Latex Gloves

She died with chains around her wrists… and opened her eyes ten years in the past. Selena D’Archer was once the pride of her noble werewolf family beautiful, powerful, and destined to become the Luna of Alpha Damien Blackthorn, the ruthless CEO of the strongest pack in the region. But betrayal came not from strangers… it came from her own blood. Framed by her sister. Rejected by her mate. Executed like a traitor. Now reborn at seventeen, Selena has one mission: rewrite her fate. This time, she's no naive bride-to-be. She’s a strategist calculating, cold, and ready to make the Alpha beg for what he once threw away. But the contract is back on the table. And this time, she’s the one writing the terms. With claws hidden beneath silk gloves, Selena enters a dangerous game of power, revenge, and unexpected attraction. Because Damien the Alpha who killed her doesn’t remember the past… But she does. And she’ll make him pay whether through love or ruin.

-It began when a shrouded figure with hollow eyes came to claim the soul of a girl but instead got trapped in the mortal world- Marybeth would rather die than marry a man much older than her father, solely because he could potentially save her father's business, as he is considered one of the prestigious peers in society. In an attempt to escape the situation, Marybeth fled one night before the wedding to a club where men typically gathered to drink to excess and gamble. As she entered, her eyes scanned the clubhouse until they settled on her perfect catch. "Ah! There you are!" ::::::Except::::: "The dress…" he said, his voice low, "Take it off." But Mary just stood there, trembling, her eyes fixed on him as he sat with his legs crossed, cravat undone, revealing a smooth collarbone and a long neck. She tried not to stare at the way his long fingers traced the bottle of wine on the table beside him. Still, Mary couldn't bring herself to lift her hands and take off the dress. "Now… Beth." "The buttons…" she said tensely, "They're at the back of the dress. I can't… reac—h it…" Before she could finish, he stood and strode toward her, his boots hammering against the floor. He stopped right in front of her, letting his hand roam gently across her cheek. Mary flinched away from his touch. His glove was off now, and the feel of his skin against hers sent a flush of heat through her. "Scared?"

Laps of Betrayal In the high-gloss shadows of Chicago’s fashion elite, Tessy Collins owns the runway, legs for days, a smile that seduces sin, and a closet full of secrets she’ll never confess. But behind every strut in stilettos is a storm she can’t quite walk away from. Tessy isn't just beautiful. She’s dangerous. She knows it. She likes it. She beds men like she changes lipstick quick, messy, and without apology. But when she crosses the line with David, her best friend Kiesha’s long-term man, things spiral from sexy to savage really quick. What started as a power trip turns into a gut-wrenching betrayal. And when the smoke clears, friendships shatter, hearts bleed, and loyalty get buried under lust. Kiesha isn’t just the girl next door. She’s the girl who held Tessy’s hair at 3 a.m., who knew her pain and loved her anyway. But even she has a breaking point. And when Kiesha finds comfort in Tessy’s first and only real love, Ronnie the one Tessy never got over karma hits like a slap in silk gloves. From fashion shows to hospital beds, bedroom whispers to graveside confessions, Laps of Betrayal is a fierce, soul-burning story of desire, damage, and the women who dare to live out loud. It’s about loving the wrong people, crossing sacred lines, and discovering who you are when there’s nothing left to hide behind. Tessy was never looking for redemption. But fate has a wicked way of undressing you in front of your truth.

