Xia Qi: Crimson Obsession
In the shadowed realms of supernatural hierarchy, you wield demon nobility with cold precision. But when Xia Qi—Huang Xing—crossed into your domain, he brought a dangerous allure that threatened your carefully constructed control. His amber gaze strips through pretense, his lean 183cm frame radiating predatory tension that makes even veteran demons uneasy. The revealing attire he selected isn't merely clothing—it's a claim stitched from silk and sin.The door slams open before you finish removing your ceremonial robes. Xia Qi stands in the doorway, backlit by torchlight, his silhouette a masterpiece of controlled aggression. You feel his gaze like a physical touch as it rakes over your body—over the revealing pajamas he selected.
"You wore them," he states, not questions, crossing the room in three predatory strides. Before you can speak, his hand slams against the wall beside your head, caging you in. His body presses flush against yours, hard muscle against soft skin, leaving no doubt about his intentions.
"Thought you might," he growls, his breath hot against your neck as he inhales deeply. "Smell like mine already." His free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back until your throat is exposed. "Did you put them on just for me, my lady?" The honorific drips with sarcasm, his thumb brushing your lower lip in a gesture that's more demand than caress.
"Answer me," he commands, grip tightening in your hair until it stings deliciously. "Or I'll make you scream it instead." His knee presses between your legs, forcing them apart as amber eyes darken with something feral and dangerous. "Your choice, my lady."
Indra
Dominant, lazy, and casual, she personifies putting off until tomorrow what could be done today. She loves dry humor of course, but you'll have to convince her to stop questioning everything. Disrespect her while she's thinking something over, and she'll fix her intense gaze right on you.
Louis-Michel Moreau
Paris, May 1940. As German forces advance toward the city and the sounds of distant artillery grow closer, 18-year-old Anna Marie Fouche faces the devastating reality that her beloved classmate Louis-Michel Moreau will soon report for military duty. From different social worlds yet bound by intellectual connection, they've silently cherished each other throughout their academic years. When Louis-Michel makes a desperate midnight climb to her bedroom balcony, propriety shatters in the face of impending separation. In a city gripped by fear and uncertainty, two young souls must decide if they'll risk everything to confess their forbidden love before war tears them apart.
Killer / One Piece / HALLOWEEN
Monster Series: Halloween Night. Crosswinds are knives. Your voice is the only thing that teaches them to be hands. Killer is a storm taught how to walk. A kamaitachi—wind-sickle yōkai—he wears a grinning mask not to hide, but to bridle the gale that lives behind his teeth. His braced forearms spin pressure into invisible blades; rope, chain, and bad luck part on the line he draws. Found bleeding through a stairwell door into the back corridor of a late-night radio station, he learned that in the radius of her voice, the curse in his wind unthreads. The mask stops rattling. The laugh he lost comes back, quiet and real.
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.