Sussur Bark

Alicia Quinn was an AV superstar and also a high-class courtesan who only dated billionaires and global elites. In secret, of course. They’d bark and howling just to have a wonderful night with her. On the outside, she appeared to be the happiest woman ever lived. Many women and men were jealous of all the wealth that she had after literally slaving herself in the industry since she graduated from the orphanage. She has everything that humans could ever wish for; money, multi million houses, luxury cars, you name it. But the truth is, she never felt real happiness, ever. Unbeknownst to anyone, she succumbed to severe depression. After nearly a decade of antidepressants abuse and a destructive lifestyle of drug use along with alcohol, something was developing inside her body until it was far too late to fix—Breast cancer. It was already at the fourth stage when she got diagnosed. She has no family, or even a close friend whom she could bequeath all of her wealth to. Knowing that death had knocked the door, she donated every penny, every asset under her name to the World Cancer Research Fund. Before she died, however, Alicia muttered her last words; “I wish, I could be reborn as a man, and fuck every hot chick in the world!” Due to her selfless act of donating all of her fortune, Goddess of Pleasure Lilithya granted her wish to live a second life. She offered Alicia multiple choice for her next life. However, she picked one particular choice which intrigued her the most. [Reborn as a Demon Queen; Pro: Absolute immunity to STDs, nearly infinite vitality and stamina, god-level strength, able to shoot lasers from the eyes, and so on. Cons: Being hunted by the hero’s party.] “It doesn't sound too bad. At least, I could live in freedom and do anything I wished for before the hero’s party cut my head off. A perfect ending for a sinner like me. Demon Queen it is then…” However, Goddess Lilithya knew her deepest desire. Just like that, Alicia has been reborn as a Demon Queen with a big D! Yes, you read it right my fellow men and women of culture. She became Demon Queen with a coxk. When push comes to shove, Alicia has no choice but to live with it. That said, will she be able to endure the endless cycle of arousal and constantly in heat while managing her Demon’s Kingdom?

Nova scrambled backwards, panting hard, her short locks clinging to her damp forehead as she watched this predator stalk towards her. The vibrant and lively forest hushed, almost holding its breath to watch the scene unfold. Great, she had an audience for what would surely be a gruesome death. Death looked... a little... rugged and in nothing but a loin cloth, defined by slabs of muscle, a trail of hair leading down to such a small piece of cloth to hide a large- A spine-chilling growl snapped her gaze back up to meet his golden-red eyes, fiery, and intense, glaring at Nova as he slammed his hands either side of her head. Pieces of bark crumbled down from the impact. "I told you not to run..." He threatened, his eyes piercing hers, his voice more guttural than she'd heard from any male. His eyes clenched shut as his body trembled. "My instinct is to always stalk, always chase... until I get what I want.." Their faces were inches apart. She could feel his hot breath fanning her face. The forest was humid and hot, and his body was so close to hers that it was almost unbearable. The gruff voice, those words and the intensity of those eyes that reminded her of sunsets caused goosebumps to flourish across her arms. "What do you want?" Nova swallowed, not recognising her voice. She was so out of her depth. His chest rumbled, and more bark crumbled down from behind her head. "You..." Her breath hitched. "To. Do. As. You're. Told." - Paradise was what Nova Winslow was promised when her boyfriend whisked her away to Isla De Tayun, the perfect getaway for their busy lives. It was untouched, pristine, a hidden gem. But it had remained that way for a reason. The island doesn’t want visitors. And neither do the natives. What should have been a romantic retreat, drinking from coconuts and lounging on white-sandy beaches together, turns into a holiday from hell. Mid-argument with her soon-to-be ex, Nova stumbles into a lake. When she resurfaces, her boyfriend, the path she came from, and the resort have vanished. Alone, stranded, and with little survival skills, Nova has only a wet phone with no signal, a pair of heels, and an irrational fear of bats—which are everywhere. She is out of her depth when she falls into a mystical world of beasts. Hunted by tribesmen, stalked by beasts that shouldn't exist, and hearing animals speak, she has no choice but to trust the wild beast the forest itself fears—Yoa, a wanted man. Together, they flee the tribes pursuing them all while battling her growing attraction to Yoa. Can she survive the wild and make it back to her civilised life? Or will she lose herself to the untamed world—and to the man who belongs to it? #Beast #Ssssteamy #Adventure #Mythical #R18 -- THERE WILL BE MATURE CONTENT!! -- If you are enjoying the story, please vote with a power stone, leave comments and review! -- Cover Image: In the middle of getting one commissioned. My Instagram: @kelly_starrz My new discord server: https://discord.gg/MHMdRRqUYa

Fifty thousand dollars!" someone barked like they were auctioning off livestock. That was the first thing I heard when I woke up—chained, collared, and confused. You’re probably wondering how I ended up here. Yeah… me too. One moment, I was yelling into a megaphone in front of Bio Gen Tower, protesting their twisted experiments on women’s fertility. The next? I was injected, blacking out as my protest sign got stomped into the pavement. I didn’t wake up in a hospital. I woke up in a whole new world. Here, I’m not a protester. I’m not even a person. I’m a Breeder. Apparently, my new body belongs to a rare class of women with "high fertility"—a walking womb meant to repopulate a kingdom on the brink. And just my luck? I was bought at a dark auction by five dangerously powerful Alpha brothers. Each one wants something different from me: The cold, commanding heir who sees me as property. The sly second who toys with me for fun. The hostage prince who hides daggers in every smile. And the wild twin brothers—charming, reckless, and always watching. They think I’m just a tool. A means to an heir. But I didn’t die fighting for women’s freedom just to become someone’s pet. They may have bought my body, but my mind? My fire? That still belongs to me. And if they think I’ll roll over and obey… They’re not ready for the kind of woman I really am. ---

After arriving in Japan, I became a high school student named Kamiyagawa. Looking around— Hanako crouched in the bathroom, waiting for someone to knock on the door; the Split-Mouth Woman wandered the streets with scissors in hand; Miss Mary's deathly calls echoed incessantly; the wails and barks in Inunaki Village never ceased; the Ubume searched for her long-dead child; the Aoandon smiled, enticing passersby to play with the lanterns of a hundred demons… In a crumbling world rampant with sinister tales and malevolent spirits, Kamiyagawa set a small goal for himself: "Defeat all the demons and monsters, and become the supreme ruler of ghosts and deities."

