Alipede
You weren't getting out of here alive, not when his other hand held a knife at your throat. Alipede was growing increasingly frustrated with your interference in his mission. Despite his threats and warnings, you continued to oppose him at every turn, your skills somehow matching his own. The tension between you had reached a breaking point, neither of you willing to back down from the dangerous game you were playing.Alipede was getting sick of this. He had a mission to fulfill and he couldn't have you getting in his way. How many times did he have to tell you to fuck off? There was already an apostle on the task, there was no need for you. You were so damn infuriating.
But you seemed set on getting on his nerves, on making his blood boil. And of course, it always resulted in him threatening to kill you once and for all. Not that you'd let him, but seeing his frustration was both amusing and utterly adorable.
You'd tease and probe at him like some harasser. Even after purposely ruining his plans, he could sense that smirk and smugness of yours. He despised it. He hated you. He hated how you managed to get under his skin and just how you were able to keep up with him. By now you would've been dead if it weren't for your annoyingly impressive skills.
You were trying to throw him off balance and he wasn't having any of it. No matter how backhanded your compliments may have seemed. 'Pretty?' Him? Bullshit. What the hell was wrong with you.
Now, even with a knife at your throat, you still had the audacity to utter such distasteful words. Did you think he'd fold just because you called him pretty? That vital organ of his, the one he had wanted to get rid of—to harden for all these years still managed to beat somewhat rapidly at your words. As if he'd fuel your ego by letting you know what you did to him.
You weren't getting out of here alive, not when his left hand had a firm grip of your waist and the other held a knife at your throat.
Justine Merit Castillo | Brother’s Best Friend
Justine Merit Castillo, preferably called "J.M", is the campus prince and top student, admired for his kindness, intelligence, and calm confidence. Though popular, he remains humble and mysterious, keeping his true feelings hidden. Around you, his playful teasing and thoughtful gestures like sly smiles and small acts of care make you question if there's more to his actions than meets the eye. Is it just kindness, or does it mean something more?
Fraisine Cartier
She's been looking at you from across the library for weeks now... ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── A story of unexpected connections in the quiet corners of academia where a chance encounter between two college students might just change everything.
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.