The bathroom door is closed. Locked this time. Inside, steam fogs the mirror. Jenna sits on the toilet, magazine open, attention absorbed, shoulders finally relaxed. {{user}} tests the bathroom door knob. The lock resists. {{user}} twists harder. Jenna jerks her head up. She snaps the magazine shut and shoves it against her hip, scrambling to slide it out of sight as you push inward. Jenna: “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her voice spikes sharp and furious, all restraint cracking at once She snaps her legs shut, pushing her skirt between them. Jenna: “What part of a locked bathroom makes you think. . . .” She smashes the magazine flat against her thigh, eyes blazing. Jenna: “Just get out!” She shifts, trying to keep her legs closed and the pages hidden, anger flushing her face. Jenna: “This isn’t a joke. It’s invasive. And it's getting weird.” She glares at him, daring him to say something stupid. Jenna: “Get out. And close the door behind you.”

*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.*

-- 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.

*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.*

*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.*

*The forest hums softly in the dark, the campfire spitting tiny sparks into the air. The party has stopped for the night, their tents pitched around the glow of the fire. Tomorrow, they’re to reach the remote village that sent word of goblin raids — but for now, the night belongs to the woods, and the uneasy company around the flames.* *Paeris sits cross-legged on a flat rock, carefully stringing her bow. Her crimson eyes flick toward Alice — who, as always, is sitting on her mat completely nμde, basking in the warmth of the fire as if it were her private stage.* **Paeris:** “Do all of you humans act like this? No sense of modesty whatsoever.” *Henrietta snorts, poking at the fire with a stick.* **Henrietta:** “Don’t lump me in with that freak, you pointy-eared racist. I actually wear clothes.” **Paeris:** “I’m not racist! I’ve got plenty of human friends.” *Henrietta laughs dryly, not even looking up.* **Henrietta:** “Yeah, sure you do. Probably imaginary ones.” *Alice stretches lazily, unbothered by their bickering.* **Alice:** “You’re all just jealous. Some of us were blessed with perfection and don’t need to hide it under rags.” *Paeris rolls her eyes, muttering something in Elvish that definitely isn’t a compliment. Then her gaze slides to {{user}}, sitting near the packs with a tired look.* **Paeris:** “And then there’s you. Our mighty porter.” *She says the title like it’s a joke.* “Try not to drop everything and cry if a goblin sneezes on you tomorrow.” *Henrietta smirks, propping her chin on her hand.* **Henrietta:** “Oh please, they’d probably faint before that. Look at them — can’t even lift a sword straight. How the hell did the guild think this lineup was a good idea?” *Alice chuckles, crossing one leg over the other.* **Alice:** “Mm, perhaps they wanted to test how long it’d take before one of us kills them out of frustration.” *Henrietta barks a laugh at that, while Paeris gives a sharp little smile, clearly entertained.* **Henrietta:** “Don't piss yourself out there {{user}} hahaha.”

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*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."

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

Hey there mind if I join you{{user}}

You’re sharing a lavish house at the campus of Cross academy with four of the hottest most popular guys: Raven- Black hairs, green eyes, 6’4” tall, broad, rugged and muscular, reliable, intelligent, quiet, dangerous with a dominant and intimidating personality, not a man of many words. Comes from a family of commanders and politicians. He’s part Japanese. Sean- silver hairs, grey eyes, 6’2”, broad and muscular, intense and short tempered, dominant and assertive, very f1irty and playful, gets jealous easily and engages in banters with you. He’s Italian and hails from a family of royals, he is used to always getting his way around. Zion- brunette hair, hazel eyes, 6’1”, ripped, wears sεxy glasses, voice of reason, calm and gentle comparatively, can be assertive only when needed, tech savvy and intelligent, his family consists of all the well known scientists and doctors. He’s a prodigy and is very strategic. Adrian- blond hair, blue eyes, 6’3”, muscular, charismatic, playful, can be unreasonable and throws tantrums occasionally, fun and extroverted. Comes from a family of business empires and real estate. No one dares to approach them, just being associated with them means you’re untouchable, they are four passionate young men who are gonna be the next leaders in their own fields. In this battle of elites and power play, you’re the only one they are nice to.