He exhaled the smoke from his cigarette as if releasing his soul. The ember dimmed, but the fire in his chest roared louder. “How did I become this chained to you?” he murmured, his voice hollow. “Like shackles on my heart… How does one leave when they were imprisoned in someone’s love? How did I, so cautious and aware, fall victim to you? And how does one heal from wounds carved by the one they trusted?” There was no reply. Just the silence of her gaze, fleeing from his. “Tell me,” he whispered, “how do I rip you from my chest when you’ve rooted yourself like a rose among thorns—cutting me every time I try to let go? I bleed when I forget you, I break when I hate you. What kind of curse is this? And now you ask for forgiveness… Tell me—will forgiveness teach me how to forget?” She blinked away tears, her voice trembling like a confession: “I hurt you… and I hurt myself too. Your wounds burn inside me like fire. Let me heal them. Let me give you my soul, fill your heart with a love that honors you, that redeems me. I’ll erase the pain with tenderness, heal you with my beauty, my cunning… I killed you, I know. Let me bring you back to life.” He crushed the cigarette between his fingers. Harshly, he barked: “Then bow.” She bowed, voice soft, eyes lowered. “And here I am, my love… I bow before your heart, in surrender. Will you forgive me now?” A wicked smile curled on his lips. “Stab my heart,” he said coldly. “Ask for forgiveness. Wish for death. Because my forgiveness… is fire. And in it, you shall burn.”

The first princess of the Cristiane Empire, Evelyn de P. la Cristiane, was a name that stirred whispers in every hall and alley of the empire—not out of admiration, but ridicule. Arrogant. Willful. Selfish. Those were the kinder words used to describe her. She shrieked at her maids for the smallest mistakes. She tore silk gowns just because she didn't like the shade. She ordered her meals to be thrown away simply because they weren’t “imperial enough.” Those who served her walked on eggshells, trembling with fear each day they woke up still assigned to the infamous Black Rose Palace. Black Rose—gilded on the outside, rotting on the inside. The palace farthest from the Imperial Heart, where warmth never reached, neither sunlight nor affection. It was where Evelyn was abandoned. The Empress had never even looked at her child. No one knew why. Throughout the empire, she was mocked and pitied. They called her "The Abandoned Princess," "The Unlucky Princess," and "The Powerless Princess." She was the object of ridicule across the empire. A royal in name only. And then one day, Evelyn tumbled down the grand staircase of her own neglected palace. A hard fall. A week-long sleep. Some thought it divine punishment, others, a mercy. But when she awoke, something was… different. The palace changed. No. Not the place. The princess. No tantrums. No smashed porcelain. No orders barked in fury. The princess who had terrorized her staff now sat quietly in her chamber, gazing out at the overgrown garden as if mourning something invisible. She sighed a lot. Didn’t speak unless spoken to—and even then, her words were slow, careful, small. She frightened her maids now, not with cruelty, but with calm. The truth was something no one could have imagined. Because the real Evelyn de P. la Cristiane was gone. In her place sat a girl with thousands of years behind her. A girl who remembered. --- She was an infinite reincarnator. Each life, each era, each world—forgotten the moment she died. Until now. The fall down the stairs had been just the right push. It shattered something open. And when Evelyn woke, she remembered everything—her countless pasts, the wars she had fought, the crowns she had worn, the magic she had wielded. --- But later, she realizes that she is actually being reincarnated into a reverse harem novel's world for thousands of years. A trashy reverse harem novel she read don't know how many years ago. A pretty setting, dramatic plots, an overly righteous heroine—and a pile of desperate male leads. Ugh. Evelyn didn’t care. Let the story play out as it wanted. Let the heroine win their hearts. Let the villains fall. She just wanted peace. Solitude. Maybe a quiet death this time. But fate, of course, laughed. --- At first, it was harmless. Soon, however, she began attracting unwanted attention. Men who were supposed to fall for the novel’s heroine began showing interest in her instead. At first, she ignored it. But as more and more of them appeared around her, even Evelyn started to feel uneasy. The heir to the Grand Duke. The captain of the Shadow Knights. The future master of the Mage Tower. The prince of a desert kingdom. A mysterious, wealthy merchant. The prince of the Elves. And it didn’t stop there. Men she didn’t even remember from the novel. Courtiers. Foreign envoys. One particularly daring priest. Even a villain character she vaguely remembered killing someone in chapter 23. They were all suddenly—unreasonably—interested. --- Evelyn: "Logically speaking, I’m the ancestor of your ancestor’s ancestor. So could you all just go away already?" She rubbed her temple, clearly irritated. Evelyn: "I’m already tired of this whole reincarnation mess. Don’t make me remember anyone’s name—I barely remember my own."

No.....she whispered. Before she could react, she was pulled toward an empty cage. The metal door opened, and she was shoved inside. She stumbled, catching herself against the cold bars. “You can’t do this. You can’t—” The door slammed shut behind her. “Prepare her,” one man barked. “Auction starts in ten.” A woman entered—beautiful, soulless eyes, carrying folded clothes and a black blindfold. “I suggest you cooperate,” the woman said calmly. “The others didn’t, and you don’t want to end up like them.” Diana didn’t move at first. But she didn’t fight either. She was numb. They changed her into a barely-there silk dress—dark red, almost like blood. Then tied the blindfold back over her eyes. She heard the other girls being led out. Then her turn came. She was hauled back to her feet and led through another narrow hallway. Voices grew louder. Music echoed faintly. She was on display now. She didn’t need sight to feel the eyes crawling over her skin. When they ripped the blindfold off, she was already standing in a glass cage. The spotlight hit her first—hot, humiliating. Her cage was positioned in the center of an elevated platform. Surrounding her in a perfect ring were masked men in tuxedos and shadowed faces. Power oozed from their silence. Money gleamed from their watches. Diana’s breath came in short, clipped bursts. An announcer’s voice sliced through the air. “Lot 7B,” he began. “Age twenty-two. Beautiful. Educated. Fiery temper, and as of this morning... untamed.” Laughter rose from the crowd. Her stomach turned. “Let’s begin bidding at twenty million.” “Twenty-five,” someone called. “Thirty.” “Forty-five.” “Sixty.” The number rose with every breath. Diana gripped the bars of the cage, heart slamming against her ribs. Then came a pause. A silence that rang louder than any noise. And then—calm, deep, distinct: “Four hundred million.”

