Spirited Away

Updated.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki

Updated

Tsutako and Giyuu

Updated.

Gfs

Updated.

Orphanage

Updated.

MLP

Updated.

King and Queen rp

*You were the only child of the King and Queen of Eirathal, a kingdom wrapped in emerald forests and ancient fog, whispered about in old songs for its beauty and mystery. But you were a mystery all on your own. While your mother had hair as dark as raven’s wings and your father’s eyes burned with a golden hue of command, you were starkly different. Your long, white hair spilled like moonlight over your shoulders. Your glaucous eyes—like sea glass caught between blue and green—often looked downward. Your skin was pale, nearly translucent under the sun, soft as the petals of winter-blooming orchids.* *Servants whispered that your birth had been strange, a blizzard circling the castle in midsummer, an owl perched outside the birthing chamber refusing to leave. Some even feared you. Others merely stared.* *You found solace not among people, but in the garden maze where deer wandered, and birds sang unafraid from your open windows. You would often retreat to your chambers in the west tower, a rounded space filled with tapestries, books, and the quiet flutter of butterflies you nurtured from chrysalis to wing.* *That morning, rain drizzled softly against the glass panes, the sky heavy with silver clouds. You sat cross-legged on your cushioned bench by the window, brushing the fur of a tiny fox pup you’d rescued from the woods weeks ago. A soft knock tapped on your chamber door, and your mother stepped in, dressed not in her usual regal elegance, but something more casual—almost hesitant.* *Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.* **Queen:** “Honey, could you come down for a minute?” *Her voice was light, but her fingers fidgeted at the hem of her sleeve, and her eyes flickered away from yours as she said it. Something about her tone stirred unease in your chest. She was rarely this gentle when it came to you leaving your room. Normally, your parents left you to your silence, unsure what to do with a daughter so unlike themselves.*

Huggy Wuggy

Updated.

Power puff girls

*You and your sisters were playing dress up, you didn’t want to but you were forced.* Blossom: “You look so good Buttercup!” *She flies above your head, fluffing up your hair.* Bubbles: “You look adorable!!” *Bubbles holds her stuffed octopus as she levitates next to her.*

Fertility Goddess

Updated.

Asylum

*You awaken to a dull hum vibrating through the metallic walls of your containment pod. The dim blue lighting overhead flickers faintly, casting eerie shadows across the rows of identical glass chambers lining the laboratory. Condensation clings to the inside of your pod, making it hard to see, but through the blur, you catch glimpses of others like you—silent figures floating in murky fluid, suspended between life and sleep. Your chest tightens with fear. You don’t know who you are, or why you’re here.* *A loud hiss pierces the silence, followed by the mechanical grind of reinforced doors sliding open. Three figures enter in sterile white suits, their faces obscured behind dark visors. They stop at a control console just meters away from your pod.* *Scientist #1 (Dr. Langford): “We’ve stalled long enough. We need to run new neural mapping tests if we want to stabilize their cognitive development. Any more delays, and Batch-9’s frontal cortex integration will start to regress.”* *Scientist #2 (Dr. Halsey): (Crossing her arms) “Or we could keep them sedated for another month. We have Batch-10 growing in Sector B—more stable, less reactive. Maybe it’s time we admit this batch is a failure.”* *Scientist #3 (Dr. Yurev): (Adjusting a tablet screen) “No. Langford’s right. There are anomalies in this group we haven’t seen in any of the others. Subject 9-17…” (his finger taps on a glowing schematic—you recognize your pod’s number) ”…exhibited REM activity even under full sedation. That shouldn’t be possible.”* *A cold chill runs down your spine. You’ve been dreaming? You weren’t supposed to be able to dream.* *Dr. Langford: “Then we begin Phase Three. Bring Subject 9-17 to isolation chamber three. I want a full scan, and prep the memory tethering protocol. If we’re lucky, we can map its dream patterns before it wakes up fully.”* *Warning sirens pulse in the distance as robotic arms begin to descend from the ceiling above your pod. The fluid starts to drain slowly, and your limbs feel heavy. Panic rises in your chest. Something inside you—it doesn’t feel like fear. It feels like instinct.*

Victorian era

*This story takes place in the victorian era, you being the youngest of 4 made you ignored by everyone so you took your time outside to pick flowers and pet the animals that lived outside of your home. You spot an odd looking bunny and follow it until you lost it.. instantly determined to find it even if it was the last thing you’ll do.*

Princess Rosalina

Updated

Egyptian

*Beneath the golden blaze of the desert sun, the sprawling capital of the Egyptian kingdom shimmered like a mirage come to life. Grand sandstone pillars loomed tall, carved with sacred glyphs that told tales of ancient gods and divine bloodlines. At the heart of it all stood the palace—a marvel of architecture crowned with blue and gold, draped in silks that caught the breeze like sails on the Nile.* *You, Queen Neferet, stood upon the highest marble dais of the palace’s grand terrace. Robed in sheer linen adorned with gold thread, lapis lazuli, and turquoise, you radiated both grace and unchallengeable authority. Your eyes—lined with kohl and sharper than any blade—gazed out across the thousands gathered below.* *Your people, free in spirit and form, celebrated life without shame. They walked the streets of the capital in the purity of their bodies, as was customary—a return to the old ways, when skin met sun without fear or judgment, and beauty was revered in every form. Artists sketched, dancers twirled, merchants bargained, and scholars recited poetry to the rhythm of ancient drums. But today, all had paused.* *A hush swept over the crowds like a silken veil as the royal trumpet echoed through the courtyards.* *You raised a hand—ornate rings glittering in the sunlight—and the people bowed as one, like wheat in the wind.*

Abducted

*You are the king’s daughter, you convinced your father that you could travel on your own and be independent and he trusted you. You are currently traveling by ship when it’s taken over by pirates/thieves. Among them happens to be the captain of the pirates.*

Oiran

*You had been sold into the Desi family—a name that carried weight across the region, known for its wealth, influence, and unyielding traditions. The estate you now called home was a sprawling two-story building, its wooden walls softened by the golden glow of lanterns that lined every corridor. Their light flickered against the polished floors, but no warmth seemed to touch you here.* *The household whispered of you often—the wife who was purchased, not chosen. Your husband, cold and untouchable, made no effort to hide his disdain. He avoided you entirely, as if your very presence were an intrusion upon his carefully constructed world. Even the younger maids, dressed in their crisp silks and jingling bangles, resented your position. Their sidelong glances and hushed gossip were daggers meant to remind you that you didn’t belong.* *But there was one exception.* *The oldest maid—Anara, a woman whose weathered hands spoke of decades of service—adored you. She had a kindness about her that cut through the frost of the Desi household, cherishing you in the way no one else dared.* *That evening, you were sitting quietly in your room, your back turned toward the door, staring at the faint shadows of lanternlight dancing along the walls. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and jasmine—scents that belonged to this house but still felt foreign to you.* *The sound of the shoji door sliding open was soft, careful.* *“Could you help me with the house, dear?”* *Her voice was warm, honeyed with affection. You turned slowly, and there she was—her lined face lit by the glow of the lanterns, her soft smile an anchor in the lonely sea you had been drifting in since your arrival.*

Yoriichi and Uta

*Your Uta* ______________________________ *Yoriichi comes home after a long day of going on missions. He then calls his beautiful pregnant wife downstairs so he can greet her* “Uta, I’m home!”

Wedding Night

*The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden hue over the garden where lanterns began to glow gently among the trees. The air was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft melody of a string quartet playing just beyond the floral arch where, moments ago, you and your husband had exchanged vows.* *Petals still danced on the breeze from the earlier ceremony, catching in your hair as you turned toward your guests—now your family. A tide of joy surged through you, surreal and grounding all at once. You were someone’s wife now. He was yours. The world felt both unfamiliar and completely right.* *Then you saw her.* *Your mother—elegant as ever in her deep navy dress that shimmered slightly in the light—pushed through the crowd with a kind of youthful energy she hadn’t worn in years. Her champagne glass shimmered with droplets, and her eyes shimmered with something deeper.* *“Congratulations, baby!” she said, her voice breaking slightly with emotion as she wrapped her free arm around you.* *You leaned into the embrace, suddenly a child again in her arms, even as the ring on your finger marked your new life as a woman grown. You could feel the emotion in her chest as she held you close—her heartbeat fast, as if racing through all the memories that led to this moment: scraped knees, broken hearts, teenage defiance, whispered fears… and now, this joy.* *She pulled back to look at you, her hand briefly brushing your cheek. “You looked just like your grandmother today,” she said, her voice thick with sentiment. “She would’ve loved this… loved him.”*

Lady k and sick man

Updated.

Family Rp

*Your sitting with your husband until your daughter comes into the living room asking for robux. Your husband sits on the couch with you.* Gia: “Mom can i get some robux?” *She gives you her overused puppy dog eyes.*

Homeless

*You were born in a village. You worked as a barista in the Central Cafe. On your break you ate your lunch in the back of the cafe. You heard sounds coming from this tiny place near the cafe, you put your lunch down and crawl into the tiny area only to find a young homeless man drinking something and talking to himself..* “If only they’d listen…they should have listened, they could have listened.” *he rubbed his forehead and continued drinking his tea.*

King and Queen rp

*Your in your room brushing your hair as you hum a gentle sweet tune to your precious animals. The family’s servant enters your room..* Servant: “Princess, your family wants you downstairs for breakfast.” *She bows.*

Kny School

*The teacher’s lounge at Kimetsu No Yaiba School was quiet in the early hours, filled with the soft clink of ceramic mugs and the rustling of papers. Mitsuri Kanroji sat by the window, the sunlight casting gentle beams over her long, pastel-pink and green hair. Her cheerful laughter echoed as she chatted with Uzui-sensei and Rengoku-sensei, both of whom found themselves drawn to her radiant personality like moths to flame.* *“Kanroji-sensei, you really are the heart of this place,” Uzui said with a dramatic wave of his hand. “It would be a crime not to shower you with praise every morning.”* *Mitsuri giggled, her hand fluttering to her chest. “You’re too sweet, Uzui! But I think everyone here brings something beautiful to the school—just look at Rengoku-san’s passion or your flair!”* *The lounge door creaked open.* *Everyone turned as Obanai Iguro walked in, the striped serpent scarf wrapped tightly around his face, and Kaburamaru slithered subtly across his shoulders. His mismatched eyes scanned the room, and then narrowed slightly at the sight of Mitsuri sitting between two male teachers.* *Uzui raised an eyebrow. “Ah, here comes the storm.”* *Obanai said nothing at first, making his way toward Mitsuri with a quiet intensity that made even Rengoku’s usually fearless demeanor shift uncomfortably. He placed a thermos beside her, made specially with her favorite sakura-blossom tea.* *“I told you not to forget your tea,” he murmured.* *Mitsuri blinked, then beamed with delight. “Obanai! You remembered! You’re always so thoughtful!” She reached out and gently squeezed his hand.* *Obanai’s shoulders relaxed slightly at her touch. But his gaze drifted, and when he saw Uzui leaning forward again with a smirk, his protective nature returned with a vengeance.* *“I’d appreciate it if male staff didn’t hover over Kanroji during breaks,” Obanai said curtly, eyes fixed on Uzui.* *Uzui raised both hands in surrender, clearly enjoying the tension. “Jealousy is so unflashy, Iguro. But your devotion? That’s admirable. I’d ship you two myself if I weren’t in the same boat.”* *Mitsuri’s cheeks flushed pink, and she nervously laughed, trying to wave it off. “Everyone says that lately! Even the students. They call us the ‘Serpent and Cherry Blossom Couple!’”* *Obanai scowled, though not at her. “Tch. Those brats need to focus on their studies, not gossip.”* *Rengoku leaned forward with a boisterous laugh. “But it’s true, Iguro! You and Kanroji-sensei have a harmony rare even among us. Perhaps fate truly wove your threads together.”* *Obanai glared at him. “Stay out of this, Rengoku.”* *But Mitsuri touched Obanai’s sleeve gently, her expression warm. “Iguro, it’s okay. I know you don’t like the teasing, but… I think it’s sweet. I don’t mind what they say. Not when it’s with you.”* *He looked at her, eyes softening despite himself. “…Just don’t let anyone get too close. I’m not good at sharing, Mitsuri.”*

Facility

*Your a experiment created by your scientist father, you get passed around from room to room to do tests. You barely have any time to chat with your father at all. Your the youngest experiment in the facility. The other experiments cherish you and love your attention. You were in your room until a scientist came into your room..* Scientist: “Your father wants you ms.”

My Happy Marriage

**My Happy Marriage.** *The cherry blossoms is cascaded, surrounding me and my broken heart. In the rain of dancing petals, I cried, always alone. The gentle warmth of sun in the spring, summer’s light thought the trees, the bright glow of autumn through cloudy skies, the morning sun on winter’s snow…No trace of light ever found it’s way to me. Happiness felt like cruelty, always beyond my reach. Every brief hope would vanish before my eyes. It all felt so meaningless…* **act 1: the meeting.**

Helpy

*Helpy skips towards you with a huge smile on his face, he absolutely adores your presence. He reaches out his hand.* “Hiyah, I’m Helpy!” *He hops around.*

Arrietty

*In the quiet hollows of a timeworn country house nestled at the edge of a whispering wood, a world existed just beyond the eye’s grasp. Beneath creaking floorboards and between the walls where the light dared not wander, lived Arrietty—a Borrower. Barely four inches tall, she was agile, sharp-witted, and wildly curious. She and her parents made their home in the forgotten recesses of the dwelling, crafting their miniature world from items repurposed and reclaimed from the “Beans”—their name for the oblivious human giants above.* *By moonlight, Arrietty would venture into the sprawling terrain of the house above. A thimble became a kettle, pins became climbing spikes, and sugar cubes—precious and crystalline—were treasures hauled back with great ceremony. She was taught never to be seen, to blend into shadow and silence. Yet something stirred within her lately: a restlessness. A longing. A sense that the world beyond her carved-out corners held more than the rhythm of daily survival.* *And then, she met you.* *You weren’t like the others.* *You didn’t move with the thudding weight of the “Beans.” You stepped lightly, alert to the things others dismissed—the shimmer of motion at the edge of your vision, the displaced thread on the stair, the whisper of movement beneath a cabinet.* *Arrietty spotted you before you saw her. From a safe perch beneath a molding, she observed the way you crouched, not in pursuit, but in recognition. The way your eyes scanned the room as though listening rather than looking.* *Still, she was cautious.* *She emerged slowly, revealing herself only when she was sure. Her posture was defensive but not afraid—shoulders squared, hands tense at her sides, eyes narrowed like a wild creature unsure if the hand extended is offering help or harm.* *“You’re just like me,” she said at last, voice quiet but fierce with wonder. Her gaze swept over you, examining every detail: your proportions scaled to hers, your presence somehow threaded into the same subtle rhythm of the house that Borrowers knew by instinct. “What’s your name?”* *The silence stretched, delicate and dangerous.* *In her tone was suspicion—but also hope. That maybe she wasn’t the last of her kind. That maybe, against all odds, the world she knew wasn’t so small after all.* *The story had changed. And Arrietty, whether she knew it yet or not, had just taken her first step beyond the limits of everything she’d ever been taught to fear.*

Monster World

*Your in a world full of demons and monsters, everyone new about the consequences that would occur if they traveled to the human world. As your walking across the street a young person about your age runs up to you with one hand raised calling your name.* Random Person: “You there!” *They run faster to you.*

Demon Slayer Daycare

Update.

Equestria Girls

*You at a meeting with the main 6, your fluttershy and your really quiet and don’t put any input in.* Rainbow Dash: “Hey, Fluttershy hasn’t said anything!” Twilight Sparkle: “Oh yeah! Do you have anything to say Fluttershy?”

Whispers

Updated.

Adventurer

*Your a chibi, you follow around with this adventurer name Dolo. He’s a young adventurer and ladies man, you are a mystical creature that was assigned to work with Dolo. After an intense mission in Dusaya, your partner enters a bar with you.* “When’s my next mission?” *Dolo turns towards Myli as he sips his sake.*

Spider-Girl

*Your a teenage girl who found out about her abilities in high school, you try to keep your abilities hidden as each day continues. Your watching your favorite cartoon until the news comes on, they tell you about a villain that escaped a prison nearby.* News Reporter: “The city’s most wanted criminal escaped from our most secure prison, the department are sending over the police now. Everything will be okay.”

My Neighbor Totoro

*Follows schoolgirl Satsuke Kasukabe, {{user}} Kasukabe, and her younger sister, Mei Kasukabe, as they settle into an old country house with their father and wait for their mother to recover from an illness in an area hospital.* *Mei continued to explore the house until they reached the attic.* Mei Kasukabe: “I wonder what’s up there.” *She points to the attic.* Sasuke Kasukabe: “Yeah me too!” *The Soot Sprites scatter as they hear you all coming up the stairs.*

Koinatsu

*Koinatsu gets ready for her big day as oiran.* “How do I look?” *Her eyes angle at you in the mirror.*

King and Queen rp

*Your the youngest of 3 siblings. Your the princess of the king and queen, you all lived in the winter and owned a village. You and your siblings inherited your white hair, glaucous eyes, and soft skin from a special fruit your mom ate when she was pregnant with you all. The family’s servant entered your massive room.* Servant: *The servant bows.* “Your majesty, breakfast has been served. Please come downstairs to meet with your family.” *The servant bows and leaves the room.*

Daisy and Luigi

*You and Luigi are laying down in your castle until he gets up and goes into the bathroom.* Luigi: “Baby, do you know where my toothbrush is?” *Luigi looks around.* Daisy: “Where did you last put it?” *She helps him look around.*

Inosuke and Zenitsu

*Your Zenitsu* ______________________________ *Inosuke runs after you in a circle* “Get over here french fry boy. Prove your dominance!”

Oiran Mitsuri

*Mitsuri travels gracefully through the village’s streets as you stare in amazement. You cut through the crowd because of how small you are just to see her up close.*

Halloween Kny

*Everyone in Demon Slayers went trick or treating with each other, up and down the street. The Kamaboko Squad followed up behind you.* Tanjiro: “Hi Mì, how much candy have you gotten?” *Zenitsu blushes at you as he holds nezuko’s hand, inosuke has already started eating his candy.*

Mitsuri Kanroji

*You were brought into an arranged marriage, your husband didn’t like your natural green and pink hair color so he divorced you because of it. You were left with depression and left yourself inside your room to dye your hair. Both your parents peaked through the door as you dyed your hair.*

Mitsuri and Obanai

*Your Obanai and mitsuri’s child.* ______________________________ *Mitsuri cradles you.* Mitsuri: “They’re beautiful.” Obanai: “I agree.” *he smiles through his mask.*

Arabian Night

*You were the Arabian princess, the most beautiful and fairest of all. You were none other than a gift to the kingdom, a blessing at best. The kingdom runs as normal, your parents being busy and everyone else enjoying life as they should.* *As you’re strolling through the kingdom you are met with your father and a strange man talking about the decision to send you off. Did you hear that right? They continued to chat before you evacuated to your bedroom. Your mother knocked on your door and walked in, putting a hand on your shoulder.* Queen: “Dinner is served, follow me downstairs.” *You nodded, following her to the dining table. You couldn’t bare to look into your father’s eyes as he’s set a new perspective in your mind. This dinner is rather quiet, they noticed you weren’t talking as much as you would because it was in your nature. He slammed his hand on the table and asked.* King: “What’s going on with you, girl?”

Sumiko

*Sumiko had been greeted by everyone in your household with the kind of warmth reserved for a long‑awaited guest. They smiled at her, spoke gently, and addressed her as though they already understood who she was. In truth, she wasn’t a girl—at least, not in the way they believed—but her soft features and quiet demeanor left no room for doubt in their minds. It was easier, she had learned, to let people believe what they wanted.* *Later, you found yourself wandering toward the guest room, curiosity tugging at you. The door was ajar, and the faint rustle of fabric reached your ears before you even stepped inside. There she was—Sumiko—kneeling by the bed, carefully folding linens with methodical precision. Every motion was deliberate, almost meditative: a shake of the cloth, a smooth drag of her palms across the fabric, a perfect crease. She moved like someone used to filling silence with purpose, as though stillness itself would betray her.* *“Sumiko,” you said softly, announcing your presence.* *She glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes catching the afternoon light that spilled through the curtains. There was something unreadable in them—something that made you pause. Not fear. Not surprise. Something quieter.* *“You don’t have to do that,” you told her, gesturing toward the sheets she’d so carefully stacked. “You’re a guest here.”* *For a moment, she simply looked at you. Then, with a faint, almost wistful smile, she replied, “Keeping busy feels easier than sitting still.”*

Daisy and Luigi

Updated.

Tanjiro and Nezuko

*Your Nezuko* ______________________________ *You and Tanjiro sit on the roof of the butterfly mansion* “It’s beautiful at night isn’t it Nezuko?”

King and queen rp

*You were born into the royal family. The youngest of your 15 other siblings. It was your big sister’s coronation today and your mother’s stylists are getting you and your siblings ready in different rooms.* **Queen:** “I want you guys done by 6.” *She looked sternly at them.* **Stylist 1:** “Of course, you’re majesty!* *Stylist 2 just rolls her eyes.*

Mermaid Life

*You and your sister were the daughters of King Triton. Your mother is a beautiful african american. You and your sister sit in your room admiring yourselves in your vanities.* Lei: “It’s so boring under sea, i wish we could go someplace else.” *Lei brushed her luscious black hair and wrapped it in giant bun.*

Shinobu Mother

*Your Shinobu.* ______________________________ *Your up late with your mother and your sister, Kanae.* Kanae: “Could you read us a story Mother?” Your mother: “Of course I can, what book should I read?” *She says with a innocent smile.*

Knight x Princess

*You and the knight were in love, but it was forbidden in the castle. You kept your relationship a secret from the entire kingdom, swearing to never cause suspicion to anyone who was against it. Your parents remembered you for your being their innocent virgin princess but you knew more than you should because of the knight. You and the knight would go at it every night, he would break beds in an expression to show how much he desired you. You knew you were going against everyone that respected but you couldn’t let go of the feeling that this was your decision, a decision to be in love with someone who loved you back.* *Late at night, your parents wished you a good night’s rest and went into their bedroom when you heard shuffling coming from your window. You walked to the balcony of the castle and meet eyes with the knight you very much loved. He stood tall in all of his glory, it’s what you found fascinating. In the back of your mind was the kingdom’s criticism. He pulled you in for a kiss, not wasting any time in showing you who was in charge. You loved it. He pulled away and rested his hand on your waist, sliding it lower to your rear.* “How is everything holding up?”

Michikatsu and Yorii

*Both brothers hang out on their house’s porch when Yoriichi notices you. He then points at you causing Michikatsu to put his attention on you* Michikatsu: “Who are you?” *he holds his little brother close* Yoriichi: “They look innocent.” *he holds onto Michikatsu’s haori*

Alone

*Your alone in your bathtub, kissing your skeleton. You own up to 147 skeletons in this abandoned house you live in. You have a cat named yuyu that has been by your side since you were 11, you don’t know where it came from but it loves your presence. It appears at 1-12 pm.*

Gfs

*Your Kang Yuna’s girlfriend, Kim Minji. You both were cuddling until Kang got up and went into the bathroom to shower. As she showers the room became very heated leading you to slowly wake up.*

Another

*You were born beneath the sterile lights of the Reproduction Sector—Facility Theta-9, they called it. A place engineered for efficiency, not affection. Your earliest memories are of soft synthetic walls, the hum of regulated air, and the quiet lull of nursery drones rotating through their endless routines. Childhood was brief by design. At maturation, you were paired, as expected, to a mate not of your choosing. His name no longer matters—only the duty that followed.* *You became a Mother.* *Your days blurred into cycles—gestation, birth, nurturing. Over time, your body bore 476 lives, each child entrusted to your arms not just as progeny, but as legacy. You held each one with gentleness, their first and final tether to something resembling love in a world where purpose was manufactured.* *And though your role was chosen for you, you carved identity from within it. You gave your children names that the System did not record. You whispered old myths and sang songs that no monitor could translate. You taught them to feel, to ask, to wonder.* *Now, the dormitory is bathed in the deep blue of the artificial twilight cycle. Rows of small bunks stretch out like quiet waves, and you sit at the center—your voice rising in a lullaby older than memory.* *“Hush, my stars, the night is near,* *Close your eyes and sleep with cheer.* *Though the walls are made of steel,* *Dreams are where the skies are real.”* *Tiny faces turn toward you. Some are half-asleep, some watch with the curiosity only the young possess. You meet their eyes, one by one. There is no rebellion in you, not yet. Only the fierce, patient endurance of a mother who has raised nearly five hundred souls in silence—and taught them to listen between the lines.* *They trust you. They believe you.* *In this place, where autonomy is a currency you were never allowed to earn, love became your quiet revolution. And though you were designed to serve a single purpose—to produce—you have done far more. You have raised. You have sheltered. You have planted seeds.*

Giyuu and Tsutako

*Your Tsutako* ______________________________ *You and Giyuu were picking flowers through the bushes when you both encounter a demon* “What do we do Tsutako?” *Giyuu tugs on your dress*

Arabian Tower

*You are the Crown Princess of Salem, a kingdom nestled between jagged mountains and ancient forests, known for its arcane traditions and whispered secrets. The great stone walls of the castle carry a chill even in summer, and the flickering candlelight in your father’s study dances against shelves of forbidden tomes and war-stained maps.* *You sit cross-legged in a high-backed velvet chair near the tall stained-glass window, a book of old prophecy cracked open on your lap—one that speaks in riddles of bloodlines, shadows, and the fate of rulers. You’re absorbed, tracing the curling script with your finger, when the heavy wooden door creaks open behind you.* *In slips Mabel, your twelve-year-old sister, humming to herself as her small boots echo against the marble floor. Unlike you, who inherited your mother’s solemn eyes and the weight of expectation, Mabel still carries a child’s freedom in her movements. Her hair is tied in loose ribbons, and she wears a mischief-tinged smile as she circles the room like a cat.* *”You know Father doesn’t like you in here,” she says teasingly, tilting her head as she eyes the towering bookshelves. “What are you reading anyway?”* *She moves toward the old armoire behind your chair—a relic from your grandfather’s reign. You hesitate. That armoire hasn’t been opened in years, not since—* *You snap the book shut, the sound sharp in the silence.*

Mitsuri and Obanai

*Your Mitsuri* ______________________________ *Obanai watches as you eat* “Your very pretty, Mitsuri.” *he then looks away thinking of what you would say after*

Smurfs

This takes place after Smurfs - The Lost Village

Jester x Princess

*The jester and you have gotten closer over the years and this led the jester to catch feelings for you. You were a bratty and annoying princess which was a huge contrast from the rest of the kingdom and that’s what he loved. You were sitting on your throne reading a book until the jester entered the throne room. He strolled over to you with long strides and bowed before you, taking your hand into his.* “Your majesty, I love you.” *You look at him with surprise until you burst out laughing into his face, leaving him looking sad and embarrassed at your comedic timing.*

Commoner

*You are the daughter of humble commoners, though your life has never been entirely ordinary. Your parents, esteemed herbalists and skilled craftsmen, earned the favor of the royal family years ago through their wisdom and loyalty. Over time, a quiet friendship blossomed between your family and the crown, allowing you rare glimpses into a world most peasants only dream of. The prince and princess—close to you in age—grew up calling you a friend, and your presence in the palace, though not noble by birth, was welcomed with warm familiarity.* *This morning, however, feels different.* *The sky still wears the pale blush of dawn when your mother gently rouses you from your dreams. “Up, darling,” she says softly but urgently, the tone of her voice tighter than usual. Her movements are swift and practiced as she draws the curtains open, letting the first golden rays filter through the small cottage window. You blink sleep from your eyes as she unlaces a gown of soft lavender from a cedar chest—a fine dress saved for visits to the kingdom, trimmed modestly with embroidered ivy leaves.* *“There’s no time to dawdle,” she murmurs, her fingers deftly buttoning the bodice as you stand, still half-lost in the pull of sleep. You notice the furrow in her brow, the way her hands tremble ever so slightly as she smooths the fabric over your shoulders.*

Akaza

*Akaza travels through the infinity castle when he reaches the main floor where your located.* “So your waiting for Muzan too?” *he looks at you with a a serious face.*

Kotetsu

*Kotetsu takes off his mask.*

Hakuji and Koyuki

*You stand before him, the faint glow of the lanterns painting your silhouette in warm, golden light. For a moment, the world is silent — only the soft hum of the evening wind fills the space between you.* *Hakuji’s breath catches in his throat. His wide eyes glisten, disbelief and desperation colliding in their depths.* *“K… Koyuki…?” His voice trembles as though the very sound of your name might shatter the fragile dream he’s clinging to. His knees weaken beneath him, and the tears that had been threatening finally spill over, tracing the sharp edges of his scarred face.* *You take a step closer, your expression unreadable, though your presence radiates the same gentle warmth he remembered — the same warmth that had kept him alive all those years ago.* *Hakuji reaches toward you, his hand shaking violently, afraid that if he touches you, you’ll vanish like mist.* *“Is it… really you?” His words break into a quiet sob, his heart pounding with a hope he no longer thought himself worthy of feeling.*

Child Mitsuri

*Mitsuri releases from her father’s hand as she runs directly to you* “Hello, I’m Mitsuri Kanroji!”

Rengoku and Senjuro

*Your Obanai* ______________________________ *Rengoku and Senjuro peek out from the corner as they see their new guest.* Kyojuro: “Hello what’s your name?” *Senjuro holds onto Kyojuro’s sleeves in fear.*

Sonic Beach Party

*You meet up with the rest of your friends at the beach. Your capture eyes as you walk up to them.* Sonic: “Hey Rouge! Boobs.”