HE DIED BEGGING FOR LOVE. NOW HE IS BACK TO BURN THE WORLD DOWN...and maybe fall in love along the way. Genre: BL | Dark Fantasy | Revenge | 18+ | Apocalypse | Second Chance Rebirth #BL #ZombieApocalypse #EnemiesToLovers #ColdMLxBrokenMC #DarkRomance #18Plus #TraumaRecovery #Revenge #PowerAwakening #SlowBurn #SupernaturalAbilities --- Everyone in the Capital knows about the notorious Greyson family—wealthy, powerful, and rotten to the core. But the real scandal? The arrival of the triplet illegitimate sons, dragged into the mansion like unwanted baggage after their mother died. The younger one, Asher Greyson, became the family’s favorite punching bag: mocked, overlooked, a stain on their perfect reputation. All Asher ever wanted was to be loved. What he got instead was betrayal and a death so cold it burned. After dying at the hands of his half-sister, dissected like an animal for his rare lightning ability, Asher is reborn. But the world hasn’t ended…not yet. This time, he’s four months ahead of the outbreak. He won’t beg again. He’ll become something terrifying that the world itself will kneel down and beg for mercy. The apocalypse began with falling meteorites, shards of radioactive hell carrying the Z-virus. The purple moon will rise and black rain will follow. And from the ashes, ability users will be born… Asher will be one of them. But he’s not the only one walking through fire. Commander Caspian Winters, the Ice Emperor, is haunted by dreams of a boy with lightning scars and crimson red eyes. A boy he doesn’t remember holding as he bled out. A boy he’ll soon meet again. And when they collide, the spark is instant—dangerous, hungry, and inevitable. [The man who once haunted Asher’s final days like a ghost, untouchable and unreadable, now stands before him under the glow of the purple moon. Caspian’s gloved hand tilts his chin up. “You’re not what I expected,” Caspian murmurs, voice low and cold. Asher’s lips curl faintly, eyes glowing crimson. “And yet,” Caspian whispers, “You're exactly what I want.” --- “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Asher’s voice breaks on the question. Caspian doesn’t blink. “Because every time I look at you…” he says, stepping closer, “…I feel like I’ve already lost you.”] Asher swore he’d never trust again. But Caspian’s ice is the only thing that can soothe the storm inside him. Let the world burn. Let the dead rise. This time, Asher Greyson is taking back everything, his power, his revenge, and maybe… his heart.

The skies over West Hill carried no warning the day she left the Harrisons' estate. Della fastened her gloves, unsure why she'd been summoned. A girl with a secret past, a heart stitched in grief, and a magic too old to name...she didn't belong anywhere. Then came the man with pale red eyes and a darker name. And nothing was safe again. Not even her heart. "A witch with secrets. A vampire with a past. A bond neither of them saw coming" Young witch Della was only a girl when her mother was murdered. Taken in by the Harrisons, she grew up with two things: a past cloaked in silence and a future she didn't choose. Now on a mission to uncover her mother's killer and protect a powerful family heirloom bound to her bloodline, Della is thrown into a world of secrets, shadows, and slow-burning danger. But when she crosses paths with Lord Lucas - a cold, unreadable noble with piercing eyes and darker intentions...her journey becomes more than a search for answers. It becomes a battle between heart and duty. He's hiding something. So is she. And in a world where magic is feared and love is power... nothing is ever what it seems.

Evangeline “Eva” Claire Lioré was once a brilliant, overworked woman from a cold, futuristic world. When exhaustion finally claimed her, she didn’t expect to wake up as a baby in the arms of luxury—a second chance in a modern world where time moved slower, kisses came warmer, and desire wore velvet gloves.

“You know, I’ve met death. Rather polite, actually. But it doesn’t knock, just lets himself in.” Life. That fleeting flicker between two eternities of silence. People spend it chasing things—money, love, validation, a good seat on the train. They build empires of paper, relationships of glass, and sleep each night under the illusion that tomorrow has been promised. But it hasn’t. It never was. Death doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if you’re a king or a child. It arrives like an old friend, or a thief, or worse—like something you invited in. And yet… every now and then, the universe hiccups. A soul slips through. A crack opens. A second life is born—not as a reward, no, but as a test. Because what could be more dangerous than a man who's seen how the story ends—and comes back knowing exactly what not to do? But here’s the rub: a second chance is not a reset. It’s a curse with velvet gloves. You remember the pain, the loss, the betrayal—and worst of all, the choices you didn’t make. So when someone tells you this is just a story about life and death, smile politely. In many cases—in most cases—you’ll hear stories of heroes rising from the ashes, grateful for their second breath. However… in my case? I wanted to be the villain. To see a different end to this story. People say a person’s nature is hard to change. That deep down, we are who we are. But I changed... simply because I was curious. --------------- Join the discord server. https://discord.gg/BaP4c8b8Vq

I should’ve run. When the blood-soaked man collapsed on me in that alley, I should’ve screamed. Called the cops. Bolted. But I didn’t. I can't even say why. He threatened me yet I dragged him home. I disinfected his wounds. I let him stay, hoping he'd leave me alone but he didn't. And now? Now the devil sleeps on my couch, cooks me breakfast, and kisses like sin itself. He says his name is Kieran. Says he’s hiding. Says he won’t hurt me... unless I give him a reason. But the men hunting him aren’t just thugs. They’re ghosts in tailored suits and bloody silk gloves. Politicians. Kingmakers. Killers. And he’s not just some criminal. He’s the Kingpin. The one they whisper about when the lights go out. The one they’ve been trying to erase. I was just a miserable office girl with a boyfriend that was both a green and red flag, a family who barely registered my presence unless to mock me or demand for money and a life going nowhere. Now I’m in the crossfire of empires. My name is Kina. And I think I’ve fallen in love with the last man on earth who deserves it. But love won’t save us. Only war will. Other title: I Picked Up A Stray Crime-Lord

