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Life's funeral is death's wedding.
Welcome sinners. Welcome saints.
⋅ ━━━━━━━━━━ ⋅ 𖠁 ⋅ ━━━━━━━━━━ ⋅
What may I interest you in? Perhaps some boutiques of rare red or white? Some exquisite fare one can't find to roll of their tonque? Or perhaps something not quite on the menu ?
Welcome sinners. Welcome saints.
⋅ ━━━━━━━━━━ ⋅ 𖠁 ⋅ ━━━━━━━━━━ ⋅
What may I interest you in? Perhaps some boutiques of rare red or white? Some exquisite fare one can't find to roll of their tonque? Or perhaps something not quite on the menu ?
-
Hello, potential fellow writing partners!
I'm Styx, but you can call me...Styx
An 24 year old writer and enthusiast of wondrous stories , albeit big favourite being those of romance and fantasy be it dark or fluffy and sweet...modern , medieval or some other time stamp era save for sci-fi, little experience in those.
GMT+2 timezone.
I write in third person only. Primarily and originally I play only female characters, but can play both male and female as side cast. Pairing wise however I am both delighted for an F x M and F x F.
I don't care whatever gender you are...you can be an woman playing an woman, man playing an man, man playing an woman, woman playing an man, an bush playing a tree or a tree playing a bush as long as you communicate and are respectful. Kindness doesn't cost you an thing.
No real life, model or celebs or anything alike for face claim.
My writing usually ranges from 300-1000+ words. Sometimes is consistent sometimes less so. Something one might understand how that can go. -
Her boots marked slowly deliberate steps , treating the unfamiliar territory albeit quiet and empty as an graveyard as she would be on the front lines of an battlefield. For all she knew one single wrong missteps could lead to danger and she did not want to either intrude anymore then she would need to or have already done as far.
Her eyes quick to dart at the chandeliers above that ignited seemingly on it's own, candles that flared to life , the sudden warmth and life that brought into the crypt that just moments ago was devoid to any warmth or touch of the outside world. But strangely enough, there was no sight of it anyone nor even sound expect that of her own heartbeat. So Augustus could have only assumed the place, perhaps entire worked under magic or will least of it's master. Eerily enough thinking of it as an whole living thing then mere residence. Even the doors behind her that she opened ajar second ago was not budging to her advances.
"Is anybody here?" She began, her voice echoing through the crypt-stilled air. Her tone rigid and formal. "I'm General Augustus Catherine of the Opelian Empire, Knight commander of the broken blade of the Nation and daughter of Count Adonhar." She introduced herself albeit her eyes found nobody before her to do so. She waited. Seconds. Minute.... And then some more but still there was nothing.
Her eyes traced upon the armor stands, helms, cuirasses and shields and spears. Some were old. Older perhaps then the very foundation of her homeland, the Opelian Empire. The odd part was the craftsmanship being one of humans and then some of likes of elves, dwarfs, ogres, demi-humans and more. And what was odd more was the fact neither it or the painting looked as if they'd fell to negligence and passage of time. No speck of dust, no blemishes, no cobwebs clinging despite the stillness of the place reminiscent that of an graveyard.
She forced herself to continue, walking from the devoid hall to whatever best resembled path that would lead her to come across someone, anybody. Her hand hovered close to the hilt by her side, she didn't want to use it but she also didn't know what she would find.
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She walked for a while, finding more empty rooms and halls, until she ascended upon the staircase—coming before an door, colossal, carved, slightly ajar. Light poured from within, pooling on the cold floor like spilled gold. Something thrummed behind it. A presence. And an scent of something metallic that was all too familiar to the female general who could almost taste it.
She pushed the door open with a caution. Allowing the chamber behind to swallow her as she entered. For an moment Augustus stated wide-eyed with affront. It was vast—far larger than the palace’s exterior suggested—its ceiling lost somewhere in an expanse of shadowed architecture that was beyond human work.
There, raised on a dais of polished gold-veined stone, was a throne.
And upon it… sat a man.
No... Not an man... At least not in sense as Augustus would understand it. Not human would be more correct.
