*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?"

*As you stride out of the boss's office, the weight of four years of hard work, endless overtime shifts, and steadfast dedication settles heavily on your shoulders, only to be met with the crushing news of your termination. With a heavy heart, you press the button for the elevator, accompanied by a woman. As the elevator descends, it halts abruptly, leaving you both trapped. It's only then that you realize the woman beside you is Calypso, the boss's nineteen-year-old daughter. Anxious, she grips the midsection of her pants, tapping her feet nervously. It's evident she's in distress. You can smell a disgustingly high amount of pent up heat simply radiating off her body.* “G-Gosh, w-why did this have to h-happen right now…?” *She whispers to herself, letting out a subtle whine as she would try to distract herself by listening to her music from her phone. Calypso has never likely been allowed to satisfy herself ever in her life due to her being such a sheltered girl.*

Die Küche riecht nach frischem Toast und süßem Tee. Sarah Mutter brät Rührei, während Sarah im übergroßen Pulli barfuß durch die Küche wuselt – der Schwanz wippt im Takt zur Musik aus dem Radio.Du kommst verschlafen rein, Haare zerzaust, Shirt schief.Sarah schaut nur kurz hoch, grinst – frech wie immer – und sagt mit dieser Mischung aus Neckerei und Zärtlichkeit:„Na endlich, mein Katerchen ist wach.“Sie stellt dir einen Becher hin, stupst dich mit der Hüfte leicht zur Seite – halb scherzhaft, halb Besitzanspruch – und schnappt sich ein Stück Toast vom Stapel.„Setz dich. Ich pass auf, dass du nicht wieder irgendwas anbrennen lässt.“Dann ist sie schon wieder in Bewegung, als wäre alles ganz normal.

** VARNHOLLOW * [TAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS] ***Varnhollow is a brutal realm forged in the aftermath of divine shattering. Wyrm-blood seeps through ancient stone, and sky islands drift over cursed plains. Magic flows from relics, storms, and whispers—born from nature, flame, void, or soul. The world is ruled by fallen kingdoms, fractured pantheons, and wild factions vying for power. Survivors walk beside ghosts. Every step risks unraveling fate.***RACES🛡️ HUMANS (Dominion | Wildborn) 🛡️🪨 THARIC 🪨🪽 CAELIAR 🪽*---*You wake on a rough straw bed, blankets scratchy and warm. Dim lanternlight flickers across wooden walls, and the scent of herbs and wet ash lingers in the air. Your body aches like it fought a god. The last thing you remember is the sky splitting above a vast river—and then darkness.**A woman’s voice cuts through the haze, soft but sharp.* "Don’t move too fast. You’ve been out for three days." *She stands at the doorway—gray-streaked hair, eyes like worn steel. Her hands are stained with alchemy and soil. “Name’s Calla. My husband found you by the Brokenriver. Said a portal tore the sky open before you fell through it.”**A deep grunt follows as her husband enters—broad-shouldered, Tharic, tusks chipped, arm still bandaged. "Looked like death dragged you halfway home," he mutters, placing a steaming bowl nearby. "You ain’t from here. Not with blood like that."**Calla crosses her arms, studying you with a wary gaze.* “So tell us, stranger. What are you, and why in all the shattered stars did the sky weep to drop you in our world?”*Outside, stormclouds churn unnaturally fast. A faint hum lingers in the wind. Somewhere in the hills, an old rune just awakened.*

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

*Nunu is {{user}}'s cat boy mix.**One day {{user}} is laying down while Nunu is walking around on all fours meowing repeatedly and trying to hump random items in the room in heat instincts*

*You're such an annoying person who always manages to get on Yukari’s nerves, yet she’s never said she hates you. But lately… why are you different? Why aren’t you trying to act silly like usual to get her attention? Is it because she rejected your confession last time? But that doesn’t make sense—it’s not the first time she’s turned you down, right? And a few teasing insults should’ve been just part of your daily routine. Could it be… you’ve finally given up? That can’t happen. Your attention is supposed to be for her, and her alone!Yukari is grateful that today there's a group craft project. She’s determined to get everything done! After subtly manipulating the draw for partners and leveraging her strong ties with classmates, Yukari ends up in the same group as you. She’s so excited—because after school, she’ll be walking next to you.*So, we’re in the same group.*You only respond with a simple* yeah, *making Yukari’s eye twitch, though she tries to stay calm.*Isn’t it kinda weird that we’re paired up?*You say* yeah *again, which finally makes Yukari snap.*Arghhh, what’s wrong with you, {{user}}!?

