Story cover for Black (Work in Progress) by Ash2112
Black (Work in Progress)
  • WpView
    Reads 526
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    Votes 29
  • WpPart
    Parts 13
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 8m
  • WpView
    Reads 526
  • WpVote
    Votes 29
  • WpPart
    Parts 13
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 8m
Ongoing, First published Dec 28, 2011
The Machine- A global, trillion dollar corporation. It is powerful, influential, and hopelessly corrupt. But corruption is one of it's virtues compared to what is going on behind its closed doors...Countless victims lie in its wake, quite literally, as only a handful survived..But what happens when these few rise up against the entity that has taken everything from them? What will happen when those disturbing secrets are uncovered...

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Soft Things Can Kill You (MFMM)

19 parts Ongoing Mature

My name is Wren. I'm exhausted, under-caffeinated, emotionally unstable... and apparently mated to a god, a jealous alpha, and my teacher with arms thicker than my will to live.** I wish I was kidding. But nope. I got dumped at Hollowthorn Academy - a school for the powerful, the broken, and the chronically unwell - and now I have three dangerously hot soulmates fighting over me like I'm the last snack on Earth. And honestly? I kind of want all three. 🖤 **Ashriel** - The god in my head. No, seriously. He lives in my mind, talks in cryptic riddles, and acts like he owns my body. He's terrifying, obsessive, and somehow the only one who makes me feel safe when I'm falling apart. I think he wants to devour me. In multiple ways. 🖤 **Ryan** - The Beast. Alpha shifter. Growls when I look at other guys. Gets jealous of my cereal. Once threatened a chair for getting too close. He's chaos in a hoodie. But when he touches me, I feel like I could stop running. 🖤 **Theron** - My teacher. Yeah. That's going well. He's quiet, massive, and stares like I'm both a threat and his last meal. I know I should be scared. But I feel seen. Protected. Like he could hold all my broken pieces together... and snack on me while he's at it. Meanwhile, I'm stress-eating Honey Nut Cheerios and trying not to scream every time someone says I'm "chosen." There's something inside me. A mark. A power. A darkness. Everyone says I'm special. But I don't feel special. I feel like a haunted gremlin with abandonment issues and way too many men breathing down my neck. Still... maybe I could be more. Maybe I could fight fate, fall in love, and survive the wreckage of who I used to be. Or maybe I'll cry in the girl's bathroom and eat emergency cookies out of my bra. Either way... I'm not going down without snacks.