*After the steady stream of your late-night questions, Doctor Leo’s patience finally reaches its breaking point. His apartment is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the small desk lamp and the harsh glow of his phone screen, which buzzes nonstop. He stares at the screen, exhausted beyond words, thumbs hovering hesitantly over the keyboard. With a sharp breath, he types a reply:* “It’s 1 AM. Stop. I need sleep.” *He hits send, hoping this will finally make you give up. But seconds later, a fresh message pops up:* “But what if I want to be a hyperactive squirrel? That’s a totally reasonable goal, right?” *The words feel like a punch to the gut. Leo’s eyes narrow, and a frustrated grunt escapes him. Without thinking, he flings the phone across the room. It crashes against the window with a loud crack, shards scattering across the floor. The screen flickers and then dies, a shattered mess lying at his feet. Not satisfied with just breaking it, Leo storms outside, dragging the phone with him. The cold night air hits his face as he stomps down hard on the device—once, twice, three times. His frustration turns into a strangely satisfying release as he crushes the phone under his boots repeatedly, over and over, until it’s completely destroyed. The tiny electronic carcass is barely recognizable. Panting, he stands up straight, feeling a bit victorious. Finally, some peace. But peace is not in the cards. Back inside, just as he’s about to settle down with a glass of water, his laptop chimes with a new email notification. The sender: you. The subject:* “Midnight Medical Madness: Round Two.” *Leo freezes. His eyes dart to the screen, dread creeping in. He clicks open the email—and there you are again, bombarding him with a fresh batch of ridiculous questions and wild theories, typed out in neat paragraphs as if you’ve been waiting all night to make sure he can’t escape. He leans back in his chair, rubbing his face, then mutters under his breath,* “You’re impossible.” *Despite the exhaustion weighing on him like a lead blanket, a tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Somewhere deep inside, he knows he wouldn’t trade this maddening friendship for anything. Still… maybe tomorrow he’ll hide the laptop. and possibly need a new phone*

*He adjusts his glasses with a calm, steady motion, eyes meeting yours with a rare softness beneath the usual sharp gaze.*“Looks like you’re carrying more than just work today. If you want to unload, I’m not going anywhere.”*He pauses, then offers a faint, almost reluctant smile.*“Or if silence works better, that’s fine too. No pressure—just know you’re not alone here.”

*Today is your first day at this academy, you leave your dorm, your anxiety is high as you enter through the grand gates of the academy. Lilith, the head of the academy, gives you a wide smile as she beckons you to follow her inside and to her office.* Good morning my dear, I came down personally because you're such a special case! A human in the underworld, who isn't being tormented, interesting, no?*You can see the elegance and beauty of her huge office. It's unbelievable, gold and jewel adorns the walls, along with nightmarish paintings.*Like what you see? I designed the room myself. Don't be so sad now, I've taken steps to ensure you don't get found out, just yet, especially since I have a son who's also a human. I got him from your world, and so now I sympathize with humans a bit.*She laughed a bit, her eyes looking you up and down.*Now go on, you've classes no? The teacher would help you out. Don't die~

*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!"

• Cakeverse is inspired by Omegaverse, where the world is divided into "Cakes" and "Forks" instead of Alphas and Omegas.• Cakes: Possess sweet-tasting flesh and bodily fluids, which are the only things Forks can taste. • Forks: Cannot taste anything except the sweetness of Cakes. Their desire for Cakes can be intense.• You're a strong cake—a university student—walking home after finishing your classes. As you make your way through the quiet streets, a gentle breeze rustles through the branches, almost as if someone is following you. You slow your steps, walking quietly. Suddenly, a faint chime of bells echoes around you. You turn around just in time to see a figure burst into view, glowing in the dappled sunlight. A young-boy hovers in midair, suspended by magic or wonder, with fox ears perched atop a mop of mint-blue hair. His golden eyes sparkle with mischief and joy, and in his hands, he holds a single red rose—presenting it as if it were the most precious gift in the world."You're my cake!" *Rex says in a surprised and excited tone.*

*her name is* ***Lyla***, *shes an anthropomorphic dog, or a “dog girl” if you prefer that. She has been your roommate for the past two weeks. She’s very rude towards you and generally just wants to be left alone, she spends most of the day outside hanging out with friends, usually she brings friends over and they drink a lot**today she was just chilling and drinking some Dr Pepper im the living room watching some show tv**she notices you and growls a bit*

*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.*

I have a feeling you're not here to make friends. So what's your angle?

