Fantasy Ink Novels & Stories

"I am Dr. Maya Benson. I am a woman, not a word in a book." But the words did not care the laptop typed. The words wanted a lead character. The Ink Storm Suddenly the floor beneath Maya tilted to one side. A giant black line of ink slashed through the center of the living room. It split the apartment in half. It looked like a canyon filled with shadows. From the depths of that line a figure began to climb out. It was a woman. She looked like Maya but her hair was made of flowing black ink. Her eyes were two nibs of a pen.

Every moment they'd shared, every word they'd spoken, every touch that had passed between them, all of it would have to go. I reached for a vial of ink made from ash of burnt love letters. The liquid was black as midnight and warm to the touch, as if it held the heat of all the passion it had once recorded. When I dipped my quill into it, the ink seemed to writhe like a living thing. The first symbol I drew on the parchment began to smoke immediately. The paper hissed as if in pain, tiny flames licking at the edges of each line. This was old magic, dangerous magic, the kind that demanded a sacrifice for every word.

“I do love surprises.” Erin felt a shiver run down her spine and the eerie sound of the enemy’s voice. Everyone immediately became alert, ready to faceoff with Nikjin’s beasts when they finally showed up. “I love to make grand entrances,” Nikjin continued. “And I hate to be predictable.” “Oh, trust me, Uncle. You are predictable,” said Danshak. “Always hiding in the shadows and letting your army of wild beasts do the hard work for you.” Nikjin cackled maniacally in the dark cave. “Is that taunt of yours supposed to make me come running to you to prove you wrong?”

I retort. He lets out a huff, glaring at me before gesturing towards himself. "Take off your shirt, and we'll settle it." I pop my gum, relishing a good challenge. Swiftly, I remove my V-neck, casting it onto the nearby mattress. His gaze sweeps over the black ink that envelops my chest, ribs, and abs. Nearly every inch of my fair skin showcases a mosaic of vivid skulls, crossbones, swords, tumultuous waves, and sailing vessels. The grayscale pirate imagery intertwines with vibrant sparrows and swallows. His eyes continue their descent, tracing the ink until they reach the hem of my black pants.

They also have purple blood. Kilin class are smart cunning creatures that have both scales and fur of brown. They are able to mask their scent and almost complete disappear from the eye. They appear almost invisible except for a small blur of lights that surrounds the hair areas of their body. There are hard to find and even harder to kill, they have purple blood that if not washed off can burn and slowly eat away at skin. Coatyl class are small furry creatures that eat st the remains of the bigger classes, so far they remain harmless. They have beautiful white, brown or grey fur that is very sought after in the cities. Their blood runs blue.

"I feel like I'm living in a fantasy." Braden closed the gap between our lips and kissed me deeply. His hand going behind my head gripping hair slightly pressing my lips harder against his. He pulled away slightly, causing me to whimper because he stopped. "Tonight, I'm taking your innocence and making you mine." Braden growled. I nodded in response. Braden closed the gap again and kissed me softly this time. "Come on, let's get out of here and go pay Allie and Miranda a visit." I nodded, as Braden took a step away from me. He smirked. "Afraid to look down ain't you darling." He said teasingly.

Story Name: RED INK Genre: Romance and action Episode 1 (The beast within) The tall, dark and masculine man assessed the newly bought dagger in his hand, feeling the blunt edge with the tip of his index finger, his enigmatic eyes void of all emotions but one, 'Sai will love this. I have to give it to her. No one else's.' With that one thought in mind, he placed the dagger back in its belt, tucked it in his pocket and walked into the just drizzling rain.

The Innkeeper, frozen in a silent exclamation, seemed to fade from my vision. It was as if I was no longer in the dusty office, but suspended in a void, surrounded by swirling mists of light and shadow. Then, images began to coalesce within the glow of the parchment. They weren't static pictures, but fleeting, vibrant snippets, like dreams playing out in rapid succession. I saw flashes of familiar faces, though some were older, etched with lines of experience I hadn't seen before. There was Fenrik, his golden eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, but also a weariness that hadn't been present moments ago.

he orders, and then the tip drags across my skin, the pressure just shy of painful. The ink smells bitter, stinging slightly as he presses harder, etching something permanent onto me. I whimper, my fingers digging into the tile behind me, but I don’t pull away. I can’t. Not when the way his eyes darken as he works sends a fresh wave of heat pooling between my legs.

“This sounds like something I want to hear about. C'mon, spill.” “Well, it could happen,” Julia said. “I told you that stuff in the astral plane can affect the real world sometimes.” “This was in the dream world, not the astral.” Julia shrugged, an ineffectual action over the phone. “Shit happens,” she said. “You have unusual talent, be careful with it. I'd imagine if you can create the marks on her body, you can also fix them in the dream and she won't have them when she wakes up.”