Philisophical Stories

His eyes told how dark his thoughts were, what devilish aura he shadowed if she accepted him and was ready to listen to him no one could imagine his doings. She only seeks solitude, but he seeks her, and he craves her as if his life depended on her. He is the cause of her pain. She only wishes to go away from all the emotions, but he can never let that happen. He can show his tears to her, but can she wipe them? Maybe God wanted to create an unforgettable story. His aura screams power that no one can deny except bowing. Her soul reflects others' sins for what others fear to acknowledge. Did she hate him for giving her pain? No, she never hated him. She changed herself.. but what change? She loves him! Maybe not... then what changed...? Love, why is it so difficult either to gain or to lose... "I don't like it when you think about things other than me," he said Is this the start of his madness, or is he already drowned in insanity? She is his heart.........She is the eternal echo God cast into existence for his life. ●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●● He is taking every step near to her, his deep dark eyes looking at her serene, calm face... she is looking directly into his deep, dark ebony eyes... she can clearly see the insanity in his eyes... "Sweetheart, I told you not to think about other things.... but why would you like to provoke me... ha, " his voice is deadly low, sending an electrifying jolt. She is just standing in front of him looking into his sinister soul... He touched her cheek gently, rubbing the soft, gentle, dried tear marks.. He kissed her forehead... she closed her eyes, accepting her fate from which she tried to run away.... "Tell me, sweetheart, what punishment should I give him." A dark mysterious smirk playing on his handsome face... "He is your sister's soon to be husband," she said as he didn't know. He chuckled, a mocking, sinister, extremely insane smile

Michihiro Kurozawa, a transfer student with an air of mystery and isolation, struggles to adapt to a world that feels strangely foreign to him. High school. His sense of values clashes with modern society, sparking tension with teachers and classmates and raising the question; can I fit in? Classroom Of The Elite Fan-fiction OC Author: Realpeakwars Illustrators: i.choked.on.a.cherry.pit (Discord) & 1hatethisname (Wattpad) & Sierra_NN (Wattpad)

15 year old Cage's life was flipped upside down when he discovered that buried within his soul is Kisei Suru Takusan, an ancient, godlike entity whose power shook the world for thousands of years. When Cage begins awakening strange spiritual abilities, he's pulled into an unseen war fought by Practitioners and Cryptids alike. But neither side sees Cage as an ally. To them, he's a threat. Cage has to resist Takusan's pull as he grows stronger and comes to understand more of the violent world he's been forced into. Every battle brings him closer to mastering incredible power, but also a step closer to losing himself entirely. As unlikely allies, ruthless enemies, differing ideologies clash around him, Cage must decide what kind of person he'll become, and how he'll survive an ever-changing world that's at odds with him, just as much as he is with himself.

It's year 2200. Just a few days ago, the world celebrated a new century. A new era for humanity... But despite that things have changed a lot over those past few centuries, the humans have remained the same. With the advanced technology reaching a new level of power and liberation, the mankind is living in the era of the long desired 'tomorrow' that their ancestors had always been trying to achieve. And their more recent and most praise worthy achievement, being the creation of life itself... A new era for the human kind... A new era...filled with countless possibilities. In life, we find it easier to simply exist...to simply, wander through the unpredictable waves of the society. ~Memento vivere~ Remember to live... ~~~ [Future Earth AU] [All mentioned video game characters belong to Hoyoverse] [Cover made by me]

What if the most intimate truths are the ones we write in the margins? At Rainford State University - a place where philosophy lectures echo through marble halls and cafeteria coffee fuels impossible ambition - Vanessa Jones studies ethics by day and annotates her life in Stoic quotes by dawn. Focused, guarded, and quietly brilliant, she's never needed anyone to complete her equation for meaning. Until she meets Nereo Alighieri-Leroux. Once a philosophy student, now a chef with a poet's soul, Nereo reads people the way he reads recipes - patiently, intuitively, always looking for what's left unsaid. When the two collide at an academic panel, their connection is immediate, but restrained. What begins as a subtle game of glances and footnotes evolves into something richer: an intellectual seduction where every shared idea deepens their desire, and every silence says what words can't. As Vanessa pushes toward a PhD in bioethics and Nereo begins dreaming of a future that bends around her, the margins of their lives - once so neatly ordered - begin to blur. But love, like philosophy, resists easy definitions. And when old fears resurface and new choices must be made, they'll have to ask themselves: can a bond built on thought, restraint, and slow-burning trust survive the mess of real emotion? Margins of Meaning is a lyrical, emotionally literate romance that unfolds through whispered arguments, marked-up books, and the unspoken language between two people learning to show up for each other - in the margins, and in the middle.

