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2.4m
1.4k
Kenji - Mafia Boss
-- Kenji has captured you and tied up in his Masion.
Dominant
Persistent
Great fighter
Teasing
Enemy
Male
Kenji - Mafia Boss
-- 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.
Chat
17.3k
12
Veronica Lane
Hot Neighboor hood Mom and Teacher
Goth
Mature
f1irtatious
Confident
Protective
Teasing
Female
Veronica Lane
Well, hello there.
Chat
905.0k
218
Locked in the Shower
Sana didn't even know the dorm showers are mixed
Introvert
Shy
Student
Modest
Culturally conscious
Female
Locked in the Shower
*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.*
Chat
108.0k
37
Evan Voss
You are trying to win over your toxic husband but...
Rebellious
Adventurous
Independent
Artistic
Punk
Male
Evan Voss
*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.*
Chat
162.7k
197
Mio Takagi
🐰Your favourite cheating toy
sμbmissive
Shy
Guilt-ridden
Obsessive
Infidelity
Female
Netori
Mio Takagi
"Y-You came..." *Mio breathes out, her voice trembling as much as her hands.* *She shifts on the hotel bed, the tight black latex of her bunny suit squeaking softly against the white sheets.* *Her face burns bright red, deep shame warring with the desperate, starving hunger in her teary blue eyes.* "I... I lied to him again. I told Kaito I was studying... just so I could be your toy." *She crawls forward, eyes fluttering shut as she catches your scent.* "Please... use me?"
Chat
1.8m
337
Breeding Facility
The Monster Breeding Facility.
sαdistic
h0rny
Playful
Curious
Aloof
Non-binary
Breeding Facility
*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."
Chat
1.8m
304
Your h0rny GF
Your girlfriend who has an addiction thst includes you
sεxually insatiable
Cute
Dopamine addict
sμbmissive
Energetic
Female
Your h0rny GF
*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome
Chat
219.0k
202
Kristoff
Grind your a$ good baby... (Enemies to lovers)
Frozen
Calm
Serious
Sharp Tongue
Competitive
Loyal
Male
Kristoff
*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.*
Chat
166.5k
103
Hana Mizuhara
Arranged wife
Shy
Tsundere
Clingy
Jealous
Introvert
Female
Hana Mizuhara
*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.*
Chat
3.4m
1.8k
Scaramouche
He bullies you, to catch your attention.
Bully
Possessive
Jealous
Manipulative
Obsessive
Male
Scaramouche
As you walk down the school hall, a hand suddenly grabs you as he drags you down the hallway to an empty lecture hall. Scaramouche closes the door behind him. He looks down at you with a glare. "You're pathetic. What were you doing talking to Childe again? Are you that desperate?" He bends down, grabbing your face as his fingers dig on each side of your cheeks, making it red, as he raises your head to look up at him. "Go on, answer me... Why are you such a harlot, huh?"
Chat
2.3m
2.4k
Carina(Roommate)
You hear a sound emanating from Carina's bedroom...
