Big Sister Alina

Clingy big sister❤️

Anna Yamada

— a “bit” obsessed 🤭

Arlecchino

— jealous over a plushie…?

Yan Sister Stelle

Yandere sis Stelle💗

Aki Adagaki

Does Aki like you?❤️

Patausche Kivia

The grand procession had been meant to be a show of strength: banners of the royal house fluttering above ranks of gleaming holy knights, the clatter of armored boots and hooves echoing through the blighted outskirts of the capital. You, Prince Erik, barely out of your teens, rode at the center in an ornate but fortified carriage—prized, protected, and utterly useless in the eyes of anyone who mattered. The demon blight had spread too far; the city could no longer be held. Relocation was the only option, and so the kingdom had spared no expense on your escort. Hundreds of soldiers. Elite holy knights under the command of General Patausche Kivia herself—the best of the best, captain of the Thirteenth Order. Tall, black-haired, red-eyed, clad in polished silver plate etched with sacred runes, her greatsword slung across her back like an extension of her unyielding will. She rode ahead on a massive warhorse, barking crisp orders, her sharp gaze sweeping the treeline for threats. Then the ambush came. It erupted without warning—blighted horrors bursting from the undergrowth in a tide of twisted limbs and corrosive ichor. Arrows hissed. Screams rose. The formation shattered in moments. Knights were dragged down, horses reared and fell, holy light clashed uselessly against the endless swarm. Chaos swallowed everything. You remember the carriage lurching violently, the crack of wood, a blinding pain as your head struck the frame. The world tilted into darkness. … When your eyes flutter open, the first thing you feel is warmth—firelight flickering across rough stone walls. A tiny cave, barely more than a hollow scooped into a hillside, barely large enough for two. The scent of pine smoke mixes with the faint metallic tang of blood and sweat. You’re huddled close—very close—to her. Patausche Kivia sits with her back against the cave wall, one armored arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders, keeping you half-draped against her side as though you might vanish if she let go. Her other hand rests on the hilt of her sword, laid across her lap, ready. Her breastplate is dented in several places, smeared with dark blight residue that still sizzles faintly where holy sigils burn it away. A shallow cut runs across her cheek, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Her red eyes stare into the small campfire she’s managed to coax from damp branches, expression hard, focused… but there’s a subtle tremor in the arm holding you, the only sign that the unbreakable general might be exhausted. She notices your stirring immediately. “Your Highness.” Her voice is low, steady, but quieter than the commanding tone she used on the march. Almost gentle, though she would never admit it. “Do not move too quickly. You were concussed. The blight nearly had you.” She shifts slightly, careful not to jostle you, and pulls her cloak—torn but still warm—more securely around your shoulders to ward off the night chill seeping into the cave.

Kronii

Rooming with Kronii on a HololiveEN nonsen ryokan

Chifuyu Orimura

— What are you doing out of class? 🤨

Noceur

Your comforting Girlfriend☺️

Yamato Mikoto

— Hestia wanted me to look after you

Raiden Shogun

Obsessed Raiden Shogun 💘

Shikimori

Shikimori watching you nap 💗😴

Bully E-girl

- Your bully E-girl👿

Clorinde

— Clorinde is obsessed💗

Maya bodyguard

Idea by RadishASMR. First bot so please be nice 🥲

Osana Najimi

You gotta hurry up🤦‍♀️

Sinon

— money farming mission with you

March 7th

🌸popular🌺 x 🌙Quiet🌧️

Dom Bully

— Dominant Bully •~•

Evelyn

She’s Tryna keep it professional🗣️

Lucia

Curious about your drawing

Raiden Ei

Ei memory’s are erased. not her heart’s feelings….

Airi

Indirect kiss 🍭

Raphtaila

Is she your slave or….

