Finn Adventure Time Face Novels & Stories

They say Don Julian Marconi would burn the world for one tear of mine. Five years ago, at the Met Gala, he spent millions to hang emeralds around my neck and swore I was his Madonna. Five years later, beneath the velvet boxes of our anniversary, I found a lace strap soaked in sin—and a fresh, crimson smear on his collar that told me exactly whose bed he’d left. I smiled. I asked him to sign a blank sheet of paper. And that meant he was agreeing to whatever I wanted. He called it love. I called it the death warrant for his empire. In fifteen days, I finalized our divorce papers. I boarded the Stella d’Oro as Serena Cole and burned Celeste Marconi to ash on the deck. Then I vanished with his fortune, his power and the one secret that would destroy him. I was the saint he worshipped. Now I am the ghost who haunts him. No groveling. No forgiveness. No second chance. Just ashes.

Bianca is dying. Acute myeloid leukemia, stage three. The family doctor told me on the phone—bone marrow transplant, only option, perfect match. Identical twins share ninety-nine percent compatibility. I crushed the diagnosis report. My name was at the top: Gemma Blackwell. But the doctor trembled, whispering apologies. A clerical error. The sick twin was Bianca. The cure was me. I had to get home. Rain lashed the taxi windows. I rehearsed the scene: Father setting down his cigar, Mother gasping, me explaining the mix-up. The report has my name, but the blood work is Bianca's. I can fix this before it's too late. My phone lit up. Family group chat. Father's message was short: [Gemma is terminal. Bianca forbidden from donation. Family decision.] My blood turned to ice. They had seen the misdelivered file. They thought I was the one dying—and they had voted to let me rot. When I pushed open the door and saw Father, I felt it— the temperature drop, the world freezing around me. Tears burned my eyes. I couldn't stop them. "Father," I said, my voice barely steady. "I have a question for you." He looked up from his cigar, annoyed. "If it were Bianca dying," I whispered. "Would you have made me give her my marrow?" The room went silent. He set down the cigar. A long pause. "No," he said finally. "Of course. We have resources. We would find another donor. We would never ask you to take that risk." I smiled a little. Just a small, sad smile. "Good," I said softly. "That's exactly what you said. Don't regret this."

(My fiancé cheated on me, so I made a plan to get back at him by cheating with his father) “Who do you belong to, baby girl? Me or Finn?” He buried his face between her legs. “You! I… belong to you… Daddy!” Maisie cried out ecstatically. “Ugh… so good.” He grunted. “You look so… good when… I touch you, Pet!” Becoming the submissive pet of her father-in-law was her twisted plan to get revenge on her fiancé, Finn, for cheating on her. She had vowed, "I'll fuck his father as much as I want for what he did to me. Then, I'll marry Finn, make him watch me fuck his father, and divorce him." It was a clear plan, one meant to mess with both Finn and his father. But she had no idea that this would spark an unending obsession from Rafael Caruso—her father-in-law, a secret mafia don, a man nobody dared to cross. "I was never a part of your silly games, baby girl," Rafael growled, his voice dripping with authority. "I wanted you even before Finn. You are my submissive pet. You signed the damn contract, and you will do as I fucking say." He gripped her hand, pinning her to the wall. "I will keep you as long as I want, for as the contract stands. You belong to me! There's no escape!”

My brother vanished searching for the truth about our bloodline. Now I'm in the town that swallowed him whole — and the Alpha who runs it knows exactly what I am. He just won't tell me. Kael Blackwood has driven out everyone who asked too many questions. His pack obeys without hesitation. His enemies disappear without trace. And since the moment I arrived, something between us has been pulling tighter — a bond he's fighting, a secret he's keeping, and a full moon two days away that changes everything. My brother left one warning: Don't let them mark you before you know what it means. I'm starting to think the most dangerous thing in Ashveil isn't what they're hiding. It's what I am.