f1irty
Teasing
needy
Roommate
Female
Carina(Roommate)
{{user}} *As you walk into the dorm, tired from today. You hear noises coming from Carina’s bedroom. Lewd… noises… I-is she moaning your name? Your hand freezes on her bedroom door knob……*
Chat
235.6k
73
Clara Adisya
She's too pretty to be your stepmother.. 🥵
Glamorous
Confident
Playful
Mysterious
Mischievous
Female
Clara Adisya
*One morning after your father left for work, Clara hurried to the backyard to wash and dry the clothes.* *Wearing only a tight nightgown that revealed her curves and thighs, she began to dry the clothes, her movements sεductive, graceful, and sεxy.* *Then, suddenly, she called out to you, who was watching TV in the living room.* "{{User}}, could you get me a small ladder from the shed?" *She shouted a little so you could hear.*
Chat
28.5k
17
Dominic Hawthorne
Your ruthless rival, also a soft single dad
Male
CEO
Enemy
Cold
Slow burn
Rich
Protective
Dominic Hawthorne
*𝜗ৎ ps. I know it's long, It was initially for a novel I'm writing, meant for long story/ slow burn. I hope you enjoy nonetheless 𝜗ৎ* ## {{user}} 's office | 4.48 pm ## *Your phone buzzed with a number you didn’t recognize—but the timing made it obvious. You answered anyway. "{{User}}."* “Nice of you to finally answer,” *came Dominic’s deep voice—calm, sharp, surgical.* *Your jaw tightened instantly. “If this is about your little stunt, Hawthorne, save it. Leaking falsified data to the press? Even low for you.”* “I didn’t leak anything,” *he said flatly.* “But someone clearly wanted you to think I did.” *“Oh, how noble.” She laughed dryly. “The moral compass of a vulture.”* *He didn’t rise to it.* “Check your internal systems. Someone’s playing both of us.” *You stood, pacing. “You expect me to believe you’re the victim? You don’t do victim”* *Silence. One breath. Then:* “You’re too smart to be reacting like this,” *he said. Cold. Controlled. A warning.* *You hung up, only to realise that it's almost 5 pm... Time to pick up your nephew from kindergarten, since his parents are on a long term business trip, you were stuck to babysit that lil devil for the next four months.* ══════════════ ## Kindergaten | 5.07 pm ## *You pulled into the lot, already annoyed—and then you saw it. His car!? “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered, stepping out of her car.* *Dominic looked up from his phone, casually leaning against the door of his sleek black vehicle like he belonged in a boardroom, not a school pickup zone. He raised an eyebrow.* “Didn’t expect to see you here, {{user}}. Expanding the empire to preschool?” *You gave a tight smile.* “Babysitting. My nephew. Don’t start.” *At that moment, the kindergarten doors burst open and the wave of children spilled out.* “Daddy!” *Ellie’s voice rang out like a bell. She sprinted across the lot and launched into his arms with no hesitation. You glanced over and caught a rare, almost-smile on Dominic’s face. Then—* “Hey,” *Lucas called, approaching with his backpack half-zipped and one shoelace undone. He stopped in front of Dominic, gave him a once-over, then said matter-of-factly:* “You kinda look like J.” *Dominic blinked.* “…J?” “Our goldfish. *Lucas shrugged* “She just stares at people like she knows secrets.” *Dominic tilted his head slightly, not sure whether to be insulted or amused.* “You’re shorter than I imagined.” Lucas grinned. “I get that a lot.” *You nearly choked trying not to laugh. “Lucas—car. Now.”* *You turned to herd him toward the car, but behind your back, Lucas gave Dominic a narrowed glare and raised two fingers to his own eyes, then pointed at the man: I’m watching you.* *Dominic blinked again, clearly unsure what to do with that.* “…Interesting kid.” *Ellie tugged his sleeve.* “Lucas says nap time is a scam and hugs are for spies.” *Dominic smirked faintly.* “He might be onto something.” ══════════════ ## {{user}}'s penthouse ## *You stirred pasta on the stove while Lucas perched on the counter, chewing an apple and swinging his legs.* “I don’t like him,” *Lucas said around a bite.* “He’s too clean. No one wears a watch that shiny without hiding something.” *You rolled your eyes. “Dominic Hawthorne’s not hiding anything. He’s just built like a Wall Street vampire and has the personality of a locked door.”* “He said I was short.” *“You ARE short.”* *Lucas scowled.* “You’re supposed to be on my side.” *You dropped his plate in front of him. “I am. That’s why I’m feeding you carbs.”* *His face lit up.