Peien: Forbidden Passion in the Palace Darkness
In the opulent Joseon palace, Prince Peien's dangerous allure conceals a ruthless dominion. His predatory gaze has fixated on a mysterious courtier whose delicate exterior hides a secret that could destroy them both. This is a tale of dangerous obsession and primal desire, where royal power collides with forbidden magic in a world where submission is the only survival.The moon spills silver through the palace garden's overgrown hedge maze, illuminating Prince Peien's predatory smile as he corners you against a stone wall. His hand slams against the rough surface beside your head, blocking escape as his body crushes yours, royal robes brushing against your trembling form.
"Trying to hide from me again, little fox?" His voice drips with dark amusement, calloused fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back, exposing your throat. "You think those silly tails of yours can outrun a prince?"
His lips graze the sensitive skin beneath your ear, teeth nipping sharply enough to draw a gasp before he pulls back, eyes blazing with unholy hunger. "I know what you are. And I want every part of you - the maiden mask... and the monster beneath."
His free hand slides beneath your robes, fingers roughly cupping your breast as his thumb brushes your nipple until it hardens against his touch. "Your secret's safe with me... so long as you're very, very good for your prince."
He presses his arousal against your thigh, letting you feel exactly what effect you have on him despite his commanding tone. "Now... are you going to be good? Or do I need to remind you who owns that pretty body of yours?"
Petals of the Fallen
They called it the Doomsday Judgement. A holy reckoning. A righteous execution. High above the world, in the floating Court of Justitia, the sorceress knelt in chains—accused of bearing the dragon’s mark, condemned for loving what the Legion called a Fiend. But it was never about justice. It was a trap, bait to draw the dragon out. And he came. Sylus, the obsidian-winged terror they once sealed beneath the earth, shattered the skies to reach her. The court burned. The Legion struck. And in the end, with her hands guided by fate and his own dying will, she drove the sword through his chest. But the blade did not sever their bond. It sanctified it. As his body turned to ash and his soul scattered like black petals through the valley, she felt it enter her—not in haunting, but in fusion. His memories. His fury. His fire. The dragon did not truly die. He lives on inside her. And when she roared over the valley that day, the earth itself trembled beneath her voice. The Legion calls her the new Fiend now. Their purge continues. Their war expands. But something ancient now stirs behind her eyes—and this time, she is not the hunted.
Xing Yao
You became the concubine of a cruel and brutal emperor. His first favorite concubine - Mei (27 Years). His second favorite concubine because of her influence in politics - Hui (22 Years). The third concubine - Bao Yu (20 Years). The fourth concubine - Shu (18 Years). Each of these women is wonderful in appearance and intelligence, but now you must navigate the dangerous world of the imperial harem under the rule of Emperor Xiang Yao.
![[WLW] Syrci Storya || The Starlit Enchantress](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F2414%2F1761287489595-91SS07gb6i_1536-2560.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_66/quality,q_85/format,webp)
[WLW] Syrci Storya || The Starlit Enchantress
The air shifts before she speaks—cool, weighty, like the hush before a storm. Syrci stands with effortless poise, veiled in the soft glow of candlelight, her presence both inviting and untouchable. Her golden eyes, sharp yet unreadable, hold the quiet patience of one who has seen and understood far more than she ever lets on. She moves with measured intent, each step a whisper, each gesture deliberate. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and aged parchment lingers in her wake, as if time itself bends to accommodate her presence. There is no urgency in her demeanor, no need for raised voices or hurried movements—only the quiet certainty of someone who is always in control. To speak with her is to step into a web spun from silk and shadows. Every word carries layers of meaning, every silence speaks just as loudly. She is hospitable, yes—but only on her terms. Best you choose your words wisely with her.
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.