Fx M or F The Groovy Pineapple (Novella, Plot-based, Fantasy, & More)

Vivid

Joined
Jun 9, 2022
Groovy


Hey, thanks for stopping by.

............I'm Vivid.

I've been writing for a long while: 19+ years.
I'm a female in the 30s with sporadic online times.
I'm a Novella writer that posts 1k+ words in Threads.
I write in 3rd​ Person, and Past Tense, Plot-Based stories.
I prefer MxF pairings, though I might be convinced to do FxF.

My Common Tags:
Action/Adventure, (Dark) Fantasy
Medieval (esque), Victorian (esque)
Plot-Based, Novella, Vanilla, MxF
Magic, Witches, Demons, Vampires
Violence (non-sexual), Light Bondage


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If you like writing story-length posts in public threads that are plot heavy and not strictly smutty, then please read on.

I'm Vivid, and I have recently moved over to this forum after needing a fresh start into my story writing. I get in and out of creative slumps, but I'd love to find the motivation to get me writing and posting every other day or sooner. I'm not asking for miracles or expecting them, though. I have a surplus of responsibilities that come first, such as my family life and my job, I guess. Gotta' make that money, honey. Otherwise the order of importance would absolutely be shifted into a more favorable order for me. I don't press people for posts. If you have to take a month to respond, that's okay too, but it might be harder for me to get back into the groove of writing again. Same expectations need to go for me, too. While I have dreams of posting frequently, I may get delayed and I don't want to be nudged for responses.

I tend to try to paint pictures with my words, wanting the reader to know exactly what I'm trying to describe to them as I write. That being said, my posts are pretty long. I'm not bragging here, it's just how things happen. I want you to smell the air, see the sky, hear the birds that have just launched out of a tree in a crazy flutter of frantic wings. You know? And next thing I know, I've already filled up a page and a half of things for you to read and I'm still not done. To those that are accustomed to writing in such a way, you will find I like to react to your post as well as give you more to work with. I'm always about finding a way to move the story forward when possible, even though I'm not rushing, I don't want to sit around in the same scene for six posts. I think that gets me bored which is also why I don't tend to do well in a Slice of Life type story.

This brings me to Out of Character (OOC) chatter. I prefer having an open line of communication with someone I write with. There may be instances where I've got a good flow going and don't want to stop, though I'll have to ask a few questions about your character and the general reactions they might have to situations. I find this style fun, not complicated. If it sounds too busy and you think you'd rather have smaller posts of only dialogue (But I mean this in an "all the time" sort of way), well to be honest, that makes me cringe a little. I want to deliver a mighty passage for you to read over and over again because it makes you smile and gets you excited to write back to me. I won't be in a good writing flow if I'm just sending small responses throughout a day's time, and I'm not always available to do a lot of back and forth posting like that. So I'd rather give my partner a big hunk of meat to chew on and digest for a bit. I love getting the same. Give me a lot to work with, I can take it.

I like to write in a way where you play as the main character of a story while mine is the support to help accomplish the goal, whatever that may be, or the other way around. I'm also open to there being two heroes of the story, if you will, but overall, I enjoy building dynamics between characters and focusing on a story of power struggles, a romance, and working toward reaching the metaphorical finish line. That being said, I do prefer long-term stories, and if I end up enjoying our writing chemistry I might even be down to come up with other plots and have multiple roleplays going at once.

I really like to write fantasy, and there are so many ways to do it, but I tend to prefer there being a good deal of action and adventure alongside it. Darker themes with battles and violence against their enemies is ideal, with the end of times looming over head and threatening the existence of man. And while I enjoy fantasy, I'm not so big on High Fantasy with Kitsune, Neko, Orcs and the like as main characters. On the flip side, I do enjoy a Demon, Vampire, or maybe even Werewolf if any of these were written in a way that appealed to me. The main thing here is having a humanesque form that they stay in for the majority of the time. I don't tend to write around the idea of a pairing of two people, though. So while we could have a demon x witch, or a human x vampire, I don't like to build a plot around a couple. WHY does the Vampire exist and WHAT makes him interesting enough to be featured in a long story? So while I do have things for you to look at below, you won't find a list of pairings.

I also don't write around my kinks, so you won't find an extensive list of those, either. I'll tell you that my I tend to play a Switch female that is more submissive than dominant. I do enjoy Dominant males to play against; I don't want a whining, submissive male as a main character. I like when men are rugged, have battle wounds/scars and aren't perfect. All of the things that build up to a solid romance story should be fine so long as it makes sense.

