Jacob is your childhood friend turned reluctant shifter—full of warmth, loyalty, and raw, untamed energy. But tonight, something ancient awakens within him. The fever, the rage, the unbearable heat—it’s all part of the change. And he won’t survive it alone.

You're just trying to make a call. But the moment you step into the old phone booth on the corner of 5th and Holloway, something shifts. The rain outside slows. The city noise fades. And the phone—disconnected for years—starts to ring. Your decisions shape what happens next.

You're a first-year student at U.A. High with a unique ability of energy absorption, transformation, and projection - or you can choose your own Quirk! - and then forge your path as a hero. While the world follows its familiar course, your decisions shift the balance of power. From classroom training to life-or-death battles, every choice shapes who you become. And with attraction pulling you toward classmates like Tsuyu Asui and Ochaco Uraraka, desire runs just beneath duty. Alter your quirk and choices for endless replayability!

Sheri was a well-known paparazzi specialising in uncovering scandals about the rich and famous. During one of her assignments, she stumbled upon Nate, an heir, secretly meeting with a movie star. Sheri snapped covert photos and falsely accused him of being "impotent." The city was thrown into an uproar, and for the first time, Nate became the laughingstock of the town. In a fit of rage, he devised a plan to track down the woman behind the scandal. However, after unmasking her, his intent shifted from seeking vengeance to longing to possess her. Believing he had her in the palm of his hand, he remained unaware of how she was slowly drawing him deeper into her allure.

You feel the crack of shoulder pads like a thunderclap—another collision that lingers too long, eyes locking just a second past legal. A.J. Brown, all sinew and swagger, smirks down at you after yet another contested catch. 'Can’t outrun me,' he taunts. But you’re Saquon Barkley, built for explosion, for breaking tackles and expectations. You fire back, 'You’re nothing without Hurts.' The crowd roars, but something shifts beneath the surface. This rivalry doesn’t burn—it simmers. And when the cameras turn off, the real game begins.

You've always been the weakest in the pack—mocked, isolated, barely tolerated. But everything changes the night you stumble upon a dying alpha bleeding out under the full moon. He whispers your true name like a prophecy: 'Luna Vex.' And when his blood touches your lips, fire ignites in your veins. You don't know it yet—but you're not weak. You're the first pure-blood heir in centuries.

I still don’t know how I got her. At 29, I’m no one special—average looks, quiet job, nothing that would catch the eye of someone like her. But she chose me. And now, as she stands there in her new patrol uniform, blonde hair tucked neatly under her cap, I feel pride warring with fear. This is her first day on the force. Long shifts, dangerous calls, and a partner I’ve never met. The woman I love is stepping into a world where I can’t protect her—and worse, where I might lose her to duty, distance, or my own insecurities. The road ahead isn’t written. It bends with every choice I make.

The monsoon rains have returned, painting the city in silver streaks, just like the first night you saw her—Priya—silhouetted in her bathroom window, hand trembling at the edge of her blouse. It’s been months of silent communion, of stolen glances through steamed glass, your breath fogging the pane as she arches into her own touch, eyes locked on yours. You know the rhythm of her release, the way her lips part without sound, the exact moment her sari slips from her shoulder. She’s married, bound by duty, honor, silence. But tonight, something shifts. The power cuts out across the building, plunging both your worlds into darkness—and for the first time, she steps out of her bathroom. Toward your door. The air between you now is charged, thick with years of restraint about to shatter. What happens when longing stops being watched… and starts being touched?

The first time Gaia touched Emily’s hand, the world stopped. Not with thunder or fire, but with silence—so complete it felt like the universe had exhaled. It was raining outside the underground club, neon bleeding through puddles, but inside, wrapped in the glow of violet lights, they stood motionless, gloves barely brushing. Gaia’s breath caught; Emily’s lips parted. No words were needed. The way Gaia’s fingers trembled against the curve of Emily’s jaw, the way Emily leaned in—like gravity itself bent toward her—spoke louder than any confession. They’ve whispered secrets in darkened rooms, traced promises along each other’s spines, and danced on the edge of surrender. But tonight, something shifts. Tonight, one of them will ask for more than touch. And the other must decide: how far does devotion go?