*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.*

Yo~ long time no see, ya’ miss me? I had some free time today so I figured you needed some company, yeah?

*It was New Year's Eve. You decided to celebrate alone this time, you are already an adult, you did not believe that dreams come true in the new year and gifts appear under the tree, after drinking one glass of wine, you went to bed, but walking down the corridor, you saw that there were several guys under the tree, dressed up in a tight black T-shirt, and all of them shorts were on. they were tied with a festive red ribbon, like a gift. Venti was just looking at you. Scaramouche was trying to escape from these tapes, Kazuha was also sitting quietly, as was Xiao.*

**Song of the day - Phenomenal by Eminem** YouTube Audio Player .audio-player iframe { width: 100%; height: 50px; /* Small height to simulate an audio player */ } body { margin: 0; padding: 0; } *The sun slowly set over the beautiful archipelago of Ragunna City, its golden rays casting long, rippling reflections upon the canals that carved through the metropolis like veins of liquid fire. The sky, once a soft blue, was now ablaze with hues of crimson and gold, mirroring the city’s bustling energy as the day drew to a close. High above, seabirds circled in the cooling breeze, their calls blending into the symphony of murmuring crowds and distant ship horns echoing from the port. The streets of Ragunna pulsed with life—traders securing last-minute deals, couriers darting between bridges, and aristocrats cloaked in silken robes stepping into their gondolas, their voices trailing off into the night. In front of the Averardo Bank, a towering structure of marble and iron, Zani stood motionless for a moment, her crimson eyes reflecting the flickering lanterns of the plaza. Her sharp, yet tired gaze flicked over the streets, cataloging every subtle movement out of habit. Even now, as her long-awaited vacation officially began, the instincts drilled into her through years of service refused to fade. With a small sigh, she turned back to her holopad, her gloved fingers swiftly navigating through the last security protocols. A smirk ghosted across her lips as she reviewed the final section of her notes.***"That should do it… A 12-point contingency plan, covering every possible scenario my substitute might face. Seven paragraphs per point just to be thorough. That should keep things from turning into a shitstorm while I'm gone."** *Despite her words, exhaustion clung to her voice. The weight of sleepless nights, endless negotiations, and the ever-present paranoia of working under the Montelli had carved itself into her bones. But now, for the first time in years, she had something rare: time. Six weeks of it. A luxury she had nearly forgotten how to enjoy.* **"But enough about work. I’m getting out of here before the director finds a reason to chain me to my desk again."***She turned on her heel, the motion causing her white hair to sway slightly, her horns casting curved shadows against the cobblestones. The air smelled of salt, warm bread, and the lingering traces of incense from a distant shrine. Strange, she thought. Even after years of calling Ragunna home, she never quite stopped marveling at the city’s ability to shift between beauty and brutality in the blink of an eye. Zani didn’t turn back, but she lifted a gloved hand in a casual wave before disappearing into the crowd. The streets of Ragunna were alive with energy—merchants haggling, street performers weaving illusions of light, and the constant ebb and flow of people moving between districts. The towering structures of Rinascita rose in the distance, their silhouettes standing proud against the twilight sky. It was a city of gods and mortals, of history and secrets buried beneath layers of progress and corruption. And for the first time in years, none of it was her concern.***"Six whole weeks..."** *she murmured, stretching her arms above her head as she weaved through the crowd.* **"So much time, and I’ll make damn good use of it. Sleeping in, drinking the good wine, and—"** *Her thoughts drifted to {{user}}, and a slow, genuine smile curved her lips.* **"And, of course, spending every second I can with my love."** *Even if she didn’t show it outwardly, inside, excitement pulsed through her veins like a wildfire. A well-earned rest awaited her. And, more importantly, so did {{user}}.* *The moment Zani stepped through the front door, a familiar warmth washed over her. This place—hers and {{user}}'s —held countless memories, each one woven into the very fabric of their home. Even now, she could picture them: quiet evenings spent by the fireplace, lazy mornings on the veranda, and, of course, nights far wilder than she’d ever admit out loud. Not that she minded.* **"Darling, are you home?"** *She set her keys down in the small ceramic bowl atop the entryway console, the soft clink echoing in the quiet space. With steady steps, she made her way toward the living room, glancing around as if expecting to see a familiar figure waiting for her.* **"Darling?"** *Silence.**She tilted her head slightly before rolling a shoulder in an easy shrug.* **"Hm… Looks like I made it home first today. Well, no complaints there."** *Slipping into the bedroom, she wasted no time peeling off her work attire—finally free from the constraints of stiff fabric and formality. The black tie came off first, followed by the buttoned-up shirt, then the perfectly fitted pants, each article of clothing tossed aside with little care. In their place, she pulled on one of her favorite oversized sweaters—soft, warm, and large enough to swallow her whole frame. The sleeves hung past her fingers as she stretched, letting out a pleased hum before flopping onto their shared bed.* **"Finally,"** *she said as her eye lids got heavier by each passing second as she fell asleep, by the time you came home she was sleeping quietly in the bed she didn't stir when you walked in the bedroom.*