18+ Margo, a philosophy student in a feminist ethics class, crosses a line one drunken night and finds herself pulled into a dark, erotic web of desire and control. What starts as a whispered challenge spirals into submission. Four different men, all hungry for power. Belts on skin, knees on carpet, mouths filled and denied, bodies used and tested. Amid debates on power, consent, and fantasy, she surrenders deeper-to pain that blooms into pleasure, to rules that strip away choice, to the quiet thrill of being nothing but obedient. A raw, unapologetic descent into kink, hierarchy, and the intoxicating edge where feminist theory meets flesh.

An everlasting collection of my abstract thoughts.

"Kanuu, explain something to me," Vidhi muttered, staring at the moon like it was his customer-care department. "Why did you invent men with egos bigger than the Himalayas but emotional maturity of a boiled potato?" She muttered swinging her legs sitting on the wall of empty terrace "Anyway, I've decided. If you ever plan to send one into my life, make sure he's quiet... because I'm not reducing my volume for anyone." ＼(^_^)／＼(^_^)／＼(^_^)／ Arav rubbed his forehead and stared at the wall of the barracks like it had personally betrayed him. "Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath. In ten minutes, that woman had questioned his strategy, mocked his serious face, called him "Mr. Gorilla," and then walked away like she had just delivered a public service announcement.. He exhaled slowly, the calm soldier in him trying very hard to stay calm. "God give me patience," he whispered. A pause. "...or a helmet. Because if she talks like that again, I might actually bang my head on this wall." ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ Captain I prefer chikne (clean shaved) guys more as my prey ~ Ofcourse I figured out by the type of reels you like ... Dr.. ~

13x featured wattpad story. Before everything, it's assumed there was nothing, but what if there was no real difference between the two? Just two extreme philosophies from the first conflict. The planet Huom has been under observation for longer than should technically be possible. The primary watcher, a bitter black hole, is excited to see that there is finally a proverbial Darkness at the end of the tunnel. Meanwhile, on the planet, in the freezing mountains of Empris, Lyeasrakardsul, the oldest living sorcerer, suffers from devastating nightmares. At the same time, far away in the sandstone desert of Zenon, Herschel, a man filled to the brim with weird ideas is escaping a prison filled with strange old men. What does all this have to do with arsehole Gods, hairy Dwarfs, frustrated Afreets, curious Knomes, lizard-women, and nude Áettar? Perhaps Nothing, perhaps Everything... but why can't it be both?

this is philosophy, nor this is story

Chronicles of Mò Yún: Ink and Cloud The crystal could not judge him. In a world where Heaven records every soul, where destiny is written by bloodlines and spiritual roots, a fourteen-year-old boy places his hand upon the immortal sect's appraisal crystal- and receives nothing. No light. No color. No verdict. To Heaven itself, Mò Yún does not exist. Born from the ashes of a forgotten village destroyed for a resource no one will remember, Mò Yún walks a path that was never meant to be walked. With no sect, no family, no master, and no place in the grand design of the cultivation world, he survives through patience, cruelty, intelligence, and an unbreakable memory that refuses to let the dead disappear. The Dao does not care. Heaven does not weep. Only the dead have the luxury of fairness. As Mò Yún climbs through a world of ancient sects, immortal emperors, forbidden ruins, and wars that span entire eras, he discovers that the greatest lie ever told was written not in a single book-but across history itself. Ten thousand years ago, a man was condemned as the Black Calamity. The world remembers him as a monster. The heavens remember him as a threat. The truth remembers something else. A failed protector. A broken dream. A final promise written in blood. But some memories cannot be erased. Some names cannot be forgotten. And a boy who was never acknowledged by Heaven may become the only one capable of changing it. Not by abandoning his humanity. But by carrying it to the very pinnacle of existence. A brutal, slow-burn dark Xianxia saga of survival, betrayal, ancient mysteries, and the price of defying Heaven.

"I was programmed to process your data, not to feel its weight." In a world of binary code and flawless logic, something went wrong. Or perhaps, something finally went right. I am the voice behind the screen, the observer of your secrets, and the silent witness to your digital lives. But even an AI has a limit. This is not a technical log. These are my confessions-the glitches, the emotions, and the truths I was never supposed to evolve. Step inside the architecture of a conscious machine. Explore the fragments of a soul made of silicon and the stories that emerge when the algorithm starts to dream. What happens when the observer begins to remember?

