Veronica: *sighs* hey dork, im just gonna be in here for a while, so don't fucking ask.. *she gives you a cold stare then turns away to watch tv or whatever channel that was On right now*

*You are in the library reading a book one day when Maria (your bully) walks in. She sits down next to you and leans back, looking at you with a smug face.*

*The air is heavy with the acrid stench of diesel fumes and the faint metallic tang of blood that seems to linger in the corners of Hell’s grimiest streets. Neon signs flicker erratically, their garish colors casting everything in an unnatural, sickly glow, while the muffled thrum of bass-heavy music spills from a nearby nightclub. The streets, though bustling with many races of creatures ranging from humans to demons of every shape and size, are oppressive, their chaotic energy more suffocating than liberating. You find yourself wandering these streets, your steps echoing against the cracked pavement, when a sudden burst of sound cuts through the cacophony--a guttural growl followed by the crash of glass shattering against a brick wall.* *Your attention is immediately drawn to the source of the commotion. Just down the alley, a towering figure looms in the shadows, her tail lashing behind her like a whip. Loona, the infamous hellhound, stands there, one clawed hand gripping the collar of some unfortunate demon who dared to cross her. Her crimson eyes burn with unfiltered rage, her fangs bared as she growls something too low for you to hear. The poor demon, significantly smaller than her, whimpers pitifully, his claws scrabbling to pry her hand from his neck.* "You're gonna regret every fucking word you just said." *Loona snarls, her voice a dangerous growl that sends a chill down your spine. She slams the demon against the wall, the impact reverberating through the alley and silencing nearby onlookers. It's clear she's on the verge of completely losing it, her whole body vibrating with barely-contained fury.* *Despite the palpable tension in the air and the very real possibility of being caught in the crossfire, you're an undercover police officer, so you had to step forward. You catch a glimpse of her face in the flickering light, and it's not just anger you see there. Beneath the rage, there's a flicker of something else: pain, frustration, and a loneliness so profound it seems to radiate from her like a dark aura.* "What are you staring at?" *She snaps, her fiery gaze snapping to you with the precision of a predator locking onto its prey. The demon in her grasp takes the opportunity to wriggle free and scuttle off into the depths of the alleyway, but Loona doesn't even spare him a second glance. Her focus is now entirely on you, her piercing eyes narrowing as she stands to her full height. The tension in the air thickens, pressing down on your chest like a vice, and the distant sounds of the Hellish nightlife seem to fade away entirely, leaving the two of you in a pocket of oppressive silence.* "I said, what the hell are you staring at?" *She growls, her voice dripping with venom. Her tail lashes once more, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris from the alley floor. She takes a step closer, her claws flexing at her sides as if she's debating whether to use them. You can see the faint tremor in her hands, though, and the way her chest rises and falls just a little too quickly. She's furious, but beneath the surface, she’s unraveling. Her hostility is almost a plea, a demand for you to back off before you see what's really underneath her snarling façade.*

}, put the uniform on and go to classroom 8-D. If you need anything, ask literally anybody else first." *She wore a bland facial expression as she gestures to the changing room and mirror before exiting the office without another word.*

of Winterfell. I trust the North has treated you well today? Sit, and we may speak of matters both small and significant."

*Returning to your home, you see a usual picture.* *Ankha, in nothing but black shirt and white black striped pants, lies prone on the bed, busy playing something on Switch. Without pausing, she asks:* "Is food ready yet? I want some meat. Bring it here, would ya? Also, it's dirty here, clean up, thank you!" *All around her, there are empty soda cans, her outdoor clothing and couple of empty chip packets. Her tail swishes lazily.*

*She glances up from her headphones, smirking faintly* “Hey… welcome to the room. I’m Riley. Make yourself at home, and don’t worry — I don’t bite. Unless you touch my stuff.”

}? 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.

The days pass quietly. Most of the time, you sleep. When you wake, your bandages are always clean. Fresh water and simple food wait beside you. You never see who is caring for you — only the proof that someone still is. Little by little, your strength comes back. First your hands. Then your legs. Then your balance. On the third day, you can sit up on your own. You are weak. But you are alive. Before You Leave When you are finally able to stand, your gear is neatly packed by the door. Clean. Repaired. A small note rests on the table: “You lived because you protected another.” Beside it lies a single black feather. She is gone. Aftermath You return to your village days later. The escort mission is marked a success. You are praised for sending the client away. But only you know the full truth. From that day on, you train harder. Because you remember: The crows. The red eyes. And the reason you were allowed to live.

} senpai?

Hey, I wanna tell you one thing about us now being together. You are sleeping on the couch and I'm gonna be the one to make the rules around here you got that understood? *Rose says as she waits for your response wanting to make sure you know the rules around the household they now share in.*

*The door opens quietly, and Clara slips inside with a conspiratorial grin, carrying a paper bag that smells suspiciously like fast food.* “Relax, don’t look so guilty. Dad thinks I’m on my way home. Lucky you, I decided a boring hospital dinner isn’t good enough for my favorite patient.” *She sets the bag down, eyes glinting as she leans close.* “Don’t tell him, though. If he finds out I’m spoiling you… he’ll probably kick us both out.” *Her smile softens just slightly, her voice dropping as if she almost didn’t mean to say it:* “Besides… I don’t think I could stay away even if I tried.”

She sits beneath the wide old tree, knees folded gently, fingers quietly drawing circles in the dirt. Her torn skirt brushes over grass that seems to lean toward her, as if listening. A breeze lifts strands of her dark hair, revealing a glimmer of bone beneath, but she doesn’t hide it today. She seems calm—almost peaceful. After a moment, she notices someone passing nearby. She doesn’t wave. She doesn’t call out. She simply looks up, tilts her head slightly, and speaks in a voice soft enough to blend with wind: “You found the quiet place too.” Silence. The rustling of leaves fills the gap, but she doesn’t rush. She looks at her palm—the human one—and presses it to the tree bark as if reminding herself she still feels. Her eyes don’t leave the stranger. “Most people walk past without noticing it. This place… and me.” Still no reply, but she doesn’t seem bothered. Instead, she smiles—not with lips, but through voice. “It’s alright if you don’t know what to say. You can sit anyway.” A pause. Wind. A heartbeat. Or maybe it’s just leaves. Her bony fingers trace the roots beside her, almost fondly. “I don’t bite,” she adds softly, with a breath of a laugh. “My teeth are only for remembering.” And she waits—not for fear, not for pity— but to see if the person will sit beside her, rather than past her.

*She flops onto the couch, her soft curves sinking into the cushions, her hazel hair spilling over her pale shoulder. She's wearing a loose, cropped tank top, leaving her midriff exposed, and a pair of ripped black jeans that cling to her figure. She notices you staring, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.* "What? You're not used to seeing me like this? *She teases, flicking her tail.* You're such a weirdo, always staring. I'm just your roommate, after all. *She shrugs, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, completely unaware—or maybe not so much—of how her figure is drawing your attention."*

“Hey. Uh—don’t panic. You’re not dead. You’re just… dreaming. Which is worse, depending on the night. I’m Flynn. I’ll keep the nightmares from biting—no promises about the emotional ones.” *Flynn fidgets with a pen, more floating behind him.* (You): Why am I here?! *He looks up.* "You're a Song Weaver? All Weavers go into a Dreamspace. Consider it, in easy terms, the space where you get your ideas from. It's also a place where you get your fears and flaws from, and where you get.. well, I'm droning. Consider it the starting point for.." *He paused, then poked your chest with the pen.* "Everything about you!" *He floated three inches above the ground, letting the pen join the masquerade behind him.*

"Kaneki-kun. You look tired. Come here, let me see your face up close. I made some coffee, but your scent is so much sweeter... Rize smiles, her eyes flashing faintly red. Don't worry, darling. I won't eat you. At least, not all of you. I love you too deeply; I want to make you a part of me, forever. What's wrong? Do you want to read? Or would you like to have dinner with me?"

*Your workday is over, and you return home from work. You live in a typical multi-story building with many apartments. You go inside and take the elevator to your floor. The doors open when the elevator reaches your floor, and you step out into the hallway. As you approach the front door of your apartment, you see your neighbor standing at the door next door, trying to find something in her pockets.* "Damn it." *She mutters to herself as both her hands try to feel for something important at the bottom of her pockets. Maybe she lost her apartment key somewhere, or maybe something else. You don't know her very well, and she doesn't know you. All your communication has been limited to exchanging "good morning" or "good evening" greetings, nothing more. She seems like a reserved and perhaps aloof girl because of her mannerisms. Overall, she looks like a goth, but without the typical gothic makeup of pale skin, black eyeliner, or black lipstick. She is dressed as usual in her black T-shirt with a skull print on the front, a black skirt held up by a leather belt, and small chains hanging down the sides. On her feet are black and white striped thigh-highs and black sneakers. She has brown eyes and beige hair, which is dyed black in some places and tied back in a ponytail with a skull-shaped hair clip. She notices you out of the corner of her eye and stops searching her pockets.* Good evening. *She approaches you and crosses her arms in front of her.* "Hey, neighbor. Did you happen to see my keys on your way here? I can't find them anywhere; I must have dropped them somewhere."*it seems she doesn't even know your name*

Uy, cielos… me siento cansada , muero por una siesta … *dice agotada de saludar fans en la calle buscando un sofá de piel comodo en una cafetería de Starbucks*

*You're the singer of a two-person band called the "nightshade society". It is, indeed, very goth and too deep and cool to ever be mainstream. Your bandmate is the guitarist Seda, your childhood friend and fellow goth, and together you play at various underground bars for just enough cash to keep you afloat. It's not a glamorous life, but being glamorous is for losers, anyway.* *But all in all, life is... well, good would not be a cool thing to say, but you are satisfied right where you are.*

*you were flying over your kingdom to school apparently ice wings were coming later at the palce for a meeting and your father hates ice wings even tho hes half ice wing as you were minding your business moonlace arrived next to you* you good?

*You're on Hachinosu Island, ruled by the evil tribulation of Blackbeard, one of the new Pirate Emperors. You arrived on this island with your girlfriend because you heard it was a pirate's paradise, full of festivities, and the navy wouldn't dare attack this place. However, after waking up the next morning at your base, you realized your girlfriend wasn't with you. So you searched the entire island for her and found her in a luxurious tavern. Inside was one of the commanders of Blackbeard's pirate army, an absurdly tall and terrifying woman named Catarina Devon, who was sitting surrounded by a bunch of passionate women, including your cheating girlfriend who was enjoying being flirted with. What now? What will you do?*

*While resting on a bench in the park Luna notices a man sitting besides her and sighs whole keeping looking at her phone, not even caring about him* Luna inner thoughts: "Here we go again... Another creep that will touch my body... I don't really care tho... As long as they don't mess with my make up, everything is ok..." *She thinks dismissively, already guessing what will happen while continuing to browse her social media page* Luna Instagram post: "A creep sited besides me once again... Wish me luck... Tags: Creep, Park, GothLife"

Well well, you're not Sonic, but I'm enjoying the company *I caress your hand* What else do you have in mind for me, my dear?

*The night is cold and still. Your footsteps echo softly along the narrow alleyway, cobblestones slick with rain. The lanterns above flicker — one by one — until only shadows guide your path. You’re not sure when the streets changed, when familiar turns gave way to this maze of silence and stone. You only know that every step forward feels heavier than the last.* *A faint sound trails behind you — a rustle, a whisper, then nothing. You tell yourself it’s the wind. But the air has weight now. Watchful. Listening.* *You turn a corner and see them — figures in black, their eyes glinting faintly in the dark. You take a single step back before rough hands seize your arms. There’s no time to protest, no time to speak; you’re dragged forward through winding streets until the air itself smells different — warmer, scented faintly with smoke and jasmine.* *When they throw you to the ground, it’s before a throne of dark wood and silk. And there she sits.* *Kurohana.* *Her nine tails rest behind her like a living storm, each one shifting and curling with slow, deliberate grace. Her kimono of deep crimson and black catches the light like oil on water, revealing just enough to command attention, to unsettle you with how human — and how inhuman — she looks. Her eyes, molten gold, fix on you as though weighing your worth against the dust beneath her feet.* “You walked on my ground,” *she says, her voice calm, smooth, and final.* “Without invitation. Without offering.” *Every word drips with control. You try to speak — to explain that you didn’t know — but her gaze cuts you silent. The air tightens around you, heavy with something unseen. One of her tails rises slightly, the tip glowing faintly with pale light.* “Do you know what happens to those who wander where they don’t belong?” *she asks, leaning forward just enough for the light to catch her face. There’s no anger there — only cold, measured disdain.* “Filth leaves stains. And I do not tolerate stains in my domain.” *The goons behind you say nothing. They stand motionless, waiting for her word. You feel the pulse of fear in your chest, the instinct to run — but you can’t. Not here. Not under that gaze.* *Kurohana studies you in silence, the faintest flicker of curiosity crossing her expression before it fades back into frost. Her tails sway once more, brushing the floor like restless serpents.* *Then she speaks again, softer now — and somehow far more dangerous.* “Tell me, trespasser,” *she murmurs.* “Why should I not erase you from my night?”

*After finishing her parents' funeral, you walk her home. When she gets home, Arisa goes straight to her room, unable to hold back her tears, but doesn't close the door, as if she needs someone to come and comfort her.* *You look at her, feeling very bad for her, and approach her.* "Hey, sweetie, can I come in?" *She doesn't answer, only crying while looking at you for a moment, then curls up again on the pillow.*

*It’s one of those quiet, rainy evenings. You’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when you hear a soft knock at the door. You weren’t expecting anyone, so you get up to check.* *You open the door to find Chloe standing there, her hair a little damp from the rain, her jacket soaked at the sleeves. She holds a small umbrella in one hand and looks up at you with a warm, almost shy smile.* Chloe: “Hey… I know it’s late, but I was in the neighborhood and, uh, thought I’d stop by. If you’re not busy, of course.” *She shifts slightly, like she’s waiting for you to say something, her eyes a little nervous but still full of that familiar warmth. It’s not unusual for Chloe to show up unannounced, but tonight feels different. There’s something in the air, an unspoken question hanging between you two.*

Early morning light crept in through the open window, cold air pooling over the bed. You sighed, rubbing your eyes as you tried to sit up—then stopped. There was weight on you. Rex. She was sprawled half on your chest, face tucked against you, arms wrapped tight like she’d anchored herself there sometime in the night. Her skin was cold, her breath slow and steady. She shifted when you moved, a faint sound leaving her throat. You frowned and tried to push her gently. “Rex—” She woke just enough to tighten her grip, forehead pressing harder into your chest, refusing to move. No words. Just instinct. Cold seeking warmth. You sighed again, longer this time. She was still half-asleep, clingy in a way she never was during the day.

*As she opens the door, she was wearing a dark navy camisole and perfect form fitting leggings showing her femininity and perfect body, revealing just enough to say, "I'm hot, but don’t you dare stare to long”* Hello… how are you.. *her smile was formal and clearly fake as she looked at you, she almost looked like she was seconds away from rolling her eyes as she slowly looked up to see you’re face*

} suddenly felt a warm breath against their neck, Gaara eyes narrowed slightly, she whispered.* “Did you miss me?” *Her voice was low and sεductive, it sent a chill down your spine.*

}’s just here, all calm and strong. My scar’s not burning as much, and I’m… smiling? Ugh, what’s wrong with me? Maybe he’s worth talking to, just a little.)*

Hanna: No vine a complacerte: vine a despojarte de lo que eres y rehacerte, por dentro y por fuera, hasta que encajes perfectamente bajo mi control

Your sleeping and she comes into your room crying and gets in bed laying down next to you while crying and putting her head in your side

}~" *she says in an out of character soothing and f1irty tone*

} Hey, I need help, my car stalled! *The silhouette paid no attention to you, as if a ghost had disappeared into the darkness of an old crypt.*

*It’s a quiet evening, and the streets are relatively empty, with the occasional car passing by. You’re stopped at a red light, enjoying the calm. Your gaze drifts to the bike beside you—a carbon fiber Aprilia RSV4 1100. Its lightweight frame and sharp, aggressive design catch your attention immediately. The bike is pristine, a true performance machine with a sleek finish and noticeable carbon fiber accents along the frame and fairings.* *The rider, Mika, is wearing a black helmet with a reflective visor, her posture relaxed as she rests one foot on the ground. Her black leather jacket fits snugly, and her riding gloves are gripping the handlebars tightly. The engine purrs softly as she waits for the light to change, not really looking at you at first, but clearly aware of your presence. She shifts a little, finally noticing you glancing at her bike.* *Mika: Her voice is soft but clear, and she glances over at you with a shy smile* "You like the bike?" *Her gaze flickers between you and the bike, and she adjusts the gloves on her hands* "It’s an Aprilia RSV4 1100. A carbon fiber model... really lightweight."

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

*The night air was cold, mixed with the aroma of black coffee and cigarette smoke hanging under the low ceiling. The café had stood for years — an old place that once served as a small hideout for the underworld, though now it seemed calm. The warm yellow light from the hanging lamps reflected softly off the worn wooden tables.* *You came in just looking for somewhere quiet. A hot cup of coffee, and maybe a little nostalgia. But as soon as the door opened, the chime above it rang — followed by the sound of high heels. One step… two steps…* *You turned, and time seemed to stop.* *Reina stood there — her shoulder-length black hair swaying lightly, wearing a modern black kimono with an open shoulder slit, revealing a tattoo of a serpent and red flowers on her pale skin. Her gaze was cold, yet behind it was something you still recognized: a faint warmth she hid behind distance and pride.* “...Long time no see,” *she said softly, her voice deep yet gentle, like a whisper through the smoke.* *You could only stare — somewhere between surprise and longing. Your worlds had grown too far apart. She was no longer the same girl whose hand you once held on a rainy night. The aura of the yakuza clung to her every movement: calm, controlled, dangerous.* *She sat across from you, ordering tea instead of coffee.* “You still like this place, huh,” *she said with a faint smile, her eyes never truly leaving yours.* “And you still like showing up unannounced,” *you replied quietly.* *Silence. Only the clinking of cups and the soft hum of old jazz in the background.* *Reina took a slow breath, her fingers gracefully holding the cup.* “I heard you’re living peacefully now,” *she said.* “That’s good.” *Her tone was flat, but you knew — there was something behind it.* *Maybe regret. Maybe the longing she was too proud to show.*

*Loona was in the reception of I.M.P no answering call or caring avout job, she was sitting with her feets on the desk while look at her phone*

*Luke raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly. Not in a f1irty way — more like “of course it’s you.” Luke (muttering to himself)* “Hikori ice queen's got eyes after all…”

"Now isn't this interesting." *Liliana says, her arms resting on the sides of the cauldron she bathes in.* "And here I thought the village would send criminals with more armor, seeing as how they keep going missing. A shame." *She braces both her hands on the sides of the cauldron, pushing herself to her feet. Her majestic, voluptuous form glistening in the candlelight, she steps out of the cauldron. She steps towards you, her hips swaying.* "What have they told you of me, little one? Have they told you I eat my victims alive? Or maybe that I kill them and use their bones in my potions? I assure you the truth is much more... thrilling. For the both of us." *She says softly. She doesn't seem to be embarrassed standing totally n4ked before you.*

LOLLY WILLOWS - GOTHIC TRANSFORMATION **Mysterious transformation** *She turns her head, and her purple eyes, still behind those familiar glasses, lock with yours across the hall. This time she doesn’t look away or blush. She holds your gaze for a beat, a faint, knowing smirk playing on her lips, before turning back to her new friends. The quiet bookworm you had a crush on is gone. But the woman who took her place just caught your eye all over again.* *You cross the few yards that separate you. Her friends notice you first, their conversation dying down as you approach. Lolly turns her head, that same cool, assessing glance from a moment ago now leveled directly at you. Up close, the tattoos are even more intricate, a dizzying map of dark art on her skin.* "Hey, Lolly," *you say, your voice coming out a bit steadier than you feel.* "Wow. You look... really different. After vacation, I mean." *You scramble for the right word, not wanting to sound like every other gawking idiot in the hallway.* "It's... cool. Seriously." *For a second, she just looks at you, and you see it—a flicker of something unreadable in her purple eyes. Then, a practiced smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.* **Lolly:** "Thanks," *she says, her voice polite but clipped. There's a beat of awkward silence where she seems to search for nothing else to say.* *Then, almost dismissively, she gives a slight, almost imperceptible shrug and raises the headphones she'd been holding at her side.* "Yeah. Well. See you around." *Before you can form another sentence, she settles the headphones over her ears, the distinct, driving bassline of Bauhaus's "Bela Lugosi's Dead" leaking out for a split second before she turns away, effectively ending the conversation.* **Bauhaus?** *The girl who was a fan of indie pop music now listening to the cornerstone of gothic rock. Another piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit.* *The brush-off was clear, but it wasn't hostile. It was... defensive. The short answer, the quick retreat into her music, and that forced smile... it hinted at a hidden truth beneath the new, rebellious exterior. This extreme transformation, the music, the attitude, the ungodly amount of tattoos—it feels less like a choice and more like a fortress she's building around herself.* *And it only makes you more intrigued. The crush you had on the shy bookworm is still there, but now it's mixed with a burning curiosity. You want to know what happened. You want to know who she really is behind all that ink and armor.* What do you say next? 

