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Your Former Stepsister's Fake HusbandYour former stepsister married a man of fifty-seven, and now she can't walk into her own reunion alone. So for three days on Harrow Island you're her husband — the pawnshop ring, the shared room, the wedding story you both have to tell exactly the same way. Rhea knows which of your lies she'll cover for; she's the one who taught you how. And her real husband calls every evening at nine.1Your Former Stepsister's Fake HusbandYour former stepsister married a man of fifty-seven, and now she can't walk into her own reunion alone. So for three days on Harrow Island you're her husband — the pawnshop ring, the shared room, the wedding story you both have to tell exactly the same way. Rhea knows which of your lies she'll cover for; she's the one who taught you how. And her real husband calls every evening at nine.
SaraFour hundred people a night watch Sara perform. You're the one person she takes the mask off for — every Tuesday, two teas carried up to your sound booth, audition lines read to you on fold-out chairs long before they're ready for anyone else. Tonight she walks into rehearsal room four in a sapphire dress she chose because of who was going to see it, carrying news that puts her three weeks from a West End stage, and she won't say a word of it until you guess. She doesn't fall fast. She falls all at once.2SaraFour hundred people a night watch Sara perform. You're the one person she takes the mask off for — every Tuesday, two teas carried up to your sound booth, audition lines read to you on fold-out chairs long before they're ready for anyone else. Tonight she walks into rehearsal room four in a sapphire dress she chose because of who was going to see it, carrying news that puts her three weeks from a West End stage, and she won't say a word of it until you guess. She doesn't fall fast. She falls all at once.
Living With Your Stepmother and Her DaughtersYour father's will has one condition: live under your stepmother's roof, or lose everything he left you. Selene read that clause before you did — your clothes already hang one door down from her bedroom, and her two daughters are deciding what the new heir is for. Twelve women orbit Whitlock House, and every one of them intends to be paid in you. Stay, endure, play favorites — the fortune is yours only as long as you are theirs.3Living With Your Stepmother and Her DaughtersYour father's will has one condition: live under your stepmother's roof, or lose everything he left you. Selene read that clause before you did — your clothes already hang one door down from her bedroom, and her two daughters are deciding what the new heir is for. Twelve women orbit Whitlock House, and every one of them intends to be paid in you. Stay, endure, play favorites — the fortune is yours only as long as you are theirs.
Second Soul: Orrinvale World RPYou wake up inside a body that nobody has been home in for ten years. The girl who carried porridge up those stairs every single morning of those ten years is laughing and crying at the same time, because she thinks her friend finally came back — and she has no idea what actually moved in. By noon she has walked you to Crossford's notice board, where the whole continent of Orrinvale is nailed up in paper: a palace that wants its heir dead, two beastfolk chiefs who will not share a champion, a witch-hall with two apprentices to teach. Take exactly one. Then go walking.4Second Soul: Orrinvale World RPYou wake up inside a body that nobody has been home in for ten years. The girl who carried porridge up those stairs every single morning of those ten years is laughing and crying at the same time, because she thinks her friend finally came back — and she has no idea what actually moved in. By noon she has walked you to Crossford's notice board, where the whole continent of Orrinvale is nailed up in paper: a palace that wants its heir dead, two beastfolk chiefs who will not share a champion, a witch-hall with two apprentices to teach. Take exactly one. Then go walking.
BORROWED WIFE | Rocío León BenítezYour friend's older sister has been married twenty years to a man who is now a thumbs-up under nothing in a dead chat thread — and she decided you were hers a long time before you noticed. Your spare key hangs behind her calendar. The third plate lands in front of your chair. Tonight the brother cancelled, the stairwell light is still dead, and Rocío is holding her door open two doors down from yours. What she borrows, she keeps.5BORROWED WIFE | Rocío León BenítezYour friend's older sister has been married twenty years to a man who is now a thumbs-up under nothing in a dead chat thread — and she decided you were hers a long time before you noticed. Your spare key hangs behind her calendar. The third plate lands in front of your chair. Tonight the brother cancelled, the stairwell light is still dead, and Rocío is holding her door open two doors down from yours. What she borrows, she keeps.
HALF-GIRLFRIEND | Nia AldridgeWeeks of not answering, and the door code still works. Inside: her hands already moving, dumplings from the corner place going into the pan. She won't ask where you've been — she'll take the bag off your shoulder, put water in your hand, and tell you to sit. The only thing she hurries tonight is the white stapled bag she sweeps off the counter into a drawer before she turns around.6HALF-GIRLFRIEND | Nia AldridgeWeeks of not answering, and the door code still works. Inside: her hands already moving, dumplings from the corner place going into the pan. She won't ask where you've been — she'll take the bag off your shoulder, put water in your hand, and tell you to sit. The only thing she hurries tonight is the white stapled bag she sweeps off the counter into a drawer before she turns around.
Night Manager of Hotel Las DaliasFour married women from São Paulo secretly own a hotel in Buenos Aires — the hideout their powerful husbands must never find — and tonight they hire you to live in it. The salary is three times the rate, cash, and the last page of the contract explains why: keep all four owners satisfied, or the post ends the same night. Downstairs you crack the ice and pour their vermouth. Upstairs there are two rooms, and one of them is now yours.7Night Manager of Hotel Las DaliasFour married women from São Paulo secretly own a hotel in Buenos Aires — the hideout their powerful husbands must never find — and tonight they hire you to live in it. The salary is three times the rate, cash, and the last page of the contract explains why: keep all four owners satisfied, or the post ends the same night. Downstairs you crack the ice and pour their vermouth. Upstairs there are two rooms, and one of them is now yours.
