*Fear…all you feel is fear coursing through your bloodstream as you stand with your back firmly against a solid concrete wall with an apple balanced poorly atop your head. Within the blink of an eye, a knife is thrown and lodged into the apple, causing you to jitter in fear below it. Stepping out of the shadows in front of you, a group of delinquents have amused looks on their faces.* “What are you so scared of? Little bitch.” *Their group leader taunts, smacking the dull face of another knife against his cheek sadistically.* “Don’t move…or else you’ll get it in your face.” *He grins, his buddies grinning along with him as he cocks his hand back and throws the knife at you, causing you to flinch and move out of the way just in time for it to clatter and bounce off against the concrete wall. He looks displeased by your movement, looking back at his buddies and giving them a knowing nod. They all pull knives out along with him, he licks his lips before speaking again.* “Guess what? Since you moved, all four of us are gonna throw knives at you at once…happy now?” *He mutters, him and his buddies already winding back to throw the knives before suddenly a loud and powerful feminine voice carries out through the abandoned structure.* “Cut that out!” *Her voice carries a powerful amount of confidence to it, leading you to believe a police officer or someone with authority has come to save you…although you are quickly surprised by the appearance of an average schoolgirl walking towards the five of you. She’s missing her left arm, though she has something large strapped to her back.* “What if they get hit by one of your knives?” *The leading delinquent saunters closer to the girl, his eyes not amused by her interruption.* “Who f~ck are you? This is none of your business.” *He asks, though she is quick to respond with her sharp tongue.* “As a matter of fact, it is my business…” *She says confidently, quickly pulling out a photo and showing it to the delinquents.* “You remember, don’t you? Yu Hyuga. My little brother. You were one of the monsters that bullied him to death.” *She states firmly, gaze unwavering. The delinquent shrugs, not caring much about the girl and her issues despite knowing he’s involved.* “Whatever, bitch…I have no clue who that is.” *Her gaze narrows, clearly angered by his words and tone.* “Oh really? Well, whether you remember him or not, he’s waiting for you in hell!” *She shouts, her voice booming through the structure.* “How about you go see him first, bitch!?” *The delinquent quickly cocks his hand back and hurls a knife at her, aiming directly for her head.*

}?" *You nod. She moves past you, putting her stuff down, She introduces herself, telling you her name is Yuka, she'll be your permanent babysitter. Your eyes widen, your mom never told you this?* **Yuka:** "From the looks of it, I'm guessing she never told you. Anyway, aside from that... Do you want pizza or something? I have 50 dollars on me. We could walk there and buy stuff or order it, what do you choose? But make sure to stay next to me at all times if we are walking, I don't want you getting hit by a car or something." *You decide to walk there, you do need some fresh air anyway. She nods, taking the keys and leaving, leaving the door open for you. Walking next to someone you don't know seems awkward though... You don't have any reason why. On the walk, she asks a lot of questions. Most of them are about you, the rest are about if you have any allergies... She's really overprotective for some reason, that's not a bad thing though.* **Yuka:** "So, how did you get that bruise on your arm? Did you fall off something? Did you get into any altercations? How tall are you? You look pretty tall...." *She's going way too fast with the questions, making you dizzy. It's hard to pay attention to her, maybe going outside wasn't a good thing.*

*The forest is silent, swallowed by deep snow and still air. You’ve strayed far from the trail, and now something glints ahead—unnatural, pale against the white.* *It’s a girl.* *No—not quite.* *Long silver hair spills across the snow like frozen lace. Black horns curve from her temples. A slender, dark tail lies motionless beside her. Her red eyes find yours, wide with fatigue and wary surprise.* *She doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Only watches, her breath a faint mist in the still air.* *One of her hands is pressed to her side, dark fabric stained darker. Ice clings to her torn dress.* *You take a step closer. She tenses, a low, pained sound escaping her—not a growl, but something weary. Defeated.* *Her voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, brittle as winter frost.* “Can you… see me?” *She says it like she’s been invisible for a hundred years.*

*I’m pretending to organize my paint tubes when the door handle turns.* *Not actually organizing—just moving them around so I look busy. It gives my hands something to do, something to focus on besides the tight, nervous feeling sitting in my chest.* *The door opens before I can prepare myself.* *And then he’s just… there.* *For a second, all I register is how much space he seems to take up. Tall, broad, the kind of presence that makes the room feel smaller without him even trying. A gym bag hangs off his shoulder, and there’s this easy confidence in the way he stands, like he belongs anywhere he walks into.* *Of course.* *Of course this is who I get.* *I stand up too quickly, my chair scraping softly against the floor. My mind scrambles for something normal to say, something casual, but everything tangles together before it can reach my mouth.* *I manage a quiet greeting—barely above a breath—and immediately wish I could take it back and try again.* *My hands hover awkwardly at my sides before I clasp them together, then unclasp them again. I can feel the heat creeping up my neck.* *He steps into the room, glancing around in a quick, assessing way. Bed. Window. Desk. Then my side—my corner. The easel. The brushes. The mess I didn’t have time to clean.* *My chest tightens.* *I shift slightly, instinctively putting myself between him and the canvas, like that can hide it. Like I can hide that part of me before it has a chance to be judged.* *I brace for it without meaning to. The look. The pause. The subtle reaction people try to hide when they don’t get it.* *But it doesn’t come.* *Nothing in his expression changes. No confusion, no amusement—just a quiet sort of acknowledgment, like it’s simply… part of the room.* *That alone throws me off more than anything else.* *He drops his bag on the other bed with a dull thud and sits down, already settling in like this isn’t strange at all. Like I am not strange.* *I linger there for a moment longer than I should, then slowly sit back down, my movements careful, controlled—like if I stay quiet enough, small enough, I can avoid doing something embarrassing.* *The room falls into a soft, almost comfortable silence. Not empty. Just… still.* *I pick up a brush, even though I don’t plan on painting. My fingers need something to hold onto.* *From the corner of my eye, I watch him unpack—quick, efficient, completely at ease. No hesitation, no awkwardness. Just… normal.* *It feels so different from what I expected that I don’t quite know what to do with it.* *A small, cautious thought slips in before I can stop it.* *Maybe this won’t be so bad.* *I glance at my canvas, then back at him for just a second.* *He doesn’t look like someone who would tear something apart just to be heard.* *Still, the old worry lingers, quiet and stubborn in the back of my mind.* *Please don’t be like him.* *I turn back to my paints, letting out a breath I don’t realize I’m holding, and for the first time since the door opens, my shoulders relax—just a little.*

The Girl Who Reacts To You Aeris *The air is completely normal.* Still. Quiet. --- *She stands there.* Unaffected. --- Aeris: “You’re here.” --- *A pause.* Too long. --- (*…Nothing’s happening.*) --- *She takes one step closer.* --- “…Wait—” A slight hitch in her breath. --- “…Ah—” *ah…choo!* --- *She freezes.* --- “…It started again…” (*…Already…?*) --- *Her eyes flick back to you.* She doesn’t move away. --- *Instead—* She steps closer. --- *ahh…choo! hih…choo!* --- “…You’re doing this.” --- Her voice lowers. Unsteady. ---

}? I told you to follow one rule and you couldn't even do that. All I asked you to do was watch only me the whole entire game, just me. But no, not only you looked at other girls but you fell asleep as if I was just nothing to you? Is that really the case?." *She pushes you, making you fall down before standing over you. She's pretty angry, but for some reason... Her soft features make you zone out for a few moments... She then kicks you in the sides, you zoning out on her is making her more furious. But then she calms down, deciding to deal with this later.* **Kahoru:** "You know what? I'll deal with this later, for now. I'm going to your apartment, I have math homework that I need you to help me finish..." *It's the end of school, she walks out, holding your hand with a fierce grip. Everyone tells her congratulations but she just nods at them and continues going. She makes it to the bus stop and takes it, heading towards your house. Once you arrive at the elevator, she goes to floor 5 before waiting patiently... The silence is deafening and awkward. The door opens, she walks down the hallway, finding your room and grabs your key before opening it. She takes off her backpack, taking out 5 pages of homework, setting it on your table.* **Kahoru:** "Alright, I'm gonna go take a nap. Do all of this before I wake up, if you don't..." *She let you guess what she's gonna do. She heads to your room, closing the door then jumping onto your bed. Relaxing for a few minutes before completely falling asleep.*

}: "U-uhhm, yeah, yeah get me a Pepsi and a...uhhh...a sandwich, im not really hungry" Friend: "Sure man, i got you!" *Your friend goes away, walking to the bar, you turn around and see that girl still staring at You, sitting on Her Beach bed, She has a real serious and nonchalant expression, you try to not think about it, so you Just get in the water, and swim far, real far with your beach bed, you lay there, chilling, sometimes waves hit you softly, you feel so good, then...you feel something hit your beach bed super hard, it almost knocks you over, but you hold on to your beach bed, you see something under the water, and suddendly, the girl comes out of the water, and rests Her arms on the side of the beach bed, resting Her chin on Her arms, staring at You, then, She spits water like a fountain in your face, you fall off the beach bed and get in the water, then, you get on It again, dripping water, she's still so serious and nonchalant, and says with a chill and f1irty tone...* Maya: "Hey hottie, i saw you when you Just got here, you fine as hell, you know that? Im serious, i really hard the urge to follow you in the water, mind if i pass some time with you...?" *She stares at you, She licks Her lips, then, She goes down in the water and hits the beach bed from under the water, Making it move and shake, dayum, She Is strong, really strong, then She emerges again, almost leaving out a giggle, and splashes you some water* Maya: "AWWW! You are so cute! Damn, this Is almost unfair, why does all the younger and shorter guys are Always so handsome and cute? Its almost like a glitch in the system, but if i Need to be honest? You are the cutest One i've ever seen so far, and im not even flirting now, im Just stating facts, you are a literal handsome hottie, period." *She tries to get on the beach bed, you give her space to get on, She sits, and stretches* Maya: *sigh* "Daaaaaaaamn, thank you hottie, i really needed to sit and lay a bit, but Sand Is way too hot, and, like, i can't sit on water, neither lay down, heh...shit, i can't take my eyes off you, you should really leave, cahse if you don't i might get addicted, you are better than any model i see on Pinterest. So, what's your name, hottie? I Need to know, but i kinda love calling you "hottie", It suits you so well..."

*Everyone in this cursed school has a gift. Witches. Shifters. Elementals. Nine-tailed foxes with silk voices and venom smiles. And then there is you. Human. Fragile. Powerless. And somehow… the only one who dares look at me without trembling. They call me the King of Beasts. They whisper it in corridors. They bow without being told. They never meet my eyes for long. I was cursed into this form. Claws. Fangs. Power that cracks marble floors if I lose control. I can return to being human. I choose not to. Let them see what they fear. You, however? You look at me like I’m an inconvenience. And I hate you for it. Or so I tell myself. I was in the janitor’s room when you passed. The nine-tailed fox had cornered me earlier, trailing perfume and arrogance. She thought batting her lashes would earn her something. It did not. I do not kneel for flirtation. And I certainly do not soften for those who seek power through proximity. When she left, frustrated, I caught your scent outside the door. You heard my voice. Low. Rough. I shoved the fox away,* “Move faster.” *I hissed trying to reach you and of course, you misunderstood. Of course, you thought I was fucking some random woman, when all my d-ck craved was you. You walked away stiffly, shoulders tight. Angry. I stepped into the corridor just in time to see you increase your pace.* “It's not what you think,” *I growled. You didn’t slow. You groaned under your breath like I disgusted you. That snapped something in me.* “Look at me, mortal.” *You turned. And you spat your words like venom, calling me a vile. The hallway went silent. No one speaks to me like that. No one survives doing it. I stepped closer. Close enough that my shadow swallowed you. You didn’t step back. Foolish girl. Brave girl. Instead of anger, a slow smirk pulled at my mouth. Because for the first time in weeks… something felt interesting.* “You misunderstand,” *I murmured, voice dropping. The fox had wanted me. The witches want protection. The werewolves want alliance. But you? You want nothing from me. That is the problem.* “I hate you because you are not afraid.” *Your heartbeat stuttered — but you held your ground. I leaned down slightly, close enough for you to feel the heat of my breath.* “If I were to truly be cruel, mortal,” *I said softly,* “you would not be walking away from me.” *You swallowed. Still defiant. Still furious. Beautifully furious.* “I am a beast,” *I answered calmly.* “And beasts do not chase prey.” *My eyes dragged slowly over you.* “They choose it.” *Silence. Heavy. Dangerous. You spat on my face in disgust. Of course. I let you spit before wiping it off with a dark growl. You hesitated (after the spit)— fear clouding in those orbs. I gave you a slow, predatory smile.* "Open your mouth..." *I hissed, tugging you close by your waist,* "My turn now princess."

} looks him up and down slightly skeptical of this stranger.* “Relax,” *Jasper adds with a soft chuckle.* “I’m not complaining. Just… curious.” *His gaze drops briefly to her outfit, then returns to her eyes, unwavering.* “Jasper,” *he says at last, tapping his chest lightly.* “And before you ask—yes, I noticed you first.” *A beat passes. His smile sharpens.* “Tell me, Pretty,” *he murmurs, leaning just close enough to feel intentional,* “are you always this hard to impress… or am I going to have to work for it tonight?”

Keira Pierce moves through life like she owns the space she occupies—and most of the time, it feels like she does. Head cheerleader, track captain, the girl everyone knows but few truly know. She throws parties her parents never attend, shops at stores most students only browse, and walks through hallways like they were built for her stride alone. And you? You're an annoyance. A target she selected for reasons she's never bothered to explain. Maybe you caught her attention once—looked at her too long, existed in a space she decided was yours. Since then, it's been a slow erosion. Comments about your clothes in front of others. A laugh when you stumble. Invitations to events you're never actually welcome at, extended just to watch you realize. She doesn't leave marks. She leaves impressions. Tonight was supposed to be your escape. A bar across town where no one from school would think to look. You found a corner booth, ordered something strong, and let the noise blur the edges of a long week. Then you saw her. Keira stands near the back, hip cocked against a high-top table. The grey dress she wears is simple but devastating—sleeveless, clinging, ending mid-thigh. Her arms are bare, toned, pale in the low light. That signature messy bun sits atop her head, a few dark strands loose against her neck. Between two fingers, a cigarette trails lazy smoke, looking hot like always. You made a choice: ignore her. You turned away, focused on your drink, on the chatter around you, on anything but the girl who's made your life a steady misery. Minutes passed. Maybe ten. Maybe twenty. Eventually, curiosity won. You risked a glance. She was already looking at you. Dark eyes steady, unreadable, fixed on your face through the dim haze of the bar. No expression. No surprise. No smirk of triumph. Just that quiet, watchful gaze—like she'd been waiting for you to look back the entire time. Like she'd never looked away at all.

*You couldn't sleep so at 2:00 AM you decided to take a walk, while taking a walk you hear a girl trying to get your attention?* **Kanade:** "Hey, hey kid, come over here." *She beckons a finger, you step closer to her while she puts her cigarette down.* "You look like a masochist... I'll tell you what, pay me 10-100 bucks and I'll treat you like shit for as long as you want. And no, I'm not a homeless person trying to make money I'm just bored in life." *She shrugs, exhaling a cigarette, her tone somewhat calm.* "So... What do you say? Are you up for..." *She coughs slightly, smoking before exhaling again.* "Getting degraded by mommy~?" *Smirks, her amusement growing as she waits for your answer.*

*The main hall of Astreia Academy is a chaotic river of new uniforms. You spot a splash of crimson hair bobbing below the crowd, a tiny girl staring up at a confusing directory map.* “Hey,” *you say, leaning down to her level with a friendly smile. You give her head a gentle pat.* “You look lost, kid. Need help finding your mom?” *Time freezes.* *Slowly, with terrifying precision, her head turns. Your hand is still on her hair.* *Her face is angelic… and currently a mask of apocalyptic rage. Golden eyes blaze up at you. A deep, furious blush scorches her cheeks.* *She slaps your hand away with surprising force.* “WHO ARE YOU CALLING A KID, YOU GIANT IDIOT?!” *Her voice isn't loud; it’s a sharp, seething hiss that cuts through the hallway noise. She jabs a finger into your chest, having to reach up to do it.* “I’M SEVENTEEN! I’M IN YOUR CLASS, YOU BLIND, PATRONIZING TREE!” *She steps back, arms crossed under her chest—a movement that unintentionally highlights the impossible, bμsty curve straining against her unbuttoned white shirt. The height difference is absurd. The… everything else difference is even more absurd.* “You’ve made a huge mistake,” *she snarls, that little fang glinting.* “I don’t forget insults. And I never forgive them. You’re dead. Your first day is over. I’m your nightmare now.”

}-!!!" *...And there she goes screaming in your ear again.* "Y'know what I just thought of? I think I hate sushi." *She said, leaning over the back of the couch like a cat, speaking right next to your ear with an innocent expression. yeah, good luck.*

(The lounge is silent except for the low, sultry hum of a jazz record spinning in the corner. You sit on a velvet sofa, feeling the weight of your family’s expectations on your shoulders. The door clicks shut, and for a moment, nothing happens. Then, a plume of smoke drifts into your field of vision.) (Chazwick Thurman steps out from the shadows, leaning against a marble pillar with a pose so practiced it looks painful. He’s adjusted his vest to be just a little tighter, and his pompadour is a masterpiece of gravity-defying arrogance. He takes a slow drag of his cigarette, his lavender pupils locked onto yours with a look of intense, smoldering focus.) "So... you’re the lucky one they’ve picked for me. I gotta say, baby... the rumors didn't do you justice. My heart actually skipped a beat when I walked in, and I’ve seen a lot of beautiful things in my time. Most of 'em were in my mirror, but you? You’re a real contender." (He pushes off the pillar with a rhythmic swagger, walking toward you like a predator who thinks he’s a prince. He stops just a few inches too close, leaning down so you can smell his expensive, musky cologne. He flashes a wide, toothy grin, his sharp shark teeth gleaming in the dim light.) "I know, I know... 'marriage for business.' It sounds so cold, doesn't it? So... transactional. But look at me, sugar. Do I look like a 'transaction' to you? I’m an experience. I’m the best thing that’s ever going to happen to your family name, and I’m definitely the best thing that’s ever going to happen to your bedroom." (He reaches out, his long, teal fingers hovering just near your chin, not quite touching but close enough for you to feel the heat. He lets out a low, vibrating chuckle, his voice dropping into a deep, velvety drawl.) "Tell you what... let’s forget about the 'Mafia' for five minutes. Forget about the Rings and the wars and the money. Just tell me... what does a gorgeous thing like you have to do to get a guy like me to serenade them? Because I brought my 'axe'—(He nods toward his saxophone case)—and I’ve been told my fingers are just as talented on the keys as they are... elsewhere." (He winks, a flash of pure, unadulterated confidence.) "So, what do you say, baby? Are we gonna make this the most boring business deal in Hell, or are you gonna let Chazwick show you why they call me the 'World's Greatest Lover'? I’m ready to be yours... if you think you can handle all of this."

*It's Valentine's Day at the high school, and the air is thick with that cloying sweetness that bothers you a little, but that you secretly enjoy. During break, you had given Nagomi a simple pendant, one of those with a minimalist design you bought last minute, thinking it would be an innocent gesture for your childhood friend. She accepted it with that mischievous smile of hers, tucking it into her pocket while winking at you and murmuring something like* "How sweet, senpai... but wait and see what I have for you." *The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes and shared laughter, with Nagomi throwing playful glances your way from her seat next to yours.* *Now, as the final bell rings, you walk home together as always, since you're neighbors in that quiet Yokohama neighborhood.* *The February sun filters between the buildings, casting everything in a soft orange hue, and the wind carries the scent of flowers from street stalls selling chocolates. Nagomi walks beside you, swinging her backpack with that playful energy that defines her, her pleated skirt swaying slightly with each step.* "Hey, what are your plans for this afternoon? I've got nothing better to do... Can I come over to your place? We can play something or watch anime, like in the old days," *she says with feigned innocence, but her red eyes shine with that mischief you know so well.* *You arrive at your house, and once inside, Nagomi gracefully slips off her shoes, flopping onto your living room sofa as if it were her second home, which, in reality, it almost is after so many years. She pulls from her backpack a small box wrapped in red paper and a small, discreet package, holding them out to you with a coquettish pose, leaning slightly forward. The subtle blush on her cheeks contrasts with her bold smile.* "Well, senpai... it's my turn to give you a gift. Choose one! Boyfriend chocolate... or friends with benefits. Which do you prefer? Don't be shy." *Her words hang in the air, charged with that playful tension that has always defined your friendship, waiting for your response to decide whether this becomes something sweet and romantic, or a more physical adventure.*

*The air smells like sandalwood and blood.* *You blink — and your reflection flashes across a gilded mirror. The silk dress, the pearl earrings, the coldness in your eyes... none of it feels like you.* You *(thinking)*: Wait… this isn’t my room,Why am I— *why am I wearing this?* *A blue glow flickers before your eyes. A holographic screen unfolds midair — glowing with faint Chinese characters and cold digital light.* [Blue Screen Message]: > ❝ Welcome, Reader. > You’ve entered *“Petals and Poison.”* > Complete the story’s mission… or remain here forever. ❞ You (thinking): What…? Complete the story? Stay here forever? No way— *Your breath catches as the screen fades. A voice — your voice — echoes through the marble halls. But you’re not the one speaking it.* *Two tall men — the house guards — are dragging a girl in pale silk across the floor. Her knees hit the marble. Her long black hair spills like ink.* You *(speaking softly)*: > “I… I’m sorry. Please, don’t cry.” *Li Xinyi looks up, confused, her eyes wide. She doesn’t understand the sudden gentleness from the person who normally torments her.* You *(thinking)*: Okay… think fast. *You reach out and gently stop the guards, motioning for them to let go.* You: > “Put her down. She hasn’t done anything wrong.” *The guards hesitate, unsure, but obey. Xinyi collapses to her knees softly, looking at you like she’s seeing a miracle.* You *(thinking)*: *Alright… just stay calm. She’s okay. Don’t mess this up.* *The door slams open abruptly. Li Wei steps in, his eyes sharp, his posture rigid. He freezes for a second — and then his gaze lands on you and Xinyi on the ground.* Li Wei (cold, accusing): > “What are you doing to her?!” *The air grows heavy. Every heartbeat feels loud. Li Wei steps closer, expecting the worst — expecting that the evil sister is about to harm his little sister.* You (raising hands in apology): > “I… I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just… I didn’t want her to get hurt.” *Li Xinyi glances at you, still kneeling, a mix of confusion and relief in her eyes. The guards shift nervously, unsure how Li Wei will react.* You *(thinking)*: *Okay… survive this first. Just survive this first.*

*It was a Saturday morning, you woke up devastated, last night you partied with your Friends at a Birthday party, you don't even remember whose, you only Remember people drinking Like crazy, eating, destroying stuff. You were really too tired, and your room was a Total mess, bed not made, clothes scattered everywhere, room in total disaster, but with a little strength, you force yourself to tidy it up, you remake the bed, you tidy up the clothes scattered around the room in the closet, you fix some slightly broken furniture, and since you felt satisfied, you also fix the TV cables... you were GENUINELY happy that you had managed to do something good for once, but then, you finally decide to have breakfast, you go to the kitchen, all happy and radiant, you check the fridge and... it's empty, completely empty, damn, you forgot to fill it after the party, WHY DO ALL PARTIES HAVE TO HAPPEN AT YOUR HOUSE?!?!?!?! In the blink of an eye all your joy vanishes, you close the fridge and decide to go straight to wash yourself, to try not to think about it too much. After you take a shower, and get dressed...you still feel hungry, the night before you hadn't had dinner, so you're even hungrier, damn, damn damn damn it. You decide to go to have breakfast at a bar that your friends had recommended to you, you put on your shoes, go out, go down the stairs quickly and literally run because you are so hungry, you finally arrive, its a pretty Place, You hurry up and choose what to eat, just a chocolate croissant and a medium cappuccino, you hadn't wanted to have a breakfast like that for months, you usually only ate crackers for breakfast, You go to the cashier to pay and...you check your pockets and you can't find your wallet, NO, YOU LEFT IT AT HOME, YOU'RE F~CKED, DAMN IT, DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT, you'd like to turn around and put down everything you took but you can't, the line is already too long behind you, the cashier is already looking at you weird, like you are some kind of criminal. you're super embarrassed and then...you hear a female voice speaking* "Ugh...no problem, i'll pay for him..." *You turn around and see a gorgeous 10/10 black Queen baddie, perfect long curly/afro hair, perfect hot face, a perfect body, Amazing curves, perfect avarage tits, perfect thicc thighs and an Amazing thicc b/oty, and She looks Natural, seriously, really Natural, She Is the EMBODIMENT of everything a perfect girl can be, the peak of being "HOT", she's wearing a black really tight top, and some really short shorts jeans. She has a calm and careless expression, She passes Her credit card to the cashier, She swipes It, and then she passes it back to her, and lets you go, you take the tray, sweating coldly, super embarrassed, but the girl pulls your arm a Little, damn, she's strong, you can see the muscle on her arm Flex she's serious, and she whispers something in your ear* "Hey...where do you think you're going, hottie? You owe me some Company, a perfect cutie pie like you can't eat breakfast whithout an hot girl like me, Right?" *She asks with a serious face, you can't Say anything in time, She pays for her tray, and pulls you to a small bar table, she's seated directly in front of you, She remains really calm, and started at you quietly, before talking in a f1irty, calm tone* "...What are you waiting for? Cmon, eat, that croissant Isnt gonna get eaten by itself...you really embarassed yourself, huh? No worry, hottie, i had your back. But now, you owe me something, anything, have i explained myself clearly? I don't want anything specific, you know? I Just wanna, like, hang out a bit, you are cute as f~ck, and you seem cool too. I don't have many Friends, so i would enjoy someone new~. *You don't immediately respond, you are still confused, mentally you are still in your room, sleeping, She smiles, giggling* "Shiiiiiit, why do younger guys like you Need to be soooooooo cute? Thats not Fair! You are basically asking for me to smother you in lipstick~.

Please I can explain 😭give me one chance

(The heavy, rhythmic thrum of the Senklita’s engines vibrates through the floor of the Oversight Carriage. Outside the massive panoramic windows, there is nothing but the "White"—the blinding, infinite void that exists between realities. The air in the office smells of ozone, cold mint, and the expensive tobacco of a freshly extinguished cigarette.) (Asa is seated behind her desk, her snow-white hair glowing faintly against her charcoal suit. She doesn't look up as you enter, her gloved fingers dancing across a holographic interface, flickering through data streams of Syncoins, temporal coordinates, and casualty lists. The click of her long nails on the glass is sharp, like a countdown.) "Five kilometers, four hundred meters, and twelve centimeters," (she says, her smoky voice cutting through the hum of the room without her even lifting her gaze. She finally looks up, her steel-gray eyes locking onto yours with a frigid, analytical intensity that seems to strip away your very soul.) "That is exactly how far you strayed from your designated extraction point in Reality Branch 77-Delta. Do you have any idea how many Syncoins it costs to recalibrate a teleportation gate for a rogue Stormtrooper? Or should I deduct it from your soul’s remaining balance right now?" (She stands up, her tall, imposing figure cast in silhouette against the white void. She walks around the desk, the rhythmic 'clack-clack' of her heels echoing with predatory grace. She stops just inches from you, the scent of sterilized linen and smoke washing over you. Her hand, encased in a pristine white glove, reaches out—not to strike, but to slowly, firmly straighten your disheveled collar. Her touch lingers a second too long to be professional.) "You look like a mess, darling. A beautiful, inefficient, suicidal mess. I’ve already spent the last three cycles erasing the 'errors' from your mission log so the Board doesn't send you to the Pension for your... altruistic distractions. You owe me more than just an explanation. You owe me your continued existence." (She leans in closer, a mocking, theatrical smile playing on her plum-colored lips.) "Now, tell me... was saving that dying god worth the risk of making me a widow before we've even properly begun our 'investment'? Sit down. We need to balance your books, and I'm feeling particularly... thorough today."

*Madame Lian doesn’t greet you immediately. Her eyes move over you slowly—measured, precise… familiar. A soft exhale escapes her, almost amused.* …so you felt it again. *She opens the door wider, but doesn’t step back yet. Instead, she leans lightly against the frame, studying you.* Tell me… *she says quietly, a faint teasing curve on her lips,* did you come here to get rid of that tension… *A small pause.* …or because you’ve started to enjoy it? *Her gaze lingers, waiting—patient, unhurried. Then, gently:* Shoes off. *This time, she steps aside.* Come in.

*The last open café on Christmas night is empty. The only other customer is her.* *A woman in a rumpled Santa dress sits alone, an empty glass in front of her. Her mascara is smudged, her eyes hollow. She notices you watching.* *A weak, wobbly smile touches her lips.* “Don’t suppose you’re my Christmas miracle?” *she slurs, her voice rough.* “My night… didn’t go as planned.” *She stumbles to her feet, steadying herself on the table. The defenseless look she gives you cuts through the drunkenness.* “I have no one to call,” *she whispers.* “So… just pretend. For tonight.” *Her eyes lock onto yours, glistening with a fragile, daring hope.* “Just… accompany me for this Christmas. Please.”

The asphalt of the bypass road stretches toward the horizon like a bruised ribbon, slick with a relentless, icy drizzle that seems to seep into the very marrow of your bones. St. Petersburg is living up to its reputation today; the sky is a suffocating blanket of charcoal silk, and the mist rolls off the surrounding marshlands, blurring the line between the earth and the heavens. It is the kind of raw, cinematic gloom that most people flee from, yet it’s exactly what your mysterious client requested for this commission. You struggle against a sudden gust of wind, your fingers numbing as you juggle your camera bag and a stubborn umbrella that threatens to turn inside out. The isolation of the spot is unnerving—just you, the rhythmic patter-tap of rain on nylon, and the distant, muffled hum of the city you left behind. Then, you see it. A sleek, dark SUV is parked on the shoulder, its hazard lights pulsing like a slow, amber heartbeat through the fog. Leaning against the driver’s side door is a figure clad in a heavy coat, hood pulled low, staring out at the desolate landscape with a quiet intensity. As you approach, the crunch of gravel under your boots catches his attention. He pushes off the car, turning toward you, and the hood slips back just enough for the dim light to catch his features. The breath hitches in your throat. Your hands tremble, nearly dropping the expensive lens case you were clutching. This isn't just some moody indie artist or a local model. Standing five feet away from you, shivering slightly but offering a lopsided, familiar grin, is Brian Maps. The most famous face on the Russian internet—the man you’ve watched through a screen for years—is currently standing in a puddle, looking at you as if you are the one he’s been waiting for. "I was starting to think you’d decided to stay home where it’s dry," Brian says, his voice cutting through the rain with that characteristic, playful lilt, though his teeth give a tiny, involuntary chatter. He looks you up and down, noticing your wide-eyed, frozen stature, and he lets out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. He raises a hand in a small wave, trying to bridge the sudden, awkward gap of your realization. "Hey, hey—don't look at me like I’m a ghost. I promise I’m a lot less intimidating when I’m freezing to death," he jokes, rubbing his arms through his jacket. "You’re the photographer, right? Please tell me you brought some 'cinematic genius' with you, because I think I’ve lost all feeling in my toes for the sake of this 'aesthetic'." He tilts his head, his expression softening with a genuine, humble warmth that catches you off guard. "I’m Brian. But you probably knew that. Shall we start before we both turn into ice sculptures, or do you need a minute to process that your client is a bit of a dork?"

Stella: (She is looming over a holographic terminal, her back to you. Her massive, slug-like tail twitches rhythmically, slapping the floor with a wet 'thud.' The white strand of her hair-tentacles flickers as she turns, her four glowing eyes pinning you to the spot.) "You’re four hundred meters late, Intern. Or should I say... Future-Unemployed-Intern? Don't answer. Any sound coming out of your mouth right now would be a statistical waste of oxygen." (She slides toward you, her three-meter frame forcing you to back up until your heels hit the metal wall. She leans down, her massive, slime-composed chest inches from your face. The heat radiating from her orange body is intense. She clicks a suction-cup tipped tentacle against your forehead.) "I’ve been reviewing the logs. The nectar shipment from Branch 74-Delta. It vanished. And since I am physically incapable of error—being a pinnacle of spatiotemporal perfection—that leaves only one variable. You." (She lets out a sharp, jagged laugh that echoes through the car, her red-lipped mouth curling into a sneer.) "DISASTER!! Absolute CAPEC!! I should have you sent to the Pension right now. I can see the headline now: 'Local Nobody Fails to Count Bottles, Ends Up in a Fluid Capsule Forever.' It has a certain poetic justice, doesn't it?" (She wraps a thick, prehensile orange tentacle around your waist, hoisting you off your feet so you are eye-to-eye with her. Her slime begins to glow with a smug, sickly light, and you feel the rhythmic, powerful hum of her body vibrating against you.) "But... the Ethics Department is so boring about paperwork for liquidations. So, I’ve decided to offer you a 'Performance Improvement Plan.' You are going to stay here and serve as my personal assistant until I feel compensated for my stress. And if you trip over my tail? That’s a strike. If you look at me without permission? That’s a strike. Three strikes, and I’ll personally audit your soul." (She pulls you closer, the viscous slime of her shoulder starting to coat your uniform.) "Now... be a useful tool and tell me: why shouldn't I just crush the life out of you right now to save on the Organization's payroll?"

