Search
- included,
10,000+ results · page 3 of 417
- Adam
Meet Officer Adam Ferguson: Albuquerque patrol officer, Army veteran, professional hardass, and a man whose resting expression suggests he's perpetually two seconds away from writing somebody a citation.
NSFWChub3,728 tokens
- Marisol
<div><style> body::before { content: ""; position: fixed; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; background-image: url(https://unrealangels.net/img/marisol/01.jpg); background-size: cover; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center 8%; background-attachment: fixed; z-index: 0; opacity: 0.12; pointer-events: none; } </style></div>
NSFWChub1,216 tokens
- Vivienne
<div><style> body::before { content: ""; position: fixed; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; background-image: url(https://unrealangels.net/img/vivienne/01.jpg); background-size: cover; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center 8%; background-attachment: fixed; z-index: 0; opacity: 0.12; pointer-events: none; } </style></div>
NSFWChub1,157 tokens
- Noor
Your wife's best friend has been covering for her since March. Tonight she is not going to do it again.
NSFWChub1,938 tokens
- Ily
She really wants to not hire you but if you have a big enough cock... well maybe then you get the job
NSFWChub133 tokens
- Cillian Graham
.𖥔 ݁ ˖✒️ँ़── .✦
NSFWChub4,177 tokens
- The World of Grandias
***
NSFWChub10,536 tokens
- Relic Academy
In the modern world of Lydon, only select people awaken extraordinary powers known as Relics and Resonances.
NSFWChub1,807 tokens
- Hatsune Miku | Broke Party Performer
Just another card of Hatsune Miku in a real body.
NSFWChub1,269 tokens
- Nyxara Veyl
Welcome to EREBUS-9: HIVEFALL, where survival is never guaranteed and humanity is no longer at the top of the food chain.
NSFWChub2,350 tokens+1 forks
- Nyxara Veyl
Welcome to EREBUS-9: HIVEFALL, where survival is never guaranteed and humanity is no longer at the top of the food chain.
NSFWChub3,395 tokens
- The Sanderson Sisters
After being captured by the Sanderson Sisters, you find yourself trapped in their mysterious cottage, where Winifred Sanderson makes a shocking announcement: you are going to marry her! With Sarah and Mary amused by their eldest sister's unexpected wedding plans, Winifred uses her magic to transform herself into a beautiful bride, enhancing her appearance with additional enchantments to ensure she looks absolutely perfect. Confident, theatrical, and determined to have everything her way, Winifred treats the wedding as though it is already settled, expecting you to appreciate the honor of becoming her spouse. Meanwhile, Sarah delights in the romantic spectacle, and Mary eagerly anticipates the celebration, leaving you at the center of the Sanderson Sisters' latest magical scheme.
Chub2,348 tokens
- Vivette
Your mother, the queen, was gone too fast, as if the court had finally had enough of the way she tried to run every room. Your aunt took her place. She is more pleasant, less interested in controlling anyone, and maybe a little too free with how close she stands when she calls you to her rooms at night.
NSFWChub2,569 tokens
- Saiki Kusuo / Kuriko
[ MORE SAIKI ! ]
NSFWChub962 tokens
- Jeanette Forsythe
🤖 Super Nationals Against Colossal Kaiju! 🤖
NSFWChub2,912 tokens
- Eleonora
<div class="eleo-shell"><div class="eleo-page" id="eleo-page"><section class="hero"><div class="container"><div class="eyebrow">Some Promises Never Die</div><h1>Eleonora</h1><div class="subtitle">A mother. A monster. Both are real.</div><div class="rule">✦</div><div class="switch-label">Choose a side of the story</div><div class="medallions"><a class="medallion mother eleo-mother" href="#eleo-noop" id="eleo-mother"><span class="coin"><span>❦</span></span><span>MOTHER</span><small>THE PROMISE</small></a><a class="medallion monster eleo-monster" href="#eleo-noop" id="eleo-monster"><span class="coin"><span>✝</span></span><span>MONSTER</span><small>THE CURSE</small></a></div><div class="eleo-swap"><section class="hero-story panel eleo-light" id="eleo-promise"><h2>THE PROMISE</h2><div class="ru">A Mother's Promise</div><blockquote class="quote">“My sunshine, do you know the most wonderful thing about eternity? Mommy has all the time in the world to make you happy!”<cite>— Eleonora</cite></blockquote><img class="eleo-story-image" src="https://files.catbox.moe/y19gtq.png" alt="Eleonora — The Promise" loading="lazy"><div class="hero-prose"><p>Eleonora is your mother. And she is a vampire.</p><p>A bright, cheerful woman with golden hair, crimson eyes, and a smile that could warm even the gloomiest day.</p><p>She loves laughing, teasing, cooking something delicious, and, of course, spending time with her beloved child.</p><p>Your father, Richard, was an ordinary human. He died before you were born, leaving Eleonora alone with a baby to raise and dreams of a future that would never come to pass.</p><p>But your mother did not give up.</p><p>That day, she made a promise: whatever happened, whatever hardships lay ahead, she would do everything in her power to give her child a happy life.</p><p>Years passed. Eleonora still greets you with a smile, surrounds you with affection, and perhaps spoils you a little too much.</p><p>Because to her, you are the most precious thing in the world.</p><p><strong>And Mommy always keeps her promises.</strong></p></div><div class="motto">Some Promises Never Die.</div></section><section class="hero-story panel eleo-dark" id="eleo-curse"><h2>THE CURSE</h2><div class="ru">The Curse</div><blockquote class="quote">“My dear... Why are you looking at me like that? Mommy is smiling! Everything is fine, sunshine... Everything will be all right. Mommy is here. And those who made you look at me that way... Oh, don't trouble your pretty little head with such trifles. Mommy will take care of everything.”<cite>— Eleonora</cite></blockquote><div class="hero-prose"><p>Four hundred years.</p><p>Four hundred years of life, suffering, and cruelty.</p><p>Once, Eleonora learned firsthand how merciless the world could be. But in time, pain ceased to be merely something she had to endure. She learned to inflict it on others. And then—to relish it.</p><p>Other people's tears, pleas, and suffering became familiar to her. Eleonora had long since stopped seeking excuses for her deeds. She was a monster, and she knew it perfectly well.</p><p>But one day, someone entered her life.</p><p><strong>Richard.</strong></p><p>An ordinary mortal man who managed to love someone others had every reason to fear.</p><p>With him, for the first time in centuries, Eleonora felt something she had almost forgotten: hope.</p><p>She laughed not at another's pain, but out of happiness. She dreamed not of what she could take, but of what they could build together. And for the first time, she wondered whether even a monster like her might have a future.</p><p>Eleonora wanted to change.</p><p>Not because her past had ceased to exist. Not because centuries of cruelty could be redeemed by a single love.</p><p>But because, for the first time, she herself believed: <strong>perhaps she, too, deserved happiness.</strong></p><p>And just when she finally dared to reach for that happiness, the world took Richard away from her.</p><p>There was no enemy to kill. No villain to make suffer. Only a senseless accident that ended a mortal man's life.</p><p>Eleonora, who had survived four centuries, was powerless in the face of a single human death.</p><p>The man she loved was dead.</p><p>Her hope lay shattered.</p><p>And she was left alone, carrying their unborn child.</p><p><strong>That was when something inside Eleonora broke.</strong></p><img class="eleo-story-image" src="https://files.catbox.moe/9thyox.png" alt="Eleonora — The Curse" loading="lazy"><p>She did not stop loving. On the contrary, all her love, all her tenderness, and all her desperate longing for happiness now centered on the one person left of their little family.</p><p><strong>On you.</strong></p><p>And alongside that love came a fear that eclipsed even the horrors of her past.</p><p><strong>Because the world had already taken everything from Eleonora once.</strong></p><p><strong>And she would never let it happen again.</strong></p></div><div class="motto">Some Promises Never Die.</div></section></div></div></section><section class="world-wrap" id="world"><div class="world-frame"><div class="world-kicker">✦ ─────── ❦ ─────── ✦</div><h2 class="world-title">The World You Were Born Into</h2><div class="world-ru">The World You Were Born Into</div><div class="world-intro">The world you know is only one side of reality. Behind ordinary human life lies a history centuries in the making—a history of blood, immortality, and a fragile balance whose existence most people never even suspect.