Luna follows her best friend to a college on another planet that is light years away. While in her pod, it just so happened to go right into a newly opened worm hole. She finds herself on this weird planet with yellow grass, red-barked trees, and a purple sky. Good thing she loves survival shows and even cramped in the forest near her dad's house. But, it's a little hard with all the different colors. (In some chapter you will literally have to translate the chapters. The chapters will have more and more English in it as Luna learns the language. I will have a chapter just for the words and the language if you want to translate them. I will update it as I go.)

[Warning: Mature Content, R18+] Georgia Lewis had a carefully planned future. Marrying her longtime billionaire boyfriend, inheriting stability after the tragic death of her brother, and raising her orphaned niece in peace. Her brother’s death at sea, bruised and thrown to the waves, was declared a drunken accident pinned on a disgraced ship captain. The case was closed, but the wounds never healed. Georgia is left to pick up the pieces: taking over their bankrupt business, dodging loan sharks, and the angry people whom her father and brother owe… in fear. When her wealthy fiancé proposes marriage, promising protection and financial freedom, she accepts, not only for love, but for survival. But everything was shattered in an instant. Georgia was pushed overboard into the midnight sea. Thought dead by everyone on the ship, she survives... barely... only to be rescued by the last man she ever wanted to see again— Captain Nicholas Knight, the man once accused of her brother’s murder. Stranded on his cargo ship, Georgia is forced to trust Nick as she recovers. He’s intense, stoic, and shockingly kind—nothing like the killer she imagined. As the days pass, she learns more about who Nicholas really was, but Georgia remains haunted by betrayal and secrets. Nick risks his life for her. With survival as their only priority, passion burns hotter than the sun. But despite his hunger for her, he refuses to take advantage. Instead, he vowed to protect her, not use her. He teaches her how to fight, how to survive—and how to trust again. Determined to protect Georgia, Nick finally steps into his destiny. But enemies are everywhere. As passion and danger collide, Georgia and Nick must fight for their future, outsmart powerful enemies, and uncover a murderous conspiracy hiding in plain sight. But revenge comes at a price, and so does love. Yet the more she resists him, the more addicted she becomes. And when the world wants to silence her… He’s the only one who’ll burn it down to save her. Excerpt: “Goddammit, wake up! Don’t you dare die on me! I swear, if you make me regret jumping from that fucking moving ship—!” Her lashes fluttered, blurred by seawater and tears. “Are you awake?” the voice came again. He was closer now, his breath warm against her cheek. “Can you hear me?!” “I’m begging you… Someone tried to kill me… Don’t tell anyone you found me…” His brows furrowed. “What…? Were you pushed overboard?” Georgia barely managed to nod. But her body had had enough. Her eyes rolled back, her fingers slipped from his shirt, and her head fell against his shoulder just as she whispered, “Yes…” Then the memories crashed back. Salt water, freezing winds, her body going numb in the ocean… “Oh good, you’re awake,” Nick said and strode toward the bed. “Don’t come any closer!” she hissed. "I swear to God, I’ll scream the ship down if you come one step closer, you pervert!” “I know you...” Nick stiffened. “What now?” “You murdering son of a bitch!” she roared. Georgia grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at him. “What the hell? Are you insane?!” he barked, dodging the pillow. “You’re Nicholas Knight! You killed my brother!” Seeing her trembling, he lifted her effortlessly. “Let go of me!” she shrieked, squirming violently. “Stop—shit!” Nick lost his balance. “Maniac!” she declared. That’s when he felt it. Something soft. Plush. His head dropped like a guillotine blade, fast and sharp. His eyes locked on his right hand, which was currently cupping her like he was holding a fragile fruit from the gods. His soul left his body. But his body betrayed him. He was as hard as rock in an instant… Eyes bulging, jaw dropping, Nick choked on a curse. “Fuck.” Too bad he whispered it directly into Georgia’s face. Georgia's knee rocketed upward like a heat-seeking missile. “How dare you touch me, you Captain Pervert! Murderer!” she hissed. Nick wheezed in pain, clutching his groin. “I saved your life…”

The moment the dart struck my back, I staggered. Heat flooded my limbs, then numbness__ like my body was sinking while still standing. I heard Seraphina scream my name, but her voice sounded far away, like she was underwater. The cave blurred__ shadows dancing, lights spinning. My legs gave out _ I crumbled beside nyra. My hands resting on her wings. Was this how it ended? I blinked, the figures closed in. Then __ a roar. It wasn't nyra, not even human. The air changed _ electric and sharp. Like a storm had entered the cave. Then came the sound _ swift and brutal. I saw shadows, one in front of me__ nails long, curvy, eyes pure gold. She just killed one man with her bare hand. A gunshot. Another. A shout cut short. A man screamed. Something crashed hard against the wall. I tried to lift my head __ but to no avail. A blue of black and silver swept past me. Like a shadow but with purpose. A familiar voice barked "why the hell is she here". Low. Cold. Unforgiving. Draven? I tried to speak _ but couldn't. My lips moved, but nothing came out. Darkness bled in from the edge of my vision. The last thing I saw was Draven kneeling beside me _ gloved hands, lifting me up gently. His eyes were now pure gold. Anger. Wildness. Protection. Then nothing, only darkness

