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Another Word For Claw

Blood Moon: A Tale Of Claws And Fangs

Centuries after the infamous Blood Wars, an uneasy ‘peace’ has emerged between werewolves and vampires, yet the air crackles with underlying tension, hinting at the volatile nature of their coexistence. This fragile peace rests on the sacrifices of innocent werewolves, as the werewolf council has been compelled to provide blood slaves to the vampire houses every year. As the cycle continues, one name rises to the surface, Camren Moon. Enter Camren Moon, a wolfless outcast within his pack, adopted and ostracized. Little does he know, his life is poised for a dramatic shift. Through a chilling twist of fate he is thrust into the role of a blood slave by his alpha, destined for the infamous House Bloodthorne. This house, notorious for its ruthless reputation and the formidable presence of Silvan Bloodthorne, casts a long shadow; his name inspires dread even among his own kind. Silvan is the fabled King of Death, shaped by blood and darkness, a vampire whose legacy is built on spilled blood and treacherous deals. Having risen from unimaginable depths, he now reigns supreme over the mightiest house, commanding respect and fear in equal measure. As Camren enters this new, harrowing chapter, he realizes he has been sentenced to death; no blood slave has ever survived Bloodthorne. Silvan Bloodthorne, the King of Death, is a figure of blood and darkness, whose ascent from the abyss to the pinnacle of power is steeped in treachery and violence. As Camren grapples with the death sentence that comes with his servitude, a flicker of rebellion ignites within him. He refuses to submit to fate—he will either claim his freedom or perish trying. Yet as Camren attracts Silvan’s twisted obsession, he crafts a daring plan to seduce the very essence of death. But forging a bond with the devil can unleash unimaginable consequences. An intoxicating and forbidden chemistry simmers between them, blurring the line between sanity and hysteria. Is he falling for the dark ruler of House Bloodthorne, or is this attraction merely a façade? As ancient bloodlines stir within him, Camren finds himself unwittingly caught in a treacherous game of chess—a game where trust is a currency, and even those closest to him may harbor betrayal. He stands on the precipice of a world filled with dark schemes, ancient prophecies, vengeful vampires, feral wolves, cunning witches, and calculating humans. As the intricate web unfolds, can Camren survive the impending chaos? Will his relationship with Silvan be the dawn of a new era or the catalyst for destruction? And can he unearth the hidden powers within himself before they lead to ruin? Welcome to my first fantasy story! I've always harbored a love for this genre, and now I’m excited to share my own journey through it. I eagerly anticipate your thoughts, and constructive criticism is always appreciated. If you spot any errors, I’d be grateful for your help in correcting them. Please note: The story features straight couples alongside the main LGBTQ+ pairing, so be sure to check the tags for more information. To any future critics, while respectful feedback is welcomed, I won’t tolerate baseless hate against my characters or story. I have a spirited defense ready, so consider this a fair wwarning Thank you for stopping by! I hope you'll give this book a chance, and if you enjoy it, I’d love your support through comments, votes, and gifts as we embark on this thrilling adventure together.
Bianca_Moon · 2.3K Views

Another Doomsday: Moving for Peace, Waking Up Pregnant in Apocalypse

They say life’s full of plot twists—well, Bai Xiaotong’s life is more like a plot pretzel, twisted in all the wrong places. After centuries of fighting in dungeons that suddenly descended into the Murim World, she thought she'd earned a peaceful retirement after moving to another planet. Yet, after buying a dimensional ticket to cross realms, she ends up face-to-face with an even bigger disaster. Goodbye, dungeon gates and loot drop. Welcome to a world crawling with walking deads! Where each bite turns the living into rotting husks of undead. "I bought a wayfarer item to peacefully retire in another human world, not to clean up another horde of monsters! Do I look so bored to change places just to go hunting?! I didn’t sign up for this mess—” she grumbles, dodging a zombie horde. Why does it feel like she was attracting every apocalypse in the multiverse? Where’s the peaceful world she paid millions of cosmic credits for? Wait, did she pay for a doomsday subscription instead and was auto-renewing?! Damn. How could she end up in a dumpster fire, filled with weak humans who can’t even handle brain-dead corpses in a trance? “Seriously, how does anyone lose to that?” But in reality, it’s not the monsters and weak humans that are giving her gray hairs—it’s the fact that... “AHH! Why does my stomach keep on growing? Darn, it hurts, I think it’s going to explode!” “Ow shi— did I peed myself?” No. Wait, what the hell? Someone tell her, it wasn’t her water! The apocalypse? She can handle that. But childbirth during an apocalypse? That's a whole different level of nightmare. “Hey, you can’t come out yet!” This is insane. At least wait until she figures out where’s the father, ah! --- WSA2025 Entry
Azhe_ · 4.8K Views

For Me, For Us, For Everyone

Cigarette smoke curls in the stagnant air, the dim glow of a dying bulb casting twisted shadows against the walls littered with half-torn articles and red-thread connections. Somewhere between the ink-stained papers and the scattered pills, a man sits—silent, unmoving, staring blankly at a stuffed monkey in a clown suit. A detective, they call him. A man of justice, a solver of mysteries. But behind the applause and empty praises, behind the sharp smiles and hollow congratulations, he is nothing but a walking contradiction—one hand holding a case file, the other exchanging cash for little plastic sachets. His mind is a labyrinth of voices, whispers that coil around his thoughts like suffocating vines. His brother grins at him from the corners of his vision, eyes glinting with the truth he refuses to face. His father’s voice is gentle, forgiving—too forgiving. Too much for a man who doesn’t deserve it. Each pill swallowed is another step into the illusion, another moment of stolen happiness before the weight of reality drags him under. He walks the city streets, drowning in faces that admire him, loathe him, see him as something he is not. He is both a hero and a villain, a detective and a criminal, a man trying to outrun the past while shackled to its corpse. And at the end of the night, when the echoes of the world fall away, all that remains is the darkness, the whispers, and the suffocating truth—he can never escape them.
Zeisn · 0 Views
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