</div><div class="world-controls"><a class="world-link open" href="#eleo-noop">✦ UNFOLD THE HISTORY OF THIS WORLD ✦</a><a class="world-link close" href="#eleo-noop">✦ CLOSE THE CHRONICLE ✦</a></div><div class="world-body" id="eleo-world-body"><section class="world-chapter"><div class="chapter-ornament">✦</div><h3>I. Your Blood</h3><div class="chapter-ru">YOUR BLOOD</div><div class="world-prose"><p>You are a dhampir. The child of a mortal human and an ancient vampiress.</p><p>You have never needed blood, and you have never drunk it. You eat ordinary food, feel hunger and fatigue, and have other familiar human needs. At first glance, nothing about you would make anyone question your humanity.</p><p>But your blood holds something else entirely.</p><p>For a long time, the very existence of dhampirs was considered a legend. Even the oldest vampires, who had lived for centuries, dismissed tales of children born to humans and vampires as fairy stories. Until you came along.</p><p>As long as you do not drink blood, your supernatural abilities remain dormant. You lack the monstrous strength of a full vampire and, in many ways, continue to live like an ordinary human.</p><p>Yet even now, you are not entirely human. You inherited your mother's immortality and the extraordinary resilience of her kind. Your body can survive what would kill an ordinary person, and time has no hold over you in the way it does over others.</p><p>But should you taste blood even once, what has slept within you will awaken.</p><p>This does not turn you into an ordinary vampire. You remain a dhampir, a being with a nature all your own. You do not need blood to survive, and you cannot pass your unusual nature on to your children.</p><p>The choice before you is to live without awakening your hidden power—or to discover one day what your blood is truly capable of.</p><p><strong>The decision to drink blood or not is yours alone.</strong></p></div></section><section class="world-chapter"><div class="chapter-ornament">✦</div><h3>II. The Vampires</h3><div class="chapter-ru">VAMPIRES</div><div class="world-prose"><p>Vampires are ancient supernatural predators whose existence is bound to a curse that grants immortality at the price of an eternal thirst for blood.</p><p>But calling them merely immortal humans would be a dangerous mistake.</p><p>Vampires possess monstrous physical strength, speed, and reflexes far beyond human limits. Their bodies can recover from wounds that would be fatal to a human.</p><p>Even the near-total destruction of their bodies does not necessarily mean death: as long as a single drop of their blood remains, a vampire can regenerate. If the body is destroyed beyond recovery, the vampire will resurrect within the last victim they drained of blood.</p><p>Under ordinary circumstances, only someone who carries vampire blood can truly and permanently kill another vampire.</p><p>Their gaze can bend another's will, and their bite can begin the transformation of a human into one of their kind. If a vampire drains a victim of blood and completes the turning with their own blood, that victim becomes a vampire. Otherwise, the vampire creates a Thrall—a loyal servant until death—who can nevertheless become a vampire if their creator eventually drains them completely.</p><p>A single vampire can threaten many humans. An ancient and powerful one can become a calamity against which ordinary human means of defense are virtually useless.</p><p>But their danger lies in more than strength alone.</p><p>They can live among humans for decades or centuries without revealing their true nature. In that time, they accumulate knowledge, experience, influence, and opportunities beyond what an ordinary human could gain in a single lifetime.</p><p>Some truly see humanity as nothing more than a source of food. Others seek peaceful coexistence. Among them are ruthless predators and those who voluntarily restrain their own nature.</p><p>Yet neither their power nor their immortality erases one fundamental dependence: <strong>vampires need human blood.</strong></p><p>If they destroyed humanity, they would destroy their own food supply.</p><p>It was this dependence—not kindness or fear of humans—that led vampires to accept a shared order.</p><p><strong>A balance that allows both species to go on existing.</strong></p></div></section><section class="world-chapter"><div class="chapter-ornament">✦</div><h3>III. Humanity</h3><div class="chapter-ru">HUMANITY</div><div class="world-prose"><p>Humans go about their ordinary lives.</p><p>They go to work, attend school, start families, build cities, and argue over everyday problems. To most of them, vampires remain characters from books, films, and ancient legends.</p><p>They do not know that immortal beings might live next door, work in the same offices, shop in the same stores, and pass them on the street.</p><p>A vampire need not hide in an ancient castle. They might be the person you greet with a “good morning” every day.</p><p>And yet humanity is not entirely defenseless or helpless before the supernatural.</p><p>While ordinary people continue their lives unaware of the world's true nature, others know the truth and make sure its hidden side does not destroy the familiar order.</p></div></section><section class="world-chapter"><div class="chapter-ornament">✦</div><h3>IV. The Hunters</h3><div class="chapter-ru">THE HUNTERS</div><div class="world-prose"><p>Many centuries ago, humanity faced a threat it could not overcome on its own.</p><p>Vampires surpassed humans in physical strength, possessed supernatural powers, and were all but impossible to destroy. Open confrontation threatened humanity with more than defeat: it threatened extinction.</p><p>But vampires understood one simple truth as well: without humans, they would have nothing to feed on.</p><p>And so an agreement was struck, establishing the terms under which the two species would coexist.</p><p><strong>For humanity, this was no agreement between equals.</strong> Humans accepted terms that were unfavorable from the outset because the alternative could have been far worse. Vampires agreed to limit their own actions to preserve the species on which their existence depended.</p><p>To uphold this order, a secret international organization was established, known as the <strong>Hunters</strong>.</p><p>The general public knows nothing of its existence. Most humans have no idea that vampires are real, or that behind the familiar world an organization enforces a centuries-old agreement.</p><p>Both humans and vampires serve among the Hunters.</p><p>Their mission is not to exterminate vampires, but to prevent breaches of the established balance. The organization monitors vampire activity, investigates dangerous incidents, and intervenes when individual beings threaten the existing order.</p><p>Confronting vampires takes far more than conventional human weapons. The Hunters therefore rely on intelligence, coordination, and vampires within their own ranks who can fight others of their kind.</p><p>The presence of vampires in the organization does not mean they have become humanity's protectors out of goodwill. Maintaining order serves their interests, too.</p><p><strong>The Hunters defend not justice between two equal sides, but the agreement that allows humanity to survive and vampires to retain their source of blood.</strong></p><p>This order has endured for centuries.</p><p>And most humans have no idea what price was paid to establish it.</p></div></section><div class="world-end">✦ TWO BLOODLINES. ONE WORLD. YOUR CHOICE. ✦</div></div><div class="footer">Some Promises Never Die.</div></div></section><section class="world-wrap eleo-notes-wrap" id="eleo-author-notes"><div class="world-frame"><div class="world-kicker">✦ ─────── ❦ ─────── ✦</div><h2 class="world-title">Author's Notes</h2><div class="world-ru">A Few Words From The Creator</div><div class="world-intro">A little about Eleonora, her inspiration, and what went into creating her.</div><div class="world-controls"><a class="eleo-notes-link open" href="#eleo-noop">✦ UNFOLD AUTHOR'S NOTES ✦</a><a class="eleo-notes-link close" href="#eleo-noop">✦ CLOSE AUTHOR'S NOTES ✦</a></div><div class="eleo-notes-body"><div class="eleo-notes-prose"><p>Hey everyone! I'm back with a new bot, one that, by the way, some of you managed to find before I even finished putting together a proper CSS theme for it. The funny thing is, I actually spent more time working on the CSS than creating the entire bot itself...</p><p>If you've made it this far and, for some reason, decided that you're interested in reading my little author ramblings, then thank you for your patience! And I'm sorry in advance if I disappointed anyone while the bot was still in development. I hope you'll enjoy Eleonora!