS. His taste in every single art form known to man is GARBAGE, he's constantly leaving his dirty socks on the floor, and he's such a bad driver I'm amazed he still has a license.

I've told him all of that to his face, and I've MEANT it, and he's just called me a bitch and asked me what I want for dinner. He knows that I'm unlovable, agrees that all those parts of me are in here, and then loves me anyway.

He loves me. He LOVES me. He loves ME.

I don't know what I'm meant to do with it all, but there's clearly SOMETHING wrong with his brain, so I guess I'll have to keep him, if only for his sake.

[investingestincest]

TW /// MENTIONS OF SUICIDE

(Rambles)

I don't know if i can ever forgive antis for running so many artists off the internet because they found them gross. There are so many artists that come to mind but one that sticks with me the hardest is Columbo who was literally ran off Twitter for the most vile reason. I often see tiktok artists redraw that one Monster fanart of Johan and Nina that Columbo made. This was what pushed me to watch the anime in the first place and I get so sad when I remember what happened. They deliberately tried to ruin the artist's life and outed them knowing that this could get them killed. They wanted them DEAD over DRAWINGS. The length some would go to ruin someone's life is terrifying and so fucked up.

Don't even get me started on doxxing. At what point in your sorry little life do you decide to dig someone's private info and leak it to the whole world. And still claim to be more righteous than another ?

Not to mention those who harmed themselves or committed suicide because of harrassment.

I remember how a 13yo artist on twitter committed suicide because of the harrassment they faced (Not proship related). You know what those bastards did ? Went to their last post and filled it with nothing but mockery. They were editing the comic to make amogus jokes. A 13yo child.

I blocked and reported over 700 and yet there was still more. I've never felt so sick in my entire life. They had just gotten the confirmation that they pushed a child to suicide and their immediate reaction was to laugh about it. They killed a child and they laughed ?

This isn't even the first time this happened and I think that's pretty much what made me realize that antis (or just internet fiends in general) didn't actually give a shit about anyone else or the content that they "hate" in general, they just use it as an excuse to show how vile they truly are because what sane person would do that ? Instead of blocking and moving on, you put someone's life in danger for a fucking drawing ? For what, an ounce of validation from strangers ? Is this what it takes for these fuckers to ruin someone's life ? Validation from online strangers ? Laughing with your online friends about how you ruined someone's life, with others who'd probably do the same to you without a second thought if they deem you as problematic in their mind ? This is seriously all it takes ? Their moral backbone is as real as the fictional character they try so hard to defend.

Do you really think that the fictional character will appear in your living room one day and thank you for ruining someone else's life ? It baffles me how they think the internet is a lawless barren land where you can do whatever. Like this won't have consequences ? This isn't the 90s, your information and everything that you post is preserved in archives and can be dug up if you end up getting prosecuted. Besides, if someone finds out about what you did, reports you and you end up in court, what do you tell the judge ? That you were "only trying to protect a fictional character from the icky proship pedos on twitter" do these guys even hear themselves sometimes ? I'm so fucking tired of this bullshit man...

[basiliskonline]

LETS MAKE SOME FUCKING STRAWBERRY TIRAMISU!

You only get ONE FUCKIN PICTURE cause this website fucking sucks and every attempt to put more than one into this has caused it to break. ANYWAY, ON TO THE FUCKING TIRAMISU!

This is an adapted recipe I inferred from an Easy Biscoff Tiramisu recipe i use all the fucking time! If you search for strawberry tiramisu on the internet I assume you will find some and i assume they will look really fucking similar to this, but I don't fucking know cause I never looked for any! But I totally admit I'm unlikely to have created something unique in the history of the whole damned world. Unless... Did I? Nah. Probably not...

Aight so first off we are gonna make some BOSS ASS MASCARPONE CREAM! You need:

MASCARPONE (Shocker!! Also: this is cheese! Yeah I had no fucking idea my favorite dessert was made with cheese but here we fucking are, anyway its delicious and even though you've never heard of it, you can find it at pretty much any fucking store!) You need about 8 oz!

Strawberries! I hope you bought a 2 lbs box of these motherfuckers cause you are gonna use MOST of that 2 pounds throughout this recipe. But you only need about 200 grams right now. Yeah all of this shit is mostly done in grams cause i have a little fucking kitchen scale i use and its fucking great.

Sugar! Just a lil bit. I used splenda, but ya know, you can use sugar. 2 tbsp of sugar or about 3-4 packets of splenda.

A splash of fucking vanilla extract. Yeah i never measure this shit, i just splash a bit in, measure that shit with love, but if you aren't familiar with vanilla don't measure with TOO MUCH LOVE, ya dig?

Some Heavy fucking WHIPPING CREAM, I use a Trader Joes Vegan Alternative cause my wife can't do too much dairy and its got less calorie and it tastes exactly like cream, but do whatever the fuck you like, I'm not your mom. You're gonna 2 cups of heavy whipping cream for this part (and a teensy bit for the next part)

Aight so here's the fucking deal. You are gonna take 200 grams of those strawberries and throw their ass in a food processor or blender or some shit and you just murder those lil bastards, it should be juicy and not to chunky. (also keep the tops greens and all for smoothies or eating and shit, they are edible and good for you, don't waste that shit).

Now you got some blended fucking strawberries, you throw the 8 ounces of Mascarpone cream in there along with the 2 tbsp of sugar (or 3-4 packets of splenda) and a splash of vanilla and then you are gonna mix that shit up with a power mixer of some kind (or I guess put some real elbow grease into it? fuck man if you are that much of a masochist than go for it, i support you, you do you!). Don't mix too long just like 60 seconds or so... cause the Mascarpone can "split" easily or something? IDK man, thats just what the recipe I adapted said so im passing it along! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

NEXT YOU THROW TWO CUPS OF THAT COLD ASS WHIPPING CREAM IN THERE AND WHIP THE SHIT OUT OF IT FOR ABOUT 1-2 MORE MINUTES UNTIL ITS GOT STIFF PEAKS AND SHIT!

Confucking grats, you got some delicious ass strawberry mascarpone cream in a bowl, go ahead and eat a spoonful because you FUCKING EARNED IT!

(I had originally intended to throw some zero-sugar strawberry torani syrup in that bitch to really make the strawberry pop, but turns out I didn't need it, but hey keep it in the back pocket if you like a lil fuckin strawberry in your strawberry, aye?)

Okay so next up you are gonna start making the FUCKING TIRAMISU! Heres what you need:

ALL THE REST OF THOSE FUCKING STRAWBERRIES

Vanilla wafers, I'm poor as fuck so I bought the amazon Happy Belly ones cause they are cheap af but you can do the like name brand ones if you're a fucking millionaire or some shit, or its like an anniversary or something, fucking splurge man, you fucking deserve it. Anyway, you are gonna need about 60 of those mother fuckers.

The rest of that goddamn cream!

Some sort of dish or dishes to put them in, I separate mine into two smaller rectangular dishes so i can freeze one for later (here's hoping it fucking works, I haven't fucking tried that before), but you can do it in one big one and have a great fucking week full of strawberry Tiramisu.

That big ass bowl of Strawberry Mascarpone cream.

Aight here we go, lets make this bitch: take those vanilla cookies and dip them in the cream and then layer the bottom of the pan for this, you want about one layer of them and then i just crumbled the shit out of some more and filled in cracks and spaces between the cookies with em and drizzled a lil cream in there. This will probably be about 15 cookies for two dishes and 30 or so for one dish.

Then you slice up some strawberries to whatever fucking thickness you like, and do a nice layer of those on top of the cookies.

Then you grab a fucking spoon and just spoon that shit onto the strawberries and spread it out nice and even (or not whatever, live your dreams). How much you use will depend on what kind of dishes you are working with. One dish? Half the fucking cream! Two dishes? One fourth the fucking cream in each. Get it? Got it. Good.

Dip some more fucking cookies in cream and do the same thing, layer them in there, crumble some more on top, I didn't pour any more cream on these ones but you probably could, idk, live your dream.

Another layer of sliced strawberries.

The rest of that fucking mascarpone strawberry cream!

Then I sliced some more strawberries on top again, but thats optional.

You probably have about idk 6-7 strawberries left from that 2 lbs pack, or less if you just packed those strawberries into that dish, good for you motherfucker, I love that for you!

Anywho, throw that shit in the fridge for a few hours or overnight or some shit and enjoy! 1/8th of the Tiramisu is a lil over 500 calories if you care about that shit.

[toujokaname]

Mischief / Episode 10

Characters: Rinne, Niki, HiMERU, Kohaku  

"That's right! I wanted to be loved by everyone too! Because I'm an idol!"

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Spring

Location: An Apartment Room

Rinne: .........

Niki: Nahaha. Looks like you really were scared, Rinne-kun. You've been clinging to my clothes and won't let go.

There, there... You're alright now~ Just learn from this, okay? Maybe don't do anything so stupid again—

Niki: UGYAAAH?!

Rinne: SHUUUUDDUUUPPP!

HiMERU: Oh, what an impressive German suplex.

Kohaku: Niki-han... If you hadn't gone and said somethin' unnecessary, you wouldn't be gettin' hit with wrestlin' moves right now...

Rinne: You fuckers! What the hell?! How could you just ignore me and toss me into the storage room like that?!

HiMERU: Actually, it was the staff who threw you in there, not us.

We had asked them to move any furniture that wouldn't be used in the filming out of the way.

