Plot Twists Superpowers Short Stories & Novels

I always had a unique kind of mind-reading ability—I could hear the thoughts of people who didn't truly love me. On the night before my wedding, I suddenly heard my fiance's thoughts. 'If she shows up unexpectedly to disrupt the wedding tomorrow, will wearing leather shoes make it harder to escape?' I didn't say a word. The next day, without a second thought, I boarded a plane and left Chilia. In the end, that wedding, regarding a runaway bride and groom who never showed up, became the city's most infamous joke.

I get reborn, this time bound to a simp system. In my previous life, when the apocalypse happened during Christmas Eve, I gave Victoria Blake, a beautiful woman, shelter and respite, only for her to backstab me in the end. Apparently, she had revealed my home's location to a scion named Tristan Cole when I wasn't paying attention. Not only did those bastards take over my shelter, but they also tossed me to the zombie horde. When Tristan asked Victoria if she felt guilty, she just reclined in his arms while tittering daintily. "That's just one of the lapdogs I've reared. If he's dead, then so be it." Now that I'm given a second chance at life, I'll make sure to repay them for the pain and hurt they've caused me in my previous life.

I set fire to my painting in front of the entire academy. Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd as everyone thinks it's some kind of performance art. Unlike them, Willow Laurent is distraught. She rushes up and grabs my hand, questioning in a shrill voice, "Cassidy Seymour, have you gone mad? This is your only chance to prove yourself!" I shake her hand off me coldly. My only chance? No… What she means is that it's her chance. In my past life, I created this masterpiece with all my heart and soul. But she stole it from me and submitted it as her entry first. Whether it was the composition, the colors, or even my original dot-stippling technique… She replicated every detail flawlessly. Then, she won the National Young Artists Gold Award, signed with a top gallery, and became a rising star. And what about me? I was condemned as a shameless plagiarist. Insults and curses gradually drowned me. "You shouldn't be an artist!" "Plagiarists are scum! They should just die!" Her fans stormed into my studio, smashed my art supplies, and broke my right hand. As I saw no end to the hell that I was living in, I jumped down from the top floor of my studio. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the very day she first accuses me of plagiarism.

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.

My husband Norman had always hated how his childhood friend Julia clung to him no matter the occasion. He even cut her off for my sake. One morning, I woke up and realized that I had mysteriously swapped bodies with Julia. I wanted to find my husband and figure out what to do, fearing he'd turn me away because of Julia's appearance. I cooked up a hundred explanations in my head until I finally arrived at our home. When Norman opened the door and saw me, he frowned and quickly shut the door, pushing me away. Just as I was about to explain that I wasn't Julia, he suddenly pulled me into his arms. "What are you doing here? Can't stand being apart from me for even two days, huh?"

On my birthday, my boyfriend gave me a pearl bracelet and claimed it would bring wealth. I did not believe it. However, just a few days later, I actually won 15 million dollars. I happily went to claim my prize, but the very next day, my bank balance vanished overnight. Not only that, I was left paralyzed from the waist down, and my appearance aged by thirty years! I cried and went to my boyfriend for help, only to find out that he, once poor, was then driving a sports car. His paralyzed sister miraculously stood up overnight, while even his sixty-year-old mother transformed into a young woman, as if reborn. I confronted him, asking if the pearl bracelet was cursed. He shoved me to the ground, saying, "What kind of crazy person are you? I think you've watched too much TV and lost your mind!" After dying in anger, I was reborn on my birthday. My boyfriend eyed me with ill intent, holding a pearl bracelet in his hand, preparing to put it on me...

I accidentally spent the night with a wealthy heiress from Kingscourt after she was drugged. The next morning, I panicked and slipped away before she woke up. The following day, her childhood friend came to find me. He handed me a check for one million dollars and told me to leave the country. My eyes practically lit up. Just as I was about to take the check, I suddenly heard his thoughts. "Once he accepts the money, I'll report him for extortion and send him straight to prison. "Then I'll tell Valerie Cooper that I was the man from that night, marry into the family myself, and let him rot in jail." A chill ran down my spine. Well, he should've said so earlier. I can still tell the difference between one million dollars... and a lifetime of wealth and luxury.

God gave me a beautiful face and a wealthy life. At the same time, He gave me the personality of a hopeless pushover and a simp. In my previous life, I fawned over Gabert Yates, putting him first in everything. In the end, Gabert, my obsessive childhood friend, imprisoned me in a pitch-dark basement, kept me as his captive, and tortured me to death. When I got a second chance, a few lines of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Chelsea Ziegler, remember this at all times! Simps end up with nothing!] [Your childhood friend is a total masochist. Crybaby, don’t be scared. Scold him!] [He’ll even give you his life if you insult him hard enough!] I wiped away my tears as I tilted my head up and spoke to him in a soft, trembling voice, “Y-you’re just a shameful illegitimate child… a bastard!” More comments popped up: [Yes, that’s more like it, but not harsh enough. Slap him!] I stood on my tiptoes, stumbling a little as I tried to reach up and slap his face. The “smack” was not loud, but it was crisp. Gabert’s dark, unhinged gaze suddenly deepened. Things seemed to be getting interesting…

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!”

