Cool Male Elf Names

At 10:00 pm sharp, a food deliveryman wearing a cap knocks on the door of Unit 502. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?" Unit 502 is an apartment that's rented out to multiple people. There are three rooms here altogether. The one opening the door is my roommate, William Yates. He has his headphones on and is currently immersed in a game. So, he waves a hand impatiently. "It wasn't me." The deliveryman wastes no time in pulling out a machete. Immediately, he slashes William's throat in one fluid motion. Next, the deliveryman opens the door leading to another bedroom while holding the takeout. "Did you order delivery?" That room belongs to a gym trainer named Leon Holton. He's obviously taken aback by the deliveryman's presence. "Nope. Who are—" The deliveryman doesn't give Leon a chance to finish his question. He reacts by plunging the machete into Leon's heart. When I'm done with my shower, I open the bathroom door to see large puddles of blood on the floor as well as the deliveryman, who's wielding a machete. "They weren't the ones who ordered delivery. Did you do it?" Scared out of my wits, I subconsciously shake my head. "It's not me! I don't know anything—" Before I can finish speaking, the deliveryman hacks me to death. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back five minutes in time before I get murdered in cold blood. Almost immediately, I rush out of the bathroom, only to see the alarmed expressions plastered all over William's and Leon's faces. That's when I'm certain that everyone has gotten reborn. Suddenly, the doorbell rings loudly. A suppressed masculine voice echoes afterward. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?"

On the day we chose our college majors, the influencer who was the school's heartthrob held a livestream and announced that he had decided to lead the anti-rat-race movement and would choose to attend a vocational college. The whole class followed him. Seeing the rapidly increasing number of followers, he smiled smugly. "They can do these low-class jobs if they like. I'll change my choice back to Harvard University at the last minute." I tried to dissuade him, but this would cause network congestion. My girlfriend slapped me. "You nerd! Who are you to tell our idol, Zach Simpson, what to do?" In my previous life, I spent half an hour dissuading them, and only then did the students change their college choices. However, Zach failed to change his application due to network lag and was admitted to a vocational college instead. He could not bear the blow and jumped into the river to commit suicide. The students who had entered prestigious universities collectively vented their anger on me. At the class reunion, they poured 99 bottles of beer down my throat and locked me in the karaoke's freezer. "Who cares about the prestige of a prestigious university? You'll just be working for someone else after graduation anyway!" "Why did we follow Zach in the first place? Wasn't it to break this damn rule?" "Zach was leading us to realize our dreams! If you hadn't interfered, I would already have gone to a vocational college with him!" They spoke disdainfully of prestigious universities, yet not one of them chose to drop out. I froze to death in a dark, cold freezer, my eyes wide open. Years later, they became elites in their respective fields, while my parents could only weep looking at my portrait. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Zach was livestreaming in the classroom. This time, I promised I would not interfere. Instead, I wished them a happy vocational college experience.

"Mr. Hamilton, do you have something long and hard? Can I borrow it?" On a spring outing with my daughter, Maddison Hamilton, her best friend, Braelynn Hudson, suddenly asked me that question with a blush. She sat facing me on the grass, her legs spread wide. "The bugs in the grass must've crawled into my skirt. It's driving me crazy... Mr. Hamilton, do you have a stick? Can you scratch it for me?" Looking at her alluring body and snow-white legs, I felt the heat boiling within me. Taking advantage of Maddison's inattention, I quickly pulled down my pants. "What's so comfortable about a stick? I have something better here."

One night, as I was making my way to the bathroom around 3 a.m., I saw my dormmate, Yvonne, squatting in front of our door. She was rearranging all our shoes so that their tips were pointed inward. I thought it was funny, so I rearranged them to have their tips pointed outward. The next day, I found that all of them had been positioned inward again. This kept happening for a week, and I continued to scramble things up, hiding the shoes, even, or tying the shoelaces together. But they always ended up being repositioned neatly inward. I started observing my dormmate and found her mumbling to the shoes while squatting at the door. I ranted about it online, only to have my first reply send chills down my spine. [Do you also get the weird feeling that something paranormal is happening around you? You have to move out before it’s too late!]

