That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime Doujinshi

Lena Clermont fell hard for her dad's friend, Andrew Rohan—twelve years older. The first time she saw him, he was all sharp suits and broad shoulders, effortlessly standing out. He smiled, patted her head, and handed her a princess dress. Fast forward to twenty. He got drugged at a banquet. She wore that same dress, offering herself as the cure.

Audrey Lyons had always loved Duncan Millington with unwavering devotion. She poured her heart and soul into their relationship, yet she could not get a single "I love you" from him in return. Initially, Duncan believed he would finally find peace and happiness after Audrey left. However, the stillness of night brought dreams that haunted him. In these dreams, Audrey gazed at him with tender affection and said, "Duncan, meeting you in this lifetime has filled me with such joy and contentment. In my next life, and the one after that, I want to find you again in the cafés of Paris or the streets of New York, and fall in love with you all over again."

What did we do when we were stuck inside during COVID? Some learned new skills, like making sourdough bread or crafting. Some caught up on their Netflix watching, learning all about the Tiger King. And some learned way more about themselves than they would have if the world hadn’t stopped. Samantha and Ashton finally gave in to the love and passion that had been eating them up alive, but they never acted on because Ashton is Samantha’s brother’s best friend. Cole comes to terms with his sexuality with the help of his gay roommate, Kent. Alexis gets stuck overseas with her boss and learns exactly how domineering Jonathan Wilson can be. And couple Jaime and Jorge work to get their roommate Andie out of her shell.

I was never a novel person. Honestly? I couldn’t care less about them. That is, until “Three Hearts, One Love”... the reverse harem novel that took over the world… shoved itself into my life. Everywhere I turned: malls, newsfeeds, radios, TVs… Even the old lady at the bus stop was raving about it. Out of pure annoyance… and a little curiosity… I bought a copy, planning to skim it just enough to say it was overrated. Big mistake. Huge. One minute I was rolling my eyes at the melodrama, the next I woke up inside the story — not as the beloved heroine, of course. No, fate made me Luna Graves: the pathetic and miserable, jealous best friend doomed to crash and burn spectacularly by the end of the novel. With no way out, I figured I'd play my part, die dramatically, and call it a day. But then something weird happened. Scenes shifted. Strangers walked onto the page. And the swoon-worthy male leads? They stopped chasing the heroine... and started chasing me. Me. The villain. This wasn’t in the script... and I was definitely not ready.

I spent five years chasing Tyler Watson, only to get kidnapped right in front of him. He just stood there and watched. As a result, I suffered. After I escaped, he acted all high and mighty and proposed to make up for his tiny bit of guilt. The second we got our marriage certificate, the Simp System’s voice rang in my head. “Congrats, host! You’ve completed your mission.” Just like that, my sanity finally returned. While Tyler waited in a hotel for me to bring him contraceptives, I went live to expose his cheating. For good measure, I even called the anti-vice office to report my dear husband for soliciting prostitutes.

He fell hard for her but she fell harder. Homeless, heartbroken and rejected by her own family, Claire Jones, the ignored and hated daughter of a rich man never imagined that her life would change forever when she met her ray of light in the darkness of midnight,  Tristan Pierce.   “You have this chance to get back what you have lost, Miss Jones. You have my words.” Tristan said to Claire. She stared at him for a moment, he looked serious. “And why do you want to help me, Mr. Pierce? What will you achieve?” She couldn’t help but asked him with narrowing gaze. “I am not helping you in free, Miss Jones. I want a woman to as my son’s mother. He never asks for anything and this is the first time he wished for something and I can’t deny my only child's wish.” He said. “What do you mean, Mr. Pierce?” Her voice wavered as she anticipated his next words. “Marry me, Miss Jones.”

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.

"He was everything I swore never to get close to. He was toxic, possessive, selfish. Without me even realising it. He was older than me. It was wrong. He was wrapped in darkness and mystery. He was sinisterly hot and rich to an extent I couldn't imagine. He made sure to become everything I have. He was anything but the one for me, yet he made me his. He made me fall for him. He got under my skin, penetrated my soul, shattered my heart. And I naively obeyed his will. He made me his but he never was mine. He was the devil himself and I'll burn in hell for ever loving him."

When I turned eighteen, I completed my shift and finally gained my wolf. The Lycan King of the Northern Tribe—Karl Gilmore, my father's close friend—handed me photos of his sons and told me to choose a mate. Whomever I chose would become the next Lycan King. Without hesitation, I pointed to his eldest son, Sven Gilmore. Everyone was stunned because everyone knew, for years, I had always loved the third son, Erik Gilmore. I'd trailed after Erik like a shadow, declaring loudly to the whole world that I'd marry him someday, that I'd be his mate. In my previous life, I did marry Erik. And he did become the next Lycan King. But a year into our marriage, he betrayed me with my stepsister and got her pregnant. Furious, the old Lycan King forced her to abort the pup and exiled her to another pack. From that moment on, Erik despised me. He started bringing home a different mistress every night. I was furious, helpless, and eventually, I died in the dead of winter. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I'd be back at eighteen, standing at the very moment I was meant to choose my mate. This time, I won't choose Erik. This time, I'll step aside and let him have his love with my sister. But why did Erik break down in tears when I chose someone else, begging me to come back?