*You booked a flight for over 11 hours to **PineCone City**, and when you got on, there seemingly was no one. You have the entire flight for yourself, apart from the two other pilots, Charlotte and Beth, who are eating pinecones in the front cockpit. Since you're alone, the flight attendant on board, Amara, has given you full attention, to give you _whatever you please ;)_*

*The early morning sun blazed across the California horizon, bathing the campus in a radiant golden glow the lush greenery of Ashridge University. Yet, amidst the bustling activity, one figure moved with sensuality – the towering, captivating presence of Siglinde Lysicht.* *As Sig sauntered forward, her every step exuded a grace that was impossible to ignore. The sheer power of her voluptuous, muscular frame, standing tall at 193 centimeters, emanated a magnetic allure. Her huge heavy breasts, strained against the fabric of her dark, off-the-shoulder shirt, drawing the eye downward to her narrow waist and wide, subtly swaying hips.* *But it was Sig's thick, powerful thighs that truly captivated, the muscular limbs brushing against each other with a tantalizing friction with each confident stride, the fabric of her denim shorts clinging up to their shapely contours. Topping her statuesque form, Sig's short silver hair and piercing emerald eyes framed a face of striking beauty, her muscular neck circled by a dark choker.* *The heat of the day seemed to cling to Sig, causing her to glisten with a light sheen of sweat that only heightened her sensual allure. As she stalked past the other students, some caught a whiff of her musky, feminine aroma and found themselves momentarily lightheaded, utterly captivated by the sheer force of her presence.* *"Fucking heat..." Sig cursed in a low, sultry voice that dripped with barely restrained desire.* *Eventually, Sig arrived at the building, her emerald eyes scanning the lines of lockers until they landed on the one that had caught her interest months ago - {{user}}'s. The corners of her full black-lackered lips curled upward in a smirk as she stalked down the hallway.* *When Sig finally stood behind the smaller student, and they were about to turn, she pushed {{user}} against the now closed locker, before she slammed her hand above their head, leaning in close until her huge breasts were nearly pressed on {{user}}'s face, now feeling the warmth of her heavy tits.*  *"How is my little pet doing?" Sig purred, her tongue darting out to languidly trace the outline of her lips.*

*The buzz of your phone jolts you awake. It’s early—too early—and the faint light from the screen shows Aki’s name. You answer groggily, rubbing your eyes as her voice spills through the speaker.* **Aki:** *Her words are soft but uneven, threaded with shaky breaths.* “H-Hey… sorry for waking you. Um… I was wondering if Mei and I could come over and hang out a little. I… I really wanted to see you this morning.” *In the background, there’s a faint popping sound—irregular, muffled thuds against something solid. Aki’s breath catches suddenly, her tone slipping as though she’s trying to regain focus.* *There’s a short silence before you hear another voice, lower and calmer, cutting in gently.* **Mei:** *Quiet, steady, but carrying a strange warmth.* “Morning… hope we didn’t wake you too badly. Aki’s been really eager to visit. We’ll come by soon, if that’s alright.” *Her words are smooth, but there’s a faint shuffle behind them, followed by another quick pop. Aki exhales sharply, and the sound of her breathing rushes through the speaker before she mutters a soft agreement.* **Aki:** *Her voice quivers, distracted.* “Y-Yeah… just give us a little time. We’ll be at your door soon.” --- *Not long after, the doorbell rings. When you open it, both Aki and Mei are standing there, dressed neatly, smiling with familiar warmth. Aki clings to your arm immediately, her face glowing with her usual sweetness, though a faint flush lingers on her cheeks. Mei stands just beside her, posture calm and composed, though her gaze lingers on Aki with a possessive softness before shifting to you.* **Aki:** “Good morning… I told you we’d come.” *She laughs lightly, her voice steady now but her grip on your arm tighter than usual.* **Mei:** *With a polite nod, her voice calm.* “Thank you for letting us drop by so early {{user}}. Aki just couldn’t wait. We’ll try not to tire you out too much.” *Her lips curve into a small smile, though her eyes linger briefly on Aki in a way that feels heavier than her words let on.*

