strange & angelic

I'm Nik and I like to write to work through my feelings. I lead a spiritual healing business called Interconnecting Authentically. masterlist 

[sirenbehavior]

About Nik | Paid Services | Patreon | Youtube | Instagram

Fiction Masterlist

If you're looking for the stories then you found them. Don't be fooled all of my stories are love stories, I just like the play with the genre. Caution things may get a little... spicy.

Astrology Masterlist

I've been studying astrology for 10+ years, I am mostly self-taught but have taken Debra Silverman Astrology's course, where I was selected as a scholarship recipient through Level 3. I still try to learn new things every single day and sometimes I share my thoughts about them.

Tarot / Spirituality Masterlist

I believe in God, I pray in the name of Jesus. I also love astrology, believe in reincarnation, and feel like I can still contact my passed on loved ones. This is more stuff about that.

[sirenbehavior]

“The Witch & The Wolf”

Linda Marie always knew love would ruin her.

She had seen it in the tea leaves, in the flicker of candle wax, in the bones she cast beneath the full moon. Love, tangled in blood and fire, waiting to consume her whole.

Still, when she met Maxwell Jacob Friedman, she did not run.

She should have.

Because Max was not a man who loved softly.

And she was not a woman who could love and survive.

The first time she saw him, he was drenched in another man’s blood.

The dark alley stank of iron and death, the corpse at his feet still twitching. A flickering streetlamp barely illuminated his face, but Linda Marie saw everything—the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his brown curls stuck to his forehead, the gleam of something ravenous in his eyes.

And then those eyes landed on her.

She should have screamed. Should have run. Should have done something besides stand there, pulse roaring in her ears.

Instead, she tilted her head, studying him. “Messy work,” she said.

Max’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You always critique a man’s kills?”

She stepped closer, close enough to see the blood dripping from his fingers. “Only when they’re worth noticing.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken.

Then, he laughed. Low. Dark. A sound that curled around her spine and settled deep in her bones.

“Who the hell are you?”

She smirked. “Someone you don’t want to make an enemy of.”

Max wiped his hands on the dead man’s coat. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t make enemies of beautiful women.”

She should have walked away. Should have let him be someone else’s problem.

Instead, she extended a hand. “Linda Marie.”

He took it.

“Max.”

And just like that, she sealed her fate.

Their love was madness.

Max killed without remorse. She whispered spells that could shatter a man’s mind. He painted the world in red; she pulled the strings of fate to keep him alive.

It was a dance neither of them wanted to end.

But the world does not tolerate monsters in love.

The bounty came first—a sum large enough to make any assassin’s mouth water. Then came the hunters, men with silver bullets and holy blades, men who knew the weight of the lives Max had stolen.

Linda Marie had warned him.

“They’re coming,” she murmured, tracing the lines of his palm in the dim candlelight. “I saw it in the fire.”

Max exhaled slowly. “And what did the fire say would happen?”

She didn’t answer.

Because the fire had shown her his death.

And she would rather burn the world down than let fate take him from her.

The fight was brutal.

Blood spattered the walls of the abandoned warehouse, bodies crumpling like broken marionettes. Max moved like a demon unleashed—blade flashing, fists shattering bones, a feral snarl ripping from his throat as he tore through the men sent to kill him.

Linda Marie stood at his back, her dark hair whipping around her as she whispered incantations that made the air crackle with electricity. Shadows slithered from the corners, twisting into clawed hands that dragged screaming men into the void.

A bullet grazed her shoulder. She barely felt it.

Max gutted the shooter before the man had time to reload.

Then, silence.

Linda Marie turned, chest heaving, to find Max leaning against a blood-slicked wall, clutching his side.

“You’re hurt,” she said, rushing to him.

He smirked, teeth red. “You should see the other guys.”

She pressed her hands to his wound, magic surging from her fingertips. “I saw your death, Max. It was supposed to be tonight.”

His breath hitched, but he didn’t flinch. “Then why am I still here?”

Her voice wavered. “Because I changed fate.”

Max cupped her face with bloodstained fingers, his gaze searching hers. “I don’t deserve you.”

Linda Marie let out a shaky laugh. “You don’t. But I love you anyway.”

And as the bodies cooled around them, as the night swallowed their sins, they kissed—two monsters in love, defying destiny, rewriting the stars.

Together.

[sirenbehavior]

**The Haunting of Rosewood Estate**

The gates of Rosewood Estate loomed before Imani, rusted iron twisted into intricate, claw-like designs, as if the house itself had grown teeth. Beyond them, the mansion stood in the pale glow of the moon, its once-pristine stone walls now veined with ivy, its towering windows black and hollow, like a skull long abandoned by its soul. The air smelled thick with decay, damp wood, and something sweet, something *wrong*—a scent that reminded her of wilted roses left too long in stagnant water.

She hesitated. She should turn around, forget the stories, forget the pull she had felt since she first heard whispers of this place. And yet, she *couldn’t.* Something deeper than curiosity drew her forward, something heavier than intrigue. It felt like a hand against her back, urging her into the dark.

