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Verne Speech Pulp

Alpha, Say My Name

He was the feral Alpha King buried beneath the mountain. She was the cursed girl they offered to him as sacrifice to end the famine plaguing their lands. Ruvan, the first Alpha. Imprisoned, driven to utter madness, and starved of power. Solenne, the packless she-wolf rumored to be cursed and bring misfortune to all who cross paths with her. With the power of cursed speech, she is able to kill and bend the world to her will with only one word. To avoid hurting others, she hasn't spoken a single syllable since she was a child. Feared and rejected by her own people, she is given to the mountain in a forbidden ritual-sacrifice... and her scent stirs the beast that slumbers beneath it. His mate. Ruvan will stop at nothing to claim what's his, even if that means storming the heavens and finding the cure to her curse just to hear her speak his name. ---- She saw stars behind her eyes and felt constellations carved into her skin with every lingering touch and each press of his mouth. He painted the night sky onto her body, not with a brush, but with his lips, hands, and his insatiable hunger—until her lungs were empty and her heart soared so high it must’ve kissed the moon. “Solenne,” Ruvan murmured, voice low and reverent, like a prayer. She shivered; the sound of her name on his lips felt like heaven. Ruvan pressed his palm to her stomach, anchoring her as he leaned in, mouth brushing the hollow of her throat. His hand rose, slow and shaking, tracing the shape of her jaw like it was a sight made only for him. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth and his eyes burned as he studied her. “You feel like the stars,” he whispered, “Mesmerizing and bright... something that I want to capture and keep to myself." And then he kissed her; it was a deep, aching vow he couldn’t speak aloud. A promise made only in breath, heat, and need. When they parted, he gently pressed his forehead against hers. His voice dipped lower… uncertain, maybe even afraid: “Say my name?” -- R18, werewolves, fated love, weak to strong... I hope you enjoy my second entry for 2025 WSA. :) give it a shot~
carmyko · 44.6K Views

Elves Are Sleeping Beauties

I like text-to-speech so I'm giving a shot at present tense second person writing to lean into a listener's POV. Enjoy! I use Sonia en-GB for the narrator at 1.2 or 1.5 times speed. Might want to read this part, I kind of left it out the story by making it the synopsis by accident lol. Tavern doors never close on the festive dockside. Traders, settlers, wanderers, and outlaws gather, drawn by the excitement of the New World. The air smells of smoke, salt and sweat, sails catch wind beside steam locomotives' whistles and pistons, each vessel either arriving with strange goods and stranger tales or departing with the thunderous farewells. You step aboard one of them, another spirited adventurer in the crowd, and spend months at sea from docks to coasts, continents to isles, to steam across a windless sea under an endless night sky. When sunlight hits your deck once more, it reveals the New World's waters, like pouring paint into the void. You see the distant sails in the harbour of a forested continent and cheer with the exclamations of waking passengers upon seeing the continent, name pending, no sovereigns and no laws. The landing of all those visiting from the Old World, a boiling pot of all kinds of cultures with each person's distinct flavours of friends, enemies, grudges and dreams. Without hesitation you leave it behind and vanish into the forest, wanting simply to dedicate your life to exploring the interior of the continent. How surprising is it when you found that the elves are all sleeping beauties! Capture them all! Hahahahahahahaha!
lostatlas · 8.2K Views