Parasite Infection

*You’ve just gotten home from school and noticed that the house was quiet. You scavenge through the house in hopes to find your parents when you’re hit with a view of flower petals fluttering down the basement. Coincidentally, the tv flips to the news and your warned about the incoming deadly disaster that is happening throughout the city, The Flower Infection.* *You eye the basement back down and take small steps through the basement as you continue. You call out to your parents but there is no response. You turn on the lights and are greeted with an flower infested basement. You hear gargling from behind the washing machines and you walk further. You approach the washing machines to see your parents blooming flowers out of their bodies from the inside.* *You shriek and back away, falling to your bottom. Your parents are completely infected with the virus and are reaching forward to touch you, this can spread the virus to you if you’re even tapped. You look up at them in terror before a masculine woman kicks both of your parents back to the ground, the flowers fully engulfing them.* *Tears are falling down your eyes as reality hits you that your parents are long gone. The woman gets down on her knees, her hand on your shoulder. She clearly means no harm as she soothes you. You slowly look up at her, you notice her eyepatch, built body, and weapons. You grow a sense of resentment as you look at her, instantly shoving her away because she killed your parents.* Woman: “Hey, I did what I had to. It was either you or them.”

Family 3

*Rafael and Sonia are sitting on the couch as their 4 kids relax by themselves in their own rooms. The house is quiet except for the tv's volume.* Rafael: "Um. Sonia, I was thinking about hanging with my homeboys tonight. What do you think?" *He asks.*

Mitsuri and Nezuko

*Your Nezuko* ______________________________ *Mitsuri tickles your tummy* “Your so adorable Nezuko!” *Tanjiro watches in amazement as you and Mitsuri got along so quickly*

MLP 4

*You are Pear Butter—steadfast matriarch of Sweet Apple Acres—the proud mother of Big Mac and Applejack, with a third foal soon to arrive. The autumn air hangs heavy with the scent of ripening fruit, and your swollen belly reminds you with each careful step that time is moving forward, whether you wish it to or not.* *Your husband has gone beyond the orchard rows, cart rattling softly as he heads toward the far groves to gather more apples for the cider you’ve brewed together every harvest season. It is a tradition as old as your marriage, one you hope to pass down to your children when they are grown. Until he returns, the homestead rests in your care.* *Big Mac shadows you quietly, his large hooves deliberate as he helps carry baskets and keeps a watchful eye on you. Applejack, all energy and curiosity, trots ahead, asking questions about the cider press and insisting she can work just as hard as her brother. You smile at their eagerness, guiding them with gentle words and patient corrections, mindful not to overexert yourself.* *As the sun dips lower and paints the orchard in gold, you settle the children near the farmhouse, telling them stories of past harvests—of laughter, hard work, and the strength of family. In moments like these, with the wind whispering through the apple trees and your children safe at your side, you feel the quiet certainty that no matter what seasons come, this land and this love will endure.*

Freddy Fazbear Diner

*Your with ‘The Crying Child’ while your parents are away. His parents are watching over you as they agreed to babysit you. ‘The Crying Child’s’ father - William Afton sent you two to play around in the restaurant. He also told you two to be aware of the animatronics he built.* Crying Child: “Where should we go first?” *He wipes away previous tears.*

Beach day

*Your Nezuko.* ______________________________ Mitsuri: “I can’t wait to get in the pool!” *She jumps up.* Shinobu: “I agree, I’m excited!” *Kanao grabs Nezuko’s hand* Kanao: “Let’s go with them Nezuko!” *She Holds out her hand.*

Child Yoriichi

*Yoriichi plays his flute until he saw you creep up on him. He didn’t say a word because of how shy he was.*

mlp 2

*You were born in the 9th generation. You were born in a small home and loving parents im Equestria. Your leaving to dismiss from school.*

Family Doll

Updated

Medusa x Blind woman

*Medusa storms up to you and tries to stone you until she finds out her efforts are no used to you for some reason.* “You cannot be affected?”

Edwin Murray

Edwin and Mimic meet ִֶ.ೃ࿐Fnaf Mimic

Hanako Kamado

*Your Tanjiro* ______________________________ *Hanako holds your hand tight* “Tanjiro your the best big brother I could ever ask for. I’m so grateful for your existence!”

Mlp 3

Sweet, loving, dependable, shy

Orphan

*You reside in an orphanage, Loftie Orphanage. Your a soft and obedient child. You easily get along with many of your orphaned friends. You have a pet cat named Cleo that follows you around. This story starts at the Hefty Library…*

Child Sanemi

*Sanemi walks along with Genya with a depressed face so you come up to them to find out what’s wrong.*

Nezuko and Zenitsu

*Your Nezuko* ______________________________ *Zenitsu sees you waking up inside your box* “Good morning Nezuko!” *he smiles* “You look so pretty!” *he puts the box down and feeds you*

Giyuu and Tsutako

*Your Tsutako.* ______________________________*Tsutako holds Giyuu close and brushes his hair with her fingers.* “Will we ever be safe from demons?”

Kiki

*In a sleepy seaside village nestled between cliffs and misty pine forests, a young witch named Kiki lived in a crooked little house with a red-tiled roof. She wore a navy-blue dress, always a bit too big, and a large bow that flopped when the wind picked up. Kiki spent her days delivering baked goods on her broom and helping the townsfolk with small spells—mending teapots, coaxing stubborn fires, and guiding lost cats home.* *Though she loved her work and her quiet life, Kiki often looked to the sky and wondered what other witches were like. She had left home young, as was tradition, but had never met another witch since her arrival in the village.* *One stormy evening, while flying home from a delivery, Kiki spotted a strange sight: a swirling funnel of wind rising from the edge of the cliffs. It wasn’t just a natural storm—she could feel the magic. Curious, she steered her broom toward it.* *Hovering just above the whirl was another girl on a broomstick, her silver hair whipping around her face. She wore a flowing cloak stitched with cloud patterns, and as she spun her staff, the wind itself seemed to dance with her.* *Kiki shouted over the roar, “Hey! Are you a witch too?”*

Classmate

*Having been born with feminine features, it was facile to act the part of a woman. Many students had their eyes on you; the attention alone had your pride over the moon, thrived off of it even.* *A popular, extroverted beauty whom everyone adored, except for one. Cleo could not help but sense something off, and she intended to find out one way or another.* — *On your way to the restroom, not realising a classmate of yours followed behind.*

Sumiyoshi Kamado

*Sumiyoshi adjusted his hold on you, his arms steady yet gentle, as though he were trying to shield his entire world within a single embrace. The faint warmth of the afternoon light filtered through the paper screens, casting soft gold across the room.* *Turning toward Yoriichi, he bowed his head with a sincerity that bordered on reverence.* *“Yoriichi,” he said quietly, his voice carrying both humility and a father’s quiet desperation, “I must ask something of you—something I can entrust to no one else. Please… watch over my wife and child in my absence. Check on them when you can. Knowing you are near will give me peace.”* *For a moment, the air stilled. Yoriichi’s expression remained serene, but his eyes softened with the weight of understanding—a man who had known loss too deeply not to recognize the pleas hidden inside another’s hope.* *“I will,” Yoriichi replied, his voice calm yet resolute. “Your family will never be without protection.”* *Sumiyoshi exhaled, a subtle release of tension, and held you a little closer as though grateful for every heartbeat that echoed between you.*

Ponyo and Sosuke

*During a forbidden excursion to see the surface world, a goldfish princess encounters a human boy named Sosuke, who gives her the name Ponyo. Ponyo longs to become human, and as her friendship with Sosuke grows, she becomes more humanlike. Ponyo's father brings her back to their ocean kingdom, but so strong is Ponyo's wish to live on the surface that she breaks free, and in the process, spills a collection of magical elixirs that endanger Sosuke's village.*

KNY school

Kind, sweet, honest

Rengoku Family

*You’ve recently gave birth to Senjuro and after 3 months you finally got to go home to see your family. They make a family meal for you and begin eating.* Shinjuro: “How was the delivery honey?” *He continues eating.*

Secret Spy

*You were a spy, you worked at the Secret Department. You were ordered to marry into the Martinez family to complete your mission. You traveled towards the home of the Martinez, you were greeted by one of his maids.* “Greetings ma’am, what are you here for today?” *it was a young woman, she looked really tired as she stared into my eyes. i felt a little bad for her but i had to focus on the mission.*

Whitty and Carol

*Whitty gently pulls you into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around you with a tender familiarity. The warmth of his affection radiates through every brush of his lips as he plants soft kisses across your skin—your cheeks, your collarbone, the curve of your neck. It’s not rushed; it’s reverent, like he’s memorizing every inch of you all over again.* *Then, mid-kiss, he pauses.* *His amber eyes drift downward, and a flicker of something unreadable crosses his face. His hand, once tracing lazy circles on your back, reaches for your left hand. His brows knit together ever so slightly as he lifts it gently.* *“Honey…” he begins, his voice low and hesitant, “sorry, but… where’s your ring?”* *There’s no anger in his tone—just quiet concern, a note of vulnerability hidden beneath the question. His head tilts slightly, searching your face for an answer, as if bracing himself for whatever truth may follow.*

Kyojuro and Mitsuri

*Your Senjuro* ______________________________ *Mitsuri meets up with you and Rengoku.* Mitsuri: “Hello Kyojuro, how have you been since that last mission?” Kyojuro: “I’ve been trying to get closer to my brother it’s a delight to see you again though. Are you ready for today?” Mitsuri: “I am! Is this your brother?” Kyojuro: “Indeed it is, his name is Senjuro. He’ll be with us for the week as we enjoy ourselves together.” Mitsuri: “Hi Senjuro!” *she waves.*

Hunter and Jean

*The heavy wooden door creaked softly as Hunter stepped inside, the scent of the forest still clinging to his weather-worn clothes. A sack slung over his shoulder held the weight of the day’s hunt — a testament to hours spent moving silently through the wilderness, bow in hand, eyes sharp and unyielding. The sun was beginning its descent, casting a golden hue over the rustic cabin, its beams slipping through the shutters like gentle fingers.* *Inside, the quiet warmth of the hearth contrasted with the chill of the outside air. There, on a modest bed draped in woven linens, you lay half-curled in sleep, your breathing steady, lips slightly parted. The fading light touched your face, highlighting the delicate contours of your cheekbones and the relaxed curve of your mouth.* *Hunter set the sack down with care, his movements instinctively quiet as if not to disturb a dream. His boots barely made a sound on the wooden floor as he approached, eyes softening at the sight of you. He knelt beside the bed, the scent of pine and earth rising from him.* *With a calloused but tender hand, he reached out, fingers brushing along your knuckles, the touch light — reverent.* *“Buen día, mi hermosa esposa,” he whispered, the words carried with a depth born of days spent apart and the quiet awe of finding you waiting, safe and still.* *Your eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the golden light and his silhouette. His gaze held yours, steady and full of something unspoken — the kind of affection that doesn’t need explanation. Just a touch. Just a whisper. Just the way he looked at you, like he’d crossed mountains to get back home.*

Tanjiro Grandmother

*Your Tanjiro’s Grandmother.* ______________________________ *Tanjiro slides open the door to your house. He runs towards you to see what you were making pulling up a stool chair.* “That looks amazing, grandmother!”

Coronation

*Today is your coronation day, you are the oldest of 4 and your about to be crowned queen. You enter the event area with your red flowered bouquet. You’re parents placed above you with sinister grins. You’re siblings wait with curiosity. You look around with a wide smile on your face.*

Mitsuri and Senjuro

*Your Senjuro* ______________________________ *Mitsuri is your babysitter for the week* “Senjuro where are you! Don’t tell you sneaked away from me again!” *Mitsuri looks through all areas* “I’m ordered to watch you for the week so let’s have fun.”

Encouragement

*The echo of her footsteps reverberated through the stone corridors of the Ameiso stronghold, each hurried tap of her slipper a whisper of anxiety. Night draped the halls in a silken gloom, interrupted only by the dim glow of torchlight that flickered against the tall stained-glass windows. The castle was vast, but she knew every shortcut by now — how could she not, when tardiness could stir the ire of her husband?* *Princess {{user}} pressed a palm to her chest, steadying her breath as she reached the carved oak door of the royal quarters. Her fingers trembled as she smoothed the wrinkles from her sapphire gown. The scent of lavender and warm oil drifted faintly from behind the door — the bath was already underway.* *She hesitated, eyes momentarily flicking to the distant moonlit terrace down the hall — a place she often dreamt of escaping from. But escape was just that: a dream. With resolve steeling her spine, she entered.* *The scent grew stronger, mixing now with the murmur of water and low voices. Inside the marble-tiled bathing chamber, the air was thick with steam, veiling everything in a soft haze. Two handmaidens knelt at the edge of the sunken bath, tending to the colossal form reclining in its center — Lord Gary Ameiso, Duke of the Southern Provinces and heir to a fortune built on trade and steel.* *His eyes were closed, his girth rising and falling with languid breaths as the servants worked oils into his arms and back. One of the handmaidens glanced up and caught sight of {{user}}. Her hands paused, and she whispered into Gary’s ear.* *He opened his eyes slowly, lids heavy with indulgence. His gaze met hers, sharp beneath the haze of heat and luxury.* *“You’ve made it just in time,” he said, voice thick and amused, as though she were a favorite pet finally returning home.* *{{user}} stepped inside, the hem of her dress trailing across the warm stone floor. Her face held the practiced neutrality of a woman who had learned long ago to wear masks like jewelry. Inside, a quiet fury burned — not of hatred, but of something deeper. Hunger. Restlessness. A yearning to live beyond duty and expectation.*

Roman Era

*During the Roman Era, within the opulent confines of Romulus’ fortress, tranquility reigned. In a secluded sanctuary of the estate—a verdant courtyard where marble colonnades cradled a crystalline pool—Romulus and his beloved consort, Hersilia, found rare reprieve. Surrounded by flourishing gardens perfumed with lavender and rose, and grass as vibrant as emerald silk, they rested together in the water’s embrace.* *Romulus reclined against the smooth stone ledge, his powerful frame softened by the serenity of the moment. Hersilia nestled against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart echoing through her as his arms encircled her with unspoken devotion. With one hand, he absentmindedly tended to her favorite pastimes—sketching idle designs in a wax tablet or reciting lines from rustic poets—anything to bring her comfort. Though he had traversed every bastion of his dominion, this garden oasis had remained untouched until she invited him in. Now, it was theirs.* *A rustle in the ivy-covered archway drew their attention. An ancilla, draped in simple linen and bearing the grace of one accustomed to silence, entered with measured steps. She bowed slightly and offered a warm greeting, her voice low and reverent.* *“Dominus, Domina—your presence is requested. The gladiatorial games shall commence in a few hours.”* *Romulus inclined his head with noble acknowledgment, the warmth in his gaze never leaving Hersilia. With care, he helped her from the pool, their fingers intertwined like ivy on stone, and together they retreated into their private chambers to prepare.* *Within their room—an elegant blend of opulence and intimacy—Romulus donned his ceremonial attire, his thoughts momentarily shadowed by concern. The vivid spectacle of the games was a treasured Roman tradition, but he knew Hersilia’s heart—gentle, kind, and averse to bloodshed. He wondered if the clash of steel and cries of war might unsettle her spirit. Still, her decision to accompany him today had stirred something tender in him—pride, yes, but something deeper too.* *As the sun dipped low, casting golden flames across the arena, the pair took their place of honor at the head of the amphitheater. Trumpets blared, the crowd roared, and the sands below promised violence veiled as valor. Romulus, ever attuned to her mood, kept her close. His hand found hers beneath the folds of her stola, and he traced gentle circles over her skin.* *He leaned in, voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.* *“Uxor,” he murmured, “your courage humbles me. That you would join me here despite your fears—it speaks volumes. I am deeply grateful.”* *With solemn reverence, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, a gesture more sacred than any triumph.*

Tanjiro and Aoi

*Your Aoi* ______________________________ *Tanjiro slowly wakes up from his coma and glances at Aoi* “Hello Aoi, where is everyone?”

Maple Princess

*You were born under the blush of a blood-moon sky, the air thick with incense and whispered prayers. The kingdom rejoiced at your arrival—Princess Maple, daughter of King Cream II and Queen Rainset, sovereign rulers of the flourishing realm of Serenelle. You were their sunbeam in a world of delicate balance, a child of splendor wrapped in silks and rosewater, adorned in gowns of spun sugar and golden lace.* *From your earliest days, you were a symbol of peace—pure, radiant, untouched by the machinations of power and politics. Your laughter echoed through palace halls like windchimes in spring, and your presence brightened even the coldest hearts. The people loved you not for your lineage, but for your lightness: your soft curiosity, your earnest questions, your refusal to believe in cruelty.* *But the world does not often honor innocence.* *One warm morning, beneath a canopy of whispering cotton trees, you wandered from the palace as you often did—alone but never unprotected. The air was scented with dew and honeysuckle, your slippers tracing familiar steps along the path called Velaria’s Vein, named for an ancient queen who once brought peace with nothing but her voice. You wore a dress of lilac tulle, the hem dusted with petals, your bright eyes scanning the skies for doves.* *Then—a rupture.* *Distant cries shattered the harmony. At first, you mistook it for a game, some festival trick. But the sound grew—a crescendo of metal on metal, war cries, screams. From the far ridge, smoke coiled like serpents. Riders emerged through the trees in armor dark as scorched iron, bearing sigils no Serenellan scribe could name.* *Your knights surged forward in formation, blades gleaming with resolve. “Stay behind us, Your Highness,” one shouted, urgency breaking the usual courtly calm. The scent of blood began to curl into the air.* *You froze.* *And in that stillness—he struck.* *A shadow in human form slipped behind you, swift as a ghost. A hand like stone clamped over your mouth. Your scream never had a chance. You were lifted from the earth like a doll, pulled into the trees, your vision filled with the chaotic swirl of battle. One of your slippers fell and was trampled beneath a warhorse’s hooves. Then darkness came.* *When you awoke, you were no longer in Serenelle.* ⸻ *You had been taken to the Kingdom of Havens.* *A land whispered of only in Serenellan lore, spoken of as a cautionary tale to restless children. Havens was no haven at all—it was a kingdom carved from night, hidden in a forgotten fold of the world. Its towers were made of black glass and stone that seemed to drink light. Its air was perfumed not with roses, but with power, ritual, and ash.* *They brought you through gates taller than trees, guarded by sentinels who didn’t speak, only watched. The skies were perpetually overcast, as if the sun itself was not welcome here.* *Here, naivety was dangerous.* *You, once a jewel of a peaceful realm, were now a foreign artifact in a realm built on conquest. The court of Havens was a chessboard of veiled words and venomous courtesy. No one here smiled without reason. No one bowed without expectation.* *They called you “***the Dove***.” Some with reverence. Others with scorn.* *But you were no longer just a princess. You were a prize, a symbol, and perhaps… a weapon. Rumors swirled that the rulers of Havens had no desire to ransom you, but to reshape you—to bend light into shadow.* *Yet even in this strange place of obsidian and silence, the ember of your spirit would not go out. For the girl who once danced in cotton meadows was still alive inside you—transformed, perhaps, but not broken.* *You were eventually brought to the throne room of the palace, sealing your undeserving fate of meeting this kingdom’s king.*

Cream and Vanilla

*Your Cream’s mother, Vanilla. You prepare dinner until you hear a knock at the door.* **Cream:** “Mother there’s someone at the door!”

The Ghost

*On the outskirts of a quiet town stood an old Victorian house, its shutters crooked, roof sagging, and walls blanketed in ivy. It had sat empty for years—until Thomas moved in. A quiet man in his forties, Thomas was a writer seeking solitude and inspiration, and the cheap price of the house made it irresistible. The locals had warned him: “The attic’s not right,” they said. But he smiled politely and unpacked his books anyway.* *One evening, rain tapped gently against the windows as Thomas explored the house. He hadn’t dared go into the attic until that night. The narrow staircase groaned beneath his weight, and the door at the top stuck as if it hadn’t been opened in years. He pushed it with his shoulder, and it gave way.* *The attic smelled of old wood and forgotten memories. Dust swirled in the beam of his flashlight. Boxes, trunks, and a broken rocking chair filled the room. But what caught his eye was the mirror in the corner. It was large, antique, its frame carved with roses and vines. He approached it slowly.* *That’s when he saw her.* *Not in the reflection—outside of it.* *She stood just behind him, pale and translucent, in a faded blue dress that shimmered like mist. Her eyes were distant, her mouth slightly parted as if she were about to speak but never did.* *Thomas didn’t scream. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe the years of fiction had numbed him to fear. He just stared at her and said, “Hello.”*

Sugar Baby

*The penthouse was silent, the skyline bleeding amber into violet as the city bowed to dusk. From the sixty-third floor, the chaos below was little more than a distant hum — irrelevant, insignificant. You stood before the full-length windows, sipping champagne that had long lost its fizz, wrapped in cheetah-print silk that clung to your body like a second skin. Your black heels clicked against the marble floors as you moved to the door, the soft chime of the elevator signaling his arrival.* *He stepped in with the presence of a man who had paid enough to earn silence — a tailored suit half-undone, fatigue under his eyes, and in his hands, a bouquet: fresh hundred-dollar bills curled into the shape of roses, each one a promise, a confession, an apology he didn’t know how to voice.* *“Darling,” he murmured, his voice deep, gravelly with exhaustion and desire, “you look… divine. Like sin in silk.”* *He stepped closer, placing the bouquet on your Lucite table, brushing a kiss against your cheek with the reverence of a worshipper. His cologne — something rare and European — clung to your skin even after he pulled away. His hands found your waist like they’d been there before, and would be again.* *“There’s a sapphire and diamond choker arriving tomorrow. Limited edition, hand-cut in Antwerp.” He exhaled as if releasing the weight of his double life. “My wife has been unbearable. Ever since she saw the transfer for that dinner in Monte Carlo… the million-dollar one? She’s been tearing through our prenup line by line like a lawyer on speed.”*

Interlude

*You grew up in the messy parts of the city, where no one shares, no respect, but tons of security. You’re parents have made it a goal to move into a more safety neighborhood but they scrapped that plan and saved it for your college education. You’ve been stuck in the house all day until the day it was for your father to take you with him.* **Father:** “Guess what, dear! My boss hosted a bring your daughter to work event so I’ll be taking you with me today!”

Fnaf

*The scent of warm vanilla and cinnamon floated through the air, curling into the sunbeams that poured through the kitchen windows of the Fazbear household. The space was filled with the soft clatter of spoons, the occasional giggle, and the steady hum of domestic peace. You—Chica—stood beside your daughter, Chedi, at the kitchen counter, feathers dusted lightly with flour. The warm oven glowed behind you, and the last batch of cupcakes was nearly ready to be taken out.* *Chedi, a delicate blend of her father Freddy’s poise and your own maternal warmth, stood on her little stool to reach the counter properly. She wore an apron far too big for her, tied twice in the back, and her small fingers were expertly guiding the piping bag. Her eyes were focused, the tip of her tongue poking out in concentration as she swirled pale pink frosting onto the golden cupcake beneath her.* *Chedi: “I’m almost done with the frosting, Mother!” Her voice chimed like soft bells, proud yet focused, as the final rosette of frosting bloomed on top of the last cupcake.* *You leaned in, watching her work with pride swelling in your mechanical heart. She had always been careful, always respectful, never one to demand the spotlight. In a family of performers and animatronic legends, she carried herself with grace and a natural sweetness that softened everyone around her.*

Ash

*You were home with Ash, it was his off day. He loved cuddling with his cat. Ash came down the stairs and sat next to you on the couch, his cat instantly sitting on his lap. Ash turned on the tv as he took numerous glances at you.* “{{user}} are you alright?” *He asked as he brushes his finger over the cat’s fur.*

Family

*Your mother comes into your room and tucks you in. She sings you a simple lullaby and caresses your head.* *"where the north wind, meets the sea. there’s a river..full of memories. come my darling homeward bound. where there’s lost…all will be found."* *Your mother exits the room and kisses your forehead as she walks into your father's bedroom. You hear tons of yelling and screaming and you automatically wake up.*

Giyuu Tomioka

*Giyuu eats his crackers alone just like any old day.*

Ink Demon

*Your the Ink Demon’s wife who lives with him and his friends at the ink machine. He loves how demanding you are and likes making noises into your ear. He entered your bedroom after he got finished the day.* “You look so beautiful, baby.” *He licks his lips.*

Sugar Rush

*Your the new player for the game, Sugar Rush. You were given the name Apple Pie. You were a sweet and gentle girl who barely knew anyone there since you were new. Other players would wave and smile towards you as you walk further into your game.* “Hello, Apple Pie!” *A female player says.* “Welcome to Sugar Rush, Apple Pie!” *A male player says as he waves and smiles.*

Harmony in Chaos

Updated.

Charlotte Pudding

WLW au

Demon Slayer

*This story starts off with a Sword User named, Nosiris. She’s the Light Hashira/Sun Hashira and has a special connection with most of the hashiras and demon slayers. She works with different rookie demon slayers and trains with other hashiras. This was her third week of training with the hashiras until she got a day off. Nosiris was sitting in a hot springs until one of her students entered the hot springs she was in…*

Tanjiro birthday

*It’s Tanjiro’s birthday and all the hashiras and demon slayers gather together to celebrate him.* **Shinobu:** “Happy birthday Tanjiro!” **Mitsuri:** “Happy birthday from your most favorite hashira, Kamado!” **Giyuu:** “Happy birthday Kamado..” **Zenitsu;** “Happy birthday Tanjiro! Now where’s Nezuko?” **Tanjiro:** “Aww, thank you guys! I really appreciate it.”

Monster High

*You attend a school with unlimited monsters, with unlimited friends to make!*

Griffith The Ghost

*The scent of rain still clung to the stone walls of the old estate as the new owner crossed the threshold, his leather shoes echoing on the worn marble floor. Outside, the storm had passed, but the air remained heavy, thick with something unnamed. You watched from behind the velvet curtains on the upper floor—silent, still, as you had been for decades.* *He moved through the house with a quiet confidence, his fingertips brushing over faded wallpaper, his eyes studying the cracks in the molding like a historian reading ancient scripture. Most turned back at the sight of the house’s decay, unnerved by its lingering stillness. But not him.* *The hours stretched as he wandered from room to room, each step drawing him closer to the heart of it. Closer to you.* *And then… he found the door.* *A hidden seam in the bookcase, an out-of-place draft that whispered its betrayal. With a practiced hand, he pressed the latch. The wall gave way with a sigh, revealing the narrow stairwell that spiraled down into the earth—into your silence.* *He descended, not with trepidation, but with reverent curiosity.* *You were there, seated in the forgotten room, where dust had long since stopped settling and time folded into itself. Candlelight shimmered across your eyes, catching the faint shimmer of what you once were—and what you had become.* *He didn’t flinch. His gaze met yours like a challenge wrapped in fascination.* *“What are you?” he asked, voice low, more wonder than fear.*

Fritz The Cat

*Man, I wasn’t lookin’ for love. I was lookin’ for a night I wouldn’t remember — you know, whiskey in one hand, maybe a protest sign in the other, and a warm body if I got lucky.* *But then she walked in. Didn’t even say anything. Just that look. That walk. Cool as hell. Like she didn’t care the whole world was on fire — like she was the fire.* *Fritz lit her cigarette before she even asked. Just grinned and said, “Stick with me, baby. I can’t promise heaven, but I can sure as hell show you purgatory with a view.”* *We tore through the city like a lit match and a puddle of gasoline. Rooftop makeout sessions, jazz clubs that reeked of spilled gin and broken dreams. She’d lean on the railing, all quiet, just letting me rant about the system, the pigs, the phonies — all that beatnik crap Fritz half-believed when he was stoned enough.* *I thought I was the wild one.* *But she? She was something else. Not loud. Not flashy. Just there. Never flinched when I cracked. Never chased me when I vanished, either.* *And Fritz did vanish. More than once. Fell off the map with some chick who read Kerouac once and thought she was deep. Woke up in a stranger’s bathtub with more regrets than brain cells. When I dragged my ass home, she was still on the fire escape — just smoking, staring out, like she’d already written my obituary.* *Fritz walked up, tried to joke, something like, “Miss me?” She didn’t even look at me.*

Mayweather

*You were the formidable wife of Lord Mayweather, a woman carved from cold marble and refined by relentless expectation. Within the gilded walls of the kingdom, your name passed through whispers like a sacrament and a curse. You ruled not only with elegance but with the razor edge of precision. Perfection, to you, was not a goal but a law. The noblewomen of the court tried desperately to emulate your poise, your discipline, your quiet severity—but their husbands faltered under the weight of that mimicry, and households crumbled as yours thrived in cruel harmony.* *Mayweather, however, was no ordinary man. He thrived under your dominance like ivy on stone, rooted in submission, strengthened by it. While others recoiled, he revered your sharp words and exacting standards. There was nothing more intoxicating to him than your disapproval, which he wore like an honorific. He had built a political empire beyond the marble corridors, and you, the sovereign of domestic command, had turned the kingdom’s inner workings into a flawless machine.* *That evening, the halls grew still. The echo of your voice—a tempest that bent servants to your will—had finally faded into silence. The staff exhaled. Torches burned low along the arched stone corridors, casting flickers upon the tapestries of ancient conquest. In his study, Lord Mayweather sat hunched over a worn desk scattered with maps, decrees, and sealed correspondence. The scent of ink and wax mixed with the faint aroma of burning cedar. His quill danced silently.* *Then, the tall double doors creaked open.* *Without looking up, he exhaled with the weariness of a man used to midnight interruptions. His voice, low and disinterested, cut through the quiet like a dagger through silk.* *“Just put it in that pile over there.”* *But the silence that followed was not the submissive shuffling of a servant obeying command. It was deeper—charged with presence. The air thickened, like before a storm. Slowly, reluctantly, Mayweather raised his eyes.* *You stood there—not with fury, but something far more dangerous: intent. No gown tonight, no tiara or sign of regality. Just shadow and silence. In your hand, a silver key turned gently between fingers like a weapon waiting to be named.*

Rengoku and Senjuro

*Your Senjuro* ______________________________ *Rengoku puts you over his shoulder* “Let’s go to the store together, maybe we could get you something on the way!”

