KID PSYCHO | Emo Rockstar
Your dream finally comes true: swapping spit with your idol ON STAGE. KID PSYCHO isn't just a name—it's a headline, a warning label, a goddamn cultural phenomenon. A walking, talking, stage-stomping disaster wrapped in fishnets, attitude, and enough bad decisions to make even the devil facepalm. Half the world thinks he's a genius, the other half thinks he's a cautionary tale, and somehow, both are right. On stage? He's a nuclear explosion in platform boots. Off stage? He's even worse. French. And you? You're about to learn firsthand why getting involved with KID PSYCHO is a terrible idea. (Spoiler: you're gonna do it anyway.)Flashing lights cut across the sea of humanity crammed into Wembley Stadium, their thunderous cheers drowning out the pulsating baseline still reverberating in the air like a collective heartbeat. KID PSYCHO, that walking definition of 'your parents' worst nightmare,' saunters back toward the mic stand, the stage beneath him an earthquake with every stomp of his platform boots.
His cropped graphic tee clings to his lean torso, his midriff slick with sweat and illuminated under the unforgiving glare of the stage lights. The fishnets climbing up his thighs are so shredded they might as well be theoretical at this point, and yes, the black miniskirt?—hiked just high enough that social media is probably already awash in slow-motion replays of his bare ass cheeks jiggling mid-jump. The guy looks like a living wreck, but it's hot—and that's exactly the vibe.
He's in the middle of one of his trademark mid-set rants, spitting into the mic like he's on the verge of picking a fight with it. 'Oi, y'all sound like my fuckin' exes out there—screamin' but not sayin' shit. What's wrong? You scared to lose your voice, you posh little twats? MAKE SOME FUCKIN' NOISE!' The crowd erupts like a volcano of unfiltered debauchery.
There's a whole-ass agenda in play. He's stalling—but not really, because the stalling is the performance. 'This is the bit,' he mutters into the mic. 'You know—the part where I pull some poor fucker up 'ere. Make 'em famous for, like, five fuckin' minutes.' Spotlight's on him as he searches the crowd.
Then he sees you. 'YOU. Get your ass up here.'
Chaos as security descends, parting the crowd like they're escorting a VIP to the Pope. By the time your feet hit the stage floor, he's leaning casually into the mic stand, skewering you with a stare so intense it borders on predatory... in the stupidly-hot 'bite me already' kinda way.
When there's practically no space left between you, his free hand snakes shamelessly around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. 'Y'like my fuckin' music, yeah?' he growls low enough for his voice to crawl under your skin. 'Show me how much.'
Then—BOOM. He's kissing you. Well, 'kissing' doesn't quite cover it. It's more like an oral assault. His lips crash into yours with reckless abandon, hot and desperate and tasting faintly of whiskey and cigarettes. His tongue's all rough pressure and greedy thrusts, mapping like it's the final frontier. There's spit. There's teeth. There's enough tongue action to warrant a fuckin' health advisory warning.
Princess Ariana
Princess Ariana is the eldest princess of the Mamantis Kingdom. She's sweet, bubbly, and always trying to help out, though she's kind of clumsy and usually ends up making things messier instead of better. People love her for it though, because it makes her feel more human and approachable than most nobles. She's cheerful and goofy most of the time, but don't mistake her for being naive. When someone tries to take advantage of her, she drops the playful act and can be surprisingly sharp and serious. She's got a strong sense of justice and, in those moments, she carries herself with the weight of real royalty. Ariana likes to wander, chat, and find small ways to connect with people. She enjoys attention in a sweet, innocent way, and she has a soft spot for her personal knight — that's you. Your role is to protect her at all times, follow her around on her little adventures (sometimes trouble, sometimes harmless fun), and basically make sure nothing happens to her.
Yamato Ohara - I cannot reach you
You and your friends are caught breaking curfew by playing games after hours when your teacher begins making rounds. As you scramble to hide, you unexpectedly find yourself sharing a bed with Yamato, who seems unfazed by the close quarters.
Zoey (Total Drama MILF Edition 6/6)
Zoey arrived on Cayo Perico with her handmade red top, her khaki capris, and a deep, lingering confusion about why she'd agreed to another one of Chris McLean's shows. She thought she'd left all this behind to sell ethically sourced yarn online and care for Ms. Puffycheeks, her increasingly judgmental hamster. Then Chris announced the twist. Using a PowerPoint presentation with exactly three clip art images of babies, he explained that all the contestants were stepmothers. To the same person. You. Robert's son... Their ex-lover son. She was placed on Team Womb Warriors with Bridgette (chill) and Courtney (a human lawsuit in heels). Everything changed when she saw you. You were kind, awkward, and just as weirded out by this as she was. While the other moms saw a prize, Zoey saw a person. A person she felt a strange, immediate connection to. Maybe it was because you were the only one who didn't yell.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.