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The sun is not rising. My desolation is born. The moon does not shine through the darkness. A pair of green eyes shine in my darkness and burn my heart to ashes. I didn't know love was so painful before I met you. Tell me, will the sun rise for both of us one day? Will the sun rise in both of us one day? Tell me, who am I? Am I the victim? Or am I the murderer? The sun is not rising, Soldier. And I'm afraid of the dark. But I promise you that one day I will pierce this darkness with the burning bodies of those who destroyed me. The sun will not rise, doomsday will come. I will still look for you everywhere. Because there is only one truth in my heart. Even if I can never see the sun, I will never give up on you.

A man is curses to wander with a barrel of adult comic books, soon he finds that he can help others with his companions abilities, a surprisingly wholesome tale. note, I tend to do shorter chapters, it's just how I'm used to doing them.

FIRST BOOK A little orphan girl who lives in the Barrel Zone, a place where slaves and criminals reside. «A dystopian theme story about an orphan girl who's looking for her real self while fighting against people in power» WARNING ⟩ Includes Graphic words ⟩ Bullying ⟩ Weapons ⟩ Gore Author Notes: This story is only fiction only, and not factual. It cannot apply in real life. Visit Wattpad and search "Pink Punk" for latest updates Will update once a week! Pardon my English! Have fun reading

Three years ago they put Gareth Winter in the ground with no body and no mercy. Tonight the grave spits him back out, covered in dirt and gunpowder. One bullet left in the chamber. One name at the top of the list: the man who now sleeps at 10 Downing Street. One USB that can collapse the City of London in a single heartbeat. They turned him into a ghost. He’s about to become their apocalypse. In the next 72 hours, billions will vanish, towers will burn, and the most powerful men in Britain will beg on their knees for a death that never comes. Because the wolf doesn’t just bite. He tears the throat out of empires. This is not revenge. This is extinction. THE WOLF OF BISHOPSGATE Run. Or kneel.

what could possibly be waiting for release in 2094....

Belle is any normal 17 years old. She has friends, goes to the movies, and goes to school. What most people don't know though is that she is also BP or Bloody Princess. Second in command for the Black Widow Gang. But being in a gang is a full-time job and what happens when both job and school start to mix together? What can she do?

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Destroy what stands to my part of greatness. I'm just a lazy boy who wants to leave a lazy life, disturb my peace, I year you to pieces. I am the one "The Devil" fears. I am Death's substitute. Join me on the journey of my lazy life and see how I year down my enemies

From a windless crater on Helgrind, a hammer not of this world is found. It answers only to truth—and every strike costs a memory. Asgrim, a fjord-born protector, refuses the easy road to godhood. While the White Jarl spreads the Great Quiet—a lattice of hush that eats wind, warning, and song—Asgrim learns to spend smaller: recalls on invisible rails, storm tethers, and shields that orbit like moons. With shipwright Ash, spear-brother Fen, and sea-witch Ylva, he turns work and chorus into counter-magic. When the Grand Bell is hauled to the capital to smother an entire city, Asgrim stakes everything on a single oath: he will break the Quiet—and pay the price up front. With a one-use rift-hook and a craftsman’s patience, he cuts the bell’s silence-skin and hammers the wound open. Breath returns. Ovens bark. Laughter carries. Victory isn’t free. His own name won’t stick in his mouth; the community holds it for him, carving it into wood and speaking it at dawn. What remains is wrong thunder—low, humble, and his—kept for harbors, not crowns. A Norse-flavored, low-magic epic about voice versus control, power as debt (not a crown), and a found family who choose craft over spectacle. City-saving stakes, tactical combat, oath-driven magic, and an ending that trades glory for usefulness.

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