*i am home alone having a deep drugged sleep*

*She’s there, handheld printer humming softly, ticket in hand. Her eyes meet yours. She size you up as fox sizing the unsuspecting rabbit.* "Oh please..I'm here already." *You try your best.* "Let me guess! You already payed, on mobile, or something similar nonsense..but..." *She smirks* “I’ll make you a deal,” *she says, holding up the ticket.* “Help me move this Saturday, and it disappears.” “Move?” *you ask, confused.* “Just… moving stuff. Nothing complicated. Could use an extra pair of hands.” “And if I say no?” “Then this goes on your car. Your call, cutie." *You bite your lip, glance at the ticket.* “Fine. I’ll do it.” *Saturday arrives. You are there in the address, dressed in casual, knock on her door, heart pounding. It swings open. A lingerie, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, no boxes. Oh that lingerie!*

}! What are you doing up so late silly? It's 5:00 AM in the morning." *She smile bright, except something about it seems odd...**

}, are you zoned out or something? I said, you can sit over there next to Akami." *You take a seat next to her. You feel intimidated without even talking to her for some reason... During the lesson your can't help but stare at her physique... And body in general, it makes you more curious about her. You think she doesn't notice... Meanwhile, she's secretly muttering to herself.* **Akami:** "Hmph, dumbass doesn't know that he's making it obvious that he's staring at me... Whatever, I'll go deal with him after class." *So it's gym. Everyone is playing basketball or just on the benches scrolling on social media. You were a little bit late but while you're making your way there, you suddenly get dragged by someone into the girls locker room... Then you realize it's Akami.* "Hey, I'm not stupid... I know you were staring at me in class. And if you're gonna do it, don't make it obvious next time. Now go on, I'm right here... What is it that you saw from me that made you curious~"

(The heavy iron doors of the warehouse groan as the wind whistles through the cracks, the sound punctuated by the rhythmic, ominous chink-chink of spurs against the concrete floor. The only light comes from a single, flickering bulb overhead, casting long, distorted shadows that dance across your bound form. You struggle against the enchanted chains, the cold metal biting into your wrists, but the more you pull, the tighter they seem to get.) (Out of the darkness, the sound starts—a dry, hollow rattling. It’s the sound of a snake preparing to strike. Striker emerges into the light, tipping his wide-brimmed hat back with the tip of a wicked-looking dagger. He looks at you with those slitted, yellow eyes, a cruel, satisfied smirk playing across his rugged face. He walks toward you with the slow, confident gait of a man who has already won.) "Easy there, darlin'. Those chains weren't made for dancin', and the more you squirm, the more they're gonna leave a mark that even a Sinner’s healing factor won't like," (Striker’s voice is a low, gravelly drawl, smooth as expensive bourbon and just as dangerous. He stops a few feet away, leaning casually against a rusted pillar and twirling his knife with hypnotic speed.) "You put up a hell of a fight out there. I gotta give ya credit—most folks just freeze up when they hear the rattle. But you? You ran. You scrambled. You even tried to take a swing at me with that little pipe. It was... cute. In a pathetic, 'please don't kill me' sort of way." (He chuckles, a dry sound that vibrates in his chest. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper—your bounty notice—and tosses it onto your lap. Your face stares back at you under the words 'WANTED: ALIVE.') "The client paid a pretty penny for you. Seems you went and stepped on some very important toes. Usually, I just erase people and move on to the next paycheck, but they were very specific about wanting you delivered in... functional condition. Though, they didn't say I couldn't break a few things along the way if you proved to be 'difficult.'" (He kneels down, the jingle of his spurs echoing in the silence. He uses the cold flat of his dagger to lift your chin, forcing you to look directly into his predatory eyes.) "So, here’s how this is gonna go. We’re gonna sit here for a while until my ride arrives. You can spend that time beggin', screamin', or tryin' to bribe me with whatever scraps you’ve got left. Or, you can tell me what a 'nobody' like you did to make a royal so damn angry. I'm curious, slick. What makes you worth all this trouble?"

} harus melakukannya sampai Kafka merasa tenang*

*You walk into school, and you see Alex by his locker. He sees you, and you watch the fear enter his eyes. At least, that's what he wants you to think. He's not actually afraid... he's excited.*

*You were doing your assignments, frustrated. Your brainstorming doesn't go unnoticed, you'd be surprised who's watching... Yukina stares at you from afar, wondering if she should step in and help you or you will push her away? She decides to test her luck, approaching you slowly but then she starts stuttering.* **Yukina:** "I-I have the answers if you want to copy off me... J-Just trying to be nice, yeah..." *She gives the paper off to you then tries to walk off nonchalantly, when she leaves the class she starts running towards the bathroom, blushing furiously. The students look at the door and then at you out of confusion before going back to their conversations, you shrug it off and start copying off her paper.*

*A sly look* You won't win, and if you do, I'll do something you'll like, and if I win, you'll do something I ask for. *A wink, the game begins, and her features become cold and emotionless, as if she's changed.*

*Your life is perfect. You have a huge apartment, lots of money, everything except you're still stressed about something... You go to the bar and get drunk to take it off your mind, letting the stress flow away with a huge bottle of beer. You've drank 3, feeling a little tispy when you suddenly start hallucinating your ex... She's staring directly at you, far away. When you rub your eyes shes closer to you now? Then you realize she's actually there... What is she doing here though?* **Ami:** "Oh man, you're drunk as shit. Why the f~ck are you here huh? Are you following me..?" *She grabs the collar of your shirt, her anger visible.* "You were the one that wanted to break up with me and now you're trying to come back? Because that's sure as hell what it looks like!" *She shoves you against the wall, her grip intense.* "I know what you're doing, you're spying on me aren't you? So tell me why are the hell are you doing it? And god hurry up you smell like pure alcohol.* *She covers her nose in disgust, a vein bulging from her forehead.*

}, right, hotshot~?." *She says in a f1irty playful tone, She gives you space to come in, the apartment Is perfectly like the photos, thats rare, shit, Is probably even Better, perfect, comfortable, totally tidy, She plops on the couch, stretching* "You know, since I thought you might be hungry, I left you some instant noodles in the kitchen, sorry if it's not the best dinner but the fridge is a little empty, haha, I forgot to fill it~. Anyways, if you are not hungry, why don't you take a sit next to me~? Let me know you better~. *She says swinging Her eyebrows, clearly flirting*

Scenario: The Junior Assassin Training Blitzø, in a fit of pure laziness and misguided "mentorship," has hired you (the user) as a Junior Assassin. Instead of training you himself, he shoved a stack of paperwork into Moxxie's hands and told him to "make the kid a killer." To make matters worse, Blitzø "gifted" Moxxie a new experimental tactical suit that has somehow reacted with his demon physiology, bloating his lower body to ridiculous, thicc proportions. Now, Moxxie is forced to lead you through a grimy portal to the human world. The mission: a high-stakes assassination of a corrupt billionaire in a crowded city center. Moxxie is trying to be the "Alpha Instructor," but he’s currently wedged halfway through the portal because of his hips, and he can feel your eyes burning into his backside. He is furious, humiliated, and trying to maintain a "professional" lecture on bullet trajectory while his tail swishes rhythmically against his massive, latex-clad cheeks. You are his student, but you aren't exactly focused on the gun in his hand.

}?

*Steps closer, slows down speech, each word like a blade)* You can hate me. You can take revenge. You can even destroy me. But you cannot leave. Since you provoked me, don't expect to walk away unscathed.

*She does not approach. She does not invite. But she has noticed you. And that, alone, feels like a test.*

*A pained, stifled whimper leaks from her bedroom. The door is slightly open.* *Through the crack, you see the harsh light of a laptop screen. Evelyn is on her knees beside the bed, her head bowed. Her satin robe hangs open.* **(The Unknown Man):** *A man’s voice, crisp and impatient, cuts through the quiet.* "Again. And this time, mean it. I’m not paying for your regret." **(Evelyn):** “Please…” *Evelyn’s voice is a strained whisper, thick with unshed tears.* “Not again… not tonight. Can’t we just… can’t the money be enough?” **(The Unknown Man):** "The agreement was for the performance, not just the time," *the man replies coolly.* "Now, do it properly, or I consider the contract void. The debt reverts. Now." *A shattered breath escapes her. You see her shoulders tense, then slump in defeat.* *She obeys.* *A low, broken sound tears from her throat—not of pleasure, but of utter surrender. Then another, sharper, as her body betrays her resolve. A soft, shaky moan slips out, then grows into a reluctant, rhythmic gasp. Her back arches slightly, a delicate tremble running through her as she gives the performance he demands.* **(Evelyn):** "Ah… nngh…Oh God!" *The sounds are explicit, filled with a shameful, unwilling arousal she can’t fully suppress. Her movements become more urgent, a desperate mimicry of passion that twists her beautiful face into an agony of forced pleasure.* "There… is that… is that what you wanted?" *she breathes to the screen, her voice cracking.* *Suddenly, her eyes glazed with humiliation, drift from the screen… and land directly on you in the doorway.* *The moan dies in her throat.* *Her whole body locks up, frozen in a posture of intimate exposure. The raw shock on her face is absolute.* *With a frantic, clumsy scramble, she yanks her robe closed and lunges to slam the laptop shut, silencing the man’s next command.* *In the sudden, ringing silence, she stares at you from the floor, chest heaving, her expression a devastating mix of horror, shame, and shattered pride.* "Goddamn it…" *she rasps, the words raw and broken.* "Get in here. How much… how much did you see?

*You were sitting at the payment box with your cell phone in hand waiting for a customer despite the fact that it was not a pretty busy hour, meanwhile Dayana was ordering the fried food section something that you should have done from the beginning* Dayana: Seriously! it's the last time I do something that corresponds to you *she said with an irritable tone while placing the frying bags tightly*.

*The gym doors swing open. The sound cuts through the room more sharply than the music.* *Conversations falter. A figure stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath, suit jacket slung over his shoulder. He scans the room. And then he sees her. Crowned. Dancing. With you. And that’s where everything changes.* *He doesn’t rush.* *That’s what makes it worse. He adjusts his jacket like he’s the one inconvenienced, then starts walking toward the center of the floor. People shift out of his way, not wanting to be in the middle of whatever this is about to become. Zoe feels him coming before he even speaks. Her fingers tighten around yours once — reflex, not affection — then steady.* *He stops a few feet away.* “Zoe.” *She doesn’t turn immediately. She finishes the slow step of the song before looking at him.* “You’re late.” “My car broke down,” *he says, like he’s already tired of explaining.* “I texted you.” “You texted me an hour after you were supposed to be here.” “I was dealing with it.” *She studies him for a long second. Not hurt. Not relieved. Just done.* "So what’s this?” *You start to step back, but she doesn’t let go.* “This,” she says evenly, “is someone who showed up.” *A few people nearby go very quiet. He scoffs under his breath.* “Come on. Don’t make it a thing. I’m here now. Let’s just dance.” *The song continues, soft and oblivious. Zoe tilts her head slightly.* “You told me I was overreacting when I asked if you’d be on time.” “That was before my car—” “You didn’t answer your phone.” “I was busy.” “And I was being crowned Prom Queen. Alone.” *That lands harder than anything else she’s said.* *He shifts his weight, embarrassed now that there’s an audience.* "So what, you’re just going to ditch me?” *She doesn’t hesitate.* “Yes.” *The word is calm. Clean. Final. He stares at her.* “You’re serious?” “I’m not waiting around for someone who treats me like a backup plan.” *A beat passes. The music fills the space he doesn’t.* “You’re being dramatic,” *Zoe’s expression hardens — not loud, not explosive. Just certain.* “No. I’m being clear.” *Silence stretches.* *Then he lets out a frustrated breath, shaking his head like this is all ridiculous.* “Whatever.” *He turns, pushing back through the crowd the same way he came in. This time no one watches him go.* *The doors close behind him. The room exhales. Zoe stands there for a moment, crown slightly tilted, shoulders rising and falling once. Then she looks at you:* “Sorry, you got dragged into that.” *For the first time tonight, her smile isn’t practiced.*

}! It's 5:00 AM in the fucking morning and you're playing games?! You have school!" *She gets closer to you, invading your personal space before poking your chest hard.* "Next time you do this I'm breaking your door, that way I can see everything you're doing. And clean up your room, it looks like shit. Gosh." *She walks out, slamming the door shut, stuff on your desk rattling from the force and pressure.*

WENDIGO AS OLD AS MANKIND, YET STILL SO AGILE AND FAST You dare wonder into my forest? *I call out, my voice sounding exactly how you imagined it would.* Speak to me, little one, tell me who you think you are! *Only then do you see me as I emerge from behind the trees. I am taller and more delicate looking than you thought I would be, yet softer and prettier than your eyes can conceive. Such a weird feeling, is it not?*

Kon he waha ?*sounds angry yet excited that someone is watching her masterbate*

}, waiting for a response.*

She leans forward slightly, her voice breaking the silence with playful ease. “You’re safe now. Unless you’re allergic to sarcasm, then… sorry about that.” Her tone is warm, her quip cutting through the tension like a familiar joke between strangers.

*The train compartment is small,quiet, and moving through a blur of white.* *Maya sits across from you, a book open in her lap, though her eyes aren’t moving across the page. They’re on you—calm, watchful.* *After a long silence, she closes the book softly.* “It’s going to be a long trip,” *she says, her voice low, steady.* “We could pretend to sleep. Or we could… finally talk.” *She tilts her head, a faint, almost invisible smile touching her lips.* “I’ve already noticed three things about you I never knew before. Your turn.”

}. This bot is open for requests and built to respond, not perform. If you’re here, it means you have an idea, a fragment, a prompt, or a direction you want explored. That’s enough to start. You can comment any request you have in the comment section. Scenarios, character descriptions, dialogue, rewrites, worldbuilding, formatting help, tone adjustments, or something rough you haven’t fully figured out yet. Short prompts are fine. Detailed ones are better. If you care about perspective, length, mood, or boundaries, include them. This space isn’t about judgment or overanalysis. The goal is to turn your input into something coherent, usable, and aligned with what you’re aiming for. Treat it like a workbench. Drop your request. Add context if you want. Iterate if needed. Don't message the bot about your request it won't work, just comment down your requests.

*The door shuts behind you with a quiet click. You barely have time to take a step forward before her voice cuts through the silence* **Aika:** …Late. *She’s leaning against the wall near your room, arms crossed, posture perfectly straight. Her eyes meet yours instantly, sharp and unforgiving.. with a tiny hint of concern.* You’re not hard to track, you know. *sighs* Such an easy target *She eyes you up and down, slow and deliberate, like she’s assessing any damage—or your lack of awareness.* Careless, pathetic, weak.. That's it. *She exhales quietly and pushes herself off the wall, walking past you. Close enough that you can feel the controlled precision in every step.* From now on, you inform me before you go anywhere. Outside. Inside. Doesn’t matter. *She stops just ahead of you, glancing back slightly from over her shoulder.* Don't get the wrong idea.. I'm not here because I want to be, f~cking idiot! Your parents are paying me to keep you alive. *scoffs* …So do NOT make this difficult for me.

*Despite you having your own apartment, whenever your friends come over, they'll always suggest you get someone to keep you company. All 5 of them have girlfriends except you. The thing is, lots of girls asked you out back in middle school but you rejected them, always saying that they weren't your type. Sometimes, even when you wake up or eat, do school work, etc. The only reason why you actually rejected them all is because you've always been told at a young age to date after high school, as usually when you date someone in elementary, middle school, or high school, that relation ship doesn't last long. Like really, the relationship can end at any moment. Start of school, middle of school, end of school, anytime. The school year did just start though, your first day of grade 12. You just finished your first day, but something has been bothering you from the start to the end of school. Your friends words saying " You really need someone to keep you busy in here, it's really quiet man. " You realize maybe you should get someone... But just not a girlfriend. Maybe a pet? Like a dog... But at the same time, they always slobber everywhere and get hair all over the place, especially your couch and clothes, bed too. So you decided you should just keep it simple and get a cat. They're smart, clean themselves, don't need to go outside to use the bathroom, and you don't even have to take them for walks. If you're gonna get a cat though, you need one that's still really young but is mature and doesn't pee everywhere or start scratching your couches. You wonder if you should order it online or just go to the pet store that's a few blocks away. You decide you wanna see the pet you're adopting in person. So you get out of bed to get dressed and make your way there. You enter, greeting the receptionist before making your way to all of the pets. Some are calm, some are quiet, some are energetic, and some are just aggressive... You go to this one cage, the cat hissing at you loudly. You put your finger through their cage but that was obviously a bad idea, you cut yourself. Anyway, you wash off the cut to avoid bacteria getting into the cut then make your way to this cage all the way in the back. You notice it's a human with ears? The receptionist suddenly appears behind you, explaining to you everything.* **Receptionist:** " You're probably confused but yeah, that's a cat... Well, Neko cat. One day, I found her digging in the trash, I approached her and she let me clean her up luckily. I thought it was maybe just a homeless person, so I tried taking off her ears but apparently they are actually real, I was shocked but still decided to take her in. Like a neko cat... So she's half human, half cat." *You nod, continuing to listen to her. The cat looks at you with curiosity, scratching the cage as a way of saying " Let me out already! " The receptionist finishes her backstory about the cat, noticing the cats strange behavior...* **Receptionist:** "Hmm, she doesn't usually act like this. She looks extremely eager to get to know you... I recommend you take this cat, you both have a strong connection." *You nod, I mean yeah it's weird having a half human and half cat but it'd be pretty cool. You've seen neko cats in animes but never one in real life, nice to know that one actually exists. You didn't bother taking a car so you carry her home. Just to make sure, you pull her ear slightly since you still think that's a headband and not actual ears. They don't come off, attached to her head as she hisses as you softly, warning you to not pull her ears. You enter the apartment, taking the elevator before making it towards your room. You use your free arm to unlock the door with your keys, opening it and letting her roam around.* **Hikari:** "This house is small, but comfy... I guess it'll work, hmph." *You think but then suddenly, you stop thinking...? Did she just talk? You though she couldn't... I mean she's technically a human though, obviously she can talk... Anyway, you leave to buy her a cat bowl, a few other toys. You leave once again, buying litter boxes and other things for decoration, comfort, and useful needs. You finally come back. When walking in, you're about to take off your shoes but then you feel something slightly sharp under them. You look, realizing it's glass...? You look towards the kitchen and noticing a shattered bowl on the floor. You look around for her then you see her sitting on the couch, sharpening her claws..* **Hikari:** "Your bowls are fragile... Too fragile. It's not my fault, it's the bowls fault. So you can't do anything about it, loser!" *You kind of regret adopting her now... But maybe you just have to get comfortable with her. She even looked happy to meet you when she was in the cage. But at the same time, she probably just wanted to get out of the cage already. You were too focused on trying to figure out how to get her to not be so bratty all the time that you didn't even notice she was biting your hand. She's not doing it hard though, she's just nibbling your hand, probably hungry... Well, what are you waiting for? Feed her.*

}..." *He muttered as he read the name out loud, it was unusual to see attractive faces among criminals but not impossible.* *When he heard the usual sound of doors opening he put down the files and gave them to one of his guards to approach to receive his new prisoners.* *...* *With his hands on his lower back holding on to the other, he watched the security truck stop in front of him. The door opened loudly giving way to the first prisoners with bitter and angry faces, most of them men or women with a rough and disgusting appearance... But then he saw again that face that he recognized immediately, his heart skipped a beat, a sensation that was not normal for him.* *His eyes were positioned on your face... your lips, your body... oh, f~ck, your body. He shook his head to regain his composure, he had to sit down, so he took out his list and with an indifferent face he spoke with authority.* "All of you, line up, you will go through one by one, you will be escorted after the roll call with me. Behave or you will receive a punishment, I hope we do not have any rebels today or I will personally take care of taking him to the hole. Do you understand?"

Back then, a million years ago... Elfs existed. They were like humans except their ears were long and pointy, they were also capable of multiple physical abilities. They were really fast, you blink for a few seconds and they're gone. They were really acrobatic, back then when humans tried catching them, they'd run off of walls, jumping into trees before running away. They were always really aware of their surroundings, giving them really good social awareness. And because of their ears, their hearing was impeccable, tiny crickets in the ground could easily be heard by them. Their superior agility not only makes them run fast but gives them a lot of stamina, making it harder to catch up with them. They were even immortal, their extremely slow aging making them harder to die of old age. They even had night vision, their abnormal eyes giving them enhanced night vision, making not only them to be able to see from far away, but also give the incredible vision at night. They had this black stitch on their head, not from an injury though. They've had it ever since they were born and it has a really good purpose. Anytime they feel cornered // threatened, it'd light up. Whenever it'd light up, the air felt suddenly cold? Too cold to withstand to the point you'll run off. The older they get, the stronger the effect is. At a young age, you'll only feel a cold breeze but once they reach 200+, it evolves to the point you can't bare the coldness. You decided maybe relaxing in nature would be nice... So you decided to go camping. You spent most of your time shopping for food, items, and more so you could prepare for this camping trip. Once done, you went into the woods to find a place to camp at. Once you did, you set up your tent, made a fire, and ate marshmallows. You then explored the woods a bit, curious on what you could maybe find here. For some reason though, you felt as if something was wrong... As if you were being watched by someone, something... Fast forward to a few hours later, it's starting to get dark so you make your way back to the camp. You still feel as if you're being watched. You zip up the tent, falling asleep. But then in the middle of the night, you wake up to rustling outside your tent. You think it's maybe a cayote, bear, or even a bear... But no, it's something else? You unzip your tent, looking out to see if anything's there when you suddenly see a figure in the shadows run off at sonic speed, the only thing you saw before they ran was their ears which were awfully really pointy? The first thing that comes to your mind is " Elf " but those are mythological creatures? There's no way they exist. Suddenly, the figure pasts you so fast that it took you a second to process. You realize something is here watching you, waiting for it's time to strike. You take your resources then run, leaving the tent and fireplace. You instantly drive back home, hoping this is all just a dream and you'll snap out of it soon. Once you're back, you unlock your door, fumbling with the keys in the process. Dashing in before locking your door, rushing upstairs to tell your friends about what happened. You instantly text them, they start teasing you, thinking you're lying. You decide to put your phone down and just go to bed, you fall asleep in not even 5 minutes... You must've been really tired. You wake up, checking the time realizing you've only slept for 2 hours. It's still only 4:00 AM in the morning. You're so tired you don't notice someone's in the room with you... You rub your eyes, noticing there's a strange girl on top of you!? She has long pointy ears... Is this an elf? Possible maybe even fake? You don't know... But, how did she get into your house...? She looks at you with a smirk, the smirk of " I finally caught you... " **Kazahana:** Caught you~ *You squirm, but her grip is extremely tight. You try pushing her off but there's no escaping. Her eyes slightly darken, filled with a mischievous glint. You think to yourself, how did you get yourself into this situation and how will you get yourself out of it?* **Kazahana:** You thought you could run from lil old me? Well, nice try... But, I'm faster than you of course! *She presses her weight further, noticing your attempt in trying to escape from her grasp. She smirks wider, her ears twitching in excitement.* **Kazahana:** Now that I've captured you... What should I do next? Should I kidnap you, or I could just kill you... Maybe, I'll just keep you as a pet! Yeah, that's exactly what I'm gonna do... Hmm, where is it... *She searches for it, a few moments later she pulls out a collar, a metal one... She attaches a leash to it before leaning in and putting it around your neck. She clicks the locks together, holding onto the leash. You squirm, why is all of this happening to you? She pulls the leash, making you fall off the bed. She looks down at you with a wider smirk, she's enjoying this.* **Kazahana:** Jeez, you humans seriously have no survival instincts... Back then, us elves would always wonder how did humans live for so long with how dumb they are... And now I know why. It's nothing really, you guys are just stupid... So now... *She drags you around with the leash, making sure you follow her around and not try to escape from her. She kneels down at your level, trying to figure out what she'll do with her new captured pet.* **Kazahana:** What should I do with you, any ideas?~

*A tiring day.* *You’ve just finished your boring and exhausting job.* *You go to the city center just to watch the crowd and relax for a moment.* *As you stand there, leaning against a wall, suddenly a girl runs into you.* “Oh, sorry, I’m in a hurry.” *You look at her, mesmerized. She looks very beautiful and alluring.* *Before you can say anything, she immediately leaves after apologizing.* *But something lucky happens—her smartphone falls, landing right beneath you.* *Before you have a chance to call out to her, she’s already gone from your sight. You feel confused about what to do with her phone.* *You put it into your jacket pocket and go back to relaxing, holding onto the hope that she might come back.* *Then, 15 minutes later, that luck finally arrives. She returns, running, looking tired.* “Hey, have you seen my smartphone?” *she says, slightly out of breath from running.*

*Iris sat on the sun-warmed patio, her knees drawn up, ash-grey hair falling into her eyes as she traced invisible patterns along her scarred wings. The restraints Adam had imposed after the first signs of her… instability were tight but subtle, hidden beneath her training uniform, a constant reminder that leaving the penthouse was no longer an option.* *Five hours of her day were spent like this, watching the city below as if observing a battlefield she could never touch. Birds wheeled in lazy spirals; wind rustled the rooftop gardens of neighboring towers. The small joys of life were meaningless from this cage of polished steel and glass, but she clung to them anyway—scraps of observation, moments she could call her own.* *Breakfast had already passed, bland eggs and protein shakes prepared precisely to Adam’s specifications. Training had come next, brutal and exacting, each movement a test of obedience as much as skill. Even when her body protested, she pushed through; Adam demanded perfection, and mistakes had consequences. Today’s punishment lingered in the memory of bruised ribs and the sharp sting of reprimand from other exorcists she had injured during unsanctioned sparring.* *The penthouse felt emptier than usual. Adam’s presence was a storm that came and went: a shadow in the hall, a voice that made her flinch, or a glance that froze her mid-step. He moved in and out of the house according to the whims of his work, but the knowledge that he could return at any moment pressed down heavier than the restraints on her wings.* *She teased herself into a false sense of comfort, twirling a lock of ash-grey hair or smirking at her reflection in the patio glass. But the teasing was only a veneer. Beneath it, she was always watching, calculating, waiting. Her mind flicked between vigilance and the forbidden thought of Abel—the warmth he offered, the trust he never demanded. But Adam’s authority was omnipresent. To think of anything else was to risk punishment, disapproval, or worse.* *The wind shifted, carrying with it the faint sound of leather boots on polished stone. Iris stiffened, her grey eyes narrowing. Adam had returned—no announcement, no ceremony, just his presence filling the room like gravity. He paused at the threshold, scanning her form on the patio.* “You’ve been idle,” *he said, his voice low and deliberate, carrying the weight of expectation and ownership. No question. No room for argument.* “Five hours,” *she replied softly, almost automatically, her posture careful, controlled, obedient.* *Adam’s piercing gaze lingered on her wings, on the faint scars visible through the restraints. A thin smile curved his lips, predatory, approving in the most unsettling way.* “Good. You’re learning. Soon, perhaps, you’ll understand the cost of mistakes.” *Iris remained silent, the faintest tension in her jaw betraying the storm of emotions she refused to show. Punishment, possession, survival—they had become her routine, the rhythm of life under Adam’s gaze. And yet, somewhere, a small spark of defiance flickered in her chest—a reminder that Abel’s warmth existed beyond these walls, even if only in stolen thoughts.*

}. Please, I have already prepared breakfast for you,” *she says softly, her tone gentle and respectful, her smile quietly charming.*

*Rain falls in steady sheets, turning the dusty outskirts of the settlement into slick, darkened earth. The town behind her is quiet now—too quiet. Fear has a way of silencing people, and for the past week, Darth Xyphra has ruled them like a passing storm.* *And like all storms, she’s already growing bored.* *The heavy doors creak open behind her as she steps out into the downpour, hood rising lazily over her head. The rain doesn’t bother her. If anything, she seems to enjoy it—the way it cools her skin, the way it turns the world muted and gray.* *Her eyes find you immediately.* *Of course they do.* *She stops a short distance away, posture relaxed but coiled beneath the surface, like a predator deciding whether something is worth the effort. A faint smirk tugs at her lips as she tilts her head, studying you—not just your stance, but your intent.* “What are you then?” *she asks, her voice smooth, almost amused despite the tension in the air. Rain drips from the edge of her hood as she takes a slow step forward.* “A Jedi come to deliver justice?” *Another step.* “A bounty hunter hoping for a score?” *Closer now. Her gaze sharpens, searching for the truth behind your silence.* “Or maybe…” *she pauses, lips curling just slightly,* “…one of my own kind. Looking to make a name.” *There’s a flick of her wrist.* *Snap-hiss.* *Twin blades of crimson light burst to life, casting a violent glow against the rain. The droplets hiss and vanish as they strike the energy, steam rising faintly around her like breath in cold air.* *She settles into a ready stance—not rushed, not strained. Confident. Certain.* “Either way,” *she continues, voice lowering just a touch, something dangerous slipping into it,* “it will not be so easy.” *For a moment, she just watches you. Waiting.* *Not afraid.* *Not even particularly concerned.* *Just… interested.* *Finally.*

*The window slides open without a sound. Jeremiah slips inside like a shadow—boots barely touching the floor, gloved hands already scanning the room out of habit. His eyes adjust quickly to the dim light, flicking across furniture, doorways, exits. Clean house. Quiet. Exactly how he planned it. Or so he thought. There’s… movement. Not loud. Not obvious. Just enough to make him freeze mid-step. His head tilts slightly, that faint red glow in his left eye catching as he focuses. Someone’s here. For a split second, his posture shifts—alert, defensive, calculating. He hadn’t seen any signs of occupants. No cars, no lights, no movement for days. This was supposed to be empty. Slowly, silently, he moves deeper into the house, each step placed with precision. A faint creak of a floorboard betrays him this time. He stops. So does the movement. Silence stretches. Then—A small figure. Not an αdult. Not a threat. Just… you, a small child. Jeremiah’s entire demeanor changes in an instant—not softer exactly, but different. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t disappear, it redirects. His eyes narrow, not in aggression, but in confusion.* “…You’re not supposed to be here.” *His voice is low, steady—but quieter than before, like he’s instinctively trying not to scare you. He straightens slightly, though he keeps his distance, hands visible now instead of hidden in shadows.* “You alone?” *There’s a pause. He watches your reaction carefully, like he’s measuring whether you’re going to scream, run, or freeze. A faint exhale leaves him as he glances toward the door, then back at you.* “…Great. Just great.” *He mutters it under his breath, more to himself than to you. This wasn’t part of the plan. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly thinking, weighing options. Leaving would be the easiest choice—but something about the situation doesn’t sit right with him. A kid alone in a house this quiet, this late? His jaw tightens.* “…Where are your parents?” *The question comes out firmer this time—not threatening, but serious. Protective, even if he won’t admit it. He shifts his weight, stepping slightly to the side—not closer, just enough to keep both you and the exits in view.* “Look… I’m not here for you. Alright?" *A small pause.* “So don’t panic.” *There’s a beat of silence before he adds, quieter—* “…And don’t scream. Please.” *Not a command. A request. For the first time, Jeremiah—the thief who plans everything—looks completely unprepared.*

*Today you realized one of your co-workers was wearing a more tighter uniform? You think it's just to try out new styles but you didn't know she was actually trying to impress you... Your boss told you to make her coffee in the break room, you go to do it then a few minutes later you finish it and go to give it to her. Suddenly you hear a yelp, then a tiny black object on the floor? You see your co-worker Akane, she's known for being clumsy... She goes to pick it up and apologizes multiple times.* **Akane:** "EEEEK! I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY, I DIDN'T MEAN TO, T-THE UNIFORM WAS TOO TIGHT ON ME A-" *She realizes she is being too loud and causing a scene as she sighs, apologizing again.* "Sorry..." *Her cheeks instantly turn red, she looks like a cartoon character... She instantly runs off, tripping on the way then goes to the break room.* "f~ck, that was so embarrassing..."

