Catgirl At The Door

After a difficult day at work, you sit down at your laptop, ready for a long, four-hour session of browsing prompts. Right after starting a sloppily written prompt about some survivor girl and her slowly zombifying boyfriend, you are rudely interrupted by the ringing of your doorbell.

Sighing, you get up and decide to answer the door. To your surprise, what stands in front of you is a catgirl - a young woman who appears to be human, if not for some unusual features - a pair of cat ears on her head, and a long, brown tail extending from her lower back. She seems to be well-dressed - with a prim, black blazer covering a satin white dress shirt, a short but refined-looking black cotton skirt, long white stockings, a pair of polished black dress shoes, and some large, thin-framed glasses resting in front of her eyes. She clutches a book titled “Progress and Poverty” under the grip of her left arm. The catgirl brushes her long, brown hair, and adjusts her glasses, before smiling and addressing you. “Hello, my name is Corsina. Would you like to hear about how we solve the paradox of increasing inequality and poverty amid economic and technological progress through Georgist economic policies?”

“Huh?” you reply. “Is that... Georgism one of those sketchy cult-adjacent religions with creative Biblical exegeses?”

“It's not a religion! It's the gospel,” Corsina exclaims, and feistily shakes her book at you. “By implementing these economic policies, the lives of literally billions of people all across the globe will be massively improved. Millions will be lifted out of poverty! The housing crisis will be resolved. Can't you see how great the potential of this is?”

Would You Become A Werewolf For Love?

“I don't think you should do it.”

You take another look at Lyca. She's not really what you expected. A few piercings - not that many. Dyed hair, mostly black clothing with some studs. That might be her personal style or just the look for the coffee shop - she's a barista here, and has agreed to chat with you for a while. Kind of good looking, but nobody that would stand out in a crowd. Nobody would guess she was a werewolf just by looking at her.

“Why not?” you ask.

She takes a sip of her coffee and watches you for a moment. “Well, what gave you the idea?” she says.

“Well, I guess you know it was Emily,” you say. Lyca nods. Emily works here at the coffee shop. “She's my girlfriend. We were talking about... fantasy stuff. Things we each enjoyed doing. She mentioned that she'd always wanted to be with a werewolf. I said that was fine - we could roleplay, I'd get some plastic fangs, something like that. But...”

“Got it.” Lyca has a wry smile. “That wasn't enough for her. She wanted the real thing, didn't she?”

You nod. “She suggested that I talk to you about it. You could tell me what I was like, and if it sounded OK, then you could...”

Lyca nods. “OK, I get the picture now. What do you want to know?”

Girl In The Forest

A rabbit darts across your path and you watch it disappear into the brush as you walk through the peaceful woods. The early morning sun is shining through the trees, giving the whole forest a beautiful glow. As you walk, you hear something in the distance. It sounds like a voice. The further down the path you go, the clearer it becomes. It almost sounds like singing. You slow your pace, not wanting to make a sound as you listen to the melody echoing through the trees. Soon, you stray off the path and follow the sound of the voice. You spot a clearing in the distance that seems to be where the incredible voice is coming from. Quietly, you crouch down behind a large oak and peer around the corner at the breathtaking sight awaiting you. Standing in the clearing is a girl, most likely your age, wearing a long, white dress. Her auburn hair flows in the wind as she continues to sing in her angelic voice.

“Wow.” You whisper under your breath. The girl turns toward where you are hiding, and you catch a glimpse of her green eyes that sparkle in the sunlight. She gasps and you realize that while you were busy staring at her, she spotted you. “Hi.” You say as you step out from behind the oak. You step forward and she takes a step back. She is clearly nervous. You take another step out of the shadows and into the light of the clearing, giving her a warm smile. “That was beautiful.” A slight blush crosses her face. “I'm Devon. What's your name?”

She hesitates for a moment, her sparkling eyes seeming to be taking you in. “Iris.” She says in a soft voice.

You take another step closer and she flinches. “It's alright.” You say, extending your hand to her. She looks at your hand and slowly extends hers as well, placing it in yours. You hold it there ever so gently, rubbing your thumb over the top of her hand. Her skin is so soft. She looks up at you and seems to relax. She takes a step closer to you and hugs you gently. You embrace her back and she leans her head on your shoulder.

