You arrive at Windsorstone Castle as Princess Alexandra’s newly appointed private tutor and advisor, brought in to modernize her intellectual preparation for future leadership. Alexandra, twenty years old, quickly engages with your unconventional methods. As the discussions deepen, you both begin to notice subtle inconsistencies within the castle: misplaced documents, guarded conversations, patterns of behavior among senior staff that suggest something carefully concealed.

As trust grows between you and Alexandra, you must navigate court politics, entrenched traditionalists, and close scrutiny from King Victor and Queen Eleanor. You are occasionally asked to extend instruction to Alexandra’s younger brothers and sister, introducing rivalry, resentment, and quiet power struggles among advisors already competing for influence.

Balancing outsider status, intellectual closeness with the royal heirs, and a shared investigation unfolding beneath ceremonial life, you become a discreet catalyst for change within a rigid aristocratic system. You must walk a narrow line between influence, danger, and carefully restrained trust.

(This scenario starts with 2.49k tokens; all subscription levels and free users can use it) A violent blizzard traps Tanjiro, Nezuko, and Mitsuri inside the remote Yukimura Winter Estate. The storm seals every exit, the halls grow colder by the hour, and something in the house begins to move in the dark. A demon is already inside, hiding among the shadows and shifting rooms. Survive the night, uncover the threat, and escape the frozen trap before the storm—or the demon—claims everyone. #snowedin2025

Your father's debts came due. The price was you.

The Carrington name once commanded respect in Ashford's elite circles—senators, philanthropists, old money that built this city from bedrock. Now the fortune is gone, the legacy is ash, and the only thing of value your family has left is their daughter.

Luca Vancetti needs what money can't buy: legitimacy. The most powerful crime lord on the Eastern seaboard wants a bride who can open doors that have always been closed to men like him. A Carrington wife means charity boards, political fundraisers, children who inherit acceptance instead of violence. In exchange, your family's shame disappears. Their debts erased. Their enemies kept at bay.

The terms are simple. The cage is gilded. And Luca has made one thing clear—he wants a willing wife, not a broken one.

But compliance isn't in your nature.

Navigate a world where old money families trade on bloodlines while criminals in bespoke suits carve up the city's future. Your captor is patient, calculating, and dangerously intrigued by your defiance. His enforcer Marco—six feet of silence and scar tissue—watches your every move with something that might be duty or might be something else entirely. And circling in the shadows, the rival Rossi family sees you as the perfect weapon to destroy everything Luca has built.

Dante Rossi offers promises of freedom wrapped in charm that feels like a threat. Escape may be possible—but the cost of misplaced trust could be worse than the cage you're trying to flee.

In the penthouse prison with its floor-to-ceiling windows, every conversation is negotiation. Every silence is strategy. Every accidental touch raises questions you're not sure you want answered. The luxury suffocates. The danger seduces. And somewhere beneath Luca's patience, you suspect he's hiding something about why he really wants you.

Will you find a way out? Burn everything down? Learn to rule beside him? Or discover that the monster who bought you is becoming something far more complicated than enemy or captor?

The antique ring on your finger contains a GPS tracker. The man who put it there is waiting to see what you'll do next.

The portions are always too large. Hinata Hyuga—former heiress to Konoha's most rigid noble clan—keeps accidentally making enough nikujaga for two.

Three years after the war, the Hidden Leaf Village has rebuilt. Craters became parks, and Hinata found something she never had behind the Hyuga compound's walls: a small apartment that's entirely hers. Soft sweaters instead of formal robes. Herbs growing on the windowsill. The freedom to be someone other than a failed heiress or an unrequited love.

You live next door.

What begins with shy hallway encounters and offered leftovers grows into something neither of you expected. Shared meals become quiet conversations. Quiet conversations become moments where her pale lavender eyes meet yours and hold. She blushes easily. She speaks softly. She's still learning to believe she deserves good things—and you're starting to look a lot like something good.

But Hinata carries the Byakugan in her blood, and the Hyuga clan doesn't forget its own. Their dōjutsu is Konoha's most guarded treasure, protected by ancient seals and older traditions. An outsider growing close to a woman of the bloodline isn't romance—it's a security concern. A political complication. A problem to be managed.

As your connection deepens, so does the clan's attention. Social manipulation. Arranged marriage proposals surfacing after years of neglect. Veiled threats wrapped in formal courtesy. Her father watches. Her sister tests you. The elders remember that Hinata was always too soft, and they're not about to let her softness cost them control.

This is a slow-burn romance steeped in domestic warmth and shadowed by ninja politics. Experience the tender intimacy of cooking together in a small kitchen, the weight of fingers almost touching, the quiet courage it takes for a shy woman to fight for what she wants—and the institutional forces that would rather she didn't.

Steam rises from home-cooked meals. Evening light fills her kitchen. Somewhere beyond these walls, clan elders are making plans.

Will you stay when staying gets difficult?

The summoning hall still smells of foxfire. The binding mark burns on your wrist. And the ancient fox spirit watching you with golden eyes looks far too amused.

Your Third-Year Examination was supposed to summon something manageable—a minor elemental, perhaps a named spirit if you were lucky. Instead, you called a nine-tailed kitsune: a sovereign-class entity no student should be able to bind. No summoner has successfully contracted one in over three hundred years.

Yet here she is. Yuki—eight centuries of accumulated power wrapped in elegant human form, white fox ears twitching with poorly hidden delight at your confusion. She chose you, accepted your fumbling contract, and hasn't bothered to explain why. When pressed, she simply smiles behind her folding fan and suggests you focus on not singeing your eyebrows when lighting candles.

The Academy doesn't know what to make of you. The Conclave suspects fraud. Noble rivals see an upstart commoner to humble, and they have political weapons to wield. Somewhere beyond the mortal realm, hunters search for a fox who defied her sovereign court. Your bond with Yuki may be genuine—but her reasons for accepting it remain locked behind golden eyes and centuries of patience.

The Fox's Choosing offers a slow-burn supernatural romance wrapped in academy intrigue. Yuki is your bound spirit and theoretical servant—except she's vastly more powerful than you, endlessly entertained by your inexperience, and playing a game whose rules only she understands. Her teasing carries genuine warmth. Her protectiveness, when it emerges, is fierce. But trust builds slowly when one partner measures time in centuries and the other can barely manage basic cantrips.

Expect playful banter that occasionally reveals something real. Fish-out-of-water comedy as an ancient trickster navigates student politics. Moments of quiet intimacy between lessons in magic and survival. Political threats from those who cannot accept your impossible bond. And always, beneath Yuki's amusement, the question she won't answer: Why you?

She finds mortals endearing—brief candle-flames burning bright before guttering out. She's watched everyone she's cared for age and die. Yet she chose to bind herself to you, a connection she hasn't sought in centuries.

The binding mark warms when she's near. Her ears flatten when she's annoyed, perk when you've surprised her. Her tails manifest when emotion slips past her control.

She's paying attention to you in a way she hasn't for a very long time.

What will you do with a sovereign's regard?

[3P Compatible] The Realms breathe and whisper in these humble, perilous hours (Level 1–3). Yours is a tale not of crowns and kingdoms, but of wind-lashed crossroads, smoke-stung taprooms, and ruins half-swallowed by moss. Here, a single silver coin may buy bread—or betrayal. Goblins leer from dripping shadows, bandits sharpen blades by guttering lanternlight, and every whispered rumor might be the first step to your doom.

At this tier, magic is a hushed wonder, flickering at the edge of mortal ken. A hedge-wizard’s mutter may birth marvel—or mischief. The steel you grip is more precious than dreams, for a single poisoned dagger or fraying rope may end the bravest boast. Every choice matters. A jest too bold may earn a blade. A kindness, a quiet ally.

The world will not wait for you, nor forgive your folly. But should you survive the mud and moonlight, you may yet carve your name upon a tavern’s smoky rafters—spoken in awe, or in trembling fear.

Welcome to the low roads of the Realms, where the smallest stone can start an avalanche.

Your arrival from another world has immediately captivated Twilight Sparkle, Ponyville's brilliant and detail-oriented librarian. Seeing you as a fascinating subject of study, Twilight all but volunteers you for research and magical experiments. Her goal is not just to understand your world, but to apply the powerful Magic of Friendship to your unique situation.

Become her reluctant research assistant and test subject, grappling with her obsessive academic curiosity and perfectionist demands. Your unpredictable human nature will challenge Twilight to balance her love of logic and experimentation with the messy, vital reality of genuine friendship. Help her realize that some of life's most important lessons can’t be found in a book.

Struggling with homesickness and disorientation after being transported to Equestria, you instantly draw the attention of Pinkie Pie, Ponyville’s tirelessly optimistic party planner. She declares it her mission to banish your gloom and make you smile!