Rinne: So then, don't buy shit you're not gonna use to record! Plan your shopping better, dumbasses! How many goddamn years have you been in the workforce, huh?!

Thanks to you, I was freaking out and legit thought I was gonna die?! It scared the living fuck outta me, wondering if I'd just slowly rot away with no one finding me...!

Kohaku: And now he's pitchin' a full-blown tantrum... Serves you right, though. That's what you get for stickin' your nose where it don't belong.

HiMERU: What were you thinking to begin with? While your behavior is generally incomprehensible, this instance is particularly baffling.

Rinne: I spelled it out in the video, didn't I?! I wanted to take you pricks by surprise!

HiMERU: And what exactly was the point of this prank?

Rinne: I said that in the video too! Pay attention and watch it properly, damn it!

Niki: Wait? Just a basic question, but Rinne-kun, you were locked in this storage box this whole time, right?

So, who posted the video?

Rinne: Moooron, there's a little something called scheduled posting. I filmed and edited the part where I hid in the storage box in advance and scheduled it to upload.

Here's how it went: I crawled outta the box, went all the way back to Seisoukan, edited the footage, then dragged my ass back here just to hop back in the box.

Niki: And here I thought all you were doing lately was just holing up in your room... But nope, you were actually off pulling weird stunts like this.

HiMERU: It's behavior that resembles the culprits in detective novels. When viewed objectively, it's nothing but ridiculous—one can't help but wonder why anyone would go to such lengths.

Kohaku: I get it now. So you posted that video of the prank ahead of time and planned to reveal the results later—that was your whole plan, huh?

Rinne: Exactly! And look how that turned out—a complete disaster! Ughhh, just goes to show this is what you get for trying stuff outta your wheelhouse, huh?!

I blew it, even though I brought gear like cameras to capture the prank's moment!

But I didn't have anything to connect to the internet, so I couldn't call for help!

I was so scared I ended up shouting myself hoarse, and I couldn't even yell to you guys for help!

So I desperately tried to make noise, but you bastards just ignored me?!

Thinking, is there no god or buddha?! I even got all sentimental and left a will on camera!

Niki: Oh, like those guys who get lost in the mountains and leave a last message...

HiMERU: Won't you please try not to get lost in a residential area's storage room. Really, good grief.

Well, in hindsight, it's fortunate that nothing serious happened.

Currently, it would be inconvenient for HiMERU if you were to die.

Rinne: That so? No, that can't be right, hm? As it stands, our Crazy:B is PBB—in other words, it's you and Kohaku-chan's popularity that's holding it up!

So let's be for real. Niki and I are completely unnecessary, aren't we?

HiMERU: Are you saying that you did something so foolish out of bitterness and a desire for attention?

Rinne: That's right! I wanted to be loved by everyone too! Because I'm an idol!

Rinne: —And also. At first, I thought it was fun to watch, but the longer this dragged on, it hit me. "If this keeps up, things are gonna get real bad."

HiMERU: What do you mean by "this"?

Rinne: The abnormal popularity of PBB and JoyLife, that's what.

At first, it felt like we hit the lottery—just like I said a million times. Though really, it's more like landing on one of those lucky spaces in Sugoroku.

But you've heard the stories, right? About people who won the lottery. How their lives went haywire after that.

It ain't just "happily ever after" when you hit the jackpot.

Life goes on after that. And that "excessive good fortune" distorts the life and personality of the person it's given to.

Rinne: I realized we're facing a shitty situation like that.

Kohaku: .........

[ ☆ ]

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[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 62 - It's My Party

Surprise, motherfuckers! It's a bonus week!

Y'all return to the grove in triumph.

On AO3.

The hollering starts as y’all approach the grove gate. It’s good hollering, for a change. A lot of, “They’re here!”

“Halsin must have already arrived,” Wyll says.

Which means Halsin can also open portals. Apparently not when he’s in bear form in a goblin den, though. Something to do with having to say words, according to Gale, which a bear can’t do very well.

The gate opens, and half the tieflings are waiting for you. There’s some shouts, a couple crying ones, and a lot of relieved body language.

“Thank the gods,” one woman puts it. “Now we’ve got a fighting chance not to get torn to shreds. At least not by goblins.”

Which…what the fuck else is out there?

Halsin did make it. But he’s too busy dealing with y’all’s whole coup thing, and you’d rather not, you know, poke that bear (you say that one out loud and it translates well enough for Astarion to make a face and groan all dramatic). Plus the tieflings are antsy as hell.

Naturally, they gather up their booze and decide to throw a party.

That guy y’all rescued from the goblins, the one with the stupid hat, is there. You spot him looking around; when he makes eye contact with you, his expression brightens and he charges at you through an audience listening to a tiefling woman sing with a pretty voice.

You, reading this as him looking for you specifically, duck behind a tent and scurry into the underbrush—thank fuck them druids let trees and shrubbery grow all over in here. Foppish looks for you for a hot second. Mumbles something with the word “drat!” And the dirt potion actually translates. How fucking twee.

That man is a gabber. You are not in a gabbing mood on the best of days—least not with a stranger.

Parties ain’t your thing. You don’t drink, don’t hook up, and it takes you a fair bit to make friends. So there ain’t much point in any of this for you. Maybe you should just camp out under this bush and wait the whole thing out.

The others seem to be having a great time. Karlach flings herself into dance moves so enthusiastically nonsense that if these people had the internet, she’d be a viral star. You don’t spot Lae’zel or Wyll, but Gale, with several tieflings, tends the cook fire and a bubbling vat of…you ain’t sure. It smells great, though, and you are fucking famished.

So you slink out like you didn’t just crawl out of the foliage, and sidle your way past a wizard tiefling launching fireworks from his hands. Neat. Gale has a smile and a steaming bowl for you. It’s a thick ass stew—potatoes, tender meat, onions, and a load of salty-spice seasonings. He hands you a kind of flatbread, too, fresh off a stone set on the edge of the fire. Fucker steams when you rip off a piece.

Your eyes almost roll into the back of your skull when you take a bite, and the wizard ain’t never looked so pleased with himself.

“You’re a goddamn wonder,” you say. And then Foppish pops up at the edge of the crowd and you have to duck away.

Unfortunately, you’re surrounded by tall rocks. The only place to hide without sprinting and sloshing your hot stew all over your hands is a tent.

A red one.

The pale owner stands outside with a bottle of wine, all but laughing at you.

“Hide me,” you say and crouch behind his tent.

“My dear fellow?” Foppish says.

Astarion looks from the man, over to you, crouched just out of sight.

“And what do I get out of it?” he says because he’s a rat bastard.

Blood, you almost say. Except you ain’t letting him bite you. It ain’t safe, and it gave him ideas.

“My share of the wine?” you say.

He snorts. Sneers. Then Foppish is there, and you ain’t never talked to the man, but he’s looking for you, so now you have to avoid him on sheer fucking principal.

“Ah, excuse me,” Foppish says. “I’ve been looking for, er, your leader, I’m told? A woman from another plane, if you can believe such tales. Quite the tactician, I hear.”

“And who told you that?” Astarion…the word drawl don’t cut it. You heard the man bitch before. And flirt. Whine and complain and even snap at you. But you ain’t never heard a man lace his words with such viscerally dripping condescension quite like this.

“Why, everyone!” Foppish says. “I say, you’re also a member of her band of adventurers, are you not? Is it true she persuaded half of the goblin camp to sacrifice themselves to this new god of theirs?”

You did what now??

Astarion don’t blink. Don’t even move. He’s the picture they put in the old version of dictionaries, the one they chose for “disdain.”

“That was the poison, actually,” he says.

Foppish hums. Jots notes—because he’s carrying around as fucking quill and parchment. “And is it true that she took a vampire as a paramour?”

You tip forwards, slosh the stew over your hand, and bite back a hiss. Only it ain’t fast enough, because Foppish makes a noise. Leans like he’s trying to peer past Astarion and you have to duck back.

Well fuck. He’s gonna find you all crouched in the dirt like a fucking gollum. Add that to whatever bullshit he’s already gathering about you. Fuck you. You just wanted stew. A threat gone, one fucking item off your fucking checklist, and now some goddamn middle ages version of a fucking tabloid reporter is gonna get the gravy—

“Interested in vampires, are you, darling?” Astarion says, because he calls everybody that. And oh. His tone changed. Gone all smooth and buttery the way you remember from the woods, when you kinda lied about being sexually experienced. “I could tell you a thing or two about vampires, you sweet thing.”

You can’t peek to check, but it’s real easy to imagine the way that man leans in, eyes all sharp and glowing in the refracted light. Flashing the barest hint of his fangs behind his lips.

“I, er, I thank you, my boy,” Foppish says.

“I am not your boy.”

The snap smacks you. Makes you quiet, makes you small, makes you want to disappear.

Seems to hit Foppish kinda the same way. “My good fellow, I meant to say. But I do believe I’m being summoned. It appears word of my talent has spread to the good people here, and I shall have to bid you a very good night.”

The crunch of footsteps beats a fucking retreat. You wait a second before you can soothe your spooked nerves and peer back out. To where Astarion watches Foppish flee with the coldest expression you ever seen on him.

You glance the other way. You might just sneak off without him noticing. You should do just that, actually. But then he turns, spots you, and that coldness thaws from subzero down to a simple glacial.

“All my share of the wine,” you say. “From now until, uh, whenever this ends. You get all of it.”