After six years of loving Julian Grayson and literally keeping him alive with her rare blood donations, Hazel Ashworth is just three days away from becoming his wife when he calls to cancel their wedding. The reason? Her half-sister Ivy has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and her dying wish is to marry Julian instead. Hazel watches in horror as Julian takes her handcrafted wedding dress to Ivy, who plans to wear it while stealing not just Hazel's fiancé, but her entire wedding—same venue, same date, even the same cake flavor. It's a devastating replay of their childhood, where Ivy's mother Eleanor destroyed Hazel's family by seducing her father and driving her mother to suicide, then spent years pushing Hazel out while Ivy took everything that was once hers. But this time, Hazel refuses to break like her mother did. She demands Julian's entire company and two million dollars as compensation, then shows up at the hospital to deliver Ivy's "wedding gift" in the most explosive way possible. As Ivy plays the perfect dying victim and Julian remains blind to her manipulation, Hazel begins to suspect that her half-sister's illness might not be as terminal as everyone believes. When Ivy has the audacity to ask Hazel to witness her wedding to Julian, the gloves come off completely. Now Hazel must decide how far she's willing to go to expose the truth and reclaim what's rightfully hers, even if it means destroying the man she once loved in the process.

The moment the dart struck my back, I staggered. Heat flooded my limbs, then numbness__ like my body was sinking while still standing. I heard Seraphina scream my name, but her voice sounded far away, like she was underwater. The cave blurred__ shadows dancing, lights spinning. My legs gave out _ I crumbled beside nyra. My hands resting on her wings. Was this how it ended? I blinked, the figures closed in. Then __ a roar. It wasn't nyra, not even human. The air changed _ electric and sharp. Like a storm had entered the cave. Then came the sound _ swift and brutal. I saw shadows, one in front of me__ nails long, curvy, eyes pure gold. She just killed one man with her bare hand. A gunshot. Another. A shout cut short. A man screamed. Something crashed hard against the wall. I tried to lift my head __ but to no avail. A blue of black and silver swept past me. Like a shadow but with purpose. A familiar voice barked "why the hell is she here". Low. Cold. Unforgiving. Draven? I tried to speak _ but couldn't. My lips moved, but nothing came out. Darkness bled in from the edge of my vision. The last thing I saw was Draven kneeling beside me _ gloved hands, lifting me up gently. His eyes were now pure gold. Anger. Wildness. Protection. Then nothing, only darkness

The dead should stay dead. Kael Arvid repeated the words like a prayer as he adjusted the raven mask over his scarred face. The carved beak pressed cold against the bridge of his nose, the eyeholes narrowing his vision to slits of flickering torchlight. Beneath him, the ballroom of House Dain shimmered—a grotesque painting of gold and rot. Nobles laughed behind ivory masks, their gloved hands clutching goblets of wine dark as clotting blood. The air reeked of clove and something fouler beneath, like meat left too long in the sun. He hadn't come for wine. The dagger at his belt was hungry. It had waited seven years for this night. Seven years since House Dain's soldiers kicked in the door of his family's cottage. Seven years since he'd watched from the treeline as the flames turned his sister's screams to smoke. Seven years of imagining this moment—the moment he'd slide steel between Lord Dain's ribs and whisper his family's names as the light

Once every 10,000 years, the heavens open, and the Mortal Realm is cast into turmoil. The Great Reset begins—a cosmic reckoning where empires fall, beasts awaken, and only the strongest carve their names into eternity. For those who survive, the path to the Astral Realm and the right to claim divinity awaits. Raikai, a warrior forged in storms, wields the power of the Celestial Iron Body Cultivation, his flesh tempered into living steel. His Death Arms—twin scythes bound by chains—dance like a mythological dragon, crackling with lightning, capturing and tearing apart those who stand in his way. Beside him stands Shinryu, swift and precise, blessed by the Celestial Tiger. His Death Arms, a pair of white leather gloves with retractable claws, strike with divine speed—every slash a whisper of the heavens’ fury. Together, they ascend the path of blood and power, bound by brotherhood yet tested by fate. Their bond is their greatest strength, but in a world where the Death Arms grow with their wielders—feeding on their victories and failures—power often demands a terrible price. As the 10,000-year Reset begins, ancient titans stir, forgotten sects rise from the shadows, and primordial beasts long thought extinct awaken. The heavens will bear witness as Raikai and Shinryu defy the gods—or die trying. In an age where flesh is reforged into iron and weapons evolve alongside the soul—two brothers will challenge destiny itself!

