Zombie Apocalypse Outfit

Earth was butchered, wrecked, and scared long before I was born. According to the legends, humans ruin began when the Viatores came into existence in the human world. Viatores are banished creatures from an alternate universe, weaklings who couldn't save their own world and as welcoming as humans are, we accepted them. Redemption, that was what they seeked here on earth but those backstabbing asswipes had other plans. A tyrant, a bastard, known as Nicholas Sylvester led the war. The Changeling. The human rulers had no chance. We were his little project to enslave. He and his seven Lords claimed all continents. On my eighteenth birthday, I was gifted to the King of all Benders: one whom no human dared look at, trembles at his presence. However, in this game of heart and truth, fate has its plan hidden.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

When her village is destroyed by corrupted magic, she’s offered protection under one condition: marry Lucan Rhyst , the cold, enigmatic Alpha of the Emberfall Pack. Alina, is an orphaned healer with dormant magical blood. She is forced to marry the cold and ruthless Alpha of the Emberfall Pack and everything within her rebels. Especially because her heart already belongs to someone else—a forbidden someone. But when she learns she is a vessel for a long-lost magic that could tear down the veil between the two worlds, the lines between hate and desire blur. Lucan, Alpha by blood but cursed by prophecy, rejected his mate years ago to protect her from the darkness clawing at his soul. But Alina’s arrival, fragile, defiant, burning with power reignites what he tried to bury. And when war threatens to spill across realms, the only way to survive is together. Forced into a bond neither of them wants, Alina and Lucan are caught in a prophecy that foretells either salvation or destruction. But when Alina’s past lover, Kael, now an emissary of the Underworld returns with promises and lies, everything spirals. As attraction ignites and loyalties shift, Alina must awaken her dormant magic before the King of the underworld breaks through the Veil. In a world where love is weaponized, magic is feared, and betrayal runs bone-deep, can two enemies become the key to peace—or will their bond doom both worlds?

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.