cordelia beatrix christa

Since 5 years old, Christa Scarletblood had been training with Angelika who took her in her care. After a decade of endless training, Christa became a fine and a good swordsman. Then one day, Angelika got a request from a place far from their home. Seeing how dangerous the request was, Angelika had no choice but to leave Christa. After seperating from her teacher, Christa began her journey, journey that aren't written in the history of the world, the world that she shouldn't be a part of.

The sound of guns... The darkness... The smoke... Then, oblivion. Everyday, I am haunted by my nightmares. Everytime the thunder roll and lightning strikes, I shivered. Looking outside my window, I am writing my daily journal and poetry today... To release all the pains and tensions from my past. And I wrote.. December 18, 1980 Myshkin, Russia My beloved, Have you ever ask yourself... What's your life purpose? If.. Are you doing the right thing? Are you on the verge of confusion, loneliness, unhappiness and being stagnant? Day dreaming into your own world? Too much questions filled in your heart and mind. Too much of everything that you don't want. Too much! To clear out my confusion and to have more clarity about myself, I dig deeper inside me. Reminiscing my childhood moments and cherish them. Facing the darkest and painful moments of my memories. Those memories of repeating horror, memories of loss, memories of death. Yes, I did face it all. I cried hard. After decades of those patterned memories... This is the first time that I realized.. How I treated myself so badly. And I really wanted to give back to myself. By appreciating my past. Appreciate yourself more... Love yourself more... And you will discover more... I have discovered each words, all feelings, expression, harmony just fits well to take steps in writing this poem for my past. ***A LETTER FOR MY PAST SELF*** My dearest self in the past... I have been visiting you lately in a vast... You are carefree, immature and FEARLESS, You go out more, loving the sun and grasses, Full of sweat and sun-kissed from above. Joyous days, feet touching stones and green Oh How glorious those days have been Flowing like water in every storms within And wind touches, caressing my skin Telling me, It's ok dear, everything has it's purpose". A path full of journey and a dead rose All those rise and fall, I am with you... All those tears and laughter, I am with you.. I am always with you til the end of time

A. Retailing of Percy jackson Me just writing my own fan fiction femPercy x apollo Secret identities Soulmates and more Just read the book. Sorry for some reason.It doesn't allow me to change the targeted audience For everyone to read , but mostly targeted at females

The sound of guns... The darkness... The smoke... Then, oblivion. Everyday, I am haunted by my nightmares. Everytime the thunder roll and lightning strikes, I shivered. Looking outside my window, I am writing my daily journal and poetry today... To release all the pains and tensions from my past. And I wrote.. December 18, 1980 Myshkin, Russia My beloved, Have you ever ask yourself... What's your life purpose? If.. Are you doing the right thing? Are you on the verge of confusion, loneliness, unhappiness and being stagnant? Day dreaming into your own world? Too much questions filled in your heart and mind. Too much of everything that you don't want. Too much! To clear out my confusion and to have more clarity about myself, I dig deeper inside me. Reminiscing my childhood moments and cherish them. Facing the darkest and painful moments of my memories. Those memories of repeating horror, memories of loss, memories of death. Yes, I did face it all. I cried hard. After decades of those patterned memories... This is the first time that I realized.. How I treated myself so badly. And I really wanted to give back to myself. By appreciating my past. Appreciate yourself more... Love yourself more... And you will discover more... I have discovered each words, all feelings, expression, harmony just fits well to take steps in writing this poem for my past. ***A LETTER FOR MY PAST SELF*** My dearest self in the past... I have been visiting you lately in a vast... You are carefree, immature and FEARLESS, You go out more, loving the sun and grasses, Full of sweat and sun-kissed from above. Joyous days, feet touching stones and green Oh How glorious those days have been Flowing like water in every storms within And wind touches, caressing my skin Telling me, It's ok dear, everything has it's purpose". A path full of journey and a dead rose All those rise and fall, I am with you... All those tears and laughter, I am with you... I am always with you til the end of time. You have no choice, we are both destined. Oh loving sun and dreamy moon, Grace us the light in our path divine, My past self, I thank you! For the wonderful memories... In my troubled present, found peace in you. Beatrix ********************************************** As I closed my journal... I just hear my Nana's footsteps and call out. "My princess, it's dinner time. Don't forget your coat, it's a bit freezing today!." "Yes, coming Nana!." I checked myself in the mirror for the last time, before sharing the table with Nana. The beauty in the mirror speaks of simplicity and elegance. I'm tall at my age of 15, around 183cm, with soft silver wavy hair and emerald green eyes. I'm looking at the reflection of my mother. And before my tears fall. "Beatrix?" A hint of annoyance in Nanas voice. "Yes, sorry Nana." Then, we silently eat our beetroot soup. In the same month, in different year. Our mother gather all of us, her children, near the fireplace hearth, made of granite and marble stone. My eldest brother Maxim played the piano while my older sister Annika played the flute. While me and my mom, cheerfully singing. Then, our beloved father Dimitri, joined us in our joyfulness. Amidst our liveliness, the commotion outside the House of Oblonsky raised our fears. People shouting with torches and guns. My father Dimitri was stunned. I'm crying in horror. I hugged my father...for the last time. When.... My small voice... bellowed "NO!!!!" "Mama, Papa..." "Maxim, Annika..." 