Laphyzel: The Weaving of The World

In the magical world of Laphyzel, reality itself is shaped by an ancient and intricate force known as Threadweaving—a system of threads that bind all things: names, places, memories, even time. These threads can be pulled, looped, mended—or broken. And beneath this fragile weave, something terrible stirs: The Severed Loom, an ancient unmaking force that does not create but unravels. This is the story of three immortals bound not by blood, but by echo and choice: Hiro Brihrest: a bright, impulsive boy with a sugarcane addiction, a wooden sword he named Responsibility, and a strange habit of naming things. Unbeknownst to him, Hiro is the reincarnated First Hero, a soul tied to the heart of Laphyzel itself. In every lifetime, he forgets who he was—but his thread remembers. Vampher Darquez: the first vampire, born of death and resurrected by wild magic. Banished by the village that once raised him, he carries a coffin full of apples and deep, painful loneliness. He once made vampire nobility—but left them when they began worshipping him. All he ever wanted was a real family. Dee Megus: the inventor of Threadweaving, offered godhood long ago but refused it. He walks the world as an artist, teacher, and troublemaker. Dee once tried to thread a name into himself—a stolen name—but the Loom punished him with eternal loops. Now he is something between man and myth, carrying the weight of forgotten wars and futures that haven’t happened. Together—though not always together—the trio begin circling a fate they’ve already lived once. Because deep in the weave lies the scar of a catastrophe that hasn’t yet happened: the First Weave War. It will be Hiro, Dee, and Vampher who once sealed the Severed Loom—at great cost. But the memory of that war bled backward in time, fracturing the world before the battle was even fought. These fractures created places where time stutters, names echo, and people forget themselves. The story begins innocently: Hiro and Dee traveling from ruin to ruin, Hiro hearing his name whispered in riverbeds and constellations. But Hiro’s presence begins waking something. The Loom watches. Thread cultists called Dethreaders, led by the eerie priest Mollwright, seek to unnname Hiro, not kill him—because to speak someone’s threadname wrongly is to erase their ability to reincarnate. Meanwhile, Vampher awakens from stasis with no clear reason. Drawn by forgotten bonds, he begins walking again, accompanied by a child made from one of his discarded names—a being who calls him Father Not and sings the lullaby Hiro shouldn’t remember. The three slowly converge. At a festival celebrating names, Mollwright attempts to unname Hiro using a scroll from the Severed Loom. But he mispronounces it, and the weave rejects him. Hiro, shaken, begins leaking memory and speech from lives he hasn’t lived yet—he even calls Dee by the forbidden name Weaveren. Dee rushes Hiro to an abandoned Thread Shrine to repair his frayed soul, but something buried deep beneath the shrine begins to wake early.
Steins_12 · 13.3K Views

Reaping Devil

Orion was a homeless orphan living in the human settlement Central. The boy was, for lack of a better word, stupid—not because he lacked intelligence (no, he was actually pretty normal intellectually speaking), but what else would you call a person who smiled after getting beat to a pulp?! Stupid! STUPID THROUGH AND THROUGH! With his luck too, he was constantly getting beaten—punched by thieves, punched by beggars, punched by beggar thieves! But somehow, as long as he came out alive by the end, he thought it was a win. To him, the thrill of throwing himself into a helpless situation and coming out on top was exhilarating—the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the sweat running down his skin, the body aching from overuse. It was all so miserable, but somehow, when everything passed, he felt a rush of exstasy that surpassed all pain endured. Until the day came when he was met with a truly terrifying enemy. But he was used to it—steadying his resolve, analyzing the environment, and planning how to survive. But there was no surviving then. There was only death, and that was what awaited him. So he died… But he lived. And now, he was faced with two options for the future: help save humanity from doom, or aid its destruction. Note 1: HEAVILY inspired by Shadow Slave, this novel is an attempt at giving G3's masterpiece some of my own ideas. Not tagged as fanfiction because the story doesn’t happen in the same universe as Shadow Slave. Note 2: This storyu will skip a bit of context, but please take things at face value at first, i'll explain everything at the right time, i just don't want to give everybody walls of text of world building every 2 paragraphs.
Me_Really · 3.8K Views

THE KNIGHT WHO STOLE ME

THE KNIGHT WHO STOLE ME A Darkly Romantic Tale of Obsession, Forbidden Longing, and a Love That Won’t Be Ignored --- "I was supposed to hate him. Then he stole me." Sarah Jane, a quiet 17-year-old with a heart too tender for her own good, never asked for the attention of Andrew Knight—the ruthless, coldly beautiful CEO of AK Corporation. She certainly never expected to be dragged into his world, forced to live under his roof, or subjected to his unnerving gaze that seems to strip her soul bare. But Andrew Knight doesn’t ask. He takes. After a chance encounter awakens a long-buried obsession, Andrew whisks Sarah away to his gilded mansion, claiming her as his own. Yet this is no fairy tale—this is a war. He replaces her old things with expensive replicas—identical, but better. He watches her sleep, tucking her in with hands that could crush empires. He memorizes her sighs, counts her blushes, and hates how much he craves her fear. And Sarah? She should resist. But the deeper she falls into his world, the harder it becomes to deny the truth: Andrew Knight didn’t just steal her freedom. He stole the broken pieces of her heart—and refuses to give them back. --- WHY IT WORKS: “HE NOTICED HER FOUR YEARS AGO.” (Flashbacks reveal Andrew has been watching since her school speech. That photo in his drawer? Just the beginning.) “SHE LEFT HER DOOR UNLOCKED ON PURPOSE.” (And he knows it. The midnight temple kiss? Neither of them will admit it happened.) “THE COCKROACH SCENE.” (A bug makes him yank her into his chest. His heartbeat? Faster than hers.) “SAM, THE ULTIMATE CHAOS GREMLIN.” (“Andrew, if you keep glaring at her, she’ll think you hate her.” Andrew: “Good.” —Lies. Lies everywhere.) “THE ‘ONLY YOU’ WHISPER IN THE MAYBACH.” (His car. His rules. Her in the passenger seat. No one else.) --- TROPES YOU’LL DEVOUR: "Touch Her and You Die" Energy Forced Proximity (One mansion. Two stubborn hearts.) "Who Hurt You?" Backstories Slow Burn (So slow it burns the house down) Possessive AF CEO (“Look at me, Sarah. Only me.”) --- FINAL HOOK: "He was supposed to be her prison. Instead, he became her addiction." --- READ IF YOU DARE: You love morally grey men who loathe their own weakness. You live for heroines who are soft but never weak. You need a slow burn that hurts so good. --- WARNING: This story contains: Unresolved sexual tension (So much glaring.) A CEO who doesn’t know how to relax (But tries for her.) Sam. (Just… Sam.) --- THE KNIGHT WHO STOLE ME (Because love isn’t given. It’s claimed.)
Sharadox_5371 · 23.4K Views