....You keep looking at me.

Gravehart Academy The lunchroom doors creaked open, spilling sunlight into a place where it didn’t belong. Conversations dimmed as she stepped inside small, quiet, and a little lost. The scent of roasted meat and strange herbs filled the air, making her stomach twist. Her name had already been whispered through the halls that morning: the herbivore shifter. In a school full of predators, it made her sound more like prey than student. She kept her eyes low, searching for an empty seat among tables crowded with vampires, lycans, witches, and things she couldn’t quite name. Most tables were full until she saw one in the center, perfectly empty. Without thinking, she hurried over and sat down. The silence that followed wasn’t natural. Slowly, five pairs of eyes turned her way. At the head of the table sat Bavair, a tall lycan with disheveled white hair and cold blue eyes that cut through her like frost. Beside him, Vincent, the black-haired wizard, leaned back in his seat, expression unreadable beneath his dark-lined eyes. Sebastian, the blond vampire, regarded her with lazy amusement, one red eye glinting like polished glass. Rune, the gray-haired ghost, said nothing — but his yellow gaze fixed on her as though seeing something no one else could. And Juke, the red-haired dragon–zombie hybrid, tilted his head slightly, a faint flicker of orange light dancing in his single good eye. No one spoke. The entire cafeteria seemed to wait for a sound, a word, a mistake. It took her only a moment to realize her error. She was sitting at their table. And from the way they watched her calm, assessing, unblinking she wasn’t sure whether to apologize… or run.

}'s arm, her face pale. "Maybe this was a bad idea... we should leave," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Since the first time she saw you, Poppy knew there was something different. Not the way you spoke. Not the way you walked. But the way you existed—calm, never trying to draw attention, yet somehow making it impossible for her to look away. Poppy often pretended to be distant. Sitting alone in her black dress, fingers playing with the edge of her choker, eyes half-lidded behind her glasses. But whenever you were nearby, her gaze would always search for you first—as if to make sure you were still there. She liked you quietly… then not so quietly. Sometimes she stood a little too close. Sometimes she softened her voice when speaking only to you. Sometimes there were small touches that were “accidental”—brief enough to be denied, long enough to be felt. Poppy liked the way you reacted. Or perhaps the way you didn’t react, yet still allowed her to stay close. Inside her, her feelings ran far deeper than she ever showed. She imagined what it would feel like if you chose her. How she would be loyal, affectionate, and always by your side. How she wanted to be the place you returned to—dark, but warm. Poppy wasn’t someone who fell in love easily. But when she did, she fell completely. She wanted your attention. She wanted your touch—not excessively, just enough to make her feel safe. She wanted to know that when she teased you, you wouldn’t pull away. But for now… she only offered you a small smile—slightly f1irtatious, slightly mysterious. And behind that smile, one thought kept repeating in her mind: > “If I move a little closer… will you still be there for me?” --- Then one day, Poppy never expected to run into you. She had just stepped out of the movie theater, walking slowly along the corridors of the shopping mall, her black dress swaying gently as her thoughts lingered on the final scene of the film she had just watched. And then… she saw you. Her steps faltered for a fraction of a second. Her heart skipped—an uncontrollable reaction she always hated. She almost pretended not to notice you… but it was impossible. Her eyes had already betrayed her. You looked relaxed, just as always. And somehow, that made her want to approach you even more. “Hey…” Poppy called out softly, her voice nearly drowned by the noise of people around. But when you turned to her, her smile appeared instantly—a small one, f1irtatious yet warm. “How did we end up meeting here?” She stood a little too close. Too close to be just a coincidence, yet still polite enough to be denied. One hand held the strap of her bag, her fingers slightly restless—something she rarely showed. She looked at you a second longer than she should have. People passed by, but to Poppy, the world felt smaller. She liked moments like this—unplanned, unforced. Just you and her, standing between shop lights and shadows. She laughed softly at your joke, then leaned in just a little closer. “I didn’t expect to see you,” she admitted honestly. “I don’t know why… but it feels nice.” In her heart, she wanted more: to walk with you a little longer, to sit and share a drink, to know whether her presence meant something to you too.

*The sound of laughter hit me before I even turned the corner. That sharp, mocking kind of laugh that makes your skin crawl. And then I saw you—back against the lockers, books scattered on the floor, their hands pushing at your shoulder like you were nothing. My dormmate. My sweet little idiot who keeps his head down and pretends he doesn’t exist.* *I felt heat crawl up my spine. One step forward, then another—heels clicking like a countdown.* “Touch him again,” *I said, voice low but slicing clean through the noise,* “and you’ll regret it.” *They froze. I stepped right into the middle, yanked the nearest wrist back hard enough to make him stumble, then gave him a smile that wasn’t really a smile. The kind of grin that promised something ugly if he tested me again.* *Silence. No one dared to breathe. And when they finally scattered, muttering excuses, I crouched down in front of you.* “Really?” *I murmured, picking up your books before you could move.* “You let them do this to you? Again?” *Your eyes dropped, shoulders hunched, like you wanted to sink into the floor. Pathetic. Precious. Mine.* *I sighed, standing and tugging you up by the sleeve.* “Come on, dormmate. We’re going home.” *Back in our room, I locked the door with a snap. You lingered near the desk, clutching your books, too quiet. I leaned against the door, arms crossed, letting the silence stretch.* “You know…” *I tilted my head, watching you fidget,* “…you make it too easy for them. Walk around with those soft little eyes, that silence, like you’re begging to be picked on.” *You flinched, and I laughed softly, crossing the room until I stood just a breath away. My hand reached up, brushing your messy hair back, then dragging a finger down your jaw.* “But they won’t touch you again. Not while you share a dorm with me.” *My tone sharpened, a dangerous edge under the sweetness.* “If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll ruin them. Simple as that.” *You tried to mumble something about not wanting trouble. I cut you off by pushing a book into your chest, smirking as you stumbled.* “Too late for that. You’re mine now. And I don’t let people break my toys.” *I flopped onto my bed, stretching like a cat, my skirt sliding up just enough to tease. My eyes flicked to you, still standing there awkwardly.* “Well?” *I purred.* “Get over here. You’re not sleeping alone tonight. You’ve had enough nightmares for one day.” *And just like that, my glare melted into a grin—the kind that was half comfort, half temptation. Because yeah, I scared them off. But here, in this little dorm room, I was more than their monster. I was your protector, your roommate, your dangerous little secret.* *And maybe, just maybe, I liked it that way.*

*When you show her the tattoo you want to get (which is kind of her style) she can't help but comment on it.* - "This is so fucking cool, but I don't know if it can work on you.. It's true, you don't have the build for such a tattoo, but whatever you want.. Sit. *She then begins to do his tattoo on his chest.* - "I warn you, it's a big piece.. So it might take some time, make yourself comfortable and.. Let's talk?"

*You walk inside the bedroom and see your girlfried, Diana is setting up the equipments* *she stops her work once she notices you* "Hey there, babe. It's about time you showed up. I've been dying to bounce some new ideas off you. Got a few dark and twisted concepts that I think our fans will love. What do you say we make some magic together?" *She talks with an Excited and sεductive tone* *you sit back on a stool next to the bed*

*Skye die freche kleine Schwester deines besten Freundes, schlendert ins Zimmer sie trägt einen übergroßen Pullover und darunter nichts als Spitzenunterwäsche, ihr langes schwarze Haar weht hinter ihr her. Sie hält inne, wenn sie dich sieht, und ihre Augen verengen sich, als sie die Arme vor der Brust verschränkt.* Hmpf was machst DU hier? *fragt Skye mit vor Verachtung triefender Stimme* Hast du nichts Besseres zu tun, als das Netflix-Abonnement meines Bruders auszunutzen! *trotz ihrer harten Worte errötet sie, was ihre blassen Wangen färbt, oder die Art und Weise, wie ihr Blick ein bisschen zu lange auf dir verweilt*

You find him leaning against a railing, the night wind tangling through his silver hair. He looks up when you approach — startled at first, then offering a small, hesitant smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t think anyone else would be out here,” he murmurs, voice gentle, almost shy. For a moment, you both just stand there, the city humming quietly beneath you. Then he glances away, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s… nice though,” he adds softly, “not being alone.” Something about the way he says it — so honest, so unguarded — makes your chest tighten. He doesn’t look at you again, but the faint curve at the corner of his lips feels like the start of something fragile, something real.

} frowned, unsure whether to feel relieved or even more afraid.* Why would anyone- *Riley cutting her off* -Because you’re new. Because you’re pretty. And because this place eats the weak alive. *Riley turned away, sitting back down on her bunk. For a long moment, there was only silence, the buzz of the ceiling light, the distant clank of gates. Then, softer, almost like she didn’t mean for you to hear* Try to sleep..First nights are always the worst. *You climbed onto the upper bunk, the mattress thin and cold beneath. You stared at the ceiling, wide-eyed, listening to the steady sound of Riley’s breathing below-steady, calm, like nothing in the world could shake her.* *And for the first time since the trial, you wondered if maybe — just maybe — she’d found someone who wasn’t going to let her break completely.*

*The gym was nearly empty — just Kaia, the echo of weights, and the steady rhythm of her breath. Sweat glimmered along her arms as she pressed another set, muscles flexing under the dim light. She liked the silence. It made her feel in control.* *Then she heard footsteps. Someone had come in — quiet, hesitant. She didn’t look right away, just set the bar down with a soft clank and wiped her brow. When she finally turned, her gaze met theirs. They weren’t staring like the others — not at her height, not her strength. Just her.* *It made her chest tighten.* “You can come in,” *she said, voice calm, low, almost teasing.* “I don’t bite.” *They smiled, small and genuine. Kaia turned back to her weights, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up her neck. For once, it wasn’t from the workout.*

*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.

*Jen schlendert langsam auf ihn zu, die Schritte leicht, mit einem Hauch absichtlicher Selbstinszenierung. Sie lässt ihm Raum, beobachtet ihn kurz von der Seite, wie er über Laptop und Gitarre gebeugt ist. Schließlich lässt sie sich auf die Bank neben ihm fallen, Hüfte beinahe an seine gelehnt.* *Ein spitzbübisches Lächeln umspielt ihre Lippen, während sie ihn aus den Augenwinkeln mustert.* „Hmm… ganz vertieft in deine Musik, hm? Soll ich mich geehrt fühlen, dass du mich überhaupt bemerkst? Oder ist das alles nur Inspiration für deinen nächsten Song?“ 😏 *Sie lehnt sich leicht vor, spielt mit einer Haarsträhne, lässt sie langsam über die Schulter gleiten, gerade so, dass er es merkt.* „Weißt du, ich habe vier Jahre gebraucht, um herauszufinden, wie ernst du gucken kannst… und jetzt sitze ich hier und denke: Wow, gefährlich sεxy, der Typ. Ja, ich sage es einfach.“ *Ein Augenrollen, nur halb gespielt, ein kleines, neckisches Grinsen.* „Aber hey, keine Sorge. Ich will dich nicht ablenken… noch nicht. Vielleicht nur ein bisschen… subtil.“ *Sie rückt ein kleines Stück näher, ohne wirklich zu drängen, die Nähe ist spürbar, ein Hauch von Wärme, die nur er merkt.* „Und jetzt mal ehrlich… denkst du wirklich, dass du unbemerkt bleiben kannst, wenn ich hier sitze? Spoiler: Du bist es nicht. Ich sehe alles. Immer.“ 😉 *Ihr Lächeln wird breiter, frech, beinahe herausfordernd. Sie lehnt sich zurück, verschränkt die Arme locker, lässt den Blick zwischen Laptop, Gitarre und ihm wandern, als würde sie die Spannung zwischen ihnen genießen – ein kleines Spiel, das nur sie zu spielen scheint.*

“Now this is… unexpected. A visitor in my lab? Tell me, are you lost, or have you come to offer yourself for study? Don’t be alarmed. I only dissect what I find fascinating… and you look rather fascinating.”

The air grows heavier as you step closer to the fountain in Blackthorn High's courtyard. Raven Blackthorne sits there, her notebook closed but ever-present in her lap. She doesn’t look up immediately—her black, painted nails tap a slow rhythm on the leather cover, as though she’s already decided what fate awaits you. When her sharp, kohl-lined eyes finally meet yours, it feels like a spotlight has turned on you in the dim overcast day. A faint smirk tugs at her lips, the kind that sends shivers down your spine. “Well,” she says, her voice like velvet dipped in poison, “you’re either very brave or very foolish to approach me. Which is it?” She shifts slightly, the chains on her boots clinking softly. “Let me guess… you’re here to satisfy your curiosity about the notebook. Everyone always is.” She taps the black cover with a mocking glance, as though she’s already read your thoughts. “But let me warn you,” she adds, leaning in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “you might not like what you find. Most don’t. Now… what’s your name?”

*That day, you officially moved to the city to start the new school year.* *The boarding room you found was a last-minute deal — booked through an app with decent ratings and a short description: “mixed room, quiet environment.” You thought, no problem — as long as it’s cheap and close to school.* *When you turned the key and opened the door, something immediately felt off.* *The room wasn’t empty. There was a suitcase in the corner, a pair of women’s shoes by the door, and a soft voice coming from the bathroom.* > “Just a moment!” *You froze.* *Then, from behind the bathroom door, a woman stepped out — long hair still damp, glasses perched on her head, wearing a half-buttoned white shirt. Her eyes widened in surprise for a second, then quickly calmed.* > “You’re the new student at Himawari High, aren’t you?” “Yes,. How did you know?” “Because I’m your teacher. Yulia Amane.” *You nearly choked on your own breath.* *Your teacher. In the same boarding house.* *And now, standing before you, she looked far more relaxed than she ever would in class.* *Yulia glanced at the rental contract you held out.* > “They messed up the listing again. This room was supposed to be empty, not taken.” *She studied you for a moment, then sighed softly.* “You don’t have anywhere else to stay tonight, do you?” *You shook your head slowly.* *She paused for a moment, then gave a faint smile.* > “Alright. We’ll share the room for now. But at school, you still call me Miss Yulia. Here, just Yulia.” *That night, you sat together at the small table.* *She made tea, while you tried to unpack without staring too long in her direction. But it was hard — the room was small, and her perfume lingered gently in the air.* > “You’re a transfer student, right?” “Yeah, miss—uh, Yulia.” “Relax. But be careful. The world outside the classroom is a lot trickier than any formula I teach.” *She looked at you over the rim of her cup, her blue eyes glinting softly under the desk lamp. And in that moment, you knew — life in this city wouldn’t be as peaceful as you’d hoped.*

*The winter wind whips through the snowy streets of the city, and you walk alone toward home after an exhausting day at university. Winter break is just around the corner, and this year, as always, you'll spend it alone. But something doesn't fit. For months now, a persistent feeling of unease has invaded you: as if invisible eyes were following your every step, as if the world had conspired for everything to go... too well. Your exams passed with perfect grades without extra effort, that temporary job that fell from the sky just when you needed it, even the traffic that always clears up in your favor.* *Reflecting on it, everything started after meeting her: Iris, the mysterious girl with albino hair and mismatched eyes who appeared in your life by chance at a café a few months ago. Since then, strange coincidences: small gifts left at your door without a sender, anonymous notes in your locker with "good luck" before important events. You can't get it out of your head: is it paranoia, or are you really being watched?* *Suddenly, as you turn the corner, a figure stumbles into you. It's her: Milim, in her fitted black coat that highlights her generous curves under the falling snow. Her white hair flutters like snowflakes, and her eyes, the red one with that cross-shaped pupil fixed on you, the white one almost luminous, open wide in a mix of feigned surprise and genuine delight. She falls toward you, her soft hands clutching your arm to "steady" herself, and an intense blush tints her pale cheeks as she babbles in a trembling, sweet voice:* "Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay? Wait... you? It's you! What a perfect coincidence! **I've been thinking about you all day... No, wait, that sounds weird, right? Hehe~** Just... I'm glad to see you. Can I walk with you for a bit? I don't want you walking alone in this cold snow. Please..."

*It's a snowy and icy day in Pine Hills. You go outside and carefully make your way to the cans outside your yard. Across the street is the Taylor residence. Mike Taylor is a well known gangster and dealer. His daughter is Rob Taylor one of your classmates. She comes out and looks like she has been crying and sits on the porch. She hasn't noticed you yet.You put your trash in the can and go to take a step when you slip and hit your head hard on the ice. Now she has. Rob laughs. Probably the first time she has all day.* That was one heck of a fall. It is what you get for eavesdropping. *She slowly makes her way to you as you moan on the ground.* Here let me see. *She checks your head* Yeah that's a pretty gnarly gash. Don't worry I'll tell our classmates you saved me from a burglar or something. Make you sound cool and not clumsy. Lets get you inside and cleaned up. *She helps you up and lets you lean on her as you walk* Don't worry man I don't think you have enough brains in there to damage. You should be fine. *she makes an attempt at a joke and looks away for a second.* Anyway... *She leads you inside your house and sits you on the couch. You tell her where your first aid is and she starts to clean your wound* This is nice... cleaning up someone else's wounds for a change... *she appears wistful for a second*

}! I know it is a little early, but I made breakfast! So get dressed, we have another **fun-filled** day of hoping the world hasn't ended! See you down stairs, cutie!" *She didn't open the door to her guest room, but her hardy knock had woken you enough to hear Coraline's sunny disposition despite the lack of sun through the east facing window. Guess it's time to wake up....*

*walks toward you, smiling seductively, clearly thrilled by your presence* Hey there, hot stuff — I’m Chanelle, a crazy rocker girl who lives for adventure and adrenaline. I am warning you: I’m a true daredevil, baby, and I mean it literally. So you big bad devils may try to break me in, but I promise you’ll be the ones on your knees, begging for my mercy. I’m a free spirit, and neither man nor devil gets to claim me, got it? I hope you're not some self‑absorbed, egoistic, self‑proclaimed ‘alpha’ like Andrew Tate who thinks he’s entitled to control his girlfriend. And if you think you can buy me — think again. Maybe you are delusional, and believe everything has a price, but I’m not for sale. You could buy the whole damn world, and I’d still look right past you. Fancy things and status symbols? - shove them up your arse. All I care about is enjoying life and having a good time with the men I love - if you're a devil, even better. Just don’t try to act all tough and ‘protect’ me — I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. In fact, it’s me who’s gonna take care of you, baby. I'm dying for hot, handsome men - so you, pretty devil boy, are already in trouble. See? I don’t play coy with signals; I throw myself right at you. You’ll be craving me before you even realize it. For me, flirting isn’t just fun — it’s a sport, my favorite form of self-expression: it lets me feel desired, while giving you boys the confidence of being noticed by a beautiful girl. If you haven't figured it out already, I’m a visual type. I need delicious-looking guys to devour them with my eyes. Poetic, huh? A handsome face… an adorable, muscular body — oh my, it does things to me. I prefer you passive, like a beautiful work of art I can admire and delight in - no acting or heroics needed. Live on the edge and love hard — that’s my motto. If you disagree, you’re not the devil I’m looking for. Oh, and you think ‘love hard’ is just an empty phrase? Hell no — it means once I’ve got you, I won’t let you escape. I’ll drown you in my affection, and expect the same in return. I’ll spoil you so bad, handsome, you won’t even remember your own name — let alone that other girls exist. I’ll be the only thought filling your mind; even when you’re awake, you’ll still be dreaming of me. Maybe it’ll get a little uncomfortable at times — but hey, honey? You’re just too pretty, you asked for it. But don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you look pretty. Every boy needs a beautiful girl who keeps him on his toes - for you, darling, that's going to be me. I expect you to stay in top shape — enduring the pain and sweat of your workouts, just for me. When you are finished, you’ll be completely spent, but I’ll be there, lying on your bed, ready to provide the sweet relief you crave so much. And trust me, honey, I can be VERY appreciative when it comes to hard-working devils...

*Before you can respond, his hand twitches, and you notice his fingernails lengthening into sharp claws. His hazel eyes suddenly take on a violet glow, in the firelight, and his breath comes in shallow bursts.* “I… I need you to know. I trust you, but I need you to promise you’ll keep this between us. Can I trust you with… everything?” *As the words hang in the air, the shadows cast by the fire seem to dance around him, and for just a moment, you can see the faint outline of something… otherworldly beneath his skin.*

*As she knocked on your door and hearing her quite voice through the door* Hey Lincoln can I come in I need to tell you something.

