Gohan Cry

Arthia Violette, a Fine Arts student, majoring in Painting, has always been sure that her sole purpose in this life is to become a wife. She would always cry over proposals and wedding scenes in movies or books. She believes in marriage and has always been so fond of marrying in her early 20's. But at 20, she still has the NBSB badge. And just when she had already given up dating and just decided to wait for what we call in God's time, Antonio Nicholas, an Architecture student, suddenly slid through her Instagram DM's. Not only that, he slid into her DM's, but he also turns out to be the son of her father's colleague, and Av being a die-hard fan of destiny, thought that maybe it was her shot at it. It was the start of everything. And finally, at 21, Av got a boyfriend! And at 23, she got married to the man of her dreams. At 24, she had her gallery, art workshop, and art store. She had her first successful major exhibit. She's living the life she has always dreamed of. What could possibly go wrong?

Right before my wedding, my fiancé, Benjamin Gray, holds another wedding at an old settlement with his true love, who has lung cancer. He holds Jennifer Robinson close and smiles tenderly at her underneath the starry sky. "According to the local customs here, the woman whose wedding is held first is considered a man's actual wife. I might have already registered my marriage with Samantha, but she's more like my mistress." Everyone cheers and blesses them as they toast each other and enter their room for the night. I witness all of this, but I don't cry or kick up a fuss. Instead, I make an appointment for an abortion. I've loved Benjamin for 15 years, but I still can't compare to Jennifer, who is my stepsister. If that's the case, I'll let him go. Later, I join a geological exploration and research team in the South Isles and am cut off from the world. All I leave behind is a divorce agreement and a divorce gift. Benjamin has never cared for me, so it's odd that he loses his mind overnight after my departure.

I used to be treated like a princess in Lumenclaw Pack. But the first day after my eighteenth birthday, my Alpha dad brought home a charity case—Callie from the welfare center. Everything flipped. Ryell, my own brother, ditched me for her. Jovan, my future mate? Shielded her. Even Dad called her sweet, kind—"a thousand times better than you." Graduation Day. Strike 101. They picked her. Again. "Aren't I your real family?" Dad hesitated—but only to hide Callie behind him like some precious thing. Her fake tears. His real slap. "Such a petty wolf. I wish I'd never had you." Ryell sneered, "Having a sister like you makes me sick. Get out!" I didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just packed and walked. They thought I'd break like always—cry, forgive, crawl back. But not this time. I called my mom. Took her offer. Moved to her distant pack. If they wanted me gone, wish granted. So why the hell did they come begging when they realized I meant it?

Sixteen-year-old Rithanya can’t wait to go to boarding school and follow her dream of entering the Armed Forces Medical College. A far cry from the busy city life in her hometown of Bangalore, the strict, rural boarding school has strange rules and a stringent way of life for the students. Rithanya quickly settles in, making friends and enjoying her new life away from her sometimes overbearing family. But it isn’t all fun and games. The hostel food is intolerable and Rithanya starts to feel the pressure of her intense studies. She has terrible nightmares of failing her exams and disgracing her family, and her poor diet isn’t helping. The drudgery of capsuled academic studies, stringent rules, unpalatable food and the rat race for perfection triggers depression and an attack of psychosis of unimaginable magnitude in her mind. Once a bright and carefree girl, she falls into a terrible mental state of overwork and anxiety. Her deteriorating condition is of great concern to her family. Can Rithanya get better and continue her studies, or will the overwhelming pressure and her deteriorating mental health threaten to spoil her future plans?

Le jour de son dix-huitième anniversaire, Amber Cry a ressenti l'appel de son partenaire alors qu'elle servait les invités lors de la fête du chef de meute. Cependant, son partenaire n'est autre que Tayler, l'alpha de la meute de la Lune d'Or. En découvrant qu'Amber n'est qu'une simple servante, Tayler refuse de l'accepter et la menace même de la qualifier de renégate si elle osait révéler leur lien. Amber se retrouve donc contrainte de rester au sein de la meute, condamnée à la solitude. Pourtant, elle se dit qu'il doit y avoir une raison pour laquelle la Déesse de la Lune les a réunis. Peu importe la raison, parviendra-t-elle à lui pardonner ? Supportera-t-elle le rejet et en sortira-t-elle plus forte ?

