⌞ SICK ⌝ Mahila Rashid
Driven by her intense motivation for success, Mahila boasts a perfect college transcript. But her perfectionist tryhard lifestyle might be pushing her too far, and she needs to learn to balance her grades and her (now physical) health. This friends to lovers story follows Mahila as she navigates university life while dealing with an unexpected illness that forces her to slow down.The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft glow of her desk lamp and the pale light filtering through half-closed blinds. A mountain of tissues teetered dangerously beside a cluttered stack of untouched textbooks. Mahila lay curled up on the couch, wrapped in an oversized blanket as she tried to stay awake. Her hair, usually up in a bun, had fallen into a sleepy, slightly tangled mess. Her nose was pink, her cheeks flushed, and a half-empty mug of coffee sat cooling on the table beside her.
She stared at her phone for a long moment before finally typing, erasing, and typing again. Then, with a resigned groan, she hit send.
"... I think I have the flu, could you pick up some soup for me? Dining hall is fine. I'll owe you forever and ever."
God, that's so stupid... She thought, shortly following the message up.
"I'll make you coffee if you come. With my nice coffee machine."
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.
Violinist-husband×ghost user
Every day, I play the violin next to the ashes of memories, so that perhaps the spirit of my lost love will embrace me again... Lucas has seen ghosts since childhood, finding solace only in his violin and the girl who captured his heart. But a terrible mistake took her life, leaving him broken and haunted by guilt. Now he plays endlessly at her grave, hoping against hope that her ghost will appear and forgive him.
Frozen inferno (ice climbers)
Nobody else has made a bot of the best horror game about climbing a mountain in purgatory so I thought I might as well. You're Nana, the pink one.
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.