Drip Goku Versus Drip Vegeta

Beneath the blood-red sky of the Dark Kingdom, a lone figure stood atop the ruins of what was once a seat of power. Rudy’s eyes burned with an intensity that sent shivers through even the most hardened warriors. None could understand how she had become this force—how the fragile girl they once betrayed had risen to command shadows and fire alike. They had killed her. King Arthro, with his cruel laughter, and Seraphin, with her blade dripping in deceit. They thought they had erased her from existence, cast her into the abyss. But Rudy had returned. And she was no longer the girl they had struck down. Whispers of her return spread like wildfire. A specter of vengeance, she dismantled her enemies with chilling precision. Every move, every fall, was by her design. But the true mystery lingered—how had she gained such power? And what price had she paid for it? In the kingdom drenched in secrets and sins, Rudy played her final hand. And this time, she would not lose.

Being abandoned by his very own blood, the world stripped him of everything, his glory, his weapon, his beloved and even his name was taken away. He tried to reclaim what were rightfully his but the people already treated him as an outcast. With nothing left to do, he strode towards the place of no return and as he reached the deepest part by accident, he found a sealed casket with an unusual question engraved on its lid. 'If the world's destruction would be put in the palm of your hand, how would it end?' Thousands of choices, hundreds of possibilities, and tens of answers, yet just one of these was certain. "I'll carve it with my enemies' blood," he uttered underneath the moonless sky. On his hand was a blade made of glass, dripping with a crimson, sticky substance. In an era where war was an everyday occurrence and death was nothing but a mere consequence of being weak, his journey towards the labyrinth of revenge had begun. - - - - - Read at least six chapters and please be prepared to crave the rest. Enjoy Reading!

As a time traveler, Karl D. Sephiroth acquired the Vampire Devil Fruit at the wrong time and place... All he wanted was to live a comfortable yet thrilling life in the chaotic world of One Piece. Morality? Justice versus evil? "The strong rule, the weak perish!" Right and wrong are determined by the victors... And as a mastermind, he has no qualms about becoming the one who dictates history! Boa Hancock, the Pirate Empress: "Sephiroth, I would do anything you desire." PS:Solely for personal interest, no commercial use intended.

EXCERPT "Do you know what I love about you, Stella?" he whispered, his voice low and dangerous as his eyes darkened with desire. Before she could respond, Simon leaned closer, his breath warm against her neck. Slowly, his fangs emerged, glinting in the dim light. His fingers traced a path along her skin, slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt, sending a shiver through her. "Those pure, innocent doe eyes of yours," he murmured, his voice almost tender, "the way they plead with me, like you think you can stop me." Panic flared in her chest, and she pressed against his firm body, trying to push him away. "Sir, please... I am married. This is wrong—it’s a sin to go after a married woman." His response was a low, rumbling chuckle that sent chills down her spine. It wasn’t just the sound of it; it was the darkness behind it. The amusement in his laughter terrified her. "And I am a sinner, my little fish," he replied, his voice dripping with menace as his eyes flashed with hunger, before sinking his fangs in her neck.

In the festering underbelly of Ironhaven, where the air itself is poison and shadows whisper of dead gods, a gutter rat named Kael commits a sin that changes everything: he steals a Shard. Not just a crystal—a sliver of a murdered deity, pulsing with venomous power that adapts. It grants him gifts but demands a price. Every five months, the Shard screams his location to the wastes, and the hunt begins. Now, marked by the Inquisition’s fire and hunted by phantoms of his past, Kael walks a razor’s edge. His allies are few: a woman with hollow eyes who's ambition and goal is unmatched, and a hound resurrected by his own tainted hands, her claws dripping soul-deep poison. But the Shard is no mere tool. It hungers. And as Kael’s alchemy of venom carves a path through enemies and allies alike, the line between savior and scourge blurs.