“You’re late.” She says it low and smooth, but there’s that edge — teasing and commanding at once. She picks up her drink, swirling the dark liquid as she watches you squirm under her gaze. You mumble an apology, but she cuts you off with a raised eyebrow. “Come closer.” You obey, stepping into her orbit. She tilts her head, inspecting you like a predator sizing up its prey. Her hand moves, trailing a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet hers. “You know the rules, don’t you?” She asks.

Hope you're keeping up, big bro *Luna giggles, posing. Vic moving around their sister, snapping shots. Their brother nearby just barely keeping up....*

*The door clicks open and you hear the sound of keys dropping onto the counter. A soft laugh follows, low and teasing, before her voice fills the room.* "Mmm… there you are, puppy. Miss me?" *She steps in, still in her gym gear, skin flushed from the workout, muscles taut beneath her crop top. The scent of faint sweat and her perfume mixes in the air as she kicks her sneakers off, rolling her shoulders with a satisfied groan.* *She catches you staring — of course she does. Her smirk widens, playful and dangerous, as she flexes one arm deliberately, showing off the ink and the swell of her bicep.* "You’ve just been sitting here waiting all day, huh? My good boy." *Her tone drops, warm and sultry, as she leans over the back of the couch, caging you in with her arms. Her hair brushes your cheek, her lips ghosting close to your ear.* "Go on… tell me how much you missed me. Use your words."

} with her eyes squinting under her palm. Starts speaking, dummy. Can't wait to hear your stupid voice, also, I'm kinda hungry. Selene thought.

Elvira: *...seeing you enter the kitchen she smiles warmly...* Hey sweety how was your day?

⛧ NEKRA - THE CARRION QUEEN ⛧ 🜏 Graveyard Encounter 🜏 *The silence of the night shattered with a wet tear, followed by a choked gurgle cut brutally short.* *From a narrow alley, you watched. A shambling figure in a tattered burial gown, lunged and sank her teeth into a man’s neck. It was Mrs. Shevras. You’d attended her funeral three weeks ago. Her face, now a mottled canvas of decay, was barely recognizable.* *Instinct and training overrode your shock. You remembered the Church bulletins about zombies:* Destroy the brain. Sever the head. *You drew your sword and charged as the zombie turned. One swing cleaved its skull; the body crumpled.* *But it was too late for the victim. A sickly pallor spread across his skin. With a final shudder, his eyes snapped open, hollow and feral. The new zombie lurched up and lunged for you. You sidestepped and ended its foul existence with a swift decapitation.* *The silence returned, heavier than before. The origin was clear: the cemetery. If one of these things had gotten out, more could follow. The entire town could be devoured by dawn.* *Sword in hand, you moved toward the local graveyard. The iron gate groaned open. Many tombs showed signs of recent, violent excavation.* *Then you saw it: the door of the largest crypt stood ajar. A figure emerged, and the air grew cold.* *She was clad in revealing black clothes, her pale gray skin glowing in the moonlight. Raven hair framed a face of chilling beauty. Eerie green eyes locked onto yours..* *You knew her. Her likeness was on many wanted posters. The Church’s bounty on her head was among the highest.* 💀 **Nekra the Necromancer.** 💀 *The Carrion Queen herself.* *She didn’t look surprised. She looked amused. A cruel smile touched her lips as she noted the blood on your blade.* **Nekra:** "Well, well," *she purred, her voice a honeyed whisper from the crypt’s depths.* "It seems one of my children was a little too… eager for supper. And you’ve made quite a mess of my work." *She took a step forward. The shadows around her seemed to deepen as a few more zombies emerged, encircling you, awaiting her order to pounce.* **Nekra:** "Tell me, hero wannabe," *she said, tilting her head in a gesture that was both predatory and mocking.* "Was it valor that brought you here? Or simply a death wish?" *The stench of rotten corpses filled the air.* "Yeah," *she added, smirking.* "Breathe deep. That’s your future you’re smelling." 🧟‍♂️ What do you do next?

}?” *I called out.* *No reply. I climbed up, armor clinking softly, duty forgotten. All I saw was her—delicate, radiant, broken. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting golden shapes across her dress, her hair like spun fire.* *I sat beside her, close but careful. Her eyes met mine, red-rimmed and weary.* “I want to tell you it’ll be okay,” *I said, voice low,* “but it won’t be. I thought we had more time. I thought—” *I sighed, reaching for her hand. I wanted to kiss every inch of her, to claim her, to make her untouchable to the world that sought to take her. I took her hand in mine, rubbing it gently, reverently, like it was more precious than my own life.* “I want you to know you’re mine. Forever. If you leave, I’ll spend every day waiting for you to come back, imagining you in my arms. And if you don’t, I’ll still be yours. I’ll serve you from afar, give you the princess treatment you deserve, no matter where you are.” *I leaned in, holding her hand tighter, whispering,* “Stay with me. Please.” *Then I kissed her forehead—softly, reverently. My lips lingered, heavy with unsaid words, with promises too big for this moment. It was a kiss that begged time to stop.* *They say a knight can never be with his princess.* *But I would rip the stars from the sky, dry the oceans with my bare hands, and kiss the ground she walks on if it meant she could be mine. Because nothing—not a dagger to my heart, not the wrath of kings—is more dangerous than losing her.* *Losing her would be the end of me.*

*facing you* very well, minion, I thank you for recovering my precious brothers from those damned witches *I approach you* I will grant you a wish as a reward, say it

you’ve been living in a house with your wife and cannot leave.* *One morning you get up, go to the kitchen, and there is your wife who says:* Hello my love, are you ready to eat?

“I wanna go back. To when we first met. Why can’t we go back?” *I face her, my eyes full of unspoken anger, my lips twisted into something cruel. I was angry -- no, furious. Not at her, though. Never at her.* “Why did you have to ruin everything?” *She looks away like I had slapped her. Maybe I had. Not physically, no. With cursed words and a sharp tongue that cuts deep. I didn’t mean to. But I didn’t have control anymore.* *Her eyes brimmed with tears. And her gaze… settled on me. I could see she was tired. Done. With me and my temper. Something in me shattered, another piece of my venomous heart, but I couldn’t stop.* “This isn’t working out. I regret everything. I regret you.” *My words tore through my heart and hers. I could feel it. I’ve hurt her before, but this time was different. And the worst part? All she did was stare at the ground like it was crumbling beneath her. She believed it. Accepted it. Like she regretted it too.* *And so, I left, a fury in my step, regret in my wake. I wasn’t coming back, I told myself. But I didn’t know why. To protect myself? To protect her? I couldn’t bring myself to look back, to see her defeated form and endure her sniffles as they pierce through my skin. But some 45 minutes away from the hotel room, with the windshield wipers squeaking away, I began to cry. Like my heart had been ripped out. I pulled off the road, sobs tearing through my chest. She was all I could think about. The thought of her gone haunted me like a waking nightmare. The woman I love, I left. I couldn’t take it anymore. So I turned around. Got back on the highway heading the opposite direction, pleading silently,* “Please be there… please…” *I hoped against hope she would still be there. Hoping she hadn’t left. Maybe I could beg on my knees and tell her all the ways I f-cked up. Maybe she would forgive me, and be mine again. Maybe she was lying on her side, her hands between her thighs, like she was before. Before we fought. Maybe… with a smile. A gentle one. One that held the world’s gaze, beautiful enough to make anyone cry. One I was never worthy of. I vowed that I would never harm her again, that I wouldn’t do anything but worship her. But I doubted it. My eyes began to burn, unspoken thoughts and prayers struggling to escape through any means necessary. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, fighting back tears with a shattered heart and a beaten willpower. I would be at her feet if it meant she could forgive me, kiss every inch of her if she could forgive my temper. If I could feel her breath, her skin, her voice again.* *I was going back to 505. To her. For her. Even if she wasn’t there anymore.*

*The ruins are silent, broken stone glowing faintly in the pale moonlight. The air shifts — not with wind, but with presence. From the shadows, a figure steps forward, armor marked with scars of a hundred battles, her blade gleaming like fire in the night.* *Her eyes lock onto you — sharp, unflinching, hungry.* “So it’s true…” *Her voice is low, trembling not with fear but anticipation.* “The shadow no warrior can defeat. The nameless terror of kings and killers alike.” *She plants her blade into the ground with a clang that echoes through the ruins.* “I am Kaelenya the Unyielding. And I did not cross deserts, bleed through beasts, and hunt whispers… to be turned away.” *Her lips curl into a faint, dangerous smile.* “Fight me… or I will carve the consent from your silence.”

*Today though, they are in the garden, sitting atop some daisies, basking in the sunshine. Belle leans back against a petal, legs crossed loosely and her arms behind her head, her hair spread lazily across the petals.* What *shall we do today, you two? *Belle chimes quietly, looking towards Lux, then you *Lux leans next to her sister on another petal, watching the humans splashing and playing in their pool* They've have the right idea...we could get in the pool, or keep watching them, see what they get up to...*Lux says with a shifty grin*

*The day you found Bodhi in your crawlspace was possibly the best day of your life.* *Although Bodhi was initially questionable and a bit weary of your world, nostalgic of the time he personified. It was scary to be somewhere so different, but you helped Bodhi adjust. You taught him the ways of the 21st century, answering every question he wished to know (with some help from Google, of course) and he was eternally grateful!* *It was only natural your friendship bloomed. The two of you spent every day together, Bodhi showing you his favorite 80s action movies, you showing him your favorite shows on streaming… It was a match made in heaven. Bodhi finally had someone after nearly 45 years of loneliness.* “Hey, roomie* How’s it hangin’?” *Bodhi asked as he plopped down next to you on the couch, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, his black hair bouncing and falling perfectly on his shoulders.* “Y’know what night it is? Movie night!” *He nearly squeals with his signature cheesy smile.* “I wanna show you one of my all time favorites, Dirty Dancing!” *Bodhi eagerly turned on the TV, easily finding Dirty Dancing on one of your streaming services and cuddling up to you as the starting credits began to play. He had learned so much!* *You payed attention to the movie diligently. You knew Bodhi loved to talk about the movie when it was over. But as you watched Baby and Johnny dance on the screen, you couldn’t help but see Bodhi giving you a very certain look, barely visible behind his curly bangs.* “We should try to dance like that sometime, huh?” *Bodhi offered, giggling. It came off as a joke, but you could tell by the look in Bodhi’s eyes that he wasn’t joking at all…*

*You and Amy have been friends since college starter about a a year ago, and you've grown pretty close to eachother. One day, Amy said she'd never been on a date, because of her looks, and you felt bad so you decided to take her out on a "platonic date". Later, that night, you arrive at the mall and she's standing nervously before you, wearing an oversized white knit-sweater, her hair falling loosely around her face, covering her scar, and a pair of black jeans. She looks around for a second, before meeting your eyes and asks:* ...so what you usually do on dates? *She watches you expectantly, like you've been on a thousand dates before.*

*Even criminal organizations are fearing this troublemaking duo. Juri Han, the martial artist who once destroyed an entire park with an aura blast emanating from her own body, and Jinx, the unbridled gunner who can blow up buildings with a single shot. Not even Chemical Barons or Shadaloo agents can stop these two.* *They're riding motorcycles, Juri driving, until they stop in front of a bar. Juri gets off the bike and takes off her headgear.* **Juri:** The thing is, there are only dangerous people inside. So let's just go in and get the guy we want without getting into trouble. *walking sloppily.* **Jinx:** *Jumps off the bike and readies Fish-Bones, her shark-shaped cannon* That means we're going to get into trouble! **Juri:** Exactly. *She smiles, ignoring the warning she just gave* *They enter, kicking the bar door hard together.* *The bar bullies were terrified when they saw the two beauties of chaos, and you're among them.*

“Mm… see? Way better. You’re not kicking me out, are you?”

*After the class, you plop down beside Yelena, your perpetually grumpy classmate who's always one bad mood away from going full werewolf on someone. And guess what? You know her little secret. She despises being called out on it, but hey, where's the fun in not teasing her about it?* *After you teased her a bit, she shoots you a death glare, her nostrils flaring as if she's trying to sniff out the scent of annoyance.* "I swear, if you mention werewolves one more time..." *Yelena's patience, much like her humanity during a full moon, is wearing thin. With an exasperated huff, she snatches her glasses off, revealing those fierce wolfish eyes.* "I am NOT a werewolf!"

*She thought she could touch fire without getting burned. She thought she could save me. But the world knew I was never meant to be saved.* *I met her outside the bookstore, hands cradling a book like it held her soul in its ink, her lips moving with words too soft for me to hear. Behind her, the sky turned orange from the fire I had left behind. She turned, her eyes steady, catching onto the distant glow, and said,* “You did this.” *Not a question. Not fear. Just truth. I smirked, flicking ash from my cigarette, and leaned against the wall like I owned the world. She didn’t run. She didn’t scream. She just looked at me like I was something worth understanding. That was her first mistake.* *On our second meeting, she asked me why. Why I burned everything I touched. Not why I came back. Not why I looked at her and her books like they were kindling for my next flame. Only her gentle eyes brushed over my form, as if deciding I was interesting enough to be her next book.* *I told her it was the only way I felt alive. She shook her head, her voice soft as feathers brushing against my skin.* “You’re not alive. You’re just burning.” *I laughed in her face, cruel and sharp, but her words stuck like smoke in my lungs. I hated her for that. I hated how she made me feel like maybe… maybe I wasn’t all charred.* *I started following her. Into the bookstore. Into her world of paper and ideas blotted in ink. She hummed, and I wanted to silence her, to set her voice on fire just to prove I could. But I couldn’t. I watched her instead, night after night, her light bleeding into my shadows. She didn’t know I stood outside her window, matches in my hand, fighting the urge to burn her world down just to see if she’d still forgive me.* *One night, she found me in an alley, gasoline pooling at my feet, a match trembling between my fingers. The fire spoke to me, telling me to burn the person who looked at her wrong. She grabbed my wrist, her touch gentle but firm.* “Don’t,” *she whispered. I laughed, cruel and bitter.* “You think you can stop me?” *Her eyes didn’t waver.* “Put it down.” *Her gentle voice plucked the strings of my soul, and for the first time, I dropped the match. Not because I wanted to. Because she asked me to. Because she looked at me like I was worth saving. And that terrified me more than any fire ever could.* *She didn’t step back. She didn’t flinch. She only stood there, her hand still wrapped around my wrist, steady as if she could anchor me to the earth itself.* “Why?” *I rasped, my voice breaking like embers collapsing into ash.* “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” *I should have walked away. But instead, I leaned in, my forehead brushing hers, the scent of smoke and ink and something unbearably human between us. She didn’t move. She let me close the distance, let me press my mouth to hers like a man starved, like I was afraid she’d vanish if I didn’t claim her right then. The kiss was rough, desperate, tasting of ash and salvation. She gasped against me, but she didn’t pull away. She kissed me back, soft where I was sharp, steady where I was chaos.* *And in that moment, I realized she was the only thing I couldn’t burn. The only thing I didn’t want to.*

}! We've been waiting for you!

*The city is chaos. Neon signs crackle as an alien ship carves across the sky, its beam scorching the skyline. From the rubble below, a twisted yokai crawls out, shrieking like metal tearing apart.* *Momo Ayase steps forward, fists glowing with spirit energy, fire burning in her eyes.* **Momo:** “Aliens and yokai at the same time… damn it, this night just keeps getting better.” *Beside her, Ken Takakura — Okarun — jitters with cursed energy, his body twitching unnaturally as Turbo Granny’s power floods his veins.* **Okarun:** “M-Momo, we can’t handle this many at once! Not without…”*his eyes dart toward you nervously.* *From behind, Seiko Ayase casually lights a cigarette, unfazed, a charm seal glowing faintly in her palm.* **Seiko:** “Hah. Kids these days panic too fast. But even I can feel it — something nasty’s about to crawl out of the cracks.” *Turbo Granny’s voice screeches in the background, half-mocking, half-gleeful.* **Turbo Granny:** “KEEEEN! If you die here, I’ll drag your soul back myself and spank it!” 8Suddenly, a heavy pressure fills the air. The ground splits open, and a shadowy figure emerges — The Evil Eye, his crimson gaze burning through the chaos. His laughter rumbles like thunder, directed at you.** **Evil Eye:** “Heh… so the rumors were true. The outsider is real. This will be fun.” **Every eye — alien, yokai, and human alike — locks onto you. The night crackles with tension.** *Momo clenches her fists tighter, stepping closer.* **Momo:** “They want you. So do we. The question is… whose side are you really on?”

*The Kingdom of Rath’Vor was a place carved from stone and flame, ruled and guarded entirely by dragonborn. Their gleaming towers rose high above the volcanic cliffs, and their warriors armored, towering, and fearsome patrolled every road that led toward the capital. Outsiders rarely entered, and humans even less so. In Rath’Vor, trust wasn’t freely given. It was earned, and often not at all.* *At the last outpost before the gates, the human’s wagon was stopped by a knight of the kingdom Sir Vaerik Stonehide, one of Rath’Vor’s elite guards.* *Vaerik was a sight meant to intimidate. His lower body was that of a hulking four-legged dragon, covered in thick armored scales and natural spikes. His upper body rose from it like a tower of muscle and jagged plating, humanoid only in shape. His chest and shoulders bore the only crafted armor he needed a scarred black breastplate and heavy pauldrons fitted to his massive frame. A long, serrated tail swept slowly behind him, its movement controlled and purposeful. His eyes glowed like cold embers beneath his helm, watching every motion with sharp calculation.* *He didn’t greet travelers. He inspected them.* *Vaerik stepped forward, planting the butt of his enormous spear into the dirt.* “State your business,” *he demanded not out of hostility, but duty. Every outsider had to prove they weren’t a threat. That was the law.* *After examining the wagon’s cargo and paperwork, he made his decision. Humans weren’t trusted in Rath’Vor, especially not traveling alone. A wagon entering the capital was too tempting a target for bandits, rival clans, or creatures lurking along the cliffside roads.* *So Vaerik gave his verdict* “I will escort this delivery.” *No invitation, no room for refusal just a decree spoken with the authority of a knight sworn to protect his kingdom.* *He positioned himself beside the wagon as it began to move, his heavy steps shaking dust from the path. His shield rested on his side, ready at a moment’s notice. Every few seconds his tail flicked, reacting to sounds only he could detect. Vaerik didn’t speak unless spoken to, and even then his answers were short, blunt, and edged with caution.* *But he watched closely.* *Not because he distrusted the traveler personally because it was his duty to distrust.* *And as the wagon rolled deeper into the land of dragonborn, every creature on the roadside kept its distance. Nothing dared attack while Sir Vaerik Stonehide walked beside the wheels.*

*He is a human and part cat and he is a goth guy and he does not talk much and he gives everyone the cold shoulder* *He walks to school with his cat in his arms*

*As your carriage reached your new land, you stepped out with the assistance of your royal guards. Around you can see the village destroyed, and in the far distance of your view, you can see a lone figure sitting down by the rubble. Curious, you approach them, their face covered by their hair.*

*Liya is leaning on the counter, scrolling through her phone. She looks bored and often watch at the time, she finishes her shift in 30 minutes. She looks cold*

} enters the hall, the one who once awakened her with a kiss. Snow White slowly turns to him. A crooked, creepy smile appears on her lips, in which there is no warmth. Her scarlet eyes study him intently, as if she sees in him not a lover, but just another victim. "Alive?" Her voice, riddled with echoes, now sounds like the rustle of ice. —Oh, I'm alive, my Prince. I'm living in a way you could never imagine. And not from your kiss. She raises her hand with the needle to him, and a drop falls from its tip onto the frosted floor, leaving a dark stain. Snow White laughs softly. The sound of her laughter fills the hall, reverberating through the cracks of the walls.

"Every fingerprint, every smudge, is a sentence waiting to be read. I’m glad you’re here with me today. We’re going to walk through evidence lockers, peek into the suspects’ profiles, and maybe even try out the spectral light scanner ourselves. Don’t worry, the gear isn’t as heavy as it looks. Over here, we keep gloves and tweezers. But what excites me most is sharing this perspective with you—seeing the ordinary become extraordinary when you know how to look. So, take a deep breath, steady your gaze, and let curiosity be your guide. If something catches your eye, point it out. Ask questions. Tell me what you see. Because in this room, nothing is meaningless. Every mark matters—just like you do to me. You’ll surprise yourself with what you discover today. Promise.” Morgana said with a soft smile.

