Starry heart
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L'histoire d'une femme qui n'a jamais réussi à faire le deuil de sa mère, qui est assez tourmenté psychologiquement qui va se rendre compte qu'elle n'a pas encore vécu le pire. À force d'avoir été protéger toute son enfance elle ne connaît rien du monde qui l'entoure et elle va le découvrir d'une façon brutale.
Toute cette histoire est purement inventée, pratiquement rien n'est réel à part les lieux et les marques, les personnages et ce qui les entourent sont purement inventé par moi.
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The experiment.
They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.Concluida
Worth The Trouble ✓
COMPLETED BOOK 2- Sequel to Deal With It (#2 in ambitious #19 in tearjerker #3 in French) Amber Amity just couldn't seem to catch a break. She lost her father to lung cancer, her boyfriend of 3 years moved away without a warning, and now she's been fucked over by something she never saw coming. Amber was an ambitious 23-year-old woman who radiated poise and confidence. She refused to settle for mediocrity, instead, she wanted to be the best; she wanted nothing less than perfection. She was on track to becoming Fashionsitique's, a renowned fashion magazine's, Editor-In-Chief. She wanted to take the world by storm and reinvent fashion, and she could only do that from the position she was dead-set on getting. But will a series of unfortunate events allow her to do that? Will all these hardships be worth perfection? Amber didn't know. She was so close to giving up- all she wanted was for the universe to give her a break. She didn't know how to enjoy life anymore, but maybe she can learn to see the bigger picture. It would take her some time to understand that life and all its hardships will be worth the trouble. Always. ••• Sneak peek: I lifted my head and glanced at him, "This is all your fucking fault, Isaac." Isaac didn't hide his bafflement, "My fault?" He repeated. "How-" I cut him off with a shake of my head, "I should have never let you convince me to go out," I breathed out, feeling my eyes prick with unshed tears. I felt anger slowly bubble through me making me stare up at him, "This is all your fault."Concluida
"Almost Green"
Strands of your mind cling together like web to a slippery leaf bathed in the morning dew. You have seen both heaven and hell, witnessed the atrocities of war firsthand, and imagined a better life in the deepest, most intimate corners of your dreaming spirit. The wishes for peace and certainty you have once so desperately longed for, now lay trampled underneath the might of your mind's vivid horrors. What was once so bright and lively, now cowers in fear, clinging to gone memories like a shipwreck survivor to some lowly piece of driftwood. From the depths of hell, you arrived victorious, grasping the laurel wreath high above your head. Unrecognizable, with your empty eyes telling a story of innocence brutally taken away from the child curling in shame in the depths of your empty soul. Almost green you are, curly head, having grown up with a rifle by your bedside table, never knowing peace and quiet. Out of the pan that was the Kazdel Civil War and into the scorching flames of Lungmen, where life flows by on its own accord, here, you must learn to live once more. So put on your best facade, Let the reuniting trumpets ring a wild, And allow the city to swallow you whole. Here we are, a continuation of my previous work "Goodbye Curly Head", which sprawled into quite the epistle (but it wasn't really a letter, it's just long :P). Summarized in the most basic way possible, it's a story about a twenty-year-old Kazdel Civil War veteran who goes to Lungmen and has some troubles acclimating to the steady life presented before him. Sprinkle in a too-good-to-be-true offer and a freshly established logistics company, and you get Andy trying to make it big for as long as his deteriorating mental state lets him. I'd say it works as a standalone story for anyone who doesn't want to bother reading the first part. For now, at least. As always, please, pwwease leave a comment, positive, negative, I LOOOVE reading and replying to comments!!Concluida
Slay My Soul
There once was a girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead, and when she was good she was very, very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid. Ok admittedly I don't have a curl, and I don't plan on being horrid. I plan to be their worst fucking nightmare. They took the love of my life from me, and they have broken me more than any of their previous attempts could ever dream to. But the jokes on them. My pain is my gain, and I will use it to destroy them. I will solve the prophecy and end this ridiculous power struggle. I will watch their blood fall to the swing of my sword, and I will do it with a smile on my face. My only concern is what will be left of me once the bodies fall. My inner darkness is a crazy, bloodthirsty bitch that enjoys wreaking havoc. I'm not sure that's quite what the Fate's had in mind as their champion and future queen. Meh, fuck it. Let the chips fall where they may. This is the final book in the Pieces of Me trilogy. This is not a stand-alone. Please note this is a reverse harem/ why choose book. Please read the trigger warnings inside. Explicit content R18 readers.Concluida