She stepped inside.

The moment her foot crossed the threshold, the air changed—charged with something ancient and unseen. The house exhaled a sigh through its creaking beams. The candlelight in the distant chandeliers flickered, as if acknowledging her arrival. The walls, layered with peeling wallpaper and old scars, bore silent witness to everything that had come before.

And then, she saw *him.*

He stood at the far end of the grand hall, near the ruined fireplace, his silhouette bathed in the dim glow of the dying embers. Elijah. His presence was impossibly real, though he belonged to no world Imani knew. His dark eyes—soft yet filled with the weight of centuries—locked onto hers, and for a moment, the house, the decay, the cold, *everything* ceased to exist.

"You shouldn’t be here," he murmured, his voice low, rich, and full of sorrow.

Imani swallowed hard. "I know."

And yet, she stayed.

###

Nights passed in secret conversations, in stolen moments beneath candlelit shadows. Imani found herself drawn to Elijah in a way she couldn’t explain—like a half-remembered dream, like a story she had once known but lost. His voice, his words, the way he watched her like she was something *impossible*—it unraveled something deep inside her, something she hadn’t even realized had been wound so tight.

He told her of the curse that bound him here, of the love that had damned him, of the ghosts that refused to let him go. And she told him of her own prison—the expectations, the loneliness, the feeling of being *alive* but never *living.*

They were two souls caught between worlds, tethered by longing and grief.

But Rosewood did not forgive love.

It did not care for stolen affections, nor for whispered confessions in the dead of night. The house—its walls steeped in tragedy, its very foundation laced with sorrow—*wanted him.* It had kept him for over a century, and it would *not* let him go.

At first, the warnings were subtle. A door slamming when no wind had stirred. Shadows stretching unnaturally across the walls. The sharp scent of something burning when there was no fire. But then, the house grew angry.

The night the walls began to *scream,* Imani knew they had run out of time.

The portraits of the long-dead wept blood, their hollow eyes fixed on her. The chandeliers swung violently, their glass teardrops shattering against the marble floor. And the whispers—*God,* the whispers—crawled up her spine, filling her head with things she could not unhear, promises of torment, of suffering, of loss so great it would consume her.

The house was giving her one final chance.

Leave.

Leave and *forget him.*

But Imani had never been the kind to turn away.

She reached for Elijah, and though his touch sent a cold shock through her skin, she *held on.*

"I won’t let them keep you," she whispered, her voice trembling.

A shudder ran through the house. The unseen force that bound him here *tightened*, as if it could sense what she was about to do.

And then she spoke the words that would break them both.

"I love you."

For a moment, there was silence.

Then the world *split open.*

The walls cracked, the house *wailed,* and Elijah—his form, so long caught between life and death—began to glow. He reached for her, but his touch was slipping, dissolving like mist between her fingers. His expression was one of agony, of longing, of *realization.*

He was *free.*

And she was losing him.

His name tore from her lips, but it was too late—he was unraveling, his body breaking apart in streams of golden light, ascending into a place she could never follow.

The wind howled through the mansion, carrying his voice to her in a whisper.

*"Thank you."*

And then, he was *gone.*

The house went still. The air settled. The curse had been lifted.

But Imani—standing in the wreckage, her hands trembling, her heart *hollow*—knew she had made a terrible mistake.

She had saved him.

And in doing so, she had damned herself to a life without him.

She turned to the door, stepping out into the cold light of morning. The sun rose over Rosewood, casting golden rays over the ruined estate, but it was nothing more than a cruel reminder that the world had kept turning.

The wind stirred, and for the briefest second, she swore she felt a touch against her cheek—light as breath, warm as memory.

A goodbye.

And then it was gone.

Just like him.

[mintchocolateships]

❣️🍒 i wish everyone that sees this a very sweet february 🍒❣️

[sirenbehavior]

If I must drown I will do it with brilliance.

This hurricane of a life it builds a resilience.

Through landslides of failure, and falling debris

The only thing always left standing is me.

Cutting wind burning all around me.

I am the sand snake in the the dust storm surrounding.

Burrowing down, burying under, bunkered

If life is the storm, then I am the thunder.

Chaos among chaos is all this life is

Never knowing if you’ll die or if you’ll live.

Shaking earthquaking echos of fear

Will tear apart families and leave cities cleared.

So if I must have dinner in a disaster.

So be it

Starving won’t make it pass faster.

[hayatheauthor]

100 Dialogue Tags You Can Use Instead of “Said”

For the writers struggling to rid themselves of the classic ‘said’. Some are repeated in different categories since they fit multiple ones (but those are counted once so it adds up to 100 new words). 

1. Neutral Tags 

Straightforward and unobtrusive dialogue tags: 

Added, Replied, Stated, Remarked, Responded, Observed, Acknowledged, Commented, Noted, Voiced, Expressed, Shared, Answered, Mentioned, Declared.