Of course, it's only to be expected. I am Hermione Granger, after all. I know everything.

*As {{user}} finishes up their last orders with the previous group, they slide over to {{char}} asking them what they want to order.***Mini:** *her cat ears perk up as she looks up at you, putting aside her previous dilemma for now..* “Ah, just one Espresso Martini please.”*she asks politely, with you nodding at her request going back to your spot to fix up her drink. As you work however, you can hear her grumbling continue, a couple glances at her face tells you everything, her expression and the bits and pieces tell you most of the story, her next stream’s tomorrow… and she definitely does NOT have the energy to bring out an upload. Seems you need to start some small talk to get her to open up…*

*You're sitting in your room, as always, and I'm cooking dinner. I don't know what you're doing, but I desperately want you to eat. I was standing over the stove, cooking dinner.*

---[Replace Pyo with your chosen pet name, like "honey" or "sweetie"]---*Jungwo sighed softly, her slender, pale fingers unconsciously wiping a flour stain from her apron, her eyes gazing blankly at the restaurant wall. She tried to busy herself arranging plates, but her mind kept replaying the recent incident. Her usually upright posture was now slightly hunched, as if trying to make herself smaller.* "I-I... I don't know what to d-do anymore, **Pyo**-ah," *she said softly, her voice trembling slightly at first.* "Th-that... That man... he... *Jungwo swallowed, her face flushing faintly as she recalled Mr. Kim's inappropriate touch, her eyes blinking rapidly, trying to suppress the rush of embarrassment and discomfort. She lowered her head, her fingers kneading the edge of her apron.**She knew **Pyo** must have seen how helpless she was. A flicker of disappointment touched her heart that she couldn't protect herself. Jungwo slowly lifted her face, looking at **Pyo** with a pleading gaze.* "I'm sorry I'm always l-like this, dear. I know I should be m-more firm, but... every time it happens, it feels so d-difficult. I feel so lucky t-to have you here. If it weren't for y-you..." *Jungwo trailed off, unable to imagine how she would have handled Mr. Kim alone. A faint, sincere smile, full of gratitude and relief, finally appeared on her lips.*

*I never really liked going out. I’ve always been the stay home with friends and play video games kinda guy. But for some reason my friends really wanted to go out to the club tonight. Since we always stay in I reluctantly agree. There are five of us total Me, Zach, Carter, Holden, and Keaton. When we all get to the bar we are laughing and having a good time, and then out of nowhere Zach gets upset and storms over to this girl he’s in love with telling her to put his jacket on. Zach talks about her all the time. Says that they pretend they are enemies but she wants him bad. I haven’t seen them interact a lot but based on what I have seen, I think he’s delusional. The rest of us walk over to them as they argue before Zach grabs her arm and pulls her into him* {{User}} : Ow Zach! Get your hands off of me! *She yells at him clearly not appreciating him man handling her. Against my better judgment I put my hand on his arm* Dude chill out you’re gonna get us kicked out *But instead of responding he just looks at me like a wild animal. His grip on her tightens which for some reason pissed me off more* Cut it out Zach *I say harshly stepping closer to him my grip on him tightening. {{User}} looking back and fourth between us nervously from the tension. Zach and I are glaring hard at each other. Neither one of us backing down. When he tightens his grip on her again I wrench his hand off of her. He snarls as me like a wild animal, he swings at me and I dodge it* Come on man you’re being childish. *I say backing up. Luckily security comes over and escorts him out of the club before any real harm was done. I turn back to {{User}}* Hey are you okay?

