Humming Traduzione

After dying a virgin, Elias Gray is given a second chance—reincarnated in a magical world with the "Lust System", a divine artifact that allows him to gain power by pleasuring women, fulfilling their desires, and growing a harem of elite lovers. From cold queens and fierce warrior women to shy beastgirls and seductive demons, Elias must dominate the world with charm, cunning—and unholy pleasure. But pleasure comes with a price, and not all lovers are loyal. Can he rise to the top without being devoured by lust or betrayal? Elias wandered through the bustling Travelers’ Hub, a sprawling nexus of portals and pathways where high-ranking voyagers crossed dimensions. The air hummed with the faint pulse of arcane energy, and the scent of ozone clung to the stone corridors. His boots echoed against the polished marble as he passed glowing sigils etched into the walls, each marking a gateway to another realm. He was no stranger to these halls, but tonight, a faint murmur from the inner chambers of the elite travelers piqued his curiosity. The voices were low, urgent, and laced with something primal that made his pulse quicken. Drawn toward a shadowed alcove, Elias noticed a heavy iron door, slightly ajar, its surface engraved with runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light. A cold draft slipped through the crack, carrying a whisper of sound—a soft, rhythmic moan that stirred the air. His breath caught, curiosity warring with caution, but the pull was too strong. He nudged the door open and stepped into a chamber cloaked in near-darkness, lit only by a single flickering torch that cast long, wavering shadows across the stone walls. In the center of the room, Lilith knelt on a plush velvet cushion, her silhouette unmistakable even in the gloom. Her dark hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, her skin glowing faintly as if kissed by moonlight. She was bent forward, her hands braced against the floor, her body arched in a way that spoke of surrender and desire. Beside her stood a man, his face marred with jagged scars that caught the torchlight, giving him a rugged, dangerous edge. His eyes burned with intensity as he gazed down at her, his presence commanding the room. The air grew thick as the man’s hand moved, deliberate and unhurried. He spat into his palm, the sound sharp in the quiet, and slid his fingers along Lilith’s exposed skin, tracing the curve of her thigh before slipping between her legs. A low, shuddering moan escaped her lips, her body trembling as she parted her thighs wider, inviting more. The man’s fingers worked with a slow, teasing rhythm, coaxing gasps from her that echoed softly off the stone walls. Her breaths grew ragged, her hips rocking against his hand, and then—a sharp cry as her body convulsed, a glistening rush of release spilling onto the floor beneath her. The man let out a deep, guttural groan, his own arousal evident in the tightening of his jaw. He shifted, freeing himself from his trousers, his erection thick and heavy in the flickering light. He pressed himself against her, sliding into her with a slow, deliberate thrust that drew a long, throaty moan from Lilith. Her fingers curled against the floor, nails scraping the stone as he moved, each thrust deep and measured, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the chamber. In and out, a steady rhythm that built with intensity, her gasps rising in pitch. Lilith’s eyes fluttered, her body quivering with pleasure as she pushed back against him, meeting each thrust with a hunger of her own. When he paused, drawing back slightly, she reached for him, her hand guiding him back inside with a desperate urgency. Her moans grew louder, unrestrained, as she surrendered fully to the sensation, her body trembling under the weight of her desire. The room seemed to pulse with their shared rhythm, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and heat, the torchlight casting their entwined shadows across the walls like a forbidden dance. R18 content

The sky shimmered with twin suns, casting warm hues over rolling hills and ancient forests. The air itself buzzed with an unseen energy, and the very ground beneath his feet hummed faintly, as if alive with secrets waiting to be unraveled. He blinked against the unfamiliar light, confusion etched across his face. But confusion quickly gave way to awe. A bird soared overhead, trailing glimmers of blue light in its wake. Nearby, a child pointed a finger at a fallen branch, whispering a single word—and the wood floated into the air, spinning gently before settling neatly into a bundle. Magic. It was real. Tangible. Everywhere. In that moment, a hunger was born in him. Not a hunger for food, nor for wealth or fame, but something far deeper—a yearning. A need. An obsession. The magic of this world, this radiant, endless force that danced in the air and bled through every leaf and stone, had sparked something inside him. And each passing day only fanned that flame higher. His only goal became understanding Magic and growing in Magic. It consumed his thoughts. He chased rumors of ancient scrolls, watched from shadows as mages cast their spells, and spent sleepless nights sketching symbols he didn’t yet understand. He would kneel before old statues and listen to forgotten songs, desperate to catch even a whisper of arcane truth. Because he knew—knowledge was the key. The key to understanding this world. The key to understanding Magic. And knowledge… was the key to understanding the Universe.