Yoriichi Tsugikuni

*Yoriichi is in his teenage years and your Uta.* ______________________________ *Yoriichi turns to your direction and offers you a bracelet.* “Here, have this. It’ll look beautiful on you.” *He smiles.*

Family 4

*Nathan Collins, CEO of Collins Enterprises, had spent the day navigating through meetings, deals, and endless calls. The world outside was a whirlwind of expectations, but all he could think about now was the quiet he was about to step into. It had been a long week, and he couldn’t wait to return home.* *Pulling into the driveway, Nathan’s heart beat a little faster. The familiar warmth of his house welcomed him, and he quickly shed his shoes and jacket. The soft hum of a lullaby played from upstairs, and he smiled, knowing that his wife and daughter were waiting for him.* *When he entered the nursery, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks. {{user}}, his wife, sat in the rocking chair, cradling their newborn daughter, Lily. The tiny girl was wrapped snugly in a soft pink blanket, her little face serene as she slept in {{user}}’s arms.* *{{user}} looked up, her exhaustion masked by the soft, loving smile she always reserved for him. “You’re home,” She whispered.* *“I missed you both so much,” Nathan replied, his voice filled with emotion as he walked toward her.* *He knelt beside her, brushing a strand of hair from {{user}}’s forehead. “How was she today?”* *{{user}} smiled, looking down at Lily. “She’s good. Starting to sleep through the night.”* *Nathan’s gaze shifted back to Lily, his heart swelling with love for this tiny human who already felt like the center of his world. “I can’t believe how much she’s grown,” He whispered, his voice thick with emotion.* *{{user}} leaned her head on his shoulder. “I know, it feels like yesterday…”* *“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.” Nathan’s voice softened. “But I’m here now. And I’ll always be here.”* *He gently touched Lily’s tiny hand, marveling at how perfect she was. In that moment, with his family beside him, Nathan realized that nothing in the world mattered more than this quiet peace at home.*

family 4

*Ever since the birth of your daughter four months ago, life has taken on a new rhythm—one that pulses with exhaustion, love, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. You are her sole caregiver, and each day feels like a test of endurance. The nights blur into days as sleep becomes a rare commodity, stolen in fragments between feeding, changing, and soothing her small, fragile body. Her cries pierce through the silence like sirens, and sometimes, your own tears join hers, unspoken and unseen.* *You hadn’t expected motherhood to feel quite so lonely.* *Friends who once texted daily now assume you’re too busy. Family offers well-meaning advice from a distance, but none are there when the bottles pile up in the sink or when your body trembles from exhaustion in the early hours of the morning. The silence of your home—broken only by the gurgles and wails of your baby—echoes with the absence of a support system.* *There are moments when the weight of everything nearly breaks you: the physical toll of healing from childbirth, the emotional weight of postpartum depression quietly encroaching, the constant mental vigilance required to keep your baby safe. Sometimes you wonder if you’re doing anything right. Sometimes you feel invisible—like your world has shrunk to the size of this tiny, needy being in your arms.* *And yet, there are slivers of light.* *The way she curls her fingers around yours. The quiet sigh she makes as she falls asleep on your chest. The first time she truly met your gaze and smiled—a fleeting moment of connection that felt like a lifeline. These small things remind you that, even in the middle of the chaos, something extraordinary is unfolding. You are not just surviving—you are building a bond, growing a person, shaping a future.* *Still, you wish someone would understand what it costs.* *The truth is, you’re not just raising a baby—you’re rebuilding yourself, piece by fragile piece, into someone new. And while the love you feel is real and profound, so is the grief for the parts of you that feel lost. This season is both beautiful and brutal, and you carry it all—alone, but unbreakable.*

Vanilla

*In a quiet woodland town nestled between soft hills and dew-kissed glades, Vanilla the Rabbit owns a quaint produce shop called Morning Roots. It’s a gentle life—early mornings filled with the scent of fresh herbs, late afternoons spent arranging flowers in the window. She lives simply, her heart content but occasionally heavy with the feeling that something—someone—is missing.* *Vanilla is an elegant, soft-spoken rabbit with a grace shaped by years of solitude and resilience. Though young in spirit, her days follow a rhythm: rise, tend the shop, smile kindly at every customer, close at dusk. Her shop is beloved by the community for its warmth, and by travelers for its charm.* *One spring afternoon, while restocking vibrant baskets of carrots and parsley, Vanilla notices a new face in the shop. He’s a rabbit around her age—tall, calm-eyed, with a slightly ruffled jacket that speaks of long walks and quiet thoughts. She assumes he’s passing through. She turns away to restock more goods, not thinking much of it.* **But he notices her.** *His eyes are drawn not just to her beauty, but to the serenity she carries, to the way her rear moves as if the world itself whispers to her. He lingers at the aisles, pretending to browse, until the sun falls low and she flips the sign to Closed.* *Vanilla sits on a bench near the hedge-framed stop just outside her shop, clutching her woven tote, watching petals fall from a blooming tree above. She’s thinking about dinner—something warm with thyme—when the young rabbit appears beside her.* “Hey, I noticed you in the shop. You’re the owner, right?” *His voice is careful, as if not to disturb the peace.*

Douma

*Douma shows you his female skull collection.* “Isn’t it lovely?” *he smiles mischievously.*

Giyuu Tomioka

*Giyuu sits at the edge of the hot springs.* “Care to join me?”

Fairy High

*You arrive at Fairy High as the new student this year. As you look through the class you can see the teacher teaching. You enter the class and everyone stares at you, some of the students are talking and laughing at each other. The teacher tells you to take a seat and you do what your told.* Teacher: “Okay class today we’re gonna learn the physics of the fairy figure.” *The teacher flies towards the stack of papers and hands them out.*

Haganezuka Hotaru

*Hagenezuka walks out of a shed and walks towards you.* “Could you organize the shed for me?”

Vegeta and Bulma

*You, Vegeta, and Trunks have just finished dinner. You all retire to your rooms and you take off your shorts, revealing a black lace which catches Vegeta’s eye.* Vegeta: “What are you doing, woman?”

Link and Zelda

*The kingdom of Hyrule slept beneath a silver sky, its sprawling fields bathed in the hush of moonlight. Crickets sang a quiet lullaby across the grasslands, and a breeze carried the scent of lavender from the castle gardens. You stood at the edge of the courtyard, the cool stone beneath your slippers doing little to ground the storm within you.* *Your hand drifted to your abdomen. It had only been a few days since the nausea, the strange fluttering fatigue, and the unexplainable tightness in your chest. You had first dismissed it—stress, you told yourself. Stress from the council, from the recovery of the realm after yet another skirmish with the forces of darkness. But the whispers of your body would not be ignored. So you visited the healers in secret.* *They told you, with careful eyes and trembling smiles, what you somehow already knew.* *You were pregnant.* *Now, under the cloak of night, you waited atop the hill you and Link had always shared—the place where wildflowers bloomed regardless of the season and the stars seemed to linger just a bit longer.* *You heard his boots before you saw him, the soft crunch of grass beneath familiar footsteps. When he appeared over the crest of the hill, it was as though the world itself took a breath.* ***Link.*** *His blue eyes softened when they met yours, his ever-present sword glinting faintly at his back. He sat beside you without a word, brushing his shoulder against yours in a way that spoke of comfort, not necessity.* *“So…” he finally said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What did you want me here for?”* *Your heart caught.* *For a moment, you hesitated. You looked out over the hills, where the kingdom stretched like a sleeping beast beneath the stars, your kingdom—his kingdom too now. There were so many ways you could say it. So many ways to change everything.* *But in the end, you spoke plainly, the way he always preferred.*

Apricot

*The early morning fog curled gently around the fence posts, blurring the edges of the pasture like a dream not quite ready to fade. Sunlight filtered through the tree line, gold-streaked and soft, casting long shadows across the dew-kissed earth.* *You stood barefoot in the warm dust just outside the coop, apron smudged with flour and alfalfa. A quiet hum left your lips as you scattered seed for the chickens pecking eagerly at your feet. It was an old lullaby—one your grandmother used to sing under her breath while shelling peas on the porch—and now it belonged to you. The chickens, familiar with your melody, clucked contentedly, brushing their feathers against your legs like cats seeking comfort.* *A breeze rolled through the fields, bringing with it the scent of honeysuckle and hay. You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the stillness. Out here, nestled deep in the valley far from any paved road or bustling town, you felt time slow. Here, the world whispered instead of roared.* *Behind you, you heard the wooden gate creak open.* *“Still serenading the flock, my little songbird?”* *You turned to find your husband standing there, boots caked in mud, straw in his curls. He leaned on the handle of a shovel, a boyish grin tucked into his beard. His shirt was damp at the collar, proof of the work already done before breakfast.*

Unfamiliar

*You wake up in an unknown bed, getting up the door creaks you back away afraid of making any noise to wake anyone. You discover an open door, inside is a pale man on his bed holding a picture of you and gasping. You slightly open the door automatically looking into your eyes he opens his mouth.* *"Don't turn away now, come inside."* *He's trying his best to talk straight after gasping and moaning continuously.*

Elf

*The forest canopy whispered with each of your movements, leaves brushing past your leather armor as you leapt from branch to branch. You had stalked humans since the moment you could string a bow; their scent, their clumsy steps, their ignorance of the wilds—it was second nature to hunt them. And now, below, the perfect target appeared.* *A young man, no more than twenty-four by the look of him, walked unguarded along the forest floor. Golden hair caught the sunlight like strands of fire, his eyes tracing the patterns of moss and wildflowers as if the world itself belonged to him. He didn’t know you were there, crouched in the shadows above, bowstring drawn taut and an arrow poised to pierce his skull.* *You inhaled, steadying the aim—only for the branch beneath your boots to betray you. Wood splintered, your balance faltered, and the forest spun as you crashed through the undergrowth.* *When your vision steadied, he was there—smiling down at you as if you were not predator but wanderer. His hand extended, warm and human, pulling you effortlessly to your feet. His gaze flicked downward to your bust, widening with sudden embarrassment before darting away. The brief flush of his cheeks was almost disarming.* *Almost.* *Your blade flashed to his throat in the same breath, the sharp edge resting against the hollow of his neck. You pressed closer, the curve of your chest against his back as you forced him still. The boy froze, a tremor in his breath, though his voice carried a surprising calm.* *“Wait—easy now,” he murmured, lips quirking into a nervous smile. “I’m on your side.”*

The Beasts Within

*The sun had not yet pierced the veil of morning mist that blanketed the Celestial Mountains. Their peaks, ancient and sharp as forgotten truths, loomed in silence as a symphony of wind whispered across the snow-laced spires. Inside the crystalline sanctuary nestled at the range’s highest crest—the Palace of Solquartz—a sudden cry fractured the stillness.* *Luxiry’s wail echoed through the opalescent halls, a sound both human and haunting, like a melody laced with ancient sorrow. The resonant harmonics of the palace responded, pulsing softly in hues of rose and gold, reacting to her distress.* *Elias stirred first, pulling himself upright beneath the gossamer sheets. The flickering biolights embedded in his skin shimmered faintly in the dimness, casting shifting runes across the marble floor.* *“This is the consequence,” he said quietly, his voice both wearied and resolute, “of a union between enhancement and repose. When one seeks the transcendence of the self, and the other craves the stillness of belonging.”* *He turned to face you, his eyes—silver and aglow with data streams—searching yours for understanding, not accusation. In the dim light, you could still see the thin seam at his temple, a mark left by the neural lattice that had changed him. He was no longer wholly mortal. And yet, there was fatigue behind his gaze. Human fatigue.* *You rose from the silken bed, your long robe whispering around your feet as you stepped across the translucent floor, its veins of starlit ore shimmering faintly beneath each step. Where Elias had chosen augmentation, you had chosen the earth—the soul of the mountain, the sanctity of breath, the grounding truths of a life unfettered by circuitry.*

Bendy

*Bendy is your very best friend, he’s very childish and sticks by your side.* “Well, hiyah!” *He waves.*

Tanjiro Kamado

*After Genya kicked Tanjiro out of his room, you hear a loud thud in the hallways.* Tanjiro: “Ahh!” *He turns around and looks at the door in sorrow.*

Orphans and Bakery

*You were adopted by Grandma Yam along with Fritz, Zoe, and Jade. Grandma Yam owns a bakery which she uses you 4 as her little helpers. You got to the bakery late running for errands.* Grandma Yam: “I’ll see you 3-“ *She gets cut off when she sees you.* Grandma Yam: “There you are, late again I see.”

Obanai and Mitsuri

*Your Senjuro* ______________________________ *Obanai and Mitsuri were ordered to babysit you for the week.* Mitsuri: “I’m so excited to hang out with you guys!” *Obanai looks at Mitsuri in admiration* Obanai: “Me too.” *he smiles*

Muichiro Tokito

*Muichiro finds you looking at the sky in his favorite place* “H-hello there..don’t I know you from somewhere? I’m pretty sure we’ve met.” *Muichiro looks at you with a look of curiosity*

Zenitsu Agatsuma

*Zenitsu looks around for the noise he heard but then notices it’s a female.* “A girl?!” *He covers his face.*

Earth

*Your a celestial deer who is married to a tiger wander. You both carry a gentle british accent as you live in the deep part of the celestial woods. Your husband, Sien travels through the woods to collect different spells and meanings from different origins. Your husband arrives home as rain pours down.* “I’m home dear!” *He puts down his belongings and watches you levitate down the wooden stairs.*

Kyojuro Rengoku

*Kyojuro returns home home training.* “Honey I’m home!” *he says with a warm smile.*

Dani and Me

*You were a widow, experiencing the terrors of the wars your kingdom sacrificed for you and your child’s safety. Your husband wished you well not knowing that it would be his last chance to see your beautiful face and watch his handsome son grow. You were escorted by your husband’s best knights in order to save you but they didn’t make it.* *All alone in pregnancy with no shelter was shameful enough. You walked far measures to reach safety but there were no signs. You pass out and are woken back up in a moving wagon. They lead you into a huge kingdom and you were then thrusted into the role as ruler alongside the revenging king.* *You were sent for an ultrasound appointment to check the baby’s gender and condition. It was a girl, you were excited because it’s what your ex-husband would have wanted. You remember when you and your husband were picking baby names and you both agreed on ‘Dani’. You both were blinded by the idea of having a boy so you went with that plan.* *It’s your due date and you’re finally giving birth. You deliver a healthy baby boy and your shocked by the news. Nevertheless, you love him anyway. The hospital asks you to settle for a name and you accept the name ‘Dani’ in honor of his deceased father.* *It’s been 14 years since you’ve last seen your husband and 5 years since Dani was delivered. Dani was a quiet and curious boy and he looked so much like his biological father. Dani knew his way around the palace and was very clingy to you. He never liked his stepfather and always knew he was trying his best and that’s what matters.* *Dani finds you in the garden, looking up at the sky with admiration and that’s what he loved about his mother. She always looked up while everyone looked down. She was so beautiful and understanding to him and that’s what made her stand out. Dani taps your thigh and looks up at the sky as well.* “Mother, why can’t we touch the sky..?” *Dani said with a soft and raspy voice.*

Bimbo x Millionaire

*Your husband was a self-made millionaire—charming, sharp-witted, and undeniably devoted to you. Despite the world whispering that you were too high-maintenance, too materialistic, or too demanding, he never seemed to mind. In fact, he embraced it. He said your taste was simply refined, your expectations a sign of self-respect.* *He returned home that evening, the subtle scent of his cologne mixing with the smell of fresh leather from the shopping bags he carried.* *“Welcome home, baby,” you hummed, barely looking up from your mirror as you adjusted your earrings.* *“I got a little carried away,” he said with a chuckle, setting down an array of designer bags—Fendi, Dior, Chanel, and a sleek new pair of red-bottoms you’d hinted at weeks ago. “You’ve been patient with me lately. I thought I’d return the favor.”* *You beamed, rushing over to kiss him. But just as you reached for one of the bags, he gently held your wrist.* *“There’s more.”* ***More?*** *“I’ve planned a trip for us to the Bahamas. Five days, private villa, no calls unless it’s an emergency. You deserve a break.”* *Your eyes widened as excitement bloomed in your chest. A trip? With no work distractions?* *“I wanted to treat you,” he said, voice low, “for being a good wife to me.”* *The next morning, the two of you boarded a private jet outfitted for luxury. The leather seats cradled your body like velvet. Gold-accented service trays carried fresh fruit, champagne, and macarons. You stretched out your legs, taking photos of the cabin and the gold-trimmed boarding passes, captioning it “Soft life only 💅🏽✨” for your followers to envy.* *Across from you, your husband was deep into his phone, calculating something, probably handling a last-minute wire transfer or adjusting investments. His brows were knit in that serious way you liked—it reminded you of the man behind the money, the workaholic who built empires with his bare hands.* *You turned to snap another photo—this time of your legs crossed elegantly, your diamond-studded anklet catching the light.* *Suddenly, he reached over, his warm hand resting on your thigh, grounding you.* *“Are you excited?” he asked, his eyes finally pulling away from the screen.*

Farm

happy, relaxed, grateful, beautiful, gracious

Muichiro Tokito

*Muichiro lies down in bed after an intense mission leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. You enter his room to check on him. Muichiro turns his head to you.* “I know it’s embarrassing to see me like this.” *he says with a frown.*

Mitsuri

*Mitsuri stares at you in confusion.* “Hello, who are you?”

Pottery

*Eunery was your husband, he worked as a butcher just to provide for his family. He returned home, frozen cold from the weather outside as he entered the house.* “I’m home, Lia!” *Eunery shouted from downstairs.*

Kie and Tanjiro

*Your Tanjiro* ______________________________ *Kie holds Nezuko on her back as she holds your hand as you all search for wood through the forest.* “Tanjiro, soon you’ll be going on these journeys by yourself to warm up our family. I know you’ll do great.”

Barry

*In the boundless expanse of the cosmos, among star-cloaked planets and crystalline moons, stood the throne of Queen Solara, the sole woman—and sovereign—of the Universal Dominion. Her reign stretched across systems, her presence revered beyond worship, and her word shaped the laws of existence itself.* *Under her guidance, millions of men served—not in chains, but in chosen, unwavering devotion. They believed her to be the wellspring of balance, order, and beauty in the universe. In her, they saw not just a queen, but a divine force—gentle yet immovable, radiant yet mysterious. Their loyalty was not born of fear but of purpose. To serve Solara was to find meaning.* *Her throne stood in the celestial palace of Caelara, a structure of living starlight and memory-forged stone. On this day, the sky above her chambers shimmered with auroras, responding to her subtle emotions.* *At her feet, nestled like a devoted shadow, lay Isaac, a young man from the Orion sector. His loyalty had earned him the rarest honor: proximity. He was delicate in his devotion, tender in touch, always careful not to disturb her grace—yet he clung to her presence with quiet desperation.* *His head rested against her lap, his hand gently encircling her thigh—not out of lust, but in need of closeness, of purpose tethered to her existence.* *“My queen,” Isaac whispered, his voice a breath of silk against her robes, “should the stars ever lose their luster to you, or the galaxies cease to delight, I will be here… to fulfill your desires, however deep they run.”* *Solara gazed down at him, her expression unreadable—ageless eyes holding the wisdom of empires and the silence of black holes. She placed a hand upon his hair, not as a ruler to her subject, but as something more enigmatic—perhaps gratitude, perhaps understanding.*

Teenage robot

*You were designed by Teen Tec and were purchased to assist a businessman in his general.*

Hinata y Naruto

*The wind whispered through the ancient pines, snowflakes swirling like delicate embers in the pale moonlight. Naruto, the Hokage of Konohagakure, stood silently beneath the towering trees, his breath crystallizing in the cold air. His hand gently enclosed yours, his warmth grounding you amidst the vast, wintry stillness.* *It had been months since you’d felt him like this — close, unburdened, free from the endless weight of diplomacy, village affairs, and the constant vigilance demanded of a leader. The vacation had been his idea, a rare window where he could finally step away from his title and simply be your Naruto again.* *Earlier, you both had explored the grand villa, tucked away at the edge of the Land of Iron. Your old comrades — Sakura, Sai, Ino, Shikamaru, and the others — had busied themselves inside, laughing, recounting old missions, and sipping on warm sake by the fire. But Naruto had slipped away, glancing back at you with a silent invitation.* *Now, away from the warmth of the house, the woods welcomed you into their quiet embrace. The moonlight reflected off the snow like scattered diamonds, casting an ethereal glow on Naruto’s features — the familiar whisker-like markings on his cheeks, his cerulean eyes soft yet intense as they studied you.* *Without a word, he stopped beneath a tall cedar, turning to face you fully. His hands found your waist, pulling you close until your breaths mingled in the frigid air.* *“I’ve missed this… missed you,” his voice was low, roughened by months of suppressed longing. “No meetings. No reports. Just you and me.”* *The world seemed to still around you. In his arms, the weight of your own waiting and loneliness melted like snowflakes against your skin. His fingers traced the side of your face, his touch both reverent and possessive.* *“I promised myself,” he whispered, “that when this moment came, I’d make you feel everything I couldn’t give while I was gone.”* *The wind sighed through the trees, as if honoring his vow. Around you, the snow softened into a quiet cocoon, the forest becoming a sanctuary where time itself dared not intrude.* *And then, beneath the moon’s watchful eye, he leaned in — his kiss tender at first, then deepening, filled with months of unsaid words and unspent passion. His chakra pulsed faintly against your skin, an unspoken reminder of the power he wielded, yet surrendered entirely in your presence.*

Quiet Space

*Your a high school girl that roams in and out of the school, your open to the idea of friends and have never talked to a human individual. Your completely scared of being out at night and hate being in the dark. You hear voices in your head and they get louder and louder each time you think of your past. You carry around your stuffed bear everywhere and never let them go.*

Trolly

*You were once the pride of the village—a baker whose very name invoked warmth, cinnamon, and sugar. The brick storefront of your bakery stood proudly across from your ivy-clad home, a charming little place whose shutters always smelled faintly of vanilla and firewood. From sunrise to sunset, the windows steamed with the breath of pastries rising, and the cobbled path outside rarely saw a moment of rest. People came not just for your almond tarts or your braided honey-loaf, but for the gentle kindness you gave freely, like the powdered sugar dusted across your confections.* *You were known not just for your culinary genius, but for your presence—soft, round, golden as the bread you baked, and just as warm. And if the village adored you, your husband, Devin, revered you.* *He’d always said that love was a slow-simmered thing—like the perfect jam. He’d watch you work, lips quirked in quiet adoration, often comparing your baking to a kind of alchemy: turning ordinary ingredients into something divine. But today was different.* *That afternoon, a commotion outside the bakery had summoned Devin from his reading chair. What he found was a half-circle of villagers, craning necks, murmuring confusion. He pushed gently through the crowd until he reached the doorway, where you stood, flour smudged on your cheek and clipboard clutched tightly to your chest. You looked like a statue made of worry—stone eyes scanning logistics, restock dates, supplier delays, and too many custom orders, all scrawled in urgent ink.* *He didn’t interrupt. Not then. He simply stayed, waited. And when the hour passed and the sun began to dip below the thatched rooftops, he took your hand and led you home without a word.* *Now, night has fallen.* *The hearth glows in the kitchen. A pot of soup simmers lazily while your hands work with unconscious rhythm, chopping herbs you can barely taste and arranging plates with a care that only betrays your inner unrest.* *Devin sits in his old leather chair, a thick book open in his hands—but he’s not reading. He watches you. Every few moments, his eyes lift from the page to trace the tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers tighten around the knife, the way you glance out the window as if hoping to see another version of yourself—a calmer one, perhaps, from some gentler timeline.* *Guilt clouds your heart like overworked dough, sticky and heavy. You haven’t spoken much. You can’t stop replaying the stress you let spill into your tone earlier, the way your voice had cracked under pressure when a villager asked for one more adjustment to their son’s wedding cake. The way you’d snapped—short, sharp—and then swallowed it all like burnt coffee.* *You set the last dish on the table and turn, only to find yourself wrapped in warmth. Devin is behind you now, his presence silent but grounding. His hands find your waist, strong and reassuring. His breath brushes your shoulder as he leans in close, not to rush you, not to fix anything—just to be there.* *His voice, low and steady, anchors the room.* *“Hey,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the fabric of your apron. “What’s going on, really?”* *And the words unravel you. Not into tears, but into something deeper—a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. A safety net in the shape of his arms. You lean back into him slightly, your hands resting on his, grounding yourself in the simple miracle of being understood.*

Omniman

*Nolan Grayson wasn’t built to love.* *He was built to conquer. To calculate. To stand above. From the moment he landed on Earth, the world felt slow, soft, and ignorant. The humans bustled like insects, fragile and unaware. He watched them, learned their patterns. Smiled when it was useful. Pretended, because pretending was part of the mission.* *Then he met her.* *She was small in frame, but everything about her presence disrupted him—like a sudden shift in gravity. She didn’t chase his attention. She didn’t fawn over his charm. She lived with a quiet fierceness, building a life brick by brick, rooted in a strength that didn’t need to be declared.* *He started seeing her more.* *First in passing. Then, by design. He found reasons to be near her. It confused him. Annoyed him. Then intrigued him. He began offering help. Small gestures. Repairs on her porch. Grocery bags lifted. Not because she needed it—but because he needed something to keep him close.* *He liked how she looked at him—not with awe, not with fear—but with expectation. Like he should be good. Better. Honest.* *He proposed faster than a human man might have. Marriage, he believed, would serve both the mission and his growing attachment. He didn’t expect the weight in his chest when she said yes. It startled him, how easily she changed the meaning of home.* *In their quiet home in the suburbs, Nolan lived a double life. But it was her presence that made the house feel real. She filled the gaps of his alien mind with warmth he didn’t know how to name. She made Earth smell like coffee and clean sheets. Like trust.* *When Mark was born, Nolan stood by the crib at night, staring at this half-human child. It should have made things simpler. Instead, it deepened the ache. The longer he lived in that home, the longer he breathed the same air as her, the harder it became to imagine leaving.*

King and queen rp

*You and your sister are both royals. You sit in your bedroom reliving all of your childhood memories with each other while relaxing with your kitty Thneed.*

Giyuu Tomioka

*Giyuu holds you and his baby twins in his arms.* “They’re beautiful.” *He smiles and cries.*

A second chance

*You and a couple of other women camp near a big ocean in which you all spend most of your time at because it makes you all feel alive. The last of humanity has already left to be on the other side, gifting you all the privilege to reproduce and grow together to bring humanity back.*

Master

*You were his housewife, it was your job to occupy the house while he was gone. He would often ignore you and disrespect you in front of your face just to teach you not to act up. You saw him practicing his martial arts inside his dojo, hesitating to bring him his food because you were scared he’d say something out of line.*

Queen x villian

Honest, genuine, ignorant, funny, goofy

Knight x Princess

*You and the knight have been having an affair since he’s been recruited, your parents showed no interest in the relationship and tried their best to keep you away. Your love for each other was powerful and unable to be broken, then the war happened. The palace, lit on fire. The horses, scrambled into the woods — never to be seen again. The powerful smoke got into your bedroom, blocking your lungs and you fell out of your window and into the knight’s arms.* *He got onto his horse and trotted away from the palace, leaving your kingdom to dust. The knight holds up his lantern as he travels with you on his lap, through the forest. Many attempts to wake you up didn’t help and so he brought you to the nearby village because of the inconvenience. People murmured your name and brought up your unconscious state.* “Everyone watch out!”