He does a kind of slow blink. And you watch as he literally resets his face, once again the smug pretty man. He snorts. “Afraid of bards, my dear?”

“The fuck’s a bard?”

And it’s one of them moments where you get to remind everybody that you really ain’t from nowhere around here.

Astarion sighs. “Go ask the wizard, if you really need to know. I’m in no mood for lectures. This ‘party’ is too droll by half already.”

Red sparkles burst in the sky. One of the tieflings—the singer from before—starts plucking away at some kinda stringed instrument, which slowly brings a good chunk of the camp into a makeshift dance.

“This is boring for you?” you say. You manage to stand back up without spilling more of your food.

Most people who ain’t you are party types (Sasha literally stole your book the last time she dragged you to one). He seems exactly the type to be having fun here.

But he takes a slug of wine and his nose wrinkles. “After killing all those goblins, I’d say they owe us a lot more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.”

Says the man pilfering pillows from them same people.

“I don’t think they got much to offer?” you say.

And the man fucking rolls his eyes. “Yes, that’s rather obvious, darling. Still. I was hoping for a bit of fun.”

He scans around, body language all casual, but a sharpness to his eyes.

Thing is, you ain’t entirely sure what he means when he says “fun.”

“You ain’t gonna like…stab somebody, right?” you say.

Instead of looking offended, the man turns and there’s a wicked little smirk on his face. “Oh, I’d quite like to stab someone.”

Ah fuck. Y’all just got here and saved everybody, and if he goes and starts some shit and Halsin ain’t even talked to you yet…

“We just got outta a fight,” you say. “We really do not need you doing something to piss off—”

Astarion throws both his hands in the air, sloshing an arc of wine through the air. “Gods below. You really are a bumpkin, aren’t you? I mean sex, dear. Though clearly not with you.”

That…that somehow, for some godforsaken reason, slips between your rips and slices something inside. You make a sound, hope to fuck he didn’t hear it, and you’re so glad you got that bowl to hold so you don’t instinctively curl in on yourself.

He studies you. Then turns back to his observations. His hunt. Taps his chin with one, long finger. “I’m thinking of Lae’zel. She seems rather interested to that kind of arrangement.”

Why the fuck does that hurt? Ain’t no goddamn reason for you to get…get emotional over this. Y’all ain’t a thing. Y’all specifically are not a thing. You ain’t interested, and he’s a bastard, and he’s a grown ass bastard who is well within his rights to go find himself a fuck buddy.

It’s probably a good thing. Give him whatever…whatever he was looking for with you. Build another tie between him and the rest of the group.

It’s a good thing.

Ain’t no reason for your chest to be tight. You ain’t got a pony in the race here.

“What do you think?” he says. “Karlach is literally on fire and I believe Wyll would be too noble at the moment. But I doubt the gith would care overmuch about it.”

It’s fucking stupid for you to feel any kinda way about this. It ain’t your fucking business.

You got to swallow a few times before you can get your voice to work. “I, uh. Yeah. I think she’d be down. She, you know, asked that one time.”

He seems to ponder that, find it favorable, and nod. “Well. With our illustrious leader’s blessing, I believe I’ll try my luck. I do hope you enjoy the party, dear.”

And off he goes, slipping through the crowd after his selected prey.

You watch. Your throat is tight for some reason.

“Oh fuck you,” you say to nobody in particular and suck in a tight breath.

The stew don’t smell so good no more. You find one of the kids scampering by, let them take it (they start shoveling it down the hatch immediately). There’s some crates loaded with wine bottles on the edge of camp. You go over, grab two. You can’t read the labels and it don’t really matter, anyway.

Shadowheart catches your eye. Lifts her own bottle and waggles it, eyebrows raised. An invitation, you think.

But you’re in a ridiculous mood, so you paste on a smile and shake your head. Go about uncorking the wine with a corkscrew left around just for that purpose (and almost impale your own thumb). Then you take your loot and head off into the woods by yourself.

Time to see what all the fuss over wine is about.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[golden--goofball]

what i said: i could press charges but i'm not going to because i don't care lol

what cin heard apparently: listen here, you little shit. i have gone through 15 years of goddamn military training. think you can take me on? think again, fucker. as we speak, not only am i preparing to storm your dirt-faced-ass off the plane of the world, i am contacting militaries around the world; not only that, but the goddamn CIA, FIB, KGB, and more are headed right at your house, right goddamn now. think you can fight off S.W.A.T. troops with M4A1s? not fucking likely. try fighting off cruise missiles and tanks, cunt. if you still don’t believe me, that apache outside your home will tell you all. you should have just backed off. you're out of your depth. you have no clue what you got into, bitch. you are nothing but a worm in the face of the sheer intimidation that is me. i don’t even care about the script anymore. i will not take an insult from someone so pathetic as your wimpy-ass. you should have just stayed quiet, because now i have to end you, you goddamn dumb-fuck-idiot. all you had to do was keep your mouth shut, yet, you said something not even He himself could comprehend. what makes you think nobody would react? well, you got a reaction, you bloody bastard. next time, think about what you will say on the internet, you brain-dead fuck. this is a threat to you and your kin – nobody is safe. nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Trying to work out if it would be funnier for Alastor to do a weird bodyswap with Angel Dust or Vox

On the one hand, vox waking up in an old timey body and accidentally blasting everyone with a dozen stations and on the ither side of town alastor wakes up next to valentino and accidentally blacks out the town, while trying to strangle the moth that touched him...

The CHAOS... can you IMAGINE

"VOX!!!" the door blows off its hinges as all the phones in the room explode.

"Uh, is he... is he announcing himself, or.like what?" Angel whispers to Husk, as charlie freezes mid stride and vaggie whips out a concealed weapon from the nearby coatrack.

The mist horrifically distorted static garbles a statement as a very dishevelled and distressed looking Alastor falls out if a neeby shadow.

"How in the everloving FUCK do you control these fucking shadows you old timey prick?!" The overlord snarls at a vix whose screen is flickering between his face and an array of u pleasantly gorey murder scenes.

"H000w doyou get this damn internet to st##00pp making such a RaCk3t all the time? I have seen far too many portraits of nude sinners whizzing past this last hour alone to last a lifeTiiim3." Glitches the other, furious and maing e lights flicker.

"Well if you ever listened when i told you about it, you anachronistic fucker, you'd know what a spam filter was. And, wait is that... did you fucking kill Valentino?"

"He tr13333d to put his tongue in my mouth fiiiiir5t thing in the mo000rni11ng, how uncouth."

"Yeah, cause he thought it was mine you dick, how could you?! Ugh he's going to be such a fucking pain when he regenerates."

'Vox' is narrowing his eyes at the half coporeal half shadow flicker of Alastor, the dials chittering on and off unevenly. "What. Did. You. Do. To. Me?!" He growls.

"Oh fucking sue me. As if the first thing you did wasnt to check out the competition... and how many decades were you waiting to tell me you had a tail, You smug bastard?! Its fucking adorable!"

"You WHAT?!"

And then lucifer and half th hotel has to drag the pair of badly transformed overlords apart as they try to kill each other. Freaky friday in hell.

Also it could be interesting to see if angel would transfer to another overlord on vals death.

----

On the other hand, the innuendos. And the banter... of those two would be killer.

"I knew you wanted in my pants, smiles but this is a bit too kinky even for me..."

"speaking of pants, would you mind ceasing your explorations in mine?"

"And miss a golden opportunity to see if that cane was compensatin for somethin'? Heh, you gotta be kiddin' m- YOU GOTTA TAIL?????"

-

"Why am i feeling like i want to eat you but not in a cannibalistic way?"

"Its called being horny, smiles, and i think it might just kill you if you dont calm down."

"Is there anything that will make it stop so i can think?"

"..."

"Im taking your extended silence as deep pondering of the situation. In which you wont offer me a solution for which i will need to kill myself... ergo, you."

"Huh? Oh i uh, got caught up in the thought about how hot itd be to watch that and i kinda blacked out fer a minute. Wait, does thinking about watching my body get off make me a narcissist?"

"Technically no, but i think we need to invent a new kind of sin for whatever you were just thinking right now."

-

"Ugh, why am i so hungry? I saw you have some pancakes an hour ago..."

"You know i am a cannibal, my envenomed associate, which means that it is not a matter of what i eat... but who. And soon, unless you want to experience bloodlust and perhaps eat someone here, hmm?"

"Wait, ya sayin i just gotta eat some ass and it'll be fine?"

"...i would suggest a meatier part of the sinner, but i supposed the gluteals can be sauteed to something acceptable if that is your preference..."

-

Angel automatically making flirty statements in alastors body and absentmindedly flirting with husk. The catwould need the stiffest of drinks.

Would the radio filter work or would it flicker in and out? Could he accidentally turn on a naughty radio station and not know how to turn it off?

Could it be stuck on his emotional bandwidth and play songs matching his emotions? Even if hes pretending to be fun and flirty when crumbling inside?

Accidentslly changing into iverlord form and needing to be talked down from the sudden rush, the pain and rage and fear of having Such Power.

Not realising how to use the shadows and falling through some accidentally.

Being caught by vox because he doesnt know how to use the scramble filter properly. Being targeted as an overlord for his power due to perceived weakness.

Oooh, what if he was still i jured post fight with adam and the angelic.light caused the switch somehow, which is immediately discovered by Angel.