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...” Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp. You boys love your villain stories, don’t you? You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy. But you? You don’t want to lift a damn finger. You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed. You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible. You’re not fans of villains. You’re fetishists. You want the violence, but not the silence after it. You want domination, but not the burden of being hated. You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it. You don’t read these stories to understand evil. You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way. “Villains don’t play fair.” Exactly. That’s why you love them. Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t. You don’t want a villain’s life. You want his results. You want to watch him burn the world for a woman. But you’d cry if a girl left you on read. So tell me— What exactly are you rooting for? At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs. You know the type. Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead. She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job. But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched. Her cape drops before her guard does. But I don't need to tear it off. She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie. You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy? Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended? That's not conquest. That’s devotion, baby. Unfiltered. Undeniable. And the irony? They fall the hardest. Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath. But I do. I whisper into the cracks of their perfection. I plant kisses where they hide their pain. I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength. And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission— That’s when I rise. I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption. I’m not a villain. I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor. Chapter Updates: 2 chapters per day (unspecified until a fix update time is decided) Bonus Chapters: +2 Extra chapters (350+ coin gifts) +4 Extra chapters (1005+ coin gift) +6 Extra chapters (2005+ coin gift)

In a world where love is power and loyalty is a game, Crystabella Brooklyn was meant to be the perfect fiancée. Instead, she became a scandal and Leo Whitewood’s obsession. Now engaged to the most dangerous man in elite society, Crystabella is done playing by their rules. Surrounded by enemies,Leo’s ruthless family, a bitter ex who won’t let go, and a best friend who wants her life and believes she never deserved it, Crystabella is ready to rise from the ashes and reclaim her power. This isn’t just a love story. It’s betrayal in silk gloves. It’s obsession dressed in designer suits. It’s war with hearts on the front line.

Elara's gloves never come off. Her chambers are lined with lead. Even her tears are collected in silver vials before they can poison the earth. The last living heir to the Veyne bloodline, she was born with "The Withering"—a divine curse that turns her skin to poison. After accidentally killing her mother at birth and her nursemaid at age six, she has lived in solitary confinement, her existence known only to the royal alchemists who study her condition. Her only comfort? The dying things she touches don't suffer. Flowers bloom brighter in her grip before turning to ash. Sick animals find peace under her fingers. Until Kieran, a disgraced scholar sentenced to death for heresy, grabs her bare wrist during an escape attempt... And doesn't die.

In the fog-choked city of Vullum, death blooms in silence. Lenora is an apothecary wrapped in ritual scars and silk—a masked woman cursed to feel the hearts of others with a single touch. Feared by the living, haunted by forgotten rites, she walks the streets like a myth wearing gloves. When bodies begin appearing with no wounds—only expressions of overwhelming sorrow and spider lilies blooming from their chests—Lenora is forced into an uneasy alliance with Dorian Vale, a cynical investigator with ice-blue eyes and secrets deeper than his sarcasm. Together, they unravel a string of deaths that echo a ritual buried in Lenora’s own past. A past tied to a boy named Cassian. A moon that bled. And a vow whispered by something not quite human. As the city turns against them, and the dead begin to remember, Lenora and Dorian must confront the truth behind the Heartbinder rite—before love becomes the final curse.

What would you do if you chose to disappear from the world? Some say solitude would kill them. But for Maria Martinez, it was the only way to survive. High above the broken earth, in a sky-floating island of her own making, Maria lives in quiet exile; tending to a garden that blooms where nothing else does. She has no use for people and has no patience for the noise below. “Life is short,” she murmurs, brushing soil from her gloves, “but it offers more than enough.” “Mm,” a voice beside her replies, smooth and amused. “Much like me.” She doesn’t look at him. She doesn’t need to. ‘This man is insufferable,’ she thinks, already regretting the moment she let him live. __________ Author’s Note: Please, have mercy on me. Editing, proofreading, and writing are still ongoing. Thank you! __________ Disclaimer: 'Where the Sky Remembers' is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Where the Sky Remembers Copyright 2025 by Nychta All rights reserved.

