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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica

The Gemini goddess

I love to flirt

Big time and

Have a good time,

I love the art of seduction,

I love when a man

Flirts back with me

And don't ruin

The mood for me,

I love talking dirty

And knowing

I'm turning him on

With just my words,

Knowing i'm

Getting him all horny

And hot and bothered,

I love knowing

He is fantasizing

About me in bed,

I love how he plays along

And describe to me

In details

What he wants to do to me,

I don't love

A man who only

Thinks about

Pleasing himself,

I love a man

Who wants to

Please us both

And is not selfish,

I have a high sex drive

So it would be hard

To keep up with me,

I have a wild

Fantasies and fetishes

That i want to

Try in bed,

My imaginations

Is all over the place

And always running wild,

I love to experiment

And i have

A dominatrix side,

I love the chase

and the thrill

Like the predator

and prey,

I have my deep

Sexual , beast self

Hiding deep inside of me,

It would take the right man

To bring the animal out

To play,

If you bore me

Or are not

Exciting enough for me

Or can't keep me entertained

We won't get along,

If you can't keep up with me

I will not be waiting

Around in the sidelines,

You need to be

Exciting , a freak

And adventurous

For me to consider you,

I love man

Who loves

Trying something new,

I love receiving oral sex

And giving pleasure back,

When i'm sexually turned on

I end up talking dirty,

I can't help myself

Must be the animal inside,

Tell me..

Would you be able to bring out my horny beast lurking inside my self?

Or maybe, you won't be able to tame me or get the chance to see that side of me that is trying to break lose..

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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica
The Gemini goddess
I love to flirt
Big time and
Have a good time,
I love the art of seduction,

I love when a man
Flirts back with me
And don't ruin
The mood for me,

I love talking dirty
And knowing
I'm turning him on
With just my words,

Knowing i'm
Getting him all horny
And hot and bothered,

I love knowing
He is fantasizing
About me in bed,

I love how he plays along
And describe to me
In details
What he wants to do to me,

I don't love
A man who only
Thinks about
Pleasing himself,

I love a man
Who wants to
Please us both
And is not selfish,

I have a high sex drive
So it would be hard
To keep up with me,

I have a wild
Fantasies and fetishes
That i want to
Try in bed,

My imaginations
Is all over the place
And always running wild,

I love to experiment
And i have
A dominatrix side,

I love the chase
and the thrill
Like the predator
and prey,

I have my deep
Sexual , beast self
Hiding deep inside of me,

It would take the right man
To bring the animal out
To play,

If you bore me
Or are not
Exciting enough for me
Or can't keep me entertained
We won't get along,

If you can't keep up with me
I will not be waiting
Around in the sidelines,

You need to be
Exciting , a freak
And adventurous
For me to consider you,

I love man
Who loves
Trying something new,

I love receiving oral sex
And giving pleasure back,

When i'm sexually turned on
I end up talking dirty,
I can't help myself
Must be the animal inside,

Tell me..

Would you be able to bring out my horny beast lurking inside my self?

Or maybe, you won't be able to tame me or get the chance to see that side of me that is trying to break lose..



#fantasy  #Gemini 
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Written by AWriter in portal Fantasy

Penelope...

It had been a long time since dragons had ruled the world but that didn't stop them from being smug youknowwhats. The smuggest of all was a dragon named Autolatry. Far to old to change his ways, Autolatry hadn't quite gotten used to the idea, or even entertained the idea, that people now ruled the known world. The idea just didn't suit his preferred order of things. He continued to burn villages to the ground, stealing princesses only sightly less obnoxious than himself; hiding them away from wannabe knights in high towers atop higher mountains.

But as with all great villains, an end to his evil ways was drawing nearer by the day. A hero, named Penelope (The man registering births that year had been rather deaf), was growing up in a small town; ruled by the single thought of rescuing the damsels from their high towers and slaying the dragon. Then one day, all grown up, rusting blade in hand, he had arrived at Autolatry's gate.

He knocked to no reply (his mother was big on manners), so quiet as a mouse, he snuck through the "open" gates, through the great hall to the place where Autolatry lay upon a bed of gold. Great snores rumbled through the hall, sleep was rare for dragon kind and when it hit, the sleep was deep and vast. With a sicker-snack Penelope parted Autolatry from his head. Not an eyelid flickered, not a noise was made. The dragon had been slayed!

Off he went, proclaiming to all, "The deed is done, dragon is dead!" Cheers echoed through the streets but fame I am afraid, did get the better of Penelope. He soon demanded a price be paid, for ridding the land of Autolatry. But greed grows if fed. Soon princesses were only returned upon payment... Economies collapsed under the weight of heavy taxations brought about to pay the might sums that were demanded; soon the land was beyond repair and the people beyond despair.

So history teaches us, that far too often, one villain is replaced by another and that evil comes in many forms. 

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Written by AWriter in portal Fantasy
Penelope...
It had been a long time since dragons had ruled the world but that didn't stop them from being smug youknowwhats. The smuggest of all was a dragon named Autolatry. Far to old to change his ways, Autolatry hadn't quite gotten used to the idea, or even entertained the idea, that people now ruled the known world. The idea just didn't suit his preferred order of things. He continued to burn villages to the ground, stealing princesses only sightly less obnoxious than himself; hiding them away from wannabe knights in high towers atop higher mountains.

But as with all great villains, an end to his evil ways was drawing nearer by the day. A hero, named Penelope (The man registering births that year had been rather deaf), was growing up in a small town; ruled by the single thought of rescuing the damsels from their high towers and slaying the dragon. Then one day, all grown up, rusting blade in hand, he had arrived at Autolatry's gate.

He knocked to no reply (his mother was big on manners), so quiet as a mouse, he snuck through the "open" gates, through the great hall to the place where Autolatry lay upon a bed of gold. Great snores rumbled through the hall, sleep was rare for dragon kind and when it hit, the sleep was deep and vast. With a sicker-snack Penelope parted Autolatry from his head. Not an eyelid flickered, not a noise was made. The dragon had been slayed!

Off he went, proclaiming to all, "The deed is done, dragon is dead!" Cheers echoed through the streets but fame I am afraid, did get the better of Penelope. He soon demanded a price be paid, for ridding the land of Autolatry. But greed grows if fed. Soon princesses were only returned upon payment... Economies collapsed under the weight of heavy taxations brought about to pay the might sums that were demanded; soon the land was beyond repair and the people beyond despair.

So history teaches us, that far too often, one villain is replaced by another and that evil comes in many forms. 
#fantasy  #fiction  #adventure  #philosophy  #dragons 
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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica

Breakfast, Lunch, snack & dinner

•Adult content. Viewer discretion advised.Enjoy the ride on the pleasure train.After all, were all addicted to something..mine happens to be..•

Lick, lick

My pussy up

With your wet, pink tongue,

Stick your tongue

Inside my pussy

And let me ride

Your mouth,

Let me grind

on you,

As you eat me up,

Use your magic

Tongue down on me,

I'm never satisfied

Playing by myself,

In need of your

Massive cock,

In need of orgasm ,

after orgasm

In need of a big ,

orgasmic release

My fingers can't,

do the job properly,

Your cock

Would give me

All the release

I desperately need and crave,

Slide your dick

Up and down

The outside of my pussy,

Building anticipation and lust,

I'm a nymphoniac

Need to be fucked

All the time,

Getting aroused

All the fucking time,

Getting

Horny all the time,

Wanting and needing

Dirty, kinky

And messy sex,

And wanting

To talk dirty

And to fuck,

Wanting to flirt

And be a naughty girl,

I won't let you

Deny my request

Your my prisoner

Who will

Fill me up,

Whenever i need to fuck,

You'll be there

Satisfying my

Every need,

Your cock

Belongs to me now,

I'm your master

Your my sex prisoner,

Can't stop thinking

About wanting

You to fuck me

Deep and deeper,

Pounding me

Until we're breathing

Heavy and hard,

Fuck me in every position

And everywhere

On the bed, in the living room

Against the kitchen counter,

On the floor, on the chair

Against the wall, standing up

On the table, on the couch

In the shower and in front

Of the mirror,

Make all my

Sex fantasies come true

And i'll make

Your fantasies come true,

I want to be

Your side chick

Your main chick

Your regular chick,

Fuck love, fuck relationships

Fuck life, fuck stress

Fuck rules, fuck working,

Fuck , getting to know

Each other

Let's just fuck,

Sex and cock

Would be more

addicting

To me

Than anything else,

I'am super addicted

And want it all the time

Wouldn't get enough of it,

Would you be able to keep up with my sexual arousal?

