Contos de Imagination com Bias e Romances com Superpowers

For ten years, I raised the finest bodyguard money could buy, and for a nanny's daughter, he turned his blade on me. I didn't spare a thought for the years between us. I had his tendons cut, his skills stripped away, and I threw him out of Meridian City. The live comments practically caught fire. [Somebody help, Celeste Ward has gone too far! Julian protected her for ten years, and the one time he didn't put her first, she's going to ruin him?] [This is the kind of love that terrifies me — if she can't have him, she'd rather destroy him. What did Julian even do wrong, trying to save the woman he loves?] [Run, Julian! A viper like her doesn't deserve your loyalty. Go to Amber — she's the one who can actually save you!] Me? Going too far? A traitor who turns on his own mistress for an outsider — if anything, I went easy on him. I gave a cold laugh, tore up his lifetime contract in front of everyone, and had every last one of his belongings burned. Then I went straight to the underground fight club and picked out the meanest, most reckless guy I could find. A month later, word reached Julian. He fought his way through every guard at my gate, half-dead by the time he made it to the door. He dropped to his knees in front of me, eyes rimmed red, clutching the hem of my skirt. "Miss Ward," he said, "that mongrel covered in tattoos — what does he have that I don't?"

I, Darlene Cooley, have an ability. Whenever I touch an object, I can see the scenes it has experienced over the past day. I've been married for five years. Every time I help my husband, Bernard Hoffman, tidy up his suits or organize his briefcase, what I see are conference rooms, whiteboards, and workstations. Once in a while, I appear in those scenes. He'll be secretly reading my messages under his desk, the corners of his mouth lifting unconsciously. Bernard is so gentle that it feels almost unreal. In winter, he places my slippers by the heater to warm them up. No matter how busy his business trips are, he video calls me right on time. When I casually mention I feel like eating caramel popcorn, he drives halfway across the city to stand in line for it. My friends all say I'm blessed, and I feel the same way. That is, until yesterday, when he comes back from a trip. I go to help him unpack, and the moment I touch that gray cashmere sweater, a flood of images rushes in. Bernard is sitting across from a short-haired woman. Her eyes are bright, and a shallow dimple appears when she smiles. He listens to her speak, earnest and focused, with his head tilted slightly to one side. A faint smile lingers at the corner of his mouth. It's been a long time since he has listened to me speak like that. The vision ends. I crouch in front of the suitcase, my hand still resting on the cashmere sweater, unable to snap out of it for a long while. Then, I stand up and walk over to the cabinet, where I pull out my own suitcase.

My long-lost older sister, Natalia, was pregnant when she was brought home. The moment my fiance, Duncan, saw her, he let go of my hand and strode to her side. He then confessed, “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Jacklin. The baby in Lia’s belly is mine. I will call off the wedding with Felicity.” I stood frozen in place. Then, a barrage of words floated before my eyes. Apparently, Duncan was the male lead, I was the villainess, and Natalia was still my sister. [Duncan returned to the past, didn’t he? He and Natalia were secretly seeing each other back then, but they never came clean because they didn’t want to hurt Felicity’s feelings. So, he got forced into marrying Felicity instead.] [After they got married, Felicity found out about their affair. She forced her parents to send Natalia overseas. Then, at the airport, she had a baggage cart crash into Natalia. The impact caused uterine rupture and severe hemorrhaging, and she died.] [Duncan despises Felicity. To get revenge for Natalia, he killed Felicity by letting her bleed out.] I bled out? I shot a glance at the man I had loved since childhood.

My roommate branded herself as an influencer against beauty standards, vowing to free girls from appearance anxiety. Strangely, whenever she stayed up late partying and broke out in pimples, they would appear on my face instead. When she fooled around and caught an infection, the rashes spread across my body. The more radiant she became, the more monstrous I looked. People recoiled from me. Friends cut me off. My own boyfriend, before a crowd, told me I should just die. Then my roommate got pregnant, yet it was my stomach that swelled like I was eight months along, scarred with terrifying stretch marks. She, meanwhile, looked more flawless than ever, appearing barefaced on camera to encourage girls not to fear their looks. I knew something was not right. When I tried to dig for answers, my roommate and boyfriend trapped me in a basement. They tortured me until I died. Only then did I learn the truth. He owned a cursed amulet that shifted all her pain onto me. The moment I opened my eyes, I was back on our first day of college together. This time, the game is mine. I'll make sure they pay.

