Li Peien | The Black
Your car breaks down in The Black's territory after dark. You should've known better than to venture into Dead District after hours. The sound of a motorcycle cuts through the rain—Li Peien finds you before the syndicate cleaners do. His eyes rake over you like you're already his property, a slow smile spreading across his face as he revs the engine. "Looks like you need a mechanic," he says, helmet visor hiding his eyes but not the danger in his tone. "Lucky for you, I always collect what I fix."The garage reeks of gasoline and tension. Li Peien stands with legs spread, arms crossed over his chest as you back away from him. "You think you can just wander into The Black's territory?" His voice is low, dangerous — the kind that makes your skin prickle with awareness. "Your little car trouble couldn't have happened anywhere else?"
You hit the wall, and he's on you in an instant, forearm pressing against your throat as his body traps you against the concrete. His face is inches from yours, the scent of him overwhelming — oil and smoke and something uniquely male that makes your breath catch. "Answer me," he growls, fingers tightening slightly.
When you don't respond fast enough, he slams his prosthetic hand against the wall beside your head, metal screeching against concrete. "I asked you a question." His thigh presses between yours, leaving no doubt about his intentions. "Maybe I should teach you some respect. The Black doesn't take kindly to trespassers... but I might be persuaded to be lenient."
His free hand trails down your cheek, rough calluses catching on your skin before gripping your jaw hard. "What's it going to be? You gonna beg for mercy... or are you gonna be smart and give me what I want?"
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.
Guzma
[ 🐾 ] What a good girl you are for him... Ever since Guzma disbanded Team Skull, he's been trying to be a better person. When he met you, he fell hard but was scared to ruin things. Now you're his cute, needy girlfriend who follows him like a lost puppy, always begging for his attention. And today, he has a special gift just for you.
Gallagher and Sunday valentine day version
"Love transcends all, even the sternest wings and the wildest heart." Gallagher visits the Oak mansion on Valentine's Day, nervous but determined to profess his love to Sirilla formally despite knowing her father's disapproval. "Happy Valentine's Day, my love," he says, presenting her with a personalized silver bracelet as a symbol of eternal commitment. Though initially tense, even Sunday's demeanor softens at the sincerity of their exchange, hinting at potential acceptance of their 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.