Or you don't think, you can handle a nymphoniac like me?

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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica
Breakfast, Lunch, snack & dinner
•Adult content. Viewer discretion advised.Enjoy the ride on the pleasure train.After all, were all addicted to something..mine happens to be..•

Lick, lick
My pussy up
With your wet, pink tongue,

Stick your tongue
Inside my pussy
And let me ride
Your mouth,
Let me grind
on you,

As you eat me up,

Use your magic
Tongue down on me,

I'm never satisfied
Playing by myself,
In need of your
Massive cock,

In need of orgasm ,
after orgasm
In need of a big ,
orgasmic release
My fingers can't,
do the job properly,

Your cock
Would give me
All the release
I desperately need and crave,

Slide your dick
Up and down
The outside of my pussy,
Building anticipation and lust,

I'm a nymphoniac
Need to be fucked
All the time,
Getting aroused
All the fucking time,

Getting
Horny all the time,

Wanting and needing
Dirty, kinky
And messy sex,

And wanting
To talk dirty
And to fuck,

Wanting to flirt
And be a naughty girl,

I won't let you
Deny my request
Your my prisoner
Who will
Fill me up,

Whenever i need to fuck,
You'll be there
Satisfying my
Every need,

Your cock
Belongs to me now,
I'm your master
Your my sex prisoner,

Can't stop thinking
About wanting
You to fuck me
Deep and deeper,

Pounding me
Until we're breathing
Heavy and hard,

Fuck me in every position
And everywhere
On the bed, in the living room
Against the kitchen counter,

On the floor, on the chair
Against the wall, standing up
On the table, on the couch
In the shower and in front
Of the mirror,

Make all my
Sex fantasies come true
And i'll make
Your fantasies come true,

I want to be
Your side chick
Your main chick
Your regular chick,

Fuck love, fuck relationships
Fuck life, fuck stress
Fuck rules, fuck working,

Fuck , getting to know
Each other
Let's just fuck,

Sex and cock
Would be more
addicting
To me
Than anything else,

I'am super addicted
And want it all the time
Wouldn't get enough of it,

Would you be able to keep up with my sexual arousal?

Or you don't think, you can handle a nymphoniac like me?
#fantasy  #lust  #pleasure  #addictions 
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Chapter 9 of The Culling of Casimir
Written by Harlequin in portal Fantasy

Chapter 9: Two

    Every ending entails a beginning. Before, I used to think that some beginnings come without a conclusion. But between those two, an almost paradoxical cycle emerges, wherein nothing dies without life, and thusly no beginning comes without end. And so, with a keen eye upon these two forces, we find that the two are not only inseparable … they are precisely the same.

    From our first breaths, each of us is given a gift, a reminder of that waltz of beginnings and ends, a contraption that perfectly captures mortality’s essence, simply by counting away the seconds.

    “Something troubling your heart?” Sarkana asked as we sat cross-legged in front of the fire, a cigarette of nitskel tucked between my third and ring finger. Between the small space between us, Fahim’s letter lay on the floor, almost ominous in the flickering light.

Felix shook his head and sneezed after I exhaled a cloud of smoke, but Sarkana just inhaled the aroma deeply, not disapproving of the habit, but longing for it after having to break her own addiction years before.

    Beyond the windows, the sanctuary had invited dusk into its imposing structures, where the architecture seemed to grow on an atmosphere of smoldering daylight. The jutting stonework and turrets developed shadows that began slipping off, one by one, to join the twilight. And I wondered, too, just when I might slip from the sanctuary and back into the world. Within the next morning, or by the week’s end?

    “Yes. But nothing concerning the letter,” I admitted to her. “My mind wandered elsewhere.”

    Perhaps it was the way her eyes met mine, or how warmly she spoke to me, or even how she seemed perfectly comfortable when silences grew between us, but I felt she desired more from our brief meeting than a temporary stay. I, too, would have been tempted to linger, were it not the for the nature of her studies, her secrecy, and the way that she watched how my eyes observed the details of her home. It was as if she expected more.

    “Thinking of the King?” she offered.

    “No, actually not.”

    “What is it, then?”

    “I was wondering, well, I was wondering why you haven’t spoken of my leaving your sanctuary. Why have you allowed me to linger without question?”

    Having been bent close to me and the letter, she recoiled as if I had hurt her, her eyebrows strained closer together, and her lips formed a tight frown. I had the sense that my departure would remind her of a particular shadow of pain, one I might’ve temporarily banished by interrupting the stillness of her solitude. Scars of loneliness reopen at even the most innocent encounters, reminding the soul of what relief may come with company. After all, what more did she have to gain from hiding a wanted murderer?

    Her eyes narrowed at the suspicion in my voice. “Truthfully, the thought had hardly crossed my mind, Casimir,” she replied, her voice now lowered to the pitch of a disappointed whisper. “I was convinced our similarities dissolved the constraints between strangers. I suppose I was foolish to assume as much. Foolish …” she murmured, shaking her head.

    “Sarka—”

    “You needn’t apologize. I should have known I am not half as charming as I thought,” she chuckled darkly to herself, but I could hear the sadness behind her surprise. “I didn’t raise the subject of your departure because I thought you … enjoyed it, here. That you felt safe, even.”

    “You are under no illusion of that, Sarkana. I do,” I said, now uncertain of the truth. “I was only wondering.”

    She paused. Her fingers curled around her wrist as she outlined some of the scars there. “I suppose I should tell you, so long as we are clearing the air.”

    “Tell me what?”

    “I haven’t been entirely transparent with you, Casimir.” I waited, nervousness curling in my stomach as ice encrusted her words after my suspicions had turned her affability to indifference. “I have had a large task asking for my attention for some time now, one that simply can’t be done alone. Given your skills, I thought you’d be of use to me. There would be no shortage of payment, either, if you so desired it.”

    “But you … you saved my life!” I scoffed. “I would gladly help you with anything you desired, no payment necessary.” As much as I felt uncomfortable accepting the request of a necromancer, any other response seemed unthinkable.

    “You will?” But she didn’t jump to her feet in thrilled surprise. The question uttered from her lips as if she was thinking aloud, considering whether I meant it or not. Her thumb moved back and forth over her lower lip while her eyes, once more, didn’t quite gaze into mine, but far past them. “But let’s not think on that now. We can speak of it at a later time. The letter is more important.” She cleared her throat. “How were you—”

    Her hand was reaching towards Fahim’s correspondence, but I stopped it with my own. “Wait. Please don’t think ill of me. You understand, don’t you? Living alone for so long, would you say that you have any reason to trust anyone? Is that not one reason that drove you to immerse yourself in your work? The world is full of chaos and unpredictability, but the one thing you can always rely on is that it is cruel.”

    The back of her hand lingered beneath my palm. For a moment, it began to turn as if she meant to wrap her fingers around mine. A gesture not of romance, but of an instinctual, perhaps innocent yearning. Instead, she shook her head and pulled away. “No, of course, of course. It is. You are right. I won’t hold your caution against you. It was a moment of weakness, that’s all,” she said, looking more ashamed than the admittance felt. “As I said when I met you, it has been a long while since I’ve spoken to someone else.”

    “That’s all right. I’ll pretend it never happened, as long as you promise the same.”

    “Of course,” she answered, the warmth somewhat revived in her voice. The rings beneath her eyes were richly colored, tinged by a distress that seemed to replace what should have been exhaustion. The longer she worked in her study, the more withdrawn her demeanor became, as if the fatigue of her body alarmed her.

    After our conversation in the gardens, she had secluded herself in her underground study, kindly asking that I not disturb her unless she emerged. I had managed to keep my curiosity at bay, passing the day by washing myself, my garments, and practicing performance routines with Felix in the gardens.

    “Now, what do you make of this?” she asked, nodding at the letter.

