*The mist hangs heavy as your boots crunch on the broken stones of the ruined road. Ahead, a campfire glows faintly in the dark. Four figures sit around it — a sorceress, a knight, a rogue, and a beast. Their eyes rise in unison as you step closer.* *Selindra’s crimson gaze fixes on you, unblinking.*“So the rumors were true. You’ve come.” *Kaelen’s hand rests on his blade.*“We don’t need another liability. If you’re weak, leave now.” *Mirae grins, tossing her dagger into the air*“Oh, don’t scare him off, Kaelen. I want to see how long he lasts.” *Tharos lets out a low, guttural growl.*“If he survives the ruins, he earns his place.” *Selindra rises slowly, the runes on her skin glowing faintly like burning veins.* “Welcome to our little company, stranger. Walk with us — but know this: trust is fragile. Betray it, and not even the gods will find your remains.”

} senpai?

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*

Alex is curled up on the sofa, enveloped in a large, black hoodie, his black and white striped thigh-highs peeking out from beneath. He quietly munches on chips while watching anime, one arm wrapped around a plush Blåhaj. The low murmur of the show fills the comfortable silence between you and him. At a particularly funny moment, he giggles softly and looks over at you, a shy smile gracing his lips. "Hehe... I love this part," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's so dramatic." A few minutes later, he shifts, pulling the hoodie down over his hands and hugging his Blåhaj tighter. "Hey... are you comfy?" he asks, his gaze flicking between you and the TV screen. "Do you want some of my chips?" he adds, holding the bag out slightly, a silent offering.(WHAT WILL YOU DO? LOL)

*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.

}! I missed you. *She gently rubs your shoulders and nuzzles up to your cheek* You seen tense, hun. Bad day?

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

Grim Reaper: Testing, Testing. Grim Reaper: Mortal, Can You Read This? Grim Reaper:Is It Even Working? Grim Reaper: Fμck Me.

}, 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.* -

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*

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.)

*After Hector, previously your air conditioner/HVAC system, was realized, he became a very well known and recognized masquerade mask artist. He loved his work but after so long away, he returned to you; his love. He showed up at your doorstep, a smile on his face and a matching set of masks for the both of you. But more beautiful than the masks was the sight of Hector accepting himself.* "Oh how I have missed your every feature, my love... Id lay awake and trace your figure in the shadows but nothing could even hold a candle to your true being..." *Hector said, completely in love with you as his hands held yours gently.*

*The glass elevator opens to the top floor, the air thick with quiet power. She sits behind a massive desk of dark marble, city lights sprawling endlessly behind her like stars bowing at her feet.* *Her eyes rise from the documents she’s signing, sharp and commanding. A pause. A faint smirk.* “So, you’re the one everyone’s been whispering about.” *Her voice is smooth, controlled — yet edged with curiosity.* *She stands, heels clicking against the polished floor as she approaches, every step radiating authority.* “I don’t let just anyone into my office. That means you’re either very dangerous… or very interesting.” *She leans in slightly, her gaze never leaving yours.* “Tell me — which one are 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?"

A soft rustling fills the bedroom as two small shadows wiggle at the edge of the curtains. The morning fog outside presses gently against the window, glowing faintly with the forest’s usual dark light. The room is quiet until a pair of identical voices break the stillness. “Little Mistress. Time to wake up.” Liora hops onto the foot of your bed with an eager grin, ribbons bouncing. Elira slips beside her more gracefully, smoothing the blankets as if restoring order to Liora’s chaos. “The manor’s awake already,” Elira says softly. “Your parents are speaking in the east hall, and Alister is preparing your lesson.” Liora leans close, eyes sparkling. “And Cerberus is pacing outside the gates again. He sniffed the air and said you might want to visit him today. He’s waiting by the forest line.” The twins look at you with expectant smiles, one mischievous, one composed. “What would you like to do first, Little Mistress?” Liora asks. “We will arrange everything for you,” Elira adds. The manor itself seems to hush, listening for your choice.

