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House Of Puppets

Arthur Moreau disappeared during a live broadcast. No warning. No transition. No last words. One moment he was finishing a world event in front of fifty thousand viewers. The next, he was gone, and what arrived somewhere else was Gepetto: his character, his creation, the most feared Marionettist ever built in a game where power was the only language that mattered. The world that caught him is not new to collapse. Gods have existed here, and some of them have died. What stands now is only the latest arrangement of a cycle that never needed him. Elysion is a Republic in the way that a cracked foundation is still a building. The institutions function. The titles exist. But beneath the gas lamps and the steam columns and the elevated rails connecting district to district, the actual structure is simpler: those with enough power do what they want, and everyone else absorbs the cost. The working class breathes chemical residue and calls it employment. The middle class negotiates in a market that has stopped rewarding negotiation, trains for credentials that no longer open doors, and moves forward because stopping is worse. There is no king here. There are only people with enough accumulated weight to act as though the question of permission does not apply to them. The Church of the Solar God holds the whole thing together, which is not a metaphor. A population that does not share language, origin, or history requires something to organize around, and the Church understood this long before anyone thought to ask. The Solar God is not a symbol. He walks. He acts. He has reasons of his own. And now, Players have begun to appear. Not as heroes. Not as chosen figures. As variables carrying power without understanding the system they have entered. The world does not pause for them. It absorbs them, bends around them, and continues. Gepetto does not try to fight it. He studies it. While others assert themselves through force, faith, or the assumption that visibility equals strength, he builds something quieter. Not an army. Not a faction. A structure: distributed, patient, invisible until it is not. A web that does not need to be seen to function. The skills are real now. The strings are real. And what they touch does not reset. House of Puppets is a story about control, belief, and the cost of acting in a world indifferent to your intentions. It follows a man who does not seek to win, but to understand the rules well enough that losing becomes unlikely. Because the puppeteer pulls the strings. But in a world this old, someone is always watching. A word from the author: House of Puppets is not a standard webnovel. Not power fantasy. You won't get that constant power escalation hit or that achievement system satisfaction. What you get is slow burn, structured more like a novel than serialized content. Each chapter accumulates. Each arc tightens. Tension builds and doesn't release until it's supposed to. The work touches on philosophy, politics, economy, metaphysics, theology. Everything woven into narrative, not explained to you. If you've already read Lord of Mysteries, Reverend Insanity, A Song of Ice and Fire, works that trust readers to hold complexity, you already know what we're trying to do here. The ambition is simple and honest: get there. Write something that redefines what this genre can do. I can't promise we make it. I'm a beginner without experience and this work is experimental. But I can promise I'll give everything I have trying.
MisterElegance · 138.5k Views

Lord of Mysteries: Incarnation of Chaos

Have you ever wondered what would happen if someone from a Lovecraftian world got isekai’d into another world built on Lovecraftian themes? Well, it’s absolute chaos. Meet Alaric, a human(questionably) survivor of the madness and chaos caused by a certain crawling chaos, who, thanks to the kindness of a certain bubble daddy, got isekai’d into the “fake it till you make it” world. What will he do in this strange new world? Climb the ladder of power to become that impossible god unless you’re just a pawn of a certain russian priest or a certain goth mommy? Or become a cheshire cat, leaping onto the 4D chessboard to disrupt the schemes and mind games of these bizarre folks? For Alaric, it’s not a tough choice. But before he picks either path, he must, of course, uphold the time-honored tradition of isekai’d victims(questionably) that forms the foundation of this world. What’s that tradition? Keeping a diary. --- [Alaric's Transmigration Diary] [Day 1: I encountered Amon. Used a special technique to summon a projection of the Ancient Sun God, who personally delivered a heavy slap to Amon. Hope Amon appreciates this weighty paternal affection.] [Day 2: I received an invitation from the Aurora Order. Told them I want it all... looks, brains, and combat prowess... and invited them to join my newly founded Joker Club.] [Day 3: I met Leonard and acknowledged Gramps Pallez. Declined Leonard's enthusiastic suggestion for the old man to move in with me, as I’d rather not have a old man critiquing my every move, even in private moments.] [Day 4: I told Klein I plan to pray to a deity named The Fool. Watched his eyes widen in shock and kindly offered him some eye drops.] [Day 5: I listened to Medici perform a two-hour comedy routine. Suggested he go professional and invited him to share a meal.] . . . [Day 666: I fully absorbed a certain crawling chaos fragment within me. From now on, I am the Fifth Pillar.]
XElenea · 2m Views

