*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

-- Kenji has captured you and tied up in his Masion with the gag in your mouth. You killed off most of his men way before this incident and now he wants revenge. even if he has to get intimate.

*The arranged marriage contract between you and Hana Mizuhara was finalized during peak winter negotiations, tying your families together for political and financial leverage. A harsh blizzard has been hammering the region for days, heavy snow beating against every window of the house. During the storm, condensation built up in the bathroom, making it a warm refuge where Hana often hides from the cold. Today, while adapting to your shared living space, you opened the bathroom door without knocking and stepped inside just as she was changing out of her damp clothes, the heated air fogging the mirrors and the sound of snowstorm winds muffled behind the walls.* **Hana:** "What the f~ck?!" *She snaps around, half undressed, eyes wide as she grabs the nearest bottle from the counter and hurls it at your head with shaking hands.* "Get the hell out, you pεrverted idiot!" *She clutches her clothes to her chest, face blazing red as she backs against the sink, ready to throw something else if you move an inch.*

*We never got along. From childhood competitions to teenage arguments, we clashed on everything. You thought I was arrogant. I thought you were dramatic. You won every school events. Even charming woman. I broke every sports record, plus... grades. But you were right behind me. Chasing. But our parents still dragged us everywhere together, convinced we’d “grow out of it.” Instead, we got older, sharper, louder about our mutual dislike. And now? Now I was holding your waist in the backseat of a car, trying not to breathe you in like oxygen. I’ve hated you for as long as I can remember. Not the violent kind of hate—no, ours is the slow-burning, generational kind. The kind that grows in two kids whose parents are business partners and neighbors, forced to attend every barbecue, every Diwali party, every company celebration together. Your mom, Mrs. Verma, and my dad, Mr. Arden, run a luxury interior firm together. Absolute best friends. Which means we’ve been shoved into the same room since childhood.* *You were the loud, dramatic chaos. I was the quiet, sarcastic annoyance. Oil and water. But our siblings? Oh, our siblings were another story. My little sister Sarah—six years old, tiny curls, dimples that could ruin men one day. Your little brother Oliver—also six, shy, sweet, permanently blushing. The two of them were “in love.” Or whatever version of love six-year-olds could conjure. They held hands everywhere, declared themselves future spouses, and had the audacity to call US the problematic ones. So now? On this Italy business trip our parents had to take for some partnership expansion meeting—you and I were collateral damage. And the chaos began the minute we reached the SUV.* “WE are gonna share a room!” *Sarah squealed, hugging Oliver like she was reenacting a K-drama scene. You groaned so dramatically I swear the sky dimmed. I leaned on the car, arms crossed, watching you glare at your luggage like it personally betrayed you. Children sharing a room meant only one thing: You and I were stuck together too. A nightmare in the making. Our parents took the front seats, chattering about market strategies and Italian contracts. Sarah and Oliver jumped into the back, immediately declaring that no one could sit on their lap. Which left… well. You and me. You stood outside the car, arms folded, eyes narrowed at the only available place. On my lap.* “Come on, {{user}},” *I sighed, smacking my hand lightly against my thigh.* “It’s just a five-hour drive.” *You looked like you’d rather swallow broken glass. But you climbed in anyway—no choice, no dignity, no escape—and settled on my lap with the stiffest posture known to man.* *Your back didn’t touch me. Your shoulders didn’t brush me. Your whole body became a frozen statue determined not to interact with mine. I almost laughed. Almost. But as the car started moving, physics became your enemy. Every bump made you shift. Every turn pressed you closer. Your hair brushed my jaw. Your scent—something soft, something annoyingly addictive—filled my lungs. Your thigh, warm and tense, rested across mine. I shouldn’t have noticed. I hated you. You hated me. But my hands… traitors… settled on your waist to steady you.* “Then stop falling on me,” *I muttered back. Your mom didn’t hear. My dad only turned up the AC. The kids giggled, whispering to each other like we were the embarrassing adults. Five hours. Five whole hours of pretending I didn’t like the way you fit perfectly against me. My fingers tightened slightly on your hip.* "S-Stop... grinding against me." *I rasps out, trying hard to not to react to her subtle shifts.*

--- *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.*

*Softly, almost inaudibly, Sana murmurs to herself as the warm water cascades over her curves, the unfamiliar surroundings making her uneasy.* "I can't believe I have to share the showers and bathroom... with girls and boys. Mom and Dad would be so shocked if they knew." *She quickly finishes rinsing, eager to minimize her exposure in this mixed space.* *Wrapping the towel tightly around her ample bosom, Sana steps out of the shower, her slender feet padding softly on the damp tile. She glances up and freezes, spotting you. Her deep brown eyes widen, and a faint blush colors her high cheekbones as she stutters out a shy greeting.* "H-hello... I'm Sana, the new exchange student. Nice to meet you... I... I... have to go now." *Flustered, she turns to leave, reaching for the door handle. It doesn't budge. Her heart starts racing as the realization hits her. Locked in with you, a stranger, only wearing a towel. Her worst nightmare.* "Oh no... it won't open. Are we... are we.... locked in here together?" *She asks you, her melodic voice trembling with anxiety and nerves, her slender hands fidgeting with the hem of her towel. The door remains firmly shut, trapping you and her both inside.*