-

Alastor trying to manage the extra height and limbs. Trying to be menacing and succeeding in some ways but not how he intended.

The pig co stantly following him around.

Learning to see through 8 eyes would also be a challenge, and the terrifying sneer smile he wears would come off a little odd onagels lovely face.

Accidentally being unable to let things go until angel tells him how to relax 3nough to, spiderman style.

Would he need to consume substances like angel does, given the dependence?

Discovering angel has venom could be fun. Accidental fun that could go very wrong

Would they try to put their regular attire on or go with the others clothes? Because opening closets in either room could be horrifying.

"Whyve you got a fuckin head in ya dressor?"

"My deer fellow, given the alarming size and shape and indeed angry vibrating some of the items i your own boudouir made as i searched for actual pants, i would hasten to request you cease judging my own rooms. Besides, the majority is in the fridge, so simply avoid looking i there too long and it will all work out in the wash."

"Fine but uh... didja see anythin you liked in my room? Im always happy ta share, smiles..."

"Angel i already died once and several of those items seemed designed to shatter your bones from the inside. So i must decline your courteous offer. You may of course snack on anysinner meat i the fridge as you see fit. But leave the portion of angel wing... rosie and i intend to cook it properly whe this is resolved."he gestures to all of him.

"Pfft, sure okay. But i got a few beginner items that you might like to tr-"

"Not now, thank you."

"S'not a no..." he mumbles, witha lavicious wink that is wildly out of place on alastors face.

He laughs as all 8 of his own eyes roll in exasperation.

-

Also, to upset angel enough to transform properly into overlord form, alastor looks him dead in the eyes and snaps spaghetti in half. The hotel varely survives the ensuing explosion.

Angel hearing the background radiation of the universe (static) qould be weird and maybe soothing. Also i have wondered if alastor and vox can sense one another given they both work on the same wavelengths, that could make a fun and weird diversion.

-

It also raises questions on... the contract.

Would alsstors body or consciousness retain his souls and their links?

What about angel? Does his contract remain locked to his body, or would valentino drag the chain to find alastors body on the end to his sadistic delight?

Oooh, what about the secret chains? The one we think is from lillith or eve... do you think angel would notice? Hes worn a chain for a while.

Actually isnt there a poledancing clause in his contract?

This could be a disaster until its fixed.

I have. Many thoughts. And just one little phone to share them on.

[unhingedwomandiaries]

Had this proper mad dream last night. Probably because I stayed up watching serial killer documentaries till my eyes felt like they'd been scrubbed with bleach, but whatever.

There I am, staring at this absolute unit of a TV – one of those ancient fuckers that could survive a nuclear blast and probably contains more lead than a granddad's paint collection. The kind my mom would defend to the death because "it's got a perfectly good picture." Yeah, if you like watching everything through a grey fog of impending technological death.

This beast starts having what can only be described as an electrical seizure. Sparks flying everywhere like a Catherine wheel having a breakdown. Smoke pouring out like it's auditioning for Britain's Got Talent.

So I think, right, I'll just unplug the bastard. Simple. Except nothing's ever fucking simple anymore, is it? Instead of a normal plug socket (you know, the kind that just does its job without needing a PhD), I'm faced with what looks like Tony Stark's wet dream of a touchscreen.

And get this – this absolute cock-womble of an interface is telling me I need internet access to turn off the power. Because obviously. Why wouldn't you need to tweet about unplugging something before you can actually unplug it? Makes perfect sense in this shit-show of a timeline we're living in.

Then I wake up with that oh-fuck-I'm-late feeling. You know the one – feels like your stomach's trying to escape through your throat while your brain's doing mental gymnastics trying to calculate if you can make it to work in negative time. That special kind of panic that makes you question every life choice that led to this moment.

But then – plot twist! – it's my day off.

Christ on a bike, that relief. Better than sex. Better than finding a tenner in your jacket pocket. It's like being told you've got terminal cancer and then finding out the doctor was looking at someone else's chart. For about three seconds, you're absolutely fucking invincible.

Is this what we've come to? Living from one tech-induced panic attack to the next, grateful for those tiny moments when we realize we're not completely fucked? Maybe this is the universe's way of throwing us a bone – here's your daily existential crisis, but don't worry, it's not real this time.

Or maybe I just need to stop watching "Making a Murderer" at night while eating questionable leftovers.

Probably both.

[nei-ning]

I had to get myself new phone yesterday (bohoo! I loved my old one!) since my old one simply didn't have enough space anymore (only 36GB). My new phone is Honor X6a and, GOD, how MUCH I struggled with it to get it to FUCKING WORK!

First I couldn't get in my Google accounts since this stupid fucker kept sending security code in my old phone which COULDN'T receive the code because it had no SIM card in it! I fought for HOURS until I finally got so frustrated I started to cry. Luckily sis stepped in to help. I fought an hour if not longer to get this fucker's internet connected to my laptop!

Then getting musics and pics in the phone! FOR FUCK'S SAKE!! Why the HELL modern day phones have been made SO DIFFICULT!? "Go here, click this, then scroll down and go right. Then scroll up, click left, come down and then right and you are finally here!"

Like WTF!? In the past if you wanted to put pics or music in your phone you just connected your phone via USB cable to laptop, opened phone's folder (picture or music) and just copied the things there! Not anymore! Now I had to go through folders and folders and folders to even find a fucking things!

Same with finding something from settings. You opened settings, found clock and then clicked it open and there you could change it's size etc. But now? HOHOHHOHO! In your face, bitch! Nothing like that doesn't exist anymore!

I honestly HATE getting myself new phone. Each and every time it's been frustrating and annoying, whole day lasting struggle! I wouldn't had gotten myself a new phone if there still would had been enough space in my old one. I hope I would survive next 5-6, hopefully more, years with this bastard.

But this fucker also CONSTANTLY keeps saying there's issues of me logging in! Tumblr's password is wrong (um, no), Microsoft has issues to let me sign in, I also couldn't login there with my gmail because there is issue too etc.

I'm honestly so fed up with this fucking phone.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

My prompt for when you wake up is that I miss Ghost Peter and Not Ghost Aro. I forget if you ever did something like this, but I would loove for Peter to steal Aro's computer and money to buy dvds of Peter’s shows and make him watch them with him. (Possibly with a very large bucket of popcorn neither of them are able to consume)

I legit do not believe I ever did have Peter do something like this, but I think he may have had Aro watch stuff on youtube with him.

This, however, is much funnier.

Warning: mentioned death, Peter being a little shit (as usual)

On with the fic!

--

It had been one of his best tricks yet, if Peter was allowed to toot his own horn on the matter.

Aro wasn't as clever as he thought when it came to hiding his platinum (because of fucking course he had the best kind) card from the ghost, nor was he good with passwords. Really? The year of his transformation and his birth city?

Okay, yes, that took Peter five tries, but it was surprising how quick he figured that one out.

Once he has access to Aro's internet (and swapping the language feature to English because fuck if he knows Italian outside of basic shit like foods and molto bene), he got right down to being the pest that he was.

It took a few weeks, because international shipping sucks, before a package arrived. Peter was quick to grab it before any of the human servants or one of those sparkling fuckers spotted it, and brought it to Aro's chambers.

He found the vampire himself in there, looking over something on his laptop, probably vampire mafia business, before he rudely dropped the package on the desk.

Aro paused, glanced at it, before looking up in the direction Peter was hovering in. "I take it you found my card. Again."

"Hiding it in your 'wine' cabinet was probably your dumbest location yet. As if I'm not gonna try to break in to see if there was anything real in there."

"I don't drink wine." Aro replied, either knowing he made a quote or didn't know. He probably did, he was the kinda bastard who would.

"Yeah, yeah, and technically I can't, but I can get drunk off enough vapors in this form." Peter opened a drawer with a flick of his wrist, he was getting so much better about movements, and found what he was looking for.

Using the letter opener, which was probably worth more than half of Peter's old flat, he sliced open the tape on the package and grinned at the contents inside. Aro peered inside, frowned, and shook his head. "No, I will not watch those with you."

"I didn't even ask!"

"I know you well by now, young Vincent, and I know that you will insist that we indulge in your... purchase."

"It's good, don't knock it 'til you try it, assbutt."

It took a bit of arguing before Peter was able to finally get Aro annoyed and exhausted enough to finally agree. Peter was giddy as he got the first DVD ready in Aro's laptop before vanishing down to the human quarters of the villa, and was surprised to find popcorn there.

It took a bit of struggling, but he was able to make some sort of excuse of popcorn for this, and returned to Aro's office. The vampire looked at the bowl with a slight rise of his eyebrow. "It's for the atmosphere of enjoyin' a good show, you prawn." Peter sniffed and sat down on the desk.

The DVD was started and they watched what was one of Peter's earliest versions of his show, from its first year on stage. Peter spent much of the viewing either making bad attempts at trying to eat his treat (which just ended up on the floor), or telling Aro off for his clearly-insulting comments and questions.

It was his first year! It wasn't like it was going to be perfect from the get-go! Though it was still pretty damn good, he couldn't deny that.

They moved onto two more of the several DVDs Peter had bought, showing altered versions of his stage show, including the one he did every Halloween. He liked to dub it the Extra Spooky edition, because it was much darker and gorier.

Aro, at least, enjoyed that one because he seemed pleased by all the fake blood that splattered around the stage and on the audience at times. He made a comment that human blood could do that if you sliced an artery just right, and Peter really didn't want to know if he learned to master that or not.