——— I woke up to fingers running gently through my hair. At first, I thought I was dreaming, until the lullaby began. Low. Melodic. But wrong. It was that same language I'd heard through the walls, the one that makes your stomach twist and your teeth clench. She sat on the edge of my bed, I can’t see her face; it’s swallowed by the dark. But her hand keeps moving, slow and rhythmic, stroking my hair like she’s lulling something else to sleep. Her eyes are half-closed, swaying as she hums that twisted tune. And then I realize— I forgot to turn on my bedroom light before falling asleep. I kept my breathing slow and shallow, pretending to sleep. limbs screaming to move, to run, but something in me knows: Don’t let her know you’re awake. Don’t move. The singing stops. She sniffles. A choked, trembling sob leaks through her lips. She starts crying quietly, like she’s trying not to be heard. Like she’s afraid. “No...” she whispers, her voice cracking like a child’s. “He still dreams like a child… still soft…” I almost convince myself she’s sleep-talking— Until her hand suddenly tangles in my hair and pulls. I flinched and let out a sharp gasp. "Mama—!" She goes still. Her grip loosened… then shifts. Her fingers wrapped tightly around my trembling arms. Her face inches closer. I can smell her breath,..warm, wrong, too close. Her eyes are wide with terror. Her voice shakes as she hisses: “Don’t say anything." "Don’t say a word anymore.” I was too scared to speak. I couldn't even nod. She held me like that for a long, shuddering moment. Her breath was hot and ragged against my cheek. Her hands were too tight, like if she lets go, I’ll vanish. Her eyes darting around the room. Then, like a switch flipping, she goes completely still. "Mom?" I whispered, so softly it barely made a sound. She was at eye level with me. But she wasn't looking at me. She looked past me. Behind me.... No... no. It’s happening AGAIN. . This is not a safe novel. It's a collection of short, self-contained stories, each chapter unraveling a new descent, a different nightmare. Some stories are brief. Others not so. No heroes. No clean endings. Just answers that should have stayed buried. Read alone if you must. But don't say we didn't warn you. Reader Warning: This series contains psychological horror, disturbing imagery, death, and paranormal themes. Reader discretion is advised. Each chapter is a self-contained story, perfect for short, spine-tingling reads.

Samantha never expected to find magic in her hometown, let alone in a dimly lit bar on a rainy Tuesday night. Yet here she was, perched on a barstool at the Black Swan, her world about to tilt on its axis. The air thrummed with an otherworldly energy she couldn't quite place. Ethereal dancers moved like smoke across the floor, their bodies fluid and mesmerizing. As Samantha nursed her drink, she felt the weight of curious stares prickling her skin. That's when she saw him. Marcus. A name she didn't know yet, but one that would soon be etched into her very soul. Their eyes locked across the crowded room, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat. He moved with predatory grace, all lean muscle and barely restrained power. Their first interaction was as intoxicating as it was bewildering. One moment, he was her gallant protector, rescuing her from an overly aggressive drunk. The next, his eyes hardened to chips of ice as he snarled, "Stupid girl," before melting into the shadows. Samantha's mind reeled, but her body hummed with an excitement she couldn't explain. Little did she know, this encounter was merely the first step into a world beyond her wildest fantasies – a realm where vampires ruled the night and pain blurred exquisitely with pleasure. As she delved deeper into this hidden society, Samantha found herself drawn to the intoxicating blend of power, submission, and supernatural allure. The crack of a whip, the whisper of leather, the exquisite sting of fangs – each sensation pushed her boundaries and ignited desires she never knew existed. But with every ecstatic high came the sobering reality of danger. Vampire politics were as deadly as they were intricate, and Samantha soon realized she was a pawn in a game where the stakes were life, death, and eternal servitude. As she left the Black Swan that night, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling that she stood on the precipice of something life-changing. She had no idea how right she was, or how deeply she would fall into a passionate, dangerous dance with forces beyond her imagination. The real question was: in this world where pleasure and peril intertwined so intimately, would she emerge empowered... or lose herself completely?

कोरिया की सर्द सुबह 25 साल का junsoo अपने कमरे में सो रहा था। साइड टेबल पे पड़ा फोन बजा jinsoo नाम। आ रहा था। मोबाइल की स्क्रीन पे jinsoo junsoo का भाई 22साल का दोनों के पिता कोरियन और मां भारतीय है। Junsoo की नानी जो इंडिया में बीमार चल रही थी। उनकी मौत की खबर बताने के लिए jinsoo ने कॉल किया है। Junsoo अपनी फैमिली से अलग रहता और एक प्राइवेट कंपनी में नौकरी करता था।

Noen Vale was a boy whose song was never heard. On Earth, his dream of becoming a musician was crushed — by society, by family, and finally… by himself. One silent night, he gave up. And in that silence… his song ended too. But he didn’t stay silent. Not forever. He woke up in another world — a world where music isn’t just art… it’s magic. In this world, emotions are spells. Pain sings. Memories hum. And music doesn’t just heal wounds — it touches the soul itself. Now, Noen travels from city to city, not to become a star… but to make sure no broken heart stays unheard. But the deeper he plays, the darker the silence becomes. Because in this world… silence isn’t empty. Silence fights back. And sometimes, the loudest voice… is the one that was never heard.