My childhood friend and I were both prodigies who grew up in an orphanage. I was born with a gift for divination, able to hear the Moon Goddess's oracles and perceive the threads of fate. She was born with an uncanny gift for attracting wealth, her fortune so extraordinary that even a scratch-off ticket could empty the jackpot pool. When we were eighteen, we found a wolf at the edge of our territory, his body covered in wounds. He was Alaric, one of the top contenders for the Lycan throne, brought low by a betrayal on the night that mattered most. I read the omens. My childhood friend pulled together the funds. Together we helped Alaric fight his way back and reclaim everything that was rightfully his. The moment Alaric became Lycan King, the first thing he did was perform the Bonding ceremony with my childhood friend. They were bonded as mates, and before long had brought two remarkably gifted pups into the world. As for me, I had grown weary of life among others and retreated alone into the depths of the forest. Ten years passed. The Crescent Moon Pack was finally welcoming another pup. He was overjoyed. He hired a private helicopter in the dead of night and flew into the forest, imploring me to appear and bless the newborn. Naturally I agreed, and I made my way to the top-floor VIP suite, where I pressed a blessing from the Moon Goddess onto the little princess's brow using moonflower nectar. On my way out, a sudden impulse took hold of me, and I tossed the star dice to read my childhood friend's fortune. The dice hit the floor and shattered, every last one of them, radiating the unmistakable scent of death. Ice flooded my chest. My gaze turned cold in an instant. If my childhood friend had already died, then who was this woman reclining against the headboard of the hospital bed, looking at me with such gentleness?

An overpass in Winfeld that's still under construction ends up collapsing, leading to the deaths of many. Family members of the victims are up in arms, demanding that the person in charge pay the price for the incident. As the quality assurance inspector, I'm brought to court. However, I am just an intern. The real perpetrators are out clinking glasses, celebrating a clean getaway and the fact that they have a new scapegoat. Out of nowhere, the court introduces a new trial system that involves the extraction of memories directly from one's mind. In the middle of this major incident, a terrifying truth emerges. Everything goes all the way back to my university days…

My roommate had a peculiar knack for pestering everyone into liking her posts on social media, all so she could collect enough likes to claim some prize or another. It was her way of life—nagging, nudging, and guilting us into clicking that little thumbs-up. One time, the campus beauty queen liked my roommate's ad for a facial mask. Not long after, she was in a horrific car accident. The vehicle caught fire, and her face suffered severe burns, leaving her disfigured beyond recognition. Meanwhile, my roommate seemed to undergo a miraculous transformation, her complexion turning porcelain fair and flawless as though she'd been kissed by the heavens. Then there was the academic prodigy, a shoe-in for graduate school, who liked her tutoring service post. Shortly after, he was exposed for academic fraud, and his once-brilliant reputation was reduced to ashes. Strangely enough, my roommate's research paper suddenly won an award, catapulting her to fame and fortune. And me? I fell into her trap too. I liked her rental agency ad, and before I knew it, my world crumbled. A scandal erupted, revealing that I was the result of a mix-up at birth. It turned out she was the long-lost child of wealth and privilege—a hidden gem cast into the rough, now reclaimed by her rightful family. As for me, I was packed off to the countryside village she had escaped from and forced into a brutal marriage with an old man. My life became a living hell, and eventually, I died there, broken and forgotten. But fate wasn't done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my roommate begged me to like her post in exchange for yet another prize.

I am the only pure-blood white wolf in the entire werewolf federation. I am the Chief Healer. The pack's very survival rests in my hands. Blessed by the Moon Goddess, my bloodline gives me a rare gift. I see the true emotions of other wolves toward me as a visible aura of the soul. It is more than just a scent. It is the true measure of a wolf's desire and loyalty. The closer the color is to pure gold, the deeper the devotion. It means a love fierce, possessive, and endless. Four years ago, Alpha Derrick claimed me. His soul flared pure gold. It burned with a heat so fierce it nearly swallowed me whole. For four full years, we were the pack's golden couple. Everyone envied us. Then Nadia arrived six months ago. A fallen guard's widow. She moved straight into our territory. Today was our fourth mating anniversary, and our daughter's birthday. We had no celebration. Instead, Derrick slammed our mind-link shut. A cold, suffocating silence choked my head. I drove through the pouring rain to the pack border. In the storm, Derrick held a sobbing Nadia tight against his chest. Their scents bled together with zero shame, zero boundaries. That pure gold on him had faded to a much lighter shade, no longer as radiant as before. The soul never lies. My inner wolf whimpered, curled up in agony, and went cold. The message was clear. We were done with this tainted soul. I did not scream. I did not confront him. Instead, I used his arrogant pride against him. I slipped a Mate Severing Agreement, pre-approved by the High Elder Council, into Nadia's medical aid fund. He had no idea. His personal seal stamped the page. The moment I cross the pack border, the bond will shatter. After tonight, we are nothing to each other.

