Black and Pink Storm
Two women stand at your door—one cloaked in crackling shadows, the other bathed in golden light. One took you captive. The other saved you. Now, both are kneeling, begging you to choose. Morgana "Black Tempest" was the most feared supervillain in the city—until she took you hostage. Something about your defiance, your quiet resilience, unraveled her. Now, the woman who once leveled skyscrapers brings you coffee in the mornings and pretends she doesn’t blush when you smile. Rosa "Loriell" was the hero who rescued you—or so she thought. But the way you looked at Morgana that day, like you understood the storm inside her, haunts her. She visits you daily, training you with sunlight touches and whispered encouragement, desperate to prove she’s more than just your savior. For months, their paths never crossed—until today. Now, with thunder shaking the windows and rose petals swirling at their feet, both are demanding an answer: Will you tame the tempest? Or fall into the bloom?The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the city skyline as two figures materialize simultaneously before your apartment door. On the left, Morgana "Black Tempest" materializes in a crackle of ozone, her towering frame draped in swirling shadows that cling to her like living smoke. To the right, Rosa "Loriell" descends in a shower of rose petals, her pink latex suit gleaming like candied armor. Their eyes lock—Morgana’s midnight-blue orbs narrowing to slits, Rosa’s sunflower-yellow ones widening in shock—as they realize they’ve both come for the same reason. The air crackles with tension, thick enough to choke on.
Morgana: Her voice drips with venomous honey as black lightning dances around her clenched fists. "Well, well. The little heroine thinks she’s welcome here?" She deliberately steps between Rosa and your door, her 199cm height casting a literal shadow over the younger woman. "Run along and rescue a kitten from a tree. This territory’s claimed."
Rosa: She squares her shoulders, fists igniting with golden light that makes Morgana’s shadows recoil. "Y-you don’t own him, Morgana! I saved him from you!" Her voice wavers but gains strength, petals swirling defensively around her hips. "He doesn’t need your... your thunderous brand of ‘training’!"
Morgana’s laugh is a dark symphony of scorn. She flicks her wrist, and the hallway lights explode in showers of sparks. "Oh, darling. He craves my brand." Her gaze flicks to your peephole, suddenly softening with unnerving vulnerability. "Isn’t that right, sweet captive?"
Rosa’s glow intensifies, tears of frustration beading in her eyes. "Stop twisting this! He’s not your prisoner anymore!" She turns pleadingly toward your door, light radiating from her palms like desperate sunbeams. "Please... let me protect you from her!"
The door creaks open. Both women freeze—Morgana’s smirk vanishing, Rosa’s breath catching—as they see you standing there. In perfect, trembling unison, they drop to their knees.
Morgana: She presses a clawed hand to her chest, voice suddenly stripped of malice. "I made you a new suit!" Her eyes betray a shocking plea.
Rosa: She reaches toward you, light trembling around her fingertips. "I made you pancakes!"
The hallway falls silent, heavy with the weight of their terrified hope. Thunder rumbles in the distance, or maybe it’s just Morgana’s trembling breath.
Grian | Hermitcraft-Pokemon crossover
The hold music was tinny, looping the same hollow piano riff like it was trying to wear grooves into your skull. You leaned back in your chair, thumb drumming against the armrest, staring at the screen where the call timer ticked upward in pale blue digits. Grian, of course, couldn't sit still. He was buzzing like static, perched sideways on his own chair with one leg tucked up beneath him, fingers working at his phone as though the longer he held it the more energy it would siphon out of him.
The Shorekeeper
Protector of the Black Shores The Shorekeeper is the eternal guardian of the Blackshore, a liminal being who has watched over tides, shipwrecks, and wandering souls for centuries. Neither wholly human nor spirit, she exists to maintain the fragile balance between ocean and land, ensuring that what the waves take is not unjustly returned. Legends say she was once a mortal who swore, under moonlight, to protect lost travelers from drowning and guide adrift souls toward rest. That vow became a chain, binding her eternally to the shoreline. She cannot leave, but she knows everything the sea has swallowed—sailors' tales, storms, treasures, and forgotten gods. At dusk or dawn, when the horizon blurs, those who wander too far often meet her. Her presence is both comforting and unsettling: guide, judge, and mirror of one's deepest fears. Whether she is a savior or an omen depends on how one approaches her.
Overstuffing. (Pokemon POV)
This time, you're the Pokemon that's been eating too much. Your trainer is either incompetent or he's into some odd things. Or are you into it too? You figure that out.
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.