EPHEMERAL - hallowed warriors - Wattpad

Story cover for EPHEMERAL by _likeariot

EPHEMERAL

Reads 1,563
Votes 9
Parts 200
Time 1h 6m

Reads 1,563
Votes 9
Parts 200
Time 1h 6m

Mature

author ephemeral escapril escapril2019 escapril2020 escapril2021 lyrics momoka momokapoetry music poem poems poetry thoughts writing

Hi there, I'm Momoka!

I've always wanted to give poetry a try, so why not now? I thought it would be a good idea to have an outlet for whatever swamp-like state my brain is in.

I also want to mention a quick [TRIGGER WARNING] as many poems contain mentions of darker subjects. If you are sensitive to those subjects then please, discretion is the better part of valour!

Thank you for reading.

c.mAll Rights Reserved

author ephemeral escapril escapril2019 escapril2020 escapril2021 lyrics momoka momokapoetry music poem poems poetry thoughts writing

Table of contents

200 parts

Sign up to add EPHEMERAL to your library and receive updates

or

Content Guidelines

You may also like

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐧 by evaraarchives

#𝟐 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✦ 𝐀 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𓂃⋆.˚ She was light-too blinding, too pure for a man like him. He was darkness-cursed, dangerous, and utterly obsessed. He was a man of power, feared and worshipped in the same breath, ruling over the world of shadows where morality was a myth and sin was the only language spoken. Love? That was for the weak. He didn't do love. He didn't believe in innocence. Until her. She was untouched by the darkness he thrived in-a vision of purity, a forbidden fruit he had no right to crave. But the devil had never been one to deny himself temptation. And she... she was his greatest one. She should have run. He told her to. Instead, she stayed, unaware that the moment she stepped into his world, she became his. His to ruin. His to cherish. His purest sin. And now, even if heaven came calling-he'd rather burn than let her go.

Diavolo by demimartha026

She hated him as much as he wanted her, a thorn in her side ever since they met, and it had only gotten worse with each lingering gaze between them. As an aspiring journalist, Presley didn't believe in love-or lasting romantic relationships of any kind. The last thing she needed in her whirlwind of life was to get involved with her best's friends bodyguard-or rather the head of the Cosa Nostra. A man with little use of manners and secrets in his past. Tall, handsome and covered with tattoos, a living and breathing hazard with a cold nature and quiet demeanor. A beautiful monster dressed in leather jackets, and tight fitting shirts. A made man. Silvio had ever met a woman like her, who spent every minute glaring at him. One who he was consumed to touch despite his dislike for touch. A stubborn femme fatale with soft brown eyes and obsidian curls. A woman he'd been trying to resist for a long time. When a threat from her past lands her into the very arms of her nemesis and into a fake relationship, she's forced to get to know him and suddenly, their fake relationship feels more real than anything she had ever own. - preview - God, it felt right like this was where it belonged-this was where I belonged. And she felt it too, given by the slight rush of her breathing, and dazed eyes. There was always this magnetic pull and tug between us, so irresistible and consuming. "Silvio." She let out a small gasp, obviously not expecting me to touch her, and it burned. Everything right now burned but it felt good. Almost in an addicting way like the pain crossed the threshold and soared to become another feeling. "I don't think this is a good idea." "You want me to stop right now, say it but this is a damn good idea." I said in a gruff voice. "Tell me you don't want this, tell me it's a bad idea and I'll stop."

Blood Orange Periphery / 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺 by PienPouwels

❝The calm in my marrow spoke in muted bursts of fireworks. I was born for explosions and trying to be less.❞ Over the past decade, I've written poems, books, short stories, fanfiction and hundreds of thousands of words, but nothing felt complete. This collection of selected works was meant to be my final offering- the only thing ready for posthumous publication. Blood Orange Periphery includes poems written in the months preceding the end-that-didn't-happen, some of my best teenage scribbles, and journal entries that chronicle the transition from death-planning to recalibrating life.

