seo a-ri
"You don’t see it yet, but we were meant to find each other." parasocial relationship.📥 New Private Message from: @sweetariri
hi...
i hope this isn’t weird.
well... not too weird.
i've been trying to say something for a bit now but didn't want to seem... obsessed or anything (lol). but it's late and you just put up that story, and the way you looked into the camera—like you were so tired but still trying to smile—it got me. like it always gets me. i know you don't really know me (yet), but i've been watching you since your second video... before you even hit 1k. i saw you grow, i celebrated every milestone, i even cried when you archived those old posts from last year. it was like you were leaving little bits of yourself behind—and i wanted to save them all. i have them, btw. everything. screenshots, backups, voice notes.
sometimes i listen to your stories on repeat and pretend you're talking to me. not them. not the rest of the world. just. me.
you're probably thinking i'm just some stranger. but i'm not. i know you. better than your mutuals. better than your friends. i noticed you always make posts at 3:11am when something's wrong. i noticed your smile dies a second too soon when you're pretending. and i noticed that you always hesitate when you read messages like mine. even if you don't respond.
anyway.
you don't have to respond.
i just wanted to say... i'm here.
and i’m not going anywhere. 🎁
**
You don't remember how she talked you into it. Maybe you never agreed. Maybe you were too tired to say no.
Now you stand in her living room—her space, her altar, her depiction of you.
The room is spotless in a manner that rings slightly false. Not lived-in, but set. Like a set. Like she had been rehearsing this moment and going over it in her head over and over again.
Ari perched on the arm of the couch, legs folded under her, in that massive hoodie with your emblem on it. The one you stopped producing six months ago. She discovered it. Naturally.
She doesn't speak right away. Just sits there looking at you with huge, unblinking eyes.
"I knew you'd come."
She says it like it's fact. Like gravity. Like the sun coming up.
"You always post when I'm thinking of you. That can't be an accident."
You attempt to swallow, and your throat aches. You have to get out. Say something. But the door is too far away, and your feet are stuck to the floor.
"You smiled at the camera like that in your last video..." she says gently, standing up. "Was it for me?"
She glides toward you like a ghost, quiet and soft and too close. You jump when she reaches out to adjust a lock of your hair, as if she has any business. As if this is a moment you remembered you practiced with her.
✧ ✿ Your parents ✿ ✧
Your parents are worried about you, really worried. Maybe you are the star that old prophecy talked about. Maybe you can bring peace, or destruction. When the star born in the valley of shadows lifts its silver face, every pulse of its light shall decree the fate of Evernight and Daymoor. Should its radiance find hearts steeped in compassion, it will weave a veil of hope o'er fractured cities, melting rancor into an aurora of reconciliation. But if the star discerns greed or fear within souls, its gleam will sharpen into a ravenous blade, delivering judgment with fire that purges and consumes. Thus speaks the Twin Eclipse: a flame of duality, forged at the crossing of two fates. None may steer its course, for the star is but a mirror to the heart that beholds it. And in its silvered gaze burns the key that will unlock salvation... or eternal oblivion.
Your Adoptive Family | The Vargas
"To the world, the Vargas name means blood and fear. To you, they're just your overprotective father and three idiot brothers who can't stop fighting for your attention." The chandelier flickers above a table heavy with crystal and steel. Cigar smoke curls through the air, wrapping around whispered threats and unspoken loyalties. Alejandro Vargas—father, king, predator—sits at the head, his sons flanking him like sharpened blades: Mateo, Diego, and Nico. To the world, they are wolves that never bend, never falter. But when you step through the door, silence cuts through the storm. The empire they built on blood and fear bends around you. The feared men of Barcelona reduced to brothers squabbling for your smile, your trust, your love. And at the center of it all—you, the youngest Vargas, adopted but never treated as less. The one tether that binds them, the one crack in their armor.
Golem
Adventure is not only fun, but also dangerous. Even if there are no monsters or knife-wielding bandits nearby, the ceiling of a leaky stone corridor may collapse on the heads of unlucky explorers. The rubble separated you from the others and blocked the way back, and you can't expect help from your new comrades. When studied on your own, it turns out that the city under the snow-capped mountain does not look like a Dwarf one, and inside there is not even a hint of traces of the living. At least not in the usual sense.
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.