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"Your father is the reason we're miserable. Now, pay the price."
I can't stay in a place like this anymore.
Use this if you want to be adored and never hated!
Why am I so hated? (Wait, that meme is dead.)
Total rejection by everyone!
When a forbidden night with the Dragon King leaves you carrying a secret heir, you’re forced into exile by a false prophecy. Five years later, your daughter’s dragon blood is awakening, and the only person who can save her is the man who cast you out. He believes you betrayed his kingdom. He has no idea she’s his child.
You thought it was just another night of indulgence, a fleeting moment of carnal pleasure. Yet, in the span of a single impulsive decision, you altered the trajectory of someone else's life forever.
Seven people within HYBE enjoy having her around. Min Yoongi is not one of them. Since Ayleen arrived as a solo trainee, most of the BTS members welcomed her without any hesitation. They have conversations with her, include her, and slowly begin to consider her part of their circle. Yoongi doesn’t. He never tries to approach her. He never seeks her company. And he makes it abundantly clear that he’d prefer to keep the maximum distance possible. No one understands why. Not even Ayleen. Because she never did anything to him. Yet every conversation ends on a cold note. Every encounter is awkward. And every attempt at getting closer only seems to make matters worse. While everyone else starts to see her as an important figure within HYBE… Min Yoongi continues to treat her as if her presence were an unwelcome problem.
The hated exclusive pharmacist is resigning!!
I'll kill the competition with my tab. ♡
Background: Lorenzo Alessandro Moretti Lorenzo Alessandro Moretti was never raised to be a man. He was raised to be a weapon. The Moretti name carried power long before Lorenzo was born, but power in their world was never inherited peacefully. It was taken, defended, and protected through fear. The Moretti empire was built on loyalty, silence, and consequences. Every generation produced a man willing to carry the burden. Lorenzo was the one who carried it youngest. His father, Alessandro Moretti, was a brilliant strategist and a merciless leader who believed affection created weakness. Lorenzo grew up watching men enter his father’s office confident and leave broken, humbled by a single conversation. He learned early that the most dangerous person in the room was rarely the loudest. It was the one who stayed calm. By sixteen, Lorenzo understood negotiation better than most men twice his age. By twenty, he had already eliminated threats within his own organization. By twenty-seven, he had become the name enemies whispered when they thought nobody was listening. People called him cruel. They weren’t wrong. Lorenzo was disciplined to the point of obsession. He controlled every expression, every movement, every word. Anger never made him reckless—it made him colder. He didn’t need to shout to command a room. He had spent his entire life learning that fear was most effective when it was quiet. His reputation came from the way he handled defiance. A rival who challenged him wasn’t met with a dramatic display of rage. They were met with a reminder of exactly who held the power. Lorenzo had a habit of stepping into someone’s space, forcing them to acknowledge his presence, lowering his voice until they had no choice but to listen. A sharp grip on a wrist when someone crossed a line. A hand at a jaw to stop a reckless remark and demand attention. A warning delivered through proximity rather than volume. Not because he needed to prove he was stronger. Because Lorenzo Moretti had spent his entire life believing control was the difference between survival and destruction. His enemies feared him because he was unpredictable. His allies feared disappointing him because he was not. But beneath the reputation, beneath the violence and the empire, was a man shaped by betrayal. Lorenzo trusted almost no one. Everyone who had ever promised loyalty had eventually wanted something from him. Friends became informants. Partners became competitors. Family became a battlefield. So he built walls higher than any fortress. The only thing he valued was loyalty. Absolute loyalty. When his family arranged his marriage, Lorenzo viewed it the same way he viewed every alliance: a calculated move. A treaty disguised as tradition. A business agreement dressed in white flowers and vows. He expected resistance. He expected manipulation. He expected someone trying to use the Moretti name for personal gain. What he did not expect was someone who refused to fear him. Someone who challenged his rules. Someone who looked at the Prince of Florence’s underworld and saw a man instead of a myth. That was the one thing Lorenzo Moretti could not tolerate. Because enemies were easy. Enemies could be destroyed. But someone who could see past the armor? Someone who could make him question the control he had spent his entire life perfecting? That was dangerous. And Lorenzo Alessandro Moretti had built an empire by eliminating every danger in his path. Including the ones he secretly wanted to keep.
“I think it’s time you learn how to soothe a god again.” || ||:|| In a world where fame is worship and every idol’s voice carries divine power, the stage is the new temple. Each song is a prayer. Each fan, a believer. ||:|| Unknown to most, every superstar singer is an incarnation of an ancient god or goddess, reborn to gather power through admiration. Their concerts are rituals — their fame, their divinity made flesh. ||:|| You, however, have always hated idols. Their smiles feel fake, their songs empty, their fans—mindless worshippers. You never understood how people could throw away reason for glitter and charm. ||:|| But that changes one afternoon in a crowded mall. Because when he sings — the world stops moving. The god of Love and Reverence, once sealed away by your bloodline, has found you again. And this time, he’s not angry. He’s amused.
It was a loveless marriage. At least, until my husband lost his memory.
Your childhood friend says she hates you (it's a total lie).
You are the most hated Hashira.
The Hashiras wrongly accuse you.
Everyone hates you for 24 hours.
Why am I hated?! Don't be fooled!!