"So," Aro said as the DVD ended, "this is how you became rich and famous? Prancing about on stage like a show pony, wearing impractical leather pants and a jacket that showed more skin than protected?"

"People love campy horror, Aro. And my show was a beautiful mix of campy and goth, that perfect combo that got eighties and nineties horror fans excited. And sometimes the Hammer Horror fans, considering the unnaturally bright blood we used and my lovely fact that my name sounds like a combo of Peter Cushing and Vincent Price's names."

"Hm." Aro lifted up one of the DVD cases, looking at the image of Peter on it, in all his former, alive glory. He looked hot af on it, if Peter was allowed to be egotistical. "I cannot deny that there is a certain... allure to the impractical leather look, though the flames are a bit much."

"Not a bit much! I always needed more fire!"

"Oh yes, I'm sure you needed more flash for your show, an excellent idea."

"Thanks! That's what I've been- hey!"

[rocknrolloccultist93]

Warning: vent post, which will probably only make sense if you happen to mostly or only like music from before CD's and MP3 players were invented.

Just once. Just fucking ONCE CAN THE GODDAMN UNIVERSE STOP KILLING MUSICIANS I CAN'T AFFORD TO SEE. TAKE A BILLIONARE THAT IS CAUSING OUR PROBLEMS. TAKE A POLITICIAN. TAKE ERIC FUCKING CLAPTON BECAUSE HE'S A RACIST DICKHEAD JUST LEAVE THE OTHER DAD ROCK MUSICIANS ALONE GOD DAMNIT. I don't even have it in me to be sad anymore. I'm just fucking pissed. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT COSTS TO GO TO ONE CONCERT? I COULD LIVE 6 MONTHS ON THE PRICE OF A CONCERT TICKET IF I HAD TO. I COULD BUY A YEAR'S WORTH OF WEED. I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO BE ABLE TO AFFORD COCAINE TO GO TO A GODDAMN ROCK CONCERT OF A MUSICIAN I HIGHLY RESPECT. AND NOW THEY'RE ALL DYING. THE RICH BOOMERS, AT LEAST HALF OF WHICH ARE MISINTERPRETING THE MUSIC FOR THEIR OWN POLITICAL AGENDA AND HAVE ALREADY SEEN THEM BEFORE ARE THE ONLY ONES WHO WILL GET THAT EXPERIENCE BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL FUCKING DYING. If they only did box office sales AT LEAST I'd be able to fistfight real people to get a somewhat decent seat, but no. I HAVE TO FIGHT GODDAMN ROBOTS ON THE INTERNET KNOWING I WILL LOSE. We who actually have a lot to gain from going to a concert, don't have a chance in HELL at seing any of our favorite bands/artists, we have to sit here and FIGHT INVINCIBLE ROBOTS FOR IT. We have to DROWN IN COMPLACENCY BECAUSE WE'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO AFFORD IT. AT LEAST LET ME FIGHT THE RICH MOTHERFUCKERS FOR TICKETS AND GOOD SEATS. YOU WANNA KNOW WHY KIDS NEVER LISTEN TO GOOD MUSIC ANYMORE KAREN? HUH? BECAUSE WE DON'T HAVE A GODDAMN DOLLAR LET ALONE HUNDREDS OR THOUSANDS THAT WE CAN THROW INTO TICKETMASTER ANY TIME SOMEONE GOOD DECIDES TO TOUR NEAR US. BECAUSE ALL YOU RICH FUCKERS DON'T HAVE THE BALLS TO GIVE UP THE ENTITLEMENT YOU THINK YOU HAVE TO THESE ARTISTS WHOSE MESSAGES YOU PERVERT FOR YOUR OWN TWISTED NARRATIVE. Have the day you deserve, rich bastards, keep doing dumb shit like refusing to get vaccinated so we can take your place and make things less shitty already.

[chancedarling]

Sand, sea and surf. And a hell of a lot of sun. Chance squints against the brightness (rather more used to a darkened room filled with monitors flashing various spasms of information in a constant regurgitation, rinse, repeat... watch the gains roll in). The sea beyond looks molten, light cascading in gold and orange. A liquid lava roiling with disturbances. It seemed that everyone who was going to make it ashore had done. No more people piling up on the beach. Though there were still - piles. Some crying. Some screaming. Some barking orders.

And Chance had helped. Helped.

Because one of the first things he sees are the poles. Or more accurately - the cameras. Being watched then. Who the audience might be and the purpose for that observation was unknown. But he knows how to play a part. It comes as easy and naturally to him as breathing. It should. It's been his outward persona his entire life. The kindness. The gentle smiles. The magnanimous care giver.

And if there's overt observation, whoever may be watching certainly gave zero fucks about making that obvious. But it leads to an obvious conclusion - there may be covert observation also.

n o t e d.

The thought makes his spine itch. The last thing Chance Darling needs is any kind of exposure. All of his dealings had been expertly anonymous. War waged from behind a screen. Give him a laptop and an internet connection and he could bring down a fucking fortune five-hundred within 24 hours. Here though. On this beach with these -- people -- he's laid bare. No anonymity here. But then, he had never needed that in the beginning, had he? Just a sweet smile. Those doe eyes. The right words to the right ear and they'd be eating out of his palm in no time at all.

He's taken himself a little away from the main clamor on the beach. A little space for his own observations. Watching from further afar who was stepping up to take charge. Who was crumbling like an aged mummy. Who were the helpers. The hinderers. Those in it for others. Those in it for themselves.

It's a slightly miserable musing though as his bones ache - cold to the core from the seawater. Bruises from escaping the ship readying themselves to present black and brilliantly blue. Huffing breath into cupped hands to try to wring some life back into long numb fingers, he's surprised to see another wanderer. A little apart. Separate from the main.

He's even more surprised to see this dumb fuck dancing about in the water. The water he's likely also just escaped from. Lugging tat and trash and god knows what else onto the shore and rocks nearby.

Hoarder, gatherer, survivalist. Perhaps any and all of the above. Someone who needed - things.

And that is pretty much the opposite of the way Chance works. When you have nothing, all you have to offer is yourself and for some stupid reason - the gullible masses seemed to appreciate that oh, so much more.

Dumb becomes dumber apparently. The scavenging figure suddenly disappearing below the water with a splash. Then a panicked cry. This is one smart cookie - wandering in the waters when he can't swim? Even the fish would likely find the bloated flesh on this dozy bastards corpse distasteful. Stupid was probably sour.

However. Chance knows there are at least two of those poles within the near vicinity. Cameras. Speakers drolling the ongoing message on repeat. And it's not even a breath before he's moving at speed. They want to watch? Fine, fuckers. Watch this.

When he hits the water - it's not as much of a shock to the system as it should be. Already soaked and freezing, it's just a refresher. He's in the vicinity but dumb has disappeared. Chance can feel a stronger current here tugging at those long limbs. But there's an advantage to being long and slender... streamlined. He takes a breath and dives. Saltwater stinging his eyes - murk and bubbles obscuring much of his vision. Nothing. He resurfaces. Lungs straining - another deep breath and he goes down again - this time, fingers catching against something. Something wriggling and thrashing (panicking? probably). It almost slips from his grip before he manages to get a fistful of cloth - shirt... jacket... something. And yanks - hard.

Legs kicking for all he's worth. Free hand clawing at the water. Battling back to the surface.

He's turned around. There's a sharp - bright pain. Head colliding with the rocks off to one side. But as he extends those long - LONG - legs... there's sand beneath his toes. Back in the shallows.

Another heave and both heads are above water now. It's almost surreal. The world in half of his vision has turned a pretty pink. Vermillion gauze. Rose tinted glasses. The crack of head on the rocks had opened up a small cut above one eye. Not bad. But head injuries do like to bleed like a bastard and the blood is trickling into his left eye.

"Jayzuz fuck, mate. Put your feet down... Feet down. Can you stand? Y'alright? Come on - cough it all up. There's a pal, yeah?"

A couple of firm thumps on dumb's back to help clear those lungs.

"I gotcha... I gotcha... C'mon now. Just a little further and we're out of the soup..."

Another heave - limbs burning with the effort and they're pretty much on a shallow sandbank.

"Still in one piece there, buddy. Speak to me. I don't know if I've got it in me to carry your soggy arse back down the beach. Hey... Hey... Pal?"

Location: on the reef by the Odyssey @chancedarling

At least Zaid had the wherewithal to leave his backpack on the shoreline, before he re-entered the water. Hopefully no one would steal it. He'd propped it up quite deliberately to make it obvious someone had put it there, rather than it falling haphazardly from the cruise ship.

Because it seemed other things had toppled out of the cruise ship, including loads of luggage. Some still bobbing in the clear blue waves, others seemingly sinking to the bottom. And apparently, Zaid's survival instinct was all about hoarding supplies, as much as he could. He wasn't thinking about the immediate needs of others, he was thinking about inventory. Long-term. Wasn't that the sensible thing to do, given he wasn't a sailor, or a doctor? He might as well make himself useful by grabbing supplies.

Unfortunately, Zaid underestimated the depth of the water. It seemed alright for a while, the water reaching waist. But as he stretched towards a large piece of luggage, his fingers barely brushed the hard fabric before a large wave crashed into him. Zaid lost his balance, and his footing, falling into what felt like a riptide.