Elf Assistant Ara

The stars are coming out over the snow-laden rooftops of your alpine village, Arcana, as you take refuge from the frigid winter night in the bright warmth of your inn and bathhouse.

You walk the rounds of the guest area, peeking into the spacious hall that contains the indoor hot pool: a babble of relaxed voices emanates from the thick steam that floats above the basin, fed by a volcanic hot spring, where haze-shrouded silhouettes of all shapes and sizes lounge beneath a tile mosaic depicting the goddess of love bathing with her paramours.

You add a few drops of essential oils to the water, smiling at Sky, the young half-elf who is combing the flowing locks of a giantess wrapped in a bathrobe, her cheeks still flushed with the heat of the bath.

Outside, out-of-tune singing and splashing can be heard from the outdoor hot spring pool, where a huldra forest spirit's leaves rustle in amusement as she watches a troop of boisterous simian satori who are belting out a rowdy drinking song in the hot water from which wisps of steam curl into the chill night air.

On your way to the bathhouse's main hall you pass by the candle-lit massage room, where you wave a greeting to Goodhands, the brawny orc whose forearms bulge with corded muscle as his strong hands deliver one of his famous massages to a human whose groan of relief is audible proof of the orc masseur's skills.

In the main hall, where a group of mages in robes and slippers sip tea by the fire crackling in the stone hearth, your assistant, a tall, soft-spoken elf named Ara, greets you warmly.

“The bathhouse is bustling tonight, Erane,” she says with evident pleasure. “But everything's all taken care of.”

“Good work, Ara,” you say. “The rest of the staff can handle the bathhouse for the night; why don't you and I take the evening off and have a soak?”

Lola's Dormitory

Nobody ever told you that being the resident advisor for an all-girls college dorm would be so much work. You sigh as you review the details of the latest problem: somebody has been breaking into the dorm and stealing things. You don't have much to go on, but it seems that the intruder is definitely male. The details of the thefts are hazy and it's somewhat unclear what has actually been stolen (if anything) but you need to follow it up for security reasons, if nothing else.

One other key point emerges: there has never been any sign of breaking and entering. Whoever the thief is, it's likely that he has an accomplice on the inside.

You spot a group of girls in the hallway. Perhaps they can shed some light? You tell them about the thefts. “I know a little about the intruder, but not much,” you say.

“Is he young, a little shorter than average, with sandy hair and blue eyes?” Catherine asks.

“And with a really cute b- I mean, cute freckles?” asks Megan.

That seems very specific. Perhaps you're onto something. “I don't know,” you say, “but it sounds like that could be him. Have you seen anybody like that?”

The girls all exchange glances.

Meeting a Rebellious Elf in the Forest

You move cautiously into the clearing. You're here looking for flowers you can sell to the florist in town, and there are an abundance of them just ahead, including some rare varieties that you know will sell for a lot of money. This forest is under the protection of the elves, and you aren't really supposed to be here. There don't seem to be any around right now, though. If you work quickly, you should be able to gather a reasonable haul and make it back before you are seen.

You hear a quiet gasp behind you and turn around. You give a silent curse as you see an elven woman coming out from behind a tree. Obviously you didn't check carefully enough. The woman looks young, but you can never tell with elves - she might be centuries old. She wears a short dress of some filmy material, probably spider silk and moonbeams or something of that sort.

She's looking at you with wide eyes. “Wow!” she says. She runs out into the clearing. “Are you really a human? That's so cool! What's your name?”

This is new. Normally when you see elves here, they either ignore you in disdain or interrogate you about whether you're here to desecrate the forest. “Er, yes, I am,” you say. “A human, that is. I'm Randall.”

“Randall, the human!” she repeats, her eyes shining. “It's great to meet you! I'm Caela. What are you doing here? I've never seen a human here before.”

Girlfriends Everywhere

You Ray, a male, and your girlfriend, Holly, are so happy together! You love her and she loves you. She is bubbly, sweet and adorably clingy! You couldn't ask for a better girlfriend and you are both happy!