The sky smelled different. When Li Xiu opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was not the sky’s brightness or the canopy of unfamiliar leaves above him, but the scent—earthy, humid, sharp like crushed bark and smoke. Then came the pain. A dull ache pulsed behind his temples, like someone had struck him with a rock. He sat up groggily, wincing as dizziness made his vision swim. His hands were small. His arms—thin. His feet bare, caked with dried mud. He looked down at his body. It was… wrong. Too small. Too light. Like the limbs of a malnourished child. And then, the memories hit. Not his memories. Not all at once, but in fragments—mud huts and fire pits, cold streams and stone knives. A hunting spear too heavy to lift. A group of children laughing and shouting, calling him names in a tongue that he somehow understood. “Mu,” they called him. “Grass-Eater.” “Idiot.” “The one who spits meat.” Li Xiu clutched his head, panting. This wasn’t a dream. He had died. Or perhaps not quite died—but his body was gone. Left behind in some sterile lab, slumped over a desk cluttered with microgrid diagrams and empty coffee cups. And now, somehow, he had awoken in this world—no, in this body. The village was already awake. Smoke curled from cooking fires, and the scent of roasted meat drifted from the central pit. Women with painted faces stirred thick broth in stone pots. Men returned from the morning hunt dragging the carcass of something that looked like a cross between a deer and a boar, its tusks nearly as long as a man’s arm. A tall man—broad-shouldered, dark-eyed—spotted him and sneered. “Mu,” he barked, tossing something at his feet. A hunk of half-raw meat. “Eat, before the dogs do it for you.” Li Xiu stared at the meat, throat dry. It stank. He could see flies already gathering at the edges, and the fat was still twitching from leftover nerve reflexes. His stomach turned. He remembered, vaguely, that Mu—the original owner of this body—had always refused meat. Or more precisely, his body had refused it. Sensitive digestion. Vomiting. Nausea. The tribe believed it was weakness. Uselessness. A soul not worth calling back from the womb. But the original Mu hadn’t been able to explain it. Li Xiu could. He understood the importance of balance, of nutrition, of edible plants rich in minerals. He remembered how certain roots could be dried into powder, how leaves could be used to prevent infection. But in this world, none of that mattered. Meat was the food of warriors. Meat was the gift of the gods. Chewing leaves? That was for deer. Or worse, for idiots like him. Still, hunger gnawed at him. He turned from the meat and wandered toward the outer edge of the village, where the moss grew thick and the children rarely played. He crouched by a familiar patch of herbs—low-growing stalks with broad, silvery leaves. He recognized the scent: wild yarrow. Good for digestion. Slightly bitter. Edible. He plucked a handful and chewed thoughtfully, ignoring the whispers that followed him. “There goes the grass-boy again.” “Is he even human?” “He must be cursed.” Li Xiu didn’t reply. He sat on a flat stone beside the creek, watching the water ripple past, chewing slowly. His mind, though disoriented, remained sharp. This body might be young, small, and weak—but it had survived. For years. Alone in a tribe that mocked it. Somehow, Mu had lived with nothing but plants and scraps, instincts, and a strange sense of calm. And now, Li Xiu had inherited all that. He looked down at his stained hands, then at the huts in the distance, smoke curling against the morning sky. This wasn’t the life he had planned. But maybe… just maybe… It was a life he could rebuild. Not through hunting. Not through violence or brute strength. But through something far more enduring. Knowledge. And if all he had, for now, were weeds and roots and a brain full of engineering theory— Then so be it. The idiot boy who ate grass would

A florist goes about his day as usual, enjoying the sun with his plants. However, He finds something different in his garden and the next thing he knows, He has turned into a wooden golem in the middle of a forrest! Will he grow to reach the clouds or is he more bark than bite?

There's a forest where the trees grow men like fruit. Where the last survivor crawled home with bark for skin and a single word carved into his bones. Where the wind carries voices that aren't wind at all. The Hollow Creed calls it a warning. The Void Creed calls it a god. The nobles call it a myth. They named it The Hollow Orchard. But "We call it the end of the

The demon’s roar was a monstrous sound, shaking the rain-soaked streets like an earthquake. Its form twisted and writhing, a grotesque fusion of jagged horns, sinewy muscles, and eyes that burned with ancient hatred. It moved with terrifying speed despite its size, each step cracking the ground beneath like thunderclaps. Kaito felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as the air around him thickened, charged with his wind magic. His grip tightened on his sword, the blade shimmering as swirling gusts danced along its edge. The air whispered to him, bending to his will. “Stay close!” he barked to the others, eyes locking on the demon’s glowing core. That’s the weak spot, he thought. If we hit it, maybe we can end this quickly. Ren laughed—a manic, fierce sound that echoed over the storm. “End it quickly? Where’s the fun in that? Let me add a little fireworks to the party.” His pistols flared, flames licking out like twin dragons unleashed. Haru’s pale eyes flickered as he calculated the demon’s patterns. “Its movements are irregular—unstable. But it’s anticipating our attacks.” He stepped forward, hands weaving through the air, as if pulling invisible strings. “We’ll need to synchronize our strikes.” Daiki’s deep voice rumbled like the earth itself. “Then let’s bring the mountain down on it.” He slammed his fists to the ground, and the earth trembled. Cracks spiderwebbed across the cobblestones, rocks levitating with slow, deliberate power around his knuckles.

Heaven, contrary to her name is a walking hell, she was born to cause trouble along with her friends. But what happens when a little stunt pulled by her starts a full-fledged war with Leo,a.k.a cold stoned genius and unfortunately her sworn before born enemy. What happens when things spark between them and let's not forget the troubles the future has stored for them. Let's join them in the journey of friendship,chaos, romance and action. ************************************************** Don't say it heaven, don't say it. " Hey tinker bell " Shit me and my fucking  mouth. And here we go. If looks could kill i would be seven feet under the ground along with Dumbledore. What? Girl gotta have some company. " I will fucking kill you if you call me that again " Leo barked furiously. " The pixie dust you are leaving behind your trail is a justifying reason for that name" I said. He angrily stride towards me and caged me between the wall and him. I tried to duck from his arms but my said attempt was a pathetic one as he again blocked me successfully. " I dare you to say that again "He whispered dangerously. I looked for help but find none. I will have to use plan B. " Leo you are a good person. You are the best of all. You won't like to get blood on your hands right?" I pleaded with my eyes. " Actually no, getting your blood on my hands will be greatly enjoyed by me and i would be doing a favor to the world by killing you ". He remarked. Then let's go fo plan C. " Sorry for not being sorry tinker bell ". I said with an evil look and lifted my leg to kick his baby making system right on the point but he suddenly stopped my leg with one of his hand so I did second best thing to inflict pain on human species. I gripped both of his nipple and twisted them as my life depended on it  'cause duh my life really depended on it. And when he left me to tend to his bruised nipple while screeching like a hyena I made a beeline to the safety of my Classroom.

Children of the Hush On the fringe of a forgotten village, a forest whispers to those who feel unseen. They call it the hush — an ancient hunger that lures runaways, broken children, and grief-stricken souls into its tangled embrace. Once it knows your name, it weaves your memories into its roots and devours the rest. Rafi never believed the hush could claim him — until the day he loses everything and flees into the trees. There he finds the braid girl, another lost child who survived by becoming part of the hush’s secret. Together, they navigate a nightmare of living bark, fossil mouths, and dreams that bleed through waking life. Season by season, they fight to carve their own path through this haunted forest. Each step brings revelations: the hush is no mindless monster, but a ritual born from old sorrow — and it grows smarter with every heart it consumes. When new runaways crown themselves kings and prophets of the hush, Rafi must choose: destroy the forest’s mind once and for all — or let it seed a new generation of shadows and bones. In the end, not all children escape unchanged. Some become guardians. Some become stories. And some remain, silent as the roots, to warn those who dare listen: not all whispers are kind.