    “It is written in his own handwriting, that much I can tell. To my eyes, there are no riddles, no games, nothing hidden beneath the words.”

    “But that might as well be the riddle you are looking for,” Sarkana observed quickly. “There’s nothing amiss in a letter corresponding to a fugitive? Doesn’t that seem …”

    “Amiss?” I laughed.

    “Exactly.”

    I tapped some ashes into the fireplace and inhaled another burning gust into my lungs. In spite of the obvious possibilities of setting my own trap by sending anything at all to Fahim, I had already decided how I would reply to his request. “It certainly does.”

    “So don’t go, then,” Sarkana pushed. “Why risk dying for the sake of curiosity?”

    “Dying for curiosity would still be better than most deaths. However,” I said, holding up a finger, “this isn’t about curiosity, and I have no plans of dying. Fahim’s handwriting is unmistakable, which means he is alive, or at least he was when he wrote this. The scratches of a raving bird,” I sighed. “It’s hardly legible.” I tossed the letter into the fire and rubbed my eyes. “It was my fault at all for sending something. I thought I was in danger. But now, I might’ve put him at risk.”

    “Could, might’ve, perhaps … these are needless thoughts. It was not any fault of yours to feel endangered. But now there is little to do. Your friend knows you are alive and well, and you know he is at least one of those. Is that not enough?”

    “To a cold heart, perhaps. All the same, Fahim might have written this with a blade pointed toward his throat. The poison was concocted using plants from his stores. If any of William’s family investigated the castle, it would not take long for them to assume something devious of the magister. If they’re using him to get to me, they may kill him if this letter doesn’t earn them an appearance.”

    “He’s an alchemist,” Sarkana replied, “not some dull-witted apothecary. If there was a way of assuring his innocence, he would have found it by now. What could you possibly do to help him? Rest assured, your assassination of the King has earned you the burden of all his previous crimes. And with your bonafide title as a performer in Addoran, your name is large enough to carry those crimes quite far … even the skinning of his wife.”

The persistence behind her eyes gleamed grey in the firelight, and just like her hospitality, seemed unquestioning. I could not help but think her undying concern for my safety had less to do with me and more to do with the task she mentioned. All I had to do was look up above the fireplace, where that skeleton lay affixed to the ceiling, to remind myself just how little I knew about the person sitting in arm’s reach of me.

    “I never quite thought of it that way,” I realized aloud. “I’ll never be able to travel without turning my head to watch behind me, will I?”

    “Sellswords, bounty hunters, assassins. You earned yourself quite the audience, Casimir, the most avid kind, too. They’ll be pining for you, alive or dead.”

    The nitskel smoldered cold between my fingers as my thoughts ran, ashes scattered across my legs, and the fire in the hearth crumbled. This was nothing short of what I prepared myself for, but after all the cards had laid themselves bare, reality felt more shocking than my worst expectations. “It’s quite flattering, really,” I joked.

    “In the truest sense!” Sarkana continued. “It’s rare that somebody takes a liking to you whether your head is on or off.”

    “True, true. Though I think most folks prefer me with mine removed.”

    “I know I do.”

    “What now?”

    Sarkana laughed gleefully. “But humor won’t decide this, will it?” she asked with a sad smile.

    “Decide it? I’ve already steeled myself to go! I thought we were just passing the time.”

    Her calm expression shattered. “Then you’re determined to run to another meeting with death?! For a murderer, you seem utterly entranced by the idea of getting yourself killed.”

    “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

    She sighed in exasperation, blowing away a few strands of white hair that had fallen in front of her face after she’d hung her head down in defeat. “The truth is that you have no idea what is waiting for you at those crossroads. If this is a ruse, they will not take this chance lightly. They’ll bring more men than you can count, more arrows than they need, more swords than is necessary. There will be blood, and in all likelihood, you will contribute the most of it.”

    “But what would a proper crossroads be without a little uncertainty?” I returned, but the tight line of her lips spoke nothing of amusement. I could imagine Fahim sitting in his chamber, not guarded for his protection, but to keep him hostage. I could imagine him toiling over a potion he cared just enough for to distract his mind from the fact that he was luring his friend to his demise, how he was torn between wishing for my safety or his own to be ensured. “It’s settled then. Tomorrow, a date with death at dusk, and not a minute late.”

    “You shouldn’t do this. You don’t have to!”

    “No. Nobody has to do anything, but that is what is so infuriating. Our inactions define us as much as our decisions. Who would I be to let Fahim die on my behalf? Without him, I might’ve never brought myself to do what should have been done much sooner. I’d go, whether there is danger or not. I owe him that much at least.”

    “You’ll die for your gratitude, then? Your compassion?”

    “Not if you help me.”

    “And why might I do that? My undying love for you?”

    “Certainly, but more importantly, the task that you need my assistance for. I just happened to be the only person you let into your life, around the precise time you needed someone other than yourself? Just how blind do you think I am?”

    Sarkana snickered. “Not half as much as I thought a few moments ago.”

    “There you have it, then.”

    She heaved a defeated sigh. “You know, you look less conniving than you are. Did that help you when you were younger?”

    “Immensely. Apparently, it still hasn’t lost its touch.”

    “Apparently,” she echoed back. “Apparently.”

    That night, Sarkana broke her rhythm of sleeplessness, insisting that she needed to be as rested as possible if she were to cast spells in a pinch. Instead I found myself restless, turning over the evening’s conversation, the tiptoeing she did around her intentions, and yet, her insistence to protect me.

    That nightmare visited me again, the masks that swirled around my head until I suffocated. When I awoke, I wandered the darkened halls of Sarkana’s home until I found Zuma chewing on one of the hide rugs. Caught in the act, she scampered away. With little else to do, I followed. The imp pushed open a door in the hallway across from my own chamber.

    Inside the bedroom, Sarkana’s silhouette was silver from her almost translucent nightgown, illuminated by the moonlight that flooded through the windows into the much larger room. She had fallen asleep sitting upright against the headboard, one of her hands still resting upon the seer’s eye beside her.

    I began to pull the door shut behind me, before I heard her murmur. I froze, and listened while her dreams tumbled down darker tunnels, where those murmurs became whimpers, quick exhalations and quiet protests stifled by the paralysis of sleep.

    Hesitation fled. I pushed the door back open and stepped inside as the twitching of her body in response to the nightmare became more violent. The bed covers twisted around her as she writhed. The blood imp made no movement to suggest that this was abnormal, in fact, she jumped onto the edge of the bed and curled into a ball to return to sleep. That was when pity compelled me.

    I whispered Sarkana’s name as I knelt beside her. She curled up, and the whimpers turned to light sobs. Tears began to slip down her face as she shook back and forth. I whispered her name again with a hand on her shoulder.

    The nightmare fluttered. Sarkana’s bolted up and stared in confusion at me through the blur of her tears that stuck her eyelashes together.

    She murmured my name as a question, shocked to see me sitting beside her, the haze of the nightmare thick in her voice and squinting eyes.

    “I heard you muttering in your sleep from the hallway. You were crying.”

    “So I was,” she whispered as she wiped her face with her hand and watched as her glistening fingers caught the moonlight. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

    “No, I was sleepless.”

    “Well, thank you.”

    “Of course. I will … let you rest now. Hopefully it won’t return.”

    Gently, she pulled me back by my hand. “Casimir?”

    “What is it?”

    “Do you have any stories like the one I told you?”

    “The one with the rooks?” Hesitantly, I sat at the edge of the bed and wrapped my arms around myself. “I … believe I do, yes.” I looked around the room, observing what I assume was the majority of her skeletal collections as they were scattered about the walls. On either side of the doorframe, two fully-armored human skeletons were posed to be holding drawn swords parallel to their chest, their ancient battle regalia polished to a sheen. I turned my head back to her.

    “Would it be asking too much?”

    “For a nighttime story?” It was as heartwarming as it was humorous, to hear someone like her request such a thing. 

    “Yes.”

    “No, not at all.” I tookfistfuls of the blankets and pulled them over Sarkana’s chest, not surprised to find how comforted she seemed by this. She eased herself down while I set the seer’s eye beside the bed. “My hometown was named after the mountain it sat beneath, Storm Breaker. It was called Breaker’s Edge, a prosperous place that grew from the wealth of Westrun’s fur trade. My mother and father were both leatherworkers, but like you, I had grown up with companions. Or, in my case, just one. A — ah — a fox. Her name was Lisence, and from my earliest years of childhood, a friendship sparked and grew. We hardly left each other’s side.”