When the heatwave apocalypse hit, the world turned into a literal oven. It was 140 degrees outside. The water dried up, and the power grid went completely dead. We had no choice but to make a run for the underground bunkers. Luckily, my boyfriend, Hudson, awakened ice powers. He is a man of few words, but he caters to my every whim. One day, I was being my usual spoiled self, begging him to waste his precious energy to make me some ice cream, when a sudden memory flooded my brain. It was a plotline. I realized I was living in a romance novel, and I was nothing but the useless, high-maintenance side character. All beauty, zero survival skills, and a constant burden to Hudson. According to the plot, he would eventually leave me behind, and I would die a gruesome death at the hands of some wasteland raiders. Meanwhile, Hudson would meet the REAL female lead—a woman as strong and capable as him. Terrified, I decided to pull away and stop weighing him down. But I didn't expect that the moment I distanced myself, Hudson would snatch the back of my neck, kissing me with a vicious, uncharted possessiveness. "Are you bored of me? Trying to shake me off?" he growled against my lips. "I'll never let that happen."

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.

In my fifth year with the fallen heir, Connor Garrett, I make 99 wishes for him. As a result, I age and turn into an old woman. He, on the other hand, rises to become the richest man. However, he immediately turns around and proposes to his first love, Nadine Zeigler. He says to her, "Nadie, you have no idea how much I went through to marry you." Nadine toys with a diamond ring worth billions and asks, "What about that follower of yours who grants wishes?" Connor gives a carefree scoff. "She's just a tool who traded her youth for my fortune. Does she really think I will marry an old woman?" I stand in the shadows and silently make my final wish. Without my help, I would like to see how he will rise again this time.

On the day the heir to a mafia family was supposed to meet my best friend in person, she shoved me forward. I stared at her. “He’s your online boyfriend. Why should I go?” She smiled without a hint of shame. “I don’t want to waste the best years of my life on a cripple! Besides, I’ve been sending him your pictures for the past two months.” I opened my mouth to curse her out, but translucent comments suddenly drifted across my vision: [Why did the female lead give this chance to that scheming supporting female character?! Gus’ legs are about to heal, and he’s worth $20 billion!] [Relax. He only loves the female lead. He wouldn’t give that supporting female side character a second glance. He’ll toss her $200 million and send her packing!] Pay me off with $200 million and send me packing? As a captivating beauty with a naturally alluring scent, adored by everyone but desperately short on cash, I swallowed hard and pushed the door open. “Mr. Cooper, did you bring what we need to get married? I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

When I found out about Kenneth Hale, I didn’t argue with Claire O’Neill. I simply handed her the divorce papers. Her eyes turned red as she sat there. After struggling with the decision for a moment, she tore them up. "Give me ten days. I’ll send Kenneth far away, and he’ll never appear in our lives again." So over the next ten days, Claire went whitewater rafting with him, climbed snow-covered mountains, bungee jumped, and went skydiving. They did every thrilling thing they could think of. They watched the sunrise together by the ocean and went to Silver Pines Retreat to meditate, filling those days with every romantic experience imaginable. Then, on the ninth night, after I had packed all my belongings, I accidentally answered a video call from myself ten years in the past. "You really are me ten years from now! Then Claire and I must already be married with kids, right?" Pain flickered in my eyes. I walked straight onto the balcony and pointed the camera down at Claire and Kenneth, who were holding each other tightly, unable to let go. "This is what happens." Finley Morton looked as if he’d been struck by lightning. "That’s impossible…" My voice was exhausted, as though every last bit of strength had been drained from me. "Finley, please. Don’t marry her."

"Honey, the soles of my shoes are made of sheepskin. I can't get them wet, so come pick me up right away." Just as I send a WhatsApp message to my wife, Cora Harden, a barrage of floating comments explodes in front of me in the downpour. "I really can't stand a high-maintenance second male lead like Allen Brandt. Cora, the female lead, is a billionaire CEO, and yet she lets him boss her around like a lapdog." "The male lead has already joined the company. Once Cora sees how sweet and thoughtful he is, she's dumping that loser Allen for good." "This is hilarious. After the divorce, Allen can't do anything, so he'll end up as some cheap thirst-trap live streamer." Staring at the screen of venomous insults, I clench my fists in anger. Just then, Cora arrives with an umbrella, half of her bespoke dress soaked from the rain. Noticing my whitened knuckles, she pauses for a moment, then timidly tugs at my sleeve. "Sorry, darling. If I had driven any faster, I would have been speeding."

I got my hands on a crystal necklace from a witch, one that let me swap anything with anyone. The second I took it, lines of text flickered across my vision like a live comment feed. [Oh no, the Wolf Alliance Academy Trials are about to start. The villain's definitely going to use that Exchange Necklace to steal the heroine's scores.] [Relax. The heroine already overheard their whole scheme. She's just gonna leave her exam blank. Good luck swapping a zero.] [Our girl is the Alpha's daughter. Even if she bombs the Trials, she'll inherit his position anyway. What's the villain gonna do about that?] I gripped the Exchange Necklace tighter. Her test scores? Please. That wasn't what I was after. I wanted something far more important.