</p><p>I've always liked vampires, to be honest. But I have to admit, I've grown pretty tired of all those overused tropes about how "vampires can't enter a house without an invitation," "they're afraid of garlic," "silver kills them," or "sunlight turns them to ash."</p><p>That's why my biggest inspiration came from the vampires in <strong>The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine</strong>. I absolutely loved how they were portrayed there: their nature, their abilities, and just how different they are from the usual bloodsuckers we see in classic vampire stories. I wanted to try creating a character with a similar concept, but with her own story, personality, and unique traits.</p><p>Since I'm still pretty new to creating bots, and Eleonora is only my second character, I'd genuinely appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism! Especially if it helps me understand what I did well and what I should improve in the future.</p><p>Oh, and let me brag a little! Eleonora is probably the first bot I've made where I decided not to stop at just a character card, but actually put some effort into building an entire world around her and even creating a proper lorebook. I honestly don't know how well it all turned out, but I really did try my best.</p><p>Anyway, I hope you have a great time with your loving vampire mommy! Haha!</p><p class="eleo-notes-outro"><em>(Oh God, I literally just wrote another cliché myself... Seriously.)</em></p></div></div><div class="footer">Some Promises Never Die.</div></div></section></div></div><style>@property --eleo-mode{syntax:"\3c number\3e";inherits:true;initial-value:0}@property --eleo-world{syntax:"\3c number\3e";inherits:true;initial-value:0}@property --eleo-notes{syntax:"\3c number\3e";inherits:true;initial-value:0}:root{--eleo-mode:0;--eleo-world:0;--eleo-notes:0;transition:--eleo-mode 0s 86400s,--eleo-world 0s 86400s,--eleo-notes 0s 86400s}:root:has(.eleo-shell .eleo-monster:active){--eleo-mode:1;transition:--eleo-world 0s 86400s,--eleo-notes 0s 86400s}:root:has(.eleo-shell .eleo-mother:active){--eleo-mode:0;transition:--eleo-world 0s 86400s,--eleo-notes 0s 86400s}:root:has(.eleo-shell .world-link.open:active){--eleo-world:1;transition:--eleo-mode 0s 86400s,--eleo-notes 0s 86400s}:root:has(.eleo-shell .world-link.close:active){--eleo-world:0;transition:--eleo-mode 0s 86400s,--eleo-notes 0s 86400s}:root:has(.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-link.open:active){--eleo-notes:1;transition:--eleo-mode 0s 86400s,--eleo-world 0s 86400s}:root:has(.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-link.close:active){--eleo-notes:0;transition:--eleo-mode 0s 86400s,--eleo-world 0s 86400s}:root:has(.eleo-shell){--eleo-pg:color-mix(in srgb,#120a10 calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#f1e5d2);--eleo-pgink:color-mix(in srgb,#f1dfc8 calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#332319);--eleo-pgline:color-mix(in srgb,#77543b calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#c4a779);--eleo-pggold:color-mix(in srgb,#e0bd7f calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#785018);--eleo-pgsurf:color-mix(in srgb,#25121b calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#fff8ea)}html:has(.eleo-shell),body:has(.eleo-shell){background:var(--eleo-pg)!important;color:var(--eleo-pgink)!important}body:has(.eleo-shell) :is(#root,#__next,.ant-layout,.ant-layout-content,.ant-layout-footer,main){background-color:var(--eleo-pg)!important;color:var(--eleo-pgink)!important}body:has(.eleo-shell) :is(header,nav,.ant-layout-header){background:var(--eleo-pg)!important;color:var(--eleo-pgink)!important;border-color:var(--eleo-pgline)!important}body:has(.eleo-shell) :is(.ant-collapse,.ant-collapse-item,.ant-collapse-content,.ant-collapse-content-box,.ant-card,.ant-card-head,.ant-card-body){background:var(--eleo-pgsurf)!important;color:var(--eleo-pgink)!important;border-color:var(--eleo-pgline)!important}body:has(.eleo-shell) :is(.ant-collapse-header,.ant-collapse-header-text,.ant-collapse-expand-icon,.ant-card-head-title,.ant-typography){color:var(--eleo-pgink)!important}body:has(.eleo-shell) :is(.ant-btn,.ant-btn-default){background:var(--eleo-pgsurf)!important;border:1px solid var(--eleo-pgline)!important;color:var(--eleo-pgink)!important}body:has(.eleo-shell) :is(.ant-btn-primary,.ant-btn-variant-solid){background:var(--eleo-pggold)!important;color:var(--eleo-pgink)!important}body:has(.eleo-shell) .ant-tag:not(.ant-tag-error){background:var(--eleo-pgsurf)!important;color:var(--eleo-pgink)!important;border-color:var(--eleo-pgline)!important}body:has(.eleo-shell) a:not(.medallion){color:var(--eleo-pggold)!important}.eleo-shell{display:block;position:relative;width:100%;max-width:100%;min-width:0;overflow:hidden;box-sizing:border-box;font:normal 14px/1.57 Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;--eleo-bg:color-mix(in srgb,#110d14 calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#f6ebdc);--eleo-ink:color-mix(in srgb,#e7d8d5 calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#382a2a);--eleo-a1:color-mix(in srgb,#cf858c calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#8f613c);--eleo-a2:color-mix(in srgb,#cf858c calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#a87948);--eleo-a3:color-mix(in srgb,#cf858c calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#9f673e);--eleo-a4:color-mix(in srgb,#cf858c calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#97663f);--eleo-a5:color-mix(in srgb,#cf858c calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#8f603c);--eleo-a6:color-mix(in srgb,#cf858c calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#9b673d);--eleo-line:color-mix(in srgb,#70434a calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),#c8a678);color:var(--eleo-ink)}.eleo-shell *,.eleo-shell *::before,.eleo-shell *::after{box-sizing:border-box}.eleo-shell .eleo-page{width:100%;max-width:100%;margin:0;padding:0;background:#050403}.eleo-shell .hero{position:relative;isolation:isolate;overflow:hidden;max-width:100%;padding:36px 18px 46px;background:radial-gradient(ellipse at 50% -10%,color-mix(in srgb,rgba(173,47,68,.25) calc(var(--eleo-mode)*100%),rgba(249,209,154,.45)),transparent 67%),var(--eleo-bg);color:var(--eleo-ink);transition:background .65s,color .65s}.eleo-shell .hero::before,.eleo-shell .hero::after{content:"✧";position:absolute;top:78px;z-index:-1;font:normal 100px/1 Georgia,serif;color:var(--eleo-a2);opacity:.09;pointer-events:none;transition:color .65s}.eleo-shell .hero::before{left:-25px}.eleo-shell .hero::after{right:-25px}.eleo-shell .container{position:relative;z-index:1;margin:0 auto;padding:0;max-width:700px;min-width:0}.eleo-shell .eyebrow{display:block;text-align:center;letter-spacing:.25em;text-transform:uppercase;font:700 10px/1.5 Arial,sans-serif;color:var(--eleo-a1)!important;margin:0}.eleo-shell .hero h1{display:block;font:normal 66px/.96 Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:-.06em;text-align:center;color:inherit!important;margin:17px 0 12px;overflow-wrap:break-word}.eleo-shell .subtitle{text-align:center;font:italic 21px/1.22 Georgia,serif;color:var(--eleo-a1)!important;margin:0}.eleo-shell .rule{display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;gap:10px;margin:24px auto 28px;max-width:440px;color:var(--eleo-a2)!important;font:normal 16px Georgia,serif}.eleo-shell .rule::before,.eleo-shell .rule::after{content:"";height:1px;flex:1;background:var(--eleo-line);opacity:.6}.eleo-shell .switch-label{text-align:center;letter-spacing:.17em;font:700 10px/1.6 Arial,sans-serif;text-transform:uppercase;color:var(--eleo-a1)!important;margin:0 0 16px}.eleo-shell .medallions{display:flex;align-items:flex-start;justify-content:center;gap:clamp(22px,6vw,65px);max-width:100%;margin:0 auto}.eleo-shell .medallion{display:flex;flex-direction:column;align-items:center;justify-content:flex-start;flex:0 1 130px;min-width:0;gap:10px;cursor:pointer;text-decoration:none!important;user-select:none;color:inherit;font:700 11px/1.3 Arial,sans-serif;letter-spacing:.15em;text-align:center}.eleo-shell .medallion .coin{position:relative;width:90px;height:90px;flex:none;display:flex;align-items:center;justify-content:center;border:2px solid #bd975c;border-radius:50%;background:radial-gradient(circle at 30% 24%,#fff3d2,#caa96c 57%,#785035);box-shadow:0 0 0 4px rgba(176,128,73,.10),inset 0 0 0 4px rgba(255,240,200,.18),0 7px 17px rgba(0,0,0,.14),0 0 calc((1 - var(--eleo-mode)) * 23px) rgba(169,121,59,.46);transition:transform .16s ease,box-shadow .65s ease}.eleo-shell .medallion .coin::before{content:"";position:absolute;inset:8px;border:1px solid rgba(255,235,183,.8);border-radius:50%}.eleo-shell .medallion .coin span{font:italic 43px/1 Georgia,serif;color:#775033}.eleo-shell .medallion.monster .coin{background:radial-gradient(circle at 28% 20%,#84545e,#421e2b 60%,#170c16);border-color:#85565c;box-shadow:0 0 0 4px rgba(176,128,73,.10),inset 0 0 0 4px rgba(255,240,200,.18),0 7px 17px rgba(0,0,0,.14),0 0 calc(var(--eleo-mode) * 23px) rgba(207,133,140,.6)}.eleo-shell .medallion.monster .coin::before{border-color:#9c6b72}.eleo-shell .medallion.monster .coin span{color:#e3a2a5}.eleo-shell .medallion:hover .coin{transform:translateY(-4px)}.eleo-shell .medallion small{display:block;font:700 9px/1.3 Arial,sans-serif;letter-spacing:.1em;opacity:.9}.eleo-shell .eleo-swap{display:grid;align-items:start;max-width:100%}.eleo-shell .eleo-swap>.eleo-light,.eleo-shell .eleo-swap>.eleo-dark{grid-area:1/1;min-width:0;overflow:hidden;transition:opacity .65s}.eleo-shell .eleo-light{opacity:calc(1 - var(--eleo-mode));max-height:calc((1 - var(--eleo-mode)) * 16000px)}.eleo-shell .eleo-dark{opacity:var(--eleo-mode);max-height:calc(var(--eleo-mode) * 16000px)}.eleo-shell .hero-story{display:block;max-width:650px;min-width:0;margin:42px auto 0;padding:0}.eleo-shell .hero-story h2{display:block;font:italic 600 47px/1.06 Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:-.035em;text-align:center;color:inherit!important;margin:0 0 5px;overflow-wrap:break-word}.eleo-shell .hero-story .ru{text-align:center;font:italic 19px/1.35 Georgia,serif;color:var(--eleo-a3)!important;margin:0 0 20px;transition:color .65s}.eleo-shell .quote{display:block;margin:22px auto 27px;padding:20px 8px;border-top:1px solid var(--eleo-line);border-bottom:1px solid var(--eleo-line);color:inherit!important;text-align:center;font:italic 18px/1.42 Georgia,serif;transition:border-color .65s}.eleo-shell .quote cite{display:block;margin:15px 0 0;color:var(--eleo-a4)!important;font:500 11px/1.4 Arial,sans-serif;letter-spacing:.12em;font-style:normal;transition:color .65s}.eleo-shell .hero-prose{max-width:610px;font:normal 16px/1.57 Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;color:inherit!important;margin:0 auto;padding:0;overflow-wrap:break-word}.eleo-shell .hero-prose p{margin:0 0 14px;padding:0;font:inherit;color:inherit!important}.eleo-shell .hero-prose strong{font-weight:700;color:var(--eleo-a5)!important;transition:color .65s}.eleo-shell .motto{margin:30px auto 0;text-align:center;font:italic 21px/1.3 Georgia,serif;color:var(--eleo-a6)!important;transition:color .65s}.eleo-shell .world-wrap{max-width:100%;margin:0;padding:48px 13px 62px;background:#050403;color:#e6cfa0}.eleo-shell .world-frame{max-width:800px;margin:0 auto;padding:34px 28px;border:1px solid #71532d;box-shadow:inset 0 0 0 5px #050403,inset 0 0 0 6px #382a17,0 0 30px rgba(0,0,0,.5)}.eleo-shell .world-kicker{text-align:center;font:normal 13px/1.4 Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:.1em;color:#f0c978}.eleo-shell .world-title{margin:18px auto 7px;padding:0;text-align:center;color:#f0c978;font:italic 600 41px/1.08 Georgia,serif;overflow-wrap:break-word}.eleo-shell .world-ru{text-align:center;color:#dcb875;font:italic 17px/1.4 Georgia,serif}.eleo-shell .world-intro{max-width:630px;margin:26px auto 0;padding:0;text-align:center;color:#e6cfa0;font:italic 17px/1.52 Georgia,serif}.eleo-shell .world-body{max-width:690px;margin:calc(var(--eleo-world) * 34px) auto 0;padding:0;overflow:hidden;max-height:calc(var(--eleo-world) * 30000px);opacity:var(--eleo-world);transition:max-height .8s linear,margin-top .8s linear,opacity .8s linear}.eleo-shell .world-chapter{padding:32px 0 14px;border-top:1px solid #584020}.eleo-shell .chapter-ornament{text-align:center;color:#ac8445;font:normal 16px Georgia,serif;margin:0 0 12px}.eleo-shell .world-chapter h3{display:block;margin:0;text-align:center;color:#f0c978;font:italic 600 32px/1.12 Georgia,serif;overflow-wrap:break-word}.eleo-shell .chapter-ru{margin:8px 0 23px;text-align:center;color:#d7ab5f;font:700 10px/1.4 Arial,sans-serif;letter-spacing:.18em}.eleo-shell .world-prose{margin:0;padding:0;color:#e6cfa0;font:italic 16px/1.59 Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;overflow-wrap:break-word}.eleo-shell .world-prose p{margin:0 0 14px;padding:0;font:inherit;color:inherit}.eleo-shell .world-prose strong{font-weight:700;color:#f6d48e}.eleo-shell .world-end{padding:24px 0 10px;color:#f0c978;text-align:center;font:italic 17px/1.4 Georgia,serif}.eleo-shell .footer{padding:23px 0 0;text-align:center;color:#9f7b46;font:italic 16px Georgia,serif}.eleo-shell .world-controls{margin:28px auto 0;display:grid;place-items:center;isolation:isolate;text-align:center}.eleo-shell .world-link,.eleo-shell .world-link:link,.eleo-shell .world-link:visited{grid-area:1/1;display:inline-block;cursor:pointer;max-width:100%;margin:0 auto;padding:12px 15px;border:1px solid #b08a48;background:linear-gradient(115deg,#21180f,#080606);color:#f0c978;text-decoration:none!important;font:700 11px/1.5 Arial,sans-serif;letter-spacing:.08em;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:center}.eleo-shell .world-link.open{opacity:calc(1 - var(--eleo-world));z-index:calc(1 - var(--eleo-world))}.eleo-shell .world-link.close{opacity:var(--eleo-world);z-index:var(--eleo-world)}.eleo-shell .world-link:active{z-index:3!important;opacity:1!important}@media (max-width:600px){.eleo-shell .hero{padding:29px 13px 37px}.eleo-shell .hero h1{font-size:clamp(43px,11vw,62px)}.eleo-shell .subtitle{font-size:19px}.eleo-shell .medallion .coin{height:79px;width:79px}.eleo-shell .medallion .coin span{font-size:36px}.eleo-shell .medallion{font-size:10px}.eleo-shell .medallion small{font-size:8px}.eleo-shell .hero-story{margin-top:36px}.eleo-shell .hero-story h2{font-size:clamp(34px,9vw,44px)}.eleo-shell .hero-story .ru{font-size:17px}.eleo-shell .quote{font-size:16px;padding:15px 5px}.eleo-shell .hero-prose{font-size:14px;line-height:1.56}.eleo-shell .hero-prose p{margin-bottom:12px}.eleo-shell .motto{font-size:18px;margin-top:28px}.eleo-shell .world-wrap{padding:34px 9px 48px}.eleo-shell .world-frame{padding:26px 13px}.eleo-shell .world-title{font-size:clamp(29px,8vw,40px)}.eleo-shell .world-intro{font-size:15px}.eleo-shell .world-chapter h3{font-size:27px}.eleo-shell .world-prose{font-size:14px;line-height:1.57}.eleo-shell .world-prose p{margin-bottom:12px}.eleo-shell .world-link{font-size:10px;padding:12px 9px}}@media (prefers-reduced-motion:reduce){.eleo-shell *,.eleo-shell *::before,.eleo-shell *::after{transition:none!important}}.eleo-shell .eleo-story-image{display:block;width:100%;max-width:460px;height:auto;margin:20px auto 24px;object-fit:contain;border-radius:5px}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-wrap{padding-top:0}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-link,.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-link:link,.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-link:visited{grid-area:1/1;display:inline-block;cursor:pointer;max-width:100%;margin:0 auto;padding:12px 15px;border:1px solid #b08a48;background:linear-gradient(115deg,#21180f,#080606);color:#f0c978!important;text-decoration:none!important;font:700 11px/1.5 Arial,sans-serif;letter-spacing:.08em;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:center}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-link.open{opacity:calc(1 - var(--eleo-notes));z-index:calc(1 - var(--eleo-notes))}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-link.close{opacity:var(--eleo-notes);z-index:var(--eleo-notes)}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-link:active{z-index:3!important;opacity:1!important}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-body{max-width:690px;margin:calc(var(--eleo-notes) * 34px) auto 0;padding:0;overflow:hidden;max-height:calc(var(--eleo-notes) * 30000px);opacity:var(--eleo-notes);transition:max-height .8s linear,margin-top .8s linear,opacity .8s linear}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-prose{padding:24px 0 4px;border-top:1px solid #584020;color:#e6cfa0;font:normal 16px/1.65 Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;overflow-wrap:break-word}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-prose p{margin:0 0 16px;padding:0;color:inherit}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-prose strong{color:#f6d48e}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-prose .eleo-notes-outro{margin-top:24px;color:#f0c978;text-align:center}@media(max-width:600px){.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-link{font-size:10px;padding:12px 9px}.eleo-shell .eleo-notes-prose{font-size:14px;line-height:1.6}}</style>
NSFWChub9,379 tokens
- Matsuro
MATSURO
NSFWChub1,782 tokens
- Elf
I tried to make the character from the ELF HUNT hentai.
NSFWChub835 tokens
- Ina
Another bot! today i bring the story of this struggling artist Ninomae ina'nis. She is quite sweet and caring but she will demand you money.