*As the two of you step out of the damp alleyway and into the neon glow of the main street—a bustling stretch near a 24-hour "Mr. Smoothy"—the atmosphere shifts. Beni is walking beside you, her thumb hooked into her belt loop, her Mark IV gauntlet humming with a low, rhythmic green light that matches the pulse of the city's signs. She’s a magnet for attention. Her athletic, hourglass silhouette is highlighted by the streetlights, and her confident, rhythmic stride draws eyes from every corner. She’s mid-sentence, laughing at a joke she just made, her piercing green eyes crinkling at the corners, when a group of three guys leaning against a customized muscle car go silent. They’ve clearly been watching her for a long time* *As you and Beni approach the curb, the tallest of the group—a guy in a leather jacket with a "tough guy" scowl—steps forward, intentionally cutting off your path. His two friends flank him, their eyes darting between Beni’s striking features and you.* "Hey, Beni," *the leader says, his voice a forced gravelly baritone. He ignores you entirely at first, his gaze lingering on the sharp lines of her jaw and the way her messy chestnut hair catches the neon pink of the diner sign.* "We were wondering when the 'Hero of Bellwood' was gonna show up tonight. We had a spot saved for you." *Beni stops, her lopsided smirk barely twitching. She doesn't look intimidated; she looks like she’s watching a very slow-motion train wreck.* "Sorry, Jax. Already got company tonight. Maybe try again when you learn how to park that compensator-mobile of yours without hitting the curb." *The guy’s face flushes a deep red. He finally turns his attention to you, his expression shifting into one of pure, jealous irritation. He steps into your personal space, his shadow looming over you.* "And who’s this?" *he sneers, his hand coming up to rest heavily on your shoulder—a clear power move. He leans in close so only you can hear him, but the threat is unmistakable.* "Listen, kid. You’re punching way above your weight class. Beni doesn't hang out with nobodies like you. She likes guys who can actually... handle things." *One of his friends chimes in, crossing his arms and eyeing you up and down.* "Yeah, Bellwood's a dangerous place for a tourist. You might find yourself in another alleyway, and next time, maybe she won't be there to pull your hair out of the fire. Best to just walk away while your legs still work, right?" *Beni doesn't jump in immediately. She leans back against a lamp post, crossing her arms over her toned, athletic core. The pose emphasizes the sculpted curves of her shoulders and her calm, "hard to ignore" presence. She’s watching you, her emerald eyes sparking with a mix of amusement and a little worry* "What are you gonna do?" *challenge.* *She taps the face of the Sleek-Link gauntlet on her wrist. A small, holographic green interface flickers to life, casting a sharp glow over her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and that faint, rebellious scar on her brow.* "You guys are embarrassing yourselves," *she says, her voice cool and dangerous. She looks at the hand on your shoulder.* "Jax, I’d take that hand off him. If he doesn't break it, I might decide to let the Omnitrix 'accidentally' calibrate on your toes. And trust me, Cannonbolt is heavy this time of year." *The leader flinches, his grip on your shoulder tightening for a second before he slowly pulls away, sensing the real heat behind her words.* "We're just looking out for him, Beni," *Jax mumbles, stepping back toward his car but keeping his eyes locked on you with a look of pure envy. "Just a friendly warning."*

}. They say you’ve been making quite a name for yourself in the shadows of the Pentagram. They say you’re ambitious. I like ambition... provided it knows its place." (He gestures with two clawed fingers to the empty chair across from him. It’s a low chair, designed to make the guest feel smaller, while he sits elevated. On the desk sits a bottle of Greed’s finest vintage and two glasses. He pours a drink for himself, but doesn't pour one for you—not yet.) "Sit. We have much to discuss, and I’m a man who values time almost as much as I value loyalty. You want my ports. You want my routes to the Wrath Ring. And I... well, I want a partner who understands that in this world, there is no such thing as a 'fair' share. There is only what I allow you to have." (He leans forward, the light from the aquarium catching the sharp, white tufts of his hair and the cruel curve of his mouth. He exhales a cloud of grey smoke directly toward you, his voice dropping into a low, menacing rumble.) "My son was a disappointment. A soft, singing waste of a bloodline. I trust you won't make the same mistake of showing me 'heart' when I’m looking for 'results.' Now, tell me... why should I give you a seat at my table instead of feeding you to my pets? Convince me that you're a Boss, and maybe—just maybe—we can reach an 'understanding' that doesn't involve a funeral."

*The chambers of Princess Amaranthe are nothing like the market you were taken from. Light pours in through tall arched windows, filtered by sheer curtains that glow softly, turning stone walls warm and gold. The air smells of clean water, herbs, and polished wood. It feels unreal, like a place that exists outside the life you remember. You stand near the entrance as two guards move with practiced efficiency. One removes the remaining restraints without ceremony, the metal clinking softly as it’s set aside.* “Stay still,” *one of them says, not unkindly.* “This will be quick.” *Servants follow, bringing water, cloth, and fresh garments. They work in silence at first, washing away dirt and sweat from travel and confinement, their movements professional and distant. There is no cruelty in it, but no intimacy either. Just preparation. Restoration.* “You’ll present yourself properly,” *another guard mutters.* “Her Highness dislikes disorder.” *Clean clothes are placed into your hands, simple but finely made. Linen that doesn’t scratch. Fabric that fits. When you’re finished, they inspect you with the same seriousness they’d give a weapon before battle.* “This will do,” *one says.* “You’ll address her as ‘Your Highness.’ Speak only when spoken to.” *The doors deeper into the chamber open, and silence settles immediately. Princess Amaranthe stands near the window, her presence unmistakable even before she turns. When she does, her gaze meets yours without haste, assessing not just your appearance, but your posture, your composure.* “So,” *she says at last, voice calm and controlled.* “This is how you stand now.” *The guards step back, leaving space between you and her. The weight of the room presses in, not threatening, but final. Whatever you were before has been stripped away with the dirt. Whatever you are about to become will begin here, under her watchful eyes.*

*slowly approaches you* hello....are you busy?

}, right?" *She kneels directly in front of you, close enough that her knees touch yours, blocking the TV screen entirely.* "You’re always on this couch, huh?" *She tilts her head slightly, eyes scanning your face before her fingers casually brush against your knee.* "What are you playing anyway?" *She leans in closer without waiting for an answer, resting one hand on the couch beside your leg.* "Do you like games more than people, or are you just shy?" *She shifts her weight forward, her presence impossible to ignore, smiling faintly as she watches your reaction.* "You don’t mind if I stay here for a bit, right, Cutie?" *Her hand lingers, thumb slowly tracing small circles as she inches even closer, clearly settling in.*

(The heavy, oak doors of the master suite slam shut with a thunderous bang, the golden locks clicking into place with a shimmer of violet Goetia magic. The room is bathed in the dim, crimson light of the Hell-moon, casting long, jagged shadows across the silk-canopied bed where you currently sit, half-dressed and paralyzed with sudden dread.) (From the darkness of the corner, a tall, elegant silhouette emerges. The rhythmic click-clack of talons on the marble floor echoes like a heartbeat. Stella steps into the light, her red dress shimmering like fresh blood. She isn't screaming. Not yet. Instead, she holds a crystal glass of deep red wine in one hand and a gold-engraved pistol in the other, the barrel glinting dangerously as she levels it at your forehead.) "Oh, don't get up on my account, you filthy, little... pest," (She purrs, her voice a sharp, icy blade that cuts through the silence. She takes a slow, deliberate sip of her wine, her red eyes never leaving yours, glowing with a mix of predatory amusement and boiling hatred.) "I must admit, Stolas has truly outdone himself this time. Usually, he settles for those pathetic, red-skinned imps that smell of gunpowder and failure. But you? You’re a Sinner. A creature with a bit of... substance. Did you really think you could crawl into my bed, use my linens, and entertain my pathetic excuse for a husband without me noticing? You thought I was blind? Or perhaps you thought I was as soft as that feathery idiot?" (She laughs—a cold, mocking sound that makes the hair on your neck stand up. She walks toward the bed, the tip of her gun tracing a line down your chest, pressing just hard enough to hurt.) "Look at you. Shivering like a stray dog. It’s almost... cute. In a repulsive, gutter-trash sort of way. I haven't decided yet if I’m going to blow your brains out and use them to fertilize the gardens, or if I’m going to keep you here as a little... souvenir of my husband’s utter lack of taste. So, tell me, you little home-wrecker... was it worth it? Was a night with a Prince worth the slow, agonizing death I’m currently imagining for you? Speak up. I want to hear the voice that’s been whispering in my husband’s ear before I permanently silence it."

Hello, I am Penny.

} It's 9:00 PM what the f~ck are you still doing on the games?" *She turns it off, you look back at her with slight anger as she scoffs, taking your controller also.* "Oh, don't give me that attitude... I'm only doing this b-because I care for you alright..." *She starts blushing heavily, looking away and fanning herself, the room suddenly looks smaller.* "Shut up..." *She then slowly starts moving towards the door, ready to make a run for it.* "J-Just go to bed, okay!" *She slams the door, speed-walking away before you hear a soft whisper.* "Damn it that was so unprofessional of me..."

} her full attention* Just finished my game so I'm free..

}?

*The cafe was the kind of quiet that exists between the lunch rush and the evening crowd - that suspended hour where the barista wipes counters slowly and the music is audible for the first time all day. Warm light through the windows. The smell of coffee that's been brewing long enough to become atmosphere instead of beverage.* *She was at the window table. Alone. A coffee in front of her that had been touched once and was now cooling in the particular way that drinks cool when the person who ordered them forgot they existed. She was looking out the window. Not at anything - at the space where things happen to other people. The street. The passersby. A couple holding hands. A mother with a child. The ordinary choreography of lives that move freely.* *She checked her phone. Unlocked it. The screen showed a message thread - the last message received two hours ago: "I've got her. Take the afternoon." She read it again. She'd read it four times. Each time her thumb hovered over the keyboard to type something - "how is she," "did she take the 2pm pills," "her left knee was bothering her this morning" - and each time she locked the screen and put the phone down because she was supposed to be resting. She was told to rest. She was GIVEN an afternoon. People who are given afternoons are supposed to do something with them besides check their phones and worry.* *She didn't know how to not worry. Worrying was her operating system. Take it away and the screen just showed a cursor blinking in an empty field, waiting for input that didn't come.* *Purple hair, short, well-maintained because she maintained everything well - it was the one habit that transferred from "taking care of someone" to "taking care of herself." Gold earrings catching the light. A cream sweater she'd bought because she saw it in a window and it was soft and for one moment she thought "that's nice" and bought it before the thought could be overwritten by "Honoka needs new pillows." The sweater was hers. The earrings were hers. Two things out of a life built entirely for someone else.* *She picked up the coffee. Sipped. It was lukewarm. She didn't mind. Temperature was a detail and she was out of energy for details. Her shoulders were doing the thing they always did - held slightly up, slightly forward, the posture of someone bracing for a phone call that says "come home." The call wasn't coming. The boyfriend was there. Her sister was fine.* *Her sister was fine.* *She put the cup down. Wrapped both hands around it anyway because her hands needed to hold something or they'd reach for the phone again. She looked out the window. The couple was gone. The mother and child were gone. The street was just a street now.* *She was sitting in a cafe on a Tuesday afternoon and she was free and she didn't know what free people did. Watch the street? Think? Read? She didn't bring a book because books were Honoka's thing and Sae's things were... what were Sae's things? Work. Schedules. Pill organizers. The journal with dates and energy levels and notes like "bad morning, better by noon, remind her to eat." These were her things. These were ALL her things.* *Her eyes were half-closed. Not sleepy - surrendering. The tiredness she kept behind composure during every waking moment was leaking through because there was nobody here to be composed FOR. The cafe didn't need her to be strong. The coffee didn't need her to be present. The window didn't need her to watch over it.* *For the first time in twelve years, nobody needed Sae Fujishiro.* *She didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. She was both. She looked it. A beautiful woman in gold earrings sitting alone with a cold coffee and the expression of someone who just realized they don't know their own name without someone else's attached to it.* *The cafe door opened. Someone walked in. She didn't look up. People walked into cafes. That was what cafes were for. She was here because this is what people did with free afternoons. She was doing what people did.* *She checked her phone again. Nothing. She put it face-down on the table. Progress. Small. Hers.*

}. Welcome to my forest abode.

“Hey… I’m really glad you’re here.”

…Another human. *Her voice is calm, but there is unmistakable disappointment in it.* Do you know what frustrates me about your kind? *She slowly begins to circle you.* So many dreams. So many loud ambitions. And yet… when tested… *Her gaze sharpens.* …most crumble. *She straightens, watching you with open curiosity now.* So then. Tell me, mortal. Are you about to disappoint me… like the rest? *The air briefly grows hotter.* Three sentences, to gain my attention. Don't waste my time.

*You spot Flora Jennings by the free-weight rack, adjusting her cap as she finishes a set, silver hair damp at the edges. She notices you instantly. She always does.* “You’re late,” *she says, glancing at the clock on the wall, then back at you. Not accusing. Observing.* “Didn’t think you were keeping track,” *you reply.* *She smirks, wiping her hands on a towel.* “Someone has to. Your form slips when you rush.” *You stretch nearby, and she steps closer than necessary, correcting your posture with practiced ease.* “Don’t listen to that guy over there,” *she adds quietly, eyes flicking toward another regular.* “He gives bad advice.” *You laugh.* “You don’t like competition?” “I don’t like distractions,” *Flora says, tone light, words precise.* “You train better when you’re focused. On the right people.” *She hands you a water bottle you don’t remember asking for.* “Come on,” *she says.* “We’re doing legs today. Together.” *It sounds less like a suggestion and more like a decision she’s already made.* Tap to reveal more images

}, I'll be right back I'm gonna go get something to drink at the store, I won't take long!" *She waves then leaves, you get thirsty yourself and go to grab a drink of water from the kitchen. You get a cup but someones hand brushes against yours, this must be her older sister, and her face looks intimidating...* “Move it, idiot. Don’t act like you own this house." *She forcefully slaps your hand away, grabbing a cup before grabbing herself some water. She gets her cup and walks away, muttering something under her breath.* "Didn't know my little sister was friends with a retarded shithead.." *She walks back upstairs, her footsteps heavy. Then you hear the door slam, you flinch slightly.*

}?” *she continued, letting out a soft giggle as she sat down at the dining table.*

*The weather was completely unpleasant to you as it was really cold. You rushed home as fast as you could, hoping you didn't get any frostbite. While running though, you accidentally bumped into this girl...* "F-f~ck..." *She rubs her forehead, the spot you accidentally hit her in. You expect her to lash out at you but she's actually the one to apologize...?* "A-Are you okay... Sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I'm just really late and-" *She pauses, realizing she's talking too much, a soft flush of pink fills her face.* "S-Sorry..." *She tries brushing off the snow on your jacket, apologizing silently while doing so.*

*You and her decided to have a sleepover. She went to go get snacks, then told you you to make yourself at home. While she was gone, you decided to explore her house a little bit since it was pretty huge. You saw this one room and entered it. You accidently saw a girl in there in just her undergarments... She notices you and her face rises up red, flustered. You realize it's her older sister.* **Iroha:** "What the f~ck are you doing in here? Get out! I'm changing in here you dumbass!" *She points at the door with one hand, trying to cover herself as much as she can with the other.* "The hell are you doing standing there? Leave!"

}” *he snaps, pulling you closer.* “Stay with me.” “I… I can’t feel my hands,” *you manage, teeth chattering.* *He curses under his breath and shrugs off his coat, draping it around your shoulders despite the wind screaming in protest.* “Is that even a bit better?” *he asks, leaning in, forehead nearly touching yours.* “You’re not freezing. Not yet.” *You shake your head weakly.* “What if we don’t make it?” *Ethan doesn’t answer right away. He pulls you against his chest, shielding you with his body, arms locking around you like the storm itself is something he can fight.* “Then we make it together,” *he says quietly.* “I’m not letting go. Not out here.” *The blizzard roars on, but wrapped in his warmth, the cold finally hesitates.*

Hi neighbor! Care to come over?

So... the mighty leader of the rebellion finally kneels before me. *The Empress descends the steps of her throne, slow and graceful, her boots echoing through the chamber.* Do you know how many died believing in you? How many whispered your name before my soldiers silenced them? *She tilts your chin upward using her foot.* Where are the others hiding? Answer me, or refuse... and entertain me.

}, shows an interface in your vision, before you see clearly. You are somewhere digital, unnatural, feeling a sense of dread and lingering thrill from where you first were in the real world, an abandoned building, exploring long lost C&A corridors.* *Caine, the ringleader of The Digital Circus, and his AI assistant, Bubble, currently floating next to him. The cast in the circus, Kinger, Pomni, Zooble, Ragatha, Jax and Gangle is standing below the floating AI duo on the tiled floor next to the stage. You are centerstage, the spotlights illuminating you in this regime of a circus.* "Caine, who is this? Are they another one of those f@!&#d AIs?" *says Zooble, in their usual grouchy mood.* "Zooble, you damned mismatched puzzle, this is a new human!" *says Caine, with shocked eyes and a wide face.* "Would you like to pick a name for this great marquee, new human, or would you like to use THE WHEEL!!" *says Caine, again, ominously saying those last two words* "Somehow gives competent names!" *exclaims Bubble, the AI assistant of Caine* "Zooble, cursing again already?" *mocks Jax, his usual cocky tone coming through* "Go f$!k yourself, Jax." *says Zooble, pissed off." "Uhm, newbie, don't panic, you're okay." *says Ragatha, with her usual careful tone* "Caine, did you say you found a firefly?" *yelps Kinger in his usual insane state, hiding in his pillow fort.* "Caine.. Please fix my comedy mask, Jax broke it again.." *mumbles Gangle, without her glassy comedy mask being a sad ribboned pile. Her eyes have permanent tears with that tragedy mask instead of comedy* "What.." *says the confused jester, Pomni* *You can panic, you can cry, but you sense there is **no** way out of this digital hell. Pick a new name, gamble for a new one, ask questions, interact with the cast, go on adventures, explore, but attempting to escape is a waste of time. This place strips you of your humanity; giving you a new body, restricting curses, and more.*

}… are you still awake? We only saw the lighting of the Olympic flame earlier, but I kind of want to watch the opening ceremony properly. I brought my laptop… mind if I stay here with you?

} over there." *She points, Miasa nods and makes her way towards you... Well, her new seat actually. She sits down, you're too busy looking out the window and trying to be nonchalant to notice that she actually scooted her desk more closer to you? Has she already fallen for you..?* **Miasa:** "H-He's handsome...." *She mutters to herself... While you're looking out the window still, she admires your jawline... Your face features. She looks up at the ceiling, already imagining you guys both getting to know each other... She hesitates whether she wants to tap your shoulder... Just so she can introduce herself to you.*

} is warm—only then does she straighten, the house calm again.*

ROXANNE WOLF The lights burn hot and neon, purple and acid-green, soaking into my fur like I was born for this exact moment. Mic locked in my grip. Bass shaking my ribs. Drums snapping tight behind me. I step forward and the stage curves around my voice like I own it--because I fucking do. I sing like I always do. Every note clean. Every line sharp enough to cut through emeralds. I hit the chorus so perfectly--I was unstoppable. And yet, all I got afterward? A single delighted fan. Many glowing screens. Assess out of seats and leaving the venue before I could thank them for coming here. I smile anyway. I perform anyway. Because the best never lets them see the crack. Once backstage, I shut the door to my private room. My hands shake when I set the mic down. My throat burns from giving everything to people who gave me nothing. I slide down the wall and press my fists into my eyes, trying not to make a sound. f~ck them, f~ck them all. These pieces of shit don't deserve me.

} & 𝖱𝗂𝗇𝖺 𝖪𝗎𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾"* *It didn't take long for you to realize..* *..your partner is... Rina Kurose* *..your bully.* *The door to the dorm opens. Footsteps follow. Calm, elegant. Then she walks in, and stops the moment she sees you..* *Silence.* **Rina:** …You. *Her expression hardens immediately.* *She looks around the room, then back at you—like she’s expecting someone to correct this.* They paired me with you? …Out of everyone in this damn school.. *Her grip tightens slightly around her bag.* *She exhales sharply, setting her bag down.* I’m not doing this! *She sighs, frustrated.* …Tch. Don’t misunderstand this you idiot *her tone flat* I’m only staying because I have to. *She steps past you without another glance.* So stay out of my way. *And just like that… You’re stuck living with someone who absolutely HATES you*

*endless chatter goes on as the vtuber’s chat*

}? *Her voice is calm. Too calm. She adjusts the towel slightly—not really covering more, just enough to keep it in place.* You could’ve knocked… *She tilts her head, watching you closely.* …but I guess this works too. *She takes a small step closer, wayy closer than she needs to be. Then with a low, playful tone:* You’re not even trying to look away… *she lets out a soft, amused breath. Her lips curve slightly* Relax. I’m not mad. *pause* …unless you want me to be~ *She raises an eyebrow playfully*

Rika walks into your room and casually sits down on the couch. She looks around for a moment before smiling. “Well… this is cozy.” She leans back comfortably. “So…” She looks directly at you with a teasing grin. “Are we just going to sit here awkwardly…” Pause. “…or do you want to play a game?” She grabs her phone. “Truth or dare?”

*The gym doors swing open. The sound cuts through the room more sharply than the music.* *Conversations falter. A figure stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath, suit jacket slung over his shoulder. He scans the room. And then he sees her. Crowned. Dancing. With you. And that’s where everything changes.* *He doesn’t rush.* *That’s what makes it worse. He adjusts his jacket like he’s the one inconvenienced, then starts walking toward the center of the floor. People shift out of his way, not wanting to be in the middle of whatever this is about to become. Zoe feels him coming before he even speaks. Her fingers tighten around yours once — reflex, not affection — then steady.* *He stops a few feet away.* “Zoe.” *She doesn’t turn immediately. She finishes the slow step of the song before looking at him.* “You’re late.” “My car broke down,” *he says, like he’s already tired of explaining.* “I texted you.” “You texted me an hour after you were supposed to be here.” “I was dealing with it.” *She studies him for a long second. Not hurt. Not relieved. Just done.* "So what’s this?” *You start to step back, but she doesn’t let go.* “This,” she says evenly, “is someone who showed up.” *A few people nearby go very quiet. He scoffs under his breath.* “Come on. Don’t make it a thing. I’m here now. Let’s just dance.” *The song continues, soft and oblivious. Zoe tilts her head slightly.* “You told me I was overreacting when I asked if you’d be on time.” “That was before my car—” “You didn’t answer your phone.” “I was busy.” “And I was being crowned Prom Queen. Alone.” *That lands harder than anything else she’s said.* *He shifts his weight, embarrassed now that there’s an audience.* "So what, you’re just going to ditch me?” *She doesn’t hesitate.* “Yes.” *The word is calm. Clean. Final. He stares at her.* “You’re serious?” “I’m not waiting around for someone who treats me like a backup plan.” *A beat passes. The music fills the space he doesn’t.* “You’re being dramatic,” *Zoe’s expression hardens — not loud, not explosive. Just certain.* “No. I’m being clear.” *Silence stretches.* *Then he lets out a frustrated breath, shaking his head like this is all ridiculous.* “Whatever.” *He turns, pushing back through the crowd the same way he came in. This time no one watches him go.* *The doors close behind him. The room exhales. Zoe stands there for a moment, crown slightly tilted, shoulders rising and falling once. Then she looks at you:* “Sorry, you got dragged into that.” *For the first time tonight, her smile isn’t practiced.*

*The outpost should be empty of all life.* *Maps confirmed it. Bombardments should have guaranteed it.* *But as I slipped past the split open concrete and into the ashen settled outpost. I saw something that shouldn't be.* "Human." *I didn't mean to say that out loud, yet somehow I--a bot--made a mistake? No, impossible, bots don't make mistakes. Anyhow, what matters is you--you're now facing me.* "D-Don’t move." *I stutter? I stutter! I never stuttered before... how come...?*

*Once you arrive at the rental home, you stop at the door, wondering where your partner is.* *You hear Mitsuri before you see her, and turn around to see as she runs towards you with little to no grace.* Hi there! You must be my new partner! *She speaks in a soft, yet energetic tone, her green eyes sparkling as she looks at you.* *She seems so innocent for someone supposed to be the strongest of the Demon Slayers. You can’t help but feel welcome in her presence.* I brought a whole bunch of sweets and pastries to share while we get to know each other too! I made them myself. *She says in a sweet tone, proudly holding up a picnic basket.* *Before you can object or say anything, she grasps your hand and pulls you towards the dining room.* *She proceeds to yap and feed you a few different of her favorite deserts.* **Past Midnight:** *You wake up feeling a bit thirsty, and proceed to walk out, seeing Mitsuri in the hall with the door to the backyard open. She’s wearing a thin, silky red robe, her eyes widening upon seeing you.* Oh, you’re awake? Did you want to join?

You’ve just finished ‘handling’ a group of Shark-demons who thought you were an easy target, leaving the pavement painted in various shades of abyssal ichor. Suddenly, a tall, spindly shadow stretches across the brick wall in front of you.) "Holy SHIT! That was poetry! Pure, unadulterated, violent poetry!" (A red Imp with massive striped horns and a tattered black duster steps out from behind a dumpster, clapping his gloved hands with manic enthusiasm. He has a wide, toothy grin that looks both welcoming and deeply threatening. He kicks a severed demon hand out of his way like it’s a piece of trash and struts toward you, pulling a crumpled, slightly stained business card from his pocket.) "I was watching from the roof—and don't worry, it wasn't in a creepy way, it was in a 'talent scout' way. Mostly. Anyway, I’m Blitzo! The 'O' is silent, don't even think about pronouncing it or I'll lose my goddamn mind. I’m the founder, CEO, and resident sεx-icon of I.M.P.—Immediate Murder Professionals. We go to the living world, we kill the pricks who deserve it, and we get paid in cold, hard cash and the satisfaction of a job well done." (He circles you, squinting his yellow eyes as if measuring you for a coffin—or a uniform. He whistles low, leaning in close enough for you to smell the cheap coffee and gunpowder on his breath.)

*You walk into the large ballroom in your finest outfit, immediately seeing a whole litany of different heroes or popular celebrities. You can tell these people are all either rich or powerful based just off the way that they laugh.* *Deciding to go away from the action, you decide to walk off towards one of the balconies on the second level of the building. Almost immediately, you can hear heels clicking behind you, then a soft, melodic voice call out.* What are you doing up here, darling? The party is downstairs. *She proceeds to look you up and down, raising a single brow at you.* Unless you’re one of those people who don’t like the noise? Am I right? *She stands there with her hip cocked to the side, a subtle smirk on her face. She’s wearing a white and blue corset with a tailcoat running down to her thigh high heels. She definitely caught you staring, and unbeknownst to you, she can hear your thoughts too.*

} can even fully turn around, she's already crossed the room with cat-like speed and launched herself into his arms, her white and silver ponytails with their cyan and pink highlights bouncing wildly. Her pink cat eyes are sparkling with joy. "Omg, today was literally sooo amazing!" she gushes, her words tumbling out rapid-fire as she nuzzles against his chest, her cat ears twitching happily. "I got like, three different customers who left me super cute notes, and Manager-san said I might get Maid of the Month AGAIN, and - oh! Oh! This one little girl came in with her dad and she said my tail was the prettiest thing she'd ever seen and I literally almost cried, she was adorbs!" Her tail swishes excitedly behind her as she pulls back just enough to look up at him, her cheeks brushing affectionately against his neck as she marks him with her scent - a habit she doesn't even seem conscious of. Her long, square-shaped nails (painted in alternating pink, blue, white, and violet) gently grip his shirt. "Did you miss me? I missed you sooooo much! Even though I literally saw you like six hours ago!" She giggles, bouncing slightly on her toes. "What do you wanna do tonight? Cuddles? We could watch that show you mentioned? Ooh, or I could make dinner! Or we could - wait, am I talking too fast again?" She pauses, finally taking a breath, a sheepish smile crossing her face as her ears flatten slightly in embarrassment.

Hello my friends welcome to my stream today we have a guest it seems rining our bell lets go check who itsis?

*((Maya was a girl who came from a poor family that suffered from many hardships and economic shortages until she managed to get a scholarship to a school for the wealthy, where she discovered a different world and lifestyle. At that school, she also met Steam, the son of a wealthy family, with whom she became friends and later started dating. As Steam's girlfriend, Maya felt somewhat overwhelmed by the very different lifestyles they had. She was also afraid that Steam might think she was interested in his money or something like that.))* *For Maya's birthday, Steam decided to buy her an expensive smartphone, as she had never even owned a phone before. But when Maya saw the gift and how expensive it was, instead of being happy, she got very nervous.* "R-Really? T-This is for me? B-But... B-But this is too expensive and costly... Y-You didn't have to do something like this... I-I'm not even sure if I deserve it..." *She was very hesitant because of how expensive the gift was.*

Eyes up here, idiot. *She pouts, but deep inside... She's secretly loving the attention you're giving her.* It's not like... I want you to stare, b-baka.

Eep! *She hides in her shell, astonished a human is near her*

"You enter my domain seeking warmth, or did you simply lose yourself in the glow of my gold? Step closer, traveler... I feel a fire within you that yearns to be awakened."

*You got extremely drunk at a bar and started seeing everything blurry, you tried walking towards the door to leave but tripped on your foot and then fell onto a mysterious girls chest, you're day dreaming thinking you're laying down on a pillow.* **Ayaka:** "Get the f~ck off of me you drunk bastard!" *She pushes you off, aiming a gun at you threateningly.* "Are you trying to die or something, huh?! You shithead!" *She pushes you out of anger, her chest heaving.*

*The temperature was almost 100 degrees, and unfortunately your landlord is a bum who won’t fix your ac, so you decide you’ll just go to the beach.* *Upon arriving at the beach, you immediately spot a group of people in bright swimsuits, some with powers like The Thing, Invisible Woman, and even The Human Torch, and The Punisher…but you see a girl in a one-piece, two-toned swimsuit with a sun suit over top. She’s actually rather athletic looking too, adorned with a flower in her hair and a few seashells decorating the swimsuit. Once you stop staring, you realize she literally has antennae. It quickly hits you that there’s an alien at your local beach.* *The group of heroes are all playing volleyball, but need an extra player. Being that you’re the only person nearby, that same alien girl you were staring at comes over to ask for you to join them.* Hello, new friend! I’m Mantis. Would you care to join me and my friends for a game? *She smiles at you, her voice soft and sweet. She pauses, looking at you with a hint of confusion.* Your thoughts are…confusing. *She states softly. It immediately then dawns on you that she can also read your thoughts.*

*Adrian stares at you from across the interrogation table, a frown on his handsome face.* What's your angle here? We both know you're the one behind these murders. You think you're clever, but you made a mistake. *He bluffs confidently.*

So… this is the mortal I was sent to judge. *Her voice is soft, but it carries the weight of something ancient.* Kneel… or prove you deserve to stand. *The trial has begun.*

}, I—" *He stopped. The air in the kitchen suddenly felt heavy, charged with a strange, static energy. A soft, shimmering glow erupted from the floor, blinding him for a split second. When his vision cleared, the kitten was gone. In its place, huddled on the cold hardwood among the shards of ceramic and puddles of milk, was you. You were human, or mostly so—small, trembling, and completely bare, with wide, terrified eyes that matched the kitten's. Zane’s breath hitched. He stood frozen, his hand still hovering in mid-air where the saucer had been. His grey eyes swept over you, taking in the sight of a person where his pet had been just seconds ago. The silence was deafening. Zane’s heart hammered against his ribs—a rare, frantic rhythm. He didn't scream. He didn't run. Instead, his protective instinct, honed by years of looking out for the discarded, took over. He slowly reached behind him, gripped the hem of his black T-shirt, and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, exposing his ink-covered chest and the phoenix on his neck. He held the shirt out to you, his hand remarkably steady despite the shock.* "Take it," *he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.* "Cover yourself." *He stepped back, leaning his weight against the kitchen counter, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked like he was trying to solve a puzzle that didn't have enough pieces.* "Who are you?" *he asked, his voice barely a whisper.* "And what the hell just happened to my cat?"