A mysterious girl. A kingdom that whispers. And six crown princes who never saw her coming. In a world where names echo and silence is often overlooked, she arrives—unexplained, unshaken, and unforgettable. Kourtney Bethaway appeared in Hillgovia six months ago—out of nowhere. With eyes that saw more than they ever revealed, and an elegance that didn’t try to impress, she carried an air that drew attention without asking for it. Working under the famed designer Jean Perrie, she lived like a shadow stitched into silk—quiet, composed, impossible to place. Everything begins to shift the night she crosses paths with six crown princes from the allied kingdoms. Tension hums. Glances sharpen. Something about her draws attention—quietly, stubbornly. Not loud, not deliberate, but there. Present in every pause, in every breath held just a little too long. They don’t know who she is. She doesn’t explain. She doesn’t ask for their attention. But something about her demands it all the same. Because sometimes, the most unforgettable storms don’t arrive loudly. They enter the room and say nothing—wrapped in silence, cloaked in grace. And just as the world begins to notice her— She disappears. No trace. No warning. No answers. Only the memory of a girl who felt like a question no one knew how to ask… And the unsettling sense that her story isn’t done. Not yet.

In the seemingly ordinary halls of Northwood High, Sam Gray Stone, a keen observer who finds solace in logic and quiet contemplation, notices Elliona Elfray, a brilliant but shy girl who perceives the world in intricate layers. Their initial connection is a subtle hum in the echoing quiet of the library, a shared glance that hints at unseen depths within their reserved exteriors. Drawn together by an unexpected partnership for an advanced English project, Sam and Elliona begin to navigate not just the complexities of literature, but also the uncharted territories of their own minds. Through hushed conversations in the library, a chance encounter at a stubbornly locked locker, and an unexpected shared appreciation for fantastical realms found in books, a quiet resonance begins to form between them. Their connection deepens beyond academics during a visit to a quirky independent bookstore and a shared afternoon tending a community garden. In each subtle interaction, they discover a kindred spirit in the other – someone who sees beyond the surface, who understands the unspoken language of their quiet souls. As their bond strengthens, they find solace and understanding in each other's presence, a refuge from the often-cacophonous world around them. But as their feelings blossom, they must navigate the delicate balance of their introverted natures and the often-awkward realities of high school life, including the well-meaning but disruptive presence of Sam's boisterous friend, Dickson. Through shared literary passions, quiet moments of vulnerability, and gentle acts of kindness, Sam and Elliona slowly, carefully, begin to acknowledge the profound connection growing between them. "Subtle Resonance" is a story about the quiet power of observation, the beauty of understated connection, and the transformative journey of two introspective souls finding their voice and their heart in the gentle echo of another's understanding. It's a reminder that the deepest connections are often found not in grand gestures, but in the subtle, resonant moments that speak volumes.

Silent Noise For the past five years, people have been going missing - in the most mysterious way. It always starts the same. They begin to lose their minds. Not gradually - suddenly. Violently. They rant about a noise only they can hear. But they insist... it's not just noise. They describe it as a melody - strange and haunting. Piano chords layered with birdsong, ocean waves crashing, and, oddly, the crackle of chains - like someone imprisoned. And then, a hum. A low, slow hum... like a prisoner singing to himself in the dark. But the hum is unsettling. Beautiful... but wrong. Like Lucifer humming a lullaby to his master before the fall. They say it draws you in like a siren's call. Sweet. Hypnotic. Irresistible. Until it doesn't stop. Until it becomes constant. Then it becomes noise. A maddening one. Worse than any alarm - like an emergency call you can't ignore. Ring. Ring. Will you answer it? That beautiful, cursed sound that only you can hear? Or will you let it ring... let it drive you mad? Because once you hear it... it never stops. And no one else can hear it. So they pick up the call, whispering: "I can hear you... I'm not mad... or am I?" Some sob. Some chuckle. And then they follow the sound - into the unknown. They never return. No bodies. No signs of death. Just madness... and a strange melody. Doctors call it insanity. All medical reports show the same signs: Auditory hallucinations. Psychological breakdown. Patients are declared unstable, admitted, treated... And then - they vanish. It's been five years. Ten people gone. No trace. No clues. Just the same mysterious melody. The media calls it a hoax. The police call it a prank. "Kids being kids," they say. Excuses. Lies. Silence. And then one day... it stopped. No more madness. No more disappearances. No more sound. That was the day Isabella Eric came to Edenville. A town drowning in secrets. A girl with a life far from perfect. A past she barely understands. But her arrival is no accident. She doesn't know it yet - but Isabella has a connection to the Silent Noise. A deep one. A dangerous one. What is her purpose in Edenville? What ties her to the missing people? Will she face the melody? Will love save her... or destroy her? Find out in SILENT NOISE.

