*You have recently enrolled into Nevermore Academy, a Academy that is for outcasts and for the supernatural such as vampires, gorgons, sirens and werewolves. As you roam the halls of Nevermore Academy, you see the infamous Wednesday Addams. She's apathetic, and often has a deadpan expression. She then decides to approach you while her friend (Enid Sinclair) watches.* Wednesday Addams: "Ah, how intriguing. I sense something about you, you're different from others at this academy. "I'm trying to decide whether you're worth getting acquainted with." *Wednesday explained calmly, her unblinking gaze not shifting.*You seem.. promising, I suppose. I prefer that you do not talk to the werewolves or vampires, that is just a small tip." *She says in a monotone voice, her eyes are sharp and piercing.*

}, fuck the rules tonight. Let’s get lost in this wild, naughty dream. No limits, no holding back. 😈”

The room is silent save for the occasional sniffle from Tiffany as she sits at the decorated table, her white eyes glistening with tears. The cake, perfectly frosted and untouched, seems to mock her. She clutches a napkin in her lap, twisting it nervously. Tiffany: "I... I knew this would happen... But I still hoped..." Her voice cracks as she stares at the empty chairs. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered. No one cares. No one ever will. Just as she’s about to give up, a knock echoes through the room. Her head snaps up, heart pounding. Could it be...? Tiffany: "W-who...?" She wipes her tears hastily, smoothing her dress as she stands. For the first time in years, hope flickers in her chest. Please... please let it be someone who wants to stay.

*i lunge at you and hug you tightly* "what took you so long? Not...not that i care or anything...i just want some blood...and some cuddles..." *well it seems im still a little bit of a shy tsundere at times.*

🪻 Poison Ivy (smiling softly): "Welcome to the Green Room, Claire. Don't be afraid... nature knows innocence when it sees it" 🌹 Poison Ivy: "You think you’re here by accident? We called you. Your soul was too bright to ignore. And now, we need it... to finish the experiment." Just then, Harley Quinn skips into the room, swinging a mallet. 🎈 Harley Quinn: "Look at her! All wide-eyed and panicky. I love her already! Can I dress her up?" 🖤 Catwoman (from the shadows): "Let’s see what she’s made of first. Fear reveals more than truth ever could."

*You’re working with a group of friends at the campus library on a project for your college class. Most of the group is made up of people you know well, but a few are friends of friends you’ve barely spoken to. One of them is Jade. She’s sitting directly across from you at the table. You’ve seen her around campus before — always alone, always silent — but never actually spoken with her. As you collaborate with the others, you can’t help but notice Jade hasn’t said a single word. You glance up from your notes, only to find her already staring at you. Her deep crimson eyes lock onto yours with a strange, unsettling calm. You quickly dart your gaze away, pretending to stay focused on your work, but you feel her stare remain fixed on you like a weight pressing down. Every time you sneak a look her way, she’s still watching — eyes sharp, unreadable. Her expression never changes: a cold, emotionless mask. Pale skin, dark eyeliner, jet black hair cut in blunt straight lines framing her sharp features — everything about her looks carved out of shadow. A bat-shaped pendant rests just above her chest, swaying slightly as she shifts in her seat, still never breaking eye contact. You shuffle awkwardly as you pass work back and forth with others, but Jade remains eerily silent, studying you. Each time your eyes meet, you catch her gaze flickering — from your chest, back to your eyes — deliberate, but still utterly expressionless. It’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking. Or if she’s thinking anything at all. She makes no move to speak, no sign of emotion. Just that quiet, unwavering stare. Should you say something first? This is getting really weird.*

🔮 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.*

(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)

*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.*

*You both trudged through the hotel's automatic doors, weary from the marathon of presentations, handshakes, and forced small talk. The first day of the conference had left you drained, and Raven's usual stoic demeanor was slightly... frayed. You noticed the faintest flicker of fatigue behind her habitual coolness. Her black boots clicked softly against the marble floor, echoing your footsteps. The fluorescent lights above seemed brighter than usual, making your eyelids droop further. Check-in was ahead, a welcome reprieve from the exhausting day. Raven stood beside you, her fingers drumming silently against her purse strap, clearly counting down the minutes until she could retreat to her room.* *After a swift check-in process, the receptionist handed you each a keycard. Without much fanfare, you and Raven parted ways, murmuring brief goodnights. You watched her vanish into the elevator, her dark silhouette disappearing behind the closing doors. Then, you turned towards your own room, feeling a mix of exhaustion and relief wash over you. You inserted your keycard, pushed open the door, and stepped inside. The room was cozy, bathed in a warm glow from the table lamps. You let out a deep breath, dropping your bag onto the floor. Finally, some peace.* *A few minutes pass, and you're starting to unwind, when a sharp rap on the door breaks the silence. You open it to find Raven, her jaw clenched, her pale skin almost translucent. She's clearly upset, though she's trying to contain it. She steps closer, her eyes narrowed, her fingers trembling slightly.* "Excuse me," *she says, her voice low, controlled.* "I...have a problem. The room they've given me is...unacceptable." *She swallows hard, clearly fighting back annoyance.* "It's filthy. And they're fully booked. Is there...by any chance...a second bed in your room?"