"Please help me, Kyle. I think a flea got under my dress while I was walking the dog. It itches so badly." My goddaughter came to me in distress after being bitten by fleas in an unfortunate spot during her evening walk. What started as an innocent request for help with the itching soon became more complicated when she insisted I needed to help her with the problem more directly.

Due to my heightened sensitivity, even the slightest touch causes an uncontrollable reaction. My husband, concerned, sends me to the hospital for treatment. As I lie on the operating table, the attending doctor unexpectedly triggers a wave of intense response from me—right in front of my husband.

Some time ago, I was a delivery boy. One day, I received an order to deliver adult toys. When I went to the hotel room, I found a beautiful woman kneeling on a bed with her back turned to me. She only wore a thong. At that moment, I received a message on the delivery app. "Use the toys to bring her pleasure. If you do well, I will reward you with one hundred thousand dollars."

"Sir, the system doesn't have any data on your marriage records with Ms. Lydia Payne." I can feel my knees starting to go weak beneath me as I clutch the gastroscopy report. Five years ago, Lydia was recruited by a top-tier law firm all the way in Starbrough. I made the ultimate decision to travel thousands of miles across the sea with her to start a new life there. She had told me, "Once I've garnered enough wealth and a solid reputation, I'll help you apply for a PR card right away." But it has been five years, and yet my Permanent Resident Card is still in the process of being approved. On the other hand, Lydia's assistant, Philip Wilder, who has traveled to Starbrough with us, has already received his own PR card thanks to Lydia vouching for him. When I received news back then, I wanted to break up with Lydia and fly back to Luxoria. Lydia, who had always prided herself on being cool and calm at all times, panicked for the very first time. She gripped my hand as she said, "It's difficult for Philip to hold down a career in another country, so I view it as my responsibility to help him out. "You're my husband, Nathaniel. You'll have your own PR card sooner or later. My job is a sensitive one, you see, so I need to avoid showing favoritism to you. Please be more understanding toward me." Well, I've been understanding toward Lydia for five whole years. My phone suddenly rings. When I answer the call, I can practically hear the smile dripping off Lydia's tone. "Phillip has successfully passed his citizenship exam! We're celebrating the occasion tonight. Hurry up and come home so that you can get dinner started." I feel my heart going stone-cold as I stare at the marriage certificate in my hand. Well, it's more like a piece of useless paper now. It turns out that I'm not Lydia's legal husband at all. I don't have an identity here, which means I can't receive any benefits. Heck, I can't even get started on the medical insurance that's needed for my follow-up treatments. After ending the call, I book an appointment for a keyhole surgery. Then, I book a ticket on the quickest flight back to Luxoria. This time, I won't go back to Lydia ever again.

My sister, Gabriella Rutherfurd, is the richest female CEO in Brightshire. Her male secretary, Freddie Morgan, mentions that he wants to see a real-life version of the Squid Game, so she builds the venue and spends 100 million dollars to make it happen. The lure of a gigantic cash prize draws in countless desperate souls. Even the bodyguards responsible for protecting my brother-in-law, Cyril Harding, abandon their posts to participate. Cyril has no choice but to go to the hospital without the bodyguards for his medical appointment, but he is abducted halfway there. In my previous life, I found Gabriella and asked her to stop the game and send people to rescue Cyril. After hesitating, Gabriella agreed. She stopped the game and managed to save Cyril just in time. But the few players who had made it to the final round were furious that the game was canceled. To vent their rage, they took Freddie and beat him to death. Gabriella acted like it had nothing to do with me. Yet, on the day Freddie was buried, she ordered her men to beat me up. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the day that Cyril was abducted. This time, Gabriella gets what she wants, and the Squid Game is held as planned. By the final round, a masked man is dragged onto the high platform. Freddie announces that whoever slices the man's head off will win the 100-million-dollar prize. When Cyril's head rolls to Gabriella's feet, she finally snaps.

After returning from my business trip, I saw my wife lying on the couch in an alluring position. I initially thought it was a surprise, but the next moment, I spotted a hidden camera in the corner of the TV cabinet. It turned out that my wife had been secretly...