Death Note Rem Cosplay Novels & Stories

While my corpse was rotting in the morgue, my fiancé, Ron Corleone, was comforting my murderer. Lisa Corleone sobbed as she said, “After we were kidnapped and brought here, Wendy disappeared. We don’t know if she managed to escape. It was all my fault. If I hadn’t insisted on going out with Wendy…” Ron’s face was ice cold. “The future mistress of the Corleone family actually abandoned my sister and fled on her own. If she dares to come back, I’ll break her arms and legs and turn her into a maggot that only deserves to live in the dark!” In fact, I did die in some random corner with my limbs broken. The truth about my death made Ron, who had vowed to make me regret my existence, crazy.

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family. The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort. In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown. “Not her.” In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident. “Still not her.” In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death. By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect. Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness. After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.

After the birth of our daughter, my husband left for a dangerous mission. My in-laws' initial joy soured, and they regarded my baby with disdain. Maria, my mother-in-law, was particularly scornful. In a rare show of familial love, my father-in-law Lincoln took my daughter out for a playdate. I thought he had finally grown fond of her, only for him to strike me the moment he returned. "How dare you betray my son! I'll kill you!" "Yes! Beat that loose woman to death together with that brat!" Shifting my gaze from the report on the floor to my furious father-in-law, I pulled out several photos—my naked mother-in-law Maria, caught with another man. "Let's see who the real loose woman is!"

After being brutally dumped by her boyfriend Rafael, Lyra goes to an upscale bar to drown her sorrows. What she doesn't know is that her own sister, Cassandre, lured her there with a dark intention: to take advantage of her vulnerability to drug her with an aphrodisiac and then sell her to a pervert. Under the influence of the substance, Lyra completely loses control and spends an intense night with a stranger. In the early morning, overwhelmed by shame and confusion, she hurriedly leaves the room, leaving a 100-euro note and a note of defiance: "You are worth no more." But for Alexandre, CEO of a powerful group, that night marks a turning point. He is determined to find this young woman with the fiery gaze. However, on his quest, a car accident plunges him into amnesia. Two months later, barely recovered, he resumes the investigation and goes to the address he was searching for before the drama. There he meets Cassandre, who, without the slightest hesitation, impersonates her sister by claiming to be the mysterious one-night lover. But lies come at a price.

Three days after I died, my fiancé got a call to ID the body. He just scoffed. "She's dead, so what? Call me when she's in the ground." The cops, out of options, hit up my backup contact—my childhood friend. He actually laughed. "She's really gone? Not my problem. Burn her or whatever." Then my body hit the internet— And suddenly, both of them looked like ghosts.

My husband, an Army regimental commander, was killed in action. Before his body was even cold, I didn't hesitate. I filed for his death certificate and notified the Army, the Social Security Administration, and our bank. Then, three days later—on the very day his twin brother married his childhood sweetheart—I moved out, changed the locks, and remarried quietly at the courthouse, taking my son and the full line-of-duty death benefits with me. To everyone else, I was heartless. Cold. I let them curse me. I just looked into my “brother-in-law's” bloodshot eyes and felt a quiet, cruel satisfaction. Only I knew the truth. In my last life, I discovered the body sent home wasn't my husband's at all—it was his identical twin brother's. I ran to confront him, but by chance I overheard him and my mother-in-law whispering. "Mom, Sarah is strong. And we have our son. She'll be okay. The benefits will take care of her. But Amy has waited for my brother all these years. If she finds out he's dead, she might do something drastic." Their words struck me like lightning. I tried to expose them, but my husband knocked me out. He told everyone grief had driven me insane. He locked me in the garage apartment and, with cold detachment, married his sweetheart. And when that woman complained my son was too loud, my husband slipped sleeping pills into our boy's juice—right as my crying child was coming to look for me. My son never woke up. The day they buried him hastily, I ended my life in the garage, utterly broken. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day they delivered my brother-in-law's body to our home.

Azmia, a housewife who has to accept the harst reality. When she is pregnant, Bram (her husband) is dragged into the word of coercion by Bram's bos. Azmia' brain tumor and Bram's infidelity accompanied the birth of their baby. Azmia struggle and tries to save Bram and their househode from the abyys destruction. However, happiness only last from a moment. The dead of her six - month - old baby Micca left a wound in her hearth. Losing Micca made Azmia cold and away from Bram. She's back to being a hedonistict women. Reuniting with Baren (a man whos still loves her) and knowing the life stories of her friends makes Azmia realize what she really wants in life. When Baren and Bram fought over Azmia's love, suddenly Azmia's condition was critical.

After my parents died, the family went bankrupt, leaving my brother and me with a large sum of debt. To pay it off, he became a haunted-house test sleeper, while I acted as a corpse on film sets. For five years, we worked tirelessly, not daring to rest a single day—and still, the debt wasn't cleared. By the end of the year, only 13 thousand dollars remained. Gritting my teeth, I signed up as a clinical trial volunteer. When it was over, I dragged 13 thousand dollars in cash, brimming with joy, to show my brother. But I found him frowning, on the phone. "Dad, Mom, Lily's doing well. Have fun abroad," he said. "She's stopped spending recklessly. The punishment ends next year." What? Our parents weren't dead? Our family wasn't bankrupt? The five years of hardship, every ounce of struggle—I'd endured it all as punishment for my love of spending. My smile froze on my face. My stomach churned violently. A mouthful of fresh blood spilled out.

Have you ever imagined what it is like to live in a rich and respected family? when you have to uphold the crown that was attached to your identity from birth. How you need to try hard and live by the standards that others have set for you. you are demanded to be perfect, failing which you will be left out without thinking twice. No matter how hard the options life gives, These are the options one has. The story takes you into an emotional journey of how difficult it is to choose and more so to live by your own choices and decision

“You think after I paid a million dollars for you, I’d just let you go?” Alastair asked for a payback. “Please, stay as my mate. I love you,” Gabriel lied to me. “You're the one I've been searching for all this time. Be my Luna.” Romero couldn’t solve my problem. “I’m sorry. As I said, I had to do something elsewhere.” Harlow left me. It was like the Moon Goddess wouldn't care. She shoved me to those screwed-up mates, enough to torture me. *** Alexa Dawson was an orphan. Her stepmother sold her to pay a million-dollar debt in an auction. Even Alpha Gabriel, her fated mate, didn't care about her. Alpha Alastair, who turned out to be her second chance mate, bought her from the auction, only to imprison her in a dungeon. After a week, a mysterious man named Harlow saved her from the cell and took her out of town to become a rogue. A prophecy from the Moon Goddess revealed her destiny of becoming the Supreme Luna. She would unite all werewolf packs under one leadership with the Alpha she chose. Who would she choose? Could she fulfill her destiny as the Supreme Luna?