    Sarkana’s eyes were closed as she listened. I waited for a question, a response, but she remained silent. I took a deep breath and looked out at the Ruined Sea, collecting those recollections once again. “But the gods have a way of tainting our earliest memories. Maybe it is the only way we could ever learn to survive in a world where corruption is one of the strongest hands of progress. But … I, well, my turn came, I suppose, to be introduced to misery. Some cliffside hyenas had been ravenous from the winter, and in the middle of the night, they wandered into Breaker’s Edge. It was a whole pack of them.”

    “Weren’t there any guards to stop them?”

    “A few, but they were tired, frozen from the night’s watch, and not nearly enough. The hyenas were cunning, they picked through the weakest, took what scraps they could, remaining as quiet as possible until it was inevitable that they were discovered. By the time they were, more guards from Westrun were sent for, but most of the damage had already been done.”

    “What happened to Lisence?”

    “They took her from me.”

    The story was resurrected in the shadows on the wall, the moonbeams that split from between the clouds, playing tricks on my eyes of memories I could not forget, but would rather not remember. Through the thick silence, the rustling of a sea of forestry that sounded so similar to waves splitting against the ground, I heard Lisence scream for me.“Did they kill her, the way the wolf killed my rooks?”

    “I always imagined that they did, but I was never certain. They dragged her away while she cried. I tried to stop them, I did. I ran as fast as I could, and I fought them as hard as I could, but I was young, weak, untrained … useless. You know how hyenas laugh, don’t you? You can imagine how they did as they took her away, while I begged them not to. Shortly after, the guards from Westrun came to assist us, but the pack had already fled. For weeks I waited, hoping for a sign that they had been hunted. Nothing came, though. After that night, I never saw Lisence.”

    For awhile, I thought Sarkana had fallen asleep. Then, and just as I was about to stand from the bed, she said, “Tomorrow, Casimir.”

    “What about it?”

    “Tomorrow we will be the wolves. We will be the hyenas.”

    My mouth hung open, but I found no way to reply, not fast enough at least. Her lips were parted as she breathed lowly with tranquility in her expression. I felt Sarkana’s exhaustion spread until my eyelids were heavy, and my body felt frozen there, staring out at the sparse clouds overhead the sanctuary. I tried to fathom the cascade of events that had brought me here. Here, sitting beside someone who spoke of similarities I could not see, not until now, as the epiphany dawned, alive in a still quiet that nightmares could not penetrate. What death could construct from bitter hands, a life fostered from vengeance, and the pursuits born from the hollows of its inadequate findings.

    There lay Sarkana Bloodbane, a necromancer, a wielder of death and life, yet just as I tormented as I, just as driven as I, by the memories death gifted us in our innocence. Pulled along like puppets on strings, our actions driven by a yearning for resolution, wondering all the while why it could not be found in the place where it was first made, in those complex contraptions we call hearts.