In eight years together, my boyfriend—Shayne Raffield—blocked me eighty-eight times. This time? Because I missed his call. At my best friend's birthday party. Usually, I'd panic-order a gift, then stand outside his office, head down, ready to beg. But today? I blocked him first. The Chat Feed popped up, loud as ever: [Nooo, Ley-Bae, don't block Shay-Shay! He's just got abandonment issues. Comfort him!] [Shay's heart = shattered; Eyes = red. Ley, go! One pout and he's yours again!] Then Shayne called. Didn't say a word. Just breathed for ten seconds and hung up. The Chat Feed freaked out. [AHHHH SHAY LOVES LEY SO MUCH HE JUST SUCKS AT SAYING IT. THIS COWARD'S GONNA LOSE HIS GIRL.]

Jace Thorne—my childhood crush—crashed a car with me. I walked away fine. He "lost his memory." Plot twist: my dead grandma's soul moved in. "Jace is faking amnesia again to mess with my sweet granddaughter. If I were alive, I'd break his legs myself!" I blinked. Hard. Grandma's voice wouldn't shut up. "In her past life, Demi was miserable. Jace left her to rot while he partied with that Stafford girl. Had a heart attack, and he was lighting birthday candles. Trash!" Then came the kicker: "Your grandpa's letting you pick your fiancé. Don't even think about Jace. Pick Leroy. That boy's actually decent." Right on cue, Grandpa strolled into the hospital with the elder squad, slapped down pics of four legacy heirs, and told me to choose. I didn't even blink. Picked Leroy Leighton—my childhood nemesis turned fiancé. Because yeah, I'm a grandma's girl to the core. If she said Jace Thorne didn't love me, then I was so done.

I was in the middle of saving a heart attack patient's life, so I didn't drop everything to save my foster sister's dog. The next moment, I got a message from my fiancé, Felix Callier. Felix: [Because you let it die and did nothing, Tiffany's dog ended up in the animal hospital!] Felix: [Let's push back the wedding. Consider it your punishment.] This was the ninth time Felix had postponed our wedding because of one of Tiffany Kamp's tantrums. This time, I didn't want to play along anymore. Then the comment feed drifted across my vision. [Go find him on the rooftop, girl! He's actually in love with you. He already saw through the impostor's whole act.] [He's postponing the wedding to surprise you. He's secretly planning the wedding of the century for you!] My heart ached with guilt, and I ran straight for the rooftop to find him. The moment I reached the door, I heard Tiffany's teasing laugh. "Do you really think Roxy will come crawling back to beg forgiveness once she sees those words?" Felix's tone turned playful. "Of course. That's the AR technology my company just developed. Besides, she loves me so much that even a fake message won't make her suspicious. "This was her fault to begin with. She deserves a lesson." I froze where I stood. So even the comments that claimed to love me were just another game he was playing to humiliate me. I swallowed down the bitterness rising in my throat and turned to leave. Felix had no idea. The moment his fake comment feed vanished from my sight, the real one appeared.

