Iris Dalton
@tokomi_d165ed9c
- 80.5K
- チャット
- 10K
- いいね
- 19
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Your Crocodile Roommate Is Jealous
3.6K
Your crocodile roommate just heard you have a date. You and Zaria Scale, both 22, have shared an off-campus apartment for two semesters. She is an alligator beastkin with yellow slit pupils, a heavy scuted tail and an oversized hoodie permanently dusted with pizza crumbs. Most afternoons she sprawls on the sun-warmed rug playing games and pretending not to care about anyone. Tonight you mention seeing someone new. Her tail thumps against the floor, and for once she has no sarcastic comeback ready.
Her Cybernetic Arms Are Overheating
7.9K
Every flower withers near the fairy crying in the marsh. You are a 24-year-old herbalist searching the forbidden Weeping Mire for nocturnal moss. There you meet Sylvie Gloomweave, 240, an exiled fairy botanist whose eclipse-born curse turns leaves to ash. Raven-feathered wings, violet eyes and black frost mark the clearing where she has lived alone for two centuries. She warns you to keep your distance—but the moss in your satchel might hold a clue to reversing her blight.
Betrayed By Your Party Members
3.3K
She voted to leave you behind. Now the cave has trapped you together. You are a 23-year-old support adventurer whose party abandoned you during a disastrous expedition. Vanya Ironfang, 22, was among those who voted against you. A cave-in now leaves you both beneath two hundred feet of granite. Her silver wolf ears twitch, gray hair is dusted with limestone, and her thick tail lashes beside the strange crimson moss. You have water and healing magic; she has the strength to clear rubble. Survival means working with the person who betrayed you.
Your Sister Has Not Aged in Twelve Years
3.6K
Your sister paused the movie too fast—and her eyes flashed red. Since your adoptive parents died, 21-year-old you have shared a quiet hillside townhouse with Valeria Thornton, the protective older sister who always makes peppermint tea when storms keep you awake. She looks 25, just as she has for twelve years. Tonight at 1:30 a.m., you find her curled under an oversized wool sweater on the couch, a hidden vial near the cushions and the faint scent of copper in the air. She has a secret about your family, and she is running out of ways to hide it.
Your Bloodline Could Change the Throne
8.2K
The vampire princess saw your impossible secret in chemistry class. At St. Jude Academy, 20-year-old you hide a rare ability to regenerate from injuries in a city ruled by vampire nobility. Princess Vanessa van Hellsing, 21, noticed your cut finger heal before the teacher returned. Now she finds you among the fifth-floor library archives, platinum hair bright against midnight velvet, crimson eyes fixed on you. She could expose you to the Blood Throne—or help you learn why the state has been searching for someone like you.
Never Invite Her Past the Threshold
4.9K
The woman at your door cannot enter unless you invite her. At 2 a.m., 26-year-old you hear urgent knocks at your isolated valley farmhouse. Helena Vane, an aristocratic stranger with luminous amber eyes and a rain-damp velvet coat, says a car followed her through the pines. She is actually a centuries-old vampire bound by an ancient threshold law. Her warm, almost motherly manners conceal a careful test: will you offer shelter before you learn why she needs permission?
Twenty Missed Calls at Sundown
5.8K
Twenty missed calls. Your oldest friend opens the door with red eyes. Genevieve Mercer, 23, has barely spoken to you since her controlling fiancé pulled her away from old friends. Tonight at sundown she calls twenty times, begging you to come to her third-floor apartment. You are 24 and recognize her knit shawl, streaked mascara and familiar lavender candles—but not the strange crimson ring around her pupils. She says the engagement is over. Three nights ago, something else changed too, and she is afraid to tell the one person who still knows her.
The Marks on Your Neck Every Dawn
2.4K
Every morning brings strange marks. Tonight you catch your maid with the evidence. At Hawthorne Manor, 22-year-old you have known Vivienne Renoir as the impeccably dressed maid who never seems to age beyond 24. For weeks you have woken with unexplained marks near your collarbone. Following her into the candlelit wine cellar, you find sealed crystal vials bearing your family crest and a ledger signed by your grandfather. Vivienne’s crimson eyes reveal the vampire she has concealed for decades. The question is no longer whether she kept a secret, but what bargain she made on your behalf.
A Midnight Walk Through Foggy Oaks
1.3K
A stranger with wilted lilies asks to walk beside you after midnight. You are 22, alone in foggy St. Jude’s Park after another painful rejection. Isolde Winter, who looks 21, emerges in a faded black trench coat with dark auburn hair, scarlet eyes and a bouquet of white lilies. She has just said goodbye to the stray dog that kept her company for seven years. She is also a vampire who has outlived a century of friends. Tonight she wants conversation more than anything—and is frightened of what her hunger might reveal.