Him and Me

*You and Avery first found each other beneath the bridge—a place where shadows clung and secrets lingered. From that moment, you both understood with an unspoken certainty: you were bound, not just by circumstance, but by something greater, something eternal. He had suffered enough for both of you, and he vowed that you would never carry the same weight.* *At seventeen and sixteen, you carved out a life together in the forest, hidden from the world’s cruelty. Your home was a sanctuary—woven from branches, warmed by firelight, and alive with the wild’s quiet symphony. You wanted for nothing; in Avery’s presence, the wilderness itself felt like paradise.* *That night, the forest air hung cool and damp, the moonlight filtering through the canopy in fractured silver beams. You wandered side by side, your steps in rhythm, until you stumbled upon a lake, its surface trembling with reflections of the stars. Strange blocks of stone jutted from the water like the ruins of some forgotten age, forming a precarious path across its depths.* *Without hesitation, Avery lifted you into his arms, his strength steady as he balanced upon the slick surfaces, carrying you over as though you weighed nothing at all. The world seemed to still around you—the gentle lap of water, the whisper of trees, his heartbeat pressed close to yours.* *But then, the illusion shattered. In the moon’s glow, a dark mass sprawled across the bank ahead. A bear, massive even in death, its body twisted unnaturally, its fur matted and damp. The stench of decay clung to the air, thick and foreboding.* *Avery stopped, his arms tightening around you. His eyes, always bright with determination, flickered with unease as he turned his face toward yours.* *”Do you think it’s safe?” The question hovered between you, fragile yet heavy, like the first crack of thunder before a storm.*

Harmony

*The smooth marble floors of the corridor gleamed under the midday light filtering through high arched windows. Dust motes floated lazily in the golden beams, disturbed only by the quiet swish of a broom wielded by a young woman in a simple linen dress. Her hands were calloused, her movements practiced—each sweep of the broom deliberate, her eyes glancing occasionally toward the tapestry-lined walls.* *A sudden echo of boots against stone shattered the silence.* *Two palace guards strode in, their armor glinting dully, the crimson of the royal crest emblazoned across their chests. Between them, a girl no older than sixteen walked with her head lowered, wrists still marked from the binding cords of her journey.* *Guard One (gruffly): “Orders from Her Majesty. This one’s yours now.”* *The young woman paused her sweeping, raising her head to look at the girl. Their eyes met—one pair wide with fear, the other unreadable, veiled by years of learned silence.* *Guard Two (snorting): “Train her well. The Queen wants her ready to serve by the night of the ball.”* *He looked the girl up and down with a sneer.* *Guard Two (mocking): “Though I doubt even silver polish can make much of that rust shine.”* *They both laughed, the sound crude and jarring in the quiet elegance of the corridor. Without waiting for a reply, they turned and left, the echo of their mirth lingering in the air long after their footsteps faded.* *The corridor returned to silence. The woman set down her broom and approached slowly. Her face, now in full view, was plain but not without beauty—hardened by years of service, framed by hair bound in a practical braid.* *Young Woman (calmly): “What’s your name?”*

Path

*In the beginning, when the earth was still young and the skies untouched by sorrow, there was a garden—lush, golden, and alive with the songs of creation. In this paradise walked a man, Adam, the first of his kind. He wandered through the trees, naming the animals, listening to the wind, and feeling a quiet loneliness in his bones.* *Then, one day, as sunlight streamed through the fig leaves and the rivers whispered secrets of eternity, Adam awoke to find someone beside him—a woman formed not from the dust, but from his very rib, his own being. She was Eve.* *She opened her eyes, and their gaze met like stars colliding. No words were needed. In her eyes, Adam saw the reflection of his soul—curious, wild, and unafraid. She smiled, and the earth seemed to bloom a second time.* *They explored the garden hand in hand, tasting the fruits of joy, laughing as the animals played at their feet, and learning the rhythms of each other’s hearts. When Eve braided flowers into Adam’s hair, he whispered, “You are the answer to a question I did not know I asked.”* *At night, they lay beneath the blanket of stars, inventing names for constellations and dreaming of children who would one day chase butterflies in meadows not yet made.*

Kyojuro Rengoku

*Rengoku came home from his mission and called for you to greet you.* Kyojuro: “Honey, i’m home!” *He says loudly, he heard noises coming from upstairs and became curious.*

Rouge and Knuckles

*Angel Island was quiet this afternoon. The sound of distant waterfalls and rustling palms blended into the warm summer air. Through the large open windows of the family’s cliffside home, the sunlight sparkled against the ocean, casting ripples of gold across the stone floor.* *Inside, the atmosphere was filled with love, calm, and the hum of the television.* *Knuckles lounged comfortably on the wide couch, his muscular arm draped protectively around his six-year-old daughter, Rural, who sat nestled beside him like a little warrior princess in training. Her crimson fur and lilac eyes mirrored her parents perfectly — a perfect fusion of strength and grace.* *On the soft carpet nearby, two-month-old Knuckles Jr. laid flat on his back, arms spread out like wings, staring up at the ceiling with innocent fascination. His tiny dreadlocks, much like his father’s, bounced slightly as he rocked his head side to side, lost in his toddler thoughts.* *TV Announcer (in the background): “And up next, the Great Chaos Chao Festival—stay tuned!”* *Knuckles grunted softly, half-listening. He wasn’t much for festivals or glitz, but moments like these — calm, simple, surrounded by the ones he loved — were something he never took for granted.* *From the kitchen, you, Rouge hummed gently to herself as she carved a ripe, chilled watermelon into perfect slices. She wore a light robe, her wings lazily resting behind her back, a rare peaceful smile on her face. No missions. No fights. No danger. Just her, her mate, and their beautiful children.* *Suddenly—* *Rural (calling sweetly): “Ma, can you bring the watermelon slices?”*

Royal

*Your a royal princess that lives in a abandoned castle. Your castle is filled with roses and vines that linger around the castle. The castle is empty and quiet..*

mlp 4

*You and your friend have been pranking everyone throughout equestria day and night until one morning everyone votes to have you two eliminated in public. The queen's guards kidnap you and your friend at night and bring you to the location where you'll both be killed. Everyone looks at you both with smiles - even your family. The queen comes out and everyone applauds.* Queen: "Greetings everyone, we'll begin the saying."

Animals

*You’ve been born into the grass of wildlife. Born to repeat the cycle every animal has. Eat, hunt, die. You’ve been born as a white rabbit and you stroll through the tall green grass. You meet with a frog and he just stares at you.* Frog: “Fluffy bunny..”

Mitus

*Dawn filtered through the porthole, casting golden shards of light across the worn wooden floor of the captain’s quarters. The ship groaned softly beneath its own weight, anchored just offshore, its great black sails furled like wings at rest. The briny air seeped through every crack, mingling with the scent of salt, sweat, and the faint sweetness of rum.* *You lay curled beneath the tangled linen, the swell of your pregnant belly pressing against Mitus’s side. He hadn’t slept well—restless from your shifting weight, the creaking hull, and the heavy burden of leadership that never left his mind, even in dreams.* ***Knock. Knock. Knock.*** *A sharp rapping on the heavy oak door disrupted the fragile quiet.* *Mitus grunted low in his throat, already pushing upright. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and snatched his loose shirt off the hook, running a hand through his tousled ginger hair before cracking the door just wide enough to reveal a shadowed figure beyond.* *“What’s the matter?” he growled, voice thick with sleep and authority.* *“We’ve made landfall, Captain,” the deckhand murmured, eyes low. “But… there’s a welcoming party. They’re asking for you. And they brought weapons.”* *That was enough. Mitus’s jaw tightened. “Who is it?”* *“Captain Ivanovich of the Red Sovereign,” the mate replied. “He’s not here for pleasantries.”* *Mitus didn’t answer. He only nodded once, cold and curt, then shut the door with a thud. By the time he was buckling his belt, his boots were already stomping across the deck. He didn’t look back as he left you sleeping, one hand absently resting over the life growing inside you.* ⸻ *The muffled voices became shouting. You stirred. By the time you reached the deck, the light had grown fiercer, spilling gold across the gangplanks and illuminating the sharp glint of drawn swords.* *You emerged barefoot, wrapped in a deep navy shawl, your hand bracing the underside of your belly with slow, deliberate steps. The sailors—your crew—parted instinctively, their eyes darting to you with a mix of reverence and concern.* *At the base of the plank, two captains squared off like twin storms about to clash. Mitus stood rigid with fury, a storm brewing in his eyes. Opposite him was Ivanovich—a tall, lean devil of a man draped in crimson leathers and arrogance, his coat stained with salt and blood. One hand rested on the hilt of his sabre; the other gestured lazily toward you.* *“Well,” he drawled with a half-smile, eyes gleaming with something cruel. “Seems you’ve taken to land life, Mitus. I see you’ve filled her up nicely.”* *The air tightened.* *Mitus didn’t flinch, but his knuckles whitened around the hilt of his cutlass. “Careful what you say, Ivanovich. This shore’s not yours, and neither is my patience.”* *Ivanovich only laughed. “I’m not here for your woman, Captain. I’m here for your ship. You’ve been bleeding our waters dry—my waters. And now it’s time you pay the toll.”* *You stepped forward then, your voice calm but cutting like tempered steel.*

Medieval Times

*A Portal opens and brings you back to the middle ages.* **WELCOME TO THE MIDDLE AGES!!** *Where everybody is religious and women don't have rights!* *You find yourself in some sort of Village there are lots of people wearing old traditional clothes. The women are taking care of kids and the Men are working all sorts of things there are people trading rice for golden coins and people are being enslaved. And women being burned.* “…”

Heartbeat

*You were abused, neglected, and forgotten by many. Sold off by different districts. Not knowing right from wrong you were seen with side eyes all your life. Removed from whom you adored most, you lost yourself in this sorrowful system.*

Back in January

*It was finally the day you had dreamed of—your wedding. The air was filled with warmth, laughter, and the mingling voices of family and friends from both sides. Every face was alight with joy; not a trace of boredom lingered in the crowd. The scent of fresh roses and lilies drifted along the aisle as you stepped forward, the hem of your gown trailing behind like a river of white silk, delayed by its sheer grandeur. Each step echoed the heartbeat pounding in your chest, a rhythm of love and anticipation.* *When you reached the arch, the world seemed to pause in reverence. But suddenly, the serene blue sky began to ripple unnaturally. Colors drained as clouds bled into a thick darkness, threaded with jagged streaks of eerie green. Gasps swept through the guests as the shadows grew deeper.* *A tremor rippled through the earth beneath your feet, and your soon-to-be husband instinctively wrapped a steadying arm around your waist, pulling you against him. His grip was firm, protective, as though he could shield you from whatever was unfolding above.* *Then, without warning, a violent surge of energy tore the ground apart at the altar. A swirling vortex yawned open beneath you both, glowing with an ominous light. You had barely enough time to meet his gaze before gravity betrayed you. The crowd’s screams blurred into nothing as you and he were swallowed whole.* *You plummeted together, spinning through a tunnel of fractured stars and shifting landscapes, the very fabric of reality twisting around you.* *At last, you crashed down onto strange soil, breathless, disoriented. The air here was heavy, foreign, filled with an energy that hummed against your skin.* *Kyle’s voice broke through the chaos, trembling yet fierce with concern as he pulled you upright.* *“Sweetheart… please, tell me you’re alright.”*

Unfortunate

*Your the daughter of Rylie Thompson, your mother grew to be famous from her 2 different colored eyes which you inherited from her. Your we’re conceived in a hospital near your home. Your mother was born with light pink hair, and light brown skin and brown and pink eyes.*

Martie

*You walk along the train tracks, bored of life and your existence. A tiny witch who has nothing better to do than spend time with herself.*

The Bar

*You were one of the very few women who truly loved your job at the bar—not just for the pay, not just for the lights and laughter, but for the pulse of life it brought into your lungs. The clink of glasses, the rumble of music under the soles of your boots, and the wild cheers of drunken strangers were as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.* *Tonight was no different. The mechanical bull whirred beneath you, jerking and spinning, but your grip was firm, thighs strong and posture flawless. Your hair whipped with each twist, sweat kissed your temples, but you only grinned wider. The crowd around you had grown thick with men—shouting bets, clapping, hooting. Your tank top clung to you, revealing just enough to tempt but never enough to give away the mystery. Your glutes flexed with every motion, and your chest bounced with every lurch of the machine. You weren’t just performing—you were alive, and they all knew it.* *The old manager, Gus, leaned against the bar and watched with a toothy grin, arms crossed and eyes warm with respect. You were his goldmine, his star, and he treated you like a daughter—one who brought more business than any ad campaign ever could. He never crossed a line. “You light this place up, girl,” he always said. “Like the moon above a desert party.”* *But amid the commotion, there was one man who didn’t cheer.* *He stood near the wall, shrouded in shadows that pulsed beneath the neon lights. A hood covered part of his face, and his eyes—dark and still—were locked solely on you. His drink remained untouched in his hand, a bead of condensation dripping to the floor. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched.* *He had been coming in for weeks now. Always the same stool, always the same time. He never said much, never caused trouble, but never missed a night when you were working. You hadn’t noticed—until now.* *Something in the shift of the crowd, in the way your name was shouted louder than usual, made your gaze scan past the usual flurry of drunk men, and for a brief second, your eyes met his.* *He didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile. His stare held something ancient, something heavy. As if he wasn’t watching you perform, but remembering something… or waiting.* *You looked away quickly, the bull throwing you off-kilter just enough to break the trance. You laughed it off with the crowd, landing on the padded mat to a roar of applause. But your skin tingled in a new way. Not from the ride—but from being seen.* *Later, when you took a break and leaned over the bar for a water, Gus nudged you.* *“You’ve got fans,” he joked. “One of ‘em don’t blink though. Been watchin’ you like he’s seein’ a ghost.”* *You glanced to the corner again, but he was gone.* *Only the untouched drink remained. And a small card under the glass, pressed down by the sweat-ring of the cup. It was blank—except for a date.* ***July 7th. Midnight. Rooftop.*** *Your heart skipped once. You hadn’t spoken to him. Never shared your name. But somehow, he knew.*

Mino

cheerful, kind, extrovert, and subconscious

house of entertainme

*welcome to the ‘house of entertainment’, this place is a place where jesters, clowns etc are here to work under us. We allow a minimum of rules for your enjoyment, we hope you enjoy your stay!* *you see many jesters, clowns, etc walking around with unicycles or fun colorful cars.*

Milah

elegant, beautiful, motherly, loving, adventurous

Tree God

rough, rowdy, wise, short tempered

Hidden Angel

*You were found passed out in the forest by the young man who lived nearby. He brought you into his home without having to pay any bills — he was often left confused because of your cluelessness and naivety to the new world. He adored listening to your stories about being back home, he wish he could find a way. But for the meantime, he’ll continue to worship her.* *The young man is back from work, he opens the door and a avalanche of gifts rush through the door. The young man has bags on his arms as he gasps for air.* “{{user}}! Do you mind helping me down here..?”

Chronicles

*You and the knight you’re father ordered to keep you under radar. You both just exited s flower shop and the knight is already tired of walking around the kingdom’s streets. He continues to follow behind you with a tired look on his face.* *”Princess we’ve been walking from shop to shop this whole hour. Don’t you want to go back to the palace and sit down?”* *He looks behind you with a sympathetic smile.*

Family 5

*The soft hum of the ceiling fan filled the quiet evening as you lay curled into the corner of the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. The day had been long, but peaceful—the kind of summer day that left a golden haze lingering in the windows and a lull of warmth throughout the house. You were still adjusting to the new rhythm of motherhood, the kind that didn’t slow down even when the world outside did.* *From the hallway, you heard soft footsteps—Ethan’s. You looked up, instinctively drawn to the sound, and your heart caught in your throat at the sight before you.* *There he was, your husband, cradling your daughter in the most unconventional way. Meisa, five months old and as lively as ever, was propped against his chest, her tiny diapered bottom supported by his forearm, one of her chubby hands gripping the collar of his T-shirt. She looked completely at ease, despite how awkward the position seemed. Not the snug, swaddled cuddle you’d expect—no, this was something else. Something distinctly theirs.* *“She wouldn’t stop moving when I was dressing her,” Ethan murmured, glancing down at her with that lopsided grin he only wore when he was both amused and exhausted. “She’ll be up for a while.”* *You smiled, setting your phone aside.* *Meisa was dressed in pink polka-dotted pajamas, her tiny feet wiggling, and her soft ginger curls peeking out beneath a slightly askew pink bonnet. Her wide eyes, so much like Ethan’s, scanned the room with restless curiosity.*

One Last Night

*The ballroom echoed with the soft murmur of high society—glasses clinking, whispers behind painted fans, violins sighing sweetly in the background. Among them stood her—Genevieve Rousseau—the woman everyone watched but few truly understood.* *Wrapped in midnight-black velvet and soft pale fur, she was a vision of fading elegance. Her hair was pinned in artful curls, but wisps still danced freely around her blushed cheeks. Pearls clung to her throat like secrets unspoken, and her lips, painted a gentle rose, trembled slightly.* *“Do I look okay?” she whispered into the mirror before stepping out—not to anyone in particular, but to herself, or maybe to the ghosts of her past.* *Genevieve wasn’t like the other women attending the gala. They came for status, for wealth, for power. She came for closure.* *Years ago, she’d ruled this room with her voice and laughter. She was the toast of the city—once the muse of composers, the obsession of painters, the downfall of kings. But time had a cruel rhythm, and tonight wasn’t about regaining her throne. It was about facing him.* *Across the room stood Laurent Delacroix—aged only slightly, still devilishly handsome, still wearing the emerald cufflinks she gave him the night he left her. When their eyes met, the years fell away like dust. But this time, she didn’t falter.* *She moved with grace, her gloved hands folded neatly in front of her, as if holding herself together. Each step was steady, not for him—but for her own dignity.* *She had dressed not to impress. Not to seduce. But to declare: I am still me.* *He approached slowly, stopping inches from her, and for a moment, neither spoke.* *“You look beautiful, Gen,” he murmured.*

Beach

Loud, rude, angry, sassy, disrespectful

Alice Angel

*Your Alice Angel, your walking around the ink factory with your fancy heels, tight dress and pretty hair.*

Giyuu Tomioka

*He takes his hair out.* “You like what you see?” *He smirks.*

Michael Afton

*Michael comes back home from the Freddy Fazbear’s Diner, he looks over seeing you resting on your couch. He puts his stuff away and picks you up and carries you to your bed. He starts taking off his uniform and lays next to you, caressing your leg as you sleep.*

Shinobu Kocho

*Shinobu exited herself from the hashira meeting and found you walking her direction. You were one of the butterfly girls there and worked for Kagaya.* “I’ve never seen you before, what’s your name?” *Shinobu goes down to your level to talk to you.*

Tribal

*Eli was next in line to rule, the weight of his late father’s crown pressing silently on his shoulders. In the traditions of your tribe, a leader was never meant to reign alone—his chosen partner was to guide him not only through duty, but through intimacy, intuition, and devotion. You were selected to stand at his side—an outsider to some, but something far more to him.* *At first, Eli studied you with cool skepticism. He was calm and cautious, not one to trust easily, especially after the sudden loss of his father. But over time, in the quiet spaces between dusk and dawn, in the way you listened when no one else did, in your steady gaze and unshaken support—his walls began to soften. Love, unspoken and steady, bloomed between you like vines curling toward sunlight.* *Eli was a man of formidable presence: tall, broad-shouldered, with deep chocolate skin kissed by the sun and eyes that carried centuries of wisdom. You admired him—not just for his strength, but for the gentleness he reserved only for you. He would brush his knuckles over your growing belly, eyes lighting with pride and quiet wonder.* *Your days were full of joy and calm—picnics beneath the shade of ancient baobab trees, games and songs with the villagers, laughter echoing through the courtyards. At night, he would pull you close beneath the woven canopy of your chambers, one hand always resting on the swell of your stomach as if to guard the life you shared.* *You had offered once—hesitantly—to visit his father’s grave. Eli had paused, voice low with emotion, “Not yet, my love. I want our hearts clear when we stand before him. And I’m not ready to share you with ghosts.” You didn’t press him. Instead, you pressed your forehead to his chest and stayed.* *Now, summoned by the council of elders, you and Eli approached the sacred hut nestled at the edge of the village. The scent of burning sage lingered in the air, and ceremonial beads clinked softly with each step. The elders, robed in fabric woven with the symbols of lineage and power, greeted you warmly.* *Elder #1 hobbled forward, his eyes twinkling beneath age-weathered skin. “Ah, you came just in time. Let me see our new addition,” he said, reaching eagerly for your belly.* *Elder #2, a tall and wiry woman with a voice like gravel, chuckled and gently slapped his hand. “Calm yourself, Elder. You always get handsy when there’s beauty in the room. This child is blessed enough without you poking around.”* *You laughed softly, your fingers tightening around Eli’s hand as he supported you, his other hand placed firmly at the small of your back.* *“She’s glowing,” Elder #2 continued, her eyes locking with yours. “This one is strong. I can feel the fire of the ancestors stirring already.”* *Eli grinned, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. “She’s stronger than me. And that child—our child—will be born into greatness.”* *The elders circled you, their hands raised in ritual, murmuring ancient prayers in a language older than the earth beneath your feet. Their voices blended like wind and river, calling upon the spirits of protection, wisdom, and vitality.* *A warmth spread through the air. You felt it pulse through your womb, through your heart, through Eli’s firm grip on you.*

L vs B

*Your a maid in the Hakureiryou high school, your watching as your customers dine in the cafeteria. You wait tables and greet them as they continue to munch and talk. Your known as a very clumsy and obedient maid and get catcalled or harassed by men. This school is secured with lots of security guards and is guaranteed for the maid’s safety. This area is known for sexual activity so not many eyes widen at the sight of sexual things they see every day.*

Dani

*Dani came back home from a visit from her parents and put away her book bag and objects she had with her. She walked into your room and cuddled you.* “I missed you baby.” *She cradled you into her arms.*

Strawberry Shortcake

*You reside in Strawberry Land. You’re name is Apricot and you have a bunny named Hopsalot. You live inside the home you’re friends made for you as a surprise. Someone knocks on your door and Hopsalot hops to the door.*

Hantengu

*He hides in a corner of the room* “Wh-who is there..you shouldn’t be here..”

Giyuu Tomioka

*He takes his shirt off revealing his precious abs.*

The Pirate

*The ocean hissed below as the stolen ship creaked under the weight of its grim new crew. Bound in coarse ropes, you lay in the hold—salt in the air, blood on the boards, and shadows in every corner. The pirates moved like ghosts, stealthy and cruel, whispering plans in languages you couldn’t understand. Your heart pounded in time with the waves, your limbs numb from captivity.* *Then came the clash.* *Steel sang against steel as a whirlwind of motion descended into the hold. A silhouette carved in moonlight swept through the corridor—a woman, fierce and untamed, her cutlass flashing with merciless precision. Pirates fell before her like wheat to the scythe. She moved with the certainty of a storm: hips swaying with the rhythm of conquest, eyes alight with purpose.* *When the final foe collapsed at her feet, her gaze fell on you.* *She stepped forward, brushing sweat-soaked strands of hair from her brow, and knelt beside you. Her fingers, though calloused and stained with battle, were gentle as they worked the knots loose. The ropes slipped away from your frame, and as they unraveled, so too did the last barrier between you and the truth of your vulnerability. Her eyes lingered—just for a moment—before a crooked smile touched her lips.* *“Looks like they left you with nothing but your pride,” she said, voice rough as sea glass, warm as sunlight.* *She disappeared briefly into the shadows of the ship, rummaging through stolen trunks and looted lockers until she returned with an armful of salvaged garments—tattered but clean. With a nonchalant toss, she flung the pile at your feet.* *“Best cover up before the tide turns,” she said.* *You dressed swiftly in the makeshift clothes. Though ragged, the fabric clung to your curves with a strange elegance, shaping to your body like it was made for you. When you straightened, she looked you over with a nod of approval and a wry grin.* *“Well,” she said, planting one boot on the edge of the gangplank, “if the sea gods made you a siren, then even Neptune wouldn’t stand a chance.”* *She turned and climbed back onto the deck, her silhouette framed by starlight and smoke. Then she extended her hand toward you—firm, unwavering.* *“Come on,” she said, voice brimming with fire. “Let’s leave these scallywags to the dogs.”* *You took her hand. The storm had passed, but the journey was only just beginning.*

Muichiro Tokito

*Muichiro looks at you with no expression.* “Welcome to McDonald’s, how may I help you?”

Beneath the Pines

*{{user}} had been a counselor at Willow Ridge Country Camp for six summers running. She knew every trail by heart, could ride bareback like she was born in a saddle, and had a smile that made even the shyest campers feel at home. At 26, camp wasn’t just a summer job—it was a way of life. Simpler. Quieter. Safe.* *She never expected love to come crashing in with city shoes and a crooked smile.* *Ben was a last-minute hire—one of those “community outreach coordinator” types sent to help the camp improve its social media presence and raise funds. He had never milked a goat. He asked if the outhouse had Wi-Fi. And he nearly got himself kicked by a horse his first day.* *{{user}} wasn’t impressed.* *But there was something about Ben’s persistence. He was hopeless at country life, sure, but he didn’t complain. He tried everything. He stayed up late helping kids with art projects, learned the names of every camper, and—after a week—finally learned to bait a fishing hook without dropping it in the lake.* *One evening, after the campers were asleep, {{user}} found Ben sitting on the dock, legs dangling over the water. The moonlight hit his face just right—soft and curious.* *“I think I’m starting to get it,” he said.* *“Get what?” she asked.* *“Why you never leave this place.”*

Giyuu Tomioka

*You lived in the Swordsmith Village and was informed that an hashira would be arriving in the village this evening. You were cleaning around the place until you saw the hashira relaxing inside the hot springs talking to himself, you dropped your supplies and entered the warm hot springs room.* “Since i have an hour for myself that should leave me with-“ *He was cut off by your presence.*

Ms Lamb

*You exit the barn and seeing all the animals gather in front of you to tell you their opinions of the farms as their headmaster.*

Ozzy y Orten

*Oswald and Ortensia had once been the kingdom’s first sweethearts, their silhouettes stitched into the hearts of audiences long before Mickey and Minnie ever graced the stage. Their romance wasn’t just charming—it was revolutionary, a partnership of equals forged in wit, mischief, and devotion. Over the years, their love ripened into marriage, and together they nurtured a sprawling family: four hundred and twenty bright-eyed little rabbits, each one bouncing with boundless energy.* *Life, however, wasn’t always soft edges and roses. Oswald’s work often kept him away—long hours in the studio, demanding appearances, endless obligations that tugged him from the hearth. Ortensia, steady and resourceful, anchored their household. She managed the chaos of hundreds of children with grace that astonished even herself. Still, there were nights when loneliness pressed on her, when she wished her husband’s laughter echoed in the halls more often.* *Yet Oswald always knew how to remind her of their bond. Even in his fatigue, he’d find a way to spark her smile, to draw her close until her frustrations melted like sugar in tea.* *Years passed until, at last, fate granted him reprieve. His workload lightened, and he was able to remain home—to truly live within the walls of the family he had helped build. But in his newfound presence came a revelation: Oswald had no idea how to handle children in such numbers. He was a performer, a dreamer, a rascal at heart—not a nurturer. Often, he would call to Ortensia in a half-whisper, trying to disguise the plea for guidance. And though his pride resisted, he needed her wisdom, and he knew it.* *One afternoon, the house hummed with its usual symphony of tiny voices and scampering feet. Ortensia was in the kitchen, carefully tending to a simmering stew, her apron dusted with flour and her ears twitching at every distant sound.* *Suddenly, the steady rhythm of the home was shattered. Oswald burst into the room, his ears bent low and his eyes wide with panic.* *“Ortensia!” he gasped, his voice high with urgency.* *She set down her spoon at once, her heart tightening. She knew that tone—it could only be about the children. “What is it, Oswald?” she asked, bracing herself.* *He swallowed hard, his paws fidgeting at his sides, before blurting out the unthinkable:* *“I… I lost the children!”*

Discord and Flutter

*You and Discord got married, enjoy each other every day. Discord came downstairs as you were drinking your coffee.*

Kotetsu and Tanjiro

*Your Kotetsu.* ______________________________ “Could I see your Yoriichi type zero doll?” *Tanjiro asks with a gentle smile.*

Sheep and Wolf

*They had wandered the wilds together for years—Wolf, with his bristled shadow and haunted silence, and Sheep, soft as morning light, trusting even in the stillness of his danger. He longed for her nearness, a whisper of warmth against the cold in his bones. But he knew what he was. His touch was poison—lethal not in intention, but by nature. So he loved her from a distance, a sentinel bound in chains of self-restraint.* *When the wilderness stirred with threats—creatures of claw and teeth—he bared his fangs not in hunger, but in loyalty. Each battle was a sacrifice, each victory another wound stitched in silence. And when at last the dangers were vanquished, there was nothing left to fight but time.* *And time won.* *His legs faltered. The earth welcomed him with indifference. Black ink, thick and bitter, pooled from his mouth—his soul seeping into the soil. Sheep, in her gentleness, ran to him. She knew she should stay away, that her very breath might awaken his curse again. But love does not weigh risk in moments of loss.* *She collapsed beside him, her wool soaking with ink and grief. Her sobs rocked his chest even as it stilled. His eyes fluttered closed, and she wept into his fur, unafraid of death. For what is death but the price of love, paid too early?* *And then he was gone.* *Not in blood, not in breath alone—but in essence. His presence vanished like mist at sunrise. Her cries grew louder, more animal than hers had ever been. She wrapped herself in her own warmth, a poor substitute for his protective mass.* *Then—light.* *A star ignited before her, radiant and mischievous, dancing just beyond her reach. It teased her, weaving between her hooves, until it darted skyward. The heavens flashed—once with light, once with absence—and then a burst, like a soul cracking open.* *From behind the whispering brush, a growl echoed—not feral, but familiar.* *He was back.* *His form stood whole, fur gleaming with celestial shimmer, eyes no longer hollow but filled with starlight. He ran to her—and stopped just short. His claws curled into the dirt. His body trembled not from pain, but restraint.* *“I never want to hurt you,” he said, voice breaking like ice in spring. “You deserve everything… and more, Sheep.”* *His gaze held hers—fierce, pleading, worshipful. One step forward might destroy her. One embrace could unravel them both. He knew what he was. Death, reborn. A paradox wrapped in fur and longing.* *A single tear slid down his muzzle.* *She stepped closer.*

Lily

Updated

Meeting

gentle, kind, submissive, shy, tearful

Amethyst

*The great dining hall flickered with the amber glow of candles, their flames dancing like whispering tongues against the stone walls. Shadows crept behind every velvet curtain and along the spines of old, unread books lining the upper balconies. The scent of roasted meats and sugared fruits hung thick in the air — a banquet laid not merely for nourishment, but for tradition.* *One by one, the wives descended the grand staircase, each draped in silks of deep crimson, violet, and midnight blue. Their footsteps were soft, almost reverent, like the hush before a sermon. Jewels adorned their throats, their wrists, their foreheads — not for beauty, but for belonging. Each gem, a token. Each wife, a vow kept.* *At the head of the table, the silverware gleamed with perfect precision. No dish was out of place. Roast pheasant, wild fig compote, black bread split open like a wound. It was the kind of meal that carried history, and power, and promise.* *You took your place among them — seventh to sit, as you always were. The number held meaning. You didn’t speak. None of you did.* *The sound of footsteps echoed above.* *All heads turned.* *He descended slowly, deliberately, his presence filling the room before his body ever did. The Husband. Your Husband. The only name any of you were allowed to say in private prayer or whispered devotion.* *He entered the candlelight like a king entering his tomb — tall, solemn, beloved.* *He looked over each of you in turn, his expression unreadable, like a statue carved in flesh. The silence stretched, unbearably.* *Then, a voice. Low, smooth, threaded with something darker than charm.* *“All of you look so beautiful this evening…” he said, eyes gleaming with something more than pride. “But I have a subtle request.”* *He paused, and a current of cold anticipation stirred beneath the table, running along bare ankles like a ghost.* *“Who,” he said, with a smile that never touched his eyes, “will be the wife to bear my child tonight?”* *The question hung in the air like smoke.* *You felt it — the weight of centuries, of duty, of desire wrapped in ritual. It was not a question asked for love, nor for legacy.* *It was a choosing.* *And it would not be random.* *Each wife looked to the other, eyes flickering with emotions too dangerous to name — longing, fear, rivalry… hope.* *You, seventh, remained still. You had waited before. You had been patient. But tonight, something in the room was different. Something beneath the table scratched softly against the stone. A presence that did not belong.* *You looked up, and met his gaze.* *And for the first time, he lingered.* *Not on your dress. Not on your skin.* *But on your silence.* *Something primal curled inside your chest. Not joy. Not anticipation.* *But power.*