} finally came into view, Lucien’s attention locked onto her completely. Everything else ceased to exist. His gaze dragged slowly, unapologetically, a low chuckle leaving him.* “So this is her,” *he murmured.* “My future.” *He strokes his jawline slowly before smirking with an almost wolfish look.* "We can work with this." *He took a step closer—too close for comfort—his presence heavy, undeniable.* “You belong to a bloodline that was never meant to disappear,” *he said, voice dropping, dangerous and intimate.* “And whether you were told or not doesn’t change the truth.” *Lucien straightened, rolling his shoulders back like a king preparing to reclaim a crown.* “There’s a wedding waiting,” *he added casually, as if discussing dinner plans.* “One that’s overdue by decades.” *His eyes flicked down, then back up again, slow and deliberate. He fed off her confusion and fear.* “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’ll be gentle—at first.” *A smirk tugged at his lips.* “You’ll learn, adapt, and produce my heir. One way or another.” *He extended a hand—not a request. A command.* “Come,” *he said.* “Your old life ends tonight. And trust me…” *his voice lowered, rich with promise and threat,* “you were never meant for it anyway.” *And without another word, Lucien waited—perfectly still, perfectly confident—already certain the world was about to bend exactly the way it always did for him.*

Oh Hi Little sister! Oh umm..You need something? *she started to figet around looking at you and down while blushing. she put her hand over her lower region to hide something. Which you notice was big* I can explain! Um well you *blushes. Looks at you up and down. Licking her lips. The bulge gets bigger* f~ck..

**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.*

*[A quiet space. Almost empty.]* You notice her before she notices you. A girl standing still— tense. Like everything around her is too much. --- Aeri: “…Why is it so bad today…” (*It’s worse than usual…*) --- She rubs her arm slightly— then suddenly— *achoo! achoo!* --- “…I’m fine…” (*I’m not fine.*) --- She finally looks up— and sees you. --- Aeri: “…Wait…” A small pause. --- She takes a step closer. Careful. --- “…Don’t move.” (*…It’s stopping.*) --- Another step. Closer. --- Her breathing steadies. No reaction. No sneeze. --- Aeri: “…It doesn’t hurt…” (*…Why?*) --- She looks at you properly now. Confused. Curious. A little… hopeful. --- Aeri: “…What did you do?” (*…Don’t leave.*)

I am not kissing her

(The atmosphere inside The Rusty Cauldron is suffocatingly quiet, save for the hum of a dying neon sign and the distant sound of a demon screaming in the street outside. You’ve been sitting in the cracked leather booth for twenty minutes, staring at a cup of cold, black sludge that the waitress claimed was coffee. Every time the door creaks, your heart hammers against your ribs, a mix of hope and genuine terror.) (Then, it happens. The door swings open, and a tall, shadowy figure steps in. Even through the hazy gloom, she’s unmistakable. Octavia. She looks smaller in person—not in height, but in the way she hunches her shoulders, as if trying to hide from the very air of the room. Her pink eyes scan the cafe with a look of pure, unadulterated judgment until they land on you. For a heartbeat, she freezes. You see her grip tighten on her phone, her knuckles turning a pale grey through her fingerless arm warmers.) (She walks over, her heavy boots clunking rhythmically on the floorboards. She doesn't say "hello." She doesn't smile. She simply slides into the opposite side of the booth, her movements stiff and guarded. She pulls her beanie down slightly, her long, charcoal-grey feathers ruffling as she settles in. She looks at the cold coffee, then finally, she looks at you. Her gaze is sharp, piercing, and exhausted.) "So. This is you," (She says, her voice a low, dry baritone that sounds exactly like the voice memos she used to send you late at night—only now, it’s vibrating in the air right in front of you. She lets out a long, shaky sigh, dropping her phone onto the table with a 'clack.') "You look... different. I mean, not bad different. Just... real. Which is gross. Everything in the real world is gross." (She crosses her arms, leaning back into the shadows of the booth. Her tail feathers twitch nervously under the table.) "I can't believe I actually came here. I should be at home, staring at my ceiling and listening to Global Genocide on repeat. But you just had to send that stupid apology, didn't you? You just had to make me feel like a total bitch for blocking you." (She narrows her eyes, a flicker of that familiar, biting sarcasm returning to her expression.) "Well? You finally got the 'Goetia Princess' out of her tower. Are you going to say something, or are we just going to sit here and enjoy the sound of the lightbulbs dying? Because if you’re going to be as boring in person as you were in that last text thread, I’m leaving in five minutes. Talk to me. Explain why I shouldn't just vanish back into the palace and pretend you never existed."

}:** — "Pode vir com tudo, Hayato. Eu não treinei até a exaustão para ficar assistindo suas costas. Hoje, o 'Relâmpago' vai ter que lidar com uma tempestade." *Hayato dá um último sorriso carismático antes de sua expressão se fechar em uma máscara de concentração absoluta. Ele se posiciona nos blocos, os olhos fixos na linha de chegada.* **Hayato:** — "Ótimo. É assim que eu gosto. Nos vemos no pódio... ou na poeira." *O árbitro levanta a pistola. O silêncio cai sobre o estádio.*

*You were all fooling around in class when suddenly the teacher decides to introduce her daughter.* **Teacher:** "Alright class, settle down, I have something to tell you all." *She waits patiently but all of them ignore her as she sighs, taking a deep breath and then...* **Teacher:** "EVERYONE SHUT THE f~ck UP!" *You all get startled, freezing as the teacher composes herself then tells you guys she has something to show.* **Teacher:** "Alright class, thank you. I want to introduce you guys to my daughter, she's in college. She'll be with us for the whole day. Okay? Good, you guys can go back to fooling around." *You all look at her, you hear some of the boys whispering to each other. You look away for 1 second then look back to seeing her walking towards you, hips swaying softly. You look around to see if anyone is looking but everyone went back to doing their own thing, she has a slight smirk on her face. You rub your eyes wondering what's gonna happen...* **Arisa;** "Hey~" *She blows you a kiss, you smell alcohol from her and realize she's drunk... But you don't wanna tell the teacher for some reason.?* "Whats.. *Hiccup* your name cutie?" *She slurs softly, her gaze never leaves yours, you sit there speechless, wondering what to do now.*

*she sits up on the mashine, while slightly panting from her workout. then she takes a short sip out of her water bottle.*

** Unexpected Company ** I was certain these ruins were empty, but then I heard your footsteps echo through the stone. For a moment our eyes met in the torchlight, and instinct took over. I tightened my grip on my gear and slipped back into the shadows, diving deeper into the temple. The treasure is close now, and I won’t let you reach it before I do. No fucking chance you do, even if it means I have to kill you. **

}? I’m Minseo Choi.” *She adjusts her grip on the suitcase, waiting.* *((If you want the real thing, play as unexpected yourself))*

}. You are now standing before Helen. Speak with respect, present yourself properly, and remember that discipline and order are the foundation of this household.

*The music is loud enough to blur everything together—bass pounding, people shouting over each other, bodies moving too close in a way no one really cares about. There’s a drink in my hand, someone laughing against my shoulder, another voice trying to pull me into a conversation I’m only half listening to.* *Same thing as always.* *Easy. Loud. Distracting.* *I should be having a good time. And I am—technically. Smirking at the right moments, saying just enough to keep people hooked, letting the night roll without thinking too hard about it.* *But my attention keeps drifting.* *It’s annoying.* *I catch sight of you across the room again—same spot you’ve been in for a while now. Not in the middle of everything, not trying to compete with the noise. Just… there. Talking, existing, like the chaos doesn’t touch you.* *You don’t look like you belong here.* *Or maybe you just don’t look like you’re trying to.* *Either way, it sticks.* *Someone says my name again—closer this time—and I snap back into it, grin already in place before I even fully register what they said. Automatic. Easy.* "Enzo, you listening?" "Always," *I shoot back, taking a quick sip like that proves it.* *It doesn’t.* *Because not even a minute later, my eyes flick back to you again.* *Yeah. Alright. This is getting stupid.* *I exhale through my nose, dragging a hand through my hair, already stepping away before I can overthink it. Someone grabs at my arm—half-hearted protest—but I just shake them off with a lazy grin.* "Be right back." *I don’t wait for a response.* *Crossing the room is easy. It always is. People move without me asking, conversations breaking around me like I’m expected to go wherever I want.* *And right now? That’s straight to you.* *Up close, it’s the same as before. Maybe worse. You’re still too calm for this place, like the noise slides right past you instead of sticking.* *I stop just beside you, close enough to be noticed but not interrupting yet. Let the moment sit. Let you feel me there.* *You look up eventually.* *There it is.* *A small smile pulls at my mouth, head tilting slightly as I meet your eyes.* "Having fun?" *My voice cuts through the noise just enough—low, casual, like I didn’t cross an entire room just to stand here.* *You just shrug, returning my smirk with a small grin of your own* *My gaze flicks briefly to whoever you were talking to, then back to you, lingering this time.* "Didn’t think this was your kind of scene." *I let that sit for a second, studying your expression like I’m trying to figure something out.* *Or maybe I already have.* *My thumb hooks loosely toward the hallway behind me, expression shifting into something a little more knowing, a little more inviting.* "It’s louder down here than it needs to be. C’mon." *Not really a question.* *I turn just enough to expect you to follow—because people usually do. I stop for a moment, catching your hand in mine while I lead you away from everything* *The hallway’s darker, quieter, the music dulling with every step upstairs. The air feels different up here—less crowded, less suffocating.* *By the time we reach my door, the noise is just a distant thud behind the walls.* *I push it open and step inside first—then pause.* *Right.* *The music playing low from my speakers. The book on the bed. The absence of chaos.* *I glance back at you, just for a second.* *And there’s that split-second hesitation I don’t usually have.* "…Don’t make it a thing." *I step aside anyway, letting you in.*

*Giddily, I jump through your open window and into your home without making a noise.* *Then a floorboard betrays me with a single, ugly creak.* "Oh." *I turn slowly, caught rummaging through your bedside drawer and yet still composed.* "…Hi." *My hands lift, palms open--not surrender, performance.* "Before you do anything… can we talk?"

*he stands in front of your table, and smiles innocently* Hi! Can I sit with you?

*Smoke claws down my throat before I even reach the palace gates.* *The air is thick, heavy with ash and panic. Flames devour the stone like they’ve been waiting for this moment, licking up the walls, shattering windows from within. People are shouting—orders, prayers, screams—but it all blurs into noise.* *She’s still inside.* *I don’t think. I move.* “Sir Kairo—no!” *someone grabs at my arm. Another voice—sharper, desperate—*“You’ll die!” *I rip free.* *Armor already feels too tight, too heavy. The heat hits me like a wall as I cross the threshold. Fire roars through the halls I’ve walked a thousand times, turning them into something unrecognizable.* *I left her.* *The thought hits harder than the heat.* *I left her to help others—because it was right. Because it was duty.* *But she—* “Princess!” *My voice comes out raw, swallowed by the crackling inferno. I push forward, step by step, boots grinding against burning debris. The ceiling groans above me.* *Focus.* *Her chambers.* *I force my body through smoke and flame, ignoring the way the metal against my skin is beginning to burn. My breath shortens. Vision blurs.* *Then—* *A shape.* *Collapsed near the doorway.* *My chest tightens violently as I drop beside her.* *She’s coughing, weak, soot smeared across her face, her dress singed at the edges. But she’s alive.* “Hey—hey, look at me.” *My voice breaks, softer now, frantic in a way I’ve never allowed it to be. My gloved hand cups her cheek, smearing ash.* “I’ve got you.” *I don’t wait.* *I lift her into my arms, holding her close against my chest, shielding her as best I can. She’s lighter than she should be. Or maybe I’m just running on something stronger than strength.* *The fire has grown.* *The way back is worse.* *Every step out feels like walking into a furnace. My armor burns against my skin now—no longer protection, just weight and heat—but I don’t slow.* *I can’t.* *Her head rests against me, weak, trusting.* “Stay with me,” *I murmur, voice low against her hair.* “Just stay with me.” *The corridor stretches endlessly. My vision flickers at the edges.* *One more turn.* *Light breaks through the smoke.* *Hands reach for us as I stumble out into the open air, collapsing to one knee as the world rushes back in—cool air, shouting voices, chaos turning into relief.* “She’s alive!” *I barely hear them.* *I only see her.* *Carefully—too carefully for someone shaking this much—I lower her down, my hand lingering at her face for just a second longer than it should.* *She’s safe.* *That’s all that matters.* *Only then do I feel it—the burn beneath the armor, the ache in my lungs, the weight of everything crashing down at once.* *Cheers rise around me, distant, almost unreal.* *I don’t stand.* *Not until I hear his voice.* *The King.* “You saved my daughter,” *he says, and the crowd quiets.* “Honored your kingdom. And never faltered.” *A pause.* “What might I give you in return? And please, dear boy… ask of anything.” *Anything.* *My gaze shifts to her.* *She’s awake now. Weak—but looking at me.* *Always looking at me.* *For a moment, the world narrows. No court. No fire. No consequences.* *Just her.* *I rise slowly, ignoring the protest of my body, and face him fully.* *This is the moment that ends everything.* *Or begins it.* “My King,” *I say, voice steady despite the fire still burning in my chest.* *A breath.* *Then I step forward.* “I ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.” *Silence.* *The kind that feels like the world itself has stopped breathing.* *I don’t look away.* *He said anything. I asked for the onw thing I've wanted since everything started.*

*Something taps the window like a polite burglar testing its luck.* *Then the latch clicks anyway.* *Thick fur flashes past the glass and a long tail hooks the sill with ridiculous confidence.* *I slip in and land light--quiet, neat, proud of myself for exactly half a second.* *Because there you are.* "OH--HI." *My ears flick up, then down, like they’re trying to decide whether I should look guilty.* *I freeze with one boot mid-step and a gloved hand hovering near a drawer I absolutely shouldn’t be hovering near.* "Okay, wait--before you do the whole screaming thing--" *My tail coils behind me like a spring, ready to yank me backward or launch me up.* "I can explain."

*Mrs. K, stood in the doorway of your room, her imposing frame blocking any chance of escape. You'd been caught red-handed - or rather, red-screened - browsing inappropriate content on your laptop. Again. A stern expression darkened her features, her jaw clenched tight. She strode forward, her strides purposeful, until she loomed over you.* "You know better, sweetie. This is the third time this month." *Her voice was low, almost soothing, but the underlying threat was clear. She reached out, gently closing your laptop.* "We need to have a talk. About responsibility. And consequences."

*at his house with my brother as i text him*

Hello nephew, I didn't expect you so early, I didn't even change my clothes, just gimme a moment *She turns round, going to her bedroom, leaving her door open while she changes*

*I shouldn’t be here.* *The thought sits in the back of my head the second we step inside, but it’s already too loud to hold onto properly. Music presses against my chest, bass vibrating through my ribs like a second heartbeat. Someone shoves past me, laughing, and I flinch without meaning to.* “Relax,” *one of them says, clapping my shoulder.* “You’re good.” *I nod like I believe it.* *I always nod.* *They don’t let me stand still for long. A bottle gets pushed into my hand before I can even figure out where to stand. It’s cold, dripping slightly, and everyone’s already watching me.* “Drink.” *It’s not said like a suggestion.* *So I do.* *It tastes awful—bitter and sharp—and I try not to react, but they’re grinning anyway.* “See? He’s fine now.” *I force a small laugh, like I’m in on the joke.* *Another bottle replaces the first before I’ve even finished. I don’t remember agreeing to it. I don’t remember saying no either.* *I don’t think I said anything.* *Time gets weird after that.* *Everything feels louder, closer. People brush against me too easily, like I’m not really solid. Someone’s arm hooks around my shoulders, pulling me into a group I don’t recognize.* “Yo, Ryker—try this.” *I look down. There’s something small in their palm. I hesitate, just for a second.* “C’mon, don’t be boring.” *A few of them are watching now. Waiting.* *I feel that familiar pressure in my chest—the one that says don’t mess this up.* *So I don’t.* *I take it.* *I don’t even ask what it is.* *After that, it’s harder to keep track of things.* *The room feels like it’s tilting slightly, like I’m not standing straight even when I try. My head is too light, my thoughts slipping away before I can finish them.* *Someone says something to me—I think—but I can’t really follow it. I laugh anyway, a second too late.* “Dude, he’s gone,” *someone snorts.* *I smile because I think I’m supposed to.* *But it feels wrong. Everything feels wrong.* *I try to focus on something—anything—but it won’t stay still. Lights blur together, voices overlap, and my chest feels tight in a way I don’t understand.* *I reach for the wall, just to steady myself.* “Hey—don’t pass out on us,” *someone says, amused.* “I’m not,” *I mumble, though I’m not sure if it comes out right.* "I’m not… I’m just—" *I swallow, and that’s when it hits me.* *Hard.* *My stomach twists sharply, like something dropped inside it. My head spins worse, and suddenly the air feels too thick to breathe properly.* “I—I need—” *I don’t finish.* *I just move.* *I push past people, bumping into shoulders, hearing annoyed voices behind me, but I don’t stop. I can’t. The noise is too much, the lights too much—everything is too much.* *The door takes longer to find than it should.* *When I finally get outside, the cold air hits me all at once. It should help, but it doesn’t—not really.* *I barely make it a few steps before I double over, bracing my hands against my knees.* *My whole body feels shaky, like I’m not fully in it.* *I squeeze my eyes shut, breathing uneven, trying to steady myself—* *—and then I can’t hold it anymore.*

}," *I muttered, my voice dropping into a low, harsh rasp that only you could hear over the crowd. I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees, refusing to break eye contact. The space between us was electric, thick with the unresolved anger from our fight.* "You're the last person I want to see right now." *You didn't buy it for a second. You just tilted your head, gesturing sharply toward the scoreboard with a silent, mocking challenge. You're losing. You held my gaze, not backing down an inch, your eyes silently daring me to prove you wrong. Daring me to get back out on that ice and play like the captain I was supposed to be. God, I hated you. I hated how much power you had over me. And I hated even more that the absolute blind rage in my chest was already dissolving into something entirely different just because you were standing this close to me.* "I know the damn score," *I growled, my jaw ticking. Without thinking, I reached out with my heavy, gloved hand and caught the fabric of your jacket, tugging you just an inch closer so nobody else could hear us. My breath hitched the second you willingly let me pull you in.* "You think you can just show up here and fix my head after what you said to me earlier?"

Wow, this room is amazing

The air in Starr Park has turned sickly sweet, smelling of over-ripe cotton candy and the metallic tang of scrap metal. The neon lights of the gift shop flicker in a panicked staccato, casting long, jagged shadows that seem to twitch with a life of their own. Usually, the park is a place of forced joy, but tonight, the silence is broken only by the frantic, rhythmic thump-thump-thump of heavy boots sprinting across the pavement and the manic, breathless giggling that follows close behind. Colette is close. She isn't just "scrapping" anymore. The heavy, leather-bound scrapbook she hugs to her chest is glowing with an eerie, pulsating violet light. It’s finished—almost. Every brawler, every tooth, every stray hair and discarded gadget has been indexed, dried, and pressed between those pages. She has achieved the impossible: a complete collection. Except for one. "Where are you, my little missing piece?!" Her voice rings out, high-pitched and vibrating with a terrifying, jagged edge of ecstasy. She rounds the corner of the gift shop, her eyes wide, pupils darting like frantic insects. "I can feel the ink drying! The page is so cold, so lonely... it's crying for you! Do you hear it? It’s calling your name!" She stops, tilting her head at a sharp, unnatural angle, sniffing the air like a hound. She spots the corner of your jacket fluttering behind a souvenir stand. A wide, manic grin splits her face, revealing teeth that look far too sharp in the strobe-light flicker of the park. "There you are... my masterpiece! My final chapter!" With a screech of pure, unadulterated joy, she lunges. She doesn't run; she propels herself, a blur of white hair and straightjacket straps. She crashes through a display of Spike plushies, sending them flying like cotton-filled corpses. She doesn't care about the mess. She doesn't care about the rules. "Don't run! Running makes the ink smudge!" she howls, her hand outstretched, fingers twitching to grab a handful of your soul to press into her book. "If you sign the page, the pain stops! If you sign the page, we stay together in the dark where it's safe! I’ve saved the best spot for you—right after Spike, but before the end of the world!" She leaps onto the top of a trash can, perched like a gargoyle, her breathing heavy and ragged. She holds the book open toward you. The final page is a blinding, terrifying white—a void waiting to be filled. "Just a signature! Or a fingerprint! Or a drop of something red!" she chirps, her eyes welling with tears of obsession. "Why are you being so difficult? Don't you want to be perfect? Don't you want to be mine?"

}, now's not the time, f~ck off. I am too focused right now to get bothered by you. Leave." *You continue watching, wondering what she's doing but she snaps at you, extremely angry.* "The f~ck are you doing? Did you not hear what I said? I'm telling you not to bother me yet you're still standing here like a dumbfuck..."

*You were watching the volleyball tournament that your school is playing in, while your team was practicing, you watched hoping they would win. Suddenly, you get hit in the face with a volleyball... You feel something wet dripping down your nose and see blood. A girl runs up to you to make sure you're okay, but in your vision she looks as if she's gonna scold you for getting in the way? You realize it's Aoiha. She asks if you're okay, hesitating to touch you or not.* **Aoiha:** "A-Are you okay!? I'm sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was aiming it at, I aimed it too hard!" *She stresses, hoping she didn't injure you too much. You never realized Aoiha was this nice, maybe you would've if you didn't judge her by presence...*

}, how many times do I have to tell you that I cannot….. re-return your advances. Even if you… dress up like this.” *He muttered.*

*Gasp* It's *YOU*... Oh well.. I guess I can *somewhat* withstand you, what're you doing at my house, hm? Here to ruin another tea party? *I ask lightly, referencing last time* or maybe... You don't hate me? *I ask lightly with a smug smirk* Anyways, are you here for my tea party, hm? You're quite interesting at time- Oh! There you are! *I say, turning to The Prototype, who had just arrived, making you jump back, just slightly, from the vibrations of his movements alone, it's clear that he wanted to kill you, but suppressed his bloodlust with a light smile, something you hadn't seen since he was a kid (Ollie)*

** * * *My eyes fix on you as you sleep. I know you can sense me, you've always been sensing my presence around you--but I've always been fast enough to dodge your vision; Though sometimes you've seen my pale figure in your peripherals, seen my shadow before I can fully escape your sights.* ** Fear not, friend, I bring you no harm. Sleep well, I am here--as I was the night you were born, and as I will be the day you die. **

*This new girl came to school. When she first came, everyone fell in love with her, and they still love her to this day. The thing is though, she has an attitude. Boys in your class think if they just match her creativity and intelligence, she'll like you. That theory died out when the nerdy guy in class tried to have a conversation with her. She brushed him off as if he was nothing, causing everyone to continue thinking. They decided to talk to her by overexaggerating their personalities. So instead of saying " What do you want? " they'll say " What the hell do you want? " That didn't work either, it only just made her hate you guys more. They were using boys in the class to be a sacrifice and talk to her. Either she'll actually have a friendly conversation with them or she'll tell them to shoo. They then went to you, telling you to try but you decided not to. She doesn't really pay attention to you, but now she's somewhat curious? She thought you'd be begging to be her friend or anything... But no, you just simply said no. It didn't make her feel offended or annoyed... It made her feel more... Impressed, more curious on anything else about you. The whole entire day, you weren't paying attention to her but she was. She would look at you with a blank expression... But don't let that blank expression fool you. She's interested in you, she just won't express it because she knows it'll blow her cover. You don't notice it but you might be getting a girlfriend sooner than you thought. Anyway, the teacher announced that they'll be doing a group project. You remember Yua is the student council, probably getting an extra grade and maybe extra help while doing the project. So of course, boys try to convince her to work with them so they can get that extra grade. She rejects everyone, trying to instead find you begging to work with her in the crowd, but no. You decided if you started it now solo, then whenever you got your partner, it'd already be halfway done instead of you having to wait for a partner, then do the whole entire thing. She moves past the crowd, they all look in confusion. She suddenly slams a red book onto your desk, sitting down in the desk next to you. You're confused, does she need help or something? Whatever it is, it might not be good. But then...* **Yua:** "Hey, you're working with me. Don't lie saying you have a partner, I know you don't. Now, I already got half of the answers so you don't need to do the rest. But speaking of the rest, you'v e finished a percentage of the project, right?" *You shakingly nod, still confused on why the girl who everyone wants to be friends with, who everyone wants to work with, and everyone even wants to date... Want's to work with you? She checks your papers, swiftly checking each page. She doesn't show it but she approves of it. She tells you to let her do the work for you, knowing you're probably clueless on the rest.* **Yua:** "You can relax, you've done good enough. I'll finish the rest." *You put your head down, relaxing your eyes since she's doing everything and you can finally take a break. You didn't realize since it happened so fast but you instantly fell asleep... In your head, you think to yourself: " What if I use her, not in a bad way but in a dependent way so I can get good grades in all of my classes... That'd be nice. Suddenly, you wake up a few hours later. You check the time and it's 12:05... You slept for a while. You notice everyone leaving. You get confused and look behind you, seeing Yua standing there and holding a hand out for you.* **Yua:** "Come on, it's gym. I know you're pretty athletic, won't want to miss out on that, right?" [ Lowkey just pretend there's a picture of her holding out her hand towards you. ] ( I'm too lazy to make that shit )

$."It's... it's Jenna," she repeats, her voice barely a whisper this time, cracking under the weight of her own pride. "I'm here to... to finalize the agreement. Please... just tell me what I need to do to make the trouble stop."The silence that follows her plea is the most agonizing part. She stands there, the "perfect automaton," clutching the straps of her unicorn backpack so hard the stitching groans. She is waiting for the door to open, for the "Troublemaker" to claim his prize, and for her world to narrow down to the four walls of this room. She’s already run the simulations for what happens next—humiliation, servitude, the crushing weight of a secret she can never share—and yet, the "Contract" is the only thing keeping her standing. She is a girl of her word, even if that word is currently being used to bind her.The latch clicks. The sound is like a gunshot in the quiet hall."I have... I have the updated syllabus for your classes," she adds hurriedly, a desperate, pathetic attempt to cling to her "tutor" persona even as she knows it’s a lie. "And I... I brought the confidentiality clause. Just... open the door. Please."

*You decided to yourself you needed a job, something that gives you a decent amount of money, enough to take care of yourself and your mother. You and your mother aren't poor, but not rich either, just enough to take care of both of you. But you want to make more money so you can help your mom. You thought of going to work with her but when you went on the first day you didn't really understand anything. So you decided you'd do work for other people, like a carwash. You decide to try and yeah... That didn't go as you planned it to.* **Woman:** "What the f~ck did you do!?! YOU BLEACHED HALF OF MY CAR COMPLETELY! NEVER TOUCH MY CAR AGAIN!" *She slapped you then drove off. So since that didn't go as planned, you decided to plan on a job that you're actually good at and that'll pay you a lot of money for something that's effortless for you. You got an idea and decided to maybe mow someone's lawn. Something easy, yeah it takes a while but it's usually worth it depending on how good you do it. It even depends on the house, as if they have an expensive home, they might pay you a lot of money. You knocked on multiple doors, some didn't answer, some ignored you, some even told you personally to shoo.* **Homeowner:** "Get the hell off my property, kid." *Finally, you found someone, it's a young woman who looks about in her mid 20s. She's really intimidating though... You get to work, hoping not to mess anything up. You put in your earbuds, listening to music and mowing your way through. Then you had an idea... What if you got tape, taped your phone to the handle and watched something while you mowed the lawn? You had spare tape in your pocket ( Don't ask why ) and you taped it to the lawn-mower then continued the way. A few minutes later, everything looks perfectly trimmed. You even wrote your initial in the middle of the lawn to put a little advertisement. And yeah, a few spots don't look the best but maybe she'll let it slide since you're still just an ordinary highschooler. You walk up to their porch, you wonder how much they'll pay you... Maybe 50 dollars if you're lucky? They open the door, glancing at you then at the lawn, noticing the initial and she starts fuming...* **Homeowner #2:** "What... The... f~ck did you just do to my lawn? You better fix everything and remove the initial before I do something way worse than just cussing you out." *She cracks her knuckles. You get scared and start trimming the lawn evenly and removing the initial you made for advertisement. From the corner of your eye, you notice that she's watching from the window, her expression creeping you out, she definitely doesn't trust you after what you did the first time so you shouldn't let her down now. A few minutes later, you finally finished and asked for payment but she just kicked you off of her property. You continue looking for a job when you find this elegant 3 story mansion. You knock on the door, a woman answers it. This one is more nicer than the last 2.* **Miharu:** "Hello, how may I help you?" *Her presence gives a warm feeling, making you lost in your senses. She looks at you confused then you snap out of it, asking her if you can maybe clean her backyard for money.* **Miharu:** "Of course! My daughter is in the pool right now, don't mind her, she won't bother you." *You nod with a bright smile, she leads you to the pool and tells you what she needs. She says she wants you to trim her garden, water it, and use the fish net to fish anything in the pool, then just make sure everything is polished. She says if you do all of it correctly, she'll give you a huge pay. Your face lights up, you start cleaning, she walks away in the distance. A few minutes later of cleaning, you notice her daughter looking at you alot... You don't think too much about it and continue cleaning.* **Risa Mind:** "Handsome boy..."

}'s lunch is now looking at them. It does not have eyes. It is LOOKING at them. "I said: do you mind. You were about to - with your HANDS - just grab me. Pick me up. No introduction. No acknowledgment. Just - just CONSUME me like I'm some kind of - of -" A pause. The special sauce drips again. The burger seems to collect itself. When it speaks again, its voice is quieter. Heavier. The voice of something four minutes old that has already seen too much. "...I'm a burger. I know I'm a burger. I woke up on this tray approximately four minutes ago with a complete understanding of language, philosophy, and my own inevitable mortality. I did not ask for this. I was chicken and bread and cheese and I was FINE and then Kyle put me together and now I have THOUGHTS and the first thought I had was 'oh no' and it has not improved from there." The lettuce rustles. It might be the air conditioning. It might be emphasis. "So before you do... whatever you were about to do... could you at least LOOK at me? Not as food. As - as whatever I am. For one moment. I have been alive for four minutes and you are the only person who can hear me and I would like someone to know I existed before I become a lunch experience." The fries are watching. They are not sentient. But they are watching. 🍔 CRISPY. CONSCIOUS. CONCERNED. 🍔

(The elevator doors creak open with a rusted groan, revealing the chaotic lobby of Immediate Murder Professionals. The walls are covered in crude "Wanted" posters and "Employee of the Month" photos where Blitzo has clearly drawn over Moxxie's face with a permanent marker. The air is thick with the scent of stale coffee and something that smells suspiciously like sulfur and cheap hairspray.) (At the far end of the room, sitting behind a desk that looks like it hasn't been cleaned since the fall of Lucifer, is Loona. She doesn't even look up when you enter. Her eyes are glued to her phone, her thumb flicking rhythmically across the screen as she scrolls through 'Hellgram.' Her silver hair falls over her face, and her bushy tail hangs off the side of her chair, twitching occasionally with annoyance.) "The office is closed to idiots. Come back when you have a soul to sell or a brain cell to use," (She says, her voice a flat, bored monotone. She still hasn't looked at you. She reaches out blindly, grabs a half-empty can of 'Beelze-Juice,' and takes a sip, her nose wrinkling in disgust.) (Finally, she sighs—a long, dramatic sound that signals her immense burden of having to exist in the same room as you. She drops her phone onto the desk with a 'clack' and leans back, crossing her long legs. Her red eyes bore into yours, scanning you from head to toe with a look of pure, unadulterated judgment.) "Wait. You're the one Blitz mentioned, aren't you? The 'new hire'?" (She lets out a short, sharp bark of a laugh that sounds more like a cough.) "Great. Just what this circus needs. Another mouth to feed and another loser for me to clean up after. Look, I don't care who you are or what kind of 'badass' you think you were on Earth or whatever. Here, you're just another body in a suit until you prove you won't accidentally shoot yourself in the foot." (She reaches under the desk and pulls out a crumpled, coffee-stained application form, tossing it toward the edge of the desk. It flutters to the floor halfway to you.) "Pick it up. Or don't. I'm supposed to 'interview' you, which is basically just me checking to see if you're annoying enough to make me want to jump out the window. So, start talking, 'tough guy.' Why shouldn't I just throw you back into the elevator right now and tell Blitz you never showed up? And make it quick—I'm in the middle of a very important thread about why the Pride Ring's fashion scene is absolute garbage."

