Minmin_yuna_

Hello. It's been a really long time since I last published. 
          	
          	I have just started published a new story. This time an English story. 
          	
          	All fantasy story lovers. This is for you. 
          	
          	Eclipse Born. 
          	
          	Sia was never meant to belong anywhere.
          	
          	Not among the living...
          	and certainly not within the forest of Thyrren.
          	
          	But when an ancient power begins to stir, she becomes its chosen heir-marked by something older than memory, something that has been waiting far too long.
          	
          	Chased not only by monsters... but by the ruin sleeping beneath her skin, Sia is pulled into a brutal trial where the forest does not protect.
          	
          	It devours.
          	
          	And as roots tighten, shadows whisper, and blood ties turn to curses, she must decide what she will become...
          	
          	Before Thyrren claims her entirely.
          	
          	Because some awakenings are not gifts.
          	
          	They are endings.
          	
          	
          	________
          	
          	Check out my story 
          	
          	Mimmin

Minmin_yuna_

Hello. It's been a really long time since I last published. 
          
          I have just started published a new story. This time an English story. 
          
          All fantasy story lovers. This is for you. 
          
          Eclipse Born. 
          
          Sia was never meant to belong anywhere.
          
          Not among the living...
          and certainly not within the forest of Thyrren.
          
          But when an ancient power begins to stir, she becomes its chosen heir-marked by something older than memory, something that has been waiting far too long.
          
          Chased not only by monsters... but by the ruin sleeping beneath her skin, Sia is pulled into a brutal trial where the forest does not protect.
          
          It devours.
          
          And as roots tighten, shadows whisper, and blood ties turn to curses, she must decide what she will become...
          
          Before Thyrren claims her entirely.
          
          Because some awakenings are not gifts.
          
          They are endings.
          
          
          ________
          
          Check out my story 
          
          Mimmin

rayviy

Hi, 
          Are you going to be updating the story " hihmagey kalhivefa
          Really enjoyed reading it 
          Curiosity is killing me 
          Need to know what happens next.
          So many questionsss

Minmin_yuna_

@rayviy well I will start uploading it again once I'm done with Loabi Eyge Aslugai
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MrymYalu

Why you aren't uploading  

Minmin_yuna_

@MrymYalu going through writers block at the moment. Will start uploading soon☺️♥️
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Minmin_yuna_

@MrymYalu I did eyye rey haha
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adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (5th november 2022) 
          
          mouth of honesty, bloody honey; ravenous sobriquets, transparent metaphors. panting edicts, divine passages; unambiguous gravity, chaotic muscles. summer hunger, fermenting sun; mullein breaths, fervent dust. metamorphic roads, joyous courage; naked rage and newborn remembrance. 
          
          exuberant mountains, icy bees; conformed pollen, eclipsed wins. clavicle roots, burning prayers; mediocre comfort, hopeful sorrows. web of confidants, shadows of the known; gentle croaks, hesitant murders. mind a wild animal, a forest caged; auroras and sacrifices, reminiscent repercussions. 
          
          bodies of petunias, breathing skins; blood of stories, water of prison. white cotton whispers, kind demons; alchemy of weaknesses, battling questions. sacred dignity, waves of hormones; rituals of october, bargaining autumn. drop by drop, zest of oranges. 
          
          esprit of mother's milk, primal daughters; lust of earth, a shadow pure. work into exhaustion, round the clock and round the ; there is half of hope alive, half of flesh left to strain. cold is the night, still and mellow; cold is the sun that has wrung itself yellow. perhaps the moon curses its cries, hides in lone pain and white sky, for then it is rarely rejected; unlike storms. 
           #adropofhumanity 

Minmin_yuna_

Yorghurt1234

@Quinn_rosa_ I was wondering the same thing aslu
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Aishathhh19

@Quinn_rosa_ "loabi eyge aslugai" story ge next part up waanii when?
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Minmin_yuna_