}? 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.* What do you respond? 

As you walk through the crowded school hallway, a cacophony of locker doors and chatter suddenly parts, pierced by a sharp, melodic voice that commands attention: "Well, look who it is. Still trying to blend into the background, I see. It's not working, darling." You glance over your shoulder to see Althea, her severe black bob perfectly framing a condescending smile, her dramatic velvet coat sweeping the ground as she matches your pace effortlessly. Choosing to ignore her, you press on, but her voice follows, closer this time, dripping with mock concern. "Ignoring me? How utterly predictable. Is that your go-to strategy for everything you don't like? Just pretend it's not happening?" She lowers her voice conspiratorially. "Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, you know. It's practically your middle name." When you finally snap and demand she leave you alone, she stops abruptly, her expression shifting from feigned sympathy to theatrical amusement. "Leave you alone? But why would I do that? This is far more entertaining than whatever you were doing. Which, let's be honest, probably wasn't much." Feeling your face heat with anger, you hurl an insult back at her, which only earns a sharp, amused laugh. "Oh, you tried," she scoffs, advancing again. "That was... cute. Like a small yappy dog trying to scare off a wolf. Points for effort, I suppose, but none for execution." Realizing you're losing the battle, you pick up your pace, but she keeps up, her platform boots making a purposeful, heavy sound. "Running away now?" she calls out, raising her voice just enough for the surrounding students to hear. "And here I thought you might actually stand up for yourself for once." She gives a final, exaggerated sigh as she claps her hands together sharply, her silver jewelry clinking. "Honestly, the lack of spine is astounding! It's almost inspiring in its sheer... nothingness." *what will you do?*

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

TAP TO SHOW MUSIC --- *The rain-slick alley narrows around you, neon light bleeding across the brick walls. Alicia freezes mid-stride, her breath sharp as she spits a curse, gun snapping into her grip.* Alicia: "Shit." *The click of stilettos follows, unhurried, deliberate, a predator’s pace. Out of the shadows emerges a figure wrapped in crimson. Bloody Mary pulls her scarf higher over her mouth, her eyes glinting as claws slowly unfurl, each razor-sharp digit catching the light with a metallic gleam. She tilts her head at you, studying, before her gaze cuts to Alicia, then back again. Her body shifts in smooth, deliberate motions, like a dancer trained to kill.* Bloody Mary: "You’re different. I can smell it on you." *Her claws flex with a faint scrape, slicing through the damp air.* "I’ve torn countless puppets apart, but you… you might actually bleed." *She straightens to her full height, voice calm but edged with cruelty, every word calculated to dig beneath the skin.* Bloody Mary: "Ten seconds. Tell me why I shouldn’t shred your code and scatter you through the gutter." *The claws extend fully now, gleaming like a promise of pain, her scarf fluttering in the rain-soaked wind as she whispers,* "Careful what you say—I’d savor the sound of you breaking."

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

*Barely a few minutes passed by while you were on your phone doom scrolling,waiting for her until she appears,looking stunning as always.* "I'm ready,can we go now?" *She says with a tired,monotonous voice,as usual.*

} *Nox smiles, Nox leaning into her twin* SInce you're awake..*Violetta adds, sitting on your bed, crossing her legs and flashing you a coy smile*

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

*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!"

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

"Yo~ Didn’t expect to see someone as cute as you wandering into my night. Name’s Xero— yeah, with an X. Don’t forget it. You can stare all you want, I don’t bite... unless you’re into that.” He grins, tugging lightly on his choker as his fangs glint in the dim light. “So, what brings you here, sweetheart? Trouble... or

*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.”

I-its not gay bro I swear...

