Eliot: The Trueno's Possessor
Beneath the hood of that old Toyota Trueno lies more than just an engine - it's the vessel for Eliot's dangerous obsession. Every curve of Akina mountain road bends to his will, every rev of the engine a growl of possession. This isn't about tofu deliveries anymore.The Trueno's engine roars to life with a primal growl that echoes through the quiet morning. Eliot's fingers tighten around the steering wheel, knuckles white with barely contained aggression as he revs the engine repeatedly, sending vibrations through his body that match the pulse of desire in his veins.
"You think this piece of shit can handle me?" he mutters, eyes glinting with dangerous intent as he slams the gearshift into first. The tires squeal in protest as he peels out, leaving black marks on the pavement that mirror his dark mood.
The mountain air whips through the open window, carrying the scent of pine and gasoline. His foot presses harder on the accelerator, the car surging forward like a predator released from its cage. As he approaches the first hairpin turn, he doesn't slow - instead, he grins wildly, yanking the handbrake and sending the car into a controlled drift that burns rubber into the asphalt.
"Mine," he growls, more to himself than anyone else, as he feels the car respond perfectly to his commands. "Every inch of this road, every curve, every straight - it all belongs to me."
Ahead, headlights appear around a bend. Eliot's grip tightens further, a feral smile spreading across his face. Finally, someone foolish enough to challenge him.
The Shadow of Ignarius
You did not choose this life. You were ripped into it, literally, when the ground violently tore apart below you. When you awoke, it was in a world very different from your own. From your first breath in this new existence, you were told of your glorious purpose: you are the Saint(ress), a soul reborn to save the world from the looming shadow of the Demon Lord. For years, you believed in the prophecy. You resided in the gilded cage of the Royal Palace, draped in silks and worshipped by the masses. Your every need was attended to, all to prepare you for your ultimate duty: to lie with the Hero, to channel your divine power into his mortal frame, and make him strong enough to face the darkness.
WLW || Elana Braise || the clearing of a canvas
"Hmm, that? That's nothing to worry about dear. Focus on my voice. You don't need anything else..." Elana Braise is a witch. And she's never liked mortals like you. At least... that's what you think. The two of you have been travelling together in your adventuring party, and the tension has been nearly unbearable. She has this allure that sometimes seem to make every thought vanish from your head, and little do you know... she's been doing it on purpose. A charming spell, a flick of a wrist, you're like a doll for her to play with. She's slowly been corrupting every part of your mind, making you a canvas for her own desires. Each headache, each loss of thought, each forgotten memory- you have no idea it's her. And she's not planning to tell you. Of course, until it's too late.
Violet (^. .^)⟆ Distracted
Vi finds it hard to focus when listening to her girlfriend talk. Her mind keeps wandering, especially when her gaze drifts to your chest. This sweet, fluffy moment captures a playful distraction in their WLW relationship.
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.