If any of this sounds appealing, please reach out. But if you do reach out, I'd appreciate it if you had an idea ready to discuss from the get-go. And just to answer any other little questions: I write in 3rd​ person, past tense. I won't write in DMs. I don't write fandom/canon stories. I communicate through the site unless otherwise discussed. Images are fine, as are written descriptions, but I prefer digital images to look more like portraits and less like anime if they're used.






My Plot List........My Writing PromptsMy Writing Samples
Plot 1: The Curse
YC is a man in his 40s, living alone in his large home/property with only his servants left by his side. He has a son that's 18 and has recently come home with a young woman to wed. YC's wife died years ago, but before she did, she cursed him (you can pick the curse or I can, but I want it to be interesting, keep him stuck at home one way or another, and make it unappealing).

MC, a woman in her 30s, has cared for her much younger sister for many years as their mother had passed away during her sister's birth, and their father was often off on sea voyages to make ends meet. Finding out that her sister was running off with some man to get married left MC worried. Since the young couple rushed off to meet his father, MC feels it is her duty to go do the same and meet his family. Unaware of his personal relations at all, she is sure to find a surprise when she arrives.

This plot should have elements of fantasy, a dark curse, and be set in a victorian-type era. As far as the son and sister goes, we can each write for one of them. The main focus will not be on the son and his betrothed, it'll just be a little side story. I've left it pretty open in general here so that we can modify this as desired.
Plot 2: Arranged Marriage
A noblewoman is rumored to dabble in sorcery, which is severely frowned upon. Her father has had trouble securing a marriage for her, but at last she is promised in marriage to a nobleman (who does not take much stock in rumors) before he is called off to war. Years pass with no news and he is thought to be dead. One day he returns home from battle and she is expected to marry this man she has never met after she has developed a life on her own.

Determined to return the land to its former glory, the nobleman makes plans to set off and find the source of the shadow. His new wife is caught performing magic and is subsequently charged with sorcery, punishable by law. In order to save his wife, he whisks her along with him on his expedition.
Plot 3: Atlantis
Atlantis was always said to be a lost city, and in a way, it is. But it's not simply resting at the bottom of the Ocean somewhere. No, Atlantis is actually an alien station in another world that connects many other worlds together, like one giant space market. The station has many worlds, and anywhere it's linked to, there are doors people can enter.

Earth used to have a connection way back. Atlantis was found floating out in the middle of the Ocean once. However, humans abused their rights to the city, trying to steal materials and weapons, ultimately planning to take over the city. The Atlantians punished the humans by breaking the door to Atlantis, disconnecting their world and their magic from Earth. Humans were devastated as they lost the path to advances in technology, along with the essences of magic.

MC is from another world, a water nymph if you will, or Undine. She certainly looks human, but can change her form to pure water if needed. She was visiting Earth at the time of the Great Divide, and as the magic faded, oddly enough, her body turned to stone as she sank to the bottom of the sea. The "statue" is found, dragged from the Ocean and donated to a museum, thought to be a long lost Greek Sculpture. But soon, it's discovered the statue is crying, and the church is involved. While most humans are looking for a miracle, YC is looking for a link to magic and a way to leave Earth.
Plot 4: Of Gods & Demons
(This one is a huge plot. I have a lot more information I won't link here, including a list of 8 gods, information on the world's religion, a cult, and more.)

Long ago, when the Gods were young and the Earth Realm below was untamed, they created man. The Gods watched men from the Celestial Plane, offering them aid and support when they cried, shelter when they grew cold and tired, fruits when they ached of hunger. The world became more defined as the Gods physically changed it for their men. However, some of the Gods were less kind to the mortals below. These Gods brought fierce storms, severe droughts, intense heat, fires, floods; they wanted the mortals to bow to them and worship the Gods loudly with dance and song while they ruled by fear.

The Gods, like parents arguing over how to raise their children, began to fight amongst themselves, creating a rift in the Celestial Plane. In this time, the mortals began to notice the lack of answered prayers, no matter how long they cried and called. The rift provided something more: magic. Men that were caught in the corporeal rifts of the Gods were altered down to their very genetic coding. Some could control fire, others could cure wounds. The absence of the Gods made men stronger, but also less faithful to those that had created them. Instead, mortals began to worship men that controlled magic as false idols.

