Scripturient (adj.) having an consuming passion to write. Bit - A novel creator of multicultural erotic romance, fantasy romance and supernatural. Wattpad writer/ fanfiction writer 18+
Comment or message to be added to taglist for any one story or all.
Medicinal Love Series - Contemporary Romance
Aija and Hikaru ~ Genres & Tropes ~ Snippets ~ Characters ~ Worldbuilding ~ Playlist ~ Inspo Blog
WIP Tag
Chronicles of Tydas - Fantasy Romance
Introduction ~ Tarana and King Sol ~ Genres & Tropes ~ Snippets ~ Characters ~ Worldbuilding ~ Playlists ~ Inspo Blog
WIP Tag
Eterno - Contemporary Romance
Nohva and Dominic ~ Genres & Tropes ~ Snippets ~ Characters ~ Worldbuilding ~ Playlist ~ Inspo Blog
WIP Tag
Love Trapped Series - Contemporary Dark Romance
Emeri and Camilo ~ Genres & Tropes ~ Snippets ~ Characters ~ Worldbuilding ~ Playlists ~ Inspo Blog
Tag
Ignition Series - Contemporary Romance
Honorée and Cowen ~ Genres & Tropes ~ Snippets ~ Characters ~ Worldbuilding ~ Playlist ~ Inspo Blog
Tag
Soramerica Sagas - Dystopian / Romance
Seren and Graven ~ Snippets ~ Characters ~ Worldbuilding ~ Playlist ~ Inspo Blog
Tag
Erosae - Supernatural / Romance
Devan and Najee ~ Devan and Blitz ~ Genres & Tropes ~ Snippets ~ Characters ~ Worldbuilding ~ Playlist ~ Inspo Blog
Tag
Blue Tokyo Love - Contemporary Romance
Briseis and Takumi ~ Genres & Tropes ~ Snippets ~ Characters ~ Worldbuilding ~ Playlist ~ Inspo Blog
Tag
Sugared Heat Series - Contemporary Romance
Amila and Cassian ~ Genres & Tropes ~ Snippets ~ Characters ~ Worldbuilding ~ Playlist ~ Inspo Blog
Tag
Released Rain (AC III Fanfiction)
Rain and Connor ~ Chapter List ~ Playlist
Tag
General WIPs List
Other Works
You can find out more about me here
Yes, I know I have a lot of series but I’m a fan of continuing the story so my stories tend to be on the longer side. With this blog I hope to continue to learn so that I can finally finish my books as well as share with others. I can’t wait to meet more of you writers but if any of you write romance, erotica or erotic romance I’d especially love to meet you and mutual follow!
Also, please consider buying a Ko-Fi so I can get my works in progress evolved into the novels they were meant to be.
Two days passed by before Toa dared to venture within the crowded heart of Asrail again. After getting dressed, she wrapped herself in a deep green cloak, the soft material drifting against her top and skirt. The morning light filtered pale and cold through a thin mist lingering around the village.
In the village, the streets were alive with the sounds of cattle, the rhythmic sounds of a blacksmith's hammer and the sweet aroma of bread baking fresh rising from the bakery nearby. Toa moved through the street quickly, her head bowed and her shoes scuffing on the damp cobblestones. Two days passed by before Toa dared to venture within the crowded heart of Asrail again. After getting dressed, she wrapped herself in a deep green cloak, the soft material drifting against her top and skirt. The morning light filtered pale and cold through a thin mist lingering around the village.
In the village, the streets were alive with the sounds of cattle, the rhythmic hammer of a blacksmith, and the sweet aroma of bread baking fresh, rising from the bakery nearby. Toa moved through the street quickly, her head bowed and her shoes scuffing on the damp cobblestones. Her senses were sharp; she could feel the prickling of watchful eyes on her back, and voices hushing along the wind as she passed by. The village felt altered ever since that night. The air was tight and expectant, pressing against her chest.
She blamed Nithya.
For making her a spectacle, for giving her that humiliation that still burned salt within a wound.
She blamed the sorceress for it all.
Toa knew curses weren’t real. Magic existed in the world, of course — spells for healing, or for harvest — but curses belonged to superstition. Old tales told by firelight to frighten small children with crackling flames and shadows. Toa refused to believe that she had been marked by nothing more than an unfortunate night.
Despite that, she decided to avoid men’s eyes. The memory of that night was still bitter-tasting on her tongue.
Craving quiet, Toa headed for the well located behind the bakery. She wanted the cool splash of water and the simple relief of a drink to soothe her parched throat, but more than anything, she wanted a moment to breathe without the weight of stares from her fellow Asrailians.
In the area, four men were already standing in a line, holding buckets of water. There was a shepherd in a wool cloak, a baker’s apprentice with cheeks dusted in flour, and two farmers. They all had familiar faces; neither one of them had ever shown more than a casual interest in Toa. They usually just gave her a nod or a polite word.
