The Fisherman Who Never Catches Fish - Chapter 361 - 219: Encounter with a Boat Thief (Please Subscribe)

Daimon, a modern-day man with a penchant for video games and sci-fi lore, finds himself unexpectedly thrust into the Star Wars universe during the tumultuous era of the Old Republic. His reincarnation is anything but ordinary; he is reborn as a Gen'Dai (Not the ugly looking ones, his appearence is similar to Thanos) , a race celebrated for its extraordinary regenerative abilities and near-immortality. However, Daimon’s transformation is even more remarkable, his Gen'Dai physiology is enhanced by genetic traits from various races across the galaxy, making him an unparalleled force of nature. Twi'lek grace, Wookiee strength, and Rodian intelligence mingle with his own essence, giving him abilities that surpass even the greatest warriors of the time.His journey will start by learning the ways of the Jedi then learning the more darker abilities of the force which will give him even greater strength. And with his powerful connection to the force, he will be able to achieve anything he wants.-----Before reading please be aware that this is a Overpower Fanfic just like every fanfic I write so as you read keep that in mind especially in the beginning of the story

Apollo was a genius who was talented enough to achieve big things in his life, but because of a rare genetic disorder, everything came to an abrupt end.But when he thought everything was done, he again opened his eyes to another world as the baby of a noble family. Knowing that this might be his second chance, he decided to do everything he could to create a good and free life for himself.But surprisingly, this world is not simple, as there are beings with extraordinary power who can control the lives and deaths of others, giants who can crush mountains, dragons who can burn the seas, and many more. So now, to truly achieve his goals, Apollo needs to learn and adapt to this new world where life and death can be matters of thought.

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.