Riddles Stories Novels & Stories

A HARGAN FOLK STORY There was once a girl who was wiser than the King and all his councilors; there never was anything like it. Her father was so proud of her that he boasted about her cleverness at home and abroad. He could not keep his tongue still about it. One day he was boasting to one of his neighbors, and he said, “The girl is so clever that not even the King himself could ask her a question she couldn't answer, or read her a riddle she couldn't unravel.”

"It's because they're secretly the world's philosophers, contemplating the mysteries of the universe between their many naps." His playful tales continued, each more fantastical than the last. He spun stories of talking squirrels who held clandestine debates in the treetops, of clouds that stored the blueprints for the world's oddest inventions, and even of a legendary potato that could grant wishes, but only if you spoke to it in rhymes. With each nonsensical story, my anxiety further receded, replaced by a sense of wonder and amusement. Sebastian's unwavering presence, his tender embrace, and his fanciful storytelling formed a sanctuary in the heart of the forest.

This is a tale of deceitful Rivalry . . . This is a tale of magnificent Love . . . This is a tale of great Betrayal . . . This is a tale of unbearable Sorrow . . . This is a tale of dangerous Oath . . . And this is the tale of the lost Raja who’s ruthless and a fearless man. In the quest to attain power, he has to lose something precious he had. Can he kill the human in him to get what he wants?

There was one solitary, big book on a low table between them. "The title of the tale is The Binding of Autumn," he began, his voice an entrancing whisper just in harmony with the shriek of the fire. “It's the tale of a harvest god who offers a mortal woman a choice: one night of absolute freedom for one year of unimaginable riches for her people." He didn't move as his eyes met hers. "The consent is the matter at hand. It must be freely bestowed, not coerced, and whispered three times into the skin of his throat." “Do you have any idea what sort of story you're going to be reading me tonight?”

A hawk and a bunny; that sounds like a bad joke. "Thank you. Is there any news from Lindy?" I can't take my eyes off Shane. I like that name. Please don't leave me, Shane. I need you. I need to feel something other than the fear of being alone. "She and Dayan are almost here. She said he's her mate, and he's a lion. I guess they ran into some trouble at the storage unit. Lindy said she'll explain when she gets here." Wow, four of us are mated to misfits. I wonder if there are any more mates here. I hear the sound of approaching bikes and sigh in relief. Lindy and I graduated from nursing school together, so we're pretty close. I can't wait to tell her I met my mate too.

“Says the Alpha who gave his Luna oral sex in dream land.” “That would actually a very interesting story plot.” “Exactly why we should be doing more adventurous things while fucking…to spice up our lives and make good story plots.” “Hmm.” “Yeah, you mentioned one time that Everlery likes writing…she can write erotica stories with what we do and who knows? We might be the inspiration to a bestseller book.”

“You don’t want Maya to hear her precious best friend getting finger-fucked by her big sister, do you?” I shook my head frantically, moaning into her palm as she started pumping her fingers in and out of my tight pussy. She curled them perfectly, hitting that sensitive spot inside me with every stroke. The wet, obscene sounds of her fingers plunging into my soaked cunt were barely covered by the music from the party. “Look at you,” Lena growled, fucking me harder. “Taking my fingers like a greedy little slut right here on the rooftop. Anyone could walk around this corner and see me ruining your tight cunt.”

"There's this story I heard when I was young. I don't remember much but I think that you'll like it." "Let's hear it," I said. "It's a story that's been past down since ancient times. Are you really ready to bear it's weight?" "We are more than ready," Lora said and Ana shrugged, as if washing her hands off whatever consequences that would come afterwards. "Once upon a time, there was a girl named Little Red Riding Hood. One day, she stumbled into the forest and got lost. She began to look for shelter and soon found a house and got in. She then found three bowls of porridge on the table. The first bowl of porridge was too hot-"

Marinetta's scroll read: "I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have nobody, but I come alive with the wind. What am I?" She pondered the riddle, her mind racing. After a moment, she smiled. "An echo," she whispered, and the scroll glowed brightly, the words rearranging to form a key. Harley's scroll presented a different challenge: "I can be cracked, made, told, and played. What am I?" He furrowed his brow, thinking deeply. "A joke," he said confidently, and the scroll responded in kind, forming another key. Seraphina's scroll was the most complex: "I am not alive, but I grow. I do not have lungs, but I need air. I do not have a mouth, but water kills me. What am I?"

The air in the library was thick with the scent of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Sadile Marconi, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of flames, sat at a secluded table, her green eyes darting between the pages of her textbook and the clock on the wall. The numbers seemed to mock her, ticking away the minutes until her next class, a class she was dangerously close to failing.