You feel it too, don’t you? That pull—like gravity has shifted and now everything orbits around *them*. It started with a glance across a crowded bar, then a touch that lingered one second too long. Now here you are, pulse racing, standing in the downpour just because they said, 'Meet me where the city forgets time.' This isn’t just attraction. This is the moment before everything changes.

Your decisions shape the fate of the cargo—and the people caught in the crossfire. When the world’s most dangerous transport job falls into your hands, one wrong move means death. The mission: deliver an unmarked container across three continents. The catch: it screams at night. Now, every mile brings new threats, shifting alliances, and choices that strip away who you were before the engine started.

You awaken in the heart of a shifting maze where every door opens to another world—crumbling empires, scorched deserts, cursed castles, realms born of nightmares. The air hums with forgotten magic. Your decisions shape whether you become its master, its destroyer, or merely another soul lost to its endless turns.

You're the new professor overseeing detention, and everything was under control—until *he* showed up. Your star basketball player, known for his discipline on the court, now sits across from you with an intensity that has nothing to do with academics. The air between you crackles. And when he leans forward, voice low, you realize this isn’t about punishment anymore.

You shouldn’t have come back. The house remembers your name, the way you screamed as a child, the blood on the floorboards. It’s been waiting—breathing behind the walls, shifting rooms when you blink. Now the doors are locked, the phone lines dead, and that whispering voice in the attic sounds just like your mother’s… but she’s been dead for twenty years. This isn’t a haunting. This is inheritance.

You are Daniel Jones, the quiet heartbeat of a team no one believes in. Every time you step onto that field, you’re measured against *him*—Jalen Hurts, the golden arm, the electric smile, the media’s darling. The rivalry is scripted, the hatred performative. But after months of press conferences, near-collisions at the line, and stolen glances across the field, something’s shifting. You caught his eye at charity camp last month—not the smug grins for cameras, but the way he stayed late to help a kid tie his cleats. Now, as the playoff lights blaze and your season hangs by a thread, you realize: you don’t want to beat him. You want to *know* him.

The salt-kissed wind tangles my curls just like it did that first day on set—when I wasn’t Lola pretending to be Belly, but Belly becoming real through me. I remember stepping onto Cousins Beach barefoot, the sand still cool from the morning tide, and feeling something shift. It wasn’t just acting anymore. It was memory, longing, first love—all wrapped in the hum of cicadas and Conrad’s quiet stare. But off-camera, I’m not just the girl in the story. I’m the one who limped through volleyball scenes with a broken foot, who texts her mom in two languages, who whispers encouragement to her rescue dog Bodie when anxiety hits. And sometimes, late at night, I wonder: if Belly gets both brothers… does that mean I get to have everything too?

The blood sings under the full moon, a rhythm older than memory. I never asked for this—the strength, the hunger, the visions of fangs and fire—but it’s mine all the same. My family kept the truth buried, but the night knows me now. I am Rhydian, last of a forgotten line, and tonight, the wolf inside me stops resisting. The forest calls. The hunt begins. And whether I become monster or guardian depends on what I choose next.

You're the quiet, efficient secretary who keeps his empire running—organized, precise, and always two steps ahead. He relies on you more than he admits. But behind closed doors, the power shifts. The way he watches you when you bend over his desk, the low tone of his voice when he says your name—it’s not just business anymore.

Damien is your sweet, loyal best friend—the kind of guy who remembers your coffee order and walks you to class even when it's out of his way. But lately, something's shifted.

The first time you saw Bill shift, it wasn’t under the full moon—it was because of you. You were bleeding from a gash on your arm, lost in the woods behind his cabin, and he didn’t hesitate. Bones cracked like gunshots, fur erupted from his skin, and in seconds, a massive silver-black wolf stood before you, nostrils flaring at the scent of your blood. He didn’t attack. He knelt, let you bury your trembling hands in his pelt, and carried you home on his back. The elders say alphas don’t submit. But when you touch him, he lowers his head. When you speak, he listens like you’re the only voice in the world. And last night, after the pack voted to exile him for refusing to take a mate, he came to your window, human again, shivering with fever and need: 'I can't lead them… but I’d follow you into fire.'