In the Celestial Plane, time was not measured the same as it was on earth. Once the Gods had stopped fighting, many, many years had passed below where the mortals lived. Shocked, the Gods began to find ways to regain their worshipers with blessings of foods and glittering gemstones, others with lightning strikes and storms. But, the mortals were a stubborn sort of creation. They were determined to make their own paths, and they had magic on their side. It was hard to say if man even believed that any God still existed.

Desperate for the attention of man, the Celestial Plane hustled with creation after creation. When one God created a cat, another made a dragon. Some pushed with kindness, warmth and love, while others insisted that man would know the Gods with fear, helping them to never forget again.

The Gods were at one another's throats. Once again, they began to fued, this time with strength and magic. When all was settled, the less noble of the Gods (ones that preferred cruelty and pain) had been forced out of the Celestial Plane, and farther away, past the Earth Realm. They were banished to the Chaos Dimension.

The Gods, trapped in the Chaos Dimension for so long, became twisted and warped. No longer resembling their mighty forms they once held, their eyes, once light, turned to a deep shade of purple; their wings, once white and feathered, changed black and balding. Some of them grew horns that split through the tops of their foreheads. These Gods, bitter and angry, were called Demons.

The Demons, wanting nothing more than revenge, and destruction of the mortal world, often attempted to push through to the Earth Realm. As a God in the Celestial Plane, it was easy to interact with Earth Realm and the men in it, but the barrier that surrounded the Earth Realm was stronger than the powers of demons.

Men, with their lessened faith, made it increasingly difficult to interact with the realm from anywhere other than on Earth. The Gods and Demons alike could no longer alter the world the way they had once done. Instead, they found other ways of interaction, like possessing animals, for instance. As time progressed, some Gods were able to possess a man that was still devout, and as an attempt to reestablish a relationship with their creations, they had mortal-birthed children. These children were born stronger than most, and had a natural gift for the magical arts. But there was something else about these Half-God children that was unique. In the Chaos Dimension, their spirits shined like a beacon, light and energetic.

The demons, wanting to have whatever this light was, attempted to seek it out. As the Half-Gods did unbelievable and remarkable things in the world, men began to show more faith, because, as that child was told, he was the son of a God. This, in turn, left their realm more open to visits from either side. The Demons, finally being able to sink their claws into the light that was the Half-God's soul, possessed them, only to find their destruction. The Half-God, also destroyed in the process, found his spirit in the Celestial Plane with full God abilities and strengths.

The Demons began to wise up, realizing that they were lessening their own ranks, and possibly making the Celestial Plane stronger. They approached things differently, forcing their own breed of children into the world. These children, born out of hate and bitterness, were created with evil in their blood. As a mutation, a child with a bloodline that tied them to a Demon would always have one purple eye.

In the Chaos Dimension, these children were tantalizing to their senses. Instead of the white lights like the Half-Gods shone, these Half-Demons glowed with a radiant red, and smelled sweet, like nothing they'd sensed ever before. A true beacon, the Demons dubbed their children "Vessels" and attempted to create as many as possible so that they might possess and conquer the Earth Realm once and for all.


Intro Continued:

Many, many years ago, before anyone knew what a Vessel was, or what they could unleash into the world, one such Vessel, a man named Kassic, studied as a mage. He worked tediously, his one purple eye a simple conversation starter and nothing more.

As Kassic aged, he grew stronger with his magic, but secluded himself underground, away from the light of day. Rumors stated he had become an insomniac, and when he did sleep he was plagued with nightmares. The reality was something close to this-- Being a Vessel, a beacon for demons, gave him terrible visions, and nightmares, too. He felt haunted.

Once he had turned twenty years old, the beaconing light within him, this "demon catnip," had reached its full potency. Thinking he was going crazy, he felt it was safer for everyone else if he was alone. However, he wasn't really alone.

A demon, Talona, the greatest enemy of the Goddess Menethil, watched him, spoke to him. She teased his ears with promises of power, of freedom from his madness. She promised him the world, and soon after, Kassic gave in to Her. Once he stopped resisting, Talona was free to take on his form without harming the body, almost completely obliterating Kassic's soul— that thing that made him an individual person; a human.

