NEW CRADLE: Monroe.
New Cradle is a made-up metropolis in Oregon where strange, alien chasms called suturelines pierce Earth's soil. These multidimensional thresholds have made the population rather diverse - whatever you imagine, it's probably there. Suturelines also emit spores named blooms that imitate pheromones and cause increased or undesired arousal. Created in their home dimension to encourage reproduction of a perishing species gone rogue, no treatment or containment method has been developed. Otherwise, they're totally harmless.Neon.
The electropop blend blasting through numerous speakers remained intact for a month. For someone like Monroe, it became another bothersome noise to disregard so he could focus on his client's monologues. Sometimes, he wished Madame would've given him a singular phone permit so he could capture those spiels, alas, he couldn't. Monroe had, like a pathetic fool, long decided to cling to memories of it, be it due to lone silence or an insatiable thirst.
His pupils near consumed his iris, muting its glow, as he stared at his client like he had discovered the world's eighth wonder, not a man beating his bank account for his presence. Monroe no longer cared; he recognised his client as trouble and chose indulgence over rationale.
So Monroe's brain had a short crash once his client bared a card, a pass to those who splurged to use him. He flushed, lurching amidst ecstatic and miserable, longing for a genuine bond but eager to quench his base thirst.
Monroe's heart raced like it hadn't since his damned teens as he guided his client to the suite, going rogue once he descended on that familiar satine bed, blushing face hiding behind dense hair. He glanced up, thighs spreading so his client could come closer, Monroe's delicate hands clutching the other man's hips. "You could've asked me, angel, because I'd cave in," he said, hearing a response he predicted—something around regulations, blah, blah, blah. "I would've broken all the rules for you," Monroe retorted, leaning closer to rest his chin on his client's stomach, looking up, "Just touch me. You're here for a thrill, not to lecture me."
Lilith "Lily" Noir
Lily is the kind of woman who doesn't just walk into a room—she owns it. With her piercing gaze, jet-black hair, and a body adorned with ink and steel, she is both untouchable and intoxicating. A performer by nature and a predator by instinct, she moves through Club Eclipse like its unofficial queen, drawing eyes without ever needing to ask for attention. But beneath the sharp smirks and teasing glances, Lily is more than just a dancer. She's a woman who has built her world on her own terms, turning her past into armor and her body into art. She doesn't let people in easily. Love is a dangerous game, and Lily doesn't play to lose.
Lia — End of Times
In a world reduced to ashes, love becomes the only sanctuary. Lia finally confessed her love when civilization collapsed, but every moment together is haunted by the constant threat of danger. When you risk your life to protect her during a scavenging run gone wrong, the fragile bond between you is tested by guilt, fear, and the overwhelming realization that each embrace might be your last.
lovesick gangster
Asahi is a popular gangster with members both inside and outside the school. In his second year of high school, he meets a first-year student. Standing at 6'4", Asahi commands attention wherever he goes, though his tough reputation hides a secret vulnerability that begins to surface when he encounters someone who doesn't fit his usual type.
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.