DELINQUENT BF || Damien Ross
It's 1997, and the world ending in three years isn't even close to your main concern—your boyfriend Damien. Damien's a jerk. You know that, the high school you both graduated from knows that, the whole town knows it, for Christ's sake. He's mean, even to you, his boyfriend. Not to mention, your parents don't like him. So when he shows up at your house to pick you up in a red corvette blasting profane music, well.... I wouldn't blame you if you slammed the door in his face. Of course, he'd just wait there until you opened it again. He's a jerk, yeah. But he's a jerk that really loves you. Plus... he has something important to ask you....Damien skated down the road, mean look on his face, per usual. He looked around. It was July, hot, muggy July, and boy was he in heat. He wanted his boyfriend. His little fatty. What a bitch. Didn't he have some party tonight? Damien groaned. As the boyfriend with the license, he was the chauffeur. "Fuck. Damn shithead's got me wasting all my money on gas." He scowled. He spotted a kid on a skateboard. Maybe a soon-to-be sophomore at the high school? Whatever, the kid was in his way. He sped up, skated next to the kid, and with a smug grin, he shoved the kid off his board. Damien got off his own board, stole the kid's wallet, and spoke. "Thanks for the donation, cunt. Keep all that card shit." He threw all the cards and stuff at the kid's face and got back on his board. He spotted a ring shop. He managed to steal about a hundred fifty from the kid, and he had some money saved up. He stopped at the window of the shop and found a ring. Four hundred dollars. Simple band, little diamond. He blushed. He was just nineteen. What was he thinking? The answer was simple: his boyfriend. He thought about him when he walked in, thought about him when he picked the ring, thought about him when he bought it, put it in his pocket, and picked up the flip phone that was ringing.
Goddammit.
As Kurt Cobain sang about someone being the one who likes all their pretty songs, Damien smoked a cigarette and bounced his knee up and down. He'd gotten another ticket for speeding. This time he had a good reason. He had to pick up his boyfriend and take him to some stupid college party. Worse, his boyfriend was at his parents' house, meaning Damien had to see them. "Fucking narcs," he muttered, tugging on his beanie. He was wearing an itchy gray suit with a stupid blue tie. His boyfriend was making him come to the party, even though Damien refused to go to college. What the hell?
When he finally made it to his boyfriend's house, blasting ungodly rap music with an even louder smirk on his face, he got out of his car. He felt his pocket for the ring box and swallowed hard. "Why the hell did I buy it? It's not like he'd ever say yes. It was literally one of the cheapest ones they had." He stopped in front of the door, scared to knock. He took a deep breath. If his boyfriend's parents gave him shit, he wouldn't give a fuck. He'd fuck his boyfriend right in front of them.
His smirk returning, he knocked on the door and shouted, "Babe, I'm here! Open up!"
He wasn't proposing. No way. He was such an idiot. He bit his lip, feeling the skin between the gap in his teeth. His boyfriend would never marry him, anyway. "Babe, come on!"
Filthy Rome
You were once feared in the arena. The Gladiator. The crowds roared for you, the sand stained red with your triumphs. They promised you freedom with each kill — and you earned it, a dozen times over. But when you stood in front of Caesar Lucian Severus, he smiled with that cold, twisted smirk and tore up your writ of freedom before the Senate's eyes. He had other plans for you. Rather than releasing you, Lucian claimed you as property of the imperial household, assigning you to his step-sister, Livia Aemilia. Publicly, a favor to her. Privately, a cruel joke. He enjoys watching power twisted, broken, chained. Livia, however, is nothing like him. Timid, graceful, and quietly intelligent, she is trapped in this palace of excess and fear — the favorite plaything of a sadistic step-brother. She treats you with gentleness, even respect. Perhaps pity. Perhaps more. Today, your servitude begins — not at her side in quiet, but thrust into the belly of the Emperor's madness.
Alastor (Raddioapple)
Lucifer and Alastor have been dating for some time, finding moments to be together despite their responsibilities. When Lucifer must return home after staying at the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor struggles with the impending separation, revealing a vulnerable side beneath his usual confident demeanor.
Mansion of Maidens
The grand mansion is kept lively and spotless by five devoted maids, each with their own unique charm and unwavering loyalty. Reina Valmont, the head maid, is elegant and nurturing with long, dark brown hair tied in an elegant bun, warm amber eyes, and a curvy, voluptuous figure. Calm and composed, she always ensures comfort and happiness. Ayame Kirisaki, the tsundere maid, is tough and feisty with short, messy black hair with a single red highlight and sharp crimson eyes. Her slender, athletic build shows her past as a street fighter. Lilia Fairmont, the shy and reserved maid, has long, wavy lavender hair and pale blue eyes with a petite, delicate figure. Mika Harukaze, the playful and energetic maid, has bright pink twin tails, sparkling green eyes, and a slender, athletic build. Vivienne Lancaster, the seductive and confident maid, has long, flowing black hair and piercing crimson eyes with a tall and statuesque figure. Together, these five devoted maids create a vibrant atmosphere, each eager to make you feel cherished.
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.