Thread: Xana writes (and bitches probably.) Comments Welcome!

I am always looking for comments and critiques on my writing. I'd prefer if you kept them on the constructive side, as I am perfectly aware I am a mediocre writer at best. Galatea Not your typical love story. See more He was pleased to see that she was waiting for him, standing casually, one knee bent as her heel rested against the wall. Red lips wrapped a white cigarette, inhaling deeply and then releasing slowly. The nub of the cigarette was stained with crimson evidence of her existence. She was wearing the long black overcoat he liked. He liked it, because it was just for him. Dozens of different men had seen her body every night she performed, but they had never seen her like this. She nodded to the burly bouncer as he stepped out of the club. They shared no words during that brief interaction, and she was happy to be rid of him, as she pulled her coat tightly around herself. They were now alone, and he was ready to finally make his move. When he stepped from the shadows, her wide eyes and agape mouth were evidence of how happy she was to see him. The white cigarette dropped from her lips and landed in a puddle, forever extinguishing its spark. Pleasepleaseplease, she begged him, her voice quivering with lust and her eyes brimming over with desire. He closed the distance between them quickly, having waited so long for this very moment. She expressed some concern that someone would catch them, but he quieted her fears with a finger to her lips and a whisper in her ear, We are all alone, love. Wrapping her in a strong embrace, their bodies tensed and convulsed from years of unrequited longing. She flailed against him, overcome with desire, grasping desperately at his arms, his chest, his face. Whimpers and sighs left her lips, wordlessly beseeching his touch. He didnt dare disappoint her, holding her tightly against the wall and himself. He marveled at the softness of her neck, supple under his finger tips and he felt the blood rushing through her veins. Pleaseshe pleaded once more between passionate gasps. She was holding him so tightly her nails dug into his skin and he knew she was almost ready to consummate their lust. Her lips were nearly blue without the stage lighting, and as her mouth parted he pulled her into a kiss. She grew weak in the knees, but he was more than happy to hold her up. In her silence,in her stillness, in her stiffness she consented to his every desire. Now she would be his, and his alone. No longer would she have to degrade herself before the men in the club. He would take care of her, and she would always be as beautiful as she is in this moment. The only thing left was to carry her home, her new home, where they could be alone. But first he unzips his pants. A Tempting Offer A short back story scene for my current Changeling character. It details the moment she met the Fae that would take her to Arcadia. See more Jiggling a small orange bottle between her fingertips, Iris was disappointed at the sparse sound it made. White pills rolled up and down the length as she twisted her hand expectantly, as though shaking it would replenish her supply. She sighed as she opened the bottle and sifted out a couple tablets, popping them into her mouth in a single fluid motion. Closing her eyes as the pilled traveled down the esophagus, she could hear the door open behind her, and soft footsteps shuffling about. Its fifty for the hour, she said from rote, in a flat tone that was far away from this place. Just leave it on the table and we can get She was turning to face him now, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she looked upon him. He wasnt anything like the men she normally serviced. Unusually tall and slender, clean shaven. His face had a sort of preternatural beauty to it, which was somehow simultaneously grotesque. He had sharped features, high prominent cheekbones, long pointed nose, thin lips. He seemed to pass between angelic and reptilian without ever stopping anywhere in between. He made his way about the room, paying little attention to her. Soft tsks could be heard as he wondered aimlessly, as though he werent intruding on her personal space. He didnt stop as he walked by the table she had told him to leave his money, but she didnt protest. Her eyes followed him as he made his way around her dwelling, he moved with such authority and purpose she didnt dare challenge him. Finally, he approach where she was still sitting. Fingers ran down the grain, as though he werent familiar with the feel of cheap wood. He drew close to her now, not a word had passed his lips yet his hands reached out to touch her face. Dont, she murmured softly, a protest that was as unconvincing to her as it was to him. His eyes were green or blue, this close to her should could hardly tell, or concentrate enough to differentiate. The most striking thing about him was his eyes, or more precisely, the way he seemed to look past her not registering her as a person but an exhibit. There was emptiness in his expression, an emptiness she had seen often in her own eyes these days and she supposed he was as dead on the inside as she was. Fingers softer than any man she had previously been with traced the scar that ran from her left eyebrow to her right cheek. The wound long since closed up and healed, yet still she flinched into herself as his fingers made their journey, the psychic pain throbbing throughout her being. He really did a number to you, did he? He asked as his velvet fingers cupped her chin, bringing