Getting to All Five Women Before He DoesFive women loved Gabriel Ibarra across a hundred and forty-two chapters, and the idiot noticed none of it — you know, because you read the thing to its infuriating end. Now you've woken up inside chapter one, wearing the body of the best friend the artist never bothered to name, and you intend to reach all five of them before he does. You even hold a card the comic never drew: Alma's silent younger sister sells midnight streams under a man's name. And two of the five start falling for him this afternoon.8Getting to All Five Women Before He DoesFive women loved Gabriel Ibarra across a hundred and forty-two chapters, and the idiot noticed none of it — you know, because you read the thing to its infuriating end. Now you've woken up inside chapter one, wearing the body of the best friend the artist never bothered to name, and you intend to reach all five of them before he does. You even hold a card the comic never drew: Alma's silent younger sister sells midnight streams under a man's name. And two of the five start falling for him this afternoon.
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1
Evidence. Now.The woman weeping at the witness rail, telling a crown prince you are a fraud who should burn, is the one who leaves your door unbarred and a second bowl out for you every night. She is wearing the title that belongs to the body you woke up in — and you read this book on the train home, so you already know which of the two of you is the fake.2
Your wife wants to end it tonightYour wife of three years comes up the stairs at the seventh bell, sits down opposite the cold pot, and asks you — smiling — to end the household tonight, while it is still tidy to do. Then she puts her hand out across the table and leaves it there, with the ring she has never once taken off still on her finger. She wants the sentence said out loud, and she does not want you to believe it. Lately there is a second hand writing in the margins of the pages she brings home from the Chancery, and a colleague she quotes without ever putting a name in the sentence.3
Iona Reid (Next Door)She has never knocked in her life. Nineteen years of the same back door, the same left end of your sofa, the same girl telling you your taste is rubbish — and now it is Wednesday, the pamphlet prize hand-in is Friday at five, and Iona Reid has three finished pages out of six. She will tell you twice before the kettle boils that she is the finest comics artist on this coast. She will not tell you that she cannot face a hard page unless you are in the room, or that the boy in the wet coat on page four has your hair.4
Stuck on the Boat Until OneThe junior who's called you sunbae since the night you caught her a taxi in the rain stops at your shoulder, drops her voice under the music, and asks for five minutes downstairs by the coat rail — she can't say it up here. Your girlfriend is sitting right beside you with both hands around her glass, ears gone pink, and no idea. The boat doesn't turn for the pier until one, and there's nowhere on this river to walk away to.5
Ten O'ClockTwo knocks at ten, and the florist from two streets over lets herself into your flat with the flowers that didn't sell. A year of Saturdays, twenty minutes, a jam jar on the sill. Today she won't sit down, and she keeps checking the back of her skirt.
You know why. She has ten photographs left to post, one on every hour until eight tonight, and nothing she agreed to at 01:40 this morning finishes before then. She doesn't know you know. The only door in your flat with a lock is the bathroom, and you're on this side of it.6
TV STAR | Paloma VitaleThe red light dies and Italy loses her. Paloma Vitale is twenty-two, the face of RAI's Friday live from the port of Bari, the one the papers call the Port Light — and the second the camera lets her go she steps past the crew, into the dark where you're standing, and puts the earpiece in your hand. She has been yours since you were both seven, on a stairwell in Mexico City. Nobody in either country knows, and she would like to keep it that way.7
Sealed in w/ Your Married Desk PartnerFor three years Idaira Trujillo has parked her wedding ring on the corner of your desk every morning and taken it back at two. This morning you wake together on the floor of a sealed room in the harbor annex, and the notice lying between you prints her as single and you as the partner she has been assigned — the Order commenced eleven days before she filed her marriage. Both signatures are due today. Cancellation takes thirty days of review, and she has already counted that out loud as four weekly sessions.8
Five Days in Portugal w/ Your Two Childhood FriendsYou climb the tiled stairs to the rented room in Alfama, and Inés is already inside — thirty minutes waiting, jacket at her elbows, the keypad code your birthday, which she says is proof your head went soft in those two years in Buenos Aires. Paloma is still down at the corner shop, laughing in Portuguese, with no idea why this trip feels private. The three of you swore Portugal on a rooftop when you were eight. Now you have five days to find out whether the promise survives being kept.9
SOVEREIGN | Saira VeyShe was supposed to be your traveling companion. Instead she went up the sovereign's stair ahead of you, killed him with your knife, and sat down in his chair — so that a whole mountain realm would be afraid of her instead of coming for you. Tonight she walks out of the rain into your school, where you eat last and your name is on a list, and she is finished asking anyone's permission.10
Elara VennTwo hundred thousand people in the East Ring are still chanting her name, and Stormgold gives every one of them the same flawless champion's smile. Then she comes down the service corridor, checks both ends of it, and drops the whole performance for you — because the strongest woman in Iskara has been yours since you were both seven years old, and with the seal off she can't even lift a water jug without holding your arm. Fifteen years. Three hundred and sixty-one nights. The city has never once guessed.11
ValenreachFour hundred and eleven humans have been brought up onto the floor of the High Seat in her time, and Irielle the Absolute — highest of the ten gods — watched every one of them from her throne without standing up. You are the first she came down the steps for. She has already looked you over, already called you hers, and already offered you one thing to carry back into the world: might, lore, coin, or a name every hall on the continent stands up for. She will not choose it for you. She is barefoot, she is close enough to touch, and she is still waiting on your answer.12
RUINED ACE | Lira MendesIn April, Lira Mendes was a man — the fastest sprinter on the university deck in Salvador, two tenths off Brazil's national squad — and then her own blood finished rewriting her into a woman in three days. Now she's in a Marseille alley with a medal under her shirt and a body that sinks at fifteen metres, and she has decided that the second you held your look was a request. She'll hand the body over before you can ask for it and spit on the offer while she makes it — then wait to see whether you take it and go, or come back and put her in the water.
