Ao3 Comments Novels & Stories

“Is this true?” I asked. I can’t believe of what I have read on the posts on the social media account of the two writers that I met, Sketch and Doodle. I read again the post of Sketch. I thought of something, not because there will be no update on his story but because of his post however I can’t remember where I read it before. Then, I read what Doodle had posted. I suddenly remember my story and I read the last scene that I wrote; same words, same scenarios and same comments like how I read their posts. I doubt quite a bit but really it amazed me which I don’t know why. That is why I read some of their last few posts and it was quite surreal which leads to a coincidental from the turn of events on what their real life is and on what I wrote. I won’t pay any attention to what is going on because I know it wouldn’t happen. It seems like my suspicion is true… the things that I’m writing is coming true when there are real people that’s involved on my story however I need to investigate this. Sketch wasn’t talking while driving, I can see on Doodle eyes how amazed he is while we travel, seeing a fine nature is really amazing while I seldom talk just to point where we have to move. I noticed Sketch glanced at me. I smiled. “I’m actually kidnapping both of you and you two are willing victim.” Sketch stepped on the breaks and it made a big screech of the car. “What?!” they both asked.

【What should I do if I’ve fallen in love with my sister’s fiancé?】 I came across an Instagram post from an account with a default profile picture on my flight back to New York. The comments were brutal, each one harsher than the last. Then I saw a reply from a burner account: 【Don’t blame her. I was the one who led her on.】 【She acts tough, but she’s more fragile than anyone. I just can’t help feeling sorry for her.】 My finger froze on the screen, because the profile picture on that account was the cat my boyfriend, Vincent, had given me. With trembling fingers, I opened the poster’s profile. There was only one video on it. In the video, a woman had her back to the camera as she bent down to water a nearly dead plant, a silver bracelet on her wrist. It was the matching bracelet mom had left for my sister Clara and me before she died. For a long moment, I could barely breathe. Suddenly, I thought back to the first time I brought Vincent home to meet Clara. After one failed relationship, Clara had decided all men were the same. She looked at Vincent coldly and said, “He’s no different from the rest. One day, he’ll betray you too.” Vincent held my hand then and said, each word clear and steady, “If I ever betray Nora, may I lose everything.” Clara only scoffed, “Then we’ll see.” But if all of this was true, I was caught between the sister who had raised me and the man I had loved for five years. What was I supposed to do?

I picked up the top university admission slot that the real heir didn't want. Horace Clark had gone crazy for love. He ran off with a failing student and dropped out, smashing the perfect life he had been handed. Meanwhile, I carried the label of an impostor who stole someone else's place. Step by step, I clawed my way up, became a rising name in the business world, and even married his childhood sweetheart. At the peak of my life, I opened my eyes again and found myself back in senior year, on the day we were filling out our college applications. And floating in front of me were lines of strange comments. [Brian, the fake heir, is a straight-up thief. He stole the life that was supposed to belong to the real heir, Horace!] [In his last life, the real heir completely lost his head over love. He dropped out of school, ran off with that rebellious troublemaker to start a business, and even handed his childhood fiancée to someone else. What a disaster. The guy was a total idiot!] [Good thing he gets a redo this time. The real heir has finally woken up. Now I really wanna see how the fake heir who stole someone else's life ends up crashing and burning.] I watched the comments quietly and sneered. Hate to break it to them, but the road I walked was carved out with my own hands. Even if Horace were reborn a hundred times, he still wouldn't be able to stop me from reaching the top and claiming my glory.

Annette Marechal at twenty-four, has finally understood the difference between: being loved and being used. Upon meeting Antoine Bourdeu, she believed that her life was finally going to be complete. She married him, two months after meeting him, madly in love with his thoughtful personality and his way of treating and caring for her. She never cared about the ten-year-old difference, nor the comments of Antoine's family towards her. Until he discovered the true root of his interest: his father's company about to fail. Knowing that she was used to reach her father, she confronted Antoine and he assured her that he had loved her, not as she would have liked, but as a means to an end. Full of pain and helplessness, suffering the betrayal of the supposed love of her life, Annette decided to leave never to return, Antoine Bourdeu, eldest son of the Bourdeu family, one of the wealthiest in France, did not believe in love, but in the commitment and stability that being married gave him in business. The beautiful Annette had seduced him, and he had fallen at her feet, driven mad by her emerald green eyes and mischievous gaze. She wanted to know the world and he promised to fulfill it. Until he realized how interested and manipulative his sweet Annette was. She left right after the ceremony, when he wanted to make her his body and soul. He disappeared from the map, taking with him more than his male pride. At least that's what he thought, because now, more cynical and stronger than ever, Antoine would return to take back what was his. No one denied Antoine Bourdeu

