Garroth Minecraft Diaries Novels & Stories

The morning light filters through the half-open curtains, warming my bare skin as I stretch lazily across the sheets. It has been exactly one week since that unforgettable night with Tara, and her scent still lingers faintly on my pillow. My body carries the faint remnants of her marks, now fading into soft yellowish traces, but the memory of her submission still makes my pulse quicken. I roll out of bed, slip on a loose tank top and black boy shorts, and decide today feels like the perfect day for something new.

Gotta love that ginger bro :) Thanks for reading!

This baffled me as I kept walking up the stairs. I was yet to see guards whom I always saw everyday damned day but now, where I needed them the most, they suddenly vanish. I seemed to have been walking for twenty minutes when I soon stopped before a wide mahogany door which also had two guards standing by each side. Not only that, but I needed not to ask if Mr. Red eye was there because I could feel his presence. Call me stupid! “Good morning, is Mr….err, Is your boss in?” I asked one of the guards, who appeared as if he was dead. I was yet to get used to the unique appearances of everyone I saw in this castle. I mean, they all looked like 'the walking dead!'.

UNKNOWN POV DEAR DIARY, She grows beautiful each and every passing day. It was just yesterday she was a child, and now she has tits and curves in all the right places. I stare at her through this broken mirror, I see her every step, her every move… I feel pain when she’s happy, and I relish in the joy her sadness brings me. She is mine, Diary. Mineee! Oh, it won’t be long now…

"No. I was looking at all the jewellery. Didn't know you had a stash like that." "It's not a stash. I just like nice things, and with nice things comes complicated codes." Russell wrapped his arms around me, then kissed my neck. "Got to protect your valuables." He said after. Yes, I'm glad that your stupid friends didn't know about this little secret space. And I'm glad that the code changes every day, and was sent to my phone, which was only accessible by my thumb print. So if your friends just happens to come here without my permission, they can't get in and if they get in my phone will get an alert that they had opened the door and would automatically lock if I don't confirm it.

I cried, the sound torn from my throat. "That’s it," Garry grunted, picking up speed. "Take it. Take my cock like a good little femboy." His hips snapped against me, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the alley. Each thrust sent sparks through my body, my prostate lighting up like a live wire. "Harder," I begged, my voice breaking. "Fuck me harder." Garry obliged, his grip on my hips bruising as he pounded into me, his balls slapping against my ass with every brutal stroke. "You like that?" he snarled. "Like getting your tight little ass wrecked?"

Except this time, it was Ann, Adam and Bartholomew that stood solemnly in the hallway, waiting for their friends to appear. Lord Brarthroroz sauntered casually through the doorway into the hall and grinned broadly at them as he approached. "Seems like a nice morning for a quick jaunt into the woods and destroying some souls." He quipped as he dug through his pockets, seemingly looking for something. "It's nice to see you haven't lost your sense of humor even in dire circumstances such as these." Bartholomew chuckled as Lord Brarthroroz produced a large chunk of a midnight blue rock from inside his jacket pocket with an almost triumphant smirk on his face.

Just the dry rustle of coconut trees. "Knock! Knock!" I knocked at the mahogany wood door. A shutter creaked on the upper window. A moment later, the front door—heavy mahogany with three different locks—swung open just a few inches. A man stood there. He looked older than the photos in the NUAT archives. His hair was a chaotic crown of grey wool, and his skin was the color of parched tobacco. But it was his eyes that stopped Becca cold. They weren't the eyes of a scholar; they were the desperate eyes of a man who had been expecting death for sixteen years.

Behind his throne is the entrance to Azgaroth's territory. "Grant me access to behind your throne, Grothok," I said through gritted teeth as I swallowed the growing pain inside of me. I managed to rise back to my feet, lifting my gaze from the skull filled ground of the coven to meet his red eyes that were prominent despite the long distance between us. "Grant me that access now or just like the others, your death will only be an addition." I said with conviction laced in my tone.

Chapter 335: The Architecture of After The rain returned on the morning of the third day, but it had lost its frantic, washing quality. It was now a steady, rhythmic pulse that seemed to synchronize with the city’s own internal cadence. Sophia stood in the doorway of the Archive, watching the water cascade from the rusted gutters of the old library. The "Inventory of Echoes" had grown overnight. Boxes of salvaged memories sat on the floor, waiting to be cataloged. But today, the atmosphere had shifted. It wasn't about the past anymore; it was about the transition. People were bringing in items that bridged the gap—solar-powered lanterns modified with hand-crank backups, hand-drawn maps of th