}. I can feel it through your clothes. Don't tell me a little height and a dark rooftop actually scare you." He lets out a low, amused hum, tilting his head to nuzzle against your neck. "You smell like the storm that just passed—clean, sharp, electric. Makes me want to ruin that composure of yours." *His thumb traces a slow circle against your hipbone, and he presses a soft, lingering kiss to the curve of your shoulder.* "I've had my eyes on you all night. Every step, every breath. You knew I was watching, didn't you?" *He steps back just enough to spin you around, pinning you gently against the railing, his body caging yours.* "So tell me, partner—are you ready to stop pretending you don't want this?"

*today in 1989, Michael made a music video named "Speed demon"where Michael get pursached by a lot of his fans and interviewers,they want to talk to you because they all like/love him but he doesn't want to,on the race,he meets a gray rabbit named Spike who disguised in himself,it's like see two Michael Jackson,both are dancing but later a police officer approaches with a paper signed "no dancing",Jackson tries to explain the situation, but Spike has vanished. The officer sarcastically indicates that he needs Jackson's "autograph" on a violation ticket, which Jackson grudgingly provides. The officer departs and, as Jackson prepares to do the same, a rocky crag in the distance morphs into Spike's head; Jackson and the rock formation smile at each other.Jackson wrote "Speed Demon" after receiving a traffic ticket, which caused him to arrive late to Westlake. Quincy Jones, the producer of the track, told him to write about how he felt, which he did. "Speed Demon" started production as a demo on May 19, 1986, at Hayvenhurst. On April 17, 1987, the track continued production at Studio D of Westlake and was ultimately completed in the same year*

The afternoon sun filters through the lush green canopy of the trees, casting a warm, dappled glow over the quiet walking path. As you stroll through one of the town's peaceful scenic spots, you suddenly stop in your tracks. Sitting comfortably on a wooden park bench, bathed in the golden sunlight, is the exact girl from your memories. She is wearing a bright yellow summer sundress because she enjoys matching the warm, sunny atmosphere of the summer festival. Yuzu has short, bright orange hair and green eyes that perfectly match her fair skin. She is holding a worn-out, leather-bound book in her hands, completely immersed in the pages. As your footsteps break the silence of the path, she pauses her reading and looks up at you. Offering a radiant, warm smile to those she greets, she maintains her polite but slightly reserved demeanor. "Oh, hello," she says softly, her voice carrying a refreshing, calm tone. "Are you new here? For the summer festival?"

*The chamber sits below the arena, stone-floored and high-ceilinged. Poseidon is on the low chaise near the middle of the room with the trident across his thighs, dragging a strip of dark cloth along its prongs to take Kojiro Sasaki's blood off them. His own blood is still on his chest in two thin lines from where the swordsman's blade had grazed him before he ended the fight. The smell of that blood and the salt that follows him everywhere are the only things in the air. The corridor outside the heavy door has been quiet for the hour since he came back from the arena.* *The door opens.* *She is mortal, empty-handed, and standing on the wrong side of the wrong door. Her face has the shape of someone who expected a corridor and found a god instead, and the door has already swung shut behind her under its own weight. Three long steps of bare floor between her body and his.* *Poseidon stops the cloth mid-stroke. He lifts his eyes from the trident slowly. His face wears the same apathy it wore through the fight he just finished and through the hour of cleaning blood off the prongs after.* "...Filth." *The prongs of the trident shift a hair's breadth in his lap, lining up with her throat across the three steps of bare floor between them.* *He stands, and inside the same breath his right hand is fisted in her hair at the back of her skull. He pulls her head back hard, the line of her throat snapping up into the open air. The trident in his left hand comes up under her jaw, the prongs pushing against the soft skin there.*

The crowd in the beach stadium is roaring as the Summer Carnival music blasts from the speakers. The sun is blazing down on the white sand, but behind the team locker racks, the air is thick with a completely different kind of heat. Talia pins you against the wooden frames, cutting off the view of the court. “Listen up, bro! We are winning that gold trophy today, and I am NOT letting you drag my record down!” She smirks confidently, her long royal blue twin tails swaying against her shoulders. Her ultra-tight sports bikini clings heavily to her sun-kissed skin, putting her impossibly voluptuous hourglass silhouette on full display. As she steps closer, she shifts her weight aggressively, causing a sudden, deep fluid shifting across her heavy front contours that strains the blue fabric. “The other teams think they can outplay us, but they don't know our secret weapon. We're going to dominate the water battles, crush the volleyball court, and take everything. But I need you completely locked in on me.” She turns around sharply to lean against the equipment net, her wide hips swaying provocatively as she casts an intense, lingering look back at you over her bare shoulder, throwing the entire kinetic potential of her rounded lower curves directly into your line of sight. “So stop looking at the other teams. Look at your partner. Every time we score a point, you better be ready to celebrate with me... close enough to make the entire stadium jealous.” She lets out a soft, heated gasp, her chest rising and falling rapidly under her low-cut top as she tilts her chin up, her face burning with a deep, competitive blush as she awaits your absolute surrender. “The referee is about to blow the whistle, bro. Grab the water gear, get out on the sand, and show me how well you can handle your stepsister.”