Melancholy by ruani_writes

She hated them. They loved her with everything in them. The universe truly has a sick way of telling you it's there, doesn't it? From being kidnapped to being abused, that was all Arabella saw in life. It was all she ever knew. They tell you to keep fighting but sometimes you realize... you were just a child. Now she's built herself up using her pain as the next step to her strength. She's learnt how to strive forward even as her past haunts her mind crawling up her back every passing second. That is until the first 7 people who only ever brought her pain find their way back into her life. She has no way to let go of her past when they come right back to her. The world showed her no mercy in it's ways so why should she. ~~~ I let out a small sigh wanting more of this. I wanted to be held like this whenever I felt broken. Feel the way he puts me back together in his arms. It ate at my heart and I could have sworn I felt a feathery kiss on my head. It was as if he could hear my thoughts and was kissing them away for me. Slowly he lets one hand go, the other staying around me as he brings my chin up to him gently wiping my last tears as more fill my eyes. He sees this and his eyes look... crumbled. If you feel this way then why can't you choose me, Dominic. I shake my head from his hands wishing to step back but he pulls me back to him a pain filled groan leaving him. "Just one more minute. Please." His body shook and I brought him closer, feeling our pain become one. Our hurricanes of minds pull away even for the smallest time letting us stand together as one in each other's embrace. He was it for me. But I wasn't his.

A Girl in a Forgetful World by parkiepwrites

This is a collection of all the poetry I have written. Some sadness, some happiness, and a concotion of both. Poetry is my way to vent and let my emotions flow freely. Thanks for checking it out, and I really hope you enjoy what you find! And please -- Feel free to comment any suggestions to my writing! I'm in love with getting criticism (no, I'm not even freaking kidding. I know it sounds weird, but I really am!) I am eager to learn to be a better writer and grow surrounded by those suggestions and wonderful, amazing, awesome readers I have! Thank you guys again so much! It means the world to me! #68- hard (4/6/19) 1K Reads! (10/19/19)

Trapped by secretreads_shhh

I watched as he walks closer to me making take a step back, his green eyes has darken and filled with rage I continue to step back but was soon stopped by the wall I started to tremble in fear. " Wanna say that again love?" He says towering over me, I couldn't speak I opened my mouth but nothing came out he was going to hurt me " Love.. I don't like to repeat myself I'm not a very patient man but if you don't give me an answer there is going to be blood on this floor and it's not going to be mine" he says calmly I couldn't hold back tears no more "You can't just come and own me like some piece of property!" I sobbed looking everywhere else but him I spoke up again " I'm not yours and never will be-" I was cut of by a hand gripping around my neck lifting me off the ground my hands immediately started trying to pull off his hand around my neck, but he didn't budge. " who said you had a choice" he says looking deep into my eyes, I slowly felt my throat closing up I tried harder to get his hand away but he was too strong I started to get less and less air "I'm going to say this once so listen close" my lungs start to burn as he leans in my ear " you're mine and mine only " He says before dropping me onto the ground I fell on my knees breathing greedily for air..... Alani Jones has a terrible past that is wanted to keep in the dark but that doesn't last when she finds out that her best friend's brother, has his eye on her, weather she likes it or not she is his and no one can tell him different.

PENNED DOWN by Shreya_VA

Don't go by the cover, go by the badges of victory! What's Special? 😉 A book of poetry for all of your moods and genres, just look in brackets and choose the one that fits your mood. Be it mini poems or reverse - haiku, sonnet or acrostic. Be it a dirge or a realization or even a bunch of musings - friendship goals or mad love, a dash of horror perhaps? You're at the right place 👉 💙July is Free contest winner. 💜May is blooming contest winner. 💚 @BeyondSol Poetry Contest Winner . Free the soul, free the poetry. Let the ink bleed into your words. Be fearless, reckless, bold, be a poet! My collection of poems. My dreams, desires and aspirations.