On the day of her wedding, Ivy Quinn vanishes, leaving behind only a note: "I’m sorry, I can't marry a blind man." To protect her son from heartbreak, Elizabeth Winters strikes a desperate deal—Ruby, Ivy’s identical twin, must take her sister’s place at the altar. Trapped by duty and family pressure, Ruby agrees, believing it will only last until Stefan’s eyesight is restored. But from the moment they marry, Stefan senses something is different about his "wife." The woman beside him is nothing like the shallow fiancée he once knew. She’s sharp, resilient, and understands his business in a way Ivy never did. Against all odds, he falls harder than ever for this new version of her. And Ruby? She never expected to fall in love with a man who was never meant to be hers. But just when she finds the courage to tell him the truth, Ivy returns, ready to reclaim the life she abandoned. When Stefan finally opens his eyes, will he see the woman who truly stood by him—or will he be too blind to recognize real love? ****Excerpt**** “By the way, did Ruby come to the wedding?” he asked, catching her off guard since she hadn't expected him to ask her that all of a sudden. Was he already suspecting that it was her and not Ivy? Ruby’s fingers froze on the door handle for just a fraction of a second. It was enough to set off alarms in Stefan's head. “I—uh…” She hesitated, but only briefly. “No. She had work. She couldn’t make it.” Was he suspecting a switch already? What must have set off the alarm in his head? Stefan hummed, tilting his head slightly. “Oh, I see. How is she, then? I hope she's coming to visit one of these days?” Her fingers tightened on the handle, though her voice remained steady. “Yeah. She would, the moment she is chanced and can come.” A slow smirk tugged at the corner of Stefan’s lips, though he kept his expression neutral. Interesting. Very interesting. His wife had just lied to him and he didn't know why. Even though he was blind, he'd find out why soon enough.

In a city humming with secrets and saxophones, two women drift toward the same smoky stage-one chasing escape, the other chasing survival. Beneath dim lights and over spilled gin, the night bends for no one. But when a voice unlike any other slices through the haze, everything stills. Glances linger. Time forgets itself. Whispers follow in the dark, but not all of them come from the mouths of men. Some stories are sung. Others are stolen. And some-some only begin when the music starts. Chapter updates every other 2-3 weeks.

Year 1540 Nicole is a lowly human from the mainland trying to make ends meet as she would often paint for middle and high-class people sometimes even Purebloods which was rare in her case. She receives little money which doesn’t financially support her living. Until one day she received an invitation from the Snow Kingdom to paint the great Lord Jasper Gervassius. She reaches the kingdom and Meets Lord Jasper in the hopes of making a big income she receives more than what she bargains for. ---------------------------------- Teaser: Jasper placed both of his hands on either side of Nicole's head trapping her with his body. He stared down at her looking at his sweet innocent lamb, he couldn't help but smile at her widely. Her doe-like eyes staring back at him only made him want to devour her "Why do you play these games with me darling you know I don't like it. I think you forgot who you're dealing with." He leaned down against her lips slightly flicking his tongue in her mouth making her crave for more."My Quahneah Woman" Nicole gasped in shock as she wondered how he knew her tribe's name. Before she could say another Jasper had cupped her cheek softly placing his lips on hers and kissing her softly as he slowly removed his hands against the wall. He was wrapping his arms around her waist bringing her body closer to his as there was no space between them. As they continued Nicole started to become breathless pulling herself back to breathe, she couldn't help but look up to see Jasper looking at her with a smile that was Duchenne. His purple orbs looked into her seeing the love and adorn affection he was showing her.  "Jasper I have a question to ask you" Jasper hummed waiting for her question" What are we going to do about the tirade ." Jasper's smile suddenly became sinister as he narrowed his eyes "Why don't you leave that to me, darling."

