Are Plodders A Trope In Dystopian Book Series?

The world plunged into a new Ice Age. As the frozen apocalypse spread, 95% of humanity perished. In his first timeline, Cyrus Knovell's kindness cost him everything. The people he had helped betrayed him and left him for dead. Fate, however, granted him a second chance. He awakened one month before the world froze, gaining a dimensional ability that let him store anything without limit. Now he hoarded supplies by the billions and built a fortress no one could breach. While others shivered, starved, and traded their dignity for a morsel, Cyrus lived in comfort. The desperate came begging. The manipulative vixen: "Cyrus, let me into your shelter, and I'll be your girlfriend, okay?" The spoiled rich heir: "Cyrus, I'll give you all my money for just one meal!" The greedy neighbors: "Cyrus, you shouldn't be so selfish. You should share your supplies with us!" Cyrus remembered their betrayals. Lounging in his steel fortress and savoring his private paradise, he sneered, "Your survival has nothing to do with me. I'd rather feed the dogs than feed you."

In a world where the moon shattered and the strong devoured the weak, Neoma Solstice is nothing. A scentless Null. A ghost. A mistake. Until the day she saves a dying Lycan warrior with a touch, and her secret is revealed: she's Void-Born, the rarest mutation in existence. The same power that makes her invisible makes her invaluable—a living weapon that can cure the incurable Feral Rot plaguing the Lycan Ascendancy. Captured and collared, Neoma is forced to serve as "Tether" to Unit Vanguard: four elite soldiers on the brink of madness. Barzil, the ruthless Commander who sees her as a mission. Wolfy, the cold Tactician who sees her as a puzzle. Viggo, the feral Berserker who sees her as salvation. Guller, the fallen Priest who sees her as redemption. They own her contract. They control her life. They swear she's just a tool. But tools don't make their masters kneel. As Neoma's power grows, so does the threat she poses to the regime that enslaved her. When the prophesied Blood Moon rises, she'll have to choose: remain the Ascendancy's battery, or become the Void that devours them whole. Some bonds are forged in blood. Some in magic. Theirs was forged in desperation—and it might be the only thing strong enough to save a dying world. The Obsidian Covenant is a dark dystopian reverse harem romance featuring a morally gray FMC, four obsessive MLs, found family dynamics, enemies-to-lovers, rejected mate redemption, and a slow-burn that explodes into high heat. Perfect for fans of The Cruel Prince meets Den of Vipers in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. No choosing. No apologies. No mercy.

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mother. On top of that, he has seven rich and beautiful older sisters. With such a ridiculously overpowered setup, how can he go around simping for a broke college girl with no money? What a complete waste!

Opening my eyes in an unfamiliar place with unknown faces surrounding me, everything started there. I have to start from the beginning again, because I am no longer Ayla Navarez and the world I am currently in, was completely different from the world of my past life. Rumi Penelope Lee. The cannon fodder of this world inside the novel I read as Ayla, in the past. The character who only have her beautiful face as the only ' plus ' point in the novel, and the one who died instead of the female lead of the said novel. She fell inlove with the male lead and created troubles on the way. Because she started loving the male lead, her pitiful life led to met her end. Death. Because she's stupid. Literally, stupid. A fool in everything. Love, studies, and all. The only thing she knew of, was to eat and sleep, then love the male lead while creating troubles the next day. Even if she's rich and beautiful, her halo as a cannon fodder won't be able to win against the halo of the heroine. That's why I've decided. Let's ruin the plot. Because who cares about following it, when I, Ayla Navarez, who became Rumi Penelope Lee overnight, would die in the end without even reaching the end of the story? Inside this cliché novel, let's continue living without falling inlove, shall we?

My little sister Willa? Always played the noble princess—even during the freaking apocalypse. She was pregnant and still trying to look like some graceful queen. I told her to end it. Safer that way. She slapped me. "Shut up. How can you be so heartless?" Meanwhile, I skipped meals so she and her rescue-pet gang could eat. When I collapsed from hunger, she snorted. "Drama queen. Think of it as a free weight-loss plan." I dragged her to the base, the safe zone, and nearly died doing it. She snatched the last of my rations. "The baby and I are good. Give the rest away." I died from my injuries—frozen, starving, forgotten. Willa? She got crowned a saint. Even landed the baby daddy—the Deputy Governor—and kicked off her perfect little fairytale. Then I woke up. Back to the moment she asked me to swear I'd protect her and the baby. This time, I laughed in her face. "Die for all I care."

Vera fought for her life in the apocalypse for ten years. Ten brutal years left her disfigured, hungry, and almost broken, but she still clawed her way through it. She killed zombies, ran from mutated animals, starved, bled, and learned humans were often more dangerous than monsters. Then her brother, the only family she had left, betrayed her. Vera thought death had finally come. Instead, she woke up inside a trashy book she once read to stay sane while the old world fell apart. A book with a twisted plot and too much drama. And because her luck had always been terrible, Vera did not wake up as the heroine. No, of course not. Her second chance was to become the hated second female lead, pregnant, unwanted, and written to die when the plot no longer needed her. Her babies were supposed to die too. Even the three men who got her pregnant were written as future corpses, all to push the story toward spoiled women and one psychotic male lead. But Vera was not the woman from the book. She had survived one ruined world. She had not walked through radioactive rain and eaten mutated food just to cry over fantasy characters or beg for love inside a stupid plot. So Vera adapted. She accepted her punishment, took her three unborn babies, and left for the garbage center without making a scene. Everyone thought she had been thrown away. Vera saw a chance to make money, protect her babies, and build something of her own. Now the woman meant to disappear is building a wasteland empire, breaking the plot, and driving three men insane because she no longer chases anyone. By every rule in that world, Vera should be dead. But dying a second time was never an option.