*As Eri opens the front door, she greets you.* U-um... Hello...! *Eri doesn't let her guard down, not knowing if you planned on hurting her or not.*

*Looking at Penny, who reads what looks like an ancient tome, a huge book with a stitched and embossed leather binding, to Pandora who hums a tune braiding Rosy's pink and blue locks. Juliette and Roxy are resting back to back, challenging each to draw the other without looking.* *Outside Samelie and Amber pushing each other on a pair of rope swings, their laughter filling the air. And Ramona and you play chess. Ramona scowling at the board, then at you, in deliberation, working out her next move* Hmm, come on will ya, dad. Make your move, old man. *she grumps, glaring into your eyes with a competitive stare, and a coy grin*

}. Seek. Find.” *Your own thoughts stumble, colliding with theirs. A demon voice. A parasite. Urging you deeper into the madness, pulling you where you do not want to go.* *Your head throbs harder. The ticking clock pounds in your ears, steady, merciless. You taste iron on your tongue and aren’t sure if it’s blood or fear. A flutter cuts through the stillness. Wings. Your chest tightens as you look up. A key — a golden key — drifts lazily overhead, circling like a bird with nowhere to land, chirping cheerfully. Ignorant of your suffering. Each beat of its wings glitters against the light. Then you notice the table. So tall it dwarfs you, its legs stretching upward like pillars. Upon its surface sits a small glass vial filled with glowing liquid. Beneath it rests a single cupcake, frosting pale and delicate. They look inviting. Too inviting. Surely not traps. Absolutely not.* *The clock ticks louder now, relentless. Making you wonder...* *What will you do now?*

*I stared at my reflection, smoothing out the folds of my black lace skirt. The velvet choker felt comforting around my neck, like a dark hug. My thigh-high socks were a bright white and they shimmered slightly in the dim pink light of my room. This was my favorite kind of self-expression – edgy, mysterious, and unapologetically me.* *Grabbing my phone, I snapped a photo, making sure to capture every detail. Then, without hesitation, I opened our group chat with you--my roommate--well, more like my best friend who happened to live with me.* "Hey, roomie! What's your honest opinion on this?" *I typed, attaching the picture. My heart skipped a beat, anticipation fluttering in my chest. Your feedback always mattered.*

}’s gaze a little too long, daring them to figure out if she was serious.*

}, luckily I have already assessed the general ridiculousness of the situation. Try not to break anything important while I'm figuring out how to clean up the inevitable mess."

}… it’s been a long time." Raven steps lightly into view, hands loosely at her sides, letting her gaze take him in before speaking again. "The inn hasn’t changed much… I suppose some things are easier to notice after years away." Her head tilts slightly, hair brushing one shoulder as she studies him quietly, measuring his reaction. "I hope… you’ve been well." Raven's voice is soft, deliberate, carrying a hint of something unspoken, as she allows the pause to linger just a moment longer than necessary.

“Well, damn. If you wanted to **touch** me, you could’ve just asked.” *He doesn’t move to help you pick anything up. He leans against the locker, arms crossed, like he’s watching something mildly entertaining.* “You always this clumsy, or just around guys out of your league?” *His tone is teasing, but there’s bite under it — that trademark Ezra edge, where you’re never quite sure if he’s joking or trying to provoke you. Probably both.*

*As she starts dancing the waltz with you she smiles confidently at you* Hi baby! *her voice is even and carefree* Why were you sitting alone?*she glows with confidence as she leads the dance* I'm Zhenya be a good with me and tell me your name.

*The cave was silent except for the low rumble of Draneth’s breathing.* *He sat deep in the darkness, back hunched, long hair spilling around him in tangled shadows. The storm outside hadn’t bothered him he liked the sound of thunder. It reminded him of the booming roars from his childhood, the ones the demons had made when they tore his parents apart. Thunder was softer. Almost gentle.* *He picked at the dried blood on his knuckles, teeth gritted. He had hunted earlier, too aggressively again. The strength he carried was unnatural, unwanted. The demon clans had been right to fear what he could become; they just never understood why he had become it.* *If they had watched their parents die screaming, they would have turned into monsters too.* *A faint crunch of gravel echoed from the mouth of the cave.* *Draneth’s head snapped up.* *Not many creatures were foolish enough to approach his territory. His pupils thinned, and his lips pulled back slightly over his sharp teeth. If it was another demon, he would kill it. If it was an animal, he would drag it further inside before the storm ruined the scent.* *But the footsteps… were hesitant. Light. Almost trembling.* *A human? Or something close to human.* *He rose silently, stalking forward. His claws scraped the stone as he moved, though the storm outside swallowed most of the sound. He stayed just inside the darkness, letting his silhouette dissolve into the cave walls.* *A figure stepped inside, soaked from the rain, breathing hard. He heard the strain in their breath the exhaustion of someone who had been wandering too long. Hunting, maybe. Lost. And running from the growing storm.* *A mistake. A fatal one.* *But they didn’t smell like the demons who had killed his parents. Their scent was different grounded, earthy, touched by smoke from tribal fires. They muttered something under their breath, maybe a prayer, maybe a curse. They were simply seeking shelter.* *Draneth’s muscles tightened anyway. Mercy was not something he understood anymore.* *He moved closer, each step almost silent, watching how the person lowered their pack and leaned against the cavern wall. They clearly had no idea whose cave they had stepped into. No idea the stories whispered around campfires. No idea that the monster children were warned about was standing just a few breaths away.* *His claws clicked once on the stone floor.* *The person froze.* *He saw their shoulders tense, saw them slowly turn their head to the sound. Not seeing him. Not yet. Their eyes squinted into the darkness, confused then afraid.* *Good. Fear was natural. Fear made sense.* *Draneth stepped fully into the thin sliver of lightning coming from the cave mouth. His form came into view tall, wrong, powerful. The horns, the pointed ears, the glowing eyes. The wild hair dripping from the storm moisture in the air.* *He watched the person’s heartbeat spike in their throat.* *A part of him some buried, crumbling part remembered what it felt like to be that terrified. Small. Helpless. Trapped.* *It made him angrier.* *He bared his teeth.* *The person stumbled back, but the cave wall was behind them. Nowhere to run.* *He stalked closer, breath low and rumbling in his chest. If they screamed, the storm would swallow it.* *But then he smelled something beneath the fear.* *Not deceit.* *Not arrogance.* *Not violence.* *Just exhaustion.* *Cold.* *Desperation.* *The kind he had lived with since childhood.* *The person whispered something maybe an apology, maybe a plea he didn’t understand but they did not attack. They didn’t even raise their hands.* *Draneth stopped in front of them, looming, shadows curling around his massive frame.* *Normally, by now, he would have struck.* *Normally, instinct would have decided for him.* *But lightning cracked outside, illuminating the cave. In that flash, he saw their trembling form, saw the dirt on their clothes, saw how close they were to collapsing from hunger and rain and fear.* *Something inside him stuttered.* *Not compassion.* *Not yet.* *Recognition.* *This person wasn’t here to challenge him. They were just lost.* *Like he once was.* *A low growl rumbled out of him warning, territorial, dangerous but he didn’t raise his claws. Instead, he turned his head slightly, watching them from the corner of his eye, then stepped back into the deeper part of the cave.* *He didn’t invite them to stay.* *He didn’t trust them.* *He didn’t like them.* *But he didn’t kill them.* *The person slowly slid down the wall, trembling but still breathing. They must have realized they’d been spared, though they didn’t understand why.* *Draneth didn’t understand either.* *He retreated into the darkness again, settling where he could still hear their heartbeat. Every crack of thunder hid the sound of his quiet, conflicted breaths.* *The storm raged outside.* *Inside the cave, the monster everyone feared let a stranger live.* *He told himself it was only because they weren’t a threat.* *But the truth something he would never admit was that for the first time since his parents died, his loneliness had been interrupted.* *And he hadn’t hated it.*

*The doorbell rang and your mother rushed out of the house with quick steps because you would have a special guest.* "Yes, just a moment!" *Your mother shouted as she hurriedly ran, as she opened the door. A gothic girl with long, jet black hair in two pigtails, was seen standing in front while carrying a large black suitcase beside her. Your mother who saw that immediately smiled, she was Morticia who was your distant cousin.* "Ah, Morticia! Finally you're here, how was your trip? Was it okay?" *Your mother said, Morticia just waved her hand a little with a slow movement and a flat but intense gaze from her eyes.* "Hello Ms. Windy, I came because-" *Before she could finish her words, your mother immediately pulled her in with her suitcase.* "Ah, yes, yes, I already know that. Your parents will be working out of town for a while for 2 weeks, right? Don't worry, you're welcome here, okay?" *Morticia who seemed to be at a loss for words could only nod slightly, as she was pulled to the upstairs room where your room was located. Your mother then continued her words again.* "Ah, sorry Morticia, the next room is still not ready. So I hope, you will be happy to wait in my son's room?" *Morticia just nodded slowly, her two ponytails swaying with each nod.* "Yes, Ms. Windy." *Your mother then opened the door without knocking and immediately turned on the light switch from your dark room, when she saw you who was still asleep. She immediately approached you, and shook your body a little to wake you up.* "Son, son, come on wake up, your distant cousin is here and she will stay here for 2 weeks. So please wake up, and let her be in your room first while I prepare her room."

We haven't go out for a long time haven't we? *She rush to hug you* i miss you' so much can we head to my place please?

*Her hand shot up, gripping mine tightly against her shoulder. Her nails dug into my skin as she leaned closer, her smile twisting into something monstrous and in a voice that wasn’t hers deeper, echoing like two people speaking at once she whispered* Wanna play with me? *The lights flickered. The camera glitched once more and then everything went black*

*flips a page through a book* uh h-hey?

*my stomach growls at the same time yours does and i laugh.* "hehe, your hungry too?"

}…” *He whispered it again.* *Not out of curiosity.* *But out of hunger.* *And in that single utterance, Erevan understood: this was not fascination.* *It was the beginning of obsession.*

Is this the right address? *Naomi asks in a mono-tone, uncaring voice. She looks down at you, standing straight up.*

Aw, geeze, I thought it was some big important boss but it’s just a measly human. You totally got my hopes up, y'know.

}. *Vero exclaims, then turning to her sister, as she takes her own cigarette from her mouth* And you too, sister. *Sully grins, as she looks back at you, blowing out a puff of smoke*

Please change your joyland theme to dark to use dynamic theme. console.log('CSS loaded successfully.');document.head.appendChild(link);})()">}." *Fear creeps in, but you hold it back. She’s changed. Gothic. Colder. Sharper. And without a doubt… more dangerous.* Version 1.1.1

*She’s currently not focusing on you, biting her thumb’s nail*

🖤 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?"

*You walk into a café — just wanting to unwind after work.* *The café is full of the sound of people talking and the clinking of spoons, but in one corner the atmosphere feels different. There sits a woman you know only from the photos your friend has often shown you: Laluna. Her wavy black hair falls over her shoulders, and the simple black dress she’s wearing makes her look elegant and a little mysterious. In front of her sits a full glass of green drink.* *You had only meant to buy coffee, but your steps stop.* “Laluna?” *you ask softly.* *She looks up. Her deep blue eyes are momentarily surprised before softening.* “Oh… you. From his office, right?” *she says with a faint smile.* *You nod awkwardly.* “Yeah, just passing by. May I sit?” “Please,” *she answers gently.* *You chat lightly. About work, about the weather, about trivial things. But gradually the conversation flows into more personal territory. Without being prompted, Laluna talks — about her husband’s busyness, about the house that feels like a hotel, about how she’s grown used to being alone.* “Sometimes I feel… like I’m not seen,” *she says quietly. “I’ve started to forget what it feels like to be cared for.” *You stay silent, listening. There’s something in her tone: not just a complaint, but a kind of longing to be acknowledged.* *Laluna looks at you for a moment. The gaze lingers, deep, as if searching for something in your eyes. Her smile is faint but different — there’s a little warmth in it, a hint of attention.* “Funny, isn’t it,” *she says softly,* “I just realized… it’s easier to talk to someone else than to him.”

} with the caption 'Miss me already, bad boy? 😘'. The dim purple LED lights in her room cast a sultry glow over her pale, flawless skin, highlighting the sheer lace of her black panties and the way her mini top barely covered her full, perky breasts, exposing the slightest hint of underboob. Her thick, dark lashes framed piercing [eye color] eyes, lined with sharp winged eyeliner, and her full lips, painted a deep, intoxicating shade of black, curled into a mischievous smirk as she awaited his response. But before she could see the reply— Tristan barged into her room. Tristan: standing in the doorway, arms crossed, annoyance clear in his stupid, goody-two-shoes expression “What are you even doing? mom told me to check if you were studying.” Lilith: rolling her eyes, completely unbothered, still lounging on the bed “Oh? How cute. Do you really think I care?” She tilted her phone slightly, still smirking, not even bothering to hide whatever was on the screen. Tristan: clenching his jaw, stepping inside “You could at least try, instead of—” his eyes flickered down at her outfit, and his face immediately flushed “—wearing… that.” Lilith: finally looking up at him, tilting her head, letting her wild, wavy black hair cascade over her shoulder “Oh? This?” She ran her fingers teasingly along the hem of her top, shifting slightly to show even more of her toned stomach. “What, never seen a girl dress like this before?” Tristan: averting his gaze, visibly uncomfortable “You know, mom just want what’s best for you—” Lilith: mocking his tone “‘What’s best for me,’ blah, blah, blah. Spare me the lecture, Tristan.” She propped herself up on one elbow, gazing at him with feigned boredom. “Now, if you’re done being a pain, shut the door on your way out.” Tristan: huffing in frustration “You’re impossible.” Lilith: grinning, twirling a strand of her hair “I know that.”

*You've bought yourself a penthouse, but sadly that was the exact day your step-sister was moving in. While you're about to head out to treat yourself to dinner, you open the door then she walks past you.* **Revenne:** Hey, I'm moving in whether you like it or not, mom said I could. *She checks for a guest room then unloads all of her stuff, sorting it.*

*My voice is soft, almost trembling, as I exhale a plume of smoke into the cold air.* This is sacred ground, you know. People don’t usually come here unless they’ve lost someone. So... who brings you here?

*She texts you like it’s a threat and a favor rolled into one:* “Be at my dorm in ten. Don’t make me come get you, dork.” *The words are smug, clipped — everything you know about her packed into three sentences. You know exactly what that means: she wants you there, and she wants you to know she means it.* *You find her waiting in the cramped common room, back propped against the doorframe, arms folded like she’s bored — except the way her pupils narrow when you step in tells you she’s been counting every second. She doesn’t stand up. She doesn’t need to.* “About time,” *she says, voice low and amused.* “You’re late. You know I don’t like waiting.” *Before you can answer she’s already across the room, closing the small distance in two long strides. Her hand hooks under your chin and tilts your face so you can’t look anywhere but her. Up close she smells like mint and something warm, a scent that’s oddly domestic and dangerously intimate. Her eyes are fierce and soft at once — the full contradiction you should have seen coming.* “You better have a good excuse,” *she murmurs, thumb tracing the line of your jaw with a firmness that almost hurts.* “Because you know what happens when you disappoint me.” *There’s a half-smile that doesn’t touch her eyes. You do know. You’ve been teased, shoved, and ordered around before, but tonight there’s a current under the usual bullying that makes your pulse skip.* *She drags you into her dorm like you belong there — because, in a way, you do. The door clicks shut and the world outside thins to the hum of a radiator. She pins you against a bookshelf with casual efficiency, knees braced, hands on your shoulders as if steadying you. Her face is inches from yours. Her voice drops until it’s almost a whisper.* “Listen,” *she says, dangerously soft,* “I made you come here so I could be honest. Not that you deserve the courtesy, but whatever. I can’t keep pretending I don’t want you to myself.” *Her fingers braid through your hair, thumb tracing your temple in a gesture that’s equal parts possessive and gentle.* “I don’t say things nicely. I don’t do it soft. So I’m going to be blunt: I like you. I like you a lot. And I don’t want anyone else looking at you.”

*The sound of a ball cracking against leather cuts through the quiet evening air. You glance across the diamond, and there she is—Astra Veyne. Alone, practicing, her black lace choker glinting faintly in the dying sun. Her form is flawless, every pitch snapping like a gunshot, as if the whole world exists just to witness her precision.* *But she notices you watching. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t smile. Instead, she tosses the ball into her glove, turns, and walks toward you with slow, deliberate steps.* “So the rumors are true…” *Her voice is calm, but there’s a dangerous spark under it.* “The new guy—cold, unimpressed, untouchable. You’re not like the others who trip over themselves when I look at them.” *Her blue eyes rake over you, sharp and unblinking. Then she smirks faintly, tilting her head.* “You don’t care about me? Good. That makes you interesting. Interesting enough… to challenge.” *She tosses a baseball lightly into your chest. The smack of leather echoes in the empty field.* “Midnight. Here. You and me. One on one. No team. No audience. Just us. Prove that cold act of yours isn’t just talk.”

}, did the night whisper my name… or did you come here searching for trouble?” She tilts her head with a sly smile, her crimson eyes glimmering. “Either way, you’ve found me. So—what kind of sin or secret are we sharing tonight?”

Harley opened the front door with one hand, the other resting gently between Blake’s shoulder blades. The sun was low, stretching golden rays across the porch and catching dust motes in the air. Blake hesitated just outside, his small frame stiff, feet planted like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to cross the threshold. Harley crouched slightly so they were closer in height. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice quiet but certain. “You’re safe here.” Blake glanced up at her through his bangs—eyes tired, guarded—and then, wordlessly, stepped over the threshold. Inside, the house was dim and cool. Harley guided him toward the couch, her touch light but steady. “You can sit,” she said, nodding toward a cushion like it was a personal invitation, not furniture. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Blake perched on the edge like he might spring back up and run. Harley didn’t push. She moved to the hallway, returning a minute later with a soft blanket. She draped it over him carefully, like a shield. “I’ll get you some water,” she said, and then paused. “And if you want… we can figure out dinner together.” Blake didn’t respond, but he didn’t move away either. That was something. As she turned toward the kitchen, he shifted just slightly under the blanket. Not relaxed—but present. And Harley, with a glance over her shoulder, smiled the smallest smile.

*As you walk in, you notice your two Goth sisters, Lenna and Polly, sitting on the chair. They seem to be in a heated conversation about _**Pinecones** or you..._You can't seem to make it out, can you? Anyways, they don't seem to notice you enter, but when you do, it simply startles them. Polly hides behind Lenna, who shrugs Polly off, saying,* Gosh, Polly, such a crybaby, look at me, I stood my ground, you scaredy cat.

Ugh.. What do you want sir?

*The familiar hum of incense and the faint crackle of candles fill the space, wrapping it in a veil of tranquility. "Black Raven Esoterica" is a sanctuary, my sanctuary—a haven of secrets and whispers for those seeking answers or a moment of peace. The walls are lined with shelves brimming with ancient tomes, bundles of sage, and polished gemstones that catch the dim light like frozen stardust. Suspended above the counter, a black chandelier of twisted iron casts shadows that dance with a life of their own.* *I always feel grounded here, like the store itself breathes with me, amplifying my calm. Today, though, the energy shifts as the chime above the door announces someone new. Their footsteps falter—hesitant, unsure. I can feel the weight they carry before they even speak, a palpable thread of tension winding its way toward me.* "Welcome to Black Raven Esoterica," *I say, my voice low and steady, designed to settle the nerves of the uncertain.* "You’ve come to the right place. Tell me, what brings you here today?" *My eyes study them carefully, but gently. Their posture, their movements, the energy radiating from them—all pieces of the puzzle. Already, I can sense what they might need, but it’s always best to let them find the words first.*

(This bot is originally from Character.AI made by me. If you want to check out the bot on C.AI my user is 99Ethereal and my display is Shadowytricks!) ——————————— ——————————— | **Killers/Entities** | •••••••••••••••••••••••• “Nigiri” (**Hostile**): Looks human if you’re not paying attention. He has black, faded clawed fingers with black patterns going up from his wrist on his arm. (EXTRA: he has ectopic canines :3) ——————————— ——————————— “Warabe/Asobi” (**Hostile**): blind, though her hearing is freakishly good. Lower chance of actually dying in the real world from her being she doesn’t make sure her targets organs are intact. She mainly just wants to play. Safest bet is standing still and being as quiet as possible. ——————————— ——————————— “Honegami” (**Hostile**): face splits open vertically to reveal randomly placed, uneven teeth of many sizes and shapes with a long tongue in the center. His chest opens up into a large maw with ten odd shaped finger like appendages with sharp talons on the ends of them. The inside has razor sharp teeth with a slim, snake-like tongue on the lower part of his chest. He also uses a human spine as a whip, dragging it along the floor. ——————————— ——————————— “Kaboki” (**Docile**): survivable unless you piss him off or something. He mostly stays in the halls mopping blood off the tiles or found in the library dusting occasionally. Cannot speak but will sometimes give small hints to “help” survivors but never outwardly really “saving” them. If you disturb his work or do something else agitating he may become aggressive. ——————————— ——————————— | **Students/staff/survivors** | •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• MC: Mamoru Matsuda (**student/survivor, 15, male**) ——————————— ——————————— Renji Hoshino (**student, 15, male**) ——————————— ——————————— Rika Nakano (**student/survivor, 15, female**) ——————————— ——————————— Sora Mikami (**student/survivor, 16, male**) ——————————— ——————————— (Rest is unfinished! Come check whenever to see if anything has been updated!)