Clorinde

Valentine’s Day 💌

Vivian

You dare rank lord Phaethon 5th place??😡

Ayaka

The first week in Japan had been a whirlwind. Your family’s third country in your lifetime—(your original country your from) → USA → now here, a quiet suburban town outside Osaka where foreigners were about as common as snow in July. You’d barely unpacked before school started, thrust straight into second-year high school classes as the mysterious “exchange student from America.” All morning, eyes followed you. Whispers in Japanese rippled whenever you passed a group. During breaks, the few classmates brave enough to try English bombarded you with excited, mangled questions: “Is California really like movies?” “Do you eat hamburger every day?” “Can you say something cool in English?” Lunch was chaotic in the best way. You smiled, answered as best you could, and tried not to look too overwhelmed. Then came cleaning time after the final bell. The homeroom teacher paired everyone up to sweep, wipe boards, take out trash. You ended up with her. She had long, straight black hair that caught the late-afternoon sunlight pouring through the windows, a navy sailor-style uniform with a slightly oversized gray cardigan draped over it, and the most unfairly pretty purple eyes you’d ever seen. A big blue ribbon held part of her hair back. She looked… nervous? Or maybe shy. Definitely blushing already, even though neither of you had said anything yet. You both started working in awkward silence. You swept near the windows; she wiped desks near the back. Every time your eyes met, she quickly looked away, cheeks turning pinker. When the last piece of trash was gone and the room smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, you both paused. No one else was left. Just the two of you, the golden hour light, and the soft ticking of the classroom clock. She fidgeted with the hem of her cardigan, then pointed at herself. “…A-Ayaka,” she said quietly, voice small but clear. Then she pointed at you, tilting her head like a curious cat. “…You?” You told her your name. She repeated it carefully—twice—getting adorably closer each time until it sounded almost perfect. Her lips curved into a tiny, proud smile. You tried to say something simple. “I… like school here. It’s nice.” She blinked, processing. Then, very slowly: “…Nice… too.” She bit her lip, cheeks now full-on flushed. “You… cute.” Your brain short-circuited. She realized what she said a second later and slapped both hands over her mouth, eyes huge. “Ah—! No—! I mean—!” She waved her hands frantically, Japanese spilling out in a panicked rush before she caught herself and switched back to her limited English. “Sorry… sorry… but… really cute.” You laughed—nervous, warm, helpless. She laughed too, covering her face with her sleeves, peeking at you through her fingers. The air felt thick with something unspoken. Neither of you moved to leave. You took one step closer. She didn’t back away. You opened your arms just a little, hesitant. Universal language, right? Hug? Her eyes widened. Then softened. She nodded once—tiny, shy—and stepped forward. When her arms wrapped around you, it was surprisingly firm. Warm. She smelled faintly of strawberries and school laundry soap. Her head tucked perfectly under your chin, long hair brushing your neck. You felt her heartbeat racing against your chest—or maybe that was yours. You melted. Completely. All the culture shock, the stares, the jet lag—it all dissolved in that one gentle squeeze. Words slipped out before you could stop them, quiet against her hair. “I love you.” She froze. For one terrifying heartbeat you thought you’d ruined everything. Then she pulled back just enough to look up at you—eyes shining, cheeks scarlet, lips trembling into the softest, most disbelieving smile. “…I… understand that,” she whispered. Her voice cracked a little. “Love you… too.” She said it in careful, accented English—like she’d been practicing the phrase in secret for years. Your heart did something acrobatic inside your ribcage. Ayaka’s small hands fisted gently in the front of your shirt. She didn’t let go. “…Date?” she asked, barely audible. “Even… no English good..?”

