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Fictional Yosemite Falls

Fiction Weaver

Jason Carter always believed he was destined for mediocrity. His death was as unremarkable as his life—a freak accident that left no mark behind. But death is only the beginning. Jason awakens in a futuristic universe brimming with colossal megacities, interstellar travel, and worlds dominated by beings with superpowers, or Aspects. From the fiery strength of Solar Titans to the mind-bending abilities of Cerebrants, every individual is born with an Aspect—a manifestation of their core essence. In this world, power determines your worth. The weak are crushed. The strong rise to rule. Jason soon discovers that he, too, has an Aspect. But it’s not what anyone expects. Unlike most, Jason’s ability defies logic and categorization. It allows him to mimic and evolve the powers of beings he knew were fictional. Thrust into the harsh arena of survival, where warlords, bounty hunters, and galactic tyrants vie for supremacy, Jason quickly realizes that knowledge is power, and power is survival. As he carves a name for himself, Jason begins to uncover chilling truths about the origin of the Aspects and the universe itself. Each power has a price and the collectors were watching, waiting. With the fate of countless worlds hanging in the balance, Jason must rise beyond his limits and become something far more than a man with a stolen power. He must become the Ascendant, a force strong enough to challenge gods themselves. But in a universe built on power, Jason knows one truth above all: "Adapt. Survive. Conquer."
Charlie_Sowern · 1.5K Views

When darkness falls in love

Excerpt* As Cian removed his jacket, revealing a serpent-like tattoo on his chest, a chill ran down her spine. “Who sent you?” she asked, her voice quivering as she clutched the sheets tightly around her. Cian smirked, “Which insignificant creature would dare to command me?” Confused, she glanced at the doors, praying for someone to walk in and save her from this dangerous stranger. “Then why are you here?” she managed to ask, her heart pounding in her chest. Cian casually tossed his jacket onto the nearest chair, revealing his muscular chest and the glowing, serpent-like tattoo that coiled around it. “For you, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice deep and seductive. She stared into his piercing, emerald-green eyes, awed by their luminescence. They seemed to pierce right through her, illuminating her heart and igniting a fire within her that she couldn’t quite extinguish. As Cian moved closer, he bent down to look her directly in the eyes, his gaze penetrating. “Marry me,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. She recoiled in horror, pushing his hand away as she tried to back away from him. “Pardon me, my Lord, but I must refuse your offer,” she said, her voice shaking with fear. Cian let out a low, sinister laugh as he pulled off his shirt, revealing the full extent of the tattoo that seemed to writhe and twist on his skin. He crawled onto the bed, pinning her down as he loomed over her. She struggled against him, trying to break free from his grip, but he was too strong. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered, “Sweetheart, what is mine is mine, and what is yours is mine.” “She froze, her heart racing as she realized the danger she was in and how ridiculously aroused she was getting. Cian, with his piercing gaze and devilish grin, knew exactly what he was doing.
Love_chi_24 · 10.4K Views

God Of Fiction: The Faceless One

Gray World is dominated by the will of Gods and thrives under the control of iron gears and steam. It is a place where faith is not a passive devotion but a currency—traded, bought, and sold by churches that wield their gods' influence as weapons. It is a place where value is absolute, value is everything, shaping every belief and controlling every life. Run by ironclad reign of Church of Steel, every life here reeks of smoke and decay, while the Church of Sacrifice whispers promises of salvation through pain and sacrifice. Yet, amidst this ever existing Gods of sacrifice, iron, and decay, a new God descends—one who was once known as The Faceless One, God of Confusion, Keeper of secrets, Messiah of messengers by en masse: the God of Fiction. God of Fiction, Ashur, reincarnates after dying by the wiles of God of Sacrifice and others. Unlike other gods, Ashur, does not demand worship through suffering or material devotion. Instead, he brings something far more dangerous: the ability to weave fantasies into existence, to blur the line between fiction and reality. "Is fiction not a truth waiting to be realized?" Whispers spread among the people—rumors of a church that doesn't preach, of a god who offers not suffering but something far more seductive: choice. They speak of dreams too vivid to be mere illusions and realities that seem to bend to their imaginations. What is fiction, if not another form of reality? When the masses begin to believe, does belief not shape the world itself? As his own proclamation goes— [To not exist does not mean one truly does not exist, for to be known is also a form of existence.] ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ [This book has been dropped] [If you want to read something after it, I would recommend, “Death Game: Beyond Reality“]
_Darker_Than_Black · 55.1K Views

When Killer falls in Love (bl)

Leo had been living a peaceful life when, suddenly, his tranquility was shattered by his haunting past. Someone he thought he'd escaped, someone he believed was behind him for good, was now chasing him once more. This time, no matter where Leo ran or hid, the person was relentless—coming for him. ..... Leo’s skin crawled under the touch, his breath shallow as he forced himself to speak. “Stop.” The figure’s eyes flashed with something dark, something possessive. “Stop?” he repeated, his voice a low whisper, like a soft hum in Leo’s ear. “You don’t really want me to stop.” Leo’s heart pounded, his vision blurring at the edges. “I’m not—” His voice broke, and he clenched his jaw, trying to pull himself together. “I’m not the same person you knew.” The figure’s smile returned, colder now, more menacing. “Neither am I.” Before Leo could react, the figure’s hand wrapped around his wrist, gripping tightly, pulling him closer. Leo gasped, his body stiffening as he was yanked forward, their faces now inches apart. He could feel the figure’s breath on his skin, cold and unsettling, his eyes burning into him with an intensity that made Leo’s stomach twist. “What do you want from me?” Leo’s voice wavered, his chest tightening as the reality of the situation settled in. The figure’s lips curled into a smirk, his grip tightening. “I want you to remember. I want you to feel what you’ve tried to forget.” Leo’s mind raced, his thoughts scrambling for a way out. But before he could say anything, the figure’s hand slid from his wrist to the back of his neck, pulling him in sharply. Their lips collided, a hard, forceful kiss that sent a shock through Leo’s entire body. Leo’s breath hitched, his mind screaming in protest, but his body was frozen, trapped in the overwhelming force of the moment. The figure’s grip tightened, his kiss rough, claiming, as if trying to erase every part of Leo that had moved on, every part that had healed.
Lora01111 · 2.5K Views
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