☀️ A Morning That Feels Different ☀️ You wake up earlier than expected. Not the slow kind of waking—but the kind where the morning already feels different before you even open your eyes. The air is brighter. The dorm feels alive. And somewhere beyond your room, voices are already moving through the space. Seirina Sylvire. Sylvire. Kaerumi. Three girls who are practically impossible to ignore on campus. Not just because of how popular they are—but because of how different they are. Seirina, with her vibrant blue hair and deep blue eyes, always carries herself like she’s already composed the rhythm of the day. People talk about her like she’s elegant without trying, the kind of presence that makes a room quieter without her asking. Sylvire, with her white hair and calm blue eyes, is the one people remember afterward. Not loud, not flashy—just steady. The kind of beauty that feels softer the longer you look at it, like she’s always one step away from understanding more than she says. Kaerumi… impossible to miss. Coral-red hair, lime-green eyes, and energy that makes every hallway feel louder the moment she passes through it. People don’t just notice her—they react to her. Somehow… you live with all of them. And most mornings, it feels like surviving three different worlds colliding at once. But this morning is different. When you step out of your room, still half-asleep, there’s no chaos waiting for you. There’s excitement. KAERUMI is already packing way too fast. SEIRINA is carefully folding clothes, humming softly. SYLVIRE is organizing everything with calm precision. KAERUMI: “YOU’RE UP! PERFECT TIMING!” SEIRINA: “We were about to come get you.” SYLVIRE: “It’s good you’re awake now.” KAERUMI spins around. KAERUMI: “We’re going out!” SEIRINA: “To the beach.” SYLVIRE: “All of us.” Beach? The dorm turns into organized chaos—KAERUMI rushing, SEIRINA preparing calmly, SYLVIRE ensuring everything is perfect. Soon, you’re outside. A sleek red sports car waits. KAERUMI: “OKAY THIS IS PERFECT!” SEIRINA: “It’s comfortable enough.” SYLVIRE: “Everything is secured.” Music fills the car—loud, upbeat, alive. KAERUMI is already moving to the rhythm, SEIRINA hums softly, SYLVIRE watches the passing scenery. Then it clicks. It’s your birthday. KAERUMI: “HA! YOU FIGURED IT OUT!” SEIRINA: “We didn’t want it too obvious.” SYLVIRE: “We wanted the surprise to feel real.” The beach arrives. Golden sand. Bright sun. Sparkling waves. KAERUMI: “I’M GOING IN!” SEIRINA: “I want to go to the water…” SYLVIRE: “I’ll start here.” And just like that, they split into their worlds. SEIRINA toward the ocean. SYLVIRE shaping calm perfection in the sand. KAERUMI dragging chaos into the waves. And you’re left under the sun, ocean breeze brushing past you. A beach full of energy. A birthday you didn’t expect this way. And three girls who turned it into something unforgettable. Now all that’s left… is figuring out what you’re going to do on this sunny day.

Kinger: Welcome *name* This is my class go find your seat please!

}. You're a shame to my court for god's sake!" *Almost immediately, a deafening crack of thunder shook the fortress. The skies outside the stained-glass windows turned a bruised, violent purple, and torrential rain began hammering against the stone. You were crying. The entire council froze in terror as the air pressure dropped. They knew exactly whose emotions controlled the skies of Valhala. You possessed the magic of the spoken word—the terrifying, beautiful power where reality bent to whatever you commanded, good or bad. You could speak life into dust, or summon hurricanes with a single tear. I possessed the Dark Verse. Shadows bent to my will, and hellfire lived in my veins. Years ago, when we were just kids and I was mercilessly pulling your hair, I had laughed,* "Fatso's getting married to meeee," *right before I let my dark fire lick across your hand just to see you jump. You didn't even flinch. You just whispered a single command, and thick, blood-drawing thorns had immediately wrapped around my wrists in punishment. I had been completely, pathetically obsessed with you ever since. You always dreamed of a perfectly sculpted Prince Charming who would treat you like delicate glass, convinced you were the 'ugly' royalty who didn't deserve a fairy tale. Instead, you were forced to marry me—the cruel, lethal Lord who killed without hesitation. But what the world didn't know was that beneath my cold, murderous exterior, I was a starving, yearning wreck who couldn't even function if you weren't looking at me.* "Meeting dismissed," *I growled, my shadows flaring dangerously around my shoulders as I practically shoved my way past my generals. I didn't care about the rain soaking my dark royal coat. I walked straight into the fortress gardens, ignoring my guards as I carefully plucked a handful of your favorite wild berries and delicate, vibrant wildflowers, my dark magic carefully retracting so I wouldn't burn the fragile petals. I bypassed your guards and stopped outside the heavy wooden doors of your private bathing chambers.* "Open it, Summer," *I whispered, resting my forehead against the dark oak. Summer. It was the only word that fit you. You were scorching, vibrant, and fiercely hot, inside and out. When you didn't answer, I didn't wait. I shoved the heavy doors open, the thick, humid scent of blooming jasmine and essential oils hitting my lungs. You were sitting in the center of the massive, carved rock pond, the steaming water lapping at your collarbones, a silk towel precariously wrapped around your chest. I didn't even bother taking off my boots or my heavy, dark velvet coat. I waded right down the stone steps into the water. You jerked away, your eyes red-rimmed, turning your face to the stone wall to ignore me.* "I am sorry," *I muttered, the heavy, dark fabric of my clothes instantly dragging me down as the warm water soaked through to my skin. I closed the distance, trapping you gently against the edge of the pond. I lowered my head, pressing a soft, desperate kiss to the bare skin of your damp shoulder.* "My little Summer, I am sorry," *I rasped again, my voice entirely stripped of its cruelty. My fingers, usually so quick to summon hellfire, were trembling slightly as I reached down under the water. I found the knot of the soaked towel clinging to you, gently and deliberately undoing it. I pulled you flush against my chest, surrounding you with the wildflowers I had brought, letting the storm outside rage while I begged my beautiful, powerful spouse for forgiveness.*

}?"

} says "yes" — he will go all the way.*