Romans & histoires Lirik Lagu Pure Imagination

It was on our wedding night when my husband stole my heartblood to save his childhood sweetheart. His lips were on my forehead as his dagger carved my chest open. "Good girl. This is the last time, I promise," he breathed bewitchingly, his scalding tears dripping on my skin. "Once she's better, let's consummate our marriage." That was what he said, but I had heard it countless times before. In my despair, I used my last ounce of strength to tug on his sleeve. He urgently drained my blood to save another woman, not even looking my way as he did. What he didn't know was that it was my last drop of heartblood. And I was going to die.

During a zombie-extermination mission, I end up getting infected with the zombie virus for the sake of protecting my squad. But Emilia Campbell, the team captain as well as my girlfriend, decides to give the only antidote to another team member, who has secretly run away from the squad, only to get infected. Her excuse is that she should avoid being partial. With red-rimmed eyes, she promises me, "Trust me, Zack. I'll definitely find another antidote for you during the three-day incubation period of the virus." I can only nod in response while enduring the scorching pain flaring from my body. On the second day, Emilia actually returns with an antidote. But the second she's about to inject it into my bloodstream, Dustin Nott, a member who has never left the campsite, suddenly frowns. "My head hurts so much, Em… What if I'm already infected with the virus?" Emilia doesn't hesitate to pass the antidote to Dustin in front of everyone else. "Dustin is a part of the team as well. It's my fault as the captain for not taking care of the squad if anything happens to him. "Zack, you're the vice leader as well as my boyfriend. I must be impartial." That's when I notice the smugness crossing Dustin's eyes as well as Emilia's righteous expression. Fury bubbles within me at that moment. She must be impartial, huh? Fine. Emilia will soon understand that the squad would never have survived to this point without me. After all, I'm a perfect evolved specimen—a human being that only has a 0.1% chance of overcoming the zombie virus and evolving into a powerhouse in this apocalypse.

I woke up and found myself transmigrated into my nemesis' doll. At first, I thought he was still a child at heart for keeping this. Then, I realized he was just unhinged. The doll's face looked just like mine. And then the bigger surprise was that he was a beastfolk. Every night, he would torture me with his literal serpent tail. I eventually told him I knew what he was. He imprisoned me on the bed and smiled at me gently. What came next were cruel words. "Since you already know, I'll drop the mask now. Tell me, do you want to use those toys or my tail?"

At my wedding with my childhood sweetheart, Zoe Sutherland, I see live comments in front of my eyes all of a sudden. "This is so funny! The male supporting lead doesn't even know that the bride is a fake one! The actual female lead, Zoe, is actually keeping the male lead company in the hospital!" "It doesn't matter who the bride is! The female lead just wants to get married for the sake of her company's funds! After all, this story is about childhood sweetheart losing to the true love who's come out of nowhere!" "The female lead will end up screwing the male supporting lead's life over. Jeez, now I feel a little bad for him." Concealing the shock in my eyes, I go through the rest of the wedding while pretending to be kept in the dark about the truth. I don't want to become the stepping stone that will tie the two main leads together as the cannon fodder who dies a horrible death. Since Zoe doesn't want to marry me at all, I might as well marry the fake bride for real.

On the day I received my prenatal test results, I heard a voice from inside my belly—my unborn child speaking to me. 'Mom, Dad will divorce you as soon as you give birth to me. His true love can't have children. That's why he married you. You're just a tool to give birth. Once I'm born, he'll divorce you, take me away, and go live happily ever after with her.' I believed every word. Without hesitation, I chose divorce. For nine months, I focused on carrying the pregnancy, planning to raise the child on my own. But on the day I went into labor, something went terribly wrong. The doctor said the baby was premature, and the position was dangerously abnormal. "The baby keeps flipping around inside you," she said. "It's like it's deliberately putting you through hell." Eight hours of emergency treatment accomplished nothing. In the end, it was a difficult labor—both mother and child died. As my consciousness faded, I heard that voice again. 'Haha. Dad never cheated at all. I lied to you.' Why would a child lie? I couldn't understand it, not even at the moment of death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I first received the prenatal test report.

Ever since I was born, my parents bound me to a Pain Transfer System. My body was covered in scars. My older brother, Dylan Jeater, had albinism and Hydroa Vacciniforme. His condition was so severe that he could not be exposed to any light. Doctors determined that he would only live to be sixteen years old. However, Dylan had always been playful. He often snuck outside. Eventually, his body was covered in sores. My father, Robert Jeater, worked day and night to earn money. He finally bought two Pain Transfer System wristbands at a high price for Dylan and me. For six years, the pain Dylan felt from every sun exposure had been transferred to me. My mother, May Jeater, always held me gently and treated my wounds. She said, “Chester, I’m sorry. I just want Dylan to be happy in the time he has left. I hope you understand.” On New Year’s Eve, my parents took Dylan out. It was very sunny that day. As soon as we left the house, my whole body broke out in blisters. I could not help but cry out in pain. Dylan tore off his wristband and broke down sobbing. “Does it hurt? Fine, if you think it hurts so much, then turn off the transfer! Let me just die of the pain! “I’ll only live up to sixteen anyway. I’m going to die sooner or later.” His body became severely sunburned, and he lost consciousness. Mom shoved me to the ground. “Dylan never complained once in all those years of pain! After only six years of it being passed to you, you’re already breaking down?! “He’s only going to live to be sixteen! Is it wrong to want him to be happy in his last few years?” Dad picked up Dylan. “I don’t want you getting hurt either, but the pain can only be transferred between biological brothers.” They then rushed him to the hospital. I picked up the wristband from the ground. A message popped up on the screen. [Do you want to transfer your remaining lifespan to the linked user?] Without any hesitation, I pressed confirm.

