Smoke Stories Novels & Stories

' (There's a proverb of the Ardians - The fire is god and god is forge, it makes the things what we need). In the afternoon break, five backbenchers who are in the 12c block building, opposite to the main building of the university, go to the backyard to smoke cigarettes as usual. They were talking to each other and laughing at dirty jokes. One of them see someone is hanging in the backyard, they were shocked-one of them said, 'Fuck man, the man is hanging around us,' another guy said, "we should continue our conversation guys?' The one who's scared, 'we should inform others,' "Why do we go to inform others? What if they take action against us for smoking on campus, do you have any answer?"

When he opened the pouch, Caspian saw a few white balls the size of a pigeon egg. Caspian asked curiously, "What are these? They don't look like precious medicine." "These are smoke balls," Maisie explained, "they're not lethal, but when you encounter any danger, you can just toss one to the ground, and dense smoke will be produced. That way, you can buy yourself some time as your enemies can't see clearly. However, I hope you don't need to use it in the Dark Cloud Forest." "Non-lethal smoke balls…" Caspian pondered for a moment, then he looked at Maisie and said, "Maisie, can you prepare more smoke balls for me when I return? However, I want to add one ingredient to it."

I coughed, waving my hand in front of my face, but the smoke only grew thicker. “What the hell is this?” Kane shouted, his voice muffled by the haze. The nuns stood still, their smiles turning sinister as they watched us struggle. “Dane! Kane!” I called out, stumbling blindly through the smoke. My throat burned, and my lungs felt like they were on fire. “Zane!” Dane’s voice was faint, coming from somewhere to my left. “I told you this was a bad idea!” I shouted, coughing violently. “Now look where it’s got us!”

Instantly, a plume of white smoke rose from within, curling and twisting through the air. “Look at this.” The smoke shimmered and began to shift, forming ghostly images. “Right after the Dark Lord was born on earth, a series of disasters struck.” The smoke displayed towns and villages—rich, prosperous ones—being ravaged. “Famine in the wealthiest towns.” Ron continued. “Drought in regions known for rivers and lakes. Earthquakes in places that had never even known tremors. And look here—” he pointed as part of the smoke turned black “—this town was infected by a disease so vile, even all the witches’ covens combined couldn’t find a cure.”

My heart skips a beat when I spot a group of firefighters gathered outside, not lounging or working out, but having a casual barbecue. The warm scent of grilled meat wafts through the air, mingling with the smoky tang of the fire pit. Some are shirtless, their muscular torsos glistening faintly in the golden glow of the setting sun. Most are still wearing their fire-resistant pants, suspenders hanging loose around their hips. A few sit on folding chairs, a drink in hand, while others stand by the grill, flipping burgers and turning hot dogs with ease. “Caroline, you’re staring,” Sam teases, nudging me hard in the ribs.

"You're right. I was nothing but a smokescreen—a scapegoat, if you will." My voice sent shivers down his stiffened spine. "However, it was never to shield you. Rather, I was the perfect smokescreen to shield the Carozza Famiglia from all legal risks in their takeover of the Zappa Famiglia." Anna stopped struggling on the ground as her voice shook in disbelief. "That's… That's impossible…" I stood up and looked at them again. "The game was already over from the moment you both decided to take advantage of me."

She complained, but I could see the small smile tugging on her lips as she leaned closer to me, and I captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. “Then I'll make sure you can't walk on your feet tomorrow,” I muttered against her lips as I flipped her onto the bed and she giggled softly when I placed soft kisses all over her chest. “I heard you every time.” She suddenly whispered and I raised a brow in confusion. “Whenever you jerked off, moaning my name, I heard you. And I… it was so fucking sexy that I touched myself too, while thinking of you. I never told you because I didn't want you to think I was a hoe or a whore.” She explained and I shot her a knowing smile as I traced her bottom lip wi

he said, his voice a low vibration that hit me square in the chest. The chatter died instantly. He turned around, leaning against the podium, his sleeves already rolled up to reveal the lion etched into his tanned skin. My pulse spiked. I couldn't stop my eyes from tracing the golden outlines of the beast on his arm, remembering the way it seemed to ripple in the moonlight of my subconscious. "The Art of Storytelling is not a solo venture," he began, his almond eyes finally sweeping over the rows. "To understand narrative, you must understand collaboration and the friction of differing perspectives. For the remainder of the semester, you will be working in groups of five."

"No, thank you. I don't smoke." A faint smile was carved on Reid's lips before he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The night air seemed to soften along with the flowing light chat between us—starting from Reid's awkward stories when he first worked at the repair shop to the comical antics of customers that tested his patience. The distance and awkwardness that had stretched out now collapsed, replaced by a comfort that made every second feel so short.

Sloane wakes up to her phone blowing up. The blurry tunnel photo has gone semi-viral on soccer gossip accounts. Sloane jolted awake in her bed as her phone vibrated nonstop on the nightstand. The screen lit up with dozens of notifications. She grabbed it with a sinking feeling in her gut and clicked on the first link. The blurry tunnel photo stared back at her from multiple soccer gossip accounts. Two figures locked in passion, one clearly on her knees. Comments flooded in fast. Some mocked the rivalry, others speculated wildly about secret affairs between coaches. Her stomach twisted with fear. This single image could destroy years of hard work. Sloane sat up quickly, heart racing, and thre