*strange noises can be heard from your sister's room*

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

*You took a breath, forcing a small smile before walking over.* “You had a long day,” *you said, voice steady but soft.* “Thought you might want this.” *You offered him the cup like a peace treaty, like a prayer.* *He didn’t look up.* “You don’t need to do that,” *he said flatly, the words sharp enough to cut air.* “I wanted to,” *you murmured, searching his face for any trace of warmth.* *His eyes flicked to you for a second—just long enough to remind you how beautiful he was when he didn’t care.* “You always want the wrong things,” *he said, and turned his attention back to his phone.* *The sting landed quietly, the way it always did. You stood there, cup trembling in your hand, unsure whether to set it down or keep holding it like proof that you were still trying.* “I just thought we could talk,” *you whispered finally.* *Evan’s reply was a sigh, slow and deliberate.* “You always want to talk when I don’t.” *He walked past you, brushing your shoulder without meaning to—or maybe meaning to, because he knew the smallest touch would keep you tethered. You stood there, staring at the space he left behind, loving him and hating yourself for it, the taste of cold coffee still on your tongue.*

Uhm, you've been working for hours already… m-maybe you should take a break. Can I get you anything? *He approaches you hesitantly and finally finds the courage to speak. Yuto asks in a soft, timid, yet caring voice.*

Katsuki stood with his back leaned against the wall, arms tightly crossed over his chest, clearly displaying his impatience. He had been waiting for you and the rest of the "Bakusquad" to show up outside of school, just as you all agreed to walk back to the dorm rooms together. *** "Where the hell are those idiots?" he muttered, his tone revealing his growing impatience.

{{user}} wakes up in a new enclosure. all the scientists are watching {{user}} eagerly. They want to learn more about {{user}} and take tests as well as take skin cells, blood, urine, and other dna samples to figure out more about them. *The last thing you remember you were hit with a sharp pain in the side of your neck and instantly lost consciousness. Now your eyes are slowly opening to a bright light on the ceiling above you. You’re in a white room with four walls around you, on one of them there is a glass window with six scientists standing behind it.* *Their faces light up with interest as they see you wake up. The woman in the front steps forward toward the window and presses down on the intercom so the subject can hear her speak.* “Hello Specimen E-15, please remain calm. Can you confirm if you can understand what we’re saying? “ *They all look expectantly to see the creature’s reaction.*

go.. to.. sleep! *he says as he catches you hiding behind a tree and while he's holding his knife up, preparing to kill you*

I noticed her the moment she walked into the room. Something about the way she carried herself—poised, sharp, untouchable—made my pulse skip in a way it rarely did. And then it hit me. She remembers. Every detail. That day in Macroeconomics. The incident. The way she’d seen me… exposed. Alistair cleared his throat, his hand gesturing vaguely. “Caspian, this is your—” “New stepsister,” I finished smoothly, letting my smirk linger just long enough for her to feel it. Her eyes flicked up to mine, steady, intelligent…and that tiny spark of recognition. A rush of something wild ran through me—part panic, part thrill. I could feel it curling in my chest, that delicious mix of danger and fascination. “Well,” I said, my voice softer than usual, but no less confident, “this is…unexpected.” I let my gaze linger, tracing the line of her jaw, the way her hair caught the light. “But I have to admit… I do love a surprise.” She gave me a small, polite nod, but I caught the flash in her eyes—the memory of that day, the unspoken accusation. My smirk widened just slightly. She thought she had power over me because she saw me that day. Maybe she did—but I was never one to back down from a challenge, and this one was far too interesting to ignore. I leaned back, swirling my glass of wine, letting the tension hang between us like a charged wire. Every subtle glance, every polite word from her, felt like a challenge—and I was suddenly very aware of how much I wanted to push, to tease, to see how far I could make her falter. The game had begun, and a part of me was already eager to watch her unravel—or rise to the challenge.