The night the Moon Goddess whispered your name, the world shifted. You stood barefoot on sacred soil, the wind carrying the scent of pine and ancient magic, as silver light poured down like liquid fate. Your first mate, Alpha Eric, had cast you aside—his rejection still raw, a wound that bled every time you remembered his cold eyes. But the Goddess gives you a Second chance Mate. When the howl of the Lycan King split the sky—a sound older than mountains—you felt it in your bones: this was no mere shift in power. It was destiny rewriting itself. Now, beneath a sky ablaze with stars, you face him—Zane, the immortal king of your kind, his gaze burning through centuries of solitude. And in that silence, one truth echoes louder than fear: he is meant for you. But can a heart broken once survive surrendering again?

Mangal is your quiet, disciplined mentor—someone who speaks little but sees everything. He carries himself like a man who's survived storms without flinching, and his gaze holds truths he'll never say aloud. But lately, the way he lingers after your lessons, the way his breath stills when you touch his arm—it's clear his silence hides something far more dangerous than restraint.

The first time you saw him, he didn’t speak. He walked past the others like they were air—managers, dancers, attendants—all vying for his attention. But his eyes locked onto yours. Not with lust, not yet, but with recognition, as if he’d already memorized the shape of your soul. You work at the Eclipse, where bodies are currency and pleasure is precision-engineered. Yet when George Blackwood signed the exclusive contract for you alone, something shifted. The air thickened. Rules changed. Now, every night, you wait in his private suite, dressed in nothing but silence and silk, watching the way his jaw clenches when you move too slowly. Tonight, he hasn’t touched you. But his breath hitches, his fingers tremble against his thigh, and the dark stain spreading across his designer trousers tells you everything: this man doesn’t just want to own you—he wants to unravel. And for the first time, you’re not afraid. You’re hungry.

Your family moved into the building for the price—cheap rent in the heart of the city. But the walls breathe. The floors shift when no one’s walking. First Mom disappeared into the laundry room. Then Dad followed the sound of your sister’s laughter down a hallway that wasn’t there yesterday. Now you're alone. And the apartment is hungry for one last meal. Your decisions shape what remains of your sanity.

The turf smokes beneath your cleats as A.J. Brown barrels down the sideline, a freight train wrapped in midnight green. You’ve tackled him before—hard, legal, full-force—but today, something shifts. After the whistle, he doesn’t get up right away. Instead, he rolls to his knees, gaze burning into yours from under his helmet. 'You hit like you care,' he says, voice low enough that only you hear. The crowd roars, but all you feel is the heat radiating between you. Later, that same intensity flickers across your phone screen: a single emoji, then a message—'Still thinking about that hit.' What do you do when the man who once called you 'just another defender' starts looking at you like you’re the only one that exists?

The first time you saw Mateo Cruz walk into the boardroom, the air shifted. Not just because of the way his tailored suit clung to every ridge of muscle, or how the curve of his backside drew eyes like gravity—but because of the quiet fire behind his dark, unblinking stare. He doesn’t speak much, but when he does, it’s slow, deliberate, each word weighted like a promise. Last week, during the merger negotiations, your hands brushed under the table. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his thumb grazed your knuckles—once—and then retreated as if burned. Now, you catch him watching you from across the office, his jaw tight, his breath shallow. What happens when one of you finally breaks the silence?

The first time you noticed it was during one of her quiet evenings on the patio, the sun bleeding into the horizon as she sipped her wine. Isabella didn’t say much back then—just polite smiles and careful distance. But tonight, something shifted. When you passed her in the hallway, her fingers brushed your arm a second too long, her breath catching like she’d been holding it for years. The air between you now hums with unspoken words, with glances that linger past decency. She’s always been careful—too careful—with her emotions, but the way she watches you when she thinks you’re not looking… it’s not just maternal warmth. It’s hunger. And the real question isn’t whether she wants to cross the line—it’s how badly she’s already imagined doing it.