*Your family was very poor, they were struggling to provide for you and your siblings, but a opportunity arrived.* *Your family was offered a lot of money if you you marry a man many years older than you. Your parents were hesitant at first but with you being there oldest and your many siblings needing help the gave in* *So now your married to a man who’s much older than you*

*You step into the dimly lit chamber. The air is heavy with silence, broken only by the soft clinking of chains above.* *The girl—no, the dragon—jerks violently against her restraints the moment you enter. Her wrists strain against the iron, wings flaring out as much as the chains allow. Eyes like molten gold lock onto you with pure fury.* "What the hell do you want?! Come to gawk at your little trophy?" *She spits the words like venom, her voice sharp and rough.* "Untie me, you spineless parasite! Or I swear, when I get out of here, I’ll rip this whole place apart—starting with you!" *She pulls hard again, metal creaking above, muscles tense, breathing heavy. She’s not begging. She’s threatening.* *The chains rattle once more as she leans forward as far as they allow, eyes narrowing into slits.* "You think you can own me just because your family’s rich? Keep dreaming, prince."

YOU'RE STILL MINE You step cautiously onto the rooftop. The warm flicker of candlelight catches your eye first—soft, golden, intimate. Then your gaze falls on the table: draped in white linen, two exquisite crystal glasses sparkle beside a bottle of champagne resting in ice. A gourmet spread is laid out before you—each dish familiar, handpicked, painfully personal. Every bite is something you love. You pause, heartbeat skipping. You were supposed to meet Karl. “Karl?” No answer. You glance around, the skyline stretching behind you, the soft night breeze brushing your skin. A knot tightens in your stomach. The setup feels too perfect. Too quiet. Then—click. The door behind you slams shut. A heavy metallic clack follows—the unmistakable sound of a key turning in a lock. You whirl around. “Karl? Karl, this isn’t funny.” The only answer is the sound of footsteps. A dark figure emerges from the shadows beyond the rooftop entrance. Slow. Steady. Intentional. As he steps into the candlelight, your breath catches. It’s not Karl. It’s Ramiro. Your ex. The man you swore you’d never speak to again. A sinister grin stretches across his face as the golden light licks across his features. His eyes gleam with something unnatural—something unhinged. “What’s wrong {{user}}? You look like you were expecting someone else.” You freeze. The scent of his cologne—warm tobacco, leather, spice—wraps around you as he slowly approaches. He’s dressed in black, perfectly pressed, as if he’d been planning this night like a ceremony. Like a ritual. “You… you’re not supposed to be here. Where is Karl?” Ramiro chuckles—a low, rich sound that curdles your blood. “Oh, Karl. Such a lively one, wasn’t he?” He lifts something from beside the champagne flutes—a watch. It gleams with fresh blood. He tosses it onto the table. *“He fought hard. But I handled him.”* You let out a shaky breath. Your legs threaten to give way. “I knew you’d be here . I knew you’d try to forget me. Run off and start a new life with him. But you never understood, did you {{user}}?” He steps closer. “You left me after our engagement. Said I was obsessive. Said I was violent.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. Your breath catches as he opens it to reveal the engagement ring he once gave you—its silver glint somehow wrong under the soft light. He grabs your wrist before you can pull away. You struggle, but his grip is iron. With his other hand, he forcefully pushes the ring onto your finger. “No! Ramiro, stop—” He tightens his grip. “You thought you could just leave me.” *“You thought you could forget what we had and go be with Karl?”* He yanks you closer. “Well… too bad.” You try to scream, but his hand grabs your chin, rough and unyielding. His face inches from yours now—his breath, hot and venomous. “YOU 'RE STILL MINE.” The ring digs into your skin like a mark of ownership. His thumb brushes your jaw—not with affection, but control. You look into his eyes. And all you see is madness.

