Quandale Dingle Original Photo

One moment I'm chasing after a rabbit and the next, I'm falling down a rabbit hole! What the heck?! This ain't Alice in Wonderland?! Though as I opened my eyes, I soon found out that I was no longer in my original body and that somehow I transmigrated into the light novel, A Fairytale Romance. And that isn't all, the character whose body I transmigrated into... is none other than the canon-fodder, stuck-up, arrogant, and selfish ojou-sama who was nothing more than a comic relief character, Maria Rosendrey. Life truly sucks...

Lately, buying succubi and incubi online had become all the rage. I could not afford one, so I picked one up from the side of the road instead. It turned out the quality of this incubus left a lot to be desired. Not only did he have a terrible temper, but he showed absolutely no interest in me. He would rather starve than "feed". Left with no other options, I snapped a photo of his incubus mark and sent it to the shop owner, asking how to handle this particular model. The shop owner completely lost it. "Oh my god, please tell me you're joking! That's not an incubus! That's a demon! The most dangerous kind!"

Kedekatannya dengan mantan kekasih yang telah beristri, membuat Tiffany terjerumus ke dalam skandal yang membuat nama baiknya sebagai seorang pengusaha sekaligus figur publik tercoreng. Namun, hal itu tidak lantas membuatnya lepas dari jeratan cinta sang mantan kekasih, bahkan dua mantan kekasih sekaligus. Pada waktu yang bersamaan dengan terjadinya skandal itu, cinta pertama Tiffany kembali muncul di kehidupannya. Kehadirannya membuat Tiffany kian terjatuh ke dalam dilema percintaan yang makin rumit. Desain cover by Amaya Ratisani Photo from Pexels (Hải Nguyễn)

The afternoon my critical condition notice was issued, Silas Stenson popped a bottle of champagne in the lab. On social media, a photo showed him and Wynter Keller standing side by side in the golden sunset, their white coats bathed in light. The caption read only one line—'Ten years—it finally worked.' Everyone said he was devoted, that he'd spent ten sleepless years trying to save me. When the nurse, her eyes red, showed it to me on her phone, I was staring at the wavering lines on the monitor. No one knew that the drug had already been perfected a year ago. And I was the only candidate who wasn't allowed to receive it.

In those eight terrifying seconds when the plane dropped into darkness, my first thought was how devastated Lucas would be if I never made it to the airport. However, after surviving and landing safely, what greeted me instead…was a photo he shared with his childhood sweetheart, the two of them smiling on a hike. The caption read: [Here's to still being wild with you at sixty.] If it had been before, I probably would have blown up his phone, demanding an explanation and picking a fight. However, then, after brushing so close to death, I just felt… tired.. So I typed out a message: [Let's get a divorce.]

I dumped Orion Gray when he was at his poorest. I even aborted the child we had together. In the blink of an eye, I got together with a rich man. After that, Orion went abroad in anger and sadness. Within two short years, he turned into the CEO of a publicly listed company. When he came back to the country, he swore that he would exact his revenge on me. However, my mother sent a disfigured corpse to his house and asked him to restore it to its original state. He did not know that it was the corpse of the person he hated the most—me.

It's the tenth anniversary of my bonding with my warrior mate, Owen Chase, and also our son Leo's birthday. A month earlier, I spent $8000 arranging a trip to the Blood Moon Forest. I plan to take my mate and pup to the Moon Goddess' sacred grounds to receive her blessings. This is supposed to be a happy anniversary celebration for our complete werewolf family. I've prepared everything and booked tickets for the Twilight Coach. But on the night before our departure, Owen and Leo suddenly block our mind-link. "Dad and I are having dinner with Ms. Emma on the 24th floor of Moonlight Restaurant. We've cancelled the tickets—we're not going." The call ends there. They promptly block my number as well. I rush back to our pack overnight, only to find that the security system no longer recognizes me. That night, every household locks its doors and activates protective barriers against the toxic mist of the Silver Mines in the nearby Moonveil Valley, while I could only huddle on the stone steps outside our house, inhaling the silver-laden fog all night. The poisonous substances flood my systems. I am sent to the hospital, burning with fever as my wolf grows weaker with every labored breath. Meanwhile, my family is busy touring Central City with Emma Skinner, spending the money I had worked so hard to earn. Owen posts a photo on his social media. In the photo, Emma, my mate Owen, and my child Leo stand hand-in-hand in front of the wishing fountain in Central City, all smiling brightly. The caption reads: "A perfect trip, a perfect family of three." It is only then that I finally understand—this family exists in name only. It's time for me to rebuild my life.

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.

Zackary and I had been married for seven years and finally had our first child. But seeing the pregnancy result, he suspected that the child was not his. Out of anger, I went to do a paternity test with him. On the day the result came out, Zackary, who was supposed to be in the hospital, appeared at my door. He was holding a photo. The photo showed that my underwear was at his friend's house. He kicked me so hard that I lost my baby. He shouted, "You bitch, you dare to cheat on me. I won't raise another man's child, you know. Go to hell!" Later he knew the truth and begged my dead child to come back.

My flower stall that's stationed outside the university entrance gets thrashed by the hooligans hired by my husband, Anthony Rivera. So, I show up at Sienna Wright, the low-income student's graduation ceremony with a bouquet of roses. Anthony, who's a university professor, is in the middle of turning Sienna's tassel for her. When they are taking a photo together with smiles on their faces, I turn on my megaphone right away. "My husband longs to have two wives. One is the student he's sleeping with. To celebrate their affair, all roses are now 3 dollars each." Everyone just stares at Anthony, clearly dumbfounded. Meanwhile, Anthony, who prides himself on being cool and composed, finds himself panicking once again.