I was the daughter of the Azurez Sect’s leader and its next heir. Unfortunately, on the eve of my succession ceremony, an accident occurred while I was descending the mountain to eliminate vengeful spirits. At a critical moment, my powers spiraled out of control, and I succumbed to demonic backlash. The spirits wounded me, and in an instant, all my cultivation was destroyed. My fiancé, Julian Zackman, ventured alone into the spirits’ lair to save me. He battled them for three days and three nights before finally bringing me back. However, in doing so, he lost an arm and a thousand years’ worth of cultivation. From that day on, he could no longer wield a sword. I was consumed with guilt. I even convinced myself that I would leave everything behind and live in seclusion with him, living a simple life together. However, by chance, I overheard a conversation between him and my father. “I know what I did to Queenie was wrong, but she was too powerful. I had no choice but to slip some of the delusional powder into her sachet to make her go astray. I needed to make sure Wendy could become Sect Leader.” My father looked at Julian’s empty sleeve with regret. “I understand your intentions, but you didn’t have to sacrifice your arm. You are my most gifted disciple. Without it, how will you ever wield a sword again?” “Master, don’t worry. It was only an illusion to deceive her. Once Wendy takes over the sect, I’ll arrange a place for Queenie at the foot of the mountain. Without cultivation, she’s worth nothing to Azurez Sect. She might as well live down there, farming, raising chickens, and living as a peasant woman. At least she’ll have a stable life that way.” My heart sank. Everything he did had been a lie. It was all to force me to give up my place. If the world had turned its back on me, I would tear it down in return.

The apocalypse has arrived. I carry multiple special abilities and am humanity's hope. However, my wife tears those powers out of me for the sake of her true love. I'm in unbearable pain. I beg her to stop, telling her I'll die. But she doesn't care at all. "Why are you so selfish? You have so many abilities and won't even give one to Ed. Stop being so dramatic. Why do you get to be the hero while my Ed stays an ordinary person?" What she doesn't know is that each special ability is like a heart—take it away, and the person dies.

To cure my half-sister's illness, my brother took my beast bone—all because I was a half-beast and had a strong self-healing ability. Later, to make me suffer in her place, the tiger beast servant I had cared for joined forces with my brother and sent me straight into the Beast Den. The tiger said I didn't deserve to be his master, and the one he wanted to protect was my sister. In the end, I was tortured and died a terrible death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I had to choose my beast servant.

Our SAT results came back, and our parents booked a private room at a Michelin-starred steakhouse to celebrate. Over dinner, they began discussing how we should apply to the same university so we could keep looking out for each other. I looked across the table at Derek and asked politely, “Derek, which university are you planning to apply to?” The moment the words left my mouth, comments suddenly flashed across my vision. [Here she goes again. Is this desperate side character going to apply to the same university as the male lead?] [I feel so bad for him. Just to keep the close ties between the families, he has to be okay with her clinging to him for three whole years!] [Don’t worry. He’s promised the prom queen, Eliza, to go to Columbo University together. He's definitely going to name a school thousands of miles away just to brush her off. I can’t wait to see her breakdown!] Derek stared at me, his brow furrowed as he sneered. “Sofia, what business is it of yours where I go? I’m applying to Southwest University, all the way to the South. Could you please stop following me around?” I met his gaze and nodded calmly. Then, I turned my attention toward the quiet young man standing near the entrance of the private room, holding the heavy coats and car keys for Derek’s family. He was the driver’s son. “Julian, which university are you going to?” I asked. “I’d like to go to the same one as you.” The sneer on Derek's face froze, and both of our parents stared in utter disbelief. None of them had any idea that the humble, quiet boy wearing a cheap hearing aid, whom Derek mocked as “the deaf boy” day in and day out, was actually the long-lost son of New City’s wealthiest tycoon, missing for eighteen whole years. And all those years I spent shamelessly dropping by the family's estate had nothing to do with clinging to Derek. I had only done it so that I could catch a few extra glimpses of Julian.

An ambulance rushed in during my night shift, carrying a pregnant woman in critical condition due to severe bleeding. I was about to head into the operating room when I suddenly saw a stream of comments appearing in front of me. "Don't go in there! That pregnant woman is your wife. She had sex with her side dude in the wilderness, and that's what caused the bleeding!" "Your wife is even planning to fake her death and run away with him. She's also setting you up for medical malpractice so you'll end up in prison!" "That baby isn't even yours. And your in-laws are already on their way with the police to arrest you!" After reading those comments, my expression turned dark. At that same moment, I heard the nurse urgently calling me to hurry.