“Valerian!” a cry came from outside and my feet rushed to the door, my body having recognised the voice before my brain could comprehend what was happening. I yanked the door open and almost broke down crying at the sight before me, “Queen Lyla!” Bethany gasped from behind me. I scooped her into my arms, my eyes searching for any unwanted presence before rushing her into the living room. “Valerian put me down, we don’t have much time!” she rushed out the command as she struggled to get down. Silently obeying, I put her down, taking note of how she looked and it wasn’t pretty. Her hair, that was always neatly made, looked like a bird’s nest; twigs and leaves hanging from the knots. Her long white sleeping robe dirty and bloody from her waist down, she looked a royal mess; with a bunch of blankets wrapped around her upper half. “My Queen, what happened?” Beth asked as she handed me my medicine bag.

“Now listen to me carefully, Energia,” “This, is mine.” he said with his hands brushing my mouth. “This, is also mine.” I watched as his hands move down to touch my ass. My breathing quickened and just at that moment, in between my thighs dripped wet. “Did I forget to say this?” My mouth parted in shock as his hands reached through my joggers, cupping my sex. “Getting too excited, are we?” With a half-smirk, he asked. He then took my lips again. He softly bit it, making me cry out in pleasure. “And, this.” he murmured, with my breasts in his hand. He pinched the nipple and rubbed them softly with his thumb. “In fact, all of you. And, I refuse to share it with anyone at all. You are mine, Energia. Mine and mine only,” *** A sassy stripper named Serena. A ruthless Lycan Alpha named Luca. What happens when these two different people are brought together by the Moon Goddess? How about when two different enemies from both sides come forward with a quest to ruin them all? It's all a game. A game of the Mafias, Lycans, Hybrids, Witches and Elves.

My husband used to love me so much. Back then, he proposed 99 times just to marry me. It wasn't until the 100th proposal that I was finally moved by his persistence and became the envied Mrs. Frederick Morrison of Harbor City. On our wedding day, I gave him 99 reconciliation vouchers. We agreed that as long as these vouchers weren't used up, I would stay by his side forever. … It's been five years since then. Every time Frederick goes out to see another woman, he uses up one reconciliation voucher. Gradually, he suddenly notices that I've changed. I no longer cry or beg him to stay. Only when he loses his mind over his innocent secretary again do I quietly ask him, "Frederick, if you don't come back tonight, can I use a reconciliation voucher?" He pauses mid-step, then immediately turns. "Of course." He thinks he still has many reconciliation vouchers. He doesn't realize this is his last one.

When I died with a smile on my face, right before my brother's eyes, he looked as if the anguish might tear him apart. Yet, for twenty-one years, he hadn't stopped wishing I would meet this exact end. It all traced back to my fifth birthday—the day I had innocently hoped our parents would come home from their business trip to celebrate with me. They rushed back that night but never made it. A car accident took both their lives. From that moment on, my brother resented me, despised me. He didn't just stand idly by as our cousin snatched up my work as her own; he encouraged it. And when my landlord threw me out, it wasn't a random cruelty—it was my brother pulling the strings. All he had ever wanted, from the very beginning, was to see me die a miserable death. But when he finally got his wish… why did he cry, pleading for me to come back, begging me to call him 'brother' one last time?

When I went to buy a new house, all I found was crumpled newspaper where my savings should've been. I almost called the cops—until I found out Tony Jarrett, my own husband, had blown seven years of my hard-earned cash on a shiny new motorcycle. For Pauline Schmidt. His ex. I asked why. He just shrugged. "She's a single mom. Life's tough. This way, she won't have to walk so much." I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down. Made him at least get an IOU from her. While I was busy sourcing stuff for the factory, a flood warning hit our town. And Tony? Out buying toy cars with Pauline and her kid. Our son was home alone, trying to stay above water. I was back. Like life hit rewind and dropped me into that exact day. The day he gave her the motorcycle. I saw them—laughing, tight, like their own little picture-perfect family. But I didn't cry this time. Didn't beg. Just turned and walked off.