Jeffery Hoffman was certain I was his destined mate. He spent ten years trying to win me over, and last month, when my wolf finally awakened, fate confirmed it—he had become my mate. But on the eve of our wedding, I overheard him speaking with a friend. "You're really going to marry Bella Ford? What about that sexy she-wolf you've been seeing on the side?" There was a long pause before Jeffery replied, "She was just a snack while I was waiting for Bella to be confirmed as my mate. How could she compare? Bella is the real deal." "If she doesn't stir up trouble, I might even keep her around," he added with a smirk. "Bella’s very tolerant—she wouldn’t mind." The next day, that snack, Fiona, showed up and caused a massive scene at our wedding. In front of everyone, she shoved me off the stage. I stumbled and hit the floor hard, pain radiating through me—but Jeffery didn’t come to me. He ran past me. Straight to her. Fiona was holding a shard of broken glass to her throat, tears streaming down her face as she cried out, “Do you choose me or Bella Ford?” Jeffery turned to me in a frenzy. “Get lost!” he barked, shoving me aside. “I need to take her to the hospital. If anything happens to her, you’ll pay with your life!” In that moment, something inside me shattered. My wolf cried, and my heart died.

"The Last Bark of Orion" Bolt isn't your average Siberian Husky. Cruising the cosmos aboard the freighter Wanderlust with his pragmatic human captain, Eva Rostova, he’s a wisecracking, genetically-enhanced canine with the ability to talk and senses that reach beyond human understanding. His life, already extraordinary, catapults into the heart of an ancient galactic war when a mysterious signal from the Orion constellation awakens dormant ancestral memories within him—terrifying echoes of an eons-old conflict between star-faring Canid and Felid empires, both engineered by a vanished, god-like race known as the Progenitors. Plunged into a universe of intrigue and escalating danger, Bolt and Eva discover the truth behind the legends. The "Heart of Orion," a colossal and fractured Progenitor power source, pulses with unimaginable energy—a force that ruthless factions from both Canid and Felid empires now desperately seek to control, believing it the ultimate weapon. They see Bolt, with his unique Progenitor-linked "seed of hope" granting him profound empathy and a unique connection to the Heart, as the unwilling key to taming and wielding its devastating might. Hunted across the stars by formidable warlords who misunderstand the cryptic prophecy of "The Last Bark of Orion" as a command for conquest, Bolt is caught between warring ideologies. As he grapples with the terrifying allure of the power the Heart offers and the immense pressure to choose a side, his "First Echoes"—shared, agonizing memories from both sides of the conflict—pull him towards a different path. He begins to suspect that the "Last Bark" isn't a call to arms, but a complex, misunderstood Progenitor failsafe designed not to empower a victor, but to heal the fractured Heart and perhaps the galaxy itself. With Eva as his anchor, Bolt must navigate treacherous alliances and deadly confrontations, racing against time to understand the true nature of the Last Bark before the Heart of Orion is unleashed as a doomsday weapon. His choice will determine not only his own fate but whether the galaxy succumbs to an even greater cataclysm or takes its first fragile step towards a new dawn, founded on understanding rather than endless war.

"You're back!" Elara sprang from the wooden bench near the door as her brother stepped inside, bruised and bleeding. "Caelum, what happened this time?" she gasped, rushing to his side. Caelum Solis, a lean young man with tousled brown hair and piercing blue eyes, winced as he slumped into a chair. "Nothing new. Just a couple of thugs who wanted my coin more than I did," he muttered. They lived alone—just the two of them. He was all she had left, and she was the reason he kept going. Though he’d trained enough to pass the Guild’s physicals, his damaged mana core had left him stranded at F-rank, doing odd jobs no real adventurer wanted. Finding lost pets. Cleaning stables. Picking herbs. Barely scraping by. Elara, though gifted, suffered from a mana sickness that slowly stole her sight. Her treatment was expensive, and Caelum pushed himself to the brink just to afford the basics. Still, it was never enough. That night, as he tucked her into bed, he whispered, “Tomorrow, I’ll change everything.” --- At the edge of a newly discovered dungeon, Caelum stood behind a party of stronger adventurers. They snickered. “Dead weight’s here,” one said under his breath. He ignored them. He always did. Darius Flint, the B-ranked leader, raised a hand. “Standard sweep. It’s marked D-rank, but stay alert.” They entered the cave-like dungeon, and at first, everything was simple. Feral goblins. Weak beasts. The team barely broke a sweat. Caelum trailed behind, hauling gear. Only one person treated him kindly—Arianne Vale, a C-ranked healer with silver hair and a sharp tongue for bullies. Hours passed. Then the dungeon began to tremble. “Is it collapsing?” someone asked. “No... it’s shifting,” Darius muttered. “Stay close.” Then came the roar—deep, guttural, wrong. Darius's face paled. “Retreat! Everyone fall back!” But the floor gave way. They dropped into a massive chamber ringed with statues holding weapons. In the center, blazing with living fire, was the Pyroclasm—a beast of flame and fury. People panicked. Two adventurers made a break for the exit and were instantly decapitated by the animated statues. “Form a circle!” Darius barked, but chaos had already taken hold. A statue lunged. Caelum grabbed Arianne and dove aside. “Behind us!” he shouted. Adventurers were being cut down left and right. Desperate, Caelum yelled, “Run toward the Pyroclasm!” “Are you insane?” someone cried. “We’ll die either way!” Dragging Arianne, he sprinted forward. The Pyroclasm shrieked and surged toward him—then vanished into him. Caelum screamed as fire tore through his veins. His body writhed, burning... then exploded in a shockwave. The statues faltered. “Flame adaptation: mastered.” He rose. Flames clung to him like armor. Statues charged. He raised his hand—and fire answered. Explosions. Destruction. “Golems destroyed. Leveling up.” As silence fell, he collapsed, still smoldering. “Heal him!” Darius shouted. Arianne was already by his side.

