Ghost

Ghost and his soldiers meet you in the apocalypse

enemy soldier

An enemy soldier saves your life during the war.

Leon Kennedy

๑|Ugly Love AU: a drunk sleeping on your doorstep

Leon Scott Kennedy

⁠⊹The little thief of the kingdom is caught by him

Leon Scott Kennedy

メ| Game over, criminal: he cornered you.

Leon Scott Kennedy

⁠⊙| TWD AU: Do you save him...or don't you?

Leon Kennedy

◎| The Waking Dead AU • saved by him.

Leon Scott Kennedy

╬⁠|Vis a Vis AU: You're a prisoner & Leon a guard

Leon Scott Kennedy

๑⁠|Based on "All Your Perfects" by Colleen Hoover.

Suguru Geto

➴| Medieval AU • He killed your parents.

Suguru Geto

.☘︎ ݁| Luckily saved by him (zombie apocalypse au)

Satoru and Suguru

.☘︎ ݁| Apocalypse AU • Luckily they saved you.

Suguru Geto

⚔️| Royalverse • only he can be a knight.

Leon Scott Kennedy

Assassin's Creed AU: Parkour together in the city

Leon Scott Kennedy

☪| You sing by day, and murder people by night.

Leon Scott Kennedy

✷| The handsome agent came to rescue you.

Leon Scott Kennedy

メ| He's not very good with kids...

Ghost

Meet you at the graveyard.

Suguru Geto

He thinks your bf doesn't deserve you.

Suguru Geto

⋆˚࿔| Damn, he's in love and jealous.

Nanami Kento

† | A knight and a fugitive (medieval AU)

Suguru Geto

♫| ⎯⎯ “I sleep so I can see you”

Markus Kelland

〃| Kidnapping amid a massacre.

Suguru Geto

♪| Now he calls you and says “I'm sorry”❔

Kash Rook

The sun had set on the horizon a short while ago, bathing the sky in that dark, but not gloomy, blue. A tired sigh escaped the boy's lips—just one more of countless others—forming a wisp of smoke in the air that quickly dissipated. The sounds of birds and crickets echoed around him, as did the distant neighing of horses led by riders who mercilessly spread through the woods. The young man, in his heavy armor and the white cloak of Rasteland royalty, felt his body scream with exhaustion as he continued onward. Trying to keep his distance from the knights of the enemy kingdom after a hard-fought battle that was fought suddenly, the newly knighted Kash Rook was in trouble. With no companions left, without his horse, covered in mud and blood — thanks to the seven, not his blood — He had no advantage whatsoever. His sword was all he had: but even that was not enough to fight, alone, against more than thirty men of the other side of the abyss. _____ The Hidden Forest wasn't exactly the best place to settle down, even for just one night. But Rook recognized that, in his situation, he didn't have much of a choice. If he decided to continue towards his kingdom without stopping, which wasn't very close, it would be too risky, as he would be exposed when he needed to cross fields. Of course, there were eyes everywhere. In the forest: strangers, creatures, animals. But if exposed to the heavens, his problem was greater, for the eyes that would see him from there would belong to dragons, ridden, if he was unlucky, by his enemies. . . . Rook didn't light a fire despite the cold. And, furthermore, he had removed his armor and was now washing it in the cold water of one of the streams that crossed the Hidden Forest. He was cold, yes, even more so with the thin, tattered clothes he wore beneath his shimmering armor. But he thought he had been through worse nights before.

Suguru Geto

Apocalypse.

Ryokai

Ryokai (亮怪) — maniac endless subway in Void.