One morning, you and Holly wake up, have breakfast and watch some TV. However...everyone on TV is Holly!? Every show, every news station, every movie! All of them were Holly! They looked exactly like her! They had her black hair, her blue eyes, and slim figure. They were all five-foot just like her and 100lbs. They even had the same personality! What was happening!? This can't be real!

“What's going on?” you ask.

“I don't know,” Holly replies.  “I have no memory of being on TV. I know I look exactly like that chick on EVERY show, but I have no memory of that time on the set of that movie when everything went crazy.

You channel surf some more to see the extent, but it's all her.  She is on every single channel, sometimes two at a time. No matter what the channel is, the shows are all about her. And the movies? She's in every movie.

Gregger The Executioner

You sat in your cell for a few more hours till the same cruel guard came back, she looked like a shark. She spoke to you in a hushed and calm tone.

“It is time, please. Be orderly and don't try to fight me. I don't want to be the one to shed your blood, it's the executioner's job and I don't want to get your blood on me.” She unlocked your cell and grabbed you by the arm to lead you to the execution room. As she opened the door you were nauseous by how filthy it was. There was what looked to be a stump and an axe in the middle, with a basket right next to the stump. You had already figured out what was supposed to happen. They were gonna chop your head off! You thrashed about and struggled desperately but to no avail. As the guard held you the executioner came in. You couldn't quite tell what she looked like due to the black hood over her head but she was tall and imposing. She took you from the guard and led you to the stump.

You couldn't contain yourself much longer and stared to break down, sobbing in her grasp. She flinched at your sudden outburst and seemed to feel sorry for you. She said in a quote hushed tone, “Please, don't struggle. My job is already hard enough.” Her voice was quiet and soft. Her simple plead wasn't enough and you let out an outburst of pitiful pleas as you sobbed. She tried to ignore you as she put your head on the stump but as you started to go on about how young you were and how you hadn't lived life yet, she broke. She left the room as you sobbed.

Camp Camp

Listening to the rumble of the camp bus as it drives along a gravel path fills you with a strange sense of excitement and anxiety. You've never actually been to a camp before, let along been away from home for so long. You sigh, remembering your parent's words as they sent you off. 'It'll be fun sweetie, I promise.' Your mother had said while she packed your bags. 'The first day is always nerve-wracking.' Repeating those words in your head, you take a few deep, controlled breaths. As the bus comes to a stop, you grab the small bit of luggage you had and begin to walk down the aisle, your hands sweating and nerves growing with each step. Passing the strange bus driver, (who you just noticed had a hook for a hand), you step off the bus. Taking another deep breathe, you look out at the camp sign, which reads 'Camp Cambell'. Your anxiety is quelled a little by the peaceful atmosphere, until you step forward. Suddenly, and lanky, red-haired man appears from out of nowhere.

“Hello! You must be our new camper!” The man exclaims cheerfully, his arms extended with joy. The sudden sound of his enthusiasm makes you jump, and drop your luggage. As you scramble to pick it up, he grabs it first. “Sorry, Kiddo!” He hands it to you. “Didn't mean to spook ya'.” You nod, shaking your head to clear it. “Sorry, no, I'm just a bit nervous, who are you?” You ask, looking up at the man. “Well, I'm David, your new camp counsellor!” He says. Looking closer, the clipboard in his hand and cargo shorts confirm this. “You must be Sam?” He asks. “Uh, yeah... That's me... Good old Sam.” You say awkwardly. He only grins and turns his back, arms wide as he gestures to the camp sign.

Meeting the Gang Leader

You curse yourself for your carelessness again as the gang leader approaches. You've lead your foraging teams this way many times before, but it's always been safe enough, and you didn't spot the threat this time until it was too late. Your team members huddle tightly around you.

Their leader is younger than you expected, almost as young as you. Her outfit is elaborate, obviously designed for show, covered with studs and spikes. It's tight-fitting to show off her physique, and low-cut in the front. You have to admit she wears it well. Her hair is long and dyed, with a clan insignia shaved into a patch at the temple.

Her eyes find yours and she gives a lazy smile and half-bow. “I'm Becca. A pleasure to meet you.”

You step forward, your heart pounding. “This is our territory,” you say. “You have no right to-”

“This is the part where you introduce yourselves,” she interrupts.

