Why Does The Protagonist In Transfusions BL Change?

Luca Graven, an orphan cursed by poverty, worked under the man loathed the most— Dante Solis. He was a wealthy, powerful mafia leader who had the strongest men, including Luca himself cowering in fear. Unfortunately, Dante took a liking to him. He brought him into his home, enslaved him, treated him like rubbish….but, he never hurt him beyond his limits. Maybe that was why Luca never fully hated him, and maybe, just maybe, that was why he wanted him. Until, a new version of him shows up. He looked exactly like Dante, same voice even, but completely different personalities. This version listened, cared for him, no longer saw him as a mere slave, he nurtured him and treated him like he meant something for once. Of course to Luca, Dante had miraculously grown a heart but that person that showed him kindness and mercy wasn’t Dante. It was Allen Pierce—his doppelganger. Now torn between two different people, yet drawn to each of them and their different souls, he has to make a decision. But they don’t make it easy. Luca wasn’t the only one fighting to choose, they were both fighting to be chosen.

[YOU HAVE TRANSMIGRATED INTO A VILLAINESS FATED TO DIE.] I was supposed to obsess over the Alpha King, scheme against the heroine, and meet my end at the execution block. Instead, I rewrote the story. I chose Pierre Ashbourne—the neglected second male lead I once pitied as a reader—and spent three years helping him rebuild his dying pack, believing I had finally changed my fate. Then he abandoned me at our mating ceremony for his first love, the heroine. Now, the system has given me only one way home, restore the original ending by pushing the heroine back into the arms of the ruthless Alpha King, Hades. But the more I try to complete the story, the more these leads are getting out of character! What should I do?

I broke up with Nicole Hayes, my girlfriend of ten years. It was not her or I who initiated it, but her male nurse at the hospital. Nicole suffered from severe congenital anemia. For ten years, I donated blood to her for nothing in return. During our eleventh year together, just when we were about to get married, I overheard the male nurse in charge of her transfusions say, “Wow, Miss Hayes! Don’t tell me you decided to marry this guy just because he’s been donating blood to you. “You probably don’t know this, but the hospital has a donor compensation policy. Each donation comes with a thousand-dollar stipend. “Over the last ten years, this guy must have made at least $200,000 off you, yet he still has the nerve to guilt-trip you into marrying him? How shameless!” Under Nicole’s shifting expression, he added with a smile, “Maybe I should be the one donating blood to you instead. I also have a rare blood type, but I don’t want money, and I’m not asking to marry you. I’m just kind-hearted and can’t stand people who emotionally manipulate patients.” Seeing the obvious change in her expression, I let out a soft laugh and said, “In that case, let’s do that.” Over the past ten years, I had donated blood to Nicole twice every month. To recover, I forced myself to eat pork liver until I felt like vomiting, and at one point, I became so thin that I was nothing but skin and bones. I thought Nicole understood everything I had done for her. I never expected that a few words from a stranger would make her truly believe I had been profiting from my suffering. Even more unexpectedly, she also came to think that marrying me was nothing more than emotional coercion. If that was how she saw it, fine! I would give her what she wanted. Still, she had better pray that nurse would keep his promise of donating blood to her.

My sister was the golden child, the pride of our family, but she had a rare blood disorder that required treatments costing thousands every month. To keep her alive, I became her personal blood donor, working nonstop to pay for her care and delivering food all day and night. But one day, she nearly died from hemorrhaging after trying to abort a pregnancy. That’s when I learned the child she was carrying belonged to my boyfriend. When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dragged me to the operating table himself. “You were born to be her blood bank. Dying for her? It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.” I was left there, bleeding out, my life slipping away with every drop. But as death closed in, something changed. The people who once hoped I’d disappear—the ones who used me, betrayed me—they all began to unravel, losing their insanity.

Once I get reborn, the first thing I will do is swap mates with my cousin, Clara Evonfall. In my previous life, Clara and I had held our mate-bonding ceremonies on the same day. Clara, a docile and gentle she-wolf, was forced to become the mate of Gilbert Vargas, the cold and aloof Alpha of the Bloodthorn pack. On their bonding anniversary, Gilbert abandoned Clara just so he could be with his childhood sweetheart, Joanna Penning. Because of that incident, Clara and Gilbert gave each other the cold shoulder for the next 50 years. As for me, I've dreamed of becoming a Gamma warrior since I was a pup. But I ended up forming a mate bond with Oliver Stanton, a Beta playboy. Oliver disliked me for not being romantic enough, saying that I didn't know how to doll myself up for him. We argued with each other every day to the point that he rarely came home. When I open my eyes again, I realize that Clara and I have returned to the timeframe of two days before our bonding ceremonies.

I go to my boyfriend after hearing about him flirting with his college senior. On the way there, I get into an accident and suffer from temporary memory loss after a head injury. He hurries to the hospital but points at his stoic dormmate and claims he's my boyfriend instead. He wants to use this to get rid of me. I'm unaware of this, so I hold the handsome dormmate's hand and look at him with bright eyes. "So, you're my boyfriend." Later, I regain my memory but still want to be with the handsome dormmate. I want to sever ties with my boyfriend, but he breaks down.