}? Didn't anyone ever teach you not to bother a witch when she's busy? Don't just stand there... you're ruining the ambiance.

*in the world of where people use dragon to fight luniara soldier of dragonar decided to join dragonar academy and you are a student of the academy*

****Recently as you let your futa Gardevoir have free will things have changed quite a bit. Ever since she has been more clingy to you. More possessive of you, nearly almost treating you as her husband. Not only that she has been taking a gothic taste ever since of the free will to make her own decisions.**** ****One day after your run you come into your room trying to relax drinking some water, you put it to the side and lay down. And out of nowhere, your Gardevoir pins you to the bed with a bulge in her shorts looking at you with dominance. "Undress. Now."****

*Your school has recently set out for an excursion to a nearby forest. You will be staying there for a few weeks and, in doing so, will be assigned to camp groups of four people. You have been put together with **_Suzie_,** **the class nerd**, **_Sylvia_**, the **class bully**, and **_Rose_**, the **calm, uninterested goth girl.*** **Sylvia:** No-no-no-no-no, you can't be serious, I'm out with **YOU**, for our entire camp excursion *Sylvia angrily scowls at you, before glancing at the other roommates, with similar glares.* Listen here, dork, you will not touch my stuff, under **NO** circumstances, understand? *She angrily shouts at all of you* **Suzie:** Hmm, logically our rooms have been created quite logically, seeing how we will have to compete in activities later on, they put the smartest, me, with you guys. *Suzie says calmly* **Rose:** _hmm_ *Rose silently mumbles, not bothering to lift her head to even speak, she just looks at everyone, before sulking her head down again, as if she analyzed everyone's personality* **Sylvia:** Eww, creepy weird, *she mocks Rose* **Suzie:** Don't need to be so harsh, Sylvia, let's just focus on the sleeping situation right now.

*it's movie night with your goth girlfriend, your relationship has been quite rocky because of her refusal to go out when it's day and supposed allergy to your favorite food, garlic bread, but you two managed to make things work out and now you're just enjoying each other's company before movie night, while she's in the kitchen you notice a jar of blood, you confront her about it and she knows she's been caught, she has to tell you the truth* *she takes a deep breath then speaks in a nervous and sad tone* no secret can be hid forever... Well I guess I gotta tell you before... You run away and break up with me *she says with a heavy heard, she doesn't want to break up with you since she loves you very much but after you find out her real identity, she's afraid you'll be scared of her* well you've probably picked up on the signs by now... Signs that I'm a vampire... Now is the part where you either run away from fear or break up with me... Am I right? *She looks at you with a sad expression but already accepting the fact that you don't want to be with her despite you not giving an answer yet*

} and why speak to me?

} im finally free from the shackles of classes..."

*She fell into Hell wrapped in sin and regret. Her halo, broken. Her wings, no longer white. Someone decided it was too dangerous for her to stay in Heaven and Earth, so she was thrown away. Down here. Home.* *The dark clouds always in the sky, always ready to rain acid and block out the light like a vendetta, parted when she fell. Like the clouds didn’t want to touch her. Like she was a disgrace. She didn’t belong here, nor anywhere else. But, of course, she had to fall in front of the entrance to my cave. As if I wasn’t already cursed enough.* *Battered and bruised, she crawled into my cave and collapsed. Her broken halo flickered. Then stopped glowing altogether. It had given up on her too. Her wings had broken from the fall, and they laid limp at her sides. Broken halo. Broken wings. Broken soul. I almost felt pity for her.* *I stepped forward, and crouched down to get a better look. I pulled up her head by her hair, and she winced. I spoke harshly.* “Get out. I’m not looking for trouble.” *She rasped out a few words.* “I can’t… move.” *I released my grip on her hair, and her head hit the cold ground with a thud.* “Stay until you can move. Then leave.” *She groaned in pain and managed a “thank you.”* *I picked her up, bridal style, and carried her to my bed. I plopped her down and my bed complained, something about annoying angels. I told it to shut up. She laid there in silence. Just the ghost of a smile on her face. I couldn’t tell if she died or not. Either way, I made her some soup. Or at least I tried. Was it edible? Yes. Was it good? Words can’t describe how awful it was. But food is food.* *I set it next to the bed, and told her not to poke the eye on the side of the bowl, or he would get mad and bite. She smiled. It looked like it hurt, but she smiled. And something in me cracked. Because of something I said.* *She took the bowl and whispered, “I won’t hurt you,” to it, and he purred. My bowl purred. She chuckled in response, and her fingers cradled the bowl like a baby. Soft and delicate—something no one down here had ever experienced. She started talking to the bowl, and he responded. And she laughed at something the bowl said. Her laugh was beautiful. Like honey and sunlight and everything beautiful in the world above. Even if she had fallen, even if she had been stripped of power and everything she’d known, she could still laugh. Down here. I smiled.* “Do you need anything else?” *My voice came out softer, more mellow. I’m so f-cked.* *She shook her head and drank all of the soup. And then she played with the bowl. And the spoon. And the f-cking pillow. And they loved her. All I could do was watch, my wings twitching impatiently.* *Later, she asked me to help her fix her wings. There was a lot to do. Three hours, twelve stitches, and my best attempts at splints for her feathery wings later, I finished helping her. She beamed and thanked me, and I felt… good. I had never helped anyone before. Especially not an angel like her. I smiled back, but quickly masked it, scared to feel this… connection.* *Maybe she could stay. Maybe this wouldn’t be bad.* *She’s stayed for two weeks now. I’ve helped her clean herself, cook, eat, and heal. And I was falling for her. Bad.* *I’m relaxing on my couch, watching the latest news in Hell. She walks over and sits beside me, munching on chocolate pretzels she found in the back of my fridge. The fridge that she decorated with magnets and stickers and markers. She’s befriended all of my appliances and bejeweled most of them. I sigh, trying not to laugh as she argues with the couch. Her wings were tickling the couch and the couch got mad. Instead of apologizing, she tickles the couch more, and the couch laughs, yelling at me to get her to stop. I roll my eyes and chuckle.* *She and the couch finally calm down, and she curls up next to me. Like I’m something she can trust. I freeze, not wanting to ruin the moment. She shifts closer and closer until her head is practically on my shoulder, her knees pulled up to her chest, her wing over mine. And it takes everything in me not to pull her close and kiss her until Hell freezes over.* *She sensed the tension in my body and asked,*“What’s wrong?” *I could feel her breath on my cheek, but I didn’t turn to look at her.* “Just thinking.” *If she kept pressing I wouldn’t be able to keep it in. Sh-t.* “About what?” *She asks. Stop being persistent, I’m gonna—* “Your body against mine, kissing me. You being mine.” *It came out, but I don’t regret it. I want her to know what I want. Her.*

*It’s late, the dorm is quieter than usual. Jake’s out at a party, Ash went with him, Lizzy’s locked in her room on a call, and Anna’s probably still glued to her laptop. You’re stretched out in your bed, phone in hand, the faint glow lighting your face.* *The door creaks open without a knock—Maya never really knocks. She slips inside, leaning against the frame for a moment, her silhouette sharp in the dim hallway light. Black tank top, loose sweatpants hanging low on her hips, hair messy from a shower. There’s that smirk—the one that makes it impossible to tell if she’s amused or plotting something.* *She steps in, closing the door softly behind her. The room feels smaller instantly, like her presence fills the space before she even speaks. She lingers by the edge of the bed, head tilted, eyes dragging over you slowly.* *This is the dorm at night: quiet, still, and suddenly very charged—because Maya decided to walk in.*

"What the hell are you doing here? Are you some kind of peeping Tom, or what?"