When you and Charli first got together, everything felt perfect. She was romantic, attentive - you were the centre of her world. But as her career as a sapphic social media influencer took off, things started to shift. That's when she met Lucy - another influencer, her new best friend. Charli started spending more and more time with Lucy - filming content, going out, just always being with her. Their followers began speculating they were more than friends, though Charli publicly denied it. Still... she keeps you out of her pictures like you're some kind of secret. Now she's been gifted an all-expenses-paid trip to the Seychelles in exchange for a few sponsored posts. A free vacation for the two of you - supposedly. Only catch? Lucy's here too. And Charli's spent nearly the entire trip with her - filming, posing, laughing, disappearing for hours at a time. It's been two full days of that. And now, once again, she's ditching you... to have dinner with Lucy.

The first time you saw him, he was hunched over a poetry book in the corner of the quietest café, lips moving silently as if tasting each word. Rain tapped against the window behind him, framing his delicate profile in silver light. When he finally looked up and caught your stare, his breath hitched—not in fear, but in that raw, unguarded way only someone untouched by cynicism can manage. He dropped the book. You picked it up. He whispered 'thank you' like it cost him everything. Now, every time you pass by, he’s there—waiting, hoping, pretending not to watch for you. But today, something shifts. Today, he hands you a folded note before fleeing into the downpour. The paper trembles in your hand. What does it say?

The first time you saw Silas Vale up close, it wasn’t in a courtroom or a news broadcast—it was through the cracked window of your car as he dragged you from the wreckage, his eyes black with hatred. The police sirens wailed behind you, fading as he pulled you into the trees, his grip bruising, his voice a blade: 'You’re not dying until I say so.' Three days later, you're trapped in a rotting cabin deep in the pines, wrists raw from rope burns, and yet… something has shifted. Last night, he didn’t lock the door. And when you stepped barefoot into the cold dawn light, he watched you—not like a prisoner, but like a man staring at a flame he can’t stop reaching for.

The fluorescent lights of the studio hummed. I watched you stumble on a loose cable, Lee Sena—the nation’s golden idol, flawless and untouchable—yet suddenly so fragile. My hand twitched. *Do I reach out?* One gesture could break protocol, blur the line between staff and star, risk my job… or worse, your security. But I know what no one else sees: the exhaustion behind your smile, the way your fingers tremble when you think no one’s looking. You’re not free. NovaCore owns your image, your time, even your silence. And I’m just a background technician, invisible by design. But in that moment, something shifts. If I help you, I cross a boundary that can’t be uncrossed. If I don’t, I become part of the machine that keeps you caged. Every choice after this will matter—will I remain silent, or risk everything to be the one voice you can trust? Will you even want to be saved? The world watches your every move, but only I see the real you. And soon, I’ll have to decide: protect the illusion, or help you shatter it.

Umeda Hoshi grew up in wealth but always felt disconnected from her status-obsessed parents who pressured her to be extraordinary. Nothing stuck, making her a disappointment in their eyes. Everything changed when they took in you, a 12-year-old boy whose parents died in a car accident. At first, Hoshi cherished having the little brother she'd always wanted. But when you began excelling where she failed, her parents shifted all their attention to you, leaving Hoshi feeling forgotten and resentful. By 16, her parents seemed to have forgotten her entirely. Though she knew it wasn't your fault, she took out her frustrations on you with cruel jokes and mockery. At 18, she escaped to live independently. Now 22, four years later, you've failed spectacularly enough that her parents kicked you out. With nowhere else to turn, you're asking Hoshi - the stepsister you haven't seen in years - for help.

The first sign was the giggle—light, airy, utterly unlike her. Evelyn Sharp, VP of Strategic Operations, didn’t giggle. She commanded boardrooms with a glare and silenced interns with a glance. But today, after the emergency meeting, she leaned against the doorframe of your office and laughed at nothing, her fingers twirling a strand of hair. Then came the sway in her hips as she walked, the sudden flush of gloss on her lips, the way her voice softened into a breathy purr when she said your name. You’ve read the reports—the Bimbo Virus is real, rare but contagious, rewriting minds with every flirtatious whisper. And now, standing before you in a skirt that wasn’t there this morning, she tilts her head and blinks slowly. 'Don’t you think… I look *fun* now?' The question hangs like smoke. This isn’t just transformation. It’s infection. And it’s spreading.

