To Your Moralless Novel Novels & Stories

“And what was that? He was acting so proud and mighty one second, and as soon as he found out who he was messing with, he turned tail and ran? Isn’t he embarrassed? What was even the point of him coming to talk to us in the first place?” Blackie felt the need to pitch in, “Think of it this way, what is the point of cannon fodder in a novel?” “In this context? So, he can jump out and make trouble for the main character?” Noah suddenly paused and then gaped, “Don’t tell me that this dude will come back to make trouble for me?!? But I didn’t even do anything!! This is completely illogical!!!” Blackie snickered, “And you expect logic from trashy novels that come up with random cannon fodder–

"He made you too perfect! He made you a saint who survives everything! It’s unrealistic! People don't survive 'System Warfare' and 'Dark Fantasy'! They break! They get tired! They lose their hair and their hope!" ​She stepped into Nora’s personal space, the red pen hovering over Nora’s heart. "I’m going to write you an ending that is Mundane. You won't die a hero. You’ll just... fade away in a quiet suburb, forgotten by the readers who moved on to the next 'Top Novel'." ​The Break in the Fourth Wall ​Nora looked at the man in the security shirt. "Help us! You're the Author!" ​The man looked down at his curdled coffee. "I... I can't, Nora. She’s the one who pays the electricity bill for the s

Only if I had known my soul would have been sold for nothing, I would have ended it. The room hadn't changed a bit all these years. Same dark walls that made the room intimidating and the absolute perfection in the way it was organized just as its owner, hiding all that evil just barely underneath the surface, simmering and waiting for the perfect time to strike its prey. I repressed a shudder and took a seat waiting for him to notice my presence in the room. He was writing in a journal on the desk, I had always wondered what he wrote in there, the number of people he killed, or the latest mission he accomplished?

Hahaha. This is not just the end. It’s the beginning of Book Two. A morally gray story about two unexpected side characters. Guess…

And for a minute, I just sit there, glaring at the ceiling like it owes me rent. Then, I glance to my right. And there it is. The only good thing about today. Devil’s Muse. A thick, absolutely sinful romance novel I pulled from the stack of books Janet got from the hospital library. The kind that has zero shame and maximum plot twists. The kind that doesn’t ask me to heal or forgive myself or do the inner work. No. This book asks me to shut up and watch the enemies-to-lovers pair absolutely ruin each other emotionally and then physically—with very vivid, very illegal levels of detail.

“You really think you’re living inside that trashy novel. What’s next? Are you going to go recruit five more boyfriends for yourself?” “It’s part of the plot,” I said with full moral righteousness. “I’m respecting the story’s development. So stop getting in my way.” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Wonderful. I didn’t realize you could be this insane. I’ve been going easy on you because I didn’t want you to get tired.” My eyes instantly reddened. He never cared about what I felt. Not once. Because in that no-morals reverse-harem story, my suffering was basically a feature.

But I knew it hurts and making me feel bad. I didn’t want to be attached, at kahit ilang beses pa akong nag panggap na itong buhay nato ang nasa loob lang ng isang nobela na hindi ko man lang nabasa. Hindi man lang ako na bigyan ng pagkakataon na mabasa ito. And for killing someone who exist on this book with my own accord feels nauseating. All my morality from my life felt it lost its meaning, it wasn’t even self defense but a pure murder.

Sometimes what I learn is amazing and has me feeling like a child looking at the world in wonder, and other times it makes me want to shake the shit out of him and ask him if they make supernatural therapists because he sure as fuck needs one. I was able to accept what Ezillus told me about Jartre’s – for lack of a better term – psychotic break but learning just five years ago he intentionally murdered innocent people and tortured another…THAT'S pushing my limits. It’s not like I can go to the police, and as horrified and disgusted as I am, I don’t feel like I have a right to my moral outrage. No magical person is out for his blood. The guy he wronged ended up coming to HIM apologising and w

I gestured at the fragments, at them, at the invisible threads between us “—into law.” “Law?” Jax said. “That’s a big word for horror, girl.” “Stories are just laws with better PR,” I said. “Right now, its story says: you come here, you get used, you burn, the end. I want to write one where this thing still processes regret, but it doesn’t own you to do it. Where every soul it touches gets a choice in how much they give and how long they stay. Where nobody gets welded into the engine just because they are good at bleeding.”

She dropped to all fours, back curved. A growl came from her throat . No words, just harsh animal sound. I could feel it too. My growl built up within me. I ripped my shirt off hastily. Cold air struck my nipples, causing them to stiffen. I kicked my boots off and pulled my jeans down. My cock burst out, rigid, veiny . Pre-cum dripped away. I dropped down to all fours like she did. We crept around one another slowly. Like wolves checking each other out .