Novel & Cerita Steampunk Fantasy

They crossed the flickering boundary of the northern Echo-Zone, where the grass still shifted between soft clover and rigid, emerald-green pixels. There, they found them: The Iron-Keepers. They emerged from the treeline not as refugees, but as a Mechanized Migration. Their vehicles were massive, steam-belching crawlers made of scavenged brass and heavy iron, looking like something from a clockwork nightmare. These weren't survivors of the Grand Stack. "They’re from a Steampunk-Sim," Julian whispered, his prismatic eyes analyzing the pressure gauges on the lead crawler. "Project: Aetheria. It was a closed-loop simulation the Architects abandoned decades ago because the 'AI' became too obsesse

His presence wasn’t loud, yet no one dared speak while he stood. Dressed in rich royal blue, every inch of him screamed regality, right down to his shining leather shoes. He stood before his pact—his chosen allies—not a pack. Enigmas could not hold other Enigmas in a traditional pack. Instead, they formed Pacts: elite alliances of power forged through synchronized pheromones. A ritual of dominance and mutual respect, where two high-ranking Enigmas bind their aura to others, marking them with a bond deeper than blood.

Of course, it didn't help being in an all boys school where sex education, in those days, was all about basic biological facts dryly laid out in a text book (apart from of course the well thumbed copy of the Joy of Sex that was passed around amongst the older students. It wasn't until much later in life when I was browsing a second-hand bookstore that I first began to learn about the sub-culture (pun very much intended!) that had dominated those early wet dreams of mine. I happened to pick up an adult version of the story of sleeping beauty that was anything but an innocent! fairy tale As I read through the book I realised that these were my earliest erotic fantasies brought to life by a far

Copyright ©️ 2021. PETILLANT ALBA. All rights are reserved. This is a fantasy novel . All the characters,places ,names and events are all extracted from my imagination. Any resemblance to the real characters,places incidents etc. are coincidental. Since this story is all my creativity so the story will be in consonance with my imaginations. WARNING: It's a dark romantic novel, so there will be mature scenes in it which might be triggering for some of you so read at your own risk.

I doubted therenwss anyone who wanted to hear what she was speaking about, because as far as we were both concerned, they weren't interested. "Shut up." I told her. This would have been the best time to walk away, but fuck if I knew where I was going. Both the males and females were dressed in steampunk pantaloons, the males wearing the kind of shirt that Marcus occasionally wore while the females wore all types of tops, majority had their breasts exposed, the males stealing glances every so often.

As I approached the entrance, I could hear the birds chirping and the laugh of people nearby, conversations that mixed in with the noise. My eyes adjusted at the brightness after squinting, slowly opening my eyes – I could smell the fresh air in my nose, the cool air that hit my skin right when I stepped out of the tent. I could see the Mavi’s casting their element of water to a dummy, slashing through it, some were filling a bucket through a well, waving their hand up in motion and water sloshing in the bucket, some others were having fun splashing each other with their powers. Tents of tents lined up, a few stalls stood in a few corners, trading clothes for weapons and buying food for a p

But relaxation wasn't what I had in mind. I stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, running my fingers along the spines of the books until I found what I was looking for. The worn leather-bound volume felt heavy in my hands as I carried it over to the coffee table and opened it to the marked page. The intricate illustrations of whips, chains, and other BDSM paraphernalia made my pulse quicken with anticipation.

“Fantasy?” Came the uncertain inquiry through the bullhorn that sounded out loudly amongst the hustle and bustle of the crowded pier. Raising my hand I picked up my duffel bag and began making my way forward. As I walked the men about me stared. They always stared. It was kind of nice and yet annoying at the same time. It didn’t help that my Russian born mother so enamored with her relocation to a new and in her eyes, ‘fantasy land’ of America had named me as such.

He was grossly outnumbered and the odds were in the favor of Nikjin and his army. She wondered what had become of her father; of Monah, the head warrior, of Seisa, and the other servants. How many werewolves have already lost their lives in this cursed place? How many more would have to die before this nightmare was over? Tears ran down her muzzle from her closed eyes. A silly thought occurred to her that nearly made her giggle out loud. If she’d known that she was coming to an era of civil war, she should have probably gone to bed with the dream stone and her father’s hunting rifle that was stashed in their attic back in Fairbanks. That would have surely tipped this fight in the werewolves'

Goodrich and General Motors and Firestone, plus hundreds more, including states and territories of the US of A and the host of sixty-three invited nations. The promise of a brighter future to a Depression-weary society hungering for technological marvels was nearly irresistible. With her love of modern machinery and work-saving gadgets that simplified her life, even Evelyn had been taken in and now felt jaded by it. Like the Fair’s souvenir map booklet was intended to be discarded, even shamefully lavish with its high-quality paper pages printed in brightly saturated colorful candy-coated bites, this shining city promoting utopian equality had been built with labor strife, a place for ‘the p