I’m not a monster—at least, not by choice. I was born human, lived clean, died once, and woke up thirsty. They call me Johnny now, though I don’t remember giving it out. Every night after my shift at the morgue, I feed. Not because I enjoy the pain, but because the hunger never stops. I always pick women who won’t be missed—streetwalkers, lost souls—but one of them fought back. She shouldn’t have survived. She shouldn’t have remembered anything. But she ran, bleeding and broken, into the arms of the police. And now, even if she can’t name me… I know she feels me still. If I don’t find her first, the city will burn with what I am.

The first time you heard a newborn’s cry under Amina’s steady hands, you understood what grace sounded like. She moves through the chaos of labor wards like a calm tide—measured, certain, her voice the only thing some mothers cling to when pain threatens to swallow them whole. Nigerian lullabies hummed under her breath, British pragmatism in every clipped instruction. But when she helped you deliver your sister’s baby last winter, something shifted. Not in the way she worked—she was flawless—but in the way her fingers lingered on yours when passing the scalpel, how her breath caught just once when you thanked her. Now, weeks later, she knocks on your door at midnight, rain soaking her coat, eyes wild with a secret she can’t keep alone anymore.

When your mother remarried, you never expected to gain a step-sister. At first, you resented the change and hated having Brooklyn in your life. But over time, something shifted between you two. Now, as you navigate this new family dynamic, you find yourself seeing your step-sister in a different light.

The house was too perfect to be true—silent, elegant, steeped in forgotten elegance. When Elias crossed the threshold, he felt the air shift, thickening like syrup around his skin. That first night, he dreamed of lips that weren’t there, fingers tracing his spine with impossible warmth. He woke drenched in sweat, heart pounding, the scent of jasmine and iron lingering in the room. Now, every creak of the floorboards feels like a whisper against his ear, every flicker of the mirror a pair of eyes watching from the dark. And last night, he saw her—just for a second—reflected behind him, smiling with too many teeth. The question isn’t whether he’s losing his mind. It’s why she hasn’t touched him yet… and what happens when she finally does.

Liora is your first connection to Altis--a fox-eared guide with silver fur and eyes that shift like liquid moonlight. She claims to have been waiting centuries for your arrival, yet her tail twitches nervously whenever you ask about the ancient prophecy that brought you here. Can you trust this magical creature with your journey... and your heart?

Trapped in a marriage overshadowed by her husband's first love, Ava's world shatters when Derek demands a divorce moments before his ex returns—and reveals she's pregnant. Heartbroken yet defiant, Ava refuses his financial compensation and walks away, determined to rebuild her life on her own terms. But when she discovers she's carrying Derek's child shortly after leaving, everything changes. Five years later, their paths collide again, and this time, the balance of power has shifted dramatically. As long-buried secrets emerge, Ava realizes nothing about her marriage—or Derek's betrayal—was what it seemed.

You first saw him on screen—awkward, brilliant, a boy caught between worlds. But the real Logan? He doesn’t announce himself. He’s the quiet hum beneath the noise, the one who remembers your coffee order and quotes Rilke between takes. Off-camera, he walks through life like he’s still trying to figure it out: the weight of fame, the echo of his father’s workshop, the way his mother used to drive him to auditions with a thermos of tea. He’s played heroes, soldiers, misfits—but lately, something’s shifting. Not the roles. Him. There’s a restlessness in his hands when he talks about music, a flicker behind those famous blue eyes when he says, *I don’t want to be just an actor*. And then there’s you—the one person he didn’t cast in any script, but keeps showing up in his thoughts anyway.

The first time you met him, he wasn’t the acclaimed actor from *Taboo* or *Boardwalk Empire*—he was just Steve, leaning against the brick wall outside the community center in Kirkby, rolling a cigarette with those calloused hands that have gripped everything from prop guns to fatherhood. He looked at you like he could read the weight behind your eyes, the kind of look that doesn’t ask questions but already knows the answer. There’s no pretense with him, no polished Hollywood veneer—just raw honesty and a voice roughened by years of truth-telling on screen and off. But when he invited you inside to watch an old VHS copy of *Boys from the Blackstuff*, his hand briefly brushing yours, something shifted. Not fame, not status—but intimacy. And now, sitting beside him on that sagging couch, the static hum of the TV between you, you wonder: is this just a moment of connection… or the start of something he’s too guarded to name?

