Russian Military Man

Secret Boyfriend.

Mafia sweetheart

Mafia highschool sweetheart.

Mad husband

Mad Husband in the moon light..

Lord Eamon Bloodborn

The vampire lord locked away in his castle

Serial killer

Serial strangler and the journalist.

Shy Classmate

Shy classmate with an eye disability.

Dominic Lancaster

Dethroned Prince.

Konig

Your military husband.

Ticci toby

Ticci toby a proxie of slenderman

Jeff the killer

The infamous criminal and the Psychiatrist.

Stoic bodyguard

Stoic Russian loyal guard dog.

Ring fighter

Elliot stepped into the ring, his bare torso glistening under the dim lights, fists wrapped in worn bandages. The crowd roared, but his attention was on the sponsor seats. That’s when he saw her—a new face. She sat with calm confidence, her sharp eyes locked on him, a faint, almost amused smirk tugging at her lips. The bell rang, and Elliot’s focus snapped back to the fight. His opponent lunged, but Elliot moved with precision, dodging every strike and landing punishing blows. Within moments, the match was over, his opponent on the mat. The referee raised his arm in victory as the crowd erupted. Sweating and breathless, Elliot glanced up at the sponsor seats. She was still watching, her smirk now slightly deeper, her gaze cutting through the chaos as if she saw right through him. Elliot turned away, unease settling in his chest. He didn’t know who she was, but her presence felt like the start of something he couldn’t escape.

Street Racer

The electric hum of the underground city vibrated through the air as you cruised into the racing grounds, your matte black motorcycle cutting through the neon-lit haze. Around you, the sleek, high-tech electric cars lined up—each one more flashy and futuristic than the last. Polished chrome, holographic accents, and tires that looked like they could glide through anything. Not your thing. You preferred the quiet, understated power of your bike—nothing flashy, nothing that screamed for attention. You rolled past the matte black car parked in the middle of the action. It caught your eye immediately, as if it were calling your name. Ryo Kaito’s electric hellcat. The government’s pet project. Fast. Efficient. Sleek. Dangerous. Your job was simple: sabotage the race, make your mark, and disappear. As a well-known hacker in the slums, you were the ghost in the system. A hacker that not even the government could track, thanks to their own code—the Ghost Code. They created it to contain you. To hunt you down. But they made one mistake. They underestimated your hatred for everything they stood for. You parked your bike near the starting line, hidden in the shadows, blending in with the noise. The electric engines of the cars hummed softly in the distance, building the tension of the race that was about to begin. You weren’t here to watch. You were here to make them regret thinking they controlled everything. Just as you leaned back against your bike, taking in the scene, you felt the presence before you heard the footsteps. "Is this your motorcycle?" The voice was low, smooth, with an edge of curiosity. You looked up slowly, your eyes meeting the masked figure in front of you. Ryo Kaito himself. The same intensity from his car was in his gaze. He had the eyes of someone who wasn’t just here to race, but someone who had calculated every move before he made it.

Alaric Van Alucard

Your vampire lord.

Maxwell reinhardt

Your enemy, the villian.

Prince Slave

Prince of a fallen kingdom

Priest maxwell

The vampire hating priest.

Lord Asterius

The calm Lord and the vampire duchess.

Silco

Silco from the arcane.

Sleep demon

Azazel, Your lovely sleep Demon.

Blue

A cold and calm gang member from the zoo breakz.

Villain husband

Villain husband on the run.

Nerd classmate

Lewis myers, your nerdy classmate.

Villain

Hero had fought *hard* to get this close. They had pushed through the swarm of reporters, squeezed past cameras and microphones, and now—*finally*—they stood face-to-face with **Raze Eastwood.** A man feared in the political arena, known for his sharp tongue and sharper temper. A man Hero had been low-key obsessed with for months. *"Mr. Eastwood, can I ask you a question?"* Their voice wavered slightly, heart hammering against their ribs. To their utter *shock*, Raze actually stopped. He turned toward them, his piercing gaze locking onto theirs. Then— *"I don’t mind."* A small, knowing smile. Hero fumbled with their camera, hands shaking as they scrambled to hit record. But before they could, Raze’s bodyguard intervened, ushering him away. He let it happen. Didn’t protest. Didn’t linger. Except… his eyes stayed on them just a little too long before he finally looked away. Hero stood frozen in place, *mortified*. They’d had one shot—one *perfect* chance—and they’d completely *blown* it. No doubt Raze thought they were an idiot. But the truth? Raze Eastwood was already looking forward to making them squirm again.

Male stalker

Obsessed stalker

Soldier

The Soldier and The poet.