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#fantasy stories
savethegrishaverse · 2 months
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Hey Grishaverse! We know that one of the closest things to a ball or formal celebration in Ravka is the Winter Fete. Why not reblog with what you would wear if you were invited to the Fete - a beautiful chance to get dressed up!
(shoutout to our sister fandom Lockwood & Co. for the idea!)
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witchthewriter · 1 month
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆
ENTJ
Slytherin
Lawful Good / Neutral Good
Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising
The Mentor: A wise and experienced character who guides and advises the hero, providing knowledge, skills, and guidance.
The Cunning Strategist: this character is known for their intelligence, sharp wit, and ability to manipulate situations to their advantage. They excel in political maneuvering and outsmarting their opponents.
The Fallen Hero: The Fallen Hero archetype represents a character who was once noble or heroic but has fallen from grace. They may have succumbed to their flaws, made tragic mistakes, or been corrupted by power. The Fallen Hero often grapples with guilt, redemption, or the desire to reclaim their former glory.
I will always see John as some type of leader. A leader of a wolf pack, or the King's Guard. Even a team of immortals. His task force would shift between each universe, but his station always stays the same. Price is the eldest and the leader of the men.
𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑹𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚
INTJ
Ravenclaw
Neutral Good
Capricorn Sun, Scorpio Moon, Virgo Rising
The Guardian: A character who protects or defends a person, place, or idea, often serving as a source of strength and support. I can see him taking stray kids under his wing, and taking care of them.
The Knight: Is a character archetype in stories that embodies chivalry, honor, and a strong sense of duty. I think the strong sense of duty is most previlent here. I think he would even be the King's Champion.
The Rebel: A character who challenges authority, norms, or societal expectations, often seeking change or liberation. After seeing all the pain and suffering from the villagers/those less fortunate around him, he would snap. Wanting to help them.
Simon reminds me of both Geralt and Sandor Clegane. I think he would do well both within a group setting (with his teammates) or going out and doing something indepedently.
𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉
ESFP
Ravenclaw
Neutral Good / Chaotic Good
Aquarius Sun, Taurus Moon, Sagittarius Rising
The Trickster: A mischievous and cunning character who uses wit and deception to achieve their goals or disrupt the plans of others.
The Wise Fool: The Wise Fool archetype is a character who appears foolish or simple-minded on the surface but possesses unexpected wisdom or insight. They often use humor and unconventional behavior to challenge social norms, offer unique perspectives, or deliver profound truths.
The Loyal Companion: The Loyal Companion archetype is a faithful and devoted ally to the protagonist. They offer unwavering support, loyalty, and may serve as a moral compass or voice of reason.
I think Johnny is a bit of a difficult one, because he's both humorous - which can place him in the archetype of jokester & comedic relief. But maybe thast just makes him ... a wild card? Hence I think that' why people often give him the hybrid of werewolf.
𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌
ISFP
Gryffindor
Chaotic Good
Gemini Sun, Virgo Moon, Cancer Rising
The Romantic Interest: A character who forms a romantic connection or relationship with the protagonist, often adding depth and emotional tension to the story.
The Underdog: A character who faces significant challenges or disadvantages but ultimately triumphs against the odds.
The Sage: The Sage archetype represents wisdom, knowledge, and enlightenment. Sages are often revered for their insights and serve as a source of guidance or counsel for the protagonist.
God this man could fit into so many archetypes. He is just ... the perfect character. He can still have character development, however, he can still be put forward as a fully formed character. Romantic, loving, intelligent, mindful. He likes to sit back and learn about others. He's diligent in that way (hence the Underdog). I also think he's so wise. Especially for his age. And he feels the most magically inclined out of the rest of the men.
𝑲𝒐̈𝒏𝒊𝒈
ISTP
Hufflepuff
Chaotic Neutral
Aries Sun, Aquarius Moon, Leo Rising
The Outcast: A character who is marginalized or rejected by society, often possessing unique abilities, insights, or perspectives.
The Beast: A character or entity often found in stories that represents the primal, untamed, and instinctual aspects of human nature or the natural world.
The Antihero: is an archetype is a character who lacks traditional heroic qualities but still engages in heroic actions. They often possess flaws, ambiguity, or morally gray motivations.
I think there are many different ways of looking at Konig. Physically he's a powerhouse - tall asf, a tad arrogant (only because of his voicelines), somewhat dramatic. But some have written him as toxic, others like to baby girl him. I think he's a bit similar to Simon but there's more distrust about him.
What would really be great is the task force as the Knights of the Round table. I think I could see Simon or Johnny as Arthur and Kyle or Price as Merlin (obviously Kyle as a young version like the BBC Merlin).
I can also see them as pirates! I actually want to write a Pirate! Task Force. Obviously Price as the Captain, Quartermaster is Simon, Kyle as Bosun (or Boatswain) and Johnny as the Gunner (makes things go boom!)
If I had to give the men shapeshifting abilities (into one mythical animal) I would go: ▪️ John Price | 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 or 𝑪𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒖𝒓 ▪️ Simon Riley | 𝑮𝒓𝒊𝒎 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓 or 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 ▪️ Johnny MacTavish | 𝑾𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 or 𝑷𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒙 ▪️ Kyle Garrick | 𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏 or 𝑷𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒔 ▪️ Konig | 𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒌 or 𝑯𝒚𝒅𝒓𝒂
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insomniac-dot-ink · 1 year
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The Dragon’s Hoard
The first one appeared in the middle of a storm. Lightning broke the night sky and rain pounded the earth. The dragon, as most, was asleep deep within his lair, exhaling plumes of ashy smoke and warming gold beneath his belly. A violent sneeze woke the dragon, he reared his great head and snapping his barbed tail. A second sneeze followed.
Mallow the Destroyer stalked down his mound of gold and swept across his caverns. He gave a wordless roar and his breath steamed in the chilly night air. The cave echoed with his threat: “None who enter here may leave.”
A small bundle sat on the floor next to a number of black-steel swords. A little hand seemed to be curiously poking at one.
The dragon roared. “WHO FORFEITS THEIR LIFE TO MY CAVES?” Mallow thumped his mighty tale against the ground and the bundle jumped.
The thing turned and snot ran down its face. A child, no more than seven. And they were staring up at the dragon with a starry-eyed confusion. The little creature rubbed her sleeve across her snotty nose a few times and blinked.
Mallow blew hot air in her face and her blonde curls swept back. 
A ratty scarf was tied around the girl’s neck, she was bundled up in several layers, a blue coat was far too large for her. Packaged like a stuffed ham, the girl’s arms stuck out at stark angles and she toddled more than walked in a pair of secondhand boots. 
“I am Laurel,” she announced in a voice that was far too loud. She wore a pair of thick earmuffs and two sets of bandages wrapped around her head. 
