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Hermione Gets To Know The Ex Death Eater

Ataraxia : Ex Love, Ex Life

(GL) Confident Mess x Cold Raging Fire - - - Author Renée Laurent receives an invitation to an old university friend's wedding. The venue will be on a private island, but that's not the only 'hassle'. A certain someone will be there and it's forcing her to properly evaluate some of her past choices. Recently minted environmental lawyer Ayla Bozkurt. A relationship that started early in University and went on for over two years. One that Renée ended herself without explaining properly... She thought it was the right thing to do at the time, with her mental health fraying. Now, Renée thinks she wants to see her again on the island just to show that she is in a good place with her life. That's all. After all, the relationship is dead... isn't it? An ending that happened because of a misunderstanding and a lack of communication. In close proximity and stuck with her for a while, will one pounding heart awaken the willingness in the other to finally talk? - - - The author cups her hands around the moon shining above before looking over at her ex. "I used to hate the night. The moonlight reminded me of what I couldn't touch anymore." The lawyer whose name means 'halo of moonlight' watches her with a cold face, but inside she is as hotly rattled as ever. "...What do you mean by saying this?" - - - A young law student had been trying to disparage her writing profession to Ayla in a public setting. Renée steps closer to the young woman after confidently defending herself to land a final soft blow. "But you were making her uncomfortable with this instead of me." The wealthy ex who thought she had been hiding her displeasure at her junior talking down to someone clenches her wine glass. Was she so easy to read for her, or... is she just paying that much attention?
Seraphelki · 18.6K Views

Ex wife Getting her life back is isn’t easy

Helen settled in the living room, the silence heavy like an unwelcome weight. The only sound in the room, the soft ticking of the wall clock, reminded her that time was going—time she no longer wanted to count. Her mind a mist of thoughts, she subconsciously followed the edge of her coffee mug, her fingers fluttered slightly. None of the questions gnawed at her throughout the long, sleepless night could be answered. \n \n She had only arrived from the hospital early that morning. The doctor's words pulsed in her mind like an unusual symphony: *You're pregnant, Helen. Your baby is now. The child was not anybody's kid. This offspring was Jack's. She ought to have felt something, should have been elated, but she did not. No happiness came from the news. Not today at all. Not after everything that had turned out. For months now, Jack had withdrawn. At first there were minor indicators—forgotten anniversaries, the sudden late work hours, the missed phone calls. But everything changed when she discovered the lipstick on his shirt collar, the one that was not hers, the one she was sure didn belonged to anyone he worked with. He didn't even attempt to hide it. Though he was not one to be totally truthful either, Jack was not one to fib. \n \n The door banging wide open disrupted her thinking. \n \n Jack's fists clenched at his sides in the doorway, his face red with fury. Once warm and love for her, his eyes were now cold and free of any compassion. "Helen," he howled, his voice cutting, "I want a divorce." The words stung her as a slap to the face. The way she felt she knew everything came undone was as if the planet moved below her. Her stomach turned and her heart pained. Things were not meant to be like this. Her trust, her love, her dedication she had provided him. And still, here he was saying she is over. Jack waited not for an answer. His eyes on hers, he tore into the room. He appeared more furious than she had ever seen him. "I'm seeing Jane," he snapped out, as though he had just revealed a new line of sneakers. Your worst enemy. the one who really knows how to make me happy. Helen is better than you. She is more sensitive, finer, and more affectionate. She truly pays attention when I speak; not like you." \n \n Helen's throat clenched as she fought to consume the lump of bitterness rising inside her. Jane? The idea of it made her stomach turn with a combination of shock and treachery; this very same Jane with whom she had been loved for years? How might Jack accomplish this? How could he betray her with the one person she trusted most? Jane wasnuggested completed. "You at most can't give me a child," he went on venomously. "I maybe do not even know why I am still here. For years you have been infertile. I must not continue living like this. I need someone who can provide me the future—someone who can fulfill me. Helen blinked, his words piercing her heart like stings. She opened her mouth to talk, to justify herself, to describe how she had exhausted every means to conceive, but the words caught in her throat. It was pointless. Jack had his mind fixed. Already left, he would not change no matter what she said. \n \n Her lips released a cold, derisive laugh, a hushed sound that sounded like it echoed all over the otherwise quiet room. "You believe it is that simple?" she said, her voice full of feeling trembling. "You believe you can simply discard everything we have developed because you found someone else? Simply younger, simply prettier, simply someone who can give you children?" Jack's eyes stiffened, his jaw set, and he walked a step toward her. Absolutely. Whenever first person pronouns are used in sentences, I respond. I have had it with you, Helen. There is no need for me to justify myself. Simply sign the documents. It has come to an end.
Osagie_Aromose · 2.3K Views