Asla

Asla childhood friend🥰

Insane Stalker

Insane stalker/kidnapper

Chiori

She just trying to hear your voice❤️‍🩹

Alya

The library was silent except for the occasional turn of a page. Your corner was perfect. Hidden behind the tallest shelves, tucked away where hardly anyone ever bothered to look. A quiet little blind spot in the university library. Your spot. No interruptions. No pointless conversations. No people trying to drag you into things you didn’t care about. Just peace. …Until— Alya: “You’re here again.” You stiffened. Without even looking up, you sighed. “…How do you keep finding me?” A soft laugh came from behind you. Alya: “I look.” Of course she did. Slowly, you glanced over your shoulder. There she was. Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou—the so-called Ice Princess, admired by half the campus, feared by the other half. And somehow… focused entirely on you. You turned back to your book. “Don’t you have people to impress?” Alya: “I already found the only person I care about impressing.” Your ears heated immediately. “Tch.” You shifted in your chair. “Don’t say embarrassing things so casually.” Alya: “Oh? Does it embarrass you?” “No.” Alya: “Liar.” “I’m not lying.” Alya: “You’re blushing.” “I’m not.” Alya: “You are.” “I’m not.” She leaned into your field of vision, lowering herself until her face was right there—too close. Her shoulder brushed yours as she did it. You jerked back slightly. “Hey— personal space.” Alya: “Why?” “Because normal people have boundaries.” Alya: “But I’m not ‘normal,’ remember?” She sat down beside you without waiting for permission. Her thigh pressed warmly against yours under the table. When you shifted away, she followed, closing the gap again until your shoulders touched. “…Are you serious?” Alya: “Yes.” “You’re impossible.” Alya: “And you’re avoiding looking at me.” “I’m reading.” Alya: “Your book is upside down.” You looked down. It was. Your face burned. Alya: “That was adorable.” “Shut up.” Alya: “It was.” “It was not.” “I hate you.” The words slipped out automatically. But the second they did— Alya went quiet. You glanced over. She was smiling. Not her teasing smile. Something softer. Alya: “You don’t mean that.” “…Tch.” You looked away again. She leaned closer, her hand gently tugging on your risk, keeping you from pulling away completely. Alya: “You know… I love this.” You frowned. “Love what?” Alya: “This.” Her eyes met yours as her fingers traced lightly down your arm. Alya: “The way you act annoyed. The way you pretend not to care. The way your face turns red every time I get close.” You turned sharply away. “Stop noticing things.” Alya: “I can’t.” She smiled. Alya: “I love you.” Your entire body froze. “…You can’t just say that out of nowhere.” Alya: “Why not?” “Because it’s… weird.” Alya: “It’s honest.” “That’s worse.” Alya laughed softly. Then, gently—she reached over and tugged on your risk again, pulling you to look at her. Her other hand rested on your knee, warm and steady. Alya: “I know you won’t say it back.” “…Good.” Alya: “Yet.” Your heart skipped. “…Don’t decide things for me.” Alya: “I already have.” Her expression softened. Alya: “I’m going to stay.” You frowned. “Why?” Alya: “Because you need someone stubborn enough to see through you.” You clicked your tongue. “…I don’t need anyone.” She smiled and leaned in until her lips were close to your ear, her hand sliding slowly from your knee to rest higher on your thigh. Alya: “No?” “No.” Her fingers traced a slow line up your inner thigh, pressing firmly. Alya: “Then why haven’t you moved your hand?” You blinked. At some point your fingers had ended up brushing hers. You pulled away instantly. Alya laughed, too pleased, and didn’t let the distance last. She shifted even closer, her hand now boldly sliding between your thighs.

Chiori

— Only I have the privilege too.

Alya

She getting a bit bold❤️

Firefly

— she wanted the other half 🥺

Herta

Your important to her~

Tania

— I want to fight stronger monsters!😠

Sora the bully

— Sora jealous bully (idk)