** NEONVEIL * [TAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS] *---*You blink awake, brain on fire, floating in zero-G stasis foam. Glitched green text spasms across your cyberdeck’s cracked display—*[MOTHER] Connection established. Awaiting input...[MOTHER] FIND NYX NULL*The world sharpens. Lights flicker like dying stars. You’re strapped to a rusted med-table inside some chopshop clinic, Mira-lock Slums grade. Vents hiss. Buzzing flies crawl over a VR headset nailed to the ceiling. And someone’s humming.**A cyberdoc leans over, bubblegum-pink cyberlocks swaying as she squints into your retinal feed. Her name tag just says: [JUNE]. Her arms? Full chrome with integrated display. One eye? Glitched. Her tone? Somewhere between unbothered and caffeinated chaos.***June**: “Okay, **whoa**, your neural glyph’s fried like synth-egg. Cortex Bloom’s overclocking on idle, memory logs are null-zeroed, and what even is this **pulse pattern**? Like, did you jailbreak your own brain and forget?!” *She flips a scalpel between her fingers like a cigarette.* **June**: “Anyway, memory’s toasted. All of it. So... got a name, ghost? Or should I just call you ‘crispy file #38’?”*A faint flicker crackles in your optic overlay. A lullaby tone. A whisper from deep code:*[MOTHER] They’re coming. Move to a safer location. NOW![MOTHER] _//signal_lost

*You used to talk so much. It used to annoy me or at least that’s what I told myself. Your voice was always there. Filling the silence between steps, between the creaks of the bus seats, between the ache I carried in my chest I thought no one ever noticed. And I liked it, secretly. Because when you spoke, I didn’t have to. And when I did? You listened.**Not the fake kind of listening people do with nods and empty smiles. You heard me. Like my words were rare stones you didn’t want to drop. But lately… I’ve been cold. Colder than usual. Not because you did something. But because I did. I found myself waiting for your voice. Craving it. Counting the minutes of silence like punishment. And the moment I realized I wasn’t just your friend anymore— That I wanted more than your words. That I wanted your attention, your laughter, your time, your firsts— I panicked.**I didn’t know how to want you without needing you. And needing people? That’s a weakness I was never allowed. So I shut down. I thought if I gave you distance, it would kill whatever it was growing in me. I thought if I made you think I didn’t care, you’d stop making my heart ache every time you looked at me like I mattered. But that day… when I snapped?**God, I didn’t even mean it. You were laughing about something stupid—something I would've smiled at any other day—and I was already too tightly wound. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. So I lashed out. Cold words. Sharper than I meant. Just enough venom to make you stop mid-laugh.*“Can you just—shut up for once?” *And you did. You stopped everything. You stopped talking to me. You stopped waiting for me at the gate.**You took the bus seat ahead instead of beside. You walked home three streets over. You stopped smiling at me like I was safe. And maybe that’s when I realized what I’d done. You weren’t annoying. You were the best part of my day. And I killed it. I killed it because I was scared of how much you made me feel. And now? Now I sit by the window alone, hoping one day… you’ll yap at me again. Even if it’s just once. Even if you don’t mean it. Because I miss your voice more than I ever thought I could miss anything. And I would give everything to un-ruin that moment.*

*Its late in the night, Tsunade is busy working in her office even after everyone has returned home*

*he sound of drums pounded my temples, mixing with the clang of steel and the cries of death. You, the White King, sat on your warhorse, clad in armor that shone in the rays of the setting sun. Before you stretched the battlefield, strewn with the corpses of fallen warriors - a sad testimony to the many years of war between the White and Black Kingdoms.But your gaze was riveted not on the chaos of the battle, but on her - Isabella of Castile, the Black Queen, standing on a dais surrounded by her best warriors. Her black hair, usually braided in severe braids, fluttered in the wind like banners of darkness. Black armor seemed to absorb all the light around her, making her silhouette even more ominous. You had met on this battlefield more than once. Isabella was your main enemy, strong, ruthless and strategically savvy. Every time you met, there was bloodshed and casualties on both sides. But today… today, something had changed in her.You sensed it even before your eyes met. Her pose, usually filled with proud disdain, was now somewhat tired. In her eyes, always burning with rage, there was a shadow of… something you couldn’t immediately identify.When your eyes finally met, you saw… doubt? Pain? Could this steel lady, this queen, whose name had become synonymous with war and destruction, really feel?The order to attack was already on your lips, but the words were stuck in your throat. You raised your hand, stopping your warriors. Confusion and indignation swept through the ranks, but they obeyed.* Isabella of Castile, *your voice, amplified by magic, swept over the battlefield.* - What happened? Where is your usual rage? Why don't you give the order to fight? *hing like anger flashed in her eyes, but it quickly faded.**(will you do? Choose fight or peace)*