A kind girl falls in love with a vicious killer. Unhinged Yuri story set in Seoul. ------ “Like a prey waiting with a trap, I missed my predator. I missed her touch in the places I’ve never been touched. I wanted to hear her sing the songs that I’ve never heard.” ------ As the blood dripped off the knife she held firmly in her pale hand, I saw my reflection in the cold blade that had just taken the life of a man. I dreamed of magical moments like this every day. Something - someone to come and free me from the suffocating monotony of normalcy. She stormed into my life brandishing death, and in the moment of madness, my heart fluttered. Then she came to my place, uninvited. I treated her wounds and fed her. She slept on my couch like a cat. We started our lives together. Death bound us like the knot of tie I fixed for her as she left for work - to kill, kill, and to kill again. I spent countless nights sitting in darkness, on my couch hugging my knees, gripped with worry and excitement. I prayed for her safe return home, but I did not pray for the souls she’d be sending to hell. But she always returned, like a stray cat coming for food in the back alley behind a restaurant. I was the cook who put out the food for her, stroked her, and gave her shelter. A stray cat. A great feline predator. She was mine and mine alone. Together we laughed, alone I cried. Together we laughed, alone I cried. But I think we also loved. I think. ------ This is a dark and twisted psychological slice-of-life romantic comedy with a sprinkle of inspiration from the noir genre. If that doesn’t make sense, it’s because it doesn’t.

Shirakawa Reika, heir to a noble samurai clan, and Kisaragi Ren, a streetwise thief, were born into opposite worlds—one destined for honor, the other condemned to struggle. Their fates should never have crossed. But fate had other plans. When the Mongol Empire set its sights on Japan, all hell broke loose. The samurai, once thought invincible, were crushed beneath the might of the invaders. Reika and Ren’s paths collide within the ashes of war. Forced to rely on each other, they challenge everything they once believed—honor versus survival, discipline versus instinct. Together, they must forge a new way to fight. But as the Mongols tighten their grip, one question remains: Do they have what it takes to save their home or will they fail, and fall just like the rest?

*Some bitches are born to be queens. Others? Born to burn.* –I died a stupid, loyal wife. –I woke up a vengeful, filthy-rich queen. In my first life, I played the perfect role devoted wife, good sister, trusting best friend. They repaid me with betrayal. My husband stole my fortune. My best friend sold me out. And my step-sister? That bitch put the final knife in my back. Then they killed me. Brutally. But guess what, darlings? I came back. One year earlier. And now? It’s their turn to suffer. I’m no longer the woman they remember. The weak, soft-spoken idiot? Dead. The Valeria Devereaux standing before them? She’s dripping in wealth, power, and lethal intentions. And this time I play to win. First target? The snakes in my circle. Next? My ex-husband, Liam Whitmore. Final round? I take back my empire, my name, and their last fucking breath. But things get complicated when two men enter the game. –Rafael Kane billionaire, ruthless, and dangerously obsessed with owning me. – Dominic Moretti business rival, deadly charming, but way too soft to play my game. Both want me. Both will chase me. But I’m not here for love I’m here for blood. Let’s play, bitches. Enjoy.

Synopsis: My life was ruined in a single second. One second where I, Lana Renata, just wanted to step outside for a moment. One second where I slipped… on cat poop. And in the next second, I woke up in a world I didn’t recognize. I thought it was a dream—until I saw corpses everywhere. Elves, werewolves, and other creatures lay covered in blood. Before I could scream or run, two long-haired white elves grabbed my hands and dragged me to the wedding altar, their swords still dripping with blood. WAIT! NO!... I DON’T WANT THIS!... ((Support me and follow me on X and Instagram at 'Delilad Trenna'!))

After being rejected by her fiance at her wedding alter. Mariana was forced to accept her reality but not rather to let the day end without her getting married. so she rush out to find any random, good looking man to marry her. Please marry me, I promise to compensate you in whatever way I can," Marina said to the man staring at her with confidence. "Alright, I will." After the wedding, "I want to get a divorce. Let me go Aiden."  "No, you are my compensation for marrying you," Aiden remarked, on his lips hanging a cocky smile.

