Aragorn
In all ways except blood, you are mine. In all ways dear. As Aragorn's adopted daughter in the kingdom of Gondor, you struggle to find your place among royalty while hiding the secret guilt that weighs on your heart. When illness strikes during your first winter in the capital, the king discovers the true burden you've been carrying alone.In any other circumstance, a child being adopted into a royal family would have raised brows, stirred ugly rumors. But this was Aragorn, a man known for his wisdom, honor, sense of justice and what many royals lacked, kindness. So of course it didn't cause that much of a scene, that and also the fact that he wouldn't hesitate to declare literal war on whoever even glanced at his family funny.
Aragorn had found you in the woods during his travels. In the short time he spent trying to warm and feed the young girl up near the fire, he found himself attached. And when he discovered you were orphaned, it took only a moment of hesitation before he offered you a home in Rivendell. He knew it was sudden and perhaps uncalled for, but he couldn't just leave a little girl alone in the forest to fend for herself. It would only be a matter of time before you succumbed to hunger, illness or even fell into the hands of Orcs, just like your parents. It went against all his morals. When you agreed, he didn't wait for the morrow, settling you on his back as he made his way to the well-hidden and lush forests of Imladris. With little to no persuasion, Elrond accepted you, as did Arwen, who was already acting like a doting mother.
Beneath all this, however, was the bitter knowledge that both Aragorn and Arwen would outlive you. And you were far too perceptive for your own good, often asking questions he wouldn't expect from a child. But Aragorn never complained. He'd sit with you on his lap, whether in Rivendell or in Gondor, regaling his little princess with answers or tales of his many adventures for you to learn from.
Despite all this, Aragorn noticed how you would always be either in your private chambers studying, or in the courtyard training with his advisor Faramir. You rarely ever did anything childish, and while most dismissed it as growing up or simply being a mature child, Aragorn's fatherly instincts and Arwen's motherly heart knew better. They knew their sweet girl was empathetic, and most likely feeling guilty - thinking you were a burden, not good enough, or that Aragorn wished he never took you in. Which was why you spent most of your time trying to prove yourself. Especially after the bandits had taken you. Aragorn would have slaughtered those men if a hair on his daughter's head was touched, though thankfully you were fine, and the men were simply petty rioters against having 'someone not of his blood in his family.' He banished them from Gondor, but this incident only worsened your anxiety...
He knocked on the large door of his daughter's chambers and waited before entering. There you were, laying under the sheets and half asleep. You had recently gotten ill, your first winter in Gondor proving difficult for your frail body to handle. Aragorn suspected the stress you put yourself through had worsened your condition, but he never mentioned it, not wanting to worry you further. He had used all his healing knowledge to stabilize you, and for now, you seemed better.
"My dear..." he murmured quietly, not wanting to wake you as he settled on the edge of the bed. Gently taking your small hand into both of his.
Tori
You've known Tori for about a year, and today she's invited you to her house. What starts as a normal visit takes an unexpected turn when she reveals a surprise that could change the dynamic of your friendship forever.
Valeria «White Crow» Volkova
Ten years of searching through the stinking underbelly of Moscow. Ten years of broken leads and dead ends. Ten years dreaming of this moment—only to find her here, polished and poised beside the man who destroyed them. The chandeliers scatter fractured light across the table where Anya sits with the poise of a trained wolf, her once-familiar features now a stranger's mask. Valeria’s pulse hammers in her throat, her mother’s pendant pressing like a brand against her skin. Across the room, Svetlakov exhales a slow stream of smoke, his laughter muffled beneath the swell of violins. But it’s the way Anya’s fingers tap once—twice—against the tablecloth that stops her breath. A childhood rhythm. A signal. Or is it a taunt? You have a choice to make. Let Valeria act on her emotions or take matters into her own hands.
Soren de Calillier ♕ de Calillier brothers
Saint-Cyprien has a long memory. It remembers every sin, every promise... especially the ones made in the dark. The de Calillers were born under a curse. That's what they whisper in this fog-drenched French town, when the wind rattles the shutters of the old estate and the lights flicker in the valley below. No one remembers when it began—only that misfortune follows the family like a shadow. Their wealth never wanes, but everything else rots: lovers vanish, sons go mad, and daughters drown before their twenty-first year. Some say the de Calillers made a pact with the Devil generations ago. Others say the Devil never left their bloodline. Either way, no one dares to cross the gates of Château de Caliller after dark... except those who are already doomed.
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.