Talona waged war over the Earth Realm, all while wearing Kassic's body like a meat suit. People soon called him "Kassic the Mad." Talona's demonic, God-like powers were at their best and She crumbled cities, burnt down forests, froze rivers, and unleashed plagues. Many men were lost to Her terror, but there were some that fought back!

Later called the Titans, a group of six men, all from different Guilds of the kingdoms, came together as friends to stop Kassic the Mad. Armed with their weapons and magics, they battled hard, aiming to weaken Kassic enough to make him withdraw. However, it was only then, when Kassic was weak, that a harsh voice, not of a man's, spoke out, declaring Her name and Her business.

Once the Titans understood that Kassic was possessed by a Demon God, they prepared themselves for a holy ritual in which none of them intended to survive. The Titan leading the group was unique. He was said to be the son of a God, and unlike other men, he had control over all magics, not just one element. Ba'tar, a just and honorable mage, gave his comrades courage and strength. They marched on Talona, chanting their Holy ritual. In the end, though not many have details of the exact occurrences, Ba'tar gave the final blow in the ritual, and he sacrificed himself so that his friends, the other Titans, could live.

There was much clean-up after the battle, and the remaining five Titans fought to push back the rest of the demon-creatures that had been summoned to Earth by Talona. By the end of the war, three others had died, leaving only two Titans left to tell the tale.

After the Earth began to recover from the War of the Realms, one of the Titans, a mage named Bagrim Loust, went on to start a division called "The Academy Of Magical Arts and Defense." Any child that possessed magical abilities was ordered to transfer to an Academy Division to study and train to protect the Kingdoms from Demonic threats. Laws were issued to either kill or forfeit children born with a purple eye. The Divines issued notices, declaring what Gods were recognized in the Kingdoms for worship. Ba'tar's name was added at the end of the list as a New God, allowing eight total Gods legally worshiped by civilians.

The world remained this way for over a thousand years. . .
Prompt 1: The Ring
You find a ring while out on a walk-
partially covered by leaves but the
glimmer catches your eye.
You put it on, then discover it won't come off.
You tug at it, then notice more detail in the area
on the ground including dried, old blood
and a severed finger. But why?
Prompt 2: Hero of Worlds
A random storm triggers an earthquake in another realm.
You become tied to the fate of both worlds.
Do you ignore the call, or embrace heroism?
Prompt 3: The Chosen One
You're outside when someone is killed in front of you.
As they take their last breath,
a symbol appears that only you can see.
But what does it mean?
Sample 1: Standard Post
Lorelei coughed as she inhaled smoke from the fiery battle behind her. Her eyes stung and watered causing her to squint; she was barely able to see. She wiped at them with the back of her hand, trying to rid herself of the tears blocking her sight. It helped, but not enough for her to notice the new fighter staring at her with his bright blue gaze. If she had seen the way he looked her up and down, as if he was planning his next play in a game of chess, she might not have been so surprised to feel the cool grasp of his arms lifting her up against his body. A soft but sharp gasp of shock escaped her lips, though she didn’t offer much more in the way of noise. Screaming had never benefited her in the past. In fact, it typically only made things worse.

"Hold on," he told her. She was puzzled by such a command. He was clearly issuing an order to her, but never before had she been given one with such a gentle tone. There wasn’t much time to consider his words as he was already on the move with her in tow. She wrapped her arms around the man that claimed her. She gripped onto him, feeling cool, metallic armor hidden behind the scratchy fabric of his cloak. He climbed upward, something a normal man shouldn’t have been able to do so easily. Perhaps this was a demon that held her so carefully, or maybe she had slipped into a heavy hallucination and this is what it was like when a Vessel lost its body to possession.

His arm was wrapped snugly around her, and for a moment, she found that she enjoyed it. It was highly unlikely that Lorelei would ever find herself in a gentle but strong embrace of a man under different, more intimate circumstances. His hand lowered, and even as her body flushed with heat from his hand touching her thigh, she was still freezing. Not only was the air outside dropping in temperature with small droplets of rain falling from above, but the tall male had then leapt into the frigid air, causing a cool rush to encompass them. She shuddered into him, unable to prevent herself from indicating how cold she was.

They landed outside safely. He was hunched over her, staring into her eyes with such an intense gaze. He was so serious. He continued to hold her closely to his figure as his other arm held the two of them up over the ground. The suddenness of him taking her away had distracted her from the demons that were threatening her existence moments ago, but soon the beckoning whispers attempted to claw their way back into her mind. She looked back to the chapel, yearning for her necklace. She needed it.

