Deviled Eggs Meme Novels & Stories

Doctor Elara Voss, a genius genetics and neuroscience level scientist was frozen for 25 years due to a rare illness. Before she was frozen her eggs were taken and secretly used in an illegal elite reproduction program, due to the rareness of the genes her eggs carry. Now she wakes up after 25 years to discover what was done to her, and then she also finds out that she has multiple children with different fathers scattered across the globe. In her journey to find the truth of what really happened to her 25 years ago, she also finds out that there are more secrets she has to uncover, and more danger is still coming her way. Will she be able to save herself, and find the identity of all her kids?, and will she be able to find love in the midst of all the chaos?.

My husband promises to go to my hometown with me for the New Year holidays this year after I go to his. But before the trip to my hometown is due, he suddenly tells me he doesn't want to go anymore. I argue with him about this, and he pummels me with a bat. Meanwhile, his family eggs him on, telling him to kill me. Intense pain shoots through me as the blows land. I try my best to fight back, but I can't win against the majority. As the sky darkens, everyone heads home for dinner after giving me a good beating. When I regain consciousness in a corner of the garden, I see sense.

"I didn’t even know it was yours! I never agreed to this—none of this was supposed to happen!" "Supposed to happen or not, that child is mine. And I don’t let what’s mine out of my sight." **** Clara had no choice other than selling her eggs to pay for her family's medical bills. But a mix-up lands her carrying the child of a dangerous Mafia lord, Mateo De Luca. Now, two months pregnant and trapped by her uncle’s debts, Clara faces the impossible choice of keeping her baby or losing everything. But Mateo isn’t done with her yet. He’s determined to find the woman carrying his heir—and when Clara realizes who the father is, everything changes.

After twenty years of knowing and loving my destined mate, Alpha Martin, we were finally about to get married. On the eve of the wedding, He skillfully picked out the lipstick shade I wanted from my makeup bag. That's when I knew: Alpha Martin had someone else. That girl was wearing the custom evening gown I'd prepared for the wedding banquet, clinking glasses with Alpha Martin in a mate's toast. Our friends surrounded her, respectfully calling her "Luna." I didn't cause a scene. Instead, I called the hospital. "Dr. Fabian, please dispose of the eggs I had frozen." Then I sent a message to that girl. "Yvonne Jimenez, would you like to marry Martin Daniels in my place?"

In my last life, my sister, Raven Webster, and I rescued two eggs. Her egg hatched into Snowviper, while mine became Blazewing. But Raven stole Blazewing from me. None of us could have imagined the world would end in a brutal heatwave apocalypse. Raven died from heat stroke in that inferno. And before she died, she tricked my husband, Snowviper, into strangling me with his own tail. Somehow, we were both reborn on the very day those eggs hatched. This time, Raven snatched up Snowviper. She thought having him would keep her safe through the heatwave apocalypse. What she didn't know was that Snowviper's powers could only be fueled by drinking fresh human blood every single day.

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

On my 18th round of IVF, I accidentally overheard a conversation between my husband and his secretary. Yvonne asked, "Babe, do you really have to have a baby with her? What about us?" Zayn explained, "Don't worry. I've already switched the eggs with yours. So, Candice will actually be carrying our child, and you won't have to suffer through pregnancy. When the child grows up, all the Summers fortune will be his!" I pretended I did not hear a word, focusing instead on raising the son I worked so hard to bring into this world. 18 years later, my son was celebrated as a "computer genius", and he returned home after earning his doctorate. I transferred all my shares and real estate to him without hesitation. That was when Zayn finally decided to come clean and said, "Candice, the truth is, Luca is actually mine and Yvonne's. Let's get a divorce, and it's time for Lucas to be reunited with his biological mother." I simply smiled and replied, "I agree to the divorce." After weaving this web for 18 years, it was finally time to reel it all in.

When I was born, the nurse handed me over to my parents, and the smiles on their faces instantly vanished. Hovering over their son's smooth head was a line of numbers that no one else could see. 6570 days. It was exactly 18 years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse thought they were just nervous first-time parents, but my parents knew the truth. That number was my lifespan. While everyone else in the delivery room was celebrating a new life, my parents were staring at my death. For the next 18 years, I was the most precious person in the family. No matter how poor we were, the eggs were always mine, the new clothes were always mine, and the meat was always mine. My younger sister could only look on enviously. My parents often told her, "Let your brother have it. He doesn't have much time left." I was well-behaved from a young age, never causing trouble, quietly waiting to die. On my 18th birthday, I blew out the candles and said a sincere goodbye to the world. The next day, my parents and sister, dressed in black clothes, walked into my room with swollen eyes. I rubbed my eyes, smiled at them, and said, "Good morning." The air froze. The sadness on their faces slowly turned into astonishment, then coldness.

Violette Snow, my older sister, and I have been chosen to complete missions for the Conquest System. Violette chose to make the gentle-looking fox her conquest target, while I chose the cold yet devoted bird. However, the fox turned out to be a huge flirt who didn't care about Violette at all. He spent all his time fooling around with others and even shared her with his buddies. She failed her mission and was at risk of having her soul wiped from existence. Meanwhile, the bird I chose ended up being the King of the Phoenix clan. After I managed to win him over, he doted on me. And once I gave birth to a few phoenix eggs, he made me his queen. Violette went mad with jealousy. Before the system erased her, she stabbed me to death first. My eyes open again. I've gone back in time to the day we chose our conquest targets. This time, Violette beats me to it and chooses the bird. I simply chuckle. Since she's so eager to be offered up as a blood sacrifice, as her younger sister, it's only right for me to let her have her way.

Led by my ex-boyfriend, the police raid the base of the major crime syndicate. The antagonist takes his own life, and the only person who could prove my identity as a top-secret undercover operative died two weeks ago. My ex-boyfriend drags me into court. He wants my memories extracted so I can face public judgment and sentencing. Nevertheless, I have no intention of explaining myself. "I plead guilty. Grant me a swift death." The masses are outraged, despising me with every fiber of their being. "Ha! You despicable traitor! You monster! You're a rat who exposes undercover journalists, yet you dare ask for a swift death? "This is the world of a novel. The maximum penalty for a guilty plea is euthanasia, but if judgment is passed by the court, you will suffer endless torment until your last breath!" "You don't deserve euthanasia. You belong in hell!" Rotten eggs and stones pelt me mercilessly. Even with my face now covered in blood, I make no effort to avoid the assaults. I only longed for death. My ex-boyfriend glares at me coldly. "You betrayed me. What right do you have to ask for a swift death? Your memories must be extracted and judged in court. Death will come only after your torment!" They are the ones who demand my memories be extracted and judged, yet after seeing them, why are they also the ones who go mad with regret?