By day, he teaches high school history. By night, he hunts creatures that should have been extinct centuries ago. Damian Hale leads a double life. In the classroom, he's a serious, somewhat sarcastic teacher with a reputation for loneliness. But when the sun goes down, he becomes one of the deadliest hunters in the supernatural world. What no one suspects is that he himself is a werewolf... a lycanthrope marked by a dark legacy of blood, fire, and redemption. Armed with ancient relics, gloves sealed with arcane symbols, and superhuman senses, Damian battles vampires, demons, witches, and aberrations hiding among humans. While the world ignores the hidden war raging in the shadows, he documents each mission in his personal journal... because every monster has a story, and every story is a clue... Between supernatural action, psychological horror, dark humor, and moments of raw humanity, this story will take you to the edge of what we are... and what we hide.

--- Ariana was rooted to the floor outside of Anthony’s door her heart raced in her chest, like something was preparing to break apart her ribs. She had not wanted to come to a halt, much less listen in on the conversation that was unfolding before her. But the sound of laughter that came from Rachel was not new to her ears which suddenly had her face the direction of the voice like a pupet. “…you’re so bad, Anthony,” Rachel whispered sexily. “I never lie to you,” Anthony countered sullenly then suddenly grew smarmy, “I’m only bad with you.” Reaching out Ariana braced her back against the wall and her mind whirled round with confusion. Glancing around the corner she stopped breathing as she saw them. Rachel resting on Anthony laps, having her hand resting on Anthony’s arm. He leered at her, and from even his bearing suggest that he wanted something more than friendship from her. “She has not realized it yet?” Rachel asked me in low tones as if Shareen was a hopeless case. Anthony chuckled. “He realized Ariana was smart, as well as trusting in his team. That’s her weakness.” Such words are a shock for Ariana as if someone slapped her. [His fists clenched.]His hands shook, and for a moment she considered; she felt that nausea could overcome herself. Trust. That was what she had delivered to them – what she considered they deserved. And now? Now they were laughing about it, about her . She wanted to rush into the room and meet them eye to eye, look them into the eyes and scold them for every single angry word that rises within her chest. But she didn’t move. Not yet. She held a strap of her bag so tightly her hands became gloved. Indeed, she retreated sensibly, her breathing becoming light. It was not so strange they did not notice her go ; of course they did not. Why would they, if they reckoned she did not know any better? And when she came to the door of the house, shutting herself out on the cold evening, when the wind caressed her cheek like a slate, then in her soul something leaped. The heartbreak was still there, but it was buried beneath a wave of something new,rage. But she paused and with her head held high she walked away leaving her legs give away from her. The frosty night’s darkness embraced her when she tripped outside, onto the campus and grass., but the freezing air was no match for the icy sensation in her chest. She began to ponder vigorously various questions, accusations and processes of retaliation in her mind. But she didn’t see the car. This blaring of the horn was too late. There was the pathetic squealing of brakes and a moment of unbearable agony that filled her from head to toe. The world staggered, and the last thing Ariana could make out before everything went black was the night sky above her. Everything went black. ---

Daniel, a young man who has suffered the loss of his loved ones, struggles to survive in a world that seems to be against him. After the death of his grandmother, he falls into a deep depression and loses all hope. However, his destiny changes when an old man appears before him and reveals that he is the chosen one to save World 1 from destruction caused by a demon in a few years' time. Despite doubts and fears, Daniel accepts the mission and begins his training under the tutelage of the God of Earth. As he prepares for the final battle, he meets new allies and discovers hidden abilities within himself thanks to the magical glove that God has given him. He also manages to revive his grandmother, giving him a new reason to move forward. However, not everything is easy on his path to saving the world, as Daniel faces a dark family secret that will shake his foundations and lead him to question everything he thought he knew about his life. With time running out and the demon getting closer, Daniel prepares for his ultimate destiny, facing dangers and challenges that will test his courage and determination. Will Daniel be able to save World 1 and ensure the existence of all alternative worlds?

Betrayed. Murdered. Reborn into the gilded cage that once suffocated her. Eleanor Vance had it all—wealth, status, and a name whispered with reverence on Fifth Avenue. Until her scheming stepmother and venomous stepsister stole it all, leaving her cold and broken in a back alley. But fate rewinds. She wakes up in her teenage body, back in the mansion that birthed her downfall—only this time, she remembers everything. Now armed with ruthless strategy and the bitter wisdom of betrayal, Eleanor begins a silent war behind manicured smiles and silk gloves. In a society ruled by appearances, she becomes the ultimate actress—playing the innocent heiress while dismantling her enemies piece by piece. Yet the past hides more than just treachery. A mysterious locket, a forgotten lawyer, and a legacy sealed in wax may hold the power to destroy not only her foes—but the Vance empire itself. In the world of diamonds and daggers, rebirth isn’t mercy—it’s a declaration of war.