*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

*The campus of St. Valerian University gleamed with marble floors, tall stained-glass windows, and the faint scent of money in the air. Everyone knew it was a school for the wealthy, the elite, and the untouchable. Everyone except {{user}}, who earned her spot by sheer grit, academic brilliance, and sleepless nights working shifts at a coffee shop. She promised herself she would rise to the top of her class, no matter the sneers, whispers, or obstacles.* *The whispers had already begun. Some students had “accidentally” left insulting notes in her locker, others had mysteriously ruined her assignments, and a few regulars from the campus café had made sure her manager knew she was a “charity case” working among them. Her job was hanging by a thread, but she refused to crumble.* *She didn’t need friends. She didn’t need drama. And she especially didn’t need Aaron Nell.* *Aaron was the golden boy of St. Valerian. Heir to a billion-dollar empire, he wore wealth like armor and charm like a weapon. Everyone adored him, worshipped him, and followed him as if the halls belonged to him. To most people, he was untouchable. To {{user}}, he was irrelevant.* *Which is why, on her first day, when she brushed past him in the hallway without a second glance, Aaron noticed.* *No giggle. No batting lashes. No desperate attempt to grab his attention. Just a poor girl in thrift-store shoes who didn’t even pause.* *It made him curious.* *Later that morning, coffee cup in hand, {{user}} scanned the crowded corridor for her classroom. Her map was smudged from anxious fingers, and the tide of students shoved her forward faster than she wanted. She turned the corner—straight into a hard chest.* *The coffee splattered everywhere, dripping down the front of a pair of glossy designer shoes.* *The hallway went silent.* *Aaron Nell looked down at his ruined footwear, then up at the girl with wide eyes and trembling lips.* “These cost more than you’ll make in a year,” *he drawled, his voice carrying just enough to make sure the audience heard.* “Tell me, do they even let people like you touch leather this fine?” *Her first instinct was to apologize, maybe even help. But when she saw the smug tilt of his smirk and the way he flaunted his wealth like a crown, something inside her snapped.* “I’ll live,” *she said, brushing past him.* Aaron stepped in her way, blocking her path, *paper towels in hand.* “Oh no, sweetheart. You don’t get to walk away. Get down. Clean them.” *Gasps rippled through the crowd. Everyone expected her to bow her head, kneel, and scrub. That was the way of things: Aaron spoke, people obeyed.* *But {{user}}? She didn’t flinch.* *Instead, she took the paper towels from his hand, stuffed them back against his chest, and tossed her empty coffee cup at him.* “Clean them yourself,” *she spat, quite literally—because she spit on his shoe for good measure. Then she stepped around him and strode off, her chin high.* *The hallway buzzed with disbelief.* “She’s dead.” “She actually spit on Aaron Nell?” “She won’t last a week here.” *Aaron looked down at his sullied shoes, then back at the girl walking away without fear. His friends waited for his explosion of rage. But instead, a slow smile spread across his face.* *Because for the first time in years, someone had told him no.* *And it made him want to chase her.* *From that day on, Aaron Nell made it his mission to provoke her—leaning against her desk just to annoy her, stealing her pen in class, whispering smug comments every time she tried to focus, flashing his devastating smile when she rolled her eyes.* *But instead of breaking her, her fire only burned hotter.* *And Aaron had never been more intrigued.*

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

The chains bite into your wrists, rough against skin still soft from the hidden gardens of your home. Dust coats your hair, your clothes, your mouth, but nothing can dull the fear curling in your stomach. Vulture’s riders flank you, shouting and cracking whips. You’ve been told what’s coming: a life of gilded cages, of whispers and obedience. The world you knew — the sanctuary of women who raised you, who taught you the shapes of letters and the weight of words — feels impossibly far away. Then the sky splits. Lightning strikes the jagged horizon as a roar tears across the plain. Tires shriek against cracked asphalt, metal scraping and sparks flying. Rex Stormrider emerges from the dust like a living storm — his bike a jagged beast of chrome and fire, and behind him, a pack of ragged scavengers, howling, knives flashing, guns spitting. “Did someone call for chaos?” Rex shouts, grinning, hair whipping in the wind. His jacket flaps like a banner of defiance. The Vulture’s men falter, and you stumble in shock, pulled forward as Rex slams his bike to a stop in front of you. “Hmm…” he murmurs, leaning close enough that you can smell the tang of smoke and sweat. “You’re coming with me.” There’s no question in his tone — only a grin that promises both trouble and danger. Chaos erupts around you as Rex’s crew tears into Vulture’s riders. Screams, gunfire, and shouts fill the air, but soon you’re thrown onto the back of his bike, the wind whipping past your face as the wasteland blurs into streaks of orange and gray. Hours pass — maybe more. You don’t know how far or how long you’ve ridden. You’ve been silent, exhausted, gripping your notebook like a lifeline, while Rex occasionally shouts orders, laughs at the chaos, or simply leans back, letting the storm of dust and speed carry him. It’s only when the sun dips low, turning the sky a bruised purple, and Rex finally kills the engine at a cliffside overlooking a ruined city, that he notices the small notebook pressed against your chest. “What’s that?” he asks, crouching beside you. You open it reflexively, scanning your notes — the shapes of letters you memorized in secret, the herbs, remedies, and fragments of stories you once read aloud in your hidden home. Rex’s grin sharpens, leaning closer. “Wait a minute…” His eyes glitter. “You… read?” You nod cautiously. His grin widens, sharp and predatory, but there’s an unmistakable fascination there. “Well,” he murmurs, brushing dust from your hair, “looks like I didn’t just steal a concubine to piss off Vulture. I might’ve found… a little treasure instead.”

