Spongebob Box Imagination Novels & Stories

When I am choosing who to be my fiancée, comments pop up before my eyes. "Skylar, do not choose Gwen Moore! She is a daddy's girl. If you marry her, her father will make your life miserable." "Choose Laura Colson. She may be an illegitimate daughter now and not valued, but she will rise to power and become the head of the Colson family!" In my previous life, I believe the comments and choose Laura. After the marriage, she abuses me. I end up in the hospital again and again. Once, I cannot endure it anymore and escape back home. Brandon Stone, the illegitimate son who marries Gwen in my place, stands beside my father and berates me openly. "Skylar, why do you always upset Laura? You are so immature! Do you not know how powerful the Colson family is now?" My father looks displeased as well. "Why do you keep coming back when you're already married? Send him back!" In the end, Laura beats me to death after I am sent back to the Colson residence. After being reborn, I see those fake comments again. This time, I will not just sit around and await my impending doom.

I never wanted to gamble, yet I could not stop myself from going to the tables. I kept losing, over and over, until I was buried under ten million in debt. After investigating the cause, I finally learned the truth–my older brother had placed me under a puppet-like control. Every loss was recorded under my name, while all the winnings went straight into his pocket. My wife was furious. She slapped me, took our son, and divorced me. I tried to explain myself again and again, but she refused to listen. "Nathan, can you stop making excuses? Did someone hold a knife to your throat? You chose to gamble." After that, my brother only grew more ruthless, raising the stakes until I lost everything overnight. With nothing left, my creditors chopped off my limbs and threw me into the sea, leaving me to drown. Even after my death, they did not spare my wife and child. She was humiliated to death, and my son was sold overseas, his whereabouts unknown. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I first lost control and went to the gambling den.

After discovering that my sworn enemy was an incubus, I threatened him. "Marty, as long as you let me touch your tail, I'll keep your secret." Marty was both ashamed and furious, but in the end, with his face burning red, he still shoved his tail into my hand. Biting his lip in reluctant humiliation, he said, "We agreed—only once a day. Not a single touch more." But later, the very man who had insisted on "only once a day" knelt on the floor, crying as he begged me to touch it again, just one more time.

After my rebirth, I signed a whole body donation consent letter. In my previous life, my boyfriend's junior was a self-proclaimed miracle worker who claimed she could cure any illness—even late-stage cancer. Every time that woman worked her magic, the same disease that she'd cured would reflect on my body. Overnight, I was diagnosed with over 300 types of diseases, and the bones in my legs were shattered. Just when I was going to talk to my boyfriend, he stormed in holding a checkup report. "You're unbelievable, Cynthia! You had AIDS and didn't tell me? Who was it? God, I can't believe I actually pitied you. You deserve every disease you have." … Yvonne took my place as a healer respected by the world of medicine. I languished and died under excruciating pain and the public's insults. Moments before my demise, her smug cackle reached my ears. "Your life for hundreds. You should be grateful I gave you this chance." Then, my eyes snapped open. And this time, I finally understood how she had done it.

I was Byron Estrada's doormat, always there to fulfill his every whim. But Byron hated me, ridiculing me at every turn. It was all because three years ago, I ran away the day before our wedding. Now, three years later, I had returned with a child—whose real father just so happened to be Byron's brother.

From the time I was little, something in me was always a little off—I never listened to the whole story, only half of it. My grandmother called me a good-for-nothing who was financially burdening the family. She bought a little boy to be my younger brother and told me to take good care of him. I understood the part about buying a child, so I immediately called the police and reported her for illegal human trafficking. My father pointed at my face and cursed me for being unfilial, accusing me of cutting off his family line. I obeyed him, crept into his room while he slept that night, and used a knife to "cut off his lineage." My father screamed in agony. In the chaos, he accidentally killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the female lead of a melodramatic abuse novel. After ten years of marriage to the cruel male lead, his childhood sweetheart had just returned from abroad and was undergoing kidney surgery. He dragged me to the hospital and cruelly ordered me to donate a kidney to his precious first love. I nodded obediently, went out and bought a pig, and on the spot dug out the pig's kidney and handed it to him.

When I was at my absolute poorest, I got sucked into some kind of survival game. The challenge was to survive 7 days on just 50 dollars, and the winner would walk away with a million dollars. As someone who might as well be certified as a professional at being broke, I knew exactly how to survive on next to nothing. That prize money had my name written all over it.

Thanks to my addiction to the stories regarding true and fake heiresses, I'm afflicted with strong paranoia that everyone is out there to get me. For some reason, I keep thinking that I'm a fake heiress who will eventually get kicked out of my home. In order to avoid getting set up, I stay on my guard every day. Not only do I hire some people to act as the actual heiresses and visit my home from time to time, but I also have them put on performances with me while clutching paternity test reports and heirloom pendants as props. On the day I'm done rehearsing all of the webnovel tropes, a pure and innocent young woman comes knocking on the door. Interestingly enough, she has live comments surrounding her. As she shows the pendant and a paternity test report, she starts crying sadly. "Mom, Dad, I'm your actual daughter!" The live comments begin spamming relentlessly. "I'm tired of looking at pure and innocent female leads! A manipulative true heiress, on the other hand, is a breath of fresh air! Not only does she intend to regain everything that belongs to her, but she also vows to teach the fake heiress a lesson she will never forget!" "Just look at how amazing her acting and her expression are! Her parents will definitely fall for her excuse, hook, line, and sinker!" Amid the live comments' cheering, my parents just nod thoughtfully. "The actress who's playing this role today is quite talented."

I was the real heiress who had just been found and brought home. After I returned to my family, my parents did not favor the fake heiress like the rumors claimed. Instead, they put me first in everything. I quickly integrated into this social circle, and even the fake heiress' childhood friend, Drake Weston, showed interest in me. On the day my father asked me to choose a marriage partner, I was walking toward Drake when pop-up messages suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Don't choose him. He's always loved the fake heiress. He's only getting close to you to seize the family assets in your hands. If you choose him, you're as good as dead. He'd risk his life for the fake heiress, and she's been trying to kill you all along.] I stopped and turned toward the Lockwood family's illegitimate son, Callum Lockwood. Another pop-up message appeared before my eyes. [Choose him. He's kind-hearted and family-oriented, and he's secretly in love with you. You won't go wrong choosing him.] In my previous life, I was misled by the pop-up messages and chose Callum, who seemed harmless. It turned out he was the one who loved the fake heiress. Less than a year after our marriage, they plotted together and killed me. Only after I died did I learn the fake heiress had manipulated all those pop-up messages. She even killed my parents and inherited all my family's assets. This time, I chose Drake without hesitation. The fake heiress and Callum completely lost their composure.

At my wedding to my childhood friend, Mason Rivers, a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. [LMAO, supporting character still doesn’t know the groom is a stand-in! The real male lead, Mason Rivers, is at the hospital with the fragile, sweet female!] [It doesn’t matter who the groom is. He only agreed to the marriage to keep his company afloat. This story is about the childhood sweetheart losing to the girl who came later.] [In the end, the supporting character gets completely ruined by the male lead. I almost feel bad for her.] I hid the shock in my eyes and pretended not to know anything as I finished the ceremony. I didn’t want to be the stepping stone for their love, the disposable extra who dies a tragic death. If he didn’t want to marry me, then I’d turn this act into something real and marry someone else instead.