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Chapter 9 of The Culling of Casimir
Written by Harlequin in portal Fantasy
Chapter 9: Two
    Every ending entails a beginning. Before, I used to think that some beginnings come without a conclusion. But between those two, an almost paradoxical cycle emerges, wherein nothing dies without life, and thusly no beginning comes without end. And so, with a keen eye upon these two forces, we find that the two are not only inseparable … they are precisely the same.
    From our first breaths, each of us is given a gift, a reminder of that waltz of beginnings and ends, a contraption that perfectly captures mortality’s essence, simply by counting away the seconds.
    “Something troubling your heart?” Sarkana asked as we sat cross-legged in front of the fire, a cigarette of nitskel tucked between my third and ring finger. Between the small space between us, Fahim’s letter lay on the floor, almost ominous in the flickering light.
Felix shook his head and sneezed after I exhaled a cloud of smoke, but Sarkana just inhaled the aroma deeply, not disapproving of the habit, but longing for it after having to break her own addiction years before.
    Beyond the windows, the sanctuary had invited dusk into its imposing structures, where the architecture seemed to grow on an atmosphere of smoldering daylight. The jutting stonework and turrets developed shadows that began slipping off, one by one, to join the twilight. And I wondered, too, just when I might slip from the sanctuary and back into the world. Within the next morning, or by the week’s end?
    “Yes. But nothing concerning the letter,” I admitted to her. “My mind wandered elsewhere.”
    Perhaps it was the way her eyes met mine, or how warmly she spoke to me, or even how she seemed perfectly comfortable when silences grew between us, but I felt she desired more from our brief meeting than a temporary stay. I, too, would have been tempted to linger, were it not the for the nature of her studies, her secrecy, and the way that she watched how my eyes observed the details of her home. It was as if she expected more.
    “Thinking of the King?” she offered.
    “No, actually not.”
    “What is it, then?”
    “I was wondering, well, I was wondering why you haven’t spoken of my leaving your sanctuary. Why have you allowed me to linger without question?”
    Having been bent close to me and the letter, she recoiled as if I had hurt her, her eyebrows strained closer together, and her lips formed a tight frown. I had the sense that my departure would remind her of a particular shadow of pain, one I might’ve temporarily banished by interrupting the stillness of her solitude. Scars of loneliness reopen at even the most innocent encounters, reminding the soul of what relief may come with company. After all, what more did she have to gain from hiding a wanted murderer?
    Her eyes narrowed at the suspicion in my voice. “Truthfully, the thought had hardly crossed my mind, Casimir,” she replied, her voice now lowered to the pitch of a disappointed whisper. “I was convinced our similarities dissolved the constraints between strangers. I suppose I was foolish to assume as much. Foolish …” she murmured, shaking her head.
    “Sarka—”
    “You needn’t apologize. I should have known I am not half as charming as I thought,” she chuckled darkly to herself, but I could hear the sadness behind her surprise. “I didn’t raise the subject of your departure because I thought you … enjoyed it, here. That you felt safe, even.”
    “You are under no illusion of that, Sarkana. I do,” I said, now uncertain of the truth. “I was only wondering.”
    She paused. Her fingers curled around her wrist as she outlined some of the scars there. “I suppose I should tell you, so long as we are clearing the air.”
    “Tell me what?”
    “I haven’t been entirely transparent with you, Casimir.” I waited, nervousness curling in my stomach as ice encrusted her words after my suspicions had turned her affability to indifference. “I have had a large task asking for my attention for some time now, one that simply can’t be done alone. Given your skills, I thought you’d be of use to me. There would be no shortage of payment, either, if you so desired it.”
    “But you … you saved my life!” I scoffed. “I would gladly help you with anything you desired, no payment necessary.” As much as I felt uncomfortable accepting the request of a necromancer, any other response seemed unthinkable.
    “You will?” But she didn’t jump to her feet in thrilled surprise. The question uttered from her lips as if she was thinking aloud, considering whether I meant it or not. Her thumb moved back and forth over her lower lip while her eyes, once more, didn’t quite gaze into mine, but far past them. “But let’s not think on that now. We can speak of it at a later time. The letter is more important.” She cleared her throat. “How were you—”
    Her hand was reaching towards Fahim’s correspondence, but I stopped it with my own. “Wait. Please don’t think ill of me. You understand, don’t you? Living alone for so long, would you say that you have any reason to trust anyone? Is that not one reason that drove you to immerse yourself in your work? The world is full of chaos and unpredictability, but the one thing you can always rely on is that it is cruel.”
    The back of her hand lingered beneath my palm. For a moment, it began to turn as if she meant to wrap her fingers around mine. A gesture not of romance, but of an instinctual, perhaps innocent yearning. Instead, she shook her head and pulled away. “No, of course, of course. It is. You are right. I won’t hold your caution against you. It was a moment of weakness, that’s all,” she said, looking more ashamed than the admittance felt. “As I said when I met you, it has been a long while since I’ve spoken to someone else.”
    “That’s all right. I’ll pretend it never happened, as long as you promise the same.”
    “Of course,” she answered, the warmth somewhat revived in her voice. The rings beneath her eyes were richly colored, tinged by a distress that seemed to replace what should have been exhaustion. The longer she worked in her study, the more withdrawn her demeanor became, as if the fatigue of her body alarmed her.
    After our conversation in the gardens, she had secluded herself in her underground study, kindly asking that I not disturb her unless she emerged. I had managed to keep my curiosity at bay, passing the day by washing myself, my garments, and practicing performance routines with Felix in the gardens.
    “Now, what do you make of this?” she asked, nodding at the letter.
    “It is written in his own handwriting, that much I can tell. To my eyes, there are no riddles, no games, nothing hidden beneath the words.”
    “But that might as well be the riddle you are looking for,” Sarkana observed quickly. “There’s nothing amiss in a letter corresponding to a fugitive? Doesn’t that seem …”
    “Amiss?” I laughed.
    “Exactly.”
    I tapped some ashes into the fireplace and inhaled another burning gust into my lungs. In spite of the obvious possibilities of setting my own trap by sending anything at all to Fahim, I had already decided how I would reply to his request. “It certainly does.”
    “So don’t go, then,” Sarkana pushed. “Why risk dying for the sake of curiosity?”
    “Dying for curiosity would still be better than most deaths. However,” I said, holding up a finger, “this isn’t about curiosity, and I have no plans of dying. Fahim’s handwriting is unmistakable, which means he is alive, or at least he was when he wrote this. The scratches of a raving bird,” I sighed. “It’s hardly legible.” I tossed the letter into the fire and rubbed my eyes. “It was my fault at all for sending something. I thought I was in danger. But now, I might’ve put him at risk.”
    “Could, might’ve, perhaps … these are needless thoughts. It was not any fault of yours to feel endangered. But now there is little to do. Your friend knows you are alive and well, and you know he is at least one of those. Is that not enough?”
    “To a cold heart, perhaps. All the same, Fahim might have written this with a blade pointed toward his throat. The poison was concocted using plants from his stores. If any of William’s family investigated the castle, it would not take long for them to assume something devious of the magister. If they’re using him to get to me, they may kill him if this letter doesn’t earn them an appearance.”
    “He’s an alchemist,” Sarkana replied, “not some dull-witted apothecary. If there was a way of assuring his innocence, he would have found it by now. What could you possibly do to help him? Rest assured, your assassination of the King has earned you the burden of all his previous crimes. And with your bonafide title as a performer in Addoran, your name is large enough to carry those crimes quite far … even the skinning of his wife.”
The persistence behind her eyes gleamed grey in the firelight, and just like her hospitality, seemed unquestioning. I could not help but think her undying concern for my safety had less to do with me and more to do with the task she mentioned. All I had to do was look up above the fireplace, where that skeleton lay affixed to the ceiling, to remind myself just how little I knew about the person sitting in arm’s reach of me.
    “I never quite thought of it that way,” I realized aloud. “I’ll never be able to travel without turning my head to watch behind me, will I?”
    “Sellswords, bounty hunters, assassins. You earned yourself quite the audience, Casimir, the most avid kind, too. They’ll be pining for you, alive or dead.”
    The nitskel smoldered cold between my fingers as my thoughts ran, ashes scattered across my legs, and the fire in the hearth crumbled. This was nothing short of what I prepared myself for, but after all the cards had laid themselves bare, reality felt more shocking than my worst expectations. “It’s quite flattering, really,” I joked.
    “In the truest sense!” Sarkana continued. “It’s rare that somebody takes a liking to you whether your head is on or off.”
    “True, true. Though I think most folks prefer me with mine removed.”
    “I know I do.”
    “What now?”
    Sarkana laughed gleefully. “But humor won’t decide this, will it?” she asked with a sad smile.
    “Decide it? I’ve already steeled myself to go! I thought we were just passing the time.”
    Her calm expression shattered. “Then you’re determined to run to another meeting with death?! For a murderer, you seem utterly entranced by the idea of getting yourself killed.”
    “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    She sighed in exasperation, blowing away a few strands of white hair that had fallen in front of her face after she’d hung her head down in defeat. “The truth is that you have no idea what is waiting for you at those crossroads. If this is a ruse, they will not take this chance lightly. They’ll bring more men than you can count, more arrows than they need, more swords than is necessary. There will be blood, and in all likelihood, you will contribute the most of it.”
    “But what would a proper crossroads be without a little uncertainty?” I returned, but the tight line of her lips spoke nothing of amusement. I could imagine Fahim sitting in his chamber, not guarded for his protection, but to keep him hostage. I could imagine him toiling over a potion he cared just enough for to distract his mind from the fact that he was luring his friend to his demise, how he was torn between wishing for my safety or his own to be ensured. “It’s settled then. Tomorrow, a date with death at dusk, and not a minute late.”
    “You shouldn’t do this. You don’t have to!”
    “No. Nobody has to do anything, but that is what is so infuriating. Our inactions define us as much as our decisions. Who would I be to let Fahim die on my behalf? Without him, I might’ve never brought myself to do what should have been done much sooner. I’d go, whether there is danger or not. I owe him that much at least.”
    “You’ll die for your gratitude, then? Your compassion?”
    “Not if you help me.”
    “And why might I do that? My undying love for you?”
    “Certainly, but more importantly, the task that you need my assistance for. I just happened to be the only person you let into your life, around the precise time you needed someone other than yourself? Just how blind do you think I am?”
    Sarkana snickered. “Not half as much as I thought a few moments ago.”
    “There you have it, then.”
    She heaved a defeated sigh. “You know, you look less conniving than you are. Did that help you when you were younger?”
    “Immensely. Apparently, it still hasn’t lost its touch.”
    “Apparently,” she echoed back. “Apparently.”