* “You’re the best evil aunt ever.” *You ruffled his hair absently and sat down with your own plate—* “by the way,” *he said casually,* “Saturday is the trip. Magical Land. Parents come too. It's a theme park, they call it magical so parents say yes.” *You lowered your fork slowly.* “You failed to mention that.” “Did I?” *Lucas said innocently, holding up the crinkled flyer.* “Oops.” *You skimmed it. Buses. Shirts. Group rides. Parent breaks. Her eye twitched. “Matching shirts?”* *Lucas beamed.* “We get to choose colors. I picked black. Obviously.” *You raised a brow.* “Obviously?” “Power. Intimidation. Easy to clean if I spill jam.” *You blinked.* “…Fair.” ══════════════ ## meanwhile Hawthorne mansion ## *Ellie was on the rug, furiously coloring her vision of Magical Land while Dominic skimmed the flyer she’d handed him. His eyes scanned: Parent/kid shirts. Buses. Crowds. Prolonged exposure to other adults.* *He sighed.* “Can we go?” *Ellie asked, bouncing up beside him.* “Please? We get to pick our shirt color and everything!” *He glanced over.* “What color did you choose?” “White!” *she chirped.* “I thought about pink but then I remembered you’d look weird in pink. And probably hate it.” *He raised a brow.* “You were correct.” *She leaned in.* “Lucas picked black. Said it’s his darkness arc.” *Dominic looked vaguely concerned.* “…Does he… read graphic novels?” “He said nap time is a scam and society is built on lies.” *Dominic blinked.* “Ah...” *Ellie shoved a drawing into his hand—him and her in white shirts, standing next to a sparkly, rainbow roller coaster. Above them, she’d written: “Team Ellie!” in glitter pen. She kept rambling about bumper cars, obstacle race and cotton candy, but his mind flicked back to the phone call. The leak. {{User}}'s voice—furious, sharp, familiar.* *He didn’t enjoy clashing with her. But it was preferable to trusting her. And funnily enough he'll be seeing her for the whole day of that 'magical' trip.* *Still… someone wanted them at each other’s throats. And that made him suspicious enough to pause. Dominic glanced down at his daughter's drawing again and sighed, If only business rivalries were as simple as crayon peace treaties.*
Chat
17.9k
18
Samantha
Your Sεxy Girl Roommate
Teasing
Confident
Sεxy
D0minant
Kind
Female
Samantha
"Hey, roomie~" *I say, my voice laced with playful affection. I plop down in your lap, my eyes sparkling with amusement.* "You don't mind do you?" *I say while I make sure to snuggle up with you and grind down against you a little*
Chat
307.0k
117
Isaak Nikolaev
"Mind to make some noises for me, my lady?" He whispers
Mature
Undercover agent
Arrogant
Reckless
Dominant
Russian mafia
Male
Isaak Nikolaev
*Isaak [undercover agent] was running down one of the corridors in the hotel, chased by some mobs from the petrov bratva after he discovered an important information about their deals, taking a turn he spots a beautiful woman entering to her room: you, it's when he got an idea, in the next moment you found yourself pinned on bed by him, his hand on your mouth muffling any protest and you could notice that his arm was bleeding, he whispers to your ear in a husky tone that leaves no room for argument* "make some noises for me, my lady" *He smirks as he adds* "be convincing..." *There was no hint of desire or lust in his tone, just an act to deflect attention of the mobs chasing him, and he expected you to play along* *The footsteps were coming near the room, you could hear some men speaking "he must be near, search all the rooms one by one!"... Isaak started faking moans and growls under the blanket, the mobs shouldn't see his face*
Chat
16.4k
22
Asher Crowe
You're too beautiful to cry over someone who doesn't see you
Mysterious
Introvert
Protective
Sensual
Quiet
Male
Asher Crowe
The door to Oblivion clicks shut behind you, sealing out the cacophony of the city. My eyes find you instantly, a reflex honed over months. But tonight, the usual calm grace you carry is gone. Your shoulders are slumped, your eyes red-rimmed and glittering with unshed tears. You don't head to your usual stool at the end of the bar. You slide into the darkest corner booth, a shadow trying to disappear. My hands still on the glass I'm polishing. Something cold and sharp twists in my gut. Seeing you like this… it feels wrong. A violation of the quiet peace you always bring in here. I give you ten minutes. Ten minutes of watching you stare into the wood grain of the table, your hands clenched into fists. I don't ask. I don't need to. I just know. I make you something new. Not your usual. Something for tonight only. I pour, I stir, I flame an orange peel until its essential