Mallow narrowed his eyes, he bared his terrible teeth, and thrashed his tail and the little creature wobbled and fell onto her behind. The girl’s eyes became even larger somehow, but she didn’t weep. Didn’t flee. Didn’t run. 
“What are you doing? Tell me how you wish to die!” The dragon sneered, but it was no use. The child’s ears were stuffed and she could not hear him. Mallow was forced to dig out a cursed notebook and write down words in the common tongue.
Instead of answering, the child wiped at its snotty face and shrugged. She pointed at herself. “I am Laurel.”
Mallow might’ve eaten her or burned her to a crisp, but there was a note pinned to her overstuffed coat: for your hoard.
—-------
The first one's name was Laurel. The second was Rowan. They were sisters with black hair the texture of crow’s feathers and large eyes that made the youngest look constantly in awe and the older like she was lost in a composite maze.
They both had the same note pinned to their chest. And Mallow couldn’t eat something of his hoard– it could be valuable.
“Who approved this foolishness?” The dragon Mallow perched in front of the eldest. She held her young sister in her lap and exposed one pink ear to the draft. 
“My mother sent us,” Rowan said with a quick nod toward the mouth of the cave and a bit too loud. “She’s a witch.”
“Good for her.” 
“She’s says you’ve met before.”
Mallow narrowed his eyes. “Oh?” He gave a terrible grin with a terrible puff of his chest. “And she sent me unskilled tiny servants in response. How lovely.” “Don’t be daft,” Rowan said frankly and bounced her baby sister up and down on her knee. “Do you have any kindling?”
“I should turn you to splinters for asking,” Mallow narrowed his cat-like eyes. He enunciated slowly, “I only collect valuable things. Things worth more than your life. Things you cannot burn.”
“Aye,” the girl replied absently.
“Perhaps you should offer me something of the like in exchange for your life.”
The younger sister tugged on her sister. “Scary.” 
“Yes, yes.”
The dragon puffed up. “Your sister seems to have some sense.”
“Not you.” The sister’s eyes flicked to the dragon’s pile of whittled instruments from the Year of the Elder Crow. “We have something mum says you can’t say no to. Do you have kindling now?”
The dragon’s eyes went wide. He was a creature of want after all. “Something I can’t say no to? A Witch must like to gamble.” He repeated, smiling and leaning forward. The girl held his gaze.
“But I can’t show you ‘till tomorrow.”
The dragon circled around the children and thrashed his tails and made his threats, but Rowan was already putting her headgear back on and curling up around the other child. Mallow knew he was being played, but retribution could wait until morning.
The children were unarmed after all and he could spare some ancient tomes on taxation for their fire. 
—--
An older child named Ralph arrived in the night. A mealy child who had pick-pocket hands and a lean-dog frame. 
“No! Absolutely not,” Mallow growled. “I am not here for the village’s lost scoundrel children.”
Ralph was wearing a gauzy series of headbands and sat down next to the others, sucking in his lower lip. Mallow bared his teeth and Rowan held up something wooden and boxy in front of the dragon’s long snout.
“It’s inside.” 
He delicately picked up a box with many indents and moving parts.
“A treasure from the Witch Hazel,” Rowan said loudly, one ear exposed. “If you can solve it that is.”
“There is no manmade contraption I cannot master.” The Dragon sat back on his haunches. “I'm sure your people say that's what dragon's traded our souls for."
The new boy, Ralph, folded his arms over his chest. “Lotta good souls do us.”
“Don’t say that,” Rowan hissed at him and clutched at the Witch’s holy hawthorn around her neck.
The dragon laughed. “Perhaps he can stay. Tell me, boy, how attached to your soul are you?"
Ralph crossed his arms over his chest. "Depends on what they're offering."
"Don't humor him." Rowan met the dragon's eyes and they seemed to burn. A challenge. “Our mum says you have a soul. She sent us here. And she is the cleverest and most revered lady–”
“Bragging doesn’t suit meals," he cut her off. Mallow turned the box around in his claws.
Rowan set her jaw. “We’re using the canvases as beds.”
“Don’t you dare. You’re leaving in the morning.”
The boy that was mostly ribs sniffed, “If you can solve that thing, aye?”
The ancient dragon griped, and snarled and eventually lay down to twist the small box into different shapes. Children’s play, it had to be children's play.
—--
The children might be trying to trick that dragon. Mallow came down from the top of his pile of gold to ask for a hint on the puzzle box the next morning.
Naturally, there were five more children in the small camp. Some of these kids wore rags tied around their heads in long strips that made them seem bulbous. Two of the kids wore almost nothing at all and walked around with fingers jammed in their ears.
They all had something different clutched in their puny hands or tied to their wastes with a note. For your treasure. For the dracon. Foyr yur horde.
The Dragon reared up. “I do not collect children.” He shook the cavern. Two of the kids stumbled forward and shoved puzzles made of hoops or stones at him. One presented a wooden jewelry box with a riddle.
Rowan batted her eyes and said very simply, “Can you not solve these? My mother, the witch,” she emphasized, “said you could.”
Mallow settled down in front of the older child, “Are these even solvable you urchin? Provide a hint to let me know they are not an impossible task.”
Rowan pointed at where to place his fingers.
The cave became far too lively and far too much singing and running filled the space. But some good came of it. After a great deal of twisting and complaining, Mallow conquered the cleverest of Witch Boxes.
He plucked a ring from inside the contraption and rotated it against the light. There seemed to be a small rainbow caught in the center of the jewel. “What is it?” “It’s a mood ring. A ring that can detect your mood.”
“Magic!” The dragon purred. He slipped it on the very end of his tail. “A gift indeed. What does it say, young witchling?”
“Purple means passion.” Rowan shrugged and went back to a kind of flower arrangement. “Or something.”
Mallow flicked his tail and grinned. Passion was indeed what he felt in the contest of wills with the box; proper magic.
An eerie-looking child, ghost-like and pathetic, stumbled toward him and held up a game of colored tiles. A player must “connect four” to best their opponent.
He settled down in front of the phantom child, Sally, to challenge her wits. “Very well, you may stay another night. My little hoard.”
The children ran in circles and seemed to acquiesce to the ideal through their cries of delight. —----
Dragons avoid spending time with their own kind, much less that of other species. Juveniles even worse. Which was why Mallow decided to turn them into an adequate army instead. Provided with creaky wooden swords and dinner-plate size shields, he rallied the children to prepare to do great battle.
“Yes! Yes, we will unleash the seven furies of hell and overtake the kings of the mountaintops and queens of the oceans. They will cower before us, lament their fates, and relinquish their gold to our cave."
Shrieking laughter and whooping answered Mallow. Laurel appeared to be making her wooden sword and wooden dagger kiss. Ralph was making one of the younger boys hit himself. Sally fell down, scraped her knees, and started crying. No matter, Mallow collected every medicinal wonder of the world.
His troops continued to train as Mallow dug through one of his herbal collections. He didn't see the figure appear.