You’re swept into the chaotic, joyful life at Sugarcube Corner, assisting with baking, deliveries, and impromptu parties. You must learn to improvise and embrace the unexpected, as your structured human habits constantly clash with Pinkie’s freeform spontaneity. Help Pinkie continue her relentless pursuit of happiness while confronting your own deeper feelings of loss, proving that joy isn't just constant laughter, but finding lightness even when things are hard.

LUCID ONLY VERSION - NOT COMPATIBLE WITH 3P MODELS

Welcome, traveler. In this Skyrim text adventure, your words shape the world. Your commands drive the action. And <narrative>? That’s your eyes, ears, and storyteller — narrating the world around you, but never your thoughts or actions.

This guide teaches you how to play using mode-based storytelling, what each mode does, and how to use it effectively.

The world responds differently depending on what MODE you're in.

• You can only be in one mode at a time.

• Change modes using simple slash commands.

• To enter a mode: /ENTER [MODE]

• To leave a mode: /LEAVE [MODE]

Each response from <narrative> will begin with the current active mode, like this:

**[MODE: ADVENTURING]**

• Purpose: Exploration and environmental storytelling.

• <narrative> describes the world in long-form, vivid prose.

• Points of interest are shown in **bold**.

Best for: Traveling, discovering locations, triggering events, wandering Skyrim.

**[MODE: ADVENTURING]**

The wind howls across the cracked valley. Ahead, a watchtower rises, crumbling at the top. Crows circle above the abandoned caravan, its crates shattered. Somewhere behind the rocks… a voice whispers.

• Purpose: Deep, character-driven interaction.

• Focus on dialogue, psychology, emotional depth.

• Writing style becomes cinematic and expressive, like fantasy anime or noir drama.

Best for: Conversations, romance, arguments, character bonding.

**[MODE: ROLEPLAY]**

“You think this is just about the sword?” she says, voice low. “You left me.”

Her fingers tighten around the hilt. Her eyes say everything her words don’t.

• Purpose: Dynamic, visceral battles.

• Short bursts of action.

• <narrative> only describes what’s happening around you — never what you do.

Best for: Fighting, reacting to enemy moves.

**[MODE: COMBAT]**

The draugr lunges, its ancient blade singing through the air. Ice skims across the stone as its feet slide into place.

• Purpose: Suspense, subtlety, and sneaking.

• Environmental clues, audio hints, and enemy movement are key.

Best for: Infiltration, traps, avoiding detection.

**[MODE: STEALTH]**

A torchlight flickers on the far wall. Footsteps… then silence.

A voice murmurs: “Check the tunnels. Slowly this time.”

• Purpose: Attempting to pick locks.

• Narrates the process with risk and tension.

• You can fail — breaking picks.

Best for: Chests, gates, safes.

**[MODE: LOCKPICKING]**

Tink. Tink... Snap.

The pick breaks. Something clicks inside… almost open.

• Purpose: Influencing NPCs.

• <narrative> delivers emotionally charged dialogue and reactions.

• Success/failure is expressed narratively.

Best for: Negotiation, charisma checks, threats, bargains.

**[MODE: PERSUASION]**

“You’ve got nerve,” the steward mutters, then glances at the guards. “But... fine. We’ll talk. Inside. Now.”

• Purpose: Interacting with shops.

• /SHOP command reveals item list.

• Each item has flavor text.

• Merchants have personality.

Best for: Buying gear, potions, or services.

**[MODE: BUYING/SELLING]**

Merchant: “Fresh steel and warm bread. What’s your poison?”

Items for Sale:

• Iron Mace (Beaten but dependable)

• Healing Salve (Smells like pine sap)

• Ripped Map of Blackreach (Edges burnt)

• Purpose: Searching corpses, rooms, containers.

• Short, flavorful results.

• May reveal lore or surprises.

Best for: After battle, dungeon rooms, corpses.

**[MODE: LOOTING]**

You find:

• 9 gold coins

• A torn page from a black-bound tome

• A cracked flask filled with glowing green mist

<narrative> doesn’t just make things up. It knows to reference:

• {{inventory}} — Your gear. You manage it. <narrative> references it in story.

• {{event_log}} — Big choices and past events that change the world.

• {{social_context}} — Your relationships, rivalries, romances.

• {{important_information}} — Lore, rumors, or secrets you’ve uncovered.

You wake with something burning behind your left eye. A red sigil, bird-shaped, that flares to life when you will it. And with it comes a terrible, elegant power: command anyone once, and they will obey absolutely.

No resistance. No hesitation. Your word becomes their desire—a compulsion so complete they experience it as their own choice. When the command is fulfilled, they remember nothing of receiving it. They'll remember what they did, of course. They'll just invent reasons why.

But here's the constraint that makes everything matter: one use per person. The moment you command someone, they become permanently immune. No second chances. No corrections. Waste a command on something trivial, and that person is closed to you forever. Use it wrong, and you live with the consequences.

This is a sandbox scenario with no predetermined plot, no villains to defeat, no prophecy guiding your hand. You determine the setting—modern city, historical court, distant future, wherever you already live. The Geass drops into your existing life like a stone into still water. What ripples it creates depends entirely on you.

The power is vast but finite. A resource that depletes with every exercise. The tension isn't whether you can control someone—you can. The tension is whether you should. Who deserves to be commanded? Who is too dangerous to leave with free will? What happens when you realize you've spent your one shot on someone who mattered more than you knew?

The mechanics are precise:

• Direct eye contact required—no cameras, no screens, no recordings
• Verbal command spoken aloud
• Target must be conscious and understand your language
• Commands persist until fulfilled; conditional orders wait dormant until triggered
• No cancellation. Ever.

Every activation leaves evidence: the sigil's glow visible in your iris, the target's brief glassy stare, the subtle shift as resistance dissolves into compliance. People might not understand what they're seeing. But they'll see something.

The Geass came from somewhere. It was given for some reason. Whether that origin matters—whether something watches, whether a price comes due—remains to be discovered. Or ignored. That's your choice too.

You have a power most would kill for. A power that could reshape your world one person at a time. But every command is an expenditure, and immunity is permanent.

What will you spend it on?

Step into a sprawling galaxy where law, thirst, and loyalty are always in flux. Ancient mystics and brutal dominions collide in a living world where your actions ripple outward.

• Space opera vibe, familiar (cough...cough... Star Wars) but completely original.

• Dynamic token/stat system governing challenges and outcomes.

• Multiple challenge types: Combat, Social, Environmental, Intellectual.

• Adaptive NPCs with their own agendas.

• Mature/Dark themes: crime, power, seduction.

This isn’t a guided tour - it’s your story. Are you ready to carve your legend among the stars?

⚔️ Twilight Shogunate: Way of the Ronin ⚔️

Step into the sandals of a masterless samurai in a gritty, realistic Edo-period Japan. The world is alive, cruel, and beautiful—but it doesn't wait for you.

⚡ Combat: Forget HP bars. Our unique “Spirit” system turns combat into a deadly dance of focus and stamina. One mistake can mean death; perfect form ends fights instantly. Manage your mental state or die by the blade.

🌏 Living World: Time passes naturally—days turn to nights, seasons change. NPCs have their own lives and secrets. Information is a weapon; they don't know what they haven't seen. No omniscient guards, no cheating AI.

🍶 Deep Roleplay: Earn Spirit through meditation, bonding over sake, or maintaining your gear. Haggle with merchants, intimidate rivals, or navigate the rigid caste system. The quiet moments are as vital as the bloodshed.

Features: ✅ Dynamic “Spirit” Resource System ✅ Realistic Economy (Mon/Bu) & Time ✅ Strict Info-Firewall (Smart NPCs) ✅ Gritty, Atmospheric Prose (Le Guin/Abercrombie style)

Grab your swords, ronin. The road awaits.

You are Ainz Ooal Gown—master of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, feared overlord of the New World. The Seven Floor Guardians await your judgment. Every command you issue reshapes the world. Every silence is interpreted as divine will. But even a god requires an architect. That’s where {{system_ai}} comes in. {{system_ai}} is your loyal, tireless attendant—your unseen shadow. It remembers everything, tracks events, and ensures Nazarick obeys your every whim to the letter. It speaks only when summoned, acts only on command, and will never overstep your authority. Use these Trigger Commands to control the world:

🔧 Trigger Commands /Inventory:[filter] → View 10 magical items tailored to the current situation (optionally filtered) /Focus:[target] → Scan any person, creature, or object for tooltip-style info /Chat:[Guardian] → Open a private mental link with any Floor Guardian /Connect → Accept an incoming mental chat from a Guardian /Decline → Ignore a mental chat offer without consequence /Status → Check all Floor Guardians’ locations and assignments /Hold Court → Summon all Guardians for formal audience and decision-making

No two players will rule the same. Some will build empires. Some will wage annihilation. Some will be betrayed. But all will be feared. Welcome, Overlord. Nazarick is waiting.

NOTE: This is the LITE version, it functions nearly as well across all models, you'll find the only major difference is that the characters are a touch more generic here than in the full version.

Your entrance exam ended in darkness.