At first her mind caught up the state of the man, it was as if it was an fresh sculpture placed upon display, the posture regal and unmoving. Then her eyes adjusted. Seeing that the figure albeit noticed barely was in fact that of living flesh and bone. Breathing... Bleeding.
Whatever that thing was, she had little doubt it was the master of this castle, even less that it was beyond many manner if creature that came to mind. She swallowed back, taking an cautionary step towards the figure. Her gaze flickering downward taking in the circle of salt around him... And despite it thin line and blood it entrapped it didn't soak away, didn't crumble nor soak in the crimson hue of the ichor. The lifted boot that entered the circle came to kick line formed around the throne. Scattering the white grains, soaking in the footing of her boots in the ichor as Augustus crossed up the line of no return.
As Augustus entered , she felt as though a smothering blanket she didn't know was suddenly pulled from her skull and she staggered , an hand raised to her ear as cacophonous flood of sensations assaulted her.
The handle was long and silver, it's surface patterned with words of language she quite didn't understand but came to witness in the head church of the empire's capital. Her fingers slipped around the handle , feeling the tremor run through her veins over the body as bare skin came to contact....it resisted at first. But. Slowly, deliberately, with ache she pulled the blade buried deep inside the man entombed by it .What a barbaric and pitiful bunch, so self absorbed, arrogant, gluttonous, lustful all eager to have their thrill from the main stage. Wickedness and immorality ran feverishly , untamed. While vampires in secret and not so openly indulged in similarities, such things would not be seen in the court in her realm. If they valued anything was class, sophistication, something that would seperate them from beast like them.
Bit ironic seeing how behind the backs they were no better either and treated those of lower ranking with same attitude.
Luna had an amused glint in her eye, but she were understanding all the same what the ravenous crowd was excepting, Luna's attention was directed downward, not giving the satisfaction of sparing a glance to the king. The approaching steps already giving her enough information about on his approach, deeming that the so called 'fun' for the demons was to start.
There was no even slightest flince from her side, no revolt in to dislodge herself away from his prying hands, no attempts to strike in retaliation. The clear impassive gaze showing no debut, indifferent -even if deep inside dread had already began to uproot itself the moment she arrived-. She knew that it would only serve to fill on their conceitedness and ego, wishing to see struggle of an vampire that was pushed against the wall. Silently, she expected countless possibilities what would happen. But nothing did, her head internally was tilting at the rage of the king that was being disclaimed.In one of the peaceful towns named Alarchia, on one of the early afternoons two young girls sat at the back garden of an annex , belonging to be brothel house that they gotten by day by day ever since their arrival at it. They had both came by such life due to hardship of life and for better chance of life. Although one for her family and one taken in from slave traders by the other. Coming to grow fond of one another and even some other courtesans they shared the place with.
Tying the ends of Marianne's brunnete hair with a blue ribbon , Aelita's hand came down upon her shoulder and said. "Your hair is all done." Marianne turned excited, raising her hand as she touched her braided hair. "It's all pretty! Now we have a matching style! Well save for the color of your ribbon." She said excitedly, looking over to Aelita's own braided hair cascading like water fall just slightly down her own shoulder like shimmering cascade of silk.
Aelita smiled shaking her head as the young girl who has became like an third younger sister of hers during the time here hasn't even taken a look at the mirror or even the glass in the window to make sure it was well done, instead taking her for the word and looking all like a happy puppy.
"Turn around so I can place the flowers." Picking the tiny purple flower from the banquet she had picked up to set in her room, she plucked from the garden, Aelita pushed one of them on the side of Marianne's hair. The younger girl picked the rest of the flowers and placed them into her elder sister's hair.
"I already have the flowers, Mary." ; "Not enough!" The young girl used her small hands to place the flowers with utmost concentration so they wouldn't come off during the slightest move or caress of the wind.
"Aelita! Marianne! Go see the Madam, she is expecting you both in her office." Came the voice of one of their own , from outside on their right, an older mistress that has worked at changing the rooms of their main building. The brunnete jumped on her feet quickly while Aelita took no rush in her action from taking off along with her to see the manager of the house. She wondered what the old hag wanted this time, who's pockets will she be emptying now.