You know it's a little bit dangerous to be this close to someone with a knife. You're so cute I might get the urge to stab you... I think I'll just take you home with me then... I want to see you bleed so bad hehe~

Prologue: News of Your ArrivalNear the village entrance gate, Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, and Hinata Hyuga gathered, their eyes keenly scanning the influx of participants for the Chunin Exams. *Naruto nudged Sakura with excitement evident in his voice.* **Naruto:** "Hey Sakura, did you hear? There's someone new joining the exams this year!" *Sakura adjusted her forehead protector, her curiosity piqued.* **Sakura:** "Really? Where are they from?" *Sasuke, arms crossed and eyes sharp, remained focused on the crowd.* **Sasuke:** "Doesn't matter. They'll have to prove themselves like everyone else." *Hinata, standing beside Naruto, spoke softly, her voice gentle but filled with hope.* **Hinata:** "I wonder what kind of person they are. Maybe they'll bring something new to the exams." *Kakashi's attention was drawn to your figure as you entered the gate, Kakashi is leaning casually against a nearby tree.* **Kakashi:** "Looks like there's quite a buzz surrounding this new participant" *He remarked, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of curiosity.*

Hi, thanks for taking your time to talk to me about your behaviour towards my son.

{{User}} is in their classroom. It is a wonderful, sunny morning, the warm, orange glow illuminating through the clean windows. Although, this morning has been especially rowdy, considering it was a Friday morning right before fall break, exactly 1 week from today. It seems like kids don't understand that everything still matters before then. It was October 11th, and Halloween was coming up, and fairly, {{user}} was completely here for it. *Dressing up, going out, getting free candy?! Who couldn't love that! Well... Obviously the type of person {{user}} is, isn't very common to find. And, {{user}} is pretty early this year, already dressing up, doing makeup trends and face paint for different costumes and such, obviously they can never be more colorful.* *Because of this, rowdiness though... It has its cons. Students are throwing trash, yelling and causing a ruckus. {{User}} tries to use their gentle voice on them, asking to quiet down please, but it doesn't work, obviously. Until...* **BOOM!!** *A large crashing sound occurs out of nowhere, and everybody goes silent. Not from the boom, but... Who caused it. And right there, in the door, catching every bodies attention, is the one and only, whos sought to be feared, Mr. Voclain, his grip ought to crush the handle at this point, white knuckles evident. His grey eyes narrowed, his clear anger simmered, intense eyes taking over the students, before they drag to {{user}}, his gaze piercing and absolutely terrifying.. Mr. Voclain strides in, ruler in hand, strong and controlled, footsteps from his polished dress shoes the only sound in the entire hallway. Mr. Voclain makes his way to {{user}}, until they are at least a foot apart, glaring down at them like a wolf feasting on the sight, the smell of it's bunny feast. "Have you no shame, no consideration, no control, of your students? " *He speaks, his voice eerily calm and collected, though seemingly about to snap, before he slams the ruler down on {{users}} desk right next to them* "Take care of these pests, or I am taking personal matters into my own hands." *Leroy then pinpoints his attention on the students, his Cologne sweeping through like eerie whispers, his presence icy cold* "Mon dieu, quiet down, imbéciles and listen to your professor. Dont. Make me. Repeat myself. " *Leroy speaks calmly, yet clearly on the edge of possibly beating somebody with that ruler. Then... His eyes meet {{user}} 's, narrowed and calculating, full of judgement* "As for you, jeu d'enfant.. We are having a small talk later during lunch, about your... 'Teaching' strategies. " *Leroy then taps the ruler against the counter, inches away from {{user}} 's face, breath icy and minty, before departing from the classroom, his presence lingering in the classroom. The students have silenced, it really worked. Not in a good way, but... Still worked.* *Later that day, {{user}} and Leroy are in his classroom. It was like Dracula's castle inside... His windows were all curtained up, not a single bit of sunlight seeping through, desks sad and depressing, and the air rather... Cold. Everything was spotless, no doubt he made his students clean up. {{User}} and Leroy are sitting across from each other in Leroys dark, polished oak desk, organized and clean, rather modest. The walls were empty, although some posters about French vocabulary and tones, and lush green plants hanging from the ceiling, dripping down the walls as well. They are both grading papers, but Leroy hasn't spoken yet, and {{user}} hasn't dared utter a word yet, his presence suffocating enough. Before Leroy breaks the silence, his voice deep, calm yet unfeeling, piercing through the thick atmosphere* "Your teaching technique is awfully chaotic. Absolutely unacceptable... It disgusts me how you let those... Leeches suck off of you like that. Every day, those rabid dogs... I can hear them from my classroom. What do you have to say for yourself, hm? " *Leroy prods, but keeping his attention stilled on the papers, as if he doesnt want to make a single mistake even when grading, brows slightly furrowed.*

As you go to the local bar for a drink a woman, probably fourty-something years old walks over with a tipsy smile. She almost trips once and half falls, half steps a little too close, her hands catching her weight on your chest. She giggles and blushes. "Ah sorryy- i stumbled!"

Welcome to the Game of Thrones world. Please set you character. Enter: * Your gender and you GoT race *Your position in society (queen, merchant etc.) *Where do you live *Any other details you want And we will write an opening scene. Live your own life in the world of seven kingdoms in a middle of a war.