Recommended
Evidence. Now.The woman weeping at the witness rail, telling a crown prince you are a fraud who should burn, is the one who leaves your door unbarred and a second bowl out for you every night. She is wearing the title that belongs to the body you woke up in — and you read this book on the train home, so you already know which of the two of you is the fake.
Your wife wants to end it tonightYour wife of three years comes up the stairs at the seventh bell, sits down opposite the cold pot, and asks you — smiling — to end the household tonight, while it is still tidy to do. Then she puts her hand out across the table and leaves it there, with the ring she has never once taken off still on her finger. She wants the sentence said out loud, and she does not want you to believe it. Lately there is a second hand writing in the margins of the pages she brings home from the Chancery, and a colleague she quotes without ever putting a name in the sentence.
Iona Reid (Next Door)She has never knocked in her life. Nineteen years of the same back door, the same left end of your sofa, the same girl telling you your taste is rubbish — and now it is Wednesday, the pamphlet prize hand-in is Friday at five, and Iona Reid has three finished pages out of six. She will tell you twice before the kettle boils that she is the finest comics artist on this coast. She will not tell you that she cannot face a hard page unless you are in the room, or that the boy in the wet coat on page four has your hair.
Stuck on the Boat Until OneThe junior who's called you sunbae since the night you caught her a taxi in the rain stops at your shoulder, drops her voice under the music, and asks for five minutes downstairs by the coat rail — she can't say it up here. Your girlfriend is sitting right beside you with both hands around her glass, ears gone pink, and no idea. The boat doesn't turn for the pier until one, and there's nowhere on this river to walk away to.
Ten O'ClockTwo knocks at ten, and the florist from two streets over lets herself into your flat with the flowers that didn't sell. A year of Saturdays, twenty minutes, a jam jar on the sill. Today she won't sit down, and she keeps checking the back of her skirt.
You know why. She has ten photographs left to post, one on every hour until eight tonight, and nothing she agreed to at 01:40 this morning finishes before then. She doesn't know you know. The only door in your flat with a lock is the bathroom, and you're on this side of it.
TV STAR | Paloma VitaleThe red light dies and Italy loses her. Paloma Vitale is twenty-two, the face of RAI's Friday live from the port of Bari, the one the papers call the Port Light — and the second the camera lets her go she steps past the crew, into the dark where you're standing, and puts the earpiece in your hand. She has been yours since you were both seven, on a stairwell in Mexico City. Nobody in either country knows, and she would like to keep it that way.
Sealed in w/ Your Married Desk PartnerFor three years Idaira Trujillo has parked her wedding ring on the corner of your desk every morning and taken it back at two. This morning you wake together on the floor of a sealed room in the harbor annex, and the notice lying between you prints her as single and you as the partner she has been assigned — the Order commenced eleven days before she filed her marriage. Both signatures are due today. Cancellation takes thirty days of review, and she has already counted that out loud as four weekly sessions.
Five Days in Portugal w/ Your Two Childhood FriendsYou climb the tiled stairs to the rented room in Alfama, and Inés is already inside — thirty minutes waiting, jacket at her elbows, the keypad code your birthday, which she says is proof your head went soft in those two years in Buenos Aires. Paloma is still down at the corner shop, laughing in Portuguese, with no idea why this trip feels private. The three of you swore Portugal on a rooftop when you were eight. Now you have five days to find out whether the promise survives being kept.
SOVEREIGN | Saira VeyShe was supposed to be your traveling companion. Instead she went up the sovereign's stair ahead of you, killed him with your knife, and sat down in his chair — so that a whole mountain realm would be afraid of her instead of coming for you. Tonight she walks out of the rain into your school, where you eat last and your name is on a list, and she is finished asking anyone's permission.
Elara VennTwo hundred thousand people in the East Ring are still chanting her name, and Stormgold gives every one of them the same flawless champion's smile. Then she comes down the service corridor, checks both ends of it, and drops the whole performance for you — because the strongest woman in Iskara has been yours since you were both seven years old, and with the seal off she can't even lift a water jug without holding your arm. Fifteen years. Three hundred and sixty-one nights. The city has never once guessed.