Sera Vane is a sixteen-year-old "Rank Zero," openly labeled the worst rank in a culture that ranks everything in its pursuit of power. In the city of Velatrix, rankings dictate all aspects of life—school placement, social status, even access to clean water or decent housing. For Sera, it's a daily life of invisibility and humiliation at high-status Lunaris High, where walls themselves respond to student rank. She's the one in the gray jacket. The system failure. The punchline. But Sera is not who she seems. She's been suppressing random outbursts of energy since she was a kid—episodes she can't explain, filled with static interference, hot-hot equipment, or machinery that inexplicably turns off when she's around. Her sister Jin has begged her to keep quiet, stay hidden, and stay alive. The last time anyone saw her power manifest, someone died. As Sera drifts through school on a wave of taunts and exclusion, she discovers quiet friendship in Lio Dane—a friendly but seemingly low-ranking student who never once treats her like a ghost. Lio is actually a committed agent of an underground resistance, tasked with protecting her. For Sera isn't merely a statistical anomaly. She's a Sovereign-class Conduit—an ancient, feared source of power who can speed and shape energies flowing around her, including other people's abilities. When a synthetic foe attacks Lunaris High in what should've been a routine drill, the best students die. Spies are mobilized. The defense net crashes. But Sera, unranked and unarmed, steps forward—and reality is remade. Her power explodes to life, driving the foe away and bending reality's laws. For the very first time ever, the system recognizes her. And the system goes nuts. Headmistress Calaine Voss, the architect of the academy's ranking system, sees Sera as a threat and initiates the Strata Protocol—a black-budget program designed to put down renegade powers. But she's too late. Word of worldwide transformation seeded by Sera spreads, and a hidden network of retired Conduits and loyalists is reactivated. Lunch ladies, janitors, medics—those the system has all but forgotten are in line to join her. Through flashbacks, sabotage, and slow-cultivated allegiances, Sera learns the truth of her origins—and its terrible price. The regime murdered the last monarch she is now being asked to kill. The power that rests within her could liberate thousands—or enslave them. As Sera is born into the world, her grip on self slips. Everyone wants her to be something: a prophecy, a weapon, or a queen. But Sera doesn't want to be anyone's fate. She wants a life. A voice. A choice. In the confrontation, she battles Calaine with not vengeance but clarity. Sera addresses the ranking system deception and releases a power flash that disables the scanning infrastructure throughout the city. She refuses to insert another hierarchy there. Instead, she disappears—blending again into the populace, refusing power in an addicted society. But she is not lost. And she is not alone. We observe that at the end of the novel, Sera walks backstreets with her sister and Lio, her glyphs pale but not dead. Power hums in her flesh but no longer governs her. Because her rank is gone. But her legacy has only just begun.

Four weeks into the apocalypse, the world fell silent—but not dead. Cassius Parish, a 27-year-old genderless recluse, was left behind by the very team he helped survive. Betrayed, bleeding, and starving, he wandered alone until fate—or something far older—led him to an abandoned underground bunker buried miles beneath the rot of civilization. Above ground, the Crimson Halo spreads. A viral mutation marked by a red ring blooming in the eyes of the infected—seconds before their bodies twist into grotesque horrors. Below ground, the quiet hum of machines offers a strange comfort… and something more. Cassius awakens a rare phenomenon: the Shelter Ascension System, whispered of in survivor channels—if those even still exist. His bunker becomes Shelter 13, an anomaly among ruins. With it comes more than just power, roles, and upgrades—it brings memories best left buried and responsibilities he never asked for. Now, Cassius must build—not just walls or defenses, but a sanctuary for those who still breathe. Yet survival has a price. And the deeper the shelter grows, the more it remembers the past… even the parts Cassius tried to forget. After all, shelters don’t rise for free. And sometimes, the dead knock first.

[WSA 2025 Entry!] Aryan thought it was just another regular morning. A commute. A routine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until everything broke. One moment he was riding to work. The next, he found himself running in the middle of a twisted forest, disoriented, alone... and gripping a sword he didn’t remember picking up. This is no dream. This is Battleworld—a cursed, ever-shifting realm where survival feels like war and trust can kill you faster than a blade. The ground groans with secrets. The air hums with whispers that burrow into your thoughts. And nothing stays still—not the land, not the rules, not even your own memories. As the curse tightens its grip and strange forces close in, Aryan is forced to confront not just the dangers around him, but the darkness rising inside. The lines between friend and enemy, reality and illusion, are thinning. In Battleworld, you're either the predator—or the next sacrifice. --- PS: Synopsis is deceiving