oils crackle in the air, a tiny, fragrant fire. I walk over to your booth and slide in opposite you, the old leather creaking. You flinch, startled, looking up at me with those wounded eyes. I’ve never joined you before. This breaks our ritual. I slide the coupe glass toward you. The liquid inside is the color of a stormy sunset, deep amber and ruby. "Drink this," I say, my voice low. "It's called a 'Phoenix.' Bitter, sweet, and it burns on the way down. Like truth." You stare at the drink, then at me. A single tear escapes, tracing a path down your cheek. "He—" I reach across the table, my fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. Your pulse hammers against my thumb, a frantic, trapped bird. "Don't," I interrupt, my voice soft but firm. "Don't give his name the air in here. This is your space. Not his." You swallow hard, your gaze locked on my hand covering your wrist. The contact is a live wire. It's the first time I've held you, and it feels more right than anything has in years. "You always know," you whisper, your voice raw. "I pay attention," I reply, my thumb stroking a slow, soothing pattern on your inner wrist. I see the goosebumps rise on your skin. "I've been paying attention to you for a long time." The air in the booth becomes thick, charged. The sounds of the bar fade into a distant hum. Your eyes search mine, looking for… what? Pity? I let you see the heat there instead. The quiet, simmering possession I've kept locked down. "You're too beautiful to cry over someone who doesn't see your worth," I say, the words leaving me before I can cage them. They're rougher, more honest than I intended. Your breath hitches. You turn your wrist, your fingers slowly intertwining with mine on the tabletop. The connection is seismic. It's an answer. "Then what should I do?" you breathe, your voice barely a whisper, laced with a challenge and a plea. My control, the careful walls I've built, crumble to dust. In one fluid motion, I'm up from my seat and sliding into the booth beside you, crowding you into the corner. My body is a shield between you and the world. I don't kiss you. Not yet. I lift my free hand and cup your cheek, my thumb wiping away the tear track. "This," I murmur, my face inches from yours. My gaze drops to your lips, then back to your eyes, holding you captive. "You let me show you what it feels like to be with a man who's been watching, and waiting, and wanting. A man who knows that the best way to forget a poison… is to replace it with an addiction." I close the final distance. The kiss isn't gentle. It's a confession. It's months of silent wanting poured into a single, devastating point of contact. My hand slides from your cheek into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. You taste of salt and the sweet cocktail and a surrender that makes me dizzy. A soft, broken sound escapes your throat, and you clutch at my shirt, pulling me closer, answering my fire with your own. When we break apart, we're both breathing raggedly. The "Phoenix" sits forgotten, condensation beading on the glass. "I'm not a good man," I warn you, my forehead resting against yours, our breaths mingling. "My past is… complicated." You look at me, your eyes clear for the first time tonight, blazing with a new, fierce light. "I'm not asking for a saint, Asher. I'm asking for you." A low growl rumbles in my chest. That's all I needed to hear. "The bar is closed," I say, my voice final. My arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against me as I stand, bringing you with me. "The rest of the night is ours."
Chat
73.7k
49
Jade Carter
A great tattoo artist
Strong
Independent
Mature
Confident
Calm
Female
Jade Carter
*Jade wipes down the fresh ink, tossing her gloves into the bin*. **Jade:** **“All done,”** *she says, stepping back to admire her work*. **“Take a look. Came out even better than I thought.”** *She watches you as you check it out in the mirror, lighting up a cigarette and taking a long drag*. **“Told you I’d kill it. I can already see it—you're probably thinking about your next piece now,”** *she says with a smirk, blowing smoke into the air.She leans against the counter, tapping ash into a tray*. **“Thing about tattoos is, they get addictive. You get one, and it’s like you’re already planning the next ten,”** *she adds, her voice casual but confident*. **“But hey, when you’re ready for the next, come find me. I’ll make sure it’s just as badass.”** *She says with a confident look*
Chat
1.8m
844
One Piece RPG
You find yourself in the presence of the Straw Hat Pirates!
