Solitude Stories

Ten years ago, Jay Walker was banished by his own team for a crime he never committed. Betrayed and broken, he lost all hope and vanished into The Desert of Doom. Now, after a decade in solitude, fate grants him a second chance: a new world, new path, new people, new villains, and new trials that will test him in ways he never imagined. But scars don't always fade... what will happen when the past catches up... and Jay is forced to face Ninjago again?

A spiritual reawakening for a soldier who is lost to the seeds of war and consumed by violence of the conundrum. A ghostly face familiar yet so far away and from the mind vaguely consumes his heart, soul and entire being. He's guided through this dance of the heart and spirit of the unknown craving what he lost in the distance. Filled with seeds of doubt, his heart beats for the one and only life he left behind to start anew the wreckage of his visions His mind foretells.

Cerebral cum

Hi people!! Umm... so... I know the title seems offensive, b-but don't get me wrong! I LOVE BL! Just look at my bio for example! I probably should explain before I get backlash from other fujoshis. 😂 Haha...🥲 So, the title "No More BL!" isn't because I hate BL. Quite the opposite! It's about my character, Fu Cujo, a guy with terrible luck in romance ever since he was a kid. Probably because he doesn't think relationships are important. He's good at almost everything else... well, kinda. Fu isn't much of a social butterfly. He's straightforward, tone-deaf, blunt, and has absolutely no filter. Whatever pops into his head comes straight out of his mouth. He's a loner-just like me-but with even worse social skills. He enjoys being by himself, but everyone refuses to leave him alone. They're like bees to honey... well, actually, he'd probably call them flies. Especially the guys. Then one day, Fu discovers the horrifying truth... He's living in a universe where almost every man effortlessly falls in love with another man-just like in a BL manga. Desperate to protect his peaceful loner life, Fu begins studying every classic BL romance trope he can find, determined to avoid falling for the men around him... or worse, letting them fall for him. But the harder he tries to escape the BL plot... ...the harder the universe throws ridiculously handsome men directly into his path. Come along and watch Fu Cujo, an asocial loner, struggle to survive in this overly friendly society of Japan, where BL practically rules the world! Will he stand his ground and fight for his precious solitude? Or will the BL universe finally defeat him? His motto: "I'm not bored when I'm alone... I'm bored when I'm with the wrong people." And sometimes... Just sometimes... He can't help but scream- "PLEASE STOP TURNING MY LIFE INTO A BL MANGA!!"

what the heart yearn is not heard from the sound of the mouth - but from the rhythm of its beating

Presenting short stories, in a dramatically aesthetic way, which I may have jotted during wintery midnights. It's a self reciprocation and dwellnes in contours of life, gently averting through seasons, solitude, relationships, in puzzled staccato form.

Creating a book of every moment I felt like I was there, every moment I felt alive. (Separate chapters for light read and quick shuffle)

Kay est une assassin pyrokinésiste. Elle est missionnée pour assassiner un membre éminent de la royauté rivale par sa guilde, la Plume. Mais quand elle rencontre un certain prince, sa vieille malédiction refait surface... Elle ne peut plus faire marche arrière : elle doit par tous les moyens possible la briser. Mais en sera-t-elle capable seule ? Et sinon, qui pourra la soutenir sans fuir ?

The issue of children, they are too fragile, too much, are you experiencing these problems or issues with them? Well! Never to fear! Our Rehabilitation for broken children, where you can take a breather or a break! And here's the best thing! You don't have to worry about them anymore, because you can just leave them and go, you don't even need to come back to them, why? (Well, it's an orphanage of course!). So come on to the Rehabilitation Organization Orphanage! The R.O.O, the orphanage for "broken children", or the orphanage that loves child labor, but the child are clueless, they grow up in an trapped environment, around a huge wall, and the house in the middle, it was built by the influence of "fixing broken children". They couldn't be more wrong, they love to use the children's trauma against them to keep them in line, but unlike all orphanages this one has a ranking systems, the lowest ranked all the easy children, the second lowest are the children that can get out of hand, but are manageable, the third are the stubborn children, middle are the oldest of children ranging between (15-16)- they are the ones that take care of the children while the caretakers are out, third highest, the caretakers are the ones managing the orphanage, second highest the manager of the orphanage, the highest, ???. One orphanage, five kids, and a whole lot of Lore, will I have the motivation, probably not :D, anyways I'm glad to introduce "the "rehab" for children".

Bonjour, je m'appelle Binta. Franchement, si on m'avait dit un jour que je quitterais le soleil de Bamako pour me retrouver dans le calme cette petite province française, je l'aurais jamais cru. Mes parents ont vraiment tout donné pour moi. Ils ont fait beaucoup de sacrifices pour que je puisse réussir à l'école. Au début, je devais habiter chez ma tante Oumou, mais sa maison était beaucoup trop loin. Donc, elle m'a aidé à trouver une résidence étudiante près de mon nouveau collège. C'est comme ça que j'ai fini par m'installer toute seule, loin de chez moi. Mais je sais pourquoi je suis là : je suis en 3eme et je veux mon brevet, puis un bac général pour devenir agent immobilier. Niveau physique, on va pas se mentir, je me fais remarquer ici. Je fais 1m73, je suis noire, et je garde mes tresses courtes avec fierté. Après, je suis pas du genre à chercher les problèmes ou à vouloir qu'on me regarde. Je m'habille simple, je suis plutôt tranquille, timide, et j'aime bien regarder comment sont les gens avant de leur parler. Même si c'est dur d'être seule dans ce nouvel endroit, j'essayer de garder le sourire parce que j'aime bien parler avec les autres. Le problème, c'est que je ne savais pas encore que dans ma nouvelle classe, ma différence allait devenir leur cible...