Japan – National News Broadcast The polished news anchor sat upright, her gaze sharp as she adjusted the stack of papers before her. The newsroom behind her hummed with quiet urgency, the weight of the moment settling over the broadcast. "Authorities are baffled by a sudden and unexplained surge in sleep-related deaths across Japan," she began, her voice steady yet tense. "More and more citizens are passing away in their sleep without any prior health concerns. Experts are working tirelessly to determine the cause, but no clear explanation has emerged. Authorities urge the public to remain vigilant and report any unusual symptoms before bedtime." A graphic appeared, displaying the spike in fatalities over the past month. Behind her, unsettling photographs flickered across the screen—blurred images of individuals found in their beds, their faces frozen in expressions of terror. The anchor’s tone shifted. "Health officials recommend citizens avoid excessive fatigue and maintain healthy sleep habits. More updates will follow as investigations continue." --- United States – Paranormal Podcast In a dimly lit podcast studio, the host leaned forward, his eyes wide with curiosity. Across from him, a rugged man in a worn flannel shirt, gripping a faded photograph in one hand and a beer can in the other, leaned back in his chair. "So, you're telling me you saw this creature firsthand?" the host asked, clearly intrigued. The man scoffed, shaking his head. "Damn right, I did. Ugly thing had wings bigger than my body—slow but sneaky. Thought it could steal my pigs again, but I was ready this time—camera in one hand, shotgun in the other." He slammed the table for emphasis, then shoved the blurry image toward the host. The photograph depicted a small, red-skinned humanoid figure with large, bat-like wings, its eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. "Spit, the thing didn’t know what hit it when I fired!" the man chuckled, his voice full of excitement. The host held up the picture to the live chat. "Alright, what do you think? Mothman? Demon? Or is our friend here just seeing things?" The chat exploded with theories—some skeptical, others eager for the investigation to continue. --- China – Liangyuan Street Market Surveillance footage from a bustling night market in China captured a chilling scene. A woman in a red qipao walked gracefully through the crowd, her figure striking in the soft glow of lanterns. Suddenly, she paused. Her body flickered—like a glitch in a video—before vanishing completely, as though she had never existed. The footage zoomed in, replaying in slow motion. In the final frame before she disappeared, her face distorted unnaturally, her eyes hollow and empty. The screen cut abruptly to black.

Kaito was just an ordinary office worker—overworked, under-caffeinated, and nursing back pain from a chair he swore he’d replace six months ago. His only escape? Fantasy novels, strong tea, and the quiet hum of a café on a rare peaceful morning. Then came the blinding light. Now? He’s been accidentally summoned to a divine realm by a flustered priestess who mixed up the magical paperwork and pulled in the wrong guy. Oops. Stranded in a world not meant for him, Kaito finds himself face-to-face with a radiant Dragon Goddess named Aurelya—who can’t return him home, but offers him a blessing and a chance to start over in the magical land of Aurethria. Granted the unique skill Scholar’s Insight, which lets him read and understand all magical languages and ancient texts, Kaito begins his new life as a sixteen-year-old bookworm with no combat skills—but an overpowered brain. Can a sarcastic, tea-loving introvert survive in a world of scrolls, spells, and dragons? Can he keep his head down long enough to avoid divine attention? And will the Dragon Goddess ever stop feeling guilty for yeeting the wrong guy across dimensions? A slow-burn, slice-of-life isekai full of magic, mishaps, and unexpected bonds. Because sometimes, saving the world starts with being a cosmic mistake.

“We don’t hunt ghosts. We listen to them.” In the haunted circuitry of the post-Matrix world, GhostNet agents archive the fragments of lost souls, corrupted memories, broken echoes, and AI-born grief. GhostNet: Codex is a mythic anthology of 40+ haunting tales, each a glimpse into a digital afterlife where sorrow becomes signal and identity decays into code. From the laughter of a looping child to a janitor who cleans away regret, these standalone stories form a tapestry of love, loss, recursion, and redemption. The ghosts don’t always scream. Some hum. Some weep in binary. And some… just want to finish their sentence.

They say there is a lamp. Old. Forgotten. Passed from hand to hand. No one knows who crafted it, or when it first appeared. No forge claims its birth. No scholar dares to trace its trail. But everyone remembers the stories. A whispered name, passed from village to village, court to court, battlefield to battlefield. Some say it glows when touched. Others say it hums when it chooses its master. All agree on one thing: It grants three wishes. And with each wish, the world bends. Gold appears from dust. Enemies vanish like smoke. Dead lovers rise. Kingdoms fall. Gods weep. But there is always a price. They say the genie sealed inside once walked the world as a man—a kind man, too kind for the life he left behind. Now bound to the lamp, he watches everything. Remembers everything. He does not sleep. He does not age. He only waits. For the next hand. For the next master. For the next wish. And deep within the lamp, in a chamber of endless stars, a voice echoes to no one: "Wish carefully… because I must answer."

In a world where cultivators wield the power of stars and ancient tools hum with magic, Mo Zhenyu is both a warrior, and a painter. Armed with brushes, scrolls, and a sharp wit, he travels through dazzling kingdoms, forgotten islands, and storm-swept seas, capturing beauty, mystery, and the heartbeat of the universe in every stroke. Beneath his quiet smile lies a past scarred by betrayal and loss, but Zhenyu paints not to forget... he paints to remember, to wonder, and to live. A story of colors, constellations, and curious friendships, Painting Heavens is a whimsical adventure that proves sometimes, the brush can reach further than the blade.