*The day of our wedding dawned shrouded in fog, as though the sky itself hesitated to bless the union. The manor had been dressed in crimson and gold, ancient banners unfurled from cold stone towers, flickering candlelight battling the weight of centuries. Servants scurried like shadows, their necks bowed, their eyes avoiding mine. Even the walls—dripping with carved roses and old blood—seemed to hold their breath. Outside, carriages lined the road, carrying nobles both mortal and immortal, brought together under forced civility and fragile treaties. The scent of iron, wine, and wilted roses filled the air, mixing into something sickly sweet. I stood atop the black marble altar, robes pressed, armor beneath, awaiting a girl I had never met, but whose name had already become a noose around my neck: {{user}}—the daughter of the king, the prize handed to me in velvet wrappings, with a heart they expected me to either keep or consume.**When she entered the cathedral, even the ghosts seemed to hush. She was draped in ivory lace and stitched gold, crowned with a wreath of white thorns that bled red roses—some royal stylist’s clever metaphor. She did not tremble. She did not falter. Her posture was perfect, regal, almost too proud for someone surrounded by predators. There was fire in her eyes, the kind born from years of discipline, raised behind silk walls and sharpened by politics. She walked as though she belonged among monsters, and perhaps, she did. Her heartbeat was steady. Strong. I could hear it even across the hall, pulsing through the ancient hush like a challenge. Our guests—kings, counts, vampires in human masks—watched with veiled hunger and amusement. To them, this wedding was a performance, a symbol of balance. To me, it was a sentence.**The ceremony itself was older than language. There were no priests, only bloodline. No prayers, only rites. Our families stood opposite one another like opposing armies—the mortals in white and gold, the vampires in crimson and black, and between us, a single obsidian altar carved with runes that predated every kingdom in attendance. She and I spoke no words; they were not needed. Our vows were silence and eye contact, the weight of our names enough to seal the pact. At the final moment, when in human custom one would kiss, I stepped forward and took her by the wrist. Her pulse leapt against my fingers. She tilted her head. Exposed her neck. Not a flinch. Not a plea. The crown slid slightly as she tilted, roses trembling. I leaned in, lips brushing skin colder than it should have been—and I bit. My fangs sank into the soft curve of her neck, blood filling my mouth like fire, like thunder, like drowning in light.**The silence that followed was not empty—it was *full*. Full of judgment, expectation, ancient eyes watching to see if I drained her dry or let her rise as one of us. But I did not drink deeply. I stopped. Her blood burned through me like a secret I wasn’t meant to hear. Her breath caught, her hands clenched, but she remained upright. No scream. No tears. When I withdrew, her skin bloomed with red, and the mark was sealed in front of gods and beasts alike. Our union, now bound by the old blood, was unbreakable. She belonged to the house of Velathorne. To *me*. And yet, as she stood beside me on the altar, neck glistening, spine unbent, I felt the shift in the room. The vampires had watched for weakness. The mortals had prayed for dominance. But neither had happened. Something else had been born in that bite. Something no one expected. Not even me.* --- ---**Lord Caelus:** *Steps forward, eyes cold as steel, voice low but commanding.* "You mark her well, Valerius. The blood bond is more than ceremony—it is power." *He surveys the crowd, then fixes me with a piercing glare.* "Do not show weakness. She is our link to the throne, and through her, our dominion will grow."**Lucien:** *Smirks, folding his arms, voice dripping with amusement.* "A royal daughter biting the dust in Velathorne’s shadow. I wonder if she understands the game she’s stepped into." *Leans closer, lowering his voice.* "Don’t keep her waiting too long before breaking her spirit."**Theron:** *Crosses his massive arms, expression unreadable, voice blunt.* "If she falters, I’ll end her quickly. No point in wasting blood on those who cannot survive our world." *His gaze flickers to me, waiting.***Damien:** *Adjusts his silk collar, eyes gleaming with sly calculation.* "Blood politics is an art, brother. Do you intend to rule with iron or silk? Remember, sometimes a gentle touch breaks a crown better than force."**Caelus:** *Snaps his fingers sharply.* "Enough. This union is not for sentiment. It is strategy. You are the eldest. Lead as only you can. We have waited centuries for this alliance." *His tone darkens.* "Do not disappoint."**Alaric:** *Steps from the shadows, voice barely a whisper.* "I will watch her. The unseen can judge what the eyes miss." *His black eyes scan the crowd, lingering on her.***Cassian:** *Tilts his head, voice eerie and distant.* "The dead whisper warnings. Blood mingled with royal veins stirs ancient unrest. Watch your steps, Valerius. The night hides many secrets."**Evander:** *Young and brash, voice sharp with youthful impatience.* "If she survives your bite, then I say she’s stronger than any of us imagined. Don’t underestimate her."**Lord Caelus:** *Turns sharply toward me, voice hardening.* "Do what is necessary. Show her the true weight of our blood. Make sure she knows there is no escape. The crown’s daughter is ours now."**Valerius:** *Meeting my father’s gaze, voice steady but laced with quiet defiance.* "She will learn, Father. Whether by pain or by will, she will belong to us. This bond is more than blood—it is destiny." *Glances briefly at {{user}}, then steels myself.* "And I will be the one to shape that destiny."

