Yotsuba Reaction Face

Everyone says I have the face of an angel. However, I choose to take a knife and slash my own beautiful face. When my twin sister sees the drastic change in my appearance, she loses it and screams at me, wanting to know why I ruined my face. In my past life, she couldn't stop stealing food deliveries. When our next-door neighbor caught her, she shoved the pregnant woman so hard that she miscarried. The woman was seven months along, and both she and her baby died. But my sister just shrugged it off, bragging that she was some popular influencer, and two pathetic lives didn't matter. She even slapped down a 50-dollar bill like it was nothing, just to humiliate them. "Still trying to scam my money? For all we know, that woman's baby was already dead inside her. Your family must've done pretty awful things to deserve losing two lives like that!" When the dead woman's family showed up at our door with kitchen knives, ready for revenge, my sister chickened out and hid. Before that, she tricked me into coming home instead. The second I walked up to our front door, the grief-stricken husband slashed at my neck, severing the artery. I died right there on the spot. After I died, everyone spat on my memory. They all said I got what I deserved, and my parents covered up what my sister really did. She even had the nerve to come forward and apologize for me, cashing in on my death while hooking up with my boyfriend. The two of them became this perfect couple online and made tons of money. This time around, I decide to destroy my face. I want to see how she will steal my identity and pin her crimes on me now!

I had always been fragile, the kind of kid who could not handle a gust of wind without losing balance and who teared up over the smallest thing. The day my biological parents found me and took me back into their wealthy world, everything had already felt unreal. Then, things got worse. Out of nowhere, an old woman came sprinting down the street and dropped right in front of the Bentley, like she had timed it perfectly. I panicked and completely froze, so I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped down beside her and started crying. However, I overdid it. I cried so hard that blood started streaming from my eyes. The old woman jolted upright like she had seen something horrifying. She shoved 500 dollars into my hands, muttered a string of curses, and ran off without looking back. Just like that, I was back with the Snyder family. The house rose in front of me, all polished stone and perfectly kept lawns, like something out of a magazine. However, the closer I got, the more my nerves kicked in, and that familiar metallic taste crept up my throat again. The so-called heir walked over, smiling like we were supposed to be close. Then, he gave me a light shove. He leaned in, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "Stay in your place. Don't start wanting things that were never yours." Right there, in front of everyone, I leaned back and collapsed. I did not move at all. He froze. His face turned red as he grabbed my collar and shook me. "Quit pretending. Get up!" A few seconds passed, then a few more, before he slowly turned his head, his movements stiff. Tiny drops of blood speckled his clothes. His voice trembled. "Mom… Dad… I think…" He swallowed hard. "I think he stopped breathing."

“To escape a monster, she ran straight into the arms of a devil.” Lila Vance was a debt payment. Wrapped in fifty thousand dollars of French lace, she was minutes away from marrying Marcus Thorne—a man who whispered that she was nothing more than his "property." But Lila refused to be broken. With a ripped dress and a heart full of terror, she bolts from the altar and into the private elevator of the Grand Imperial Hotel. When the doors open, she finds herself in the lion’s den: the penthouse of Adrian Sterling, her fiancé’s most lethal rival. Adrian is a man carved from shadows and sin, a billionaire "Shark" who destroys legacies for sport. When Marcus comes to claim his prize, Adrian offers Lila a choice: go back to the man who will break you, or sign a one-year marriage contract with the man who will own you. As the line between their fake vows and real desire begins to blur, Lila must face a terrifying truth: Adrian Sterling didn't save her out of mercy. He saved her because she is the final piece in a game of revenge he’s been playing for years. In a game of power, who will be the first to break?

Amara Cross sacrificed everything for her Alpha husband—taking a silver bullet that permanently weakened her wolf, enduring a pregnancy that nearly killed her, and shrinking herself for five years hoping to earn his love. Instead, she found him with his mistress and watched her five-year-old son call another woman "mommy." Broken and discarded, she walked away from the pack that never valued her. Three years later, Amara returns as a powerful tech mogul worth millions—stunning, confident, and untouchable. Everything her ex-husband said she'd never be. But her carefully constructed walls face two threats: Damien, who suddenly wants her back now that she's successful, and Lucian Volkov—a ruthless Lycan mafia king who's also her second-chance mate. Lucian is possessive, dominant, and refuses to accept her rejection. He sees through her armor to the terrified woman beneath who's scared of being destroyed again. Caught between a past that broke her and a future she's afraid to want, Amara must decide: will she let fear keep her alone forever, or will she risk everything to reclaim not just her power, but her heart? Sometimes the greatest strength is choosing to trust again.

Over the Fourth of July weekend, I took my boyfriend's sister to his flashy new influencer hub. Fresh off brain surgery, Benedetta Griffin needed a break from her recovery, and I hoped the trip would lift her spirits. In the hub, a streamer was hawking a face cream like a carnival barker. "Listen, fam! The boss lady is slashing prices. Get this $3,800 cream for just $398 today!" Benedetta tugged my sleeve. "That cream is bad news." She'd interned at the FDA last summer and could spot a scam from a mile away. "It's packed with steroids. Long-term use will ruin your skin." Driven by her sense of justice, she marched up to the streamer. "You can't sell this unlicensed junk. The steroids exceed legal limits. Pull it from the shelves." Morgan Lamb froze, but then her fake smile twisted into a scowl. "Who the hell are you to trash my product?" Benedetta didn't back down. "You're scamming people, and you know it." Morgan planted her hands on her hips. "I'm the boss lady here. How dare you slander my brand? Nobody leaves until you cough up $500,000 for damages." "Boss lady?" My stomach churned. My boyfriend's sudden venture into the streaming industry now made sense. He was sinking money into this hub to bankroll his lover. I fumbled for my phone to call him, but Morgan was faster. "Babe, get to the hub. Two haters crashed the party, trying to tank our business."