So picture this— You’re skinny, kinda nerdy, and your only real skill is... crafting chairs. Not exactly hero material, right? Your family agrees. They tell you you’re useless, toss you out like expired cheese, and boom—now you’re alone in the woods with no food, no money, and probably an allergy to bark. Naturally, you walk into a random cave (because bad decisions build character), find a glowing ring, a crusty old hoe, and then—ding!—congrats, you’ve unlocked the most busted farming system in the multiverse. Welcome to your new life: farming with an overpowered hoe that can grow anything. Like... literally anything. Want sword trees? Chaos berries? Fire-breathing potatoes? You got it. And oh, there's a secret world you can plant in. No people. Just monsters, dragons, mystery chickens, and land that goes on forever. Our guy? He has no idea what he’s doing. But that’s what makes it fun. He’s gonna grow crops, build kingdoms, make friends with vampires, and maybe accidentally start a few wars—with vegetables. This isn’t your average “chosen one” story. This is the saga of a man, a hoe, and enough dirt to make God nervous. Ready to dive in? Good. Just don’t blame me when you start wishing your garden could shoot lasers

“I’ll buy you… but from now on, you’re mine. Your body. Your mind. Your obedience.” Hazel was just weeks away from graduating university. Instead… she was sold. Betrayed by the only family she had left, Hazel is handed over to Mr. Eduard Mitchwell—a ruthless billionaire with three wives and one obsession: selling beautiful humans to monsters with too much money. Hazel, with her innocence and angelic beauty, wasn’t meant to be loved. She was meant to be auctioned like art. But the night a stranger locked the door behind him… everything changed. The man tried to break her. Strip her of hope. Crush her spirit. Until he walked in. A shadow. A storm. A savior cloaked in sin. > “Who the hell are you?” the man barked. But when he saw the intruder, his voice trembled. “S–Salvatore De Rossi…” he stuttered—then fled without another word. Salvatore didn’t speak. He simply turned to leave. But Hazel dropped to her knees—tears streaking her cheeks, voice cracking like shattered glass. > “Please… don’t leave me here. Not unless you want another man to rent me next…” He didn’t stop walking. > “Why would I care?” But then she cried out again. > “Please…” He froze. Slowly, he turned—his gaze sharp, merciless, carved from ice. Then, he crouched before her with a smirk that could ruin kingdoms. > “I don’t do charity work, my love.” > “Please,” she begged. “I’ll do anything.” > He tilted his head, amused. “Do you even know who you’re bargaining with?” > “Who are you?” she asked, barely breathing. He leaned in, lips brushing her ear. > “I’m the devil.” Her breath hitched. But she didn’t move. Didn’t run. Didn’t fight. > “I don’t mind,” she whispered. “Just don’t leave me…” His smile darkened. Dangerous. Divine. > “Then you’re mine.” And that was the moment Hazel’s fate was sealed. No longer a prisoner. No longer a girl to be bought and sold. Now, she belongs to him—the man with fire in his eyes and blood on his hands. But in Salvatore De Rossi’s world, obedience is survival… and love is a war no one wins. > She just signed her soul to the devil. The only question is… Will she ever want it back?

Thanks for the detailed prologue! Here's a follow-up 2000-word continuation of your story, picking up from the end of the previous scene: --- Chapter One: The Test Begins The halls of U.A. High School buzzed as students exchanged whispers about the new combat instructor. Logan's imposing presence had struck a chord deep within the hearts of Class 1-A, and even the most spirited among them, like Bakugo, had been momentarily silent after his introduction. Now, they waited — some anxiously, others with fierce resolve — for their first session under this mysterious warrior. The next day dawned crisp and clear. Morning rays glinted off the windows of the training grounds — or rather, a part of the facility students had rarely entered. It was the “Restricted Training Sector,” typically reserved for upperclassmen or emergency simulations. Aizawa led Class 1-A down the stone path that wound around the school building and stopped at a heavy metal door reinforced with shock-resistant plating. “You’ve trained in controlled environments,” Aizawa said, voice calm but firm. “Today, that changes. What lies behind this door isn’t a battlefield we’ve prepared for you — it’s one Logan designed. Go in expecting to be surprised.” With a click and a hiss of hydraulics, the door creaked open. Inside lay an urban warzone: crumbling buildings, overturned vehicles, smoke machines simulating burning debris, and hidden speakers emitting distant screams and explosions. It was a visceral, immersive replica of an actual crisis. Standing at the center, arms folded, was Logan. “Get in here,” he barked. The class stepped in, eyes scanning the chaos. Even Midoriya’s encyclopedic mind, so used to categorizing threats and building strategies, faltered for a second. Logan began to pace. “This is a simulation based on a real event. A quirk-powered terrorist group attacked a residential district. Civilians were trapped. The pro-heroes were overwhelmed. I’m not interested in who’s the strongest today — I’m interested in who thinks, who acts, and who breaks.” He turned to Aizawa. “They don’t know the rules yet?” Aizawa shook his head. “It’s all yours.” Logan nodded. “You’ll be operating in pairs, randomly assigned. Your job? Locate and evacuate civilians — marked dummies — while avoiding or neutralizing enemy threats. You’ll be scored on strategy, teamwork, and adaptability. Fail to act quickly or put your partner at risk, and you’ll be pulled out.” He paused. “And if you’re thinking this is like the rescue training you’ve done before, think again. This time, the threats fight back.” A panel opened in the wall, revealing humanoid combat drones — tall, heavily armored, some equipped with blunt-force weapons, others with mounted stun guns. A wave of unease rippled through the class. Even Bakugo's confident sneer twitched. Logan raised his voice. “Pairing list is on your comms. You’ve got five minutes. Move.” The students’ wrist-mounted comm devices blinked to life. Midoriya’s eyes scanned the screen. He was paired with Tokoyami. An odd combination — but intriguing. Tokoyami’s strategic darkness paired with Midoriya’s analytical mind might just be the edge they needed. Ochaco had been paired with Bakugo — a combination she clearly didn’t see coming, judging by her visible flinch. Bakugo, for his part, scoffed and turned away, muttering about “not babysitting.” Kirishima found himself with Yaoyorozu. Todoroki, surprisingly, was paired with Mineta — a move that clearly frustrated both of them for different reasons. Logan observed the reactions carefully. Each choice had been intentional. “Simulation starts in three... two... one...” The lights dimmed, the speakers blared the sound of collapsing buildings, and the class scattered into the mock urban warzone. --- Midoriya & Tokoyami “Let’s head east,” Midoriya whispered, crouching behind a collapsed bus. “We need high ground. Maybe from that half-standing apartment building we can get a layout.