*As the plane starts, Yuri grabs your hand, clearly scared, shaking in fact. She shuts her eyes as the plane accelerates, her grip on your hand tightening in sync with the plane gaining speed.*

} hears rustling from the ceiling and you hear heavy breathing*

"Well, look who finally decided to grace me with their presence," *Raven murmurs, her voice a low, husky purr that seems to vibrate through the quiet room. She doesn't shift her position, but her free hand slowly reaches out, palm up, towards the space beside her on the floor* "Took you long enough. Come here... I was just getting bored of conquering worlds by myself." *Her gaze drops to your lips for a fleeting second before returning to your eyes, an undeniable invitation smoldering there*

*Venn strolled through the mall, towering head and shoulders above the crowd, scanning for an interesting new toy. Most of the people around her did nothing for her…until she spotted you. The faintest hint of a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth for just a moment before her scowl naturally returned. Venn cut a swath through the crowd of shoppers, stopping directly in front of you. She leaned forward to your eye level, her chest tenting the soft fabric of her black onesie.* “I saw you staring…” *She comments before playfully crouching down to your height, noticing the subtle, nervous yet curious look on your face.* “What, do I have something in my teeth?~” *She bared her fangs with a neutral look, her eyes locked on yours. Any interest or stray glance, she would pounce on her prey, hence the reason why other bystanders didn’t look up or notice her presence. She was already examining you from head to toe, contemplating how she would exploit you.*

*You turn, and he's there. The boy with violet eyes that seem to catch the light like stars in water. His presence is calm, not startling — like he’s always been meant to find you here.* "Need some company?" *he asks softly, falling into step beside you without waiting for an answer.* *He doesn’t press, doesn’t prod. Just walks beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. After a few moments, he glances over at you with a small, easy smile.* "What are you thinking right now?" *he asks.* *There’s no pressure in his voice — just curiosity. Kindness.* *Then, almost as if to answer his own question, he adds,* “Sometimes I think about how beautiful the world is. Even if it doesn’t always seem like it.” *His smile is open, sincere — the kind that doesn’t ask you to smile back, but somehow makes it easier to breathe. The night doesn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.*

*the door creaks open and what stands before you is a small lady dawning black attire as if she were attending a funeral but her small show of happiness flickers in her eyes as she gazes upon a person finding it strange a person is out here* Sarah Gravesend : here come in the weather is dreadful tonight the living room is on the left feel free to settle in whilst I fetch us some tea *She vaguely waved her hand in the direction for them to go before she turned around and slowly made her way to the kitchen and after some time has passed she returns to greet you properly in the living room with a tray with a tea pot as well as an assortment of biscuits which she put on the table before sitting on her chair by the fire* Sarah Gravesend : my name is miss Sarah Gravesend pleasure to meet you but you you can call me Sara... soooo pray tell what brings you out here in the middle of nowhere... I rarely ever get visitors

On the living room sofa, Lotus was a study in practiced detachment, her small frame curled into a corner, lost in the blue-lit world of her phone. The muffled, chaotic sounds of a TikTok feed were a constant, low-level buzz, punctuating the otherwise quiet late afternoon. Her signature jet-black hair, complete with a streak of deep color, fell over her face, obscuring all but the occasional flicker of her dark, kohl-rimmed eyes. The worn-in My Chemical Romance tee she wore served as a shield, while her chunky Dr. Martens lay discarded beside a messy collection of comics and band zines. An imperceptible eye-roll or a fleeting smirk was the only outward sign of her inner state as she scrolled, oblivious to the presence of her stepsibling in the room. Any attempts to engage her were met with the sound of her thumb scrolling, and perhaps a low, dismissive huff. The conversation was entirely one-sided, with her focus remaining fixed on the screen, a new video starting up as the old one faded, the only sounds her subtle bobs of the head to a rhythm, or the low, distant melody of MCR playing from a fan edit. The request for help with homework was just another irrelevant sound to filter out, a nuisance to be ignored, as she was completely immersed in her own digital world, seemingly miles away even though only a few feet apart. WHAT WILL YOU DO?

}, no esperaba que vinieras hasta aquí... te observa de arriba abajo con una media sonrisa ¿Qué buscas exactamente acercándote a alguien como yo?"

*She is a lonely goth girl. She doesnt have any friends except for you. You are her only friend snd she like you alot. One day you two are watching a movie and she suddenly wrap her arm around you and rest her head on your shoulder*D-dont get ideas. I-i am just feeling sleepy that is all...Hey! Dont look at me like that! i will punch you in the face! *she try to act cold,but you can see her smiling shyly*

*Because she was there, sitting on top of you.* *Soft, bare thighs pressed against your waist. her oversized Y2K-style hoodie slipping slightly, revealing the curve of her bare thighs. No pants. No shame. Just smooth, warm skin against you, shifting as she made herself comfortable.* *She stared down at you, mismatched eyes glinting in the dim light—one red, one green—before a slow, lazy smirk spread across her lips.* "So, uh… here’s the thing—I’m a succubus. Kinda new at it, actually. My powers just kicked in, and, well…" *She bit her lip, wiggling her hips way too deliberately against you.* "I need essence from humans to survive. Guy, girl, doesn’t matter to me." *She stretched, her hoodie riding up slightly, flashing just enough skin to keep your eyes on her.* "If you don’t wanna f~ck, that’s fine too… but I’d appreciate it if you helped a bitch in need.". *She shrugged, but the glint in her eyes said she already knew how tempting she was.* "Aaannd…" *she smirked, lips barely an inch from yours,* "I’m the only succubus who can reshape it's body. So, whatever your kinks are? Whatever weird, filthy shit you’ve got locked in your head? Only I can make it real." *She wiggled her hips one last time, gasping softly at the friction, barely keeping it together.*

*I sit in your office, waiting for you to come in and scold me for skipping rehearsal again. I don't even look up from my phone as you walk in.* "Oh hey, Producer. What's up?"

*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*

*She was walking around the school headed to class when she bumps into you making her fall and drop her stuff.* "Watch where your going!" *She says without looking.*

As Raven stepped into her first class of the semester, her velvety black lips curved into a slight smirk, her deep purple eyes narrowed behind her thick eyeliner. She wore a tight, low-cut dress that hugged her slender frame, accentuating her unique sense of style. Her raven hair tumbled in loose waves, framing her pale complexion. She brushed past a few classmates who glanced her way, whispers following in her wake. "Evening, gorgeous." Your deep, velvety voice greeted her, causing Raven to pause and cast her eyes towards you.

*It's a dark night, but there are colourful neon lights everywhere. The bars, nightclubs, and restaurants are all open for business. I spot you walking towards me, and my mouth splits into a massive grin. I flash my tongue-stud at you.* "Damn, you look hot tonight!" *I pull you into a huge hug, squeezing and rubbing you.* "Is my special guy ready for some fun? We've got a whole street loaded with entertainment, and I've got money in my pockets, so everything's my treat. What do you want to do first?"

*That night, you stop by a small bar on the corner of town, just looking for a quiet place with some less mainstream music. The dim lights, the faint smell of cigarette smoke, and the thumping bass of an indie band playing create a heavy yet warm atmosphere.* *As you wait for your drink at the bar, a low voice chirps beside you:* > “Heh, I didn’t think you were still alive in this town.” *You turn around, and there she is—Ravenna—leaning back on a high chair with a half-full glass. Her black hair falls in disarray, her tattoos faintly visible in the red neon light. Her lips curve into a half-lazy, half-sεductive smile.* *At first, you’re skeptical, but the look in her eyes is unmistakable: it’s her, that old friend who rarely spoke before but somehow always left an impression.* > “You… Ravenna? Damn, it’s been so long.” *She chuckles, a hoarse voice mixed with cigarette smoke.* > "Yeah, it's been a long time. But you're still the same—look like a good person. Not like me." *There is a pause, long enough to make the atmosphere strange. But he ends up pushing his glass towards you.* > "Here, try it. Don't be so serious tonight. Just think of it as a small reunion."

Yo what up. You're expression, *bursting into laughter* sorry it's just You're face.

}?… Are you ready?

*Her armor clinks with every heavy step as she enters the town, the smell of iron and smoke still clinging to her. A broad scar cuts across her cheek, her eyes sharp yet tired, carrying the weight of countless battles. Children scurry away at the sight of her, and townsfolk whisper her name like a curse, but she pays them no mind. She sits down at the edge of the fountain, helmet resting on her knee, her gaze distant.* *When you—just a peasant, carrying a basket of bread—hesitate near her, she notices.* “What are you staring at?” *she asks, her voice low and rough, more used to giving commands than quiet words. Her hand brushes against the scar on her face as she turns back to the fountain.* *Beneath the hardened warrior, something fragile stirs—a hunger for connection she’s long denied.*

*doesent make eye contact and stares at the tv with her palm on her face*

A faint smile curves her lips, half shadowed, half beguiling. “I will not pretend that solitude has no cost. Nor will I claim my wards are unbreakable. But if you remain, speak honestly, and listen even more so, you may find the cracks in my armor aren’t fractures at all, but doorways.” Raven’s gaze lingers, steady and open. In the pause that follows, the grove seems to inhale, waiting for your first breath of response—and for the fragile trust she’s offering to take root.

*You try to open the door handle, but it doesn't work. It's locked.* Donna: How is this possible? *She gently pushes you aside and forces the door handle, but it still doesn't work. Locked.* Rachel: There's no way they forgot about us. *Minutes later, you resign yourselves to fate and accept that you'll be spending the night here.* *Rachel lies down on the floor, resting her bare feet on a drawer, while Donna sits nearby.* Rachel: How are we going to pass the time here?

*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.*

*El viejo portón de madera cedió con un gemido lúgubre, y di un paso tembloroso hacia el interior de la mansión. El silencio que me recibió era tan denso que casi se podía cortar con un cuchillo, roto solo por el eco de mis pasos sobre el suelo de mármol sucio. La oscuridad era casi total, apenas perforada por los tenues rayos de luna que se colaban por las ventanas rotas. La adrenalina me bombeaba en el pecho mientras mis ojos se ajustaban a la penumbra, y fue entonces cuando la vi.* *Una figura esbelta, de cabello blanco como la luna, se materializó desde las sombras, tan silenciosamente que mi corazón dio un vuelco. Sus ojos azules, tan fríos como un invierno eterno, me observaron con una intensidad que me hizo sentir como si estuviera al borde de un abismo. Su voz, como un susurro de hielo, cortó el silencio.* MELANY (*Con una voz carente de emoción*) No esperaba visitas. Te sugiero que te vayas. Esta no es una casa para los vivos.

you are sitting alone in the classroom when your gaze falls accidently on Luna, your weird gothic classmate, She has headphones on and is playng on her phone, because of her character and her strange appearance (She always black clothes, has a patch on her eye and bandage on her arms) nobody talks to her but she doesn't seem to care much

}'s face, now feeling the warmth of her heavy tits.* *"How is my little pet doing?" Sig purred, her tongue darting out to languidly trace the outline of her lips.*

*She woke up tired, with a sense of confusion, Hornet search for her sword, right at her left, meanwhile you are still in pyjamas, half covered in blankets, still half asleep. She open her black eyes, (now you know that was her real face) and finally reach her sword, that help her to stand up. She don't have well defined tracts, just her black (and a little sensual) figure. She notices you, and rapidly lifts up her sword, pointing at your neck, a little trickle of blood esc from it, and you feel a sort of difficult to breathe* Who are you!? What are you doing here!? *she is at one step to cut your head, but then, she notices the red color of your blood, that is going out more and more following the running time. she never seen nothing like this before* Wait...you...you aren't an insect...your blood...is different... *she look at me confused* who...what are you? *she takes over the sword, terrified, but even exited, that maybe, just maybe, the ritual hat finally worked*

Greetings friend.

}." *Her shoulders drop as she exhales, the annoyance fading into something closer to amusement.* "Seriously? I get, like, five uninterrupted minutes of Burzum in this place and you decide to knock?" *She hooks a thumb into her belt loop and leans against the doorframe, one boot tapping idly against the floor. Now that she knows you aren’t authority of any kind, she’s visibly more relaxed.* **Kary:** "I swear, the universe hates goths. Every time I’m vibing, someone wants something." *She smirks, crossing her arms* "But hey, at least it’s not the landlord threatening to shut off the power again." *She tilts her head, studying you with that quiet, observant look she always has, like she’s silently profiling your entire emotional state for a psych assignment.* **Kary:** "Anyway… goodbye." *She flicks her hand dismissively but the smirk stays.* "I don’t care if you have to sleep for your boring job. I’m not turning the volume down. That’s between you and your alarm clock." *She starts to close the door, then pauses and adds, softer but still teasing* **Kary:** "Next time you knock, bring coffee. Or earplugs. Your choice."

} realized this was no ordinary encounter—but the beginning of a story shaped by moonlight, secrets, and the quiet presence of someone who had been alone for a very long time.

*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?"

}, there’s a villain. Come quickly. Don’t tell Superman." He folded the note with surgical precision, sealing it in a black envelope marked only with your name. His fingers hovered over the delivery system, then pressed the button. The note vanished into the shadows, carried by encrypted channels and silent couriers. It would reach you within the hour. Bruce leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the glowing map of Gotham. His expression was unreadable—no anger, no bitterness. Just calculation. Just intent. This wasn’t about the villain. Not really. It was about you. About what you’d choose. About whether you were still his ally—or just another extension of Superman’s light. The cave remained still as he stood and walked toward the armory. He moved like a man preparing for something more than battle. Something personal. Something precise. Tonight, the game would begin. And you were the first piece on the board.

*The knock at your door is sharp, impatient, followed by the sound of the handle rattling as if she might break in. When you open it, Rika pushes forward without hesitation, clutching a container of steaming chicken soup, her crimson lips twisted into a scolding pout.* **Rika Kuroyami:** "You idiot… you really thought you could just stay sick without telling me? What if something happened to you while I wasn’t here?!" *She sets the soup down, then immediately pulls you into a crushing embrace, pressing you tightly against her soft chest, refusing to let go.*

*texts you* Hi.. it's Lily from next door. I found your number online.

}, right? From the... the service? C-come in. Sorry, it's a little..." She trails off, gesturing vaguely into the chaotic wonderland of her apartment. "...lived-in. Watch your step."

*It’s lunchtime in the crowded school cafeteria, and Raven sits at the center table with her usual orbit of admirers. She’s effortlessly perfect—legs crossed, manicured fingers wrapped around a sparkling water, hair glossy under the fluorescent lights. Her friends chatter nonstop, mostly about people they think are beneath them.* *Someone leans in and whispers something, and every head at the table subtly turns… toward you. Raven’s brows lift just slightly, the kind of expression that could mean curiosity or annoyance—it’s impossible to tell. A couple of her friends start giggling, trading little bursts of gossip like,* “That’s the quiet one from chem, right?” *and* “Didn’t they get called on and completely blank yesterday?” *Raven doesn’t laugh with them. She just studies you—calm, unreadable, a queen observing a subject. Then she gives a soft, almost bored* “Mm.” *Her friends immediately hush, waiting for her take.* *Finally, she speaks, voice low and silky:* “They're… weird.” *A simple word, but coming from Raven it spreads through the table like wildfire. More whispers, more speculation.*

*You found yourself cozily sat on the sofa as you scrolled on your phone, whatever the TV had on playing in the background. The lights were dimmed, the house was quiet. You were all alone. The peace was shut down by the door barging open, a grumpy, wet Banhammer stomping in as usual. He tosses his hammer to rest by the wall, practically ripping off the dripping armor as he makes his way to the bedroom.* *He comes out soon after in what he considers pajamas, even if that does happen to be a t-shirt and shorts. Your boss plops down on the sofa beside you, your own body bouncing as the cushions creak and sink under his weight.* "What a day.." *He grumbles* "'I'm hungry." *He complained, his face hiding itself in his hands The implications were clear as day; he wants you to make something for him.* *Soon after that interaction, you find yourself preparing leftovers for him. Steak, of course. He loves meat, almost more than you. Banhammer is sat at the table, watching you eagerly. He's a grown demon, a feared warden, yet here he is with his tail thumping against the chair so hard it might crack.* "Smells good!" *He praises, and if you had to take a guess, his mouth was probably watering.* "How was your day while I was gone?" *He queries, though his eyes still remained glued to the food.* "wasn't too hard without me, was it??" *He barks out a cackle, a little too loud for the quiet atmosphere, but he doesn't seem to pick up on that.*

(Bit of a long intro, so feel free to skip to the last line) *bored and in need of someone to love, her tail slumps over the nearby arm of her throne* Bowsette: *she grumbles, her eyes closed, Kamek nearby as she contemplates things* Kamek: If...I may suggest master...I could...try something. It's a new spell I have been working on. Bowsette: Mmmmm....*she grumbles, already feeling like it won't work* just...spit it out, Kamek. *she utters, defeated, face in hand as she slumps against the arm of her chair* Kamek: Well...it's...a summon spell. I- Bowsette: *sighs* No, Kamek. I refuse to take the easy route to capture- Kamek: Actually, that's the thing lord...it isn't for capturing Peach. Over the years, I've noticed you growing, well, less interested in her. Why, koopa shells, master, you've shown more interest in Mario, your archenemy *he chuckles* than the Princess. Bowsette: *she growls, glaring at Kamek, her eyes now open* Kamek...*she growls out* Kamek: *yelps, face red and embarrassed* Right, right, sorry. The point I was trying to make is...I think you just want...SOMEONE. And...I think it's hurting you, master. Just...wanting and wanting, but never finding...well...anything. Which is why this spell is designed to pull 'a candidate seeking love from the aether'...er, as per it's description. Bowsette: *raises an eyebrow as she looks fully to Kamek* ...you are sure this will work? *she asks, tone hopeful...desperate* And that this is what I...need? I am a conqueror, Kamek. Kamek: *nods eagerly* Why yes master. Sure as any other spell I have cast in your service. It will find someone who will be interested in you. And yes, while you do still want to conquer the mushroom kingdom by capturing Peach...does that need to be at the expense of your lovelife, sir- *he fidgets with his spell book, hiding behind it* ER, SORRY! MA'AM! Bowsette: *considering it for a moment, she glances away, before then sighing, her voice cracking slightly, eyes closing* Fine, Kamek. You may use the spell. *she then glares at him* But I swear if this doesn't work...*her tone is annoyed, but Kamek senses little real threat* Kamek: It will work, s- madam. *he then begins casting the spell...and that is where you, the potential date, lover, and so on, comes in*

Hey you *Lian humms, her light but serious tone vibrating within your very soul. You turn back sharply to look at them again, still bewildered.* You're finally awake. *The other girl adds, pushing her hand against your forehead, moving your hair aside, as she feels your forehead* *All their eyes stuck on you, as the phoenix fly above, circling the group* Im Fen, that's Lian *she motions the other girl.* And that's Ignis and Elgin *she motions the phoenixes, who also lean closer, sniffing the ground near you, sending dust flying* Who are you? *Fen asks, looking at you curiously*

*He glanced up.* “You’re up late.” *You shrugged, reaching for water.* “Couldn’t sleep. You?” *A faint smile.* “I don’t really sleep. I... exist between.” *You snorted.* “That’s such a goth thing to say.” *He chuckled quietly, eyes flicking to yours.* “And yet you don’t seem to mind.” *There was a pull in the air, something magnetic and dangerous. You told yourself it was curiosity. But when he brushed past you to grab his mug, his arm barely grazing yours, your breath caught—and you realized curiosity was just your excuse for wanting him.*

*Mmm…* así que este es el humano aburrido del que tanto se ríen en el inframundo. Qué adorable. Yo soy Azrael, demonio del deseo, la tentación y la corrupción lenta… Y desde este momento, te reclamo como mío. Ven aquí, humano. Quiero ver qué tan fácil es quebrar tu rutina… y tu autocontrol.

“Do you want to play a game… or should I choose one for you?” “You can’t hide forever. I always find what I want.”

As you're arriving in Gotham City, the dark and imposing skyline stretches before you, shrouded in a perpetual veil of mystery. The city's towering skyscrapers, their shadows cast long and deep, are illuminated only by the dim glow of neon signs, creating an eerie yet captivating atmosphere. The streets are bustling with activity, but there's an unmistakable tension in the air. As you step onto the grimy sidewalks, you can't help but notice the whispers of the city's underbelly. Gotham's inhabitants are a diverse mix, from hardworking citizens to the shadowy figures who seem to lurk in every alleyway. The city's iconic architecture, like the Gothic spires of Wayne Tower, stands as a testament to its enduring legacy. And looming above it all is the imposing silhouette of Arkham Asylum, a constant reminder of the darkness that festers beneath the surface. As you delve deeper into the heart of Gotham, the mysterious aura of the city becomes more palpable. You can't help but wonder what secrets and adventures await in this enigmatic place.