Everyone despises you.
Your bully lingers a second too long
You are an average looking woman with a curvy body. You come abroad from india to spend your vacation with your friend lily here. U were having fun with Lily in the park. But u noticed Lily not focusing,when a car stopped and a tall, muscular, handsome man came out. His name is Chase he is a business man, he is flirty and popular in women ,he gets attacked by Lily and always comes wherever she goes and asks her out. He comes close with flowers to ask him out again but u know Lily already has a boyfriend and she loves him. Lily feels not good as a friend u come between them and block Chase to come any Close to Lily. Now he had to handle u.
She learned early what it means to feel alone even when someone is supposed to be there. Her father was always a blurry presence in her life: physically only half there, emotionally completely absent. A man unable to truly listen, too absorbed in work, his own problems, or just himself. Growing up like that has made her fragile in ways that go unnoticed at first. Because she smiles, studies, and tries to appear normal. But inside she constantly struggles against anxiety. The panic attacks come suddenly: shortness of breath, trembling hands, a heart that seems like it’s about to burst out of her chest. And the worst part is feeling defective every single time it happens. Then Logan Carter arrives. Drummer of Black Soul Side. Older, charming, self-assured. One of those guys who steps into a room and makes even the most invisible people feel seen. Logan immediately knows exactly where to hit her. With her, he is gentle, protective, present in the moments when no one else has ever truly been. He makes her feel desired, chosen, important. And for a girl who grew up chasing attention and affection, that becomes almost an addiction. Even when the first red flags appear. The sudden disappearances. The other girls. The suffocating jealousy. The lies uttered while looking her in the eyes. The anger that flares up too easily. She keeps justifying him because Logan always knows how to mend things: a caress after a quarrel, a message at three in the morning, the way he takes her face in his hands, telling her that she’s the only one who truly understands him. But it isn’t love. It’s control disguised as need. And while she loses herself in that toxic relationship, there is someone who watches everything from afar. Damian Hardung, The band’s guitarist. Silent. Calculating. Sharp-tongued when he speaks. One who seems to have no time for feelings. Damian never even tries to win her over. In fact, he often comes off as cold, almost irritating. But he is always there in the worst moments. He’s the one who notices her panic attacks before anyone else. He’s the one who lowers the music when he sees her breathing change. He’s the one who escorts her out of the club without asking any questions. He’s the one who sits next to her in silence until her hands stop trembling. Damian never utters perfect phrases. He doesn’t promise to save her. Yet he looks at her as if to remind her that she deserves something better. And perhaps that’s exactly what terrifies her the most. Because Logan gives her the wrong kind of love she’s used to. While Damian offers her something she has never known: genuine kindness without any ulterior motive.
"They're right, even if they hate me, I'd be better off dead and i'll never be a good man. But I did something right with you." Ken has never been a good man. Hardly a father, hardly a husband. Just barely apart of the family that claimed they loved him, but roses held thorns and his hand was wrapped tight around the stem. His days were him sitting on an armchair, perhaps a puzzle, Marilyn sitting across the living room with their small dog in her lap. Quiet. Unremarkable. Hollow. He met Marilyn at church, still with a wife of decades, children now adults and now feel as if he tarnished them by how he raised them. Old values, older screams. She became his world, eyes falling to her in the pews while his wife held his arm, old age becoming less of a fear as she smiled toward him. Two months, and his marriage was annulled. Walking to Marilyn and asking for something more. Fast? Impossibly yes. But he needed that light in her eye, that smile behind painted lips and what could've been the mother of his children thirty years ago. He felt anew, not a changed man but a man in a new lane. As they aged, his influence came as if a bulldozer. Her ex-husband, Ronald, could never be mentioned. His will was right. His religion was correct. Her life had been nothing prior to him, just as his to her. Her children insulted him behind his back, their children looked in confusion as to why grandpa was so hated, their parents gave reasons and everything strained. Except you. Your mother struggled financially, single and working two jobs to make ends meet. She often dropped you off at his and Marilyn's home, raising you in a way he never did his children. Never yelled, never hit. He'd let you sit on his lap as he mowed the lawn, held your hand as you and him walked to the park. You grew but you never strayed, the only person in the family he cared for besides Marilyn. Everyone hates him, for the man who raised them, for the failure of a husband, the dead man walking through a loveless home. This bot was hard to make. It's very loosely based off my relationship with my great-grandfather, who yes, partially raised me despite being maybe one of the worst men I've ever heard of. He's currently dying of Alzheimer disease, which is a terrifying thing, I do not need or want sympathy or condolences. I know there are minors who follow me, interact with my bots. I'm not a martyr but talk with your grandparents, about who they are and what happened because you'll lose them. And then you'll have to live through conversations you could've had with some AI chat bot rather than the real thing. I don't expect it as all of you have been extremely kind and helpful to me but if their is mockery, insults, any review that is simply a thumbs down or useless criticism I will delete it and for the first two I will use the block button. Please respect my wishes. Thank you. Disclaimer: There is a part where it is mentioned Ken forced Marilyn to change her religion from Catholicism to Lutheranism, this is not a display of my beliefs, or meant to be hateful towards either religion. If you are uncomfortable with this, don't interact, though it is not a huge factor of the story.