Melodramatic Imagination Short Stories & Face Slapping Novels

The Merman I spent a fortune on called me ugly, while quickly falling in love with my pretty stepsister instead. I spent a ton of money to treat his injuries, but he said I wasn't sincere. I gave him the best house, but he called me vulgar, while treasuring the sticker my stepsister gave him as an afterthought. They cuddled right in front of me, eager to make me step aside. "It's just a simple sticker, but it's the greatest treasure ever to me! Women like you who only care about money would never understand that. So just give up already, Lyra. You will never measure up to Thea no matter what you do." "That's right… Lyra. Xir doesn't love you, so why force your love on him?" I was simply amused watching them harp on with their duet. Whoever said I wanted Xir's love? In fact, I was touching the burn scars on my face, thinking to myself that Xir would be an adult in three days. Legend said that the potion ground out of merfolk hearts could heal all scars. 'Dear Xir… I've done so much for you. It's time for you to repay me soon.'

I was the Holy Maiden of the Beast World, foretold by the High Priest. I was also the future Beast Lady. Three of the best males were carefully selected to become my mates. However, I knew that they disliked me, even planning to kill me on our wedding night and hand my Holy Maiden position to my half-sister, whom they truly loved. Thus, when my father asked me to choose one of them to be my chief mate, I knelt on the sacred ground and drew lots, hoping the heavens could help me. Unexpectedly, I drew the clan's High Priest.

Nathan Carter was famous in high society for being completely devoted to his wife. All because I had an almost obsessive need to control him. Not only did he have to video call me every five minutes to check in, but every morning when I woke up, I expected a five-thousand-word love letter waiting for me. The first time he was a minute late checking in, my paranoia spiraled out of control, and I bombarded him with ninety-nine voice messages, threatening to kill myself. He transferred me one million dollars, dropped to his knees, and swore it would never happen again before I reluctantly forgave him. His voice softened as he leaned closer, trying to kiss me. Suddenly, a flood of comments exploded across my vision. [Exactly! Once Quinn catches HIV, he should dump her. A villainess like her deserves to get sick, lose the baby, and die a miserable death!] [Who could put up with a crazy woman like her? If she hadn't pushed the male lead so hard, he never would've slept around and contracted HIV!] [When is the female lead finally going to show up? I can't wait for her and the male lead to heal each other and get their happily ever after!] I looked at Nathan, who had already taken off his shirt, his breathing heavy. I hurriedly grabbed a towel from the side and wrapped it around myself. "Honey, I'm suddenly not feeling very well. Don't you have a meeting to get to? You should go. I don't want to keep you from work."

"Sienna, he looks so pitiful." In my last life, I listened to my younger sister and chose the black fox who hadn't even taken human form as my fiancé. I poured everything I had into helping him take human form, but he carved out my inner core and presented it to my sister to curry her favor. When I lived again, at the mate-selection ceremony, my sister once more pointed pitifully at the black fox. In front of everyone, I chose the four-tailed white fox she wanted most. Then I "gifted" the black fox to her.

I'm a half-baked forensic examiner whose only redeeming quality is the ability to understand animals. The crime scene is inside a lavish villa. The lady of the house lies dead on the floor with a blunt-force injury to the back of her head so deep that her bone is visible. The safe has been pried open, and a million dollars in cash has vanished without a trace. Clear shoe prints mark the backyard wall, evidence that someone has climbed over it. "This one's clear as day. This is a textbook robbery-homicide. The suspect is likely a young male, around six feet tall, has a prior theft record, and knows how to cover his tracks. Check the surveillance footage in the area and look into places where he might've moved the stolen cash." The director of the forensic science center, Egbert Woodward, has been in the profession for three decades and is a widely respected authority. The officers at the scene nod in unison and begin taking notes. I'm the only one who stares at the 30 flies circling the ceiling for a full 3 minutes before taking a step forward and piping up, "Dr. Woodward, this isn't a robbery-homicide. It's a crime of passion. The murderer is the victim's husband!"

Everyone said Finley Floyd was a total family man. His dad had been dead for twenty years, and he still found him a wife. Then he started calling me—someone two years younger than him—"Mommy." Yeah. My hand slipped. I accidentally assigned the affection points to the wrong role. And somehow, Finley really believed I was his mother. When I told him—again—that I wasn't his mom, he snapped. He yanked me into his arms and buried his face against me. "You are Mommy!"

