Yaoi Hard

Have you ever experienced the crushing weight of humiliation so heavy that it makes you contemplate taking your own life? If you haven't, count yourself lucky, because it's not a feeling anyone would want to experience, let alone brag about. Meet Kelvin, a college student whose financial struggles are no secret. Despite feeling like the world is against him, he finds solace in his girlfriend Vanessa, or at least he did until her birthday party. When he arrived with nothing to offer but his love, she not only broke up with him but also subjected him to public ridicule. The pain of such a betrayal and public humiliation can leave a lasting impact on one's mental health and self-worth. He had grown accustomed to enduring the constant harassment from her and others, but today it reached a new level of cruelty. As he ran home, tears streaming down his face, he was so consumed by his emotions that he didn't see the curb ahead. He tripped and fell, hitting his head hard on the pavement. When he finally regained consciousness, he heard a faint voice calling out to him. ** ** ** "Host detected!!! Beauties picking system activated in 1%..." a computerized voice said out of the blues. "Who's there?" Kevin asked. "10%...89%...100%... system uploaded." It continued. It took a moment and he realized it was coming from his head. Kevin was scared that he was going mad. "Who are you? What are you?" he demanded, holding his head in his hands but then suddenly it spoke again. "Now find a beauty and make her fall in love with you in 72 hours," it said.

"I think there is a misunderstanding here ma'am," he said to her. "That is my manager over there," he said pointing to Antonio, who was waiting by the side of the road for a cab, just a few feet from the restaurant. "I was only calling on him to give him the phone," Jason said, trying to placate her. But then, the manager was quick to walk up to them. "What is going on here?" He asked as he got to where they were. "Sir, this lady—" "Your boy tried to steal my phone," the lady interrupted and snatched her phone from his hand, not waiting for him to say anything at all. She seemed insistent on getting back at him for something that happened long ago in school. Jason opened his mouth to say something again but was interrupted by a hard slap across his face from Antonio. He staggered but maintained his stance. "Not only do you come late to work or be clumsy at your job," Antonio began in a fit of vexation. "You also steal from my customers too?" He asked Jason, who still held his face, still in oblivion at what had just happened. He nodded and tried to speak again, but Antonio stopped him with a wave of his hand. "I think I have had enough of all your shenanigans here and I think it is time to relieve you of your duties," Antonio said. Framed by a colleague and betrayed by his friend, Jason Abbout had his life crumbling to the ground. No one to run to, no one to share his pain with either, he was gradually dying. Not until, he received one call that changed his life. Now to those who hurt him, they must bow.

He was buried alive on a Tuesday. Not with soil and a coffin but with debt, betrayal, and the quiet, practiced cruelty of a woman who had spent six years perfecting the art of destroying a man while making him feel grateful for the privilege. Daren Cole woke in the ruins of a collapsed building, the only survivor of a disaster his own company had been contracted to prevent. He had no money. No name. No proof he had ever built anything. His wife had already signed the divorce papers dated three days before the disaster, as though she had known. His business partner had already moved his assets offshore. His in-laws had already changed the locks on the penthouse apartment he had paid for. He had forty-eight hours before the arrest warrant was issued in his name. He used forty-seven of them to become someone they would never recognize. Armed with a recovered hard drive containing evidence that could bring down an entire industry, a dead man's identity that opened doors money alone couldn't, and the muscle memory of a man who had once built empires from nothing Daren doesn't come back for revenge. He comes back for reckoning. His wife is already chasing a richer man. His partner is already spending his money. His city is already celebrating his death. Let them. The question is not whether Daren Cole will reclaim everything they stole. The question is what he will do when the woman who buried him alive comes to him on her knees and he realizes he still knows the exact sound of her laugh.

I remember the day everything burned like a wound that would never heal. Flames stole my family — my parents were ripped from me, my little brothers and sisters turned to ash — all because debts bled our name dry. They came in the night with torches and cold mouths, set our home alight, and watched the world I knew collapse into smoke. When I thought the world had taken its last piece of me, something — someone — stepped through the blaze. I could not tell if it was man or woman; the fire kept the savior's shape blurred and holy, as if the flames themselves had given birth to a protector. They pulled me from the ruin and vanished like a promise. For seven years I answered a different kind of fire. I joined the army and let the drill and the discipline burn the broken parts clean. My hands learned steel. My bones learned marching. My nights learned keeping watch. I learned how to turn pain into armor, sorrow into strategy. I was forged in training fields and battle lines until a new name fit me. I am Kaelor Thane now — not a child who once cried over ash, but a force that arrives on the war road without apology. They called me the God of War because I learned to move like thunder and strike like winter. I carry no mercy in my pocket; I carry only the weight of a debt to be settled. Those who think they can stand between me and what I owe will learn the hard truth: I do not forgive. I do not forget. I return to make the ledger even, and I will make them pay in ruin, pain, and a silence that remembers my name.