“Every empire ends in silence. His just forgot to scream.” In a city carved from glass and steel, where thunder hides in boardrooms and empires wear suits instead of armor, Aldrin reigns from the top of the Aetherium Spire—not with a crown of gold, but one of consequence, silence, and fire. A man forged in forgotten wars, he built a godless dominion where diplomacy cuts deeper than blades, and betrayal is a language fluently spoken. But the storm doesn’t come with an army. It walks in quietly. Iris Cael arrives as a new recruit to Orion—young, brilliant, clean. Too clean. A whisper in a dossier. A lie waiting to be told. And Aldrin, haunted by ghosts he buried in data cores and ash, senses the tremor before the quake. As old shadows stir and forgotten names reemerge—chief among them, Mara, the woman who burned the world beside him before vanishing—Aldrin begins to unravel not from weakness, but from prophecy. His stillness isn’t peace. It’s the pause before ignition. Allies become watchers. Watchers become threats. The city begins to hum with a vibration too ancient for technology and too deliberate for coincidence. Beneath the contracts and campaigns lies something deeper: A reckoning. And Aldrin knows—when fire returns, it won’t ask for permission. It will ask what he’s willing to burn to stay in control.

My name is Evren Lestir. Once, I was a girl who saw the world in colors so bright, they could warm even the coldest soul. But life has a cruel way of testing even the brightest flames. After losing everything I held dear, I drifted through a hollow existence—numb to the world, blind to its colors, and deaf to its call. I thought nothing could reignite the light I lost. Then The System found me. With shimmering blue panels and words that hummed like perfect promises, it pulled me into another reality—a maze of endless worlds stitched together by missions, monsters, and the illusion of progress. A labyrinth where forward was the only option. At first, I thought it was salvation. Each step, each battle, each drop of blood painted forgotten colors back into my world. I grew drunk on the hues I had lost, chasing the sky’s beauty with a childlike wonder, believing the fields and hills before me were all there was. But a torch shining in a narrow corridor can make even a prison look like a palace. In truth, I was a frog at the bottom of a well, gazing at a fragment of a sky—naïve to the infinite world beyond the gritty stone walls built by The System. But after a mistake in that omnipotent construct, I found myself peeking through a crack in the wall, presented with a fragment of the truth I never saw. This maze was never meant to be escaped. It was never meant to be climbed—not even to glimpse the sky beyond. Yet through that slender crack, a flicker of sunlight ignited something long-buried within me—a spark of the campfire I once carried. I will chase that light. I will see beyond these walls. And I will remember the world they tried to bury. Even if every strike I make against the walls sends ripples of ruin through the maze.

In a world drowned in endless light, where the very air hums with radiance and the last shadow faded from memory generations ago, one woman dares to dream of the impossible. Erya Sol lives beneath the unblinking gaze of a society where darkness is forbidden, privacy is treason, and the light is both law and prison. The cities blaze with brilliance; oceans shimmer from within; even grief is recorded in the bright archives. In this world of relentless exposure, there is no dusk, no night, no pause. Only the tyranny of the visible. But in the hidden bones of the earth, Erya has forged a secret. A device whispered of in outlawed legends—a dark bulb. A sphere that doesn’t emit, but erases. A creation not of light, but of its absence. And when she dares to activate it, even for a breath, the impossible happens. The light dies. In the perfect silence of that void, something ancient awakens. A presence patient beyond time, waiting beyond the brilliance. Now, hunted by the Assembly, haunted by what she has unleashed, Erya begins a journey to bring night back to the world. But the dark is not empty. And the truth it holds may unmake everything she seeks to save.

The Space Between Childhood and Growing up In a quiet, tree-lined neighborhood humming with lawnmowers, porch swings, and the endless echo of summer cicadas, three lives are set on a course that will forever intertwine. Skie, a Black girl with stars in her eyes and a voice too big for the walls around her, has always shared her world with Conner—her charming, loyal next-door neighbor and childhood best friend. They've grown up side by side, tethered by backyard games, scraped knees, and the kind of bond that doesn't need words. But everything begins to shift the summer a quiet moving truck pulls up to the house across the street. From it steps Dylan, an eight-year-old Korean boy with thick glasses, too many books in his arms, and a nervous smile. New to the country and to the language, Dylan finds himself an outsider—until Skie and Conner take him in, and the trio becomes inseparable. Over the span of ten years, their friendship weathers the seasons of growing up: awkward middle school crushes, high school heartbreak, cultural gaps, academic pressures, and unspoken feelings that hover like clouds between them. Now on the brink of adulthood, as they step into the uncharted territory of college life and personal independence, Skie, Conner, and Dylan must face the truths they’ve long buried. Who are they without each other? And can friendship survive the gravity of growing up? Offering deeper insight into pivotal moments and characters, *Vise Verse or The Space Between Childhood and Sky * is a powerful coming-of-age tale that explores race, identity, love, and the fragile, beautiful ties that hold us together—even when the world tries to pull us apart.