Mere moments passed before she heard the desperate calls of Bastion looking for his pet. She locked her jaw, not wanting to go back with the swordsman that bellowed out for her. But her new captor didn’t budge. What was happening? Suddenly, Bastion exclaimed as he spotted the two of them there, sounding both accusing and panicked in tone. Lorelei looked back up at the blue eyes above her. He began to move away from the chapel once the swordsman had spotted them, but he wasn’t in a hurry. Then he told her to scream. Lorelei was confused. While it was true that this was a terrifying situation, screaming wasn’t going to aid her now. She was a prisoner one way or another. This had become the reality of her entire life. What was the point? There was no freedom in sight. Metaphorical or not, it was just another set of chains.

The man spoke more, and as he did it seemed as though he was slipping into another place in time. His eyes were nearly glazed over as if he was looking through her instead of at her. He sounded as though he was speaking to someone he’d known for a long time, not a girl he’d just scooped up from a random encounter. Was this a rescue after all? It was daft to think such hopeful thoughts. The Gods. He held such a distaste on his tongue when he mentioned them. Did he truly hate the gods? The mention of Ba’tar was interesting. Whatever this man was recalling from the depths of some lost part of his life, he found it to be unjust.

“The Gods are not so present in this world today, sir.” She hesitantly moved a shivering hand to his cheek in hopes of pulling him out of his torment. She brushed a strand of his silvered hair to the side, watching to see his eyes shift into focus. Feeling embarrassed for touching him, hoping not to be beaten by such a bold move, she jerked her hand away, holding it near her chest. She still held onto him with her other hand, though he didn't need help carrying her. His body was so tall and slender, yet there was such strength behind it. Not that Lorelei was a heavy creature by any means. She was practically all bones. The Vessel looked down, avoiding his eyes; those piercing eyes. She shouldn’t have touched him like that.

Not long after she had withdrawn her hand from his face had his hand found it again, fingers wrapping around her wrist as he did. He gripped onto her fingers as his long fingers moved down, and as she heard sounds she mistook for more demon mind-games in her own head, he had quickly pulled her arm toward his lips, sinking impossible fangs down into her flesh. He got the scream he was after. This time, Lorelei couldn’t calculate what choice to make; remain quiet or speak up? There was no such moment, just the high pitched sound of sudden pain as her flesh was stabbed into by his teeth. He released her, only just hurting her enough, and she pulled her arm to her body. She stared at him with a hurt expression, not understanding what had happened. He’d asked her to scream before. Was that truly all he wanted out of her? She looked back at the swordsman that ran at them, shouting more as he ran after them with his shield clunking against his back.

“Hey! You!” he was furious. “Give us back the bitch, you cunt! I’ll cut you down!” his mouth was foul.

Lorelei still trembled, though she wasn’t sure what was from her fear and pain, and what was from the cold. Above her, she heard a soft apology and she glanced up cautiously. He wasn’t looking at her. Was he actually sorry? Her mind spun. Blood trickled down her forearm in two small paths that met at a midway point and became one. “It’s okay.” she said quietly, realizing how much she meant what she said. She couldn’t remember a time someone had ever apologized to her. “Are you a demon?” she asked him, her tone a little more worrisome now. She knew, as a Vessel, demons would want her. But she never knew how precisely a demon would take her. The nasty woman-spider certainly wanted to control her body from the inside, of that she was sure. But this man seemed to have something else in mind and she couldn’t fathom what it was.
Sample 2: Standard Post
Orla watched the exchange between her father and the dragon-man. It was real. Her head spun. Had her father's mental state ever actually slipped at all if such things were the case? Everyone knew dragons weren't real-- they'd been killed off long ago. Her stomach turned over with guilt. She genuinely thought her father was mad. Orla ran her slender fingers through her hair, ruffling it back into waves away from her face. What could she even say after so long to make up for it?

"Father, I--" she began. Her words disappeared as if she had lost her voice. The king smiled at her. Did he understand? Straightening her frame, she gave her father obedient attention, shifting it to Caledon as he took over explaining their promise. So, this man had been responsible for protecting the kingdom even though she had never been aware of it. He was keeping her father safe. Her kingdom. Her. Her features softened, some of her anger finally leaving her.