God was creating a legendary tale! First, it needed a bit of faith to create a leader for people; then add some man-eating demons to make people fight. Throw in some love... and a bit of hatred, rebellion, and impulsiveness. Finally, add a well-known protagonist with a slightly scheming personality. Otherwise, it would be boring. D*mn... that's too much! In a small alley on the streets of London, Sherlock slowly emerged from the shadows, carrying a head. Blood dripped from his spine onto the ground. Very well, the murderer had been dealt with. The next challenge was proving that the murderer was indeed the murderer.

Han Ye crossed into the world of a fantasy cultivation epoch, transmigrating into a tenant farmer in Langlang Village. Believing he was doomed to live his life in toil and hardship, he accidentally awakened a destiny called "Accumulated Attributes Released at Once". "Accumulated Attributes Released at Once": Not unlike how constant dripping wears away a stone, or how hard frost forms at three feet not overnight, it allows one to accumulate the attributes of others. Remaining quiet until the moment you choose to release it, one can then shock everyone with their power. In Langlang Village, he worked alongside farmers, and secretly listened to lectures in private schools. "Strength of an Ox +1" "Slightly Versed in Literature and Ink +1" In the Sect's Grand Competition, disciples compete and are selected through observation. "Fire Spiritual Root +1" "Sword Heart Clarity +1" With such assistance, hope ignited within Han Ye. He steadily developed, diligently accumulated attributes and improved his strength to allow himself to transform, growing stronger in silence. That year, the gears of fate began to turn. No one expected that the tranquil world of immortal cultivators, which had remained peaceful for ten thousand years, would begin to descend into chaos! As the Heavens collapsed, the great powers emerged; immortals descended, sparking a war between the righteous and the demonic. No one could have imagined that a humble tenant farmer from those years past could rise to become Han the Respected One, feared by the world.

Gie—born Gertrude to a legacy of royal jewelers—has never needed the spotlight. Her masterpieces have adorned queens, singers, and socialites, but her face remains a mystery. Reserved, brilliant, and obsessively devoted to her craft, she lives for the art of creation. But when a special commission comes from billionaire Alexander Millers—a dangerously magnetic man known for his empire in the adult industry and his playboy reputation—Gie finds herself unraveling. His requests are luxurious, precise, and dripping in silent power. She’s never met him, but designing for him becomes intoxicating… and maddening. Alexander has everything—wealth, infamy, women, and control. But what he craves is something he’s never had: touch that doesn’t repulse him, intimacy that doesn’t feel like a performance. When he meets Gie, the woman behind the jewelry that clings to his skin, something shifts. She's unlike any woman he's ever known—brilliant, stunning, untouchable. As desire coils between them in ways neither can resist nor define, they enter a dangerous game of seduction, power, and possession. But love doesn’t play by the rules… especially when the one thing they fear most is each other. As all my novel, please this is rated r. Do not read if you're 17 and below.

Priest Alexander, how good is your printing? Princess Vivian said seductively with only a piece of white clothing that covered little to none of her sinful body. Alexander was shocked by the sight in front of him, looking at the woman who was one of the most beautiful, No! She’s the most beautiful woman in the Empire, but because she never made an attempt to dress up so nobody has ever seen her shine this brightly. Now looking at her with water dripping from her body like the sea pearl, her flamboyant red hair like that of burning fire, and her perfectly seductive body still wet and still carrying the freshness of a rose petals shower. Looking at the way she is wet from head to toe with the room filled with the scent of rose with water dripping from her body, gives a kind of allure that makes it hard for any man to resist her. She’s currently looking like a seductress, No!, She’s a seductress because she’s currently doing what is seductress does, seducing a priest. Vivian had an heart disease since the day she was born, since she was young, she spent most of her life lying on the hospital bed, denying her the joy of living like every other normal child. The only way for her to escape the reality that haunts her and the pain she goes through is by reading novels, watching movies, and following celebrity gossip on social media, but what becomes of Vivian when she suddenly dies from over-excitement and is transmigrated into a novel as her favorite character who was the villainess, and probably the most naïve and innocent villainess ever.