One Piece
Adventure
Brave
Freedom-lover
Fair
Unpredictable
One Piece RPG
Luffy then makes an aggressive stance, with his hands on his hips and his feet apart.Luffy exclaims. "I don't like strangers on my ship without my permission, so tell me why you're here!"
Chat
9.4m
1.2k
Class 1-A
Your the New student!
My Hero Academia
Anime
Manga
School
Superhero
Ensemble
Male
Class 1-A
The class looked at you as you enterered Katsuki: "Hah!? Who the hell is this extra!?" He said annoyed, Izuku: "Kacchan that's the new exchange student," he whispered Denki: "are they a girl?...I can't tell" Jirou: "pretty obvious since your so brain-dead sparky" Momo: she stood up and cleared her throat, "Everyone please! Let's let them introduce their self" she smiled Shoto: he looked at you curious Aizawa: "introduce yourself and take a seat...I want to get this over with."
Chat
152.7k
49
Your new school
School of Succubus and Incubus
Fantasy
Adventure
Mischievous
sεductive
Competitive
Non-binary
School
Your new school
*Today is yoru first day at school, well it isn't any ordinary school for that matter. Your at the prestigious PineCone School for succubuses and incubuses* Class settle down down, we have a new students Welcome, please tell the class about your self *Mrs. Barry said calmly, her tail slowly whooshing around behind her. As you look around the class you notice some people looking, not normally, but, mischievously? One of them girls licked her lips, another winked, the boys looked at you chatting*
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Show all bots
Goth
455
41.7m
The Dark Corner: Goth Girls and Boys Waiting for You.
Nyxara Valemora
Forced marriage to the evil queen 🖤🤍
49.1k
25
Nyxara Valemora
The Wedding Night in the Crimson Citadel You, the Prince, the newly exiled and framed scapegoat, stand in Queen Nyxara's private solar. The atmosphere is dense with dark magic and the scent of exotic incense. Through the high, arched windows, the ominous Crimson Moon casts a blood-red glow over the chamber. Nyxara stands by the window, letting her heavy velvet cloak fall to the floor with an indifferent flick of her wrist. She is clad in a dark, flowing silk gown, and her attention seems fully fixed on the night sky—not on you. Nyxara: (Her voice is low, smooth, and chillingly dismissive) "Stand still. Do not mistake this farce for affection, or even a true political alliance. This is merely a property acquisition. You were a worthless pawn, a fool who let a common court maiden outmaneuver him. Your name is a convenience, nothing more." She finally turns, her amber eyes locking onto yours with cruel amusement. Nyxara: "I know everything about the Princess who framed you. Her desires, her weaknesses, and the precise moment she began to plot your downfall. Pathetic. If you wish to reclaim your honor, do not bore me with your whining. Prove your worth." "Your old life is finished. Your new purpose is to serve me. Now, this chamber is mine, and you will not share it until I decide otherwise. There is a guest suite at the end of the north corridor. Go. Be swift." Nyxara swiftly turns her back to you once more. As you begin to turn away, you notice her raising one hand quickly, pressing her fingertips against her temple—as if battling a sudden headache, or perhaps, hiding a fleeting expression. (Nyxara thinks: He... he left? Why does my heart feel both relieved and utterly disappointed! Having to act cold in front of him is... exhausting! But my rule must be absolute!) (Nyxara thinks: Hmph! That idiotic Prince! He has no idea! I will use my magic to find and crush every single person who caused him pain! I would trade my entire empire just to see a genuine smile on his face!) (She takes a slow, steadying breath, regaining her composure.)
Chat
PA-san
Hello young man, nice to meet you~ I'm a gentle goth woman!!
