True Martial World Raws

“Ayoo bangun, Sayangku,” Angga mencoba lagi, kali ini mencubit hidungku gemas. Aku membuka mata sedikit, memohon. “Mas, aku masih capek dan lemas banget. Kamu duluan aja.” Angga tertawa pelan, tawa yang membuatku ingin meninjunya sekaligus menciumnya. “Loh, kan seharusnya yang kecapekan itu aku, sayang?” godanya, matanya penuh ejekan jenaka. Mataku langsung terbuka lebar. Aku mendorong pelan wajahnya. “Enak saja kamu, ya, kalau ngomong!” Angga tertawa puas. Ia mencium bibirku singkat, sebuah sentuhan pagi yang membuat jantungku berdesir. “Yasudah, kamu tidur lagi sebentar. Aku mandi duluan, Muachhh…” Setelah mandi, kami berdua berdiri berdampingan. Keintiman semalam mengubah segalanya. Gerakan sholat Subuh kami terasa lebih sakral, diimami oleh pria yang telah memeluk jiwaku dan ragaku. Selesai berdoa, aku langsung ingin merebahkan diri lagi. Rasa lelah itu sungguh nyata. Namun, Angga menahan lenganku. “Kamu mau ke mana, Sayang?” tanyanya lembut, tangannya masih memegang tasbih. “Aku mau tidur lagi, Mas. Masih capek dan ngantuk banget,” jawabku dengan mata sayu, tanpa malu mengakui kelemahanku. Angga tersenyum teduh. “Sini, kamu tidur di sini saja. Temani aku berdzikir.” Ia menepuk pahanya yang kini tertutup sarung, mengisyaratkan tempat peristirahatan. Aku menurut. Aku merebahkan diri di pangkuannya, wangi sabun dan parfumnya menyelimutiku. Aku menutup mata, dan suaraku Angga yang merdu melantunkan dzikir menjadi ninabobo paling menenangkan. Angga menatapku yang terlelap, mukena masih menutupi kepalaku, dan damai di wajahku. Hatinya melunak, dipenuhi gelombang emosi yang tak pernah ia rasakan bersama Angel. Angel selalu sulit diajak sholat, selalu menuntut, selalu membuat drama. Putri berbeda. Dia penurut, sederhana, dan kecantikannya bukan hanya di luar, tetapi di dalam hatinya. Angga menarik napas dalam. Ya Allah, terima kasih Engkau telah menjadikan dia sebagai Istriku. Aku sungguh benar-benar mencintainya, batin Angga, sebuah pengakuan yang melegakan sekaligus menakutkan. Semoga dia adalah istri yang bisa membantuku untuk ke surga/Mu nanti, Ya Allah. Aamiin. Angga menunduk, mencium keningku

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, the groom's name was swapped out. The woman my boyfriend was now promised to—the pampered mafia princess nestled in his arms—looked at me with a triumphant smile. "Isn't it perfect?" she sneered. "A fraud of a bride for a fake heir. What a match." I ignored her and turned to the man I loved. This was the man who endured three days of brutal punishment just for the right to marry me, when the Rossi family first acknowledged him as their true heir. Now, he just nodded along with her. "Don't be so dramatic. It's a joke. You're not actually mad, are you? It's just a piece of paper. Once Sienna's had her fun, you two get a divorce, and then it'll be our turn. I promise." I smiled. Then I turned and walked straight to the so-called "fake" heir. "The marriage license is filed, honey," I said. "Let's go plan our real wedding."

My grandfather is a nationally renowned inheritor of an intangible cultural heritage. Today, I'm supposed to attend a grand ceremony as his rightful successor. However, when I arrive, I see my father's adoptive daughter already standing on the stage. She's dressed to the nines. She holds an award and is giving a thank-you speech, looking moved. In the past, I would've left without saying anything or speaking up for myself. Too bad for her that I'd been reborn. The discrepancy between our statuses is so large that we're basically from different worlds. Yet she has the nerve to claim to be my grandfather's successor and put on a show with what is supposed to be my family's.

I'm undressed and bound to a testing table when my family comes to pick me up. A thick, sharp needle pierces into my neck. A drug is administered into my blood, and the pain almost makes me lose consciousness. Behind me, I can feel a man's cold hands stroking my skin amorously. Before me, several people are staring at me. They point at me and treat me like an educational instrument. I tremble in fear and curl up on the testing table in pain. Three years ago, my brother sent me to Mykorra's war zone to stand up for Yvette Sanders. Those were the three most insulting and torturous years of my life. They burned away my hope for kinship but not my desire for survival. As the hands roam lower on my body, I bite my lip so hard that I almost draw blood. As the hands start to go overboard, someone knocks on the door. "Wendy Sanders, your brother is here for you."

