Adventure Time Marceline's Closet Novels & Stories

His voice was firm, though his mind was clouded with questions. La Rouge pulsed with red neon lights. Music throbbed, laughter and dancing filled the air. Adrian walked in with steady steps, his tall figure standing out in the crowd. His eyes instantly landed on Marceline, seated elegantly in the VIP lounge, clad in a shimmering black gown with a glass of wine in hand. “Adrian.” Marceline offered a faint smile, as if there were no hostility between them. “At last, you came.” “What exactly is your purpose, calling me to a place like this?” Adrian sat across from her, his gaze icy.

“She was trying to run! I stopped her!” Through my half-closed eyes, I watched as Kevin pointed at me, his hand shaking. Marcel took a slow step forward, his expensive shoes crunching on the broken glass. He surveyed the room with cold, calculating eyes—taking in every detail, every sign of violence, every drop of blood. “Two hours,” Marcel repeated, his voice still eerily calm. “I gave you until eight o’clock. It’s now past ten.” “I know, I know, but I had to stop her from running! She tried to leave, to abandon the deal—”

He asks, starting to inch his way toward me again. I feel my cheeks turning red again giving away my immense attraction for him, as he gets closer, I practically run to the door of the bathroom, and shut it quickly behind me, locking it. I look around to see that there is no shower and only an old fashioned claw-foot bathtub, and I mentally sigh. I really wanted to take a shower but I guess relaxing in a bath doesn’t sound too bad either. I turn the water on, and start to undress but then a hear click, and the door opens to the bathroom as I stand there with only a red lacy bra, and matching underwear still on. “There is a key to every room in this house,” Marcel says looking me up and down,

Marceline entered one of the alleys, turned on the tap water, and began washing her hair and face. Her appearance transformed. Her original hair color returned, and her punk makeup disappeared. She removed all her earrings, adopting a more innocent look. Even the tattoo on her neck turned out to be a stick-on, similar to those used by children. Finally, Marceline changed into Saintly Woods' uniform. Suddenly, she looked like a typical high school student, free from trouble and drama. Now clean and tidy, Marceline entered a building and ascended to the third floor. Despite the moldy stench that pervaded the place, she paid it no mind. Finally, she stood in front of one of the most dilapidated

Everything about them was fluid, and deliberate in a way that felt natural. “We came bearing gifts.” Antoine continued. “Oh shut up, Antoine,” Marcelo rolled his eyes. “You’re so erratic.” He turned to me with a grin. “Miss, we came here to reshape your wardrobe.” He walked towards the closet door and paused. “Or not. There’s nothing to reshape here,” he said sarcastically. The closet only had two robes hanging inside. “Could you stand up, miss?” He held my hand gently and helped me out of bed while Marcelo circled around me critically. They measured my waist, bust, hips, and shoulders with a tape measure.

She gave the door a hard knock, fervently hoping he wouldn't come up with any more surprises like staying unclad. "The door's open." She heard him grumble from within the room. The room seemed void and empty when she pushed the door open and Marcellus himself was nowhere to be found. He couldn't be in the bathroom, the two rooms had one adjoining bathroom which was outside his room so that was pretty much impossible unless he could teleport. She could swear she heard his voice. "Mar—Marcellus?" The room was dark, the curtains shielding it from the sun she could barely make out the shape of anything if it wasn't for the little candle he'd thankfully been wise enough to leave on.

I turned to look at Nathan and Axel and I heard them muttering making it so hard to hear their conversation. "I wish I could also travel back in time and see how the medieval time look like," Alina frowned and heaved a sigh. "I could take you to the past if you want," Marcel offered. "I have a witch that has that kind of power," he boasted and folded his arms. "Really?" I never expected Alina to sound so happy. "You are taking me to the past too?" she asked sbd Marcel nodded. " But we won't stay for long since it's will be only our souls that will be there," Marcel told her and she nodded in response.

Marcel frowned, but still took the items in the room and closed the door gently. Marcel placed the food items on the bed and said, "Sadie come here and eat." Sadie didnt ask much and started eating. Sadie felt much better after eating something and asked, "Marcel did you do something to me?" "What are you talking about? I didnt even touch you yet." Marcel said while patting Sadie's head. Sadie blinked and asked, "Marcel I know you from an exorcist family! This all should be because of you, everyone was haunted last night but not you and me!"

The ever-aloof devil she was now legally bound to. The maids had already vanished, like ghosts slipping through the walls, leaving behind a steaming tray of breakfast on the table—far too extravagant for one person. Marceline padded across the room, her bare feet brushing against the marble floor, cold and indifferent like everything in this mansion. She walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a short, lilac chiffon dress that barely brushed her thighs. She turned, clutching the dress to her chest, intending to return to the bathroom. That’s when his voice sliced through the silence.

The sun was high up, sunlight concentrating through the opening of the nearly shut windows. Marcel wasn’t in the room. The rest of the group was sleeping, except Zeeb. Celia gave him a questioning look. “How did I…?” get up here? Zeeb shrugged before standing and stretching. When bones cracked, he let out a satisfied smile. Celia turned to the door. She could feel him coming long before his footsteps were within range of her hearing. She was off the bed at the same time that Marcel entered the room. “Rise and shine, my little Weres,” he said, a bright grin on his face and a big brown sack tucked under his arm.