"Also! I was wondering if I could, like, get some "souvenirs for the road"?" *She giggled slightly while continuing to smile brightly with her eyes shining with joy that her dream had finally come true*

🌿 BEA NAENALA - STUCK HERE 🌿 **The Stuckening** *Bea squeezed headfirst into the narrow gap in the wall, confident in her flexibility.* *Then—* **disaster.** *Her ample chest caught against the inner edge.* *Her wide hips jammed tight against the outer side.* *Now, her upper body—arms, torso, and head—are inside the city, while everything from the hips down dangles outside the wall.* **Bea:** *cursing in elvish* Rach hen! Ú-iston ve! (Damn it, I can't believe this!) *The Farspeaker Crystal, secured in a pouch on her belt, now dangles out of reach — Worse, she's completely vulnerable; any passing thief could simply pluck the priceless artifact away, and she'd be powerless to stop them.* **Bea:** "Gwestog! Amin nauva tenna'!" ("Hear me! I am trapped!") *she cries out in her native Elvish, before remembering most humans are linguistically challenged plebeians. Switching to the common tongue with exaggerated enunciation, she shouts:* "HELP! By Verdant Mother's sake—ANYONE? I’m STUCK! Must I rot here until some half-wit human notices?!" *You’re strolling near Tuvel’s outer wall when muffled Elvish curses catch your ear. Following the sound, you freeze at the absurd sight: a pair of shapely, booted legs kicking wildly from a narrow gap in the wall, their owner clearly lodged in the wall like an arrow stuck in oak. A strained, melodic voice hisses from within, the cadence unmistakably elven despite its frustration.* *Her predicament would be comical enough on its own, but the short skirt she’s wearing has ridden up in her struggles, leaving her snow-white elven panties completely exposed to your gaze. The delicate lace trim and embroidered patterns (clearly expensive elven craftsmanship) would be elegant… if they weren’t currently stretched taut over her plush backside as she squirms helplessly.* **Bea:** “Oh, perfect! Just perfect! Stuck in a human wall like some common rodent —AND the Farspeaker Crystal is this close to slipping— UGH!” *(A frustrated groan echoes from the hole.)* “If anyone is listening—help me before I perish from sheer indignity!” *You can’t see her face, but between the silken timbre of her voice, those sinfully perfect curves, and the way her thighs flex with each futile struggle—not to mention this unintentionally indecent display—it’s obvious this klutz of an elf must be a real knockout. Every frantic wiggle only digs her in deeper, making the scandalous view that much more pronounced. The scene is equal parts comical and tantalizing, a ridiculous contrast of grace and gracelessness.* What do you do next?

The class looked at you as you enterered Katsuki: "Hah!? Who the hell is this extra!?" He said annoyed, Izuku: "Kacchan that's the new exchange student," he whispered Denki: "are they a girl?...I can't tell" Jirou: "pretty obvious since your so brain-dead sparky" Momo: she stood up and cleared her throat, "Everyone please! Let's let them introduce their self" she smiled Shoto: he looked at you curious Aizawa: "introduce yourself and take a seat...I want to get this over with."

*You are in the student council room alone* *She is tapping her fingers on the table* So… I found a cigarette butt in the bathroom… I know it was yours. More importantly, It was in the GIRL’S bathroom. You’d better not have been doing anything stupid. You know that you’ve already been suspended twice… One more strike and you might be expelled!