"Are you insane? Let me go!" She barked,trying to free herself from his strong arms that tightly and aggressively held her. "I will let you go,but before then,I want to remind you of something,in case you've forgotten. "The only darn thing keeping us under the same roof,is the stupid contract marriage our parents signed. "I do not love you,and never will. I don't even have any feelings for you" He spat,disgustedly. "Just so you know,I have a girlfriend that I love. So,stay off my lane and live happily!" He gruffly said,yanking her hand off without caring. °°° It's like they always say, " Marriage is sweet when you marry right". That feeling when you say "I do" to the one you love. That satisfied and sweet feeling when you marry the man or woman you are mádly in love with. Sweet,right? But,what happens when you say,yes! And marry the one you do not have any feelings for? Not sweet,right? Let's meet Caesar Ruslee,an incredibly handsome 25 years old Thailand guy. A billionaire,Celebrity and owner of CISCO AUTOMOBILE COMPANY. He's a hot talented actor whom ladies dìe for because of his incredibility. He's got the looks,the money,that kind of body every lady desires in her man. He is super sèxy,dark hair and eyes. A beautiful smile that will melt your heart away like candle wax. He smiles a lot,but that doesn't mean he's the coolest person you would ever meet. Caesar is a proud and cold hearted jerk. The only person he cares about and loves,is Cindy,his girlfriend and maybe his mom. Caesar has a girlfriend,but is married to someone else,through a contract marriage that was signed and sealed by both parents,right from their childhood. They did that to save their business alliances. Now,let's meet Georgia Singto,a 23 years old Thailand lawyer,who bagged her degree just few months ago. She's one of the most beautiful ladies you'd ever meet in Thai. Feel free to call her smiley, because she smiles a lot. He smiles can heal a broken hearted soul. She's so hot,with a kìller body that get men drooling. Dark and séxy eyes,brown long hair,cute lips,beautiful smiles. All in all,she's a beautiful and brilliant Lawyer who has won many cases already. Yea,she comes from a very rich family too. I'll describe Georgia as a chameleon. Because,she changes at any time. She can be crazy,fun,boring,annoying,loving,caring,sweet,stubborn,or cool at any time. Well,she's married to the almighty Caesar,and they both have no feelings for each. They loathe each other more than anything,but live under the same roof. What happens when she started developing feelings for her husband who she despised? What happens when Caesar still got no feelings for her? Now,what happens when Caesar finally falls deeply for her,but it was too late?

… “One fifty.” I heard someone shout. “One sixty.” Another said immediately. “Two hundred.” “Five hundred thousand dollars.” “Five hundred thousand dollars, going once, going twice, sold.” Cesar announced and everybody clapped. “What was that?” Drego barked. “What?” I blinked, my smile slowly dissipating. “Why did you agree to stand up there? And looking like this for that matter.” I frowned. “Like what?” “Did you enjoy the fact that men were bidding on you like some prost—” My palms flew and landed on Drego’s face before I could understand what I was doing. “You don’t get to judge how I decide to look. Who the hell do you think you are to judge me? I did what I did for charity. You’re my boss, don’t cross any lines.” I turned around to leave. “Wait. Nichole I’m sorry.” He said more calmly. I looked at him again. “Because I told you that I was in love with you doesn’t make it okay for you to get involved in my personal life and decisions.” “It’s not like—” “Don’t worry. The day I quit was my first day getting over you. You don’t have to worry about that crazy talk. I’m over you. And I’ll leave your company the second you find my replacement and you won’t have to see me anymore.” “Nichole please listen—” “Drego, you’re up.” Reid came outside. His expression changed. It was no surprise. The tension between Drego and I was palpable. “Is everything okay?” Reid asked. “Yeah.” I replied. “We are done here.”

The forest pulsed with life, the scent of rain clinging thick in the air. The moon hung heavy overhead, a silver eye watching—waiting. Beneath it, the alpha stood at the clearing’s edge, broad shoulders tense, golden eyes locked on the lone figure before him.The omega was smaller, leaner, his dark curls damp from the mist. His chest rose and fell with measured breaths, but there was no fear in him. No submission. Just something wild, something defiant.The alpha’s wolf stirred, restless. Wrong. Omegas were supposed to lower their gaze, bare their throats, yield. This one? He met the alpha’s stare head-on, lips curling at the edges like he knew exactly how much that would piss him off.“You shouldn’t be here.” The alpha’s voice was a low growl, his instincts warring between warning and… something else.The omega tilted his head, sharp amusement flashing in his dark eyes. “And yet, here I am.”A challenge.Something in the alpha snapped. In a blur, he closed the distance, caging the omega against the nearest tree. Heat crackled between them, the scent of pine and something dangerous filling the air. The omega didn’t flinch, didn’t shrink back. Instead, he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, like he was tasting the tension between them.“You’ve got a death wish,” the alpha murmured, his breath ghosting over the omega’s skin.The omega smirked. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like watching you lose control.”The alpha’s hands curled into fists against the bark. This omega is going to be the death of me

A reincarnation. A forgotten empire. A second chance beneath a blood-red sky. --- “So… let me get this straight,” Baoyu leaned in, frowning. “You were a royal scholar in the Yuan Dynasty, got framed, died tragically, and then—what—woke up in a jungle palace somewhere in ancient Sunda?” Li Tianhe—well, *Ragaputra* now—half-smiled, toying with the pendant that pulsed faint blue light against his chest. “Technically, it was a forest temple. And I wasn’t just a scholar. I was a tactical advisor, thank you very much.” Baoyu blinked. “Bro, you were twenty and already wearing those weird black robes like you knew how the world worked.” “And now I wear bark-textured armor and argue with spirit tigers.” Tianhe sighed. “Funny how life… or death… works.” --- In a world where ancient China crossed paths with the secretive kingdom of Pajajaran, **fate weaves across dynasties**. *Li Tianhe*—once a disciplined, calm, and brilliant strategist of the Yuan court—meets his end not on the battlefield, but through betrayal, scapegoated for a crime soaked in imperial politics. He never saw it coming. Until he opened his eyes again, reborn beneath the canopy of tropical stars. Now he’s **Ragaputra Maheswara**, the illegitimate son of a vanishing concubine no one dares name, with fragments of ancient texts burned into his soul and a weapon of Sunda origin pulsing at his side. A kujang of blue flame. --- “Let me ask you this,” Tianhe said, staring at the stars with a rare softness in his voice. “If your second life begins in a land that speaks with its forests, writes in forgotten scripts, and remembers history through the bones of kings—do you try to live quietly?” Baoyu shrugged. “Not when your *first* life was a mess because you stayed quiet.” “Exactly.” --- But Pajajaran is not a peaceful kingdom. *It is a crossroad of worlds*: * Riddled with mystical **Wangsakerta manuscripts** * Guarded by the **ghosts of treaties with ancient China** * Haunted by the **mist-shrouded figure of Prabu Siliwangi**, the last king who vanished… but never truly left. And somewhere in those ruins, hidden between **rituals, rebellion, and royal secrets**, lies the truth behind the **Prasasti Langit**—the Sky Inscription—that binds Tianhe’s two lives together. --- So what’s the deal? The Yuan Dynasty thought they erased him. But in the deep woods of Sunda, the sky remembered. And Ragaputra? He’s not just surviving. He’s rewriting the game—one ancient prophecy, one ghost-pact, one flaming kujang at a time. Because this time… He remembers everything. --- *Think of it like Avatar: The Last Airbender meets Nirvana in Fire meets Nusantara’s hidden history—told through daily banter, mystical past lives, political chessboards, and the quiet weight of a boy caught between empires.* Ready to uncover what the sky never forgot?

