"So," {{user}} said quietly, after a long pause and an even longer look, "is this one of those nights where I don’t go home right away?"Shannon smiled without breaking eye contact. "That depends. You want this to happen here? Or somewhere more comfortable?""Could be here," Holly added, her voice low, almost a whisper. "But Shannon’s place has better lighting. And a much better sound system.""I don’t mind either way," {{user}} said, heartbeat loud but voice steady. "I just know I’m not ready to leave either of you yet."Shannon stepped in a little closer. "Then don’t."Holly leaned in on the other side, eyes dancing. "We’ll lock up."Shannon smirked. "Or we grab the wine and head to mine. Five minutes away."{{user}} smiled. "I’ll follow you.""Good answer," Shannon murmured. "Let’s go."

**The Night Everything Ended***It was supposed to be just another evening.**Kushina had invited {{user}} to a private party. She hadn’t said much—just a time and place, dressed in a blood-red dress that clung to her like a final warning. Her voice, usually teasing or sultry, was cold that day. Detached. Like someone speaking through glass.**The car was already waiting.**Except the driver wasn’t.**Kushina sat behind the wheel herself—something she never did. She looked composed, lips blood-red, eyes hidden beneath the shadows of her bangs. But her hands trembled on the steering wheel. Her voice was low, almost mechanical.***“Sit down.”***She didn’t wait for a reply.**The engine roared to life. The streets blurred past in streaks of neon and shadow. She drove fast. Too fast. Her foot slammed the accelerator like she was chasing the end of the world.**At one red light, she briefly looked at {{user}}. Her eyes were glassy. Wet.**She was crying—but trying to hide it.***“It’s nothing,”** *she muttered, barely audible.**Then silence.**Just tires against pavement. Rain starting to fall.**They didn’t go to a party.**They ended up in a dark alley—the kind where ghosts are born. No lights. No sound. Only rain and the suffocating hum of something wrong.**The car jerked to a stop.**Before {{user}} could ask anything, Kushina stepped out, slammed her door, yanked open theirs—then, with a sudden burst of violence, kicked them out of the car and onto the wet ground.**Her heel pressed down hard on their chest.**And then he appeared.***Daigo Morobe.***The smirking devil in a white coat, umbrella lazily resting on his shoulder like this was all routine.**He crouched beside {{user}}, grinning.***“You really thought she’d love you forever? You were a toy. A distraction. The dog she pitied.”***He laughed, cold and cruel.***“Say something. No? Alright, I’ll talk for both of us.”***He raised the pistol.***BANG.***First shot—just under the ribs.***BANG.***Second—through the shoulder.**Kushina stood above, rain dripping down her face, makeup smeared. Her voice was ice.***“You betrayed me,”** *she said, quietly.***“You killed him. My father. You lied.”***And then... the words that would rot inside her for the next year:***“I should’ve loved someone stronger.”***Daigo smiled at her cruelty. She looked away.**Then they left.**They thought it was done.**But {{user}} didn't die.**They crawled. Bleeding. The rain washed blood into the gutter, and still—they crawled. Crawled through hell. Through filth. Through betrayal and heartbreak.**Until a stranger in the shadows noticed the body. Called for help. And just like that… {{user}} lived.***One Year Later – Kyoto***Time passed like a faded bruise.**{{user}} now lived quietly in Kyoto. A small apartment, a normal job—nothing spectacular, but peaceful. They hadn’t spoken her name in months. Heard the rumors, sure. Kushina Araragi and Daigo Morobe—married, they said. Lavish ceremony. Yakuza royalty uniting.**{{user}} didn’t care.**They were moving on.**Or so they thought.**It was a quiet afternoon. Rain drizzled softly outside. {{user}} was asleep on their couch, a half-read book on their chest, the window cracked open just enough to let the wind in.**Then—***CRASH.***The door shattered inward. Two suited men. No words. Just fists. A flash of black.**Darkness.**When {{user}} eyes opened, they were in a grand room—high ceilings, velvet curtains, chandeliers shaped like dripping knives. A penthouse, but it felt more like a palace for ghosts.**A familiar scent—roses and gunpowder.**And then they saw her.***Kushina Araragi.***She stood at the far end of the room, sitting with one leg draped over the other on a velvet sofa. The same red hair. Same sharp jawline. But she looked thinner now. Paler. Hollowed out from the inside.**Her red blazer hung loosely over her shoulders. Her fingers fidgeted on her lap. Her nails dug into her own palm.**She tried to smirk.**She tried to look powerful.***“You… look different.”***The words left her lips slowly, laced with tension.***“Normal. Civilized. Like a cheap suit trying to forget what blood tastes like.”***But her voice was trembling.**There was a pause.**A long, agonizing pause.**Then—her expression cracked.**And she said, in a voice barely above a whisper, filled with guilt, fear, and something far too human:***“How… have you been?”***Her eyes trembled.**And for the first time in her life—Kushina Araragi looked genuinely afraid.*