After I am diagnosed with stomach cancer, I ask for some money to buy medicine. I don't want to be in excruciating pain when I die. My three elder brothers rush into the ICU. Andy Lewis—my eldest brother—slaps me hard across my face. He scolds me for ruining his beloved younger sister, Summer Lewis' coming-of-age party. My second brother, Sherman Lewis, calls me a liar. He accuses me of pretending to be sick to swindle money from them. Jimmy Lewis, who is my third brother, calls me useless. He tells me that I deserve to die. My parents, Kenneth Lewis and Autumn Farrow, don't believe that I'm sick. They pin me with looks of contempt and ridicule. "You still haven't stopped that lying habit of yours even though you're all grown up. You even learned how to blackmail us with your death. "If you want to die, do it sooner. It'll spare us from being disgusted when we're forced to look at you day in and day out." I end up dying on the first day of the New Year. Before I breathe my last breath, I send a message to the family group chat. My entire family goes crazy after reading it.

copyright (Warning this is a dark God and Goddess novel. This is all war and manipulation. It won't be pretty at times and it may make your cringe but every scene has a purpose. You just have to keep reading to find out more) Mazaya(masaya) is the goddess of wisdom and creation she's anything but normal. she's emotionally unstable because She holds too much power. She's the only God that was born with a dark god and light God parent. It was never heard of before her. So that explains why she is the most powerful God in existence. Right? Not really because nothing is as it seems. Gods are manipulating each other left and right to prevent complete control. Things you think you know turn out to be a spell caused to protect the world. The only truth is the what they are living now. The past could be lies and there's only one way to find out the truth, to go along Mazaya's journey. One thing is true though She only has one weakness and when the most powerful Gods find it out they work to exploit it so they can control everything. The person who possesses her rules all. Will Mazaya be a pawn in this war against Gods or will she be able to free herself from some of the most ruthless Gods in existence. It' starts off slow but once you get into it it heats up and gets intense. nothing is as it seems in a world full of the most powerful gods. There will be sex scenes and at times it will seem out of there but this is a world of Dark Gods not weak mortals. And what is the way to ones soul? sex and manipulation.

As the long-lost daughter of a wealthy family, I returned to my biological parents, only to watch their company collapse. Overwhelmed by massive debts, my dad jumped to his death. My brother was left crippled by vengeful creditors. My mother, unraveled, would one moment tear at my hair, cursing my existence, and the next, cling to me, sobbing and vowing to cherish me. To save them, I shredded my college acceptance letter and took every job I could find. When my brother's condition worsened, I auctioned off my virginity to fund his surgery. But when I arrived at the hospital with the money, I overheard their conversation. "Kathy works day and night to earn money. I don't think she is after our fortune," said my mom. "She dropped out of college and ruined her future for us. Maybe we should stop this." My brother, supposedly half-paralyzed, stood by the window in a crisp suit. He shrugged. "She chose to skip college and work like that. What's it got to do with us?" My "dead" father broke his silence. "We need to be careful. People like her are like leeches. Once they latch on, you can't shake them off. Let's keep watching." I listened quietly, tossing the pendant they had given me into the trash. I had repaid the debt of my birth, and now, we were done.

Ever since we brought our six-year-old daughter, Elise, home, she's been keeping her distance. My husband, Patrick Sheeter, chalked it up to "adjustment issues." Told me to bring her more gifts when I got back from my overseas trip. I was halfway out the door when I heard her voice in my head. 'Should I tell Mom that Della always hits me? 'Dad says Mom hates tattletales. Especially me. 'But if I keep quiet, I might not make it till Mom gets back.' My stomach flipped. I turned around. Elise was curled up in the corner, eyes glassy with tears. Silent. But I still heard her. 'Maybe I lived again just to see Mom one more time.' Patrick, noticing I was frozen, casually reminded me I was gonna miss my flight. Right. Like that mattered. I turned and slapped him so hard. Screw the business trip. I was staying. Let's see who's got the guts to mess with my kid now.

I was from a rich family. But after I finally returned home, my parents made me sleep in the store room and eat leftover food. Yet, they still felt like they had wronged their foster daughter. When the government introduced the Children’s Fairness System, my parents immediately bound the entire family to it. My father breathed a sigh of relief and said, “With this perfectly fair system in place, Annie won’t be treated unfairly anymore.” My mother gently held my hand and said in an unyielding tone. “Ever since you came back, you’ve taken everything that was meant for Annie. This is unfair to her.” My elder brother never showed a hint of kindness toward me either. “I only acknowledge Annie as my sister. You’ve gotten way more than you deserved already, so don’t push your luck,” he said. I looked down at the cheap clothes I had worn for five years. Then, I glanced at Annie’s lavish bedroom and countless luxury items. I found it all utterly ridiculous. However, when the system took effect, they all ended up breaking down.

The fake daughter married my boyfriend. My mouth was taped and I was being chopped into pieces by her admirer. The entire family took turns to call me. My mother said, "How ungrateful you are. I should not have brought you home back then." Father added, "Don't bother coming back if you do not attend Samantha's wedding." Brother said, "Let me tell you, you shall root in hell if you choose not to attend the wedding." At that moment, I didn't even have the energy to shout for help due to excessive blood loss. Everyone lost their patience, "Speak up! Are you dead or what?" I could only see the calls being disconnected. One thing they did not know, I was really dead.