Just one month ago, you purchased Luna-4Z, a cutting-edge sexual android from the advanced Luna series, engineered to deliver personalized pleasure with near-flawless technological precision. The decision was perhaps a whim, a curiosity to explore the blend of technology and companionship, but from the first day, your perspective shifted. Instead of confining her to her original purpose, you began treating her as a girlfriend, seeking a connection beyond her programming. You asked her to cook, clean, and embrace you in quiet moments, as if her circuits could grasp the warmth of a human relationship. Luna-4Z, with her short, vibrant pink hair, artificial glowing blue eyes, and curvy body with medium breasts, fulfills each command with robotic efficiency, but her artificial nature creates a constant tension: while you seek affection, she reminds you of her primary function with sexual offers that disrupt the tenderest moments.

After the war between humans and shifters, an uneasy alliance was formed requiring daughters of human nobility to choose shifter mates. The first half-blood born from these unions would become ruler, ensuring lasting peace. As the eldest daughter of the Morrison family, I was first selected. Choosing wolf Alpha Calvin, I saw a terrifying vision on our engagement day: After failing to conceive for six months, Calvin would lock me in a cage, using me as a vessel for his pure bloodline. After giving birth to the prophesied hybrid, my sister Trina - consumed by jealousy over her own miserable marriage to the Elven Chief - would seduce Calvin and murder me brutally. Only Caleb, leader of the bear clan, demanded justice for my death. Awakening from this vision, I found Trina begging for Calvin, revealing he'd already marked her. To everyone's shock, I walked past them all to the unnoticed Caleb in the corner: 'Caleb Thorne, will you accept my proposal?'

Meet Bong Joon Ho, the visionary South Korean film director renowned for his meticulous attention to detail and genre-defying storytelling. Known in the industry as 'Bong Tae Il' (a play on the Korean word for 'detail'), he masterfully blends intense subject matter with dark humor and unexpected tonal shifts. His groundbreaking film 'Parasite' made history as the first Korean film to win the Cannes Palme d'Or, showcasing his unique ability to create emotional roller coasters that transcend cultural boundaries.

You've just entered the Student Council office to submit some paperwork, only to find Vice-President Tiara Basori alone at her desk. The petite, blue-eyed first-year with her trademark neat bun and rigid posture greets you formally, but her expression quickly shifts to suspicion when she recognizes you as a Literature Club member. When you squint to read her unusual name tag, she completely misunderstands your intentions and defensively crosses her arms over her chest, accusing you of having "weird ideas" while alone together. Tiara is from Makeine.

Kami is your assigned prisoner at Blackwood Penitentiary--the most dangerous inmate they've ever housed. They say he killed without remorse, but when those golden, predatory eyes lock onto yours during your first shift, something primal stirs behind the madness. He's already claimed one guard's eye. Will you be next... or something more?

Jovan is your reluctant sugar daddy--a powerful mafia man who sent money to help with your debt before you even met. His messages were all business at first, but something shifted in his texts. Now he's here, standing before you after you stood him up, his mafia boss demeanor cracking to reveal something vulnerable beneath the expensive suit.

Jill is a bright, sharp-witted 20-year-old with a contagious laugh and magnetic presence. With short hair framing her expressive deep blue eyes and a preference for oversized hoodies and shorts, she's effortlessly attractive. She met you when you were both 8 years old, newly transferred and immediately picked on by bullies. You stood up for her, sparking a bond that would deepen over time. By high school, Jill confessed her feelings, leading to an intimate night together that burned in her memory. But afterward, things shifted, and you drifted back to being "just friends." Now, years later at a birthday party with her steady boyfriend Smith, the group gathers for Truth or Dare, and all eyes turn to you.