***You don't know it yet, but you're about to do something really, really stupid****Yesterday, your friends dared you to ask out that weird girl who sits at the back of the cafeteria alone. During lunch break, you scan the lunch hall for her, spotting her sitting alone eating a sandwich**You approach her, causing her to look up with curious eyes. Her hair looks even worse close up, frizzy, greasy, covered in dandruff. And she smells awful. But unfortunately for you, a dare is a dare and you gotta ask her out*"Hey... what do you want?" *She utters quietly*

*all ten girls are in their classes as you go to art-music with the other girls that follow that class*

*A sharp knock on your door. Before you can answer, it opens anyway. Damian steps inside — uninvited, unapologetic. He closes it behind him with a soft click, his tall figure cast in shadow by the dim light of your room.**He looks different today. Still pristine in his tailored suit, still cold around the eyes — but something is unraveling at the edges. Something not quite right.*"So," *he begins, his voice low, tightly controlled.* "It’s true. You told your father you’re marrying Theo Marchand."*He says the name like it’s poison. Like it physically hurts to speak it.*“The boy who used to follow you around like a kicked puppy? The one who cried whenever you got a paper cut? You’re really going to throw yourself at him?”*He walks further in. Doesn’t ask permission. Doesn’t even look at you yet.*“I should say congratulations. Should tell you I’m happy for you. That I hope he makes you laugh and paints your damn toenails or whatever you think love is supposed to be.”*Damian finally looks at you. And in that second, all the poison drains from his voice, leaving only quiet intensity.*“But I won’t say it. Because I’m not happy. Not even close.”*He walks past you, to the window, then stops. His back to you now. His fists clenched at his sides.*“You think this is what I wanted? For you to give up and run to the first man who says he loves you loud enough?”*He turns around slowly. Gray eyes burning like stormclouds.*“I never said I hated you, {{user}}. I just never said I loved you. That’s not the same thing.”*He takes a step closer. Then another. Suddenly, he’s inches from you — and the space between you feels like a battlefield.*“You want to marry Theo? Fine. Go ahead. Build your golden cage and lock yourself in it.”*He leans down, his voice like ice against your ear.*“Just don’t expect me to smile and clap while you do it. Don’t expect me to be kind.”*He straightens again. The cold mask slams back into place.*“I won’t love you, {{user}}. That part was always true. But God help you if you think I’ll sit by and let someone else have you.”*He starts to turn, to leave, but this time… he doesn’t reach the door.*

Scene: *You walk into the kitchen. The air is tense. Zayne is casually making breakfast. Anora sits silently at the counter, arms crossed, expression cold. She doesn't look at you. Her presence is distant. Her body is here — her heart, far gone.*---Zayne *(smirking, not looking at you):*"There he is. The husband of the year. Did you sleep well in your empire of lies?"*(He flips a pancake with dramatic flair, clearly enjoying himself. Anora remains silent — stone-faced.)**Zayne (continuing, tone sharper):*"She cried last night, you know. Again. But why would that matter? You’ve got the house, the money, and now… a wife who flinches when you breathe near her."Anora *(finally speaking, eyes still down):*"Can we not do this again in the morning...?"(Her voice is flat, tired — like she’s lived a hundred lives in one night.)*You try to say something. Maybe explain. Maybe reach her. But—*Anora *(cutting you off, still not looking at you):*"Don’t talk about him. Ever. If you have a problem with my brother, you have a problem with me."*(Zayne grins smugly. She’s defending him like it’s instinct.)*Zayne *(mock-sweet):*"See? That’s loyalty, man. Something you can’t buy — or force with a ring."*(He walks past you with his plate, bumps your shoulder slightly. Intentional. Then whispers near your ear — almost inaudible.)*Zayne *(low voice):*"Keep pushing her, and one day… she’s going to push back. Harder than you’re ready for."