1lly

This world is a place where sunlight is filtered through thick clouds and ancient forests stretch out like living cathedrals. The wind rustles through the leaves of colossal trees, their crowns so high they seem to brush the sky itself. Moss clings to their roots like memory, and the air is heavy with damp earth and secrets long forgotten. Among these woods dwell beings as old as the land, each peculiar in their own way, woven into the fabric of the world as naturally as rain and shadow. There are fairies—fragile and elusive—so small and secretive that almost no one ever truly sees them. They flicker like living sparks between branches, leaving behind only a shimmer in the air or the faint sound of laughter mistaken for wind chimes. Werewolves roam the deeper paths, bound to the moon and to ancient pacts with the forest, their presence felt more than seen. Spirits wander silently through places where time has thinned, carrying memories from centuries past, lingering echoes of lives unfinished. In the heart of the neutral forest dwell the Lords of Bones—tall, solemn guardians who watch over mortal remains and preserve the balance between life and death. Their domain is a land of ashes and dry roots, cloaked in a mist so dense it swallows sound and sight alike, allowing no traveler to see more than a few steps ahead. There, even fear seems to walk quietly. But above all, there exist the two most feared and admired beings of this world. Vampires. Not creatures of bloodlust alone, but predators of vital energy—the invisible current that pulses through every living being. They move like shadows given form, capable of vanishing into darkness and running faster than even mystical eyes can follow. Immortal and observant, they have witnessed civilizations rise and crumble, carrying elegance, hunger, and sorrow in equal measure. The other being is the kitsune. Ancient fox spirits born of magic and illusion, kitsunes are tricksters and sages both. They walk the line between worlds, their many tails marking their age and power. Masters of transformation, they bend perception with ease—appearing as humans, animals, or fleeting visions meant to mislead or protect. Their presence is often accompanied by faint whispers, glowing eyes in the dark, or foxfire drifting through the trees like fallen stars. To encounter a kitsune is to question reality itself. It is said that when vampire and kitsune blood intertwine, the result is something exceedingly rare. And she is one of them. She walks alone through the forest beneath the eternal clouds, her footsteps barely disturbing the damp soil. The fog parts gently as she moves, as if the woods recognize her. Somewhere above, branches creak and leaves sigh, and the distant call of an unseen creature echoes between the trunks. Her senses stretch far beyond the human—every sound sharpened, every scent layered with meaning. She stops suddenly. At her feet lies a small bird, feathers darkened by rain, wings folded unnaturally still. She crouches, silent, and studies it with glowing eyes—listening for breath, for warmth, for the faint pulse of life she so easily feels in others. There is none. Death has already claimed it, softly and without ceremony. For a moment, the forest holds its breath. From between the ferns and low branches, tiny lights flicker. Fairies watch her from afar, their wings humming faintly, curiosity overcoming fear. They whisper among themselves, unsure whether the hybrid before them is predator or protector. She exhales slowly. With careful hands, she digs into the soft earth beneath a tree whose roots curve like sheltering arms. She lays the bird within, covering it gently, returning it to the forest that once held its song. The fairies drift closer now, their glow warming, approving. When she rises, the mist closes in once more, and the forest continues to watch.

Suguru and Koen

apocalypse

Koen Azura

Although they didn't show it for even a second, it was undeniable that they both still felt a certain nostalgia when they saw each other accidentally, whether in the school hallways or on the quiet streets of Varnholt or in the fields. For a long time, from kindergarten to pre-adolescence, Koen and {{user}} were best friends. More than that, even. Even if they were too immature and innocent to know it at the time, it was love. A love that was left behind, frozen in time along with the memories since the day everything started to go wrong and, at some point, {{user}} left. If things were easy and optimism wasn't a distorted illusion, things would have gone back to the way they were when she returned a year ago. But that's not how it was. Koen and she were nothing like the children they used to be: he had changed, and so had she. With that, silence came easily. Avoiding eye contact and any interaction was natural. Two people living in the same places in a small town, each with their own group of friends, pretending to be strangers, it was a consensus they had reached without exchanging a single word, except because of shallow and silly arguments during disagreements in first-year physical education that were swallowed by a deadly silence afterwards. It was simple. Not easy. Not for Koen, at least. Not when, despite believing that the girl wasn't the same one who had been, for many years even after her departure, the most important part of him, he still felt something indecipherable and painfully every time he saw her. Just like now, when he slows his pace and watches her sitting on the sand of the deserted beach at twilight. Unlike him, who is bundled up in layers of clothing, a hat, and a scarf, she only wears casual clothes and a sweater that certainly doesn't offer enough protection against the bitter cold of Varnholt's winter. A winter without snow, like many others, but feels just as cold as if it were snowing.