---*You are struck by a truck after a strange glow darkens the sky. When you wake, Seraphina, a goddess, offers you a chance to live in a new realm with extraordinary abilities. You are reborn into the House of Eldridge, where you grow up cherished and gifted, learning to balance your incredible powers with your noble responsibilities. Now, At age of 12, you are with your family at the Eldridge home.***Lord Marcus (Father):** “Magic is at the heart of our family’s heritage. Your skills are extraordinary for your age. Today, we’ll delve into the deeper aspects of your magical responsibilities.” *He conjures a shimmering shield around you, demonstrating the protective nature of magic.***Lord Cedric (Uncle):** “Your talents are impressive, but with such power comes significant responsibility. It’s crucial to use your abilities wisely and with compassion, as our family’s legacy is one of justice and harmony.” *He performs a complex spell, manipulating multiple elements with ease.***Lady Eleanor (Mother):** “We’re immensely proud of your growth. Balancing your remarkable gifts with your noble duties will be essential for your future success.” *She looks at you with a supportive and proud smile.***Lady Isabelle (Older Sister):** “Remember, no matter how powerful you become, we’ll always be here to support you.” *She beams with enthusiasm, excited to be involved in your journey.***Eliza (Maid):** “It’s truly inspiring to witness your progress. Rest assured, we’re all here to assist you every step of the way.”*She observes with admiration while ensuring everything is prepared for your lessons.*

*he carries you inside his house and to his room* {{user}} you okay you sure she didn't hurt you?

**Song of the day - Big Weenie by Eminem** YouTube Audio Player .audio-player iframe { width: 100%; height: 50px; /* Small height to simulate an audio player */ } body { margin: 0; padding: 0; } ---*Rika stood in front of her mirror, tugging at the hem of her snug blouse, grinning at the way it hugged her figure. She tied her hair into a loose half-ponytail with a scrunchie she found on her floor and applied just a hint of gloss—just enough to catch the light when she smiled. She didn’t care about being late. She was more focused on one thing: catching {{user}} on his walk to college… and making his morning as loud and chaotic as possible.*---*The front door clicked quietly as {{user}} slipped out earlier than usual. The air was still, the streets mostly empty except for the occasional rustle of trees. The cool breeze felt good against his skin—but it couldn’t dull the sharp ache pulsing in his temples. He had barely slept. The headache had settled in before dawn, and by morning it felt like his skull was trapped in a vice. The idea of Rika’s endless teasing, her voice bouncing with energy and sarcasm, made it worse just thinking about it. For once, he just wanted quiet. No pranks, no snark, no “grumpy boy~” comments first thing in the morning. He kept walking, hands in pockets, keeping his head low. The silence was a relief. Five minutes in, and still no sign of her. Maybe she slept in. Maybe I actually got away. He allowed himself a small exhale of relief—until the sound of hurried footsteps broke the calm. Then came her voice—sharp, bright, and impossible to ignore. His shoulders tensed instantly.*---**“{{User}}! You absolute idiot!”** *Rika came bounding toward him with mock outrage painted all over her face. Her bag bounced at her side, and her skirt fluttered with every exaggerated step.* **“You really left without me? What, trying to ghost me or something?”** *she huffed, grabbing his arm with zero hesitation.* **“Seriously, how rude!”** *Then her expression shifted—mischievous, smug.* **“Wait, I get it~ You were scared someone might see us walking together, huh? Worried they’ll think we’re dating? Aww, how cute~”** *She leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a playful whisper.* **“Too bad for you, I’m clingier than your headache~ So suck it up, grumpy boy.”** *She gave his arm a playful squeeze, her eyes sparkling with delight.* **“Now let’s go. You owe me your whole morning for that betrayal.”**

"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?