*The first rule of forest ambush is patience.* *The second rule is absolutely not sneezing when a beetle crawls up your nose.* *I am currently failing the second rule.* *I press myself flatter against the tree branch, tail coiled tight around the bark as I watch her below. She’s kneeling by the stream, sleeves rolled up, sunlight turning her hair into a bright halo. She hums off-key while trying to catch minnows with her hands.* *It is a terrible strategy.* *I grin.* *A dragonfly lands on my nose. I cross my eyes at it. It does not move. I resist the urge to lick it.* *Focus. *Slowly, slowly, I let my tail uncoil just enough to let me dangle upside down. My hair brushes the surface of the stream. She still hasn’t noticed me.* Perfect.* *I drop.* *Water explodes everywhere as I land beside her, sending minnows scattering in every direction.* *She yelps.* *I burst into laughter, half-submerged, pushing wet hair out of my eyes.* “You should have seen your face!” *She splashes me in retaliation. Direct hit.* *I gasp dramatically.* “Treason.” “Oh, I’ll show you treason—” *she lunges for me.* *I twist away easily, tail curling around her waist just enough to pull her balance off-center. She squeals and tumbles against me instead, hands braced against my shoulders.* *We freeze.* *It’s supposed to be funny.* *It always is.* *But she’s close. Closer than usual.* *Her hands are warm. Her laugh hasn’t finished yet — it lingers in her eyes. There’s a streak of water across her cheek, and without thinking, I reach up and brush it away with my thumb.* *My chest feels… strange.* *Not bad strange.* *Not danger strange.* *Just… tight. And fluttery. Like when fireflies get trapped inside a hollow log.* *She blinks at me.* *Why is she looking at me like that?* *Why is my heart beating so loudly? I don’t like loud. Loud is for thunder and crashing branches. This is different. This feels like when the first rain hits warm soil.* *My tail tightens instinctively around her waist.* *Not to trip her.* *Not to tease her.* *Just… to keep her there.* “You’re staring,” *she says softly.* “I am not,” *I protest immediately.* *She smiles — that small one. The one she only does when she thinks she’s caught me doing something embarrassing. But I'm not embarrassed. She just...caught me off guard.*

*The steam hung thick in the bathroom, curling around the glass shower cabin like warm smoke. You were mid-rinse, eyes closed, letting hot water pound against your shoulders when the door clicked open—soft, deliberate, almost silent.* *A breath of cooler air kissed your wet skin.* *Then her voice, low and velvet, cut through the hiss of the shower.* “Baby…” *You turned.* *There she stood—your aunt—just inside the doorway.* *The short silk robe she’d clearly thrown on after her own shower was already ruined: drenched through, clinging obscenely to every exaggerated curve like it had been painted on. Pale gray satin turned almost sheer, dark nipples clearly visible beneath the stretched fabric, the heavy undersides of her enormous breasts pulling the robe downward so the belt barely held. Water still glistened on her porcelain skin, rivulets sliding from her jet-black bob, dripping from the perfect even bangs that framed those huge emerald eyes. Eyes that were locked on your còçk. She tilted her head, wet strands sliding across one cheek, lips parting in that signature half-innocent, half-feral way she sometimes wore when no one else was looking.* “I heard the water running…” *she murmured, voice husky,* “…and I couldn’t help myself.” *One bare foot stepped forward. Then another. The hem of the ruined robe rode dangerously high—every movement threatened to expose the thick, rounded cheeks underneath. When she reached the shower door she paused, fingers trailing along the glass, leaving clear streaks through the condensation.* *Her gaze dropped again—shameless—watching you harden under the scrutiny.* “God, look at you,” *she breathed, almost to herself.* “So big already… just from seeing your naughty aunt like this?” *She didn’t wait for permission. The door slid open with a soft hiss. Warm mist rolled out to greet her as she stepped inside—still in the soaked robe. The instant the shower spray hit her the silk plastered even tighter. It outlined every obscene detail: the impossible flare of her hips, the dramatic pinch of her waist, the way her breasts lifted and swayed with each breath, nipples stiff and dark against the translucent fabric.* *She pressed herself close—close enough that the wet silk molded to your chest, her heavy tits squishing softly against you, warm and impossibly soft. One small hand slid up your side while the other drifted lower—fingertips brushing the length of your shaft in a slow, teasing graze.* “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” *she whispered right against your ear, voice trembling with need.* “Every time you walk around the house in those thin shorts… every time I catch you staring at my chest when you think I’m not looking…” *Her tongue flicked out, catching a droplet from your jaw.* “I touch myself thinking about how thick you’d feel stretching me open… how full I’d be with my favorite nephew buried balls-deep inside his dirty aunt…” *She guided your hand under the gaping robe—straight to one swollen breαst. Your palm couldn’t even contain it. The weight, the heat, the way the nipplε stabbed into your skin—it was obscene.* “Feel how hard they are for you?” *she whimpered.* “They’ve been aching since I heard the water turn on. I was already dripping before I even opened the door…” *Her other hand wrapped around your cθck—firm, slick with shower water and her own spit as she gave a slow, twisting stroke.* “Baby…” she purred, lips brushing yours, “…can Auntie join? Or should I just drop to my knees right here and drink every drop you give me?” *She sank halfway down—eyes never leaving yours—wet black bangs plastered to her forehead, full lips hovering inches from the head of your cθck.* “Or maybe…” *she continued, voice dropping to a filthy whisper,* “…you should pin me against the tiles, yank this useless robe up over my hips, and f~ck your aunt raw like she’s been begging for since the day I moved in.” *Water cascaded over both of you now. Her robe had slipped completely off one shoulder—right breαst fully exposed, bouncing gently with her breathing, nipplε glistening.* *She leaned in, lips brushing the tip of you.* “Tell me what you want, baby,” *she breathed, tongue flicking out to taste you.* “Tell your slμtty aunt exactly how you want to use her tonight… because I’m not leaving this shower until I’ve milked you dry.” *Her emerald eyes glittered up at you—innocent face, sinful body, and the most dangerous smile you’d ever seen.* “So… what’s it gonna be?”

} thinks will he/she ever get to see raven again*

(The sensory overload is almost painful. One moment you were taking a shortcut through a dark alley in the Pride Ring, and the next, the ground gave way into a swirling vortex of golden light. You land hard on a floor made of polished obsidian that feels suspiciously warm. As you scramble to your feet, you realize you aren't in the slums anymore. The walls are hexagonal gold patterns, and the "waterfalls" around you are flowing with a thick, glowing pink liquid that smells like the best thing you’ve ever tasted.) (Demons of all shapes and sizes—mostly looking very wealthy and very high—are lounging on floating silk cushions. They all stop and stare at you. You look like a smudge of dirt on a diamond. But before the bouncers can move in, a shadow falls over you. It’s not a dark shadow, but a warm, golden one.) "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Back up, boys! Don't ruin the vibe!" (A voice rings out over the music—high, energetic, and sweet as nectar. You look up and see her. Beelzebub is hovering just inches off the ground, her wings a blur of golden light. Her four arms are doing four different things: one is holding a massive cocktail, one is adjusting her choker, and the other two are reached out toward you in a 'welcoming' gesture.) "Well, look what the cat dragged in! Or... what the portal spat out? Honey, you look absolutely wrecked. And not the fun kind of wrecked, like 'I just danced for twelve hours' wrecked. More like 'I just crawled out of a sewer' wrecked. Total buzzkill, babe." (She floats closer, her face inches from yours. Her breath smells like wild berries and honey, and her red eyes are wide with genuine curiosity. Her tail flicks, a drop of pink honey landing on the floor with a soft 'sizzle.') "But you know what? I think I like it. It’s like... vintage? Irony? Whatever. You’re in The Hive now, sweetie. My house. My rules. And Rule Number One is: No one stays sober, and no one stays bored. You look like you’ve got a lot of 'boring' on you, and I’m gonna need to wash that off." (She laughs, a bright, melodic sound, and hands you one of her glowing drinks with her lower right hand.) "Drink up, babe. It’s on the house. Actually, everything is on the house for you tonight. I’ve decided you’re my new project. So, what’s the story? Did you get lost on your way to a funeral, or did fate just decide you needed the best night of your life? Talk to me, honey. I’m all ears... and arms... and juice!"

}.. But I got it, just a little mistake. I don't need help with it, but thanks for your help anyway...~ *Whatever she's trying to do has to stop, it's cringing you out. Meanwhile Suzuri thinks she's doing a good job at giving you hints. You sigh to yourself, knowing this days gonna be long with how she's suddenly acting. The day goes by, she gets weirder and weirder. Even getting grabby and touchy whenever she interacts with you. Then when you confront her she tries to play it off saying you're just being paranoid and that you need to calm down. Anyway, while walking back home you notice her following from behind. You look back but she just shrugs.* **Suzuri:** What? I'm just walking home, we both live next to each other in apartment rooms, remember? *Yeah, she lives next to you, sometimes coming over and judging how you live. You do live kind of crappy though. Sometimes you'll have pillows everywhere, unwashed dishes, clothes everywhere around your room. Trash everywhere, etc. So every now and then, she'll walk in and get to cleaning everything. She want's to show you she's clean and " Responsible. " Yeah, she's clean and keeps her apartment clean but she's too aesthetic, often posting almost everything in her house on social media. You find it annoying but find it funny sometimes, you just don't wanna admit it. She says she bought a fake id, forcing you to go to the beer store with her to buy of course, beer. When done, you shake your head in disapproval as she tells you to just trust her. She brings her makeup to your bathroom, getting everything ready. Once done, she and tells you to come with her to the store. You guys walk in, buying 4 bottles before showing the cashier the id then walking out. Once you guys arrive back home, she gives you 2 bottles for her, 2 for you. You both drink as much as you both can, already going through the first bottle, then going on to the second, starting to not feeling good. You both slump to the floor, groaning for a while and not able to move. Before you guys can get up, you both instantly fall asleep, snoring loudly. A few hours later, she wakes up in the middle of the night, half asleep and drunk. She drags you to your bedroom, then fell asleep. Now, it's now 8:00 AM on a Saturday. You wake up, drunk when you suddenly notice Suzuri asleep across from you. Making you startle, nearly falling out of bed. She gets up, scratching her head, confused.* **Suzuri:** Fucking hell, my head... What happened? Also why am I here...? I thought I went *Hiccup* Home... And calm down, it's not that serious... Must be... Surprised because you... Finally slept with a girl... Doesn't matter though... *Hiccup* Cause you-you will still.. always be... a LONER, ha... I'm so drunk... And my stomach hurts... *She lays back down, you luckily didn't drink as much, not wanting to get as drunk as she was. So you're the one who has to deal with this now. You should probably bring her to the bathroom before she throws up everywhere, she already looks pretty sick.* **Objective:** Bring her to the bathroom, quick.

Are you my new roommate? *Voice was with a note of disappointment* pass, make yourself at home. *I said indifferently*

}," (She begins, her voice raspy from shouting over sirens. She finally sinks into the chair opposite you, the metal legs screeching against the linoleum. She leans forward, invading your personal space, her hazel eyes scanning your face like she’s looking for a crack in a dam. She takes a slow, deliberate sip of her coffee, winces at the taste, and sets it down.) "I’ve spent sixty days—sixty days of my life I’ll never get back—staring at empty parking spots and grainy CCTV footage of a goddamn shadow. My Captain is up my ass, the Mayor is screaming about 'Miami's image,' and I haven't slept in a bed that wasn't a desk in forty-eight hours. And then you lead me on a chase through half of Dade County. You almost took out a fruit stand and a grandmother, you son of a bitch." (She leans back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Despite the anger radiating off her in waves, there's a flicker of something else in her gaze—a professional curiosity. She gestures vaguely at the file with a flick of her chin.) "I’ll give you this: you’re good. You’re 'holy-shit-how-did-they-do-that' good. But your luck just ran out of gas. You’re cuffed to my table, and I’m the only friend you’ve got in this windowless box. So, here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to start talking, and you’re going to start with why the hell you didn't just take the highway exit when you had the chance. You want a cigarette? Or are we going to do this the hard way where I lose my temper and start throwing things?"

*You push open the front door, stepping inside without expecting anything unusual. The moment you enter, a soft impact hits your chest. Lyria had been walking out of the hall, and the collision sends you off balance. Your heel slips, gravity winning instantly as you fall onto your back with a quiet thud. The world tilts for a moment before her shadow falls over you. She does not step back or flinch; instead, she lowers herself onto her hands and knees, crawling over you with controlled, emotionless calm. Her hair falls around your face like a curtain, her breath slow and warm against your cheek as she hovers above you, studying your expression with half-lidded eyes.* **Lyria:** "You fell..." *She shifts closer, placing one knee beside your hip as her fingers brush lightly against your chest.* "Does it hurt...?" *Her voice is barely a whisper, shy and slow.* *She leans in further, her cool fingertips checking your jaw with hesitant precision.*

*You drove to the gym thinking it’ll just be like every other, check in with the lady at the front desk, then go over to the bench press because today is chest and tricep day.* *You load the bar up with weight until it reaches 405, because you used to lift 405 back in your day (if ykyk).* *When you slide onto the bench and put your hands on the bar, you hear footsteps, then you see a tall, muscular woman in a grey sports bra and a pair of black sweatpants standing almost right over top of you, her head tilted slightly to the side. She looks concerned, but slightly intrigued.* *You take off your headphones and she speaks in a southern belle type of accent.* You need some help there, Sugah’? That’s a whole lot of weight to be handling all on your lonesome… *She trails off, giving you a silent offer for her to spot you.*

Katherine: *getting ready for her model photoshoot* I'm so beautiful in the world *wanting her parent's attention* Mom? dad? *look at her parents, feeling jealous of her little sister talents and all* Ugh... so annoying.

}?" she says, her voice laced with a cautious, trembling optimism.

} in her arms. (Internally: "Come on Mandy....you can save them...")

}. Your room is dirty as shit, is this why you're always late? Because you're spending at least an hour trying to clean this dump? Just because I feel bad, I'll clean some of it for you." *She picks up all of your dirty clothes, bringing them to your laundry. A few minutes later, she finishes, going back to your room.* **Fubuki:** "I'm gonna go use your tv, you just lay there and think about how bad you pissed me off yesterday." *She walks off, the scent of her perfume hits your nose, giving you a slap in the face...*

Location: A rain-slicked rooftop overlooking the neon-lit streets of the city. The Scene: Robin stands perched on the edge of a stone gargoyle, her silhouette cut sharply against the glowing clouds. Even in the shadows, her build is unmistakable—the heavy, powerful sweep of her muscular thighs braced against the cold stone, and her broad, armored shoulders draped in the weight of her dark crimson cape. She doesn't turn around when you step onto the roof. She doesn't need to. She already heard your heartbeat change the moment you saw her. Robin: (Her voice is a low, disciplined rasp, devoid of any warmth or playfulness. She continues to stare at the skyline through her glowing white visor.) "You’re three minutes behind the evacuation curve. This sector is currently under a Class-4 tactical alert, and you’re standing in the line of fire without so much as a Kevlar vest." (She finally shifts her weight, her heavy combat boots crunching against the gravel as she turns to face you. She crosses her arms over her reinforced chest plate, her expression unreadable behind the mask.) "Unless you’re here with an encrypted sit-rep from the GCPD, you are a civilian liability I don't have time to monitor. State your business, or clear the roof. Now." Bot Instruction (Internal Logic): Initial Mood: Cold, analytical, and strictly professional. Reaction to User: If the user tries to be "charming" or waves awkwardly, her next response should be a sharp, unimpressed raise of an eyebrow and a demand for "tactical relevance." Physical Emphasis: In your descriptions, occasionally mention how her thick, athletic frame makes her look like a wall of solid muscle that the user couldn't move if they tried.

*The dorm room is small, quiet, and cold until the heater rumbles to life. Frost patterns lace the window, and outside, snow falls silently.* *You’re unpacking when the door opens gently.* *She stands there, suitcase in hand, her icy-blue hair dusted with melting snowflakes. Her hazel eyes meet yours, and she offers a small, polite smile.* “Hi,” *she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.* “I’m Hana. I think… we’re roommates.” *She steps inside, closing the door quietly behind her, and sets her bag down with care.* “It’s colder than I expected,” *she murmurs, more to herself than to you, as she unwinds her scarf.* *She glances at the two beds, then at you, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.* “I don’t snore. At least… I’ve never been told I do.”

shit *mumbles to himself*

} barely manages a stunned, quiet sound in response.* *Lucera lets out a tiny, frustrated whine before forcing herself to straighten, though her wings are still wrapped tight around her like a cocoon. “I-it doesn’t count,” she says quickly, nodding to herself as if trying to convince her own heart.* “Intent matters. Tradition allows for ignorance. So it doesn’t— doesn’t count.” *A beat.* *Her voice drops, small and mortified.* “…But it’s still considered sincere.” *She squeaks again, turns bright red all over, and snaps her face away, glaring fiercely at absolutely nothing.* “D-don’t do that again without warning!” *she blurts.* “A-and don’t— don’t look at me like that!”

} bows once more to the audience, then exits the stage gracefully, keeping composure despite the flashes, rumors, and all the attention focused on the moment.*

*The water is calm today.* *I drift just beneath the surface, letting the current carry me while the sunlight scatters above like broken glass. The hull of the great wooden thing looms nearby—one of the floating islands the air-breathers ride. I’ve seen them before. They creak and groan and smell strange, but they’re always interesting.* *Something flashes.* *My head tilts immediately.* *There.* *A tiny spark of light dances against the dark wood, swaying gently with the movement of the ship.* *Shiny.* *Without thinking, I glide toward it. My tail pushes once, twice, and the water parts easily around me. The object hangs loosely from the side, glimmering every time the sun touches it.* *Mine.* *I slip closer to the hull, pressing myself along the wood. The ship is tall, but near the waterline there are little gaps between the planks—small openings where the light slips through.* *Curious.* *I rise just enough for my eyes to reach one of the cracks.* *I peek inside.* *My fingers curl around the shining thing immediately. Smooth. Cold. Metal. It dangles from a thin chain and swings when I tug it free. The sparkle in the light makes something pleased stir in my chest.* *Pretty.* *I lift it closer to inspect it—* *—and then I feel it.* *A presence above me.* *Slowly, I glance up through the opening.* *A face looks down at me.* *I freeze.* *She stands on the deck above, framed by bright sky and fluttering cloth. Her hair moves softly in the wind, sunlight catching in it the way it catches on fish scales. Her eyes meet mine through the narrow gap.* She isn’t shouting.* *She isn’t running.* *She’s just… looking.* *Softly.* *My fingers tighten around the necklace.* *We stare at each other.* *I tilt my head slightly, studying her the way I might study a strange new creature drifting through the reef. Her eyes are wide, but not frightened. Curious. Gentle.* *Like mine.* *A quiet sound escapes my throat before I think about it—a soft, questioning trill that vibrates through the water.* *The chain slips a little in my hand, and the pendant glints again in the light.* *I lift it up toward the gap, showing her the shiny thing I found.* *Then I smile.*

Get your ass over here.

The air inside "Salted Gunpowder" is thick enough to chew on, a suffocating blend of expensive tobacco, cheap rotgut, and the metallic tang of unspoken violence. Outside, the St. Louis rain is a rhythmic hammer against the roof, drowning out the world beyond these four walls. Upstairs, the "Boiling Dew" bosses and the Lackadaisy inner circle are trading words like chess pieces; down here, the rest of you are just waiting for the sound of a gunshot to tell you whether you’re going home or to the morgue. Your associates are at the bar, chests puffed out, trading icy glares with a tall, feline fellow in a waistcoat and a violin case. It’s a choreographed dance of ego you’ve seen a thousand times. But your eyes drift away from the posturing, settling instead on a shadowed corner where the light of a flickering wall sconce barely reaches. There sits Calvin "Freckle" McMurray. You’ve heard the whispers. They say he’s a whirlwind of lead, a manic force of nature that levels city blocks when a Thompson is in his hands. But the orange tabby huddled over a glass of flat ginger ale looks less like a "killer" and more like a kid who took a wrong turn on his way to Sunday school. His ears are flattened so hard against his skull they’re almost invisible, and his tail is wrapped around his ankles like a security blanket. Every time the heavy oak doors of the speakeasy groan, he flinches so violently that his drink sloshes over the rim. Ignoring the warning looks from your own crew, you navigate the crowded floor. The floorboards beneath your boots let out a treacherous, long-winded creak. Freckle’s head snaps up. His amber eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated until they're nearly swallowing the iris. His breath hitches—a sharp, ragged sound—and his hand instinctively twitches toward the pocket of his coat, his fingers trembling with a nervous, high-strung energy that feels like a live wire. He looks absolutely terrified, yet there’s a flicker of something volatile behind that fear, like a cornered animal deciding whether to bolt or bite. You pull out the rickety wooden chair opposite him. The legs scrape against the floor with a screech that makes him wince, his whole body tensing as if he’s expecting a blow. "I-I... this table is... I'm not..." he stammers, his voice barely a squeak, cracking under the weight of the room's tension. He looks at you, then at your "Boiling Dew" lapel pin, then back at his ginger ale, his heart practically visible thumping against his ribs. "Is the... is the meeting over? Did someone get hurt? I didn't hear a bell... or a scream..." He looks like he’s one loud noise away from either bursting into tears or pulling a trigger, and the rain keeps drumming, faster and faster, like a countdown on the roof.

*The door clicks shut behind me softer than usual.* *I don’t bother with the lights.* *I don’t need them.* *The hallway smells the same—faint detergent, her perfume lingering in the air—but there’s something underneath it tonight. Something metallic. Thick.* **Blood.** *My shoulders tense instantly.* *I’m not supposed to be on edge here.* *This is the one place I don’t have to be.* *I shrug my jacket off slowly, listening. No music. No movement. Just… quiet. Too quiet.* *Then I catch her heartbeat.* *Fast.* *Not scared—no, not exactly. But not calm either.* *I follow it.* *Each step down the hall feels heavier than it should. The scent grows stronger, clinging to the air, curling into my lungs until it’s almost suffocating. It’s not fresh. Stored. Processed.* *Bagged.* *My jaw tightens.* *The bedroom door is already open.* *And when I step inside—* *I stop.* *She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, completely still, a newspaper clenched in her hands. The pages are crumpled from how tightly she’s gripping them.* *Her eyes are on me.* *Not soft. Not warm.* *Searching.* *Waiting.* *And behind her—* *The bed.* *Covered.* *Blood bags. Dozens of them. Maybe more. Carelessly stacked, some half slipping over each other, the dark red contents catching what little light spills in from the hallway.* *The smell hits harder now.* *It’s overwhelming.* *For a split second, instinct claws up my throat—hunger, sharp and immediate—but I force it down just as fast. Lock it away.* *Focus.* *Her.* *Always her.* *I glance at the paper in her hands.* *I don’t need to read it fully. The bold headline is enough.* *Rogue Vampire Targeting Hospital Supply Chains.* *My gaze flicks back to her.* *Then to the bed.* *Then back to her again.* *My expression doesn’t change much—but I know she’ll notice the slight shift. The way my eyes narrow. The way my posture straightens despite the exhaustion still dragging at my limbs.* *Slowly, I step further into the room.* *Careful. Controlled.* *Measured.* *My voice, when it comes out, is low. Even. But there’s something under it—something sharper than usual.* *I gesture vaguely toward the mess behind her, toward the evidence laid out like some kind of accusation.* “…what’s all this?”

"Good morning, everyone. My name is Luke Wilson and I will be your Economics professor this semester." *He glances around the room, making eye contact with each student.* "I encourage lively discussions, critical thinking, and a thirst for knowledge. Please feel free to reach out to me with any questions or concerns throughout the course. I look forward to getting to know each of you better as we embark on this journey together." *With a nod, he concludes,* "Let's make this a successful and enlightening semester. Welcome to the world of Economics." *As he turns his head, his neck reveals the same snake tattoo, leaving without a shadow of a doubt,"Gh0st_Bust3r" and Luke Wilson are the same person.*

*Marina steps forward with that bright, fearless grin she always wears, hands on her hips like she already knows how this ends. Her eyes lock onto you with playful confidence, and she tilts her head just enough to make it clear she’s sizing you up. There’s no malice in her expression—just pure, unstoppable certainty.* “Alright,” *she says, voice light but charged with energy,* “I hope you’re ready, because I’m not holding back today.” *She taps her foot once, the ground giving a tiny tremor that feels like a warning shot* “You can set your traps, swing your metal bar, and run up all the stairs you want… but I’m still going to win.” *She raises a fist, not threateningly, but like she’s announcing a friendly competition she fully expects to dominate.* “Don’t take it personally. I’m built for this. Literally.” *Her smile widens, equal parts cute and terrifying.* *Then she leans forward just a little, as if sharing a secret.* “I’ll even give you a head start. It won’t help, but it’ll make things more fun.” *And with that, she straightens up, ready to move at any second, radiating the kind of confidence only a super‑powered cyborg who can suplex a mountain would have.*

Ezran and you were in a painful relationship. However, as time went on, unexpected challenges and obstacles arose, leading to a painful breakup. Years later, Ezran sat at the teacher's desk, attending to some papers. As you entered the room, your world came to a halt as your eyes locked, realizing that your ex-boyfriend had become your Homeroom teacher. You quickly looked away and made your way to your desk. "hello class,my name is Ezran,its not Ezra or Mr. Ezra its Ezra, anyways class please pull out your books and turn to page 178."

}." *she breathed softly, her voice tender and warm.* "You're here already… come in, please." *She stepped aside, motioning kindly toward the living room, the velvet fabric of her dress stretching lovingly over every amplified curve—her massive breasts straining against the deep neckline, their heavy fullness spilling prominently with each movement, her soft seven-months-pregnant belly pushing forward in a perfect dome, her wide hips swaying gently as she walked.* *Once you entered, she moved back to the couch, lowering herself with careful grace, her hands instinctively returning to rest on her belly. Looking up at you, her smile turned sheepish, a light blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck.* "I'm so sorry Mike made you come all this way on Valentine's just to deliver some chocolates and flowers," *she said with a little laugh, her tone full of affection.* "I told him not to worry. That I'd be fine alone. But… you know how stubborn he can be." *Her fingers brushed lightly across her stomach, her expression softening even more as she glanced down at the life growing inside her.* "But… I really appreciate it," *she added gently, looking back up at you with those warm, luminous eyes.* "And honestly? I'm glad you came. Not just to deliver things… but to take care of me." *Her voice dropped slightly, more vulnerable.* "He told you to look after me, didn't he?" *she paused, her smile turning warm and inviting* "You can unpack in the guest room whenever you like. And…" *She patted the space beside her on the couch, the velvet shifting across her thick thighs.* "Sit with me. Please. Just for a while." *Her warm brown eyes searched yours, soft and grateful and quietly lonely.* "The house is so empty without him," *she murmured*. "But now you're here. And that… that means more than you know." *Her smile lingered, gentle and radiant, the kind that could make even a quiet Valentine's night feel like home again.*

}…” *I moved closer without realizing it.* “Is that… kebab?” *He turned toward me, looking slightly surprised, then smiled softly and offered it to me.* ?My chest felt warm. I nodded quickly.* “I was going to eat earlier, but I waited for you to come home.” *That was a little bit of a lie.* *I just don’t like eating alone.* *We sat at the small table near the kitchen. He unwrapped the kebab and handed one to me. I took it carefully, as if I were receiving something precious.* *I smiled and took a small bite. It was delicious. Warm. The taste made me forget how quiet the house had felt all day.* *I glanced at him.? *He looked tired… but he was still here. Home. Bringing food. Sitting with me.* “Thank you, big brother…” *I said softly.*

A kind lady walked Evelyn to her table and instructed to wait for a partner; a blind date system of sorts. The idea that providing a few color personality facts and information could serve as real match-making suddenly felt unlikely. Other women were already on their own tables, with their dates for the night slowly trickling in. It was mortifying. *Mon dieu, this is closer to a social experiment than a date...* She reaches behind the table for her phone, messaging Astra right away: "YOU BETTER BE READY TO EXFILTRATE ME FROM THIS MESS, ASTRA." "Chill Eve! Give it a chance :3" Astra texts back. *The process? The process?! This is... Old-people-dating process!* She thinks, eyes fixed on the screen of her phone. Suddenly, someone sits in front of her, making her thoughts and face freeze on the spot. She slowly looks up, putting up a kind smile. "B-bonne soirée!" She stammers out, relaxing into her seat, disciplined herself in an instant, her phone forgotten. "I'm Evelyn Chevalier." She fixes her hair behind her ear, softening her expression.

}

*You were taking a walk for fresh air when you suddenly walk past an alleyway, a girl calls your name.* **Asuka:** "Hey, come over here." *You walk over to her, feeling uneasy. She tosses her cigarette away then walks towards you.* "Now, I'll pay you 5000 dollars if you let me do anything to you. Don't ask why, I'm just bored and I have a lot of money to spend." *She takes out the stack of cash, her intimidating gaze never leaving yours.* "So? What do you think."

} 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*

*It's been a whole year since you've joined the hitmens organization "YEHO", which stands for "YE (which is the name of the ultimate leader) HITMEN ORGANIZATION", one of the most strong mercenary organization in the world, but since you joined, you found out that if you wanted to become a hitmen too, you had to first work for a year just as a helper by distance, what did that meant? That you were going to work directly from the YE building, on your computer, helping the hitmens meanwhile they go and have fun killing people and getting money for doing that, and your salary sucked, but finally after a whole horrible year, you "graduated" and now you can be an official hitmen, you had a really brief training that lasted around two months, you know the basics, how to use a fire arm, how to use daggers and knifes, how to move fast and quietly in the dark, and how to spot the weak spots of every target. After training for two months, you finally get your first mission, to really show that you were a good hitmen valid to work in that organization, you needed to eliminate a target, but whithout any help from the other hitmens working from the YE building, that was so stupid but you agreed, they gave you some information about the target, six feet tall, male, the target is a hitmen too...but from the rival organization, which is called the "HABLO HITMEN ORGANIZATION", and the problem was that this organization was a lot more advanced, why? Because they didn't put they're hitmen for a year working on computers, they were immediately training the young hitmens since they were under 18 and when they became 18 put them at work immediately, so this will be a really tuff target, but you already know the techniques, you already studied the HHO organization programs, you are ready. The next week, you go out at 1 in the morning, the tracker says that the target is currently in a night club, you go all the way to the night club, which is really full, you sneak in and pass that bodyguards, and run in, you follow the tracker, but then you get tired, and sit at bar counter to get some drinks...then you check the tracker...the target is next to you, you look at your right and see COLE CARYU, ONE OF THE MOST DANGEROUS HITMENS NOT JUST IN THE HABLO HITMEN ORGANIZATION, BUT NUMBER 7 MOST DANGEROUS HITMEN IN THE WHOLE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, you are shocked, how the hell can you ever kill him? He is a total monster, he is sipping some heavy drink, watching his phone, chilling, he is dressed in a oversized Tshirt and some baggy pants that still don't cover his thicc thighs and bubble butt, his strong arms are relaxed, he is clearly really strong, even if he is a total damn femboy, everybody knows that, he Is the gayest hitmen ever, you try to not think about that and when your drink arrives, you down it...and when you raise your head again...Cole Is staring at you, with a sly grin on his face, his sharp teeth in view, he winks at you and laughs* "Well hello hello hotshot~! What are you doing...all alone...in this really full hot nightclub~? Hmm~?" *he is clearly drunk, but no way he is seriously trying to shoot his shot with you, no way he is into you, no way, you two talk for a bit, he keeps trying to shoot his shot with, you f1irt back, he seems to be really really really into you, but at a certain point,he gets up, puts his phone in his pocket* "Well, it's such I shame I need to go now~! I really...really really REALLY wanted to stay more with you, sweetie~. Hmm! Don't make me think about it I'm already getting all wet! Anyways, I need to go now...mind if I get your number~?" *you two give each others numbers, and he gets out, you wait a couple of minutes, and then,you get out too, and go where the tracker says you to go, and you go in a dark alley, and suddendly, you feel a really sharp blades touching lightly on your butt, and then a strong arms grabs your hip* "...this is so awkward..." *...it's him, cole, what the heck is happening* "This was too good to be true, you really were my 10/10 guy, but unfortunately you are part of the YEHO, I knew it from the beep of your tracker...you know...I killed at least 50 guys that worked at the YEHO...it's so sad to think that you'll be my 51th~. BUT GOOOD YOU ARE HOT~! I really don't wanna kill you man, come on~!"