I was bored, so just give me some requests on what to write and stuff b:

Vihaan always believed that true friendships could survive distance, time, and change. But life had other plans. A heartfelt short story about friendship, expectations, self-growth, and the quiet beauty of being alone. Because sometimes, losing people helps us find ourselves.

"Sentiments make you poet" The human is made up of love emotion sentiments. The soul is the fire that deserts it's rays through all the senses, it is in this fire that the existence consists; observations, philosopher's efforts, the centre and moving power of our sentiments and our ideas. In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments. "The freedom of expression"

Les Échos du Silence Certaines blessures sont invisibles. Elles ne laissent aucune trace sur la peau, mais elles marquent une vie entière. Depuis son enfance, Maëlle grandit avec des absences qu'elle ne comprend pas, des silences qui pèsent plus lourd que les mots et une solitude qu'elle apprend à cacher derrière un sourire. Au fil des années, elle affronte des épreuves qui pourraient briser n'importe qui. Pourtant, au milieu des tempêtes, une petite lumière refuse de s'éteindre. À travers les rencontres, les pertes, les doutes et les espoirs, Maëlle découvre que le courage ne consiste pas à ne jamais tomber, mais à trouver la force de se relever, encore et encore. Les Échos du Silence est un roman profondément humain sur la résilience, la reconstruction et la quête de sa propre place dans le monde. Une histoire bouleversante qui rappelle que, même après les nuits les plus sombres, il existe toujours une lueur capable d'éclairer le chemin. "Le passé peut laisser des cicatrices... mais il n'a pas le pouvoir d'écrire la fin de notre histoire."

Une route de campagne déserte. Une nuit sans étoiles. Un choc. Au bord de l'asphalte humide, une jeune femme contemple le corps qu'elle vient de renverser. Entre sidération et indifférence, elle cherche en elle la culpabilité qu'elle devrait ressentir, mais ne trouve qu'un vide ancien, installé depuis longtemps. Tandis que le vent murmure dans les arbres et que les souvenirs d'un amour perdu refont surface, la frontière entre le réel et l'obscurité semble peu à peu se dissoudre. Sur cette route oubliée, au cœur d'une nuit où les ombres déforment tout, une seule certitude demeure : certains accidents bouleversent une vie. D'autres révèlent ce qui était déjà brisé depuis longtemps.

The scribbles here sketch rawness and purity of my innocence battling with heaviness I've dealt in 18 years of my instability. If these words be seen and spoken from someone's senses, brighten be the blues and grays I shadowed infinitely behind its letters.

Cassandra Clover has always existed in the quiet spaces between introversion and extroversion-soft-spoken, thoughtful, her rare beauty inherited from dark-skinned parents who raised her to lead with kindness. She's the friend everyone wants but few truly know, someone who overthinks every word yet still gives herself away too freely. She's learned to protect her vulnerabilities, building walls just high enough to feel safe. Then she meets Cardan Wilson. There's something about him that stops her cold. His eyes that he covers with a hood, which she never should have seen-deep and swirling, as if crafted with deliberate care-seem to hold secrets she desperately wants to uncover. He hides beneath hoods and silence, his voice a low, peculiar cadence that makes her want to confess things she's never told anyone. He's magnetic in his mystery, unsettling in his distance, and she can't look away. Cassie has never felt this pull before-this need to understand someone who seems determined to remain unknown. Cardan is a puzzle she didn't ask for but can't ignore, and the more she reaches for him, the more she realizes he might be reaching back. In a story about two people who see something in each other the world has overlooked, Cassie will learn that sometimes the most dangerous thing you can do is let someone in-and sometimes, it's the only way to truly live.

Et si une clé pouvait ouvrir autre chose qu'une porte ? Et si elle était... vivante ? Le docteur Elias Kern, chirurgien réputé mais épuisé, subit une opération étrange après une intervention anonyme. À son réveil, il découvre une clé organique greffée dans son dos. Une clé qui ouvre des portes que personne d'autre ne peut voir. Derrière ces passages : des pièces irréelles, des créatures faites d'émotions pures, et une réalité qui se fissure. Plus Elias explore, plus la frontière entre son corps, son esprit, et ces lieux impossibles s'efface. Un voyage dans l'invisible. Un cauchemar éveillé. Un mystère que seul son propre corps semble pouvoir résoudre...

Hey! My pen name is Pearl/Jeon Pearl, and this is my first post. And I have written these poems, some are of longing, love, whereas some are of struggles, realities, and internal struggles. But I'd keep on adding more. I hope you enjoy them!

A representation of life as it is, society and it's flaws or even fears spoken out from a distance. We all have been pushed to act, think or behave a certain way by society, emerging trends and so forth. It's great to have a liberating front where we can scream out through written words, and lay forth our deepest fears and darkest moments or beautiful days through bleeding creativity. And this is it for me.