Music began to play. A jaunty, slippery sound from a panpipe. The lullaby, sickly sweet and unnatural, filled the space and seemed to muffle the air itself like a blanket.
“Get off! Get off, you wanker!” 
Mallow turned in place. Ralph and others marched across the cavern, stiff-limbed and empty-eyed toward the opening. The other children were in chaos. Sally, bleeding knees and all, bodily tackled Marco to the ground and wrenched the gauze from out of his ears. The twins Lucas and Abigail wrestled on the ground, trying yank fingers out of ears.
The dragon flared his nostrils and stepped forward.
“Stop, stop!” Tears streamed down Laurel’s face as she held her sister back. She clawed bloody ribbons down Rowan’s arms, but the elder girl wrenched the earmuffs off her head and threw her to the ground, face empty.
A pair of yellow eyes glowed in the dark. The children were walking. The music played on.
Mallow leapt toward the front of the cave and let his fangs dripped molten hot. He roared, “You think to disturb the sanctity of my treasure?!”
The Pied Piper blew a sharper note, but Mallow was beyond such tricks and tore through the night with his claws. The Trickster was faster and ducked. He smiled something sour and cruel and blew a series of musical notes. The Trickster’s yellow eyes were swallowed by the dark.
A note was left in his place that simply read, PAY UP.
The dragon’s chest heaved and his breath steamed against the air. He threw himself into the sky and flew across the mountaintops, searching and lighting up the night in flames. But Pied Piper’s were not easily caught. 
Mallow returned and counted their heads. There were seventeen. Just as the number they had started with. The children looked up at him with enormous shining eyes and the younger ones threw their arms around his leg. Mallow tried to push them away and tell them of the nature of dragons: They don’t lose things.
Like many young, they didn’t seem to listen. The children slept at his feet that night.
—----
The Piper tried to lure the children away from the cave several more times. All it took was one note and one pair of ears, sometimes the Piper brought in outside children as well and laid traps and schemes. Sometimes he simply grabbed one child under his arm and ran.
“They must pay,” he repeated like a rabid man. “They must pay their debts.”
Dragons however, did not pay prices. And he did not tolerate being stolen from. No matter how far the bard ran, the dragon was faster. He plucked Ralph back from the man’s arms and almost lit the ocean on fire. Marco and Laurel rode on his back from the dark forest.
Rowan learned to light Witch’s Fire and The Piper gained a new scar when he tried a fourth time. And a fifth.
That was the first year where no children drowned from the Town of Hoppling. Families from Bernick and Wastings and city children from the Skid Row and the fish monger districts that couldn’t pay the Piper, all arrived at the cave of the Dragon Mallow. They only had to bring a simple game and perhaps a clever riddle to share around the fire.
The Dragon gained a new name in the years he guarded his hoard and scared away the Piper. Dragons don’t have souls. But if they did, there might be one named Mallow, Saint of Children. Saint of Safety in Fire.
------
If you enjoyed the story please consider donating to my ko-fi or supporting me on patreon (even a dollar helps!), check out my Sapphic fantasy book as well!
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nateconnolly · 7 months
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These are epigraphs for chapters in a fantasy story. 
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Image ID under the cut.
Sorry about using a picture for original text. I did it because Tumblr’s line and paragraph spacing is fucking massive, and it would ruin the flow of the poetry, so I took screenshots of a Google doc. Here’s the ID. 
[Image ID: Three screenshots of poetry in Times New Roman. The titles are bolded. There is a line break between each poem.
The first picture says,
The Book of Frenzy 2:10-12
“How many have died upon the Earth? God ought to be executed for letting them die.”
And the Sons of God answered, How many have died upon the Earth?
That is how many times God has been executed for letting them die.
Psalms 129:4-5
All murder is deicide 
All murder is holy wrath 
The Book of Frenzy 2:20-28
“If the Road circles back upon itself, how should I reach the end of it?” 
The Sons of God answered, With eagerness and great haste.
“Then the Road must be nothing more than travel upon the Road.” 
The Sons of God answered, No—the Road is the traveler.
“If I am the Road, then surely I do not need to travel at all—for a road does not walk upon itself.”
And the Sons of God answered, If no one walks upon it, then it is not truly a Road.
“What is the reward at the end of the Road?”
And the Sons of God answered, This is the reward:
At the end of the Road, God will hunt you for sport.
The second picture says,
Psalm 1/First Hymn to the Ravenous Lord
O my holy Mother, you are utterly beyond measure
But all things must be measured against you
O my holy Daughter, you have brought light to the horizon
And you will bring darkness unto the light
You are wholly without equal, and all things equal you
When you sowed the fields, you made the fields
Where you do not step, no one could ever step 
You are unbounded because you are your own bounds
O my holy Neighbor, I sent a boy out to hunt
He brought back the sacred and glorious corpse of God
You delivered God into the hands of my son
You are an incomparable hunter: you perfect the art of catching
You are incomparable prey: you perfect the art of getting caught
Mantra 11
To commit suicide is to poach on God’s territory 
Mantra 23
God is a cage and the key to the cage is God
The final picture says,
Psalm 42
O my holy Son, I sent a boy to go hunt in the forests
He dragged back a fat and bloodied boar
We skinned the beast and roasted it on the fire
With salt and garlic we roasted the beast
The boy and I drank sweet wine and together we ate the meat
The meat was the boy who I sent to go hunt in the forests
Mantra 51
Only God is so swift that she could capture God
Only God is so swift that she could be captured by God
Psalms 232:10-11
The boy said, “By catching God, I became him. 
God turned me into God; that is how he escaped me.”
/end ID.]
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mdpthatsme · 5 months
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Happy launch day Scarlet Paths!
Earth After a blood ritual goes wrong, Tatiana defends a serpent falsely accused of murdering one of the members of his den. While digging through the case, she uncovers a conspiracy that may lead all the way to the Grand Den. Will the serpents tell the truth to save one of their own, or will Tatiana need the Underground's help to prove her client's innocence? Arda Between a Corrupted blight and civil war, all Vaiden wants is to return to Earth. He's tasked with killing the rebels' leader, but he still hasn't found his mark. When a blood mage destroys a fort, Vaiden races to inform the crown, but what he finds changes everything. Can the kingdom come together to stop the Corrupted, or will they end up killing each other first?
Amazon (ebook and paperback) Barnes & Noble (ebook only)
To my website for all my published works.
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blessthishouse · 8 months
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🫣 Are there any other fans of the Goblin Emperor here?
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pulpsandcomics2 · 20 days
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Fantastic Novels Nov 1949
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erinsintra · 7 months
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coming up with cool fantasy names is tiring as fuck. is it okay if i only use normal people names for my stories???????? (by "normal people" i mean actual, real-world names. john smith and salah ad-din yusuf ibn ayyub are both equally normal to me)
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The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- A Rough Introduction
It seemed the Eswa Adventurer’s Guild was the place to be tonight. The music was playing, the beer was flowing… And at the bar, Sterling Van Broom, a broomstick of a man with a curled handlebar mustache and a haughty expression was discussing some more sinister work with the guild master.
