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Desire Novel

Unwritten Desires

“Ugh…enough with the threats, sourpuss.” I huffed. He wasn’t the only one that was good at giving people funny nicknames. “And in case you don’t know…having to be in a fake relationship with you is already making life a living hell for me.” I dropped my voice to a small whisper just in case anyone was eavesdropping. We were in an open place after all. “Speaking of our relationship, I’m not sure if you know who Naomi is but she’s already suspecting that something’s off so you better do something about it. If you would have listened to me when I told you how ridiculous this idea was then maybe we wouldn’t have to be dealing with all of this.” My eyes drooped. “What are you talking about?” His brows dipped as he took a step back. Oh wow, he couldn’t even understand a few words. Who would’ve thought that he’d be so dumb? “Naomi thinks it’s unusual for us to be in a relationship.” I drawled with air quotes. “You better do something about it if you don’t want people to doubt you.” I said sizing him up and I was just leaving when I had barely even taken a few steps and something yanked me back. My back hit the wall, and before I could even process what just happened, a warm hand landed on my waist, fingers pressing just enough to make my breath hitch. My eyes snapped up…only to find Liam’s face hovering way too close to mine, his blue eyes sharp and calculating. “What…” My voice came out weak. Embarrassingly weak. “Where do you think you’re going, four eyes?” His voice was low, his breath tickling my cheek. My stomach flipped and I swallowed hard. “Liam, what the hell are you doing?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in…his lips nearly grazing my ear. Panic surged through me. He was too close. Way too close. “Didn’t you just say I should do something about this girl’s suspicions?” he murmured, his voice dropping into something almost dangerous. I blinked, confused. “What?” He ignored me completely, his fingers tightening slightly against my waist. “And what better way is there to clear someone’s doubt than not giving them room for it?” My heart stuttered and I suddenly became hyper aware of the way we looked…his body caging me in, my hands pressed flat against the wall, his head dipped low, his mouth close enough that if I moved even an inch… Oh, crap. ~~~~~~ Eleanor is a 23-year old woman who was involved in a car accident on her way to her interview. Unfortunately she doesn't make it and assumes she's going to find herself in the afterlife but instead finds herself in the body of a college student named Theodora. And this college student happens to be a side character in one of the books she read in her past life. Having found herself in this body, she decides to find out why she's there and try to return to her old world. On her quest for answers she realizes she has to play her part as Theodora in this world which however lands her in a lot of problems.
LunaPixie08 · 50K Views

SCULPTURED DESIRE

Living as the fifth daughter of a noble family, Amira found herself adrift in the fog of her home, neglected and overlooked by those she once called her own. Her days were spent in the solitude of the attic, a hidden oasis away from the bustling world outside. However, when the tumult of war erupts and she is thrust into the role of a truce offering between two formidable nations, she grapples with the uncertainty of surviving in a new kingdom known for its icy demeanor and ruthless nature. Will she navigate this foreign terrain and carve out a new existence she never fathomed? (Excerpt) "Clean it," Zyran commanded. "Yes, your Highness," the servant acknowledged with a respectful bow, ready to fetch the cleaning supplies. "Not you," Zyran interjected, causing the servant to freeze in confusion. "Her," he added, nodding in the direction of Anastasia, whose eyes widened in disbelief. Anastasia blinked rapidly, trying to process the situation. "Pardon?" she asked. "Clean the mess on the floor," Zyran instructed. The crowd started murmuring and Anastasia shifted uncomfortably on her knees. "That's the servant's job, not mine. Why should I? I don't think I understand what you are trying to say Prince Zyran. My father will never approve of this," Anastasia began only to be abruptly cut off by Zyran. "Don't make me repeat myself. I'm sure you wouldn't like it if I interfered with your task," Zyran warned. Anastasia's lips trembled as she fought to hold back her words. She knew Zyran's reputation for being ruthless, and she didn't want to make her situation any worse than it already was. "Get me the cleaning supplies," she instructed the servant, who was prepared to follow her command until Zyran interjected. "No one will help you," he declared. Anastasia's chest heaved with anger as she locked eyes with Amira, who was standing behind Zyran. She rose to her knees, intending to fetch the cleaning supplies herself, but Zyran stopped her once again. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded. "To bring the bucket," she replied with a hint of annoyance, but she quickly reminded herself to remain composed. "I never asked you to stand up," Zyran stated. "Then how am I supposed to clean the floor?" she inquired. "Use your dress," Zyran replied. The onlookers in the crowd were visibly shocked, exchanging bewildered glances and murmurs as they witnessed the unfolding scene. Anastasia's cheeks turned crimson with embarrassment.
Cassie_Berry_9014 · 102.2K Views

The Transcendence Desire

The world had already ended once. Its death wasn’t marked by fire or flood, but by silence—the silence of gods who no longer answered, of rituals long forgotten, and of humanity's slow drift from the spiritual truth that once bound all things. In that twilight, a shaman reached the edge of life and death, offering his soul in a final, desperate rite. He expected oblivion. Instead, he opened his eyes to the past. Reborn with all the knowledge of his former life, the shaman returns to a time before everything collapsed—before the spirits withdrew, before the sacred paths were defiled, before he himself was broken. But this time, he has no illusions. He does not seek fame, vengeance, or companionship. His only desire is transcendence—to climb beyond the limits of life and spirit, and to become one with the divine itself. The path he walks is not one of swords, systems, or schools. It is not a road blessed by the heavens. It is older, more primal—a forgotten trail carved in blood, bone, and breath. Shamanism is a pact with things the world pretends not to see. The rites he performs are not flashy; they are precise, disturbing, and irreversible. He calls spirits into fetishes made of teeth. He binds vengeful ghosts into tattoos that whisper in the night. He burns pieces of his soul for glimpses into the veil. He wields no blade, yet death walks with him. His power is not given—it is taken, through sacrifice, through pain, and through terrifying understanding of how the world truly works. People call him mad. Some call him a prophet. But no one understands him. He speaks in riddles, walks with ancient things, and watches the world as if he’s already beyond it. He is cold, but not cruel. Detached, but not aimless. Every action, every word, every silence serves a ritual purpose: the next step toward his goal. But as his power grows, so too does the weight of his existence. The rituals he weaves change more than just himself—they fracture the world around him. Those who cross paths with the shaman are never the same. Some are blessed. Most are cursed. A few understand. All are affected. This is not a story of becoming a hero. This is not the tale of a man fighting fate. This is a slow, meditative descent or ascent into something far beyond mortality. The shaman does not seek to win. He seeks to transcend. ------------------- A/N:- 3 Chapters/Day Thank You For Reading My Novel Guy's! Make Sure To Drop Some PS and GTs....It Helps A Lot. Extra Chapters Will Be Added For PS,GTs and Gifts.
LIGHT1773ge · 12K Views
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