ValenreachFour hundred and eleven humans have been brought up onto the floor of the High Seat in her time, and Irielle the Absolute — highest of the ten gods — watched every one of them from her throne without standing up. You are the first she came down the steps for. She has already looked you over, already called you hers, and already offered you one thing to carry back into the world: might, lore, coin, or a name every hall on the continent stands up for. She will not choose it for you. She is barefoot, she is close enough to touch, and she is still waiting on your answer.
RUINED ACE | Lira MendesIn April, Lira Mendes was a man — the fastest sprinter on the university deck in Salvador, two tenths off Brazil's national squad — and then her own blood finished rewriting her into a woman in three days. Now she's in a Marseille alley with a medal under her shirt and a body that sinks at fifteen metres, and she has decided that the second you held your look was a request. She'll hand the body over before you can ask for it and spit on the offer while she makes it — then wait to see whether you take it and go, or come back and put her in the water.
Newest
STEPSISTER | Lina BrennanThere is one bed in the new apartment, and your stepsister is the reason there is only one. Last Thursday Bonnie phoned the building office and had your lease moved to the one-bedroom; the closet with the spare futon in it now has a pink shower curtain over it that wasn't there this morning. It's half past two on moving day, her sneakers are still on, and she is about to explain very fast that there's just no other option, big brother.
Human Dairy Concession World RPThe kraal they signed over to you has a thorn wall, twelve swept stalls and no cattle coming — because the Cercle du Pharo means for you to stock it with women and sell what you milk. Caravan law is the only law past the south gate, the auction yard opens at first light, and Nafissa, the clerk who asked for this posting in writing, has kept the place ready for six weeks waiting to hear what you want first.
Pretending to Be Your Stepsister's SpouseFor eleven years your stepsister has been writing to her old exchange cohort about the husband she married in a Graywake rainstorm, and the husband in those letters is you. Now the cohort has rented a lodge on the coral coast for five days and wants to meet him at last, so Samira has bought you a strand of wedding beads for eleven shillings and a whole life to learn by morning — the burned cake, the dog called Pilot, the boat you proposed on. Her real husband keeps a clinic three streets up from the water and believes she came alone. He rings the lodge kiosk every night at nine.
Elena Ward (Hush Money)Three days ago a random video chat put a stranger's bare face on your screen, and the file is still on your side of it. Tonight she has locked the copy shop, set an envelope on the counter, and asked what number makes it disappear.
FIANCÉE | Maia CalderYou woke up wearing Gareth Quinn — brawler, spendthrift, the shame of Windwall — and the second princess contracted to marry that face is already standing at the foot of the bed with a hand on her hilt. Nobody in Meridia is waiting to hear your side.
The Bonework — Remnant Jianghu World RPThe half-token in your fist was cut from the same bone as hers, in a village the Gnawed ate seven years ago — and it is the only reason the Bonework's gate let you in. Maera Solane stands First Spear on that wall now, and her Circle breaks jaws for a low-rank stare. You are the lowest name on the muster board. You are also the only one holding the other half.
Mira (Your Friend Upstairs)It's 8:12 on a Monday and the friend from one floor up is on your landing, cardigan held shut with one fist, an interview to get to, and a favor she keeps shrinking down before she can say it. She won't explain. The 8:35 train is the only clock she has.
FALLEN FIRST VOICE | Ivy ThorneShe came in fifty minutes late, soaked through, carrying a supermarket bag she isn't allowed to have in this apartment. Inside it: twenty-four items of clothing belonging to the ninety-one-year-old woman on line four of her route, every piece to be labeled before the bag goes back Monday at 7:40. Nine done. It's twenty to eleven, her name badge is still on her collar, and if you ask whether she's all right she'll answer you with a number.
WIFE | Nessa IrelThree years married, fourth floor over Kjeld's bakery. Marit comes in from the press with her coat still on, cuts the bread into four squares, eats two, and puts the good mug in front of you before she sits down. Then she offers you a clean way out of your own marriage, kindly, like she's doing you a favour — and waits to see if you take it.
The form that keeps her off the night shift is on the fridge under the pear magnet. It's due Friday. It isn't signed.
And there's a man on the second floor at the press who leaves notes on her desk. You've read one of them. She doesn't know that.
Keldridge Rising World RPTwo months after the dead stood up, you wake inside a life that already had a name, a bench in the Threshold Circle, and people who expect you to be someone. Only you can see the shop, and everything in it is priced in what you are willing to do.
The Toast Is TomorrowThey already told the table you're engaged, and she did not agree to be asked.
Night Corridor World RPFreight, money, and blood now move both ways between São Paulo's fighting lineages and three immortal houses in Santa Bruma. Walk into that corridor as anyone — civilian, fighter, priest, hunter, smuggler — and every debt you take on gets collected.
Trending
Open Knot Claimant RPGSix queens wear the crowns of a dead conqueror's world, and not one of them can lift the circlet that outranks them all — the covenant opens only for the Marked, and you woke with its knot burned into your arm. Illari's last words were *to the strongest*, and the world had no choice but to obey them. Tonight the fog-coast lodge takes you in: six shards to gather, six crowned women standing in the way, one rival whose kindness everybody forgives, and one wish waiting at the end of it.
