Todoroki Crying Novels & Stories

For ten years, I was a peace offering to Alpha Kane. And he chose his adopted sister, Fiona, over me 77 times. He planned my birthday around her tastes. At the Hunter’s Moon festival, she stood beside him in the Luna’s ceremonial gown. My gown. Even on our mating night, he left me. Fiona faked a panic attack, claiming her wolf was losing control. He spent the night coddling her. I forgave him the first 76 times. Because he’d saved my life once, even if he didn’t remember. But when I was kidnapped, he had to choose: trade the pack's sacred artifact for my life, or stay with Fiona and her latest self-made drama. He chose her. The kidnappers injected me with a lethal dose of wolfsbane. I felt it tearing my wolf apart, devouring my life force from the inside out. The 77th time. I was finally ready to give up. But I was saved. By Drake, Alpha of the Nightfall Pack. The one who'd been watching over me for fifteen years.. That’s when I learned the truth. I’d been thanking the wrong man. The one who saved me was always Drake. Never Kane. So I went back. I filed to sever our mate bond with the Elders. In four days, I'll be free. And Kane can be with his precious Fiona forever. So why, now that it’s all over, is he on his knees, begging for me back and crying that he always loved me?

Sophia was forced to marry a man she never loved just to stop her father from going to jail. The marriage however turned out to be a living hell after she discovered a painful truth that destroyed her. Sophia usually gets home late from work every day with expensive gifts, looking so flashy. She starts getting cold with Shawn, disrespecting him as though he never meant anything to her. He reported Sophia to Joana, her cousin, but she denied her involvement. Sophia kept her secret affair with Mathew away from everyone. Shawn stopped worrying about her mischief and decided to carry out his investigation on her. On her way to work, he trailed her movement and found Sophia heading to a different route. He was confused and kept trialing and behold, her cab alighted in front of a big mansion. Shawn was devastated and knew his girlfriend was cheating on him. He took a photo of her for evidence and returned home, disclosing it to Joana, her cousin. Hard for her to believe, they waited for Sophia to return. As usual, she returned very late. Shawn confronted her and accused her of cheating, but she denied it until he showed her the evidence. She was stunned! She had no idea Shawn trailed her. Frustrated by her act, Shawn beats Sophia to a pulp and throws her out of his house. Now his father's words were starting to get to him. He regretted not listening to his father. Sophia left his apartment in pain and went crying in Matthew's arms.

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

I took my newborn son to my husband’s mafia compound for his christening. His ten-year-old niece, Bianca—the Family’s spoiled little princess—pushed my baby’s stroller straight into the deep end of the freezing pool. My son sank to the bottom. The clinking of champagne glasses drowned out his final struggles. I dove in like a madwoman. But I only pulled out a cold, lifeless body. Because Bianca was "Family blood," the murder was ruled a tragic accident. My father-in-law, the Don, handed me a limitless black card as "compensation." But I didn't want money. I wanted my son. I wanted my Nico! I dropped to my knees. I begged my husband, Matteo, to avenge our baby. Instead, he just held his crying niece and looked at me with dead eyes. "Mandy, she’s just a child. Are you going to destroy one life over a mistake?" Denied my vengeance, I wasted away in our penthouse that long winter, dying a broken woman. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the christening. My husband’s arm was wrapped around my waist. His hot kisses trailed down my neck. "Our boy will be blessed by the priest today." I shoved him away instantly. I called my personal guards. I had them rush my son safely to my family's estate. But later that day, a tiny body still floated in the pool.

“Unfortunately, you must die, Luna Lyara,” Alpha Kaelen whispered. It wasn't enough that I had to endure the curse to replace him, and his decision to turn his face away from me for another woman, he still betrayed me until the end. He stabbed me with his own hands and pushed me off the cliff. When I thought everything was over, time spun back and brought me back to the past, exactly three weeks after I was cursed.  This time, I won’t be the victim. I’ll free myself from the curse, reverse fate, and protect the people I love. I won’t be dragged along by the predetermined path set by that scoundrel Kaelen. I’m determined to write my own destiny with my own hands! *** “…Lyara.”  I didn’t know what he was saying. I could only catch one word, my name, which he whispered softly.  Ah, there’s still someone who cares about me like this. With trembling hands, I tried to reach his face. The sticky sensation flooding his cheeks, I knew it. He was crying. Was he crying because of me? “Don’t… cry…” I said, my words breaking off.   The pain and tingling in my throat brought back the painful cough. My right hand fell onto his chest. Unintentionally, my fingers touched the pendant necklace around his neck. A unique and beautiful sun-shaped pendant.  “Thank you,” I said with a bitter smile.

For ten long years, Ravelle Celeste Branson kept her identity as the sole heiress of Branson Group tightly hidden for the sake of an illusion of genuine love from Kyle Stevens. But on the night of their 10th wedding anniversary, that illusion shattered into pieces. Ravelle caught Kyle passionately making out with his secretary in the CEO's office. That betrayal was merely the tip of the iceberg. The true blow of reality struck when the Civil Registry Office revealed a cruel fact: in the eyes of the law, Ravelle had been secretly removed and divorced eight years earlier through the manipulation of a stack of documents she had blindly signed. Returning home with a heart as cold as ice, a secret safe uncovered an even more disgusting conspiracy. The little girl she had raised with all her heart and soul was not an adopted child, but the biological daughter of Kyle and his mistress. Even worse, Ravelle's body had been poisoned with microdoses of heavy metals for years—a vicious scheme designed to render her infertile and slowly kill her. They thought Ravelle was a weak woman with no one to protect her, someone who could be discarded after being drained of everything she had. They were terribly mistaken. With Erlan El Salvador Jhins, the genius CEO who was ready to level Manhattan to protect her, standing by her side, the crown heiress rose from her emotional death. Ravelle returned to reclaim her throne, crush Stevens Group into the ruins of bankruptcy, and send the traitors to the deepest hell. When Kyle finally fell to his knees at her feet, crying tears of blood and begging for forgiveness, Ravelle merely looked at him with the coldest smile. "I'm sorry, my ex-husband. Your regret came too late."