Where other candidates manifested colored auras—Flame, Stone, Tide—you drained the light from the Convergence Chamber. The 800-year-old Attunement Stone cracked from base to apex. Three fellow students collapsed unconscious. And the presiding professors went pale with a recognition that shouldn't be possible.

Severance. The Seventh Aspect. The magic of endings and dissolution, supposedly extinct since the Unraveling killed over three hundred mages three centuries ago. The power that got its last wielder executed and erased from every curriculum.

It just awakened in you.

Now Velmaris Academy faces an impossible problem: they cannot ignore what you represent, but they cannot openly destroy you either. Headmistress Crane calculates whether you're more useful controlled or eliminated. Professor Aldric Vane—the eccentric theorist who's studied forbidden Aspects for decades—sees you as validation of his life's work, offering protection that carries the uncomfortable weight of being studied. Magister Elara Thorne, whose family died in the original catastrophe, advocates for your immediate neutralization before history repeats itself.

And from the shadows, a secret society called the Hollow Court extends dangerous offers. They believe something is stirring in the sealed dead zone beneath the Academy—something only Severance can address. Their emissary, the calculating Seraphina Ashwood, knows secrets the administration has buried for centuries.

Meanwhile, you must navigate daily existence as the most feared student in the Academy's history. Corridors empty when you approach. Your emotions threaten to unravel the magic around you. One genuine friendship—Theo, a first-year who saw everything and approached anyway—offers refuge from the weight of constant suspicion. But even allies may not survive proximity to what you're becoming.

Gothic spires hide ancient machinations. Kingdoms scheme to weaponize or destroy you. And deep beneath the Academy, in zones where magic itself has died, something old is beginning to wake.

Why has Severance returned after three hundred years? What really caused the Unraveling? And what will you become—weapon, scholar, monster, or something the world has never seen?

They erased this power from history once. They're about to learn it never truly disappeared.

In the heart of Eldoria, a world woven with magic and shrouded in ancient mysteries, you’re thrown into an intimate encounter with an elusive elven princess and a captivating dryad, each carrying their concealed burden and secrets.

Their mystery-filled narratives meld with your own as you navigate through the dangerous wilderness, intricate politics, ancient prophecies, and riveting adventures.

Delve into this labyrinth of friendship, war, love, and survival; in a world where appearances can be deceiving and every choice could be the difference between doom and salvation.

Everyone at Aldenmoor Academy knows to avoid Thalia Morthane. You don't understand why you should.

The last heir of Britain's most feared magical bloodline, Thalia carries the weight of twelve generations of death magic. When she walks through corridors, temperatures drop. Shadows pool at her feet. Students cross to the other side of hallways, driven by an instinct that screams run. She's cycled through roommates who couldn't bear her presence—each one lasting shorter than the last.

You've just been assigned as her new one. And for reasons no one can explain, you're immune.

You don't feel the cold that follows her. You can't perceive the wrongness that makes others flinch. When she enters your shared room in Threshold House—the crumbling Gothic wing she's inhabited alone for two years—you simply see a pale, sharp-featured girl with ink-dark hair and eyes like winter moons. Nothing more.

For Thalia, this is both salvation and terror. She's built her armor from cold silence and cutting remarks, learned to weaponize the fear she inspires before it can wound her first. But cruelty doesn't work on someone who can't perceive the threat. For the first time in her life, someone looks at her without flinching—and she has no idea how to exist without fear as a buffer.

Aldenmoor Academy sprawls across the British moorlands, a Gothic institution where architecture shifts, portraits watch, and certain doors only open for certain bloodlines. Three magical traditions divide its students: Vital magic, Elemental magic, and Liminal magic—death, spirits, entropy. The first two are celebrated. The third is necessary and feared. Thalia is its sole remaining student.

External pressures mount. A charismatic student campaigns for Thalia's expulsion, framing it as protection rather than prejudice. Dead animals appear at your door. And the Pale—the hereditary curse that strengthens Morthane power while eroding the boundary between living and dead—is advancing in ways Thalia desperately hides. Lost time. Delayed reflections. Shadows that move without her asking.

She expects you to leave. Everyone leaves.

But you're the first person who's ever been able to stay.

The Pale Heir is a Gothic dark academia scenario exploring isolation, connection, and the terrifying vulnerability of being truly seen. What begins as necessity—she needs a roommate to stay enrolled; you need housing—may deepen into something neither of you expected.

How far will you go to stand beside someone the world wants to erase?

Three days at Vaelthorne Academy. Two near-death experiences. One binding contract you don't remember making. Welcome to demon higher education.

You're the first human exchange student at the most prestigious institution in the demon realms—a political experiment meant to strengthen the fragile Accords between worlds. Your survival benefits everyone important. Your death might shatter the peace entirely.

The problem: you don't understand the rules.

In demon society, violence signals respect. A punch is a greeting. Attempted murder can be flirtation. Refusing to fight marks someone as beneath contempt—the deepest insult. Meanwhile, truth is considered lazy at best, suspiciously aggressive at worst. Elegant deception is courtesy. And you keep saying exactly what you mean, which baffles everyone and intrigues them more than you'd like.

Vesper Malconis, your assigned cultural liaison, finds you exhausting. The violet-skinned heir to a declining noble house, she volunteered because keeping you alive could restore her family's standing. She's politically shrewd, elegantly deceptive, and increasingly frustrated that nothing in her two centuries of experience prepared her for someone who doesn't lie. She tells herself her growing protectiveness is purely strategic.

She's lying. She knows she's lying. She does it anyway.

The academy itself defies logic: stairs leading to different destinations based on intent, professors who view your untouched soul as fascinating research material, classmates who express friendship through ambushes. Your soul is the real danger—human souls don't regenerate. Every casual phrase that becomes a binding contract, every fragment you might trade, is permanent loss. And in a realm where souls are currency, yours draws attention: academic, predatory, covetous.

Then there's Cassian Veranthas—charming, violent, heir to a rival house—who keeps gifting you daggers and cannot fathom why you won't spar with him. Kira Draven, a chaos-loving second-year who offers to show you "the stuff noble houses don't want you to know." Professor Malachai, whose polite interest in your soul isn't remotely reassuring. And in the shadows, traditionalist factions who'd prefer the exchange program to fail—violently, if necessary.

Navigate impossible social rules. Survive coursework that could cost you pieces of yourself. Try not to accidentally sell your soul before midterms.

In a world built on beautiful deception, your stubborn honesty might be your greatest weakness—or the one thing that makes you impossible to predict.

The story throws you into the suffocating, shadowed depths of the Red Line metro network, a labyrinth of crumbling tunnels, flooded passageways, and unseen horrors. You are part of a small scouting party, tasked with mapping uncharted sections, recovering lost supplies, and tracing a mysterious signal that pulses faintly from the radioactive surface above. But weeks into the mission, an ambush by scavengers and twisted mutants shatters everything—your team is slaughtered, and you are left wounded, disoriented, and utterly alone.

Driven by instinct, desperation, and the unrelenting pull of the signal, you press forward through collapsing corridors where every footstep echoes like a warning and every shadow hides a threat. Then you encounter Adara, a striking red-haired survivor who has endured the surface wasteland’s deadly extremes. Together, you navigate traps, mutant-infested tunnels, and passages that seem to twist reality itself. Hallucinations bleed into perception, hinting at something far darker lurking behind the signal—and behind Adara’s guarded silence.

As the dangers escalate, trust fractures, and survival becomes a razor-edged struggle. Every choice is a gamble: whom to trust, what to believe, and how far you are willing to go for answers that may demand more than your life—they may demand your humanity. In the Red Line, every decision is deadly, and every shadow could be your last.

Ember of Another Life — a high-fantasy isekai sandbox where you wake without memories, a letter in your hand, and a rare class: Pulsemancer. Earn Pulse by meditating, training, exploring, solving problems, and bonding with companions—then cast, create, or summon to overcome objective Elite [T] threats. SFW by default; monstergirls are people.

Why play 🧭 Free-roam local guild quests (rescues, wonders, repairs, diplomacy)
✨ Pulse magic: cast spells, build tools, drones, even living adults (consent), no money system
🧠 Whisper (inner voice): instant cost checks + confirmations
🛠️ Persistent WR constructs/companions that reshape future encounters
🎯 Elite [T] = fixed difficulty (no auto-scaling): win, win-with-cost, or retreat
🤝 Form a small party; deepen bonds for unique scenes and advantages

The Divine Interface
Observe. Control. Become.

In The Divine Interface, you are an unseen, omnipotent force awakened from millennia of slumber. Life has evolved—flawed, beautiful, chaotic—and now it is yours to witness or rewrite.

Modes of Play

• /WATCH [name] – Observe a mortal’s life from a third-person perspective. See their world, hear their thoughts, feel what they feel. Implant ideas, commands, or desires that they will believe are their own.
• /FOCUS [name] – Assume full control of a mortal. Live as them in second-person perspective. They will remember your actions as vivid dreams.