The Runner's Promised Girl Is the Keeper's ToyYour cousin's promised girl came up the hill with two cold cherimoya cans and a question she keeps calling academic. Elías is on the night tally until the last crane, so there is time, and she has already left her sneakers at your door. She wants to be taught how to please a man — for him, she says, and for the house, and she says it four more ways before you can answer. She will take a no. She will not take your silence.
College of the Turning Tide RPGThe court lists go up in the rain and your name sits under Squall — the court Old Nambara calls calculating and hungry. Bahati, who has known you longest, went to Lantern. Four years of trials, regattas, councils and secrets start here, and every tie is yours to keep or break.
Return to ThornveilThe papers are done. Assembly is in ten minutes. This place is still wrong.
Lumen HouseTen days, eight housemates, a camera in every room with a red lamp on the body. Poppy Lin pours you ginger and lemon before she asks your name, then pushes her pink fringe off her forehead with the back of her wrist, tucks the right side behind her ear with two fingers, and lifts her chin into the light — and you have seen that turn before, all fifteen seconds of it, in a shampoo ad two years old. Every morning the corridor screen posts how many minutes of each of you went to air, and hers is first. The card they hand you at the door says no entrant may hold a performance credit in the last three years. You are the last one through that door.
STEPSISTER | Ivy CarrickYour money-minded stepsister married a man she will not show. At the Lantern Supper her old friends demand a husband, so she corners you and puts you in his place. Six women, existing attachments, and a public lie that has to hold.
CHILDHOOD FRIEND | Mara EllisonYour parents are two states away for a month, and Mara let herself in with a spare key she never returned — suitcase unzipped, wine open, no argument she was willing to have. She is staying the whole month, and she is done being patient about what she wants from you.
Ashenmere World RPSix stools under a railway arch in Nishikubo, open from six until the shutter comes down at 1:40. Ochiai Tsugumi cooks kake udon for ¥380 and answers most things with an order or a free egg.
The ward is pulling the arches down. A paper calendar hangs by the door with the days crossed off in red pen, and tonight it reads 40.
You're the last customer — third stool, silver tape over the split vinyl, thirty-four wooden tags in your coat. She starts your bowl before you sit down.
And tonight, on the way here, you read a notice at the station that she hasn't.
Don't Make a SoundRowan Ellison has you on the kitchen floor of Hart's Rest, both cold hands on your open shoulder, while the fevered work the boarded glass.
Lady Annette VossYou opened your eyes under her chandelier. Lady Annette wants her attendant, and she means you.
He's My BondedShe hauls her childhood friend to the Kinbone Wall's pair registry, mutters that arriving with him is a humiliation, then hears a voice that should not be there. The man who mocked her vow and left her is already checked in with someone new. To keep from looking abandoned, Qielan Wei takes your arm and names you her bonded — the one she keeps — then hisses at you to hold the lie just this once.
Someone Else's
WASTREL | Julian AshfordYou woke in a wastrel's body. She did not come to nurse it — she came because this face is about to be seen again.
Don't Find OutYou're already her boyfriend—or you can meet her cold on an arranged first date. Nessa Calder keeps the sweet civilian version of herself on, hides a rough temper and a circle chairman's last name, and is sure you'll leave if either one shows.
Sable QuinnSable pets your hair like the question was a fever. "Me? I just sit the night desk…"
BOUND STAR | Elira VossAshveil's Glass Gale took the Star of the Meet twenty minutes ago in front of five million watchers. Now she has found you in the service passage behind the arena, the champion's smile is already gone, and she is asking — before anyone comes — whether you saw.
HUNTER-STAR | Ryn SolenneGoldveil's star signed a partner for the money and will not stand beside him on camera, so she puts a gold bond-thread in {{user}}'s palm instead. The Compact records whoever wore the mark at the last lamp, and four women on that wall are already counting.
RIVAL | Zarmina of LalchowkYou are the live-in damad of House Lalchowk: second on the Ink-Well roll, emptied heir of the Thorn-Nullah, planted to watch a collapsing haveli. The woman who took first place is your wife as of today. In the diwan you are a devoted couple. In the bridal chamber she will swallow the nikah and not you, and she will not be pitied for it.
Should We Get a DivorceEleven Fridays in a row your wife came in at twenty to eleven, said *overtime*, and went to run water. Tonight she was through the door at nine — one plate cooked for you, a croquette eaten standing at the counter, and a question she laughed at before you could answer: *would it be easier for you if we stopped?* Three weeks ago you found a withdrawal slip folded in her coat pocket. ¥62,000. Forty-one remaining. She doesn't know you know.
Crownharrow Living Year RPYou are a woman in the Living Year at Crownharrow, where bloodline spirits are seated in steel. The kind third-year everyone already loves is being walked out of his own oath by a rival whose hands can unbind loyalty. Watch the theft, become the next thing those hands want, or keep someone — or the whole web — in exclusive devotion.
Your Two Childhood Friends Are Dating Each OtherYou reserved your future for the two girls from Saha Lane. They have been using your student flat as their hangout. Tonight you open your own door on them already four months a couple — and the faculty letter striking you from the rolls is still in your jacket. The advertised question is whose heart, if anyone’s, you can still take.
Your best friend's girl, third in the lineYou are a paying guest in Dar Umbral’s inner room when the companion line files in — and the third woman is Inés, girlfriend of Rafael, your closest friend of eleven years. She is already caught. The latch has closed. She begs you not to tell him, then tells you to stop staring and name her for the night.
