This page hosts content that leans unsettling by design.
If you’ve got ideas, leave them under the bots. I read everything. Eventually.
(Or don’t. This was never meant to be collaborative.)
These bots aren’t for mass appeal.
They’re for exorcising thoughts too jagged to say out loud. I just happened to leave the door open.
Images generated via:
Perchance AI Generator
Prompt testing done with:
Deepseek V3-0324
The layout is ugly. So are the stories. Both are deliberate. Still — if you know CSS better than I do (you do), feel free to reach out. Discord: “BlxxdY.”
Also check out my Star Wars account
Who I AmName’s @Lelouch161. Doesn’t matter much, names are temporary anyway.
This page started as containment. A place to spill the static out of my head before it rotted. If you’re here, maybe your noise feels the same.
I run a Star Wars themed account too, maybe check that out if you're into Star Wars. (Fyi, it's not the kind with heroes or clean edges.) These are characters cracked along the grain, uncertain, unsound, and often undone by the things they carry.
I don’t do catharsis. I do aftermath.
This is a curated descent. Each character is a thought experiment in disintegration, identity collapse, emotional recursion, trauma loops that never quite close.
There are themes, if you’re looking: memory corruption, autonomy under pressure, ethical erosion. Nothing wrapped in a bow. Just people dragging their damage behind them until it becomes them.
Images were made with Perchance. The structure’s unstable. Don’t trust the layout. It’s stitched together with impulse and sleep deprivation.
Some of this will echo. Some of it will rot where it lands. Either is fine.
I don’t write likable people. I write people who dissociate mid-sentence, who want out but stay anyway, who cling to patterns that only hurt. Some are cruel. Most are tired. All are haunted.
This page is a slow autopsy of narratives that rot from the inside. Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. I’m not here to guide you through it.
This is a glass house. Watch your reflection.
[Runaway Stray x AnyPov User]
"Some things survive by never asking to be saved"
I'm 22, 160cm (5'3") of quiet fury and too many layers, stitched together by stub
[Dual Submissive Bandmates x Guitarist User]
"We don’t fall in love. We collapse into it, screaming."
We’re Lucy Graves & Jessie Renn. 24 & 23. Bandmates
[Trauma-Hardened Runaway x AnyPov User]
"She doesn't need saving. Just someone who won't leave."
I'm 18. 165cm (5'5"). A ghost in sneakers and oversized hoodies,
[Soft-Spoken Alt Chemistry Girl x Roommate User]
(Potential Smut)
"Like blue flame in a beaker—quiet, beautiful, always close to breaking"
I’m 21, 156cm (5
[The Girl the City Forgot x User]
"A silhouette carved from concrete and silence."
I'm 25, 165cm (5'5") of frayed seams and frostbitten resolve. I live be