After three years of pursuing Vicky Donovan, she finally accepts my confession and agrees to be my girlfriend. Just as I'm happily envisioning our future together, I suddenly receive an anonymous video on my phone. The video shows a roadside beggar with disheveled hair, sitting by a dumpster and clutching a phone in his hand. He looks very emotionally distraught. "Don't believe Vicky at all! She only agreed to be your girlfriend because she found out you're secretly a millionaire! "She will insist on a whirlwind marriage with you and steal all of your money before making a run for it, spending the rest of her days with her lover and leaving you with a mountain of debt!" Then the beggar finally lifts his hair from his face, exposing his face to me—it's completely identical to mine. "You'll end up like me if you don't take my advice!" After the video ends, it takes me a long time to come to my senses. But just as I'm about to replay the video to see if it's all just a scam, I realize it's gone. While I'm still in a daze, Vicky steps out of the bathroom and wraps her arms around my waist, cooing, "Let's get married, Colin Atkinson."

The day I got fired, I received a trial pass from an AI cosmetic clinic. It required neither surgery nor recovery time, yet it could deliver a flawless celebrity face overnight. But there was a catch. The face only lasted seven days after the complimentary trial. To keep it, I signed a contract to become the actress' body double, trading my time, identity, and freedom for another week of beauty. As the years passed, I kept paying the price to maintain a face that wasn't mine until one day, I realized I no longer wanted to live in someone else's shadow.

For a $5 million research stipend, I agreed to let the System install an empathic link inside my body. "Subject. Are you sure you want to proceed? Once installed, the procedure cannot be reversed. This is a prototype. Side effects are not fully characterized." I looked at the sidewalk-stall clothes my girlfriend Cara Lake had bought herself, and the drugstore-grade makeup on her vanity. I nodded. That night, while she was out at her bar job. A current came up out of nowhere inside me. My whole body lit up with a sickening pleasure that did not belong to me. Seven times. A few days later I waited near the club where she worked. I overheard her with her friends. "Cara. You're something else. Pouring La Prairie into a plastic bag and using it like that? Faking poor like a champion. Doesn't Adam ever notice?" "Notice? He's stupid. He'll believe anything I say. His father got hit by a car, lay in bed without the money for treatment, died alone. I told Adam I couldn't help. He stayed up all night comforting me. I almost died laughing." The laughter went into me like a knife. I got out of there. The tears came on the walk home. I picked up the phone. "Professor. I'll go to the classified institute. I'll go now."

Dario Morello came from old money in Santria City—but his family was cursed. Every guy in that bloodline dropped dead before twenty-five, like something sucked the life out of them. The only way out? Marry someone with a rare fertility gene. In my last life, my adopted sister Serena jacked my wedding dress and took my place at the altar. I exposed her right there in front of everyone. She became Santria's biggest joke. Then she killed herself. My parents said I was heartless. Cut me off without blinking. Dario? He hated me too. On the anniversary of Serena's death, he locked me in a basement, strapped me with explosives, and snapped, "That fertility gene lie? You made it up for clout and cash. Serena was pregnant with my kid. You killed them both. So now—you're going with her." Next thing I knew, I was waking up on the morning of the wedding. This time? I helped Serena with the veil and wished them a perfect life.

I'm the primary surgeon of the nation's biggest medical malpractice case. Apparently, I've screwed up intentionally in a joint surgery that leads to the instant deaths of five patients. My wife, Wanda Johnson's mother is one of them. The medical world purges my name immediately. The Internet demands that I pay the price with my own life. The patients' families kneel before the court with a petition. With tears running down my cheeks, they plead to the court to sentence me to death. In order to ease the public outrage, the court decides to euthanize me. The head of the investigative team of the health department wants to activate Project Nightingale. With the power of AI, the truth of what happened in the surgery will be re-enacted. But Wanda, who also works as a police officer, shoots that idea down. "There's no need for that. Do you actually want the patients' families to witness how their loved ones die again? The youngest patient is just an eight-year-old, you know! Let's just euthanize him!"

After the great war between humans, vampires, werewolves, and elves, an agreement was made that hybrid offspring would rule the world. Every century, alliances through marriage between humans and those three clans would decide the next ruler. Whoever bore the first hybrid child would claim power for their line. In my previous life, I chose to marry Jax, the eldest son of the werewolf pack, known for his fierce loyalty. I gave birth to our hybrid son, a white-furred pup we named Zeal. Our child became the next world ruler, and Jax gained immense power. My sister had lusted after the elves' beauty and married into their clan. But the elf prince slept with every female in the forest. In the end, my sister caught a disease that left her barren. Jealous and bitter, she set a fire that burned me and my young pup alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the racial alliances. My sister had already slept with Jax first. I knew she had been reborn too. But she didn't know that Jax was brutally savage with his mates, having torn countless she-wolves apart in his bed during his ruts.