The century-long war was over. My sister and I were the Alpha's daughters. The strongest pack in the North. We were forced into a marriage alliance with the Evernight vampire kingdom. A witch prophesied a powerful hybrid would be born to our family. A child destined to be king. Soon, my sister and I were both pregnant. I didn't care about giving birth to the prophesied ruler. I just wanted my child to be safe and healthy. But I never expected what happened. My sister, Liliana, gave birth to the hybrid king. Her mate, the first prince, Damien, was immediately named Crown Prince. And me? I gave birth to a monster. A beast born in its feral wolf form, all fangs and fury. I was branded unclean. My mate, the second prince Kael, was executed for my "sin." Burned to ash. Only in my last moments did I learn the truth. The monster my sister had swapped for mine? It was hers. It was all a scheme. A plot she and Damien hatched to hide a defect in his bloodline and steal the throne. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back before everything went to hell. And my sister was walking toward me, a smile on her face, a glass of juice in her hand…

"Nyla, stop being dramatic. Raise Jordyn's baby, and I'll come home for dinner once a month." Those were the terms Clark Summer offered his wife after she discovered his affair. When Nyla demanded a divorce, Clark laughed in her face, treating her pain like a childish tantrum. "You love me too much to leave," he scoffed, convinced she was nothing without him. He was wrong. Nyla didn’t just leave; she leveled up. She walked into a bar and set her sights on Damon Summer—Clark’s estranged, ruthless, and terrifyingly handsome uncle. Clark is losing his grip on the company and his sanity, consumed by jealousy as he watches his "boring" wife shine beside his powerful uncle. He stands in the rain, begging for a second chance, but Nyla only has one question left for him: "You chose the mistress. Why are you crying now that I’ve chosen someone else?"

My boyfriend suddenly posted something on his Instagram. [I’ve offered my body and soul to the country.] I was about to ask what he meant when he sent me a plane ticket to the northwest. He explained that the mission was confidential and that he could not be in contact with me during this time. Ten months passed. He was supposed to be away, but he came home unexpectedly and caught me at a prenatal checkup. When he saw my eight-month-pregnant belly, his face turned pale with anger. “I’ve been gone for ten months. How are you pregnant?” I shrugged and said, “Weren’t you supposed to be gone for three years? Why are you back after just ten months?”

At the company team-building event, I got called out by my colleague Samantha Rowler for not removing my price tag—she accused me of being a "freebie chaser." "Oh wow, Carla, you drive a BMW 5 Series. Are you seriously planning to return your clothes within seven days too?" she sneered. I tucked the tag back in and ignored her snide remark. But after the event, as soon as I got home, my phone started blowing up. My chat apps were going insane. A friend had sent me a link: [Luxury-Car Executive Turns Out to Be a Return Addict!] Someone had filmed me leaving the price tag on and posted it to a short-video platform. I opened the comment section and was met with a barrage of insults. [Can't afford to live, huh? Tag warrior.] [Is this car a sugar-daddy gift? Those who know, know.] [OMG, does this woman have some kind of illness? Which brand is this so I can avoid it!] I immediately knew Samantha was behind it. I messaged her to delete the video. Instead, the next second, she blocked me—and pinned a comment to the top of the thread: [You can know a person's face but never their heart!] I was about to post a statement to clarify, my finger hovering over the send button, when I noticed the video's likes had already shot past ten thousand. I laughed. If they wanted a scene, fine—let's make it bigger. I quickly posted a new update: [The outfit is really nice. I'll wear it again next time.] The netizens erupted. The insults doubled, the heat skyrocketed, and the post shot straight to number one trending. I just put my phone down and went to sleep.

My cousin, Myra Walsh, leaves a voice message in the family group chat in a mean and uncouth manner. "Mom, I'm not meeting that guy who drives a rundown car. One look at him tells me that he's a single pathetic loser." She then kicks my chair. "Hey Sam, that useless piece of shit is a good match for you. Why don't you take my place on the blind date?" I follow Myra's line of sight. There's an old-looking car parked outside, and the owner, Henry Quinton, is currently reclining against the car while smoking. My entire family thinks he's just an ex-convict who has just gotten released from prison and is unable to land a job yet. I'm the only one who knows that's not the truth. Last week, when I was carrying out my internship at a bank, I witnessed the bank manager inviting Henry into the vault. Apparently, the trail of numbers Henry has in his savings is as long as a phone number. After putting on some makeup on my face to make me pure and innocent, I put on an oversized shirt before heading out of the apartment. In the cold wind, I cower slightly from the cold as I hand a thermos flask over to Henry. "Sir, Maya said she's not a match for you, so I'm here in her place." Henry snuffs out his cigarette, his gaze fixing on my flapping hem for three seconds. "Lass, if you want to be with me, you'll have to suffer tremendously in life." "I'm willing to go through anything as long as I get to be with you." That night, Maya flaunts photos of the bag a rich scion has given her. As for me, I've gone over to Henry's apartment.