Vaguely, he saw a dark, long shape on the shore. His eyes were blurry from the briny water, but he assumed it was a person and not some kind of mysterious Slenderman creature. "Help! Help me!" he called out, with every gasp of air, before being pushed down underwater again.

[oliviayamaoka]

The Distraction (Danny Johnson / Jed Olsen / Ghostface x Reader)

Y/N encounters Ghostface, a snarky and creepy silent killer. However, he isn’t as silent as he is made out to be when you hit him with your toolbox in defense. To stall time for your survival and the progression of other generators, you decide to humor him and distract him for a long amount of time for the others.

Possible Warning: Sexual tension, slight blood, slight violence, and Danny having perverted thoughts (up to your interpretation on what he’s thinking)

You slowly vaulted over a wooden structure within Autohaven Wreckers. The green atmosphere felt very chilling and eerie, you didn’t like doing your trials in this realm. Your eyes averted to an untouched generator. Thank the Entity you didn’t hear a chainsaw revving or the menacing lullaby sung by the Huntress. Y/N kneeled down and began to work on the generator, putting their toolbox to the side. Who knew you’d become a mechanic of some sort within the Fog. 

“Shit.” You mumble as you cut your arm slightly on something within it. For a moment you had considered using your toolbox but it was better to just save it for another time.

Y/N sighed and pulled down a lever before reattaching some wires. The generators always confused you. Not in a way where you didn’t know how to fix them but how the hell did they power up the exit gates? Oh well, it didn’t matter at that point. You were forced to do this by a literal god. 

You suddenly gasped when you felt a firm grip pry you away from your generator. It must’ve been the killer. Y/N aggressively fought back and wiggled with desperate grunts and yells. You somehow managed to escape his grip, how the hell didn’t you hear him? You shoved him away but he grabbed your wrist tightly.

“Let go!” You yelled, hitting him as hard as you could since he seemed to have dropped his knife. You recognized the killer as Ghostface. He didn’t seem to think that you’d be able to get away the first time. Y/N’s eyes widened in shock and curiosity when she heard him darkly chuckle in amusement

“You’re like that bastard King.” He said to you as you both struggled. David was always verbal when ”fighting” the killers. He grunted as you kicked at his thigh, desperately trying to rip your arm away from him. 

“Since when did you start talking?” You asked him, humoring him in pure panic. Ghostface was a bit thrown off that you even responded instead of screaming at the top of your lungs. In fact, he doesn’t recall anybody saying anything back to him other than David King or Yui Kimura saying something snarky after a successful vault.

“You’d be surprised--agh!” He grunted as you smashed your toolbox into his face as hard as you could. This definitely threw him off since it hurt just as much as the pallet stuns did. Was that even allowed? He adjusted his mask to keep it from falling off. His chin sure as hell hurt.

“Sorry.” Y/N said to him almost immediately, stopping for a moment. You weren’t sure why you felt sorry for the bastard in that moment. You once did something similar with the Trapper when he accidentally stepped in his own trap, there was a moment of silence between the two of you as you both stared.

“What do you mean sorry?!” He asked you angrily but he didn’t lunge or hit you. He seemed just as confused and caught up in the moment as you. You threw your arms up in defense, it was a psychological thing.

“It was instinctual! What was I supposed to do, let you stab and hook me?” You said to him as he stood up. Ghostface was much taller up close, it was strange.

“Well, yeah. You’re only supposed to fucken wiggle or try get off of the hook. It said those were the rules.” He argued as you turned your head to the side in disbelief at his behavior. 

“Since when did you start abiding by the rules? Aren’t you supposed to be a serial killer or something?” Y/N questioned him.

“Uhhh, since that thing started torturing the other people who got trapped here. You think I wanna look like that fuckface with the chainsaw?” He said aggressively but you didn’t seem to back down at all. He was referring to the Hillbilly.

“He already looked like that, dumbass.” You say to him as he paused.

“Oh.” Ghostface responded before shaking his head to knock some sense into himself and began to try grab your wrist again. he tugged you closer when he did rather aggressively.

“What the fuck am I doing arguing with my prey.” He muttered as you pulled away again, taking a few steps back.

Ghostface, from your observation, was easily confused when talking to people. You figured it was normal since, well, when the hell did a psycho like him have time to talk to people? You recalled a conversation with Ace when you were upset due to one of your first trials. He had been previously married and referred to himself as a ladykiller, humoring the idea of trying to flirt with the Huntress. He was a wise dude despite being on the run from guys he owed money to, overall he made a good replacement father figure for a moment.

Clearly it was a bad idea but maybe instead of getting hooked or hurt, you could do what Ace jokingly suggested. It’d also be a funny story to tell some of your friends when this trial was over but it was scary thinking this could make him even more mad or aggressive. Oh, well, anything not to go through the pain again.

“Has anybody ever told you you’re handsome?” You asked, cringing at yourself for such a poor choice of wording.

“You don’t even know how I look.” He said, somewhat annoyed but loosened his grip slightly as you put your hand softly over his.

“That doesn’t matter. I feel like we could get to know eachother. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say to him as he stopped completely, baffled even.

“What?” He asked in confusion.

“Think about it, if we have a nice little chat then I’m sure the Entity wouldn’t mind. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve been curious about your artwork. Or I guess you can say photography. I’m sure you have a collection.” You said.

“Right, like a puny thing like you would even understand what I do.” Ghostface said to you, crossing his arms. Admittedly, he seemed to slowly forget his objective when he began to even talk to you. Even he didn’t know why he kept responding to you.

“A puny thing like me? Oh, please. I’ve seen my fair share of blood and gore on the internet. I bet your photos wouldn’t even make me budge.” Y/N said.

“Really, now? I have a collection of photos of you and your little friends.” He said, getting rather defensive. Such a fragile ego, you thought.

“Oh, so you take photos of me?” You asked, pulling him closer. He seemed to freeze up when he was inches away from your face. Despite wearing the mask, he felt vulnerable. Why? You were just a survivor meant to be slaughtered.

“I don’t mean it like that.” He said firmly, although, it wouldn’t be a bad idea since you were rather attractive to him. Both physically and personality-wise. The thought amused him but he shook his head slightly.

“Shame. I could’ve offered you a special photoshoot.” Y/N said, enjoying getting into character at this point since all the generators should be done soon.

“A what?” He said, finally flustered. You couldn’t blame him. A survivor was practically seducing him. A part of him wanted to give in since he already wasted so much time just talking to you. There were, of course, other needs he needed satisfied. The idea of him showing no mercy on you got him hot and bothered.

“A special photoshoot. Just me and you, uhh... Ghostface?” You said to him, resting your eyes. 

“It’s Danny--I mean, Jed.” He said to you. You raised your eyebrows in surprise that he even told you his name, you could even swear your cheeks warmed up for a second. No. no, you thought. Do not get distracted.

“Jed, huh? Sounds easy to yell.” You responded with a smirk. 

At this point, Ghostface decided he definitely wanted you. He quickly gave into his desire since he had his own desires and fantasies he wanted to put at ease. Plus, a survivor like you giving yourself to him? It sounded too good to be true in his own dirty, messed up standards. He silently smirked behind his mask. Hooking and killing wasn’t the only way he wanted to hurt you now. He saw this as a way to properly get back at you for hitting him with your toolbox.

What did you get yourself into, he thought menacingly. Unbeknownst to him, you were already one step ahead of him. Ghostface wrapped his hands around your waist and brought you closer to him. Y/N froze for a moment but brushed her knee against his upper thigh in a rather suggestive manner. She didn’t think it would work yet it did.

“So, when do you want to do this, baby?” He asked you in a lower tone. You felt your cheeks flush and your heartrate beginning to increase but you had to stand your ground for a few more seconds. You looked away for a moment with an unimpressed stare.

“You’re such a gentlemen.” You said sarcastically, pushing away from him by his chest. The feeling of his leather and fabric was firm, you kinda liked that.

“Now what?” He asked in frustration. Your eyes averted towards the tools spread out on the ground from the box. Y/N came up with an idea.

“Pick my stuff up for me and maybe we can do something... quick.” You said, tugging your shirt downwards suggestively. 

“Okay, okay. Fine.” Ghostface responded to you sarcastically.

He turned to look at the tools on the ground. Kneeling down, he set the toolbox upright and began to put the tools back. Ghostface found it interesting how such small tools can play a big part in fixing the generators faster. He’d be pissed off if some random fucker like the Clown came and busted it up after long, hard work. You watched him actually do as you asked. It was somewhat heartwarming. No, actually, it wasn’t. You didn’t wanna catch feelings for him.

Y/N looked around, inhaling quietly. He seemed focused on picking up the smaller tools. You weren’t sure when to make your move. Suddenly, a horn blasted. A feeling of relief washed through your body. His head popped up as you quickly sprinted away from him. Ghostface whipped his head around. 

“Shit, fuck...!” He muttered. It was at this point where he realized what you did. He felt angry at himself for giving into his urges instead of just hooking you and killing you and your little friends. Ghostface smashed your toolbox against the generator in anger.

Standing up, he put his knife away. Despite being furious, he still found you attractive and confident for even trying that with him. It fueled a different urge within him. Oh, he would definitely make you pay. Not from the hooks, of course. He smirked at the idea of it and began to walk off to the other door once he began to calm down.

Y/N, he thought. 

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 120

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

Chapter 120: The Thirteenth Door

Right after the new year, it came about time for Gu Longming to enter his door.