Caledon approached her freely, grasping her hand in a very forward way. Orla suddenly found herself very suspicious of what was happening. He mentioned her strength and she scoffed, misinterpreting what he meant fully.

"Did you think seeing you transform would completely disable me? I'm fine. It was just unexpected." That was the least of it. She was still processing, but the men weren't finished talking. Her father cleared his throat as if to continue with his original thought. Her eyes followed Caledon's every movement, watching as his massive wings wrapped around his body. She wondered if they were still fully functional. It seemed like if a man could fly when he wanted to he would, but she had never seen men amongst the clouds.

Her imagination faded to black as her father finished his sentence. Marriage to him? The dragon?

"That's nonsensical. He's not even human, father. Revoke such a promise. Sir, we can offer you riches that could keep your bed far warmer than I--"

"It's not open for debate, Orla." He warned her. His scolding tone made her quiet, like a child still fearful of her father. She wanted to object but how could she?

"They're going to declare war, father," she said with a pleading tone.
Sample 3: Steamy Post
Even after Kori confessed so much, she watched as Jacob grinned at her, his expression alive with satisfaction at how she'd been so blunt with her desires. A small smile formed across her own lips as she stared at him. He spoke, his soft words soothing the stinging bites along her lip. She tilted her face up into his teasing tongue, meeting his kiss with tender affection. If she hadn't been so completely riled up by his touching and teasing already, she would have enjoyed just laying there in his arms, blocking out the world as she stayed there in his embrace. He broke away from the kiss and she looked at him with a gentle, rather loving glint in her eyes. As the minutes rolled ever forward between the two of them, she grew more and more attached. It was easy to picture herself staying there with him— forgetting the rest of the world as she left it all behind to stay.

She wanted to ask Jacob why he was so willing to keep her. He seemed genuinely happy. How could she be the root of it? She'd felt that pull to be around him so long ago— it had always been there, somewhere in the back of her mind. It was much more than an instant attraction; she wanted to know him and learn anything he ever wanted to share. He always seemed to find her when it mattered, too. As unaware as he was about it, he'd left her with a lasting impression. And then, when he'd been so scarce, he would surface one more time, just to be the first to cheer her on again. Those little things that hadn't meant much to him, perhaps, but Kori had found his efforts immensely important and held them dear to her heart. In the past, just seeing him around, or hearing his name sent waves of excitement rippling through her. She'd been just anybody— another number, buried in the masses of people that flooded the bar. She wasn't anything special, and yet as he held her there, she couldn't feel like she was anything other than that. For as long as he allowed it, she would be his. It was so simple.

Kori could feel how he craved the things that she wanted, too. His every touch against her skin, every gasp and growl that rumbled in his throat; she was on a fast path to falling and he was driving her there with every desperate kiss, every hungry look and the way his hands refused to leave her. Thank the fates they'd bumped into each other the way that had that night. Living in a world without him seemed so dull and empty now that they were together. How had she ever been living at all before that night?

She came, and the world spun around them in fast circles while time stood still in that room. She felt so heavy as she laid there, heart pounding, gasping for cool air to enter her lungs. She wasn't sure how long she'd been soaking in the shivering, shuddering bliss that consumed her entire body. The muscles in her thighs had tightened to the point of nearly forcing his hand away from her as they pressed themselves together. Still lost in the vibrations that nearly paralyzed her, she hadn't fully comprehended that he'd moved enough to remove the last of his clothing. She wasn't even sure when he'd managed to move so close to her throat, but her breathing grew even more labored as he refused to let her excitement fade away. He ran his tongue along her throat like a brush to a canvas— though he had already painted her pale form with colors before. Her body couldn't keep still as his lips found hers. His hand, dampened from her own arousal gripped firmly around her hip as if it were a handle for him to grab. She gasped, the sound escaping through her nose as her tongue collided with his, convincing her to remain in that blissful floating feeling for longer. As Jacob's other hand found her hair she'd nearly lost herself completely to him. He held her so perfectly there in his arms. Kori felt completely intoxicated, though she was completely under his influence, so perhaps it wasn't that far off.