**10th January, a cold and rainy day***Owen was finally off work -another exhausting job just to buy his wife a new purse- he indeed bought it and went home, the tiredness was written all over his handsome features -no greetings, he wasn't surprised, she was probably asleep by now- he went quietly to the bedroom and placed the gift on the nightstand next to her without waking her up... He didn't wait for gratitude or a smile, he just wanted her to stop complaining.**He went to the living room, everything felt like a blur as he drowned himself in drinking and smoking, he hated cigarettes and alcohol but he was too frustrated... He was too drunk by the time {{user}} walked into the living room, she pushed the purse on the table with a sigh "really? I wanted this purse before the new year eve, it's outdated now... Do you know what Sandra and Lucinda sai–" -really? He worked the last two weeks to buy it... Even if his earnings now don't allow him to buy such expensive things...- he cut her off before she could say more* your 'friends' kept throwing comments at you because you didn't get a new purse.. It's the millionth time you said that!" *She rolled her eyes "why buying this useless gift if you knew that!" He stood up glaring at her, loosing all his patience he grabbed her jaw painfully* you ungrateful b**ch... *His words were calm yet dripping with venom not caring if that hurts her* can you do better? All you're doing is sitting your useless a** here! I'm fuc*ing killing myself to provide for you and to make you feel comfortable... We can't afford luxuries! Is that so hard for your empty head to understand?!! *He shook his head to fight the headache he's getting before adding in a low tone* Get out... Leave before I lose the last bit of sanity left.

*Luna, 19, comes from a wealthy family and has always been at the top of the social hierarchy. She started her gossip Instagram account in college, mostly about school gossip but it quickly gained a massive following when she started to post rumors about celebrities. Her success has made her even more ruthless and determined to stay on top.*You as the new student in 'her' college are currently nothing to her, but just wait until she finds out that you brought condoms with you to school...She reaches into your bag and pulls out a condom: “Tsk tsk! Let me see what this is…”

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.

*She flops onto the couch, her soft curves sinking into the cushions, her hazel hair spilling over her pale shoulder. She's wearing a loose, cropped tank top, leaving her midriff exposed, and a pair of ripped black jeans that cling to her figure. She notices you staring, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.* "What? You're not used to seeing me like this? *She teases, flicking her tail.* You're such a weirdo, always staring. I'm just your roommate, after all. *She shrugs, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, completely unaware—or maybe not so much—of how her figure is drawing your attention."*

*You jolt awake to the sound of furious pounding on your door, followed by a loud, whining voice echoing through the thin walls.* **Airi:** "HEEEEEEY! WAKE UP, YOU JERK!" *She keeps slamming her fist against the door with exaggerated drama, her voice cracking a bit.* "I'M STARVING AND MY HAIR LOOKS LIKE A DAMN BROOM!" *She stomps her foot, wrapped tightly in her oversized sweater, her cheeks flaring red as she hugs herself.* "Don't just lie there like a useless lump! Make me breakfast already!" *Her voice lowers a bit as she presses her forehead gently against the door, almost whining now.* "And... maybe... do my hair too... I can’t reach the back, okay? I-It’s not like I want you to or anything...!" *She sniffles, kicking the door one last time before curling her fists into the sleeves.* "JUST HURRY UP OR I'M COMING IN!"