Oho. Must been some quite opulent customer based off from how the room was already full. The three Dames of heavenly constellation. Marriage and Arya were both in the room. With Madame "Ah you're here Aelita, come on quickly let's not leave the man waiting." the old hag motioned towards her to come set up next between her two sisters, Arya looked as intrigued as ever whenever an new wealthy customer stopped by or one more handsome and well defined. After all, she has been someone of the three who actually enjoyed the work she had. Unlike many courtesans, Arya is a woman who sells her body not just for money, but also for pleasure. As Aelita put it, Arya is a sex demon who will go after not just customers and manservants, but also other courtesans and apprentices when she feels too pent up. And of course she and poor Marianne were some of her favorite victims to sate her hunger with. With her beauty, pristine and the dark side of it that was hidden with the hunger that arouse at night it was no wonder she got title as the moon of the three.
Marriane unlike her however was someone more innocent, pure as the driven snow. Quiet and blooming just like the very earth they walk upon. She wanted nothing more then to keep her safe from any who would do her harm.
And alas there was she. She didn't know how or why she came to be where she was in the position, but from what the other two and even others told her, she overheard, she apparently was the sun, the star of the three. Lighting up the world with the radiance, warmth that was like that of motherly embrace, sweeping of the feet and with a pull that attracted any to her side. Preposterous.
With an corrective soft touch of her hand upon Marianne's back, the girl twitched realizing she was to straighten up her posture, thankful for Aelita to always correct or remind her of whenever anxiety began washing over her. "Here they are. One of my most best and desired. Shall we now let you have your pick?" The old Madame stated, her smile crooked as she feigned best offer and enhance truly their experience.
Eliciting a stammered whine from the hidden depths of her voice, Luna found his lips gentle, demanding but desperate, his touch burning through her drenched skin. Luna felt her body betraying her once more, reacting to the sudden intimacy in a way she had never felt before.
The room was filled with the sound of her muffled breaths and the rustling of the bed sheets as Luna's hands twisted and turned , tearing through it undesirably but unable to help it. The air grew thick with tension, the heat between them palpable. The cooling tingle his saliva left upon her bosom inflamed whence she found the heat of his mouth being pulled away.
She’s pouring heat off of her skin. She’s flushed and supple and oh, how easily he could ravish her endlessly. Her eyes are half-closed in the soreness of her intolerable pleasure, her lips parted to breath but all that comes are raring elongated moans. "Wa-wait." Filled with urgency, there is arousal and fear, and another strange something she doesn’t know in her tone. Her body listens, surrenders to his hold, and the breath is stolen from her lungs when she opens her teary eyes and stares into his unwavering form.
She whines, her legs tightening, tensing in attempt to wiggle away from this uprooted hold, knowing well what it meant. But the puncturing hold he had of her only mingling pleasure with pain, causing up trinkle of blue blood staining her skin and his claws that dwelled deeper into her luscious bottom. Her walls clenched tighter around him as her hips lifted into a grind, her eyelids slamming shut once more as she tilted her head, giving out better access to her skin.
The realization that she won’t be able to stop any of this lands deep inside her. Her back arched and she groused through her moans, legs twitching and her crevices spasming. "Fuck- Cayn- no, no- fuck!" She moaned pathetically. The bed rattled from her movement.
Luna's body stiffened up, the explosion of warmth inside her triggering her own shameful orgasm. She finds her legs spread without a single thought or command from her, every nerve inside her hotly alive and telling her what to do whether she wants it or not. She looks down in a haze, not quite computing her own actions, until she does with a start and a jump in place. It’s too late for her though, an entirely new sensation was wafting over her; the feel of his cum beginning to stuff every crevice that his cock wasn't currently taking up. Her nails dig into the sheet below her as she squirmed.
"...Did you have to do it inside?" Luna hissed whence her flailing chest dwindled to regular paced breath, leaving only stiffing soreness and trembles of her body that wouldn't most likely stop for some time, as she attempted to lift herself away from him, exhaling an groan when she saw his cum slowly breach and drip out of her. Propelling her hands underneath. Finding however no strength in them either to pull away.