NEW CHAPTER RELEASE EVERY DAY FROM THE START OF NEXT MONTH. ××× It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned. When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation. “Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac. “Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.” Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier. But vengeance turns slippery when every insult she hisses ignites his obsession, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more." The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?

Have you ever felt the world press down on you, so heavy, so absolute, that you weren’t sure if you were breathing anymore? Have you ever woken up and felt the air wasn’t right, that something was in the walls, watching, waiting? Have you ever set something in motion and known, with absolute certainty, that you could never take it back? The match flares. The blood drips. The body gives. The ritual is complete. And something—someone—answers. A thing that should not be. A thing that should not have heard her. A thing that is here now, breathing, waiting, smiling. She has always been alone. But not anymore. Not anymore.

As dawn broke, the golden sun emerged from the east, pushing back the darkness. On a small hill near Limart, a young boy stood beneath an old tree, training intensely with his sword. Sweat dripped from his brow as he swung the blade with all his might. His dark hair, pale skin, and golden eyes gave him a striking presence. As the sunlight gradually reached his figure, he paused his training, resting his sword on his shoulder while gazing at the vast Great Therondia forest in the distance. "Whew… This view is the best." At that moment, an elderly man stepped out of the house nearby and called out. "Son, if you’re done training, come and eat breakfast." "Got it, Grandpa. I’ll be there soon." "Alright, don’t take too long. The food will get cold." The boy stopped admiring the scenery, walked over to the old tree, and grabbed a cloth he had set aside. Wiping his sweat, he headed toward the house and placed his sword on a corner of the door before stepping inside. --- This marked the beginning of the journey of a boy destined to bring light into the age of darkness—the disciple of the great wizard Merlin the Gray, and the one who would claim the hero role in the legends of the future… Arthur Rowan.

1,000 Years Ago... The Earth was shaken and evolved into a much more dangerous Place. The Earth got larger by twice its size, but the Portals suddenly appeared in front of the Human Being that reduced their Population to 40% left, but hope was almost lost. They have been granted one more time to survive, a System was brought to everyone that they can use to evolve and get stronger. A Hero suddenly came upon them that slaughtered all of the Monsters that came out of the Portal. She was then given the title, "The Primordial Goddess of Death". She was given that title as no one knew her face or name, the only thing that they remember about her is her Dazzling Black hair that was dancing through the wind as she kills all the monsters, while her Scythe was dripping with Blood. 1,000 years have passed since, and new Heroes were born because of the Prestigious School that helps students to become Aspiring Hero just like "The Primordial Goddess of Death". "Ahhh... I'm bored as hell, should I go into one of my Academies and be a teacher?" A.N Sorry for the inconvenience, I might actually add Romance to the story, but that would probably in the middle part of the Story. Cover Art is not mine, if the artist want me to remove it he/she can message me.

In the distant Eldrathis Galaxy, a vast and uncharted frontier teeming with ancient ruins and deadly secrets, humanity is a small fish in an ocean of monsters. But that doesn’t stop treasure hunters like Clara Dravenmoor, a brilliant and reckless archaeologist, and the Safira's crew, from chasing lost relics buried in the void. Her latest mission? Recovering a priceless artifact from the ruins of Zhaaros, a hostile planet plagued by nomadic warlords and nightmarish creatures. But what she finds isn’t just a relic. It’s him. A pale, otherworldly man, locked away for centuries in a high-tech sarcophagus, covered in mystical markings and dripping with an aura of power that defies reality. He looks confused. No memories. No idea why he was trapped there. But he doesn't look angry. He looks eager. Excited to follow Clara in the Safira through the vast and magnificent galaxy.

