Uraraka Floating Novels & Stories

I picked up the top university admission slot that the real heir didn't want. Horace Clark had gone crazy for love. He ran off with a failing student and dropped out, smashing the perfect life he had been handed. Meanwhile, I carried the label of an impostor who stole someone else's place. Step by step, I clawed my way up, became a rising name in the business world, and even married his childhood sweetheart. At the peak of my life, I opened my eyes again and found myself back in senior year, on the day we were filling out our college applications. And floating in front of me were lines of strange comments. [Brian, the fake heir, is a straight-up thief. He stole the life that was supposed to belong to the real heir, Horace!] [In his last life, the real heir completely lost his head over love. He dropped out of school, ran off with that rebellious troublemaker to start a business, and even handed his childhood fiancée to someone else. What a disaster. The guy was a total idiot!] [Good thing he gets a redo this time. The real heir has finally woken up. Now I really wanna see how the fake heir who stole someone else's life ends up crashing and burning.] I watched the comments quietly and sneered. Hate to break it to them, but the road I walked was carved out with my own hands. Even if Horace were reborn a hundred times, he still wouldn't be able to stop me from reaching the top and claiming my glory.

Aurelia had always hated the Thorne twins, and it was no secret. She hated the way they looked like she mattered only to pull the step siblings card… she hated the way they always had their stupid signature smirk on their faces whenever they pulled her leg… hated the way they knew how to pull the right strings to get her and most importantly hated the way, they acted like they weren’t watching that day, watching her as she climaxed alongside them. So no, she definitely didn’t watch them when they weren't looking and absolutely didn’t care who they were smiling at when it wasn’t her. Their friendly step- siblings rivalry had ended on her send off party and 20 year old birthday when she had confronted them and ended up in their bed… only to wake up to their leaked tape. They however did nothing but watch as her dignity was rubbed all over the ground. Five years later, she had moved on and built a perfect life with her 4 year old baby girl and her best friend from back home. Life was perfect until his proposal was interrupted by the Thorne brothers while she was on their cruise ship sailing to the city of her dreams to her dream vacation. It all happened in the blink of an eye and she had woken up to see that their ship was floating in the horizon, leaving them on an abandoned island with nothing but their clothes. Old hatreds ignite. Old secrets surface. And this time the twins aren’t just watching in secret like they had all these years. They’re here to finish what they started… this time they have no plan to let her GO…

On the very first day of college, I became Kingsley University's infamous jerk magnet. It didn't matter whether it was the polished upperclassman everyone adored or the rebellious campus bad boy; any guy who went on even one date with me would dump me the very next day for my roommate, Lucinda Lane. Lucinda quickly became the untouchable dream girl every elite guy was obsessed with, effortlessly managing her ever-growing roster of admirers. She'd hand me another carefully curated list of perfect dating prospects every single day. "Girl, don't be afraid of getting hurt. There's always a better one waiting. You have to be brave enough to chase true love." I believed her. So, I kept going after the next guy. This time, I had gotten a sweet younger student with puppy-dog charm. Then, he dumped me, too. For Lucinda. Just when I was at my lowest, a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. "The heroine is incredible. She's stolen so many men already! I've hated that evil supporting girl forever. Why does some country bumpkin get to have all these guys falling for her?" "I wish I had the heroine's Affection Transfer System. That way, my ex wouldn't have been stolen by that woman." "I can't wait to see what the next male lead is like. I'm literally just sitting here and waiting for her to steal another man." That was when it finally clicked. I'd been working unpaid as stocking labor for her dating pool this whole time.

I am Nyx Jewel, an internally ill lady from the Human Region. After inheriting a vast fortune, with only Six months Span to live, I decided to spend it quietly while my fiancee took over the business, but that was the gravest decision I have ever made. He betrayed me with my stepsister, and my cunning stepmother says it serves me right. My relatives, who have always bowed to me, chuckled when I collapsed out of shock. When my life was withering away, instead of a doctor to be called, They tossed my body into the sea. Little did they know the Moon Goddess had called for me. The turbulent waters, as if guided by divine hands, carried my fragile form to the shores of a mystical realm, unknown to us Humans. *** I am Kade Majesty King, The last Cursed Alpha King of the Werewolf World. Our lineage was cursed to never know true love. That was why My father had died without a true mate. My Grandfather had done the same as well, as all King before him. But things changed after I took the heavy crown upon my head. The Moon Goddess had decided it was time to lift the curse. A mate will be created for me, but the timing remains a mystery. So, like a possessed man, I have waited on pins and needles just for my wolf to cry ' Mate '. Years passed, and depression set in. Then, on a stormy night, a body comes floating off the shore of my kingdom. My True Mate in human form, dying and heartbroken. She sought revenge against the man who had wronged her, and I agreed to help on one condition. That she would be mine.

At the family recognition banquet meant to introduce the real heiress, a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: [So, the real heiress tried to get back at the fake one by stealing the engagement gift from her and the male lead and got caught red-handed.] [Even if she’s technically the fiancée, he knows who he really loves. The fake heiress is the one he actually wants.] [What fiancée? She’s just a thief. Send her back to whatever slum she crawled out of.] Dressed in a princess gown and surrounded by admirers, the fake heiress, Luna Lawson, walked up to me: “Risa, you’re finally back. Mom, Dad, and I have missed you so much. From now on, we’re a family.” I quietly kept eating my fried chicken. When Luna saw me ignore her, her eyes suddenly reddened. Then she reached into my worn backpack and pulled out a ladies’ wristwatch. “Why did you steal the engagement gift Brian gave me? I know you’re dissatisfied with me, but that doesn’t mean you can become a thief!” My fiancé, Brian Cook, looked at me with open disgust. “Return it to Luna right now, then get out of this house.” Under the scornful gazes of the guests, I pointed at the man on stage, my father, who was clinking glasses with Luna’s adoptive father, and asked in confusion. “What exactly did I steal? I’m not here for some family reunion. I just came along with my boss to grab a free meal.” The comments exploded: [This is way too awkward. She’s not the real heiress; she’s just an employee?!]

In order to take care of my wife, Mildred Dale, who kept going into lunatic episodes thanks to the side effects of a car crash, I spent all of my assets and ten years of my life taking care of her. Whenever Mildred went into an episode, she'd hurl everything she could get her hands on at me. At the same time, she'd scratch every inch of my body with her nails. But when she sobered up, she'd hug me while wailing at the top of her lungs. All of my friends advised me to file for a divorce, yet I'd always remember the fact that Mildred had pushed me from the incoming car and hit her head, resulting in her current condition. But everything changed when Mildred beat me up to the point that I sustained grievous injuries. Heck, my soul was already floating near the ceiling at that time. That was when I saw Mildred arranging her childhood friend Hank Weaver's collar carefully. "Why are you crying? He's already dead. Shouldn't we celebrate this occasion instead? "But my heart breaks for you, Mildred. You've pretended to be a lunatic for ten whole years just to swindle every cent out of his account!" Mildred kissed Hank on the lips. Then, she uttered icily, "I've been enduring that cowardly fool for ten long years. Now, I no longer have to be with him." It turns out that Mildred and Hank had painstakingly staged the car accident just so they could put on such a perfect act. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Mildred is diagnosed with mental health issues.

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.