I had always thought I was the happiest woman in the world. After all, my fiance was rich, handsome, and thoughtful. To everyone else, he was practically perfect. However, I found three divorce decrees and death certificates of his three ex-wives in his drawer the day before our wedding. Before I could even process the shock, a wall of floating comments appeared before my eyes. 'So, she's the next victim, huh?' 'The last three thought they could change Ivan and insist on marrying him, although they found his secret, and look where it got them. This one is even dumber, completely blinded by love. I bet she thinks he can still be redeemed. Little does she know, he doesn't love her at all.' 'We need more villainous male leads! I wonder how this woman would die this time. I can't wait to see it!' 'Great news, friends! The female lead, Cynthia, will appear soon! She's the only one who can free Ivan from his dark thoughts!' The next moment, a colleague dropped to her knees and grabbed my thigh. Tears spilled from her eyes in an instant as she accused me, "Please, give my man back to me! Being a homewrecker won't end well for you. He and I are soulmates. He needs me to pull him out of the abyss. Only I can give him what he truly wants!" My other colleagues circled me and echoed her accusations. I simply nodded. Then I tore the wedding invitations in half. 'Go ahead. He's all yours now,' I thought.

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?"

My uncle, Jackson Yates, was a born pervert. While studying abroad, he was arrested for harassing female classmates and making lewd comments toward a female teacher. He was expelled and sent back home. After returning to the country, under the protection of my billionaire grandfather, he lived like an emperor, keeping hundreds of lovers in a villa. All of them vied for his attention. One day, he set his sights on my gentle, well-mannered wife—the rumored piano prodigy, Janelle Sanders. “My dear nephew, all because you grabbed your grandpa’s hand during your first birthday party game, the entire family chose you as the future heir. But as long as I don’t agree, you’ll never succeed.” He constantly harassed her, both verbally and physically. Janelle never tolerated it. She reported him to the police several times, resulting in him getting detained. She even scolded him sternly, “Cyril and I grew up together. Uncle Jackson, please remember your place!” Out of respect for his seniority, Janelle usually just reprimanded him coldly and walked away. Two years later, Jackson seemed to change. He took the initiative to manage a subsidiary and handled everything with impressive efficiency. Grandfather was pleased and handed the entire branch over to him. Just when I thought everything had returned to normal… At our son’s one-month celebration banquet, I saw Janelle in the kitchen. She was dressed provocatively as she desperately pressed herself against Jackson. Jackson lifted his head from her chest and gave me a smug smile.

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."

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT. RATED 18+. 90% STEAMY Selene never expected the thick darkness her life was about to plunge into. A young, new-adult wolf raised under the strict expectations of her aging father and the proud legacy of her ancestors, she’s lived by every rule—rules meant to keep her from losing to the rival dynasty threatening to claim the throne from her family, the prestigious Ravencrofts. But the one person she thought would protect her shatters her instead. Her father’s cold, public humiliation cuts deeper than any enemy’s blade, all because of the one flaw she can’t control—her heat. It surges too often, too powerfully, even outside mating season… and now it’s a curse she can’t escape. Broken and burning for release, Selene seeks reckless oblivion in the city’s most dangerous den of demons—a forbidden club dripping with sin and shadow. There, she collides with a sinfully irresistible stranger drawn to the wild, unrestrained heat she can’t hide. One night is all it takes for him to brand himself into her body and soul—a night of decadent, breathless pleasure she’ll never forget. But when the haze fades, Selene learns the devastating truth. The man who consumed her? Her older sister’s Alpha husband. He’s already tasted her. He wants more. And he’ll stop at nothing—no law, no loyalty, no taboo—to claim her completely. Now Selene is caught in a storm of forbidden desire, torn between resisting the man who could ruin her and surrendering to the sinful pull that could destroy them both. Because the only thing more dangerous than his touch… is how much she wants it. YOUR REVIEWS AND COMMENTS WILL BE SO MUCH APPRECIATED. PLEASE 🥺 🥺

I was having my lunch break when someone anonymously messaged my relationship consultation account. "The system has decided that I only have seven days before my task's deadline is up. What can I do to keep my wife from dying with me before the world itself kills me?" The text continued, "Will it work if I pretend that I cheated on her to make her hate me?" The comments below were filled with mockery. "God, tell your clickbait elsewhere. You're just going to get your arse kicked here." "Geez, grow some balls and just say you want to get rid of your wife. The world's going to kill you? I swear, these scumbags are getting more creative with their excuses." I was a relationship-based content creator who had made it really big, so a bit like this was not all that strange to me at all. I sneered and answered the question, "Cheating's a total cliche. If you want to kill every bit of love she has for you, destroy the memories she holds close to her heart, deny everything she's ever done for you, and make her think she's a complete joke." I continued, "If you want her to shed not a single tear after you die, you have to drench her very soul in hatred." The guy answered immediately, "Thank you. It's going to break my heart, but I'll have to do this." When I got home that night, my husband, who thought of me as his whole world, tossed our photo album into a brazier. That album had been with us for 10 years, and it was a record of our romantic moments. I stared at his face, but his expression was colder than any winter wind, and my heart nearly stopped beating right then and there.