The moment that Toa stepped quietly into the clearing, all four men looked up at once. Their gazes locked onto her, but not with the warm spark of flirtation. It was a raw, glassy hunger in their gazes that made her skin crawl immediately.
Toa’s breath caught, sharp and cold in her lungs. However, she pushed herself forward, thinking that what she felt was just her imagination.
“Morning,” she muttered, her voice barely noticeable. No one replied. The silence around everyone stretched. It was thick and unnatural, broken by heavy breathing.
The shepherd then stepped closer, his boots scraping the ground. “Toa,” he said thickly, his voice strained like a pulled bowstring. “You look beautiful today.” Before she could respond, her head whipped to the right when someone else moved.
“Beautiful,” the baker’s apprentice echoed, flour more noticeable as he shifted.
The two farmers nodded in eerie agreement. Their eyes were unblinking, pupils wide in the morning light.
Cold dread slid down Toa’s spine like ice-cold water. It couldn't be.
“No,” she whispered, fear metallic on her tongue. “No, this is ridiculous.” She kept trying to tell herself to calm her mind, but the fear was gathering like pressure in her lungs.
She lifted her chin, having seen her limit. “Thank you, but enough. Go on with your day.”
The men didn’t move. Toa noticed their muscles tensed beneath rough clothing.
One of the farmers reached for her arm, fingers trembling yet insistent as if he just had to touch her in some way. His calluses were rough against her sleeve as he regarded her. “Look at me. Just look at me.”
Toa wrenched her arm out of his grasp as another man stepped closer. The sweat and soil scent on him was overwhelming. “Please, Toa. Let me talk to you.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” the shepherd said to her, his face tight with strain, veins standing out all around his neck.
Hot panic replaced the cold dread instantly.
“What is wrong with you all?” Toa demanded, her voice cracking as she backed away from them. Gravel shifted under her shoes.
The men followed, their steps heavy and unrelenting.
Extremely frightened by this turn of events, Toa whirled around and ran.
She sprinted within Asrail, first through narrow alleys that reeked of refuse and rain-soaked wood and then out into the main square. Villagers gaped at her antics. The men stumbled after her, their boots pounding while calling out her name. Their voices were twisted; they sounded holy and terrible at the same time. They were as fervent as prayer yet laced with desperation.
Toa finally ducked into a narrow street that seemed quite shadowed, pressing her back against the cold, rough stone of a building that scraped through her cloak. She clamped a hand over her mouth, letting out muffled, ragged breaths as footsteps thundered past her, frantic ones as male voices echoed her name into the mist.
Her legs gave out after their voices drifted away. Toa slid down the wall, collapsing onto the chilly ground that went through her clothing. Nithya’s words echoed mercilessly in her mind then, thundering louder than any pursuit.
Every man who looks upon you…
Every daughter born from your bloodline…
Devastated, Toa buried her face in her trembling hands, tears pouring hot and salty down her cheeks and onto her lips.
“No,” she whispered then into the silence. “No, no, no…”
It was a cold realization. Curses were real.
Toa realized that, and she realized that she had doomed more than herself. However, she did not yet understand how far the curse would reach, or how deeply it had already woven itself into her blood, pulsing through her entire being with every frantic beat of her heart.
The tavern glowed with heat and sound. Lamplight reflected off of polished wood, and laughter spilled freely as a fiddle carried a quick, looping tune. Gwion stood at the bar with practiced ease, one elbow resting against the counter as he spoke with a woman seated nearby. She was striking in a simple way: dark hair pinned loosely, eyes bright with curiosity and she laughed at something he said, tilting her head toward him as if the world beyond the bar had narrowed to their shared space. Gwion smiled easily, accepting the attention without effort, appearing every bit the charming royal enjoying an ordinary night among ordinary people.
Between one drink and the next, his thoughts drifted—brief and detached—to stone and iron far below the castle. To the chains that held her fast. To silence that answered no matter how long one waited. With a a deep satisfying sigh, he let the noise of the tavern wash over him, the woman’s laughter warm at his side, and felt a quiet certainty settle in his chest. She would never be found. The belief steadied him, unshakable as the walls beneath the castle, and Gwion turned back to the living world before him, convinced the darkness below would remain untouched while the night carried on above.
Hikaru noticed Aija pushing his side table out of the way as well as one of his chairs and he soon realized that she was trying to make way for her own furniture. This rubbed him the wrong way and he made his way over to her where she was putting down a vase full of hydrangeas. He pushed the back of his chair back to the corner that he had it in, not missing Aija pause from what she was doing to meet his gaze.
"What are you doing?"
"I could ask you the same thing. Why are you moving my chair from where it was?"
"So I can put my furniture down in the living room."
"Naruhodo. Is all of your furniture going to be in this house?"
Aija looked at Hikaru as if the answer should already have been known. "Of course." She replied, while drapping a blanket next over the couch. Her couch at that.