    That night, Sarkana broke her rhythm of sleeplessness, insisting that she needed to be as rested as possible if she were to cast spells in a pinch. Instead I found myself restless, turning over the evening’s conversation, the tiptoeing she did around her intentions, and yet, her insistence to protect me.
    That nightmare visited me again, the masks that swirled around my head until I suffocated. When I awoke, I wandered the darkened halls of Sarkana’s home until I found Zuma chewing on one of the hide rugs. Caught in the act, she scampered away. With little else to do, I followed. The imp pushed open a door in the hallway across from my own chamber.
    Inside the bedroom, Sarkana’s silhouette was silver from her almost translucent nightgown, illuminated by the moonlight that flooded through the windows into the much larger room. She had fallen asleep sitting upright against the headboard, one of her hands still resting upon the seer’s eye beside her.
    I began to pull the door shut behind me, before I heard her murmur. I froze, and listened while her dreams tumbled down darker tunnels, where those murmurs became whimpers, quick exhalations and quiet protests stifled by the paralysis of sleep.
    Hesitation fled. I pushed the door back open and stepped inside as the twitching of her body in response to the nightmare became more violent. The bed covers twisted around her as she writhed. The blood imp made no movement to suggest that this was abnormal, in fact, she jumped onto the edge of the bed and curled into a ball to return to sleep. That was when pity compelled me.
    I whispered Sarkana’s name as I knelt beside her. She curled up, and the whimpers turned to light sobs. Tears began to slip down her face as she shook back and forth. I whispered her name again with a hand on her shoulder.
    The nightmare fluttered. Sarkana’s bolted up and stared in confusion at me through the blur of her tears that stuck her eyelashes together.
    She murmured my name as a question, shocked to see me sitting beside her, the haze of the nightmare thick in her voice and squinting eyes.
    “I heard you muttering in your sleep from the hallway. You were crying.”
    “So I was,” she whispered as she wiped her face with her hand and watched as her glistening fingers caught the moonlight. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
    “No, I was sleepless.”
    “Well, thank you.”
    “Of course. I will … let you rest now. Hopefully it won’t return.”
    Gently, she pulled me back by my hand. “Casimir?”
    “What is it?”
    “Do you have any stories like the one I told you?”
    “The one with the rooks?” Hesitantly, I sat at the edge of the bed and wrapped my arms around myself. “I … believe I do, yes.” I looked around the room, observing what I assume was the majority of her skeletal collections as they were scattered about the walls. On either side of the doorframe, two fully-armored human skeletons were posed to be holding drawn swords parallel to their chest, their ancient battle regalia polished to a sheen. I turned my head back to her.
    “Would it be asking too much?”
    “For a nighttime story?” It was as heartwarming as it was humorous, to hear someone like her request such a thing. 
    “Yes.”
    “No, not at all.” I tookfistfuls of the blankets and pulled them over Sarkana’s chest, not surprised to find how comforted she seemed by this. She eased herself down while I set the seer’s eye beside the bed. “My hometown was named after the mountain it sat beneath, Storm Breaker. It was called Breaker’s Edge, a prosperous place that grew from the wealth of Westrun’s fur trade. My mother and father were both leatherworkers, but like you, I had grown up with companions. Or, in my case, just one. A — ah — a fox. Her name was Lisence, and from my earliest years of childhood, a friendship sparked and grew. We hardly left each other’s side.”
    Sarkana’s eyes were closed as she listened. I waited for a question, a response, but she remained silent. I took a deep breath and looked out at the Ruined Sea, collecting those recollections once again. “But the gods have a way of tainting our earliest memories. Maybe it is the only way we could ever learn to survive in a world where corruption is one of the strongest hands of progress. But … I, well, my turn came, I suppose, to be introduced to misery. Some cliffside hyenas had been ravenous from the winter, and in the middle of the night, they wandered into Breaker’s Edge. It was a whole pack of them.”
    “Weren’t there any guards to stop them?”
    “A few, but they were tired, frozen from the night’s watch, and not nearly enough. The hyenas were cunning, they picked through the weakest, took what scraps they could, remaining as quiet as possible until it was inevitable that they were discovered. By the time they were, more guards from Westrun were sent for, but most of the damage had already been done.”
    “What happened to Lisence?”
    “They took her from me.”
    The story was resurrected in the shadows on the wall, the moonbeams that split from between the clouds, playing tricks on my eyes of memories I could not forget, but would rather not remember. Through the thick silence, the rustling of a sea of forestry that sounded so similar to waves splitting against the ground, I heard Lisence scream for me.“Did they kill her, the way the wolf killed my rooks?”
    “I always imagined that they did, but I was never certain. They dragged her away while she cried. I tried to stop them, I did. I ran as fast as I could, and I fought them as hard as I could, but I was young, weak, untrained … useless. You know how hyenas laugh, don’t you? You can imagine how they did as they took her away, while I begged them not to. Shortly after, the guards from Westrun came to assist us, but the pack had already fled. For weeks I waited, hoping for a sign that they had been hunted. Nothing came, though. After that night, I never saw Lisence.”
    For awhile, I thought Sarkana had fallen asleep. Then, and just as I was about to stand from the bed, she said, “Tomorrow, Casimir.”
    “What about it?”
    “Tomorrow we will be the wolves. We will be the hyenas.”
    My mouth hung open, but I found no way to reply, not fast enough at least. Her lips were parted as she breathed lowly with tranquility in her expression. I felt Sarkana’s exhaustion spread until my eyelids were heavy, and my body felt frozen there, staring out at the sparse clouds overhead the sanctuary. I tried to fathom the cascade of events that had brought me here. Here, sitting beside someone who spoke of similarities I could not see, not until now, as the epiphany dawned, alive in a still quiet that nightmares could not penetrate. What death could construct from bitter hands, a life fostered from vengeance, and the pursuits born from the hollows of its inadequate findings.
    There lay Sarkana Bloodbane, a necromancer, a wielder of death and life, yet just as I tormented as I, just as driven as I, by the memories death gifted us in our innocence. Pulled along like puppets on strings, our actions driven by a yearning for resolution, wondering all the while why it could not be found in the place where it was first made, in those complex contraptions we call hearts.
#fantasy  #TCOC  #Talosguideme  #MrFrodo 
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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica

The magic hookah

When his dick so fucking good and it's the best you've ever had.and it's the fucking magic hookah.you had to save it for some other time.

Just hide his keys, his shoes, his clothes & bus tickets. So he ain't going nowhere, like boy where you think you running off to?

I'm keeping you forever baby. Get your ass back here.you belong to me now.

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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica
The magic hookah
When his dick so fucking good and it's the best you've ever had.and it's the fucking magic hookah.you had to save it for some other time.

Just hide his keys, his shoes, his clothes & bus tickets. So he ain't going nowhere, like boy where you think you running off to?

I'm keeping you forever baby. Get your ass back here.you belong to me now.
#fantasy 
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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica

Unbound the chains

You took a really good girl

And you turned

her into a bad thang,

You took her innocence

And turned her

Into a sex addict,

You showed her

The side of sinning

Of pleasure

Of being naughty

Of pushing

Through the limits

And breaking

Through the rules,

You opened up her eyes

To a whole new world

Of sexual pleasure,

You got her obsessed

You got her craving

For the bad thang,

You got her losing control

You got her losing

Her good self,

You got her wanting

Your white cock

You got her

Wanting your body,

You got her wanting

To please you

You got her wanting

For you to please her,

You got her imagining

Dirty deeds in her head,

You got her thinking

About fucking all the time,

You got her body

Wanting pleasure,

You got her body craving

For a good pounding

For a good fuck,

You turned her bad

You are dangerous for her

She knows but still

She wants all the bad,

She craved for hands

To touch her

And torment her,

She craved for

The sweats pouring

Down their bodies,

She craved for the heat

And the electricity

She craved to release

Some endorphins

And to feel the

Adreline rush,

She wants to feel it

Taste it and breathe it

She want to smell it

She want to drown in it,

She wants to have

A mind , blowing orgasm

She imagines dirty

Scenarios in her head

And thinks

White guys are fucking sexy

She is attracted to them,

They are her drug

And her endorphins

They are her alcoholic beverages,

She is becoming

An obsessive freak

She wants a guy to

Love and want sex

As much as she does,

She wants to be a sexual

Goddess and mistress

At night time,

And a woman

By day,

The good girl

She knew is gone,

Now she doesn't want to quit

It became her addiction

And she couldn't

Get enough ,

In the nights she is alone

She thinks of fucking

Someone,

She thinks of exploring

Some more

And trying new things,

Pleasure, sin and fucking

Is her drug

And she wanted more

And more of it..

She couldn't escape

No matter how

Much she tries,

Maybe..

She doesn't have to escape..

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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica
Unbound the chains
You took a really good girl
And you turned
her into a bad thang,

You took her innocence
And turned her
Into a sex addict,

You showed her
The side of sinning
Of pleasure
Of being naughty
Of pushing
Through the limits
And breaking
Through the rules,

You opened up her eyes
To a whole new world
Of sexual pleasure,

You got her obsessed
You got her craving
For the bad thang,

You got her losing control
You got her losing
Her good self,

You got her wanting
Your white cock
You got her
Wanting your body,

You got her wanting
To please you
You got her wanting
For you to please her,

You got her imagining
Dirty deeds in her head,

You got her thinking
About fucking all the time,
You got her body
Wanting pleasure,

You got her body craving
For a good pounding
For a good fuck,

You turned her bad
You are dangerous for her
She knows but still
She wants all the bad,

She craved for hands
To touch her
And torment her,
She craved for
The sweats pouring
Down their bodies,

She craved for the heat
And the electricity
She craved to release
Some endorphins
And to feel the
Adreline rush,

She wants to feel it
Taste it and breathe it
She want to smell it
She want to drown in it,

She wants to have
A mind , blowing orgasm
She imagines dirty
Scenarios in her head
And thinks
White guys are fucking sexy
She is attracted to them,

They are her drug
And her endorphins
They are her alcoholic beverages,

She is becoming
An obsessive freak
She wants a guy to
Love and want sex
As much as she does,

She wants to be a sexual
Goddess and mistress
At night time,
And a woman
By day,

The good girl
She knew is gone,

Now she doesn't want to quit
It became her addiction
And she couldn't
Get enough ,

In the nights she is alone
She thinks of fucking
Someone,
She thinks of exploring
Some more
And trying new things,

Pleasure, sin and fucking
Is her drug
And she wanted more
And more of it..

She couldn't escape
No matter how
Much she tries,

Maybe..

