Reincarnated In Dc Universe Fanfiction の小説・ストーリー

"I know, I should not cling in the past but I want to see him. Even once. Please let me say goodbye to him" These are the words that Eschia said that night. When she woke up, she was transported into the world of the novel that her best friend wrote. Wait, there's more!The novel's main characters' appearances are based on her and her boyfriend. That's not a big deal right? It's an advantage instead! However, it only applies if she reincarnated as the female lead and not the villain.

On the fourth day after our son died, I decided to end my military marriage. Before that, I spent three days taking care of what remained of him. On the first day, I tricked my wife into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to my son's school and collected the textbooks he never had the chance to use. On the third day, I prepared a table full of his favorite dishes and begged my wife to come home so we could celebrate his birthday one last time. She agreed. Then she turned around, claimed she had a mission, and spent the entire night setting off fireworks with her childhood sweetheart. That night, I sat beside my son's memorial photo and ate alone. The next day, she came home looking guilty and handed me a brand new backpack. She said it was a gift for our son to use at school. She did not know that our child would never live to see his first day of school.

My wife doesn't love me. She doesn't love our child either. On the day our son is born, she doesn't even look at him. She just drops him into my arms. Later, her first love returns. For the first time, the cold, distant woman drinks herself drunk at home. She laughs as she holds our son in her arms, and he wraps his arms around her neck in surprise. "Daddy, what's wrong with Ms. Sutton?" he whispers afterward. I kneel and hold him close. My eyes are red as I explain, "Someone Ms. Sutton loves has come back. We shouldn't bother her anymore. It's time for us to move out."

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.

Buxton Corp's CEO got his ex back. The cost? His pregnant wife vanished without a word. Month One: Calvin didn't flinch. Too busy worshiping his so-called true love. Month Two: His buddies placed bets on when Angela would come crawling home. Month Three: Panic hit. He sent scouts everywhere to find me. Nothing. Not a whisper. After that, "Angela Astor" turned into a curse word in Auremburg. But what no one saw? He missed her so bad at night, it nearly broke him.

David finds himself in another world but not before meeting the creator of the new world and the previous world. Unlike the home he, and many others, finds familiar, the new world is both hostile and does not follow the same rules. Creatures that do not and should not exist roam this new world freely. Fortunately, David is skilled and is promised companionship. Whatever that means, David will have to figure it out as he survives the land. DISCORD SERVER: https://discord.gg/Mk3Kq7h3

BOYFRIEND FOR SALE! Book yours now. Due to the overwhelming number of failed marriages and cheating partners, the present generation eventually developed a certain degree of aversion towards the notion of having a romantic partner. It was for that reason why Alpha Technology Inc. pioneered the first robot in the market that was capable of 'Love'. Now, people no longer felt any shame claiming that they bought their boyfriend online; because it was part of the fad But what would happen if one of their robots was swapped on the day of delivery? This is the story of a shopaholic queen named, Shantal, who thought that they bought a robotic boyfriend online. For all she thought, Alex was as a robot. That was why she tried her best not to fall in love with him. Little did she know that the other party was only a substitute.

After being forced to give my wife's first love my heart, I died in the hallway of the private hospital she had personally founded. My six-year-old son, Ash, had already begged her thrice by the time I had drawn my last breath. The first time was when he tugged on her hand, saying I was coughing up blood. Sneering, she claimed, "So he's finally learned something—teaching his kid how to lie." Then, she had the bodyguards throw him out of the room. The second time was when he clung to her sleeve, insisting that I rambled nonsense due to the pain. "It's just a heart transplant," she opined with a frown. "The doctor already said he won't die." At that, the bodyguards stepped in again and dragged him away. The third time was when he fell to the ground, clutching her pant leg with all his strength, crying that I had already passed out. She finally lost her temper by this point, grabbing Ash by the throat and hurling him out of the room. "I have already said it—Howard isn't going to die. Dare to disturb Skye's rest again, and I'll throw both of you out of this hospital," she warned. To save me, my son pawned the most precious thing he owned—his St. Christopher medal—to a nurse. "Ma'am," he said. "I don't need to live a long life. I just want my dad to live." She accepted the medal and was about to arrange for me to be transferred to the last available room. However, my wife's first love, Skye Whitley, had someone block the doorway with his pet dog. He mentioned, "Sorry, kid. Your mom's worried I'll get bored if I can't see my dog. This room is reserved for him."

On the fourth day after my son's death, I decided to secretly dissolve my military marriage with my husband. Before that, I had three days to settle everything for my son. On the first day, I tricked my husband into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to the school and collected the textbooks my son would never get to use. On the third day, I cooked a table full of dishes and begged my husband to celebrate our son's last birthday. He agreed, but soon after claimed he had a mission. Instead, he spent the entire night setting off fireworks with his childhood sweetheart. That night, I cooked. Then, I sat alone before my son's photo and ate all my son's favorite foods. The next day, my husband returned, guilt flickering in his eyes as he handed me a brand-new backpack. He said it was a gift for our child's first day of school. But he didn't know—our child would never have a first day of school.

Rivergate's most elite social circle had always shared an unspoken rule. Men were free to play the field as they pleased, drifting from one woman to the next. Women, on the other hand, were only allowed a single, discreet indulgence on the day they came of age—a privately hired "life assistant" meant to take care of their physical needs. … On my coming-of-age day, I picked Elliot at first glance from a hundred applicants who came in for interviews. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, looked composed and restrained, and carried himself with a calm maturity that set him apart. He was steady, meticulous, and obsessively clean. The only condition he agreed to was that there would be no bodily contact—hands only. And after every encounter, he would scrub his hands with disinfectant alcohol a hundred times. Over five years, the empty bottles alone were enough to circle the villa seven times. I used to think that one day, I'd help him overcome his barriers and truly make him mine. That illusion shattered the night I got drunk and accidentally wandered into Elliot's room. Hidden beneath his pillow was a DV camera, and inside were several videos of him pleasuring himself. On the screen, the same man who had always been calm and rational with me was staring at the lingerie of the adopted sister who had caused my mother's death, his Adam's apple bobbing as he moaned her name, "Chloe… I love you…" Only then did I realize that every step he had taken toward me had never been about me at all. It had always been a carefully concealed, long-nurtured love for her. So, it was very odd that he cried when I took my adopted sister's place in marrying someone else.