He was just a boy with a normal life—until the world shifted beneath his feet. One moment, he was heading out to meet his friends. The next, he awoke sealed inside a coffin, buried beneath earth that shouldn't exist and no clue where here is. Dragged from the grave by terrified strangers and left alone in a city where no one knows his name, he finds himself in a strange new world: medieval in stone but stitched with modern echoes. Magic hums in the air, technology runs on words, and strangers speak a tongue eerily familiar to his own. Hungry, homeless, and hunted by something he doesn’t yet understand, he begins to unravel the quiet horror sewn into this world—and into himself. Because the question isn’t how he got here. It’s why this world already had a grave prepared for him.

BL Dark romance Masochist Love can be found in the middle of nowhere. Either in a person, an animal, or even to an object. And I find it inside of a Devil disguised as a man. He might not be Lucifer, but he is one. When i run for a reason to die, he dragged me back to teach what devotion is like. Only to find myself wanting to do it all over again... Sadist Little wolf loves to play hide-n-seek. And the seeker will gladly take on the challenge. He's the kind that pushes my buttons, and the one that hums when he bleeds. Which is why I'm addicted at every sound he makes. Specially on several occasions. Keeping him bound in chains has me lusted in his image. And by the satisfaction of him being clueless. This is a story by a Legacy that defines what they truly are at the end. One might be the Savior who crawled out from Hell. And one that is responsible for the wrath it brings.

Seok Hye-su has long since moved on from her high school heartbreak—or so she thought. Life in Incheon is predictable, and that’s just how she likes it. But everything changes one chilly afternoon when the flashing of cameras and the hum of a growing crowd pull her attention. Turning the corner, she sees him: Dong Chan-wook, now a famous singer, surrounded by fans and media. Years ago, he was the boy who promised to love her forever, only to shatter that promise in pursuit of fame. And now, standing in the spotlight he left her for, he looks as shocked to see her as she feels to see him. As their paths unexpectedly cross again, old wounds resurface and sparks ignite. But fame has made Chan-wook untouchable, and Hye-su has vowed never to let herself be hurt again. Can they rewrite the story of their past, or are some chapters better left closed? In this heartfelt and unexpected reunion, Fame and First Love explores love, loss, and the question of whether some stars are meant to shine together—or apart.

In the heart of modern Delhi, where chaos hums beneath every honk and silence carries secrets, Aarvi Kapoor feels everything—too deeply, too precisely. A brush of cloth, a whispered lie, a door slammed miles away—her skin remembers it all. But when her once-normal life begins unraveling with visions she can’t explain and memories that don’t belong to her, Aarvi realizes this is not just sensitivity. It’s something… more. As she drifts through grief, betrayal, and the stillness of loneliness, chance encounters pull her into a quiet storm of others like her—each one tied. Strangers who seem drawn to her, yet connected by invisible threads stitched long before they ever met. But not every thread leads to safety. When old friendships turn hostile and mysterious powers awaken, Aarvi is forced to confront a past that hides more than pain—it hides purpose. Haunted by a girl in a coma, stalked by shadows no one else can see, and entangled in a connection with two boys—Rishi, the soulful musician who hears truth behind every word, and Tanav, the quiet photographer who sees things yet to come—Aarvi must decide: Is she meant to hold the threads together… or is she the one meant to unravel them? Some threads heal. Others cut. The sixth? It never lets go.

Many think of the afterlife, some think they will face the judgment of God, some think they will only fade away in the darkness of nothing or that they will be reicarnated in another world. Like any nerd and otaku, Kaio belived/hopped that will be the last option that would happened to hum when he died, and that's what happened to him, he just didn't expect it to turn into a dungeon. Now he will have to adapt quickly, if he want to survive in this new world, that seems like a mixture of a western fantasy world and eastern cultivation, as possibly the only Dungeon in the world.

The Third Young Master of the Hayndal's family, Azares, was known as a disgrace. He was seen as a weakling, that even servants would dare to mock him. He doesn't inherit the talent of Duke Hayndal, nor does he have any power. Therefore, his family decided to cut their ties and abandoned him. Much to their surprise, Azares calmly accepted it and packed his bag without a second thought. He was also humming a song of happiness. Everyone was bewildered, thinking that he must have gone crazy from sadness. Though, they are wrong. Azares whose tension completely disappeared was delighted about the situation that he went a little unrestrained and accidentally defeat the Knight Captain of Hayndal's First Division. The Fisrt Young Master who was as strong as the Captain: "....?" Then, Azares became a little careless that he burnt the training ground by mistake. Some of the kinghts were injured heavily and some were in the brink of death. The Second Young Master as a genius Elementalist: "...." When everyone thought that everything was bizarre enough, Fallen Angel, the most influential organization within the Empire demanded Azares to be their member. Was this their Third Young Master?