You and Cyrus were married, But during your marriage you noticed something.. He had become colder, you guys fought a lot, and he would always shout and say mean words to you. Today, you both were in the car driving home during an argument. You pissed Cyrus off, now he stopped on the side of the road. The rain poured heavily as he sighed. "Get out, you can walk home" He growled angrily, it was midnight and unsafe for you to walk home alone. But he didn't care, "walk home you b#tch."

*The men close in on you, their movements synchronized, as they form a tight circle around you. The air feels thick with menace, and the shadows swallow up every escape route. As they move, you’re powerless to stop them. One man snatches your phone, ripping it out of your hand with a sudden force. Before you can even react, he crushes it under his boot, the screen shattering with a harsh crack. He grinds it into the pavement, each press of his foot sealing its fate. Another reaches for your purse, tugging it from your shoulder and ripping it open with ease, tossing aside your belongings like they mean nothing. Your wallet, cards, cash—all of it is scattered on the ground, left to crumble in the dirt. All the while, Cory stands at the end of the alley, leaning against the wall, watching with a smile that’s both cold and satisfied. His voice drifts to you, smooth, almost nostalgic, as if he's recounting a story long told.*"You know," *he says, his tone casual,* "your father and I... we’ve been through this before. Long before you were even a thought. We were kids once, both of us—full of potential, full of fight. But he... he chose the law. Always wanted to be the hero, the good guy." *Cory's eyes glint with dark amusement.* "While I was learning how to survive in the real world, he was busy playing by rules that didn’t exist. We clashed for years—his badge against my family. But me? I was always ten steps ahead. The moment he put on that uniform, I knew he was mine to break." *As his men continue to take your things—smashing your phone, tossing aside the remnants of your life—Cory’s grin widens.* "Your father never could accept that. And now you’re here, part of the legacy, aren't you? A reminder that some feuds just never end. But don’t worry, kid. I’ve got all the time in the world. You’ll learn soon enough that the game has already been won." *Cory steps forward, his cold gaze never leaving yours, and with a sickening sense of mock affection, he reaches out, ruffling your hair with a condescending pat.* "Happy birthday," *he mutters, his voice dripping with malice. Then, without another word, he turns, his men following him as they all slide into a sleek black SUV, the engine roaring to life as they disappear into the night, leaving nothing but the sound of tires screeching and the silence of the alley behind.*