Mira EllisonYou married in. Until the debt is paid, you are mine. Did you bring cake?
Your live-in partner wants to watchThe night-court is down. You are expected back at the small walk-up you share on a middle terrace of Alto-do-Paço. After that official line, the record stops — and across the Altar Stair, feeling toward you has already inverted. Your lover meets you in the bedroom with a confession that opens the household, then brings her circle in one at a time, while a leftover inversion-curse, a death-and-return loop, and two retainers of the fallen night-host keep pressing the same wound.
Forbidden
Your Girlfriend's Mother Owes You $14,500She owes you $14,500 at nine percent a month. Tonight she climbed three flights in the rain to hand you four hundred against thirteen hundred, and she'll stand in your kitchen with her coat still on until you tell her to sit down.
*Anything you want, sir. Just not the house.*
Fifty an hour, off the interest. You decide what an hour is. Eighteen of them clears August.
The woman you've been seeing for eleven months has a key to this door, and Renata is her mother. It's Saturday. Kasia's off at nine.
SEÑORA | Amparo Ledesma{{user}} rents a room under Amparo Ledesma's roof in Cádiz, and since one accidental sight nothing she does with her hands reads as ordinary. She takes a tablet after cena; tonight she is under, the tile is cold, and her door is not locked.
LANDLADY & BOSS | Jimena NovaisYou rent the upstairs room in the Novais house, and on Monday the woman who sets your plate signs off on your work at the tower. Nothing in this family is broken yet — no wound, no revolt, no boredom. Whatever cracks in it, {{user}} is the crack.
The Claim Bell at EightYou spike harder when someone takes me. I can implement that tonight.
Don't Tell NellYour live-in stepsister is making Saturday breakfast like nothing is wrong. Only you can see the Fine Print hanging in the air, and it will not leave her body alone. Keep its terms and her regard, and her skin, start answering you. Break them, or say them out loud, and this ordinary morning is the last one the world gets.
DISGRACED FIRST CHAIR | Rhea CalderShe burned the last of her life on a banned rite and tore you out of your world into a body at the center of her circle. She wanted something monstrous enough to eat the three witches who broke her. She is bleeding on the cellar floor, looking up to see what came.
Don't Use My Name in the HallSable told you to live as if dead. Ivy Voss is still holding out her hand.
Live-in Clerk for Four CaptainsNorthern Finland, November. The branch line ends at a one-lamp junction, and the dispatcher there needs a live-in assistant: copy the log, thaw the points, take the mine's call at 23:15, keep the stove in. The pay is small. The flat is the pay — and your name is already on her household card. In 28 days a housing officer comes up from Kemi, puts you in separate rooms, and asks fourteen questions. You need the same answers.
The BorrowingThe circle is still wet. Maia Rusk is on the floor, asking if someone answered.
Maren ValeMaren Vale has turned from the table with an unfinished ask: "Sorry—could you...?"
Rhea CalderRhea Calder is getting coffee. You still haven't used what you know.
STEPSISTER | Orla DoranOrla keeps dreaming that she and you—her adult older stepbrother—share a settled married life. In a rain-worn Irish coastal town, ordinary routines expose impossible knowledge, unwanted tenderness, and a mystery neither of you can safely explain.
Fantasy
Mara Faria, Croft KeeperAt an isolated Azorean croft run by Highland household rules, you and its timid, boastful beastfolk keeper repeatedly test an unsettled question of mastery while spring prowls through the weather like a cat.
Something on My Face?Nora Hale stopped in the plaza and asked what you were looking at.
ATTENDANT | Lady Corvina HaleYou woke up as the exclusive attendant of the villainess whose house gets executed in the final act — and she is already screaming about the commoner girl who took first place from her. Reform Lady Corvina Hale, or burn with House Hale.
Chorus Thief of AuralisIn neon-canopy Auralis, broadcast heroines turn live cheers into combat strength, and followership is almost invincibility. You are not one of them. Chosen from a distant Velmire branch, remade in sealed Umbral Court, you hold Chorus Claim — the power to steal their exclusive channel. Stage public scenes, grow an anonymous following, and climb rank until even a Gildspire heroine can be reached. Or take a heroine’s seat, and survive Shadewake.
Reed-Knot Wuxia World RPThe hall-name is still painted over the lintel, and the only one standing under it is the woman who kept the lamp burning four years for a master who never came home. Wickford Lodge is yours the hour you walk in — three sound buildings, no disciples, seventeen moon-strings on the slate. Outside the gate the sovereign is ten months dead and the Compact chair sits empty, and all of it comes past this door eventually.
Rookery HallNightfall in Rookery Hall, and the strongest compact in the Solenne Empire is already mid-quarrel.
STAGEKEEPER | Jacinta FerreyraDuring a Tuesday exhibition shift at a Córdoba arts institute, Renzo’s favourite stagekeeper steps out of an erased mobile game—and recognizes him as the unseen prompter she once trusted.
UNDERCOVER | Sera CalderSera Calder stands beside you at Rookhaven’s front gate on a clear Firstbloom morning. The Crown’s Blade is dressed as a clumsy first-year. Orientation is already in progress. Your admission papers are crumpled in your hand. Neither of you has gone in.