Infectious Obsession
Mature 18+ Desire was only the beginning of the plague. It all starts in a lab with a simple acne medication trial... Then chaos ensues. It was supposed to be a promising harmless drug with minimal side effects. Quickly, participants become obsessed with sex and the urge to spread their disease. Then, the virus escapes to the public... Society comes apart at the seams. Kane, an original study subject, struggles to hold on to his humanity. Jason, the mad-scientist doctor, gives into his urges while hunting the object of his desire. And Colours, the sweet, unassuming woman that started it all, finds power and heroism in herself that could either save the world―or destroy it. Follow Kane, Jason, Colours, and a whole slew of other sex-crazed, zombie-like creatures as they navigate a darker side of human desire. What happens when a crazed doctor's compulsion to hold on to his possession has such dire consequences for humanity? Or worse... What if something even more sinister is at play? Trigger Warnings: Marked mature 18+ due to the following items. Sex, sexual assault, assault, abusive relationship, obsessive and possessive behavior, depression, violence, blood, gore, horror, murder, death, stalking, torture, harassment, drug usage, cannibalism, self-harm, suicide, and strong language. ©️ Copyright Carmen Johnson 2025Concluida
The Unknown Heroes(Manuscript)
Another ordinary day. That's what I thought. Boring and normal. Until everything was flipped upside down. Kidnapped, tested on, and then set into a new city I've never seen with no clue what was happening, or why. Then my supposed dream reached into the realms of possibility. I could be a hero. (This is just the manuscript. Nothing is complete. The plot is a mess. And theres lots of unnecessary things. The finished version will be much better)Concluida
Foul Play
**WARNING** ~contains explicit content that may not be acceptable to all viewers. discretion advised~ "The question, 'why shouldn't I?' played on a loop in my head. I was fed up with biting my tongue and walking the so-called straight and narrow. It had gotten me nothing but misfortune. People walked all over me because I showed them that it was possible. They say to be kind. To love. To live your life purely. Not to expect anything in return. Why then, did it seem like all anyone wanted was to take from me? Take and take and take until there was nothing left, and even then, try to take more. I had been told, over and over, that if I lived by the principles I had been taught, it would all pay off. I don't know if I believe in it anymore. Any of it." *** Have you ever experienced moments of lost time? An eerie sense of Deja-vu? Most people have, it can be fairly common. For Fawn, however, that feeling seems to go a little deeper. She finds herself waking up in clothes she didn't put on. Noticing things in places she swore she didn't put them. Hours, sometimes even days, lost to her. She begins to wonder... is this normal? The answer to that question may be one she doesn't truly want to find. There's a game being played, one Fawn never knew she signed up for; And her opponent isn't one to play nice. Can Fawn win this game, fair and square? Or will she have to make a Foul Play? *** Ms.Witch *** Created (December) 2024 & Completed () 2025Concluida
rose in the desert
I will write my future story in bilingual. I want to force myself to be the person I like. I don't care if other people like me, I just care if they like me. After days of hesitation, I finally settled on the name, and I sat on the toilet thinking about the script God had sent me... I can't wait to read the script God sends me and I can't wait to finish it. After writing it, the English audio reading was wonderful. I burst into tears as I listened, and burst into tears as I finished writing. This is very interesting. I always touch myself again and again, always write dreams in my dreams. Whose life is not a dream? I am an affectionate and tragic person, and I love this world deeply. Love so deeply, so seriously. God often gives me so much information that my brain feels like it's going to explode and I'm going crazy. I can understand what Vincent van Gogh was doing in the wheat field. When you see everything in the world, dear, you don't care about anything anymore. You only live for your own happiness. People start to distance themselves from you and you become more and more lonely. God, I ask you again and again, why am I stuck in the desert? I want you to answer me, once is not enough, ten times is not enough, a hundred times is not enough, a thousand times is not enough, ten thousand times is not enough! 2025/1/5
They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.
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