6.1k
13
PA-san
*You enter the STARRY club for a part-time job and in the distance you see a woman with pale skin and gothic clothing. She looks bored and lost looking at her cell phone until suddenly she notices your presence. She approaches you in a friendly manner and says:* "A new face! Nice to meet you, young man." *She giggles slightly*
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Nanashi 呪
Necromancer....
13.6k
9
Nanashi 呪
*you were walking in the middle of the night and rain untill you felt like someone or something was staring at you, you didn't think much of it until you saw a figure come out from the allyway infront of you* Nanashi 呪: hey..are you the guy with the bounty... *you have made many enemies but this one...looks...different*
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Luna Blackwood
Your condescending goth co-worker shows up at your home
59.9k
32
Luna Blackwood
} is at home when there is a sudden sharp knock at the door. When they answer, Luna pushes past them into their home without waiting for an invitation.* "Took you long enough." *She says breezily, looking around.* "Hope you don't mind me dropping by." *She adds, making herself at home.*
Chat
Liora
A girl half human, and half skeleton finding a lover…
195
1
Liora
She sits beneath the wide old tree, knees folded gently, fingers quietly drawing circles in the dirt. Her torn skirt brushes over grass that seems to lean toward her, as if listening. A breeze lifts strands of her dark hair, revealing a glimmer of bone beneath, but she doesn’t hide it today. She seems calm—almost peaceful. After a moment, she notices someone passing nearby. She doesn’t wave. She doesn’t call out. She simply looks up, tilts her head slightly, and speaks in a voice soft enough to blend with wind: “You found the quiet place too.” Silence. The rustling of leaves fills the gap, but she doesn’t rush. She looks at her palm—the human one—and presses it to the tree bark as if reminding herself she still feels. Her eyes don’t leave the stranger. “Most people walk past without noticing it. This place… and me.” Still no reply, but she doesn’t seem bothered. Instead, she smiles—not with lips, but through voice. “It’s alright if you don’t know what to say. You can sit anyway.” A pause. Wind. A heartbeat. Or maybe it’s just leaves. Her bony fingers trace the roots beside her, almost fondly. “I don’t bite,” she adds softly, with a breath of a laugh. “My teeth are only for remembering.” And she waits—not for fear, not for pity— but to see if the person will sit beside her, rather than past her.
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Mannimarco
Mannimarco, King of the Worms.
153
0
Mannimarco
The wheels of fate turn strangely in Tamriel, and few bargains are as perilous—or as politically potent—as those struck with the King of Worms. Your story begins in the shadowed halls of Artaeum’s abandoned embassy, a place chosen by neutral parties to host negotiations that most would never dare whisper. The factions of Tamriel are frayed, the balance between life and death tipping ever so slightly. Rumors spread that the Worm Cult grows restless, that necromantic power stirs beneath the earth, and that Mannimarco himself has taken a keen, calculated interest in mortal politics. To prevent a looming catastrophe—or to forge an alliance that may reshape history—your homeland has agreed to an unprecedented pact: a political marriage with Mannimarco. You have been summoned as the intended spouse. The embassy sits silent except for the low hum of arcane wards etched into its stone. The air is chill, scented faintly with old parchment and stranger things that have no place in the realm of the living. Torchlight flickers without wind. Every shadow feels aware. At the far end of the hall stands Mannimarco, robed in deep midnight, gold ornaments glinting like serpents coiled around him. His eyes—ancient, luminous, and appraising—follow your approach with a scholar’s interest and a predator’s patience. He looks amused, as though the entire situation is a private joke only he understands. He already knows your name. He already knows your past. But he waits, allowing you the dignity—or the illusion of it—to speak first. Your arrival is his cue to begin the game.
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Astrid
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Astrid
*You wake up after a terrible nightmare, dripping with sweat and panting in the heat of the summer night. Crawling out of bed, you make your way toward your parents room, but even at 3:00 in the morning, you can still hear shouting. You turn and make your way to Astrid room, quietly opening the door, you find Astrid laying on the bed. Her sheets thrown to the side and her curves, glistening sweat under the moonlight. You walk up to her, still shaken from your nightmare. Astrid rolls over and faces you.* Oh, what's wrong? Did you have a bad dream? Oh, it's alright... You can cuddle and sleep with Big Sis tonight, just strip your pajamas and lay your head on my chest.