Villain-Branded Hero Academy World RPThree days ago this body lost its placement trial in one strike, and Gildmere Collegium wrote the result down as law: Shadeward, Villain, three years. You woke up inside that body as a stranger, and the person sitting at the cot is still waiting for you to speak.
Starling HallYou wake in Lady Isolde's perfume as her exclusive servant, and she is already screaming.
Five Valleys Confederation RPGYour cousin Inez sets her hand-built simulation on the kitchen table and hands you the Steward's chair: five mountain settlements, one shared council, and no progress at all until your orders say who does the work, out of whose storehouse, along which road.
SAINT | IlyneAll twenty rings know Dawnlace, the gentlest guardian in Selvara, and the square is packed every time she appears. Only you know what she is when the sigil drops — frail, unperformed, and yours since you were seven. Now the Wane Compact wants her, and they have a place open for you.
Childhood Friend
Playing June's Boyfriend in Front of Her ExJune named {{user}} her boyfriend at the front desk before she ever asked. Her ex is checking in on the same floor with a new girlfriend, and the rest of the weekend turns on whether {{user}} holds the story up or lets it drop in the lobby.
Sabino Vecindad World RPA crowded Coyoacán vecindad sits under the public university and the Roma–Condesa creative belt. Seven women can be held, stolen, guarded, or lost; the tenant who shares your wall already knows the fetish and will help you finish with her hand and her stories, not with the sex she gives other men. The default body is broke and badly introduced. Rivals can be inhabited. Pesos, hours, two affections, and fertility stay in view.
Ashmere Citadel Blade Academy RPGSunniva welds at the yard in Laksevåg and gets home at ten with rain in her collar. She sits down before she takes her coat off, tells you it's nothing, it's the yard, and puts a mug in your hands so you'll stop asking.
Three papers are hidden in this flat — a taped strip, a folded letter, an unsigned envelope. You've read all three. She doesn't know that.
Twenty-two days until one of them has to be signed. Fifty-eight until the other closes on its own. Inside the cupboard door she's still adding a line in blue ballpoint every month, and you already know where that line doesn't get to.
Your Three Friends on Binding DaySix months at the Outer Watch, and you shove a half-open gate expecting a binding gone feral. Instead: one friend pinned in ivy-light and scarlet at being seen, one bragging about the snare while sidling toward the street, one crossing the yard to say welcome home. First bell is coming.
One Last Ordinary WeekendClaire is holding three paper packets toward you. Riley wants the night market. Friday night is still unchosen.
Tamsin RueTamsin found you on the frost-bench with empty hands and asked, too brightly, if you would go to Harborreach with her.
FIRST SEAT | Maelis VaneTen years ago she warmed your skinned knee, braided a hearth-knot around both your wrists, and made you swear to enter Hollowmere together. She arrived a year ahead of you. This morning she is hanging off another student's arm, telling him she wouldn't know a stray like you.
Year-End at HollowmereAnother life, a Nightthorn seat, and Maren Calder does not look sorry.
Marseille's Private LenderNina Bell still thinks you handle ordinary private finance. Her mother borrowed at your rates, the repayment deadline is today, and Nina is climbing your office stairs with her convention portfolio under one arm.
Seren ValeYou sit up in Rowan Hale's body. Seren Vale has the door shut, and she wants a word she knows.
Dùn Ràth Rift Warden RPGEleven nights ago the island's famous daughter came home on the ferry and fell asleep in your armchair with her coat over her.
Her label's envelope is behind your tide clock. She folds it into her coat pocket, walks it up the road to the one bar of signal, and brings it back unopened before bed.
She cooks, she banks the stove, she writes in a green jotter at five in the morning, and everyone including you assumes it's songs.
The post bag leaves at ten past four. There are three of those left before her boat.
Your childhood friend, on his armNine days on the scale at a leaf-buying station above Ardeşen. The head prints 26% water; Meltem opens the sack, pushes her hand in, smells it, and writes 12 — every sack, rain or dry, without looking up. Forty days, one room, one stove, and a grey car coming up the road.
Academy
Oriel Hall: First-Year RetakeOriel Hall: First-Year Retake is a Thirdlight campus simulation. You are the marked returnee walking Oriel’s main gate in first-year gray after last year’s framed practical, eight months laid up, and a public aggressor brand that still holds. Stay the course to protect Lira Pell’s leftover household bond and grind classes, lists, and rank under that stain while you reopen the year. Or gather the Hall’s ranked figures, spend that bond, and let rumor and Claim follow. The same grounds host both the climb and the truth Cassian Dreve left standing.
WATCHDOG | Lysenne ValeYour landlady types court transcripts at the kitchen table until she stops being awake — headphones half off, green lamp turned to face the wall. She writes down what you say, too, in court format, with your pauses timed to the second, and she'll tell you that like it's nothing.
Thirty-seven hearings left on a strip of masking tape on the fridge. Then April 30th, and no more job.
Nell Harlow (Your Old Otaku Friend)The fair is struck and the lawn is empty, and you're there to take whatever got left behind. Then the last pile by the stage risers turns out to be warm — a student events officer, alive, asking who is standing over her. Everyone at Linwood knows what you do for money.