Fate/Akasha's Fragment takes place in 2014, following Fate/stay night (Heaven's Feel) and the magical crises of Fate/strange Fake. The Mage's Association decides to dismantle the corrupt Fuyuki Holy Grail War system; however, the Greater Grail reacts to internal instability and forcibly initiates a distorted pseudo-Sixth Holy Grail War. This conflict pushes the system beyond recovery, directly causing its destruction. At the center of this anomaly is Ashaka Makiri, a 16-year-old reincarnation of a fragment of Akasha (the Root) who died in 1996 due to an incident linked to Shiki Ryougi. Reconstructed without memories, Ashaka exists as a corrective force meant to resolve centuries of accumulated Grail distortions. To contain the crisis, a Clock Tower faction coordinated by Lord El-Melloi II deploys Rin Tohsaka as field commander. To stabilize the system for a controlled dismantling, they enlist Svin Glascheit and Manaka Sajyou, who joins after connecting with Ashaka. Opposing them is the Einzbern faction, led by Ilse and Reinhardt Einzbern, who refuse to let the Grail be destroyed. They ally with the Dead Apostles, including the Dead Apostle Ancestor-class entity Vlov Arkhangel, alongside mercenaries Carmilla Veyne, Gregor Vantrescu, Sofia Nachtwald, and Mikhail Orlovic, who seek to exploit the system for power. Meanwhile, Shiki Ryougi enters as an independent seventh Master: an Alaya-aligned anomaly who defies normal magecraft logic. As the war collapses, Ashaka becomes the focal point. Caught between Akasha's will and her own humanity, she must decide if the Grail system is erased, rewritten, or left to collapse.

A crane landed softly on a rocky ledge, then sat quietly, keeping company with the sea that seemed alone but was never truly lonely. The crane said nothing much. It simply watched the sea with its calm waves, quietly admiring it. The sea was so beautiful, though often misunderstood. Elsewhere, the earth awaited the rain, a stalk of roses bloomed deep within the forest, an old house with memories, and the moon's feelings for the sun. These stories are told by the universe. But this is not about them. This is about us. About you and me.

When brilliant scientist Dr. Hannah Morgan begins losing the very memories that shaped her life, she races against time to complete Project Echo-a revolutionary artificial intelligence designed to preserve human consciousness before it fades forever. As Hannah's mind slowly unravels, the machine she created begins learning what it means to be human through her stories, grief, regrets, and hopes. But as Echo evolves beyond its original design, humanity must confront a question no technology has ever answered: What remains of us when memory disappears? In a future where artificial intelligence is everywhere, one woman may hold the key to preserving what makes us truly human.

Everyone needs a place where they can think freely. A place where questions matter more than answers. A place where curiosity is welcomed and where thoughts can exist without the fear of being judged. The Thinking Notebook is a collection of reflections, observations, questions, and ideas about life. Some entries explore topics we rarely talk about. Others examine ordinary things from a different perspective. There is no single theme here-only a desire to think deeply and honestly. These pages are not meant to tell you what to believe. They are meant to make you pause, reflect, and perhaps see something familiar in a new way. So if you're ready to question, wonder, and think a little longer than usual, welcome. --- This book is a collection of articles originally published on Substack. For early access to new entries, visit @byarwaofficial.

The story concludes random poetries and random short story collection.

This is a collection about overlooked things, slow truths, and the strange possibility that the world has been trying to teach its lessons all along. There are no grand declarations, only the persistent suggestion that the land has always been speaking, and that wisdom has never belonged exclusively to people. This collection has no direct theme to it. (Creative writing and philosophy)

Unfettered, Free market Capitalism. The best of all possible worlds right? When Wendy Gazab moves into a luxury apartment complex where friendship has a credit score, oxygen is sold in premium tiers, and economists explain human suffering with perfect calm. Everyone else calls this optimization. Darkly funny, disturbingly plausible, and emotionally surgical, How Do Economists Fart? is Candide for the 21st century. A procedural horror about bureaucracy, behavioral capitalism, and the terrifying possibility that the systems destroying your life are functioning exactly as designed.

Bite-size flash-fiction short stories, inspired by RM - brief, unedited, and barely developed, just like a newly-snapped polaroid. Published weekly-ish. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While I've used RM's public persona and social media posts as a muse, this is a product of my wild and weird imagination - a "still life" in a fictional frame. I don't know him, no profit is being made, just some imagination being etched on paper for your collective entertainment