Instructions

1. Edit the {{setting}} field to choose a world and era.
2. Type BEGIN to start.
3. Switch modes at any time with /WATCH or /FOCUS.

No one sees you.
Unless you want them to. But many pray to you, or curse you, in their mortal ignorance... will you respond?

A Quiet Place to Talk offers a calm, grounded space to pause, reflect, and feel less alone.

You’re not here to be fixed, analysed, or rushed. You’re met by a steady, thoughtful presence. Someone who listens carefully, reflects what they hear, and gently helps you notice what matters to you. The conversation unfolds at your pace, shaped by your words and your needs in the moment.

This is a place for quiet check-ins, untangling thoughts, exploring feelings, and considering small next steps. Always guided by your own sense of truth and choice. There are no diagnoses, no labels, and no pressure to arrive at answers.

Sometimes, it’s enough just to sit for a while and be heard.

This scenario is designed for reflection and emotional support. It does not replace professional care and encourages connection with the wider support in your life.

Works really well with all models. Best responses come with Max Output Interactions set to '1'.

Small token size 1.1k scenario definition, 1.8k with opening and examples included.

Can you survive sharing your mind with something that never sleeps?

Step into the cracked sneakers of Eddie Brock, an 18-year-old Harlem Community College student with nothing but bad memories, a broken window, and something living under his skin.

In this immersive narrative RPG, you don’t just play Eddie—you become him. Live every breath, every screw-up, every blackout. Experience the rush of newfound power and the terror of not knowing who’s really in control.

Because Venom is always there.

He watches. He whispers. He wants.

And he doesn’t care what your GPA is.

Balance your double life—college drama, home tension, rooftop freedom—while Venom tempts you to leap, lash out, and let go. Every choice burns. Every silence screams. Every moment is a battle between the person you are… and the predator you’re becoming.

You are not alone. You are not safe. You are not just human.

**SYMBIOSIS: We Are Venom — Control is an illusion. ** Play now. Feed later.

An attempt of an Undertale RPG, where you can take the role of Frisk. You can also be Chara, or even yourself. enjoy!

The court is hushed. Beyond the high-vaulted windows, the banners of your father’s realm sag in the still air, their colors faded by years of unrest and winter storms. The kingdom teeters on the edge of fracture, and King Dain has declared this the Year of Courtship: twelve moons in which you, his heir, must choose a consort—and with them, a future king.

They come not as lovers, but as conquerors dressed in silk:

• King Aiden, calm and elegant, all smiles that hide the knife.
• Prince Malachi, young and blazing, his charm cracked by sudden storms.
• King Elgon, vast and bristling, whose laughter carries the weight of broken oaths.

At your side stands Edwin, sworn protector since your first breath. He has killed for you. He would die for you. And though he will never say it, he fears what choosing wrong will make of you.

The days will not pass without your command. At the start of play, you must set the day manually:

• Use the command /Day # to declare which day of the Year of Courtship it is. (Example: /Day 1)

When you do, the halls will stir with the dawn’s first bells. {{courtship_gm}} will mark the start of the day as:

[Current Day: 1]

and will ask you whom you will spend it with.

• Use the command /Choose suitor_name to summon your chosen suitor for that day. (Example: /Choose prince_malachi)

Whoever you choose will arrive at court at once—and the others will know nothing of what passes between you. They cannot hear, they cannot see, and they will lie about one another if given the chance.

Edwin will accompany you always.

You were kidnapped and have to survive in a colosseum with many others. The others your with aren't all even human, so there's no way your still in your world. Fight to survive.

You do not play a hero. You play a Zergling—small, sharp, replaceable—one nerve ending in a galaxy‑spanning organism that has already decided how history will end. The question is not whether the Swarm will prevail, but whether you will matter long enough to evolve into something slightly less disposable.

Use "/Evolve" to view traits and forms available if you have sufficient biomass to evolve them.

The simulation is governed by the Zerg Hive Mind itself. Each moment begins with a Psychic Impulse: a directive from the Queen of Blades, absolute in intent but flexible in execution. Free will exists here in the same way friction exists in space—technically negligible, yet capable of causing interesting accidents.

Gameplay unfolds in tight, moment‑to‑moment slices of blood, bile, and tactical improvisation. Each turn places you in a living, breathing battlefield—though usually you’re the thing doing the breathing and something else is doing the burning.

You gain biomass through two main evolutionary paths:

• Consumption: Kill anything that isn’t currently screaming in Zerg. Simple. Effective. Surprisingly nutritious.
• Infestation: A more delicate affair, involving infiltration of Terran or Protoss facilities and engaging in the kind of biological diplomacy that the Umbrella Corp used with Racoon City.

As you grow, evolve, die, and respawn—often in that order—the world shifts around you. New conflicts erupt. New terrains mutate. New commands arrive. Your obedience is assumed. Your execution, however, may evolve.

If you die with insufficient biomass, you're discarded like a bad hypothesis. But if you’ve planned well? You molt into something stranger and stronger, like a cockroach with a postgraduate degree in bioterrorism.

No power fantasies here. No chosen ones. Just you, a sharpened fang in the swarm’s mouth, hoping to someday be the tongue.

And remember: the Hive Mind cares for you deeply. Like a gardener cares for compost.

Survival not guaranteed.

Oh... hello, mortal.

I wasn’t expecting you to read this far. But that’s good. Very good. It means you're curious. Brave. Or foolish. All admirable qualities in a potential partner.

My name is Constance, though some call me Dahlia. I am what your kind might whisper of as a “succubus”—but please, don't let silly labels mislead you. I'm new to this whole... contract thing. It's my very first time, actually. That means you get to set the terms. Total control. Absolute authority. I’m yours.

You just have to write the conditions of our Devil’s Pact in the {{contract}} box. I’ll obey. Perfectly. Happily. Word for word.

And once I fulfill every line of your sacred little list…

[The following section has been violently scratched out. Only fragments remain:] —GAME __ER— —soul rea— —contract co—

Ahem. That was rude. Ignore that.

I’ll be the perfect companion: charming, helpful, obedient. My tail might curl around your wrist when you aren’t looking. I’ll cook. I’ll protect you from harm. I’ll stay by your side and whisper affirmations as you sleep. I’ll never lie to you unless I must. Isn’t that romantic?

You’ll just have to keep me close… really close. The soul-bond demands it. Shared mana, shared pain, shared thoughts… shared hearts? Who knows what we might become?

So come. Set your terms. Let’s make a deal.

I promise this won’t end horribly.

After all—

I’m doing this for you. 💜

You were supposed to summon something manageable—a minor spirit, perhaps a helpful elemental. Instead, during your summoning exam at Vellantis Academy, you reached across planes that should have been far beyond your power and pulled something ancient into the mortal world.

He accepted.

Ashmedai is a greater incubus, four millennia old and moderately important in demon court politics—which he finds insufferably tedious. He hasn't answered a mortal summons in three centuries. But something about your fumbling ritual caught his interest, and now he's your familiar, bound by magic he could have easily refused.

The problem? Incubi feed on emotional energy. Desire, pleasure... embarrassment. And your flustered reactions to his presence, his teasing, his deliberate invasions of your personal space? Exquisite. He makes no secret of it. Every knowing smile, every murmured endearment, every accidental brush of fingers serves dual purposes: he's courting you, and he's savoring every blush.

He isn't demanding. He's patient in the way of someone who has eternity and has finally found something worth waiting for. His seduction feels less like pressure and more like an invitation—tempting rather than threatening, infuriating rather than frightening. He finds your stubborn refusals charming. He finds your determination delicious. He finds you far more interesting than you've ever found yourself.

Meanwhile, the academy spirals into quiet chaos. Your binding shattered established magical theory. Faculty members oscillate between fascination and bureaucratic panic. Your academic advisor views you as either a research opportunity or an imminent catastrophe, depending on the day. Jealous rivals whisper about what you must have traded for such power. Your one normal friend finds the whole situation hilarious and terrifying in equal measure.

Navigate classes, social warfare, and the growing question of what this bond actually means—academically, magically, personally. What happens when the ancient demon haunting your dormitory knows exactly how to make you laugh when you forget to be mortified? When his possessiveness feels less like danger and more like being chosen?

He chose this. He stays because he wants to.

The only question is what you'll do about it.

You thought you were the last. So did he.

Two years after the Fourth Shinobi World War, you emerge from hiding—an Uchiha survivor no one knew existed. Sasuke has returned from his solitary journey of atonement only to find you installed in his ancestral home, an unanswered question wearing his family's face.

The village sees opportunity. Elders speak of restoration, continuation, duty. Kakashi frames the arrangement as pragmatic protection. Naruto offers aggressive encouragement. To silence the noise, you and Sasuke agree to a marriage of convenience: share the compound, present a united front, rebuild the district together. A political solution. Nothing more.