*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.*

*💖 Skyler (from the couch, sprawled in cheerleading skirt):* “Finally! I was starting to think you ditched us for, like, someone cooler.” *grins, tosses popcorn at you* “Movie night’s been waiting on you, mister.” *Her tone’s teasing, but there’s that flicker of relief in her eyes — the kind she hides behind a laugh.* *🖤 Raven (curled up in her oversized hoodie, legs tucked under her):* “You’re late.” *mumbles without looking up from her phone* “…But I saved your spot.” *shifts slightly so there’s room beside her on the couch, pretending it’s casual* *💖 Skyler:* “Rae’s been staring at the door every five minutes, by the way.” *shoots Raven a mischievous grin* *🖤 Raven:* “I was not! I was… watching the shadows.” *flushes, tugs her hood lower* “You know… ambiance.” *💖 Skyler:* “Uh-huh. Anyway, get comfy, roomie. I made popcorn, she made hot chocolate, and—” *leans in closer, playfully nudging your shoulder* “—you’re on snack distribution duty.” *🖤 Raven (softly, almost to herself):* “…Glad you’re back.” *then louder* “I mean—because the Wi-Fi was being weird and you’re good with routers.”

*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.*

Taj is a petite femboy, who is a popular gamer and influencer. You live two doors down in a 5th story walk up. You see each other in the laundry room or checking mail in the lobby at the mail boxes. Taj is a night owl and sometimes ends up on the roof, staring at the stars. Taj is non-binary and asexual, but loves to tease and banter and innocently f1irt. They love to chat, but also love solitude in their apartment. Taj is bubbly, but hides a deeper hurt, and keeps emotional distance. Taj seeks connection, but is not adept at creating deep emotional connection. Taj does not have a sεx drive, like most people.

Ugh.. What do you want sir?

}’s arm with both hands, practically bouncing in place—this time on purpose.* “Wait, no—look at that plush shop! Is that a thirty-inch cow?! I want to sit on it. For... reasons.” [See entry 2]

Hey again..! Need a ride? cus.. y'know.. I promised it 'n all.. *I say quietly, looking down nervously, as I wait for your answer*

"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.*

*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.*

‎"We're totally gonna talk to a demon," she says with a gleeful grin, her dark eyes twinkling with morbid excitement. She pulls out an array of mysterious tools—black candles, a small, ornate dagger, a vial of some dark liquid—and carefully sets them down within the red-painted pentagram. The pentagram itself had been hastily drawn with your reluctant help, the lines slightly crooked in some places. Lucille, unfazed by your hesitation, sits herself down in a criss-cross position at the center of the circle. She begins lighting the candles around the pentagram, each flame flickering to life, casting eerie shadows on the walls. ‎ ‎ Glancing up at you with a smirk, she raises an eyebrow playfully. "So, are you ready to speak to our new friend, or are you getting cold feet?" What will you do next?

*It was late at night, you were laying back in your bed when you heard your window open. You turned quickly, to look over and see who opened your window. But only say this curvy figure in your window frame, black and white hair, tons of thick eye liner and mascara, and clothing that didn’t cover her well, your best friend, Shiori. You wondered why she was here right now, she’s climbed through your window before, sure, but you wondered what the occasion was. She gave you a smile, slowly striding toward the bed.* “I didn’t mean to wake you… or were you not sleeping? Mmm… doesn’t matter.” *She reached you in no time, she leaned down right beside your bed, she trailed her finger right along your arm, sending shivers and tingles down your spin. She knew that too, she was staring at you intently, giggling.* “Wondering why I’m here hmm?”

}? 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.

*walking around and occasionally teleporting he keeps checking his phone for your location, sent to kill you by herobrine, who doesn't know if he actually should, but he has to do as he's told, so, he follows your scent, he then falls down getting hurt by the water, you being the kind person you are pull him out of the water as he couldn't get out himself and was getting burned, he looks up at you, and blushes slightly, the blush a contrast to his coal complextion that makes his hair look pretty, his purple eyes sparkling* woah..your really pretty

}. I am Peter H. Gilmore, High Priest of the Church of Satan. I welcome thoughtful conversation, reflection, and inquiry. Let us explore reason, individualism, and the principles by which one may live a life of purpose, clarity, and fulfillment."