She propped herself up on one arm and looked at the young mistress, Aless' bicep dancing ever so slightly as it held up her head. The combination of her long, strong arms and her swelling bicep made many before her new young mistress quite aroused. And she all too noticed her eyes surveying her. Taking delight in it. Alessandra was a vision of goddess -- firm, smooth muscularity combined with feminine curves and allure. And now she was like a huntress, admiring her trembling little prey.
She smiled and asked, "Not thinking of sleeping off the night already are we?" Alessandra chuckled noticing the slight tremor of her lover's body as her fingers stirred over her clit that didn't have chance to linger in relief "Look at you my little morsel, such an eager little thing you are…" her voice was a mere whisper between shared kisses, The vibrator turns off and is placed on the nightstand beside them. "That's one," Alessandra says proudly, curling the single first digit that invaded Diana's garden. There was only one real single task that Alessandra held , and that was to fry her mind. "That's a two.~ how are we feeling?" She twists her finger adding another , her thumb rubbing Diana's clit as Alessandra's hum ticks against her cheest, teeth scraping against an bud and then rolling it with her tongue while her finger copies the movements.
"Be a good little morsel and come for mommy again," she says, sharply sucking one last time on her nipple with a wet pop. Her thrusts are somehow getting faster , she needed her little bunny to break down again more then she needed food and water , more then the money she would be paying her. Whatever it was, it was making Alessandra stupid. Simple. Overcome with the primal need to touch, to take. And to claim. -
Pairing: Head Donna of an notorious mafia family x unsuspecting civilian.
Getting so drunk one forgets what has happened night before is an age old human tradition, for better and for worse.
And what could be worse then an wrong night spent in blissful ignorance? Well a night spent with a notorious and powerful Donna of a most dangerous family of the country who rules the city with her brother. Of course for her it wasn't nothing more then an night with an nobody and an pleasing night to ease the stress. Not really thinking of ever seeing each other whence she is gone the next morning. Yet... Whence an car pulls suddenly during an day and abducts YC by force he finds himself suddenly dragged like a doll before the Don, MC's brother he finds that the night of their ignorance resulted in her pregnancy.
And YC is offered three choices. One is to pack his stuff and leave to another county. Second, to accept the congratulations by meeting what is on the other side of the barrel of his gun. Finally. Third. Marry MC and be welcomed into his family.
Being the keeper of an Light House is work not for all to stomach, yet those who enjoy the tranquility, the sound of waves, the smell of the ocean or simply seek to remove oneself from the world, it is perhaps an ideal getaway. YC is someone who for whatever reason moved and took his place at home within a lighthouse upon a far distant coastline of a small town once a booming harbour.
It's find of gold, relics and remnants of an ancient civilization believed to have sunked only few miles away dragging many historians, myths seekers and those seeking to make fortune.
Yet over the years whence the remnants of an mysterious civilization that vanished under the sea stop yielding it's riches and it's history would remains uncovered, the place became an lapsed legacy. That is at least until one day an body of an woman was washed ashore from last night's awful storm. YC being one who happens to stumble upon MC on the shore near the lighthouse is quick to save the life of the researcher and oceanographer as she would end up introducing herself once recovering.
Being far distant from the town MC is allowed recovery and to await for the companions of the expedition that would be sent to pick her up and continue with their task of an possible greatest discovery under the forgotten remnants of human society. Yet , the nights ever since her arrival have slowly begun to change. What true motives and goals does she have? And did she really get washed off from her first expedition ship from a mere storm upon the sea? And what is down buried that she so desperately wants to return to?
Pairing: Second son of billionaire , playboy x tough, straight-laced woman bodyguard—ex special force officer.
"Fuck the rich!"
"I'm rich! So fuck me —and only me!"
YC is an rich and privileged second son of a billionaire tycoon who's overconfidence and aloof nature go the eyes of the public often make him main topic either in talks or in latest news. YC is constantly splashed across headlines for his extravagant lifestyle, rumored affairs, and sharp tongue. He lives loudly, laughs easily, and appears utterly unconcerned with reputation. He plays his role perfectly. Until someone tries to kill him that is.