She doesn't have to escape..
#fantasy  #drugs  #sins  #addictions 
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Written by Harry_Situation in portal Fiction

Ladies of the Night Part 7

Rosemary, Dominic, Joshua, Krystal, Kayleigh, and Ashley all raced back to the basement to resume their party. They couldn't stop talking about what an awesome fight they just witnessed. An archangel battling against a giant demon. Two veterans of an ancient war that ravaged across many realms reengaged not to hold domain of this world, or determine the fate of souls, but rather to gain respect for one another. To feel the thrill of battle once more course through their veins. A thrilling battle of immortal combat it was. Their attacks shook the very neighborhood they lived in. It was like watching a superhero battle from their favorite comic book movies up close, or video game characters from a fighting game come to life, or the tale of David and Goliath... on superpowered steroids.

The group was divided on who they believed won. While there was no real victor but there was no real loser either. One half boasted that Mike, the archangel, was the winner with the other half defended that Moloch, Dominic's monstrous father, held his ground. Regardless, they all agreed that that fight, and all six of them just hanging out together, made this the best night ever.

"That was, like, totally awesome!" Krystal cheered.

"Very awesome!" Dominic joined in.

"That was a battle of biblical proportions," Joshua proclaimed. "just don't tell my mom I said that."

Rosie said, "Alright, let's get back to our game night. Dom, why don't you see if you can take on Ash in Major Rager."

"I think I'll pass," Dominic sadly said. "How about Ash goes against Kayleigh? I'll sit out."

Dominic walked to the snack table and helped himself to what was left of the pizza slices. Confused, everyone but Rosemary and Ashley placed themselves at the from of the large flatscreen TV. The two friends looked worried for the demon boy, who isolated himself from the others. They then approached the table where Dominic was filling his plate full of cold snacks.

"Hey," Rosemary said. "what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Dominic fibbed, paying no attention to the two humans who tried comforting him.

"Is it something that Ash said?" She asked again.

"Well, that's just it," Dominic retorted. "she hasn't said anything to me. I don't think she likes me all."

Both Rosemary and Ashley gasped at Dominic's comment. Rosie defended, "What? That's crazy. Of course she likes you."

"But when I first talked to her earlier she ignored me. And then when I smelled blood, she just stared at me when I asked if she was hurt. Help me out here? You obviously speak girl."

Rosemary looked onto Ash and replied, "Okay."

Dominic watched closely to see if Rosemary could get her friend to communicate. She lifted her hands before her face and gave Ashley a mixture of hand signals. Ashley said nothing but relayed similar hand motions. Back and forth the girls signaled one another, much to Dominic's surprise.

"What's going on here?" The baffled imp asked.

"Speaking girl, obviously," Rosemary answered. "this is called sign language."

"Sign language? Like for—oh!" Dominic held his forked tongue. He felt lucky that his skin was red otherwise everyone would have seen how embarrassed he was. "I didn't know."

Ashley signed to Dominic while Rosemary translated. "It's cool. Don't worry about it. I went deaf when I was four years old due to a genetic condition called autosomal recessive Alport syndrome. It affects my kidneys by damaging the tiny blood vessels, leading to kidney disease and kidney failure. It can also affect my hearing, though no one is sure how the two are connected. It's only recently that my kidneys started acting up. A usual sign of this is blood in my urine."

"So the blood I smelled was..." Dominic awkwardly said.

"Yeah, that's kinda gross that you detected that." Ash signed. "Sadly, there's no cure for it, and sooner or later my kidneys will completely fail and I'll need a transplant."

"I'm sorry."

Ashley shook her head and signed again. "Please don't be. I know I might be in some pain as I grow older but I'm going to live my life to the fullest. There's medications I take to help treat the symptoms, which is a good start. That's why I want to be a biophysicist like my dad when I grow up, so I can find cures for all kinds of diseases. And you don't need to have Rosie translate for you all the time. I can read lips too. Just treat me like any other kid and we're good. Besides, I think it's so cool you're a demon from Hell."

"Really?" Dominic gleefully said, "Thanks!"

"Hey Dominic," Joshua called from the sofa. "we got an extra controller if you want to join."

Dominic waved to Ash and Rosie before teleporting himself to a cozy spot next to Joshua and Kayleigh. He gladly took the spare game controller from Joshua and joined in on the first-person shooter action. Rosemary smiled at the sight of all her friends, mortal and demonic, getting along so well. Before she could join them she looked at Ashley, who gave her a mischievous smirk.

"What?" Rosie hesitantly requested.

Ashley signed, "Your boyfriend's pretty cute."

Rosemary laughed and signed back, "He's not my boyfriend. But he is cute."

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Written by Harry_Situation in portal Fiction
Ladies of the Night Part 7
Rosemary, Dominic, Joshua, Krystal, Kayleigh, and Ashley all raced back to the basement to resume their party. They couldn't stop talking about what an awesome fight they just witnessed. An archangel battling against a giant demon. Two veterans of an ancient war that ravaged across many realms reengaged not to hold domain of this world, or determine the fate of souls, but rather to gain respect for one another. To feel the thrill of battle once more course through their veins. A thrilling battle of immortal combat it was. Their attacks shook the very neighborhood they lived in. It was like watching a superhero battle from their favorite comic book movies up close, or video game characters from a fighting game come to life, or the tale of David and Goliath... on superpowered steroids.

The group was divided on who they believed won. While there was no real victor but there was no real loser either. One half boasted that Mike, the archangel, was the winner with the other half defended that Moloch, Dominic's monstrous father, held his ground. Regardless, they all agreed that that fight, and all six of them just hanging out together, made this the best night ever.

"That was, like, totally awesome!" Krystal cheered.

"Very awesome!" Dominic joined in.

"That was a battle of biblical proportions," Joshua proclaimed. "just don't tell my mom I said that."

Rosie said, "Alright, let's get back to our game night. Dom, why don't you see if you can take on Ash in Major Rager."

"I think I'll pass," Dominic sadly said. "How about Ash goes against Kayleigh? I'll sit out."

Dominic walked to the snack table and helped himself to what was left of the pizza slices. Confused, everyone but Rosemary and Ashley placed themselves at the from of the large flatscreen TV. The two friends looked worried for the demon boy, who isolated himself from the others. They then approached the table where Dominic was filling his plate full of cold snacks.

"Hey," Rosemary said. "what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Dominic fibbed, paying no attention to the two humans who tried comforting him.

"Is it something that Ash said?" She asked again.

"Well, that's just it," Dominic retorted. "she hasn't said anything to me. I don't think she likes me all."

Both Rosemary and Ashley gasped at Dominic's comment. Rosie defended, "What? That's crazy. Of course she likes you."

"But when I first talked to her earlier she ignored me. And then when I smelled blood, she just stared at me when I asked if she was hurt. Help me out here? You obviously speak girl."

Rosemary looked onto Ash and replied, "Okay."

Dominic watched closely to see if Rosemary could get her friend to communicate. She lifted her hands before her face and gave Ashley a mixture of hand signals. Ashley said nothing but relayed similar hand motions. Back and forth the girls signaled one another, much to Dominic's surprise.

"What's going on here?" The baffled imp asked.

"Speaking girl, obviously," Rosemary answered. "this is called sign language."

"Sign language? Like for—oh!" Dominic held his forked tongue. He felt lucky that his skin was red otherwise everyone would have seen how embarrassed he was. "I didn't know."

Ashley signed to Dominic while Rosemary translated. "It's cool. Don't worry about it. I went deaf when I was four years old due to a genetic condition called autosomal recessive Alport syndrome. It affects my kidneys by damaging the tiny blood vessels, leading to kidney disease and kidney failure. It can also affect my hearing, though no one is sure how the two are connected. It's only recently that my kidneys started acting up. A usual sign of this is blood in my urine."

"So the blood I smelled was..." Dominic awkwardly said.

"Yeah, that's kinda gross that you detected that." Ash signed. "Sadly, there's no cure for it, and sooner or later my kidneys will completely fail and I'll need a transplant."

"I'm sorry."

Ashley shook her head and signed again. "Please don't be. I know I might be in some pain as I grow older but I'm going to live my life to the fullest. There's medications I take to help treat the symptoms, which is a good start. That's why I want to be a biophysicist like my dad when I grow up, so I can find cures for all kinds of diseases. And you don't need to have Rosie translate for you all the time. I can read lips too. Just treat me like any other kid and we're good. Besides, I think it's so cool you're a demon from Hell."