"Fascinating...and where is my furniture going to go?"
Aija gave a small wave of dismissal. "In storage, I guess." Hikaru was taken aback.
"Absolutely not." He said in the next minute.
She looked over her shoulder with her eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"
"You're not going to push my things aside as if it's junk, Aija. I'm going to be living here too, remember?"
"I...I know that." Aija's eyes looked side to side as she tried to figure out the reasoning of what he was saying to her. "If that's the case, where is my stuff going to go?"
"What about that storage that you want so badly to put my stuff? That might do." Hikaru answered, chuckling.
Aija huffed as she stared at Hikaru. "That's not funny. This is valuable stuff of mine! I want it here." She looked at her coffee table, her furry rug, her comfy pillows. How could he want her to part with it?
"That may be but why do you think that's not the case for me? I'm pretty fond of the things I have bought as well."
"Hikaru..."
Aija voice began to rise in pitch, almost as if she was about to whine. That was so uncharacteristic of Aija, that Hikaru decided to nip it in the butt before it started. "Look, Koi. My stuff's not going in storage, understand?"
"Well it's got to go somewhere. My stuff's not moving."
Hikaru couldn't believe how she was acting and his eyebrows widened. "Out of everything, you're going to be stubborn about this?"
"If it means you understand what's going to happen."
Hikaru scoffed, not wanting things to escalate more than they were. "No, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to get more things and by the time I get back, you better have a solution, Aija. Cause this situation..." He gestured to all of her furniture. "...is unacceptable."
Aija stared at him and Hikaru turned, grabbing his keys and leaving. Her chest heaved and she shook at the implication that he wanted her to get rid anything that belonged to her.
Night settled over Tydaria Castle. The everyday chatter that usually resonated within the structure was now reduced to whispers and slight echoes. Prince Gwion stood alone on the balcony of his chamber, staring out into the distance with focused green eyes. The wind gently blew back his hair. The city stretched out below him in three rings of lamplight and shadow. The nearby Crown Ring's regality flared strong and beyond it, the Hearth Ring and Field Ring spread out into the dark.
Gwion rested his hands on rail of the balcony. Despite the silence, activity never ceased in the castle. Somewhere, preparations were continuing for his brothers upcoming coronation. The thought of that made Gwion's mouth tighten. His brother was going to get everything.
Sol would stand before the council and the leaders of the four lands of Tydas. He was going to be named Tydian King before all of them.
A deep resentment gathered low in Gwion's belly and his fingers curled slightly against the stone rail.
"Enjoy it while you can, brother."
Before he could stew more, a familiar presence stirred in the back of his mind. Noxys spoke calmly.
"Gwion..."
Gwion exhaled through his nose. "Not again."
Noxys didn't rise to the irritation, his voice remaining steady. "This path will not give you what you seek."
Gwion's jaw clenched more. "And what do I seek?" He asked into the air.
"To be seen."
Gwion's body went still for half a breath as the creator's words struck too close to home. He glanced back over Tydaria . "I seek what is mine." He steeled himself as Noxys' presence grew heavier within him.
"What is yours does not require corruption to claim it," he said.
A quiet, bitter laugh left Gwion as he shook his head. "You speak as though patience has ever rewarded me."
"Patience is not the danger before you," Noxys commented with grave calm. Gwion's eyes narrowed as he continued, "Hunger is."
The prince gripped the rail hard. There's no way the nyctal creator could understand what was he was going through. The mistreatment that he was enduring. He scoffed looking to the left before commenting, "Then perhaps hunger is what makes a king."
Noxys sighed. He started to speak, "Gwion, turn from—" but the his voice cut off.
Gwion cocked his head at the pause. The silence that followed was wrong; it was too sudden, too deep. He stilled as the air around him seemed to thicken. A second voice then slipped into the dark spaces of his mind. It was deeper and rougher than Noxys's voice, almost growling. A strange metallic edge ran beneath it, as if something alive speaking through a form that it was never meant to wear.
"I know what you want. Power. It's within your grasp, Prince of Tydas." was what the voice said. Gwion released his fingers from their clenched grip. He didn't move, intrigued by what was said. The darker voice continued on, "Just keep patience."
The words settled over Gwion like a promise. But then he also realized that he had two voice now within his mind. One was ancient and warning. The other was dark and inticing. The young man should have been disturbed, should have questioned it. Not everybody heard voices in their head let alone two.
Instead, his expression eased as a slow, faint smile began to form.
"Patience," Gwion murmured, ruminating the word in another way. It tasted different now, less like denial and more like destiny.
Noxys remained silent but the second voice said nothing more. Gwion decided to accept it as another strange piece of his fortune.
The prince looked back over Tydaria, his chamber still dark behind him. The sleeping villagers were nowhere to be seen. He imagined them during the day bowing to him.
They were peacefully unaware and he wanted to keep it that way.
