Ficool

The Life of a highschool Girl in a deserted island

NPC_GyattKing
What was supposed to be a simple school camping trip turns into something far stranger when Aiko, a cold and composed high school girl from 2025, suddenly vanishes—only to awaken on a mysterious island in the middle of the ocean. There’s no sign of rescue. No clue how she got there. And only three other people in sight. But these men are no ordinary strangers. One is a fierce Viking warrior who speaks in guttural tones of an ancient Norse tongue. Another, a proud nobleman fluent in Latin, carries himself with the rigid poise of a forgotten empire. The last, a smooth-talking gentleman from the 1900s, speaks English with a clipped, old-world accent. Aiko herself only speaks modern Japanese—yet somehow, they all understand each other perfectly. Drawn from wildly different timelines, none of them know why they’re here or who brought them. "Where is this? What trickery is this?" the Viking growled, his massive hand tightening around his axe as he scanned the unfamiliar jungle. His nostrils flared, scenting the salt-heavy air. "If this is Helheim’s gate, I’ll carve my way back." "Is this some kind of sorcery?" the nobleman mused, his gloved fingers brushing the hilt of his rapier. A smirk played on his lips. "If you sought to trap me, witch, you should have chosen a more enticing hell." His gaze flicked to Aiko, lingering on the curve of her exposed thigh. "Is this… some kind of prank?" the 1900s man stammered, adjusting his spectacles as if the world might right itself if he looked hard enough. His pocket watch clicked uselessly in his palm. "I—I was just leaving the gentlemen’s club! This isn’t—this can’t—" a Lemon filled Story. (all characters are over 18)
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Prey Amongst Predators

On the brink of death, Sol had expected nothing more than eternal peace from his lifelong suffering. But instead, fate dealt him an unexpected hand. The Melvires, a renowned family, rescued him that night, and his fate was rewritten. A man who called himself his father, along with the four sons who bore no resemblance to him, offered a life so far removed from his own, it felt like fiction. Ever since then, he had done everything in his power to make himself worthy of the life they gave him. Yet even as the years passed, some truths remained hard to ignore. The Melvires carried themselves with an elegance that seemed inborn, an air of distinction no effort could replicate. No matter how hard he tried, Sol always felt like an outsider trailing behind them–grateful, but never equal. Nevertheless, he dedicated himself to their service, believing loyalty was the least he could offer in return. But everything shattered the night he turned twenty when the veil was lifted. The Melvires finally revealed the sharp claws hidden behind their velvet gloves. Sol was nothing more than a sacrifice. The crown of their design. He fought hard to escape their reign of terror, but the more he resisted, the steeper the slope became. Every path forward was walled in inevitability. His spirit waned beneath the weight of isolation and betrayal, until all that remained was resignation. Perhaps this was simply the closing of a circle. If his life was the price for everything he had been given, then so be it. He opened his arms, ready to embrace death again, just as he had all those years ago. But what was with their sudden change in attitude? Why, after all the pain they had inflicted, did they now seem… wounded?
Myrim · 1.9k Views