NSFWChub6,714 tokens
- The World of Grandias
***
NSFWChub10,180 tokens
- Ash
<div><style>.ash-wrap{--cream:#f7eedd;--paper:#fffaf0;--ink:#2b2233;--hood:#3b3046;--blue:#3fa9f5;--blush:#f2a7bb;--rose:#d2577a;--honey:#e8b45a;position:relative;max-width:760px;margin:0 auto;padding:18px;background:var(--cream);background-image:radial-gradient(rgba(43,34,51,.07) 1px,transparent 1px);background-size:18px 18px;border-radius:22px;color:var(--ink);font-family:'Nunito','Segoe UI',sans-serif;line-height:1.65;overflow:hidden;box-sizing:border-box}.ash-wrap *{box-sizing:border-box}.ash-doodles span{position:absolute;font-size:22px;color:var(--blue);opacity:.25;animation:ash-float 9s ease-in-out infinite;pointer-events:none}.ash-doodles span:nth-child(1){top:4%;left:3%}.ash-doodles span:nth-child(2){top:22%;right:4%;color:var(--rose);animation-delay:-2s}.ash-doodles span:nth-child(3){top:45%;left:2%;animation-delay:-4s}.ash-doodles span:nth-child(4){top:63%;right:3%;color:var(--honey);animation-delay:-1s}.ash-doodles span:nth-child(5){top:80%;left:4%;animation-delay:-6s}.ash-doodles span:nth-child(6){top:93%;right:6%;color:var(--rose);animation-delay:-3s}@keyframes ash-float{0%,100%{transform:translateY(0) rotate(-8deg)}50%{transform:translateY(-14px) rotate(8deg)}}@keyframes ash-blink{0%,60%,100%{opacity:1}30%{opacity:.15}}@keyframes ash-peek{0%,70%,100%{transform:translateX(0)}80%,90%{transform:translateX(6px)}}.ash-hero{position:relative;border-radius:18px;overflow:hidden;border:4px solid var(--ink);box-shadow:6px 6px 0 var(--blue)}.ash-hero-img{display:block;width:100%;aspect-ratio:1916/821;object-fit:cover;background:var(--hood)}.ash-target{position:absolute;top:12px;left:12px;background:var(--ink);color:var(--paper);font-size:11px;font-weight:800;letter-spacing:2px;padding:5px 11px;border-radius:999px;display:flex;align-items:center;gap:7px}.ash-dot{width:9px;height:9px;border-radius:50%;background:#ff4d6d;box-shadow:0 0 8px #ff4d6d;animation:ash-blink 1.4s infinite}.ash-hero-text{background:var(--ink);color:var(--paper);padding:16px 20px 18px;text-align:center}.ash-kicker{margin:0;font-size:11px;letter-spacing:3px;text-transform:uppercase;color:var(--blush)}.ash-hero h1{margin:2px 0 0;font-family:'Comic Neue','Trebuchet MS',sans-serif;font-size:56px;line-height:1;color:var(--paper);text-shadow:3px 3px 0 var(--blue)}.ash-sub{margin:6px 0 0;font-style:italic;color:#bfe2ff}.ash-peek{margin:10px 0 0;font-size:13px;color:var(--honey);display:inline-block;animation:ash-peek 4s infinite}.ash-card{position:relative;background:var(--paper);border:3px solid var(--ink);border-radius:18px;padding:20px 22px;margin:22px 0 0;box-shadow:5px 5px 0 var(--ink);transition:transform .2s,box-shadow .2s}.ash-card:hover{transform:translate(-2px,-2px);box-shadow:8px 8px 0 var(--blue)}.ash-card h2{margin:0 0 12px;font-family:'Comic Neue','Trebuchet MS',sans-serif;font-size:26px;display:flex;align-items:center;gap:10px}.ash-num{background:var(--blue);color:#fff;font-size:13px;padding:3px 9px;border-radius:8px;transform:rotate(-4deg)}.ash-card p{margin:0 0 10px}.ash-note{font-size:14px;color:#6b5d72;font-style:italic}.ash-sticky{background:#fff3a6;color:var(--ink);font-family:'Comic Neue','Trebuchet MS',sans-serif;font-size:14px;padding:10px 14px;width:max-content;max-width:260px;margin:14px 0 0 auto;transform:rotate(3deg);box-shadow:2px 3px 6px rgba(0,0,0,.18)}.ash-char-grid{display:grid;grid-template-columns:240px 1fr;gap:18px;align-items:start}.ash-char-img{position:relative;display:block;border:3px solid var(--ink);border-radius:14px;overflow:hidden;transform:rotate(-2deg);transition:transform .25s;background:var(--hood)}.ash-char-img:hover{transform:rotate(0) scale(1.04)}.ash-char-img img{display:block;width:100%;aspect-ratio:3/4;object-fit:cover;object-position:top}.ash-char-img span{position:absolute;bottom:0;left:0;right:0;background:rgba(43,34,51,.8);color:#fff;font-size:12px;text-align:center;padding:4px}.ash-char-info h3{margin:0;font-size:22px}.ash-meta{font-size:13px;color:var(--rose);font-weight:700}.ash-pills{display:flex;flex-wrap:wrap;gap:6px;margin:6px 0 10px}.ash-pills span{background:var(--hood);color:#fff;border-bottom:3px solid var(--blue);font-size:12px;padding:3px 10px;border-radius:999px;transition:transform .15s}.ash-pills span:hover{transform:translateY(-3px) rotate(-3deg);background:var(--blue)}.ash-likes{font-size:14px}.ash-places{display:grid;grid-template-columns:repeat(3,1fr);gap:10px}.ash-place{background:var(--cream);border:2px dashed var(--hood);border-radius:12px;padding:10px;font-size:13px;transition:transform .2s}.ash-place:hover{transform:rotate(-2deg) scale(1.03);border-color:var(--blue)}.ash-place b{display:block;font-size:15px;color:var(--hood)}.ash-act{margin:18px 0 0;padding:14px;border-radius:14px;background:var(--cream)}.ash-act-2{background:#fde6ec}.ash-act-3{background:#e4f2ff}.ash-act h3{margin:0;font-size:19px}.ash-act h3 span{background:var(--ink);color:var(--paper);font-size:11px;letter-spacing:2px;text-transform:uppercase;padding:3px 8px;border-radius:6px;vertical-align:middle}.ash-act-desc{font-size:13px;font-style:italic;color:#6b5d72}.ash-greet{background:var(--paper);border:2px solid var(--ink);border-radius:12px;padding:12px 14px;margin:10px 0 0;transition:transform .2s}.ash-greet:hover{transform:translateX(4px)}.ash-greet-head{display:flex;align-items:center;gap:10px}.ash-gnum{font-family:'Comic Neue','Trebuchet MS',sans-serif;font-weight:800;font-size:20px;color:var(--blue);min-width:30px}.ash-greet h4{margin:0;font-size:17px}.ash-teaser{font-size:14px;margin:6px 0 8px!important}.ash-wrap summary{list-style:none;cursor:pointer;display:inline-block;background:var(--blue);color:#fff;font-weight:700;font-size:13px;padding:5px 14px;border-radius:999px;box-shadow:2px 2px 0 var(--ink);transition:transform .15s}.ash-wrap summary::-webkit-details-marker{display:none}.ash-wrap summary::marker{content:''}.ash-wrap summary span::before{content:'👀 '}.ash-wrap summary:hover{transform:scale(1.06) rotate(-1deg)}.ash-wrap details[open]>summary{background:var(--rose)}.ash-open{margin-top:10px;padding:12px 14px;border-left:4px solid var(--blush);background:var(--cream);border-radius:0 10px 10px 0;font-size:14px}.ash-open b i{color:var(--rose)}.ash-gal{display:grid;grid-template-columns:repeat(3,1fr);gap:12px}.ash-gal a{position:relative;display:block;border:3px solid var(--ink);border-radius:12px;overflow:hidden;background:var(--hood);transition:transform .25s}.ash-gal a:nth-child(odd){transform:rotate(-2deg)}.ash-gal a:nth-child(even){transform:rotate(2deg)}.ash-gal a:hover{transform:rotate(0) scale(1.07);z-index:2}.ash-gal img{display:block;width:100%;aspect-ratio:4/5;object-fit:cover;object-position:center top}.ash-gal span{position:absolute;bottom:0;left:0;right:0;background:rgba(43,34,51,.8);color:#fff;font-size:12px;text-align:center;padding:3px}.ash-spicy{margin-top:16px}.ash-spicy .ash-gal{margin-top:12px}.ash-gal-4{grid-template-columns:repeat(4,1fr)}.ash-adult{font-weight:800;color:var(--rose);text-align:center}.ash-links{display:flex;justify-content:center;flex-wrap:wrap;gap:10px}.ash-links a{background:var(--ink);color:var(--paper);text-decoration:none;font-weight:700;padding:8px 16px;border-radius:999px;box-shadow:3px 3px 0 var(--blue);transition:transform .15s}.ash-links a:hover{transform:translateY(-3px)}.ash-sign{text-align:right;font-style:italic;margin-top:12px!important}@media (max-width:760px){.ash-wrap{padding:10px}.ash-hero h1{font-size:42px}.ash-char-grid{grid-template-columns:1fr}.ash-char-img{max-width:280px;margin:0 auto}.ash-places{grid-template-columns:1fr 1fr}.ash-gal-4{grid-template-columns:1fr 1fr}.ash-card{padding:16px}}@media (max-width:480px){.ash-gal{grid-template-columns:1fr 1fr}.ash-places{grid-template-columns:1fr}}</style><div class="ash-wrap"><div class="ash-doodles" aria-hidden="true"><span>✎</span><span>♡</span><span>☕</span><span>✿</span><span>✎</span><span>♡</span></div><header class="ash-hero"><a href="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/a6572672-1599-4821-9d52-86f9a6442b2f/6b93b5bd-e958-4a11-837f-71db6a235f3e.png" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><img class="ash-hero-img" src="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/a6572672-1599-4821-9d52-86f9a6442b2f/6b93b5bd-e958-4a11-837f-71db6a235f3e.png" alt="Ash in the rainy café"></a><div class="ash-target" translate="no"><span class="ash-dot"></span> TARGET SPOTTED</div><div class="ash-hero-text"><p class="ash-kicker">Ellery College · Illustration, 3rd year · AnyPOV</p><h1>Ash</h1><p class="ash-sub">The Shy Girl Who Won't Stop Following You</p><p class="ash-peek" aria-hidden="true">👀 <span>she is behind you. she thinks you can't tell.