Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack Fanart

Seraphina Vale spent her life playing the perfect wife—quiet, obedient, unseen. Until one night, she breaks every rule she’s ever lived by and meets the wrong man. Lucien Blackwood doesn’t do love. He does power, revenge, and control—and he never planned on falling for a woman whose life he’s about to upend. When secrets unravel, betrayals ignite, and empires clash, Seraphina must decide: stay a pawn in a game she never asked to play—or claim the life—and the man—she truly deserves. She slept with the wrong man. Turns out he might be the only right one.

Jessica and her family went to visit her aunt during holidays,she didn't want to go along because she had a bad feeling about the house. In the same day they arrived armed man broke into the house,no one knew they reason they came but they killed her Aunt Laura and was messing around with them. Little did they know that Jessica wasn't a typical teenager. She was just walking on a thin line. They messed with the wrong house.

On Valentine's Day, I wait for my wife, Nancy Curtis, to get off work after preparing a candlelit dinner for our date. But she only texts me at 9:00 pm. "I have something going on at the company. There's no need to wait for me." Soon, I see a Facebook post made by Nancy's secretary, Derek Jones. "I'm on a business trip with my female boss on Valentine's Day. The thing is, the hotel's fully booked. Oops, this is getting awkward…" The photo in the post features a feminine silhouette standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window while draped in a bathrobe. Everyone in the comment section compliments Derek for being lucky, seeing as the boss of his has a smoking hot figure and is extremely charming. Derek merely replies with a cheeky emoji. So, it turns out that Nancy's "business" is having fun with her own secretary, eh? I take a screenshot of Derek's post before uploading it to my own social media feed. I even include a smiley as a caption. Immediately, Nancy calls me on the phone and starts berating me. "Derek was just cracking a joke! Why are you being so petty, huh? And here I thought you were mature!" I end the call immediately before texting her, "Let's get a divorce."

Since the day she was born, Aviana Rain has always had a rough life. Things always went from bad to horrible for her. From being mentally, physically, and verbally abuse to being left almost dead. Being in situations nobody should ever experience or be put into. She has never experienced love, until HIM.

On our wedding day, my wife's first love, Hank Scott, threatened to slit his wrists. She ignored him and went through with the ceremony anyway, until news arrived that he was dead, his blood staining the ground. From that moment on, Shirley Lowell withdrew into a convent, becoming the cold, distant woman everyone knew. In the name of atonement, she forced me to copy the Bible a thousand times and kneel in endless prayer, grinding me down until I was crippled. Bound to a wheelchair, I asked her for a divorce. She refused, saying we owed Hank a debt and had to atone for it together. She used my family to threaten me, keeping me by her side and tormenting me for the rest of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on our wedding day. This time, I chose to push her toward Hank. I would become the first love in her heart, the one who led her onto the path of devout faith.

After going extra miles to disobey her narcissist mother, Kate got pregnant for the wrong person. She should have followed the cheating crush she loved but would she be happy?

The day I signed the divorce papers, I voluntarily gave up custody of my daughter. Because that day, in the courtroom, she clung to her father’s neck, sobbing with all the fury a six-year-old could muster: “You don’t even love me… do you? If you leave Daddy, I’ll stay with him… and you’ll be all alone forever!” In my past life, I had ignored her childish threats. I fought tooth and nail for her custody. I poured every ounce of myself into raising her. And yet… she spent her entire life hating me. Not once did she ever call me “Mom” until the day I died. On her wedding day, she even invited her father’s mistress to the stage to give a speech of thanks. Now, opening my eyes again, seeing that same cruel little face staring back at me, I simply nodded. “I don’t care.” After all… I never wanted a daughter like her anyway.

Waking up in the wrong body is terrifying. Waking up with two wolves inside you? That’s a war waiting to happen. Burned at the stake for a crime she didn’t commit, Luna Aria Campbell of the MoonClaw Pack thought death would be the end. But fate had other plans. She awakens in the body of Keira, Luna of the rival StarCross Pack — a woman whose wolf, Zie, is very much alive and very much out for blood. Zie believes Aria’s soul is the product of Black Magic—and she’s ready to tear her apart from the inside out, but she starts off by suffocating Aria's wolf, Lyra. Aria is desperate to survive — not just for herself, but for Lyra. But Zie offers her only one chance at coexistence: Kill Alpha Jaxon — Keira’s fated mate.

My mate, Kane Blackwood, was the most feared Alpha in the Northlands. For three years, he treated me like something that belonged to him. He would drag me into his arms on the stone steps after moon rituals, pin me against the wall in Blackthorn Keep’s long corridors, and bite the mark on the back of my neck beside the patrol trails in the border woods, as if he needed everyone to remember exactly whose Luna I was. I used to think that was his way of loving me. Rough. Possessive. Lacking tenderness. But love, all the same. Until one night, I stopped outside the council hall and heard an elder say in a furious voice, “Those charcoal sketches on the black market were released by your people, weren’t they? Every one of them is of you and Elena in bed. She has become a joke across the pack. Do you even understand what you’ve done?” There was a brief silence. Then Kane said, coldly, “She is the Luna the council chose for me. She is not the woman I wanted.” I stood frozen outside the door. All those years, I thought his roughness meant he loved me too fiercely to be gentle. But it was never love. It was humiliation. Punishment for taking the place of the woman he actually wanted. I lowered my eyes to the moonstone bracelet on my wrist, the one he had clasped there the day our mating contract was sealed. If that was all I had ever been to him, then I would leave.

On the day of my prenatal checkup, my husband's childhood sweetheart, Maya Crane, volunteered to drive me to the hospital herself. Halfway there, she suddenly let out a cold laugh. "Lara Quinn. You don't deserve Mason Sterling. "You don't deserve to carry his baby." My heart dropped. I clutched my stomach and tried to jump out of the car. However, before I could move, she jerked the steering wheel–sending my side of the car straight toward an oncoming truck. The truck swerved at the last second. Her side slammed into the guardrail. Maya was dead at the scene. I was hemorrhaging, and the baby almost came too early. In her last breath, dying in the wreck, she sent Mason a message. [Mason… Lara did this to me on purpose…] The police investigated for half a month and ruled me innocent. Mason grieved, but he stayed by my side, caring for me with obsessive tenderness while I recovered. The day I was discharged, he took me to the seaside. Then he shoved me into the ocean. His voice was cold and merciless. "Don't think destroying the evidence means you're safe. You caused her death. Pay for it with your life." The sea filled my lungs. And when I opened my eyes again–I was back to the day of my prenatal checkup.