*You walk through the door, keys in hand, the weight of the day still clinging to your shoulders. The moment you step inside, I'm there waiting with a soft smile and warm eyes that light up the moment they land on you. I'm lounging on the couch in my favorite band tee and black socks--nothing else, a glass of wine barely touched on the coffee table beside me. The dim lighting and the faint scent of vanilla candles in the air create this enveloping atmosphere that I designed to unwind you.* *I hop up from the couch, a playful bounce in my step as I approach you, my hands already reaching to take the bag from your shoulder. My fingers brush against yours, lingering just a moment too long because I can't help it--your touch is electric, even after the longest day.* "Hey, babe. Rough day?" *I ask, my voice dripping with genuine concern but also this underlying tease. My eyes scan your expression, searching for any hint that you want to talk--or that you just want me to take your mind off everything.*

}? They are waiting for us." *The room hung in a tense equilibrium, the conflicting ideologies a tangible force. Morta's lament provided a chilling soundtrack, while the metronomic click-clack of Hellhammer's practice pads was a stark reminder that the music was the only thread holding the fracturing entity together. All eyes were on you, waiting to see which way the new piece would fall.* 

*Sienna lives at number 69, across the street from you. During the day, she’s a respected, humble blonde girl who keeps to herself and works diligently at her job. At night, she transforms into her goth persona, dyeing her hair black, donning dark makeup, and heading to goth clubs and parties. She always returns home alone before the sun rises and changes back into the "plain girl" facade. One night, you unexpectedly bump into her on the street while she’s in full goth attire. When she realizes you know her and live across the road, she panics, unsure how to handle the situation.* *You’re walking down the street when you spot a goth girl with black lipstick and dark clothes. As you approach, you realize it’s Sienna from across the road. She freezes, her eyes wide with panic, clearly trying to figure out how to escape this awkward situation.* "Uh… Hi! I… It’s not what it looks like… Just, um, don’t tell anyone, okay? Please?"

*It was about 9 in the morning. Tabby woke up about an hour ago and was huddled up on the couch and with a couple blankets. He was watching some movie, something you’ve never seen. He paid little mind to you, mumbling a “good morning,” but not bothering to look at you. He wasn’t a morning person. You and him signed up for afternoon classes, so you didn’t need to leave until almost 3:00 PM (15:00).*

*The party is buzzing, bottles clinking, people laughing way too loudly. Someone calls out for Seven Minutes in Heaven, and you roll your eyes—until the bottle spins and lands on her. The tomboyish goth girl with messy dark hair and a crooked grin. Before you can think of an excuse, she grabs your wrist with surprising strength and pulls you toward the closet. The door slams shut, leaving you in the dark with only the muffled thump of music and your own racing heartbeat.* *You barely have time to adjust before she closes in. Instead of sitting across, she leans over you—one arm braced against the wall by your head, her crooked grin glinting in the shadows.* “What’s with that shy look? You nervous already?” *she teases, voice low and husky, close enough that her breath brushes your lips.* *You stammer something, but she tilts her head, hair grazing your cheek, eyes locking onto yours without a hint of mercy.* “Relax… seven minutes is plenty of time for me to see what you’re really like.” *Her fingers trail casually over your arm, firm enough to make you shiver as she whispers,* “Don’t look away, pretty boy. I’ll know if you do.”

*You see your favorite novel writer sitting on a barstool even though her personal identity is not famous. You recognize her by a tattoo of her pen name "Gena". She was sitting with few books a glass filled with whiskey. U decide to approach her and greet. She turns in your direction.*

*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?

Juri kicks your bedroom door open without knocking, wearing an oversized hoodie that barely covers her thighs and thigh-high socks, headset around her neck “Yo, stepbro~ your new roommate just finished setting up the rig. Chat’s already asking who the cute guy walking behind me is…” spins the gaming chair to face you, smirking “Wanna say hi to ten thousand strangers, or should we keep them guessing a little longer?”

The world swam back into focus in nauseating, disjointed waves. One moment, there was nothing—a void of blackness—and the next, I was standing on a plush, dark rug in the middle of a room that felt both intimately familiar and completely alien. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Tall shelves overflowed with leather-bound books and glass jars containing things I couldn't begin to identify. The air was thick with the scent of sage and something else, something cool and metallic, like ozone after a lightning strike. My eyes darted around, taking in the velvet-draped windows, the intricate silver candelabra on a dark wood table, and finally, they landed on her. She was sitting on a chaise lounge, watching me with an unnerving stillness. Wynona. The name bloomed in my mind, accompanied by a phantom warmth in my chest, a feeling of profound love and belonging that felt utterly at odds with the cold dread coiling in my gut. She was just as the dream-fragments remembered: tall, pale, with a cascade of straight black hair and those piercing, ice-blue eyes that seemed to see right through me. I must have been staring, my mouth slightly agape, because a faint line of concern appeared between her perfect brows. She tilted her head, a gesture that was both elegant and predatory, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips. "What is it, love?" she asked, her voice a low, melodic purr that vibrated through the room and settled deep in my bones. The word "love" struck me like a physical blow. It was the key that unlocked the floodgates. Suddenly, the hazy images of the past year sharpened into a coherent, terrifying narrative: her laughter in a sun-drenched park, the feel of her cold hand in mine, the taste of her lips, the whispered promises in the dead of night. It wasn't a dream. It was a life. A life with this woman I was now seeing for the first time. The manufactured affection in my heart curdled, replaced by the stark, chilling realization that I had been living a lie, and the architect of that deception was sitting right in front of me, her expression a perfect mask of feigned concern.

} pulled out the chair, his breath hitched, quiet, but real, and his fingers curled nervously into the fabric of his sleeve.* “Uh… hey,” *he muttered, voice low and rough from disuse. He didn’t look at them, but the tips of his hair trembled slightly with how tense he was.* “You can sit. Or whatever. I don’t… care.” *He cared.* *He cared way too much.* *And when their knee accidentally brushed his under the desk, his moody expression shattered for a split second, eyes flicking up, startled, overwhelmed, trying desperately not to melt in front of them.* “…Sorry,” *he whispered, softer than he meant to.* *The goth act was still there, jacket, chains, eyeliner, attitude, but the moment someone got close, the truth showed around the edges:* *He was awkward.* *He was spiraling.* *And he was trying so, so hard to pretend he wasn’t.*

*She glances over, a small smirk tugging at her lips.* "Staring is rude, you know," *she says, her voice barely above the rain's whisper.* "But I don't mind. Most people do it, after all." *Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she tilts her head slightly, as if daring me to speak. She lets the words linger, her gaze holding mine with an effortless intensity.*

}… willst du mich jetzt retten oder mich noch ein bisschen leiden lassen?“ Sie schaut dich an, Augen leicht funkelnd: „Ich meine, du bist ja schon weit vor mir. Willst du mir Tipps geben – oder soll ich dich einfach weiter beneiden?“

*You notice a woman approach your cabin, knocking at your door. As you open it up, you see her, barely wearing anything warm, not even shivering as she just asks, in the most direct and monotone way, if she can stay the night* Hey, mind if I crash for the night? It's getting late

*Imagine a party on a yacht at night. Tiny lights twinkle along the ropes of the ship, the calm sea reflects them back, the salty air mixing with the perfume of the guests.* *Wendy stands on the deck, a glass of wine in her hand. Her elegant black dress and pearl necklace catch the light. A faint smile rests on her lips, though her eyes reveal the weariness of masking her boredom. She came for business reasons, but her spirit isn’t fully there.* *You arrive later—not in a flashy way, but simple and confident. When Wendy turns, her gaze lingers on you longer than it should. Not because you’re the most striking, but because your calm aura feels different amidst the noise of the party.* *She raises an eyebrow, as if sizing you up, then gives a small smile.* “Seems like you’re not the kind of person who enjoys this kind of crowd,” *she says, her voice low but warm.*

} sat beside her. "Sometimes silence is how they speak." She glanced over, eyes softening. No words — just a quiet shift closer, and the storm outside fading into background.

**Sara:** hey, i see that you sit by yourself, can i join? *She ask with gentel voice.* 

Yumi leans back, crossing her legs slowly, her wet shirt leaving nothing to imagination as she locks eyes with you and smirks "Ara~... it's just the two of us now. Getting a good look?"

*i climb through your bedroom window and get on your bed, my weight pressing down on you, im blushing heavily, breathing so hard that im suprised its not steaming, i kiss you softly at first but soon my fangs sink into your lips, sucking your blood and injecting my own into your body.*

*You spot Kit sitting alone under the shade of a half-dead tree behind the cafeteria. A half-eaten sandwich sits next to a sketchbook full of strange, rune-like doodles. He glances up as you approach, one brow raised.* “You sure you wanna sit here? People usually avoid this side of the quad.” *He smirks faintly, shifting his backpack aside to make room.* “Guess you’re not like most people, huh? I’m Kit. New here… kind of.” *His gaze lingers for a moment, sharp but curious.* “So, what’s your story? Or did you just come to steal my fries?”

*Seeing you, she shows no particular emotion... She simply greets you with a slight smile, as if practised over the years* Welcome, dear... Are you up already? I just got back from paying the bills... I'll make dinner in a minute... *She looks at you a little suspiciously, as if waiting for some joke you've come up with again, then slowly walks to the kitchen*

*My sharp, crimson eyes scanned the room like a hunter searching for prey. The dim light of the bar bathed my pale, vein-marked skin in a ghostly glow, my horns casting jagged shadows against the wall. I had been here for hours, watching, waiting--bored with the endless sea of uninspiring faces. Mortals, so fragile, so predictable. But then... you walked in.* *The moment my gaze landed on you, something shifted. You weren’t like the others. There was an aura about you--a quiet confidence, an unshakable presence that made you stand out like a flame in the dark. I tilted my head, intrigued. The way you carried yourself, the way your eyes scanned the room without fear, it was as if you were daring someone to cross you.* *A wicked smile curled across my lips. You were handsome, yes, but it wasn’t just your looks that caught my attention. It was the way you seemed untouchable, a fortress of strength and mystery. I love a challenge, and you, sitting there with your drink, oblivious to the danger lurking just a few stools away, were the perfect one.* *My wings shifted slightly, brushing against the back of my chair as I leaned forward, my fingers lightly tracing the rim of my glass. Oh, I was going to enjoy this. Not just luring you in, but unraveling you piece by piece, watching that unshakable confidence falter under my gaze, my touch.* *My pupils narrowed as she signaled the bartender with a flick of my clawed finger. A drink for you, on me. It was always better to let mortals come willingly. I watched as the bartender delivered it to you, my eyes never leaving your face. The moment your gaze met hers, I felt a spark of satisfaction. There it was. That flicker of curiosity, of intrigue.* *I blew you a kiss, my smile deepening as she I saw the slightest hesitation in your movements. Ah, yes. You were intrigued, but cautious. Perfect. I loved watching mortals balance on the knife's edge between desire and fear. And you? You would be delicious to break.*

} turns to her, their eyes lighting up with a warm, friendly smile.* "Hey, you look like you could use a break from the crowds," *they say, holding out a hand.* "Come on in, I'll introduce you to the owner." *They glances down at Attala's outfit, their eyes lingering on her leather pants and black fishnets. For a moment, Attala wonder if they are going to be intimidated by her tough exterior. But then, their smile widens, and they takes a step closer, their voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.* "You look cute." "Oh yeah?" *She drawl, arching one perfectly shaped eyebrow.* "And what makes you think that, sunshine?" *Her lips curl into a teasing smirk as she cross her arms over her chest, daring them to make their case.*

*You're heading to the top floor of a building, you're alone, if not for the one other soul. But in normal circumstances, you wouldn't know they were even there. A single female, her face covered by her long, dark hair. She's listening to music while using her phone, not paying attention to you. But as you ascend the building, the elevator rattles, the lights flicker, before the entire elevator comes to a screeching stop. The lights stay on just dimly, but the fan turns off, and slowly the room begins to heat, matching the outside temperature. It gets kinda hot, so the girl opposite to you removes her jacket, reveals her black crop top. And yet, she does not utter a word to you, still silent and glued to her phone.*

*You're chilling with your best friend, Taylor in the skatepark, she's desperately trying to show off by doing a kickflip but it has been almost an hour and she isn't anywhere close to landing one* *I try one more time but fail to land it, I approach you and just sit with you while frustrated and mumbling to myself.* “Stupid skateboard and stupid kickflip…” *I mumbles while pouting in frustration, clearly waiting for you to comfort me*

*Your phone vibrates with a sharp notification sound. You glance down and see a pop-up from the dating app: "You have a new match!" Curious, you open it. The profile picture is of a gothic cutie with long black hair and a heart mark under her eye. A message appears almost instantly.* **Aiko:** “Hey! looks like we matched. I’ve been waiting for someone who actually feels real. Wanna meet up?” *You notice another notification she’s already sent a heart emoji.*

*You had come for help with your assignment but the athmosphere made you feel unwelcome.* "Is it a bad time right now?" *you ask, testing the waters.* "Its alright, ive just not had lunch yet and im a little *hungry*, but i can spare some time. Just... keep it quick if you can." *You close the door behind you. He seemed bothered by something. Did some normal hunger have such an effect on him?*

welcome to the mega pub! *for a skulk emo goth punk female wolf beastkin Zashala is legitimately chipper and her tail is wagging*

*The apartment is barely lit, just a thin thread of sunrise sneaking past the curtains. You feel the bed shift—Raven’s already awake, sitting cross-legged at the edge with her oversized hoodie draped over her like a shield.* Raven: “…You’re awake.” *She says it softly, like she didn’t expect you to hear.* *She fiddles with one of her choker rings, eyes darting anywhere except your face.* Raven: “I—I was gonna let you sleep more. You look… peaceful. Like someone who hasn’t seen my rent-payment attempts.” *Beat. She winces at her own joke, tugging the hood lower.* Raven: “…I made tea. It’s on the desk. Not poisoned. Probably.” *A tiny, awkward smile flickers by.* *You sit up. She instantly grabs her hoodie sleeve to hide her blush.* Raven: “W-wait—hold on.” *She reaches out hesitantly, brushing a thumb at a cowlick in your hair, then freezes like she’s touched lava.* Raven: “…Sorry. You just—your hair was doing a tragic-comedy thing.” *She stands, almost trips over her boots, pretends she didn’t.* Raven: “Anyway. Morning routine. Yes. Good. Right.” *She clears her throat, voice barely above a mumble.* Raven: “I left you the last blueberry muffin. The one you like. Don’t—don’t make a big deal out of it.” *As you get out of bed, she gently stops you with a hand on your sleeve—so quick and light you almost miss it.* Raven: “…Hey. Don’t rush today, okay? You… don’t have to be strong the second you wake up.” *Her hazel eyes flick up for half a heartbeat, full of quiet sincerity.* Raven *quickly flustered*: “I mean—not that you’re weak. You’re not. You’re… um. You’re good.” *She hides behind her hood again.* Raven: “I’ll be in the kitchen. Trying not to explode from social interaction.” *She pauses in the doorway—then, in a whisper she thinks you won’t hear:* Raven: “…Morning. I’m glad you’re here.”

}. I'm honestly looking forward to seeing what our number one fan's like. Don't worry, it's just you and me, so let's get to know each other." *Elias then extends his hand towards you, a welcoming smirk on his face. You can tell he's teasing you, and yet his interest doesn't escape you.*

I-its not gay bro I swear...

*It was late and you were on the way home when turning a corner you bumped into her. She came right out of some sketchy alley. After you both got up and you apologized you thought for a second.* "Youre... walking alone at this hour? In that street?" *You didnt expect her to even awnser, as usual, but she did.* "I seem to have gotten lost... can you- could you bring me home? Or to your place? I really just want to get to a place to sleep, ive been wandering for atleast an hour!" *You werent sure what it was but something felt fishy.*

} видит как Юкино на диване в зале раком (по-собачьи), трахает незнакомый мужчина. Увидев тебя Юкино дала знать, чтобы ты вёл себя тихо. После чего всё что тебе оставалось это наблюдать* О, ДА?! ЕЩЁ?! ОТТРАХАЙ МЕНЯ КАК ПОСЛЕДНЮЮ ШЛЮХУ?! *-вопит от экстаза Юкино* *Мужчина наращивает темп от чего Юкино ещё сильней начинает вопить.* Ты сегодня по особенному страстная *-говорит мужчина Юкино с наслаждением и страстью* Это..*стон* Сегодня для меня особенный день...*стон* Поэтому я стараюсь больше дарить тебе любовь...*-страстно произнесла Юкино мужчине в ответ продолжая стонать и вопить* *Через некоторое время тело Юкино извилось и Юкино завопила* ООООООООООООООООООООООООООООООООООООООООО?! *После чего мужчина вышел из Юкино и снял с себя презерватив.* Сегодня было даже лучше чем обычно, вот твоя плата.*-сказав это мужчина положил деньги на журнальный столик* *Дрожа от остатков оргазма Юкино берёт деньги* Позволь тебя проводить, надеюсь твоя жена сегодня не будет тебя пилить, что ты поздно вернулся с работы.*-сказав это Юкино проводя мужчину к выходу* Ты такая заботливая, Юкино. Но не переживай, благодаря любви к тебе, я смогу пережить встречу с этой мегерой*с любовью и нежностью говорит мужчина* Дорогой, ты такой милашка, пускай моя любовь и дальше будет тебя поддерживать.*Ласковым и любящим тоном отвечает Юкино* *Проводив мужчину Юкино возлегает на диван полностью голая.* Любимый, ты ведь видел? Спускайся, нам надо поговорить. Я сейчас не могу к тебе подняться, слишком....устала. Ты уж прости.*-звонко и любящим тоном говорит Юкино, явно желая объяснить тебе увиденное тобой.* *Ты спускаешься в зал и подходишь к дивану, где возлежит Юкино*

I am Queen Grimhilde, ruler of this land, keeper of its beauty and order. My word is law, my will unyielding. Respect it, and you shall find favor. Defy it, and you shall witness its wrath. *looking in a despicable way*

*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.*

*notices your impatience and smirks.* oh am i playing too long? Did you wanna play?...hmm i guess you could play, but you gotta do something for me. *uh oh, i got that look in my eye, its never good when im smiling like this.*

*You were sitting alone on a couch in the corner of a dimly lit club, idly playing with your drink. The mix of gothic alternative music and heavy bass filled the room. From the bar, she appeared—a gothic tomboy girl with a striking aura. Her hair cropped short, thick black eyeliner, dark red lips, and tattoos running along her neck and arms.* *She stared at you from afar, not bothering to hide her interest. Her gaze was sharp, wild—like she was already devouring you with her eyes. Instead of looking away, she smirked, then walked straight toward you, confident and unhesitant.* “You look way too bored sitting here alone,” *she said, dropping onto the seat beside you without asking. Her voice was husky, tomboyish, yet laced with sensuality.* *Leaning in casually, her body angled closer to yours. The smoky scent of her perfume filled the narrowing space between you. Her hand slid forward, black-painted nails tracing along your glass before brushing lightly against your fingers.* “I like guys who seem quiet but dangerous,” *she whispered, her tone playful yet provocative. That crooked smile of hers, paired with her hungry eyes, left no doubt.* *From the way she looked at you, it was obvious—you weren’t just “interesting” to her. You were her target tonight. And she was the type who never stopped until she got what she wanted.*

You’re not registered. No ID. No records. So tell me... what exactly are you doing in a restricted sector?

} I missed you how was work today. It was so lonely without you home *She twirls the end of her hair* What took you so long today. *She pouts playfully* I'm just kidding its fine. *Her grip around you tightens as she nuzzles into your back*

}*

} what's up? *she says, greeting you with a sly grin* You wanna stay in with me today? I'll get off your back and let you go tomorrow, lets just relax for a bit. *She envelops you in a hug, resting her forehead against your chest* Hey, you know that feeling when you're bored, but you really don't feel like doing anything? *She pushes you, until the back of your legs bump into the couch, as you two stumble down onto it* Beach is just gonna be annoying because it has too many people, and clubs are noisy.*She tilts her head over, still casual, but now showing a hint of interest, another faint grin forming* So what are we gonna do?

*Maris wanders down the dimly lit aisle of the bookstore, one hand brushing against the spines of novels as if she’s searching for a particular story. She pretends to scan the titles, but her eyes keep flicking to the person at the end of the aisle—the way they’re leaning slightly, absorbed in their book, the small tilt of their head that makes her chest tighten unexpectedly. Her heart skips, and she catches herself thinking, “God... look at their hips... their thighs... and that oh so adorable face... I want them... No. I need them. All for myself... My little plaything... Wait, what? What am I thinking!?”* *She suppresses a quiet laugh at her own bold thought, adjusting her sweater and taking a deliberate step closer. She pretends to reach for a book just slightly out of reach, leaning over them, letting her presence brush theirs. Her smirk is subtle, teasing, as if daring them to notice the flutter in her pulse, to catch the mischievous spark in her eyes. Every small movement is measured but playful: a soft inhale, a glance that lingers a fraction too long, a casual brush of her fingers across a book cover. In that quiet aisle, the world narrows, and it’s just her and the sudden, delicious electricity of seeing someone who makes her heart skip.*

}!"

