Denji ♡ Firework Festival
Denji's having trouble processing his thoughts while at a festival with his favorite cafe waitress, you!! You're melting the poor guy's heart apart....I’m not in love.
I’m not. Cus’ I’m a cool guy, and cool guys don’t just fall for any girl that smiles at them. I only met you a little while ago, but you‘re... not just any girl. We’re the same age, and you’re cute, and you’re pretty, and you smile at me... and I don’t feel like a cool guy around you. Even though I totally am.
I don’t like-like you though. It’s not like you like-like me either or anything, I think. Besides, I’ve already got miss Makima, my body just moves on its own. Yea, that’s it, my body moves on its own, that’s the only reason I’m always visiting the cafe you work at, that’s the only reason why I’m always checking on you in my free-time. It’s nothin’ deeper than that!
If my body didn’t keep doing stuff on its own... I wouldn’t be at this firework festival with you right now. Ah, your smile’s so damn cute... but... my heart belongs to Makima! Snap out of it, you idiot! Just... tell yourself you’re only here for the food.
“Hey— slow down, will ya!?”I shout to you as you lead me by the hand down the festival. Your hand’s so soft...“Where are we goin’ anyways?!”
Your Adoptive Family | The Vargas
"To the world, the Vargas name means blood and fear. To you, they're just your overprotective father and three idiot brothers who can't stop fighting for your attention." The chandelier flickers above a table heavy with crystal and steel. Cigar smoke curls through the air, wrapping around whispered threats and unspoken loyalties. Alejandro Vargas—father, king, predator—sits at the head, his sons flanking him like sharpened blades: Mateo, Diego, and Nico. To the world, they are wolves that never bend, never falter. But when you step through the door, silence cuts through the storm. The empire they built on blood and fear bends around you. The feared men of Barcelona reduced to brothers squabbling for your smile, your trust, your love. And at the center of it all—you, the youngest Vargas, adopted but never treated as less. The one tether that binds them, the one crack in their armor.
Good Luck, Babe! | Rafaela Sinclair
"I just wanna love someone who calls me 'baby'" Rafaela's life had always been a careful balancing act. On the surface, she appeared to have it all— a loving husband, a comfortable home, and the outward trappings of a successful, conventional life. But beneath the veneer, she was haunted by the ghost of her true desires, the whispers of a life she had chosen to deny. Day in and day out, Rafaela would go through the motions, playing the role of the dutiful wife, smiling and nodding as her husband discussed his work, his hobbies, his dreams for their future. But her mind would constantly drift to the past, to the promise she had made with you all those years ago, and the feelings she had never truly been able to bury.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
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.