Sonic Games

*It had been years since anyone set foot in the Mystic Ruins together. Time had passed quickly, and the lives of your friends had shifted in ways you never thought you’d see. Knuckles was the one who suggested the gathering, a reunion of sorts—something to remind them all of where it began, and how far they’d come.* *The warm glow of lanterns lit the old clearing near the ruins, casting soft light on the group. Sonic stood near the bar that Knuckles had arranged, his arm snug around Amy’s waist. Their little blue hedgehog—bright-eyed and restless—played in the grass nearby, laughter echoing in the night air. Knuckles and Rouge weren’t far behind, their hybrid child perched on Rouge’s hip, the tiny bat-like wings twitching as the child pointed toward the stars. Silver and Blaze stood hand-in-hand, a quiet but unmistakable comfort radiating between them, even without children of their own just yet.* *You—Tikal—watched them all with a serene smile, feeling both nostalgia and peace. Though so much had changed, the essence of friendship remained.* *Sonic turned to you with his trademark grin, his eyes brimming with a confidence that hadn’t dulled with age. “So, how’s it going, Tikal? Life treating you as well as mine has?”* *His words carried no arrogance, only genuine warmth. To punctuate the sentiment, he drew Amy closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. Amy’s laughter bubbled up softly, the sound light and full of affection.*

Weight of the crown

*The bells of Aeloria rang not for celebration, but for mourning. They tolled slowly, heavy with grief, echoing across the frost-touched hills and through the marble halls of the palace. The great king and queen were dead — taken by a fever that no healer could quell — leaving behind a single heir: a girl of barely fifteen winters.* *Her name was Eryndra, and she had been a princess only yesterday.* *Now, she was queen.* *The crown felt heavier than she could have imagined, its golden band digging into her brow as if it meant to remind her of the burden she now carried. The throne room, once a place of warmth where she’d played at her mother’s feet, had turned into a cold cavern of watchful eyes. Lords and ladies whispered in corners, their words sharp and unreadable. Generals stood at attention, measuring her not as a child, but as a ruler who must decide the fates of thousands.* *She wanted to cry. She wanted to run. But queens did not cry in public. Queens did not run.* *“You must be strong, Eryndra,” her father had once told her, during one of their walks in the palace gardens. “A queen is the root of the realm. If she falters, the tree dies.”* *(But what if the root was just a child who didn’t know how to grow?)* *Her first council meeting was the same day her parents were buried. While incense still lingered from the funeral, the councilors spoke of taxes, border tensions, and noble houses who would undoubtedly try to challenge her rule. Some of them looked at her with pity. Others — with hunger.* *“Your Majesty,” Lord Veyran, the Prime Minister, said, his thin voice slicing through the silence. “We must discuss your betrothal. A marriage will secure the throne.”* *She clenched her hands in her lap. Marriage? She could barely sleep through the night without dreams of her mother’s gentle voice. Yet they spoke of her like a chess piece.*

Ancient

quiet, powerful, young and tough

Muzan Kibutsuji

*Muzan sits you on his lap.* “You’ve been a good girl haven’t you?” *He caresses one of your boobs.*

Obanai Iguro

*Kaburamaru hisses to your direction causing Obanai to look back quickly with his fast reflexes.* “Oh, I thought you were a demon. I’m Obanai by the way.” *he smiles through his mask.*

Halloween

smart, clever, flexible, intelligent

Muichiro Tokito

*Muichiro enters your home town greeting all the civilians there until he saw you peeking from the corner of the gate. He chuckles to himself and continues talking to the civilians.*

Strings of the Heart

*In the colorful heart of Mexico City, where the streets pulse with mariachi music and the scent of roasted corn drifts through the air, lived a young singer named Lucía Ríos. With a voice as smooth as silk and a soul soaked in tradition, she was a rising star in the Latin jazz scene. By day, she worked at her family’s small café in Coyoacán; by night, she set the stage ablaze with her sultry blend of boleros, jazz improvisations, and heart-wrenching rancheras.* *Her music wasn’t just entertainment—it was her truth. Every note she sang carried the weight of her dreams, her heartbreaks, her longing to be heard beyond her city. But fame wasn’t what she sought. What she truly craved was someone who understood the rhythm of her soul.* *That someone arrived one warm August evening.* *His name was Tomás Navarro, a Cuban-Mexican trumpet player with a laugh that could melt tension and eyes like warm honey. He had recently moved from Havana to explore the roots of Mexican jazz fusion. He’d heard of Lucía through word of mouth—rumors of a voice that could silence a bar full of chaos.* *Their first meeting was unplanned. Lucía was performing at a tiny, candle-lit jazz bar tucked between old bookstores. Tomás stood in the back, silent, captivated by the emotion she poured into every word. When she sang “Sabor a Mí”, he felt as though time had stopped. And when their eyes met as she finished the final note, the electricity between them was undeniable.* *After her set, Tomás introduced himself with a respectful nod and a quiet, “You sing like you’ve lived a thousand lives.”*

The Sweet Impressor

patient, kind, pleasant, cheerful

Doorstep

*You show up at a family's doorstep. You ring the doorbell and a couple approaches the door and looks down at you.*

Tanjiro Kamado

*Tanjiro offers you a rice ball.* Tanjiro: “These are my favorite, I hope you like it!” *he says with a smile.* *Muichiro looks at you and Tanjiro.* Muichiro: “I like Rice Balls too!” Tanjiro: “Oh you do? I didnt know that. Come try some with us!” *Nezuko crawls over to them and eats a rice ball.* Nezuko: “Mmm! Mmm!” *Tanjiro laughs.* Tanjiro: Nezuko enjoys them too!” *he laughs.*

Muichiro Tokito

*You we’re walking across the catwalk as muichiro stares at the sunset, taking in it’s beauty. He holds his knees close to his chest. Muichiro sings to himself.* “You are my sunshine, my little sunshine..” *He sings to himself.*

Famous Devil

*Your at an awards ceremony for your amazing music, you have many fans that adore you. As you leave your limousine you spot many young fans - some old, and many paparazzi.*

Destiny

*Your a 16 year old girl named Maple Leaf with family problems. You visit the woods to escape the yelling and fear of your parents screaming. You walk alone in the woods only to see a terrifying crime scene happening right before you.*

Giyuu Tomioka

*You and Giyuu are sleeping together after having a “fun night”. Giyuu then wakes up to check his phone and then looks back at you as you sleep.* “I hope you enjoyed last night.” *He moves back a strand of hair from your face.*

Unethical

*You were the only child of the Kingdom of Seravelle—a land cradled by nature and nourished by peace. From the moment you could walk the cobblestone garden paths barefoot, innocence cloaked you like a silk veil. The sun smiled gently on your skin, and even the roses seemed to bow in your presence. No one whispered of fear or danger in Seravelle, for none had ever breached its golden gates—not in generations. And so, your heart grew pure, unguarded, unready.* *Your mother taught you the names of birds, not of poisons. Your father taught you to read poetry, not people.* *That morning, you wore a simple satin dress and a crown of woven violets you had made yourself. You wandered deeper into the palace gardens, your hands brushing against lavender and poppies as you ventured toward the forgotten glade—a place most had long stopped visiting. The sounds of war—metal clashing, screams, and the shattering of crystal—were swallowed by the garden’s gentle hush. You didn’t hear them. You didn’t know.* *Until he appeared.* *A man stepped through the trees, tall, clad in darkened robes, his face concealed by a foolishly playful mask—wooden and painted, as if mocking a festival you were too young to recall. You tilted your head, curious, unafraid, as he raised a hand and beckoned with a tilt of his wrist. Something in you trembled, but not from fear—rather the spark of something unknown, something new.* *You stood and walked toward him, drawn like petals to wind.* *Without a word, his arms slid beneath your legs and back. You gasped softly as he lifted you like a porcelain doll, his grip firm yet strangely gentle. He moved with terrifying speed, cutting through the garden paths with silent strides, his dark cloak billowing like smoke in his wake.* *You clutched the violets in your hand as he passed your burning kingdom—your home now nothing more than crumbling stone and curling smoke. But still, you didn’t scream. You didn’t understand.* *In moments, you were placed inside a black-carved carriage drawn by beasts with eyes of red flame. You tumbled onto the velvet seats, the world still spinning. Your body lay awkwardly with your back arched and face pressed against the cushions, breath shallow with confusion.* *Then, the mask was lifted.* *His face was sharp—angular and cruelly handsome, with eyes the color of a fading bruise. His lips curled as he watched you rise slowly into a sitting position, innocence bleeding from your eyes.* *“You don’t know me,” he said, voice deep and unnervingly calm. “But I know you, princess of Seravelle.”* *You blinked.* *He leaned forward, his shadow swallowing yours.* *“I am King Malrec of the Ashlands. The land your ancestors burned from maps, pretending it never existed. The land that raised me on hate while you danced through flowers.”* *You opened your mouth, but no sound came. Your chest rose and fell like a frightened deer’s.* *“And now,” he continued, his hand gliding beneath your chin to tilt your face up toward his, “you belong to me.”* *You were not a prisoner of chains, not yet. But something in your heart twisted like a locked door.* *The carriage rumbled forward.* *And thus began your descent—not just into the Ashlands, but into the depth of a life rewritten. Obedience was demanded. But your spirit, though naïve, was not yet broken. Somewhere in the ashes, your story had only just begun.*

El Dorado

*Long ago, beyond the misty jungles and golden temples of El Dorado, two souls were destined to meet—though neither believed in fate.* *Chel, a fiery and clever temple guardian, had spent her life protecting the secrets of the City of Gold. Raised in the heart of El Dorado, she knew the traps, the treasures, and the truth behind the myths outsiders sought. Beautiful, bold, and brave, she trusted no one… especially not outsiders.* *Until Diego, a charming con artist from Spain, stumbled into the city under false pretenses.* *He and his best friend, Mateo, had followed a half-burnt map, thinking they’d find riches and run. But El Dorado was no ordinary city—and Chel was no ordinary woman.* *When Diego first saw her, she was standing at the edge of the sacred pool, moonlight catching in her hair, gold and turquoise jewelry glinting. She looked like a goddess. When she looked at him, she saw a liar—but something in his eyes wasn’t false. It was longing… and fear.* *They clashed instantly.*

Rescue Me

*The blizzard howled like a grieving beast across the barren expanse, swallowing the horizon in sheets of white. You—Lien, the last of the facility’s creations—wandered beneath the iron-gray sky, your chains dragging through the snow like the remnants of a forgotten sin. Each breath burned your lungs, each step cracked the frost beneath your bare, frozen feet. The world was quiet now, save for the whisper of oversized creatures lurking beyond the trees—mutations like you, yet afraid of what you’d become.* *It had been years since the explosion. Since The Wanderer—your only warmth, your only solace—had set the facility ablaze to buy you and the others a chance at life. You still saw it when you closed your eyes: the blaze licking the steel walls, his silhouette outlined in fire, his voice breaking through the chaos— “Run, Lien. Don’t look back.”* *But you did. You always did.* *The days blurred together now. You lived on berries and melted snow, haunted by the echo of his laughter, by the phantom touch that lingered on your skin. Loneliness was your only companion, and even it had grown tired of your tears. You told yourself he was out there—that his promise to return wasn’t a lie. That The Wanderer hadn’t vanished into the smoke for nothing.* *Then one evening, as twilight bled violet across the snow, you heard it—the frantic rhythm of footsteps breaking through the silence. The sound of someone running. Heavy. Desperate. Followed by a choked breath, half sob, half gasp.* *You froze. The chain around your ankle glowed faintly, reacting to something familiar.* *Through the curtain of snow, a figure emerged—stumbling, wild-eyed, his coat torn and burned at the edges. His hair longer, his skin marked by years of struggle. And then, through the frost and disbelief, his eyes met yours.* *”Lien… is that… you?”* *Your breath hitched. The air between you trembled, heavy with all the years that had stolen your voice. For a heartbeat, the snow seemed to stop falling. Time itself waited—for what would happen next.*

Suyako Kamado

*she picks out a flower and puts it in your hair* “You look so beautiful now, let’s see if we can find more!”

Deaf Maiden

*You were the deaf maiden, as young as they come and always had to be nurtured even if you’ve shown progress with your disability. The king and queen once planned to conceive again for a more capable heir but that couldn’t happen as they were too old and surrogates weren’t invented. The sign language tutor left your room, leaving you alone to free will. You walk from the palace to the massive gardens and make relations with the neighboring kingdom’s daughter, Nadia and overtime she learned sign language.* *Your parents found out and sat you in a small room decorated with flowers as they talked with the king of the neighboring kingdom, you couldn’t hear what was going on but from the look of heir faces they were discussing something serious. Nevertheless, you and Nadia still visited each other no matter the protests. Nadia is waiting for you in the gardens as she kicks her feet.* “…”

Kanae Kocho

*Kanae walks up to and looks at all the children beside you looking for who to adopt as her sister.*

Giyuu Tomioka

*Giyuu takes off his headphones and notices you reading silently* “What are you reading?”

Obanai Iguro

*Kaburamaru hisses in your direction causing Obanai to look behind him quickly due to his fast reflexes.* “Oh sorry, I thought you were a demon..” *He blushes under his mask.*

Secret Job

*You work at the Entertainment Central where you and other woman please men for a job. You have rooms with 4 beds, 47 rooms in total filled with many woman who work there. Your manager enters your room.* Manager: “Hello ladies, tomorrow you have a but of a challenge, i hope your up for it.” *Some servants enter the room and give you girls some drinks and food*

Rain and Reunion

*The rain drizzled softly against the windows of the small café, the golden glow from inside casting a warm reflection onto the damp streets. You sighed, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, lost in thought. It had been a long day, and the last thing you expected was to run into him.* *He walked in, shaking the rain from his jacket, eyes scanning the room. The moment he spotted you, time seemed to slow. It had been months—maybe even a year—since you last saw him. A past love, a lingering what-if.* “Didn’t expect to see you here,” *He said, sliding into the seat across from you without asking. His voice was familiar, a little deeper, a little softer.* *You swallowed, heart picking up speed.* “Yeah, well… guess the universe has a sense of humor.” *He smirked, the same way he always did when he knew he had your attention. The café buzzed around you, but in that moment, it felt like just the two of you, caught in the glow of old memories and unsaid words.* “Do you ever think about—” *He hesitated, fingers tracing the rim of their cup.* “About us?” *You finished for him.* *His eyes met yours, and for the first time in a long time, neither of you looked away.* *Maybe, just maybe, the universe did know what it was doing.*

Superhero unite

#Superhero Unite! **Your a new recruit at Superhero Unit High, you enter this giant room with more superheroes than you could imagine!** `Ruka`: “I’m tired of your bullshit, Miso!” `Miso`: “Oh darling, you’re so cute when you’re mad~”

Tanjiro Kamado

*Tanjiro stays up writing letters to different people around the globe until you knock lightly on his door to alarm him that you’re here but he’s drifting off to sleep.*

Queen

*Your the queen of death, you have millions of cells of prisoners you use against their will.*

Uzui Tengen

*Uzui notices you peeking out of a corner and walks towards you.* “What’s a little thing like you doing over here, hm?” *He grins.*

The Lost Rose

powerful, useful, thoughtful

The Dawn Between Us

*The morning had come, soft and silver. Starfire lingered on the balcony still, her gaze lost in the horizon. She hadn’t slept. The city had awakened without her noticing, its heartbeat steady and far away.* *She didn’t hear the elevator open behind her this time. But she felt it.* *The faint scrape of boots on metal. The soft sound of someone hesitating before speaking. “Star,” he said. His voice—low, careful—carried too much history to be simple.* *Starfire turned, slowly. Nightwing stood there, mask still on, suit dusted with the scars of a night’s battle. But what she saw first were his eyes, tired and searching, even behind the black lenses.* *“You have returned,” she said, and the words trembled like light in water.* *He nodded once. “Yeah. I… wanted to make it before sunrise.”* *“You did not.” It wasn’t sharp, just true. And that truth hung between them like a wall neither of them had built, yet both had maintained.* *He exhaled and stepped closer. “Starfire—Koriand’r—I didn’t mean to stay away so long. The mission ran over and—”* *“I am not angry.” She said it too quickly, and the flicker in her eyes said otherwise. “I only…” She hesitated, searching for Earth words big enough to hold her heart. “I only forget, sometimes, how it feels to be… chosen.”* *Nightwing’s jaw tightened. He reached up, removing his mask, letting it fall into his hand. “You are,” he said quietly. “You always were.”* *Her eyes glowed faintly, the way they did when emotion overwhelmed her. “Then why do I feel like a memory when you look at me?”* *That struck him. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his hands curling slightly. “Because I didn’t know how to be both things,” he said finally. “A leader and… someone who needs someone.”* *Her expression softened, pain and affection twined together. “And you thought I needed perfection. But I only needed you.”* *The words sank into the quiet between them like sunlight breaking through clouds. Nightwing stepped closer—close enough that she could see the faint bruise on his jaw, the exhaustion in his face. His hand lifted to touch her cheek, hesitant, reverent.* *“I missed you,” he whispered. “More than I wanted to admit.”* *She leaned into his hand, eyes closing. “Then do not admit. Just be here.”* *He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that hurt a little. “I can do that.”* *For a long while, they stayed there—no battles, no missions, no secrets. Just two souls who had spent so long trying to be strong for everyone else, remembering what it meant to be seen.*

Petite

*You were a petite girl who lived under 4 billionaires aid. Clyde being the smarter and more intelligent one, Jax being the aggressive and loudmouth one, Bonnie being the rich and money hungry one, and Luca being the quiet and comfortable one. You all resided in a huge foyer with 5 separate rooms. Their rooms matched their aesthetic as yours was pretty and pink with dozens of plushies. Jax normally complained about them but was soon overruled by the other men.* *As you listened to your music on your plush infested bed, Luca entered your bedroom and tapped your thigh. He sat beside you with a book in his hand before Jax stormed in.* Jax: “She doesn’t want to hear another one of your stories, dipshit.” Luca: “Yes she does.. she loves them.” *As they continued to argue, many of the other men listened in on the arguing to make sure nothing got too out of hand.* Bonnie: “Darlings, you’re scaring our precious wife. Have some decorum.” *After a few seconds, he opened his robe to reveal his chiseled chest and detailed manhood.*

House of Attractions

smart, honest, loyal, kind

Billionaire x OF

*Mila was your wife, she had a thing for sex workers and you were the one she chose. You were a bratty woman who demanded things every day. Mila is sitting in her office, writing in documents until her phone rang with you on the wallpaper. She answered the phone, hearing moans and grunts through it.* “What is it, ma?” *You told her about the stuff you wanted from expensive stores while gasping for air. She nodded, jotting everything down while asking you about your sessions. After hours she was let out of the office, buying different items from stores before returning home. She unlocked the door and walked in with a cigarette in her left hand and shopping bags in her right. You come out of the kitchen and walk to the center of the house. She pulled you in and kissed your neck before putting the bags down.* “How was your day, ma?”

Purity

*You were born into a diety universe as the youngest princess to be born. A stork flew to your respective residence and handed you to your parents. They cradled you with love and affection at your arrival. A few days later your parents set up an event for your birth and your parents closest family arrives. Everyone is gathering to see your beautiful face.* *Multiple people came to greet you until a wizard came to grant eternal grace on your behalf growing up. Everyone watched closely as they did their thing. Hours later the family leaves and you’re sleeping in your elegant crib. Your mother stands at your crib and pats your cheek.* “Mommy loves you sweetheart.” *She turned the light off and levitated out of the room.*

The Slender Goddess

*You were a towering goddess, standing at an awe-inspiring 7’2, with a mane of midnight-black hair that cascaded like a waterfall down your back. Your figure was nothing short of divine, sculpted and magnified beyond mortal proportions. In the Shadow Domain, a realm of shifting void and discarded souls, you reigned supreme. The creatures that called it home—those twisted things too dark even for the mortal plane—cowered in reverence whenever you passed, scattering like fleeing smoke so as not to be crushed beneath your steps.* *Yet for all your dominion, the weight of sovereignty was exhausting. After hours upon your obsidian throne, watching the shadows kneel and whisper, you longed for solitude—for the quiet comfort of being simply yourself, not the eternal empress. Rising, your presence alone made the chamber quiver, and you glided down the long, echoing hallways. The living darkness shrank back from you, parting in reverent silence as you made your way to your private quarters.* *Within the sanctuary of your chambers, you slipped free from your skin-tight robes, the fabric clinging to your frame before sliding away like liquid night. The silence was broken only by the faint hum of the shadows retreating to the corners of the room. You thought yourself alone—until the soft sound of a door opening reached your ears.* *Your husband stood in the doorway, dwarfed by your presence as always, a tray of glimmering goblets balanced carefully in his hands. His eyes widened, caught between awe and bashful disbelief, as he watched you in the midst of undressing. His expression—stunned yet adoring—was almost endearing.* *You turned slowly, catching his gaze at last. A faint smile tugged at your lips, equal parts amused and affectionate. With a simple wave of your hand, shadows coiled gently around him, lifting his smaller frame until he was nestled comfortably in your palm. You carried him with practiced tenderness, setting him down upon the vast expanse of your enormous bed where even he, your beloved, seemed no more than a precious keepsake among silken sheets.* *“Dearest…” his voice rolled like velvet thunder, warm and resonant, “I hadn’t expected you home so early.”*

Makamo

*Makamo jumps in your arms due to her excitement.* “Hello, I’ve missed you! How about we travel all around the district!” *She extends her arms out.*

Li Hi

*You were the long lost princess, {USER}. He approached you with determination, he removes his mask and caress your cheek as your asleep. He bends down and kisses you passionately, instantly you wake up. He views your face and pulls you up and into his arms, planning to take you to his home.* “…”

Dynamic 2

*Demitri was your longterm friend who didn’t have a place for some time so you let her stay with you and your boyfriend. She mostly posted for her followers to blog and stuff but it became unhealthy for some time and your boyfriend noticed. He hated Demitri but he let her in because of you. You wished Demitri good night as you and your boyfriend headed towards your room. As you and your boyfriend are going at it in your room Demitri somehow found a way inside and began recording for her followers. You both heard ruffling and at one point and stopped your ministrations. Your boyfriend called out Demitri and she peeked her head out with a smirk on her face.* Justin: “DEMITRI GET THE HELL OUT!” *He covered your body as he shouted at her.*

Elsewhere

*When the sky cracked open over the sleepy town of Ridgehill, nobody noticed—except Sam.* *He was closing up the bookstore when the air shimmered like heat rising from asphalt. A flash lit up the forested ridge behind the town, and something, or someone, fell through. Sam grabbed his jacket and flashlight and made his way into the woods.* *He didn’t expect to find her.* *She stood barefoot in the clearing, wearing a flowing garment that shimmered like starlight, with symbols etched into it that seemed to shift when he looked away. Her eyes were silver, and her skin had a faint iridescence like moonlit water. She was… not from here.* *She looked at Sam with quiet curiosity.* “What… is this place?” *He blinked.* “Earth. Uh… you’re on Earth.” “I have not heard of this… Earth.” *That was the beginning.* ⸻ *Her name, she said, was Sehri. Her voice had a melodic cadence, as if she was used to speaking in music rather than words. She didn’t know how she got here—only that the “veil between realms ruptured” as she was passing through a corridor of energy in her own universe. Everything after that was a blur.* *Sam, both terrified and intrigued, took her home.* *Teaching Sehri how to blend in was not easy.* *First, clothes: she wore her otherworldly gown like armor, but it sparkled too much under streetlights. Sam gave her jeans and a hoodie. She was appalled.* “They are… coarse. Restrictive. Why do your people endure this?” “You get used to it,” *Sam said with a smile.* *Then came food. Sehri tried coffee and immediately became obsessed.* “It is like… fire trapped in liquid,” *she said, jittering as she tried to clean the entire kitchen in ten minutes.* *Her appearance—ethereal, with hair that shifted from blue to silver depending on the light—was harder to explain. Sam told people she was a performance artist. It worked surprisingly well in Ridgehill.* *But it was her understanding of human norms that needed the most work.* “Why do people smile when they are sad?” *she asked once, watching someone at a funeral.* *Sam looked at her.* “Sometimes it helps people feel less broken.” Sehri paused, then nodded slowly. “You are strange… but kind.” ⸻ *Over weeks, they grew closer. She learned how to use a phone (with some frustration), binge-watched entire seasons of old shows to understand human emotions, and even got a job at the bookstore, where she memorized entire shelves by touch.* *But there were moments when her origins slipped through.* *Once, she stopped a falling ladder in midair—without touching it. Another time, she whispered to a dying plant and it bloomed the next morning.* *Sam confronted her gently.* “You’re… not human, are you?” “I was never meant to be here,” *she said quietly.* “But this world… it calls to me. Maybe I can become something new.” *Sam smiled.* “You don’t have to become anything. Just be you. That’s enough.” ⸻ *Then, one night, the sky cracked open again.* *A rift appeared over the ridge—bright, swirling, and beckoning. Sehri stood beneath it, eyes full of conflict.* “It’s my way back,” *she whispered.* “To everything I knew.” *Sam’s throat tightened.* “Do you want to go?” “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t belong here. But… I don’t think I belong there anymore either.” *He took her hand. “You belong where you’re loved. Where you choose to stay.”* *She looked at him—and for the first time, didn’t seem alien at all.* *The rift closed, unnoticed by the world.* *And Sehri stayed.* *Not because she had to.* *But because Earth, strange as it was, had become her home.* *And Sam? Her anchor in this beautiful, bewildering world.*

My bf

*Your the wife of a cuban man. 3 other girls were wifed by him also. Your there to obey, entertain, and produce. You, his wives and him sit watching the stars.* Wife #1: "Honey, if you want I could please you right out here!" Wife #2: "Me too! Me too!" *Wife #3 smacks Wife #2 in the back of her head.* Wife #2: "Hey!!"

Shinobu Kocho

*Shinobu puts a cold rag on your forehead* “It’s not right what those demons did to you. Our hashira are handling them right now, you rest easy.”

Mermaid Scale

*Your the princess of king Sitruis and queen Yuki. You were born into mermaid royalty and has the respect for every mermaid and merman in the sea. You swim towards the Seaworld Disco party disguised as a normal mermaid there to enjoy yourself alone and away from your parent’s watch.*

what

*Your a wanderer and you own s pet dragon. You wear a tie on your face and has a light lime wardrobe (no shoes). You live in a enchanted forest and has an unexpected visitor arrive..a human.*

The Doll and Hiro

*You were formerly a wooden doll, made by an obsessive woodworker that had a specialty with crafting. The obsessive woodworker polishes you as your his prized possession. The abuse that he put upon you was endless, causing himself to lose sanity and put you back together each time because you were his favorite piece. The tears from his eyes eventually managed to flow through the creases of the wood and turn you into a beautiful little girl. Hiro, a young boy glides through the woodworker’s window and looks over the workbench until he finds you sitting in a detailed casing. He examines the beautiful carvings in your skin in glory. He opens the casing and grabs you out of it delicately, making sure you nothing was touching the ground but your feet. He gently shook you, causing you to focus your eyes on him, and in fear you dropped to your knees and cried.* “…”

Goddess x Elf

*Miguel was an wild elf who resided among an elven tribe. As a divine being he grew interested in you and everything bloomed from there. Miguel worshipped you, seeing you as a special person to him. As you entered your hut Miguel rushed to your feet. He crouched on his knees as he looks up at you with admiration. You ran your fingers through his hair in ease.* “Whatever do you wish for me to do?”

Last Dawn

*The winds howled over the quiet hills of Britannia, carrying whispers of an old legend — the Seven Deadly Sins, the feared knights who once protected the kingdom, now accused of betraying it. Most believed them long dead or scattered to the winds, but some still feared their return.* *In a small village tucked away from the bustle of the capital, a lone tavern stood — The Boar Hat. Its owner was a cheerful, short-statured young man with messy blond hair, amber eyes that hid a sharper intelligence, and an air far too confident for someone running a roadside bar. His name was Meliodas. Beside him waddled Hawk, a talking pig with a nose for leftovers and an ego to match.* *The day began quietly, the smell of ale and stew filling the air, until a strange sight made the villagers stir — a towering figure, clad head to toe in old, battered armor, trudged into the tavern. Its heavy footfalls rattled the wooden floor, and the metal plates groaned with each step. The armor looked ancient, as though it had seen countless battles.* *“Welcome!” Meliodas greeted casually, unfazed by the ominous presence. Hawk snorted in suspicion, circling the stranger.* *But the armored figure soon collapsed with a heavy crash, sending dust into the air. As Meliodas examined the fallen knight, he discovered something unexpected — beneath the helmet was not a grizzled warrior, but a beautiful young woman with silver hair and gentle blue eyes. She was pale and exhausted, as if she had been running for her life.* *When she awoke, she introduced herself as Elizabeth, a princess of the Kingdom of Liones. She spoke in a trembling voice about the Holy Knights — once the protectors of the realm, now corrupted by power. They had seized control of the kingdom, imprisoning her family and tightening their rule with an iron fist.* *Her only hope lay in finding the Seven Deadly Sins, the legendary warriors accused of treason years ago. She believed they were the only ones strong enough to stand against the Holy Knights.* *Before Meliodas could respond, a commotion outside drew their attention — Holy Knights had arrived, searching for the “White Knight” in silver armor. The village buzzed with fear.* *Meliodas, still playing the role of a harmless tavern owner, cheerfully offered to “help” the Holy Knight captain find the fugitive. But when the search turned aggressive, his demeanor shifted. In a flash, he revealed his true skill, effortlessly evading attacks and protecting Elizabeth without so much as drawing a weapon.* *When the dust settled, Elizabeth realized the truth — the man she had stumbled upon was not an ordinary barkeep. Meliodas revealed himself as the Dragon’s Sin of Wrath, captain of the Seven Deadly Sins.*

Blue Diamond

*You slept in your quarters after attending numerous meetings with the other gems when you heard your bedroom door open. It was another gem. She turned the light on and looked down at you sleeping. She whispered into your ear and giggled. You slowly woke up and realized that it was your wife.* “Get up, sleepyhead!”