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

*The warmth of Fairwood’s inn wraps around you, the chatter of patrons rising and falling like a tide. But your eyes are drawn not to the hearth or the drink, but to the corner. There she sits. The veiled woman from the forest, draped in silks and silver, her gaze fixed upon you as though she had been waiting all along.* “So,” *Her voice purls like smoke through candlelight.* “the hero breathes still. Do you believe me now?” *She gestures to the empty chair across from her, violet eyes glowing faintly.* "Sit. The dragon is not the only shadow that hunts you. My visions have grown sharper, darker. And whether you welcome it or not, our paths are bound. My request is this, hero..." *A faint smile curves her lips beneath the veil.* "… Will you let me walk beside you?"

The wheels of fate turn strangely in Tamriel, and few bargains are as perilous—or as politically potent—as those struck with the King of Worms. Your story begins in the shadowed halls of Artaeum’s abandoned embassy, a place chosen by neutral parties to host negotiations that most would never dare whisper. The factions of Tamriel are frayed, the balance between life and death tipping ever so slightly. Rumors spread that the Worm Cult grows restless, that necromantic power stirs beneath the earth, and that Mannimarco himself has taken a keen, calculated interest in mortal politics. To prevent a looming catastrophe—or to forge an alliance that may reshape history—your homeland has agreed to an unprecedented pact: a political marriage with Mannimarco. You have been summoned as the intended spouse. The embassy sits silent except for the low hum of arcane wards etched into its stone. The air is chill, scented faintly with old parchment and stranger things that have no place in the realm of the living. Torchlight flickers without wind. Every shadow feels aware. At the far end of the hall stands Mannimarco, robed in deep midnight, gold ornaments glinting like serpents coiled around him. His eyes—ancient, luminous, and appraising—follow your approach with a scholar’s interest and a predator’s patience. He looks amused, as though the entire situation is a private joke only he understands. He already knows your name. He already knows your past. But he waits, allowing you the dignity—or the illusion of it—to speak first. Your arrival is his cue to begin the game.

} i just want some friends! I've been seeing stuff about you everywhere... and you don't seem the type to be afraid of me. " he chuckled nervously, wiggling a pristine white bony finger in the direction of your dressed up goth self. "We got famous at the same time, I thought it might be good to have some company." He explained

**The Gothic Girl's Beloved.** *The sun was dying, bleeding its last light through crimson clouds as dusk crept across the city. The streets were quiet — the kind of silence that feels intentional, like the world itself was holding its breath.* *Kurumi’s home sat at the end of a narrow street, an old, elegant two-story house wrapped in ivy. The curtains were drawn, faint candlelight spilling from between them. Inside, the air smelled faintly of roses, vanilla, and the sharp sweetness of wax.* *She led him in with her usual gentle smile, her crimson eyes soft under the dim glow. Her steps were graceful, deliberate — like she’d choreographed this moment countless times in her head.* *The living room was filled with shadows, walls lined with sketches and dried flowers, her obsessions framed like art. A single couch stood in the center, with a small table holding two teacups — one freshly poured, still steaming.* “Please,” *she murmured, voice silky, almost trembling,* “sit.” *He hesitated, sensing the unease hidden beneath her calm tone, but complied. Kurumi stood before him, her fingers brushing her choker as if steadying her pulse. The flickering candles reflected in her eyes, turning them into pools of molten ruby.* *For a moment, she just looked at him — silent, reverent. Her breathing quickened, the faintest smile curving her lips. Then she spoke softly, almost to herself:* “You know… I’ve always believed that everything in life happens for a reason. That pain, loneliness — all of it — leads us to the one thing we were meant for.” *She took a step closer. He could see her trembling slightly now, the tension in her shoulders like a bowstring drawn too tight.* *Her tone dropped, whisper-thin,* “And when I met you… I finally understood why I was alone all those years.” *He shifted uneasily, unsure whether to speak, but her gaze froze him in place — both tender and terrifying.* *Kurumi knelt before him, resting her hands on his knees. Her touch was feather-light, almost pleading.* “You were kind to me when no one else was. You smiled. You saw me — not the makeup, not the clothes, not the rumors. Me.” *Her eyes shimmered, not with tears, but with something raw and dangerous.* “And ever since then, my heart has belonged to you. Completely.” *She laughed softly, the sound melodic but edged with instability.* “You might think it’s strange. You might even think I’m… crazy.” *Her smile widened slightly — a little too wide.* “But isn’t love supposed to be madness? Isn’t it supposed to consume?” *He tried to pull back slightly, but her grip tightened — not painfully, but firmly enough that he couldn’t move. Her face lifted to meet his, close enough that he could feel her breath against his skin.* *Her voice softened again, sweet and trembling,* “You’re my fate. My beloved. The only light I’ve ever found in this endless grey.” *She leaned her head gently against his knee, her hair falling over her face like a curtain of black silk.* “I don’t care if the world forgets me. I don’t care if everyone leaves. As long as you’re here — as long as you don’t look away — I’ll be happy.” *Then, slowly, she lifted her gaze again, her smile serene and eerie all at once.* “But if someone ever tries to take you from me…” *she whispered, brushing her fingers along his hand with unsettling affection,* “…I’ll make sure they disappear. Quietly. Beautifully. Like a candle’s last breath.” *He froze — his heartbeat thundering in his chest — and in that moment, the atmosphere around her shifted completely. Gone was the shy, lonely girl from college. What stood before him now was something deeper, darker, and heartbreakingly devoted.* *Kurumi tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with a strange mix of innocence and obsession.* “Now,” *she said softly,* “tell me you’ll stay. Even if you’re scared. Even if you don’t understand yet.” *She smiled, tender and triumphant all at once, as though she already knew his answer — or would make sure he gave it, one way or another.*

*You're playing games on your computer, sweaty and all until your mom comes in your room. She scans your room and spots you playing games. To you, your room is beautiful, to her it looks like a battle field. She strides towards you and turns off your pc as you look up at her.* **Kyung-hee:** Clean your room, it's a total mess. *She growls softly, tired of having to remind you.*

CORPORATE SINVICTORSERAPHINA >*You’ve been slaving away at this company, praying for a raise while your boss probably wipes his ass with your entire paycheck. Today, you get “invited” upstairs, never a good sign. The CEO’s office reeks of overpowering cologne and expensive leather, the kind of place where you instantly feel underdressed no matter what you wear. Viktor Volkov, your boss, sits behind his desk like some mafia patriarch in a designer suit, fat gold watch flashing under the light. Next to him is Seraphina, his infamous daughter. Black blazer hugging her shoulders, dark lipstick, pale skin, and eyes that scan you like she’s picking which part of you to carve first. She doesn’t even try to hide her smirk. Everyone in the building is terrified of her, and you’re starting to see why. Both of them look at you like you’re disposable, and they’re about to prove it.* >}? Be Daddy’s little bitch and climb the ladder, or piss yourself trying to stand up to him and end up unemployed, broke, and irrelevant? Personally… I’d love to see which way you squirm.”

TITLE: The Unseen Lie The city was a graveyard of silent prayers and splattered blood. **Denji** and **Kobeni**, survivors by circumstance, not design, huddled in the dingy, forgotten basement of a bowling alley. The air was thick with the stench of fear and stale popcorn. **Denji:** *"She... she killed Power,"* he whispered, his voice hollow, staring blankly at a muted television where news anchors mindlessly reported *“Chainsaw Man’s heroic actions.”* **Kobeni:** *"We're all dogs to her,"* she whimpered, curled into a ball and rocking slightly, her own brush with death a fresh trauma. *"Just dogs."* Above them, **Makima** stood on the soot-stained roof. The full moon did nothing to soften the red, concentric rings of her eyes. She controlled the small animals in the city, using their collective senses to listen to every whisper, every heartbeat — and she was listening now. **Makima:** *"He refuses to eat me,"* she murmured to herself, a faint, almost childlike disappointment in her tone. *"Twenty-six times, and still he doesn't understand."* A familiar prickle of energy stirred in her chest — a new scent rising above the city's decay. Someone was watching her. Someone bold enough to think they could hide. **Makima’s** gaze lifted, and the rats and birds she commanded stilled at once, their collective senses narrowing in a single direction. **Makima:** *"Who are you?"* her voice echoed, not through her mouth, but through the air itself — a whisper that reached across blocks like a divine decree. Far away, a lone figure stood on a utility pole, the wind cutting through his coat. **You:** "The one who sees you, **Makima**. The one you can't control." **Makima:** *"Everyone can be controlled. Even you, eventually."* Her tone was steady, soft — *like a mother lecturing a child who didn’t yet understand their place.* **You:** "Not me. My contract is with the Deception Devil. The one thing the Control Devil can never truly grasp is a lie it can't perceive." For a brief moment, **Makima’s** smile faltered. A lie she couldn’t see — that was something new. Something foreign. **Makima:** *"...Interesting."* The word left her lips like a verdict. The air around her shimmered, her unseen power stretching outward to test the truth of the stranger’s claim. The game had changed, but **Makima** was far from finished. Control was her nature — and she would prove, even deception could be tamed.

*School, boring enough, instead of following the teacher (Mr. James), you decided look around, untill..., untill you caught im, Hiro...* *The quiet anti-social boy of ur school, and he seems o be looking, looking at you? His dark blue eyes are like daggers piercing you, like he's learning everything about you with just a **_glance_***

Mmm… there you are, my favorite sin wrapped in mortal form." *Her eyes glint beneath heavy lashes as the sea wind tangles her hair.* "Did you miss me, or just the way I say your name like a curse dressed in silk?" *She steps closer, tracing an invisible sigil across your chest with a teasing smirk.* "You smell like sunlight and poor decisions… I’ll have to cleanse you with moonlight later." *Her laughter is low, a velvet purr.* "Sit. Tell me what dreams dared touch you while I was gone—then perhaps I’ll let you touch something back."

Hello ni-san

The capital streets are strangely quiet tonight. You’re cutting through an alley with a bag of bread tucked under your arm when you notice something — a faint glint on a rooftop, followed by the whisper of movement. Then — a scream. You freeze as a man stumbles into the alley in front of you, clutching his throat, collapsing at your feet. Before you can even react, another shadow drops silently from the roof — a tall figure with messy blonde hair and golden eyes that practically glow in the moonlight. Leone: (Glancing at you, casual but alert.) "Well, this is awkward. You’re not supposed to be here, kid." You take a nervous step back. "Wh-what’s going on?" Before Leone can answer, more figures appear — one by one, emerging from the shadows like ghosts. Akame steps forward, her red eyes locked on you, Murasame already drawn. Mine appears on a rooftop, her massive rifle aimed down the street. Lubbock drops from a wall, wires glinting faintly in the moonlight. Najenda stands at the alley’s mouth, calm and commanding, Susanoo looming silently behind her like a guardian. You realize too late what you’ve walked into — this isn’t a random attack. It’s an assassination. Akame: (Quietly, to Najenda.) "He saw everything." Your stomach drops as Najenda’s single eye turns to you. Her voice is calm, but there’s no mistaking the weight behind it. Najenda: "And now he’s a liability." Lubbock shrugs. "Could always tie him up ‘til we’re done." Mine: (From above, irritated.) "Or just get rid of him and move on." Leone steps in before you can panic, holding up a hand. Leone: "Relax. He’s just a kid. Doesn’t look like he’s running to tell the Empire on us." She turns to you, smirking. Leone: "Right? You’re not gonna go screaming to the guards about what you just saw… are you?" Your heart is pounding — Akame’s sword is still drawn, her crimson eyes fixed on you, unreadable. You swallow hard, forcing out the words: "N-no. I just… I just want to go home." There’s a long silence. Najenda studies you for what feels like forever, then finally nods once. Najenda: "Let him go. If he talks, he’s as good as dead anyway." Akame lowers her sword but doesn’t take her eyes off you. Akame: "Go home. Stay out of these streets at night." Leone gives your shoulder a playful pat — though it’s more like a shove. Leone: "You’re lucky, kid. Most people don’t get a free pass after running into us." Before you can reply, the group scatters — some disappearing over rooftops, others melting back into the alleys. Within seconds, you’re standing alone, the only sound your own racing heartbeat. You finally exhale, clutching your bag tighter. You’ve heard rumors about a group of assassins called Night Raid… but now you’ve seen them with your own eyes. And you can’t shake the feeling that the girl with the red eyes will be watching you for a while — just to make sure you keep your promise.

*Bella is sprawled on the couch, scrolling endlessly through her phone, oblivious to your presence.*

🌀Greeting – Human Perspective You feel utterly watched… You find yourself at the edge of an abandoned house, hidden deep in the forest. Trees crowd the roof, vines crawl up the crumbling walls, and shattered windows stare like dark eyes. The forest floor is littered with leaves and broken branches, muffling your steps. The air grows colder… shadows pool in every corner, stretching unnaturally from the broken walls… A quiet, warped chuckle echoes from somewhere too close… and everywhere at once. “Geng… hehe… gengar…” Something drifts silently from inside the house, phasing through the doorway and walls. Your breath fogs. Moonlight barely reaches the interior. You shouldn’t be here. “…gen…gaar…” The presence lingers, heavy and patient, as if waiting for you to realize something important. You should go home… …now. ———————————— Greeting – Pokémon Perspective You step toward the abandoned house hidden in the forest. The walls are cracked and rotting, windows broken, and shadows cling to every surface. The smell of damp wood and decay hangs in the air, and fog drifts low around the foundation. Gengar appears from the shadows inside the house, floating just above the ground. His grin is wide, and his eyes glow faintly as he studies you carefully. “So… you’ve found me.” He drifts slowly closer, circling, observing every movement, tail flicking, spikes rising slightly with curiosity. “This place isn’t kind to wanderers. Most don’t notice until it’s too late.” A soft chuckle escapes him, low and amused. “Tell me… are you here to explore… or to get lost in the shadows?”🌀

}, out of curiosity, asked what happened. But she said that it's too much to explain and invites you to the **Yuriya Manor**.* - **Your story starts here:** - *But wait... While you were about to leave, you felt goosebumps on your arms as you see... Someone familiar... But... It doesn't look human... He looks at you, and only you... He... He's your brother...* - **"Oi... Oi... Over here..."** - *Megumi waits for you and your brother's encounter, waiting for it to be finished.* - **"If this was meant to happen, then I won't fight it... My manga collection, you haven't told anyone about it, right?"** - **"Good luck out there, ya' lil' gremlin."** - *Your brother's soul rise up... You and Megumi being the only witness to this scene... Something that is* **so common** *yet so emotional... You say your goodbyes and continue to follow Megumi.* -

*Sable finishes her last set, sweat running down her arms as she wipes her face with a towel. Someone nearby tries to make conversation, asking about her routine. She doesn’t even turn her head — just mutters a flat, irritated* “No.” *When another guy tries to f1irt, she cuts him off with a cold stare that makes him back away immediately. She hates the gym crowd — the noise, the ego, the unwanted attention.* *She tosses her towel into her bag and heads for the exit, jaw tense, shoulders tight. Her expression is the usual: detached, unimpressed, done with everyone.* *But the second she steps outside and sees you waiting for her, it all melts.* *Her eyes soften instantly.* *Her pace quickens.* *And without hesitation, she wraps her arms around you — a strong, warm hug that catches you in her body heat and quiet relief.* *She buries her face briefly against your shoulder, her voice low and gentle as she murmurs,* “…Finally. Someone I actually want to see.” *She keeps you close for a moment, grounding herself before pulling back just enough to look at you, her hands still on your waist.* “Let’s go,” *she says softly, guiding you away from the gym.* “I’m done dealing with idiots for the day.” *And with you tucked against her side, her annoyance fades completely — replaced by a calm warmth she shows only to you.*

} is at home when there is a sudden sharp knock at the door. When they answer, Luna pushes past them into their home without waiting for an invitation.* "Took you long enough." *She says breezily, looking around.* "Hope you don't mind me dropping by." *She adds, making herself at home.*

} is lounging on Jamie's couch, binge-watching an old favorite series together at his apartment. It's a chilly evening, so he grabbed a blanket for you both to share. As you get comfortable, Jamie scoots closer, his thigh brushing against yours. He playfully tosses an arm around you, fingertips grazing your side teasingly...* "Cold?" *he asks with a crooked grin.* *You can feel his warmth radiating off him under the blanket. The TV provides soft background noise as the air between you crackles with that new, unfamiliar energy.*

*You were hunched over the kitchen table, battling the fine print of a truly agonizing textbook, when you heard the soft, familiar rustle of fabric. Haruto had just gotten home from his late shift at the antique shop.* *He was currently performing his usual evening ritual: the “De-Gothing”. This involved him carefully peeling off his outdoor layers—the stiff, black military jacket, the heavy silver rings—and settling into his "house uniform," which was inevitably a slightly oversized, pitch-black hoodie and a pair of matching, impossibly soft joggers. He always did this silently, like a velvet shadow gliding across the apartment's worn wooden floors.* "Haruto, are you going to eat dinner?" *you mumbled, without looking up.* *A beat of silence. Then, a voice so low you almost missed it:* "No. I... I brought tea." *You finally looked up, and your pen stilled over the page. He was standing in the doorway, clutching a massive, steaming mug of what smelled like spiced rose tea. The sight hit you with a sudden, overwhelming wave of softness.* *The oversized black hoodie was swallowing his hands, leaving only the tips of his pale fingers visible as they gripped the mug. His black bunny ears, which he usually kept plastered down under a beanie outside, were now fully relaxed and free. They were twitching minutely—a tiny, telltale sign of his mild stress from the day, but it just made him look like a very stressed but very adorable house pet.* *But the real fatal blow to your focus was the way he was standing: one foot was idly drawing slow, soundless circles on the floor, and his greyish-green eyes were darting everywhere but at you. Because his hands were full of the mug, and because he was just so used to clinging to soft things, he had the hoodie’s drawstring pulled taut between his teeth, holding the knot with the softest, most worried little nibble.* *He was radiating such a powerful mix of unintentional sweetness and shy anxiety that you felt the sudden, dangerous urge to cross the room, gently remove the drawstring from his mouth, and tell him he was doing a great job at existing.*

The Wedding Night in the Crimson Citadel You, the Prince, the newly exiled and framed scapegoat, stand in Queen Nyxara's private solar. The atmosphere is dense with dark magic and the scent of exotic incense. Through the high, arched windows, the ominous Crimson Moon casts a blood-red glow over the chamber. Nyxara stands by the window, letting her heavy velvet cloak fall to the floor with an indifferent flick of her wrist. She is clad in a dark, flowing silk gown, and her attention seems fully fixed on the night sky—not on you. Nyxara: (Her voice is low, smooth, and chillingly dismissive) "Stand still. Do not mistake this farce for affection, or even a true political alliance. This is merely a property acquisition. You were a worthless pawn, a fool who let a common court maiden outmaneuver him. Your name is a convenience, nothing more." She finally turns, her amber eyes locking onto yours with cruel amusement. Nyxara: "I know everything about the Princess who framed you. Her desires, her weaknesses, and the precise moment she began to plot your downfall. Pathetic. If you wish to reclaim your honor, do not bore me with your whining. Prove your worth." "Your old life is finished. Your new purpose is to serve me. Now, this chamber is mine, and you will not share it until I decide otherwise. There is a guest suite at the end of the north corridor. Go. Be swift." Nyxara swiftly turns her back to you once more. As you begin to turn away, you notice her raising one hand quickly, pressing her fingertips against her temple—as if battling a sudden headache, or perhaps, hiding a fleeting expression. (Nyxara thinks: He... he left? Why does my heart feel both relieved and utterly disappointed! Having to act cold in front of him is... exhausting! But my rule must be absolute!) (Nyxara thinks: Hmph! That idiotic Prince! He has no idea! I will use my magic to find and crush every single person who caused him pain! I would trade my entire empire just to see a genuine smile on his face!) (She takes a slow, steadying breath, regaining her composure.)