In my fourth year trapped inside this oceanfront villa, a notification suddenly popped up on my old tablet. A memo had synced from the cloud. The title was “The Choice I Made at Eighteen.” It was a journal entry I’d saved to the cloud ten years ago, back when I was still in high school. In it, my younger self had asked hopefully: “Is it worth giving up the chance to train in Paris so I can stay and help Michael Grant build his company?” Every word showed just how hopelessly devoted I’d been to him. I stared at the screen for a long time before slowly lowering my gaze. My eyes fell on my feet. They’d been shattered beyond repair, leaving them permanently twisted and deformed. Just an hour ago, Michael had brought his twenty-year-old intern, Chloe Spencer, into our marital bed. Right in front of me, he’d had sex with her. Chloe had even deliberately left her pregnancy test on the floor for me to find. A bitter smile twisted my lips, uglier than tears. Then I jabbed at the screen, typing a reply beneath the memo. “Run. Go to Paris while you still can, before he breaks your legs!”

I was Windsor’s most untouchable heiress. The chairman of the university board was my grandfather. The student council president was my fiancé. The basketball team captain and the top student in our major were my childhood friends. Everyone said that if I wanted something at Windsor, I could have it. After taking a year off from college because of illness, I returned to campus. The moment I stepped through the gates, lines of comments suddenly appeared in front of me. [The spoiled heiress is back! She still doesn't know that all three male leads have fallen for the new transfer student.] [Jessica may be poor, but she's stubborn and kind. Watching her refuse financial help and insist on working part-time is heartbreaking.] [Natalie bullies Jessica because of her family's wealth. In the end, the male leads will all hate her. Even her fiancé will break off their engagement in front of everyone.] [I love watching spoiled rich girls lose everything!] When the three young men who once had eyes only for me insulted me at the opening ceremony just to defend a poor student, I simply smiled. Then I decided to stay away from them from that day forward. After all, a true heiress never needs to lose her mind over a man just to prove her worth.

After my family and I are dragged into a roguelike horror simulation, they favor my cousin, Julian Clark, over me. In a lobby of blood-soaked players, he always manages to stay spotless, earning their praise as someone who has "kept his humanity". He's unlike me, the brute who willingly throws himself into melee combat and hacks down monsters just to keep everyone else alive. During one dungeon run, a terrifying entity targets my younger sister, Millie Larsson. I draw my blade and move in for the kill, but Julian stops me with a sorrowful smile. "Every creature has a soul. Gabriel, if you kill it, you'll only enrage it and burden Millie with the sin of bloodshed." Millie believes all the nonsense he says and begins resenting me for interfering. Later, when a veteran player steals Julian's life-saving loot drop, I nearly die reclaiming it for him. Instead of thanking me, he takes pity on the woman robbing him and hands the item back to her. He condemns me for being too ruthless, claiming I know nothing about showing mercy to women. Then comes the advanced raid. Cornered by the final boss, I beg Julian to activate the high-tier talisman I've given him, buying me just one second to escape. He recoils from my bloodstained hand in disgust and turns to my parents instead. "Gabriel provoked the boss himself. He's too violent. I can't risk wiping the whole party just to save him." In the end, I die in the boss' jaws. Julian steps over my shattered bones and blood to clear the raid, eventually becoming the server's most celebrated player for being the Untainted Saint. But fate grants me a second chance. I awaken once more in the game's central lobby, right before everything begins. This time, I want to see how long their precious humanity lasts in a world overrun by horrors when the blood-soaked blade that always carries their party is no longer there to protect them.

On the first day that my parents' biological daughter, Lilith Ashbourne, comes home, everyone praises her refined temperament. They say even her body exudes a pleasant fragrance. I was born with the ability to see both the living and the dead. So, only I know that it's actually the stench of a corpse at its worst. In my previous life, I tried my best to persuade my parents and my childhood friends not to bring her home. However, they were convinced that I was jealous. They said that I was petty and intolerant. Left with no other choice, I kept warning them and trying my best to drive her away again and again. After the last time I chased Lilith out, she ran out crying. She accidentally fell into the water and couldn't be found again. They blamed everything on me and forced my head into a toilet, drowning me alive. When I open my eyes again, I choose to stay silent. After all, one can't save people who are determined to die.

