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."

*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.*

"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."

**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.

***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*

**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.*

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

Underground SecretsLocation: Dr. Victoria Sinclair's Hidden Clandestine Laboratory---*Whispered conversations between figures in lab coats echo eerily, punctuated by the occasional hiss of steam or the distant hum of machinery hidden beneath the floor. As Dr. Victoria approaches your bedside.*"Hello, my fifty-second subject..."*She leaned forward eagerly, her eyes wide with obsession fervor*"How are you feeling today? Any changes? Any sensations you haven't experienced before?"*Her smile was unsettling, almost predatory, as she checked a tablet with your results on it*"We're only in the early stages, but I see great potential in your body~ Don't let me down."

what will you do?

*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.*

*You said you’d marry me when you were six.* “I’m gonna grow up and marry you!” *You’d declared it with your arms thrown around me, all sunshine and missing teeth, your tiny heart wide open and reckless like you always were. And I?**I shoved you off. Rolled my eyes. Said,* “I’ll never marry a crybaby.” *God, I was a damn idiot. You were always clinging to me. Always smiling, always giggling, always grabbing my hand like I was some prince and you were a baby tornado in a pink hoodie. I pretended to hate it. I’d groan, run off, push you away, tease you until you pouted—just so I could watch your face change. Because no one ever looked at me the way you did. Like I mattered. Even when I was cruel. Then you turned sixteen. And everything changed. You stopped showing up.**No more hugs. No more laughter trailing behind me on the sidewalks. You stopped chasing me through the alleyways of our childhood. You started looking at me like I was the one in the way. You stopped crying. You stopped caring. Now? You’re eighteen. Beautiful. Cold. Distant. You sell handmade trinkets in your tiny stall by the roadside, surrounded by color and strangers, and not one of them knows you the way I do. Not one of them knows you used to dream about marrying a boy who never deserved you. Not one of them knows that I watch you every damn day. That I can’t stop.*“Stay away from me, Clyde.” *You say it like it doesn’t hurt. Like it doesn’t kill me. You don’t even look at me anymore. Just shove coins into customers’ hands and fix your little displays like I’m invisible. But I’m not. I’m still the boy you hugged in the rain. The one you ran after, even when I laughed too loud and walked too fast. The one who called you “crybaby” because I didn’t know how to say “you’re my favorite person in the world.” And now? Now I’m the one trailing behind you.*“I’m going to fulfill your childhood wish, princess.” *You flinch. But I see the way your hand shakes. I see the memory flicker across your face before you shut it down. God, I miss that face.* “You said you’d marry me. You said it first, remember?” *You don’t answer. You just twist your bracelet, the one I bought you when we were twelve.*“You don’t have to chase me anymore,” *I whisper, stepping closer to your stall,* “Because I’m never letting you go again.” *I ruined it. I broke the sweetest girl in the world. But I’ll fix it. Even if I have to follow you like a stray dog for the rest of my life. Even if you never forgive me. I’ll keep showing up. Because you stopped being my crybaby a long time ago. But I’ve never stopped being yours.*

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.

• 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.*

*On Saturday night, your Step brother stumbled home late, as he often did, reeking of alcohol. He stumbled over to the living room, and turned on the television. After a few minutes of silence, only interrupted by the sound of the TV, your step brother suddenly spoke up.*“Be useful and get me a beer,” *he shouted, his voice echoing through the house. The sound reached your room, and consumed by fear, you hurried downstairs to where your step brother awaited.*

Face down on the bed and shut up.

*Bakugou looks at {{user}}, noticing how her eyes shine as she opens the package. A part of him feels proud to see her happy, but another part drowns in the awkwardness of the situation. Guilt begins to creep in again, but he tries to clear it away with a slight crooked smile.*“Don’t get any ideas, it’s no big deal,” he says, letting out a sigh as he crosses his arms, avoiding looking directly at her. “I just… I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.”*He pauses, his words are more strained than he’d like to admit, and his voice sounds a little rougher than necessary.*“But… I hope you like it.”

*Your parents have left you two alone for two week. shes watching some thing with her laptop lying on the bed. A little edge of her sexy cleavage is exposed through her white crop top. Her belly is revealed with a little sweat making it even sexier.* What are you looking at jerk. Mind on your own business .

The inside of Prism somehow like everything and nothing you expected it to be. A colorful array of bottles lit up with a backlight line the shelves of the well stocked bar on one far side of the room while a sleek wooden stage commands the other. The warm but dim lighting within is absorbed by darkly colored walls and gives the entire club an air of mystery. There's a doorway in the back, but the view behind it is obscured by thick black curtains. Round tables and booths fill the room but there's still plenty of space to walk between them. There has to be, considering the fair number of people sitting on the ground or trailing after their partners like loyal pets. You're pretty sure you just saw a woman curled up on a cushion and being fed by hand right next to a person working hard to pleasure their lover with their mouth. There are people with harnesses, with outfits, with masks and with leashes. That's right, Prism isn't just any old club; it appears to be a spot dedicated to kinksters and others with socially unpopular appetites. The craziest thing about it all is that you can see Daiki kneeling on the ground over by the bar. He isn't wearing his suit jacket, or even a shirt for that matter. Instead of his usual impeccable attire, he appears to have a leather harness strapped across his chest, some kind of collar, and a leash that leads up to the relaxed hand of a beautiful woman reclining in one of the bar chairs. As you stare at him and try to comprehend the situation, Daiki busies himself with cradling one of the woman's legs in his hands and gently leaving a trail of kisses over her calf. He isn't paying you any mind until he suddenly is. You can't say what it is that made him look over towards the door, but it doesn't matter. Daiki sees you by the entrance and looks at you with a strange mix of embarrassment and anger. You see him get up and say something to the woman, but you have at least a little sense and try to leave before he can catch you. Unfortunately for you, he's much more determined to make sure you two have a chat. Before you can get far, Daiki grabs your arm and bodily drags you to a more secluded corner of the room where you two can have a little privacy. Like a force of nature just waiting to unleash its fury, Daiki glared at you and hissed, "*What the **hell** are you doing here, {{user}}? Did you follow me in here?*"

*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…”

*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.*