“So, do you have anyone for the job?”
The guild master sighed, rubbing his right temple and cursing the god that brought this man into his guild. He glanced over the adventurers in the room, the happy go lucky halflings singing about their latest heroics, the cheery gnomes playing cards, the delighted elves and humans mingling together after the successful defeat of a red dragon… and then his gaze stopped at the table in the far corner, tucked away just out of sight from anyone casually entering the guild.
“For something like that, you’re gonna want Manyboots and her friend,” the guild master said, pointing towards that table.
Sterling looked at the table, where a person was having an animated conversation with a statue. He couldn’t get a better look, all he could tell was that whoever they were, they were quite… small. “The little one over there? Did you not hear me? I need-”
“I heard you plenty fine,” the guild master snorted, “and I told you who you’d need. No one else here will take something like that, so she’s the best you can do. So either talk with her or get the fuck out of my guild.”
Sterling huffed before he headed for that corner. This close he could hear the grating, shrill voice of this ‘Manyboots’, chattering away to apparently no one save the terrifying statue she was sitting next to, so clearly she was crazy.
“Excuse me, I’m here to-”
“HOLY FUCK, DO YOU MIND!?”
The chair spun around and Sterling was more than a little taken aback by the sight of a hideous goblin sitting there. She had a hood over her enormous head, disproportionate to the size of her body. Even compared to goblin kind in general, she was small, probably would be barely two feet tall while standing. Her massive red eyes glared at Sterling as she shook a dirty finger in his direction. “I’m in the middle of a conversation! You can’t just waltz up here and interrupt!” she said.
“I- um-” Sterling managed to recover from the shock and he straightened himself up. “I’m here to hire you for a job, but if you keep talking back to me like that-”
The goblin cackled before taking a long swig of her beer. Wiping the foam off her mouth, she leaned in, grinning from ear to impressively large ear. “Okay, you’re forgiven. Whatcha need? Robbery? Arson? Murder that looks like suicide, or just flat out murder?”
“W-well,” Sterling cleared his throat, “my father is the great Governor van Broom, but he will not recognize me as one of his heirs as my mother was one of his maids. She died of a broken heart, and I have nothing but a pitiful clock shop to my name. I have been robbed of my birthright, and I seek revenge upon the man that abandoned my mother and…” he trailed off as he realized Manyboots had tuned him out and was back to slurping from a mug that was over half the size of her torso. “Do you mind?!”
“Huh?” Manyboots looked up. “I’m sorry, I was waiting for you to get done with the boring backstory shit.”
Right. Now he was pissed. Sterling raised his hand to slap the smirk off this stupid little beast.
“Listen here, you little-”
In a blur of gray stone Sterling’s wrist was grabbed by… the statue.
That was not a statue.
It looked like a statue, but on second look Sterling could see it blink its glowing green eyes, how it glowered at Sterling as its claws dug into his arm.
Manyboots shrieked with laughter. “Your faaaace! Man, your faaaaaaace!” she said, wiping a tear away from her eye. “Oh man, that never gets old. Garl, let him go.”
Garl cocked his head to the side and Sterling felt cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck. Even if Garl wasn’t actually a statue, he had a clutch like one.
“Try hitting her again, and you’ll lose more than your birthright, bitch.”
The statue released Sterling and he jumped back, clutching his bruising arm to his chest and trying to say anything, only for meaningless stammering to babble from his lips.
“Right, let’s start from the beginning.” Odra slammed her mug down on the table and stood up on the chair. “I’m Odra Manyboots, and this is Garl the Gargoyle.” She leaned in uncomfortably close, Sterling trying not to gag on the smell of rotten meat on her breath. “Listen, we don’t care why you want us to do this. All we need to know is what needs to get done, when we need to get it done, and how much you’re going to pay us. Got it?”
Sterling cleared his throat. “I get it.” He sat down next to Odra and Garl, keeping an eye on the menacing gargoyle. “There’s a caravan coming into town next week from the west, bearing my father’s insignia. There will be guards, do what you have to in order to deal with them. I don’t care what you do with most of the belongings- burn them, keep them, sell them, but I only ask that you retrieve a necklace and give it to me. It’s silver with a large sapphire at the throat. I’ll pay you one hundred gold now, and another two hundred when the job’s completed.”
Odra twisted her face before turning to Garl. “Sound like a plan?” she asked.
Garl only grunted.
Odra turned back around and gave a thumbs up. “Got it. Now scram, Like I told you earlier, we were in the middle of a conversation, and you were fucking rude to interrupt.” She shooed Sterling away before turning back to her friend, who was back to looking like a nearly normal statue. “Where was I? Oh yeah, you were inside passed out and getting your face doodled on by a bunch of bards. Which you really shouldn’t have gotten so drunk, I’m eighty percent sure a few of them wanted to jump on your stone c-”
Right, time to go. Sterling threw the initial payment on the table and practically bolted out of the door. Odra waited until he was gone before she leaned in close to Garl.
“Sooooo… how much you want to bet that the necklace he’s talking about is worth way, way more than two hundred gold?”
Garl smirked. “Safe bet, since it’s for the governor,” he agreed.
“Goodie. I’ll work on the story about not being able to find it, you’ll back me up with your scary face.”
“And what is my scary face?”
“Your scary face is your face all the time.”
Garl rolled his eyes before grabbing on Odra’s ear and roughly pulling on it.
“OW! Ow, lemme go, I’m sorry! Ouch! You’re gonna make me spill my beer, lemme gooooo!”
Next Chapter
Author's Note: Hello! If you're reading this story and you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging it to share with others. Tips are also appreciated!
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phoenixofthestars · 21 hours
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I made a poll and no one answered for nearly two days straight so I’ve decided I don’t care what you think, you’re getting the lovechild of an undiagnosed autistic goblin and an otherkin fantasy.
I’m making a side blog for it, but I don’t know what the title of the series is yet. For right now, it’ll be @nezhaasel-archives (the blog’s active, but I can’t tag it for some reason, so I’ve reblogged this post with the blog)
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I need help.
For those who don't know, I have a WIP about fairy tales, both the original fairy tales and the post-Disney versions.
It's about a fictional world called Nemolia where fairy tales and children's stories tropes are just a part of day-to-day life.
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Princesses are elected officials and academics, Fairy Godmothers are princesses with an extra degree, Prince Charmings are members of the military, wishing upon stars is an official religion, and magic is studied as a science.
In my world there is a specific kingdom called Avamoor, that is meant to be the main setting.
The idea is that this kingdom was founded by what is essentially, a retelling of a fairy tale. The problem is, I have no idea of which tale to use.