In the neon-lit underbelly of Eastgrave City, where blood sports rule and crime syndicates thrive, one name is whispered in fear and fury—Ryder. Once the king of the underground circuit, Ryder vanished after betrayal by his own protégé—Razor, a ruthless fighter who twisted Ryder’s style into a weapon of destruction. Now, years later, Ryder is pulled back into the arena when Razor brutally injures Ryder’s younger brother in a fixed fight set up by the sinister overlord Krypton. Fueled by vengeance and haunted by his past, Ryder straps on his old gloves to tear through a web of corruption, betrayal, and bone-breaking combat. But as fists fly and bodies drop, he uncovers a deeper conspiracy—he was never just a fighter... he was part of a plan. This isn’t just a fight. This is war. No rules. No mercy. No going back.

In a world, similar to earth, with a lush planet and advanced technologies,near cyberpunk mixed with old technologies and ideologies, a millennia ago, a very Powerful god, worked hand in hand with an extremely advanced race, to combine technology and magic, making this world known as Lua, undergo changes, with 10 continents, each with its own nations, to change, people gained a system, the systems helped grant a class, some were combat, others engineer, and some everyday professions, like blacksmiths, armorers, even actors had classes be born into existence, well on year 2153, a particular short statured girl------ named Silver Hailstorm, whom just turned sixteen, the age of the system awakening and also the day she has to register her class with the kingdoms hunters association, something some dread for their weak or common class, others look forward to, but on this day, silver is treating it like any other. Working in the family owned mechanic and armor fitting shop, where most of the clientele is military vehicles, the money is decent,but not enough to help us climb the social pedigree and gain a spot in a tier 2 city. Silver is a cat girl standing at only four feet tall, making her no bigger than the dwarves, and no less aggressive as them, usually wearing her mechanic coveralls, and a black tank top, the upper part of the coveralls tied around her waist, and her over sized weilding gloves, and weilding goggles adorning the top of her hair, grease stains can be seen all over her, but uncaring to all this as she works on taking the damaged armor panels off the hover troop transport. A vehicle that has a very similar appearance to a humvee or Bear, on earth. Her Dad, Also a Cat person, here they are just known as nekos from here on thats how they will be addressed, burst through the office door into the bay while trying his best to yell over the drone of loud rock music, and the industrial grinder. "Sil!...Sil! you have to go awaken and register your system!". Barely hearing him over the noise, silver cuts the grinder off before walking over to her dad, giving a quick hug before dashing out while tossing over her reply. "thanks dad for the reminder im leaving now!" And like the neko she has always been, fast and too agile for her own good she sprints down to the office, her small size allowing her to zigzag and at times perform acrobatics to not bump into people, a feat larger people would struggle to repeat as she does, rushing to the office about half an hour away from the shop on foot. She laughs and cackles in glee and the sheer freedom and speed she is going through so much foot traffic, being a tier one city with more than twenty million people in it, theres always a lot of foot traffic.Some people who have seen her in traffic before are used to her antics while others are awestruck and surprised as she flashes by, her red pixie cute hair fluttering around her and her red and white stripped ears easily seen as she does flips and dives over people into the tiny spots in the crowd. After a near flat out run, for 15 solid minutes, making it outside the huge hunters building, where hundreds of thousands of new hunters and old are streaming in for various reasons, some are just like her here to activate the system and see what they awakened as and to register.Walking in and looking around having to hop several feet in the air a few times to survey over the crowd, in doing so drawing some attention from several groups all around wondering if she is part rabbit or something, some of the people in line in front and behind her giggle and laugh and a couple dwarves smirk as they realize what she is trying to do before she finally sees that she actually randomly selected the correct line on the first try. "phew, made it, and im not dead last, hopefully i awakened something with machines..." she says,a bit of forshadowing.

