What Happens At The Ending Of Little Mercies?

We all know about the year 2996, when the vampires were in charge but what happened before that? How did the vampire end up taking charge of the whole world? The year was 2886, and the vampires are taking over the whole world, but what about the humans who refused to obey? This is the origin of Dom and Littles Academy story, the humans have ruled for a long, but it's now time for them to step down, to be controlled and ruled. They are submissives, all of them, but what type of submissive are they? A little? A slave? A regular submissive? Or maybe a pet? Humans are getting classified, changed, and ruled, it's time for the submissives to take their position in the bottom. Warning this story contains little, ddlg, ddlb, violence, and fluff. Apologies for any misspelling or grammar mistakes.

For five long years, Gwen believed she was living a life of love, marriage, and family. But her reality was a carefully constructed lie, manipulated by a cruel narcissist and a vengeful enemy. Forced to embrace false memories, she married Mason Burkely, a man whose obsession and violence left her bruised, both in body and soul. Even her daughter, Kayla, suffered at the hands of the very man she was supposed to call “dad.” When Adrian Salvador, the love Gwen thought she had lost forever, reenters her life, the truth begins to surface. With the help of the wise and enigmatic Doctor Liang, Gwen starts reclaiming memories stolen from her, uncovering the horrors she endured and the manipulations that defined her supposed life. But remembering comes at a cost. Gwen is haunted by betrayal, abuse, and the knowledge of the child she carried and lost because of Mason. As darkness and fear threaten to consume her, she must confront her trauma, face her abuser, and navigate the complex emotions of love, trust, and desire, especially with the man who truly belongs in her heart. A Kiss For Every Bruise is a story of survival, resilience, and reclamation. A journey through pain, lies, and heartbreak toward healing, justice, and the rediscovery of love that was never truly lost.

"I told you to give up." He grabbed my wrist and twisted it, pulling me close with a tender smile. "I told you, you can't escape. You're cold. Were you chilled?" I answered with a venomous glare. "If you won't smile... I'd stitch your lips into one with a needle if I had to. I don't want to be rough. But why... does nothing ever go my way?" Even as I stayed silent, he muttered to himself as if used to it, then lifted the temperature-adjusted showerhead over my clothes. "Stop being so stubborn and talk to me already. I'm the one who's suffering here... Okay? Elias Reyes." Find out who the man is-who stole Elias 's memories and is holding him captive.

Diane Mercer has the perfect life, a loving husband, a brilliant four-year-old daughter, and a beautiful home by the lake. But perfection is a mask. Craving the passion her marriage lacks, Diane begins a dangerous affair fueled by lust and cocaine. When her two worlds violently collide one ordinary Thursday morning, the consequences are far worse than she ever imagined. What follows is a descent into psychological torment, betrayal, and supernatural horror that spans years. As guilt and paranoia consume her, Diane discovers the terrifying truth: some mistakes don’t end with death. They only begin there. Raw, relentless, and brutally intimate, Rest, Honey is a chilling exploration of desire, guilt, and the horrifying prisons we build with our own hands. A story that will haunt you long after the final page, because sometimes the worst thing you can see… is exactly who you’re becoming.

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

My younger twin sister, Emma Lawson, is everyone's favorite because she is sickly. A snowstorm traps us on the mountain and the rescue helicopter arrives with room for only one more. I have terminal cancer and am ready to let Emma take my place. Then she suddenly clutches her head and cries that she feels dizzy. My whole family rushes to her side and together they push her into the cabin. My husband, Leon Ziegler, touches my fractured arm and says, "Sarah, you'll have to wait for the next helicopter." My daughter, Daria Ziegler, even throws a snowball at me. "Aunt Emma is sicker than you. Stop trying to take her spot." Only when the helicopter takes off do I see Emma pressed against the window, smugly sticking her tongue out. She has been lying the whole time. When I am finally rescued, the doctors tell me I have three days left to live. I decide to trade everything I own for a small piece of my family's affection.