Fantasy の小説・ストーリー

Nothing will go wrong after this fake session. Unfortunately, she didn’t know that her spontaneous action would be leading her into another disaster afterwards.

It's all a fantasy. Fable has been my escape. An unhealthy one. A safe pretend world where I could bury myself. Just like how Zee cried after she finished the final Harry Potter book, or how Jamie bases so much of her worth on the fictional version of herself that lives across a thousand Instagram pics, in the comments and likes of a thousand strangers. Just carefully constructed lies to comfort and lull. Dreams.

the witch nods, "but this war is a show of wills. I want to show you all I can, make you all fall. Wolves, dragons, vampires, faes." "Faes are a peaceful kind. They never hold arms." "That's where you are wrong," the witch challenges, "The faes hold unknown magic. That alone should be alarming." "Why?" "I'm searching for a power that is far greater." "The ancient power of the wolves is not yours." "It's not yours either." She rises. The witch whispers and slowly makes her way to me. My body shifts from her dark energy. I'm on my knees before she grabs the sides of my temples. My eyes roll back before a gush of wind swirls in my vision. I gasp for air before I'm sucked in.

He was grossly outnumbered and the odds were in the favor of Nikjin and his army. She wondered what had become of her father; of Monah, the head warrior, of Seisa, and the other servants. How many werewolves have already lost their lives in this cursed place? How many more would have to die before this nightmare was over? Tears ran down her muzzle from her closed eyes. A silly thought occurred to her that nearly made her giggle out loud. If she’d known that she was coming to an era of civil war, she should have probably gone to bed with the dream stone and her father’s hunting rifle that was stashed in their attic back in Fairbanks. That would have surely tipped this fight in the werewolves'

“Isn’t it the same with the knights? I wouldn’t mind being escorted by one if I happen to have a chance.” “Oh my, you all are a bunch of newbies. Don’t you know that the appeal of a mysterious mage is more than enough to be grateful for? Imagine a night full of excitement and magic.” Oh man, even in this world you really can’t get rid of human nature and habits, huh. I was not surprised that girls in this world are also fangirling over handsome-looking men. I mean, don’t we all? I started to chuckle, and then finally caught my attention, this familiar description of my favorite mage character in one of the books I used to read a lot. It was titled, ‘The Four Roses and the Butterfly’ which wa

My fingers found my clit—already slick, already begging—and the first slow circle made my back arch so hard water sloshed over the edge. “Oh God,” I whispered, even though I knew it was the wrong name to say. I stroked faster. Two fingers sliding over and around my clit while my other hand came up to pinch my nipple the way I imagined he might. The water made everything slippery, louder. I slipped one finger inside myself, then two, curling them the way I’d done every morning for weeks. My hips rocked up to meet my hand. The fantasy took over completely—Father Chris’s voice in my ear, his breath hot against my neck, his fingers replacing mine, thicker, surer,

Fantasy fodder for late-night scrolling. But the card felt real between her fingers. And the ache it sparked low in her belly was very real. She went. The address led her to an unmarked steel door in an alley downtown. A man in a tailored black suit checked her name against a tablet, eyes lingering appreciatively on the dress she’d chosen—deep crimson silk that clung to every curve, slit high enough to flash thigh with each step, neckline plunging just enough to make her feel dangerously exposed. He nodded once. The door opened.

This is a work of dark fantasy fiction and should be read with an open mind and a clear understanding of its mature and controversial themes. Happy Reading ! You can follow my F******k page, Mia X Novels and I*******m Account: miaxnovels, for more stories !

“I'll eradicate every last one of them from the surface of this world, if I have to.” I followed the trial of the cart to an open valley. Meara's scent had just been there, or I could smell a drop of her blood. But something else was there with me. Dead carcass. Immediately it lunged at me as I turned to face it, but I was left stunned. My feral red eyes dimmed for a moment. It was a brown fur Lycan, only that this particular Lycan smelled like a vampire. I had seen this before. A conjuring—Necromancy. Such magic was forbidden, lost to ancient wars. It takes only a powerful witch to be able to conjure a soul from the underworld into a dead Lycan's body.