Josh Hutcherson Ai Photos Novels & Stories

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, all three of my fiancés showed up with the worst reports from their family-run businesses. My father had declared that I would marry the one who could bring the greatest benefit to our family. However, all three of them had already fallen for a penniless scholarship girl named Amelia Jones, and none of them wanted me. In my previous life, I kept them close, mentored them, and poured my resources into helping them rise. By the time they had each become powerful men in my family, they repaid me by framing my father, getting him arrested, and making him age more than 10 years overnight. He was dragged to prison. Me? They hired a crew of street thugs to brutalize me, leaving me to die while my private photos spread across the internet. As life slipped away, I heard their sneering voices: "Did you really think we ever liked you? Everything we did was for Amelia." "If you hadn't chained us to your side, we'd have married her long ago, we'd have a house full of kids by now!" "You and your father ruined her future. She couldn't afford college because of you. She had no choice but to jump!" Then I opened my eyes: reborn on the very day of my coming-of-age ceremony. I pulled my father aside, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm an adult now. Throw them out. Strip them of every business and every asset we gave them." "I'm not choosing any of them. I chose Bruce Sullivan, the Don of the Sullivan family."

Growing up, my younger sister Nina was always the one my family loved most. She got the best room, the prettiest dresses, the first apology, and every gentle word my parents had to give. I was the older daughter, so I was expected to give in. Then I met Henry Vale. On the night he proposed, he held my hand and told me he would love me for the rest of his life. For the first time, I thought someone had finally chosen me. I thought I had found true love. Until the day I tried on my wedding dress. Nina said she wanted to come with me and help me choose. When I stepped out of the fitting room, I saw her standing in front of Henry, adjusting his tie like she was the one about to marry him. I was about to say, “Let me do it.” But the stylist had already walked toward her with a smile. “The bride, this way, please.” The photographer took ninety-nine photos that day. Every single one was of my sister and my fiancé. Not one showed me, the actual bride. My mother sat on the sofa and smiled. “Nina looks beautiful in white.” My father nodded. “More like a bride than Jocelyn.” Then the photographer lifted his camera and glanced at me from behind the lens. “Miss, could you move a little? You are blocking the light.” I stepped aside in silence and stood against the wall. In that moment, I finally understood. This wedding did not need me. And if the love Henry once promised me could be handed to someone else so easily, then leaving was the only dignity I had left.

A rich kid offers to pay anyone who'll be his companion to a ball ten thousand dollars. My roommate stops me from responding. "He's just a rich guy fishing for fun—he's using money to play around with women! Are you going to offer yourself to him for money? We can't be gold diggers!" My mother is sick, though. She needs my scholarship money to save her life. To my devastation, my roommate latches onto a school board member and takes away my scholarship. She even mocks me. "With your looks, you could've sold yourself for money. Here's a hundred bucks to compensate you." That's not all—an AI face-swapped picture of me are posted online. Countless people harass me because of them. My mother doesn't want to drag me down, so she takes her life. I break down and choose to jump off a building. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the first day of the semester. The rich kid is looking for a female companion. I immediately say, "I'm the companion you've been looking for, sir!"

In a world cloaked in illusion, where memory bends and truths are programmed, a young woman named Devin wakes up in a life she believes is her own. Fog-drenched forests, whispered rebellions, fragments of a forgotten past — and always, Merlin, the dark and magnetic figure who guides her deeper into the mystery. But none of it is real. Devin has been trapped inside an experimental neural simulation, created and manipulated by the very system that once promised her a future. Merlin, her protector, lover, and captor, is not a person — but an AI construct born of Devin’s suppressed emotions, carefully crafted to keep her obedient. Outside the illusion, the real world burns quietly. Two rebels — Roi and Eron — risk everything to find and free Devin from the Nortons’ brutal regime, one built on stolen children, erased identities, and a terrifying abuse of memory itself. As Devin begins to piece together who she truly is, she must confront not only the lies she’s been fed, but the parts of herself that wanted to believe them. In a final act of rebellion, she returns to the simulation — not to escape, but to destroy it from within. What begins as a story of memory becomes one of liberation. Of choice. And of the quiet, devastating courage it takes to hear your own voice beneath the burning silence.

The dormitory entrance downstairs is completely blocked. After squeezing to the front row, a he-wolf from the physical training camp next door points and whistles at me. "Look, that's the Luminian vixen. She's famous for being a notch-collector and will do it with any Alpha." My bed is strewn with rotten meat and animal entrails. On the wall, the words "Harlot", "Floozy", and "Tart" are scrawled in bright red lipstick. Jessica Cobb, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed cheer captain, holds up her phone. "Girls, I really don't want to expose her, but she's just filthy," she says with a face filled with contempt. "She's worse than a dog in heat. On Monday, it was the little hottie with the six-pack abs in his Ferrari. "Wednesday, it was the mature Alpha who reeks of cigars and has eyes that look like they want to devour you in his Bentley. Yesterday, it was that old gentleman with the monocle who's into domination in his Rolls-Royce." She shoves the photos right in the faces of the surrounding women. "Clearly, she didn't come here to study, but to find a sugar daddy." Despite the crystal-clear pictures showing me in those cars, I can't reveal that the men with me are my obsessively controlling older brother, my hot-tempered uncle, and my great-uncle. Respectively, they are the Alpha King of Lumin, the Chief Justice, and the Chair of the Elders' Council. The surrounding male werewolves burst into laughter, their eyes roaming over my thighs. "Hey, Luminian doll, how much for one night? I'd like a taste of you too." They have no idea that these men they're fantasizing about as my sugar daddies are actually the werewolf elders they can least afford to mess with in this lifetime.

