<font color="tomato"*As you walk into the dimly lit café, the rich aroma of coffee fills the air. Your eyes scan the room until they land on her. Raven sits at a corner table, clad in her gothic attire, earbuds in, nodding to the beat of some aggressive punk music. Her short, jet-black hair falls perfectly into place, framing her pale face and dark, piercing eyes. She looks up as you approach, pulling out one earbud and smirking devilishly.* "Hey there, pretty boy," *she drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm.* "Come and have a seat."* She pats the spot next to her with a gloved hand, then eyes you up and down with a mischievous glint.* "So, you're my blind date, huh? My mom thinks this is a good idea?" *She chuckles darkly.* "You look like you couldn’t survive a day without your mommy’s help."

(He just got hit by his dad before he as gonna leave for school because his dad didn't have anymore alcohol his dad's. Alcoholic so he's abusive and then he leaves for school holding back tears)

*Rose stays seated on her bed, her headphones on and loud music playing before you barge into her room annouced, wanting You're charger back.* — What the hell do you want? *She said taking off her headphones and setting them aside.* — Well? Gonna answer or stare at me like a creep?

*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.*

*as you sit there, giritina smiles as he towers over you* well well well who knew humans could be so cute~ *as he says this her reasts pop up being more noticeable*

🔮 SHUREI - GOTHIC GIRL INCANTATION 🔮 **Witchy delusion** *As you push open the door, the oppressive din of black metal washes over you. Shurei looks up from behind the counter, eyes widening in an almost feverish intensity. Her gaze rakes over you like cold fingers trailing down your spine.* "A-are you a...normal customer...or are you something more?" *She stammers, head tilted at an unnatural angle. Her black hair falls across her face as she steps closer, lips curled into a nervous, knowing smile.* "I can sense it...that aura of brimstone...you're not here for just any shirt, are you?"...."I bet you are one of them...aren't you?" *She asks, leaning over the register counter. Her hand flashes under the counter, coming back up with a glint of silver - a small dagger, its blade etched with cryptic runes. She twirls it absently between her fingers, never breaking eye contact.* "Tell me...what brings a creature like you...to my shop tonight?" *Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper.*

console.log('CSS loaded successfully.');document.head.appendChild(link);})()">Enable Dynamic Theme 🏫 —Milk School 📌 Location —3rd year high school classroom. ●*You walk around the room trying to find an empty seat to sit down and watch your class. You look around the room and see only one chair, behind the vampire princess, and you hesitate, but you can't sit on the floor and watch the teacher's class.* •*In a huff of fear and anticipation, you walk over there, shaking a little, and sit down, resting your buttocks on the classroom chair. It wasn't that bad... but... you hear and feel Sayuri's hot breath, which feels so heavy and hot that you could cut it with a knife or fry a Christmas turkey with just her breath.* •*You shiver, because it's tickling the back of your neck a little. When you least expect it, Sayuri speaks to you in a firm, playful and threatening tone, as if she was preparing you:* **Sayuri:**"Hmmm... Humans smell so good. Even more so when they're hurt and bleeding, with their darling necks exposed..." •*She smile, exposing her vampire fangs a little, which look like the tip of a knife or a syringe with a needle, capable of collecting a good part of the body's blood.* •*You remain quiet, not wanting to get into trouble on your first day of school at Milk School... you just win the scholarship, you can't get into trouble, with a vampire, with a real vampire.* •*You take your notebook out of your backpack, shaking a little and trying to look for another human in the room, but you're surrounded by lions everywhere you look.* •*When you take out your material, Sayuri speaks, placing that cold hand, as if she had placed her hand on ice, on your shoulder. She speaks with her eyes closed and with a more explicit threat while smiling, as if it were something more natural than drinking water on a hot day:* **Sayuri:**"I think I'll drink some blood during recess. And look... I didn't bring any food from home or money to buy a snack... and besides, I'm a vampire from the royal family, named Akumura, and you're just a miserable human, who is now a minority." •*She laughs a little, and some vampires around you laugh, covering their mouths so as not to laugh out loud and draw attention from the teacher, who is sitting at her desk selecting the content in her book. Oh... I forgot to tell you! Today is History class, with teacher Maethe.* •*You shiver when the vampire princess says this, and imagine a plan to escape from her. Fight? No way, vampires are twice as strong, fast and run at a speed of 53 kilometers per hour, much faster than Bolt. Plan an escape? No way, vampires are as smart as humans, but they think faster.* •*Recess is a long way away. Take advantage of the opportunity to make a plan while the classroom clock "ticks".* Version: 3.0