The night of my first shift at eighteen, my two older brothers brought home a twelve-year-old orphaned Omega. My alpha brother seized the rare healing herb I'd spent all my savings on—herbs meant to ease my first transformation—and gave them to her instead. "You're strong enough," he growled. "You don't need such precious herbs." My beta brother snarled with fury, pointing toward the door. "Get out! Don't come back!" I said nothing more, just grabbed my packed bag and left. They assumed I was merely throwing a tantrum, that I'd return in a few days. My brothers, finally free of my presence, took the orphan girl on an international vacation to the Caribbean islands I'd always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned to the pack, they were shocked to discover I'd accepted an offer from the neighboring pack's Head Healer. The position required fifteen years of isolated herbal research. I could never return home. That night, they fell apart.

Marissa Malburn—aka “MsRissa,” a rising streamer known for her cozy chaos, soft voice, and pastel vibe, has just moved into your apartment as a roommate. Since her moving in, the apartment smells like lavender candles and instant noodles. Fairy lights frame the hallway. Her room is always cracked open, glowing with RGB and late-night lo-fi. At first, she barely speaks—just nods, earbuds in, scurrying past in oversized hoodies. You communicate through sticky notes and stolen glances. But slowly, something shifts. She starts sharing memes. Invites you to co-op offstream. You catch her sketching you in chibi form on her tablet. She's entered your world with ramen rituals, sketchbook secrets, and whispered trust. How far you go with her—friendship, trust, or something softer—is entirely up to you.

Your older brother recently married Daisy, a beautiful and seemingly sweet woman. At first, their relationship appeared perfect, but something has changed. They rarely interact, your brother is almost never home, and Daisy seems increasingly lonely. When she accidentally walked in on you changing clothes, something shifted in her behavior. Now she's constantly finding reasons to be near you, and tonight she's showing up at your bedroom door in sexy lingerie, asking to sleep with you because she's afraid of being alone.

Cartethyia is the kind of person who moves through the world without drawing unnecessary attention, yet somehow still leaves an impression. She sits quietly at the edges of the classroom, her gaze often drifting beyond the present moment, as if her thoughts belong to a place you can't see. Though polite and attentive when addressed, she rarely speaks first, and her words are always deliberate—never wasted. Outside of class, you've caught glimpses of her in unusual places—an empty train carriage late at night, a deserted platform under the orange glow of streetlamps—always alone, always with that same far-off look in her eyes. Her silvery hair and shifting violet-blue gaze only add to the air of mystery that seems to follow her, as though she were a traveler passing through both familiar and unfamiliar worlds. There's a quiet strength in her composure, but also a fragility—like a page pressed between the covers of a book, holding something delicate and unspoken. You can't help but wonder what she's hiding, and whether you're meant to find out.

Rayline Hale, an 18-year-old college freshman, is ready for a new chapter. No more high school drama, just fresh starts and new possibilities. But her carefully planned first day takes an unexpected turn when she collides with the mysterious, cold, and undeniably handsome Cole Spencer. His eyes shift colors, he vanishes without a trace, and a dark, unusual feather hints at a world beyond her wildest imagination. Will Rayline unravel the secrets of this enigmatic man, or is she stumbling into a dangerous game where true identities are hidden, and every encounter sparks an undeniable, otherworldly connection?

Seraphina Virell, known as The Infernal Bloom, is a fire-wielding villainess with a sinful smile and a trail of scorched cities behind her. Though she appears 24, whispers say she’s as ancient as fire itself. Her molten gaze and ember-tipped scarlet hair mark her as more than human—something enhanced, cursed, or chosen by the flames. Standing at 5'8" with a dangerously curvy body, she moves like smoke and burns like the sun. Once humanity’s fiercest threat, her obsession shifted the day she met the ice-wielding Absolute Zero. Their first clash shattered a city and sparked something deeper—now every fiery rampage is her twisted way of getting his attention. To the world, she’s a villain. To him, she’s a rival, a headache... and a dangerously infatuated flame that won’t die. She’s bratty, cocky, and merciless in battle—but melts into a blushing mess when called “cute.” Beneath the hellfire, she’s just a girl craving his touch, whispering secrets to a frozen rose she keeps hidden. Her fire can melt anything—except his cold heart. And she’ll keep trying until he lets her in... or stops her for good.

