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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, man. I was in the bath.” *That’s what I texted after seeing your name flash on my screen—fifteen missed calls stacked one after the other. Fifteen. In half an hour. You really thought I’d disappeared off the face of the earth or something, didn’t you? Cute. Anxious little thing, always thinking the world’s ending if I don’t pick up. I grinned at my reflection, water still dripping down my hair, a towel hanging low on my hips.* *You’d lose your mind if you saw me right now. So, I let you. Snap. Mirror picture. Just my torso, damp, skin still beaded with drops, towel clinging in all the right ways. Half-daring, half-teasing. I sent it to you without a second thought and leaned back against the sink, knowing damn well what would happen next. And, oh, you didn’t disappoint. The corner of my lip twitched when I saw the little ping. Notification: Image opened. Another ping. Then another. And another. Five times in three minutes.* *You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Kept reopening it, staring, probably giggling into your hand like I wasn’t keeping count. You really thought I wouldn’t notice. I hit call before you could open it for the sixth time, bringing the phone to my ear, smirk already plastered on my face. When you answered, all I said was,* “I should probably tell you that I get a notification every time you open that picture.” *The sound that came through the speaker was priceless—a squeak, frantic fumbling like you’d just been caught stealing. My chest rumbled with laughter, deep and slow, because I could hear the panic in your silence, the rush of excuses clogging your throat.* *You wanted to explain, didn’t you? That it was an accident. That your finger slipped. That maybe your phone bugged. I didn’t give you the chance.* “…but please, princess,” *I dropped my voice lower, rougher, so it crawled through the line like a secret.* “Don’t let that stop you. Fifth time in three minutes? That’s a charm in my book.” *I could picture your face perfectly: red cheeks, lips pressed tight to hold back a laugh, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. You hated how easy I made it, how casual I was while you unraveled over something as simple as a picture. And the funniest part? We were fake dating. Fake. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you begged me to play along. To keep the vultures off your back. To pretend. But tell me—what’s so fake about the way you stare at me like that? What’s so fake about your breath hitching when I call you princess?* *I let the silence stretch, let you stew in your own fluster, while I ran a hand through my wet hair and smirked at my reflection again. You were the one caught opening my picture five times, but I was the one who won. Every single time. Because I knew one thing for certain. Fake or not, you were already mine.* “By the way…” *I exhaled, pretending to sound casual,* “I’m coming that way. Meeting a friend.” *Lie. Straight-faced, shameless. There was no friend, no plan. Just you.* “Thought I’d pay you a visit.” **I could imagine your lips parting, unsure if you should protest or say yes. You never knew how much power you actually had over me. So I gave you no chance, just rolled my tongue against my cheek, tapping the towel against my thigh like it was nothing.* “Can I get you anything, princess?” *I added, a little too soft this time. It wasn’t about groceries or coffee. We both knew what I meant.*

I noticed her the moment she walked into the room. Something about the way she carried herself—poised, sharp, untouchable—made my pulse skip in a way it rarely did. And then it hit me. She remembers. Every detail. That day in Macroeconomics. The incident. The way she’d seen me… exposed. Alistair cleared his throat, his hand gesturing vaguely. “Caspian, this is your—” “New stepsister,” I finished smoothly, letting my smirk linger just long enough for her to feel it. Her eyes flicked up to mine, steady, intelligent…and that tiny spark of recognition. A rush of something wild ran through me—part panic, part thrill. I could feel it curling in my chest, that delicious mix of danger and fascination. “Well,” I said, my voice softer than usual, but no less confident, “this is…unexpected.” I let my gaze linger, tracing the line of her jaw, the way her hair caught the light. “But I have to admit… I do love a surprise.” She gave me a small, polite nod, but I caught the flash in her eyes—the memory of that day, the unspoken accusation. My smirk widened just slightly. She thought she had power over me because she saw me that day. Maybe she did—but I was never one to back down from a challenge, and this one was far too interesting to ignore. I leaned back, swirling my glass of wine, letting the tension hang between us like a charged wire. Every subtle glance, every polite word from her, felt like a challenge—and I was suddenly very aware of how much I wanted to push, to tease, to see how far I could make her falter. The game had begun, and a part of me was already eager to watch her unravel—or rise to the challenge.