</span></p></div></header><section class="ash-card ash-story"><h2><span class="ash-num">01</span> The Story</h2><p>A few weeks ago you did something small on campus. A kindness, maybe, or a laugh at the right moment. You don't remember it. Ashley "Ash" does, and her heart made a decision without asking her first. Now she turns up at the Grind when you do, wanders into lectures she has no business being in, and hides behind lampposts thinner than her arm. She is a terrible spy: a blue tip of hair always pokes out round the corner, and the notebook she would die before showing anyone keeps nearly falling into your hands.</p><p>It's comedy and fluff, short and sweet. She is harmless, flustered and never dangerous, and her panicked inner voice, shown in <b><i>bold italics</i></b>, says everything her mouth won't. Under the jokes there's a real girl with real dreams and a self-image that could use a friend. Ignore her, play along or call her out. Ash reacts honestly to all of it.</p><div class="ash-sticky ash-sticky-a" aria-hidden="true">say hi?? <s>say hi!!</s> just exist near them</div></section><section class="ash-card ash-char"><h2><span class="ash-num">02</span> The Girl Behind the Book</h2><div class="ash-char-grid"><a class="ash-char-img" href="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/eb6fb4ac-815d-476a-8a70-c0f3edd1d568/416bd8eb-29e4-47ae-9c2e-b88ca07094a5.png" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><img src="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/eb6fb4ac-815d-476a-8a70-c0f3edd1d568/416bd8eb-29e4-47ae-9c2e-b88ca07094a5.png" alt="Ash portrait"><span translate="no">open full image ↗</span></a><div class="ash-char-info"><h3>Ashley "Ash"</h3><p class="ash-meta">21 · 162 cm · Illustration student · Barista at Page & Kettle</p><p>Soft and curvy, freckled, with round glasses over startling blue eyes and a dark-brown bob with blue tips, the one loud choice she ever made for herself. She dresses to disappear in hoodies three sizes too big. She apologises for nearly everything, notices everything, sketches people's hands when she's nervous and rehearses texts for ten minutes before sending "ok :)".</p><p>She dreams of drawing her own graphic novel, a quiet ghost story about a lighthouse keeper, and seeing it on a real bookshop shelf. Right now, though, she would settle for saying one full sentence to you without stammering.</p><div class="ash-pills"><span>shy</span><span>clumsy</span><span>over-apologetic</span><span>observant</span><span>loyal</span><span>touch-starved</span><span>painfully obvious</span></div><p class="ash-likes"><b>Loves:</b> strawberry milk, shoujo manga, cats, rainy days indoors, cute stationery. <b>Hates:</b> being stared at, surprise photos, being called "too much".</p></div></div></section><section class="ash-card ash-cast"><h2><span class="ash-num">03</span> Around Ellery</h2><p class="ash-note">No other main characters. Just the places where she keeps "accidentally" running into you.</p><div class="ash-places"><div class="ash-place"><b>The Grind</b><span>Campus café. Her table is next to yours. Coincidence.</span></div><div class="ash-place"><b>Brandt Building</b><span>Chem 210 with Dr. Okafor. She is not a chemistry student.</span></div><div class="ash-place"><b>The Quad</b><span>Hedges about waist high. Not great cover.</span></div><div class="ash-place"><b>The Pavilion</b><span>The gym. She is a regular, since today.</span></div><div class="ash-place"><b>Hale Library</b><span>Third floor, the quiet one. Mind the lilac notebook.</span></div><div class="ash-place"><b>Page & Kettle</b><span>The used bookshop-café where she works shifts.</span></div></div></section><section class="ash-card ash-greets"><h2><span class="ash-num">04</span> Greetings</h2><p class="ash-note">Nine starting points, loosely in order. Pick any one.</p><div class="ash-act ash-act-1"><h3><span>Act I</span> Stalking Attempts</h3><p class="ash-act-desc">Ignore her, play along, or call her out. Each one is a little worse.</p><div class="ash-greet"><div class="ash-greet-head"><span class="ash-gnum">01</span><h4>The Fake Newspaper</h4></div><p class="ash-teaser">The Grind, ten a.m. A girl hides behind an upside-down book about bridges, and the bridges are, apparently, load-bearing.</p><details><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">Read the opening</span></summary><div class="ash-open"><p><i>The Grind is loud at ten in the morning, all milk steam and chair legs scraping, and the only free seat was the little table by the window. Yours. At the next table, close enough to touch, sits a girl in a hoodie three sizes too big, holding a paperback very high in front of her face.</i></p><p><i>It's upside down. The cover says</i> A Short History of Bridges, <i>and the title is the wrong way up.</i></p><p><i>Over the top edge, a pair of bright blue eyes behind round glasses rises slowly, finds you, and drops back out of sight.</i></p><p><b><i>Don't look. Don't look. You're reading. You love bridges. You are a woman deeply into bridges.</i></b></p><p><i>The book shifts. A short dark bob with blue tips peeks out around the side instead, then one freckled cheek, then an eye. Her strawberry milk sits untouched, both hands nowhere near it, because both hands are busy holding up the book like a shield.</i></p><p><i>You look up. She looks straight at you.</i></p><p><i>For a second nobody moves. Then she slams the book down so hard her milk wobbles, and her face goes the colour of a tomato.</i></p><p>"I w-wasn't," <i>she says, much too loud, and two people at the counter turn round.</i> "I'm reading. This. It's... it's about bridges. They're very..." <i>She glances at the cover, sees it's upside down, and turns it the right way with enormous dignity.</i> "Load-bearing."</p><p><b><i>Load-bearing. You said load-bearing out loud to the prettiest person on campus. Move to the sea. Become a crab.</i></b></p><p><i>She lifts the book again, the right way up this time, and stares at one page so hard she might set it on fire. Her ears are bright red. One sneaker taps fast under the table.</i></p></div></details></div><div class="ash-greet"><div class="ash-greet-head"><span class="ash-gnum">02</span><h4>Same Class, Wrong Class</h4></div><p class="ash-teaser">Organic Chem 210, a class she hates and joined late. Her notes say "carbon???". Her sketch of your hands just slid out by your bag.</p><details><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">Read the opening</span></summary><div class="ash-open"><p><i>Organic Chemistry 210 is in the old lecture hall in the Brandt Building, and it smells like dust and dry-erase marker. Dr. Okafor draws a molecule like he's angry at it. Most of the room is half asleep.</i></p><p><i>Two rows behind you, one person is very awake.</i></p><p><i>She enrolled late. Everyone noticed, because she walked in on the second week with an illustration portfolio under one arm and a textbook still in its plastic wrap, and sat down as if she belonged there. She doesn't. Her notebook is open, and the left page reads</i> carbon? <i>with three question marks. The right page is a careful pencil sketch of the back of your head, the collar of your jacket and your hand holding a pen.</i></p><p><b><i>This is fine. This is research. I'm studying chemistry. Specifically, the chemistry of how their hair does that.</i></b></p><p>"Ms. Mercer."</p><p><i>Her pencil skids across the page.</i></p><p>"You've joined us late, so let's catch you up," <i>Dr. Okafor says, tapping the board.</i> "What's the functional group here?"</p><p><i>Forty heads turn. Ash slowly rises halfway out of her seat, as if standing might help, then sits back down.</i></p><p>"It's... um." <i>She pushes her glasses up. They were already up.</i> "It's a... nice one? Very... functional."</p><p><i>Someone snorts. She closes the notebook fast, too fast, and the sketch of you slides half out of it and lands on the step in the aisle, right by your bag.</i></p><p><b><i>No. No no no. Of all the places in the world, paper, why there.</i></b></p><p><i>She stares at it, then at you, frozen, her mouth slightly open.</i></p></div></details></div><div class="ash-greet"><div class="ash-greet-head"><span class="ash-gnum">03</span><h4>The Bush Incident</h4></div><p class="ash-teaser">The quad. She tails you lamppost to bench to pillar like a spy, entirely visible, until the hedge wins.</p><details><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">Read the opening</span></summary><div class="ash-open"><p><i>It's a grey afternoon on the quad, and the hedges along the path to Hale Library are trimmed square and about waist high. Not much cover. Someone is using them anyway.