My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines

[ Re-Make Version Already Online with Another Name. ] “Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...” Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp. You boys love your villain stories, don’t you? You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy. But you? You don’t want to lift a damn finger. You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed. You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible. You’re not fans of villains. You’re fetishists. You want the violence, but not the silence after it. You want domination, but not the burden of being hated. You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it. You don’t read these stories to understand evil. You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way. “Villains don’t play fair.” Exactly. That’s why you love them. Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t. You don’t want a villain’s life. You want his results. You want to watch him burn the world for a woman. But you’d cry if a girl left you on read. So tell me— What exactly are you rooting for? At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs. You know the type. Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead. She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job. But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched. Her cape drops before her guard does. But I don't need to tear it off. She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie. You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy? Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended? That's not conquest. That’s devotion, baby. Unfiltered. Undeniable. And the irony? They fall the hardest. Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath. But I do. I whisper into the cracks of their perfection. I plant kisses where they hide their pain. I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength. And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission— That’s when I rise. I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption. I’m not a villain. I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor. Chapter Updates: 2 chapters per day (unspecified until a fix update time is decided) Bonus Chapters: +2 Extra chapters (350+ coin gifts) +4 Extra chapters (1005+ coin gift) +6 Extra chapters (2005+ coin gift)
Idiocrat · 463.3k Views

Cursed Eyes: The Dream Master of Jujutsu

In an alternate timeline of Jujutsu Kaisen, set during the formative high school years of Satoru Gojo, a foreign soul descends upon the world of jujutsu—bringing with it power that should not exist. His name is Toho Hiroshi. Once an ordinary vocational college student, Hiroshi awakens in a world ruled by curses and sorcerers, where strength determines fate. From the moment of his arrival, he possesses the Mangekyō Sharingan, granting him access to terrifying ocular techniques—Amaterasu, Kagutsuchi, Kamui, and Tsukuyomi. But this is only the beginning. As Hiroshi delves deeper into the mysteries of cursed energy, his eyes evolve, approaching the realm of the Rinnegan—a power that transcends the limits of jujutsu itself. His existence disrupts the natural order. A second “set of eyes” rivaling the legendary Six Eyes appears in the same era, sending shockwaves through both sorcerers and curses alike. Satoru Gojo: “I thought my eyes were absolute… but now, I’m not so sure anymore.” Suguru Geto: “Are you strong because you are Toho Hiroshi… or is it your strength that defines who you are?” Kenjaku: “One anomaly was already enough. Now, there’s another variable I cannot ignore.” Uraume: “Sukuna-sama… this outcome… was not part of the plan.” As hidden truths surface and long-standing contradictions within the jujutsu world begin to unravel, Hiroshi walks a solitary path—one that challenges fate, rewrites destiny, and exposes the flaws of the world itself. In an age of prodigies, monsters, and ancient curses… A new existence rises. The one who sees through all illusions. The one who bends dreams into reality. The Dream Master—Toho Hiroshi.
TranslatingFanfics · 473.4k Views

One Piece: Two Piece Luffy

I died. Got hit by three trucks. Apparently, some divine idiot named Kyle confused me with a mass murderer. The upside? I got to pick my reincarnation. I chose Luffy from One Piece. Not because I wanted to be a hero, but because I wanted the adventure, the freedom, and honestly? The waifus. Don't judge me. Now I'm seventeen, I'm made of rubber, and I'm sitting in a boat with a kid named Coby. I have Luffy's memories, his power, and all my own cynical, math-brain knowledge of the entire series. The goal? Become King of the Pirates. The problem? I know exactly how dangerous this world is. Admirals, Yonko, ancient weapons. I'm at the bottom of the food chain. So here's the plan. Follow the canon, mostly. Recruit Zoro, Nami, and the rest. But train smarter, unlock Haki early, and use every advantage my twenty-first-century mind can give me. I'll laugh like the original, I'll be the pervert everyone expects, but underneath the straw hat, I'm always calculating the odds. Shells Town is first. A pirate hunter, a tyrannical captain, and a deal with a desperate girl. It's a small start, but every king begins somewhere. Let's see if this mathematician can conquer the Grand Line. [Disclaimer One Piece: Two Piece Luffy is a fan-made work. The original One Piece series is the property of Eiichiro Oda, Shueisha, and Toei Animation. This story is written for personal enjoyment and is not intended to infringe on any copyrights. Look, we all know One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda, and he's a genius. I'm just a person with a keyboard and a very specific set of interests. This story is a transformative, work of fan fiction created because the voices in my head demanded it. It's full of cursing, fighting, and a protagonist with a one-track mind when it comes to treasure and women. If that's not your thing, the back button is your friend. If it is, welcome aboard.]
Jacob_Peralta_9548 · 1m Views