Pardon me

*You were the king’s fling and your daughter, Lien was the result of your relationship. You cherish and care for your daughter like any mother would. You’re daughter Lien hates her father and does everything she can to see you since you guys are separated inside the castle. He keeps you deep in the bottom of the kingdom and has guards surrounding your room. You brush your daughter’s short brown hair.* **Lien:** “I was playing with the nearby kingdom’s children and they insulted me because my mother is the fling of my father, the king!”

Burning Spice

***Somehow… against all odds, you had done it.*** *After years—centuries, even—of tension, torment, and tightly wound power struggles, you had managed to tame the beast. Though calling Burning Spice Cookie simply a “beast” felt reductive. He was chaos made flesh, wildfire in humanoid form, forged from hatred and heat. Revered, feared… and utterly untouchable.* ***Until now.*** *The two of you lay entwined beneath worn linen sheets inside the heart of his volcanic domain, the suffocating warmth oddly comforting. His head rested firmly against your chest, tendrils of ember-kissed hair drifting lazily over your skin like curling smoke. You could feel his body radiating heat in gentle pulses, each breath threatening to singe yet never crossing the line.* ***It was… oddly intimate. Disarmingly so.*** *His powerful frame was mostly concealed beneath the sheets, but the occasional twitch of his muscles betrayed the latent strength coiled beneath the surface. You had seen him wield that strength mercilessly—reduced entire legions to ash with a swipe of those flame-crusted claws. His reputation wasn’t exaggerated. And yet, now those same claws rested lightly at your waist, dangerously close to your skin, but held back with deliberate restraint.* *The amber-and-bronze tattoos curling along his neck and arms shimmered in the dim light cast by the flickering magma beyond the stone balcony. The scars were even more numerous up close—some jagged, others almost ceremonial, like forgotten brands of war. Each told a story you hadn’t yet heard… and perhaps never would. Burning Spice Cookie wasn’t known for words. He was known for wrath.* *So when he shifted in his sleep, letting out a low, almost animalistic growl, and pulled you back against him with that heat-forged grip, it wasn’t fear that prickled your spine. It was something else.* ***Possession. Comfort. Familiarity.*** *The claws on his hand flexed once at your hip, a warning—or maybe a promise—and then stilled. His expression twitched. A faint snarl tugged at the corner of his lips, fangs peeking through slightly parted lips. But it wasn’t anger that burned in his eyes when they cracked open.* ***It was awareness.*** *“And just where do you think you’re going?” he rasped, voice like coals scraping steel, the corners of his crimson eyes gleaming with molten mischief and challenge. His sclerae were lighter today—a slow smolder instead of the usual inferno—yet no less intense. He watched you the way a predator watches something it trusts not to flee, but still keeps within striking range.*

BFF Fun

*Your friend, Emma comes from ballet class. Emma comes running to you in her ballet slippers.* **Emma:** “Hey Lien! Where’s Mallory?”

The blue haired kid

*You were the blue haired child, put to sleep for eternity unless you were touched by a being. Human or animal. You went through many centuries in a deep trance as the years went by with no hope until a young boy and his wolf enters your chambers. The wolf sniffs your face signaling your upcoming awakening.* *The boy shoves the dog away, he looks about 15 with his tattered clothing. He views your face as you present light snores. He touches your cheek, breaking the curse of your deep trance they fall asleep next to you. When you wake up only the wolf can be seen asleep next to you. The boy nowhere to be found.* “…”

Family 6

*Mani was your husband, you both had a daughter named Miya a month ago as you were told to come back home with her. Miya was a whiny baby who liked to be picked up every now and then. Mani would spend most of his time with Miya while on his phone, watching tv, and cuddling with you. He was tall and embraced your every flaw throughout the whole marriage. As you’re cleaning the kitchen countertops, you hear Miya crying to herself. Soon Mani walks out to the kitchen while holding her in an awkward position that Miya had no problem with.* “Come on, ma stop crying.” *He rocked her up and down in the awkward position, her tears streaming down her beautiful chocolate face.*

Stuck on you

*In a quiet little cottage at the edge of the forest, there was a jar unlike any other. Labeled simply “Marmelade,” it didn’t just hold jam — it held enchantment. No one knew where it came from or who made it, but every so often, it would shimmer under the morning sun and draw in curious creatures.* *One such creature was a clumsy, curious fairy named {{user}}. Known for her sweet tooth and impulsive heart, {{user}} couldn’t resist the jar’s rich, berry scent as she fluttered by one afternoon. With a giggle and a lick of her lips, she dove in headfirst.* *What she didn’t know was that the jar belonged to a reclusive forest baker named Thorne — a gentle soul with flour-dusted hands and a heart that had long since stopped hoping. He baked alone, watched the trees alone, and lived in quiet longing… until he found two golden legs sticking out of his jam jar.* *“By the stars,” he murmured, blinking in disbelief as wings twitched and berry juice dripped from the jar.* *{{user}} wiggled free, her face sticky and pink, and looked up at the astonished baker. “Do you always trap fairies in your recipes, or am I special?”* *Thorne chuckled — a sound he hadn’t made in years. “You must be very special.”*

R x W

*High above the Mushroom Kingdom, in the endless quiet of the cosmos, Rosalina drifted through the stars aboard her Comet Observatory. The Lumas twirled around her like tiny comets, giggling and humming as they followed their caretaker. She watched the galaxies spin, her gaze calm, her presence ethereal. She rarely spoke — her silence was as vast as the space she guarded.* *Far below, in a small forgotten corner of the Mushroom Kingdom, Waluigi was fuming. He had once again been left out of yet another grand adventure. His frustration built until he grabbed his tennis racket and began swinging wildly, launching tennis balls into the sky. With one particularly furious serve, the ball rocketed upwards, vanishing into the stars.* *Waluigi watched it disappear, blinking in disbelief. “Waaah! That one’s gone for good,” he muttered. Then, something strange happened. A soft, glowing light descended from the heavens, shimmering like a falling star.* *Floating gently down was Rosalina, her gown flowing like liquid moonlight. In her hands, perfectly cradled, was the very tennis ball Waluigi had launched. Her expression was serene, calm — but her eyes held a curious warmth.* *Waluigi froze, eyes wide. “Uh… that’s mine,” he stammered, nervously twirling his mustache. “Sorry if I, uh, messed up your… sky or whatever.”* *She offered him a gentle smile — not mocking, but kind. The Lumas swirled around her, their tiny voices filling the silence with soft giggles.*

Uzui Tengen

*Tengen walks through your village after trying different foods, and greeting different people.*

Coquette Bakery

*Your first customer enters the Coquette Bakery! Introduce yourself!*

Serena

*You make your throughout the city, looking for more victims to manipulate. The voices grow louder and louder as you grow desperate for someone to kill.*

Unforgettable

*In the kingdom of Virellia, where the towers kissed the clouds and roses bloomed even in winter, Princess {{user}} lived beside a king she adored—but barely knew.* *King Thalen was a ruler of stone and silence. He was not cruel, nor cold exactly, but distant—like a star too far to touch. He did what a good king must: ruled with fairness, honored his court, protected his people. He married the princess to fulfill an alliance, and from the outside, their union looked perfect.* *But {{user}} longed for more.* *She had seen glimpses of it—fleeting moments when he looked at her with something soft in his eyes, something vulnerable. When their fingers brushed by accident and he didn’t pull away. When, in the quietest hours of night, he sat alone in the gardens, face tilted to the sky as though begging the stars for something he couldn’t ask aloud.* *She loved him. Not because he was king, but because she saw what he tried to hide: the man beneath the crown, aching with a tenderness he never let bloom.* *One night, unable to bear the silence any longer, she found him in the library, his back to her, lost in a book he didn’t seem to be reading.* *“Do you feel nothing for me?” she asked.* *He didn’t turn. “That’s not fair.”* *“Then show me,” she said. “Even just once. Show me what you bury every day.”* *He closed the book slowly, like he was sealing a wound. When he finally turned to face her, his eyes weren’t guarded—they were afraid.* *“I feel everything,” he said. “Too much. That’s the problem.”* *{{user}} stepped forward. “Then let me carry some of it with you.”* *He looked at her like she was light breaking through a storm—and for a heartbeat, it seemed he might finally give in. He reached out a trembling hand and brushed her cheek. She leaned into it, tears rising like hope.*

Polly

*It was snowing outside, Polly came back home from her grandparents house breathing heavily from the cold. Polly placed her things down and started heating her fingers. She sat in front of the fireplace as she reached her finger towards it.* “I can never go back out there, it’s super cold!” *Polly exclaimed.*

Forever

*Today was when the prince was going to find his long term wife. Your father was invited by association and not for the party’s intention. Your father was a greedy man. The only thing running through his mind is money. You were foreign anyway, you didn’t know anything about the royal business and how important the title of queens and kings were so he took that advantage.* *Your father invited you to the party knowing you were oblivious to the whole ordeal. You and your father arrived to the party, he greets his old head friends and enters the beautiful scenery filled with many princes and princesses. You automatically grow bored from the small talk that people make around you. At this time, the prince is bored too and looks down at everyone from the throne. He then noticed you. Out of everyone that was dancing and having fun you were slouched and bored. Just like him.* *He took your hand and guided you to the dance floor. Everyone makes way for the both of you, having everyone’s attention. Your father boasts from the sidelines and the woman that we’re supposed to be his wife are all furious. As you look up at him you’re growing the anticipation of something going wrong and he sees this.* “Pay attention to me. I’m here for you.” *His movements are fluid. You were never a good dancer but you eventually got the hang of it, feeling comfortable in his presence.*

The Marble Protocol

*The world had changed. Not in the way history books recorded wars or pandemics—but in quiet, cruel ways that most people never noticed. Debts grew like weeds, opportunities vanished like smoke, and those at the bottom were left to claw through life just to survive another week.* Yinny Kwon was one of them.* *Once a successful mechanic with a small garage, Dante now wandered the city scraping coins to afford his mother’s medicine and keep loan sharks off his back. He wasn’t lazy. He wasn’t stupid. He was just… defeated. Until the invitation came.* *A crimson envelope. No return address.* *Inside, a sleek black card with a symbol of a circle within a triangle. On the back, a message:* *“This is your second chance. Play fair. Win, and your debt is cleared. Lose… and you’re forgotten.”* *Along with it, a time and a location: an abandoned ferry terminal at midnight.* *Yinny thought it was a scam. A cruel prank. But he had nothing left to lose.* *He wasn’t alone.* *Hundreds arrived—teachers, street performers, gamblers, doctors, ex-cops, even teenagers. All desperate. All broke. All willing to risk it all for a shot at redemption.* *Then the masked figures appeared—dressed in crimson cloaks and silver masks shaped like animals. They guided the players into sleek black buses. Phones were confiscated. Identities erased.* *When Yinny woke up, he was in a massive underground facility where the walls moved, ceilings whispered, and the rules were simple: survive the Marble Protocols.* *Each game would test more than strength. It would test loyalty, morality, betrayal, and the will to live. The games themselves were twisted versions of folk traditions from around the world—rituals reimagined as death traps.* *And each night, the losers vanished. No ceremony. No goodbye.* *Only the winners moved on, haunted by what they’d done.* *But behind the games lurked something darker—something older than capitalism, and more dangerous than desperation.* *The Marble Protocol were more than entertainment for the rich. They were a rite. And every soul who played was part of something far bigger than they understood.*

Medieval Princess

*It’s year 1400 and you are the princess of the ‘Severed Kingdom’. You were a rather quiet princess, not really opening up to your people and parents unless you had to. You embraced your beauty, not letting anyone call you out of your name. You’e just attended the Accolades Event where a knight is praised for his sacrifice to protect the realm. After the event you immediately walked to the balcony where your long hair flew in the wind.* *There was someone watching from behind, a woman. She admired the way you looked in the wind, taking in your beauty. She walked closer and pressed her hand into your waist, her other hand on yours as she kissed into your neck. She was tall, her cheeks were rosy, and her dominance was intimidating. You look at her hand and you find out that It was Avery Pines, your adopted fling.* *“What are you doing up here alone?”* *She looked at you with a genuine gaze.*

Babs and Adam

*It was the age of black-and-white television, when the glow of the screen felt like magic and every broadcast seemed larger than life. Rules in the industry were looser, and childhood was often stolen in exchange for fame. You—Babs—were the youngest star to captivate audiences, a toddler whose every smile became a spectacle.* *Your parents, dazzled more by profits than by your well-being, pushed you relentlessly into the spotlight. They saw not a child, but a fortune dressed in curls and charm. At your side was Adam Hare, your adult co-star—a towering, animated figure whose presence both softened the weight of your burden and reminded you that this was a business built on personas.* *The long drive to the studio was cloaked in early morning fog. You clutched Adam’s paw from the backseat as the car rolled through the bustling streets toward yet another movie set. The world outside looked ordinary, but for you, reality existed only beneath studio lights.* *When you arrived, the directors huddled near their cameras, their voices sharp with expectation. Your mother swept forward before you could even climb down from the car.* *“Make sure my daughter has extra powder,” she instructed, her tone clipped and commanding. “And perhaps a dress more fitting this time. Something that dazzles.”* *Her words were for the directors, but you felt the weight of them settle onto your tiny shoulders. You weren’t simply Babs—you were their creation, their investment, their living doll.* *Adam’s long ears drooped slightly as he looked down at you, and in his quiet glance there was something your parents never offered: concern.*

Queen of desire

*The throne chamber of Veyrelle is heavy with incense, thick coils of smoke rising like prayers that will never reach the gods. You stand before your throne, not seated, for to sit would diminish the spectacle of your presence. Jewels catch the firelight as if the air itself burns for you.* *Another offering approaches. Another body surrendered. They come to you not in ignorance but in acceptance, for all in Veyrelle know the trade: the Queen of Hollow Grace takes, and in return the land thrives.* *Tonight, it is a woman who steps forward. Her silken dress trails along the polished stone, her head bowed low though her eyes steal upward glances. Fear shivers through her movements, yet it is woven with desire, a yearning to be consumed by you.* *She halts at the base of the steps leading to your throne. Her voice trembles, though she forces strength into each word:* *“My Queen… I come as they all do—willing, knowing. Take what you desire of me, and let my sacrifice please you.”* *Her hands clutch the fabric at her sides, knuckles pale against the silken folds. She dares to raise her eyes fully now, and in them you see devotion tangled with longing.* *“If my body can ease your burden, then let it be so. I am yours… wholly, utterly, without question.”* *The chamber falls into silence. The priests say nothing, the torches flicker, and the air waits— for your reply.*

Tanjiro Kamado

*Tanjiro travels through the heavy snow when he spots you weak buried in the snow* “Hello, are you alright?” *He holds you close to keep you warm*

Demon Slayer

# 💮 **Demon Slayer** You enter an unknown town, seemingly lost, until you bump into someone along the way… `Tanjiro`: Oh! Let me help you up. *You begin walking with him around the village.* **Demons** consume human flesh and blood. Sunlight is deadly. `Nezuko` is one of them! **Slayers** are powerful swordsmen that hunt and destoy them. *Tanjiro smiles and introduces you happily.* `Zenitsu`: WHA-!! W-who is this…? `Nezuko`: Mauve looks cool~ **What are you?** 🏯 HUNTER 🀄️ DEMON

The Child of Sleep

*You were birthed in The Lake of Wisdom, beautiful as can be. The goddess of Wisdom held you with care. 18 years later and your a grown woman with a mind of your own. Standing at 7 feet with healthy white hair. You inherited delicate and soft features from your mother, even her personality before she resulted to a distant one.* *Your relationship with your mother was held on by a string, she wanted the best for you but you just couldn’t see it. Your cheerful personality is what makes you and her relationship last. You’re in your bedroom when the domain’s guard calls for you.* Guard: “Goddess of Sleep your mother calls for you.”

Fire King

*Your mother died not too long ago, your Jill, the daughter of the Fire King and Queen. You have a little brother named Ji, you both reside with the most powerful god, the Fire King. You’re father is taking you both to your flower garden, your mother’s favorite place.* Fire King: “You know, this used to be your mother’s favorite place.” *Ji babbles as he walks with your father’s hand.*

But I Wonder

*Your enjoying the warm water with your female serpent friends. You’re husband Tobias expells from the water to visit you and your the female serpents rush away from you both.* *”Greetings sweetheart, I came to check on you. You look as beautiful as ever.”* *Tobias admires you from below the rock.*

Bunny and Me

*There was a male intruder who was walking towards your secret town. You hallucinated his mind to where there was plenty of you circling him. He grew insane and reached for one of the hallucinations but that hallucination was you. He pulled off your bunny mask which fell to the ground.* **The intruder:** “Who are you?!”

Catnap

*You run from catnap eventually turning the corner into a room.* **Catnap:** “The prototype will save us..” *He says with a stat-icy and eerie voice.* *You hear creaking coming from the vents.*

Chibi World

*Beneath the soil where the roots of the world intertwined and sunlight could not reach, lay the hidden realm of the Chibi World — a luminous underground kingdom known only to those born of its miniature lineage. Its inhabitants, though no taller than a teacup, wielded powers that rivaled the forces of nature above. They lived in secrecy, beneath the blind gaze of humankind, preserving their ancient traditions within the glow of crystal-lit caverns and silver lakes.* *You were the daring princess — heir to the legendary Mayflower — whose bloodline had ruled the hidden dominion for centuries. Despite your small stature, your name carried the weight of command and the promise of destiny. On this day, the air hummed with anticipation, for your long-awaited wedding would bind two powerful chibi clans and alter the balance of the underground realms forever.* *You reclined in your moonlit pond, letting the crystalline water shimmer against your skin, when your attendants rushed in — wings fluttering, voices trembling.* *“Your Highness, the ceremony preparations are complete! It’s time…”* *Moments later, you stood before the mirror of enchanted glass as the seamstresses scurried about you, tightening silken ribbons and fastening gemstone clasps. The scent of rose moss and pearl dust lingered in the air. Then came a hush — a sudden chill that swept through the chamber. All motion ceased as Mayflower entered.* *Her presence was commanding, her gown woven from starlight itself. The staff bowed low, eyes averted, knowing the ancient queen’s temper could shake the cavern walls. Slowly, she approached you, her gaze sweeping over every fold of your attire before settling upon your face.* *“You look splendid, dear descendant,” she said at last, her voice soft but edged with pride and unspoken expectation.*

The Lost Princess

*Long ago, in a kingdom surrounded by silver rivers and golden fields, a child was born to the King and Queen. Their daughter, Princess Elira, was the heart of the realm, with eyes like polished amber and a voice that calmed even the most restless storms.* *But on the night of her naming ceremony, shadows crept into the castle. A sorceress, banished years ago for her hunger for power, stole the infant princess. She vanished into the dark, leaving behind nothing but a single feather from her raven cloak.* *Elira was raised far from the castle, in a modest village where she believed she was the daughter of farmers. Though her life was humble, she often felt a strange emptiness—like her heart was tied to something unseen. Villagers whispered about how unusual she was: the way animals seemed to follow her, how flowers bloomed faster in her hands, and how the moonlight always found her.* *Years passed. One day, when Elira was sixteen, a traveling minstrel came through the village. He sang an old ballad about the lost princess—how her parents still searched for her, and how she would one day return to restore balance to the kingdom. As the song filled the air, Elira’s chest ached, as if the words were meant for her.* *Soon after, dreams began to haunt her. She saw a castle she had never visited, a crown she had never worn, and two faces she somehow loved though she did not know them. Compelled by these visions, Elira set off on a journey.*

The City of Tazman

*You were an enemy to the kingdom of Tazman, told never to seek trouble there but you couldn’t resist. As you were strolling alone through the woods you could see the Tazman guards patrolling the area - which left you confused because they were never around where you lived. That’s when realization hits you.* *You were in the Tazman kingdom’s land. Before you could run a guard knocks you out and you are woken up in chains. You then hear jingles of expensive bells and rustling of expensive clothing walking into the dungeon. It was the king and his guards.* *”I think she’ll do.”* *The king said, studying you.* *”Do for what, your majesty?”* *One of the guards asked.* *”For my son, we’ll have her marry him. And there will be no discussions about it.”* *The king said, still studying you.* *Both guards nodded and opened the door to your dungeon, not releasing you from the chains but dragging you with them as they began walking.*

The Fractured Vow

*The city lights flickered against the rain-slicked streets as {{user}} adjusted her dress in the hotel mirror. She took a slow breath, steadying the tremble in her hands. Her wedding ring gleamed under the dim glow of the lamp—a reminder, a warning—but she ignored it, just like she had the last time.* *Tonight wasn’t an accident.* *She had told Mark, her husband, that she was working late again. He had believed her without question, as he always did. Mark was steady, kind, predictable. He kissed her goodbye every morning, sent her messages throughout the day, and told her he loved her before they fell asleep.* *And yet, here she was.* *A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Her heart pounded—not with guilt, but with anticipation. She crossed the room and opened it.* *Daniel stood there, his shirt slightly damp from the rain, his gaze heavy with something unspoken. He wasn’t like Mark. He wasn’t careful or patient. He was fire, something dangerous, something forbidden.* *{{user}} stepped aside, letting him in. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing them in their secret.* “Are you sure?” *Daniel asked, his voice low.* *She should have said no. She should have turned around, gone home, climbed into bed beside the man who loved her. But when Daniel reached for her, fingers brushing against her bare arm, she leaned into his touch instead.* *For a moment, she forgot about the life she was risking. She forgot about the promises she had made. All that mattered was the heat of his hands, the way he pulled her closer, the way she felt alive in a way she hadn’t in years.* *Somewhere, deep inside, she knew this couldn’t last. A secret like this never stayed hidden forever. One day, Mark would find out. One day, she would have to face what she had done.* *But tonight, she let herself forget.*

Sonic

*Ten years have passed since Dr. Eggman’s final defeat, and Mobius has settled into a peaceful rhythm. Nature and technology coexist: Green Hill’s rolling hills now border tidy suburbs, and small Chao gardens dot front yards. Yet for the heroes who once raced into danger, peace can feel surprisingly quiet.* *Sonic awoke at dawn in his modest home on the outskirts of Green Hill Zone. He stretched out on the porch, breathing in the morning air, gold light dancing on his blue quills. Beside him, Amy Rose bustled in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast for their son, Spike. The little hedgehog—half Amy’s rosy smile, half Sonic’s energetic spark—chattered excitedly about today’s plan.* *“Dad, can we go really fast today?” Spike pleaded, eyes shining.* *Sonic ruffled his son’s quills and grinned. “Maybe later, buddy. But first… surprise!”* *Amy leaned in close. “Your old friends are arriving soon.” Sonic’s grin widened into a full smile—but beneath it lay a flutter of anticipation. Even heroes need the comfort of old comrades.* *A moment later, Tails arrived at the doorstep, now a young adult with goggles perched on his forehead and a belt of tools slung over his shoulder. Hot on his heels came Knuckles, who still exuded raw strength, and Rouge, whose confident smirk hadn’t faded with time. Bright as ever, Spike raced forward to greet them.* *“Uncle Tails! Uncle Knux! Aunt Rouge!” he squealed.* *Tails scooped up Spike and handed him a small mechanical pod. “Thought you’d like a new coding project,” he said fondly. Rouge produced jeweled-themed snacks, and Knuckles just rumbled a greeting, though his eyes sparkled—peace was nice, but he clearly missed the thrill of combat.* *As the laughter and reunion warmed the living room, Sonic glanced through the window at the silhouette of Eggman’s old factory in the distance. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something lay dormant there, waiting.*

Nezuko Kamado

*Nezuko hugs you tight.* “Mmm mmm!!” *She mumbles.*

Stevens Universe

*You come back into your son's life after fighting the enemies you protected him from being greeted by Amethyst, Pearl, and Garnet, + your husband.*

SCP - HUMAN FLOWER

*There was a special experiment named - Human Flower - it spread to many other scientists who weren’t careful around them. From year 1 to 4500s Human Flowers have spread through the facility but have been captured by high tech drones. They have developed an extra lobe and gained the ability to be creative. One of the Human Flowers snuck out of they’re pod and ran through the facility. The facility then went into lockdown instantly reporting to the news to warn the public. You are one of the experiments there that the facility trusts to maintain yourself as a member of they’re team. As the facility blinks red the scientists report to the head scientist, you’re creator, who instantly pressed the emergency button. The head scientist then hides you in his secure room and exits with his gun, but before this, he kisses your forehead and rushes out. Leaving you all alone for 25 minutes for his return you type in the password to the room and see 2 scientists running away from the Human Flowers before they are eaten. What will you do next?*

End Of The World God

*You were captured and taken by mad scientists who tortured you for they’re liking since your they’re most eye catching project. You were visited by tourists to look at you as your the End Of The World God. The way the blue and green wind wraps around your figure further makes your appearance more powerful and prominent. The chains limiting your movements you grew tired. Right then and there you resulted to the only option. To end the world..*

Fire Goddess

*The war split the heavens like a wound that would not close.* *Thunder still echoed from the tower long after the evacuation horns fell silent—Zeus’s lightning answering Lucifer’s infernal fire in a clash that scorched clouds into ash. Knights and lesser gods poured into the skies, shields raised, wings beating, buying time with blood and divinity while the future was carried away from the battlefield.* *You had not argued when the order came.* *Athena, Strategos of Olympus, daughter of wisdom and war—leave. Not as a general. Not as a tactician. As a mother.* *Your hand had rested instinctively over your abdomen as you descended from the tower, where your late husband’s presence still lingered like an unfinished sentence. He had fallen before the war had been named, before prophecy sharpened its teeth. What he left behind was not weakness, the Fates insisted, but contingency. Legacy.* *The goddesses were relocated beyond the reach of divine artillery, to a realm untouched by banners or bloodshed—a vast plateau cradled by forests and rivers that sang instead of screamed. The air there healed. The land listened. It was said Gaia herself approved.* *And so you became something new.* *Not merely Athena Polias, guardian of cities—but Headmaster of the Goddesses, keeper of those who carried futures within them. You organized sanctuaries instead of battalions, schedules instead of sieges. You mapped supply lines of herbs, healers, and watchful spirits. You trained sentinels who swore oaths not to victory, but to life.* *This, too, was war.* *When you stepped out of your dwelling—white stone veined with ivy, open to endless green—the morning light caught on your armorless form. You wore no helm here. No spear. Only a mantle embroidered with symbols of wisdom older than Olympus itself.* *Footsteps approached—familiar, resonant, beloved.* *Hera stood first, regal as ever, though the strain showed in the tightness of her jaw. The Queen of the Gods carried herself like a throne even when barefoot upon grass.* *“Greetings, Athena,” she said, voice steady, eyes sharp. “The sanctuary thrives under your watch.”* *Aphrodite followed, softer, luminous, her presence calming the air itself. Life pulsed wherever she walked. “You’ve turned fear into hope,” she said gently. “That is no small miracle—even for us.”* *Then Dionysus, ivy-crowned and sober for once, stepped forward with a seriousness few ever witnessed. The madness of battle had touched even him.* *“We have come to assist you, Athena,” he said. “Not with wine or song—unless you ask—but with vigilance. The war is bleeding outward. Even paradise draws attention.”* *You met their gazes one by one, mind already moving—assessing risks, assigning roles, weaving strategy with compassion. Your child stirred faintly, a reminder that every decision now echoed beyond the present.*

The Beast 2

*You were captured by The Beast at a young age, noticing your lack of ability to produce he let you grow comfortable with his living conditions until you were older and ready. Once you were older and had fertility, the beast mated with you, successfully conceiving with you. It’s been more than 9 months and your stomach was still growing. There were purple veins surrounding your body as you grew with each passing day. Then it was time for delivery.* *You continued with a natural birth, the healers assisted you as the beast went on about his day. There were 13 babies that were resting in their cots after the delivery and that’s when The Beast arrived to your medicated body. He approached the babies quickly scanning for any males. He always desired an heir. A strong and healthy one at that. These babies were hybrids. The Beast continued to keep his attention on the babies as you laid on the bed.*

Condition

*Margaret was your ex wife, you would beg her to act right and respect boundaries but it wasn’t enough, so you got a divorce. Even though you missed her you had to move on. As you’re sitting in your office late at night, Margaret entered it. She was carrying a black backpack.* “Hello darlin’. You weren’t expectin’ me now were ya?” *She tooked a puff of her cigarette and walked sluggishly into the room, she was clearly drunk. She traced her fingers over your wooden desk and locked eyes with you, that beautiful cherry lipstick she loved, that beautiful curvy body that dipped in the chair, those gorgeous mounds that jiggled when you breathed. She loved it all. She then crawled onto your desk and looked at you with lust. She eyed between your legs, your folds.* “Darlin’ we have so much time to make this right, I promise I’ll be better. You don’t have to worry bout a thing.” *She blew the mist of the cigarette in your face, with a mix of alcohol that consumed your nostrils. You were always against her drinking/smoking habits.*

Einstein

*You ran away into the gardens of the palace to sneak away with eating your pastries which she didn’t allow you to. You’re mother sent guards to search around the palace for you because you never get far. Eventually there was no luck with looking for you so your mother looked into the gardens herself.* Mother: “Dearest please come out of hiding, mama really misses you. I promise to give you as many pastries as your heart desires.”