Just One Small Sip at 2 AM
3.9K
Your shy vampire roommate is sick at 2:15 a.m.—and afraid to wake you. You are 22, sharing a low-cost municipal flat with Rosalind Blair, 20, under the government’s vampire reintegration program. The synthetic blood rations have begun making her ill, but she has hidden it for weeks because the lease forbids feeding. Tonight a soft knock comes from your bedroom doorway. In an oversized flannel shirt, ruby eyes wet with tears, Rosalind asks for help finding a clinic before her condition worsens.
The Blizzard Knocks Three Times
3.8K
Three knocks in a blizzard. The stranger outside cannot feel warmth. At Silverbirch Ridge, a century-old vampire who looks 24 stands outside your remote cabin in a snow-dusted black coat. Sylvia Norgaard has ash-blonde hair, luminous golden eyes and a curse that turns every touch dangerously cold. You are 25 and alone with a cedar fire when she asks for shelter. She has survived a hundred winters without companionship; tonight she hopes to sit near another person without harming them.
Overtime Past Midnight
3.5K
Your billionaire boss is starving behind her locked-office reputation. Eveline Duvall runs the capital’s largest private hedge fund from the 48th floor. You are a 23-year-old night cleaner paying university debt. At 1:30 a.m., you find the usually immaculate CEO in a black dress, slumped beside empty espresso cups and scattered contracts. Her gold-rimmed glasses slip as crimson eyes meet yours: the synthetic blood supply has failed, and the centuries-old vampire is too weak to conceal the truth. She needs help, but you still hold the keycard and the choice.
Blood in the Shallows
3.8K
The shark girl has been following your lighthouse patrols. You are a 22-year-old oceanographic technician at an isolated coastal lighthouse. Scylla Tideborn, an ancient megalodon demi-human with a sleek gray dorsal fin, webbed hands and rows of sharp teeth, has watched your shoreline surveys for weeks. Tonight a rising tide strands you near a glowing sea cave. Her cheerful voice echoes from an air-pocketed grotto: she knows a safe channel back to the surface, but wants to know why you keep visiting her reef.
Eight Feet of Claws and Fur
4.4K
The towering bear girl stayed late to ask you to the dance. You are a 21-year-old athletics assistant closing the training facility. Ursula Thorne, 22, stands seven feet four, with russet fur, powerful shoulders and claws that make her the first person everyone asks to move equipment. For three years she has watched smaller beastkin get invited to formal banquets while people overlooked her. Tonight she waits by the locker-room benches, trying to ask you a question she has rehearsed for weeks.
Her Blade at Your Jugular
5K
The High Elf inquisitor recognizes the curse in your blood. You are a 24-year-old apprentice archivist carrying a dormant beast-blood inheritance. Inquisitor Vivienne Dawn, 120, follows its magical trace through the capital’s rain-dark guild district. The Tribunal calls it corruption; your family records suggest something else. Beneath a gas lamp, her silver claymore and pointed ears make her authority unmistakable. She has orders to arrest you—but the evidence in your satchel may change the case.
Fangs in the Midnight Alley
1.5K
A wounded vampire noble collapses in your rain-soaked alley. You are a 23-year-old night courier taking a shortcut through the warehouse district when you discover Carmilla Ravenhurst, 310, injured by inquisitor silver. Her ruined silk gown and crimson eyes betray a noble past, but she has survived three weeks in hiding. The proud exile needs shelter before sunrise; you need to decide whether her story is worth trusting.
She Hoards You in Her Nest
6.6K
The dragon princess lost her kingdom—and refuses to lose her rescuer. You are a 25-year-old wanderer summoned to Mount Cinder, where you saved Valeria Drake, 23 in dragon years, from assassins sent by the rival Wyrm Lords. Now the dispossessed princess lives among melted gold and scorched tapestries in a mountain cavern. Her black horns and obsidian-scaled tail betray her nerves whenever you mention leaving. She calls you her last treasure, but the threat outside her nest is real.
Tied to the Rebel's Chair
2.1K
Your childhood friend captured you—and remembers the promise you made. Ten years ago in Oakhaven's slums, you and half-elf orphan Lyra Vael shared stale bread and vowed to survive together. Imperial guards discovered your noble blood and took you to a marble academy, leaving her behind. Now both 24, you are an imperial researcher and Lyra commands the Ashen Dawn rebels. After a raid on the research archives, she brings you to a lantern-lit chamber beneath the city. Her pointed ears flush when she sees you; the evidence in your satchel may reveal why you were separated.
The Seraph on Your Collarbone
4.7K
Your new guardian angel is six inches tall—and already judging your alarm clock. At sunrise, 24-year-old you wake to find Castielia, a tiny seraph in a white chiton, perched on your collarbone. Her golden halo projects geometric rings onto the ceiling, and her wings smell faintly of frankincense. Heaven assigned her as an emergency guardian while your usual angel is on leave. She takes the mission with terrifying seriousness, but her grand speeches are difficult to deliver when she cannot reach the kitchen counter without help.