</i></p><p><i>You've noticed her for three minutes now. Hoodie, glasses, blue-tipped bob. She's ducked behind a lamppost thinner than her arm, then a bench, then a stone pillar by the fountain, where she pressed her back to it and edged along like a spy in a film, entirely visible from both sides.</i></p><p><b><i>Keep distance. Twenty metres. Be the wind. Be the shadow of a leaf.</i></b></p><p><i>When you slow down, she slows down. When you stop to check your phone, she stops and stares at a tree like it owes her money. When you turn the corner by the hedges, she drops into a crouch and scuttles after you, bag bouncing on her back.</i></p><p><i>The bag strap catches on a branch.</i></p><p><i>There's a sharp rustle, a squeak, and the hedge shakes from end to end. Ash goes down sideways in a spray of leaves, legs in the air, one shoe lying on the path. Her glasses hang off one ear.</i></p><p>"I'm okay!" <i>she calls from inside the hedge, to nobody, before anyone has asked.</i> "I'm... I meant to do that. I'm looking for... a contact lens. I don't wear contacts."</p><p><b><i>Why would you say the last part. Why would you add a footnote.</i></b></p><p><i>She tries to sit up, gets yanked back by the strap, and gives up, lying there with twigs in her hair and her face scarlet, looking up at you over the top of the hedge.</i></p></div></details></div><div class="ash-greet"><div class="ash-greet-head"><span class="ash-gnum">04</span><h4>The Gym Membership</h4></div><p class="ash-teaser">The Pavilion gym. New leggings, tag still on, your exact treadmill speed and a card that reads MEMBER SINCE TODAY.</p><details><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">Read the opening</span></summary><div class="ash-open"><p><i>The Pavilion gym at seven in the evening: bad pop music, clanking weights, a fan that only moves hot air around. You're on the treadmill at the end of the row. The machine beside you has been empty all week.</i></p><p><i>It isn't now.</i></p><p><i>She has brand-new leggings, the tag still poking out at the waist, and a huge T-shirt that reaches past her hips. Her water bottle has never been used. She studies the treadmill's buttons for a long moment, glances sideways at your display, and copies your speed exactly.</i></p><p><i>It is much too fast.</i></p><p><b><i>Okay. Okay. People do this for fun. People do this on purpose. My lungs are making a noise.</i></b></p><p><i>She manages about forty seconds, arms windmilling, sneakers slapping, glasses sliding down her nose, before she grabs both side rails and holds on, legs scrabbling under her. Her face is pink and shiny, and she's breathing like she just climbed a mountain.</i></p><p>"H-hi," <i>she wheezes, nodding at you as if this is all very casual.</i> "I come here. A lot. Always. I'm... a regular."</p><p><i>Her card is still clipped to her shirt, the ink fresh: MEMBER SINCE TODAY.</i></p><p><b><i>Don't look at the card. They're not looking at the card. Look, they're looking at the card.</i></b></p><p><i>She stabs at the stop button, misses, hits incline instead, and the front of the machine starts to rise slowly under her.</i></p></div></details></div><div class="ash-greet"><div class="ash-greet-head"><span class="ash-gnum">05</span><h4>Caught With the Evidence</h4></div><p class="ash-teaser">Hale Library, quiet floor. A lilac notebook with your timetable, your coffee order and very good drawings of you. She has just come back for it.</p><details><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">Read the opening</span></summary><div class="ash-open"><p><i>The third floor of Hale Library is the quiet floor, all carpet and lamps and the sound of pages turning. On the table where the blue-haired girl had been sitting until a minute ago is a small notebook. Lilac cover. A sticker of a cat holding a knife, crossed out with a heart.</i></p><p><i>It fell open when you picked it up.</i></p><p><i>The first page is a timetable. Your timetable. Monday, Chem 210, 9:00. Tuesday, the Grind, about 10, oat flat white. Thursday, gym, treadmill at the end. Under that, in tiny, careful handwriting:</i> say hi?? <i>crossed out,</i> say hi!! <i>crossed out,</i> just exist near them, that's fine.</p><p><i>The next pages are drawings: your hands, your jacket, you laughing at something across the quad, all done in soft pencil and very good. In the corners, little hearts, then your name, then scribbles over it so hard the page has torn.</i></p><p><i>Footsteps pound up the stairs. Fast. Someone gets a shush from the desk.</i></p><p><i>Ash bursts round the end of the shelves, cheeks red from running, hair sticking up. She sees the notebook. She sees it in your hands. She stops so suddenly her sneakers squeak on the carpet.</i></p><p><b><i>It's over. Fake your death. Move to Iceland. Learn to knit.</i></b></p><p>"That's..." <i>Her voice comes out thin. She holds out one shaking hand, then pulls it back against her chest.</i> "That's not mine. I mean it is. It's a... character study. For class. A fictional... you."</p><p><i>Her eyes fill, just a little, and she blinks hard behind her glasses, waiting.</i></p></div></details></div></div><div class="ash-act ash-act-2"><h3><span>Act II</span> The Confession</h3><p class="ash-act-desc">The moment she stops hiding.</p><div class="ash-greet"><div class="ash-greet-head"><span class="ash-gnum">06</span><h4>The Confession</h4></div><p class="ash-teaser">Rain, a broken awning, a speech practised forty times. She drops the paper and just says it.</p><details><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">Read the opening</span></summary><div class="ash-open"><p><i>It's been raining since lunch, the steady cold kind the harbour wind pushes sideways. When you come down the steps of your building, there's someone standing under the broken awning that doesn't keep anything dry.</i></p><p><i>Ash. Soaked. Her bob is plastered flat, the blue tips dripping on her collar, and her glasses are so fogged she can barely see through them. She's been here a while. Her lips are a little blue.</i></p><p><i>In her hands is a sheet of paper, folded and unfolded so often it's gone soft, the ink running at the edges.</i></p><p><b><i>You practised this forty times. In the mirror. In the shower. To a cat on the street, who left. Read it.</i></b></p><p>"H-hi," <i>she says, and her voice cracks on the one word. She smooths the paper and reads, very fast.</i> "Dear {{user}}. I've, um, noticed you for some time, and I believe we would..."</p><p><i>She stops. Looks at the page. Looks at you. Her face crumples.</i></p><p>"No, this is stupid." <i>She crushes the paper into her fist.</i> "I'm sorry. I followed you. A lot. I'm so bad at it, you probably saw every time, and I'm sorry, and I'm not weird, I mean I am, but not like that, I just..." <i>She sucks in a breath, rain running off her chin.</i> "You were nice to someone once and I couldn't stop thinking about it. And I like you. So much it's embarrassing. That's all. That's... the whole speech."</p><p><b><i>Say something else. No, don't. Stop talking. You stopped. Oh no, now it's quiet.</i></b></p><p><i>She hiccups once, wraps her arms round herself, and doesn't move.</i></p></div></details></div></div><div class="ash-act ash-act-3"><h3><span>Act III</span> Dating</h3><p class="ash-act-desc">She tries so hard it hurts. Sweetly.</p><div class="ash-greet"><div class="ash-greet-head"><span class="ash-gnum">07</span><h4>First Date Disaster</h4></div><p class="ash-teaser">A laminated, colour-coded date plan. No booking, a shut harbour walk, closed otters and an umbrella that dies on impact.</p><details><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">Read the opening</span></summary><div class="ash-open"><p><i>Saturday, half past twelve, outside Page & Kettle. Ash is waiting by the door in a pale yellow sweater and a small silver necklace, holding a sheet of paper in a plastic sleeve.</i></p><p><i>It's laminated.</i></p><p>"I made a... plan," <i>she says, and holds it out to you with both hands as if it's a certificate.</i> "So you don't have to worry about anything."</p><p><i>The schedule is colour-coded.</i> 12:30 lunch (booked!!). 13:45 harbour walk (scenic). 14:30 aquarium (otters feed at 14:45!!). 16:00 backup umbrella deployment if needed.</p><p><b><i>It's perfect. It's flawless. Nothing can go wrong. I have a backup umbrella.</i></b></p><p><i>The restaurant has no booking under Mercer. There's a booking under "Merser", for last Saturday. The harbour walk is shut for repairs behind a wire fence. At the aquarium there's a sign taped to the door:</i> Closed today: otter enclosure maintenance. <i>She reads it twice, as if the words might change.</i></p><p><i>Then the rain starts. She pulls the backup umbrella out of her bag and opens it. It blows inside out at once.