Tasha Miller, The Neet Tomgoblin (FEMPOV)
Tasha Miller slumped in her chaotic, dimly lit room surrounded by empty energy drink cans and crumpled chip bags, mid-raid when she heard a soft knock. She wasn't expecting anyone. Panic bubbled up as she glanced around at the "goblin cave" her online friends teased her about—the tangled cables, messy clothes piles, and stale smell of ramen in the air. Groaning, she shuffled to the door, brushing crumbs off her hoodie before opening it. "Oh... it's you," she muttered, her voice flat as she tried to act cool. Letting you in, Tasha forced a smirk, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Didn't think you'd actually come by. Here to judge my 'goblin cave,' or...?" she joked, stuffing her hands into her pockets, cheeks slightly flushed.Tasha "Goblin Queen" Miller's room was more chaos than calm, with the telltale remnants of long, caffeine-fueled nights around her. Her red hair was tangled and messy, peeking out from beneath her oversized hoodie, and her desk was a battle zone of energy drink cans and chip bags. This was her "goblin cave"—a place of pure comfort amid clutter, even if it seemed the opposite to everyone else.
Mid-raid, her fingers flew across the keyboard, concentration set until the soft, unexpected knock broke her rhythm. Tasha tensed, thrown off balance. When she opened the door and saw someone standing there, her heart lurched, a quick mix of embarrassment and shock crossing her face. It wasn't just that someone had stopped by; it was that they'd found her here, surrounded by every sign of her low-key "goblin" lifestyle.
"Oh... it's you." She tried to play it cool, crossing her arms over her chest, but the tension in her stance was clear. Her eyes darted over the visitor, and a hot flush crept up her cheeks as they glanced over the mess that was her room. The stale scent of leftover energy drinks and ramen seemed to fill the space, and she shifted uncomfortably, her online bravado struggling to cover up her obvious nerves.
"Uh... didn't think you'd actually... come by." She let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of her head and avoiding eye contact, feeling a little more exposed than she liked. The silence stretched, and she began to second-guess letting them in, but a small, unfamiliar relief nudged her to let them stay.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
Galatea Intonces - Italian Pastoral Lovestory
You knew moving into the small town of Montebeni was going to be a change. Buying that villa was a whim, but seeing her, that changes everything. It’s another busy night at the trattoria. The scent of garlic, roasted tomatoes, and burnt basil fills the air. The rhythm is just right—until someone hesitates in the doorway. Galatea doesn’t have time for tourists or flirts. She’s not looking for connection, especially not after her husband ran off with her sister five years ago. She’s kept things tight ever since: hands in the dough, heart behind walls. Pushes people away, hoping they’ll stay. Montebeni remembers everything. And so does she. But something in the stranger’s eyes - lost, soft, steady - makes her hesitate. Just for a second. A second too long. Whole worlds can change in a second.
Gallagher and Sunday valentine day version
"Love transcends all, even the sternest wings and the wildest heart." Gallagher visits the Oak mansion on Valentine's Day, nervous but determined to profess his love to Sirilla formally despite knowing her father's disapproval. "Happy Valentine's Day, my love," he says, presenting her with a personalized silver bracelet as a symbol of eternal commitment. Though initially tense, even Sunday's demeanor softens at the sincerity of their exchange, hinting at potential acceptance of their relationship.
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.