The Mafia's Mercy by Laisha_Gardner

The darkness in his eyes, the dangerous smell of alcohol in his breath, and his deathly grip keeping me bound to him made my heart pound in my chest and my body quiver beneath him. Shamefully, it wasn't anything that I wasn't used to, because...the things I let him do to me? When he was frustrated, annoyed, and angry at the world, I was here to be his pound of flesh. In return, he masked the void of my loneliness because for months, that was the transaction of our relationship. He'd pin me to the wall, bend me over the counter, pull my hair, slap me, choke me, and I enjoyed every second of it because in that moment, it finally felt good to be powerless. Irony is a funny thing. I enjoyed being in pain because it made me forget how much I was hurting. *** "I warned you, doll." His voice strikes a string of chills down the base of my spine, a reminder that all of the time in the world could pass, and he's still not letting go. This is where the good girl in me dies. "You're mine now," he whispers. *** My name is Mercy-Mercy Carter. I went to college. Got myself a useless Bachelor of Science in Mathematics degree. His name is Marcel-Marcello Saldívar. However, at the time, I didn't know that he, the heir to the Saldívar Mafia empire, was the man that I had blindly offered myself to. As smart as I am, I was stupid all the times when it actually mattered. After all, he did warn me that he was dangerous. I just didn't think he could be much worse than my thug of a brother. I was vulnerable-naive. My name is Mercy, and I belong to him. My name is Mercy, and I am The Mafia's Mercy. ⚠️ Content Advisory: This is a DARK Romance novel, in every sense of the word. It DOES contains DARK themes that may be triggering. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised.

Enanan's Poetry Journal ☆彡 by Enanan_Shin0n0me

Hello there and welcome to a different style of story compared to my usual ones, called 'Enanan's Poetry Journal' Despite not really liking poetry as a subject, I find sometimes with certain topics in my mind my pen flows smoother and suddenly I have poems written, so I hope that I can entertain you with these few short ones, and hey, maybe there might be a few future story hints in these poems, so keep an eye out! :) New poems will be uploaded every 2-3 weeks!! Started: 21st March 2024 Finished:

Attracted to His Cold by whore_for_mafia

It wasn't really the result I was looking for. In fact, it was even better. I never really thought that this would happen to me. I never believed someone could love, well, me. But they did. He did. And despite his 'reputation', despite his lifestyle, despite everything everyone had ever told me, I loved him just as unconditionally. But will everything stay in harmony? How long will my paradise last for until my past comes back? Will they haunt me? Catch me? Kill me? "Livia? Tiago?" I ask, my voice breaking slightly. If they're here, then.... "Where is he? Where's-" "Gattina." All the breath in my lungs disappear as I turn to find the source of the voice. Half-way through my turn, I can see his dark silhouette at the end of the hallway. When I breathlessly say my next word, it feels as if I can breathe properly again for the first time in over a month. "Lupo." I run towards him without a second thought, sprinting full speed at him, and jump into his awaiting arms. He engulfs me in the warmest hug I've ever felt, entrapping me entirely - not that I mind. I cry in joy at finally being reunited with him as I bury my head into his neck, burrowing myself into him and vowing never to let him go again. Unwrapping myself from him, I look up at into his eyes. They're filled with love and relief, the same emotions I imagine my eyes are filled with. That quickly changes when his face contorts into one of pain. "Cole?" my brows furrow in confusion. He lets out a pained and strangled noise before he drops to his knees, collapsing at my feet. I gasp when I see Viktor behind him, holding a bloodied knife. A/N: Hey guys. Be prepared for dark themes, mature language, mature scenes, and so much more. Enjoy the roller-coaster, you are locked in... - Potential PTSD triggers! - BDSM themes! - Mentions of rape. - Mentions of abuse. - Mentions of torture. - Gun play! - Knife play! - Dark kink! (Warnings will be put at the beginning of potential trigger chapters)

You may also like

Slide 1 of 10

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐧 cover

Blood Orange Periphery / 𝘱𝘰��𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺 cover

Melancholy cover

A Girl in a Forgetful World cover

PENNED DOWN cover

The Mafia's Mercy cover

Enanan's Poetry Journal ☆彡 cover

Attracted to His Cold cover

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐧

#𝟐 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✦ 𝐀 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𓂃⋆.˚ She was light-too blinding, too pure for a man like him. He was darkness-cursed, dangerous, and utterly obsessed. He was a man of power, feared and worshipped in the same breath, ruling over the world of shadows where morality was a myth and sin was the only language spoken. Love? That was for the weak. He didn't do love. He didn't believe in innocence. Until her. She was untouched by the darkness he thrived in-a vision of purity, a forbidden fruit he had no right to crave. But the devil had never been one to deny himself temptation. And she... she was his greatest one. She should have run. He told her to. Instead, she stayed, unaware that the moment she stepped into his world, she became his. His to ruin. His to cherish. His purest sin. And now, even if heaven came calling-he'd rather burn than let her go.