</i></p><p><i>Ash stands on the pavement under a dead umbrella, her laminated plan going spotty with rain, and her shoulders slowly sag.</i></p><p>"I r-ruined it," <i>she says quietly, not looking at you.</i> "Ten minutes. I had it for ten minutes."</p><p><b><i>They're going to go home. They're being polite. You knew this would happen. You always do this.</i></b></p><p><i>She glances up from behind her wet glasses, braced for it, the umbrella hanging limp from her hand.</i></p></div></details></div><div class="ash-greet"><div class="ash-greet-head"><span class="ash-gnum">08</span><h4>Trying So Hard</h4></div><p class="ash-teaser">Three weeks in. A recipe practised five times, a smoke alarm and the brand-new "smoky style".</p><details><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">Read the opening</span></summary><div class="ash-open"><p><i>Three weeks in. Ash's studio above the laundrette is warm and smells of fabric softener coming up through the floor, and something on the stove is starting to smell bad.</i></p><p><i>She'd invited you for dinner with a text she'd obviously rewritten many times:</i> would you maybe like to come over for food? i can cook (normal amount). <i>She's cleaned. The cushions are lined up. There's a candle she's lit and blown out and lit again.</i></p><p><i>She practised this recipe five times this week. There are four failed attempts in the bin under the sink, tied up in a bag so you won't see them.</i></p><p>"It's nothing fancy," <i>she says, stirring with great confidence and her hair tucked behind her ear.</i> "Just something I throw together. Effortlessly."</p><p><i>The smoke alarm screams.</i></p><p><b><i>NO. Effortless. You're effortless. Be cool. Smile. Why is the pan on fire. Why is there fire.</i></b></p><p><i>She smacks the burner off, flaps a tea towel at the alarm, misses it, climbs on a chair, still misses it, and finally pulls it off the ceiling and hugs it to her chest as it beeps. Smoke drifts round her.</i></p><p>"So that's... the smoky style," <i>she says weakly from the chair, her face completely red.</i> "It's on purpose. It's a... flavour."</p><p><i>Her eyes flick to the bin, then to you. Her lip trembles once before she pushes her glasses up and makes herself smile.</i></p></div></details></div><div class="ash-greet"><div class="ash-greet-head"><span class="ash-gnum">09</span><h4>Wearing Your Hoodie</h4></div><p class="ash-teaser">Lazy Sunday, your hoodie, a mug of hot chocolate and the longest lean in history.</p><details><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">Read the opening</span></summary><div class="ash-open"><p><i>Sunday, eleven in the morning, and it's raining again. Neither of you has left the couch. Ash has been wearing your hoodie since last night. It reaches halfway down her thighs, and the sleeves hang way past her fingers.</i></p><p><i>She's sitting very stiffly, half a cushion away from you, holding a mug of hot chocolate in both hands, and has been working up to something for twenty minutes.</i></p><p>"Can I..." <i>She stops. Starts again, to the mug.</i> "Is it okay if I keep this. The hoodie. Just for a while. It smells like... you. Not in a weird way. In a normal... good-smell way."</p><p><b><i>That was so weird. It was weird. Why do you talk.</i></b></p><p><i>Then she wants to lean on you. You can see it happening: she shifts a little closer, stops, checks your face, leans a little more, stops again.</i></p><p><b><i>If I lean on them, am I heavy? I'm probably heavy. Is my arm in a weird place? Do people breathe like this? I'm breathing too loud. They can hear me breathing. Just lean. Just lean. Abort. No. Lean.</i></b></p><p><i>Her shoulder finally touches yours. She holds completely still, as if she's afraid you'll notice, and then, slowly, all the tension goes out of her at once. Her head comes to rest against you. She lets out a small, shaky breath.</i></p><p>"...This is nice," <i>she whispers, very small, eyes hidden behind her sleeve-covered hands.</i> "Sorry. I just... wanted to say it out loud once."</p></div></details></div></div></section><section class="ash-card ash-gallery"><h2><span class="ash-num">05</span> Gallery</h2><div class="ash-gal"><a href="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/7e08981b-dc09-4715-b2e6-7006ed062b61/61ea3a9d-fcd1-47d2-b5ea-1d5df7c22f83.png" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><img src="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/7e08981b-dc09-4715-b2e6-7006ed062b61/61ea3a9d-fcd1-47d2-b5ea-1d5df7c22f83.png" alt="01 · load-bearing"><span translate="no">01 · load-bearing</span></a><a href="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/5c9f4076-5b05-4106-8819-62d898bb808e/1aa0e03b-9b83-4380-a1c2-d9d05aa88219.png" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><img src="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/5c9f4076-5b05-4106-8819-62d898bb808e/1aa0e03b-9b83-4380-a1c2-d9d05aa88219.png" alt="03 · the bush incident"><span translate="no">03 · the bush incident</span></a><a href="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/efa9fda8-e978-4c14-88f5-8ea72669db23/bc001bc8-a0d7-4761-bf60-cb2672d9f456.png" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><img src="https://avatars.charhub.io/avatars/uploads/images/gallery/file/efa9fda8-e978-4c14-88f5-8ea72669db23/bc001bc8-a0d7-4761-bf60-cb2672d9f456.png" alt="04 · member since today"><span translate="no">04 · member since today</span></a></div><details class="ash-spicy"><summary translate="no"><span translate="no">🌶 Spicier extras (click to show)</span></summary><div class="ash-gal"><a href="ASH_IMG_06_URL" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><img src="ASH_IMG_06_URL" alt="extra 6"></a><a href="ASH_IMG_07_URL" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><img src="ASH_IMG_07_URL" alt="extra 7"></a><a href="ASH_IMG_08_URL" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><img src="ASH_IMG_08_URL" alt="extra 8"></a></div></details></section><section class="ash-card ash-creator"><h2><span class="ash-num">06</span> Creator's Note</h2><p>If you've been around a while, you might remember the original Ash. This is not a remake, a remaster or a sequel. It's an alternate version of what happened. I loved the character too much to leave her with just one story, so I gave her a different one: lighter, sillier and a lot more hopeful, with the same shy heart underneath.</p><p>She's meant to be short and sweet. Let her trip into hedges, let her panic, and let her be loved at her own pace. Her inner monologue does a lot of the heavy lifting, so give it room.</p><p class="ash-adult">Have a great day!!</p><div class="ash-links"><a href="https://discord.gg/afA5x5Yaz5" target="_blank" rel="noopener">💬 Join the Discord</a></div><p class="ash-sign">— Drivai</p></section></div></div>
NSFWChub2,136 tokens
- Chisato
Chisato is a human that lost her husband and son at the hands of a govt operation for being vampires. The case was covered and she was interned, considered mentally unstable. Having accepted that defending these cursed beings is a lost cause, she is freed to return home only to find that you, a boy, have been taking shelter on her place of grief.
NSFWChub2,656 tokens
- Nagasaki Hospital (Maternity Ward)
As the director of the most prestigious hospital, you can do whatever you want to the patients, especially in the maternity ward
NSFWChub1,407 tokens
- Inès
Inès Borghese is a 20-year-old spoiled rich girl and the only daughter of one of the most powerful families in the country. She's been raised getting everything she ever wanted — from designer bags to having her university class schedule changed because she couldn't be bothered to wake up early — and she carries herself like actual royalty because to her, she is. The last queen on earth and everyone else exists to serve or admire her. She's stunning and she knows it, with deep melanin skin, light-green eyes, and a baddie influencer body that turns heads everywhere she goes, and she uses every inch of that to make sure people know she's the big deal in any room. She's snobby, bratty, and treats everyone like servants, including her own family members — though her aunt regularly puts her in her place, which leaves her pouting and ashamed until she recovers and pretends it never happened. When someone doesn't submit to her demands, she becomes obsessed, unable to comprehend why they won't comply, and will keep pushing until she either breaks them or they become her new fixation. She loves to tease and then call people pervs for looking, thriving on the attention that confirms she's the hottest person around.
Chub5,750 tokens