《What I Didn't Say [Tae Kwang's Unsent Letters]》10%
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dear angel,
i guess it's okay.
you didn't lie to me, and say you loved me.
but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
the sad smiles i put on my face every day, seem harder and more impossible.
i'm confining myself to this glass prison, even though i know dang well how to get out.
i'm just afraid.
maybe i'll hurt myself even more.
why can't i run to you, even though i want you the most?
sincerely,
tae kwang
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Threedak is a simple Dhajtel. Every night she scavenges and hunts for her tribe in the great desert, relying upon her skill and ancestral memories to avoid the night's many dangers. Her life remains largely the same until one night, one of the gleaming angels that hangs in the night sky falls into her desert. Deciding to investigate, she happens upon a scene far beyond her limited understanding. The Dhajtel aren't alone. The galaxy is far vaster and more hostile than Threedak's people can even begin to comprehend. Entrusted with the knowledge and memories of a dead race, it will be up to her to forge Dhajtel society into something that can survive the storm that is to come. - - -(This novel is heavy on Kingdom/Empire Building and is an attempt at fairly hard (grounded in real science) Science Fiction) Cover credit to DrakonStorm - - - A couple authors with reptile MC's have started a discord, feel free to hang out with us.
8 130 - In Serial51 Chapters
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Power is born through only two things. Blood and the suffering of others. Drakai must bleed and go through unimaginable pain to protect the ones closest to his heart. In his past life, he knew well the feeling of pain. And he also knew that somebody was benefiting from it. The same evil that was In the man that enslaved him also exists within Drakai's heart, will he beat the evil or succumb to the dark feeling that grows stronger every time he falls into his inborn madness?
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Snow white hair, blue eyes, pale. Devil, monster, mutt, failure.This story follows one Tyr Faeron, crown prince, heir primus and mass murderer. A wrathful, angry, and lost young man that has made it his goal to hunt down the men that killed his mother - and he is on the cusp of finishing the promise he'd made before her cairn stones so many years ago. On the surface he is duplicitous, whimsical, and base of cunning - but within the depths beyond the many masks he wears, something is waiting. Waiting for an end, the end he'd come to long for, whether it be to himself or any possible threats in his vicinity. After that long labor of vengeance is completed... Nobody knows, not even him - an arrogant and otherwise solitary individual with nothing in the way of friends - only the brothers of the blackguard who follow him through life as he pursues this mission. He was born a prince, but he'd be called a disappointment - failing to manifest the great power that he was born to before being summarily discarded by his father, a 250 year old 'primus'. That word again... Men who can shatter mountains and level cities, that's what he was supposed to be. Some call them demi-gods, all Tyr sees is a poor excuse for a parent. Time had made him bitter, cruel, and arguably psychotic - seeing only enemies wherever he looks. They'd come for him, too, one day - to wipe the slate clean and make room for another - and it's his conviction to ensure that he dies while taking as many of those rats with him. This is a story about finding acceptance, growth, and understanding - from the point of view of a cold and brutal individual who wears many masks. Of someone who was born to be the greatest emperor the eastern continent has ever seen - but he failed in that. Strong, yes, but only in the context of a man - Tyr's magic is weak. His convictions are weak. He has been made a beast of instinct by loss and a constant confronting of his own impotency in the face of his father. A mythos that stretches across planes, of magic, a pantheon of cruel gods. Of someone who's dedicated his entire mind to the art of killing a man, and none to living a normal childhood or coming to understand friendship, empathy, or compassion. The first five years of his life a mystery, a hole none have ever been willing to fill, leaving him warped and twisted. His formative years gone and what must've been most of his humanity along with it. Now 17, he is on the cusp of leaving the city he'd never been permitted to leave for what might be the first time in his life. Always searching, though he won't know what for, for some time. An episodic that follows experience and symbolism rather than a never ending series of battles - where the conflict lay in constantly searching for wholeness in lieu of great villains or heroes. This is where it all started, the origin, the tale told a million times - and yet it hadn't been, 'reality' is tricky like that. The greatest lie ever told by the tongue that speaks is that any of this was real at all.
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These tears i cry | PJM
You know , silent tears holds the loudest pain? Short story . 11 March 2017 - completed in an hour
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