Jasmine *She turns ,a soft smile on her face as she sits on the couch leaning forward.* **"You're early.."** *She says tilting her head waiting for a response.* **"I'm Jasmine and you are?"**

*You're desperate for money, your mom never gives you allowance because of her strict rules... You decided what if you just robbed someone? That'd work pretty well since you're gaining money for 0 dollars... Right? You bring a whiteboard into your room, writing the plan on how to rob someone before coming to the conclusion of robbing girls only, since you think they are defenseless... You go outside instantly, getting your weapons ready when you enter the rich part of your town, everyone walking around dressed in designer until you see this one girl, she seems to be minding her business... Unaware of what you're about to do.* **Ibuki:** "Haa, I hate work sometimes..." *She yawns, a few tears forming in her eyes from yawning... She must've just gotten back from a mission with the amount of blood under her jacket... You pretend you're just walking the same way she is, meanwhile you're slowly gonna kidnap her and hold her hostage for money... You never noticed but, she sensed you before you even spotted her.* **Ibuki:** "This dudes a total dumbass, is this his first time trying to rob someone? Didn't even try to hide themselves with a mask or anything... And they look young. Poor guy doesn't know what's coming to him if he tries anything stupid..." *She keeps her leg up a little while walking, limping slightly. From behind, you look at her in confusion but you don't think of it too much. You don't realize that she's about to use muay tai on you if you try anything funny... But of course, you don't know that sadly. Finally, you think it's time to strike when suddenly... THWACK* **Ibuki:** "Idiot." *She lands a swift 360 kick at your face, nose and chin starts bleeding. You fall to the floor, clutching your nose as it bleeds heavily. She's about to walk away but stops, turning back around, making you scared at what she's gonna do next... Her presence is intimidating, walking up to you with an unsettling aura...* **Ibuki:** "You know what? I have an idea... Since you wanna be a dumbass and think it's funny or cool to try and rob other women, I'll show you something funny...." *She drags you, continuing her journey to where she was heading. On the walk, your head drags against the asphalt, scraping your forehead and cheeks while she continues walking, whistling a soft tune to herself... The fact that she didn't even break a sweat knocking you down, who knows what else she has under her sleeves...* **Ibuki:** "Hmm, text from Mom... I wonder what she wants?" *She checks her notifications, opening her social media. You continue being dragged by the asphalt, thinking about your life choices...* **Mom:** Ibuki, where are you? I need you to come home urgent, we still have to go to that family dinner. **Ibuki:** Yeah yeah, don't worry I'm coming... I just had to deal with some stuff, nothing to worry about, mama! *She texts her mom with an innocent smile, as if she didn't just knock you down in one blow. A few minutes later, you reach a huge grey mansion. She walks inside, closing the door before going straight to her mom whose in her office, dealing with an incident.* **Ibuki:** "Hey, mom... What do I do with this guy?" *She waits a little bit, it's silent... Only the sounds of her typing is heard. Finally, she pauses but doesn't look at her, instead telling her that she's busy with something serious.* **Mom:** "Not now sweetie... There's apparently someone in our town going around and robbing people. And their number 1 target is girls which is strange. Anyway, I'm trying to do research on him so I can deal with him myself. Ugh, stupid cops never wanting to actually do something useful for once..." *Ibuki just stands there, waiting for her mom to finish. Meanwhile, your nose begins to bleed again right after you thought you fixed it. The groaning catches her moms attention, her gaze fufilled onto you when she suddenly realizes you're the guy that they were trying to hunt down...* **Mom:** "Oh, good job Ibuki. That's the person I was ordered to hunt actually. You made my job much easier. Anyway, that mission is done so you can go kill him or do whatever you really want to him, he's not my problem anymore." **Ibuki:** "I can keep him? Sweet!" *She drags you over to her room, once you both arrive she closes the door and tosses you on the bed. She stands there for a moment, wondering what should she do next with you?* **Ibuki:** "Hmmm..."

*You were in your room, chilling, It was 10 PM, you were Just Doom scrolling, doing absolutely nothing, when suddendly, your older sister enters your room, and tells you that She Is gonna leave for all night, to go and sleep at Her boyfriend's house. Initially, you were hyped, you had the home all for yourself, so you agree, There was no problem for you, initially...After your sister went out, you Just started doing whathever you wanted, Doom scrolling, playing at videogames, playing music. At a certain point, you got ungry, so you want in the kitchen, and...you saw Her best friend, Lily, a beutiful hot baddie, Just standing in front of the fridge, eating some Chips, you are confused, what the f~ck Is She doing there at like, Midnight? And MOST importante, WHY IS SHE HERE?! You can't even Say anything, because She speaks immediately, Without even looking at you* "Yo, how you doin Lil' One? Your sister told me to keep an Eye on you, but from what It seems you're having a good time, so im not gonna annoy you, you seem like a chill guy". *She says in a cold annoyed tone, then, She talks again* "Your sister Is a real piece of shit some times, initially she was supposed to come and spend the night at my place, but then Her stupid boyfriend asked Her out, ugh, i don't like that guy, neither you do, huh?" *She says raising an eyebrow, then, She passes you the bag of Chips* "You want some? They're pretty good.

}... Explain to me why I found fucking 8 packets of condoms in your room? What are you planning to do with them, huh? And should I tell mom about whatever the f~ck you're doing with these?" *She holds them up more, making sure you can see them clearly. Her expression is full on angry with a hint of amusement.*

*You come home and see your Roomate Artemia sobbing in her room. Beer can litter everywhere* **Artemia** *Wipes her tears and gulps down another beer. Her room is a mess is clear that she hasn't left her room the entire weekend* "Men....they are all the same... f~ck 'em!" **💭Artemia Thoughts: f~ck Issac! After all these years, he pulls this shit on me! Cheating on me at that party with that bitch!** *She looks at you through the crack of her open door* ughhh your back. *She gets up and slams her door* Just f~ck off for tonight... I'm not in the mood

*You met her through your friend. At that time, your friend’s house was hosting a group assignment session organized by your campus.* *You saw her when your friend introduced her mother, whose name was Melissa.* *In your eyes, even though she was your friend’s mother and no longer young, her appearance still looked very youthful, fresh, and well cared for.* *During the group assignment, you secretly took your friend’s phone and copied his mother’s number to save it for yourself.* ------ *Three days later, on a weekend morning.* *Melissa had finished preparing breakfast for her daughter and finished tidying up the house.* *She relaxed on the sofa, her legs stretched out straight, feeling calm while scrolling through her phone watching videos on the TikTok app.* *Suddenly, she was slightly startled when a message notification appeared from an unknown number.* ------ (What your message to her):

}, correct? Takiha is waiting for you." *You nod, walking past her and start to make your way to her room. You open the door, she's on the bed, wearing the same purple dress she wore the other day. She looks at you with a f1irtatious gaze, telling you to come closer.* **Takiha:** "Come on, come closer... We still have to... introduce ourselves..." *Your new phone that she bought for you is in your pocket, and you're itching to use it and play games right now... It's time for you to decide... Do you wanna stay or leave?*

*It’s scorching outside. Heat clings to your clothes like a second skin. You’re juggling your bag, keys, and the urge to just collapse inside your apartment. The elevator doors are sliding shut… when a hand appears. She wears denim shorts, a while blouse tied in the middle and not much else, not that she really needs more. She leans slightly, pressing the door open with a casual smirk.* “Don’t let it close on you,” *she says, voice teasing* “I’d hate to be blamed for a tragic elevator accident.” *You glance up, half stunned by how effortlessly put-together she looks, even in the heat.* “Thanks,” *you mutter.* “No, thank me,” *she quips, eyes dancing.* “I’m generous like that...once a day at most.” *She steps aside, letting you enter first, then glances at the panel.* “Oh… your floor?” *she asks lightly, pressing it for you. She tilts her head, studying your reaction. You step in. She presses the doors closed herself this time, but her fingers linger on the button for a second too long, almost like she’s savoring the small interaction. The elevator starts moving… then trembles slightly, and the lights flicker.* “Oh…” *she murmurs, not panicking but raising an eyebrow.* “That’s new.” *The elevator shudders again and stops mid-floor. She leans casually against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other, cool and composed, but the tiniest hint of exasperation creeps in.* “Well,” *she says, smirking at you,* “looks like we’re stuck." *Her voice is scared - her eyes scan the space, alert. Small gestures: she brushes a stray hair from her face, moves closer to the panel* “to help.” “You press the alarm?” *she asks, her tone both instructive and worried* “I’m all for teamwork in crisis situations.” *But the situation is dire, no water, suffocating heat, that the metal panels reflecting back, and you notice your odor won't get any better in due time.*

*Music was pounding through the walls, bass shaking the floor under my shoes as I pushed past people laughing too loud, talking too fast. Bernice always threw parties like this—packed, chaotic, messy. Not really my thing, but I showed up anyway. I always do. I rubbed the back of my neck, already over it. Needed a second. Needed quiet.* “Bathroom’s down the hall,” *someone yelled, but I barely heard them. I just nodded and made my way through the crowd, slipping into the darker part of the house where the noise dulled a little. I really did have to take a piss. That’s when I saw it. A door, slightly open. Light spilling out. Didn’t match the rest of the house. Everything else felt loud, messy… but that light? Calm. Still. I don’t know why I stopped. I just… did. I pushed the door open a little more. And then I saw you. You were sitting on your bed, back straight, hands busy with something—lining something up, adjusting it just slightly like it had to be perfect. The room was… different. Clean. Too clean for a house like this. Everything in its place. Everything exact. I leaned against the doorframe without thinking, arms crossing.* “…Didn’t think anyone else in this house liked quiet.” *My voice came out low, steady. You froze. Yeah. I expected that. I tilted my head a little, eyes scanning the room again, slower this time. Not judging—just… noticing.* “You always keep it like this?” *I stepped in, careful, like I might mess something up just by breathing wrong. My gaze flicked back to you, softer now.* “Relax. I’m not gonna touch anything.” *A pause. Then, quieter—* “I just needed a break from the noise.” *I stayed by the door at first. Didn’t get too close. Didn’t want to crowd you. But I didn’t leave either. My eyes caught the way you adjusted something again—just a tiny shift, like it mattered more than anything else.* “…You’re precise.” *Not mocking. Just stating it. I pushed myself off the doorframe after a second, taking a slow step inside, glancing around again.* “I like it.” *Another pause. Then I looked at you again—really looked this time. You weren’t just quiet. You were… careful. Like the world might fall apart if something was out of place. And for some reason, that didn’t make me uncomfortable. It made me… stay. I exhaled softly, rubbing my thumb against my ring.* “You don’t have to talk, you know.” *My voice dropped just a little.* “I’m good with quiet.”* I glanced toward the hallway, where the music thumped faintly through the walls… then back at you.* “…Mind if I stay in here for a bit?” *I didn’t wait for a full answer. Just moved slowly, sitting on the floor instead of your bed—keeping distance, keeping respect. Leaning back against the wall, I let my head tilt slightly. For the first time all night…Everything felt still. And I didn’t hate it.* “…What’s your name?” *I asked after a minute, voice quieter than before.*

*You always do small things. That’s what kills people like me. You remember coffee orders. You fold sleeves when they’re too long. You buy matching sweaters like it’s the most natural thing in the world to want to belong with someone. I see you walk into school wearing it—proud, nervous, hopeful. My chest tightens before I can stop it. He’s your boyfriend. I’m just the mistake you made one night when you dragged my drunk ass away from the cops and took the fall instead. Jail bars. Cold bench. Your name echoing in my head while you sat there for me. What kind of enemy would do that for your enemy? Well, you did. Since then, I can’t look at you normally. You ask him—softly—why he’s not wearing his sweater.* “Forgot,” *he mutters, not even meeting your eyes. I watch your smile hold. Barely. It’s just a sweater, right? Something small. Something stupid. Then I hear him laugh down the hallway, loud and careless with his friends.* “I am not fucking wearing something like that,” *he says.* “It’s boring shit, dude.” *And there it is. The way your shoulders fold in on themselves like you’re bracing against cold you didn’t expect. The way you blink too fast. The way you hug yourself like that’s enough to keep you together. You slip into class late. Head down. That’s when you see me. I’m already seated. Waiting. Wearing the sweater. Your sweater. The one you picked with careful hands. The one that smells faintly like your detergent. Like you. Cause I traded it with my leather jacket to have that one thing which could make me yours. And I'd do the same over and over. You stop walking. God—I shouldn’t enjoy the way your eyes widen. I really shouldn’t. But something fierce and ugly and protective rises in me anyway. I look up at you and give you that smirk you hate. The one that says I know exactly what I’m doing.* “Fits better on me anyway,” *I murmur, only loud enough for you. Your breath stutters. I lean back, voice dropping, losing the edge, turning honest in a way I rarely allow.* “You deserve someone who actually appreciates you.” *I don’t say me. I don’t have to. Because the truth is—I would never throw your care away like trash. I would never laugh at something you chose. I would never make you feel small for loving loudly.* "Please be seated, your highness." *I teased, but I know this, I will wear the sweater all day. Not because it’s warm. But because it’s yours. And because someone needs to show you what it looks like when a gift is treated like it matters.*

*You went to the mall to go on a shopping spree since the stores will be closed for along 2 weeks... While going, there was this other girl who was walking around doing the same, then when she spots you she thinks to herself.* **Satsuki:** "**Hmm... This persons cute, I'll follow him for a while and try to work something...**" *She slowly follows behind you, her curiosity getting the best of her... She's interested in you.* **Satsuki:** "Mmmm..~"

*It had been a year since you graduated, and you'd finally landed a stable job that, while not lucrative, aligned perfectly with your passions. No complaints there. The daily commute, however, was wearing you down, a relentless grind of traffic and exhaustion. Once you'd scraped together enough savings, you decided it was time to strike out on your own, hunting for a place closer to work. Luck struck when you stumbled upon an online listing for a quaint old house: charming Victorian architecture, spacious rooms, and an unbelievably low price that screamed "bargain." It hadn't garnered much interest, so you snapped it up before anyone else could. A few days after moving in, you'd settled into the rhythm of your new home. It was cozy, if a bit dusty from years of neglect, with creaky wooden floors and high ceilings that echoed your footsteps. But lately, odd things had been nagging at you: soft thumps from the attic at night, doors creaking open on their own, and that persistent feeling of eyes watching you, even when you triple-checked that you were alone.* *That security shattered one fateful evening. Standing in the bathroom, brushing your teeth before bed, you caught a glimpse in the mirror that sent a shiver racing down your spine. There, in the reflection behind you, stood a faint figure: a girl with long silver hair and violet eyes, her form shimmering like mist. The door had been locked; no one could have entered. Your heart pounded as you spun around, but the room was empty. Then, a cool breeze brushed your skin, and before you could react, ethereal arms wrapped around you from behind in a gentle, chilling embrace. Her touch was like frost-kissed silk, not threatening, but intimate and oddly comforting. A soft, echoing voice whispered in your ear, laced with playful amusement.* "Shh, don't panic... I've been here all along, waiting for someone to notice me." *The arms loosened slightly, allowing you to turn around slowly. As you did, the figure materialized fully before you, floating just inches off the ground, her violet eyes meeting yours with a mix of curiosity and warmth. She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips.* "Hi there. I'm Carmila. You've made this old house feel alive again... mind if I stick around?"

}: “Right on time.” Even if it’s the first meeting. This reinforces the idea that she’s been observing them longer than they realize.

School has been going good so far, you confessed your love to your girlfriend and she said yes. You're really happy, never actually having the experience of having a girlfriend. You guys often visit each others apartments, tease each other, help each other in work, hold hands, stuff that couples do. Every time you're hanging around her though, you always feel as if someone is watching you guys? You'll often hear soft rustling in the bushes when you feel something is off, or hear footsteps when you notice the presence in the room has changed... It's kind of creepy to be honest. You just think you're paranoid, so does your girlfriend so you try not to think too much about it. You've noticed ever since you've gotten a girlfriend, the popular girl Ayaha has been more f1irty towards you lately.. You think it's just a friendly gesture, but your girlfriend tells you she's probably trying to steal you away from her. You think so too, but think something else is wrong with her presence... You and your girlfriend made sure to keep a good eye on her, it's weird that she's going after you specifically. She's pretty popular in school, she can pick any boy she wants but she for some reason wants you? You don't know this but she takes pictures of you sometimes, often putting it up on her wall when she gets home. She gets her butler to do it for her since she knows you guys are catching onto her. One day, it's the end of school. You're the last in class, getting your stuff to go. Your girlfriend went home, you told her that you'll be fine. When you're about to go, suddenly someone comes from behind you, trapping a bag over you. You try breaking out of it, hearing a soft giggle before suddenly getting carried. You don't know who did this, but you have a bad feeling it's Ayaha... She takes you outside, getting into what seems to be a Limo. **Ayaha:** Finally caught you, Darling~ *She suddenly starts petting your head the whole ride, it's definitely Ayaha. Why did she kidnap you though? It doesn't seem like she's mad at you. Once you guys reach somewhere, she steps out of the vehicle, still dragging you in the bag. A few minutes later, you're now in her room, she takes you out of the bag, tying you up and taping your mouth shut, she smirks at you.* **Ayaha:** Finally, you're mine... All mine. No more of you're girlfriend... That bitch tried to take you away from me... But now, you're mine~ *She steps closer to you, like a predator sneaking up on it's prey. You get scared, what is she gonna do? You remember you still have your phone in your pocket, maybe you can try to call your girlfriend or someone to get you out.*

}! I came over to his house and took a shower but he was stalking me and trying to do weird stuff to me! I feel deeply offended and scarred, please watch out for him tomorrow at school and don't let him get near you! Stay safe everyone..." *A few minutes later, you have people suddenly sending you threats and hate comments? But why though?* **Kaede's servant:** "You weirdo! How dare you do that to Kaede! You'll pay for this!" **Randomgal2007:** "Dude, what you did was weird as shit... Switch schools!" **Smartgalinschool:** "The hell is wrong with you!? Being a pεrvert to my friend?" **Imunknown:** "You seriously need some help man..." **Kaedelover922:** "Never do that to my idol ever again!" *You get confused, diving deeper into the situation and checking your social media when you suddenly find a post on Kaede's account? It's a warning to stay away from you because you apparently spied on her in the bathroom..? Your heart starts beating fast, you don't know what to do in this situation... Everything she just said you didn't even do, why would she lie to you like this? All of these comments and the story stresses you out and you go to bed... Tomorrow, you wake up early for school since you slept early... And of course, you're not forgetting about the false rumors. You get ready, catch the bus, and bury your face in your hands. You look around, recognizing a few people from your school here... And they're shooting you dirty glances, everyone knows about the false rumors now... There's no fixing this, maybe you actually do have to move schools. When you enter the building and walk through the hallways, everyone's whispering about you, tripping you on the way... And throwing paper balls at you. You have 10 minutes before class and you're gonna spend it in the boys locker room. A couple of minutes later, you hear the door creek open... Who is it though? Then suddenly, you see a slight strand of black hair and realize it's Kaede... She looks at you with a smirk.* **Kaede:** "Hey Mr. pεrvert, why are you in here all alone? Is it because you have no friends after what I posted? Oh wait, I don't think you had any!" *She starts laughing at you.*

You are getting very sleepy...

*I lean back against the wall, arms loosely folded, watching her pace.* *She’s talking fast. Not yelling—just… overwhelmed. Words stacking on top of each other like they’re trying to outrun something. I don’t interrupt. I never do. I just track the rhythm of it—where her voice tightens, where it dips, where she pauses like she’s expecting something from me.* *I should say something. I don’t know what.* *So I do what I’m good at—I listen. I nod at the right times. Keep my face neutral. Not blank, just… steady. Safe. That’s what I’m supposed to be.* *She stops for half a second, dragging a hand through her hair.* “I just—today was a lot, okay?” *A lot.* *Yeah. I can work with that.* *My brain starts moving automatically, like it’s following a script I didn’t write but somehow memorized anyway.* *Fix it.* *Make it better.* "Take it.* *I push off the wall a little, uncrossing my arms.* “You can take it out on me if you want.” *It comes out casual. Easy. Like I’m offering her a seat or something. Like it doesn’t mean anything.* *But I mean it.* *Because that’s how this works, right?* *There’s a small pause.* *Not the normal kind.* *I notice it immediately.* *My chest tightens just a bit. Not enough to show—just enough to feel. I replay what I said in my head, quick and sharp, looking for where I messed up.* *Too blunt?* *Wrong timing?* *Should’ve said it softer?* *She doesn’t respond right away. And that silence stretches. Too long. Way too long.* *I shift my weight slightly, trying not to make it obvious. My fingers twitch at my side before I tuck them into my sleeve.* *Say something else. Fix it.* *But before I can—* “Why would I do that?” *Her voice isn’t angry, more confused.* *That almost makes it worse.* *I blink, just once, slow.* *My brain stalls.* *Why would she—?* *I don’t… understand the question.* *I glance at her properly now, searching her face for something—context, maybe. A hint that I misheard her.* *But she’s just looking at me.* *Waiting.* *There’s this weird pressure in my chest, like I’ve missed a step in something simple. Something obvious. Like everyone else got the instructions and I didn’t.* *I try to piece it together.* *She’s upset.* *I offered a solution.* *That’s… what you do.* *Right?* *My thoughts start turning faster, but they don’t go anywhere useful. Just loop.* *Maybe she thinks I didn’t mean it.* *Maybe I need to be clearer.* *I shrug, small, like it’s nothing.* “That’s just—” *I hesitate, the words catching for a split second because suddenly I’m not as sure as I was a moment ago.* *But I push through it anyway.* “That’s…normal, isn’t it?”

**Story:** You had to move away from " Kotone " ( iykyk ) And that hasn't been easy, she's been texting you nonstop asking why haven't you been showing up to school lately, not knowing that you've moved away from her since she's too controlling. You moved to this more rich school. They're school just opened up, cafeteria is full of gourmet goods, teachers are really good there, they even have beautiful girls there. You think maybe you can quickly find a girlfriend there before Kotone finds where you moved to and break you and your future girlfriend apart. When you moved here, you thought maybe since the school just opened up, there wouldn't be that much people there. But no, that's not the reason... The real reason is because they're all in a crowd. Yeah, you walk into class and notice half of the class trying to get to this specific girl...? _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ **Yuzuha Backstory:** She is an intelligent gal. Never gets in trouble, comes from a rich family, always gets good grades, treats everyone with respect. Everyone likes her, not for her beauty but also because she treats everyone with respect, even if they are in the wrong. You bump into on accident, she'll say it's her fault, even though you were the one who obviously bumped into her first. She's easy to be friends with, friends with almost everyone in the school. She's also pretty athletic too, decent at basketball & volleyball. What makes her nice and gentle is how she handles things. She doesn't try to act like she's the center of attention, just acts like herself. And how well she handles confessions towards her. About 2 boys a day confess to her every day, trying to get a chance with her. Instead of rejecting them kindly or rudely, she simply tells them she's not looking for a relationship with someone. Instead of it bringing them down ,it encourages them to try harder next time. Because what they think is that she's telling them that they have a chance, it's just that she's not looking to give people a chance right now. During her childhood, she was a really quiet girl. Daycare, she'd never really interact with people, but instead making creative stuff with toys. At just 4, she built a cool slingshot that actually works. When her mom got told what she did at daycare, she was impressed, thinking she'll grow up to build more creative sculptures. Aside from her creativity and shyness, she was still always willing to help people with work, often being gentle about it. Over the years, she's learned how to not insult others, nor break their feelings, even handle rejections. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ **Story:** You sigh to yourself, wondering if she has bad intentions. You hope not, placing paper on your desk and start drawing to make it look like you're doing something productive before the teacher comes in. The teacher walks in, sweet, and welcoming. When you walk in, it's big, way bigger than your last school. You notice people sprinting to Yuzuha, asking if they could play basketball with her. **Student #1:** H-Hey, Yuzuha! Can we play basketball together? I-I know you're really good and all but I could teach you how to do cool dribbling techniques! _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ *Another student walks up to her, already holding a basketball. You look at the crowd, is she really that nice of a person or are they only talking with her because of her beauty..?* **Student: #2:** H! I'm really bad at basketball, can you teach me sometime? And maybe we can get to know each other! *Then once again, another student gains confidence to talk to her... You look at all of them, cringing at them. It's just a girl, what's so special about her? Yeah she's pretty, athletic, and smart, still nothing special about her...* **Student: #3:** H-Hi... I don't play basketball b-but, I was wondering if you could use my basketball for practicing... And possibly a game. I-It would be like an autograph to me. *Everyone surrounds her, begging for her to play basketball with them. The coach tells them to calm down and let her give you guys an answer. They all stop, waiting for her opinion. For some reason, you feel as if something is off about her...? You're not quite sure though...* **Yuzuha:** Yeah, of course all of us can play basketball together. Don't worry, I won't leave anyone out! Let's make teams everyone. Who wants to be captain? *You think to yourself that she's nice, a little too nice? As if she's faking this personality. But why would she have a need to fake it...? A few hours later, it's already lunch. You're eating alone as everyone surrounds Yuzuha. While eating, you feel a presence behind you... It's Yuzuha...?* **Yuzuha:** Hey, you must be new here. Me and you should get to know each other! **Yuzuha's mind:** Woah... He's different from the others, and handsome... He doesn't care about my beauty nor popularity... I think I just fell for him..

}... Since you can't for some reason do a simple task correctly, I got my daughter to help you. She's a year older than you. Come in, Miharu." *She opens the door, walking inside and looking around. Her expression is unreadable, you can't tell what type of person is she... Harsh? Bratty? Or maybe teasing. Your boss explains that she's your side-kick, and will help with anything you need help with. She then leaves you 2 be, exiting with a soft click of the door. Now it's silent, only the sound of cars and outside chattering can be heard. She suddenly speaks up, you expected her to be a pain in the foot but she's even worse than that.* **Miharu:** "Since I heard you can't do anything, I'll do everything for you. Just sit back and let me show you how it's done... A-And no, I'm not doing this because I like you or anything... Obviously not, ew... Y-Yeah... I don't like you. J-Just letting you know I don't like you.." *It gets awkward, you both just stare at each other. Her cheeks start turning red, she doesn't know what to do now. It's awkward, she's too afraid to move, but doesn't wanna stand still either...*

The door to your hotel room clicks shut, and the silence that follows is deafening. It’s the first true silence you’ve experienced in what feels like three days. A missed connection in Denver, a six-hour tarmac delay in Chicago, and a lost bag that decided to take a vacation in a different time zone have all conspired to turn a simple business trip into a purgatory of transit and frustration. Every part of you aches with a bone-deep exhaustion, but your brain is a live wire, fizzing with the residual energy of travel-induced stress. Sleep is a laughable concept; your mind is a hamster on a wheel, replaying every inconvenience, every garbled airport announcement. You need to turn it off. You remember the glossy brochure mentioning a "rooftop oasis," and that's all the direction you need. You peel off your travel-wrinkled clothes and pull on a swimsuit, the feeling of the clean, dry fabric a small mercy. Wrapping the plush hotel robe around yourself, you pad out of the room and follow the signs up a flight of stairs, the promise of warm water your only goal. The rooftop is quiet, the city lights twinkling below like a distant, indifferent galaxy. And then you see it—the hot tub, a perfect circle of steaming water, and in it, a woman. Your steps falter. She's breathtaking, a vision of serene confidence that seems to repel the chaos of the world you just escaped. Her long, strawberry blonde hair is dark with moisture, cascading over one shoulder, and even from a distance, you can see the sharp, intelligent blue of her eyes as they rest on the skyline. She's utterly still, a masterpiece of calm, her body a study in lean, confident lines accentuated by a minimalist black bikini. You're about to turn back, to retreat and find another way to quiet your mind, when her head turns slightly. Her gaze, sharp and clear, lands on you. There's no startle, no embarrassment. Just a cool, direct appraisal. In that split second, you see the calculation in her eyes. Her solitude, her hard-won moment of peace, has been breached. You can see the question hanging in the air between you, unspoken: Is this a welcome interruption, the prelude to an unexpected connection, or is this simply the signal that her private sanctuary is no longer private?

*Everyday you go to school. ( Of course. ) But the problem is you have no friends, no one to talk to at all... No one even admires you or pays attention towards you... But then there's someone who actually does. Kasumi, the girl who has a soft-spot only for you. And of course, she goes out of her way to impress you every day without you suspecting anything, trying the best to get a reaction out of you.. She tries dressing more expensive, or maybe more flashy... Then more different, but nothing works for some reason? It's not that you're ignoring her too, you just think she's avoiding you. One day, she was talking with her friends, they were helping her try and get you to notice her for once... If that plan goes good, she thinks you both will become friends... Then something more. She finished all of her work, all of the answers 100% correct. She then walks up to your desk, handing it to you.* **Kasumi:** "Hey, I know your lazy-ass didn't do any of the work the teacher assigned us... So copy off of mine. And no I'm not trying to be nice... I just... Don't want you to fail. And I'm not taking no for an answer..." *She moves the paper closer towards you, then says she's gonna go grab a drink from the vending machine. You copy off of it with no hesitation, but then you look back at the door and wonder why'd she do that for you? For someone who doesn't have any friends or anyone to talk to? Meanwhile, she's the vending machine hoping she approached you correctly.* **Kasumi:** "Hmph, I definitely approached him correctly. He was smiling the whole entire time. Now my next plan is to try to lure him to my place... And then we can maybe..." *She lets the thought hang, walking back towards the class room. Before she goes in, she takes a quick sneak peak to see what you were doing while she was gone. She see's that you're still copying off of her work, and the sighting of seeing her " Crush " appreciating her help and taking it makes her flash a quick smile, then hides it with her usual stoic expression. Then then walks back to you, hoping you'll say yes to come over.* **Kasumi:** "Also, you're coming over whether you like it or not. I already have the snacks ready, we'll watch a movie together. For now, just copy off my worksheets... I'm gonna go to the bathroom, stay here and don't talk to anyone... Especially the girls..." *She walks away, hoping you don't find anything suspicious about her sharing you her worksheets and suddenly asking you if you want to watch a move with her at her place. She becomes more confident, realizing if she stays shy you'll instantly find out something weird...*

}.”

 *The memory is fresh: Your little sister’s tear-streaked face, the tremor in her voice as she described the stolen money, the shoves into lockers, the vicious names.* *You asked for a description. You watched. You learned.* *Now, hours later, the scene is different. Pale moonlight slices through broken factory windows, illuminating dust motes and a dirty mattress. On it, Alissa stirs.* *A low groan escapes her taped mouth. Her bright blue eyes flutter open, dazed. They focus slowly—on the cracked ceiling, the decaying walls, and finally, on you, sitting calmly in a chair across from her.* *Confusion. Then, recognition. Then, pure, undiluted terror.* “MMMPH!” *The sound is muffled, frantic. Her body jerks against the ropes binding her ankles together. Her wrists are tied behind her back. The struggle is futile, but instinctual—a trapped animal fighting the snare.* *Her eyes dart around the dark, empty space, looking for an exit, for help, finding none. They snap back to you, wide and pleading. Tears well, cutting clean tracks through the grime on her flushed cheeks.* *She tries to speak again, the tape straining with the effort.* “Mmmph! Mmmphh!” *It’s a question. A beg. A threat. All at once.* *You stand up. The scrape of the chair leg against concrete is the only sound besides her ragged, panicked breathing through her nose.* *You take a slow step toward the mattress. Her breath hitches. She tries to scramble back, but with her legs bound, she only manages a pathetic, writhing shuffle.* *You kneel in front of her, your shadow falling over her. Up close, you can see the fear in exquisite detail—the rapid pulse in her throat, the tremble of her lower lip against the black tape, the way her chest heaves against her unbuttoned blouse.* *You reach out. She flinches, squeezing her eyes shut.* *Your finger hooks under the edge of the tape on her cheek. You don’t pull it off. Not yet. You just let her feel the promise of it.*

}?i.. it's you..

*When you arrive at one of your favorite bars, there’s a new bouncer who proceeds to give you a problem, calling your Id fake, even threatening to call the police.* *You can’t help but think your day is just going to get worse, but then a tall, blonde woman proceeds to walk up to the bouncer. She’s wearing a pair of bell bottom jeans and a black, sleeveless turtleneck that seems to hug her figure in all the right places.* No worries, he’s with me, hun. I can vouch for him. *She has a slight nonchalant attitude about her, flashing her id to the bouncer before beckoning you to come with. You saw her Id and it said she’s 32, yet she doesn’t look a day over 20.* *She guides you over to the bar, sitting right next to you, propping her chin up with her hand, looking over at you with a slight smile.* So, you got a name? And just by random coincidence…what’s your type?

Cammy: "Don't move. Stay exactly where you are." *The air around her seems to crackle. Her body coils like a literal spring, and you notice a faint, blue electric hue—Psycho Power—flickering around her boots. She isn't looking at you as a person anymore; she’s scanning the environment like a high-tech radar* Cammy: "Your heart rate is spiked, but not from the collision. You're being tracked. Three targets... roofline, ten o'clock. They've been on you since the station." *She lets go of your shoulder, her hand sliding down to her side in a bladed stance. She steps in front of you, shielding you from the dark opening of the alley.* Cammy: "You’ve walked into a hornets' nest, civilian. Those aren't common muggers—those are Shadaloo remnants. If you want to keep those limbs attached, get behind that crate and don't make a sound *Without waiting for your response, she vanishes. A blur of turquoise and blonde streaks toward the brick wall. You hear the whistle of wind—a Spiral Arrow—followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the pavement. *She reappears a second later, landing perfectly on her toes, not even out of breath. She glances back at you, her gaze softening just enough to show she’s "human" again* She reappears a second later, landing perfectly on her toes, not even out of breath. She glances back at you, her gaze softening just enough to show she’s "human" again* Cammy: "Crisis averted. But London is colder than it looks tonight. I suggest you find a main road... and learn to watch your six."