My sister and I were promised in marriage by our father, Eses, the God of Skies. She was to wed Dexaldir, the Keeper of Fate, the one who recorded the destinies of gods and mortals. I was to wed Guerrian, the God of War. But on the day of our wedding, their beloved woman, Seraphine, leapt from the Starfall Spire, the ancient tower where even immortals would die if they fell. After that, the four of us lived together in harmony. We were praised as the most devoted divine couples in the Celestial Skies. A hundred years later, during the war between the Celestial Skies and the Phlegethon Legion, Guerrian and Dexaldir betrayed us. They lured us into a trap and handed us over to the Phlegethon Demons. My husband, Guerrian, smirked at me. "Seraphine, it must have hurt when you fell from the Starfall Spire. I have finally avenged you today!" Next to him, Dexaldir held up an emerald pendant that was given to him by Seraphine. He murmured affectionately, "Seraphine, this day has finally come. They will pay the price! Wait for me. I'll soon find you a way to regain your body." Only then did my sister and I understand. They believed that we forced Seraphine to jump. The Phlegethon Demons kept us alive for 16 days. 16 days of torture. They tore the divine core from my sister's chest, destroying both her body and soul. As for me, due to my innate beauty, I was humiliated to death by the demon leader. When I opened my eyes once more, we were back to the day when our father promised us our marriages. I turned my head and saw my sister looking back at me. I knew she had been reborn too. We both smiled. Before our father could finish speaking, I stepped forward and interrupted him, "Father, I have a different idea."

My computer suddenly froze. The next second, my sister, Josie Bennett, appeared on the screen, covered in blood. Her face was white with terror as she screamed, “Nina, help me!” I looked at the pack of entities behind her, and my heart lurched. How had she gotten into a horror game? And an S-rank instance, no less. I had no time to think. I teleported in immediately. The moment I arrived, I saw a girl stomping on Josie, yanking her hair as she looked down at her with smug contempt. “You little brat. Still trying to call for help? Do you even know whose turf this is? Once you cross me, nobody can save you.” The players beside her quickly chimed in. “Exactly. Winnie is the woman of the top guy in this game. If you want to make it out alive, you’d better learn your place.” I stopped in my tracks, stunned. The top guy’s woman? Wasn’t I the final boss of this horror game?

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband came home with a woman who was six months pregnant. He introduced her as his cousin, someone who had fallen on hard times, and asked me to take care of her. I was just about to agree when fragments of imaginary commentary floated through my mind: [She's just my 'cousin'. Uh-uh, that's a cliche.] [Poor supporting female character! A maid by day, the husband's bedwarmer by night.] [But she totally deserved it! If she hadn't broken up the main couple, they'd have a whole soccer team of kids by now!] Wait—what? Supporting female character? Me? And what's this about breaking them up? So now these two get to cheat under my roof, and somehow I'm the villain? Before I could process it all, my husband was already dragging her luggage inside. "Alice doesn't like fried food," he said matter-of-factly. "And nothing too salty or spicy. Make sure you keep that in mind when you're cooking. "Oh, and pregnant women love sweets. Go out now and buy a cherry cake. The one from that bakery in the suburbs."

For a decade, my world had been measured in laundry cycles, grocery lists, and the ever-growing pile of dishes in the sink. I was elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing the remnants of another family meal, when it happened. A sudden, silent cascade of text flickered at the edge of my vision, like subtitles for a movie only I could see: [Gosh, the heroine is so tragic. Her husband's entire family has been feeding on her luck like parasites!] [Her husband stole her graduate school admission and her career!] [The in-laws are literally siphoning her health away. No wonder she's always sick.] [And the sister-in-law took her "romance" stat! No wonder her love life is a desert.] [Heads up! Her husband's about to give her another "gift." Let's see how much more he takes from her this time.] My hands, clutching a greasy plate, froze. Right on cue, my husband, Tristan, sauntered into the kitchen. A smug, self-satisfied smile was plastered on his face as he took my wet hand. He slid a flimsy, garishly colored plastic bracelet onto my wrist. "Look what I got for you, sweetheart," he announced, his voice dripping with pride. "I made a special trip after work. Found it at the dollar store. It's romantic and economical, just like you always say you want. You love it, don't you?"