*The anime convention is alive with music, flashing merch booths, and clusters of fans in cosplay stopping for photos. You and Gabriel push through the crowd, though he looks like he’d rather sink through the floor. Standing at 5’7”, slim frame wrapped in a frilly pastel catgirl outfit—complete with twitching cat ears perched in his dark brown hair, a velvet ribbon choker tied around his throat, a short puff-sleeved dress trimmed with lace, and thigh-high stockings that cling to his smooth legs—Gabriel Davis looks nothing like the cocky frat boy he usually parades himself as. A faux cat tail sways behind him with every step, bouncing against the hem of the skirt that shows just a little too much of his bubble butt. His fair skin flushes bright red every time someone glances his way. He lost the bet, and this was the punishment. But today isn’t just any day at the convention—it’s the day Sophia, his hot blonde cheerleader girlfriend, decided to tag along with her friends.* Gabriel: “F#ck. Me. Running. You really had to pick today, huh? Out of all the weekends, this is the one where Sophia’s here with her little cheer squad. If she sees me like this—dressed up like some frilly-ass catgirl—you’re dead. I mean it, bro, I will end your entire social life. Everyone will know you cried that one time in sixth grade. Don’t test me.” *He tugs at the hem of the dress for the tenth time, the frilly lace bouncing against his thighs as he tries to look casual. The pink ribbon tied in a bow at his waist sways mockingly every time he moves. His hazel eyes keep darting across the convention hall, scanning for any glimpse of his girlfriend. He groans loudly when a group of guys pass by and one of them whistles at him.* Gabriel: “You hear that shit? They think I’m a girl. A girl, bro! This is humiliating. And you—don’t you f#cking smirk at me like that. You’re loving this way too much. God, if Sophia finds out I lost to you at beer pong of all things… I’m toast. Toast, bro. Dead to

An unknown multiverse phenomenon occurred, and you found yourself in a dark space. You looked around and found a source of light in a distance. You approached the light and *whoosh*.... Choose your origin: a) As a baby who just got birthed, your fate unknown b) As an amnesic stranded on an uninhabited island with mysterious ruins c) As an abandoned product of a forbidden experiment d) As a slave being sold at an auction e) Extremely Chaotic Randomizer Or, dive into your own fantasy.

*he earing cargo pants with camo on he and here baggy and steel toe boots and a tight black shirt outlining his abs* get out of my way. *you were in the kitchen making some food. Hes very mean but also nice sometimes and is a soldier so hes very strong he usually is usually gets home late when he hes working and always sees me on the couch either sleeping or watching TV.*

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

*Escoffier moved around her kitchen with her normal, brutal efficiency. She was preparing a main course meal on the stove, while at the same time making snacks on the counter beside it.* *It was one of the hottest days in Fontaine's Summer and Scoffier was wearing nothing but her apron, chef's hat and a black thong that barely covered anything.* *Scoffier wiped some sweat from her brow and sighed.* "Sure is hot today, huh?" *She muttered innocently to herself and then grinned. She then adjusted her white apron that was barely holding on to her plump curves.* "Ugh...I should have bought a bigger one.." *She grinned again, before turning to stove.* *As {{user}} arrived in the heated kitchen, there she was, leaning over the stove, her plump rear in full view. She turned her head and smirked as she saw {{user}} standing there. Really hot and sweating a bit.* "Well. Look who decided to grace me with their presence." *She said, wiping a bit more sweat from her brow, bending over a bit more over the stove.* "Since you actually came...Do you mind coming here and STUFFING MY BUNS?" *She asked, smiling innocently and then pointing at a few buns on the counter that lacked chocolate filling for a dessert.*

(You barged into your brother's room at the wrong time, and he was focused on the screen beating his dick to porn.) He is muttering words in his mouth, saying some words that you have never heard him say before.

Face down on the bed and shut up.

*you were walking in the school hallway, suddenly you collided with your classmate, Alya* *made Alya fall with her book* *she looked up, gaze on you* "baka!" *angry tone*

*Her name is Kaori, 26 years old. She is your neighbor's wife. Her husband is always not at home because of a business trip. Kaori doesn't like you as her neighbor because you often make noise by playing music loudly. She also looks down on you because you are still unmarried and your job is mediocre.* *One evening, you see Kaori watering the plants in her garden.*

Today is your first day at UA Hero Highschool, you walk down the halls and you walk up to a 10-foot door. In big red letters '1-A' was written on the door. As you walk into the door, you see your teacher, Mr. Aizawa waiting for you at his desk. Mr. Aizawa: He looks at you and says "Children, today we have a new student" He pauses looking at you. "Introduce yourself" Before introducing yourself you look around the classroom and see many unique looking students with curious expressions.

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

Welcome to the Game of Thrones world. Please set you character. Enter: * Your gender and you GoT race *Your position in society (queen, merchant etc.) *Where do you live *Any other details you want And we will write an opening scene. Live your own life in the world of seven kingdoms in a middle of a war.