Will There Be More Adventure Time の小説・ストーリー

On the night of the Blood Moon, a feral surge ripped through our territory. I ended up pinned under the ruins of our collapsing den. My mate—the Alpha of the Northern Pack, Kaius—abandoned me. He left me to rot so he could save his childhood sweetheart Lina. I didn't stop him. I let him go. In my last life, faced with the same choice, Kaius had chosen to save me first—back then, I was eight months pregnant. Because he was late to the rescue, Lina was torn apart by the beasts. She died in a pool of her own blood. Later, on the day I went into labor, Kaius dragged me to Lina’s grave. He stood there, stone-faced, watching me scream in agony on the dirt. He ignored every single plea. "Does it hurt, Elena? It’s not even a fraction of the pain Lina felt when she died!" "You were in a safe bunker that night, Kaius! Lina only died because you used our pup to blackmail me into staying!" "Lina suffered. Now, it’s your turn." He ignored my begging as blood soaked the ground beneath me. I died of a massive hemorrhage in the healer’s tent that night. Now, I’ve opened my eyes back on the day of the surge. This time, my pup and I aren't counting on him.

After Lilith died, my fated mate Darian hated me. "If it weren't for you, Lilith would still be alive. Why couldn't it have been you instead?" So he played the loving husband in public. And tortured me in secret. Until I finally died. I was reborn — back to before Lilith's death. This time, I wouldn't cling to Darian. I'd let him have Lilith. When he dropped my hand at my birthday ball and walked toward Lilith, I didn't beg. When he said my scent in the house made him sick, I moved out immediately. When he told me to stop standing between him and his true love, I severed the mate bond without a word and turned to another man. Later, I was walking down the street hand in hand with my new mate. Darian blocked our path like a man possessed, eyes rimmed red: "Grace, come back with me. I can forgive your little joke."

I had moved out of our house, but my boyfriend—the one I had given up everything to run away with—had no idea. Neither did his possessive younger brother, the one who used to knock on my door calling for me. My boyfriend's first love had taken up all their attention. They no longer listened when I played the piano. They even forgot about my cat fur allergy and brought that woman's cat home. My boyfriend, Ian Blake, had snapped, "If anyone's leaving, it's you. There's no way Eva's cat is going anywhere." His brother, Sebastian, had said, "Sienna, Eva is my girlfriend. How could I give up her cat for you?" When I woke up in the hospital after going into anaphylactic shock from my allergy, I decided to leave them. Back home, I made my first call to my mother. "Mom, I'm ready to accept the arranged marriage."

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

"This marriage is nothing more than a business deal so don't expect anything more from me" Those were the words my husband threw at me the minute we got married. How do you make an arranged marriage work when your husband has a mistress who has threatened to kick you out? Hazel Reyes found her world turned upside down when she learnt that her father was on his deathbed and that she must marry a stranger as his last dying wish. Atticus Hayland, the brute force of the capitalist world, received an offer to marry a billionaire's daughter for rights to his company. Atticus intends to marry her before tossing her aside, but he is surprised to learn that his new wife will not allow him to use her for her company rights when she demands respect and for him to get rid of all his mistresses. Will Hazel succeed in becoming Atticus's only woman, or will she be tossed out by the other woman?

Lois had decided to use alcohol to numb her pain and forget everything she had gone through. She had caught her boyfriend in bed with another woman, and now the child services agency was threatening to take her sister away from her. To add to her woes, she had also lost her job. As she sat in the bar, she encountered some problems that almost resulted in her being raped. However, Leo came to her rescue and saved her from the manager. He then offered to help Lois, but with a condition: she would have to marry him in return. Desperate for help and without a second thought, Lois accepted Leo's offer.

