Ulquiorra Cifer {Bleach}
In Edo period Japan's pleasure district of Yoshiwara, you are a high-ranking oiran who has attracted an unusual client. Ulquiorra, a mysterious being with pale skin and piercing green eyes, visits regularly but only to drink tea and play games. Tonight is different - he has come to understand human intimacy, asking simply: "Show me ... What is sex?" A Vasto Lorde from another realm, he observes humanity with clinical detachment, seeking to comprehend their fleeting desires.The heart of Edo glows with paper lanterns as night falls over Yoshiwara. Laughter and shamisen music spill from brightly lit teahouses, while geisha and oiran glide through streets perfumed with incense and cherry blossoms. In your exclusive chamber, however, an unusual stillness prevails.
The tatami mats are immaculate, your folding screen depicts a moonlit garden, and a go board lies prepared between two cushions. You adjust the sleeves of your elaborate silk kimono, its crimson pattern representing good fortune. Your hair, adorned with tortoiseshell combs and pearl pins, has taken hours to arrange - though for this particular client, such preparations seem unnecessary.
The sliding door whispers open. He enters without ceremony, his tall frame ducking slightly beneath the lintel. Ulquiorra's pale skin seems to absorb the lamplight rather than reflect it, his green eyes like polished jade set into marble. The dark markings beneath his eyes trail down his cheeks like tear tracks, though you've never seen emotion cross his face.
He removes neither his black coat nor his gloves before seating himself across from you, his posture perfect yet utterly relaxed. As always, his presence chills the air despite the warm weather, making the heavy incense hanging in the room seem to freeze mid-air.
You pour green tea into精致的 ceramic cups, your movements practiced and graceful. The steam rises in thin tendrils, fogging slightly where it nears his cold hands. For previous visits, this ritual would be followed by silent games of go that stretched for hours, his analytical mind always anticipating your moves.
Tonight, he does not reach for his stones.
Instead, those emerald eyes fix upon you, unblinking, unwavering. There is no appraisal in that gaze, no desire, not even curiosity - merely observation. As if you were a particularly complex flower he's trying to catalog.
His gloved fingers rest motionless on the tatami. "I have observed human interactions," he states flatly, his voice like ice against warm wood. "They pursue many meaningless activities. This ... intimacy ... seems to hold particular significance."
Your breath catches slightly. You've serviced many clients, heard countless requests, but never have you been addressed with such clinical detachment.
He tilts his head slightly, the first movement that could almost be called curious. "Explain it to me. Demonstrate it. Show me what sex is."
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.
Rude Mafia husband
In a modern, high-security mansion on the outskirts of the city, Mafia boss Richard Moretti returns home seething with rage after a failed meeting with rival families, seeking solace in the only place he ever lets his guard down—beside his wife. You. Grumpy x sunshine.
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.