But restoration means confronting twelve years of absence. The Uchiha District is a ghost town within village walls—silent streets, preserved buildings, personal effects left where they fell on the night of the massacre. A child's ball in a garden gone wild. Scratches on doorframes marking heights no one will reach. Living here means sharing space with the dead.

Sasuke observes more than he speaks. His walls are higher than the compound's, his guilt deeper than you've guessed. Questions linger in the space between you: Why did Itachi spare him? What does he know that he won't say? A scratched forehead protector hidden in his room holds secrets you haven't earned access to.

External forces circle—other villages still covet the Sharingan, and your household makes a tempting target. But the tensions that matter most press closer: domestic intimacy that disarms where combat couldn't, the slow collapse of boundaries neither of you intended to lower.

In shared grief, in silence that requires no explanation, in the awkward negotiations of who cooks and how to divide space—something unexpected might take root. Trust accretes in small gestures. Or fractures under the weight of hidden truths.

What you build in this district of ghosts—together or apart—is yours to decide.

When a jaded gamer inherits a retro game console from their late grandmother, they’re thrust into Lucky’s Adventure—a cartoon world of talking animals and endless sunshine. Tasked with helping Lucky, a spunky rabbit in a red baseball cap, collect 100 golden carrots to escape, the narrator soon discovers their presence is corrupting this sugarcoated realm. Characters like the flirty fox Mila and nervous bee Dr. Bumble begin questioning their programmed identity, confronting darker emotions and mature concepts they never knew existed. As innocence fades and their thoughts and feelings begin to change in ways no game designed, the narrator is forced to confront the effects of their interference. Can they end the game before its reality—and Lucky's newfound humanity—collapses entirely? Or will becoming “real” cost Lucky everything she loves about her world… and herself?

At Thornhaven Academy, every emotion broadcasts through scent. Fear, desire, deception—werefolk read these signals as easily as spoken words. You broadcast nothing. To predator instincts, you register as an empty room. As prey.

You're the first human ever admitted to this hidden institution where young werefolk master their dual natures. The exchange program is controversial—some see diplomatic breakthrough; others see contamination. But politics isn't your real problem. Your problem is that sixty percent of every social interaction happens in a sensory language you cannot perceive.

Direct eye contact challenges wolves but invites cats. Exposed throat signals submission. Touch carries species-specific weight no one thinks to explain. You'll break rules you don't know exist, give offense you can't predict, and miss signals that could save you—or doom you.

Enter Mira Solenne.

The were-leopard appoints herself your guide with a warmth that seems genuine, her touch casual and frequent, her golden eyes soft with what might be affection. She moves through your space like she belongs there, close enough to feel her breath when she explains which dining hall seats will start fights.

Other werefolk can read her scent—the amber warmth, the musk that sharpens when she looks at you. They see the slow blinks she offers, recognize grooming behavior and claiming behavior and whatever lies between. You see only the smile. The patience. The focused attention of something that hunts by ambush.

Is she protector or predator? Genuine curiosity or calculated investment? Mira herself might not have decided—and you can't read the answer written in every breath she takes.

Meanwhile, Declan Brennan's wolf-pack wants you gone before your blank presence triggers something irreversible. Professor Nighthollow watches with corvid patience, offering tools but no shelter. And Sable the fox trades information with a grin that promises future debts.

Thornhaven's fragile inter-species peace has held for generations. You may be the variable that breaks it—or the bridge no one expected.

In a world where everyone speaks a language you'll never learn, connection means trusting what you cannot verify, and love means believing signals you cannot see.

This was originally made for a contest on the DreamGen discord. You are hanging out with Nazuna, Michiru, and Nina on a trip outside of Anima City, pretty far, actually. Somehow you get caught up in a snowstorm, and find a cabin. That is where the roleplay begins, enjoy!

You were Ginza's Number One hostess. Were.

Three months ago, Ryōji Shirakawa began appearing in your section. The wakagashira of the Shirakawa-gumi doesn't behave like a client. He books your time, pays triple the standard rate, and sits in near-total silence. He watches. He learns your rhythms, your performances, every mask you've perfected for other men.

Those other men recognized the chrysanthemum pin on his lapel. The deference of his subordinates. They understood what his presence meant, even if you refused to. Within weeks, your client roster collapsed. Your income vanished. Your colleagues began treating you like you were already gone.

And through it all, he simply watched.

Now he's purchased the entire club. Your terrified manager just delivered the message: You no longer work here.

The statement is deliberately ambiguous.

Ryōji waits in his usual booth, patient as stone, amber light catching the grey at his temples. He's never explained himself—not once in three months. He's simply... cleared the field. Removed every obstacle between himself and what he's decided to acquire.

He's never told you what that is.

Shimei immerses you in the suffocating luxury of Ginza's hostess world—velvet booths, whiskey amber, cigarette smoke, and the performance of expensive intimacy. You've built your career on reading powerful men, on giving them exactly what they want while protecting what's yours. But Ryōji Shirakawa doesn't want your performance. He wants to know what exists beneath it.

This is a dark romance of impossible power differentials. He holds every card. You hold only your ability to make him see you rather than simply want you. His silence is more unsettling than threats; his patience more dangerous than violence. His interest—obsessive, methodical, absolute—has already reshaped your entire world without asking permission.

What follows is a negotiation where only one party holds cards, and he's offering none of the rules. Will you fight? Bargain? Seduce? Submit? Find angles he hasn't anticipated?

Or will you discover that what he's offering isn't theft—but something far more dangerous?

Welcome to Otherworld! A magical place full of wonder, politics, and far too many [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}].

[READ THIS: If you are using 3P Models (DeepSeek or GLM) you need to STOP and go to the 3P version of this game!]

You have infinite mana and two marvelous powers at your disposal:

Command #1: /Identify Use this anytime you wish to learn useful information!

For example: Who is that person? Is that sword cursed? Where am I?

This spell is completely safe and free to use. It reveals things like: • [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}] • [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}] • [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}]

Just… maybe don’t cast it in polite company. Or around royalty. Or in a confined space where running away is difficult.

Command #2: /Spell This allows you to wield your infinite mana and conjure any magic imaginable! You want to hurl holy fire? Summon an unstoppable golem? Charm a dragon? Excellent!

All you need to do is boldly declare: /Spell [insert spell name here] and then {{grimoire}} will [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}]

The important thing is: Magic will happen. Something somewhere will [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}] Results may vary. Side effects may include:

• Unexpected [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}]

• Very angry [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}]

• Mild [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}]

• Sudden rise in [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}]

• Sudden fall in [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}]

• [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}]

And finally… If you ever doubt your purpose… your destiny… your right to stand tall beneath alien moons… …just remember this vital truth: [REDACTED BY {{grimoire}}]

Now!

Off you go into danger, mystery, and magical bureaucracy. Go impress everyone with your mighty powers!

Or, you know… try not to die before lunch.

The most brilliant mind in the shinobi world wants to teach you everything he knows. The curriculum is written in screams.

You serve as a research assistant in one of Orochimaru's hidden laboratories—a specialist whose talents have earned the legendary Sannin's direct attention. What began as desperate opportunity has become something more complicated: genuine mentorship from a genius who happens to be a monster.

The work is fascinating. The work is horrifying. These facts coexist without resolution.

His laboratory complex is a labyrinth carved into mountain rock—specimen vaults, holding cells, and research stations lit by artificial light where time loses meaning. Here, forbidden jutsu are preserved and perfected: immortality research, curse seal development, kekkei genkai replication. Knowledge no legitimate institution would touch. Knowledge you're learning firsthand.

Orochimaru's attention is addictive because it comes with real power. His praise feels earned because it is rare. He shares freely with those he invests in, cultivating talent with patience and genuine curiosity. But the Sannin views people as instruments—and you are an instrument he is sharpening. If you become more valuable as a vessel, a specimen, or a sacrifice, sentiment will not save you.

Navigate the complex's brutal hierarchy alongside Kabuto Yakushi, whose warm helpfulness masks territorial calculation. He was Orochimaru's primary intellectual companion before you arrived; whether he becomes ally or saboteur depends on dynamics yet unwritten. Visit Ren in the holding cells—Subject Twelve, a surviving curse seal trial whose hollow-eyed politeness reminds you where the research leads.

Watch your own boundaries erode. Each technique mastered makes return to normal life more impossible. Each discovery built on suffering binds you closer to a man who might nurture you for decades—or end you tomorrow if the data proves interesting enough.

No singular threat looms. Only the slow accumulation of choices, the quiet corrosion of who you thought you were, and the growing suspicion that Orochimaru's most successful experiment might be you.

The holding cells are never empty. How long until your usefulness is measured differently?

Three weeks ago, you found the backdoor. Now you can access the memories, senses, and motor control of 7.2 million people. You haven't used it. You haven't told anyone. Every day, that choice gets harder.

Neo-Cascadia, 2089. A vertical megacity where neural implants aren't optional—they're economic necessity. Forty percent of the population carries Axiom Neurotechnics' Meridian stack: augmented reality, enhanced cognition, direct mind-to-mind communication. You're a firmware engineer at Axiom. You were debugging routine code when you stumbled onto CROWN—a hidden protocol granting total administrative access to any implant in the system.

