Ash Can Understand Pokemon Fanfiction Novels & Stories

From the time I was little, something in me was always a little off—I never listened to the whole story, only half of it. My grandmother called me a good-for-nothing who was financially burdening the family. She bought a little boy to be my younger brother and told me to take good care of him. I understood the part about buying a child, so I immediately called the police and reported her for illegal human trafficking. My father pointed at my face and cursed me for being unfilial, accusing me of cutting off his family line. I obeyed him, crept into his room while he slept that night, and used a knife to "cut off his lineage." My father screamed in agony. In the chaos, he accidentally killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the female lead of a melodramatic abuse novel. After ten years of marriage to the cruel male lead, his childhood sweetheart had just returned from abroad and was undergoing kidney surgery. He dragged me to the hospital and cruelly ordered me to donate a kidney to his precious first love. I nodded obediently, went out and bought a pig, and on the spot dug out the pig's kidney and handed it to him.

Alina was born a princess but lived as a shadow—powerless, overlooked, and too afraid to challenge the brutal world she was born into. In a kingdom where Weres reigned and Lycans were enslaved, she convinced herself that silence was survival. But when the Lycans rose in rebellion, her family was slaughtered, and she died with regret clawing at her heart. Then, she wakes up—twelve years old, on the day she was first assigned a Lycan slave. Armed with the memories of a future drenched in blood, Alina refuses to be the same passive princess. She will change fate, starting with Casimir—the fierce Lycan warrior destined to lead the rebellion… and the very man who killed her. But altering the course of history is not so simple. As she fights to reshape destiny, she finds herself drawn to Casimir in ways she never expected. Can she truly change the future, or will her choices lead to a fate even darker than before?

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

Warning!!! extremely erotica flee if you don’t read something streamy, rated 18+ “You’re mine and mine alone do you understand?” he growled in her neck, his fingers buried deep in her wet p*ssy. Her breath caught in her throat as he made her feel like her skin had come to life, she was burning with need, crying for him, craving for him to fill her up. “Answer me!” he ordered then she nodded squinting her eyes shut as he thrust his fingers in and out of her, she cried in pleasure her lips quivered as she whimpered, “I’m yours Asher” Selene had lost her parents after an attack that turned her from a rich girl to a poor orphan. Read this steamy hot novel to find out how her life changed drastically when she encountered Alpha Asher and his jealous twin brother Axel.

Euphemia Winters had the life she's always wanted, a gorgeous boyfriend, best friends, college this fall, and a great new apartment. But, something isn't right in her field of dreams, will she work through it, or will she find something better?

Gabe Hunter, CEO of one of the biggest Advertisement agents in the US, a family run business. He is , rich and arrogant. The kind of man most women swoon over, but Aubrey Winters isn't most women. She disliked him the moment they met, and she doesn't care that he is the CEO of where she works. He isn't her biggest fan either because she isn't like other women. She is fiesty, confident and independent. Gabe is used to people doing as they tell him, something it isn't so easy when it comes to Aubrey. But what does it matter, right? They don't see each other often, and that is how she likes it, so when Gabe decided to take the lead on a new project, a project that Aubrey has been chosen to work on, she soon finds herself spending more time with him than she would like. Aubrey soon finds herself clashing with the CEO. Will their time together make them dislike each other more, or will the time they have to spend together change things? Is their hatred for each other honest or masking something else, something stronger...

Jason and Amy have been lifelong couples. They vowed not to be separated by anything, not even death. However, on a fateful day, the dreaded thing happened. Amy died. As she was dying, she promised that she would be back for Jason. A hundred years later, Jason meets someone who looked exactly like his past Amy. What would he do? Will that old love be reclaimable?

On my son’s birthday, my husband had asked his first love to pick our son up from our home. While I stubbornly refused to let him go, a huge fire broke out in the hallway during our standoff. I was struck by falling debris, and blood started streaming from my head. However, my son was unharmed as he lay beneath me. My husband, who was a firefighter, came forward to rescue us. But he handed the only gas mask he had to his first love. “Miss Leia has a weaker constitution. Dad, please get her out first. Mom, wait for the other firefighters to save you!” I watched them leave with a faint, bitter smile. It appeared that they had both forgotten my severe asthma and the fact that I would die without a gas mask.

My mother fell critically ill and was rushed to the hospital. Desperate, I knelt before my fiancé—the department's chief surgeon—and begged him to take charge of her operation. But outside the ICU, he was carefully tending to a scraped knee. Lucy Wendell's scraped knee, to be exact. Just as I was drowning in hopelessness, Cameron Mitchell—the hospital director and my childhood friend—pushed open the operating room doors and handed me a marriage proposal. "Marry me, and I'll personally perform your mother's surgery." With trembling hands, I signed my name, clinging to the last shred of hope that she could be saved. But she never made it through that stormy night. Cameron handled all the funeral arrangements himself, and our wedding proceeded as scheduled. Seven years later, in the hushed silence of the hospital archives, I overheard Cameron speaking with the deputy director. "Cameron, why did you transfer your mother-in-law's organ to Lucy's mother during that surgery? Weren't you afraid of getting caught?" "I owed Lucy," he replied. "If I hadn't hesitated back then, Lucy never would've chosen medical aid work in Africa… and her mother wouldn't have fallen ill from the grief."

On the fourth day after our son died, I decided to end my military marriage. Before that, I spent three days taking care of what remained of him. On the first day, I tricked my wife into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to my son's school and collected the textbooks he never had the chance to use. On the third day, I prepared a table full of his favorite dishes and begged my wife to come home so we could celebrate his birthday one last time. She agreed. Then she turned around, claimed she had a mission, and spent the entire night setting off fireworks with her childhood sweetheart. That night, I sat beside my son's memorial photo and ate alone. The next day, she came home looking guilty and handed me a brand new backpack. She said it was a gift for our son to use at school. She did not know that our child would never live to see his first day of school.