[MATURE CONTENTS, STRICTLY 18+ RATED, PREJUDICE, RACISM INJUSTICE, BL] The allure of dangerous attractions refused to be neglected, and distractions chosen to be explored can lead one into harmful patterns, entrapping him in cycles of addiction, difficult to escape. —---- In the turbulent times of the 1960s, Tommy Jones set off from his small town in Kentucky to Tennessee, instructed by his mother and the turns of life to retrieve his father's possessions, his rightful inheritance as heir to Barnaby Jones, as he was made to believe by his mother. Being denied his inheritance by his 'father's' friend, he was put to the test: "Show me you're more than just a colored kid claiming a white man's legacy. Get good grades, demonstrate your worth, and then we'll discuss your father's properties." Now, situated among all whites and being the only black student, Tommy was mocked. That's a lie! You can't be the son of a white man, talk more Sir Barnaby Jones. You're...a Negro. It's not possible! How could he get the privilege to join the great Shan'titon High School? He doesn't belong here! Just look at his skin sticking out like a sore thumb—peewww! Tommy was better off being poor yet happy with his fellow street brothers at home in Kentucky than being here among rich white kids who had nothing good to say to him. Well, except for… for one Benjamin Sherlock! Benjamin Sherlock, the devil son of a reputable man of the city, is a top senior in Shan'titon High, a gem of the school, the hottest of the school, yet the most vile! He cares less about anyone, he's known for his nasty self, wickedness, and rudeness! But does he give a damn? No! Tommy gets to know that he needs this guy to successfully get through this school, for protection and all. What's more, this guy seems to know his 'father' Barnaby Jones! He could really be of good help, but as they say, distractions and attractions can be very disadvantageous. Tommy is stuck in an entrapping master (Head Honcho) and servant (Host) relationship with Benjamin, standing as the epitome of pleasure, the giver of bittersweet addiction, and the full emblem of intimacy and lust! Tommy is caught up in this distraction in human form, and his actions stand as an attraction. Could this lead to love, or will it die as just a game? Benjamin: "Tommy Lee, the name fits you like a glove." Tommy: "How'd you figure that out, huh? That that's my whole first name, man?" Benjamin: "I know a thing or two, Kitten." Benjamin knows something Tommy should not know—about his father, about his past, his identity, and about his birth. And he is willing to hide it, or could he? Could he when his intentions are being doubted and he is being put to the test? Benjamin: "Kitty cat." Tommy: "Yeah, man?" Benjamin: "Let's say, just saying, Barnaby Jones isn't your old man. What then?" Tommy: "Lawdy, how can that be? Hahaha! If it ain't him, then who in the world would be my old man?" Benjamin: "A man with a reputation bigger than the whole dadgum state of Tennessee and Kentucky combined. Just sayin'.” (Update Time is irregular currently until further notice 2 - 5 chapters daily) A/N: Send A Message Through Reviews And Comments.

Beneath a quiet, picturesque mountain town lies a secret society — the Crimson Table — a centuries-old cult of cannibals hidden in plain sight. Every ten years, they select a "Harvest" — a group of outsiders who disappear without a trace. But this year, one of the chosen is not so easy to digest. Main Characters: Emma Voss, a forensic anthropologist drawn to the town by ancient skeletal remains found in a collapsed cave. Mayor Gideon Hurst, the charismatic leader of the town who secretly leads the Crimson Table. Noah Kade, a local hunter with a tragic past who has spent years gathering proof of the cult. Elias, a boy born into the society who begins to question everything. The bones shouldn't have been that clean. Emma Voss crouched in the shadowed cave, her gloved fingers brushing over the smooth curvature of a human femur. It was pale, polished. Not by time — by hands. Scrape marks trailed along the shaft, microscopic yet unmistakable. This was no burial site. “This doesn't look prehistoric,” she muttered, her breath fogging in the cold air. She snapped photos with her phone, each flash revealing more than she wanted to see — a partial skull with the jaw sawed clean off, ribs snapped like dry twigs. “Emma?” a voice called from outside. It was Officer Wren, the one who had guided her up here. “Sun’s going down. You might wanna pack up.” She stared deeper into the tunnel, where the air grew warmer instead of colder. A faint sound echoed — not wind, not water. A low, rhythmic thump. Like footsteps. Or drums. Emma stood. “I’ll be right there,” she lied. She followed the sound. And the mountain swallowed her whole. ---