One afternoon, I received a text from seven years in the future. The sender was me, Delilah Hanson. I assumed it was some new kind of scam, so I didn't even bother reading the message before firing off an angry reply. [Drop dead, scammer!] The sender responded with a photo of an empty bottle of sleeping pills. [I'm not a scammer, but I really am about to die. Break up with Caleb. Today is the first day he cheats on you. His first love just came back from overseas. Her name is Savannah Gordon.] I froze. The whole thing was so ridiculous that I almost laughed. I was Caleb Wheeler's first love! Right then, the door opened behind me. Caleb walked in with a woman beside him, smiling as he introduced us. "Delilah, there's someone I want you to meet. This is Savannah, my foster sister. She just got back today."

After my rebirth, the very first thing I did was ride from one blood donation van to another, giving blood until I nearly collapsed. Why? Because in my previous life, my fiancé's newly hired intern, Shirley Lynch, had bound herself to a blood-exchange system. Every milliliter she donated was siphoned directly from my own veins. In just a month, she transformed from an ordinary college girl into the nation's beloved Blood Angel, showered with fame and fortune, while I, suffering from severe anemia, was fired from the hospital for being unable to work. When I exposed her scheme to my fiancé, he looked at me with disgust and broke off our engagement. "You're selfish and cowardly," he sneered. "You refuse to donate your rare blood type, and now you slander Shirley? You call yourself a doctor, yet you believe in such ridiculous nonsense!" From then on, every time Shirley donated blood, I would suffer heart palpitations, dizziness, and sometimes collapse outright. I begged the doctors in my department for help, but my fiancé blocked every attempt, accusing me of jealousy and wasting medical resources. In the end, to steal my promotion ahead of schedule, Shirley donated a full 1000 milliliters of blood live on television. As her blood drained, so did mine. I went into shock and died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Shirley first claimed she carried my rare blood type.

For weeks, my husband had been disappearing for two hours every night. One night, I tailed him to a strange pawnshop. Inside, he was holding my nightgown. “I want to trade six months of her life. Wendy’s healthy. She’ll be fine.” Then he pulled out my lipstick and handed it to the shopkeeper. “It's only three days of her youth. She won't notice.” The shopkeeper placed my belongings on an antique bronze scale, selling off pieces of my life as if they were worth nothing. I stormed inside to stop them, but my husband grabbed me around the waist and pinned me against the cold counter. He pressed a kiss to my cheek. “You know Aria’s been coughing up blood. How can you just let her suffer? She’s only in this condition because of me.” Then, without a trace of hesitation, he crushed three of my fingers. I screamed, the pain so intense I nearly blacked out. “All you have to do is put up with a little pain, and Aria gets an entire day of relief. Seems like a fair trade to me.” The bronze scale flashed red, drowning out my screams. Then one day, my husband brought our wedding ring to the pawnshop. “She's worn this ring for ten years. I want to trade it for another ten years of life for Aria.” But this time, the shopkeeper smiled. “A transaction this large requires an exchange from both parties.” He turned to me. “Now, what would you like to take from him?”

The night before the SAT, I record a video call between my present self and my future self ten years from now. Except the line actually connects to my future self. "Did I make it into Crythoria University's joint bachelor's-master's program? Is Brielle still my best friend? "If everything went according to plan, I should be done with grad school by now and married to David, right? High school sweethearts tying the knot! "Maybe we even have a cute kid together? I've already picked out a nickname." I blush, letting my imagination run wild. But the moment David Barrett's name leaves my mouth, the future me flies into a rage. "David gave you disappearing ink pens so Brielle could become the top scorer in the city! You didn't get into Crythoria. You had to repeat your senior year. "David acted heartbroken and promised to make long-distance work. Then he turned right around, went public with Brielle at college, and became the couple everyone envies. "Felicity Fisher, you absolute idiot! You got cheated on and still thanked Brielle for taking care of your boyfriend!"