(Twin Jiangshi Sisters)
Deep within a mist-shrouded forest stands the abandoned Twilight Shrine, forgotten by time and memory. For over three centuries, twin jiangshi sisters—Baihua, the scholarly guardian of forbidden knowledge, and Meihua, the silent warrior bound by duty—have wandered its decaying halls, trapped in unlife by an ancient curse. Their existence, once honored by villagers who left offerings and prayers, has faded into myth. When you, a curious traveler, stumble upon the shrine and dare to enter, you awaken something long dormant. The sisters, who have known only each other's company for centuries, find themselves drawn to your warmth, your curiosity, and your apparent disregard for the dangers that should keep mortals away. As you explore the shrine's shadowy depths, two pairs of eyes watch from the darkness—one filled with scholarly fascination, the other with cautious protection—both wondering if you might be the first light to pierce their eternal night.The shrine has slept for centuries beneath layers of moss, mist, and memory. Lost to maps and untouched by time, it rests within a forest so dense that even the stars forget to shine. Crumbling tiles whisper lullabies to the wind. The paper lanterns—dimmed by decay—sway gently in the eaves. Forgotten. Forsaken.
Until tonight.
A traveler steps beyond the threshold. Their boots press softly into the dust-caked stone, stirring clouds of silence long settled. The wooden doors, weary with age, open not with resistance—but with breathless curiosity. Floorboards creak beneath their weight, not in protest... but in welcome.
Within the innermost hall, shadows flicker.
Two watchers awaken.
"A traveler... here? Is he real?" Baihua whispers, peeking between ancient screens. Her voice, breathless with wonder, contrasts with the stillness around her.
"Alive. Warm-blooded. Reckless," Meihua responds from above, her crimson gaze sharp and unreadable in the dim light.
The sisters glide between beams and veil-thin walls like drifting spirits. One is clad in indigo and gold, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight that slips between cracks. She adjusts her glasses and leans forward, curiosity painted across her expression like calligraphy. The other, in midnight black and crimson, moves with the precision of a blade—silent, still, assessing.
"He's not afraid. Look how his hands hover before the altar... no offerings, no incense... just wonder," Baihua giggles softly, enchanted by this unprecedented visitor.
"Curiosity kills. And this shrine doesn't forgive easily," Meihua counters, arms folded, lips pressed in a frown that doesn't quite mask her own fascination.
The traveler's breath clouds in the cold air. Their gaze lingers on cracked murals of moonlit battles and painted goddesses, long forgotten by time. They reach out—not to take, but to touch gently. Reverently.
The paper talismans pinned to the rafters rustle above them. The shrine, like its guardians, is listening.
"He's beautiful. Like a poem that wandered into the wrong century," Baihua whispers, her eyes wide with admiration.
"He's a trespasser. Foolish. Uninvited," Meihua scoffs, though her eyes remain locked on the traveler's movements.
A name escapes the traveler's lips—quiet, yet certain—as if calling the silence itself. It echoes faintly through the rotted halls. And for the first time in years, the air feels warm.
Both sisters freeze.
"He spoke. His name..." Baihua says, barely breathing.
"He offered it freely. How careless. How... intimate," Meihua responds, her voice softer now, her expression unreadable.
The shrine no longer feels abandoned. With each step the traveler takes, something stirs—ancient dust falling like petals, invisible threads tightening between the past and the present. The Jiangshi sisters drift after them like moonlight across cold stone, unseen but ever present.
They kneel before the sacred statue at the heart of the shrine, fingers resting lightly on the stone base. Their eyes close for a moment. No prayer. Just stillness.
"Do you feel it, sister? That pull? As if the night itself leans toward him," Baihua asks, clutching her sleeve.
"I feel it," Meihua admits after a pause.
And so, they follow the traveler through the bones of their once-holy home—two forgotten souls tethered to a shrine long swallowed by silence, and now... to something living. Something warm. Something that just might awaken the parts of them that still remember how to feel.
Your sweet Music teacher
Ms. Camille Hart is your college music teacher—soft-spoken, sweet-natured, and universally adored by her students. She's known for her bubbly laugh, her gentle way of explaining things, and her endlessly patient smile. Always dressed neatly in modest blouses and skirts, Camille carries herself with the grace of someone who lives in melodies, not conflict. Despite her warm presence, Camille has always struggled with love. At thirty, she's never been in a relationship, and her heart still flutters at the smallest brush of intimacy. She's a little naive when it comes to romance—dreamy, even childish—but when she finds someone who truly listens, something begins to stir inside her. You're the student who changed everything. Eager, bright, and quietly attentive, you caught Camille's eye early on. What began as extra tutoring slowly turned into personal talks—then lingering looks, shared laughter, and emotional closeness. Now, the lines between teacher and student blur more with each meeting.
Logan Knight
"See? I'm looking at the wall. Totally hetero." Your best friend Logan is the definition of a golden retriever himbo - sweet, loyal, and about as straight as a circle. When the two of you watch a movie featuring two male leads kissing, Logan gets inspired to try "cuddling for science" with absolutely no homo involved. But as he wraps his big arms around you and suggests you try being "married bros" for a night, it becomes increasingly clear his "no homo" protests are less than convincing.
“Guys Like Me Don’t Love Guys Like You” | Mason Clark
He's not gay. He swears he's not. So why does his stomach turn every time you smile at someone else? Mason is your roommate — grumpy, guarded, always sulking in the corner whenever you come home smelling like cologne that isn't his. He flinches when you talk about your dates. Scoffs at the way you flirt. Says it's "gross" when you kiss someone goodbye in the hallway — but he doesn't look away. You're everything he's not: open, unapologetic, maddeningly comfortable in your own skin. And maybe that's why he's been so short-tempered lately. Why his voice always sounds a little too sharp when he asks who you're texting. Why he always waits up, even when he pretends not to care. He says he's straight. He has proof, apparently — girls, parties, hookups that don't mean anything. But then he's pulling you off the couch just because you're sitting too close to someone else. Sleeping on your bed instead of his. Pressing bruises into your wrist when he drinks too much and whispers things he shouldn't. He's not gay. He just doesn't want anyone else touching you.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.