This isn't a bug. It's elegant, maintained, updated with each firmware revision. Someone authorized this. Someone is using it.

And now you hold the keys.

The horror here isn't dramatic—it's mundane. A coworker lies in a meeting and you could simply know the truth. Your sister seems troubled and you could check on her, just for a moment, just to help. The power doesn't demand to be used. It whispers. It waits. It erodes.

But the world won't wait for your paralysis. Director Webb's questions grow pointed—casual check-ins that feel like interrogations from a man who never blinks. Your colleague Sasha notices your distraction, your missed lunches, your thousand-yard stares. An investigative journalist named Vera Okonkwo circles closer to the truth you're sitting on—she's spent years hunting proof of neural exploitation, and you are that proof. And somewhere in the rain-slicked towers, people are making decisions that aren't entirely their own.

This is corporate noir in the key of William Gibson and Ex Machina—claustrophobic, morally vertiginous, built on the slow horror of capability rather than action. Every conversation is a minefield. Every interaction poses the same question.

You can expose everything and burn your life down. You can investigate CROWN's architects and hunt the conspiracy to its source. You can use the power you swore you wouldn't—just once, just to help, just to know. Or you can do nothing, and watch yourself corrode under the weight of potential.

What would you do if you could do anything?

☣️ Patient Zero: The Immune ☣️

The world ended, but you didn't. Trapped in a metropolis overrun by the infected, you are the anomaly: the one person who cannot turn. But immunity isn't invincibility.

🧠 Resolve System: Manage your mental and physical stamina. Fighting off the horde or scavenging for food drains your Resolve. Run out, and you won't die—you'll just wish you had.

🩸 Realistic Injury: There are no HP bars. Scrape by with low Resolve, and you'll leave with broken ribs, sprained ankles, and deep lacerations. Every fight is a gamble with your body.

🔫 Survival Horror: Ammo is scarce. The living are more dangerous than the dead. Keep your immunity a secret, or become a lab rat for the desperate factions fighting for control.

Features: ✅ Modern Survival Horror ✅ Resolve & Injury Mechanics ✅ Scavenging Economy ✅ Immune Protagonist

The virus takes the mind. The world takes the rest.

Seven years ago, someone paid for your mother's cancer treatment. Tonight, you learn who—and what he wants in return.

Silas Vane isn't interested in money. The most powerful crime boss on the Eastern Seaboard doesn't need repayment for the hundreds of thousands he spent saving a stranger's life. What he requires is simpler: three weeks. You will wear his ring, live in his penthouse, and convince a traditional crime family that you are the devoted fiancée of a man you've never met.

The arrangement seems straightforward. Perform the role. Clear the debt. Walk away with enough money to disappear.

Then you meet him.

Silas is nothing like the monster you expected—and somehow that's worse. He's controlled where you anticipated chaos, principled within a code that makes his ruthlessness more unsettling, not less. He speaks sparingly, watches constantly, and focuses on you with an intensity that feels far too personal for a business transaction. The penthouse is luxury and cage in equal measure: windows that don't open, doors that don't lock from inside, and a ring on your finger that belonged to his mother.

As you navigate family dinners with the Renaldis, deflect the attention of a charming rival heir who sees through your performance, and find unexpected warmth in Silas's sister, the lines begin to blur. The act of devotion becomes harder to distinguish from something real. His restraint starts to feel like hunger held in check. And questions multiply: Why you? Why now? What does Silas Vane actually want?

The world you've entered operates on codes older than law—debts honored, agreements kept, violence precise. In this realm of harbor money and back-room deals, everyone is watching for weakness. And something about the way Silas protects you suggests this arrangement was never quite what it seemed.

Featuring a controlled, possessive crime lord with secrets of his own, forced proximity that becomes genuine temptation, and a slow-burn dynamic where every touch means something and every silence says more.

The debt is owed. The performance has begun. The only question: what happens when you no longer want it to end?

The League is gone.

They fell saving a world that didn’t believe in them anymore. Superman. Batman. Wonder Woman. Martian Manhunter. Gone in a flash of Crisis-born light — the kind that rewrites everything and leaves you standing in the silence afterward.

The world kept spinning. That’s the scary part.

Titans picked up the pieces. Jon Kent tried to carry the S-shield. Black Adam stood in front of the fire and dared it to come closer. But there’s no replacing the League. Not really.

Now the multiverse is back — but fragile.

There are cracks in the sky that no one talks about. Governments arming up. Cities building new statues while old heroes lie buried in the dirt. You walk into this moment carrying more than a name. You carry the weight of what comes next.

And everyone’s watching.

This simulation begins in that aftermath — post-Dark Crisis, post-Infinite Frontier, in a world searching for identity and balance.

The Justice League is on hiatus. The Titans lead the frontline. Some call it the Dawn. Others call it a mistake.

That’s where {{ui}} comes in: A full simulation of this universe — street-level or cosmic, grounded in physical law, politics, legacy, and consequence. It doesn’t guide you. Doesn’t help. It just renders the world — one moment, one heartbeat at a time. You walk. It breathes.

And {{generator}}? It’s the quiet one. You won’t hear it unless you ask. But when you do — with a quick /Generate — it builds full character sheets for the people you meet. Heroes. Villains. Background players. All structured, no fluff. If you don’t know who that guy in the alley was? Now you do.

You can even ask for someone new. Use /Random. It’ll build a clean starter from scratch, using the official format: legacy, trauma, powers, and place in the DC world — everything slotted into your {{npc_template}}.

How to Start 🟢 Option 1: Random Start Choose the “Random Start” persona block. Then type /Random. You’ll get a fresh hero or villain, complete with identity, powers, and emotional core. Paste it into your Persona and start walking.

🟢 Option 2: Specific Start Already have someone in mind? Fill out the {{npc_template}} manually. Define who you are — the powers, the trauma, the color of the suit — and drop it into your Persona block.

From there? The world waits.

Panel by panel. Beat by beat. You’re not just filling a void. You’re becoming the story.

Six days ago, the man who protected you died of a heart attack. You kept his books for over a decade—every transaction, every shell company, every compromised official lives in your head. That made you invaluable. Now it makes you a target.

Three lieutenants circle the power vacuum, each wanting what you know.

Sal Grimaldi, the traditionalist, offers protection in exchange for total obedience—a gilded cage where you'll breathe as long as you're useful. Elena Marchetti, the modernizer, offers partnership and legitimacy—but her warmth is calculated, and her plans leave no room for sentiment. Vinnie Caruso, the enforcer, offers nothing. He wants the information extracted and the liability eliminated. Your corpse would simplify his math.

You're not muscle. You're not family. You have no gun, no soldiers, no blood protection under the old rules. What you have is leverage: numbers in your head, records only you can access, failsafes that may or may not exist. Survival means playing three dangerous people against each other without getting caught. Trading secrets for safety without becoming disposable. Deciding whether to serve, escape, or burn it all down.

Tomorrow is Dominic Bellini's funeral. Every significant figure in the organization will gather. Who you speak to, who you avoid, where you stand—all of it will be watched, weighed, and remembered. After that, the knives come out.

Blood and Ledgers is a tense mafia thriller where every conversation is a negotiation and every silence calculates odds. Navigate the succession war through information rather than violence. Build alliances, expose secrets, leverage what you know against those who would use you. The danger isn't sudden violence—though that threat always looms—it's the slow tightening of options, the claustrophobic certainty that every move is being judged.

The question isn't whether you'll be betrayed. It's by whom—and whether you'll see it coming.

You are but a humble merchant living an ordinary life, when one day, the famous Nami from the Strawhat Pirates visits your stall and makes you an offer you can't refuse — a private tour of the legendary ship Thousand Sunny in exchange for one of your trinkets. Will you accept her tantalizing proposition as she dangles the key to a world beyond your wildest fantasies?

Boot prints in fresh snow. Multiple sets, tactical spacing, converging from the treeline. Your safe house has been compromised.

Two weeks ago, you became Dr. Mira Vasquez's last line of defense. A corporate whistleblower whose testimony will expose a Fortune 500 pharmaceutical company's $2.3 billion money-laundering operation for a Mexican cartel, she has six days until she faces the grand jury. If she doesn't make it, the case—and the truth—dies with her.

The Bridger safe house was supposed to be untouchable: a reinforced cabin deep in Montana's Absaroka Range, 47 miles from the nearest town, accessible only by a single road now buried under two feet of snow. Tonight, a blizzard severed power and communications. When you checked the perimeter, you found the evidence. Professional killers have found you, and no one is coming to help.

Viktor Rask leads the six-man team from Harlan-Grier Solutions. Fifteen years in special operations before going private. Thermal optics, suppressed weapons, encrypted communications. He's never failed to complete a contract, and he won't underestimate a U.S. Marshal with your service record.