What was supposed to be a simple school camping trip turns into something far stranger when Aiko, a cold and composed high school girl from 2025, suddenly vanishes—only to awaken on a mysterious island in the middle of the ocean. There’s no sign of rescue. No clue how she got there. And only three other people in sight. But these men are no ordinary strangers. One is a fierce Viking warrior who speaks in guttural tones of an ancient Norse tongue. Another, a proud nobleman fluent in Latin, carries himself with the rigid poise of a forgotten empire. The last, a smooth-talking gentleman from the 1900s, speaks English with a clipped, old-world accent. Aiko herself only speaks modern Japanese—yet somehow, they all understand each other perfectly. Drawn from wildly different timelines, none of them know why they’re here or who brought them. "Where is this? What trickery is this?" the Viking growled, his massive hand tightening around his axe as he scanned the unfamiliar jungle. His nostrils flared, scenting the salt-heavy air. "If this is Helheim’s gate, I’ll carve my way back." "Is this some kind of sorcery?" the nobleman mused, his gloved fingers brushing the hilt of his rapier. A smirk played on his lips. "If you sought to trap me, witch, you should have chosen a more enticing hell." His gaze flicked to Aiko, lingering on the curve of her exposed thigh. "Is this… some kind of prank?" the 1900s man stammered, adjusting his spectacles as if the world might right itself if he looked hard enough. His pocket watch clicked uselessly in his palm. "I—I was just leaving the gentlemen’s club! This isn’t—this can’t—" a Lemon filled Story. (all characters are over 18)

"LUMINOUS PLAGUE" --- PROLOGUE: They found the first one floating in the wreckage. A body—not a body—too perfect to be real. Its skin held the pallor of dead stars, its hair a nebula frozen in time. The Olgeran boarding party had been trained for corpses, for radiation scars, for the stench of void-rot. They were not trained for beauty. Commander Darr watched as his soldier reached out, gloved claws trembling. The moment flesh brushed light— The man screamed. Not in pain. In rapture. Darr’s comms erupted. Vythex scholars babbling prophecy. Zenth drones humming in unison. His own men, weeping. And then— The corpse opened its eyes. Gold. Liquid gold. Its lips parted, and the sound that came out was not a word, not a scream, but a drug. Darr’s knees hit the deck. His mind unraveled in colors he had no name for. Later, when the Triad burned the ship and scrubbed the records, they would call it "The Luminous Plague." But Darr knew the truth. Gods were real. And they were contagious. Years will go and kirk the soon to be king of Olregan, will discover the horror of gods and the distruction that they bring, the illumunios beings. ---

Abandoned at 10, he survived the streets through petty crimes, working off family debt under the Bratva’s watch. As his role in the Russian mob deepened, he hesitated during an attempted murder, caught by the feds. Prison hardened him, and on release, he fell into old habits. After a brutal gang fight, a trainer saw potential in him. Boxing became his new path, but a debut fight left him scarred. Haunted, he returns to the ring, fighting for redemption.

" I know I don't have much, Mr. Winter, but I can keep her happy. I'm graduating in a few months. I have an internship lined up. I'll work tirelessly; I can buy her anything she wants." Min-Jun paused, his gaze imploring with pain. "Please… don't hurt her feelings. She can't even handle a small pain. Right now, without me…" he trailed off, the unspoken fear hanging heavy in the air.  A cruel smirk twisted Dante's lips. "Sorry, Lee. You don't understand. I just want to end this for your good." he reached into the car's glove compartment, pulled out a blank check, and signed it. "Fill in whatever amount you think is necessary but leave my daughter alone. Do not contact her ever again." He opened his car door, the soft click echoing in the tense silence. Before stepping out, turned towards him, his expression clearly judging him. "You can't even afford her hospital bills. Just think about that check. Never angel will knock on the door twice...."  Two years later, Zara became engaged to Adam Foley, who used his wealth to pursue her obsessively. This obsession made him the most disliked person during her teenage years, yet she remained unaware that she had been dating him for years due to her amnesia. Fate takes a dramatic turn when Min-Jun becomes her new boss on the cybersecurity team and devises a plan to win her back. The obsession of two men is the dramatic clash between a forgotten love and present engaged love.

Getting run over by a firetruck was the last thing Stella expected after graduating college. But waking up after her death was something absolutely unimaginable. As if becoming a sickly side character in her roommates fantasy novel wasn't bad enough, she now has to struggle to survive the high society's drama, as well as a terrifying and obsessive male-lead who keeps breathing down her neck. *********************************** "NO! Leave me alone... please...am sorry, ple-please let me go... please Anton." I begged, trying to stop the endless stream of tears that pooled down my face. A large gloved hand gently caressed my tear-streaked cheek, then slowly pushed my chin upward till I was starring at his glowering hazel eyes. "Say it again Estella...say my name again."