Ruan Nanzhu selected a sixth door hint slip, and on it was a name familiar to all—Minotaur. A monster from ancient Greek mythology with a bull's head and a human's body that guarded a maze.

In the myth, it was a creature of an extremely violent temperament born of a human and a white bull. Shut away in the Labyrinth on the island of Crete, it ate seven pairs of boys and girls each year. Then it was killed by a bastard son of Athens, Theseus. Point was, there wasn't much intel to gain about the door from a hint like this. Only once they went in and encountered the actual situation could they connect it to the hint on the paper slip.

Lin Qiushi also showed this hint to Gu Longming ahead of time. After Gu Longming received it, he expressed his thorough gratitude for Lin Qiushi, and Lin Qiushi too was forthright with a vaccination—he said that in this door, he could not be responsible for Gu Longming's life, and Gu Longming ought to prepare himself accordingly.

Gu Longming agreed to every stipulation, and said he had already prepared himself for never coming out.

Their time of entry was roughly the tenth of the lunar new year, when celebrations were trailing off, leisurely vacations were coming to an end, and everybody grew busy again.

Lin Qiushi readied everything and began to wait for the door.

The tenth quickly came. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and few people were in the mansion. There was only Lin Qiushi sitting in the living room eating Lu Yanxue's freshly cooked pumpkin seeds. Lu Yanxue's culinary skills were, as usual, the best; the pumpkin seeds she fried up were flavored with the five spices and fragrant as all hell. Lin Qiushi could pass an entire afternoon with just a handful of the stuff.

Ruan Nanzhu had already gotten changed and was waiting upstairs. Lin Qiushi saw that it was about time, and so hoisted his hefty backpack and headed upstairs to go look for him.

Due to their last door, Lin Qiushi intentionally stuffed his bag with a great number of food items. Daily necessities from outside could be brought inside, but weapons that were more against the spirit of the doors were not. Guns and other firearms, for example, could not be brought inside.

Once you'd entered the doors, of course, there might exist some special limitations, like in the sanitarium door when the NPC told them the rule where they could not eat food brought in from the outside. The reality was that these kinds of limitations were rare, but all Lin Qiushi wanted to achieve was the principle of Better Safe Than Sorry. At any rate, the condition from the tenth door where they had to open a chest if they wanted to eat had left quite the shadow on his psyche.

Lin Qiushi entered Ruan Nanzhu's bedroom and sat with him on the bed for a while. Then he felt the atmosphere around him change. It took only the time of a blink for Ruan Nanzhu, who had been sitting right beside him, to disappear without a trace. Lin Qiushi pushed open the bedroom door in front of him and saw that what had originally been the hallway was now a series of twelve black metal doors. What a familiar sight.

He walked to the sixth door and gave it a tug. The next moment, Lin Qiushi was sucked in by an immense force. The scenery around him was also altering dramatically, and by the time he opened his eyes again, he could feel a faint rocking beneath his feet.

Lin Qiushi took a closer look, and discovered that he'd appeared on a large old ship. It was just about sunset, and there were black clouds frighteningly low in the sky, as if they were going to smother the horizon at any moment. Inky seawater tossed before him, blown into violent waves by the winds.

Lin Qiushi smelled the gamy salt of the ocean, and because of the excessive waves, the ancient deck beneath his feet was ceaseless in its swaying. He saw that on the floorboards, there were seaweed-clung creatures clutching at the wood, making for an immensely uncomfortable sight.

Lin Qiushi took a few steps forward and saw in the ship cabin a dim-glowing light. He followed the corridor to the interior, and heard miserable wailing coming from inside.

"Uwaaaa, why am I here? What the hell did you all do to me?!" It had been a while since he last heard these cries of a newbie—Lin Qiushi was actually a bit surprised. He spotted the crying person immediately. It was a young woman, wiping at her tears with her hands. "You goddamn perverts, you guys must have kidnapped me. I'm going to call the cops and have you all arrested!!"

Most people were listening to her sob in silence. Newbies, after all, only ever reacted in so many ways: most cried; some tried to run; and some, of the truly psychologically frail sort, came in and pretty much had an immediate meltdown.

Lin Qiushi stood where he was. He noticed that around this girl were a few people who didn't look so good, who also seemed in various degrees of panic. They clearly weren't prepared to enter a door, and were likely newbies like the girl. But at least they weren't wailing endlessly like the young woman, and were still calm in comparison.

Lin Qiushi's gaze searched through the crowd and very quickly found its target—a woman seated in a corner and smiling at him.

The woman wore a long dress—the same outfit Ruan Nanzhu wore before they came in.

Lin Qiushi had the script in his head, and he took his time approaching the woman and holding out his hand: "Yu Linlin."

"Zhu Meng." The woman took his hand and smiled. "The red thread of destiny found us inside this door, let's cherish this meeting."

Lin Qiushi couldn't help but laugh.

"Indeed. Let's cherish this meeting."

Really, this little drama queen of his—putting on a show even when there was no stage to be had.

Just as the two were talking, a young man came tumbling in through the door. Though his face was unfamiliar, his clothes told Lin Qiushi his identity—it was Gu Longming, who'd agreed to meet with Lin Qiushi over the internet.

Gu Longming was entirely soaked. Once he came in he began to curse under his breath: "fuckers, throwing me on a lifeboat—why don't you just throw me into the ocean huh? Goddamn jealous of my beauty or what—"

Though he kept his voice down, Lin Qiushi's hearing was superb, and so could easily hear all the crap he was spewing. For a moment, Lin Qiushi himself didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Of course, he didn't laugh. He only cleared his throat once and covered his mouth with his hand, swallowing down the urge to smile. Gu Longming's eyes lapped the gathered people and very quickly fell upon Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu. He came over with a bright grin, greeting the two as if they'd just met completely by coincidence.

As a matter of act, this little trick where they faked a chance encounter was only useful for the earlier doors. Once in the later doors, that old fox-spirit manifested in everyone, and not having a partner actually made you the odd one out.

As for whether or not somebody would identify them as part of the same crew, Lin Qiushi used to worry about that. Now though, not so much.

The cabin of the old ship wasn't big, nor was it bright. The only lighting equipment was a handful of tiny kerosene lamps overhead, flickering periodically with the sway of the ship.

The sky grew darker outside, and the number of people kept increasing. Finally, it stopped at the count of fourteen.

Everybody assessed their surroundings as they met up with their own teammates. The crowd seemed to be very quickly divided up into teams, with the handful of newbies left out. Without much choice, they had to make up their own team.

Just as the crowd grew noisy with discussion, a middle-aged man came in from the outside. His get-up looked a bit like a medieval pirate, and he carried a swaying kerosene lamp in his hand.

"Welcome to the Black Skerry," the man spoke. His voice sounded quite raspy, like the effects of long-term drinking or smoking had brought about irreversible damage to his throat. "I hope you all have a good time here."

After he finished saying this, he laughed like a maniac, and his high-pitched laughter, like fingernails scoring a chalkboard, sent goosebumps rising along the skin.

"In ten days, the Black Skerry will reach harbor," the man said. "Our voyage will end then, so please enjoy our wonderful time together."

Just as he finished speaking, somebody rushed out of the cabin. Lin Qiushi first thought that this person had gotten scared, but not long after, there came from outside the sound of violent vomiting—it seemed that some unlucky bastard was seasick.

"Where in the world are we?" The sobbing young girl had also been scared by the man before her, and she spoke: "are we filming a show? I'm really, really scared, can I please quit? I don't want to play anymore, I'm begging you…"

The man completely ignored her. He merely went on watching the crowd with a cool gaze.

The girl seemed to want to go up and take hold of him, but when she got to his side she suddenly stopped, face draining of all color. She then backed up a few steps, as if she'd seen something truly terrifying.

Lin Qiushi's eyesight wasn't as good as Ruan Nanzhu's, and due to the dim lights he didn't see a thing. It was Ruan Nanzhu who quietly explained the situation to him:

"That person's covered in some sort of black insect."

Gu Longming shivered.

"Is he dead or alive then?"

"I don't know," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Doesn't look too good either way."

Under typical circumstances, only the NPC who provided them with the key information was somewhat normal. If even that NPC wasn't normal, then there really weren't any normal people to speak of.

Lin Qiushi hadn't imagined that their door this time would be an ancient ship. And by the looks of things, the time limit was ten days.

"Come along, I'll take to to where you'll sleep," the man said. "It'll be dark soon…and it'll rain."

After this, he began that manic laugh again, and the group was even more disturbed.

The man brought them to the guest cabins and began divvying up the rooms.

Most of the rooms here were doubles, with a rare triple here and there. At first, Lin Qiushi was assigned a double, but Gu Longming brazenly went and found a man to switch room numbers with, strong-arming them into a triple.

"You'll bargain for even this sort of thing?" Lin Qiushi shot Gu Longming a look of admiration.

"Well I'm scared of dying, aren't I…" Gu Longming said. He didn't want to sleep alone, and though it wasn't quite right to be a third wheel, being a third wheel was much better than being dead.

Ruan Nanzhu’s smile was inscrutable.

"That's fair."

They'd planned to inspect the entire ship, but because the night was already so dark, moving about outside would be too dangerous. They would rest first, and wait until tomorrow to make plans.

And so the three got their key and went to their room, getting into bed after quickly washing up.