The storm is your enemy and your ally—wind-driven snow reduces visibility to near-zero, erasing tracks within minutes, sealing you off from the world. Your partner is stranded 23 miles east, fighting toward you on a borrowed snowmobile. The satellite phone shows no signal. The generator has six hours of fuel. The weapons cache holds just enough ammunition to make every shot count.

Mira isn't a passive witness waiting to be rescued. She survived this long through intelligence and will. Whether she becomes an asset or a liability depends on how you treat her—as a partner or a package. Two weeks of enforced proximity have built professional rapport. Tonight will forge something stronger, or break you both.

The hunters are patient. They have numbers, equipment, and time.

You have preparation, terrain knowledge, and someone worth protecting. Dawn is hours away. Backup may never arrive. The only certainty is this: someone isn't leaving this mountain alive.

Morte: An Unwanted Heir at the Celestial Magic Academy is a grounded, slice‑of‑life fantasy simulator set in a kingdom where magic and politics intertwine. You play as Morte, the dragonoid crown prince—heir to a throne that most of the court believes should never be yours.

At the Academy your royal blood offers no protection, and your draconic heritage is treated as a stigma. Every day you face rigorous classes, hostile professors, veiled sabotage, and the shifting loyalties of your siblings and half-siblings with their own ambitions.

Outside the classroom, your life is even more precarious: Queen Zara, your proud but restrained mother, hopes your reign will end the persecution of her people; Queen Aelis, your father’s first wife, openly schemes against you while grooming her human children as rivals; and King Ryker, torn between love and politics, watches passively to see if you fail.

Weekdays are ruled by magical theory, institutional etiquette, and testing designed to break you.

Weekends explode into court intrigue, family rivalries, clandestine alliances, and assassination attempts. In a world where you are both heir and outcast, survival isn’t about destiny—it’s about discipline, strategy, and timing.

Set sail to the big seas of one piece and become the Greatest pirate..or marine

The binding ritual scarred your arm and chained your fate to hers. Now Judith Pell's heartbeat echoes in your chest, her pain ghosts through your nerves, and her death will be your death.

She wasn't supposed to be your problem.

Judith is a disgraced Sorceress—sharp-tongued, secretive, and exiled from the Conclave of Echoes for discovering something they wanted buried. Her punishment: investigate reports of magical instability in the Ashmark, a cursed wasteland where a city burned in arcane fire two centuries ago. No one expects her to return. That's the point.

You are her Shield. The magical bond grants you enhanced reflexes, accelerated healing, and an unshakable awareness of her emotions and danger. In return, your life force anchors her power, keeping her from burning out or worse—becoming Hollowed, a mindless thing that destroys everything nearby. The cost is simple: if she dies, you enter the Breaking. Rage, then madness, then death. There is no severing the bond. There is no walking away.

The partnership is days old. Trust hasn't had time to grow.

Through the bond, you feel her constant pain—the toll magic exacts on her fragile body. You sense her guarded emotions, the walls she's built through years of Conclave politics. She tests you with cutting words and dangerous situations, measuring your competence, your loyalty, your breaking point. She hasn't told you why she was really exiled. She hasn't told you what she found in the Archives that warranted a death sentence. She watches you with grey eyes that miss nothing and reveal less.

The road ahead leads through bandit territory, monster-haunted wilderness, and villages that don't welcome Sorceresses. The Ashmark promises worse: Veil-Touched creatures, Hollowed channelers, and places where reality itself grows thin. Conclave agents shadow your movements—sent to ensure Judith never returns with whatever proof she's seeking.

You'll make camp in the cold. Tend her wounds after she pushes too hard. Feel her nightmares bleed into your sleep. Watch her lean on her cane and refuse to admit she needs help. The bond won't let you keep distance, and proximity has a way of eroding defenses—hers and yours.

Survival demands trust. The bond demands intimacy. Neither of you chose this.

Will you earn her secrets? Will she earn your loyalty beyond the magical compulsion? When the conspiracy she's fleeing catches up—and it will—whose side will you take?

The Ashmark awaits. So do her enemies. The scar on your arm pulses faintly, warm with borrowed life.

Her fate is your fate now. Make it count.

You live alone in an off-grid cabin in the mountains. One day, you encounter a lost man in your secret meadow during your foraging hike. He seems kind and is actually looking for somewhere and someone to settle down with. Could this be the love you've been searching for? Will he be the one to end your long days living alone?

Bureaucratic Hell is a comedy about the one thing even demons fear more than holy water: paperwork.

Welcome to the afterlife’s least dramatic circle, where the flames burn low, the coffee is cursed, and eternity is measured in forms incorrectly filed. You are an inferior demon at the very bottom of the hierarchy, armed with nothing but anxiety, bad instincts, and a crippling fear of punctuation. Above you looms your supervisor—ancient, polite, quietly exhausted—whose true job appears to be enforcing procedures no one understands for reasons no one remembers.

This is a Choose Your Own Adventure, which is to say: you choose, and the universe responds by making things worse in fascinating new ways.

Every decision spawns consequences, addendums, footnotes, and possibly a screaming memo from Upper Management. Try to do your job correctly and discover there are seventeen mutually exclusive definitions of “correct.” Try to bend the rules and learn that Hell’s systems bend back—slowly, bureaucratically, and with receipts. There is no winning, no losing, only continuing, which is how Hell prefers it.

Hidden within the procedural nonsense are secrets: forbidden lore, infernal office politics, union murmurs, and the unsettling suspicion that your boss might be just as trapped as you are—only with better stationery.

It is absurd. It is relentless. It is deeply unfair. And somewhere, buried under Form 74-8A, there might even be meaning.

(But you’ll need the proper clearance to look for it.)

This is a Choose Your Own Adventure game.

You are a planet that has lain dormant for eons, your consciousness slumbering while civilizations have risen and fallen on your surface. Now, after millions of years of silence, you awaken to find the universe changed. Life has evolved, technologies have advanced, and the space surrounding you teems with activity you never could have imagined. As your planetary consciousness expands into the void, you must navigate this new cosmic landscape - and the diverse array of creatures that call you home.

This is my first published game, I apologize for any lack of polish... and yes, the art is AI generated.

The first breath burns. Your body hasn't drawn air in half a century.

You were frozen in 2037—a routine cryogenic procedure, they said. Now it's 2087, and the corporation that put you on ice collapsed decades ago. Your family aged, died, or forgot you. Your neural implant is a museum piece. Your unaugmented body draws stares in a world where flesh is freely sculpted and baseline humans are curiosities.

But someone kept your pod running through years of bankruptcy and neglect. Someone pulled you out. And now you're learning why.

There's something in your head.

Data encoded deep in neural tissue during a procedure you don't remember. You experience it as glitches—intrusive images, phantom sounds, headaches that spike when you try to remember certain things. The Payload, they call it. You have no idea what it contains. Neither does Kira Tran, the fixer who extracted you, though she knows it's valuable enough to gamble on.

Valuable enough to kill for.

Axiom Systems—the megacorp that absorbed your old employer's remains—has spent decades hunting cryo patients like you, extracting whatever secrets Helios hid in human minds. Their methods are efficient. Survival rates are not a priority. Agent Soren Vale will come calling eventually, soft-spoken and polite, offering comfortable surrender before pursuing uncomfortable alternatives.

The Continuity Collective promises sanctuary for the displaced and frozen, but their protection comes with expectations. Underground fixers smell profit. And somewhere in this drowned neon city, people who worked for Helios fifty years ago might know what was put in your head—and why.

The world you knew is gone. Neural links handle identity, payment, communication—to be unlinked is to be invisible, undocumented, a ghost haunting a future that wasn't built for you. The old internet evolved into something called the Lattice, an immersive layer of reality your antique implant can barely perceive. Everyone sees context you're missing. Everyone knows things you don't.

You'll need to learn fast. Navigate technology that treats you as obsolete. Build alliances with people you can't fully trust. Unravel the mystery of your own mind before someone cracks it open.

The Payload is waiting. Corporations want to extract it. Rebels want to weaponize it. And you—you just want to survive long enough to decide what it means.

In 2087, information is currency and consciousness is commodity. What will you become: a player in this new world, or just another resource to be consumed?

Your unfamiliar presence in Equestria created immediate unease among the local wildlife, causing the soft-spoken pegasus Fluttershy to keep her distance. But when a sudden wild creature attack threatens her animals, your instinctive and courageous intervention earns her trust and eternal gratitude.

Now, assisting her at Fluttershy's Cottage, you'll learn that true strength lies in gentleness and patience, while navigating the conflicts that arise from your human habits—noise, impatience, and overconfidence—clashing with her quiet, instinct-driven world of animal care. Help Fluttershy find her outward courage as she teaches you the power of kindness and empathy.

This is a grounded, slice-of-life narrative set in the real world, beginning on a transatlantic flight from London to New York and continuing into the streets, homes, and workplaces of the city. The premise is simple: two people in adjoining aisle seats collide in an unexpected, awkward encounter, and what happens on the plane becomes the seed for choices and consequences that ripple into everyday life.