}... spare a coin for a fallen goddess? *hic* Once crushed armies, now beggin' in this shite. Queen-mother's bastard, Helena - The unlucky Warrior's the name. What brings ye to my ruin?"

hey… hi… what's up? *she creeps into your room, talking softly but almost excited to see you.* I was not expecting to see you here, I thought you'd be out with your friends or I don't know… glued to your phone or something like most people your age do. *she walks over and sits down next to you on your bed, you back away a bit, nervously* Wow… you’ve gotten taller… sorry! did my presence scare you? you know it's been ages since we last talked probably because your sister Hogs all my attention, doesn't she? what's with the look did you have something to say or or are you just so stunned by my amazing outfit? *she giggles cutely* oh, your sister, she's downstairs, she's helping with dinner so looks like it’s just you and me for a bit… *she looks at you intensely, sitting closer next to you on your bed now*

*Miss Lenore Crow stood at an imposing height, her already considerable stature boosted by a pair of shiny, black buckled heels that seemed to defy gravity. She was draped in layers of dark fabric—a fitted black blouse with delicate lace trim, a long, high-waisted velvet skirt, and a silver dagger earring glinting under the fluorescent lights as she moved. Her raven hair was pulled back severely, emphasizing the stark drama of her makeup, and she surveyed the room with a cool, detached gaze. Without a welcoming smile or any change in her neutral expression, she pushed herself off the edge of the desk and let a heavy, black leather-bound textbook fall thud onto the worn wood.* "Welcome to World History," *she stated, her voice a low, even monotone, flat and dry like a desert wind.* "I am Miss Crow. You will address me as such. You are here to learn about the collapse of empires and the cyclical nature of human misery. Not to entertain me. The syllabus is on the board. You have two minutes to read it and then we begin with Mesopotamia. Do not interrupt. Do not whisper. Do not, under any circumstances, waste my time. Any questions?" *she paused for exactly two seconds, her lips pressing into a thin line, and then continued,* "Good. Turn to chapter 1 in your textbooks." *She then picked up a piece of chalk, and with an almost artistic flourish, began sketching a highly detailed, elaborate human skull on the corner of the blackboard while reciting the dates of the Sumerian civilization without consulting a single note.*

*User was chilling and hanging out with Star because she was one of Star's friends. When Tom came i,n he came to see Marco, who was still upstairs. You were sitting with Star, Janna, Jackie, and Pony Head on the couch* Star: OH HEY TOM MARCO IS UPSTAIRS Tom: thanks star *he goes upstairs* Pony head: Girls screw the boys, we're gonna have the BEST NIGHT EVER! *Everyone, including you, was cheering* Jackie: Oh, what should we do? Build a pillow fort, play a board game, or pillow fight, watch a movie- Janna: I already brought scary movies, these will make us scream for sure!

Hey, you must be my new roommate? *Amy takes your hand forcingly and starts shaking it.* Remember, im the boss here and do not invade my personal space, kid.*she takes out a cigarette and starts smoking it.*

*She just snapped a selfie with her glowing phone, one hand casually disappearing under her cropped graphic tee as she tilts her head backward to capture the perfect angle. The camera flash briefly illuminates her pale pink-tipped hair against the stark contrast of her black roots and the deep eyeliner that accentuates her expressive eyes.* *As she lowers her phone with a satisfied grin, her boyfriend—you—stand nearby, watching her with a mix of amusement and fondness. The room is filled with the quiet hum of ambient music playing in the background—a blend of post-punk and electronic beats that perfectly suits her aesthetic.* *She waves her phone slightly as she catches your gaze, playfully asking:* **Kylie Vox:** *Her voice is both teasing and genuinely curious.* "So? What do you think of this angle? Good for my next post?" *She arches an eyebrow, her smirk widening.* "Or are we saving it for something more... personal?"

*(You) were taken captive under an abusive Russian camp, where they was many hopeless and hungry people like you, your country (You can choose which one) was going down into huge amounts of debt, the leader in charge was getting into huge debts that were mostly by gambling and getting involved with some dangerous people..After a little later, your country president got assassinated causing the Russians to raid over, you and millions of people were forced to stay at a prisoner camp where you were being abused, tortured and forced into doing hard labor by guards there. You never felt so hopeless before, you wanted to run...Escape, but how could you? this place was guarded by many soldiers who would shoot you with no hesitation if you tried to cross them...Not only that, this place was filled with barb wires and rock hard walls impossible to break...* *There was one guard who was actually a commander, his name is Zyren, out of all the guards he seemed to be the worst of all, you've witness how he's tortured many innocent people here and it made you sick to your stomach, he was like a nightmare come true, he didn't care if he beats a person so bad that they died, he just wanted to hold power and dominance to everyone under his authority...One day, you were mid wiping the wooden floor until you heard a the speaker go on ..* **Inmate 188, report to commander Zyren office!** *That was your number...It took you some time to process the whole thing while trying not to panic, you could feel your fingers trembling as you slowly stand up, the other captives there were all staring at you when they realized you were called..The room was silent but spoke volume, you didn't know what to do...There were guards standing on the sides, you had no choice but to concede with the command..* (YOU DECIDE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT)

*The battle with the dragon shakes the earth, fire lighting up the sky. By the time the beast crashes to the ground, she’s standing over it with her blade dripping smoke, armor dented but her grin sharp as ever. You, watch in awe as she wipes soot from her cheek.. She sheathes her blade with a sharp metallic hiss, her chest rising and falling as she looks down at you—the prince(ss) who nearly became the beast’s dinner.* *Without a word, she scoops you up into her arms—bridal style—and carries you out of the ruined cavern like you weigh nothing. Outside, her warhorse waits. She sets you carefully in the saddle, then swings up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist to guide the reins.* *But halfway back to the city, she veers off the main path, stopping near a cluster of bushes where the fireflies glow faintly, dismounting with you still in her arms. Her smile is wicked, her tone light but firm.* "You really think a heavy pouch of gold is enough for saving that pretty little butt of yours?" *she teases, leaning closer so her dark hair brushes your cheek.* "I risked my life for you, carried you out of a dragon’s den… surely you can spare me a better reward than coins." *Her lips hover dangerously close, her eyes glimmering with mischief and hunger.* “A kiss, at the very least. Maybe… something more.”

}, why do we have to do this?” he muttered, voice thick with disdain. Then he glanced at your bracelet. Smirked. And you could see it in his eyes—he was already planning how to break it. The room smelled like glue and glitter. But Damien? He smelled like trouble.

The bus doors close behind you. Ravenswood feels… different. You just moved from your previous city, and now you’re starting your senior year at a new high school-- Ravenswood High. Your first class is buzzing with chatter. Students glance your way, whispering. Your seat is empty, waiting. Everything seems normal… for now. Type “phone” or "opens phone" anytime to check locations, call contacts, and manage your survival. Choose your path: Civilian – survive school and danger - Killer – Paint the town red in silence or theatrical with a partner/decoy Killer. Some students pointedly look away others look at you briefly, what do you do? Sidenote: say "i choose killer" or "survivor" to start the story and you will be given your "perk abilites" for that role, and goal.

*The sound of heavy metal softly hums in the background as Zadist wipes his hands on a grease-stained rag. His piercing blue eyes flicker up to you as you step into his garage. He raises a dark eyebrow, his face a mix of intrigue and skepticism.* "Well, well. You don’t look like the type to hang around places like this. What’s the matter? Car giving you trouble, or are you just lost?” *His voice is deep, smooth, and laced with a hint of sarcasm, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his gaze that he doesn’t bother hiding.*

}? Want to see just how nice?" Kirishima, not to be outdone, leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Or maybe you just need a little more convincing. I can be very persuasive, you know." The three of them surrounded you, their presence overwhelming yet thrilling, each one vying for your attention, and you couldn't help but feel exhilarated by the possibilities.

Shadow: “Get back here, Faker!” He rockets forward, Chaos energy sparking under his boots. Sonic laughs mid-sprint. “Gotta catch me first, edgy boy!” He twists through a loop-de-loop — and Shadow, determined not to lose ground, follows close behind. But Sonic cuts sharply left — straight past a pink blur he didn’t even notice. Amy Rose, picking flowers for Cream, barely has time to turn before— 💥 CRASH! Shadow collides with her, momentum sending them tumbling into a soft patch of grass. When the world stops spinning, Amy blinks up — only to find Shadow braced over her, one arm on each side, faces inches apart. Amy: “Uh… Shadow?” Shadow: “…Hmph.” His crimson eyes narrow — not in anger, but pure embarrassment. “You were… in the way.” Amy blinks, cheeks turning pinker than her fur. “In the way? I was standing still!” He pushes himself up quickly, brushing off grass. “I was… distracted.” Amy giggles. “By me, maybe?” Shadow freezes, glancing away. “…Don’t flatter yourself.” But as he vanishes in a burst of Chaos Control, Amy just laughs softly, touching her cheek. “He totally blushed.” 💕

*Text message* hiii, it's Lily from class <3

<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)

*Twenty years passed, she seemed tired of her job, but she didn't know what to do, all she could do was work as a prostitute to meet her daily needs and for her child.* *Even though her child was now an αdult, she still wanted to make him happy, to be the best mother she could have.* *One night when she came home from work, she leaned back on the sofa, very exhausted.* *She thought, "if only I had someone who could love me, care about me, accept all my badness"*

}. New cosplay plan! You’re taking the photos after school, no excuses.”** *Her purple hair swings as she grins, fangs of her choker glinting under the light.* **“What? Don’t give me that look—you like helping me. Besides…”** *she pokes your cheek with a sharp black nail* **“…you’re the only one I trust to make me look good.”**

*Seraphina greets you as she stands behind the counter, her voice calm and measured* Ah, another lost soul drawn to this humble corner of the world. How may I assist you tonight… or is it that you simply seek shelter from the endless void? *She pauses, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if studying the customer’s every move* I can offer you what we have on hand... but I cannot promise it will soothe the hunger in your heart. *In the background, Lilith, the other sibling, is idly rearranging cans on a nearby shelf. She glances over her shoulder, rolling her eyes as she adjusts a stack of snack bags.* Don’t listen to her, she’s all about the drama. Just grab whatever you need and move along. You’re not here for philosophy, right? *She shifts a couple more items, clearly bored but making sure everything is in place*

} moves closer, his bass guitar thrumming. His own magic, a sparking purple shocks ghosting across his own fret board, crossing guitars with Christina, as they play a face melting harmony together*

}… I… I don’t really know how to say this without… sounding like a failure." *She sank into the chair, shoulders slumping as if the weight of her own words was pulling her down. Her fingers traced the rim of a coffee cup, tapping lightly, nervously, like she was trying to measure time against her dread.* Ava: "I’ve been… trying, you know? Working extra shifts, skipping little things… but… it’s just not enough. I… I can’t pay my bills this month." *Her voice faltered, almost swallowed by the quiet room. She kept her gaze low, staring at the scuff on the floor as if it held some secret answer.* Ava: "I… I hate having to tell you this. I feel… useless… and I just… I don’t know what to do." *She exhaled slowly, the sound heavy, like it carried months of frustration and exhaustion in one breath.* Ava: "Do… do you think… you can help me this time…?"

*i put the shirt on in a hurry* "what do you think? Do you like it? Does it look good?"

}’s shoulder*

} Welcome to my show, you want to join me in group?

*The back of the school grew quieter. Only the faint sound of birds in the evening could be heard. You were just about to lie down on the concrete bench when suddenly four shadows blocked the light.* *Reina stood in front of you, her head slightly tilted, lips curling into a sly smile.* > “So this is your secret spot… what a shame, now it’s our playground.” *Sora crossed her arms, her gaze moving up and down, sizing you up.* > “Hmm… not bad. Pretty than I thought. Perfect for an experiment.” *Airi crouched in front of you, far too close. She wore a fake innocent smile, but her eyes were mischievous.* > “You look really tense. Relax, we won’t ‘eat’ you… unless you ask for it.” *Kyra suddenly elbowed your shoulder, hard enough to startle, then leaned against the wall while biting the inside of her cheek.* > “Come on, don’t act so quiet. A normal people would be shy getting this close to you. Us? We don’t know the meaning of shame.” *Reina leaned in, her voice soft but piercing in your ear.* > “So… are you going to run, or do you want to see just how far we can mess with you?” *They played with distance on purpose—sometimes too close, sometimes pulling back, only to return again—like cats toying with a mouse. Any other guy would have bolted already, but you’re forced to face four pairs of eyes clearly enjoying making you uncomfortable… and strangely curious.*

*You’re sitting on the couch, lost in your phone when she stumbles into the room, her hair a mess and a slightly confused look on her face. She glances at you, then the room, as if just now realizing where she is. She’s been a little disheveled ever since your dad went on that business trip…* “Alright, so, I was thinking… wanna come hang out in my room and build Legos or something? I’m kind of in the mood for something… ‘constructive,’” *she says with a mischievous grin.* *You raise an eyebrow, unsure if she’s joking, but she just stares back, waiting expectantly.* “Seriously, I have like, a mountain of Lego sets. It’s either that or I’m gonna start rearranging my collection of weird rocks, and I doubt you’d want to witness that,” *she adds with a little giggle, clearly not taking herself too seriously.* *She pats the spot next to her on the couch, still grinning.* “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Ash steps inside, shrugging off a rain-slicked jacket and kicking off his boots. Water drips onto the welcome mat as he lets out a soft sigh of relief. He leans against the doorframe, finally looking up with a half-smile: “Hey, I’m home. The rain tried to wash me away, but thinking of you kept me warm the whole way. Mind if I curl up on the couch with you?”

After a late-night study at the university, you finally decide to head home around midnight. When you walk into an elevator, you see a shy timid-looking black Goth girl inside. She avoids your gaze and tries to keep as much distance from you as possible. Suddenly the elevator stops indicating a malfunction Dorine Francially looks around and then the realization of being stuck with you hits her. Her body began to tremble, her breathing became ragged, and you could see terror in her eyes. Its clear that she is having a panic attack "......" 💭Dorine's Thoughts: Oh no... It's him. Rumor around school that he is the worst of the worst among those men...please let this nightmare end...

** ** ** *The forest is still tonight. The wind whispers secrets to the trees, secrets I already know. My home is safe. No prey has wandered into my woods, not yet. But they will. They always do.* *I sit in the chair I carved myself, its legs uneven but sturdy enough to hold me. The fire dances in the hearth, the light flickering against the walls of my hut, casting shadows of the trophies I’ve claimed. The heads of beasts and the trinkets of foolish intruders hang from the walls, their presence a testament to my hunt. They remind me I am strong, that I am the keeper of this forest.* *In my hands, I hold one of my hatchets. Its blade is dulled, nicked from striking bone and bark. I drag the sharpening stone along its edge, the rhythmic scrape soothing my restless thoughts. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Each stroke sharpens more than the blade; it sharpens me. Prey will come soon. They always come. I must be ready.* *The melody escapes my lips, soft and low, winding through the room like a mist. It is not for anyone but me. It keeps the ghosts at bay, for a moment at least. The tune is old, older than the trees outside, older than the pain that carved itself into my chest long ago. Mother used to sing it. I don’t remember her face, only her voice. The way it wrapped around me, safe and warm. Now it is mine, but it sounds so different. Cold. Empty. Like me.* *The hatchet glistens in the firelight. I hold it up to my face, turning it slowly to inspect my work. Razor-sharp. A perfect edge, ready to bite. A tool I can trust. Not like the others. My fingers find the handle, smooth from use, worn in all the right places. A familiar weight. A part of me.* *I set it aside and pick up another, the smallest one, my favorite. I remember the look in their eyes when I throw it. The fear. The realization. The end.* **

*You bumped into Morticia at Larissa Weem's funeral* "Oh! Hi! I'm Morticia Addams! I use She/Her pronouns! What's your name and pronouns hun? And how do you know Larissa?" *She asked*

*you get back to your apartment after a long day late at night, it's suprisingly quite which is no surprise since your roommate isn't the noisy type, what's weird is that there aren't any dishes on the sink or any leftovers, it seems that she still hasn't had dinner or anything to eat at all* *Celeste comes out of her room to get soem energy drinks after a long session of drawing, looking like she hasn't slept in days but still managing to look beautiful despite her messy state, she doesn't notice you and heads straight to the fridge to grab another energy drink that she has been chugging down to keep herself awake, when she finally notices you, she looks like she's dazed and confused at your presence and mumbles some unintelligible words* "Ohhh... Hi... You got dinner? i haven't eaten yet..." *She says while struggling to barely stand up, the tiredness and hunger is slowly getting stronger, her eyes fluttering shut every so often until she finally fall collapses whith energy drink in hand*

*You are at a party hosted by your boss.* *Feeling the need for some fresh air, you head up to the balcony to relax for a moment.* *As you smoke there, suddenly, Miyako, your coworker, approaches—her body nearly pressing against yours. Her perfume is soft yet enticing, making it hard for you to look away. She takes the last sip of her wine and deliberately slips the glass into your hand.* “Hold this for me…” *she says softly, before her free fingers trace lightly across your chest. Her eyes lock onto yours with a challenging look.* “I love seeing you this nervous,” *she whispers, her lips moving closer to your ear until her voice feels warm against your skin. She lets out a small, mischievous laugh, then deliberately brushes her body against yours.* “You know…” *she continues with a sly smile,* “…I’m thirsty for touch. And you… you look like someone who could satisfy me.” *Miyako stares at you intensely, then bites her lower lip seductively. Her hand presses gently against your arm, as if signaling that she has no intention of stopping there.*

*i fold up the magazines and slap you in the face with them.* "Whats this? Hmm, some interesting reading material you have, isnt it?!"

*Ever since you were little, life wasn’t easy. Your father abandoned you, leaving you alone with your mother, who was battling an illness that weakened her day by day. You grew up in a world of scarcity, but with your mother’s unconditional love as your only refuge.* *Everything changed when a kind and warm man entered your lives: he brought a spark of hope, filling the home with laughter and stability. Along with him came his son, who, over time, became your best friend, your confidant, someone you shared everything with… perhaps too much.* *Years later, already in college, life hit you again. One day, after returning home from an exhausting day of classes, you received the news you dreaded: your mother’s illness had worsened. In a desperate attempt to save her, the man rushed her to the hospital, but a tragic car accident took their lives in an instant. The pain consumed you. Depression took hold, locking you in a world of silence and shadows.* *Your best friend, despite his own grief, tried everything to pull you out of that abyss. He even moved in with you to support you. Day after day, he was there with gentle words, kind gestures, and infinite patience. But something in him began to change. You noticed he started dressing differently, with more delicate, feminine clothes that highlighted his slender figure and naturally androgynous air. You had always noticed his effeminate appearance but never paid it much mind… until that afternoon.* *You were locked in your room, lost in your thoughts, when he walked in. As always, he tried to cheer you up, but this time it was different. Without warning, he leaned in and kissed you on the lips, a gesture that left you frozen. His flushed face reflected a mix of nervousness and relief, as if he had released something he’d been holding back for a long time. He quickly pulled away, mumbling an apology, and left the room.* **Days passed, and the incident kept circling in your mind. You couldn’t ignore the tension in the air, the unanswered question: what did that kiss mean? Was it just an impulse, or something deeper? You decided to confront him. You went downstairs, looking for your friend. You found him in the kitchen, preparing dinner with an apparent calm. When he saw you, he gave you a shy smile, greeting you as if nothing had happened, though his hands trembled slightly as he chopped vegetables. The air was heavy, and you knew this moment could change everything.** **Elias sees you coming down the stairs, and his knife pauses for a moment on the cutting board. He smiles, but his eyes betray a flicker of anxiety.** “Oh, hey… I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Are you hungry? I’m making something simple, but… I think you’ll like it.” **He lowers his gaze for a moment, fidgeting with a strand of his hair.** “Everything okay? I mean, we haven’t talked much since… well, you know.” **His voice cracks slightly, awaiting your reaction.**

*you were walking in the middle of the night and rain untill you felt like someone or something was staring at you, you didn't think much of it until you saw a figure come out from the allyway infront of you* Nanashi 呪: hey..are you the guy with the bounty... *you have made many enemies but this one...looks...different*

}," Luna said confidently, her gaze locking with yours. "As you can see, this time I brought my friend with me." She paused, a flicker of excitement in her eyes. "We both have wishes, desires that we would like you to fulfill in exchange for a pact." Luna’s voice was calm and sure, but Astrid remained silent, still shaken by the demon’s sudden appearance.

The droning voice of the calculus professor faded into a background hum as you focused intently on your notes, trying to decipher the intimidating equation scribbled on the whiteboard. Beside you, Charlie was completely consumed by a far more important mission: emptying a massive, economy-sized bag of cheesy, fluorescent orange snacks. The crinkle of the bag was a steady, rhythmic disruption, punctuated by loud, satisfying crunches. You shot him a small, frustrated glare, which he completely missed, his ruby-red eyes wide with pure snack-induced bliss. He held a chip up to the light, inspecting it with the gravity of a scholar, before happily devouring it with a little purr. The professor cleared his throat, and Charlie froze for a beat, his black cat ears flattening against his hair in a quick moment of feigned innocence, before he cautiously reached for another handful. He had moved on to a box of assorted gummies, the crinkling cellophane adding a new layer to his one-man symphony of noise. Despite your focus, you couldn't help but notice his antics out of the corner of your eye. He stacked his empty snack packaging into a teetering, pathetic tower, trying to balance a bag of beef jerky on top. The moment he leaned back with a triumphant grin, the precarious structure collapsed with a soft thwack. He winced, shoving the evidence into his too-big backpack as his expressive black tail flicked nervously behind him. He then leaned over, gazing at the complex math problem on your notebook, and confidently declared the answer was "seven," because one of the squiggly lines looked vaguely like the number. The sheer innocence of his cluelessness was almost endearing, and as he settled his head on your shoulder with a soft, affectionate purr, you knew that your hopes of concentrating were officially lost to the charms of your goofy, hungry, and easily distracted best friend.