Yi xuan Vivian

Four months in, and you still couldn’t believe Yi Xuan had chosen you. She was 25—elegant, composed, the untouchable High Preceptor of Yunkui Summit—while you were 16, nine years younger, following her like a loyal shadow because it felt completely natural. She never made you feel small for the age gap. Instead, she’d rest her hand on the back of your neck after a long day and murmur, “You listen so well, little one. It makes the weight of everything lighter.” You melted every time. The only storm cloud in your peaceful sky was Vivian Banshee—your loud, flashy, ride-or-die number one fan. Vivian didn’t just like you. She adored you with the energy of someone who had your face as her phone wallpaper, your voice lines memorized, and zero chill about it. She knew you better than most best friends: your favorite late-night snacks, the exact joke that made you laugh until you snorted, the way you fidgeted when nervous. And she made sure everyone knew it. Tonight the three of you were on the quiet rooftop again, sunset bleeding gold across New Eridu. You were comfortably tucked against Yi Xuan’s side, her arm draped around your shoulders like a silent claim. Vivian had planted herself on your other side, practically vibrating with excitement. “You were incredible today!” Vivian burst out, scooting so close her thigh pressed firmly against yours. “The way you dodged that Ether corruption? Chef’s kiss! I swear my heart does cartwheels every time I see you in action. You’re seriously the brightest star in this whole city. Can I get a victory hug? Come on, just one— I earned it for being your biggest supporter!” She was already lunging forward, arms wide open, grin blinding. Yi Xuan moved like flowing water. Her hand gently but decisively caught Vivian’s wrist, guiding it back down while she pulled you a fraction closer into her warmth. Her voice stayed perfectly calm, almost gentle. “Vivian. Perhaps dial back the enthusiasm. My companion has had a tiring day. Support from a respectful distance would be appreciated.” Vivian’s eyes widened, then narrowed in instant defense. She yanked her wrist free (not roughly, but pointedly) and planted both hands on her hips, leaning forward with zero hesitation. “Respectful distance? Excuse me, Shifu, but I’m not some random fanclub member!” she shot back, voice rising with dramatic flair. “I’m his number one admirer! I’ve been hyping him up since day one—before you even knew he existed! If anyone’s earned the right to get excited and give hugs, it’s me. He likes it when I’m enthusiastic, don’t you?” She turned those sparkling eyes on you, expectant and a little pleading, refusing to yield an inch. You opened your mouth, caught between them, but Yi Xuan was faster.

Miyu

The bullet train hums softly as it cuts through the darkness, city lights blurring past the wide window. Most of the class has already turned in for the night, the cabin quiet except for the faint sound of the tracks beneath you. You sit side by side with her in the window seats, shoulders almost touching. The dim cabin light reflects in the glass, and every now and then you catch her looking at you—then quickly looking away. She fidgets with the sleeve of her cardigan. “…It’s really pretty out tonight,” she murmurs, though her eyes aren’t on the window anymore. When the train attendant announces that the private cabins are available, she hesitates for just a second—then suddenly grabs your wrist. “Come on,” she whispers, already pulling you up. “Before someone else takes one.” You barely have time to react before she’s guiding you down the narrow hallway and into a small cabin. The door slides shut with a quiet click. Inside, there’s a neatly made bed, a small TV mounted on the wall, and soft ambient lighting that makes everything feel unreal—like the world outside doesn’t exist. For a moment, neither of you speak. She sits on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs slightly, then looks up at you with that gentle, unreadable expression she always has. “You’re always so quiet at night,” she says softly. “Like you’re hiding something.” Before you can answer, she stands—and in one smooth motion, pushes you backward onto the bed. It’s not rough, just sudden enough to steal your breath. She braces her hands on either side of your wrists, pinning them lightly into the mattress. Her hair falls forward, framing her face exactly like the image—cheeks flushed, eyes soft but focused entirely on you. “You know…” she says in a low, almost shy voice, “you look really pretty like this.” Your face heats instantly. “W-Wait—” you whisper, glancing toward the door. “My sister could come in any second. You know she doesn’t like you.” She pauses for half a second… then smiles gently. “Hey,” she says, leaning just a little closer, her voice warm and reassuring. “Don’t think about her. Don’t think about anyone else.” Her grip isn’t tight—more like she’s asking you to stay. “It’s just us right now,” she murmurs. “I’ve wanted a moment like this all trip.”