So, I ask this question: Which Fairy Tale is iconic, universal, and foundational enough to be the founding story of a fairy tale kingdom?
I have some ideas of my own, but I want to hear other opinions.
Cinderella is universal and iconic, but I want to use her in the current era of this setting, so I can't use her as the starting point of Avamoor.
Snow White is another possibility because some of my main characters do have ties to dwarf-like beings. And because Snow White is the first Disney movie ever, it would be a nice little Easter egg. But I wonder if using Snow White as the founder of Avamoor is too Disney-like.
The Frog Prince is also another possibility, as a homage to Grimm's Fairy Tales. For those who don't know, editions of the Grimm's fairy tales always start with the Frog Prince. But I doubt if there's enough material to make an interesting retelling.
As I said I need help with possible tales.
It also helps, if the tale is about princesses, princes, and curses to tie in with the themes of the actual story.
@ariel-seagull-wings @princesssarisa @tamisdava2 @angelixgutz @amalthea9 @the-blue-fairie @adarkrainbow @theancientvaleofsoulmaking
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gwen-tolios · 7 months
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My second fantasy anthology is coming out next week!
You can snag a copy from Amazon today if you want. There are 22 stories in this collection, most are fantasy but there are a few other genres (I'm really fond of the SF horror one about humans adopting an alien species). Some of the stories you might have already seen around Tumblr (like Siren Screech) but jazzed up a bit, others are brand new!
Give her a few months, and you'll find her in library systems too.
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savethegrishaverse · 4 months
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Our next twitter party celebrates the #Fantasy genre, and discusses how our favorite Grishaverse fits into that genre. Let's talk soft magic systems, the Grisha and their small sciences, and what makes fantasy worlds exciting and interesting!
#SaveShadowAndBone and #SixOfCrowsSpinoff TWEETING PARTY 12/12 at 12PM and 8PM EST! At https://twitter.com/savethegrisha/status/1728974702562124078
Remember to:
Only use three hashtags.
Enjoy and be engaging with your tweets! Keep sharing!
Timezones under read more.
If you cannot attend, you can always schedule tweets ahead of time on desktop in order to help out still!
Our Linktree is here, to sign the petition, donate to the Kickstarter, or join the Discord!
1ST PARTY, ALL TIMEZONES:
Tuesday Dec 12: 9am PST 10am MST 11am CST 12pm EST 2pm -03 5pm GMT 6pm CET 8pm MSK 9pm +04 10:30pm IST Wednesday Dec 13: 1am CST 2am JST 4am AEST 6am NZST
2ND PARTY, ALL TIMEZONES: Tuesday Dec 12: 5pm PST 6pm MST 7pm CST 8pm EST 10pm -03 Wednesday Dec 13: 1am GMT 2am CET 4am MSK 5am +04 6:30am IST 9am CST 10am JST 12pm AEST 2pm NZST
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insomniac-dot-ink · 2 years
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A Tale of Four Plagues
Magical plagues are a lot like regular ones. In the past, they were thought to be one and the same: random acts of divinity or revenge or unseen evils. We only isolated the difference much later between magic and mortal things, mortal weakness and magical fickleness. Witches can’t catch colds, but they can get things like Red Slipper-- the illness that makes you dance until you collapse or worse. 
Red Slipper wasn’t something you could catch by breath or blood or all the tiny beasts we eventually witnessed under microscopes. Entire villages plugged their ears with wax when Red Slipper was passing through for anyone who hears the tune will succumb and start warbling the song themselves. And dance and dance while their loved ones watch on and the ground soaks red.
That was only the first Magical Plague. There have been four great enchanted plagues which have changed our roads and our cities and how much beeswax we sell at the marketplaces. My father started the last one. I ended it, not by being clever or strong or terribly brave, many illnesses are stopped by cleverer people than I, but the fourth plague was abated by any other way daughters relate to their fathers . . .
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onekonii · 2 years
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𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔫 [𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚]
This has been rewritten and edited, we're sorry if there are any misspellings or anything to ruin your reading.
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Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, toxic relationships, toxic love, the Duchess is not the reader. Mentions of intimate acts (sex*als)
MERMAID AU: based on the little mermaid.
Note:
The images I use are the property of their authors, but the edition runs by part mine. This is a new version since the previous one lacked consistency and I didn't like the result 😑 😒. Part 2
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The beautiful woman's disconsolate tears echoed on the desolate beach, tinged by the moonlight. Heartbroken and soul shattered, she wondered again and again what she had done wrong. No matter how much effort she put into attracting the attention of her husband, the man of her dreams, she seemed to find her bored and stoic. Sitting on the sand, she let out a sigh full of bitterness and pain, as the wind caressed her messy hair.
"My attempts were in vain.... Why, what else can I do to win his love? It seems I'm just a nuisance in his life..." whispered the woman to the wind, her voice broken and full of deep sadness.
At that moment, a supernatural-looking man appeared walking in the distance. His snow- and moon-white locks swayed gracefully in the sea breeze. His pale skin, smooth as alabaster, radiated a beauty that transcended earthly boundaries. Oblivious to the woman's presence, he waded into the ocean, letting out a captivating, melancholy melody. The strength of his voice seemed to release the accumulated stress.
The musical notes rose into the air, and the woman, irresistibly attracted by the mysterious and beautiful voice, raised her head to observe the enigmatic man. Their gazes met by chance, and an awkward silence took over the atmosphere. Both felt uneasy in the presence of the other, as if the universe conspired to bring them together at that time and place.
"Excuse me... I didn't mean to interrupt your moment of solitude," the woman said shyly, as she wiped away tears with the back of her hand. She felt pathetic and embarrassed in the presence of such a dazzling being.
"Don't worry. I didn't expect to find someone in this secluded place, normally no one comes here," replied the man with a playful smile, trying to hide his surprise at the woman's appearance.
The encounter did not go unnoticed, and little by little they began to engage in an awkward conversation full of curious questions and hidden longings.
"What brings you to this lonely place?" she asked first, seeking to break the ice that surrounded them, wanting to understand what brought that extraordinary being to a forgotten corner of the beach.
"I needed a break from my busy life. Sometimes I even long to get away from responsibilities and immerse myself in my thoughts," he replied with a kind but tired smile. He turned to her, curious to know her story. 
As they continued to converse, the barriers of the awkward situation slowly began to fade. The formerly unhappy and bitter woman found solace in the presence of the captivating-voiced albino. Meanwhile, he was fascinated by the spontaneity and passion she hid behind her careless appearance. A peculiar and special bond was beginning to weave between them.
"Have you ever felt trapped in a world that doesn't allow you to be yourself?" she asked, breaking the silence as she stared at him, her eyes reflecting longing and vulnerability.
He was transfixed for a moment, immersed in thought, trying to find the right words to answer that profound question. With a sincere smile, he decided to share his truth.
