Spongebob Memes Imagination Novels & Stories

After failing to conquer Quinn Langley 99 times in a row, I finally give up on my quest. When Quinn insists on going on a vacation with the female lead, Melody Frost, during our fifth wedding anniversary, I grant his wish. When he wants to give Melody a proper title, I file for a divorce from him immediately. Even when Quinn wants to give the newborn that I've risked my life delivering to this world to Melody, I just nod and let him take the baby away. Upon noticing the pallor in my cheeks, Quinn goes down on one knee next to me and starts coaxing me softly. "Melody is afflicted with a terminal disease, and she's infertile too. Her biggest wish in this lifetime is to form a family with me. "Don't worry. Once she's passed away, I'll remarry you immediately. This time, we'll spend the rest of our lives as a family." What he doesn't know is that we no longer have a future together. I've already given up on the conquest mission, after all. In three days, I'll get eradicated by the system and leave this world for good.

After the human race loses the war, the beastfolk rule over the human lands. As crown princess, my sister Amber Whitaker is born beautiful and is handed over to the Beast King, Theron Olson, as his concubine. Compared to her, I'm plain, so they send me to the breeding quarters, where beastmen fight over me and use me like a breeding machine. However, Amber doesn't fare well either. She's too gentle for palace schemes. Before long, the other women frame her, and she dies. As for me, pregnancy after pregnancy wears my body down until it's too weak to go on, and I die filled with hatred. Then, everything blurs. When Amber and I open our eyes, we stare at each other in shock and realize we're back on the very day the human race falls. This time, I hold her hand tightly and say firmly, "Let me serve the Beast King instead!" On the night, Theron takes me to his bed. "You look so slim, yet you're surprisingly full. Are you afraid?" With that, he strips away my clothes and casts off his own. One glance makes my breath hitch. I've seen beastmen's packages before, but I never expected Theron to have two!

I was the greediest stand-in in high society, and my motto was simple. As long as cash kept coming, my dignity could take a back seat. For Frederick Jameson, I played the role of his obedient pet, so when his true love accused me of stealing her necklace, I just bowed and apologized. With Samuel York, I served as his lab rat, testing drugs meant for his sweetheart's condition until they left me with a bleeding ulcer. And for Theodore Xander, I acted as a scapegoat, getting pushed out to take the blame of extortion for his crush. They all assumed I was hopelessly in love with them, even forcing me to sign a confession at their joint engagement party. That was when the system's voice chimed in, "Host, the portal home is now open." I wiped the blood from my lips, splashed my wine into their faces, and grinned brightly. "Game over, losers!" Right in front of everyone, I leaped straight into the sea. Later, word spread that the three big shots scoured the entire ocean just to find my body.

This is the seventh year of my arranged marriage to Frank Jackson, yet he is constantly seeing other women. Because of that, I become known in our circle as the ever-tolerant wife. Everyone is watching and waiting to see when a mistress will finally replace me. But when I unexpectedly get pregnant, I hear a furious voice screaming at me from my belly in my mind. "Mommy, are you some holy saint? In your past life, you kept tolerating everything. That was exactly why my scumbag dad's mistress drove you out and left you for dead on the streets! "That vile woman is practically trampling all over you. How can you not fight back? Slap her! While you're at it, give my fool of a dad a good slap, too! The more you tolerate, the more people push their luck. You need to stand up for yourself and divorce that scumbag!" I swallow nervously, but my hand is already itching to act. Maybe I should try doing what the baby says...

On the day I was diagnosed with uremia, my husband asked me to donate a kidney to his one true love. I turned him down, claiming I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t expect him, my own husband, who was a doctor, to drag me to trial. The charge? Ingratitude. If found guilty, I would be executed on the spot, my kidney forcibly harvested, my soul condemned for eternity. But if the charges were dismissed, my husband would face immediate execution. His love would fall into ruin, plagued by illness and poverty. Everyone pressured me to confess. After all, when I nearly died in a car crash years ago, it was her blood transfusion that had pulled me back from the brink of death. But what they didn’t know was… I had been reborn. In my past life, I died never knowing my husband and his lover had orchestrated the car crash that nearly killed me. Now that I had returned, I would tear off their masks and expose their malice for all to see.

My boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart had bound a transfer system to me, causing the cool air around me to automatically converge on her. From then on, her family no longer had to pay for air conditioning. They even made a fortune by selling the cool air at a low price, thanks to this supernatural arrangement. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he was lying in his childhood sweetheart’s arms while eating an ice pop. He looked at me as if I were an idiot. “Your family is so poor that you can’t even afford to run the AC. Instead of looking at yourself, you came up with such a ridiculous excuse.” Later, I installed three air conditioners at home, but it did not help at all. In the end, I literally baked to death in an air-conditioned room at 60 degrees Fahrenheit. By the time I was discovered, I had turned into a dried corpse. Even after my death, my boyfriend still tried to profit off my misfortune. He became an internet sensation as the “first person to discover a dried corpse in an air-conditioned room.” He went on to live the life of a rich influencer with his little sweetheart. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day his little sweetheart had bound the transfer system to me. Knowing the future ahead, I immediately booked a reservation at the nearest sauna to escape the heat!

On the first day that my parents' biological daughter, Lilith Ashbourne, comes home, everyone praises her refined temperament. They say even her body exudes a pleasant fragrance. I was born with the ability to see both the living and the dead. So, only I know that it's actually the stench of a corpse at its worst. In my previous life, I tried my best to persuade my parents and my childhood friends not to bring her home. However, they were convinced that I was jealous. They said that I was petty and intolerant. Left with no other choice, I kept warning them and trying my best to drive her away again and again. After the last time I chased Lilith out, she ran out crying. She accidentally fell into the water and couldn't be found again. They blamed everything on me and forced my head into a toilet, drowning me alive. When I open my eyes again, I choose to stay silent. After all, one can't save people who are determined to die.

After I started working at the zoo, I was added to a group chat called “A Hundred Ways to Kill a Human.” Every member had an animal as their profile picture. At first, I thought it was some quirky staff group. I even found it kind of cute. That was, until I realized they were discussing how to eat me. Pedro the Parrot: [The new human has beautiful eyes. I can’t wait till Christmas. I want to peck them out right now!] George the Gorilla: [Relax. There’ll be many visitors during Christmas. We’ll have more eyeballs than we can eat! Also, I’m calling dibs on her thigh.] Thor the Tiger: [Nobody’s taking her head, right? That’s mine.] Tucker the Elephant: [I’m a vegetarian, but I can crush her bones to dust.]

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

Every time my husband's newly hired assistant underwent another cosmetic procedure, a new wrinkle appeared on my face. Leaning on her increasingly refined beauty, she rose effortlessly through high society, earning praise as an "ageless goddess." Meanwhile, I—the rightful lady of a wealthy household—aged so rapidly that in just three months, I looked like her mother. Clutching her cosmetic treatment bills in one hand and my medical report in the other, I confronted my husband. Instead, he shoved me to the ground, his eyes cold as ice. "Have you lost your mind?" he snapped. "You failed to take care of yourself, and now you're jealous of a subordinate who works harder and strives more than you?" Later, in order to secure a partnership with Sauldi Group, she agreed to their proposal for a "rejuvenation" experiment, undergoing a full-body stem cell anti-aging procedure. At home, my organs began to fail one after another. By the time anyone noticed, I was already dead. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the afternoon when she first flaunted her plans—boasting about getting her very first skin-boosting injection.