Three years into my fake death, my wife and daughter showed up at my door. To get rid of them, I grabbed a knife and threatened to end my life. Then my seven-year-old daughter put her hand on my father's ventilator. Claire Harrison stood beside her, her voice trembling as she delivered her ultimatum. "Wesley, either you see your father suffocate to death, or you come back and be my husband again. Your choice." I was shaking with rage, but I put down the knife and remarried her. Walking back into that familiar villa, I became the Harrison family's model "devoted husband and father." When my foster brother needed her company because he was feeling down, I cleared out and booked myself a hotel. I ended up with a perforated ulcer, went into surgery, and never once called her. When my daughter got picky and said she only wanted her uncle's cooking, I went straight to Dylan's place and brought him back to live with us. Even on my birthday, when Dylan suddenly started crying and said, "I'm so jealous of you, Wesley. You've got such a wonderful wife and kid. Me? I've never even gotten a decent birthday present," I didn't hesitate—I slid the onyx bead bracelet off my wrist and pressed it into his hand. The deep black beads gleamed against his pale skin. But Claire's eyes went red. She grabbed my wrist, her voice sharp as a blade. "Wesley, that was the love token I prayed for you—step by step on my knees—all the way across the Mojave."

My wife Susan had the power to save lives, but when our son was rushed to the ICU and needed her help, she refused no matter how much I begged. While I was crying myself hoarse when I received news that our son was dead, I heard her purring over the phone, "Mark? Don't worry, your puppy's way more important. Of course I'll save it." There was a limit to her power that she could only use it once a month, but she nonchalantly used it for Mark's pet dog! Shaking with rage, I seized her by the collar and bellowed, "We're talking about a human life here, and your son at that! But an animal is worth more than that?!" Susan shook me off, smirking in disdain. "Mark has always been by himself—is there a problem that I took his side? And what could happen to our son when he has his daddy? Stop giving me that attitude!" Just two hours later, Mark posted on social media a photo of him with Susan kissing his pet dog together, with the smug caption: [Who had bet that a son matters more than a dog? Know when you're beaten. Now pay up!] So he had a bet with someone that Susan would choose his dog! Worst of all, Susan lovingly replied: [If Mark wants to win, I'll always be there for him.] Even as I felt heartrending pain, I was laughing coldly as I sent my own reply. [If you all love to bet so much, why not bet when you're gonna drop dead?]

I was born with a gift: the rare ability to bear powerful hybrid children for a vampire. I should have been cherished for it. Instead, my mother died young, her inheritance seized by my stepmother, my father's affection stolen by my stepsister. Only Ryan, heir to the vampire King, treated me with gentleness. When I was young, he fell for me at first sight and was secretly in love with me for two years. Later, at a gala, someone pushed me into a frozen lake. He was the one who pulled me out. He bent close, his eyes soft. “Marry me. Let me protect you.” I said yes without hesitation. Because no one had ever stood beside me so surely. I loved him with everything I had. When assassins struck at our wedding, I even stepped in front of the bullet meant for his heart. But after I dragged my weakened body through childbirth and gave him his child, he appeared before me with my stepsister Vicky in his arms. “You have no use to me anymore.” Ryan's eyes were cold and foreign. “The person I love has always been Vicky.” He had chosen me only for my bloodline, purer, better suited to produce an heir. Vicky smiled and drove the knife into my chest. Ryan stood to one side and watched me die. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night Ryan proposed. Vicky was crying, begging to take my place and marry him instead. This time, I closed my eyes. “All right. I agree to the exchange.”

I had been engaged to Atlas Payne, a powerful CEO, for five years. This was the 21st time he had canceled our wedding ceremony. The first time, his secretary, Jasmine Scott, sprained her ankle. He left me by the roadside and rushed to the hospital. The second time, Jasmine cried and made a scene on the eve of our wedding, so he left me alone on the red carpet. The Payne family was powerful, while I was merely the daughter of a housekeeper. Therefore, everyone advised me to just deal with his mood swings. Every time Atlas left me behind, he would solemnly apologize and promise me that the next wedding attempt would definitely go smoothly. I kept believing him. Even though I was not the family's legitimate mistress, I still handled all the family affairs for him. I waited and waited, but the wedding ceremony never came. All I received was news that Jasmine was pregnant. This time, I had no reason to convince myself to stay. "I will never let you leave my side. If you ever disappear, I’ll make sure to use my family's influence to find you." The sweet words he once said to me were now a cage that trapped me. On Christmas Day, I prepared to leave him for good. I started a fire at home. Even the most powerful family would not be able to find someone who was supposedly dead. Years later, I unexpectedly came across Atlas kneeling at my ‘grave’. He was always so stern, but now, he was crying and begging me to come home and see him again.