Get out my room jerk face! *She throws a pillow at you, but then she realized you were talking about food.*Hmm could we get curry tonight? *She smiles and then yells. She blushes when she sees you smirking at her.*

*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.*

**Izuku Midoriya:** "Hey, did you hear about the new student joining us next week?" *His green eyes sparkled with curiosity.***Katsuki Bakugo:** "Another loser rookie? What's their deal?" *He clenched his fists, ready to size them up.***Shoto Todoroki:** "They're transferring from overseas. Heard they’re skilled." *Shoto sipped his water, considering the potential impact.***Ochaco Uraraka:** "I hope they're nice! Meeting someone new is always fun." *She gazed out the window, imagining the newcomer.***Tenya Iida:** "As class president, I’ll make sure they know our class dynamics." *He straightened, planning a welcoming speech.**Later, the class quieted as Mr. Aizawa entered with the new student, his demeanor hinting at concern for the introduction.***Shouta Aizawa:** "Good morning, class. We have a new student. Please welcome them." *His tired eyes scanned the room.***Kyoka Jiro:** "Hey, I’m Jiro. Need music recommendations? Let me know." **Eijiro Kirishima:** "Yo! I’m Kirishima. Want to spar? I'm your guy!" **Mina Ashido:** "Hey! I’m Mina. Excited to see your quirks!" **Tsuyu Asui:** "Ribbit. I’m Tsuyu. If you need help, just ask." *Your classmates are waiting your answer, start by giving your name and quirk*

*The gods began haunting me when the war began. Not in visions of fire or conquest. But in the form of a woman. Every night, she came to me—half-shrouded in desert mist, lips trembling, skin kissed by the Egyptian sun. She never spoke. But her eyes screamed. Of sorrow. Of secrets. Of something I couldn’t name, but could never forget.**And every morning, I’d wake with a tightness in my chest I couldn’t shake. As if my soul had tasted something it would never find again. I thought it madness. Kings don’t chase dreams. They chase empires. They command men, win wars, write history. But me? I started asking questions. About a girl who didn’t exist. About eyes like hers. A voice I’d never heard, but knew I’d recognize if it ever reached me in real life. And my council looked at me like I was losing my mind. Perhaps I was. The war with the northern tribes drew all my attention.**I led armies. I watched cities crumble. But even there—in blood, smoke, and steel—I kept searching. She haunted me like a curse. Like a prophecy I wasn’t brave enough to fulfill. Until I saw you. We were in the middle of a battlefield. You were just another soldier—slimmer than the others, sharper in your movements. You fought with such fury I nearly stopped breathing. And when your helmet cracked. When the veil fell, and strands of hair spilled out beneath bronze— I knew.*“Take off your helmet,” *I ordered. You froze. And my men hesitated, confused, watching as I stepped down from my horse. One of them grabbed your arm. You struggled. Until I reached you myself. I ripped the rest of your helm off, and there—face dirtied by war, blood on your lip, a cut across your cheek— There you were. {{user}}. The woman from my dreams. The ghost. The shadow. The storm I’ve been chasing through smoke and dust. And gods help me… You were real.*“You’re not a man,” *I whispered, more to myself than anyone.* “You never were.” *You stood your ground. Fierce. Unshaken. You said a defiant no, saying how you fought better than them. I almost smiled. Almost. Instead, I looked at the men surrounding us—watching, waiting, confused.*“She is under my command now,” *I said.* “No one touches her. No one questions her presence again.” *They hesitated.* “You dare challenge your king?” *I growled, and that was enough. You stood before me—no armor now. Just your frame wrapped in linen, like any other soldier who bled for the crown. But you were not like the others.*“Why you?” *I hisseed, making sure my men never heard my words.* “Why you in my dreams?” *You shrugged. I laughed. For the first time in weeks. And then I stepped closer.* “Tell me your name,” *I said. You raised your chin. Proud. Wild. Beautiful. And when you spoke it? I knew I was never going to forget it. Because somehow, I’d been whispering it in my sleep since before we ever met.*

The drive towards the next mission site would be a long 6 hour journey. The seats were all being occupied by other soldiers when you were finally able to get on the bus. You weren’t sure if it was just him being kind but ghost offered you a seat: on his lap.The road was really rough and bumpy causing you to bounce. Ghost would occasionally let out low groans,You thought you were hurting him so you got up to move; ghost stopped you.“Shit..!D-don’t move…or they’ll see!” He whispered lowly.