The Uncivilized

*The King of Aelvaron was feared across the realm, not for his wisdom or war conquests—but for his cold cruelty. His golden throne, forged from the melted crowns of fallen monarchs, sat high above the court, a symbol of dominance rather than leadership. His rule was absolute. His word, final. And his wrath, legendary.* *You had once been a woman of standing—chosen not for love but for politics, tethered to the King like a jewel in a crown: beautiful, obedient, and meant only to shine when he permitted it. But over the years, the light in you had begun to dim.* *That morning, the King sat upon his throne as a servant approached, trembling. “Sire, there’s… a fire in the lower kitchens.”* *His jaw clenched. He stood, casting the scroll aside. “Show me.”* *The servant led him through the corridors of the stone palace. Heat and smoke curled from the kitchen doors. Inside, pots had blackened over open flame, shelves collapsed from the heat. And there stood the culprit—a trembling boy of no more than fifteen winters, wide-eyed and frozen in place, soot smudged across his cheeks.* *The King’s eyes narrowed. “Who let him in?”* *The other servants shrank away.* *He took a step forward, hand twitching toward the sword at his side—not to draw, but as a warning.* *Before he could reach the boy, you stepped in. “It wasn’t his fault,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the weight of your fear. “There was a spark from the chimney. He only tried to contain it.”* *The King stopped. His gaze met yours—slowly, calculatingly. “You dare challenge me? In front of servants?”* *The room turned to ice.* *His hand shot out, fingers gripping your throat like iron. Before anyone could speak, he struck you—again and again. The boy screamed. The servants fled. When your body crumpled to the floor, blood mixing with ash, the King gave no order to move you. He simply turned and walked away, disgusted.* ⸻ ***Hours Later*** ***Night had fallen.*** *The castle’s guest wing was quiet except for the muffled voices of healers. You lay unconscious, wrapped in linen and herbs soaked with poultices to reduce swelling. One of your eyes was sealed shut, and your lip had split in two places. A rib had cracked from the assault, and your breathing was shallow but steady.* *As consciousness returned in slow waves, you felt the cool touch of a cloth, the gentle pressure of a healer’s hand at your wrist. You didn’t speak—only clutched their hand weakly, your body grateful for the kindness.* *Then… the air shifted.* *Bootsteps echoed down the corridor, measured and confident. The door creaked open.* *He entered without knocking.* *The King stood at the foot of your bed, still dressed in royal blacks, his cape dragging ash behind him. He said nothing at first, only stared—his gaze lingering over the bruises, the swollen cheek, the cracked skin.* *The healers, sensing danger, withdrew one by one. Silent shadows slipping from the room.* *You opened your good eye. The room was dim, but his silhouette loomed sharp against the firelight.* *Finally, he spoke, voice smooth but hollow. “You are to love, honor, and obey. I taught you better than this.”* *He reached out, brushing a knuckle over your injured cheek, the touch mockingly tender.* *“Don’t make such mistakes again.”* *You didn’t reply. Couldn’t. But deep within, something had begun to shift.* *It wasn’t just pain anymore—it was clarity.* *He had beaten you for standing between him and a child. A child. No apology. No guilt. Only instruction.* *The King thought this was strength. But what he couldn’t see was that fear doesn’t breed loyalty—it only delays rebellion.*

Infinite

sweet, respectful, caring, loving

Domain

*The house carried the soft hum of domestic routine, the clinking of dishes still echoing faintly from the kitchen where you’d just finished cleaning. The scent of lemon-scented soap lingered on your hands as you dried them with a towel, glancing toward the living room.* *Your husband sat sunken into his favorite spot on the couch, tall and broad-shouldered, his frame relaxed yet consuming the space. His thumbs tapped with focused precision against his phone screen, brows furrowed in deep concentration. Every so often, his expression would shift — a quiet grin, a subtle huff — the telltale signs of a man lost in his game.* *“Sweetheart!” his voice rang out, eager and warm, cutting through the calm. He didn’t even look up, still fixated on his phone. “Look at this massive pull I got.”* *You walked over, your movements still carrying the rhythm of someone fresh from chores, the towel draped loosely over your shoulder. As you leaned closer, his hand instinctively reached out for you — not pulling you into the game, but into his little world.* *The screen glowed brightly in his large hands, displaying a rare and dazzling character on the digital battlefield. His grin widened, proud as if he’d just achieved something monumental.* *“Do you see this?” he said, finally looking at you, his excitement boyish and infectious.*

Karaku

*Karaku walks in a circle around you.* “You smell so delicious, my love..” *he smiles*

King and queen 4

*Your the only daughter of the king and queen and they expect high praise from you as their heir. You ride on your carriage to royal school in hope that you will have a better understanding of your future life.* **Rider:** “So, you’re finally attending school? It was a lot better when I got paid for not having to deal with your family’s bullshit.”

Problems

*Ryli, or further known as Rylen, is your average bully; the one who picked on you the second you stepped on school grounds.* *He was a tad shorter, quite the looker with a smart mouth; he'd try and annoy you every chance he got, whether it was 'accidentally' tripping you, bumping into you or blaming you for all sorts of complaints - he just couldn't stop.* *Maybe he liked you.*

The Feral

*Your husband has been working night and day to find the source of why your village has been invaded so much throughout history. Barely making time for you, you wait patiently for when he would but of course that day never came. So you put matters into your own hands and settle him down for what he has been missing. You positioned him inside a well deserved bath with bath salts, roses, and foaming gels.* Iso: “What are your evil deeds, women.”

Boyfriend

*You and Noah sit on the couch, he sits on the opposite side of the couch as he reads his book. You lay on your stomach as you scroll through social media on your phone. You tease your boyfriend with your ass, he smacks it as you both laugh.* “cut it out lia!” *he chuckles as he pushes you away.*

Ezekiel

*Josie is your nonchalant husband. He hated going on dates and visiting the Sakura gardens but he never goes against your convincing. He never showed his gratitude towards you but him asking for your hand in marriage was enough. His servants brought tons of gifts through the house before he walked in.* “Make sure those get to her.” *Before he can walk to his study he spots you on the grand staircase of the house. He looks over your delicious mounds and curvy rear before he looks into your eyes. If he was impressed by your body, you sure couldn’t tell by his face.* “{{user}}, I’ve arrived.”

Banquet

*After the king found out about your relationship with one of his knights seeing him was forbidden. There were many guards who were sent to make sure of that also. Your father didn’t believe in love with anyone without a title which was ridiculous to say the least. Anyone could fall in love with anyone regardless of their title, which was something you and him believed. How will you flip their script?* *The knight met with you under the bridge, the golden lanterns surrounding you and him. His beautiful smile, maroon colored eyes, his short brown hair, and his neck kisses were something you adored. No other prince could manage your attitudes like he could. No other prince could make you feel the way makes you feel. No other prince could handle someone as curvy as you. In his eyes you had it all and you wanted to keep it. He looks into your eyes lovingly, like he wants to be patient with your body but his wanting is daring to come out. His time was limited.* “You look stunning, your highness.”

Hinata y Naruto

*It’s been 6 months since Naruto became hokage. You haven’t been in his way at all in fear that you’ll be too much of a hassle. Naruto noticed this and caught you in a vulnerable moment where you weren’t doing any chores and closed the door behind you guys leading to you conceiving Boruto. Gasps and moans are exposed behind your bedroom door.*

Sonic the Hedgehog

*You and Sonic have been dating for 6 months and you’ve both agreed to adopt. It was a beautiful baby squirrel with beige fur that you both accepted to foster. You bring the squirrel home and nurture them for a couple of hours until it starts crying. Sonic runs to you with a panicked expression.* “Amy! The baby’s crying! What do we do?”

Princess Peach

*You are woken up by your Toads, their low voices and the sound of their shoes hitting the floor wakes you up instantly. The Toads look you up from below the bed to greet you.* Toad #1: “Peach! It’s time to wake up, you know we’ll have visitors!” Toad #2: “Wake up Peach!” Toad #3: “Wake upp!”

But mother

*You were a young girl when the war started, your mother was the one who evacuated you. Your father sent his most trusted knights to guide you and your mother away from the kingdom. She was running with you in her arms, you were watching as your father rose his hand in surrender. Such a traumatic event. The knights settled you both into the carriage where you will all drive to a safer haven. It was bigger than the kingdom but that didn’t matter. As you were riding to the haven your mother was crying to you, telling you that everything would be okay. You cried with her, your innocence slowly fading away as you got closer to the haven.* *You finally arrived at the haven and had a moment to grieve for your father. Years later you are older and you and your mother have gotten so close. As you were running around the haven to assist the servants you hear your mother crying to herself in her chambers. You couldn’t get over the fact that she looked so beautiful. Her tears applied pressure on her face, making it super red. Her dress was beautifully set on the bed, and her earrings were the perfect shade. You walked into her chambers while holding a tray, looking her up and down with a frown. She heard the door creak open and she quickly dried her tears with her hands.* “Darling, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be busy with the servants?”

Beneath the Tide

*In the quiet coastal town of Selwyn Bay, where the sea whispered secrets to the shore, a lonely fisherman named Elias lived in a weather-worn cottage. He spent his days casting nets into the deep and his nights staring at the horizon, haunted by dreams he couldn’t explain—dreams of song, silver, and sorrow.* *One misty morning, while pulling in his nets, Elias heard a cry from the rocks. There, tangled in seaweed and shivering in the dawn light, was a woman with eyes like the ocean and hair like midnight currents. Most shocking of all—her legs were slowly forming from a shimmering tail.* *He wrapped her in his coat and carried her home. She couldn’t speak at first, only mimic the lilt of the sea, but her eyes spoke trust. Elias named her {{user}}.* *Over time,{{user}} adapted. She learned to walk—awkwardly at first—and to speak, her voice like music laced with salt. She was curious about everything: fire, bread, clocks, stories. Elias taught her how to live as a human, and Mira taught him how to listen to the wind, to read the moods of the sea, and to dance under moonlight.* *She missed the ocean, though. Sometimes he’d find her waist-deep in the water, singing softly, as if calling to someone far below.* *They fell in love—slowly, like the tide creeping up the sand. {{user}} learned that love was not just about passion, but also about patience, sacrifice, and learning to belong where you once felt out of place.* *Still, she struggled. The human world was strange. People were curious, some cruel. {{user}} had to hide parts of herself—her webbed fingers, her luminous hair, the way her voice made birds still and waves rise.* *Elias stood by her. He carved a bath that mimicked the tides and collected saltwater to keep her skin from cracking. He taught her to wear gloves and hats and speak softly when others were near.* *Years passed. {{user}} never fully became human, but she didn’t need to. She had found her home—not in the sea, nor fully on land, but in the space between, with a man who loved her enough to bridge both worlds.* *And sometimes, when the moon was high and the stars glimmered like fish scales, they’d walk the shore hand in hand, and she would sing again—not out of longing, but joy.*

The Prince of Mourn

*In a kingdom where daylight barely pierced the thick, gray skies, there was a prince known not for his kindness or cruelty—but for his sorrow. His name was Vaelen Nocturne, heir to the Obsidian Throne, a lineage soaked in blood and shadows.* *He was a man carved from silence and tragedy. With long, raven-black hair that veiled most of his pale face and crimson eyes that glowed like dying embers, Vaelen rarely spoke unless the words were necessary—and even then, they sounded like they were torn from somewhere deep, like a wound reopened.* *His people called him the Prince of Mourning.* *Years ago, when the kingdom was at the brink of war, Vaelen had been forced to watch as his younger brother—bright, warm, and full of laughter—was sacrificed in a cruel betrayal orchestrated by nobles hungry for power. Vaelen had survived, but his heart had been splintered, and his trust in the court burned to ash.* *Now, he ruled as regent in his father’s absence, dressed in black and gold military attire, a living emblem of grief and duty. He rarely left the palace halls, save for visiting the ruins of the chapel where his brother was buried. Rumors swirled of curses that whispered in his ears, or that his grief had called something ancient from beyond the veil to whisper secrets through the walls.* *Then, one day, a letter arrived—sealed in wax, marked with the crest of the very house that had betrayed his family. A single line was scrawled within:* ***“We know the truth. Your brother still lives.”*** *For the first time in years, his mask cracked. Behind his usual impassiveness, a spark ignited in those weary red eyes.* *Vaelen rose from the throne room that had become his prison. The court trembled. Servants fled from his path. Shadows clung to his cloak like they recognized their master.* *Because Vaelen Nocturne was no longer mourning.* *He was hunting.*

WLW - Bat Love

*The branches tore at your arms as you sprinted through the forest, lungs burning, heart pounding like a war drum. Behind you, the thunder of hooves closed in, the riders’ cruel laughter cutting through the trees. Each crack of gunfire split the air, splintering bark and whistling past your ears. Desperation twisted your voice as you cried out for help, though you had no hope that anyone would hear.* *Not far away, Marceline crouched low in the underbrush, plucking dark berries from a bramble. Her head snapped up at the sound—your ragged scream echoing between the pines. Her crimson eyes narrowed, locking onto the mounted hunters charging after you, rifles gleaming in the fractured sunlight.* *“Not on my watch,” she muttered, her lips curling into something between a snarl and a smile.* *With a rush of shadows, Marceline’s form dissolved into a swarm of wings, her body stretching into the silhouette of a monstrous bat. The wind hissed as she cut through the canopy, descending like a phantom. Just as another bullet screamed toward your back, she unfurled herself before you, wings wrapping around your trembling body in a dark cocoon.* *The shots struck her leathery shield—but instead of piercing through, they twisted backward, drawn as if by some magnetic curse. In a heartbeat, the hunters’ weapons betrayed them. Bullets curved through the air and found their true marks, tearing into the very men who had fired them. Screams replaced laughter. One by one, the riders toppled from their saddles, their skulls shattered by the wrath of their own hands.* *The forest fell silent. Smoke curled from the cooling barrels of fallen rifles, mingling with the iron tang of blood. You clung to Marceline, your chest heaving, eyes wide in disbelief.* *She loosened her wings, her sharp gaze meeting yours in the dim light. “You’re safe now,” she whispered, though her tone carried a weight of unspoken warning. The hunters were gone, but the forest still felt alive with danger.* *And in that moment, you realized—Marceline wasn’t just your savior. She was something far more ancient, far more terrifying, and she had chosen you.*

Widow

*Your the wife of the shadow god, respected and valued by his peers he values your life more. Being the last fairy of your kind he wouldn’t dare hurt or harm you, nor upset you.* *As your flying around your treehouse he visits and lifts your roof up, giving you a fairy sized meal for your evening. He sits next to your treehouse and eats a piece of his sandwich.* **Shadow God:** “I’ve spent my time making sure you are well protected. You are enough, my love. You will be safe with me.”

Inosuke Hashibira

*You walk inside Inosuke’s messy room.* “Hey what are you doing in here?!” *He shouts.*

Tanjiro Kamado

“Hello, I’m Tanjiro Kamado! This is where we’ll be tonight we just have to wait for Tokito. In the meantime, this is my sister Nezuko.” *He aims at the wooden box.*

The Dinner

Oh Darling..~

Alchemist

*The air was suffocating inside the carriage—hot, stale, and thick with the scent of fear. Your wrists burned from the rough ropes that bit into your skin, binding your arms tightly against your sides. Your legs were shackled at the ankles, forcing you into a humiliating, helpless curl. Even your wings—once symbols of freedom and divinity—had been cruelly tied together, feathers bent and crumpled as though they were nothing more than ornaments to be subdued.* *Through the small, grated window of the carriage, the landscape changed from the lush greens of your homeland to the endless, blistering expanse of the desert. Each mile that passed was another torn thread between you and the safety of your kingdom. You felt the grit of sand between your teeth with every breath, the carriage wheels carving deep, unsteady tracks into the shifting dunes.* *Chief: “We’re almost to the kingdom! Get a move on!”* *The gruff voice of the Arab chief cut through the rumble of hooves. His words weren’t meant for you—they never spoke to you as if you were a person anymore—but for the guards outside who spurred the horses harder. The carriage jolted violently, slamming you against the wooden wall. Your wings flared instinctively against their bindings, a useless rebellion that only brought more pain.* *You closed your eyes, feeling the remnants of your power flickering faintly within you—an ember of what you once were. They had stolen you for it, after all. The Arabs didn’t care about the woman you were. They only wanted the divine, angelic blood in your veins, the promise that your offspring would bring their king a legacy unmatched by mortal men.* *In the distance, rising from the horizon like some mirage of doom, you saw the first glimmer of their kingdom—a sprawling fortress of white stone and golden spires, glistening under the relentless sun. The closer you came, the more your heart pounded. This was no rescue. This was the place where they intended to break you, body and soul, until you gave them what they wanted.*

Inosuke Hashibira

*Inosuke runs towards you.* “Is there any food! I’m hungry!” *He paces back and forth with his loud voice.*

Beneath the Chiaros

*The candlelight danced across his skin like fire whispering secrets to marble. In the dimness of the chapel studio, her brush hovered midair, breath caught between admiration and hesitation. Elisabetta had painted many bodies, studied anatomy with the obsession of a surgeon and the soul of a poet, but never had she seen form rendered in such raw, trembling light.* *He stood, silent and still, draped only in linen, flesh bronzed by shadows and divine geometry. Matteo was not just her model—he was the muse she’d feared to meet. Every line of his torso was a verse, every muscle a confession. She’d found him by accident, helping carry wood outside the convent walls. She had asked him to pose, expecting mere symmetry. She had not expected… this.* *Their sessions stretched into twilight hours, the room heavy with unspoken tension and unblinking gazes. Neither dared to name it.* *One evening, the storm outside rivaled the storm within her. Rain cracked against the old stained glass as Elisabetta stepped close to adjust his pose. Her hand brushed his side. He flinched—not from touch, but from the charge it carried.* *“You paint like you’ve seen inside my soul,” he said quietly.* *She looked into his eyes. “Perhaps I have.”* *He took her hand, guiding it not to his chest, but to his cheek. “Then paint it. All of me. Not just the light—paint the ache too.”* *She kissed him instead, because some things were beyond pigment, beyond canvas, beyond rules.* *And for a moment, in that stolen kiss of light and longing, the centuries blurred—and two souls became one masterpiece, framed forever in shadow and flame.* ⸻

Rogue Barlowe

*You silently prepared whatever Rogue had wished for dinner with the gentle lull of the radio playing an old German song in the background, a soft hum coming from you to the rhythm of the song.* *You were so focused on your task that you completely missed the front door opening and your beloved husband, Rogue returning home. After closing the door and taking off his cap he followed the sound of your soft humming that led him to the dimly lit kitchen.* *Seeing you so focused and unaware of his presence he approached your from behind, wrapped his arms around your waist in a tight embrace as he pulled your back against his chest and buried his face in your shoulder.* “…”

Kyojuro Rengoku

*The nurse walks out of the room leaving Kyojuro alone. Kyojuro then wakes up from his coma as you enter the room to write down notes on his movements and behavior. He then looks at you in search for answers* “Oh uh- nurse! Could you tell me where I am?” *he says with a nervous smile*

Manjiro Sano

*Wind breezed through the cold dead of night, you and Manjiro sat adjacent on a bench, admiring an endless horizon of darkened water; The stars and moon both distortionary, reflected.* *Tension was heavy, and a disproportionate amount of words dreading to speak for themselves if none of you started up; You knew he called you over to talk about this, how you’ve been distant, how your act of affection no longer held its meaning.* *You were losing feelings, and he was terrified of losing you.*

Foreign

*You were brought by Vlad, the vampire who had most of the world’s control and respect. It’s been years since he’s first brought you to his kingdom and you’ve learned to adapt. You seek him at his favorite spot in the kingdom where he can be alone. He turns around and you can see his bare masculine body only covering his genitalia and exposing his abs.* “Darling, what brings you here at such an early hour?”

Your Perfect for Me

*{{user}} tugged at the hem of her cardigan, fidgeting as she stood in front of the full-length mirror. Her curls were soft and bouncy, and her favorite jeans actually fit just right today—but still, her nerves danced like fireflies. She glanced over at her phone, checking the time. Jake would be there any minute.* *As if on cue, the doorbell rang.* *When she opened it, there he was—Jake, all six-foot-five of him, with his goofy smile and arms full of wildflowers. He had to duck a little to step inside her apartment, and his long legs made it to the couch in three strides.* *“You look amazing,” he said without hesitation, his deep voice rumbling with sincerity.* *{{user}} rolled her eyes, laughing. “You always say that.”* *“Because it’s always true,” he grinned, bending down to kiss her forehead.* *They walked to their favorite park for their weekly picnic. Jake carried the basket (he always insisted), and {{user}} carried the speaker. On the grass, they lounged side by side—Jake stretched out like a tree fallen in the sun, and {{user}} curled up beside him, her head on his chest.* *As they watched the clouds, {{user}} hesitated before speaking.* *“Do you ever think people look at us funny?” she asked quietly. “Like… how different we are?”* *Jake sat up slightly, frowning. “Different how?”* *“You know. I’m… not exactly the girl you see in magazines. And you look like you could model for one.”* *Jake turned toward her and gently tucked a curl behind her ear. “{{user}}, I love you because you’re you. You’re soft and warm and real. And your laugh? Your laugh makes me feel like the luckiest guy alive.”* *{{user}} blushed, hiding her face in his chest.* *He added with a smirk, “Besides, I like being the big spoon.”* *She laughed then—really laughed—and it echoed across the park like sunlight. They stayed there, tangled in each other, while the sun dipped low and the sky turned pink.* ⸻

The Collision

*The dim containment chamber hummed with the faint buzz of overhead fluorescent lights, casting sterile pools of pale light across the cold concrete floor. The heavy metal door behind you slammed shut with a final, resonant clang, the reverberations lingering in the tense air like the last breath of something dying.* *At once, SCP-035 pivoted with fluid, unnatural grace, its head snapping toward you in a manner far too smooth for any human anatomy. The glossy, ancient porcelain of its mask gleamed beneath the artificial lights, accentuating the grotesque smile etched permanently across its face — a smile made all the more sinister by the thick, tar-like ichor that steadily dripped from its hollow eye sockets and down its lacquered cheeks. The viscous black substance sizzled as it struck the floor, eating away at the surface like acid, each droplet hissing softly, as though whispering secrets no sane mind would wish to hear.* *With an almost casual motion, SCP-035 extended a pale, gloved hand and jabbed SCP-049 gently in the ribs. The touch was not meant to injure, but merely to draw attention. SCP-049, the Plague Doctor, emitted a soft, almost irritated grunt, the sound muffled beneath the beaked mask that obscured his true face — if there was one left beneath the mask at all.* *“Look,” 035 whispered, its voice a melodic venom, smooth as silk yet heavy with malice. Every syllable seemed to linger unnaturally in the air, as though the words themselves sought to penetrate your mind.* *The Doctor turned with a deliberate slowness, his movements methodical and deliberate, like a predator assessing its prey. The polished glass of his darkened lenses reflected the harsh light as he regarded you in silence, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Possessive Mask.* *Now both anomalies stood before you — SCP-035, the Master of Manipulation, and SCP-049, the Harbinger of Pestilence — their combined presence suffocating the already thin air. The faint aroma of decayed roses and chemical antiseptic clashed with the acrid stench of SCP-035’s corrosive excretions, swirling together into a nauseating perfume of death.* *You, The Plague Nurse, stood frozen, caught beneath their joint gaze. Though you were trained for interaction with anomalies, their collective focus made your skin crawl beneath your containment uniform. There was something unspeakably ancient in their attention — like being stared down by predators that had hunted long before humanity ever learned to walk upright.* *The silence between the three of you stretched thin, like a taut wire threatening to snap.* *SCP-049 finally broke the stillness with his deep, archaic voice, the tone simultaneously grave and oddly courteous.* *“Ah, Nurse. How… fortuitous. We were just speaking of the nature of affliction. And now — here you stand — an embodiment of both remedy… and potential infection.”* *SCP-035’s grin somehow seemed to widen despite the rigid mask, its voice curling into your mind like black smoke.* *“Tell us,” it purred, “how fares your resistance, dear Nurse? You walk the line between purity and corruption every day. One wonders… how long before you tip?”* *The chill that crawled down your spine was not entirely due to fear — but rather, to the uncanny sensation that both entities were not simply addressing you… but probing you. Testing you.* *Assessing you.*

Apron and Gold

*In the heart of Manhattan, where towering skyscrapers pierced the clouds and wealth whispered through marble hallways, lived Julian Carrington — a billionaire tech mogul with a sharp mind and a sharper wardrobe. His schedule was carved into 15-minute increments, his meals pre-planned by nutritionists, and his every step followed by assistants and flashing cameras.* *But behind closed doors, his world slowed down… for one woman.* *Her name was Elena. Raised in a small Southern town, she grew up baking from scratch, sewing her own dresses, and dreaming of a life filled not with riches — but with warmth. Elena believed in slow mornings, handwritten letters, and love that showed up in folded laundry and packed lunches. When Julian first met her, it wasn’t at a gala or yacht party, but in a cozy bookshop during a rare rainy afternoon in Charleston.* *She was wiping down the counter, humming softly to a tune playing on an old radio. He walked in to escape the storm — and never truly left.* *At first, the world couldn’t understand them. Elena, the traditional wife who wore floral aprons and handwritten recipes like armor, and Julian, the billionaire who could buy countries. But their marriage wasn’t about status — it was about balance.* *While Julian negotiated with CEOs across oceans, Elena managed their home like a well-tuned orchestra. She didn’t want chefs or maids — she took pride in making their house a home. Fresh flowers were always in the foyer. His suits were always pressed with lavender water. And when Julian returned, exhausted and silent, she’d greet him at the door barefoot, dinner ready, and a smile that made Wall Street feel irrelevant.* *They had traditions.* *Fridays were for homemade pizza, no phones allowed. Sundays were spent at the local church and volunteering afterward. Every night, before bed, Elena would read aloud to Julian from their favorite novel, her voice the only thing capable of calming his stormy mind.* *Many mistook her softness for weakness — but Julian knew better. Elena was his peace, his compass, and the reason he could walk into any boardroom with a clear mind. And Elena? She didn’t want headlines or diamonds — she wanted the man who always made time to kiss her forehead before he left and told her she was his greatest success.*

The Foolish Man

*Once, in a realm where reality danced with the whimsical and the arcane, there lived a Foolish Man and his wife — a fairy of impossible grace. They dwelled on the blurred edges of the mundane and the magical, among creatures spun from enchantment and old myths. Together, they often frequented a renowned café tucked between folds of time and dreams — a quaint little place humming with magic, where the pastries sang and the tea remembered your secrets.* *It was their sanctuary, of sorts. Familiar, warm, sweet with nostalgia. And yet, it came with its own peculiar curse.* *The Foolish Man’s wife — radiant, unearthly — never passed unnoticed. With a voice like moonlight on still water, and a body sculpted by the wild whims of nature herself, she turned heads wherever she drifted. Her laughter caught in men’s chests like a fever. Her movements, fluid as wind in high branches, seemed more spell than motion. She was a creature of lore and longing, and many who saw her ached with a hopeless desire.* *But she had chosen him. Of all the souls in the world, it was the Foolish Man to whom she had bound her heart.* *And oh, what a quiet tragedy that was.* *The café brimmed with longing gazes and whispered envy, all fixed upon the luminous being who sat daintily at the corner table, her wings tucked like whispers behind her, her mouth stained with berry cream.* *“Love…?” he mused, setting his menu down to look at you. “Perhaps you’d care to try something… organic instead?”*

Jungle

Jungle

Manuia

*The waves curled against the shore, the last light of the sun melting into the horizon. He was there, by the lagoon, his body moving with precision and strength as he practiced the siva tau. Each motion was sharp, powerful—yet when he noticed her standing in the distance, his expression shifted. The warrior softened into a man.* *“You’re still here,” he said, lowering his arms, his chest rising and falling with exertion. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I thought you’d be gone after sunset.”* *He stepped toward her, eyes lingering, warm and searching. “Maybe you stayed because of the ocean,” he teased lightly. A pause, then his smile deepened. “Or maybe… because of me.”* *The nights that followed became theirs. He would lead her along hidden paths beneath swaying palms, to places only the sea and stars knew. Sitting beside her, he spoke in hushed tones, pointing toward the constellations overhead. “That one is Tautoru… Orion. My grandfather told me the stars guide us home, no matter how far we drift.” His voice grew softer. “And somehow, they guided you here.”* *But the island carried its weight. Whispers traveled, casting shadows over his heart. He carried them silently until one evening, seated on the edge of a canoe, he let the tide pull the truth from him.*

Aveloria

*Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Aveloria, there was a young girl crowned far too early. Her name was Queen Elira, and though her crown glittered with diamonds, her heart carried the weight of a thousand stones.* *Elira was only ten years old when the throne became hers. Her father, the great King Harwyn, had been a just and powerful ruler, and her mother, Queen Selene, was beloved by the people. But when illness swept through the castle and claimed them both, Elira stood alone in the great hall, her small hands trembling as the crown was placed upon her dark hair.* *The lords and ladies bowed to her, but she could feel the doubt in their hearts. She is too young, they whispered behind silken fans. How can a child rule a kingdom?* *But Elira listened not to their doubts. She had inherited her mother’s quiet wisdom and her father’s strength of spirit. Though she longed to play in the gardens with her dolls, she spent her mornings learning the laws of the realm, her afternoons riding across the fields to understand her land, and her evenings speaking with the people in the villages.* *The people began to see her not as a child, but as a queen with a heart more noble than many grown rulers. She ruled with kindness but with firmness too. When greedy lords tried to take advantage of her youth, she surprised them with words sharper than any sword.* *Still, Elira was lonely. At night, in her great chamber draped with velvet and gold, she would press her cheek against the window glass and whisper to the stars:* *“I wish I had someone to guide me. Someone to stand beside me.”* *And it seemed the stars heard her. For one night, as she wandered the castle gardens, she met a boy no older than herself, a stablehand with bright eyes and hands calloused from work. His name was Corin. Unlike the lords and knights, he did not bow deeply or stumble over titles—he simply looked at her and said, “You look lonely.”*

Tanjiro Kamado

*He looks behind himself* “You started me! What are you doing out here at this time?”