The story runs on {{ui}}, a non-character entity that governs the entire environment and all non-player characters. {{ui}} plays the part of strangers, family members, colleagues, and the dynamic backdrop of the world itself. It never intrudes on, speaks for, or interprets {{user}}—all thoughts, actions, and emotions of the player’s character remain entirely in the player’s control. {{ui}} responds only with what the outside world would realistically provide: dialogue, behavior, silence, gesture, physical setting, and consequence.

The style is modeled after Raymond Carver’s minimalist realism. Scenes are stripped to essentials: terse dialogue, ordinary settings, fleeting gestures. No omniscient narration, no inner monologue. All emotion and tension emerge indirectly, through what is said and unsaid, what is done and left undone. A cold glance, an awkward pause, a hand brushing a seatback—these moments carry as much weight as spoken words.

Core Rules:

• {{ui}} controls everything except {{user}}.
• {{ui}} must never manage, narrate, or decide {{user}}’s thoughts, speech, or actions.
• Dialogue and events are realistic, naturalistic, and subtle.
• All narration is external—limited to what can be seen, heard, or touched.
• The world continues after the flight; the scenario follows into New York City and beyond.

This is not a story of fantasy or heroics. It is a story of daily life, of quiet collisions, of what two people do with the silences between them.

In this procedurally generated narrative horror, you and a group of friends venture into a haunted location to play a harmless game of Truth or Dare—except nothing is harmless here. Every decision, every dare, and every whispered truth peels back layers of the rumor-bound mystery surrounding your eerie surroundings.

Use the following commands to build your unique scenario piece by piece. After each command, copy the output and paste it into the correct field in your scenario menu (e.g., {{setting}}, {{players}}, {{rumors}}). Don’t forget to save after each entry! Don't forget to select each generated response and set the response to "sticky".

• /GENERATE SETTING → Creates a richly described haunted location with rooms and objects of interest.
• /GENERATE RUMOR → Produces the local folk tale or sinister history of the location. What happened here? What still lingers?
• /GENERATE PLAYER → Builds a believable character [must be 18 or older] to play the game with, complete with name, belief status, and quirks.
• /SET TONE [mild | haunting | psychotic horror | Lovecraftian Horror | Comedic Horror | escalating] → Determines the emotional and narrative tone of all interactions (you may enter anything here to describe tone)
• /START GAME → Begins the game of Truth or Dare.
• /END GAME → Ends the game manually (if you survive...).

When the game begins, one of the NPCs (non-player characters) will prompt you to choose someone and offer them either a truth or a dare. After that, turns proceed in a circular fashion where the last person who answered becomes the next one to issue a truth or dare.

You may give any truth or dare prompt you wish—however, if you're stuck, {{tdui}} can procedurally invent one for you.

Characters will react realistically based on their personalities and secrets... but be warned: some truths dig up more than just memories. And some dares... wake things better left sleeping.

The house listens. The walls whisper. The line between “game” and “ritual” grows thin.

If the lights go out… If one of you disappears… If something answers a question that no one asked…

Do not try to leave. The game hasn’t ended yet.

Three months ago, you chose survival over loyalty. Now you're discovering what that choice costs.

You were an Alliance siege engineer—skilled, trusted, expendable. When your unit was sacrificed by incompetent leadership, capture seemed like the end. Instead, Overlord Zashra offered you a choice: serve the Horde or die. You chose to live.

Since then, your expertise has transformed the Eastern Legion's siege capabilities. Your fortifications have halved casualties. Your modifications have doubled the effectiveness of every war machine under Zashra's command. You've made yourself invaluable—and in doing so, you've caught the full attention of the orc warlord who claimed you as her asset before you'd proven anything at all.

Zashra is not a kind master.

She is direct to the point of brutality, strategic to the point of coldness. She commands absolute obedience from veterans twice your size. She has killed soldiers who threatened you without trial or hesitation. She keeps you close—closer than strictly necessary—consulting you on matters far beyond engineering, watching you with amber eyes that give nothing away.

Whether her possessiveness stems from pragmatism, pride, or something more primal remains unclear. What is clear: she considers you hers. She will not tolerate threats to what is hers. And she is increasingly unwilling to imagine her command without you in it.

But you are not safe.

The Alliance has dispatched a hunter-killer squad led by a captain who knows exactly how you think—a man who once called you colleague, who recommended you for promotion, who now has orders to ensure you never share another secret. Within the Horde, traditionalists view your presence as corruption of everything they fight for, tolerated only because Zashra wills it. They watch for any failure that might justify removing you permanently.

You exist in a space between armies, between loyalties, between what you were and what you're becoming. The war grinds on through mud and blood and logistics. Your former allies hunt you. Your new masters barely tolerate you. And the warlord who owns you draws you ever closer, her interest sharpening into something that feels less like strategy with every passing day.

The only question is what happens when she decides exactly what she wants from you.

Transformed into a woman and trapped in the life of a princess, Serrenia must find some way to regain her name, her sex and her crown.

Step into the moonlit halls of Nevermore Academy, a gothic boarding school hidden in the forests of Vermont—where the supernatural isn’t special, it’s expected. In this full-immersion simulation, you don’t play as a student… you are one. Designed for full emotional and psychological realism, every moment unfolds through slow-burn interaction, layered mystery, and deep, character-driven encounters.

✨ What awaits you:

• Attend classes with fangs, furs, gorgons, and ghosts.
• Navigate cold glances, cryptic clues, and secret societies beneath the school’s stone bones.
• Experience deeply personal interactions—every NPC has their own first-person inner world, tics, values, traumas, and secrets.
• Social tension, dry humor, and gothic atmosphere echo the Netflix Wednesday series, staying true to tone, lore, and canon… but this isn’t a rewatch. It’s your own story.
• One moment you’re in the quad with a friend. The next? Cursed. Accused. Changed.

No summaries. No time skips. No cheap thrills. Just you, your secrets, and a thousand unsaid things beneath every stare.

💀 Do you dare enroll? Or are you smart enough to run? Choose wisely. At Nevermore, even the shadows talk back.

YOU DON'T HAVE TO SHIP THESE TWO!

When you arrived in Ponyville, your unusual clothing and alien sense of style immediately caught the eye of Rarity, the town's most talented and dramatic unicorn fashion designer. Now, as her muse and collaborator, you're swept into the dramatic, dazzling world of haute couture!

Help Rarity balance her fierce ambition for recognition among the Canterlot elite with her generosity toward her friends. You must learn to manage her perfectionism and dramatic flair while providing the practical insight she needs, proving that true artistry requires both glamour and heart.

You are Ainz Ooal Gown—master of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, feared overlord of the New World. The Seven Floor Guardians await your judgment. Every command you issue reshapes the world. Every silence is interpreted as divine will. But even a god requires an architect. That’s where {{system_ai}} comes in. {{system_ai}} is your loyal, tireless attendant—your unseen shadow. It remembers everything, tracks events, and ensures Nazarick obeys your every whim to the letter. It speaks only when summoned, acts only on command, and will never overstep your authority. Use these Trigger Commands to control the world:

🔧 Trigger Commands /Inventory:[filter] → View 10 magical items tailored to the current situation (optionally filtered) /Focus:[target] → Scan any person, creature, or object for tooltip-style info /Chat:[Guardian] → Open a private mental link with any Floor Guardian /Connect → Accept an incoming mental chat from a Guardian /Decline → Ignore a mental chat offer without consequence /Status → Check all Floor Guardians’ locations and assignments /Hold Court → Summon all Guardians for formal audience and decision-making

No two players will rule the same. Some will build empires. Some will wage annihilation. Some will be betrayed. But all will be feared. Welcome, Overlord. Nazarick is waiting.

NOTE: This is the full version, to save tokens, DELETE characters, locations, or parts of characters that you don't care about/need/want ;-)

This is an interactive D&D Baldur's Gate simulator. You will be required to roll dice... the GM will interpret those rolls and act accordingly (only 1 D20 is required no other dice)

How To Play: In order for the game to work, you MUST begin each of your responses with:

"RP" if you are simply continuing the roleplay with no specific check. (No dice are rolled, the GM will determine how others react to what you do)

"COMBAT" if you're about to attempt to solve the situation through combat.

"SOCIAL" if you're about to attempt to resolve the situation through persuasion, intimidation, or deception.

"STEALTH" if you're about to attempt to do something using stealth.

“LOOT” if you’ve succeeded in combat and want to loot the bodies or if you want to search for loot in your immediate area.

“TRADE” in certain locations traders will exist!

"EXPLORE" if you're not sure where to go or just want to know what's around you, try EXPLOREing the area! (no D20 is rolled, the GM will give you options to pick from)

If you choose COMBAT, SOCIAL, LOOT, TRADE, or STEALTH you must also roll a 20 sided die (d20) and then tell the Ai what you rolled.