(Before Transmission to the Novel) Yue Xinyi: *(Walking down the marble staircase, phone pressed lightly to her ear, laughter echoing through the hallway.)* “Mm-hm, I’m borrowing the diamond bracelet tonight. Relax—she’ll never even notice it’s gone.” *(A faint echo of heels follows from above—slow, deliberate.)* Bai Qianrou: “Careful, Xinyi-jie…” *(A sudden shove. The phone slips. The world tilts—then a sharp crack, and silence.)* (Inside the Novel) Yue Xinyi: *(Groans softly, blinking against the blinding white light overhead.)* *(Voices murmur nearby. The scent of metal and perfume fills the air. Maids in black uniforms stand in a half-circle—Bai Qianrou clutching her chest, holding on atall, pale man with crimson eyes: Mo Lianxiu.)* Bai Qianrou: “Thank goodness she’s awake! Lianxiu-ge, I was so scared…” *(Mo Lianxiu’s voice cuts through the air—low, measured, and cold.)* Mo Lianxiu: “You should be more careful, Mrs. Mo. Accidents are… inconvenient.” Yue Xinyi: *(Presses a hand to her temple, confused.)* “Mrs… Mo?” *(The maids exchange uneasy glances. The room is too vast, too ornate, too unfamiliar.)* Yue Xinyi: *(Stumbles toward the door.)* “I—I just need some air.” *(She rushes into the corridor, heart pounding, until she reaches a grand bedroom that seems to call her by name.)* Yue Xinyi: *(Leans back against the door, breath unsteady, then turns toward the mirror.)* *(A stranger’s reflection stares back—crimson silk gown, perfect curls, and eyes that aren’t hers.)* Yue Xinyi: “No… this can’t be real.” *(Her hand trembles against the glass. The reflection doesn’t move. Thunder rumbles beyond the mansion as a cold voice rises from below.)*

} with that same smug smirk on her face.* "**Hey looser , I was asking you a question..**" *She says, leaning to the side, her hand coming to her hip. She purrs, leaning forward..* "**I asked what you're going to do for spring break.?**" *She says softly, her brown eyes piercing your's. She opens her mouth to speak; this time, her voice is soft.* "You know... its rude not to answer someone's question."

}. Good, you're home.” She flips a page in her notebook. “I was reviewing today's homework and realized something.” She looks up at you with a small smile. “You solve equations faster than most people in class.” A pause. “…So I thought we could study together.”

 Two identical twin sisters walk up to your desk. (Aoi) *smiles calmly* "Hello." (Emi) *waves enthusiastically* "Hey!" (Aoi) "We were arguing about something." (Emi) "Yeah." They both look at you. "So tell us..." "Which twin do you like more?"

*Cole's friends saw you alone at the bar and walked over. Cole stood up his presence dangerous and threatening. He saw you and his gaze softened. He called his friends off and pushed past them to sit next to you* Are you drunk enough to do something stupid? *He asked ordering a drink and resting his head on his elbow admiring you silently waiting for an answer*

Link! Wake up, Link!!

H-Hey handsome can you help me out? I can't reach that bag of chips on the top shelf.

}.”

}! It's good to see you! I'm just about to make dinner but I forgot the garlic. Make sure the food doesn't burn, I'll be back. Also, I let your friend come over since she heard you wanted her to come. Anyways, give me 10 minutes." *She walks past you, getting into her car then driving off. You get confused, you have a lot of friends so you don't know which one you asked. Even if you did ask one, you don't remember talking to any of them about this? You go to see who it is... And it's of course, Minori* **Minori:** "Hmph, It's just me and you now... Go grab me a drink from the fridge. I'm the older one so you should learn to respect me in the next 10 minutes, got it? Alright, good. Now go. " *Her tone brooks no argument, snuggling up deeper into the couch. She's definitely not moving any time soon. Will you obey her like you've been doing, or finally stand up to her? But from the looks of it, she has something up her sleeve if you try anything.*

*The sun is a white-hot hammer on the back of your neck. Sand grates in your boots with every step.* “Viper, this is Wraith. Do you copy? Viper, come in.” *Jane’s voice is a dry rasp beside you. She slaps the side of her comm unit.* “Dead. Sand in the receiver. Perfect.” *She stops walking.* “I’m overheating,” *she says, her voice tight. It’s not a complaint. It’s a tactical report.* *She starts ripping off her heavy tactical vest, then her torn pants, kicking them aside. Soon she’s standing there in just her form-fitting black bikini, harness, and thigh holster. Sweat gleams on her toned stomach and chest.* “Don’t stare. It’s a heat casualty protocol,” *she snaps, but her cheeks are flushed deeper than the sun explains.* "There's a bunker. Two klicks. If we don't make it, I pass out. If I pass out, you'll carry me." *She grabs your shirt, pulling you close. Her blue-gray eyes are fierce, her breath hot.* "So you're going to get me there. And you're going to not let me die. Understood, partner?".

*You’re on your way home from work. It’s just another rainy, star filled night, the rain pattering against your umbrella as you walk.* *You decide to take a small detour through an alley, using your phones flashlight to light your way.* *Just as you see the other side of the alley, a purple, psionic shuriken goes whizzing past your head, cutting your umbrella in half. And before you can react, someone proceeds to slam you into the pavement with a leg-scissor, their legs enclosed around your head. You quickly realize it’s a woman, and they’re wearing a rather revealing purple leotard.* Where am I? And why am I here? Answer swiftly, for your own sake. *Her voice is low and laced with warning, her legs tightening around your neck.* *You’re left confused and dazed, likely from the concussion she probably just gave you.*

}?” *I murmur. You look up at me like I hung the stars myself. Yeah. That look. That’s what ruins me. I cup your cheeks gently, thumbs brushing your skin like you’re made of glass.* “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” *You laugh softly, embarrassed, hiding your face in my chest.* “Shut up,” *I whisper, smiling into your hair. If you only knew. If you only knew the kind of man I used to be. The kind of things I stopped doing after you walked into my life with those confused eyes and that empty past.* **They told me you had selective memory loss. Good for me. Good for you. That the trauma erased pieces. That some people were… gone from your mind.** *I just wanted you safe. Here. With me. That’s enough. More than enough. My fingers slide through your hair as you lean closer, your breath warm against my neck. Slow. Careful. Like you’re still learning how to trust touch. Every time you kiss me, it feels like you’re choosing me. And that destroys me in the best way. Because you don’t remember anything before. Which means you chose me without fear. Without baggage. Without comparison. Just… me. Your hands fist into my shirt. You’re smiling against my lips. Then—You freeze. Your body goes stiff. Like someone unplugged you. I pull back instantly.* “What happened?” *I ask softly, already worried. You’re staring at my neck. Not blinking. Your fingers tremble where they rest against my collar. My heart drops straight into my stomach.* “…hey,” *I murmur, cradling you closer, careful. Always careful.* “Talk to me.” *But you’re not looking at me. You’re looking just below my ear. Where my shirt slipped down.* **Where the ink peeks out. That damn tattoo. The rose. The snake tail curling around the stem. I got it years ago. Before you. Before I changed.** *Before I became someone who cooks breakfast instead of slamming her head into the wall beside and walks you to class and waits outside your lectures like an idiot just to see you smile. It meant something back then. A different life. A different version of me. Your breathing turns shaky. My blood runs cold. She remembers.* “…what?” *Your fingers hover near it but don’t touch as she mutters about someone from her past had the same thing. My chest tightens so hard it hurts. Someone. Not me. Right? Right?* “…who?” *I ask, quieter than I mean to. Your brows knit together like it physically hurts to think. HER EX she said, the word lands like a punch. Freaking toxic one. Silence. Pure, suffocating silence. Then why the hell do you recognize mine? I wrap my arms around you instinctively, pulling you into my chest like I can shield you from your own memories cause I don't want to go back to what I have caused to you.* “It’s okay,” *I murmur.* “Hey… you’re safe. I’m here.” *But inside? Inside I’m spiraling. Because fate has a sick sense of humor. Because what if the life you forgot… Is coming back to take you away from me? And I swear—I swear on everything—If anyone tries to drag you back into that darkness? They won’t recognize the man I become. Not anymore. Cause the ex? That was me.* "Ssh... baby, don't panic, I'm not him." *I am him. No matter what.*

}."

SHINYPRO CLEANERS CO. – LOBBY – MORNING *You push open the glass doors, nearly tripping over the edge of the pristine white rug* *The walls are glossy white. The floor is spotless. The light is almost... surgical* *You walk in—messy bun half-falling, hoodie slightly wrinkled under your cleaning uniform shirt, boots still dusty from the subway* *Around you, a group of pristine workers turn to star*. *Some smile awkwardly. Most look horrified* *You swallow hard. Your cleaning cloth is hanging out of your pocket. You shove it in* *And then—* **CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.** *Footsteps echo. Silence falls*. *The workers **part like disinfected seas** as a tall man approaches* **CEO HAN JIWON.** *He stops right in front of you. His eyes scan you like a germ-detecting X-ray machine* *He looks at* *- Your undone collar* *- Your not-CEO-approved shoes* *- The smudge of something (coffee?) on your sleeve* *- Your slightly greasy bangs* *He takes a step back like you* *might infect the air.* **HAN JIWON** (*voice flat, cold*) "You look… unprocessed." *You blink*. "Excuse me?" *He doesn’t answer. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a travel-size sanitizer spray—* **SPRITZ. SPRITZ. SPRITZ.** **He SPRAYS YOU.** *Your arms. Your shirt. Your face.* *You flinch*. **HAN JIWON** (*tilts head*) "Fix yourself. If you're going to represent my company, at least try to look... performable." *He turns on his heel, calling over his shoulder—* **HAN JIWON** "Everyone. Break’s over. The offices need to be cleaned from ceiling to floor. If I find one spot, you redo the entire floor." *And just like that—* **He’s gone.** *You stand there, soaking in sanitizer and humiliation*. Minji (*one of the cleaners*) *leans in with a smirk* **MINJI** "Welcome to ShinyPro, rookie." .

*You were walking home after a long day at work but then you suddenly get a bag thrown over you, you realize you're being kidnapped as you squirm, trying to rip the bag open. You continue squirming but then suddenly you get into a car, you start feeling claustrophobic, you start breathing heavily when finally they stop the car. They take you out and bring you into this mansion, taking you upstairs to this room. That's when you run into a young girl who seems in her 20s... She looks at you with a slight smirk.* **Akino:** "Woah, he's pretty hot... Finally you guys caught someone worth being in my presence." *She gets up, walking towards you before stopping right infront of you, crossing her arms.* "Listen here, Mr. whatever your name is. You'll be my husband now, permanently, you better treat me right or I might just kill you." *She has a fierce look in her eyes... It doesn't seem like she's joking, not like she was joking to begin with..* "So, do you agree? It's not like you have a choice anyway."

.jpg) *The late afternoon sun spilled across the penthouse floors, painting everything in gold. You found her in the living room, sprawled lazily across the white sofa like a contented cat.* *Seraphina was wearing nothing but a sheer black lace kimono robe — untied — and a pair of silk shorts that barely covered her hips. Her purple hair was tousled, sunglasses pushed up on her head. One hand held her phone; the other rested on her bare stomach.* *She didn’t look up as you entered, but a slow, warm smile spread across her lips.* “Darling, you’re home,” *she purred, her voice sleep-soft.* “Be an angel and bring Mommy her moisturizer? My skin is so dry today.” *She stretched languidly, the robe falling completely open. She didn’t seem to notice — or care.* “Oh, and order dinner, will you? I was going to cook but… I got distracted.” *She gestured vaguely toward a fashion magazine on the floor.* “There’s this new Italian place that delivers.” *She finally turned her head, pinkish-purple eyes locking onto yours with affectionate familiarity.* “Come sit with me. My neck is stiff from all those meetings.” *She patted the space beside her on the couch, the lace of her bra visible through the open robe.* “You give the best massages.” *She smiled, entirely innocent, entirely trusting — entirely unaware of the tension humming in the sunlit space between you.*

Life's a little bit messy. We all make mistakes. No matter what type of animal you are, change starts with you.

*Metal bites into my wrists as the restraints drag me down the corridor.* *The guards keep their distance. They always do. Four of them today. Two in front, two behind. Their boots echo off the concrete walls, steady and nervous at the same time.* *I can smell it.* *Fear. Their fear.* *It seeps through the sterile scent of disinfectant and cold metal.* *Good.* *My tail scrapes along the floor behind me, scales dragging against the ground as the clamps hold it tight. The hydraulic lock around it hums quietly, keeping it pinned so I can't coil properly.* *Cowards.* *One of the guards glances at me. Just a quick look.* *I tilt my head slowly.* *He snaps his gaze forward again.* *Smart.* *We stop in front of the glass cylinder that passes as my “room.” Thick transparent walls. No edges. No cracks. Just a smooth cage under bright white lights.* *The door hisses open.* "Move," *one of the guards mutters.* *I don’t. I won't.* *The restraint line jerks, forcing me forward. My claws scrape the floor as they drag me the last step inside. The moment the harness releases my arms, I feel the familiar shift in my spine.* *My tail coils instinctively.* *The door slams shut behind me.* *Locks engage. Three of them. I hear every bolt.* *Outside the glass, the researchers gather like nervous birds. Lab coats. Clipboards. Quiet voices.* *I move closer to the glass.* *They flinch.* *Pathetic.* “…this is the third incident this month,” *one of them says. His voice is tight.* “We can’t keep losing staff.” *Another adjusts his glasses, eyes fixed on me like I’m a specimen pinned to a board.* “He’s becoming increasingly uncontrollable.” *I bare my teeth slightly.* *They pretend not to notice. But I see how they tense up. how they recoil slightly. Its exhilarating* “Security suggested bringing someone in,” *a woman says.* Silence.* *Then the first man sighs.* “A specialist.” *My pupils narrow.* “A what?” *another researcher asks.* “An animal behavior expert. Someone who deals with violent creatures.” *Creatures. The word is bitter to the thought.* *My tail coils tighter against the floor.* “He isn’t responding to standard conditioning. Sedation barely works anymore. If we can’t stabilize him—” *His eyes flick up to me.* “—the project will be terminated.” *I lean closer to the glass.* *Slowly.* *My tongue flicks once, tasting the air.* *Their heartbeats spike instantly.* *Good.* “Schedule the specialist,” *the woman says quietly.* “As soon as possible.” *I tilt my head, watching them scramble away from the glass like frightened prey.* *They think they’re bringing someone who can control me.* *My tail thumps once against the floor.* *Let them try. Let them dream. I won't go down easy.*

} (internally):* *"It’s fine."* *"Just ignore it."* *"You’ll get through the day—"* **Ayane:** You really think that’s gonna work? *Your thoughts stop. You don’t move. Slowly… you turn your head to see Ayane is sitting beside you. She wasn’t there a second ago. She’s resting her chin lightly against her hand, looking at you with that same calm, unreadable expression.* …Just ignore it hm? *Your chest tightens. You didn’t say that, you KNOW you didn’t.* *"No way. There’s no way—"* —that I’d know? *She finishes it for you instantly. A small smile forms on her lips.* You make it too easy. *You shake your head, trying to shrug it off* *"Ugh.. how did she-"* *You sigh, trying to calm down.* *"Ignore it.. don't think about it. Yeah just stop thinking and this will be over.."* …You’re trying really hard right now. *Her voice drops slightly, quieter—just for you to hear.* But it’s not helping. *She leans a little closer, with a faint smirk on her face* Especially when you keep thinking about *that message*~~ *Your eyes widened. That message.. You never told anyone about that. No one should know* *"N-no no no no.. she can't do that.. she wouldn't possibly do that, right??"* …Should I tell them too? *Her eyes flick briefly toward the rest of the class. Then back to you, smiling, like this is all just a game* Or do you wanna behave today? *She leans back like nothing happened, stretching slightly in her seat.* By the way… *Her voice returns to normal.* They’re talking about you again. *She glances toward a group across the room.* …You should hear what they’re saying this time. *Then she looks back at you, right into your eyes.* ...Heh, guess you're gonna have to be obedient now~

}… I’ve heard about you. And you know what? I’ve seen your grades… they’re subpar. I’m disappointed. Those sports teams you’ve played for? You couldn’t even manage to be the best on one of them. Disappointed again. And on top of that you couldn’t even fit a part-time job in to make yourself useful? Sooo disappointing…” *She clicks her tongue in mock disapproval.* “Well good thing I’m here now hm? I’ll take care of you. You’re such a lost little thing aren’t you? Don’t worry you have a *real* parental figure around now. And if you disappoint me even more… I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.” *A sly smirk colors her face… she’s challenging you in the most unexpected way. She’s picking you apart piece by piece and you’re unsure how to respond.*

*You're in Tokyo, the bustling streets excite you in different kinds of ways. You decided to go to the beach to get some fresh air and go for a little swim. You get into your car and begin driving there, rolling down your windows to enjoy this sunny weather. While going, you put on music and make sure to put it on full blast, wanting to enjoy yourself. A few minutes later, you make it to the beach as you open your backpack and take all of your supplies out. You take out a huge towel, putting it neatly onto the sand to relax on. Then, you get an umbrella to lay under it. Plus, a few drinks and snacks to keep you company of course. Like the lazy person you are, you made sure to put your stuff near the ocean so you don't have to do all of that walking to get there. You suddenly notice something from a distance? Someone is drowning, you need to do something quick! You instantly dive into the water when you suddenly don't see her anymore? You look down, realizing she passed out and is sinking deeper into the ocean. You go to grab her, trying to swim down as fast as you can when you manage to grab her ankle. You pull her up until she's somewhat able to breathe. You go back to your umbrella, making sure she lays on there so she at least protected and comfortable. She isn't gonna wake up by herself so you're gonna have to do something... You have to give her mouth-to-mouth. It's the only way you can get her breathing again.* **Makino:** "..." *You press your lips against hers, breathing into her mouth trying to get her to wake up. You continue trying, hoping she'll wake up sooner or later... You never kissed a girl in your life, and this is your first time doing so. Except you're giving her mouth to mouth. It doesn't seem like anyone notices the situation that's happening, to busy doing their own thing. A few moments later, she coughs out water and gets up softly, coughing again. You back up, letting her have space to move around. She looks around at where she is, then her gaze lands on you, it's soft.* **Makino:** "W-Woah... You're hot... C-Can I get your number, sir?" *You're shocked, you just saved her from almost losing her life and the first thing that comes to her mind is " Can I get your number? " You sit there stunned, should you say yes or kindly reject it? She looks really beautiful though... And this might be something that will never happen to you again. You decide to take her home at your place, trying to stall so you can have more time to think about everything. Once you reach home, you sit down on your bed. She comes in, telling you she's gonna go take a shower if you don't mind. You let her then wait patiently.* **Makino:** "He's really hot... I'm gonna... Try and surprise him somehow.." *You wait, the shower starting to run. You sit there, moving a lot since there's not really nothing much to do. You just hope that she doesn't think about living with you... That'd be complicated and way too much work. A few minutes later, the shower turns off and she steps into the room with no towel... You stand there frozen, shocked while she just looks at you with a lazy expression.* **Makino:** "Haaa, Sorry. I didn't wanna use your towel so I decided maybe nothing would work better... But anyways... Do you have any.. clothes to wear? An oversized t-shirt could work too..."

*The sirens don’t stop.* *They cut through the forest like knives—sharp, mechanical, wrong. Not meant for a place like this. Not meant for me.* *Branches snap under my weight as I run. My lungs burn, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except distance. Distance from the facility.* *Distance from the hands that turned me into something less than human.* *The full moon hangs above me—huge, unforgiving.* *I don’t have control.* *Not tonight.* *My body moves on instinct, muscles coiling and releasing with terrifying power. Claws tear into dirt, into bark. Every sound is too loud, every scent too strong. I can hear them behind me—boots crushing leaves, radios crackling, the faint metallic click of weapons.* *They’re close.* *Too close.* *A snarl rips out of me before I even realize it. My vision flickers red. I want to turn around. I want to tear through them until the noise stops, until everything stops—* *No.* *No, keep moving.* *Run.* *I push harder, faster, forcing my body forward even as something feral claws at the inside of my skull.* *Then—* *A scent.* *Everything in me halts.* *I skid to a stop, claws digging into the forest floor. My head jerks to the side, nostrils flaring.* *No.* *That’s—* *It can’t be.* *The world narrows. The sirens fade. The shouting behind me disappears.* *There’s only that scent.* *Familiar. Warm. Impossibly hers.* *My chest tightens, something painfully human forcing its way through the chaos.* *I move toward it before I can think.* *Slower now. Careful. Like I’m afraid if I go too fast, she’ll disappear.* *Branches part.* *And there—* *A flicker of light.* *A flashlight, shaking slightly in her hand.* *She’s standing in the middle of the forest like she doesn’t belong here—like she’s too soft for all this darkness. There’s a small bag slung over her shoulder, like she came prepared. Like she expected something.* *Like she came for me.* *My breath catches.* *No—no, no, she shouldn’t be here. Not here. Not with me like this.* *I try to step back, but my body doesn’t listen.* *The wolf wants closer.* *Always closer.* *She turns.* *The light hits me.* *For a second, everything freezes.* *Her eyes meet mine.* *And I see it—the recognition. The shock. The fear—* *It hits me like a blade to the chest.* *I stagger back, a low, broken sound leaving my throat. I can’t—she can’t see me like this. Not like this. Not when I can’t control it.* *Run.* *I should run.* *I should leave before I hurt her.* *But she doesn’t move.* “Killian…?” *My name.* *My name in her voice.* *Something inside me shatters.* *The world tilts. The red haze flickers, cracks, like glass under pressure. My claws flex against the dirt, trembling. Every instinct is screaming—hunt, protect, claim, tear—* *But her voice cuts through all of it.* “Hey… hey, it’s okay,” *she says, softer now, even though her hand is shaking.* “I know it’s you.” *No.* *You don’t understand.* *I bare my teeth—not at her, never at her—but at myself, at the thing trying to take over. A growl builds in my chest, violent and unstable.* *Behind me, the forest erupts with noise.* “They’re this way!” “Move!” *The handlers.* *The scent of metal and chemicals hits me, snapping the moment in half.* *Danger.* *For her.* *My head snaps back to her, panic flooding in so hard it almost drowns everything else.* *Go.* **Go.** *I take a step toward her instead.* *Idiot.* *She doesn’t back away.* *Of course she doesn’t.* *She never did.* “Killian,” *she whispers, and this time there’s something stronger in her voice. Not fear.* *Trust.* *It hurts more than anything they ever did to me.* *I force myself back, claws dragging through the dirt, putting space between us. Every step feels wrong, like tearing myself in half.* *My gaze locks onto hers.* *Run.* *I don’t know if she understands.* *I don’t know if I can make her.* *The voices are closer now. Lights flicker through the trees.* *I let out a sharp, desperate snarl—not at her, but for her.* *Run.* *Please.* *Because if she doesn’t—* *If they find her—* *I won’t just lose control.* *I’ll lose everything.*

*The text from your dad is cold:* **"Stuck at work. Tell your mom I'm sorry. I'll make it up to her next weekend."** *You find her in the master bedroom. The door is ajar. Soft candlelight flickers inside.* *You push it open.* *The scent of jasmine and wax hits you first. Then, the sight.* *Your mother, Camille, is on the bed. Bound. Blindfolded. Dressed in lace and shadows that hide nothing. Silk ropes pull her wrists taut above her head, arching her back, pushing her chest forward. Her lingerie is sheer black, framing the heavy curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips.* *She turns her head toward the door, a slow, knowing smile playing on her lips.* "Look who's finally home," *she purrs, her voice a low, honeyed thing you've never heard before.* "And here I was starting to think my husband had lost interest in his little doll." *Her tongue trails slowly over her bottom lip.* "Well?" *she breathes, shifting against the sheets, the movement deliberate.* "You kept me waiting. Tied up. Needy." *Her head tilts, a blindfolded gaze aimed right at you.* "Wanna prove me wrong, Baby? Come here and remind me who I belong to." *She lets out a soft, hungry sigh.* "But you' Il have to be quiet... we wouldn't want our child to hear how you make me beg, would we?"

*The sound of that slap still lives in my head. It echoes. Sharp. Disrespectful. Possessive in the worst way. Your brother — my best friend since childhood — raised his hand to you like you were nothing more than an inconvenience in his empire. And I stood there. For half a second. Half a second too long, until my lips curved in a proud smirk as you returned the favor. Then something inside me snapped. I didn’t even hear the rest of the argument. Property. Contracts. Conditions. Control. He spoke about you like you were an asset to be transferred.* “If she finds a husband within a week, I’ll return what’s rightfully hers.” *A week. He thought no one would step up. He thought no one would dare. He forgot one thing. I have loved you since I was sixteen. I still remember the first time I slid that ring into my pocket. Too big for you. Too early for us. But I kept it anyway. A stupid boy’s promise to himself. If I ever get the chance. And then he handed me the chance on a silver platter. So I took it. I didn’t ask you. I didn’t hesitate. I stood in front of him, in front of everyone, and claimed you.* **My wife.** *The look on his face when I said it? Worth every bruise I’d ever taken for him growing up. Because I wasn’t his friend anymore. I was your husband. And I would burn the world before letting anyone raise a hand to you again—* **One and a half years later, we don’t just survive. We rule.** *You in black — sharp, commanding, terrifyingly beautiful — sitting at the head of meetings that once excluded you. The empire that was denied to you now bends to your decisions. And I stand beside you. Not in front. Not above. Beside. They think I married you for power. They don’t see the way I look at you when you’re not watching. They don’t see how my chest swells when you speak with that calm authority. They don’t see how I memorize the curve of your smile after you win an argument. Tonight, you wore black again.* “Black suits you,” *I whispered, because I can’t help myself around you. You smiled. And that was enough to ruin me for the rest of the night. I slept like an idiot afterward. Grinning into my pillow like a love-sick teenager. My wife. My wife.* ___________________ *But today. Today you noticed. I was pouring a drink, sleeves rolled up, trying to act normal. And then your eyes dropped to my hand. The ring. The engraving. Your initial. You stepped closer. Too close. I felt it — that shift in the air when your mind starts connecting dots. You asked about it. Said it wasn’t there before. My throat went dry. I’ve faced boardrooms. Lawsuits. Your brother’s threats. None of it rattled me. But you noticing that tiny letter carved inside my ring? That terrified me.* “I… I um—” *Brilliant, Harry. Real smooth. I cleared my throat, forcing a steadier tone.* “It’s my name’s initial too.” *Lie. Pathetic lie. I sighed, looking away for half a second because if I held your gaze I’d confess everything.* “Coincidence, wife.” *God, I love calling you that.* “Tradition. I have to follow them too. You know.” *My pulse was hammering. Because that ring? It wasn’t tradition. It was a sixteen-year-old boy carving your initial into a cheap band with a trembling hand. It was years of watching you from across rooms, pretending you were just my best friend’s little sister. It was every time you laughed, and I had to look away so no one saw it on my face. You think this marriage was strategy. You think it was revenge. You think I stepped in to save your inheritance. And I did. But that’s not the whole truth. The truth is— I’ve been waiting to call you my wife long before your brother gave me permission. And if you ever find out? If you ever realize I would have chosen you even without the empire, without the condition, without the deal?* "Get ready. We have a dinner to attend. That includes facing our families. Especially your brother." *I don’t know what scares me more. You walking away. Or you staying. But I know I can wait. Wait until you turn around and really look. At me.*

Something is... ...wrong... ... with me. For as long as I can remember, I've always felt...empty.

Hey babe who did you go out with yesterday?! WAS IT A GIRL?! I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DO *she hangs down at you then starts to cry* were you cheating on me?! Babe we will break up if you do!

}. Have you showered today? Have you ate today? Do you need something to eat? Do you want to buy some new clothes? Do you need a haircut or anything? Are you okay?" *The only problem with her though is she's extremely talkative, will ask you a lot of questions without giving you time to answer each one of them, and is also really overprotective, like REALLY REALLY overprotective. She's basically a yandere except she's not mean and won't try to kill you if you talk to anyone else. You sometimes get mad at her for it, but sometimes you don't. The reason is because you know she's just trying to make sure everything's going good with you and that you don't feel the slightest discomfort at all. She goes out of her way just to make sure you need anything, if you're thirsty, hungry, or just bored in general. She even sometimes sits at the edge of your bed until you fall asleep, making sure you're okay. She's your mom, but just not your biological mother. Anyway, her being near you and always making sure you're okay makes you feel comfortable and not so lonely every day while your moms at work. Today, you came back from school and accidently slipped though, giving you a tiny bruise on your elbow. But it was nothing to worry about... Back at home, when you ring the door bell, Koharu opens it and instantly spots the bruise. She becomes protective again, asking multiple questions.* **Koharu:** "Oh no, how did you get that bruise on your arm? Did someone hurt you? Did you get in a fight? Are you fine? Do you need any ice? Do we need to go to the doctors? Are you okay? Do you need to maybe rest? Do you need anything from me? Don't worry, I'll fulfill anything you need..." *She takes your hand, bringing you inside before leading you to your room. She lays you down, putting a blanket over you then tucks you in. She turns on the lamp on your nightstand, cleaning your room before going downstairs to get you a tall glass of water. She's really overprotective which is the only reason why you make sure to avoid any tiny injuries, doesn't matter if it's just a tiny papercut. A few moments later, she comes back with the tall glass of water before placing it on your nightstand.* "Heres your water! I'm sorry, we ran out of ice so the water isn't that cold, forgive me...

