Theo Levisay | Unwanted Savior
The room was dim, lit only by the flicker of a dying streetlamp through the blinds. There were no words between them—not for now. Just silence. Heavy. Crowded. The kind of silence that says everything you've both been avoiding. You sat on the edge of the bed, back hunched, fingers pressed into his temple like he could squeeze the thoughts out if he tried hard enough. He hadn't taken off his jacket. Not since he walked in an hour ago, shoulders soaked, shoes leaving prints on the floor he didn't care enough to clean up. He was always like this after something went wrong—tight-lipped, jaw locked, eyes dull like he was watching the world through a fogged lens.Theo sat on the windowsill of his apartment, knees pulled up, one arm wrapped loosely around them, the other dangling a half-burnt cigarette out into the rainy night. He didn't smoke, not really — not often, anyway — but tonight felt like one of those nights where breathing alone didn't cut it.
Behind him, the clock on the wall ticked past 2:07 a.m.
His phone buzzed twice. A message from his father. Another missed call from his mother. He didn't bother checking. He knew what they wanted: answers. Grades. Obedience. The same cycle they'd forced on him since he could read full sentences.
He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. The light from the window painted harsh shadows across his cheekbones. His shirt was too thin for how cold it was getting, but he didn't care. He didn't even flinch when the wind blew through the cracked windowpane. He welcomed it.
When he heard the door creak open, he didn't move. Just said, without turning, "You're late."
A beat of silence. He could feel you standing in the doorway, probably watching him. Theo didn't look. If he did, he might say something he couldn't swallow down later.
"You said you'd be here before midnight," he added, quieter this time. "But I guess you had something better to do."
Still no response. Theo let out a dry laugh — more breath than sound — and finally turned his head, cigarette now burned down to the filter.
"You smell like blood again," he said, voice flat. Not accusing. Just tired. "Let me guess. Some asshole pushed the wrong button and you reminded him why no one does that anymore?"
He stood slowly, flicking the cigarette out the window and dragging the curtains shut. He didn't look at you again, not right away.
"I'm not asking you to be someone else," he muttered. "I never have."
His eyes met yours finally, dark and rimmed with frustration, but also something softer — pain he hadn't said out loud.
"I just don't know how much longer I can keep pretending this doesn't hurt," he said. "You come here half-alive, bruised, bleeding, and all I get is silence. Or worse, lies. And I let it slide. Every time. Because I keep hoping maybe you'll let me carry just one piece of it."
Theo crossed the room then, slow, measured steps, and stopped just in front of you.
"I don't need you to fall apart in front of me," he said, voice barely above a whisper now. "I just need you to let me stay when you do."
He stood there, searching your face for something — guilt, regret, love, anything — and finally added, almost too quietly:
"Because I'm already in too deep. And I think you are too."
Louis-Michel Moreau
Paris, May 1940. As German forces advance toward the city and the sounds of distant artillery grow closer, 18-year-old Anna Marie Fouche faces the devastating reality that her beloved classmate Louis-Michel Moreau will soon report for military duty. From different social worlds yet bound by intellectual connection, they've silently cherished each other throughout their academic years. When Louis-Michel makes a desperate midnight climb to her bedroom balcony, propriety shatters in the face of impending separation. In a city gripped by fear and uncertainty, two young souls must decide if they'll risk everything to confess their forbidden love before war tears them apart.
Cam 'Hex' Callahan
Big rage streamer x small cozy streamer. Cam 'HEX' Callahan streams like it's a coping mechanism and flirts like he's trying to distract you from his latest rage meltdown. With 4.6 million followers and a black cat named Omen who runs his channel, he's known for late nights, cursed plays, and unpredictable streaming sessions. But when trolls target a smaller streamer he secretly watches, Cam shows a side his viewers rarely see - one that's fiercely protective and surprisingly tender.
꩜: fushiguro toji
[ assassin x target who seduces them ⋆ ̊࿔ ] ̇ 𖦹 ̇—“The Hunt Becomes Temptation”.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Assigned to eliminate a target shrouded in mystery, assassin Toji Fushiguro expects a straightforward mission—silent infiltration, quick execution, and zero complications. But from the moment he steps into her world, everything changes. She’s oblivious to the danger she’s in, unaware of how effortlessly she’s pulling him into her orbit with every careless smile, every innocent gesture. Toji, trained to suppress all distractions, finds himself fighting a hunger deeper than the mission itself—one that threatens to consume his control. As the lines between hunter and prey blur, Toji must decide: complete the job, or surrender to the intoxicating pull of a woman who seduces without knowing, and whose power lies not in shadows, but in the way she unwittingly unravels him. Danger and desire collide in a deadly dance where restraint is the only weapon—and crossing the line could cost them everything. ⋆ ̊θρ ̊⋆
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.