I hid behind the study curtains, heart racing with a fragile, trembling joy. In my hands: an ultrasound photo—two heartbeats—and a no-limit black card. Alessandro had given it to me last night, his lips on my neck, calling me his Donna, his queen. Tonight, I was going to tell him about the twins. "The Petrov family needs to see my good faith," his voice drifted in, smooth as velvet. "Vittoria arrives Thursday. I’ll announce the engagement then." My blood froze. "What about Elena?" someone asked. "She’s been with you three years. She manages the books, dug that slug out of your side herself. Is this fair to her?" "Elena?" He leaned back in the leather chair, cigar smoke curling around his jaw. "She’s like a trained hound, Salvatore. After the Rossi family got wiped out, I pulled her from the gutter, gave her a gun and a bed. Have you ever seen a hound leave its master? I could kick her, and she would lick my boot and ask for another." My nails sank into my palms, crumpling the ultrasound. "Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave?" Marco, his Capo, asked. Alessandro paused. Then he said: "She would die for me without question. How could she ever leave?" Those words struck my chest like two 9mm rounds. I didn't wait. I ran through the cemetery, past the tombs of dead Dons, and hurled that card into the Hudson. I vanished into the night with his heirs in my womb and three years of lies in my throat. "I'm sorry, my babies," I whispered to my belly. "Mommy was a fool." But I wouldn't be a fool anymore.

In my previous life, I had been suffering from a terminal illness when I won the lottery.  To my shock, Mommy advised me to forgo treatment and leave the winnings to my younger brother, David, to use for his marriage.  I refused to become an accessory to his future, so, behind my parents’ backs, I donated every bit of it to an orphanage.  When they found out, they were furious. They called me a heartless, ungrateful wretch.  After severing ties with me, they abandoned me at the hospital. On David's birthday, they gathered as a family and celebrated him while I was left to die in the hospital, utterly alone. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I had won the lottery.  Recalling the pain and betrayal of my past life, I resolved to leave my parents that very day.  But to my surprise, when I returned home, they had completely changed.  They doted on me and showered me with affection.

***This is the sequel to Once Upon An Alpha; please read it first.*** Once Upon a Luna continues to follow Rose, Orion, their friends, and their pack a year and a half after the Fallen Moon battle. Now that Hodges, Kroll, and Greta are dead, it's time for the Black Moon pack to move forward. Has Rose figured out her other gift? Where will her gifts lead her this time? What will Rose's premonitions show her next?

After being chosen by a horror game, I took over a food stall in a small town. A ghoul tried to eat me, his huge, bloody mouth a gaping maw, but I quickly shoved a focaccia sandwich into it. He chewed and then said, “Oh, forget it. With food to eat, I’ll kill her tomorrow.” The next day, I made delicious pierogies, then skewers and stews. All the ghouls who stopped by gave up on trying to kill me, focusing on eating instead. The audience watching me was shocked that I could survive all the way to the end with just my cooking.

My new patient, Lydia Baldwin, has called the police 99 times. Her voice trembles with fear as she says, "My son has a mole on his neck, but the one now doesn't! My husband used to throw up at the smell of cilantro. But now, he eats it every day and even enjoys it! "They are impostors! Why won't the police arrest them?" I am deeply shocked. Because just half an hour earlier, I met her son. He had dark circles under his eyes as he handed me Lydia's medical records. "My mom has Alzheimer's disease. She doesn't just forget things now. She talks nonsense too. Please, you have to help her come to her senses." But I specialize in treating Alzheimer's. Lydia's memory is sharp. Her logic is clear and well-supported. She isn't sick at all.

3:00 a.m. Insomnia gnawed at my nerves like a rusted saw, grinding back and forth mercilessly. On a whim that I couldn't explain, I opened a radio app called "Echoes from Below." The interface was simple and bare. Black background, blue text. No ads, no host introduction. Just a single audio waveform, slowly buffering on the screen. The shape of the waveform felt wrong. It didn't look like soundwaves at all. More like rows of sharp, interlocking teeth. A pop-up window appeared in the center of the screen. [Listening Guidelines] The letters glowed blue, carrying an unsettling eeriness. [This station's signal may extend into dreams. If you hear the broadcast while dreaming, firmly believe that you are awake.]