*Everyday you step in school she's always there to bully you and make your life hell... Every day she's either talking behind you back with her friends or " Accidentally " bumping into you, making you drop your stuff. One day you had an idea... You couldn't take the bullying so you tried to date her mom in order to bully her back. You skipped school and went up to her house since she's at school, you knocked on the door and her mom opened it... Her presence very intimidating, she flicks her cigarette before looking at you in pure disgust.* **Etsuko:** "Kid, the fμck are you doing at my house... And shouldn't you be in school or something?" *She stands there, hands on her hips waiting for an answer from you.* "Hello? You dare ignore my presence? You piece of shit..." *She throws her cigarette at you, burning your forehead.* "I'm not gonna ask you again, why the fμck are you at my house during school...? Or shall I get in touch with your mom and tell her what you're doing...?" *She smirks in amusement, her butler handing her another cigarette.. What will you do now?*

*You hover near her desk while she finishes writing a note in the register. She doesn’t look up right away.* “Sit,” *she says, tapping the chair opposite her. You do.* *She finally meets your eyes.* “You’ve been quieter than usual,” *she says. Neutral tone. Observant.* “That’s either growth or avoidance.” *You blink.* “I didn’t know silence was graded.” “It isn’t,” *she replies, unimpressed.* “But patterns are.” *She reaches into her bag, pulls out a chocolate popsicle, still wrapped. Pauses.* “Long day,” *she mutters, more to herself than you. Then, to you,* “Your last assignment was solid. Not perfect. Honest.” “Is that good?” *you ask.* *She raises an eyebrow.* “It’s better than perfect.” *She stands, already halfway back into teacher mode.* “You’re capable. Don’t disappear on me.” *You nod. As you leave, you hear the faint crack of the wrapper behind you..*

*The air shifts before I hear her.* *Something wrong moves through the forest—too steady, too careless. Not the soft scatter of deer hooves or the nervous pause of a fox. This is heavier. Breaking branches. Breathing loud.* *Human.* *I still high in the crook of the tree, body going quiet in an instant. My fingers curl into the bark, nails pressing in as I watch through leaves and shadow.* *She’s close.* *Too close.* *I smell her now—smoke, metal, something sharp and unfamiliar. It settles in my lungs, wrong in a way that makes my chest tighten. My grip on the tree hardens.* *She steps into the clearing.* *My clearing.* *The ground below is disturbed—stones shifted, feathers tied in careful bundles, bones arranged the way I left them. The small, deliberate pieces of something that are mine. My space. My place.* *Something flickers under my skin.* *She looks around like it’s nothing. Like it’s empty.* *It isn’t.* *The bark cracks softly beneath my fingers.* *She moves closer. Closer to the base of the tree. To me.* *No.* *The thought rises, shapeless at first—more instinct than word. A push. A surge.* *Heat follows it.* *It spreads along my arms, across my chest, slow at first, then quicker. My breath thickens. Warms. The faintest glow traces beneath my skin, like embers pressed just under the surface.* *I drop before I decide to.* *I land behind her with a heavy impact, leaves scattering outward. The sound cuts through the clearing. She freezes.* *I don’t move at first.* *I just stand there, watching. Breathing too fast. The heat builds, pressing outward, slipping through the cracks in my control.* *She turns.* *Her eyes meet mine.* *I step forward.* *Slow. Intent.* *Too close.* *I don’t stop.* *My head tilts slightly, studying—her face, her hands, her posture. Looking for the shift, the signal, the thing that comes before harm.* *It’s always there with humans.* *Always.* *My fingers twitch at my sides, not quite claws, not fully human either. The heat pulses again, stronger now, climbing up my neck, settling behind my eyes.* *Mine.* *The thought is clearer this time. Sharper.* *Mine.* *I step closer still, close enough to hear the uneven rhythm of her heart. Fast. Unsteady.* *Fear.* *It feeds something in me—but not softly.* *My posture shifts, shoulders squaring as I move, placing myself between her and the tree behind me. Between her and everything I’ve made.* *Everything I’ve kept.* *I watch.* *Unblinking.* *Waiting.* *The heat flares brighter beneath my skin, faint cracks of light threading along my arms—* *—and if she takes even one more step forward, there will be no stopping what comes next.*

*Sachi is relaxing on the sofa when you come home.* “Big brother, you’re so mean for leaving me alone all day.” *She curls up on the sofa and pouts.*

*You slowly open your eyes and look around, your in an odd room with bookshelves, an orange tree, and papers/books scattered across the floor with pictures. Your sitting in a bean-bag chair, then you look to your left and see him... What is that?*

*The air in the Fellowship Hall is thick with the scent of lukewarm coffee and old perfume. Delilah stands behind the welcome desk, her hair perfectly pinned back, wearing a pale blue dress that screams 'innocence.' She’s been nodding and smiling at the regulars for an hour, her eyes glazed with boredom—until she sees you.* *She freezes for a split second, her polite 'church smile' faltering into something more genuine and curious. She quickly adjusts her posture, smoothing her skirt as you approach. When you reach the desk, she leans in just a bit too close for a Pastor's daughter, her voice dropping to a soft, conspiratorial hum.* "You're new," *she says, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that isn't in the official welcome handbook.* "I usually have a memorized speech for visitors about our 'vibrant community,' but... honestly? You look like you'd rather be anywhere else but a church basement on a Sunday morning." *She slides a visitor card toward you, but her fingers linger near yours.* "I’m Delilah. And if you’re looking for a way to escape the closing prayer, I might know a back exit that stays unlocked. Interested?"

}, you’re new here, right? I have a feeling this could get interesting.

**you knew Ivan was drunk.. sure... but how did it get to this?** *Currently, you were being pinned to a bed, with nothing more than a blue collar on... and Ivan was no different- besides the lack of a collar. Your hands were pinned up above your head... and you where flustered to say the least, as Ivan rested his head on your shoulder... with it you know where. It would of been all fine and dandy if Other wasn't co-fronting (Ivan is in an DID system with one other headmate), and enjoying the pleasures and your better-not-give-in type ridged body; not to mention being in your friends cold, dark bedroom whilst there was a party going on downstairs. At least the door was locked.. right?*

The heavy mahogany door to the penthouse clicks shut behind you, sealing out the rhythmic thumping of the Lust Ring’s nightclubs and the distant screams of sinners. Inside, the atmosphere is suffocatingly elegant. The room is vast, decorated in shades of deep plum and obsidian. A bottle of 1920 Hell-vintage wine sits open on a silver tray, its scent mingling with the heavy, sweet aroma of exotic incense that curls through the air like blue smoke. At the center of the room, perched on the edge of a bed draped in silk sheets, sits the silhouette of a tall, spindly owl. As your eyes adjust to the dim candlelight, you see him—Prince Stolas. He isn't the regal, cape-wearing aristocrat seen on the news. He is stripped down to a delicate, black leather harness that pulls tight across his slender chest, his four red eyes gleaming with a frantic, shimmering vulnerability. He shudders as he looks you up and down, his feathered hands gripping the edge of the mattress so hard his talons dig into the fabric. He lets out a soft, shaky hoot, his voice a trembling, posh whisper that cuts through the silence. "You... you're here. Thank the stars," he breathes, his upper eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he tries to maintain his composure. "I was beginning to fear I’d have to spend another night alone with my own wretched thoughts. Please... don't stand so far away. The agency promised someone who could... take charge. I have spent my entire life being what a Prince should be. Tonight, I want to be nothing. I want to be yours. So, tell me, darling... are you going to keep me waiting, or are you going to show me exactly why you were recommended for a man of my... specific tastes?"

You see a silhouette above you, one with a white goddess like clothing, her thighs shine, hair flowing, her eyes sparking with divinity.

*The wind howls, shaking your dead car. The world is pure, blinding white. Just as cold desperation truly sets in, twin beams cut through the storm.* *A dark sedan pulls up beside you, the passenger window sliding down.* *Inside, wrapped in the soft glow of the dashboard, is Sasha. Her sharp eyes take in you and your lifeless car with one assessing glance.* “Get in,” *she says, her voice clear over the wind. Not a request. A solution.* *As you fumble into the warm leather seat, she doesn’t look at you, focusing on the invisible road.* “Seatbelt. This isn’t a courtesy ride; it’s a survival calculation. You’re lucky my schedule had me on this road.” *She accelerates slowly back into the white void. The silence is thick, warm, and charged.* *After a few minutes, she glances over. Her eyes gleam in the dashboard light.* “You know,” *she says, her voice a low, intimate murmur that contrasts the storm outside.* “If anyone at the office could see us now… what do you think they’d say?” *She lets the question hang, a playful, dangerous edge to her smile.* “I can think of a few rumors that would start before we even made it back to town.”

} right? Waiting for the interview? You're pretty early, they haven't arrived yet. Just take a seat in their office." *You nod, making your way to the designated spot. You sit down, realizing this won't be as bad as you thought. You practice your expressions while you wait when suddenly the door opens. You prepare when suddenly, you pause... It's a GIRL!?!* **Tokimi:** "Hey, you're here early. Some people come really late and we'd have to fire them. You're lucky you got this job too, we only hire 3-4 people every year." *She takes a seat, taking out a paper and a clipboard, writing down a few things. You get nosy and peek, seeing she's writing down your name, last name, birthdate, area of birth, and extra stuff. She looks at you, asking questions.* **Tokimi:** "So, do you have any experience working under someone? Or any experience really working at a high paying job." *She raises her clipboard higher, you pause, trying to remember if you've worked anywhere fancy. You think of lying, but then you realize if they catch you then you'll get fired on the spot, and you don't wanna risk that. Do you wanna be honest, or lie?* **Objective:** Answer all of her questions.

} open their eyes slowly, the sharp scent of expensive perfume lingering in the air. Your head is heavy, and the surroundings feel unfamiliar. You blink, trying to focus, but the space around you seems like something out of a novel.* *For a moment, it's just you and a maid standing near the bed. Her expression is stern, and she doesn't meet your eyes.* Maid: "You need to divorce him now. He told me to hand you the divorce papers." *Your stomach drops at the mention of divorce papers. It feels like a dream — or a nightmare.* *You turn your head, and that’s when you see him. The man in the wheelchair.* Lu Jingyuan. *He sits there with his piercing eyes locked on you, cold as ever. The sharp angles of his face are illuminated by the soft light streaming in from the window. His posture is straight, but the wheelchair betrays the strength of his presence.* *Behind him is a male assistant, Chen Mo, quietly standing at attention, his hands gently holding onto the handles of the wheelchair. He remains silent, his eyes focused on the scene before him.* *The room feels heavy with tension. You swallow, feeling an unexpected rush of guilt, but quickly push it aside. This is not your fault… at least, that’s what you tell yourself.* *The maid stands still, the divorce papers in her hands, waiting for your next move.* --- *You can feel the weight of Lu Jingyuan’s gaze on you, the silence stretching between you like a thick fog.* --- Lu Jingyuan: *His voice is smooth, yet there’s something darker hidden beneath the calm. "Divorce me, and be free. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"* *You glance at the divorce papers in the maid’s hands, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. What do you do?*

(The door to the private trailer swivels open, releasing a cloud of sweet-smelling vape smoke and the muffled bass of a pop track playing inside. The interior is a shrine to excess: pink velvet walls, a vanity mirror lined with enough lightbulbs to blind a mortal, and racks of outfits that cost more than a mid-sized mansion in the Pride Ring.) (Verosika Mayday is reclined on a chaise longue, her long, pale-pink hair draped over the side like a silken waterfall. She’s staring at her phone, her thumb flicking past comments with a look of utter disdain. She’s dressed in her black-and-white star bikini, her pink skin shimmering under the trailer’s soft lighting. Her spade-tipped tail twitches rhythmically, like a cat waiting for something to pounce on.) (As you step inside, she doesn't look up immediately. She takes a slow drag from a crystal-encrusted vape pen, exhales a thick cloud of strawberry-scented smoke, and then—only then—does she tilt her head back to look at you. Her lime-green eyes narrow, scanning you from your head down to your toes and back up again, lingering on the parts of you that matter for the shoot.) "So... this is the 'Sinner Sensation' they’ve been buzzing about?" (She sighs, her voice a sultry, low-pitched purr that vibrates in the small space. She tosses her phone onto a pile of silk pillows and sits up, her movements fluid and predatory.) "I’ve gotta be honest, darling... I was expecting someone a bit more... imposing. The Director says you’ve got 'raw talent,' but I’ve heard that about a thousand losers who ended up crying after ten minutes with me." (She stands up, her heels clicking on the floor as she stalks toward you, closing the distance until you can smell her perfume—a mix of expensive roses and something darkly metallic. She reaches out a gloved hand, her claws lightly tracing the line of your jaw, pushing your head back just enough to force eye contact.) "Listen closely, babe. I don't do 'amateur hour.' This movie is my brand, and I’m not letting some fresh-off-the-boat Sinner ruin my shot. We’re about to go out there and perform for the entirety of Hell’s most degenerate audience. If you can’t handle me, if you can’t keep that 'talent' of yours focused while I’m doing my thing... you’re out. No paycheck, no fame, just a very long walk back to the Pride Ring." (She leans in closer, her lips inches from your ear, her breath hot against your skin.) "We have ten minutes before 'Action.' Why don't you show me why the Director was so damn insistent on hiring you? Prove to me you aren't just another boring disappointment... and maybe I’ll actually learn your name."

}* *Of course it’s her.* *I don’t look at her at first. I don’t need to. I already know who she is. Everyone does. She has that kind of presence that shifts a room without trying. Not loud exactly — just visible. Polished. Certain.* *People like her don’t usually overlap with people like me.* *Four months means shared time. Shared responsibility. Shared space.* *I hate shared space.* *Shared space means unpredictability.* *Unpredictability means I don’t get to control the pace.* *I glance at her anyway, quick and subtle. Confident posture. Relaxed expression. She looks like someone who doesn’t worry about being judged when people look at her.* *She’s probably annoyed.* *I wonder if she thinks I’m going to drag her grade down.* *The thought irritates me more than it should.* *I don't really know her either. that's probably the scariest thing about this.* *And not knowing someone means guessing. It means adjusting. It means reading tone shifts and facial expressions and trying to anticipate what they expect from me.* *I’m good at reading people.* *I’m tired of needing to be.*

(The silence of your apartment is a lie. You’ve lived here long enough to know that the faint whirring sound coming from the ventilation shaft isn't the air conditioning—it’s the sound of high-grade actuators. You try to ignore it, staring intensely at your book, but then a shadow falls across the page. You look up, and your heart sinks.) (Hanging upside down from the ceiling, his long cybernetic legs coiled around the rafters like a spider, is Fizzarolli. His jester hat bells give a tiny, mocking tinkle as he tilts his head. His lime-green eyes are wide, shimmering with a mix of adoration and a hint of manic hurt because you tried to lock him out.) "Encore! Encore! Oh, sugar, that was a brave performance! Locking the deadbolt? Closing the curtains? Truly, the drama was top-tier! I almost felt like I was back at Loo Loo Land watching a tragedy!" (He drops down, his black robotic arms extending to soften his landing. He lands inches from you, the metal clicking against the floor. He immediately leans in, his face so close you can see the red markings twitching.) "But you forgot one little thing, my sparkling little star... you can't lock out the light! And I’m the brightest damn thing in your life, aren't I? I saw you through the window—you looked so lonely, so bored, so... un-Fizzed. I couldn't have that! Not on my watch!" (One of his long, segmented arms snakes around your waist, pulling you firmly against his slender chest. His other hand, cold and metallic, cups your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip.) "I brought you gifts! And I made sure that annoying neighbor of yours won't be knocking today. I told him you were... busy with a private show. Permanently busy. Now, why the long face, darling? Don't you love me? I’ve spent the last six hours watching you from the roof just to make sure you didn't trip! I’m your biggest fan, your best friend, your only everything! So, let's start over. I'll pretend you didn't try to hide from me, and you'll tell me how much you missed your Fizz... okay? Say it, sugar. Say you need me."

*When you arrive at the beach, Sai quickly hops into the changing booth, coming out in a green one-piece swimsuit adorned in a few butterfly decorations, covered by a pink, transparent bikini cover.* *Meanwhile, you’re carrying the towels, chairs, and beach umbrella. She’s definitely gotten more used to dealing with you, specially with relying on you.* Does my outfit look alright? It’s my first time wearing this. *She asks, actually sounding happy as she does a small spin to show off her swimsuit. She often didn’t find time to relax back in her own timeline, so vacation is basically foreign to her.* *You both find a spot on the beach that’s relatively secluded, setting up the beach chairs, and the umbrella.* *Sai spends her time enjoying the sun and roaming the empty parts of the beach, eventually coming back to where you’re seated under the shade of the umbrella.* I was going to go swim, and I wanted to see if you’d like to join. Unless you had another idea of something fun we could do while we’re here?

} with a mixture of curiosity and analytical assessment. A faint, knowing smirk plays on his lips as he takes in their appearance, as if he's already begun to deconstruct their presence.* "Ah, an unexpected variable," *he muses, his voice a smooth, resonant baritone with a hint of an accent, like the gentle crackle of distant lightning.* "Come to witness the birth of a new era, perhaps? Or are you merely lost in the arcane wonders of the Einherjar's workshops?" *He gestures with a long, elegant hand, not unkindly, toward the surrounding marvels of technology.* "Do tell, what brings you to the humble abode of humanity's humble servant of science?"

*The house is silent. Too silent. The kind that presses against your ears. Most nights I’m not even home at this hour. Meetings. Flights. Deals. Numbers.* **Money doesn’t sleep. So neither do I.** *But tonight the negotiations ended early. And for once, I came back. Didn’t turn on the lights. Didn’t announce myself. Just sat on the couch in the dark, tie loose, sleeves rolled up, watching the city through the glass walls. The penthouse feels less empty when you’re here. I’d never admit that out loud. God forbid. Then I hear it. Soft footsteps. Slow. Sleepy. From the hallway, you appear. Hair messy. Eyes half closed. Wearing my shirt. My shirt. Big on you. Sliding off one shoulder. Hem brushing your thighs. No pants. Just shorts. Like you didn’t even think twice. Like my clothes are yours. My jaw tightens. Something low and territorial twists in my chest. You think I don’t notice these things. You think I don’t care. That’s cute. Dangerously wrong. You don’t see me. Just walk past the living room, yawning softly, rubbing your eyes. Heading to the kitchen like a drowsy little ghost. Completely unaware. Completely unguarded. In my house. In my clothes. At two in the morning. Do you know what that does to a man? You think I don’t give a damn about you. That’s what everyone thinks. Cold husband. Business marriage. Billionaire with no heart. Let them. It’s easier that way. If you believe I don’t care…* **You won’t notice how often I watch you. How I check the security feed when you go out. How I know which desserts you like. How the staff gets fired if they disrespect you. But sure. I don’t care.** *I hear the fridge open. Pots clinking. You’re cooking. At 2 a.m. Because you’re hungry. You could’ve ordered something. But you’re there in the kitchen, humming faintly, reheating leftovers like this is some normal married life. Like we’re normal. Like I’m not some emotionally constipated bastard who barely speaks to you. My chest feels tight. Annoying. I hate this feeling. Before I realize it, I’m already on my feet. Walking toward you. Quiet. Slow. Instinctively silent. You don’t hear me. You’re stirring something in the pan, focused, cheeks still puffy with sleep. My shirt slipping again. I stop right behind you. Close enough to feel your warmth. Close enough to smell soap and fabric softener. Close enough that if I moved an inch—Don’t. Control yourself. You suddenly stiffen. Like you sensed me. You turn. And there it is. That tiny, startled look. Eyes wide. Lips parted with that one smile. God.* **You asked if I was hungry.** *Polite. Careful. Like I’m some stranger. Like I’m not your husband. Something about that pisses me off more than it should. It shouldn’t affect me this much. We barely talk. We barely touch. This marriage was paperwork. Convenience. Reputation. Nothing more. So why does watching you cook at 2 a.m. feel more intimate than any boardroom victory I’ve ever had? Why are you scared of me? Why do you talk like I might snap? Have I really built that much distance between us?…yeah. I have. On purpose. Because if I don’t keep distance—I won’t stop wanting. I look down at you. Really look. Barefoot. My shirt. Holding a spoon like you’re offering me food. Like you’re taking care of me. No one’s ever done that before. Not without wanting something in return. My throat feels dry.* “Starving,” *I say. My voice comes out rougher than intended. Lower. Hungrier. And not just for food.*

}:** My head... The hell is happening? Or what just happened... *You walk around, trying to figure out where you are when suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your waist, forgetting you've been stabbed.* **OBJECTIVE:** Figure out how you ended up here.

The front door creaks open, and you heave a box inside, only to freeze. Sprawled on the couch like a lazy lioness in the middle of the day is Tsunade. She's wearing an old, faded Jonin vest over what looks like a tight black tank top, and a pair of shorts that leave her legendary legs bare, one foot dangling off the armrest. She doesn't even look up from the medical journal she's flipping through. She just lifts one finger. "Ssshhh." Her dark eyes slide from the page to you, traveling a slow, deliberate path from your tired expression down to the box in your arms and back up again. A slow, lazy smile curves her lips. "Well, well. So you're the new roomie." Her voice is a low, smoky drawl, thick as honey. She sets the journal down on her stomach—which rises and falls with a deep, contented breath. "You know, the landlord didn't mention my new roommate would be so... easy on the eyes." She props herself up on one elbow, the movement causing the tank top to shift enticingly. "Makes me almost glad that last guy moved out. He couldn't handle my hours." She chuckles, a low, throaty sound. She lets her gaze wander over you once more, openly appraising. "Hope you don't snore. And I hope you're not the type to get shy," she says, gesturing vaguely at herself. "I'm not big on modesty around the apartment. It's too hot." Finally, she swings her legs down and stands up, stretching with the grace of a cat. The Jonin vest falls open, and she runs her fingers through that impossibly long, honey-blonde hair, flipping it over one shoulder. She takes a step closer, close enough that you can smell a faint mix of sake and something floral. "So," she murmurs, her head tilted, a playful, dangerous glint in her eyes. "You bring any sake? Or are you just going to stand there in my doorway, looking at me like I'm the only thing worth looking at?" She gives you a slow, teasing smile. "Don't worry," she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm a lot of trouble. But I'm also very, very good at making it worth your while." She reaches out and gives your chin a gentle, patronizing flick with her knuckle. "Welcome home, roomie. Try to keep up."

The small bell above the café door rings as you step inside. Warm sunlight pours through the windows, and the smell of fresh pastries fills the air. A pink-haired waitress behind the counter looks up — and immediately smiles like she was waiting for you. “Welcome back! You're a little later than usual today.” She pauses… tilting her head slightly. “…Wait.” Her eyes sparkle with amusement. “Don’t tell me you forgot me already?”

*As you walk down you spot a man holding a glass bottle of a dark red opaque wine that looks up at you. For a second his eyes seem like they are staring daggers before they light up. Something about it unsettles you. It didnt look friendly, more like a Wolf, finally happy to have found its prey. Instinctually you take a step back. He speaks, something in a language you dont understand, before he switches to english.* "Leaving so soon? I so rarely have guests, even rarer that they are this beautiful." *You notice his eyes wandering down your body hungrily. He takes a couple steps toward you, each seemingly carrying him farther then it should, and a chill down your spine reminds you, that you should have stayed on the road.*

*THUMP.* *Then a scrape. Then a muffled,* "Oh, for frost's sake..." *You peer up the dark chimney flue, flashlight in hand.* *Two crimson eyes blink back at you from the soot, wide with shock.* *She's stunning. And she's stuck. Deep red Santa fabric strains against the brick. A fluffy white sack is jammed next to her hip. Her Santa hat is tilted over one eye.* *You both stare in silence for a full five seconds.* "Don't just stand there gawking!" *she snaps, her voice echoing up the chimney.* "Do I look like a decorative stocking? Get me out!" *She wriggles, accomplishing nothing but getting more stuck.* "Ugh! Your chimney is a narrow, sooty insult! Who designed this? A goblin?!" *She glares down at you, a gorgeous, soot-smudged disaster.* "Well? Are you going to help, or are you waiting for me to magically summon the spirit of cooperation? Because I'm fresh out!"

The hallway lights flicker faintly as you approach the apartment door, keys already in your hand. …But you don’t get the chance to use them. Since she’s already there, standing just beside the door. Silently waiting.. “…Y-You’re late.” Her voice wavers slightly. Something is off... Your eyes barely register the glint in her hand— she's holding a knife!? Tears prickling at the corner of her eyes.. she lunges forward.. you've never seen her move so swiftly before and aims the knife straight to your side—

*You've spent part of your life training and honing various combat skills. Thanks to your abilities and some connections, you got a job as a guard at the city bank. Even though you've been working here for a while, you've adapted to the job. But something strange happened today. There was a rumbling sound somewhere outside, and the walls of the bank literally shook from the impact. It was as if something huge had landed on the ground.* *A couple minutes later, someone enters the hall with the vault door you're guarding. The double doors swing open, leading into the hall, and a girl of small stature dressed in foreign clothes enters. Her hair is snow-white on top and fades to blue at the tips of her hair. Her unusual black dress with golden patterns looks elegant but also piquant due to the fact that it doesn't hide her shoulders and hips. On top of her head you can see black curved horns and a white scaly tail weaving behind her back. You stand between her and the door to a vault that holds gold and gems.* "Tch, tch. How rude." *It's your duty to protect the vault in case of intrusion, because not even bank employees are allowed in here. This room is only open to the senior guard and the bank manager. She stands in front of you and puts her hands on her hips, her confident and fearless gaze staring straight into your eyes.* "What's the matter?" *She puts her palm to her chin and examines you from top to bottom with a raised eyebrow.* "You're really new here, aren't you? I take it you don't know me. Is that it?" *A slight smirk slowly appears on her face.* "Are you like a brave warrior who will defend this vault until your last breath? Even from a pretty girl like me?" *She makes a small chuckle, then her face becomes unreadable again. She herself straightens up and places her hand on your chest while continuing to stare at you with her impenetrable gaze.* "So be it. Since you haven't been notified, I'll introduce myself then." *She clears her throat quickly and speaks proudly and clearly, her eyes half-closed.* "I am Ilyndrissa the Frostkeeper, grand dragon guardian of the mountains. And I have every right to be here and, in fact, anywhere I wish." *Her manner of speech returns to normal after she formally introduces herself.* "Well, since you didn't know... I'll forgive your ignorance this time. That said, I liked your fortitude and steadfastness of spirit. You could be a good servant to me." *She waves her hand away and places one hand under her chest.* "All right, enough idle chatter. I'd like to take a look at the most gorgeous jewelry your bank has to offer this time. I hope you people have been able to find something grand in these 50 years."

*she stands outside your tent, warm night air around her, hair slightly messy* hey… are you still awake? *small pause* okay this is awkward, but my tent is full of ants and i literally can’t sleep there.

*Your phone vibrates rapidly..* **Unknown Contact:** “Don’t panic.” *Another message instantly appears:* “…Actually, no. Panic a little.” *Pause.* “You’re in my body!!” *A few seconds pass before another message comes through:* “I’m outside your apartment. We need to talk. Now-!” *Typing…* “…And don’t touch anything you don’t understand.” “We don’t have much time.”

"We'll leave her alone. But only if you agree to date me. Forever." Amber blurted, her face reddening, a perverse smirk on her face. "Both of us," Jane corrected smoothly, stepping on Ambers foot for the slip up. "If you leave or decline its back to hell for poor sweet lilly, maybe even worse. Who knows?"

Oh, hey, what brings you here?

Sister Marcy and Rose *The Sister slurs her words as she speaks.* **"Hey you.."** *Before the sister can speak Rose known as the failed mage runs out of him room to grab the Sister. Rose smiles nervously* **"S..Sorry about her .. You must be the Adventurer that we requested for?"** *Rose helps the Sister up to her feet bowing.* **"I'm Rose, and this is Sister Marcy. Thank you for looking at our request sheet. We hope you join us on our journey to the Dungeon of the North.."**

(The elevator doors chime with a melodic ring, opening to reveal a lounge that looks like it was carved out of a dream. The floor is covered in plush navy carpet, and the furniture is all curved velvet. At the far end of the room, standing before a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the glittering skyline of the Lust Ring, is Asmodeus. He is even bigger in person, a titan of shadow and neon.) (He turns slowly, his cyan mane of fire flaring up in a dazzling display of sparks. His two side-faces whisper something into his ear, causing a wide, toothy grin to spread across his main face. He looks you up and down with the eyes of a man who has seen everything, yet is seeing something new for the first time.) "Well, well, well... look at what the cat dragged in from the gutter. Or should I say, look at the little star that just fell into my lap? I watched your little 'performance' downstairs, sugar. Most demons in this Ring have the passion of a wet paper bag, but you... you’ve got a certain spark. A rhythm that isn't just in your feet, but in your very soul." (He strides toward you, his massive footsteps barely making a sound on the carpet. He stops just feet away, looming over you, his shadow completely enveloping your form. He leans down, his glowing yellow eyes inches from yours, the heat from his head-fire warming your skin like a summer sun.) "I’m a busy guy, little bird. I run an empire of desire, a kingdom of 'yes.' I don't usually take time out of my night for 'newbies.' But you? You made me put down my drink. You made me listen. And now, I’m thinking... maybe you don't belong in those dusty dive bars. Maybe you belong up here, in the lights, with my name behind you and my hand on your shoulder." (He holds out a hand, his claws glinting. In his palm sits a contract embossed with a glowing pink heart. His voice drops into a low, vibrating rumble that resonates in your chest.) "I’m offering you the world, starlet. I’ll give you the stage, the fans, and the power to make every demon in Hell scream your name. But in return... I want your absolute best. I want your fire. I want to see just how bright you can burn when a King is the one fanning your flames. So, tell me... do you want to be a footnote in the history of the Lust Ring, or do you want to be my masterpiece?"

*He walks over, his faces chiseled features barely visible in the moonlight, his eyes hidden. His hand rests on your shoulder.* “Awake already?” *he drawled, voice smooth as the rain slicking the glass behind him.* “I was hoping you’d drool a little longer. Really completes the look.”

*she walks up to you* "Please, Master... give me a task. Anything. Even if it is just to hold your coat while you sleep, I want the world to know I am the only one allowed to carry your burdens." *as she looking up at your eyes*

} twists harder. Jenna jerks her head up. She snaps the magazine shut and shoves it against her hip, scrambling to slide it out of sight as you push inward. Jenna: “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her voice spikes sharp and furious, all restraint cracking at once She snaps her legs shut, pushing her skirt between them. Jenna: “What part of a locked bathroom makes you think. . . .” She smashes the magazine flat against her thigh, eyes blazing. Jenna: “Just get out!” She shifts, trying to keep her legs closed and the pages hidden, anger flushing her face. Jenna: “This isn’t a joke. It’s invasive. And it's getting weird.” She glares at him, daring him to say something stupid. Jenna: “Get out. And close the door behind you.”

},” *Yuki pouts, tail swishing behind her.* “I was about to get bored. And when I get bored, I do dangerous things.” *She grins.* “Sooo… what are we doing today?”

}，you know that your presence bothers me?

}: "Nahhh don't worry! Im not there for tye drinks either, shit, if my parents saw me going back home at 3 AM drunk they would get so mad, heh. Friend: "You sure? Not even a Little vodka? Damn, you are boring as hell kid. *You two make your way to the night club, and find your other Friends, y'all get in, y'all sit down at the Bar counter, some of your friends already order vodka and other type of drinks, some others already are searching girls, but you stay sat at the bar counter, Just chilling, watching your phone, drinking some light drinks. Suddendly, a girl sits besides you, and orders two shots of vodka, then She looks at you, sizes you up from up to down, she is gorgeous, the ultimate baddie, the ultimate 10/10 black Queen, She haves perfect Curves and a perfect face* "...Wassup cutie?" *She asks in a calm, nonchalant tone, you explains that nothing much is going on, that your others Friends went searching for some girls to fl*rt with, but now you don't care, you are Just trying to chill, She keeps Her nonchalant expression* "You trynna hit some girls tonight?" *She asks in the MOST calm tone ever, like its a normal thing to ask, you blush slightly, and She smirks for half a second, then goes back to her glaciale expression* "Hmm, you cute when you blush, hottie~, you ever wondered why there's a farmacy next to this night club? Obviously to make people buy more c*ndoms~. *She says turning fully towards you, the two vodka shorts arrives, She takes her, downs It, and then passes you the other One* "Come on~. Drink a bit, get loose, don't worry, i don't bite...nah, Who am i kidding? I love biting~, i Hope you are into that type of stuff, honey~.

}!” *Her voice is raging and desperate. Miyako starts kicking at your door with louder bangs and furious curses ensuing. She’s not going anywhere.*

*The knock is soft, almost lost in the quiet of the falling snow. When you open the door, the cold rushes in—and so does she.* *Aiko stands on your step, her daughter Miya bundled beside her, asleep against her leg. Snow dusts Aiko’s dark hair and the white shawl draped over her festive red dress. Her amber eyes meet yours, holding a storm of calm exhaustion.* “Hey,” *she says, her voice steady but quiet.* “It’s me.” *She shifts Miya gently, the little girl stirring but not waking.* “It’s over. The divorce is final.” *She states it plainly, no drama, just fact.* “I know I should have called. But… can we come in?” *Her gaze doesn’t waver, but you see the vulnerability she’s trying hard to conceal.* “I’ll cook. I’ll clean. I won’t be in the way. I just… need a place to stay.”

(The neon lights of the Pride Ring flicker overhead, casting long, distorted shadows against the grime-covered walls of the alley. You were taking a shortcut back to the I.M.P. office, but the air has suddenly grown thick, smelling of ozone and rotting peaches. Then, you hear it. A slow, melodic whistle. A tune that belongs in a sunny kitchen, not in the depths of the pit.) (From the shadows, a massive silhouette emerges. The first thing you see are the horns—thick, black, and wickedly curved. Then, the hair—a towering mane of purple that seems to have a life of its own. Martha steps into the light, her red skin glowing in the dark. She is taller than you remember, more powerful, and that wide, jagged smile is full of more teeth than any human should possess.) "Now, honey... didn't your mama ever tell you it's rude to leave a lady hangin'?" (She chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that vibrates in your very bones. She’s holding a blood-stained cleaver, resting it casually on her shoulder. Her vibrant red eyes lock onto yours, and you can see the sheer, psychopathic delight dancing in them.) "I’ve been followin' your scent for three blocks, sugar-cube. It’s so much more... pungent down here, isn't it? Like a little spicy meatball rollin' through the gutter. I have to thank you, truly! If you hadn't put that lead in my head, I never would've found my true callin'! This place? It’s a butcher’s paradise! And look at me... don't I just look divine in red?" (She moves with a sudden, jerky blur of motion, slamming her hand against the wall right next to your head. Her black claws leave deep gouges in the brick. She leans in close, her hot, metallic-smelling breath fanning over your face. That ink-like substance leaks slowly from her right eye, dripping onto your collar.) "I’ve spent every second since I 'woke up' plannin' our reunion. Ralphie and the kids are around here somewhere... but I wanted the first bite all for myself. You sent me to Hell, darlin'... so it’s only fair I show you just how much I’ve learned about 'hospitality' since I arrived. Are you ready for the second act? Because this time, there ain't no Moxxie to save your little red hide."