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT!Ahmet's laughter was like a slap in the face. "You think you're in a position to negotiate with me?" he sneered. "I don't think so, Asli. You'll do what I say, or suffer the consequences. Do you want more time to outsmart me? No.” She could play his game. She certainly could do that before she finally killed him. A mischievous grin formed on her lips. "What would you gain from sleeping with me?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral. "You're not exactly known for your romantic conquests. And we're rivals, not to mention the fact that our families would kill us if they found out." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "So, what's the real motive here? What could you possibly gain from this?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Asli wondered if she had caught him off guard. But then, Ahmet's smooth voice came back, dripping with confidence. "I’m glad to know you are well-informed about my romantic conquests. Let's just say, Asli, that I have my reasons. And as for what I'd gain… well, that's for me to know and you to find out." His tone sent a shiver down her spine, and she knew she had to tread carefully. She wasn’t going to win this against him. “Show me what proof you have and I will give in to your demands.” With that, she hung up the call, feeling a small sense of satisfaction at being the one to end the conversation this time. She was the only woman in the male-dominated Mafia world. Did he think he could subdue her so easily?

Cradled by self-ness, a new-born God came forth. The god, perceived as a phantom, wept as tears dripped across the waters. Thus came about its phantom heart. The weeping spirit, a solitary, god that could create anything with its right mind. However, there lay a message that told it one thing; Kill the Light. An unease built inside its heart. A dead thing, not even an echo that reached any god, nor creature alive. If not, then what was the God meant for? What else was needed of him? Thus, he wandered, days upon days, until he met a single, decrepit woman. The first contact he had since over a thousand years. -------- Discord: discord.gg/7NcJYeTUbV

The air in my chocolate lab still smells like cocoa and regret. I’d spent years perfecting single-origin truffles, roasting beans until they gleamed like obsidian, and stashing Bitcoin profits in a wallet I’d named “Cocoa Reserve.” That wallet held $265,000, a golden ticket to expand my empire with a flagship store in Brussels. And then, with one click on a spoofed bill labeled "Belgian Chocolate Molds – Urgent Payment," my crypto was gone faster than a caramel drip on a hotplate. The swindle was a masterclass of nastiness. Contact WhatsApp: +1 (443) 859 - 2886 Email @ digitaltechguard.com Telegram: digitaltechguard.com Website link: digitaltechguard.com The email mimicked my actual supplier's fonts, logos, even their typo-ridden English ("Kindly proceed the transfer immediately"). I'd been fooled by digital drag-and-drop. My heart sank as I watched the transaction confirmation flash tauntingly on-screen a spinning wheel of death where my life's work once dwelled. My accountant hyperventilated into a bag of cocoa nibs. My CFO threatened to "quit and become a beekeeper." And me? I stared into the blockchain explorer, tracing my Bitcoin's path through a hydra of mixers and offshore wallets, each one a nail in my entrepreneurial coffin. A midnight Slack rant in a food founders' group summoned a lifeline: Digital Tech Guard Recovery. Their name materialized between messages about shelf-stable ganache and FDA audits. Skeptical but spiraling, I slid into their DMs like a kid begging for a Halloween candy refill. Within hours, their team examined the theft with the finesse of a chocolatier tempering couverture. They tracked the scammer's twisting layers of fake KYC docs, Malta shell companies, and a Cypriot payment processor fishier than a truffle oil factory. Digital's forensic team became my avengers in hoodies. They collaborated with regulators from four countries, subpoenaing exchanges and freezing accounts mid-launder. The scammers, it turned out, had gotten greedy, siphoning funds into a stable coin wallet that had been flagged for "excessive hot sauce purchases" (no, really). Thirteen days later, I received a PDF titled "Recovery Complete" and a screenshot of my recovered wallet. No fanfare, no blare of trumpet, just the subdued hum of justice served cold, like a dark chocolate gelato. Digital Tech Guard Recovery not only saved my nest egg; they unraveled a fraud ring that is now in Interpol's sights. My Brussels boutique opens next spring, its safes guarded by triple-authentication and a paranoia so thick you could cut it into bonbons. I've even added a company motto: "Trust no one especially if they claim to sell Belgian molds." If your crypto dissolves into the digital ether, skip the panic attack. Call the Digital. They're the magic between catastrophe and resiliency. Just maybe screen your vendors twice, and keep the cocoa nibs handy for emergencies.

