What is the ideal time period to set a story in?

Before there ever was a boy that ever lived in a cupboard on Four Privet Drive, there was a similar boy in a far worse home that lived on Spinner’s End. We all know the tale of that abused boy who grew up to become a bitter spy. But not all tales end the same for in the many parallel worlds that exist in the universe there are far better endings, and equally as many worse ones. This is a tale of one such condemned universe that for better or for worse chooses to change its own fate at through the sacrifice of the bitter spy. (All rights to the Harry Potter world and characters belong solely to J. K. Rowling. However, I do claim creative fanfiction rights. Please do not post my fanfiction elsewhere without my express permission. This work will also be partially hosted at RoyalRoad, Wattpadd, and Archive.)

Due to her disagreement that all nerd deserves being bullied Min Jinfeng a campus nerd decided to become a bully herself... Suddenly a man claiming himself that he's a king crosses her path... Wanted some revenge that man suddenly burst out to her classroom demanding that she became his wife... Jinfeng never had an idea that Jang Fanriu is a son of the most richest,popular and the most powerful family in their country... But Min Jinfeng bieng known as an evil nerd never lose some tricks up her sleeve...

What would you do if you woke up in another body and another world. Have a new life, look for the reason of the situation, get strength, search about your past or other incredible things. English is not my first language. Slow updates. Characters used are not my property. The cover image does not belong to me. This fanfic was written in Spanish by me and eventually published in webnovel.

Uchiha Sasuke, younger brother of the last Uchiha heirs to a billion-dollar empire, is a normal University student. By a stroke of luck, he winds up saving an injured animal of what he thought was a dog. Meet Naruto, the youngest son of Hagoromo Gitsune. In debt to his saviour, Naruto offers to pay back the debt through one request. A misunderstanding occurs when Sasuke says "Be my lover." What happens when the naïve fox takes it literally? Warning: Boys love and ratings may go up (if not already). Don't like don't read.

An avid Skyrim player found himself inside the Danmachi world, as his game character nonetheless!! Okay seriously, I just wanted to make a danmachi fic without the MC joining yet another Hestia familia and babysitting Bell - scratch that guys! He train bells in chapter 33! What's wrong with me. You can give me a tip jar if you like some of my works. Nothing is locked behind paywall no worries. https://ko-fi.com/nyanmato DISCLAIMER: I don't own any known works that may be presented inside this fic, it rightfully belongs to its respective owner.

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling