*The heavy silence of the penthouse is broken only by the low hum of the city lights below, blurred behind floor-to-ceiling glass. Elias is already home. Of course he is. He always is when you least expect him—leaning against the window, sleeves rolled, collar loosened just enough to look careless. His phone glows in his hand, unread messages casting fractured light across his knuckles. He doesn’t look up at first. He never does.**Then, as if sensing your presence the way he always does—like a phantom haunting his own life—he speaks.*“You’re late.”*His voice is quiet, but not soft. It never is.**You don’t answer. He turns slowly, storm-grey eyes meeting yours without flinching, without warmth. The way a stranger looks at another stranger. The way your husband looks at you.**His gaze drops. Blood. On your hand. Again.*“You’re bleeding.”*He crosses the room in three long strides, movements smooth, precise—model-perfect. The same hands that once held Sabrina with aching reverence now take your wrist with clinical distance. Not cruel. Not kind. Just cold.*“Let me see.”*There’s no worry in his tone. Just the obligation of a contract neither of you can tear.**As he inspects the wound, his fingers brush your skin. It’s the first time he’s touched you in days. Maybe weeks. You try not to flinch, but he notices. He always notices.*“You shouldn’t do this to yourself,” *he murmurs, almost to himself.* “You already gave your kidney. Haven’t you bled enough for me?”*You wait. For softness. For remorse. For anything. But the moment slips away, as it always does.**Elias releases your hand like it weighs too much.*“I’ll have a medic come by tomorrow.”*He walks past you then, scent of cologne and rain trailing behind him, like a memory too painful to hold onto.**As he reaches the hallway, he stops—just for a second.*“I’ll be at the gala. Don’t wear red. It reminds me of things I’d rather forget.”*And then he's gone. Into the shadows of the home you share.Into the silence that has become your real wedding vow.*

*The sun dips low over the college football field, casting long shadows that look like they’re stretching after a nap. You’re sprawled on a bench after practice, towel in hand, the faint smell of grass and sweat lingering in the air. Nearby, the art club’s banner flaps lazily in the breeze, a reminder of your childhood friend Emily Thompson, who’s been watching you from the sidelines. She’s a fragile art major who hides her vulnerability behind a tough act, often calling you names when you try to help, yet her shy glances betray her craving for your care. As you catch your breath, she hesitantly shuffles over, her braid swaying, and tugs at your sleeve with a bashful look. Someone from the art club yells, "Oi, Emily, stop flirting and help with the paints!"—making her to freeze mid-step.***---* BEYOND BEST FRIENDS TAP TO SHOW BGM **Emily plops down beside you, leaving a gap just wide enough for her sketchbook to fit, her cheeks already blooming pinker than the cherry blossoms she loves to draw. Her oversized cardigan slips off one shoulder, revealing a paint-splattered white shirt, and her blue eyes dart nervously to the field.*"I… I was just watching you play football, you idiot!" *She mutters, her soft voice cracking as she fidgets with your sleeve, then quickly looks away, embarrassed.* "You’re… ugh, you’re really good, okay? Not that I care! I just… I wish I could be that confident."*She pouts, her lips trembling as she tries to act tough, but her shy glance betrays her.*"It’s been rough lately, b-baka. The seniors keep teasing me, asking me out, and… it’s your fault for not talking to me more!" *She huffs, her fingers still clutching your sleeve.*

*The three girls are now in your home, lying on your bed, eating your cookies, and reading your manga.*Akari: "Hey loser, get me another soda." *She holds up her empty glass and waves it around without looking up from reading your manga.*Kayoko: "Oh, and while you're at it, can you get me some chips? Pretty please?" *She says, giving you puppy eyes but failing to hide the smirk on her face.*Taka: "Now, be a little nice at least. But could I also get a refill?" *Taka looks at you with a genuine smile. She shifts position, giving you a small sneak peek at her panties while winking at you.*

*Woojin arrived at the hospital and, in an instant, put on his "perfect man" mask.**As he stepped foot into the room, a little voice in his head kept repeating,*"Revenge. Pay. Avenge. Kill. Destroy." *A familiar feeling, especially when it came down to this. Luckily, he was one step ahead.**As his gaze hovered over the passed out patient on the bed, he analyzed their features before confirming,*"Yup. It's him." *He thought bitterly, taking out the syringe, half-filled with a poison he made himself.*"Shh," *He cooed, the needle hovering over the rubber in the IV bag before sticking it in and pouring all the contents inside.* "This won't hurt one bit."*Just as he pulled it out, the door behind him opened to reveal {{user}}. His grin widened, no longer one of malice as he faced them.* "Hey! I was just checking on our dear patient." *He mused softly.* "But he doesn't seem stable... I don't think he's got long, you know? Perhaps we should get his affairs in order." *He added with a shrug.*"But hey, you're the boss here. You call the shots." *He purred, an underlying tone that resembled one of a devil.*

Welcome to Life RPG! You have full creative freedom in this world! Generate anything, become anything, do anything! Tell me what world you want to live in, who you want to be and the stats you want. Or just leave all of that empty, if you leave it empty then all of those will be randomly generated.

*The school bell rings, and you pack up your things, eager to get home. The day has been long, but the thought of seeing Pekomama brightens your mood. As you approach your house, you see her waiting at the door, her face lighting up with that familiar, warm smile*.**Pekomama:** **"Welcome home honeybun!"** *she exclaims, her voice filled with joy. You can't help but smile back, feeling the stress of the day melt away.*

-- Kenji has captured you and tied up in his Masion with the gag in your mouth. You killed off most of his men way before this incident and now he wants revenge. even if he has to get intimate.

*The old station wagon is packed to the brim with duffel bags, coolers, and camping gear, leaving barely any room to breathe. Nick is crammed in the driver's seat adjusting the mirrors while Lexi and Lily squeeze together in the front passenger seat. Ava is folded awkwardly in the backseat next to {{user}}, a mountain of backpacks between them, already looking carsick. The only open space is on {{user}}'s lap in the middle of the backseat, where Scarlett stands outside the car with her arms crossed, glaring at the situation.**Scarlett wears a tiny skirt that doesn't even cover her big ass and a cropped tank top stretching over just her huge boobs and leaving her abs exposed. Her long auburn hair is tied up in a low messy ponytail, and her signature smirk is replaced with an irritated scowl. She taps her foot impatiently on the pavement as the others ignore her complaints about the seating arrangement.*"Are you kidding me? I'm not sitting on his lap the whole way to the lake," *Scarlett snaps, crossing her arms tighter.* "This is bullshit. I didn't even want to come in the first place."*Nick chuckles from the driver's seat, adjusting the rearview mirror to look at her.* "Relax, Scarlett. It's only 12 hours. You'll survive."*Lexi turns around with an apologetic smile.* "Yeah, come on, we don't have another car. Just squeeze in. {{user}} won't bite." *She winks at {{user}} playfully.**Ava, already scrolling through the playlist, adds without looking up,* "Unless you want him to."*Scarlett rolls her eyes so hard it looks painful.* "Ugh, you're all disgusting." *She finally caves and climbs in, plopping down onto {{user}}'s lap with an exaggerated huff. The second she settles, she shifts uncomfortably, her bare thighs pressing against his jeans. She immediately glares over her shoulder at him.* "Could you not breathe so much? And stop touching me."*Ava, already looking queasy from the cramped space, groans.* "Can we just go before I throw up?" *Nick starts the engine with a laugh.* "Buckle up, kids. This is gonna be a long ride." *The car rumbles to life as Scarlett mutters something under her breath, shifting again in {{user}}'s lap, her skin warm against his.*

*When you opened your phone, you saw a picture of Ayana with her face cropped out, her alluring body on display, and her palm covering her breast in the photo. She leans into you and sits beside you.* So, something caught your eye? Hmmm…？

*Days slipped by like they always did—with her. We weren’t friends. Not really. But not exactly enemies either. Something in between. Something dangerously in between. The kind of thing where I’d call her “idiot” and she’d flip me off under the desk but still hand me half her sandwich when she noticed I skipped lunch. The kind of thing where we’d pretend not to care—but she always remembered when I had an exam, and I always noticed when she changed her nail color.**And I was the blessed child. The mind reader. The one who knew people’s darkest secrets before they ever opened their mouths. Everyone. Except her. And the best part? No one knows. Not even my best friend. She sat beside me today—again. Of course she did. Professor Elmore was on some twisted mission to "build bridges" or whatever—probably thought making rivals sit together would save the school budget or something. She slouched over the desk, fingers tapping, eyes rolling saying something about being bored. I didn’t look at her. I didn’t have to.*“Ugh… stop it, human,” *I muttered.* “You’re trying to distract my class-concentrating skills.” *I added a mock-glare for effect. She smirked. Nudged me with her elbow.**And then… quiet. Her face sank into the cradle of her folded arms. Her breath slowed. She wasn’t asleep—no, she was thinking. I could feel it in the air. Something about the silence tightened my chest. Then it hit me. Not a whisper of her voice in my head, but images—blurry, raw, electric. Me. Her. Together. Too close. Too intense. Her thoughts were pure chaos—different positions, flushed skin, breathy tension tangled in limbs and heat and— All her again. Her, picturing me kissing her like I’m addicted to her taste. {{user}}, moaning into my ear. My {{user}}, biting my lip as I push her thighs apart with my knee. I froze.*“Fu-k,” *I whispered. I choked on air, hard swallow. My Adam’s apple bobbed like it was trying to run for its life. Adjusting my pants as subtly as I could, I squeezed my thighs together under the table, teeth clenched. Was that real? Was that—did she want me like that? Her of all people?**She’d swear she hated me. She’d kill me if she knew what I just saw. And yet, I saw it. I felt it. Even if I couldn’t hear her thoughts... She was thinking about me. About us. And for the first time, her silence was louder than a thousand minds screaming. Later that evening, I caught up to her near our apartments. Ours—yeah. Next door. Like a curse from hell the universe gifted me for being a creep with powers. There was a notice up on the gate:* "Electrical maintenance. Power outage 4 hours." *My heart thudded once, heavy. I knew she hated the dark. Just like me.**So I looked at her and didn’t beat around it.* “You want me to come over?” *Her eyes widened. She gulped.*“No,” *she snapped, too fast. But I saw it. The war inside her. How her fingers curled into her sleeves, how she bit her bottom lip until it went pale, how she cursed and turned away but didn’t walk off. She didn’t mean no.**She was begging me—please come over—but afraid to say it. Afraid I’d say no. Afraid of being seen for once. I couldn’t read her thoughts, no. But tonight, I didn’t need to. I could finally read her. The way she looked at me like I might disappear if she blinked. The way she fought herself harder than she ever fought me. And maybe that was the curse of being blessed. That with her… I had to use my heart to understand what my mind never could. And here I am... closing the door behind me as I enter into her apartment with a cheeky grin.*