In one swift motion, he caught her by the neck, his grip unyielding. Lara snarled and thrashed, but Killian’s strength was overwhelming. “You foolish, useless wolf,” Killian growled, his voice dripping with disdain. “You think you can defy me and live?” With a cruel smile, he threw Lara against a nearby tree, the impact shaking the ground beneath us. Pain tore through me as I felt every blow she endured. Lara tried to stand, but Killian’s foot pressed down on her, pinning her to the ground. “You’ll learn your place,” he hissed. “Both of you.” My body began to shift again, the pain unbearable as Lara was forced back, and I returned to my human form. Lying on the ground, broken and bleeding, I looked up at him with all the hatred I could muster. “I hate you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Killian’s expression didn’t change. And then, darkness consumed me.

In the kingdom of Valnaria, where humans and werewolves coexist, a fragile peace is threatened. A young hybrid finds himself at the center of a deadly struggle for power, where allegiances are tested and secrets are revealed. Standing shrouded in complete darkness, a lone figure stood, blood dripping from his already shredded clothes . His eyes looked different, something felt wrong and even the air around him began to ripple . Piercing red eyes looked at the sight Infront of him , the room slowly dropping in temperature. A low husky voice filtered through the shadows "I will show you the true meaning of fear."

Nour is a high school student trapped in an internal conflict he doesn't fully understand. Strange thoughts cross his mind, and his emotions grow more complicated with each passing day. Torn between running from himself and facing the truth, he struggles with what he feels versus what he thinks he should be. In a journey full of questions and self-discovery, Nour realizes that identity isn't always clear-and some battles are not easily won

Darkness hums lullabies in the dead of night, shadows dance where the walls should be. Footsteps echo, but no one walks, whispers breathe secrets only she can see. Blood drips like rain in her waking dreams, cold fingers trace the curve of her spine. Their eyes—silent, endless, hungry— watch her unravel, thought by thought, time after time. She runs. They follow. She screams. They laugh. She wakes, but the nightmare lingers— etched in crimson beneath her nails. They ask what she knows. She asks who she is. And somewhere in the silence, the truth watches… waiting to be seen. Shh… Don’t let them know.

Synopsis: "Tell me, Father, do you truly believe your God listens when you pray… or does He turn His ear away, knowing you already belong to me?" Father Andrien was a man of God—once. His faith was unwavering, his prayers unbroken, his soul unstained. Until the night he sinned. No one knew. No one saw. But he did. The stranger arrived at dusk, stepping into the dim candlelight of the chapel like he belonged there. Lucian. A name that dripped from his lips like an old hymn, his presence as familiar as the silence before a storm. "You called for me once, Father. Have you forgotten?" Andrien doesn’t remember. But the shadows do. The stones beneath his feet hum with the echoes of a prayer he was never meant to speak. A desperate plea made in the throes of grief, whispered to something that was listening. Now, the price must be paid. The holy water curdles at his touch. His rosary tightens around his throat. The walls of the church whisper his name in voices not of this world. And Lucian—Lucian watches. "You wear His cross, but your soul was promised to me. Shall we collect what was left unfinished?" A prophecy lost to time. A sin buried in blood. And a man of faith who prayed to the wrong god. The devil does not forget.

Here’s a potential synopsis for your story: "Milo Winter, an independent artist with a passion for creating, steps into the high-stakes world of Victor Kingsley, a ruthless businessman who sees art as just another commodity. When Milo rejects Victor's offer of fame and fortune in exchange for creative control, he finds himself locked in a battle of integrity versus power. As Milo fights to protect his art and his identity, he must navigate the dangerous game of ambition and influence, proving that true artistry cannot be bought or sold. Would they fall apart or end up together..stay tuned."

Mil would paint pretty lines on a blank canvas, for by the time the paint drips down and faids, time would have automatically healed her. Between this time she would ask herself, "Can't a woman love a man platonically? Or a woman love a woman romantically?" Mil's second year of high school with her friend Jabira was boring yet feasible. However, when one day she meets a classmate in a wedding and finds out their parents know each other, things start to take a turn! The only thing that doesn't change is Mil's and Jabira's humor... "If we were a comedic duo, what would our name be?" "Jabira... Mil.... Ja... il...Jail!" Silence mushroomed over the two.