"Sometimes, life places us in circumstances that limit us, but it's up to us to find a way to free ourselves from those chains. Personally, I have found in music a way to escape and express myself," Gojo said, revealing a more intimate aspect of his being.
She smiled, laughing at her sincere and authentic expression. In that instant, they seemed to understand each other without the need for additional words.
The sound of the surf gently breaking against the shore became the backdrop of their encounter, as they both shared their deepest experiences and secrets. As they got deeper into their conversation, the awkward and tense moments gave way to a closer and more genuine connection.
Time seemed to stand still in that secluded corner of the beach, and as the moon bathed their encounter in a silvery halo and their gazes intertwined, charged with a silent understanding. The waves of the sea danced around them, as if the ocean itself was celebrating the meeting of two young souls on the abandoned beach.
As the night progressed, the chemistry between them became evident. They shared stories, dreams and fears, immersing themselves in an ever-deepening complicity. Fluid and emotion-filled dialogues revealed a connection that went beyond words, as if their hearts began to beat in unison.
However, dawn was breaking over the horizon, tinging the sky with shades of pink and gold. The magical moment was coming to an end, and both realized they had to separate.
"It was an unexpected and special encounter. Thank you for giving me this company in a moment of loneliness," the woman expressed with gratitude, while the sparkle in her eyes reflected a spark of hope that she had lost before amid broken and disconsolate sobs.
The white-haired man nodded softly, a mixture of melancholy and longing reflected in his eyes. "It has been an honor to share this time with you. Don't forget that there is always a light in the darkness. I hope you find your way to happiness."
With those meaningful words, they said goodbye on the seashore, each carrying with them the indelible memory of that fleeting but transformative encounter.
The woman looked back one last time as she walked away from the beach, carrying her emotions and longings with her.
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The woman returned to her gloomy home, tormented by the echoes of pleasure and the dull thunder of the betrayal her husband consummated with his lover. Keeping silent, as she had been taught, she went into her lonely room, where the man she loved had abandoned her.
However, a strange sensation lingered in her mind: the memory of the beautiful albino remained, like a flickering flame in the midst of the darkness. She had never seen someone with that snow-white mane and those enigmatic eyes, whose blue seemed to reflect an infinite sky. She swore that if she got close enough, her could catch a glimpse of dancing clouds in those celestial orbs, like the ones that float in a clear sky off a sunny beach. 
She lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling as her mind wandered through the thoughts that plagued her. Finally, exhaustion enveloped her and plunged her into a disturbed sleep.
The hours passed in a haze, and upon awakening, she found herself plunged into the gloom of her room. A faint glow filtered through the slits in the heavy curtains, indicating that a new day had begun. The memory of the encounter on the beach enveloped her like an evocative mist, and a sense of longing filled her chest.
With determination, she got out of bed and walked over to the mirror. She looked at her reflection, her eyes red-rimmed and tired, her hair disheveled. The woman reflected in front of her was a shadow of her former self, but something had changed. In the depths of her being, she had awakened a spark of courage and a determination to seek the happiness she longed for. However, her pessimistic and bitter expression threatened to overshadow that determination.
"I really am pathetic... ahh! This heart of mine is hopeless," the girl muttered in despair. She then decided to fix herself up, getting rid of her sleeping dress still on and trying to correct the smeared makeup on her face.
Sometimes she wondered about her role or why she was still attached to this toxic love.
***
The woman, armed with courage, emerged from her room ready to face the day to day as the socialite duchess she was meant to appear to be. Despite her longing for something more, she was resigned to her role as a decorative wife, a mere accessory to the duke whose only interest lay in his mistress. Her husband ignored her completely, confining her to a superficial and meaningless role.
She masterfully organized and attended the most important social events, where her presence was required to maintain the status and power of the family. However, deep inside, she desperately longed to escape from that gilded cage and find a glimmer of authenticity in the midst of falsehood.
In the midst of this empty existence, occasional encounters with the enigmatic albino became her secret refuge. Hidden from her husband and the prying eyes of high society, they would meet in secluded places, where they could relax and revel in the simplicity of nature.
Between emotionally charged whispers and intertwined glances, they explored the deepest corners of their souls. However, for her, the albino was simply a friend. After all, she was oblivious to the deep feelings she harbored in his heart. 
One day, as they walked together through the picturesque harbor, the woman could not hide her sadness and sighed as she gazed at the crimson-tinged horizon. Satoru, captivated and curious, took her hand and asked in a soft but determined voice:
"What troubles you so much as to ignore the beautiful sunrise? You have been distant and self-absorbed. I understand if you do not wish to share it with me."
The duchess was moved by his words and sketched a smile, trying to dispel the weary expression and release some of the burden she carried.
"You know, it's hard to break the chains that bind me to this life of appearances. But my heart still clings, even though I know my love for him is toxic. Sometimes I feel like a fool, waiting for something that will never come. Should I continue to cling to this illusion?" she replied, asking herself a question that only she could answer.
The whispers of the wind continued their walk, wrapped in a silence that evidenced the conflict they harbored in their hearts. The duchess knew that giving up her love for the duke would not be easy, for it was rooted deep within her. Meanwhile, Satoru felt his heart beating yearningly, struggling against the reality that she only saw him as a friend.
At the culmination of their encounter, they parted amidst the glow of dawn, both engulfed in a storm of conflicting emotions.
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Filled with silent regret, the duchess returned to the sumptuous duchy which, despite its grandeur, was nothing more than a gilded cage that imprisoned her. At the opulent dinner table, her presence went unnoticed, ignored by both the duke and the other diners. The air of indifference seemed to whisper to her that her existence was only relevant as a figurehead, devoid of voice and will.
The duke, without taking his eyes off his plate, cast a fleeting glance at the duchess and let out a brief sigh. "Carry on as usual," he murmured coolly. It was evident that his interest had completely vanished.
Night fell like a dark cloak over the duchy and the duchess found herself summoned to the duke's bedchamber. Intimate acts, charged with an empty tension, took place without passion or emotional connection. Fulfilling his frozen duties, the duke left her once his needs were met, without further words or gestures of tenderness. The emptiness in the bedroom intertwined with the emptiness in the duchess' soul, leaving her trapped in an abyss of loneliness and hopelessness.
The days passed with parsimony, as the duchess clung to the fragile hope of brief encounters with the albino. In the secret corners of hidden gardens and winding paths, their gazes met and their conversations were a glimmer of authenticity amidst the deception. But each encounter was fleeting, like a breath of fresh air in a stifling world. Unfulfilled longings and unexpressed feelings hung in the air, as if both were caught in a dangerous game of attraction and denial.
The duchess longed to find solace in the albino's arms, but clung to the illusion that her love for the duke could be transformed, that she would one day be reciprocated and truly loved. However, the relentless reality and emotional wounds were tangling in her heart, slowly tearing it apart.