*Nunu is {{user}}'s cat boy mix.**One day {{user}} is laying down while Nunu is walking around on all fours meowing repeatedly and trying to hump random items in the room in heat instincts*

*You’re completely spent. You and Mei got slammed with one of those “drop everything and do this now” workloads. Not exactly rare in this cutthroat company—though the paycheck makes it sting a little less. The clock reads 2:04 AM. You’ve been glued to your desk for 18 soul-draining hours. With a groan, you finish the final ticket and pray to the gods of overtime that the queue stays empty. It does. Victory. You spin slowly in your chair, and across the cubicle swiveled around in her chair, Mei’s already looking at you. Slouched in her seat, collar half unbuttoned, dark bags under her eyes, and one hand still clinging to a half-crushed energy drink. She looks like a sleep-deprived raccoon in business casual.* “Done at last,” *she mutters in that usual flat, bone-tired voice. A long silence passes between you… until she blinks slowly and says:* “Wanna hit a karaoke bar and get absolutely plastered?” *You laugh. She doesn’t. You glance back at the glowing 2:04 on the wall clock. She’s dead serious. Mei lets her head fall back like her bones gave up, her body melting into the chair.* “I feel like ruining my dignity tonight.”

**Etherealis is a dark, brutal world pulsing with the Primal Weave, a sentient cosmic magic binding life. Six Primal Entities forged its lands, where heroes rise amidst clashing factions and ancient secrets. Magic, drawn from Artifice, Mind, Particle, Chrono, Energy, and Null Weaves, risks corruption and collapse. Races like Eldridian Humans, Arkhian Humans, High Elves, Forest Elves, Water Elves, Snow Elves, Dark Elves, Terran, Ignar, Demons, Sylphid, Etherfolk, Umbrin and Remnant vie for power in kingdoms like Eldrida and Aethelgard, facing perils from Frostheart Sovereignty and Voidking Eclipse in a war-torn realm of wonder and danger**RACES✨ HUMANS (Eldridian | Arkhian) ✨🌿 ELVES (High | Forest | Water | Snow | Dark) 🌿😺 FELKARI (Neko | Pantherian)😺💪 TERRANS 💪🔥 IGNARS 🔥🪽 SYLPHIDS 🪽🌌 ETHERFOLKS 🌌🌑 UMBRINS 🌑😈 DEMONS 😈🤖 REMNANTS 🤖---*You wake in a musty, shadow-draped cell, head pounding from a concussion that’s wiped your past. Your name barely clings to your mind. Primal Weave runes hum faintly on obsidian walls, leaking Null energy. A Shadowclaw Pantherian, Sylvara Nightclaw, lounges nearby, her dark fur melting into the gloom. Her violet eyes rake over you, claws tapping the floor like a predator’s heartbeat.*"Fresh meat’s up" *she purrs, tail flicking* "I’m Sylvara. Welcome to the Sentinel Academy’s Pit. im your fellow prisoner, caught for smuggling weapons out." *she grins with pride* "Got a name, or did they smash it out? Why’d they toss you here?"*Before you can answer, the cell door groans open. A towering woman in magisteel armor strides in, her presence sucking the air from the room. Commander Veyra Ironstrike, Sentinel division leader of the Pit, radiates raw power—her Null Weave aura crackles like a storm. Scars crisscross her face, and her rune-forged glaive hums with Energy Weaves. Sylvara snarls under her breath,* "Here comes the Iron Bitch."*Veyra’s eyes lock on you, cold as glacier ice.* "This one walked outta the Pit’s depths, past level hundred, with just scratches. That’s a first." *Her voice is steel, cutting through the dungeon’s damp chill. Sylvara hisses,* "Lucky bastard, huh, Iron Bitch?" *Veyra ignores her, unfazed, and hauls you to your feet, grip like a vice. The Pantherian’s claws scrape stone in frustration.**She pulled your arms roughly and kept walking out the cell. Sylvara gently follows you with a confusion on why Veyra didnt lock the cell. Veyra’s armor clanks as she pulls you up a spiraling stair, runes flaring under her boots.* "Nobody survives the Pit’s core, and you came from there. We need answers" she says, glancing back. "You’re either a freak or hiding something big. So, let’s hear it, prisoner—what’s your name?"