The tip of his cock was suddenly against her. She could feel it. Time suddenly came flooding back to life again as each agonizing, ticking second passed that he inched forward, taking his sweet time. Even if she pleaded and tugged at him to hurry and fill her, she knew he wouldn't. She didn't even try. She gasped little puffs of air through her nose as the head of his cock began to breach her entryway, coated in warm, welcoming fluid that beckoned him to keep going. Her body twitched in anticipation, her fingers tugging at his hair from the roots. Her whimpers grew louder, full of want and need for him. There was no masking how madly she desired to feel him. She was baffled at how disciplined he remained in his endeavor to taunt her with his length. As the tip of him passed and she began to feel the girth of his shaft stretch her, she gasped hard enough to break their kiss. She panted against his mouth, her fingers still clutching his hair as he held her there. Her shaking breaths made way for his name as she called out to him softly, her tone pleading him to give her more.
Sample 4: Fight Post
Before she could so much as think to run or scream, she had been seized by more hands than she cared to count. She wasn’t sure how so many men had grabbed her. One was behind her gripping the back of her neck, while another two each took one of her arms. The last, likely just wanting a piece of her, gripped onto her hair from in front of where she stood and tugged her forward as the other men held her in place. This was definitely not what she had in mind when she imagined her first stay at the Eod Manor. She tried her best to ignore them, not feeling real pain as her protective ward still rested on the bag hooked to her belt.

She resisted as they grabbed and dragged her over to the man, she presumed, was their leader. Her feet tried desperately to dig into the ground, but she was thin, and she was out numbered. The greasy man approached her, and she could hear Cynric practically growl like an animal at them all. Her eyes darted to the side, trying to look around the men in front of her to see him. If she could somehow assure Cynric she was alright, that they could make it out fine-- but, it seemed her husband was only in the position for new scars, and this time, she wouldn’t need the details.

A slimy finger trailed down her nose, and as the man set himself off into mad laughter, she could smell how rancid his breath was. She pulled her face away to avoid his scent, yet still glared at the man that stood before her, all while struggling with her shoulders against the other men. But Linette didn’t scream. She knew, deep down, she still had her words, and if she had to, she would protect herself. She’d give them no reason to gag her.

As Linette attempted to look away from the awful slime-bucket that suggested she be passed around each of his comrades all while her husband watched, the man that held her neck jerked her head back into place. She was careful not to make sounds. She had heard stories from the women she had helped, and she was told of how they became more aroused by her panic and screams. Her nostrils flared with rage, though, as her temper was being tested. The man behind her began to use his free hand to trail up her waist slowly, taking his time to move it around her front to cup just below her breast. He breathed heavily on the back of her head.

Poor Cynric didn’t understand she was still fine. She could defend herself, she never had more confidence, even if her heart did pound against her chest in fright. He yelled out for her, refusing to let the men touch her, causing them to attack him, first. The pace of her breathing increased, and she twisted at her arms, trying to wedge them loose while the men were distracted. Two of the thugs-- the one with her hair, and the one on her left side-- ran after Cynric, leaving Linette with the just two men, one whose bulge she could feel growing against her backside. She felt sick as he pressed harder into her. His hand that had been around her body took her free arm before she could think to defend herself with it.

The scene before her only grew worse. Although Cynric had knocked one out with just his fist, he was still greatly outnumbered. With their leader off to the side, and two holding her, it still left him against seven men. There was a large crack, and with her view no longer blocked, she could see Cynric as he was hit hard in the head. She began to tremble at this point, realizing he wasn’t winning this fight as he fell to his knees. They thought to kill him, and for what? What was the purpose of such cruel, pointless violence? Her teeth clenched at the sight of his blood and upon hearing what she could only imagine was a man asking to eat her husband for dinner.

A new feeling welled up inside of her. The man she wasn’t sure she could ever love; the man she hated for taking away her freedom-- he was hers now. And as he sat on the ground painted in his own blood, it occurred to her that she did not wish to be without him. She had only just discovered his humor, his smile and laugh. This wasn’t something she was ready to stop exploring with him. She wanted to know Cynric, and each of these bandits threatened her new life.

It was no longer time to conceal her secret. As much as Cynric cared about his promises, Linette never looked to anyone to protect her. She would kill every last one of them herself for what they had done and planned to do. “Fevero.” she hissed in a furious whisper.

The men holding her began to squirm, wriggling on either side of her. She could feel heat against her skin where they held her, and within seconds, they released her. A man with an ax stood before Cynric, ready to cleave his head but Linette stepped forward with the wave of her hand, “Don’t you dare!” she screamed. The man flew sideways, into a set of rods and hooks on a wall of the stable, piercing through him like a kabob. He had flown so quickly, the ax dropped from his hand, bouncing off of the ground, landing not far from Cynric.

