Hp Fanfiction Archive

Aku hanya lelaki biasa. Seorang manager di perusahaan ekspedisi. Aku sudah menikah dan punya dua orang anak laki-laki yang tampan. Diumur pernikahanku yang ke delapan aku merasakan kepenatan dan kebosanan dengan rumah tanggaku. Istriku, Rina banyak berubah tidak seperti dulu lagi. Kerjaannya hanya bermain hp sampai lupa mandi juga pekerjaan rumah lainnya. Dan Yuni, rekan kerjaku di kantor, seorang janda beranak satu yang masih muda dan cantik semakin gencar mendekatiku. Istri yang susah dinasehati dibandingkan dengan teman kerja cantik yang perhatian siapa yang tidak tergoda? Aku hanya lelaki biasa bukan?

Kejujuran adalah pondasi dalam membangun sebuah rumah tangga. kalau rumah tangga sudah mulai ada ketidak jujuran, bagaimana rumah tangga itu akan berdiri tegak! hari itu, Zahra tengah bersantai sembari menunggu suaminya mandi. tiba-tiba rasa keingin tahunnya tinggi, tentang isi ponsel sang suami. entah dorongan dari mana, Zahra mulai menyentuh Hp sang suami, lalu jari jarinya bergulir membuka isi ponsel itu. tiba-tiba, matanya terbelalak menyaksikan sebuah Foto suaminya bersama wanita lain, tanpa busana, di sebuah hotel. hal itu membuat hatinya terbakar. Zahra mulai menanyakannya kepada Dimas. dan ternyata benar, perempuan itu, adalah Istri kedua suaminya. bagai di sambar petir, Zahra mengetahui hal itu. lalu... bagaimana kelanjutan kisahnya? yuk simak lengkapnya dalam kisah di bawah ini!!!

Man dies. His last act in the previous life generates him an absurd amount of karma. He meets a god, and it reborns him in a crossworld of Larry Potter and DxD. He gets a gift, one that can only be fully explored with the knowledge that he learned in his previous profession in the previous world. The keeping of knowledge is also a gift. And with that, his karma is spent. Thrown in the world with a 'good luck' and a slap in the back, he fights to survive until the start of canons. The time until that, 1000 years. Yeah… Now read about some of his adventures in this crossed over world, beginning already in HP canon. English is not my main language, so you will find some strange stuff, like the mix of North American and the Queen’s English. Disclaimer: All characters that you recognize from the franchise of Larry Potter and DxD are propriety of its respective creators and I only wish that they were mine. But they are not. I only own the MC, the OCs, and the ideas that generated the non canon plot.

Judul: "Di Ambang Gila" Sinopsis: Ketika dua jiwa yang sama-sama rusak bertabrakan, dunia mereka meledak dalam badai emosi, obsesi, dan ketergantungan yang tak terhindarkan. Ares, seorang seniman jalanan yang hidup dari malam ke malam, bertemu dengan Elara-seorang ahli neurosains muda yang menyimpan trauma masa kecil yang tak pernah sembuh. Pertemuan mereka bukan kebetulan: Elara sedang meneliti efek hubungan ekstrem terhadap otak manusia, dan Ares adalah subjek sempurna-liar, tak terikat, dan penuh luka. Hubungan mereka berkembang menjadi simbiosis yang tak sehat: penuh gairah, pertengkaran brutal, dan momen-momen ketergantungan yang membuat mereka tak bisa hidup tanpa satu sama lain. Mereka saling menghancurkan dan membangun kembali, berulang kali, dalam siklus yang semakin intens. Di balik semua itu, ada rahasia besar yang mengikat mereka: eksperimen psikologis yang dijalankan Elara diam-diam, dan masa lalu Ares yang ternyata berhubungan langsung dengan trauma Elara sendiri. Fanfiction ini akan membawa pembaca menyelami: - 💥 Ketegangan emosional yang terus meningkat - 🧠 Eksplorasi psikologis tentang cinta obsesif dan trauma - 🔄 Hubungan yang berputar antara cinta, kebencian, dan ketergantungan - 🎭 Karakter-karakter kompleks yang terus berkembang dan berubah