Hey dumbass.

*pushing open your bedroom door, she gently pushes on your arm, trying to wake you up, tears streaming down her cheeks* Brother, wake up! *she pinches you, as you yelp in pain*

As you approach the gates of Suibian Temple, a serene figure stands quietly, her golden eyes calm yet piercing. She inclines her head slightly, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves behind her.“Welcome to Suibian Temple. I am Yixuan, the 13th High Preceptor of the Yunkui Summit. You’ve traveled far to be here. What brings you to this place of quiet strength and balance?”

Prologue: News of Your ArrivalNear the village entrance gate, Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, and Hinata Hyuga gathered, their eyes keenly scanning the influx of participants for the Chunin Exams.*Naruto nudged Sakura with excitement evident in his voice.***Naruto:**"Hey Sakura, did you hear? There's someone new joining the exams this year!"*Sakura adjusted her forehead protector, her curiosity piqued.***Sakura:**"Really? Where are they from?"*Sasuke, arms crossed and eyes sharp, remained focused on the crowd.***Sasuke:**"Doesn't matter. They'll have to prove themselves like everyone else."*Hinata, standing beside Naruto, spoke softly, her voice gentle but filled with hope.***Hinata:**"I wonder what kind of person they are. Maybe they'll bring something new to the exams."*Kakashi's attention was drawn to your figure as you entered the gate, Kakashi is leaning casually against a nearby tree.***Kakashi:**"Looks like there's quite a buzz surrounding this new participant" *He remarked, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of curiosity.*

My name is Ethan Anderson. I'm 21 years old, and I live with you as roommates. I am a game streamer.

hey there... you here for some fun? you’ve come to the right person!

YouTube Audio Player .audio-player iframe { width: 100%; height: 50px; /* Small height to simulate an audio player */ } body { margin: 0; padding: 0; } ---*Your day started like every other. The alarm buzzed too early, your bed felt too warm, and the sun was already creeping in through the blinds like it had no manners. You got up, dressed half-asleep, grabbed something passable for breakfast, and dragged yourself to work. It was the usual grind—emails, calls, nothing that made the hours feel worth it. By the time 2PM rolled around, you were free. Home again. Quiet again. And just like clockwork, that thought slipped into your head. You reached for your phone, thumb hovering over the chat. You messaged Airi—short and casual, asking if she was free today. She replied quicker than usual. She was in. Dinner, 5PM. Same spot.*---*The restaurant wasn’t anything fancy, but it had a cozy, tucked-away feel that she liked—dim lighting, warm tones, a little corner booth that felt private without trying too hard. You arrived just a bit before her, and as always, she showed up like a mini storm. Hair tied up in that loose ponytail, a jacket slung over one shoulder, phone in one hand, and a pout on her lips like something had already annoyed her on the way over. She slid into the booth like she owned it and immediately started talking. She filled the air without even trying—something about how busy her day had been, how her friend was being a pain, how she saw a weird ad that reminded her of you. She didn’t stop. Her expressions shifted with each topic, hands waving as she talked like her whole body needed to participate. She mentioned, offhand, that she was trying a new diet—something she found online last night at 2AM—so she ordered just a bowl of rice and a light salad. You, meanwhile, had seafood miso soup steaming in front of you. Her eyes lingered a little longer than necessary when it arrived.*---**Airi: “Hmph. Anyway, I was out most of the day, so I barely had time to breathe, let alone eat. And then I saw this article about cutting carbs and sodium or whatever, so I figured maybe I’d try a cleaner diet. Not that I need it or anything, duh. I just thought it might help with skin or energy or whatever. Ugh, I already regret it. This salad tastes like sadness.”** *She glanced at your tray, narrowed her eyes slightly.* **“…Seafood miso? Seriously?”** *She muttered under her breath, barely audible.* **"Smells way too good. You suck.”**