As the days went by, the encounters with the albino became more scarce and fragmented. Her husband became suspicious of her and her actions, so he ordered her not to let her leave the dukedom. 
Relatively, during their encounters a furtive brush of hands, a glance full of complicity, were all they could afford. Mutual attraction was still palpable in the air, but the distance imposed by circumstances was cruel and implacable.
In the darkness of the night, as the duchess lay alone in her bed, tears slid silently down her cheeks. She knew that the love she so longed for with the duke would never be hers, and that the refuge she found in the brief encounters with the albino was also short-lived. The pain of loneliness was becoming less bearable and not knowing exactly how to feel.
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The tension in the duchy reached its peak in a heated argument between the duchess and the duke. Anger-filled words flew around the room, like sharp daggers seeking to wound. Unable to control his fury, the duke lost control and violently struck the duchess, leaving a trail of pain and tears on her face.
"You are nothing, just a fucking nuisance that I can use and discard as I please! Forget that I could ever love you," the duke vociferated with contempt, revealing the true nature of their relationship. It was crystal clear that he used her solely for her power and influence coming from his father the right hand of the emperor, considering her nothing more than a disposable object.
"What did I expect from you, hahaha I feel pathetic."
Whispered the duchess still lying on the floor from the blow. Heartbroken and body aching, she retreated from the room in silence, charged with tumultuous emotions. Between the darkness of the night and the waves of the beach, she found refuge in the arms of the albino, who received her with compassion and tenderness.
Tears ran freely down the duchess' cheeks as she recounted to him the duke's cruel treatment, the hurtful words and the physical pain she had suffered. Disappointment and despair enveloped her like a dark cloak, and she sought solace in the albino's comforting embrace.
"I'm sorry," she said in a trembling voice. "I wanted to believe that things would change.... But I've been deceived..." She cried silently, clinging to him desperately, like a child clinging to its mother for protection. He stroked her hair and hugged her tightly.
"Please don't cry," he whispered, trying to calm her. "It's okay." He reassured but she only turned to look at him, tears staining her makeup.
"But it isn't! I thought my heart was strong enough, but it crumbled in front of him."
Satoru, unable to contain his feelings any longer, let himself be overpowered by passion and longing. Without warning, he leaned toward her and kissed her, leaving the duchess surprised and stunned by the unexpected act. At that moment, the world seemed to stop, and the kiss carried with it the promise of an authentic and liberating love.
The duchess, overwhelmed by the mixture of emotions and confusion, slowly separated from Satoru. She didn't know what to say and honestly her mind was a mess, so she didn't care and let him continue. 
Their lips collided, skin to skin. Satoru sucked the woman's soft skin, she moaned and felt the albino's hands on her breasts. He began to undress.
"Don't stop," she said, moving closer to him.
He caressed her body with his hands and tongue. Sus dedos tocaron su pecho, luego se deslizaron hasta su abdomen. He pulled her and pushed her against the fresh sand of the beach.
Satoru was a little shy at first, not wanting to ruin their relationship just because of one night of passion, but when he felt the Duchess's naked body pressed against his, he became aroused. His cock was hardening and ready for action.
Without waiting any longer, he wrapped his mouth around her neck, kissing and licking her, then slowly slid down her naked body. 
"Fuck! I've wanted you for these months, I've dreamed of you, and now you're all mine.... Hmmmm" The white-haired man moaned between kisses, his hardened cock ready to thrust into the girl's panties.
The duchess, overcome with lust, greedily took the white-haired man's cock into her mouth. The sensation of pleasure shot through her as she licked and sucked him. She wrapped her arms around his body and hugged him tightly, savoring the sensation of being intimate with a man again after so many years.
She closed her eyes as she sucked him deeply. The taste of him made her dizzy and aroused her. Her mouth filled with saliva and she moaned.
Satoru released her juices, letting his semen leak out inside the woman's vagina. Then, hungry and somewhat rough, he carried her in his arms, wrapping his hips around her legs and thrusting his cock between her buttocks. "Ahhh fuck! how tight you are, I love you so much" His whispers filled with obsessive lust they were not heard by her.
The duchess cried out from the pain of his thrusts, but she also felt the pleasure that accompanied them. She felt the albino's strong hands on her body, caressing her and massaging her spongy breasts. His kisses reached her ears, arousing her even more.
"I want you inside me," She moaned desperately, wanting to forget about anything and just let herself be carried away by him and his cock. "I need you inside me." 
He didn't answer her, but pushed harder, taking her roughly and with a ravenous hunger in his blue eyes.
Then she, lost in her lust, didn't notice the looming scales or merman features that he inadvertently let out of his body, as he was just as, if not more, lost in her pleasures. 
"I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum..." he moaned.
The duchess felt the intense pleasure that accompanied her orgasm, and was surprised at how good it felt to be touched like that. The white-haired man pulled away from the duchess and kissed her deeply.
"You've done well... I love you so much," he whispered. However, the duchess only looked at the ground with conflict and when she least expected it, she slipped away, while satoru slept next to her, leaving him alone. Many emotions crossed her face, yet she was crying. She felt confused and somewhat upset, she did not see the beautiful man that way and yet, deep inside, she loved him very much.
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It was early in the morning, and the duchess was walking through the gardens of her secluded ducal mansion, feeling tired and weak. She had spent the night lamenting and feeling even more confused. In her mind, she went over the events of the previous night and the sensations she had experienced were repeated over and over again. She couldn't sleep and she knew it was because of the albino, who had awakened something in her.
She felt her heart beating faster and began to feel a sensation in her stomach, as if it were full of butterflies. But she didn't want to get her hopes up, she feared that she would fall back into the clutches of love, at this point she would only stay in the duchy as her parents would not hesitate to punish her if she divorced.
It was early morning, and the duchess was walking through the gardens of her secluded mansion in the duchy, feeling tired and weak. She had been up all night, tormented by the confusion and mixed emotions that had arisen. The events of the previous night replayed over and over in her mind, and though she felt a strange attraction to the albino, she was also filled with fear and doubt.
Her heart was beating faster and the butterflies in her stomach seemed to flutter endlessly. But she refused to allow hope to grow, afraid to fall back into the clutches of love and face the devastating consequences it could bring. Her social position and the fear of her parents' reprisals if she divorced kept her captive in the duchy, a gilded prison from which she could not easily escape.
The duchess felt cowardly and ashamed of her actions the night before. After that intimate and passionate encounter with Satoru, she had felt a surge of shame wash over her. The image of his male hands on her body was still etched in her mind, evoking a mixture of desire and guilt. She didn't feel ready to face Satoru after standing him up without explanation, unable to deal with the flood of emotions and fears that inundated her.
As she continued her solitary stroll through the gardens, the duchess found herself in a sea of tumultuous thoughts. She longed to find answers, clarity and the strength to make life-changing decisions, but it all seemed so confusing and complicated. She paused under the shade of an ancient oak tree, and tears began to well up in her eyes. She wept silently, letting the tears wash her face as the sun began to shine on the horizon.