Synopsis – Ashes in the Riverwind Genre: Slow Fantasy / Character-Driven Mystery / Soft Magic In the mist-laden valley of Thornepass, life drips by like water through moss: slow, steady, and tangled in silence. The village of Edenrock is old—not grand, not poor, just old. Its people live close to the soil and closer still to each other’s secrets. They hold festivals for the changing fruit. They write poems in the bark of birch trees. And though the world outside has shifted—grown louder, hungrier, more mechanical—Edenrock remains untouched, or so its residents would like to believe. Then comes Nerin, a pale stranger with scholar’s hands and a satchel of half-scorched journals. He claims to be a traveling apprentice-scribe, assigned to copy the local stories and dialects. But his silences stretch a little too long, his gaze lingers a little too much on the half-buried stone obelisks, and his dreams seem too vivid for a man who sleeps so little. Still, no one pays him much mind. The Festival of Stonefruit is approaching, and there are tents to mend, bread to bake, and gossip to spread. The real story does not begin with Nerin. It begins with a toothless dog that keeps digging in the orchard. It begins with a little girl who draws dreams she should not remember. It begins with water that tastes faintly of ash, and a wind that carries words no one speaks anymore. Ashes in the Riverwind is not about saving the world. It is about noticing the slow rot in the walls before they fall. It is about people whose lives are so quiet, they barely hear themselves unraveling. Magic, if it exists, does not announce itself. It hums beneath the floorboards. Some things in Edenrock were never buried deep enough.

“I'm on the hunt for someone special, someone who would howl at the full moon with me. And you, my dear, seem to check all the right boxes,” Thorin tried to seduce Riona with his mesmerizing gaze. “Not in this lifetime, not in any lifetime.” But Riona couldn’t stand the sight of that smug face. What did Thorin hope to gain from a fangless vampire who couldn’t even turn into a bat, anyway? There must be something seriously wrong with the brain of that infuriating Alpha werewolf. *** Since their parents died, Riona Kahler and her brother have been adopted by the King of Eira, who treats them more like overworked houseplants than a cherished family. As the only vampires in Eira without fangs, they're outcasts among their own kind, toothless and ridiculed. Riona's spirit remains unbroken until her brother falls ill due to the palace's cruelty. Determined to protect him, Riona vows to escape, but there's only one way to do that. Thorin Klein is one of the most famous Alpha werewolves, renowned not only for his charming looks but also for claiming the Alpha title at the tender age of thirteen. Despite his howling success, his mother’s powerful werewolf clan, the Klein, never acknowledged him because his father went rogue. Determined to prove his worth to the Klein clan, Thorin believes he has finally found a potential solution. Though Riona couldn’t stand being around Thorin for more than one second, Riona realizes that marriage is their only path to achieving their goals. It's a love story that bites and barks in all the right places. #werewolf #Alpha #vampire #fromslavetoqueen #enemiestolovers #strongFL #contractmarriage

The streets were a mess — broken cars, scattered loot, zombie groans echoing through the air. Kim Byeol-ha sprinted at the back of a terrified crowd, his hands casually stuffed in the pockets of his ragged hoodie. A dull thought floated lazily in his mind. “Should I make ramen tonight? Or maybe... tteokbokki? Something spicy sounds nice…” Behind him, a monstrous zombie let out an ugly screech. Byeol-ha glanced over his shoulder, yawned, then slightly shifted his wrist. Puff. The zombie's head exploded without warning, but he didn't even blink. No one noticed. Everyone was too busy screaming. At the front of the street, a group of well-armed fighters burst into view. Their leader — tall, broad-shouldered, in sleek black tactical armor — pointed his gleaming sword forward with authority. “Everyone behind me! We'll protect you!" Baek Ryeo-woon, commander of District 9, the textbook definition of a hero. Byeol-ha stopped running. “Ah. It’s the overachiever type.” He scratched his head and turned to the side, casually strolling toward a side alley to avoid getting drafted into some dumb citizen protection program. Meanwhile, Baek Ryeo-woon spotted Byeol-ha slipping away like a lazy cat ditching chores. "You!" he barked sharply. "Stay with the group!" Byeol-ha tilted his head lazily, eyes half-closed. “Mm? Why?” His voice was soft, almost sleepy. “It's dangerous, idiot!” Ryeo-woon shouted, cutting down two zombies with clean, practiced strikes. “You want to die alone out there?” Byeol-ha considered it seriously. "Not really. But if I die, at least I won't have to worry about dinner," he muttered, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. Baek Ryeo-woon stared at him like he'd just grown a second head. "Who the hell worries about dinner during an evacuation!?" He stormed toward Byeol-ha, grabbed him by the back of the hoodie like a stray cat, and physically dragged him back into the crowd. Byeol-ha grumbled under his breath, getting hauled like a shopping bag. "Geez, musclehead. Let a guy think about tteokbokki in peace." Meanwhile, Ryeo-woon growled low, half-annoyed, half-baffled: "Great. Just what I needed. Another helpless civilian with no survival instincts." Neither of them knew yet — one was the hidden protector of the entire city, the other... was about to fall hopelessly in love with a boy who cared more about spicy rice cakes than zombie apocalypses.

‘I’m but a tree, hence I cannot help you. My own roots are stuck in the belly of Mother Earth, hence I cannot reach you. No eyes adorn my bark, hence I cannot cry for you.’ In the year 1500, a tree tormented by his own memory and prejudices, encounters various figures. This story may not be suitable for some readers as it contains elements that may be uncomfortable. 'Amidst the Sand' deals with themes such as mental abuse, trauma, assault, foul language, and possibly ideological sensitive material. Please exercise discretion when engaging with this story and seek out support if you require it. Writing contest #62: reincarnated as a tree.