From Nothing, Kean

Kean was born into the strongest village of the 7 Realms—but not as a warrior, not as a prodigy, not as anyone worth remembering. He had no father. His mother fell into a coma when he was just a toddler. Raised by silence and ignored by everyone, Kean grew up invisible. Weak. Forgotten. But inside him slept two things: a devil sealed deep in his soul… and an eye power the world had never seen before. As Kean begins his journey to be noticed, he unlocks layer after layer of a power hidden even from legends. He’s mocked for his strange fighting style, Aura Farming, but it soon becomes a symbol of fear. His fights aren't just physical—they’re emotional, psychological, and personal. Each battle shapes him. He starts to hear the devil within, forming a dangerous bond that both helps and haunts him. Just as he rises to lead the fight against a terrifying Voidborn threat that unites all 7 Realms, he suffers the ultimate loss—his mother dies in front of him. In that moment, Kean unlocks the 5th level of his eye—something no one believed could exist. A power so perfect, it doesn't harm the user. He becomes unstoppable. But after defeating the Voidborn, he learns the painful truth: the Council of Nine, the creators of his village and so-called protectors, were never on his side. They knew everything. His past, his curse, his father’s death. Betrayed and burning with fury, Kean hunts them down—one by one. Brutally. No mercy. No speeches. Just justice. And when the blood settles, Kean does not claim a throne. He creates a new council. A council that stands not on power or fear—but purpose. He names it after the only thing he ever came from. Nothing.
MohitMiddha · 11.7K Views

The Fivefold Legend

"They called him a thief, a traitor, a legend. But Elias Veyne was just a boy who refused to kneel." In the sun-washed kingdom of Valenor, where the royal House of Solas rules with divine right and the power of Royal Edict—commands spoken in sunlight that cannot be disobeyed—Elias Veyne is born into the shadowed edges of the middle class. His father is a scribe, his mother a weaver, and his older brother Theron a loyal soldier-in-training. Elias is unremarkable in every way—until the day he fails his exams and realizes the truth: knowledge is power, and power is locked away from those not born beneath the sun’s blessing. When the royal Choosing Ceremony assigns him the humble Verdant Art (a Path meant for farmers and healers), Elias refuses his fate. He sneaks into the royal library and steals the first of many forbidden truths: Frost Logic, the icy discipline of the war-torn continent Veymar. His theft burns half the library down, branding him a criminal—and awakening a hunger for more. Driven by fury and the memory of his brother’s betrayal (for Theron, ever the loyalist, disowns him), Elias flees Valenor. His journey takes him across the five continents: Veymar, where he learns Frost Logic by standing in frozen rivers until his legs go numb. Kharaz, where he bargains with a merchant-lord for Coin’s Will, trading his blood for power—and debt. Sylvain, where rebels teach him the deadly side of Verdant Art, poisoning his own veins to grow weaponized thorns. The Unnamed Isle, where whispers tell him the final Path—Echo Walk, the power of the dead—awaits. But power comes at a cost. Each stolen discipline wastes his body: his hands frostbitten, his voice ruined from mimicking Royal Edict, his skin rotting from thorns. Worse, the Solas family hunts him, twisting his legend into that of a madman. When Elias returns to Valenor, it’s not as a hero, but as a living rebellion. He proves that Royal Edict can be wielded by anyone—shattering the divine right of kings. The people rise, the palace burns, and in the chaos, Elias confronts Theron, now a captain in the Solas army. Their final stand is not between brothers, but between faith and freedom. Theron, bound by duty, fires the execution shot—but misses on purpose. Elias, his body failing, dies mid-speech, his last words unfinished. Legends say he walks the Unnamed Isle still, a shadow with five scars—one for each continent, and one for the brother who loved him too late.
LumaneCasimir · 1.5K Views
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