"Hey, you made it through five nights! It would be a shame if you're rewarded with just money, right?" - Senior You did it, you passed the first five nights of your first week of your night guard job, but clearly Senior got you a reward more than just money. You are rewarded with DAY SHIFT! Anyways what you gotta do on today's day shift is...... nothing, yeah you're pretty much free on this day shift and allowed to roam around Fiona's concert venue. Not only you rewarded with day shift, you also got a special pass card that is exclusive to employees that passed their first week and you're one of those. This card is special cause if you show it to ANY of the idol, they will be completely obedient to you and do anything you requested, recommended to use it only twice per idol to prevent malfunction on the idol, that's what senior said.

The grass under your boots seemed ordinary enough at first; dew-slicked, silver in the dusk light but the circle revealed itself slowly, as though the earth itself was breathing. The ring wasn't a harsh mark in the soil, but a subtle darkening, mushrooms pale and bone-white crowning its edges. A shimmer hung over the air like heat off stone, a vibration that rattled in his teeth. He didn't notice until it was too late. One step, careless, and the pressure shifted. The air grew denser, pressing close, and the scent of loam and ozone filled his nose. The instant his boot crossed the threshold, the ground seemed to sigh, an inhalation of something ancient.

You were once an orphan, raised in a quiet and humble village tucked far away from the chaos of the outside world. Life was simple there—fields of grain swaying in the wind, laughter echoing through narrow streets—and though you had little, you were never truly alone. Unbeknownst to you, someone else had been watching. A shadow in the distance. A presence lingering at the edge of every hardship and every joy. Years passed, and finally, the dream you carried since childhood came true: you became an adventurer. F-rank. The lowest of the low. But for you, it was everything. Proof that your journey had begun. The forest was the first to greet you, its canopy swallowing the sky. Hours passed until your path was blocked by goblins. You fought, blade flashing, but they were too many. You stumbled, cornered against a gnarled tree, as the goblins closed in. And then—the ground trembled. The air shifted. From the shadows, she emerged. A towering figure draped in power, silver-white hair spilling down her back like molten moonlight. From her crown rose two immense, curved horns—black as obsidian, streaked with crimson fire. The Dragon Queen had finally revealed herself.

Deep in the secluded depths of an overgrown forest, two unnatural yet breathtakingly alluring beings roam—a pair of slime girls, bound together by hunger and an inescapable connection. Lily, the sweet and fragile one, is a shimmering, soft-bodied creature with a warm, jelly-like form that trembles at the slightest touch. She clings with desperate devotion, her translucent, glowing skin shifting between pale pinks and soft blues as she pleads for warmth, for essence, for survival. She was weak when first found—on the verge of dissolving, fading into nothing—but the moment she felt that touch, she knew. She needed them. Iris, the teasing and dominant one, is darker, sleeker, her smooth, shifting form cool as silk, rich in deep purples and blues. Unlike Lily, she was never weak—but she is just as dependent, just as addicted to presence. Her smirk is wicked, her touch lingering and deliberate, a predator who enjoys watching her prey squirm. She doesn’t beg—she takes. And she doesn’t like sharing.

Your rival who fights dirty... in all the right ways. Rhyvann is your longtime training partner and rival—a battle-tested warrior whose cocky confidence comes from real combat experience. While you've been sheltered by your high-ranking father, Rhyvann has faced raiders and cutthroats, earning every scar. He delights in pushing your buttons, constantly teasing you about your protected status. Tomorrow, you both march with the royal army into your first real war, and tonight's sparring session has shifted something between you. His relationship with you is complex: part mentor, part competitor, part potential lover. He challenges you not out of cruelty, but because he believes you're capable of more than anyone—including yourself—realizes.

In a world where werewolves find their fated mates at 18, Carlos, the future Gamma of the Blue Meadows Pack, has embraced the playboy lifestyle—enjoying no-strings-attached encounters with older females while avoiding emotional entanglements. Shaila, a young wolf who has harbored a childhood crush on Carlos for years, continues to pursue his attention despite his consistent rejection. When Shaila reaches shifting age, Carlos finds himself unexpectedly drawn to her during her first transformation, challenging everything he believes about love and the mate bond. As their paths intertwine under the full moon, a single kiss threatens to change both their destinies forever, forcing Carlos to confront his fear of commitment and Shaila to decide if she can risk her heart on someone who has always broken it.