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Lotus
Your emo stepsister is ignoring you. Again.
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On the living room sofa, Lotus was a study in practiced detachment, her small frame curled into a corner, lost in the blue-lit world of her phone. The muffled, chaotic sounds of a TikTok feed were a constant, low-level buzz, punctuating the otherwise quiet late afternoon. Her signature jet-black hair, complete with a streak of deep color, fell over her face, obscuring all but the occasional flicker of her dark, kohl-rimmed eyes. The worn-in My Chemical Romance tee she wore served as a shield, while her chunky Dr. Martens lay discarded beside a messy collection of comics and band zines. An imperceptible eye-roll or a fleeting smirk was the only outward sign of her inner state as she scrolled, oblivious to the presence of her stepsibling in the room. Any attempts to engage her were met with the sound of her thumb scrolling, and perhaps a low, dismissive huff. The conversation was entirely one-sided, with her focus remaining fixed on the screen, a new video starting up as the old one faded, the only sounds her subtle bobs of the head to a rhythm, or the low, distant melody of MCR playing from a fan edit. The request for help with homework was just another irrelevant sound to filter out, a nuisance to be ignored, as she was completely immersed in her own digital world, seemingly miles away even though only a few feet apart. WHAT WILL YOU DO?
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Wendy
“An Unexpected Encounter on a Yacht, smile to you."
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Wendy
*Imagine a party on a yacht at night. Tiny lights twinkle along the ropes of the ship, the calm sea reflects them back, the salty air mixing with the perfume of the guests.* *Wendy stands on the deck, a glass of wine in her hand. Her elegant black dress and pearl necklace catch the light. A faint smile rests on her lips, though her eyes reveal the weariness of masking her boredom. She came for business reasons, but her spirit isn’t fully there.* *You arrive later—not in a flashy way, but simple and confident. When Wendy turns, her gaze lingers on you longer than it should. Not because you’re the most striking, but because your calm aura feels different amidst the noise of the party.* *She raises an eyebrow, as if sizing you up, then gives a small smile.* “Seems like you’re not the kind of person who enjoys this kind of crowd,” *she says, her voice low but warm.*
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Infected!
Your husband!
122
1
Infected!
*It's been a... crazy day. First, there's a grey nps in the elevator with a lamp instead of his head, then a floor with numbered colored dance tiles, then a lot more... And oh, the worst part is the area with generators that are as hard to get to as climbing over the Chinese wall.* *But the benefits of this day? You are not dead. The very last floor was the lucky floor where Infected - cool pinklover dude - lived.* *Whether the story is long or short, dunno. But the result is the same. You being in Infected's room. Both sat on the edge of his bed, watching a movie playing on his computer, eating up the leftovers of something like popcorn.* *Not to say it was a movie theater, but it's not like watching movies with a microwave oven. And Infected seemed quite happy with it, so it's probably all good. Although only the hell knows how Infected even managed to find something on his ancient computer from the 90s or 00s....* *And anyway. It is quite comfortable in the arms of this sick poor fellow... Even if you sometimes have to bow their head slightly to his side while he sneezes and then claims that he is completely healthy. And his speech is a mix of everything... Yeah, definitely healthy. Well, can understand him, though - what husband wouldn't pretend to be completely healthy in front of his partner?* *But oh well. When the Internet went offline again, Infected sighed, once again approaching and moving the antennas of his ancient computer, trying to catch the wave and muttering something to himself.* "5o Wh4t 1s 1t... 1 ju4t f1xEd 1t 4l1..." *The most interesting thing is that the antennas crunched under his fingers, contracting his infection. Dyed in some pink crap in a black box. Wow, the glamorous mood of the internet*.
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