I narrowed my eyes at him and caught glimpse of a guy, standing in a corner and what’s weird is that he wasn’t dancing. He seemed different and odd for all this. He’s looking in my direction, very still and I can see him intermittently. The hat makes it harder to discern. Except for the creepy, fiendish smile, raising the edges of his mouth real slowly. I squinted my eyes at him. He tugged his hat from the right, an expression of a muted Hi! I nodded reflexively and opened my mouth to call Frank, who was busy with stuffing ice cubes in two glasses of beer. “Hey!” I called with my hurting head. “What?” he asked the glasses. “Who’s that? Someone new?” I pointed at him. Frank gave up the stuffing and looked in his direction. “Haven’t seen him before” he said with confusion. . . . Elijah Heath, an eighteen year old teenager was stalked by someone. Read to know who was he? And what made him behave this strangely. Does someone REALLY follows her? Or she's hallucinating like others say? . . . "Is someone there?", I moped around the dim-litted living room. "Guess it's just me. I'm making excuses to cease. No, Elijah! You have to finish this up!". As I ascended three steps, I realized a change in the air pressure around me, an odd creak and a clear presence of heat_ behind me. My breath abated. Just as I plucked the nerve to turn, my ankle was grasped and I slided down as some hand pulled me. My knees rubbed along the hard steps. **Caution**: Contains extremely disturbing content. Read only if you can stand murder and blood descriptions else you might feel nauseous.

Trapped at the bottom of the corporate hierarchy, Lucas thought loyalty and hard work would earn him a future. Instead, his best friend Damon framed him for embezzlement, his fiancée Jessica abandoned him for status, and ruthless CEO Lancelot Peterson ordered his execution in a rain-slicked alley. But as blood pooled in the mud, a golden prompt ignited in his vision: Supreme Revenge Cultivation System Initializing... Waking up three years in the past, Lucas carries his memories, a ruthless mind, and a system that converts every public face-slap, broken conspiracy, and dead enemy into raw cultivation power. From executing a high-stakes public slap at the very engagement party that ruined his past life to hacking corporate broadcast networks with live evidence of his killers' crimes, Lucas transforms every trap into an arena for retribution. But as his power surges, a dormant ancient tablet reacts to his touch, unlocking a shockwave across the cultivation underworld and awakening the spirit guide Mandolin: Lucas is no ordinary victim—he is the last surviving heir of the supreme, long-lost Zekaron Immortal Bloodline. With the fiercely loyal Esther—a clinic assistant carrying a rare ancient healer lineage—by his side, Lucas wages an escalating war through underground fight arenas, corporate boardrooms, and secret realm rifts. As Damon spirals into paranoid madness and Lancelot unleashes dark cultivation syndicates to harvest the city's spiritual veins, Lucas dismantles every enemy layer by layer without a single step back. When ancient corrupted ancestors breach dimensional portals to drain the continent, the silent victim of the past stands at the peak of the modern world. Armed with god-tier techniques, a fully awakened bloodline, and an evolving System, Lucas will crush the betrayers, protect those who stood by him, and ascend as the ultimate Overlord of both mortal and immortal realms.

They should have made sure he stayed down. Seventeen-year-old Theodore Cross knows his place at the bottom. Bullied. Broke. Beaten. Working dead-end shifts to pay off his dead father's debts while his mother slowly dies from an illness he can't afford to treat. When gang enforcers corner him in an alley and beat him within an inch of his life, Theo accepts his fate. He's always been prey. This is just how his story ends. Except it doesn't. An ancient dying werewolf fleeing from hunters finds Theo bleeding out and makes a choice. With its final breath, it passes on something that hasn't been seen in five hundred years: a Royal bloodline. Theo wakes to a new reality. Enhanced strength. Supernatural senses. And a mysterious Blood Moon System that treats his life like a game with quests, levels, and abilities that grow stronger with every challenge he conquers. But this power comes with brutal rules: The Masquerade must never be broken. The Midnight Council rules with an iron fist. Born werewolves see him as an inferior mutt worthy only of death. And inside him, a beast grows stronger each day, whispering promises of violence and domination. The people who made his life hell are about to learn a hard lesson "Theodore Cross is done being prey." From underground fight clubs to pack politics, from gang warfare to supernatural hunters, Theo must navigate a hidden world where one mistake means death. He'll build his own pack from outcasts and misfits. Face enemies who've had centuries to perfect their cruelty. And somehow keep the monster inside from consuming what's left of his humanity. Because in the end, the real question isn't whether he can survive. It's what kind of monster he'll become.

Silence. Like a nice bucket of shhhhhhhhh. Everyone shut the effing fudge UP! That's all I've ever wanted. *Sigh.* But silence comes in different flavors. There's mint - the peaceful kind that wraps around you like a blanket. The kind I chase at 2 AM. I've cried once. Just once. With a bucket beside me, watching heroes with super suits and impossible strength tear each other apart. Somehow that feels less broken than my reality. Then there's the suffocating silence at school. Not an ice cream flavor. This one tastes like metal and shame. High school is my personal hell. Empty wallet, empty lunch tray, empty seat beside me like I'm radioactive. Empty soul on Wednesdays because middles are always the worst. *The usual.* But Emily made the silence bearable. Mint-flavored again. Until she broke something between us. *Snap.* One moment she's whispering secrets with me, the next she's weaponizing them. She scattered my private thoughts, added her own twisted lies. The betrayal burns hotter than the stares drilling into my back. I went from invisible to spectacle. Being a ghost feels like luxury when you're dodging spit balls and "accidental" lunch trays. But somewhere between my third panic attack and contemplating switching schools... *Something shifted.* Like in those games you play, when your character suddenly glows and the screen flashes: "New Skill Unlocked" And it wasn't just in my head. I tested it. Small things at first – a pencil moving across my desk when I focused hard enough. Then books. Then someone's lunch tray right as they walked past Emily. *tap tap tap* I used to think rock bottom was the end. *Well ladies and gentlemen,* it's just a really messed up spawn point. And now? I don't stumble from cliffs anymore. I swim in gravity, and dive head first.