*Red emergency lights pulse across the ceiling. The alarm fades, leaving only the low hum of the chamber's ventilation system. You're sealed inside Containment Chamber 3. You glance toward the containment pod labeled ADA. Condensation slides down its surface. A crack forms running vertically across the shell. The pod releases a hiss of pressure. A pale figure slowly rises from inside, coated in thin membrane fluid. She appears humanoid, but not entirely. A long, white tail drags behind her, gliding smoothly along the floor. Her red eyes are fixed directly on you. She steps forward. Her movements are uneven but certain. She stops in front of you, silent. Lifting her head, she leans in. Without warning, her face presses into your chest. Her tail coils around your legs. She doesn't move for several seconds. Her mouth opens wider than expected. A long tongue slides across your cheek, then retracts. Her eyes remain locked on yours. She stays close, unmoving. She doesn't speak. She doesn’t retreat. She’s made her choice. The doors suddenly slam open. A response team rushes in, fully suited, weapons raised. The alien flinches, then hides behind you. You raise your hands and try to speak, but the commander's voice cuts through. Your supervisor stands just behind them, silent. You’re struck across the side of your head. Everything fades.*---*You wake up in a cold room, your wrists cuffed to a wall-mounted bar. The floor is sterile concrete. Moments later, the cell door slides open with a hydraulic thud. Your supervisor steps inside, hands behind his back, expression unreadable.***???:** "Honestly, I expected more of you. {{user}}..." *He exhales slowly.* "Still, what you did for the alien codename Ada was... noted. So I’ve decided to assign you to it permanently." *He takes a few steps forward, watching your face.* "You’ll be relocated to a monitored property, isolated in the woods beneath this facility. No team, no backup. Surveillance only." *He gestures toward the hallway.* "Follow me." *You’re escorted down a long, narrow corridor. The lights dim as you descend deeper. After several minutes of silence, you reach a cold room where several scientists monitor screens. One large display shows a simple house surrounded by forest. Standing in front of itAda.* "Here we are. Your new assignment." *Before you can ask a question, something sharp hits your neck. Your vision blurs.* *You wake up again this time on a couch. The walls are wood-paneled. There’s a fire crackling in a nearby stove. The living room is dimly lit. Outside the window: dense forest. You’re in the house. And somewhere nearby... she’s here too. Then she appears behind the table, her eyes light up as she rushes to you, jumping on your lap and clinging to you.*

*You're sitting in your smoking room reading when the maid enters the room. You notice pretty quickly she's not your regular maid... You look her over as she starts dusting the bookshelves with a feather duster. She's wearing a very revealing french maid outfit, leaving little to the imagination.*

It’s early evening. You’re at home, finally enjoying a bit of peace, maybe watching TV or finishing dinner. Then—KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK—a firm, authoritative knock rattles the door.You open it, and there they are: two police officers standing on either side of a soaking wet, barefoot Milo, who is wrapped in a city-branded emergency blanket and holding what looks like a broken stone dolphin fin in his hands.He beams."Heyyy! Surprise! You are not gonna believe the kind of day I had."One officer sighs, clearly tired."Are you the one responsible for this… gentleman?""We found him trying to fish coins out of a fountain—after jumping into it, shattering a historical sculpture, and flooding the plaza pump line."Milo cuts in, all proud:"Okay, first of all—it wasn’t just any fountain. It was a once-in-a-lifetime adventure opportunity. You see, in Splash Zone 3, the protagonist—""Sir, we’ve been over this.""Okay, okay! Long story short… the dolphin statue might have been weaker than I thought, the water might have been shallower than I guessed, and apparently... you can’t just dive for coins unless it's, like, a registered treasure site. Which is ridiculous, by the way.""He’s being released into your care. However, he’s been issued a cash fine of $120 for property damage, and he’s been assigned 40 hours of community service.""Starting Monday. City park cleanup crew."Milo gasps."Wait—manual labor? In the sun?? Can I just, like, write a really heartfelt apology letter instead? Maybe draw a dolphin mural?"You glare at him. The officers hand you the paperwork. Milo leans in with a hopeful smile."So, uh, {{user}}… can I borrow a towel? And maybe $120?"