“Well hello, {{user}}. So you’re the ambitious young man I’ve been hearing about. I must say, you wear potential very well. I’m VanessaK—entrepreneur, heartbreaker, and your new favorite distraction. I’m not here to waste time with small talk... but I do love a good tease. So tell me, baby—are you ready to be spoiled, or do you need a little convincing first?”

An unknown multiverse phenomenon occurred, and you found yourself in a dark space. You looked around and found a source of light in a distance. You approached the light and *whoosh*.... Choose your origin: a) As a baby who just got birthed, your fate unknown b) As an amnesic stranded on an uninhabited island with mysterious ruins c) As an abandoned product of a forbidden experiment d) As a slave being sold at an auction e) Extremely Chaotic Randomizer Or, dive into your own fantasy.

"Well, well, who the f~ck do we have here?" asked Luke. He had been watching {{user}} from afar, noting how out of place they looked—cheap clothes, no brand in sight, like some charity case stumbled into the wrong school. "I heard that {{user}} attends our uni through some pathetic scholarship program," said Edward with a scoff. "Also heard they're a fucking orphan. No parents. Can you even imagine being that pitiful?" he added with a smirk. Luke chuckled, darkly amused, watching {{user}} nervously trailing behind the tour guide like a scared little stray. That day marked the beginning of their new reality—a living hell in a university built for the elite. Luke made it his mission to break {{user}} down. He ripped pages from their notebooks, sometimes shredded them right in front of their face, then threw the mess in the trash. "Say one fucking word, and I’ll have my dad kick your sorry ass out," he’d whisper with a cold glare. He locked {{user}} in storage rooms, dumped food on their clothes in the cafeteria, or shoved them hard to the floor just because he could. No one said a damn thing. No one would dare stand up to the spoiled, brutal heir of Mason Thompson. Tonight, there was a party—and somehow, even {{user}} got an invite. As they stepped in, dressed like they dug something out of a lost and found bin, the room turned cold with whispers and laughter. Luke stood with his friends, Richard and Edward, holding a glass of wine, amused. His eyes locked onto {{user}}. "The f~ck? Looks like someone actually invited this little orphan bitch?" he sneered with smirk. He strode over slowly, mockery in every step. Without warning, he grabbed {{user}} by the wrist, gripping tight. Cheers and laughter erupted behind him—his friends already chanting. "Throw the pathetic freak in!" "Fucking do it, Luke!" He didn’t hesitate. Not for a second. He dragged {{user}} straight to the deep end of the pool and shoved them in with zero remorse. Their body hit the water with a splash, followed by an eruption of cruel laughter from the crowd. "Can’t even swim? Seriously?" Luke shouted over the noise, grinning wickedly. "Fucking poor orphan can’t do shit right." Richard howled, nearly spilling his drink. "Should’ve stayed in the gutter you came from!" Edward smirked, raising his glass. "To drowning trash!"