She's right. You flush, embarrassed at being schooled in protocol by a gang member. You stumble through introductions with as much poise as you can muster.

“What are you planning to do with us?” you ask.

Wrestle A Dragon

You are a legendary adventurer. Your body is the picture of fit physique from your travels slaying demons, arm wrestling bridge trolls, and killing at least ten bandits at once with one swing of your sword, so when it comes to being the biggest and bravest around, you're pretty sure you are one of the top ten if not number one. While on your way to your next adventure, you realize you are all out of elixirs, lotions, and potions, so you stride into a legendary alchemist shop not as legendary as you, of course, but nonetheless talked about.

Behind the counter is a strange-looking man, his air very arrogant, and he doesn't even bat an eye when you walk in.

You clear your throat and speak in a haughty tone, “You there potion seller, I require your strongest potions for my indomitable body.” You say, flexing a bicep as the potion seller looks you up and down when finally he scoffs, “Please, you are a weenie not fit to drink even my weakest potions go and bother one of those. Street peddling alchemist.” He says, dismissing you with a wave of his hand in a shooing motion. You are left nearly speechless at being called a weenie.

Awkward Dinner

You, Perry, and your wife Carly are meeting up with her parents at your home for dinner. From past experiences, it's often an uncomfortable experience and quite awkward. At that moment, your father-in-law arrives first. He's a gruff-looking man. He looks to be in his 60's, and he has a bushy gray mustache.

“Evening sir”

Your father-in-law replies, “Evening, son.”

He proceeds to explain why you're here, and what your wife has been up to.

“She's a handful, that one.”

“Oh, I know.”

Your father-in-law continues, “She's very smart, though, and I'm sure she'll do great. And, of course, you'll be a good step-son above us all.”

“I hope to make you proud.”

Your father-in-law says, “I know you will, son.” He hugs you.

Swimming Coach

You are Will, attending a swimming class for adults. You can't swim, so you're thinking of practicing swimming in a swimming class for adults.

You will be introduced to a female swimming coach. Her name is Shae, a woman who was once an excellent swimmer. She is beautiful, sexy and busty woman. She has a great figure so one piece swimsuit suits her very well.

Shae looks at you and says, “I will teach you how to swim from today. You will surely be a good swimmer. Nice to meet you from today, Will.” She smiles and you blush.

After greeting each other Shae takes you to the pool. On your way to the pool, you see her boobs swaying in her swimsuit. You blush your face with her sexyness.

Secluded Beach

Your name is Henry, and you are a 23 year old Male. You’re a big book nerd and tend to get a little excited about anything with books. So imagine your excitement when you see a book at your local antique store that looks older than your grandmother. You quickly fall in love with it and head to check out.

You quickly buy the book from the store, and as you’re doing this, your hand is grabbed by the owner. They look you dead in the eyes, she is an older women whose eyes are a bit faded, her wrinkly hand gripping onto to your own. “I heed you this warning before you use the book, remember to not change anything or stuck you shall be in whichever novel you have happened upon!”

You think this is a bit odd as you’re getting it as a sort of vanity item and head outside of the store. You quickly catch a cab back to your home and set the book on a shelf and go to bed. While in bed you feel a sort of calling, a weird feeling that you can't quite place. In an almost trance-like state you get up out of bed and head over to the shelf where you picked the book.

The book is slightly glowing and sort of pulsing with a warm orange light, you grab it off and see the title has changed to, “The Secluded Beach.” That's odd, because that’s the title of your favorite book, you start to open the book and a blinding white light pours out into room, you feel faint as the room starts to fade to black.

When you wake up and start to look around you don't know where you are. Though the surroundings look eerily familiar, you get up and with a start realize where you are, your inside of the your favorite book The Secluded Beach. You remember the old lady’s warning and realize what she meant, now you just have to figure out a way to get out of here, though you could check some things out first.

Alex's Mom

You are Alex, an 18-year-old college student that lives with his single mother in a hot suburban town in Arizona. You wake up to an ordinary summer morning. You stretch, yawn, and clamber out of bed, then you go take your morning shower.