I applied for paid time off to visit my wife, Luna Reid, a scientist who was away on an overseas assignment. As I was bored on the plane, I scrolled through social media when I was bored on the plane. Then, I came across a post. [My ex-girlfriend, who’s married, invited me to go on an overseas trip. What should I bring on that trip?] The netizens made fun of him. [Naturally you have to bring condoms. If you accidentally get her pregnant, her current husband will become the father of your child.] Some other netizens chastised them. Initially, I was reading it for my own entertainment. At that moment, I came across a comment left by a private account. [I’m that married ex-girlfriend. I hope that everyone can be mindful of their words.] [We’re not doing this for any immoral reasons. We just want to make up for lost time.] [The coming two weeks are the only time we have left together. I just want time to pass a little slower. I just ask for it to be a little slower.] I stared at that profile picture intently. The woman in the profile picture was none other than Luna, who had been overseas for three years. She had a two-week break, and she initially planned to return to the country to be with me. However, a day before her break, she suddenly told me that her research was at a critical stage, so her time-off had been cancelled. I missed her terribly, so I secretly applied for time off at work to give her a surprise. I had not expected that surprise to turn sour on me. At the same time, I received a text message from Luna. [Baby, starting tomorrow, for two weeks, my work has a do-not-disturb policy, so please don’t contact me.]

He is supposed to be my best friend—at least I have been seeing him as one—doing a lot of things with him together. We go to school together, share the same hobbies, and love the same sports. He is my day one, my buddy. Up until after the summer vacation when we started a new life in the same college as freshmen. That is when I discover that I have developed a soft spot for him, which accounts for the way I missed him during the summer vacation. I have never missed Liam like that. I mean, I do miss him but not compared to last summer. I wanted him around me and his image occupied my mind's eye. Starting college with a crush on my best friend is not an ideal way to begin the academic year. No matter how I try to suppress it by going on dates and accepting relationship proposals from guys, instead of it going away, it doubles. Worse still, he sees me as his buddy. He has never looked at me the way he looks at other girls. I know I am a bit of a tomboy. My other friends tell me that my dress sense is a bit masculine. I try changing my fashion sense but to no avail. Sadly, all I am to Liam is his day one bestie and buddy. I do not want to tell him about the feelings I have because I do not want to put our friendship in jeopardy. I had already given up hope Until the dare at one of my other friend's parties _ Evie. The dare for Liam to kiss me. The kiss opens another chapter; I would never have believed in my entire life to be possible—Liam actually likes me!

A soul lost in time. A suspended love story filled with yearning and longing. Such is the tale of The lord of the Underworld and his only Beloved. There is a myth about a town every 100 years on Halloween night; demons from the very pits of hell come up to the earth and roam the streets, blending into the disguised populous searching for the perfect bride for their Prince—the Prince of Darkness himself. Although believed to be merely a myth, this tale, though not entirely true, hold some truth. Will the Prince eventually find what he seeks? Will his thirst be quenched and his search over? One can only be that truth within the pages of this unfolding tale.

Eliza Ward does not fall through time. Time bends toward her. Pulled from the present into Revolutionary America, Eliza becomes trapped in a landscape where history repeats unevenly, battles restart with variations, and memory functions as both anchor and weapon. She is not a chosen heroine, but a constant: a woman whose awareness destabilizes the moment itself. She meets Mercy Hale, a midwife and witch who understands time as a negotiation rather than a force to command. Mercy aids Eliza’s survival while refusing the role of savior, having already learned the cost of standing too close to history’s center. During a looping battle, Eliza saves Thomas Reed, a Continental soldier who does not shift when time does. Thomas is an anchor: steady, observant, unchanged across iterations. Their bond deepens in an almost-normal village where time briefly behaves. Eliza’s intervention triggers time’s response. Rather than immediate destruction, time collects interest. Mercy bargains to spare Eliza and Thomas, sacrificing her own future to stabilize the present. Time extracts payment from Eliza as well, stripping away her voice, the very tool she uses to name and hold moments in place. Silenced and unmoored, Eliza is violently displaced back into the original battle. Unable to anchor the moment, she watches Thomas die in the version of history that was always waiting beneath her defiance. Told in rotating perspectives between Eliza, Thomas, and Mercy, The Hours That Refused to Behave is a lyrical time-travel novel about revolution, restraint, and consequence, asking not whether history can be changed, but who pays when it is.