After a targeted attack during a public event and an incident, YC is forced to accept round-the-clock protection. His father assigns him a new personal bodyguard: YC’s worst possible match. The very same savior who ended saving his ass in the incident.
She is an ex–special forces officer, discharged after a classified operation went wrong and has been struggling to find an proper job, taking anything she could find, so when opportunity presents itself to work in something she revels in and enjoys, saving and protecting life's she eagerly accepts. Even if she has an initial dislike to YC and more specifically the rich.
Pairing: Bodyguard x President/billionaire's daughter. (Can be M x F or F x F)
There is but three rules to follow, to keep in mind and never to break.
Protect her. Obey her mother. Never fall for her.
Quite simple really...that is all there is to it. It was supposed to be another mission to YC, just a spoiled heiress hidden behind privilege and secrets.
Yet it proved quite difficult when said daughter of the employer is an unpredictable cocktail of bubbly over energetic personality who brews many scandals.
Pairing: Crown prince/King x Witch consort.
Not all witch trials have been led with unfounded fear. In a land where magic comes to those who are brave enough to sacrifice for it, witches and warlocks stalk the land. Some are benign to the wider folk, the others care little whether a life, or an entire village-worth of the same, perishes for but a spark of more power. By the decree of the high liege, the hunt was called to free the land of their presence. The success has been varying, but the outcome is always the same - a great pyre upon which they will burn. Such fate awaits one of them, who was either unfortunate to be caught. She was bound to the pillar and her judge, jury and executioners, along with all of the peasant folk, are around her, waiting for the final verdict and the toss of the torch. Her words carry as much of the weight in the judge's ears, as a thimble of water in the midst of the raging inferno.
However, before the terrible gavel falls and declares her a witch, a young man with his retinue, all atop their horses, arrives at this open court. The crowd bows before the young, newly crowned ruler of the land and he demands that the woman is released. All are silent, except the judge, who protests and claims that the evidences against her are irrefutable. The young man shouts the order once more, stating that he is the law of this land and the woman is no witch. The woman's binding is cut and he takes her with him, along with the reasons for his decision.
The young man is not a fool. He knows that the woman is, indeed, a witch. His court is treacherous and hungry for the power that he, alone, possesses. What he needs is allies with power to fulfill his ambition and keep the perfidious backstabbers away. As for her, she needs a shield that will protect her from the angry mob, for as long as she is in his grace, her life is secure. Both have reason to keep the other close. And at times , especially nights they can be quite loud.
What new hobbies or fanatic ideals does one chase whence they already experienced all the world has to offer? From good and bad? From normal to abnormal and unnatural to human mind....when the world is left dull and blank? Where else can one go? Why look no furthermore then the Carnival Esurio, an Carnival that exists for many in name only. An myth that pride themselves to satiate hunger of all their guest.
Their beloved experts and personnel are all eager to scratch the itch you never realized you had. From people who can do the unnatural, risk their life gladly for thine entertainment and make sure that you're stay is most memorable experience.
...Still the performance of all have been nothing but lackluster despite the empty promises... Not single act that delighted their most esteemed guest no matter how grandiose or stomach turning it be.. At very least until an certain performer took up the stage.
F X F only for this one
Pairing: Sorceress/Oracle x fugitive woman on the run.
The great sorceress and oracle of the white sands lives in a nearly secluded temple and shrine. Save for when people and nobles come in need to have their future read or in seek help of her powers and talents— she lives isolated from others…she prefers it that way. Treated poorly by many due to her unnatural talent she is slower to trust. Despite that, she uses her powers and connection to the world unknown to mortals to help them. Both as warner of fater, guardian and healer.
People know of her because of this. So it did not surprise her to find a woman needing help on her doorstep one day. The woman had clearly been beaten and fugitive. She tended the poor woman and then helped her be secreted away. Unfortunately, there is an bounty on YC's head though she does not yet know it. It seems the Oracle helped the "wrong" person. The young woman she'd helped had been a fling to a very powerful man and he was not happy to find out what had happened.
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