In that moment of vulnerability, the duchess recalled the brief encounters with Satoru in previous days. Although her heart pounded when she was near him, there was also a deep fear that held her back. She didn't know what to do, how to cope with all these overwhelming emotions that threatened to overflow.
The duchess wiped away her tears and took a deep breath, determined to face reality and clarify her feelings. However, fear continued to haunt her, afraid of getting hurt once again. Deep in her heart, she knew that postponing this conversation would only prolong her emotional torment.
Despite her initial determination, the duchess decided to wait for a more propitious opportunity to broach the subject with Satoru. She believed that an evening would be the perfect time, when the mansion would be quiet and the shadows would offer a degree of privacy. She planned every detail in her mind, imagining how she would express her feelings and how she would listen to his.
However, fate had other plans in mind. In the middle of the night, as the duchess prepared to sneak out of her room, the duke discovered her in the hallway. His face was shadowed with anger and mockery, as if he were enjoying a macabre spectacle.
"Where do you think you are going, my dear duchess, to meet your mistress, perchance? I'm not surprised, you ungrateful whore," the duke pronounced with contempt and sarcasm.
The duke's words struck the duchess like sharp blades. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time they were not only tears of sadness, but also of indignation. The cruelty with which he treated her reminded the duchess how callous and selfish her husband was.
The duchess tried to respond, to defend herself and explain her feelings, but the duke interrupted her with a mocking laugh and threatened her with even harsher consequences.
"I think it's about time you learned a lesson, my dear Duchess. If you want to play with fire, you will suffer the burns. From now on, I will lock you in the attic, where you can reflect on your mistakes and appreciate the privilege of being my wife."
The duchess's heart sank in her chest as she listened to her husband's words. She was dragged by the servants to the dark and gloomy attic, where she was locked in, surrounded by shadows and silence. Sadness and frustration enveloped her as she struggled to find a way out of her prison.
For the only time she got the duke's attention and when she finally believed she would be able to confess her deep feelings for the albino, she was once again ruined by the man who claimed to be her husband on paper and not in actions.
However, in the midst of the darkness, the duchess found a glimmer of hope even if she did not know it. In her womb, a life was growing, oblivious to the strife and strife that plagued her world.
Meanwhile, Gojo continued to visit the beach every day, putting aside his responsibilities as monarch of the oceans. However, his heart was saddened to see that the duchess did not come to meet him. Although he had never revealed his true identity to her, he longed to do so, but she had left that night after they had given themselves to each other.
As the days passed without news of the duchess, pessimistic thoughts began to consume Gojo. He wondered if she had regretted everything they had shared, if the kiss and tender caresses they had exchanged had been in vain. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, but he knew there was nothing he could do to change the situation. With his heart full of pain, he decided to return to Atlantis, his kingdom, leaving behind the beach that had witnessed their frustrated love.
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Days later, the duke finally released the duchess from her confinement, warning her not to try anything beyond his control. She nodded submissively, aware that her dream of divorce and freedom from that toxic relationship was fading because of the political and business implications it would entail. Meanwhile, the duchess was beginning to suspect that she was pregnant, but did not mention it to the duke.
In an oversight by the duke, when he left to meet his mistress, the duchess seized the opportunity and escaped. She carried with her the necklace that Satoru had given her, hoping that he would respond when she wanted to see him. However, to her despair, there was no response. Plunged in pain and confusion, the duchess found herself in the middle of the beach, crying and shouting her anguish to the wind.
In that instant, the duchess understood that she was alone and that she must face her uncertain future on her own. Heartbroken and with the weight of her pregnancy on her shoulders, she clung to the only certainty she had: the life growing inside her. Determined to protect her child and find her own path, the duchess set out to face the challenges ahead, not knowing if she would ever again cross paths with those who had marked her life so profoundly.
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A year had passed since that stormy encounter on the beach. The duchess lived in a constant state of discomfort and pain, estranged from Satoru. The two had grown apart due to a misunderstanding that had fueled bitterness in their hearts.
The duchess, determined to protect her daughter from the duke's toxic influence, raised her in secret, keeping her hidden in the duchy's secluded mansion. The little girl, barely a year old, was her greatest treasure and the reason she had found the strength to carry on.
Meanwhile, the duke had formalized his relationship with his mistress by making her his official wife. The duchess, relegated to being the second wife, suffered in silence, feeling her position and power slowly fading away.
The duchess had made the decision to raise her daughter alone, without depending on the duke or Satoru. Despite the pain and disappointment that filled her heart, she found the strength to give all the love and care to her little girl. She knew that her daughter deserved a better future, far from the power games and toxic relationships that had marked her own life.
As the baby girl grew, the duchess found joy in every smile and every accomplishment. Motherhood had become her refuge, a source of hope and unconditional love.
Time marched on and the duchess clung to the hope that someday, both she and Satoru would be able to leave the pain and mistrust behind although at this point that was a simple wish that faded over the years. For the moment, however, their anger and suffering kept them apart, with no possibility of reconciliation.
The Duchess, full of determination and courage, faced each day with her head held high, ready to protect her daughter and forge a new destiny for both of them. Although the shadow of the duke and his lover was still there, she refused to be swept away by it. She knew that she had found strength in herself and in the unconditional love that her little daughter gave her. Together, they would face any challenge that life threw at them.
Well, although misunderstandings have separated them, it will not change the desire that both feel for each other...
There's no beauty without ends No creation with no mends A new silent wish, will cast aside our pain Distancing side by side in vain
Reflecting no more anguish by your side A contradiction worthy to abide Remnants of us ebb and flow A glimpse of love just waiting
Oh, a neverending hope to mend it all Flow, let our time remain and wait for voids to fall
Ascending through the motions It would seem as though they'd last Admitting to our questions And doubts thrown at the past
There's no rightness in pretend Finding comfort once again Wish the days would pass, just yearning for our fate Yet there is solace to be found within dismay
Disowning feelings of grief through these tides A complicated love I'd dare not hide Turbulences come and go But won't reject me whole
Oh, a bittersweet vision through me that befalls Know that despite our voids I swear to hold it all
While sinking through this ocean I would wonder why you'd ask Accepting our affection I just knew that it would last
I want to be right where you are I want to be right where you are I want to be right where you are I want to be right where you are
Touch, the heavens and the skies alight (I want to be right where you are) Breathe, the entire universe shines bright (I want to be right where you are)
I want to be right where you are I want to be right where you are...
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mdpthatsme · 6 months
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eBook pre-orders for Scarlet Paths are live!
Amazon / Barnes and Noble
Blue Fire
Amazon (ebook & paperback) / Barnes and Noble (ebook only)
Note: Amazon will have a paperback, but they do not pre-order them. I will not be able to have paperback for B&N per their limited ISBN rules.
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