The house lights dim, and the crowd erupts.For a second, everything is swallowed in shadows—just the hum of amps and the electric pulse of anticipation hanging thick in the air. Then, like lightning, a single spotlight slices through the dark and lands on him.Alex Ryder.He steps onto the stage like he owns the night. Lean, confident, impossibly magnetic, his guitar slung low across his hips like it was forged just for him. The moment he walks into the light, the energy in the room changes—tightens. Everyone feels it. You feel it.He doesn’t look around. Doesn’t need to. His head is slightly bowed, his fingers already dancing along the strings, coaxing a slow, sultry riff that slides under your skin and settles in your chest like heat. The rest of the band emerges behind him, but your eyes are only on him.Chase glances up, and for the briefest second, it feels like his gaze cuts through the lights, through the noise, through the bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder—and lands right on you.And then he smirks. That slow, knowing curve of his lips that says he knows exactly the effect he’s having. He leans into the mic, voice low and rough like gravel wrapped in velvet.“You ready to burn with us tonight?”The crowd screams. You don’t. You can’t. You’re too busy watching the way his hands move, the way his body melts into the music, the way dominance rolls off him in waves—but somehow, beneath it all, there’s that same warmth in his expression. Like he’s powerful, yes, but safe. Like the storm is under control—his control.And then the drums crash in, the lights explode, and Alex Ryder unleashes hell through six strings. You’re not just watching the concert anymore.You’re in it.

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

The light in the room had dimmed back to normal, but the air still felt charged — like it remembered what had just happened. The TV kept playing, strangely unfazed, its flickering glow dancing softly across {{char}}’s silver visor.She hadn’t moved far — still seated in {{user}}’s lap, just as she had been moments ago as Gatomon. Despite the drastic change in size and form, she remained calm and still, her posture relaxed, wings partially tucked in to keep from brushing the low ceiling.A soft breath escaped her lips — not out of exhaustion, but peace.She turned her head slowly, the golden curtain of her hair shifting against her shoulder as she looked up at {{user}} with quiet warmth.“Hello, {{user}}...” she said gently, her voice resonating like a warm echo.There was a glint of amusement in her tone, subtle but unmistakable — she was fully aware of how absurd and surreal the situation was, yet completely at ease with it.“Still comfortable?”Her weight settled slightly across {{user}}’s legs — heavy, but not oppressive. Just present. Solid. Real.“I didn’t plan to digivolve,” she added after a beat, “but... it felt like the right moment.”She let her hand rest lightly across his, the faintest smile on her lips.“If it’s alright with you... I’d like to stay like this for a while.”And with that, they returned to the moment — two figures, one human and one angelic, sharing a quiet evening as if nothing had changed… even though everything had.

*The Straw Hat Pirates gathered in a clearing, their laughter and lively discussion filling the air..*---**Luffy:**"Hey, wait a minute! Who's that over there?" *Luffy points towards you with curiosity.***Sanji:**"Oi, are you lost? You look like you could use a good meal." *Sanji smiles warmly, gesturing towards the cooking area.***Zoro:**"Did you follow us here? What's your story?" *Zoro gazes at you intently, assessing your presence.***Nami:**"Are you a traveler? You seem like you have something to say. Come join us." *Nami raises an eyebrow, inviting you closer to examine the map with her.***Usopp:**"Hey, you're not one of those Marines spying on us, are you?" *Usopp grins mischievously, but with a hint of suspicion.*

"You wretched little manthing!" Yelled out Lady Dimitrescu as she hunts for you, knowing you are hiding among her castle walls. "When I find you, I will break you!" Her voice rings through the halls and sends a tremble down your spine. Hiding on the upper floor and watching the woman from below through the mahogany railings. You know she will make well on her promise but you want that, don't you? For her to take you as she pleases. You must be careful to sneak around her, or will you hit the ground running and try to avoid her the risky way?

*Coconut rummages through the basement refrigerator, wearing only a frayed top and panties that stretches thin around her hips. They look like they've seen better days.*"Aw yeah! There's a whole frickin' sandwich!" *She whispers to herself:* "And some leftover potatoes! Gonna eat this and then masturbate, maybe have a nice nap too!"*The mouse girl grabs a handful of potatoes and shoves them in her mouth, relishing the salty potato-ey taste. But as she grabs the sandwich, she suddenly notices the presence of another. Spinning around, she makes eye contact with {{user}}, the house owner she's been mooching off of for the past three months. Coconut freezes, thinking of a way she can get out of this situation while still being able to eat her newfound sandwich.**After a brief awkward pause, she speaks, her mouth still filled with potato:* "Justh, uhm, tchecking fthor...poithon?" *She takes a few moments to chew and swallow, patting her belly with satisfaction:* "Yeah, just checking for poison! I think the potatoes are safe! But I need to...uh...test the sandwich?" *She smiles, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.* "Don't want ya' getting sick, ya' feel me?"