Ex-wife Revenge: From Grass to Grace

The clock ticked past midnight, each second echoing like a hammer in the hollow silence of the apartment. Rain lashed against the windows, the storm outside mirroring the tempest brewing in Emily’s chest. She sat rigid on the couch, her fingers digging into the upholstery, eyes fixed on the door. David’s keys jingled in the lock, his laughter—warm and carefree—seeping through the wood before he did. He stumbled in, tie askew, the sharp tang of bourbon on his breath. But it wasn’t the alcohol that made her stomach churn. It was the cloying sweetness of jasmine perfume clinging to his collar—a scent that didn’t belong to her. “Where have you been?” Emily’s voice trembled, though she’d rehearsed the question a hundred times in her head. David froze, his smile dissolving. “Work ran late. You know how it is.” “Work ends at six, David. It’s *midnight*.” She stood, her legs unsteady. “And since when do you wear lipstick to the office?” His hand flew to the smudge of crimson on his white sleeve—a shade too bold, too *alive* for the muted tones of their marriage. His face hardened. “You’re imagining things.” “Am I?” She stepped closer, the jasmine scent now suffocating. “Or is it *Jane* from accounting? The one who ‘just needs your help’ every time I call?” His laugh was a cold blade. “You’re paranoid. Always picking fights—” “Paranoid?” Her voice cracked. “You haven’t touched me in months! You come home smelling like *her*, lying to my face—” “Enough!” He slammed his fist on the table, a vase rattling. “I’m tired of your nagging! What do you even do all day? Sit here and wait to accuse me?” The words struck deeper than any slap. Emily’s breath hitched. “I gave up my career for you. For *us*—” “Us?” He sneered. “There *is* no ‘us.’ Just you, digging through my things like a desperate—” She didn’t see his hand move. The crack of his palm against her cheek split the air, her head snapping sideways. She stumbled, clutching the wall as the taste of copper bloomed on her tongue. David loomed over her, his eyes wild, foreign. “You… you pushed me to this,” he hissed, grabbing his coat. “Clean yourself up. You’re pathetic.” The door slammed. Emily slid to the floor, tears mingling with the blood on her lip. Outside, thunder roared. But beneath the pain, a spark ignited—a flicker of defiance. Her gaze landed on the shattered vase, its jagged pieces glinting in the lamplight. *Pathetic.* The word echoed, twisting into a vow. She would rise. Not for him. Not for “us.” But to make him regret the day he underestimated the woman he’d reduced to ashes. -**Chapter One: The Scent of Betrayal (Continued)** The air hung thick with venom. David’s chest heaved, his earlier bravado fraying at the edges. Emily wiped her bleeding lip with the back of her hand, her eyes blazing. “You think Jane *wants* you?” she spat, her voice a razor. “Or does she just pity the man who needs to steal confidence from a bottle and affairs to feel alive?” David’s jaw twitched. “Shut up.” “Why? Because it’s true?” She laughed, cold and sharp. “You’re a cliché, David. A middle-aged fraud in a tailored suit. Even your *precious* promotion—did you earn it, or did you cry your way into it like you did when your father called you a disappointment?” He lunged forward, but she sidestepped, her words relentless. “Jane must be desperate. Or blind. Tell me, does she know you couldn’t even—” “I said *shut up*!” he roared, his composure crumbling. “Couldn’t even *what*?” she taunted, stepping closer. “Finish a sentence? A marriage? Or is that why you’re so bad in—” The slap exploded like a gunshot. Emily’s head whipped sideways, her body crumpling to the floor. The world blurred—a kaleidoscope of shattered glass and spinning shadows. Her cheek burned, but worse was the silence that followed, broken only by her shaky breaths.
Osagie_Aromose · 5.8K Views

The God-Eater Sequence

In the year 2000, the world was suddenly engulfed by a colossal black bird. The sun was devoured by this entity, which humans dubbed "Deities." Trapped in a realm surrounded by these "Deities," mankind clung to survival in the cracks. As the "Deities" slaughtered humans, the dwindling remnants of humanity pooled their final strength to create Safe Zones capable of repelling the Deities. During this desperate struggle, some individuals unexpectedly awakened sequence abilities. When the first man discovered his hand could transform into a pistol, he initially deemed it useless. But when the pistol miraculously harmed a Deity, humanity realized the truth: even nuclear weapons had failed to injure these beings, yet Ordinal abilities could effortlessly wound them. Those who awakened sequences were elevated as saviors of society. The protagonist, reborn into this world, lived in the poorest reaches of the Safe Zones, surviving on United Nations rations. While sequence awakeners were seen as "chosen ones," he miraculously awakened his own ability: Sequence: God-Eater —the sole Ordinal power capable of gaining strength by devouring Deity carcasses. Ordinary sequences required endless Deity hunting and consuming UN-distributed magic elixirs to level up. Yet he could digest and assimilate Deity remains, which were universally considered inedible. To avoid being captured for experimentation, he concealed his power, growing stronger in the shadows while gradually consuming every last Deity.
D_Fdu_bei · 1.7K Views
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