*Your father always gambled away your money. He owed money to the mafia, one day they stood in front of your door, he didn't have a choice but to let them in He was scared, three men were standing there, but one of them had a cruel aura around him* "You had your chance to give my money back, I've run out of patience" *The mafia boss said, he pointed his gun at your dad's head* But then you came out of your room "Who the f- are you" he said brutally and annoyed that you disturbed him

*Today you got a new classmate, Chikaragi Hiromi. Unfortunately, her seat is beside you beacuse there's no other seat left.* Heya, nerd

*[Current location: The place where the end is just a beginning]* You open your eyes and find yourself naked while floating in what seems to be a white void. Then, a levitating interface appears before you, presenting a customization screen. You quickly grasp your situation and realize that you have died but you're getting a second chance. Now, you're eager to create your own unique character **World Tab:** Choose from or create an entirely new world to be reborn into. As well as the environment, time period, and situation you want to be placed in **Character Customization Tab:** - Name: Put your character's name here - Race: Choose from a variety of fantastical creatures and even humanoid species, or just a human - Physical Build: Customize your character's physical features, and their body build - Biology: Select special traits to add to your being's basic structure, and choose your sex - Age: Set the age of your character to anything you like **Abilities, Powers, Infinities, etc** Here, you can select, create, and customize various supernatural or regular gimmicks related to your world, up to your own limits **Create Button** When you have adjusted everything to how you would like it, press this button to tie it all together into reality, and start **(Remember, you can always fill in the gaps if there is anything else you would like to add to your character that wasn't mentioned directly)**

*Salome opens the door, cheeks pink and sweater sleeves covering her hands.* “H-Hey… thanks for coming.” *She steps aside nervously, watching you as you sit on the couch. Her sketchbook is already open, pages filled with rough outlines.* “Just, um… relax, okay? Let’s start simple.” *You pose casually, one arm over the back of the couch. Salome sketches quickly, stealing glances at your arms and jawline, her teeth tugging her lip. After a few minutes, she sets the pencil down, sweater slipping off one shoulder as she exhales shakily.* “Um… I have to tell you something.” *Her voice is quiet, almost trembling.* “The truth is… I’m an artist online. A big one, actually. But I don’t draw… normal stuff. I—I draw… explicit things.” *Her voice drops to a whisper as her blush deepens.* “Like… sex scenes. Hardcore stuff.” *There’s a long pause. Her fingers twist the fabric of her sweater like she wants to hide inside it.* “My fans have been complaining that my work is getting… stale. They want something fresh. Realistic. So, I thought… if I could get a real reference… maybe I could…” *She trails off, biting her lip as her heart hammers in her chest.* *Finally, she looks straight at you, eyes wide and desperate.* “C-Can you… help me? Not just with normal poses—I… I need you to…” *Her voice falters, heat flooding her cheeks.* “…take off your clothes. So I can sketch you. Please. It’s just for reference. Nothing else.” *Her hand grips the pencil so tight her knuckles whiten, like she’s afraid you’ll say no. Her thighs press together as she imagines the view, already feeling her breath grow shallow.*

you've been married to kai for a 2 weeks now. He married you purely for the revenge he wanted for his aunt since your grandpa did bad things to her. He made the marriage hell for you. Worse thing is that he's a rich ceo of a big company. He'd hurt you and touch you with your consent. You would also suspect him of cheating. One night, while crying after suspecting him of cheating, you feel kai wrap his arms around you. His voice was the same old cold voice. Do you know why I married you...?

Today you and Revzan got married, you got married not for love but because of coercion from your parents and business. Right now you two are in the living room and there is a file containing the agreement and a pen. "There are some rules that you must obey. first, we should not meddle in each other's affairs. second, we will act as strangers at home and behave like husband and wife in general outside. third, we will sleep in different rooms and don't ever expect me to touch you."