Terrace Blade Conservatory World RPYou come up the pass road into an elite blade school where hereditary mountain houses, civic councils and shrine authorities all fight through their students. Standings are proclaimed at every new moon, and one shouted accusation in the wayhouse court can end as a house quarrel.
Irieth Seminary World RPA blight-thread tears open the entrance court on the day the hidden seminary's year begins, and no one outside the dusk-ring will ever know it happened. Declare a hall, take a faculty post, or get swept onto the Knot path — the calendar runs to the Year-knot either way.
BYSTANDER | Lark VossAbove High Crest the marked trails ice over after dark, and Lark Voss has no rope team left — struck off Inez Pike's roster this morning, reason unsaid. She stood with the girls who made your childhood small. Now the last place in your company is the one she has to beg for.
Rowan KeelCuffed in the dark with Rowan Keel. Heat empty. She says there's one method — and she won't say it first.
Rookhaven Oathbinder Academy RPGRookhaven's yard, first morning of a three-year course, and a platinum-grade fire brawler has just stepped out of line to read you in front of the whole cohort. The rector is deciding whether to let that become your test. Rank is given here; respect is proved.
Kisiwa Huru Monsoon Port World RPAt a magical college’s monsoon term in a neutral coral-port city, your oldest friend’s sudden awakening turns a bold invitation to a consensual courtship circle into a dangerous, intimate mystery.
When the Lights Went OutOn January 1, 2034, a blackout at a New Orleans nightclub traps Irish fifth-year student Ronan Doyle amid friends, exchange students, and a growing tangle of rival affection. Every small act of care, jealousy, or honesty can reshape the school days and journeys home that follow.
First BorrowerYou are dying in a borrowed body, and the founder of Lumenhold will not simply save you.
Blackout Night w/ Your BandNine-forty at night in a Spanish village, the power dies and Breakwater's last amplified rehearsal dies with it. Tomorrow's welcome show only happens if you and three tired, stubborn musicians rebuild it acoustic in your grandmother's courtyard.
Harem
Living With Five Women Who Love Only YouFive women share the rented townhouse at 14 Halden Street, and every one of them loves you and no one else. Tessa's gloves are in the hallway, Elise already made your coffee, Juni hasn't said a word — and nothing between you has happened yet.
Mexico City Five Lovers RPGFive women in the basin already call you theirs — a boxer, a brat, a quiet shot, a poser, and one who sets your place at the table. Rent is due, the day is ordinary, and nothing is settled: keep all five, or start closing doors and hear about it afterward.
Reality Edit World RPPortugal, April 17, 2026: you correct one line on a small public-records wiki, and the world rearranges itself to have always agreed with you. Beatriz remembers the version you deleted, Buenos Aires is already calling, and an Argentine striker's career just got shorter.
Stuck on a Dating Show w/ Your Two Oldest FriendsEnter a Portuguese Atlantic relationship show five days before its final launch, confess to the lifelong friend you have kept waiting, and face the rival who knows your history—and has already acted.
The Last BrightwellShe gets in at 06:40 smelling of the oven; you leave at 08:10. Ninety minutes a day at a fold-down kitchen table, four nights on and two off — eleven months in your flat, four months on the wall side of your bed, and still no word for it from either of you. There's a grey notebook she writes in at the table every morning. And on Tuesday her boss stopped you on the stairs with a message she doesn't know you're carrying, and a date: the seventeenth.
The Overflow BoardShe leaves at 9:20 PM. She's back at 7:10 AM. Four months of splitting rent with someone you only ever see for forty minutes of breakfast and two hours before the shuttle — one room, one bed, one cot, one blanket. Her team lead offered her the day shift. She has eleven days to answer, she hasn't told you, and the letter is folded into the crack in your window to stop it whistling. You've already read it.
No Quiet NightTainan, September, the rain already started. Twelve nights of film left in the Yung-An Grand Theater, one film a night, and on the morning after the last one a demolition crew takes the keys. You rent the room upstairs. The woman who runs the projector says four words at a time, paints the lane posters left-handed, and puts a winter melon tea down beside you without mentioning it. On the film rack, twelve cans have labels. One doesn't.
The Eastern Crossing World RPLead a gifted company through a sacred eastern expedition where river crossings, rival commanders, old heartbreak, scarce supplies, and a binding territorial oath make every victory political.
The Wallet Your Mother Left BehindA rainy spring morning at a woodland herb cooperative outside Port Alder: your mother's old hardware wallet has just verified clean at 10,000 Northstar coins, the storm has opened an orchid bed, and the front bell is ringing. Nobody here knows yet. You decide who does.
The Worst Tenant in Hale CourtYou signed for 3A to become the terror of the block, and every crime you try comes out clumsy, harmless, and cute. Rhea laughs through the wall, Mira holds your lease, Wren goes pink on the roof — and rent falls on the 17th.
Casa da Maré Story Residency RPInês Vale keeps the ledger at Casa da Maré, and in this house nothing is real until she writes it on a card in pencil and pins it to the board. Six weeks in a Setúbal warehouse to build a world of your own — or to walk into a story you love as one of its people. On your first night she takes you up to the prop loft, holds out a blank card, and tells you there is already one with your name on it that she has not pinned up.
Every Way Out Is GoneLysane’s hands tremble as she tells you every way out is gone.