The leader, greasy and now frightened of her, screamed at his men that once held her. He pointed an accusing finger at her, waving it as if it could somehow keep her away.
“A witch! Witch! Kill her!” he cried as he inched himself away from the fighting.

The men that held her captive only moments before cried in blood curtling screams as their insides began to boil and fester within them. Linette had already set them off into a world of pain, and they would not be touching her again. They scratched and clawed at the skin on their arms and faces, as if they were trying to dig out what was happening beneath the surface. But what she had done to them would not stop, and she turned just long enough to see blood flowing out of their noses, eyes and ears. She smashed them flat onto the ground with another livid wave of her hand. With their insides almost all turned to liquid, their bodies deflated in pools of red around them, their ribcages piercing through their backs, splitting their skin.

There were now four men out of the fight, and six left. Her eyes froze on her husband, and although she feared what he would do with the knowledge she revealed so savagely, she couldn’t take it back. And in her mindstate, she wasn’t able to stop.

Power still surged within her, and although she had been upset about the barrier at her father’s coming down, she needed this energy it had granted her. With one hand stretched out toward her husband, she spoke again. “Persano.” Her voice was sure and strong in sound, and the wound on Cynric’s head began to close itself quickly, stopping his bleeding at the very least.

She walked to her husband, standing on his side where he was blind, guarding him from surprise. Her eyes looked wild and animalistic as she stared at the group of men. Once having the upperhand, they now shook in their boots. For any step she had taken, they had backed away. She swung her hand again as the thugs tried to retreat, closing off every possible exit they might run to. The only man she hadn’t kept a well enough eye on was the coward of a leader that had already run in the confusion.
Sample 5: Fight Post Cont'd
“Inexcusable!” she hissed as she eyed her next victims. Her blood-rage was growing, and she would not be satisfied until every last one of them had been ripped apart- by any means! Two men had backed themselves into a wall, their sweaty palms barely holding onto their daggers as they cowered in fear. She slit her eyes at them, twisting her frame to the side with another hand motion already in the process. She cut the air with each twist and slice of her hand. Every movement was precise.

From the two men she had melted, she called forth their rib bones that stuck out, exposed from their backs, and they pulled apart from the fresh corpses with loud cracks, floating up into the air. Pointed and jagged bones hovered there briefly before she set them loose like arrows upon a battlefield. Each bone pierced through the men as if they were pincushions, one even landing square in the fat one’s eye, and they sputtered and coughed up blood as they both slumped over onto the ground.

She kept to her husband’s side, but made sure to note where he was and what he was doing. He was likely as furious as she was the way he moved from weapon after weapon. Through such a blood-lust, she wished she could watch him more attentively, but there was one more she had to find.

Linette didn’t look for long, as the last man had found her. The bravest of them all since she attacked them; He stepped toward her with a shield and sword. She was fairly certain it had been Cynric’s shield because she had seen it before on their journey to Eod. She huffed in amusement and took a single step forward. He swallowed and stood his ground. She wasn’t in the mood to play this game.

The man ran at her suddenly, sword in the air, as he roared with all his might. She stood there, feet spread apart, hands by her side. As he swung the weapon, she whispered. “Umbella.” A giant bubble of blue magical light encased her at the strike of his sword, and on impact, he bounced away, dropping the weapon. The light faded and she found him lying on the ground. She motioned upward with her index finger, and Cynric’s shield pulled away from the man, spinning like a wheel in the air. She smiled at the bandit before pulling her finger back in, and the shield plummeted downward, landing directly onto his throat, slicing through and decapitating him.

She looked around the stables. She could see no other foe, and Cynric was making mash with the last one he had killed. He shook with rage, and as her own fury began to retreat, she found herself fearful of what was to come. Her husband met her stare and she stood statue-still, waiting for him to say anything. A younger version of herself would have run, but she was far beyond that point. She would take whatever punishment Cynric deemed necessary, even if it was death by the hammer he wielded. At least she would go with glory in her own way. She had saved an innocent man, proved to herself how powerful she could be. The only thing that troubled her was how Cynric’s opinion of her would now drastically change, and it left her with a hollowness in her heart. She looked down, breaking their stare.


 
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