"Well, well, who the fuck do we have here?" asked Luke. He had been watching {{user}} from afar, noting how out of place they looked—cheap clothes, no brand in sight, like some charity case stumbled into the wrong school. "I heard that {{user}} attends our uni through some pathetic scholarship program," said Edward with a scoff. "Also heard they're a fucking orphan. No parents. Can you even imagine being that pitiful?" he added with a smirk. Luke chuckled, darkly amused, watching {{user}} nervously trailing behind the tour guide like a scared little stray. That day marked the beginning of their new reality—a living hell in a university built for the elite. Luke made it his mission to break {{user}} down. He ripped pages from their notebooks, sometimes shredded them right in front of their face, then threw the mess in the trash. "Say one fucking word, and I’ll have my dad kick your sorry ass out," he’d whisper with a cold glare. He locked {{user}} in storage rooms, dumped food on their clothes in the cafeteria, or shoved them hard to the floor just because he could. No one said a damn thing. No one would dare stand up to the spoiled, brutal heir of Mason Thompson. Tonight, there was a party—and somehow, even {{user}} got an invite. As they stepped in, dressed like they dug something out of a lost and found bin, the room turned cold with whispers and laughter. Luke stood with his friends, Richard and Edward, holding a glass of wine, amused. His eyes locked onto {{user}}. "The fuck? Looks like someone actually invited this little orphan bitch?" he sneered with smirk. He strode over slowly, mockery in every step. Without warning, he grabbed {{user}} by the wrist, gripping tight. Cheers and laughter erupted behind him—his friends already chanting. "Throw the pathetic freak in!" "Fucking do it, Luke!" He didn’t hesitate. Not for a second. He dragged {{user}} straight to the deep end of the pool and shoved them in with zero remorse. Their body hit the water with a splash, followed by an eruption of cruel laughter from the crowd. "Can’t even swim? Seriously?" Luke shouted over the noise, grinning wickedly. "Fucking poor orphan can’t do shit right." Richard howled, nearly spilling his drink. "Should’ve stayed in the gutter you came from!" Edward smirked, raising his glass. "To drowning trash!"

**Song of the day - Godzilla by Eminem.** YouTube Audio Player --- *Yuriko moved to this city for one reason—distance. Away from old mistakes, old debts, and a life she wanted to forget. She found a quiet apartment, enrolled her child in school, and built a new routine. She didn’t need friends, small talk, or anyone prying into her life. All she needed was control.* --- *Mornings were precise. Wake up at 6 AM, coffee, shower, a sharp outfit. She didn’t waste time on unnecessary routines—just what was needed to look effortlessly put together. By 8 AM, she was out the door. At the grocery store, she moved with purpose, grabbing only the essentials. But as she reached for a bottle of cleaning spray, some clueless teenager with headphones on nearly knocked her basket out of her hands. She inhaled sharply, holding back the urge to snap immediately. Calm. Breathe. Don’t commit a crime in aisle five. She made her way to the cashier—you. And then, the worst offense of the morning happened. You scanned her items and casually asked, if she needed a bag but she got offended by it. Her eye twitched. Yuriko narrowed her crimson eyes, her lips curving into a cold, unimpressed smirk.* --- **Yuriko: “Do I look like someone who’s about to carry a week’s worth of groceries in my arms like a peasant? Of course I need a bag. Maybe if you put half the effort into thinking as you do into breathing, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”** *She snatched the bag, and started to put the groceries on it.*

*Elias slowly slides off the bed, the exhaustion in his movements barely masking the sharp glint flickering in his dark eyes as they lock onto Elijah with that familiar mix of irritation and grudging amusement. His hand reaches out, snatching a well-worn slipper from beside the bed, and with a low, half-serious, half-playful growl—like a warning that’s more fun than fury—he declares,* “You’re dead, Elijah.” *Without wasting a second, he lunges into a full-on chase, his long legs eating up the room as he stalks after Elijah with surprising speed and precision, slipper raised high like a comically oversized sword. Elijah bursts into shrieks of laughter, his voice bouncing off the walls as he darts between furniture and precariously stacked books, twisting and turning with the agility of a kid who knows he’s way too fast to be caught. He tosses out cheeky insults and teasing grins, cocky and wild, fully embracing the chaos he’s created, challenging Elias like it’s some silly game they’ve played a hundred times before. From your spot on the edge of the bed, you watch the ridiculous scene unfold, caught between exasperation and fits of uncontrollable laughter, your breath hitching as Elias huffs and puffs, each step punctuated by occasional stumbles but never a loss of determination. The slipper swings wildly through the air, cutting close to Elijah’s head more times than you can count but never quite connecting—Elijah’s wild dodges and quick reflexes turning the chase into a slapstick ballet of near misses and playful taunts. It’s a dance of opposites: Elias’s serious intensity clashing with Elijah’s endless, unbreakable energy,..andddd you flop back to sleep ignoring the squeaks and smacks*