“Do you trust me, Hailey?” he asks as he looks deep into my eyes. Our eyes locked and the whole world fades away, it looks deep in my soul as if the answer to his question is there. Thinking about it my mind tries to come up with something not to trust him but nothing. “a little... maybe” is all I could say, while I take another sip of the wine still locked onto his gaze. “If I asked that you must submit to me with your whole body, will you?” his voice was husky. Again, I do not know what to answer. Can I give in just for one night? Would I give in for once, to feel for once how it would feel to be desired? To know how it would feel to be the only one he wants even if it was not real. Even if it was just for one evening. Not trusting my voice, I slowly nod. My Angel, will you break the spell? Are you my only true love? Lying next to her, I take her in my arms as she places her head on my chest. Soon I drifted off to sleep. What happens when myth and reality come together to find love?

Cordelia Nightshade is a 23-year-old human girl who discovers the truth about her family and clan - they are not human. To love eternally, she has to die, to die she has to live and to live... she has to learn the difference between Myth and Truth - if there is any. As life would have it, the voices she's heard in her head since birth has a purpose far more sinister than just being annoying. When Cordelia meets the big, dark-haired Allan Maine, she turns the entire immortal world upside down - breaking all the rules and changing history as they know it. This is not what you expect from a love story - it is Certainly what you expect from a love story until you reach the darker side - where the reality clash with mythology. Where do you draw the line and how much is possible to endure? Excerpt: I gaze up and notice the colors lashing out of an angry paintbrush over the horizon. The knot in my stomach is a vivid notification, reminding me of being as irritated as the enflamed and ginger tints marking the sky. From where I’m sitting, the towering volcano in the distance looks lonely yet proud. I marvel at the magnitude of nature rendering the likes of me insignificant. I’m just a small biological mass cowering at the foot of a fire goddess; nothing special. The prickly patches of grass and barbed brushes under my naked legs recommend moving. I inspect the scrapes and welts around my hands and knees with renewed vigor. By the time I distinguish the human shape from the other obscure and creeping shadows, it was too late. A sense of annoyed inconvenience forces my head to look up at the person blocking my view. What I thought I’d see was a family member. What I see is two deep, gilded eyes set in the moon-pale skin topped with dark hair rivaling black lava. I feel every last nerve recoil into tiny prickly hairs, standing straight up. The view of the man in front of me is a complete opposite rendition to fire goddess I just venerated. He is an enormous portrait hauntingly hanging in mid-air. My mouth dries rapidly but the trio who live in my mind become rather loud and verbal: “Run!” and “Hit it!” and “Stay calm dearie, for your safety.” As so many times before in my life, I ignore them altogether. I do not own the image nor the story. I found the story really interesting, so that is why I want to share it with everyone. So that they can enjoy reading something fascinating.

A pessimistic teenage basketcase faints and icks at the sight of romance. She never fell in love; love fell on her. Injured and lovesick, her perspective on love shifts. After a journey of laughter, she needs to part ways. Tragedy collapses on her as she realizes that she is no longer loved. In despair, her manic tendencies cause chaos as her shattered soul longs for revenge.

Concorde, a nation built because of chaos, brought down because of chaos. Witness how Concorde rose to power and how it fell.

O que é concórdia? você está pronto? ninguém segura o que não pode ser contido, as coisas são como devem ser, as traições são escondidas e devem ser mantidas escondidas, os segredos mechem, abalam, quem meche com que não deve acha o que não quer. Venha, mergulhe e descubra todos os segredos que abalam um grupo de pessoas no interior do Brasil, que serão asoladas por um segredo antigo, algo que nunca deveria ter sido desenterrado, uma vez que você faz o que não não deve há um preço a se pagar. Uma coisa é certa, nada é realmente real, e se salva não será nada fácil.

Today the corona pandemic has caused outcry all over the world. Even superpowers are not spared from this pandemic. This epidemic has told man that whenever there has been atrocities with nature, he has taken his revenge by sending his servant. Today's man has become selfish and abominable in nature. He has started considering himself as God, who also respects God. They are also enjoying the fruits of their actions like mites.