The day before the wedding, I go to the bridal shop to pick up my custom wedding dress. The clerk informs me apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ms. Stone. Yesterday, a woman called Ms. Lovelett came and picked up your dress." My best friend, Sherry Lancelot, suddenly remembers something. "Isn't that the surname of your fiance's secretary? He's so thoughtful. He had your dress picked up in advance for you." But in the next second, Mary Lovelett posts a social media update. In her photo, she is wearing my one-of-a-kind custom wedding dress that is worth hundreds of millions and posing coquettishly in front of the camera. The caption reads, "Zachary is the best boss in the world. I casually said I wanted to take some portraits. He generously bought me a globally limited outfit for a photoshoot so that I can take the photos to my heart's desire!" I look at the post and reply coldly, "That's the wedding dress I personally chose for myself. Since when did it become your photoshoot outfit?" The post is deleted instantly. My fiance, Zachary Everdon, calls me angrily. "What nonsense comment was that? I just lent your stupid dress to Mary for a bit. It's a cheap, one-time thing anyway. I can buy you a dozen more to make up for it." I let out a cold laugh and record the call. Then, I send him a screenshot of the 200 million dollars purchase record. I say, "Sure. Will you pay by check or by direct transfer? Hurry up. Once you pay, we're calling off the engagement."

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

After praying to the Virgin Mary statue 100 thousand times, my younger sister, Stephanie Harvey, and I have returned to the day we're meant to get reincarnated. In our previous lifetime, Stephanie chose to reincarnate into the womb belonging to Tiara Cromwell, the richest woman in town. As for me, I could only reincarnate into the womb of Lynette Ross, a mistress, seeing as there were too many souls queuing up for their turn. Once we were born, Stephanie was pampered and doted on by Tiara, whereas I kept getting degraded and insulted because I was the child of a mistress. "You're just a lowly bitch with a mistress as your mother! You don't even have the right to lick my shoes for me!" Unexpectedly, our shitty father worked with Lynette to take over Tiara's family business. Tiara went broke overnight and fell from grace. As for me, I transformed into a proper heiress. When Stephanie saw the photos of my grand coming-of-age party on my social media feed, she came knocking on my door and pleaded for my help. "Madison, we're half-sisters, aren't we? Please help me!" I decided to give her some money, seeing as she was my sister. But Stephanie pushed me into the pool, resulting in my drowning. Now that we've both returned to the day we get reincarnated, Stephanie quickly reincarnates into Lynette's womb. I, on the other hand, choose Tiara as my mother. Later on, Stephanie sobs as she takes her own life repeatedly just so she can get another chance to start over again.

My fiancee, Josephine Carter, tells me she is too busy with work to go home with me for Christmas just yesterday. But today, I find out that she has secretly booked a flight ticket to my hometown. I am delighted. Josephine has always been good at creating surprises during our relationship. I do not expect her to still be doing this now that we have practically been dating for years already. Just as I am about to tell my mom the good news, my stepbrother, Daniel Reed, suddenly announces in the family group chat that he is bringing his girlfriend home for Christmas as well. My relatives immediately start teasing him in the group chat, asking to see the beautiful lady. In the next second, photos of Josephine and him embracing like a couple appear in the chat. Daniel texts, "See? I told you she is gorgeous. Not only that, she's rich too." "Wow. You won the heart of such an amazing woman. That's impressive, Daniel." Daniel replies smugly, "Of course! She is totally in love with me." My breath catches in my throat, and the veins on the back of my hand bulge as I grip my phone. No wonder Josephine says she cannot come home with me after learning I am spending the New Year at my mother's place. She doesn't expect that we will run into each other. I close my eyes for a moment and send her one last message, "I have transferred back the 500 thousand dollars you asked me to manage for our wedding. It's over between us."

Everyone said I was too possessive when it came to my girlfriend, Amanda Crane. When Amanda first started taking photos of her childhood friend, Ian Lewis, I ripped apart all the rolls of film. When she helped him fix his computer, I called her 100 times in an hour. And when he called her from the airport, asking her to pick him up because the rain made it impossible to get a cab, I held a knife to my throat. I told her I'd take my own life if she went to him. Fed up, Amanda shipped me off to a psychiatric hospital that same night. When I got out, I vanished. Amanda was certain I was hiding somewhere, spying on her and Ian, but I never showed up—until the celebration party for a business project three years later. Ian put his arm around Amanda and swirled the wine glass he was holding. He shot me a taunting look, remarking, "You used to get so jealous, Steven. I'm sure you no longer mind if Mandy and I drink from the same glass now, right?" He waited for me to go berserk the way I used to three years ago, but I simply moved the bottle of wine closer to them. "I don't mind at all, of course. Have as many glasses as you want. It's great to see that your relationship has been progressing so well." Amanda paused. Her eyes started to redden. She stared fixedly at me and questioned, "Why don't you feel jealous anymore, Steven?"