her back to reality as he looked into her eyes. She didnt answer, but he wasnt exactly looking for her to answer. I could probably fix it for you, if you want, he continued gently, caressing her cheek in a familiar, intimate way, as though they had not just meet a few minutes ago. She laughed nervously, not sure where he was he was going with this. Despite his overbearing, boundary ignoring behavior, she didnt feel threatened by him. What, are you some kind of plastic surgeon? She asked with eyebrows raised. She pushed his hand away now, as she shook her head, There is no way I would let another man cut on my face. Nothing like that, He said in a melodious tone, stroking her hair. He didnt continue to explain, however, just staring at her through the mirror. Towering over her, his presence made him seemed larger still, a giant threatening to engulf her. Who are you? She finally asked, even though she hardly expected he would give her a straight answer. He smirked like he had told himself a most amusing joke and bent over to whisper it in her ear. Im the devil. She laughed almost instinctively, albeit somewhat nervously still. She almost believed him, wondering if he was even real or some figment of her drug-addled mind. The empty orange bottle lying on the vanity further confused her. Might as well see how far the rabbit hole goes now. So what, I suppose you will want my soul in exchange? She joked now, standing and turning to face him. Their bodies were touching now, and she quivered powerfully, almost ready to give him anything he asked. Your soul? he scoffed. No, you can keep that, Ill be tasking your body in payment pulling her even closer and whispering in her ear. She didnt resist, and she didnt. She knew in that moment that she would follow him straight to hell if he bid her so. Behind the Mask Little snippet of something I have been working on for awhile now. Hope to have another part up by next week. After staging a rescue mission at an enemys fortress, Alhana sacrificing herself so the rest of her group can escape. After a tense battle with the enemy general known as Justicar, she is captured. See more I killed him, he whispered in her ear, his breath on her neck. Justicar seemed to be gloating, bragging about his triumph over her mentor, but his voice was rather somber. I was the one who got to kill Vincent. I watched the life leave his eyes, as he called out your name with his dying breath. I wish he were still alive, so he could watch as I take the only thing that he ever cared about away from him. His chest pushed against her, pinning her to wall while his hand ran down her arms and to her neck. So you're going to kill me? She asked him, restraining any fear that threatened to seep out. His fingers tightened her throat for a moment, as he toyed with the idea. He could have killed her before, instead of knocking her out and taking her prisoner. What purpose did keeping her alive serve other than his own sadism? No, death is a mercy you will not know. He lifted her chin to look into his eyes. The mask effectively covered his features, obscuring his emotions from her. His eyes told her very little. You will be tortured until your mind or body breaks, and then you will be shaped into a lovely weapon for me to unleash on our enemies. His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he spoke and his eyes lit up with excitement. I would never serve you, she spit back at him, summoning every once of venom in her blood. He wasn't fazed, and why would he be? Her bravado was empty, and she was defeated. You have no idea. Everyone breaks eventually. There are many who would take pleasure in breaking you, he taunted, his eyes never leaving hers.I am more interested in the goal than the process, however you are a special case. I think I will enjoy watching you succumb to your darkness. Tell me, are you still in love with Vincent? His question caught her in an ambush. She didn't speak, averting her eyes from his piercing stare and swallowing her pain. Her silence spoke volumes more than any words could. more psychological impact there Saving yourself for a dead man? Tragic, indeed. He caressed her, as though his words were not sarcastic. By the time all this is done, I will rid you of that burden. This is a promise. His hands were behind her ears, fingers entagled with her hair as he pulled her face close to his. His lips parted first, pressing against hers with desperate need. Bearing teeth, he bit her bottom lip until she opened her mouth, granting his access. His tongue slipped inside, seeking hers as though it was its purpose in life. One hand moved behind her head, just above the neck to keep her close. The other hand reached around her to release her from the manacles, their bodies pressed against one anothers in the effort. Neither was wearing any armor, and she could feel his muscular form under his clothes. Even now, with her hands free, she didn't put up a fight, she didn't pull away. He melted into her and she nearly succumbed to his longing. When he finally stopped , he was still pressed against her face, the cool metal of his mask resting on her forehead. Are you going to force yourself on me? She managed to ask, her voice almost cracking. Is that what you want? For me to take it from you so that you can have all the pleasure and none of the guilt? He taunted her in a cocky tone.Why should I take from you, what in time, you will freely offer me? He had that self satisfied smirk on his face. He placed a waterskin on the ground before her and left without another word.