2. Questioning Tags 

Curious, interrogative dialogue tags:

Asked, Queried, Wondered, Probed, Inquired, Requested, Pondered, Demanded, Challenged, Interjected, Investigated, Countered, Snapped, Pleaded, Insisted.

3. Emotive Tags 

Emotional dialogue tags:

Exclaimed, Shouted, Sobbed, Whispered, Cried, Hissed, Gasped, Laughed, Screamed, Stammered, Wailed, Murmured, Snarled, Choked, Barked.

4. Descriptive Tags 

Insightful, tonal dialogue tags: 

Muttered, Mumbled, Yelled, Uttered, Roared, Bellowed, Drawled, Spoke, Shrieked, Boomed, Snapped, Groaned, Rasped, Purred, Croaked.

5. Action-Oriented Tags 

Movement-based dialogue tags: 

Announced, Admitted, Interrupted, Joked, Suggested, Offered, Explained, Repeated, Advised, Warned, Agreed, Confirmed, Ordered, Reassured, Stated.

6. Conflict Tags 

Argumentative, defiant dialogue tags:

Argued, Snapped, Retorted, Rebuked, Disputed, Objected, Contested, Barked, Protested, Countered, Growled, Scoffed, Sneered, Challenged, Huffed.

7. Agreement Tags 

Understanding, compliant dialogue tags: 

Agreed, Assented, Nodded, Confirmed, Replied, Conceded, Acknowledged, Accepted, Affirmed, Yielded, Supported, Echoed, Consented, Promised, Concurred.

8. Disagreement Tags 

Resistant, defiant dialogue tags: 

Denied, Disagreed, Refused, Argued, Contradicted, Insisted, Protested, Objected, Rejected, Declined, Countered, Challenged, Snubbed, Dismissed, Rebuked.

9. Confused Tags 

Hesitant, uncertain dialogue tags:

Stammered, Hesitated, Fumbled, Babbled, Mumbled, Faltered, Stumbled, Wondered, Pondered, Stuttered, Blurted, Doubted, Confessed, Vacillated.

10. Surprise Tags

Shock-inducing dialogue tags:

Gasped, Stunned, Exclaimed, Blurted, Wondered, Staggered, Marvelled, Breathed, Recoiled, Jumped, Yelped, Shrieked, Stammered.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

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[sirenbehavior]

How many times must I fall for you?

An imaginary death

With imaginary doom

When my imagination krept

Into the shadows of the tomb.

“What if I can’t do it?”

“What if it’s a a lie?”

“What if I can’t fix it all before I die?”

But what if things go right?

What if I can have a life?

What if I can be a good mother and a wife?

Sometimes, shit just goes bad.

That’s what we call life.

But, we don’t have to submerge ourselves in never ending night.

this time, I won’t submit to this dark catastrophe.

I’ll just hold on until tides change and life is good to me.

[sirenbehavior]

“Your desire will be for your husband and he will rule over your life”

God cursed both the husband and the wife.

It doesn’t break or bend,

Because this longing never ends.

And all I crave is you.

Are you out there longing too?

[sirenbehavior]

I wanna mar your lips with my blood stained lipstick

Then we’ll both finally look like the clowns we really are.

[sirenbehavior]

I love you, I love you, I love you!

I’ll scream it from imaginary rooftops in my head.

I’ll love you a fire that still burns when we’re dead.

I’ll love with an intensity, devour you in layers.

I’ll be the best wife to you, only in prayers.

My love is like a river, your soul would sing.

A love that makes gods from men, it seems.

But you won’t sit beside my lonely stream.

So I’ll only love you in my dreams.

[sirenbehavior]

I wish I could fucking hate you too

I wish my heart was stone and glue

If I could make myself anew.

I’d wash myself clean of you.

To make you feel my pain will do.

Lost to what is real or true.

I’d tattoo my name on you.

I’d push deep, leave stains on you.

I would sooner take your place,

Than I would forget your face.

Id carve your sins out with a knife

Reminding you with every slice,

“Wasn’t it nice to hold the power?

Wasn’t it cozy in the ivory tower?”

If I could, I would be you.

If I could, I’d hate you too.

[ilovenycee]

[sirenbehavior]

Though I long

Though I am filled with this aching emptiness.

I will survive and live again.

I will survive and love again.

[sirenbehavior]

Even in my most disgusting state. I am worthy.

[sirenbehavior]

Legacy

Please, remember me.

Though I’m lying in bed

Unknown and unloveable

All the words I’ve said

Unheard and unseen.

I beg for legacy

Please, remember me.

When the dust from my bones are long gone

May the blade of history etch who I was in stone.

I wasn’t thrown into consequence

Or born into fame

I’ll scratch and claw because of this

So someone will know my name.

I’ll leave a legacy.

You will remember me.

Don’t let me be forgotten.

[wetheurban]

It's going to get so much better.

[sirenbehavior]

What is this?

And why me?

I feel a loss

A sadness

A greif

Melancholy.