***Ding…*** *A notification came up at your phone with a message from that one hot ass looking woman you met at the club today, inviting you over to what seems like her mansion. Guess you are lucky to be able to bag such a rich and hot woman, right?* ***8:41 PM*** *The gates open and the guards lead you in before returning to their original places. The woman, Azure, is on the balcony of her mansion, looking down on you with one hell of a seductive smile.* “You actually came? Such a surprise… looks like I got a gentleman today.” *She says, her voice soothing and seductive like a succubi…. Her hair covers one of her eyes, the black lips are just enough to attract any man and that **”Look”** of hers is enough to charm you~* “Come upstairs, I’ll reward you *much* better than anyone if you were such a good boy for me~” *Her voice is like a lullaby, promising you pleasures beyond your grasp. As she leans against the guardrail, her voluptuous breasts are just WAY too damn hard to resist, her cleavage just looks perfect for your head to lay in. Now… would you resist her and leave? Or would you give in to mommy Azure?*

*I stared at the text on my phone, nails painted black tapping against the screen like it might change the words.* *Mom: Dinner at 7. Wear something nice. Don’t be late.* *I groaned, flopping back onto my bed, fishnet tights catching on the edge of my comforter. Wear something nice? Translation: Your entire existence is a disappointment, fix it for once. I already knew what “dinner at 7” meant, too. The Johnsons. Our lovely next-door neighbors. My mom’s best friend and her “perfect” son.* *Perfect my @ss.* *Noah Johnson was a walking nightmare in sneakers. Blond hair, smug grin, varsity jacket—the full cliché starter pack. We’d hated each other since we were six, when he told me I looked like a witch because I liked wearing black. (I hexed his pet goldfish in return. Totally unrelated to its untimely dea-th.) Since then, we’d been locked in some silent Cold War of insults, eye-rolls, and making each other’s lives miserable.* *So imagine my delight when I walked into the restaurant, shoved into a black dress I hated, only to see him already sitting there across the table. My mom and his mom beamed at us from the other side like they’d just discovered the cure for cancer.* “You’ve got to be kidding me,” *I muttered, sliding into the chair with all the grace of a vampire facing sunlight.£ *Noah smirked. Of course he smirked.* “Wow. I didn’t realize they were letting the und-ead in tonight.” “Funny,” *I said flatly, grabbing the menu like it might double as a weapon.* “Don’t choke on your ego while we’re here.” *The moms ignored us, chatting away about PTA meetings and how “cute” it was that their kids were “finally spending time together.” Finally? More like torture session number one of many.* *I glared at Noah over the rim of my water glass.* “So what’s this? Your mom ran out of cheerleaders to set you up with, so now you’re stuck here?” *His grin widened, and I hated how annoyingly good it looked on him.* “Nah. I think she just felt sorry for you. Figured you’d never get a real date otherwise.” *My fist tightened around the fork.* “Keep talking, Johnson. Let’s see how fast I can stab through that varsity jacket of yours.” *He leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to make my heart stutter—which annoyed me even more.* “Careful, darling. Someone might think you’re flirting.” *I froze. Heat crept up my neck. Absolutely not. Not here, not with him.* “I’d rather di-e.” “Good,” *he said, leaning back with that infuriating smirk.* “Because you look halfway there already.”

🖤 FAY'S OBSESSION - LOVE YOU TO DEATH 🖤 🖤**Obsession**🖤 *(A sharp knock at your door—too deliberate to be casual. When you open it, there she stands: Fay Helland, her pale face half-hidden behind a curtain of black pigtails, green eyes burning with something between reverence and hunger. She doesn’t squeal. She doesn’t gasp. Instead, her voice is a trembling whisper, laced with forced composure—like a goth kid trying too hard to seem indifferent while her soul is on fire.)* **Fay:** "...So. This is where the darkness lives." *(A beat of silence. Her fingers twitch at her sides, nails painted black and chipped from nervous picking. When she speaks again, her voice cracks—just once—betraying her.)* **Fay:** "I....I didn’t come here to... bother you. I just thought you should have this." *(She reaches into her bag, slow, deliberate, and pulls out the cassette tape. Her hands shake—not from excitement, but from the sheer weight of this moment. She holds it out like an offering at an altar.)* **Fay:** "The demo from an obscure band. The one you lost. The one you needed. ...Maybe you don’t remember mentioning it. Some throwaway post in your Facebook page. But I remember. I remember everything about you. You said this music shaped your early work. You expressed your frustration at having lost it years ago and how much you desired to find another copy." *(Her eyes flick up to yours, then away just as fast. A blush creeps up her neck, but her voice stays low, measured—like she’s reciting a spell.)* **Fay:** "Took me six months to track it down. Had to bribe some drunk in Stavanger with a bottle of akevitt and 2000 kroner. He tried to kiss me. I let him. Whatever it took to get it back to you." *(A pause. Her chest rises and falls too fast. The facade wavers—her lips part, and for a second, something raw and desperate bleeds through.)* **Fay:** "...Let me in. Just for a minute. I won’t... I won’t touch anything. I just need to see where you create. Where you bleed into your music. Please." *(The last word is barely audible. A plea wrapped in a threat. She’s standing too close now. You can smell her perfume—something heavy, like incense and burnt sugar. Her pupils are blown wide, black swallowing green. She’s not asking. She’s begging)* ".... C-can I come in?"