The Book That Wouldn't Burn Fanart Novels & Stories

Yam sliced it open slowly, hands trembling. Inside was their book. “The Art of Staying.” Cover: a sunflower. A crooked shelf. Two mugs—one chipped. And behind it all, the suggestion of a fan, mid-spin. Franc stared at it like it might whisper back. “Feels unreal,” Yam said. Franc flipped through pages. Some with artwork. Others with Yam’s poetry. Their story—wired beginnings and all—now bound in matte finish. “I think this book breathes,” Franc said.

I held that nozzle down and kept the flame there and didn’t stop until I’d coated him head to toe with flames that looked like the purest, cleanest things I’d ever seen. The man in yellow, painted in vibrant shades of red and orange, stood there and burned. No screams of rage or pain, no thrashing or wailing. He just stood there, on that stage, burning. When the flames touched that book, it exploded. No shit. It leaped into flame and exploded. For a moment its flames looked bright green, as if something foul and poisonous was burning.

“We both know you wouldn’t dare.” “Try me,” she whispered with a wicked smile, then kissed him hard. Their bodies moved with practiced rhythm. This wasn’t love,it was lust, greed, and power games all wrapped into one heated exchange. Clothes flew off. Moans filled the room. And when it was over, they lay there breathless, not from emotion, but from the thrill of getting everything they wanted without consequences. Tamara lit a cigarette, took a drag, and handed it to Rumero. “So what’s next?”

They didn't really care who won or lost, as they were all hoping to personally witness the fabled Bryant family curse, or at least see the hideous monster that would come about if the curse wasn't lifted. … I trailed my hand slowly down William's abdominal muscles, but the sudden heat and magnitude took me aback, causing me to let out a surprised cry. "Didn't they say you're incapable in that regard, William?" William gently rested his chin on my shoulder. His tone conveyed a bit of feigned indignation while saying, "You ought to know that rumors are not to be trusted, darling. I'll use my body to prove it to you." I could feel his body burning up, and his profound blue eyes were fixed solel

Jenny sat by way of the massive window in her room, watching the locked gates of the mansion. The golden lights of the chandelier reflected off the polished marble ground, making the vicinity feel even greater like a palace. But no matter how beautiful it was, it turned into nonetheless a prison. She had back, however not with the aid of desire. Noah had compelled her to return to his global, using her fear in opposition to her. She wrapped her palms around herself, feeling the load of the entirety crushing her. Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry. Crying could not change anything. She needed to suppose. She wished a way out.

“No! This seems to be the reason for all of this bloodshed and carnage. Why did you kill all of those people on the bus huh? Who are all these people after you and why do they want the book? Speak now or I’ll set this thing ablaze,” I was not just threatening to set the book on fire but I had already made up my mind to do so. I could feel the raw power and magic around it . I couldn’t tell just how much of a dangerous artifact it was and that meant I had to get rid of it for good. No one deserves to wield such great power, especially not monsters.

"H-how? I remember perfectly well when you were swimming in the burning flames of the poisonous fire." Amethyst muttered under her breath, still analysing the black covers of the big, bold book that she knew she burnt a few months ago. Her hands trembled at its heaviness — at how fresh and old it smelled. Old tales and unknown prophecies were still lingering on every page she turned over.

"Scarlett." Kieran suddenly interrupted her, but his gaze remained fixed on my face. "What auction items?" Before I could answer, Scarlett suddenly gasped and pulled out the last page of the catalog. "My God, you're selling 'Embers'? Isn't that the painting you worked on for three years?" She suddenly covered her mouth, glancing sideways at Kieran. This was the centerpiece of my flame series, created with his quitting smoking as inspiration. Every scorch mark on the canvas was secretly burned in while I watched him extinguish cigarettes in his study.

"If you burn this, your story with me... it never reaches a conclusion. We'll be in this 'Volatile Middle' forever. The tension, the fighting, the hunger... it never settles into peace." Elara looked into his grey eyes. She saw the demon who had branded her, the man who had died for her, and the partner who was now standing in the Zero-Point with her. "Peace is just another word for 'Paid in Full', Vane," Elara said. "And I’m not interested in being settled." She touched the flame to the corner of the book. The leather didn't burn with orange fire. It erupted in a geyser of white light and rainbow colored ink. The pages turned into birds made of words, flying out of the vault, through the co