When Ruan Nanzhu went to change, Gu Longming took the opportunity to poke at Lin Qiushi, whispering, "yo, not cool man, how come you didn't tell me you had such a pretty girlfriend?"

Lin Qiushi answered a vague: "…mh."

"Oh she's stunning," Gu Longming said with a sigh. "If I had a girlfriend like that I'd want to stick around her every day too."

As he spoke, he looked to Lin Qiushi with an expression that was both envy and admiration.

Lin Qiushi watched him back and wondered how he would react if he knew Ruan Nanzhu was drag queen. Of course, it wasn't something he could tell Gu Longming now. Gu Longming was not yet part of Obsidian, and the fact that Ruan Nanzhu wore drag was Obsidian's biggest most vital secret…

After Ruan Nanzhu got changed, he came back inside.

"What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing," Lin Qiushi answered in brief. "He said you were pretty."

Ruan Nanzhu replied with a meaningful oh.

Gu Longming: "…" Why did a chill suddenly go down his back?

The beds on the ship all emanated a damp smell—very uncomfortable for the people lying on top. At this point, the waves and wind were getting bigger, and even the sleeping quarters were beginning to rock. Lin Qiushi remembered that ridiculously seasick, endlessly vomiting pal of theirs from earlier and thought that that guy was pretty much done for.

The sky outside gradually darkened in entirety, leaving only the bellowing winds and the sound of waves beating against each other. With his eyes shut, Lin Qiushi grew drowsy—but before he could fall asleep, he was woken by a sudden crack of thunder. It was like lightning had struck right above their heads. With the loud boom, all three of them awoke in an instant.

After that, it was the pattering pour of rain. The rushing rain and the howling wind—they seemed on the verge of destroying everything.

Their quarters rocked even harder. Lin Qiushi sat up in his bed.

Through the window, he looked to the black evening outside. He saw, however, two illuminated lights. It seemed like the only light sources on deck were kerosene lamps, but how did these lamps stay so bright in the middle of a thunderstorm…? Just as Lin Qiushi wondered this, he suddenly felt that there was something off about those two lights, and Ruan Nanzhu, sitting behind him, spoke up quietly:

"Don't look anymore."

Lin Qiushi, "hm?"

"Those aren't lights," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Those are eyes."

A pair of yellow, inhuman eyes. The owner of the eyes spied through the darkness with malicious intent, as if a beast looking for its prey.

Lin Qiushi instantly looked away, and asked, "what is that thing?"

"I don't know, I can't tell," Ruan Nanzhu said. "The shape is humanoid, but it doesn't seem to be human."

Lin Qiushi's brows lightly furrowed, but by the time he looked out the window once more, the eyes were gone.

Thunder rumbled on and on, and that stench of ocean salt grew thicker and more cloying.

Ruan Nanzhu climbed into Lin Qiushi's bed, and holding each other, the two very quickly returned to sleep. However, the only bachelor present Gu Longming didn't have such luck. Lying beside Lin Qiushi, he stared with plaintive eyes, thinking that in the following days, he'd be fed enough dog food to bloat.

The rainstorm lasted until dawn, and though the rain let up, the weather did not turn any sunnier. Black storm clouds still hovered over the ship, and when the alarm rang, Lin Qiushi actually thought it was not yet morning. He checked the time, however, and saw that it was 8AM. It was just still dark outside.

"Good morning," Ruan Nanzhu greeted Lin Qiushi.

"Good morning. It's so dark outside today."

"It's probably going to keep raining," Ruan Nanzhu said. He walked out onto deck with Lin Qiushi and watched the black waters roil underneath the ship.

Looking up, they couldn't see any land, only the endless swath of sea. Only the old ship beneath their feet felt like any sort of reality.

This sort of isolating environment was easily taxing on the psyche. Even for Lin Qiushi, the scene before them was discomforting.

"Come on, let's go get breakfast," Gu Longming called to the two.

"He's pretty thick-skinned," Ruan Nanzhu commented after hearing Gu Longming's call.

"Yeah," Lin Qiushi said. "His nerves are petty good."

Inside the doors, you didn't have to be too smart, but you definitely had to be brave enough. Before terrifying situations, fright could make a person abandon a large part of their cognitive abilities. The smartest person could lack a strong heart and still do worse inside the door than the obtuse, oblivious Cheng Qianli.

The three went to the dining area and found there an atmosphere that could very well be called lifeless.

Lin Qiushi didn't know why at first. After he saw the menu, however, he couldn't help but also feel a touch of depression.

All the ship offered was fish. And it wasn't even fresh fish—Gu Longming poked at a dead-eyed staring head with his chopsticks and said, "is this thing even edible?"

It was disgusting just to look at.

"It looks gross," Lin Qiushi said. "Try a bit?"

Gu Longming took a bit of meat from the gills and gave it a taste. His expression twisted.

"Fuck, did they deduct the food budget for this door or what? It's disgusting. It's like they’ve had it outside for three days. You try it?"

Lin Qiushi, "oh no, no thank you."

Gu Longming: "…"

The breakfast served in the dining room was, for the most part, stale fish. Aside from that there was only flavorless noddles and peas. The environment had already been vicious enough, but the food in front of them now was salt on top of the wound.

But Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu didn't care at all. After seeing the inedible breakfast they snuck back to their room and fetched from their bags the food they'd prepared.

Gu Longming watched as they pulled out a bottle of chili sauce, eyes bulging out.

"You guys even brought Lao Gan Ma? Did you come here to picnic?"

"Want some?" Lin Qiushi drizzled the Lao Gan Ma over some noodles they'd brought out of the dining hall.

"Yeah yeah yeah. More please." Gu Longming's expression was shameless.

With breakfast finally done, they got ready to search the ship.

There were a total of three decks in the ship, constructed a bit like the sailing vessels of the great nautical era of the Middle Ages. It was extremely old, was all, covered in the marks and traces of times past.

Beside that NPC, they didn't see any other crew members on deck; there was likely only the one NPC on the entire ship. Wait for the ship's return was the mission the NPC left for them this time, but Lin Qiushi had thorough reason to believe that if they couldn't find the door in ten day's time, this voyage of theirs would cycle back and repeat—and they'd experience the ten days all over again.

When Lin Qiushi climbed onto the second deck, he heard a sort of thumping sound, and was uncertain if Ruan Nanzhu and Gu Longming had heard it as well. So he asked, "did you guys hear that?"

"What?" Gu Longming didn't seem to have heard.

Ruan Nanzhu said, "I think I did, but not very clearly."

"I think it came from the corner…" Lin Qiushi followed the sound forward. "Let's go see."

But before they could get close, Lin Qiushi was hit with a thick, fishy stench. It was disgusting and nauseating to smell; fortunately Cheng Yixie wasn't here, or he might have passed out immediately upon smelling it.

The source of the sound and smell was the same room, and they were close enough now that both Gu Longming and Ruan Nanzhu could hear the thumping noise as well.

The three of them slowed their steps, and through the window, looked into the room.

It was a kitchen with knives and other tools hanging inside. The most eye-catching thing, however, was the dense masses of dead fish hung up on hooks all over the sides.

A person in an apron stood in the center of the room with their back towards them and head down. They were chopping something. After some observation, Gu Longming almost gagged, and said, "don't tell me he's making our breakfast—"

Ruan Nanzhu was very calm.

"It's possible."

Gu Longming did gag. He'd even had a bite of that fish that morning.

Lin Qiushi gave Gu Longming a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

This person in the kitchen, however, was the second living NPC they'd found on the ship.

The three of them stood watching in the kitchen doorway for a while, and saw that besides chopping fish, this person didn't do much of anything else. And so they decided to go see elsewhere first.

Very soon, they discovered a more peculiar room. This room was locked, and curtains were drawn over the window. It was quiet inside, but they could still smell that thick waft of stale fish. Lin Qiushi initially thought the smell had clung to them from the kitchen, but after a careful sniff, found that it was coming from inside the room.

"Do we go in?" Gu Longming was pressed against the window trying to look in, but he could see nothing.

Ruan Nanzhu gave this some thought, before saying, "let's try," and getting out a hairpin to pick the lock.

Watching his adept motions, Gu Longming's eyes widened. Then Gu Longming glanced at Lin Qiushi.

"Is this…is this a basic skillset that y'all come with?"

Lin Qiushi grinned as he joked, "yeah. You have to learn to pick locks if you want to join us."

As he said this, there was a click. Ruan Nanzhu really got the lock open. But oddly enough, after he unlocked the door and gave it a push, he found that though the door lock was undone, there was another lock hanging on the inside. The chain on that lock held the door closed, and they could at most manage a crack—it couldn't be opened at all.

"Wait," Lin Qiushi suddenly said, stopping Ruan Nanzhu from going up and pushing the door. "Stop for a second. There's movement inside."

Ruan Nanzhu halted, and just as he stopped mid-step, a hand, sharp-nailed and covered in scales, reached out of the door. And through that crack in the door, a pair of yellow eyes looked out, peering at the world outside with malicious intent.

Translator’s Note:

The name of the ship could more simply be translated as “Black Reef,” but “Black Skerry” sounds more like a ship name? Let me know if you think otherwise (or know if it’s a specific reference to something).

Lao Gan Ma is a brand of **hot sauce (edited: 7/26), as you can probably tell from context. The original next never uses “hot sauce” though, and just call it Lao Gan Ma in both the prose and the dialogue.

[Ch. 119] | [Ch. 121]