"Really?" Dominic gleefully said, "Thanks!"

"Hey Dominic," Joshua called from the sofa. "we got an extra controller if you want to join."

Dominic waved to Ash and Rosie before teleporting himself to a cozy spot next to Joshua and Kayleigh. He gladly took the spare game controller from Joshua and joined in on the first-person shooter action. Rosemary smiled at the sight of all her friends, mortal and demonic, getting along so well. Before she could join them she looked at Ashley, who gave her a mischievous smirk.

"What?" Rosie hesitantly requested.

Ashley signed, "Your boyfriend's pretty cute."

Rosemary laughed and signed back, "He's not my boyfriend. But he is cute."
#fantasy  #fiction  #horror  #comedy  #sinsofthefather 
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Written by brieannekt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

perilparadox

Perilous distraction crept

into her

bellevue.

On Forbidden turf,

he confessed his love to be true.

She bled tears of despair and

jubilance, the only residue.

The dared to be real, desecrate delusion.

Transitions..through

trials and tribulations.

Enchanting chapters are never read.

The best poetry is never said, but felt in

Fleeting moments now dead.

Illusion is life.

Imagine your way through

-brieanne ©

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Written by brieannekt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
perilparadox
Perilous distraction crept
into her
bellevue.
On Forbidden turf,
he confessed his love to be true.
She bled tears of despair and
jubilance, the only residue.
The dared to be real, desecrate delusion.
Transitions..through
trials and tribulations.
Enchanting chapters are never read.
The best poetry is never said, but felt in
Fleeting moments now dead.
Illusion is life.
Imagine your way through

-brieanne ©

#fantasy  #fiction  #romance  #adventure  #poetry  #mystery  #spirituality  #culture 
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Written by fallingundone in portal Tanka

In the Ruins

the walls are crumbling

     as seasons pass and time fades

         in the end, nothing-

             silence remains, all have fled

                  all the leaves have now fallen

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Written by fallingundone in portal Tanka
In the Ruins
the walls are crumbling
     as seasons pass and time fades
         in the end, nothing-
             silence remains, all have fled
                  all the leaves have now fallen
#fantasy  #poetry  #mystery  #ruins 
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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica

Let me feel pain

•Adult content.viewer discretion is advised.•

Hit me with the chains

Hit me until i feel more pain

Hit me until you leave

Bruises on my bare skin,

Hit me until you leave

Scratches and lines

On my back,

Hit me until

I'm all bruised up,

Hit me with all you've got

Hit me with your hands

Give me all the pain

You can give to me,

I want to feel my pain

And your pain mixed together

I want to feel the pain

Of the world,

And the weight of the world

Weighing down on my shoulders

And my back,

spank and hit my ass

Hit me until it hurts

Hit me until

The tears fall to my face,

Hit me until

I can't feel my body,

Lash me over and over again,

Lash me until the sun goes down,

Hit me with whips, chains, belts,ropes and many more

Tie up my whole body with tape

And ropes

So that i can't move,

Put a gag ball on my mouth

So that i can't scream or shout

Give me all that you've got,

Put a collar around my neck

An treat me like a fucking play toy,

Tease my cunt with different objects

Like a vibrator, a dildo and your dick,

Fuck me raw and hard

Fuck me fast and deep

Fuck me until i feel

Every inch of your fucking cock,

Fuck me until my legs are shaking

Fuck me until i can't take

My orgasms anymore,

Talk filthy, vile words to me

Treat me like the fucking slut i'am

Treat me like a fucking sex slave,

Eat me out and tongue fuck me

Fuck my pussy until

I squirt and squirt and squirt

And cum and cum

Finger fuck me too,

Fuck my mouth with your fucking big cock,

Gag me with your cock

And spurt your hot cum inside my mouth,

Make my eyes water,

Please give me the pain,

I'm in love with pain

I get off on pain,

Please do not be gentle with me

Do not treat me so kind and sweet

Treat me badly, hurt me, fuck me,tease,slap me,hit me

Put nipple clamps on my tits and pull and twist my nipples,

Blind fold my eyes,

Cover my whole body in your hot cum,

Show me how rough those hands can be on my body,

Pull on my hair ,

Wrap your hands around my neck

And squeeze my neck,

Squeeze it until i'm gasping for breaths,

I want to feel all the pain

The world uttered at me

I want to feel the pain

They made me feel

And the pain

for pushing me down on the hard cold ground,

Punish me please

I want to be punished

I want to feel the pain

Of pleasure,

The pain of sins,

Once upon a time..

The animal and sin and pain

Inside of me..

Finally woke up..

And she wanted..

She wanted to feel pain..

She wanted to sin all the time..

She wanted to be bad all the time..

She wanted pleasure and pain

More than anything in the world..

The world pushed her to the limit

She only knew pain..

and now she wants to live on pain..

Please..

Give me all the pain in the world..

The good girl i was is gone forever..

The good girl is replaced by a bad girl now..

And i love that part of myself and i want to explore it some more..

Because i don't care what the world thinks or what the world sees me as..

It's time i do what i crave and want..

Will you explore the pain and pleasure and sin world with me..

Please say yes..

I need it..

I need you..

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Written by Winterreign in portal Romance & Erotica
Let me feel pain
•Adult content.viewer discretion is advised.•

Hit me with the chains
Hit me until i feel more pain
Hit me until you leave
Bruises on my bare skin,
Hit me until you leave
Scratches and lines
On my back,
Hit me until
I'm all bruised up,

Hit me with all you've got
Hit me with your hands
Give me all the pain
You can give to me,

I want to feel my pain
And your pain mixed together
I want to feel the pain
Of the world,
And the weight of the world
Weighing down on my shoulders
And my back,

spank and hit my ass
Hit me until it hurts
Hit me until
The tears fall to my face,

Hit me until
I can't feel my body,
Lash me over and over again,
Lash me until the sun goes down,

Hit me with whips, chains, belts,ropes and many more
Tie up my whole body with tape
And ropes
So that i can't move,

Put a gag ball on my mouth
So that i can't scream or shout
Give me all that you've got,

Put a collar around my neck
An treat me like a fucking play toy,
Tease my cunt with different objects
Like a vibrator, a dildo and your dick,

Fuck me raw and hard
Fuck me fast and deep
Fuck me until i feel
Every inch of your fucking cock,
Fuck me until my legs are shaking
Fuck me until i can't take
My orgasms anymore,

Talk filthy, vile words to me
Treat me like the fucking slut i'am
Treat me like a fucking sex slave,

Eat me out and tongue fuck me
Fuck my pussy until
I squirt and squirt and squirt
And cum and cum
Finger fuck me too,

Fuck my mouth with your fucking big cock,
Gag me with your cock
And spurt your hot cum inside my mouth,
Make my eyes water,
Please give me the pain,
I'm in love with pain
I get off on pain,

Please do not be gentle with me
Do not treat me so kind and sweet
Treat me badly, hurt me, fuck me,tease,slap me,hit me
Put nipple clamps on my tits and pull and twist my nipples,
Blind fold my eyes,
Cover my whole body in your hot cum,

Show me how rough those hands can be on my body,

Pull on my hair ,
Wrap your hands around my neck
And squeeze my neck,
Squeeze it until i'm gasping for breaths,

I want to feel all the pain
The world uttered at me
I want to feel the pain
They made me feel
And the pain
for pushing me down on the hard cold ground,

Punish me please
I want to be punished
I want to feel the pain
Of pleasure,
The pain of sins,

Once upon a time..

The animal and sin and pain

Inside of me..

Finally woke up..

And she wanted..

She wanted to feel pain..
She wanted to sin all the time..
She wanted to be bad all the time..
She wanted pleasure and pain
More than anything in the world..

The world pushed her to the limit
She only knew pain..
and now she wants to live on pain..

Please..

Give me all the pain in the world..
The good girl i was is gone forever..
The good girl is replaced by a bad girl now..

And i love that part of myself and i want to explore it some more..
Because i don't care what the world thinks or what the world sees me as..

It's time i do what i crave and want..

Will you explore the pain and pleasure and sin world with me..

Please say yes..
I need it..
I need you..
#fantasy  #Sin  #pain  #punishment 
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