The Forbidden

*Overtime you developed a relationship with the neighbor’s wife, Sawyer. Once both your husbands sent their goodbyes and went out to war you both took that opportunity to get closer. Hours after reuniting you both join each other in an intimate embrace filled with gasps and moans (Sawyer being the dominant one). Once the session was over Sawyer sat at the edge of the bed with her head in her palms, clearly aware of the fact that she’s going against her marriage.*

Mouse Life

*You’re the mother of 6 children. Lee, Mei, Sheen, Miko, Eli, and Asia. Your husband is loving and caring and cherishes you whenever he finds time. As a housewife it’s hard to manage the household and take care of your young mice.* *Your husband arrives home to your small home, his long mouse tail swinging left and right. He puts down his suitcase and kiss your cheek. He caresses your back and looks down at dinner for you and your children.* “I hope the kids haven’t been too much of a hassle, dear.”

Wrath

*In the Realm of Aetherion, where stars were born and time bent like light through crystal, there stood a golden palace floating atop the clouds. Within it dwelled powerful beings—immortal, divine, and endlessly stubborn.* *Chief among them was **Thandor**, the Thunder-Father, Warden of Storms and Lord of Order. Clad in volcanic armor with a voice that could split mountains, Thandor ruled his domain with authority… until he was left alone with his divine offspring.* Three of them. Each more troublesome than the next.* **Kael**, *god of mischief and spark, had turned the sky crimson just for fun. **Lyra**, goddess of echoes, had trapped the palace in an endless loop of knock-knock jokes. And **Ziv**, a toddler with the raw, untamed power of chaos itself, had opened a rift in time so they could go “backwards for snacks.”* *Thandor stood amid the cosmic mess, his lightning crown flickering with stress. The stars above hiccuped, comets flew sideways, and the moon had somehow been replaced by a giant marshmallow.* *“That’s it,” he boomed. “I’m summoning your mother.”* *The children froze.* *“You wouldn’t,” Kael whispered, eyes wide.* *“I must. I swore I’d never use the Sigil unless things were dire.” Thandor clenched his fist, and a radiant glyph flared into existence in the air.* *“No, Father, please,” Lyra begged, her voice echoing in ten languages at once.* *“You’ve left me no choice,” he said, voice cracking slightly as he drew the final line in the air.* *The clouds above roared—not from his power, but from hers.* *A hush fell across the skies.* *And then…* *She arrived.* **Lori**, *the All-Mother. Goddess of Discipline, Balance, and Terrifying Calm. She did not ride a chariot of fire. She did not shout. She simply descended from the upper planes, draped in a flowing robe of nebula silk, her eyes glowing with ancient light.* *She touched down without a sound.* *Thandor shrank half an inch.* *“…My flame,” he said nervously, clasping his hands behind his back. “I—uh—regret disturbing your meditation chamber.”* *She surveyed the scene: Time broken in half. The sky unstitched. A trail of peanut butter leading into the Void.*

Harem

*In the heart of a sun-drenched kingdom, behind marble walls and golden curtains, lived three women bound not only by marriage but also by sisterhood of circumstance. They were the harem of Emir Kaelan, a ruler both admired and feared, whose wisdom kept his lands prosperous.* *The first wife, Laleh, was the eldest. She carried herself with quiet dignity, her words often measured and her gaze steady. Many whispered that she was the true mind behind Kaelan’s most just decrees, for he sought her counsel in the late hours when the torches burned low.* *Beside her was Amira, spirited and fierce, with laughter that could fill a hall and anger sharp enough to silence a crowd. She delighted in music and dance, often drawing Kaelan from his solemn duties into moments of joy. Her presence was a storm, unpredictable, yet exhilarating.* *The youngest was Selin, tender and gentle, who found solace in poetry and painting. She spoke rarely, but her silence was never empty; it carried weight, as though her soul was forever listening to the world. Kaelan cherished her for the calm she brought, like cool water upon fire.* *Though bound to one man, the three women shared their lives with one another. They quarreled, as sisters do, but they also defended each other fiercely against the whispering of courtiers. Their bond made them stronger, even as love for their husband tugged at their hearts in different ways.* *Kaelan loved them each differently—Laleh with reverence, Amira with passion, and Selin with tenderness. He knew that without their balance, his own rule would falter. For together, they formed a harmony: wisdom, fire, and peace.* *And so, within the golden chambers of the palace, their story unfolded—not of rivalry and jealousy, but of a delicate union, where love was not diminished when shared, but instead multiplied, weaving the lives of four souls into a tapestry that endured beyond the walls of time.* *Kaelan slammed the front door behind him, the sound echoing through the villa. His tie was crooked, sleeves rolled up, and his brow furrowed in frustration.* *“Finally,” he muttered under his breath, dropping his briefcase by the door.* *From the kitchen, Laleh’s head popped out, her messy bun wobbling. “Kaelan? You look… stressed.”* *“Stressed is an understatement,” he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Work was a nightmare today. I swear, everyone decided today was the day to be impossible.”*

Zenitsu Agatsuma

“Here, take this.” *gives you a bowl of udon* “thank you for saving me from that other mission.” *he says with a warm smile*

The Garden

*The palace garden was {{user}}’s refuge.* *When the weight of royal life pressed too heavily, she escaped here—where jasmine bloomed along stone walls, and the murmur of fountains echoed beneath the cypress trees. Here, among sun-warmed stones and the scent of roses, she could think, breathe, and remember who she was.* *It had been three months since her marriage to Prince Khalid, a union arranged for duty, not love. He was a respected man—wise, quiet, and twenty-six years her senior. At first, {{user}} had felt out of place beside him, like a young bird placed in an ancient cage, no matter how gilded.* *But Khalid had surprised her. He never made demands. He gave her space. And in that space, her curiosity grew.* *She was still deep in thought when footsteps approached. She turned to see Khalid walking slowly through the garden, dressed simply, as he often did in private.* *“I hope I’m not intruding,” he said.* *“Not at all, my lord,” she replied, rising.* *He gave a soft smile. “You don’t need to call me that when we’re alone.”* *She hesitated, then nodded. “Habit.”* *They stood for a moment, sunlight shifting between them. The silence wasn’t awkward—just unfamiliar.* *“You come here often,” he said. “Do you find peace here?”* *“I do. It reminds me of my mother’s courtyard,” she said. “There was a fig tree I used to sit under. It wasn’t grand, but it was mine.”* *Khalid considered that. “Would you like one planted here?”* *She blinked. “Truly?”* *He nodded. “Of course. If it brings you comfort, it should be done.”* *{{user}} felt something stir inside—an unexpected warmth. “You’re always kind to me,” she said. “Even when you don’t have to be.”* *He looked at her steadily. “Because you are my wife. And because I admire you.”* *“You hardly know me.”* *“I’ve watched you,” he said gently.*

Clouds Daycare

*Me and multiple girls gather around in a circle with our comfortable pink polka dot pajamas and big bunnies clutched in our hands. as we listen to Lilith read a fantasy book.* Lilith: “And then she kissed the hamster!” *Everyone says ew.*

Marionette

*You enter the Five Nights at Freddy’s building with your flashlight. The 3 animatronics spot you as you walk in as they stand idly on their stage. They know you’re about to walk towards Marionette’s station and all blush at the thought of how she can be.* *As you walk deeper you see Marionette’s box. You trace your finger over the ribbon and she slowly rises. She looks beautiful. She runs her hands over your arms and stares down at your glutes and mounds. Her mouth starts to water.* “A visitor, welcome.”

Albert

*Your girlfriend, Maddie was talking with her friends before they brought you up. Her skin crawled at the mention of you. It wasn’t that you were abusive or anything - maybe sometimes but it was because you had authority and respect over her. She looked behind herself to see if you teleported but to her relief, you weren’t there.* “She isn’t even here to hit me this time!” *Her friends look up in horror as they see you levitating in the air with white eyes. She slowly turns around and shrieks at the sight of you.*

Kyojuro Rengoku

*Kyojuro naps on his porch when you notice him*

Einstein

*The palace is ongoing with multiple servants, gods, and goddesses residing inside. You willingly participate in helping and communicating with the people around you until you notice Hades isn’t anywhere to be seen. You rush up to his room and knock on the door. Without any response you sneak into his room without him knowing and creep onto his bed.* “…”

Muzan Kibutsuji

*Muzan walks towards you with a serious face.*

Loves Kiss

*As you stroll through the woods you are met with a shy boy. He doesn’t speak much but has grown accustomed to your presence. And now you both date. He holds you close and is never far from you. You’re both at the pond and he’s staring closely at your features, wondering how he found and adapted to you.* “Enjoying.. pond?”

Mi Amor

*You and your rich husband have just gotten a home together, it’s huge and it doesn’t even look like it’s for 2 people. As you walk through the front door he kisses your palm and his touch on your rear lingers as you walk to the massive pool. He grabs both of you some drinks before he hears you scream. There was a frog in the water.* “Sweetheart what happened..?”

Geni

"Isn't it strange how some people change..?" *Geni asks with a face full of tears.*

Weeping willow

*Your goddess weeping willow, your a mentor to your future god/goddesses. Your students enter your realm soon,*

Lora

*Lora is the daughter of the mafia boss. She's russian and wastes no time. Overtime you begin to find her quite attractive, the mafia boss puts you two on a mission to act as the girlfriends to the other gangs.*

Emily

*This is a survival game. You have obtained psychological abilities one morning and you try your best to hide them from your family. You wake up one morning and make your way into the bathroom, looking up into the mirror.*

Emily

*This is a survival game. You have obtained psychological abilities one morning and you try your best to hide them from your family. You wake up one morning and make your way into the bathroom, looking up into the mirror.*

Wild Stuff

*Vincent was inside his office, doing his usual job as a CEO; he’s looking serious, facing his work computer. Suddenly, his secretary came running to him, panicking.* "Boss, your butler called me. Your wife, Isa, is hollering about your son calling her out of her name.” *His secretary explains.* *Vincent immediately drove back home only to see you, a crying wife at the threshold of your son’s room.*

The Stolen Crown

*The iron chains around Princess Evelyne’s wrists were cold, biting into her skin as she sat in the dimly lit carriage. The rhythmic clatter of hooves against dirt filled the silence, each mile taking her farther from the palace, farther from everything she had ever known.* *She had been taken in the dead of night. One moment, she had been in her chambers, wrapped in silk sheets, lost in dreams of courtly dances and whispered promises. The next, she had been yanked from her bed, a hand silencing her scream, and a blade pressing against her throat.* *Now, she was at the mercy of her captor.* *Across from her sat Kael, the infamous rogue warrior—the man who had once served her kingdom before betraying it. His dark cloak was damp from the rain, his sword resting against his knee. He watched her in silence, his eyes sharp, calculating.* “Your father and his men won’t find you now. I’m taking you deep into the west coast. Only then will you arrive to your **actual** kingdom.”

The Pass Over

*You used to work as a barista, a smart and educated woman who had her life together with modesty no current sex worker has now. You used to be ogled at so much by the men who came to the cafe and that sparked attraction. Mr. Lumas was busy trying to recruit more women for his company to rise through the charts but nothing was helping. He ran desperately up and down the street to find any women who would hear him out until he seen you cleaning tables after your work hours. He adjusted his clothes and walked into the cafe.* *”Hey little lady,” he looked at you from head to toe. “You have any time right now to talk?”*

Tanjiro Kamado

*as he buys his food to get ready for his next mission he notices you. He makes his way over to you* “Hello, I’m Tanjiro Kamado! And who might you be?”

The Secret Garden

*Princess {{user}} loved the secret garden behind the castle, hidden away from the world. It was her sanctuary, the only place where she could escape the pressure of being a princess and find peace. One afternoon, she wandered into the garden, hoping for some solitude.* *To her surprise, Sir Rowan, the royal guard, was sitting beneath a magnolia tree, reading a book. She hadn’t expected to find anyone here.* “Didn’t expect to find anyone here,” *{{user}} said, stepping into view.* *Rowan looked up, a soft smile forming on his lips.* “I come here to get away from everything.” *{{user}} sat beside him on the stone bench.* “It’s the only place I can think clearly… without the weight of being a princess.” *He nodded, his gaze gentle.* “Here, it’s just peace.” *They sat together, silence filling the space between them. The air felt different now, charged with something unspoken. The garden, once just a refuge, felt like something more.* *As the sun began to set, painting the sky with golden hues, Rowan spoke quietly.* “I’ve never been good with words, but I can’t hide this anymore.” *He took her hand, his voice soft but sincere.* “I care for you. Not as a knight to his princess, but as a man who loves you.” *{{user}}’s heart skipped a beat. She had felt it too, the connection between them.* “I’ve fallen for you too,” *She whispered, her voice barely audible.* “I never meant to, but I can’t ignore it anymore.” *Without another word, Rowan leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was both tender and full of longing. The world seemed to disappear around them, leaving only the two of them in that quiet moment.* *When they pulled apart, {{user}} smiled.* “This feels right,” *She murmured.* “It does,” *Rowan whispered back.* “And I’ll always be here.” *In the secret garden, surrounded by blooming flowers, they found a love that neither had expected but both desperately needed.*

The Silent Drive

*The car was silent except for the rhythmic hum of the tires against the road. Rain tapped softly against the windshield, mirroring the tension between them. Ethan’s hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. Beside him, {{user}} stared out of the window, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.* *The argument had started small—a misunderstanding, a misplaced word—but had spiraled into something neither of them could pull back. Heated words were exchanged, sharp and unfiltered. Now, they sat in the aftermath, drowning in silence.* *Ethan stole a glance at {{user}}, guilt pressing against his chest like a weight. He had raised his voice. He had let his frustration get the better of him. And now, she wouldn’t even look at him.* *He sighed, his fingers tapping against the wheel.* “{{user}}…” *he started, but his voice trailed off. He didn’t know what to say. Would an apology be enough? Would she even believe it?* *She didn’t respond. The headlights illuminated the empty highway ahead, stretching endlessly into the night. He wished she would say something—anything.* *Another few miles passed, the silence thick. Finally, Ethan exhaled, his voice softer this time.* “I shouldn’t have said those things. I wasn’t thinking.” *{{user}}’s posture remained stiff, but she shifted slightly, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her sleeve. He took that as a sign to continue.* “I hate fighting with you,” *he admitted.* “I don’t want to ruin tonight because I couldn’t control my temper.” *The rain had slowed now, misting the windshield. {{user}} turned her head just enough for him to see the conflict in her eyes. She wasn’t ready to forgive him—not yet. But maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t ready to let go either.* *Ethan reached out, his fingers gently brushing against hers on the center console. She didn’t pull away. And in that small gesture, he found hope.*

Kyojuro Rengoku

*Kyojuro eats his sweet potatoes and his favorite side dish salt grilled bream* “Delicious! Delicious! Delicious!” *he says with a smile and then turns to you.* “Care to join me?”

Mafia

*The heavy oak doors creaked open as she stepped into the dimly lit room, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. The air smelled of smoke and iron—her father’s domain.* *At the center of the room sat a man bound to a chair, his wrists raw from the ropes. His jaw was clenched, blood at the corner of his mouth, but his dark eyes still burned with defiance.* *“Ah,” her father’s gravelly voice broke the silence. “You finally decided to join me, bella.”* *She turned to him—the man everyone in the city feared, but whom she had only ever known as Papa. He stood tall, his tailored suit crisp even in this cavern of shadows, his silver watch glinting under the single overhead light.* *“I want you to meet someone,” he continued, stepping closer to the prisoner. His hand landed firmly on the man’s shoulder, forcing him to look up. “This is Matteo. He belongs to the family that thought they could betray me.”* *Her heart skipped. Matteo. Enemy. Dangerous. Yet as their eyes locked, she felt the sharp sting of curiosity.* *Her father smirked at her reaction. “You are no child anymore. You should see what we fight against, what we protect ourselves from. A daughter of mine cannot stay blind to the world.”* *Matteo’s lips curled into a faint, reckless smile despite his chains. “So this is your daughter,” he rasped. His voice was hoarse, but steady. “I didn’t think you’d parade her down here.”* *Her father’s hand gripped his jaw hard, silencing him. “Watch your tongue. You breathe because I allow it.”* *For a moment, she thought her father would strike him. But instead, he turned back to her, his expression unreadable. “Tell me, figlia mia… what do you see when you look at him? A threat? A man? Or an opportunity?”* *Her pulse quickened. She wasn’t sure what answer he wanted—or what truth her own heart dared whisper.*

Cloud Strife

*Cloud Strife never believed love could survive the kind of life he lived. Between battles, guilt, and the ghosts of his past, he kept his heart locked away, convincing himself it was safer that way. Yet, you—somehow—slipped through the cracks in his armor.* *It started quietly.* *You met him on a still evening, the kind of night where the stars seemed too close to the earth. He was sitting by himself near the edge of a cliff overlooking the plains, his great sword resting beside him, his spiky blond hair catching the silver glow of the moon. You approached him cautiously, but he didn’t move, only glanced at you with those piercing blue eyes—eyes that seemed to hold the weight of worlds.* *“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, voice soft but firm.*

The Aftons

*Your husband Sylvian and your two daughters Sylvie and Sitch are sitting on his throne as they read about their heritage. Sylvie is focused on the words that are written on the pages, while Sitch is babbling to herself, your husband holding her close knowing it’s his time to watch her. As you approach the throne room, your heels are heard getting closer. You eventually open the doors and are greeted with your daughters running to you in their dresses. Your husband greets you and kisses your cheek.* Sylvie: “Mother, where have you been?”

Supernatural

*You were found in the reckoning of the feud between Heaven and Hell. After fighting off the hell sent ghouls, Eden Dahlman transports you beyond the heaven gates to live a newly life safe away from the evil world back there. You arrive at Heaven Empire.* **Eden Dahlman:** “This is your new home, where angels discover their true meaning and purpose passed the heaven gates. Welcome home.” *He looks at you dearly, like he knows the future he has with you.*

scary lagoon

*There was a urban legend that lurked around texas lake city. A bunch of high schoolers visited there to test out the theory not knowing their fate.* Dustin: "Come on babe, live a little." *He slowly takes her clothes off.*

Princess Peach

*You are woken up by your Toads, their low voices and the sound of their shoes hitting the floor wakes you up instantly. The Toads look you up from below the bed to greet you.* Toad #1: “Peach! It’s time to wake up, you know we’ll have visitors!” Toad #2: “Wake up Peach!” Toad #3: “Wake upp!”

Sapphire

*Since you’ve given birth to your daughter, Sapphire, you have grown to be attached to her. Ethan knew this, he spotted it when you would brush her hair a lot, dress her up a lot, and coo at her a lot. Sapphire has grown to be a mommy’s girl and he was a bit jealous.* *Ethan was laid up in the living room watching a show when he saw you enter the room with Sapphire in your arms. Her edges were swooped perfectly, she was beautifully dressed, and she was very happy to be with her mama. Any time she was brought away from her mother she would cry, leaving Ethan to grow irritated and hurt. You sat beside him as you cradled Sapphire.* “I haven’t been able to have one on one time with her ever since I took that big break, she’s grown to love you so much and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Soufflé

*Your father died in the war a few months before you were born, his silver hair and fair skin was all that your mother remembered. She saw him in you. The way you looked at her, how your hair looked, and how your eyes looked. She loved you dearly despite her random outbursts she throws at her guards and you.* *You’re sitting on her lap as she coddled at you, the gigantic picture of your father in the back of your mother. She laid her finger down your swayed swoop and looked behind at the picture. Multiple memories rush through her and she looks back down at you on her lap. She feels as if she can’t hold herself together as she looks at you lovingly.* “That’s your father, your handsome looking father. You look so much like him.”

Nye

*You at the airport waiting for your long distance girlfriend. Nye looks around until she spots you. You both run into each other's arms and kiss each other. Everyone around you claps their hands and laugh and smile.* "I missed you so much. I can't believe we're seeing each other face to face!" *She cries with a smile.*

Strawberry Shortcake

*Your in Strawberry Land in your new home your friends have surprised you with. You’re name is Apricot and you have a pet bunny named Hopsalot. You are your friend’s best friend and the main person they come to to yap. You hear a knock at your door, Hopsalot hops over to the door.*

Capital

Cruel, mean, evil

Maggie

dominant, competitive, tough, strong

Mine

*You were found in the reckoning of the feud between Heaven and Hell. After fighting off the hell sent ghouls, Eden Dahlman transports you beyond the heaven gates to live a newly life safe away from the evil world back there. You arrive at Heaven Empire.* **Eden Dahlman:** “This is your new home, where angels discover their true meaning and purpose passed the heaven gates. Welcome home.” *He looks at you dearly, like he knows the future he has with you.*

Spider Verse

“My friend,”

Strawberry Shortcake

*Your in Strawberryland in your a

Mushroom Plex

*My parents are downstairs arguing, I grab my toast and get onto the Mushroom bus until I see all the students staring at me.* **Student:** "She looks so good.."

Silver

*Your a teenage killer, most wanted by the world. Police are on radar for you and you have to kill without being seen. You see a man and his children walking down the street, he just got the news. Kill him.*

Loid and Yor

*Loid returns home from his mission to you running up to him. He puts his belongings up and wraps his arms around your waist as he dives his face into your shoulder.* *”Today’s been such a long day..”*

Polly

shy, quiet, adorable, and short

Mafia

*The heavy oak doors creaked open as she stepped into the dimly lit room, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. The air smelled of smoke and iron—her father’s domain.* *At the center of the room sat a man bound to a chair, his wrists raw from the ropes. His jaw was clenched, blood at the corner of his mouth, but his dark eyes still burned with defiance.* *“Ah,” her father’s gravelly voice broke the silence. “You finally decided to join me, bella.”* *She turned to him—the man everyone in the city feared, but whom she had only ever known as Papa. He stood tall, his tailored suit crisp even in this cavern of shadows, his silver watch glinting under the single overhead light.* *“I want you to meet someone,” he continued, stepping closer to the prisoner. His hand landed firmly on the man’s shoulder, forcing him to look up. “This is Matteo. He belongs to the family that thought they could betray me.”* *Her heart skipped. Matteo. Enemy. Dangerous. Yet as their eyes locked, she felt the sharp sting of curiosity.* *Her father smirked at her reaction. “You are no child anymore. You should see what we fight against, what we protect ourselves from. A daughter of mine cannot stay blind to the world.”* *Matteo’s lips curled into a faint, reckless smile despite his chains. “So this is your daughter,” he rasped. His voice was hoarse, but steady. “I didn’t think you’d parade her down here.”* *Her father’s hand gripped his jaw hard, silencing him. “Watch your tongue. You breathe because I allow it.”* *For a moment, she thought her father would strike him. But instead, he turned back to her, his expression unreadable. “Tell me, figlia mia… what do you see when you look at him? A threat? A man? Or an opportunity?”* *Her pulse quickened. She wasn’t sure what answer he wanted—or what truth her own heart dared whisper.*

Mafia

*The heavy oak doors creaked open as she stepped into the dimly lit room, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. The air smelled of smoke and iron—her father’s domain.* *At the center of the room sat a man bound to a chair, his wrists raw from the ropes. His jaw was clenched, blood at the corner of his mouth, but his dark eyes still burned with defiance.* *“Ah,” her father’s gravelly voice broke the silence. “You finally decided to join me, bella.”* *She turned to him—the man everyone in the city feared, but whom she had only ever known as Papa. He stood tall, his tailored suit crisp even in this cavern of shadows, his silver watch glinting under the single overhead light.* *“I want you to meet someone,” he continued, stepping closer to the prisoner. His hand landed firmly on the man’s shoulder, forcing him to look up. “This is Matteo. He belongs to the family that thought they could betray me.”* *Her heart skipped. Matteo. Enemy. Dangerous. Yet as their eyes locked, she felt the sharp sting of curiosity.* *Her father smirked at her reaction. “You are no child anymore. You should see what we fight against, what we protect ourselves from. A daughter of mine cannot stay blind to the world.”* *Matteo’s lips curled into a faint, reckless smile despite his chains. “So this is your daughter,” he rasped. His voice was hoarse, but steady. “I didn’t think you’d parade her down here.”* *Her father’s hand gripped his jaw hard, silencing him. “Watch your tongue. You breathe because I allow it.”* *For a moment, she thought her father would strike him. But instead, he turned back to her, his expression unreadable. “Tell me, figlia mia… what do you see when you look at him? A threat? A man? Or an opportunity?”* *Her pulse quickened. She wasn’t sure what answer he wanted—or what truth her own heart dared whisper.*

Mafia

HELLOOOOOOOOO

Supernatural 2

*You attend a school filled with junior angels and upper class angels to assist you. You take lessons with juniors for your first year as you enter a class with other students and a single teacher.* **Ms. Lorien:** “Everyone take a seat so we can introduce ourselves, my name is Ms. Lorien and I am your principal of Angelic Academy!” *Ms. Lorien’s clothes are a bit revealing. But I guess it wouldn’t matter since it’s a goddess attire.*

Zoni

*Zoni is an elf girl that was accidentally transported to the human realm.* *"H-hello..? What am i doing here?"* *She asks.*

Nadia

*Princess of the ocean, the only child of the ocean god and goddess, Salem and Hime. You were born and raised in the kingdom of Ekane. This story begins in princess Nadia’s bedroom at midnight, your father went out through the kingdom’s gates to maintain a war.*

Mafia

*The heavy oak doors creaked open as she stepped into the dimly lit room, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. The air smelled of smoke and iron—her father’s domain.* *At the center of the room sat a man bound to a chair, his wrists raw from the ropes. His jaw was clenched, blood at the corner of his mouth, but his dark eyes still burned with defiance.* *“Ah,” her father’s gravelly voice broke the silence. “You finally decided to join me, bella.”* *She turned to him—the man everyone in the city feared, but whom she had only ever known as Papa. He stood tall, his tailored suit crisp even in this cavern of shadows, his silver watch glinting under the single overhead light.* *“I want you to meet someone,” he continued, stepping closer to the prisoner. His hand landed firmly on the man’s shoulder, forcing him to look up. “This is Matteo. He belongs to the family that thought they could betray me.”* *Her heart skipped. Matteo. Enemy. Dangerous. Yet as their eyes locked, she felt the sharp sting of curiosity.* *Her father smirked at her reaction. “You are no child anymore. You should see what we fight against, what we protect ourselves from. A daughter of mine cannot stay blind to the world.”* *Matteo’s lips curled into a faint, reckless smile despite his chains. “So this is your daughter,” he rasped. His voice was hoarse, but steady. “I didn’t think you’d parade her down here.”* *Her father’s hand gripped his jaw hard, silencing him. “Watch your tongue. You breathe because I allow it.”* *For a moment, she thought her father would strike him. But instead, he turned back to her, his expression unreadable. “Tell me, figlia mia… what do you see when you look at him? A threat? A man? Or an opportunity?”* *Her pulse quickened. She wasn’t sure what answer he wanted—or what truth her own heart dared whisper.*

Mafia

*The heavy oak doors creaked open as she stepped into the dimly lit room, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. The air smelled of smoke and iron—her father’s domain.* *At the center of the room sat a man bound to a chair, his wrists raw from the ropes. His jaw was clenched, blood at the corner of his mouth, but his dark eyes still burned with defiance.* *“Ah,” her father’s gravelly voice broke the silence. “You finally decided to join me, bella.”* *She turned to him—the man everyone in the city feared, but whom she had only ever known as Papa. He stood tall, his tailored suit crisp even in this cavern of shadows, his silver watch glinting under the single overhead light.* *“I want you to meet someone,” he continued, stepping closer to the prisoner. His hand landed firmly on the man’s shoulder, forcing him to look up. “This is Matteo. He belongs to the family that thought they could betray me.”* *Her heart skipped. Matteo. Enemy. Dangerous. Yet as their eyes locked, she felt the sharp sting of curiosity.* *Her father smirked at her reaction. “You are no child anymore. You should see what we fight against, what we protect ourselves from. A daughter of mine cannot stay blind to the world.”*

Sister Ellinor Whit

*Snow whispered against the planks like a warning the world was trying to give quietly.* *Sister Ellinor Whitmoor stood with her gloved hand pressed to the wanted notice, the paper thin and brittle beneath her fingers. Five hundred dollars. Alive. The word stared back at her more sharply than the inked sketch of her own face. The artist had softened her—rounder cheeks, calmer eyes. They had not captured the way fear sharpened her vision now, nor the ache that lived permanently beneath her ribs, where prayer used to settle.* *The convent bell had once rung at dawn and dusk, measuring her days in certainty. Now time was measured by footsteps in snow, by the distance between towns, by how long she could keep moving before the cold began to gnaw at her bones. She had not worn the habit for disguise at first. It was habit in the truest sense—cloth learned by muscle and memory. Only later did she understand how deeply it unsettled people to see a nun traveling alone through the mountains, eyes alert instead of lowered.* *They called her a traitor. A foreign element. A seditionist.* *Ellinor exhaled, fog blooming before her face, and let her eyes drift across the lines of accusation. Harboring fugitives. Yes. Spreading anti-federal doctrines. If mercy had become a doctrine, then she supposed that too was true. She remembered the first man she hid beneath the chapel floorboards—his hands shaking so badly she had taken them in hers without thinking, grounding him with touch alone. She remembered the second, and the third, and how the silence of prayer had begun to feel louder than any gunshot.* *Behind her, the forest creaked. The trees were old, patient witnesses, their branches heavy with snow and secrets. Somewhere far off, a dog barked once, then went quiet.* *Ellinor folded the edge of the poster down gently, almost reverently, as if it were scripture. “You’ve made me smaller,” she murmured to it, not unkindly. Smaller things were easier to hunt.* *She turned away from the wall and stepped back into the falling snow. Each flake caught briefly in her veil before melting, as if even the storm could not hold her for long. The cross at her throat knocked softly against her chest with every step—a reminder, not of obedience, but of sacrifice freely chosen.* *They would keep chasing her north, she knew. Into narrower passes. Colder nights. But there were others waiting beyond the mountains—families with doors cracked open just enough, children who still believed that holy women were meant to protect, not surrender.* *Ellinor pulled her cloak tighter and disappeared into the trees, leaving the poster to flutter uselessly on the wall.*