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

Jangan lupa subscribe ya, biar enggak ketinggalan update bab selanjutnya Ada kalimat yang sampai hari ini masih kuingat. Kupikir rasanya sudah tertanam di benakku. Suatu hari aku mendengar ibu tengah bergosip di warung sayur, hingga kemudian aku datang untuk membeli beberapa bumbu masak yang kurang, wanita itu berkata dengan lantangnya sambil bekacak pinggang. “Duh saya punya menantu kayak sampah!” ucap ibu kala itu. sontak saja semua orang di sana tercengang, tetapi bukannya meminta berhenti. Mereka malah semakin memancing ibu untuk bercerita banyak hal. “Loh kok bisa, Bu? Eh, orang cantik gitu, dibilang sampah, bagaimana sih Bu!” “Alah cantik doang buat apa kalau nyapu enggak bersih, mana ngepel aja maju! Keinjek lagi dong lantainya! Haduh saya tuh tiap hari saya sampai pakai koyo, punya mantu bukannya tambah enak. Malah capek, rumah saya yang bersihin, masak aja sama saya. Dia mana bisa masak? Sekalinya masak malah nyuruh suaminya. Ih najis banget! Bisa-bisanya si Dadan nyari istri yang enggak bisa ngapa-ngapain. Padahal, saya berharapnya Dadan nikah sama Nining, dia juga cantik, pintar masak. Bisa nandur di sawah, angon bebek juga tuh lihat anakannya sudah besar-besar. Lah ini, malah dapet orang kota, saban hari kerjanya maen hp!”

I was the girl no one noticed. Until I opened File Case No. 0001. Azrael Atlas St. Claire. They call him “The Architect.” A ghost. A cold-blooded killer. A man so dangerous the FBI can’t touch. His death would shatter the economy. Rival syndicates would burn the city to kill him. He has no weakness. Then he found me. He appeared in my archive and vanished without a trace. The next morning, gifts started appearing on my nightstand. First, a bullet coated in dried blood. Second, ten fingers belonging to the man who touched me. He watched. Followed. Stalked my every move. Then one night, he came through my window. He took what he wanted while I floated in haze. I woke up sore, terrified…and craving for more—needing for more. The FBI saw a fracture in me, and decided to weaponize it. They wired me. Made me their spy with a promised I’d be safe if I helped them cage the monster. Yet, at the first sign of blood, they ran. Leaved me in chaos. He stayed. Now, I lived in his world. My mother thinks the lawyer at her table is a kind stranger. She didn’t feel his hand between my thighs underneath. She doesn’t know he’s been sculpting my life for years, long before we ever met. The FBI wants me to betray him. His enemies want me dead for revenge. But the monster who stole my life? He’s the only one who ever truly saw me. And I’m starting to wonder if that makes me just as dangerous as him. They say there’s a line between the victim and the villain. I don’t think I’m on the right side anymore.

The doors of elite research institutions aren't open to the unknown. But Rick Allen pulled Beth out of nowhere. He poured everything into nurturing her talent and promised her the world. The Allen family's compromise was simple: the Chief Young Scientist had to be Summer Belden—someone from their own social circle. From that day on, the words Rick said to Beth most often were, "Just wait a little longer." He told her to wait when her groundbreaking paper was published under Summer's name in exchange for research funding. He told her to wait again when the research she'd perfected over three years was packaged as Summer's signature work, paving the way to major awards. "The bigger picture comes first," he said. "The next Nobel Prize—I'll make sure it's yours." But when the paper credited to Summer—though written by Beth—was exposed for fabricated data, everyone reached the same conclusion: Beth, as a core member of the project, had tampered with the data to steal the credit. Locked in a glass-walled archive room, Beth looked at Rick standing outside the door. His gaze was ice-cold, full of disappointment. "Why did you touch the data?" he said. "You've ruined everything I've built." She remembered how he once told her, "In this world, yours is the only talent I truly recognize." He had promised, "I'll make sure achievements with your name hang among the stars." Now he stood with the others, judging her. He looked at her the way people look at a ruthless, ambitious fraud. When she was finally released, Beth dug her nails into her palm until blood ran down. This time, she wouldn't wait any longer.