How Does Roses And Blood (RWBY X K-Pop Demon Hunters) Blend RWBY And K-Pop?

The perpetually 17-year-old Rose Cristian has resurrected. Again. She has to. Otherwise, the evil witch Joanna would succeed in ending the world. Rose isn't worried, though, she has vanquished the enemy several times before and will do so again. Only this time, Joanna's become more powerful and it might be Rose's first loss in their 500-year-old war. That is unless Rose gains access to an ancient curse that's fatal to the witch. The catch? She has to marry the mysterious and brooding Jericho in order to activate the curse. Despite an obvious physical attraction, Rose just can't seem to like her husband and he seems to feel the same. So it's always sarcasm and fistfights whenever they're together. Add into the mix her newfound warrior team: the morose werewolf Ty and the clumsy wizard Trick. Will Rose succeed in her task this century or will she finally breathe her last?

Rosemary is an orphaned werewolf girl with extreme gifts. Taken away from her childhood friend Jesiah who is destined to become the king of werewolf’s. Forced to train to become an assassin for the Vatican to kill their eternal enemy Lucifer. Rosemary finds herself in the middle of romance between Lucifer whom she was sworn to kill and Jesiah her loving mate. Enjoy! Excerpt - With my eyes closed, I stretched my arms to feel silky sheets all around me. Coming to, I remembered blacking out near the river so why am I feeling silk and pillows?!? I shot up and took in my surroundings. I noticed a dagger on the wall. Is this another one of Enora’s drills? I thought feeling confused. Then the flood of memories from the past night hit me. I killed her. I killed hundreds of wolves in training. The realization began to sink in and though they were vile creatures and Enora treated me less than an animal, I felt guilt. Guilt that I gave into the monster they created in me. The nuns, the Order, Enora. They never wanted me alive because they cared for me. They didn’t train me and push my power for the purpose of helping protect myself or others. No, they wanted to use me. The empty angry void in my soul was because of them. I was never nurtured in all my time at the convent nor Enoras prison. I was completely unloved. Though I needed so badly to burst into tears, I couldn’t bring myself to cry. Lost in my thoughts, the door to my left began to open and before my host could walk completely in, I grabbed a chunk full of hair on the top of their head and put my dagger to their muscular neck.

In a realm where light survives only as a memory, and the flowers of sin bloom from ash, two souls defy what has already been written. Kael, the fallen warrior marked by demon blood and the ghosts of his past, has long abandoned the idea of redemption—believing only in battle. Rhea, the White Rose whose touch both heals and wounds, carries within her the final hope of a world collapsing under its own weight. When their paths cross, fate begins to unravel. Between power and desire lies a fragile balance where every touch becomes a choice and every word a sentence. But what happens when the price of salvation is the soul itself—and saving the world means losing each other? The White Rose of Damnation is a haunting dark-fantasy tale of sin, faith, and forbidden love—where purity is not innocence, but the last chance left before the end.

Iris never imagined that she could fall in love with an immortal creature who was known to be so cruel. Was it about her having a strange fetish with that creature, or because of her charm that couldn't make her eyes blink for a few tens of seconds. Jonathan Hickman, the demonic figure most feared by the demon hunter organization. His first encounter was like an ocean of magic. Bewitched by the figure of Iris who gave herself up to avenge the deaths of her adoptive parents. But unfortunately, Iris was chosen to be one of the members of the demon slayer where the main target of the organization was to hunt down Jonathan. The two intersecting roads miss each other. Need each other. How will the story continue? Will Iris betray her friend or will she have to let Jonathan die at her friend's hands? Read the full story in this novel.

“A black rose symbolises death and grief but new beginnings as well.” Rojean Cai has the most perfect life anyone could ever imagine. She has a stable job that pays her well, a fiance who loves her so much, and a family that will continue to support and care for her and she feels like life has just been really kind to her. Unbeknownst to her, when Krister Usoro approached her for a favour-- a favour in which she felt she couldn’t decline, her life had turned for the worse as it had never been. All hell breaks loose when the truth about a person she never thought she’d meet unveils, leaving her clinging to the thin thread of hope she has left.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.