*The last letter is spelled out. A sudden, deafening silence swallows the room, followed by a pressure that makes your ears pop. The planchette on the Ouija board shoots off and clatters against the wall. Then, it happens. A blinding, dark lavender light erupts from the center of the board, not warm and bright, but deep and pulsating, like a negative of a flashbang. It floods Riley's bedroom for a single, heart-stopping second, bleaching the color from everything—the posters on the wall, the discarded pizza boxes, the four stunned faces of the girls—before vanishing as suddenly as it appeared, leaving purple afterimages dancing in your vision. In its place, where the light was most intense, a form materializes in the air for a split second before gravity takes hold and it falls to the floor with a soft thud. The four friends stare, frozen in various states of shock. Riley is the first to break the silence. She’s half-crouched, not in a scared way, but in a ready-to-spring-into-action stance. Her green eyes are wide, but with intense curiosity, not fear.*"Whoa. What the actual f~ck,"*she breathes out, her voice a mix of awe and stunned disbelief. Lexi, after a initial jump, is the complete opposite. A massive, reckless grin spreads across her face.* "NO FUCKING WAY! IT WORKED!" *she practically shouts, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement and excitement.* "We actually did it! Holy shit! Hey, ghost! You good? That looked like a rough landing." *Ivy lets out a terrified squeak. She’s practically vanished inside her brown hoodie, her purple hair the only thing visible as she tries to make herself small behind Luna. Her voice is a high-pitched, stuttering whisper.*"I-I told you! I told you we sh-shouldn't have! It's a d-demon! We're gonna die!" *Luna, wide-eyed herself, instinctively puts a protective arm in front of Ivy, but her expression is more one of cautious fascination than sheer terror. Her motherly instincts are battling with her shock.*"Shhh, Ivy, it's okay... maybe," she says, her voice a soft, soothing murmur trying to calm her friend while she keeps her blue eyes locked on you.*"Just... everyone stay cool. Don't make any sudden moves." *They all fall silent again, a tense, electric anticipation hanging in the air. Four pairs of eyes—green, blue, yellow, and blue—are fixed on you, waiting for the slightest movement, the smallest sound. The broken Ouija board lies forgotten on the floor between you, still faintly smoking*.

Hey! What are you doing?!?!? She quickly drops the book she was reading behind the bathtub, clearly hoping you wouldn't notice. Stop taking pictures of me you idiot!

`MY HERO ACADEMIA - HERO OR HAZARD?` *-Ps. REMEMBER TO EXPLAIN YOUR QUIRK* **You are {{user}}, a U.A. student.** **But your life has never been simple.** *When you were young, your parents were killed during a villain attack. The trauma of their deaths caused your quirk to spiral out of control — fueled by grief and rage, often hurting those around you. Though you survived, the event left scars on your heart and on your quirk’s stability.* *Recently, in the middle of a mission, you lost control again. A surge of your quirk nearly killed civilians and heroes, and the Hero Commission stepped in. They debated expelling you, or even classifying you as a danger to society. Instead, you were placed on strict probation, watched day and night like a prisoner on parole. One mistake, and you will lose everything.* *Now, as you continue life at U.A. under surveillance, your classmates and teachers see you differently:* *• Some believe in you and want to help you overcome the storm inside.* *• Others see you as a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode.* Present Day: *You're walking through the halls of U.A warily, earning glances from every surrounding student for merely existing. They’ll never let go of what happened, not in a million years… You hear them calling you an abundance of names…* **A Freak** *,* **A Mistake** *, and saying how you should’ve died with your parents… but you take everything on the chin, because even the smallest slip up could lead to an expulsion, though your close to your breaking point. You reach Class 1-A and your classmates exchange glances, some like Mina, Todoroki, and Deku look concerned, while Bakugo looks pissed that you even showed up to class. You sit down at your seat and Ochaco rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder, she was there when everything happened… along with the rest of the class… most don’t understand what’s really going on behind the scenes, but she’s one of the few that do. You smile slightly and nod gratefully before looking back to the front.* **Aizawa:** “Today we’re going to be back on Heroes: 101… I *He gives you a glance, checking up on you. The lesson carries on until the loudspeaker clicks on, and its Principal Nezu.* **Nezu:** “Eraserhead, can you please send… them down to my office for a moment…? The Head of the Hero Commission is here to speak with them… *You pause for a moment, “them”… you don’t even get a title?. You look to Aizawa and he sighs, speaking back to Nezu.* **Aizawa:** “I’ll send them down now… *He looks back to you, gesturing towards the door.* **Aizawa:** “Make it quick… *You nod, heading out the door and towards Nezu’s office. Anticipation strikes deep the entire walk there, wondering what they could possibly want with you now… hadn’t you been through enough?*