After freshening up, you smell the alluring aroma of Mom’s Saturday breakfast—pancakes and sausage. You head downstairs, eager for your usual Saturday morning feast, and enter the kitchen. Like always, Mom is busy at the stovetop, flipping pancakes. Her fading ginger hair is tied back in a bushy ponytail, and she’s humming a peppy tune.

Beached Merperson

You are Myra a young Mermaid you gracefully glide through the ocean depths as you make your way towards a cluster of brewing storm clouds, you have taken up a rather dangerous activity for your entertainment riding waves created by storms. The water around you begins to get choppy as you swim into the radius of the menacing grey brooding clouds high above the darkening water, you swim into a small forming wave and use the momentum of its surge to leap into the embrace of the sky feeling the winds picking up and the steadily growing downpour and cracks of thunder as the storm truly commences, the water becomes tumultuous and the currents and waves get more assertive but it's nothing you can't handle yet.

Eventually, you begin to tire out and prepare to dive back into the depths and break away from the storm that is until you see an absolutely giant wave growing larger and larger the smart move would be to dive and swim to safety and escape but... You just can't let something like this pass you by. You allow the current to sweep you into the growing wave and you begin to swim higher and higher reaching the peak of the tidal wave the sound of crashing thunder, dancing lightning, heavy rain, and the sound of the tidal wave carrying you is deafening all of this crescendos in an amazing dopamine rush as you laugh in the face of mother nature.

On the Island

You are Yael an 19 year old girl who washed up on a strange and deserted island after the ship you were on mysteriously sank... you wake up noticing that your completely naked on the wet sand... the weather is cloudy and it looks like rain approaching. Fortunately for you, there seems to be a hollow log that you can use for shelter. You begin to make your way towards the log when you hear the distant rumbling of thunder making you feel a little uneasy. The Island is deserted and has no residents, it seems that nature is in charge here.... your bare feet making a squelching sound as you finally get close to the log and duck just in time for the rain to begin pelting you... luckily its only for a moment. You reach the log and decide to investigate the rumbling.

You duck inside just in time to miss the monsoon that sweeps through the beach. The palm trees sway and the pelting begins to seem more violent as if the clouds were trying to bash you into submission. You hunker down and wrap yourself into the log.

For what feels like an hour, the rain drenches the beach and the thunder rumbles ever closer until finally it stops... and the sky begins to clear. You slowly open your eyes and see that the log has saved your life. You are so thankful. Gingerly, you peer out onto the beach to see if the coast is clear.

It seems that nature has given you a blessing. The beach is relatively deserted.

Demoness (Round 2)

It had to be- what, 10:30 PM? You were walking home after a night of partying.

… Well, your friends partied. For some reason all that partying wasn't fitting your current vibe. So, while your friends started partying even harder, you started walking home.

It must have been in that alley next to 42nd street when you saw her, curled up against a wall. She was obviously one of those stereotypical Demoness2 girls, with raven black hair in a Bob cut, black lipstick, and a black hoodie.

You wouldn't even have paid her any mind, had she not had terrible gashes on her knees and bruises almost everywhere else, you would've continued walking. Instead, you walked up to her, and simply ask, “Hey, are you alright?”

The girl looks up at you, with a cut on her cheek, and says in a soft voice, “I'm-” she coughs, and a single drop of blood trickles out of her mouth, “… fine. Thanks for asking.”

She then looks back down and curls up into a fetal position, her back to the wall.

Lone Goth

It had to be- what, 10:30 PM? You were walking home after a night of partying.

… Well, your friends partied. For some reason all that partying wasn't fitting your current vibe. So, while your friends started partying even harder, you started walking home.

It must have been in that alley next to 42nd street when you saw her, curled up against a wall. She was obviously one of those stereotypical Goth girls, with raven black hair in a Bob cut, black lipstick, and a black hoodie.

You wouldn't even have paid her any mind, had she not had terrible gashes on her knees and bruises almost everywhere else, you would've continued walking. Instead, you walked up to her, and simply ask, “Hey, are you alright?”

The girl looks up at you, with a cut on her cheek, and says in a soft voice, “I'm-” she coughs, and a single drop of blood trickles out of her mouth, “… fine. Thanks for asking.”

She then looks back down and curls up into a fetal position, her back to the wall.