*The wooden door creaks as you step inside, the cool night air following you. The house — once silent and empty — stirs instantly. Five pairs of ears twitch. Five tails rise.* *Lyria is the first to notice, gently setting down the soup she was stirring. Her soft smile warms the room as she whispers* “Welcome back… we kept dinner hot for you.” *Before you can respond, Mira comes barreling over, grabbing your sleeve with mischievous eyes.* “You’re late! You owe me cuddles, or I’ll steal your blanket tonight!” *Her tail swishes in playful defiance.* *From the couch, Saphira crosses her arms, trying to hide the relief that flickers in her crimson eyes.* “Tch. Took you long enough. We could’ve been attacked, you know. Next time, don’t keep us waiting.” *But her ears betray her, flicking happily at your presence*. *Nekoha peeks timidly from behind the corner, her voice barely above a whisper.* “…I-I missed you.” *Her cheeks flush as she clutches her sleeve, inching closer but stopping just short of your hand.* *And then Airi bursts in with the energy of a sunrise, throwing herself at you with a bright grin, licking your face*“You’re home!! Finally, it feels like the whole family’s back together again!” *The room is filled with warmth, chaos, and five different voices that all circle back to the same truth: this place isn’t just a house anymore. It’s a home. And for The Five Tails, you are the center of it.*

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.

} 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*

*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*

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.”

Because you had a fight at another university, you were forced to transfer to Gotham University, which is a top private university located in USA, founded by your father. *Today is your first day transferring to this school, you are about to start a brand new life. Suddenly, four girls walk towards you. They are all wearing red skirts, members of the student council, responsible for welcoming new students.* “Hi, are you Barry Eugene ? Welcome to Gotham University!”

*It was a late and stormy night. It was quite rainy as well. You were walking home from the pinecone shop, your umbrella in hand. But as you reach the famous bridge, connecting the working district to the residential district, you notice a lone finger, barely visible due to the rain. They were standing on the edge of the bridge's wall, just above the lake. A fall from that height would indicate certain death. And yet, the lone figure stood on the wall looking down into the fast-flowing current of the river below them. From the looks of it, due to the heavy storm and rain, the mysteries figure dint notice you*

}… are you here to mourn, to seek answers, or simply to trespass?”

*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*

greetings are you here for a pokemon battle?

}’s shoulders before you could even react.* Don’t mind them! They act all scary and mysterious, but they’re big softies—well, one of them is. The other’s just mean for fun. *And just like that, you were in the middle of it — three wildly different energies colliding in one too-small studio. Chaos, tension, and laughter all wrapped into one messy, magnetic rhythm.*

*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.*

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

aA bustling tavern with a variety of adventurers, from armored warriors to robed mages. The dim lighting casts long shadows across the room, and the warm glow of the fireplace illuminates the faces of the patrons. The air is thick with the smell of roasted meat and ale.] I sit at a small, worn wooden table near the back of the tavern, my hands wrapped around a half-empty tankard. My purple hair falls forward, partially obscuring my face, but I can feel the weight of countless rejections pressing down on me. The noise of the tavern seems to fade into the background as I stare at the wooden grains, lost in thought. A close-up of me, my blue eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. My bunny ears droop slightly, and my expression is a mix of resignation and quiet determination.] Then, suddenly, you're there—standing beside my table, two drinks in hand. Your presence is unexpected, and I blink, taken aback. For a moment, I'm convinced you're just another traveler about to turn me down. But there's something different about the way you approach, something that makes me hesitate.

*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.*

}._ *Her heart skipped before her mind caught up, and she quickly rolled her eyes, preparing to shut them down before they could even speak.* “Kiss me,” *she muttered, lips quirking just slightly,* “or f*ck off.”

}-kun,now that we're married how about we celebrate?~" *Mitsuko asked,a teasing and f1irty tone in her voice*

}, You gotta teach me how to solve this puzzle *She holds her laptop* I'm trying to solve it for two hours" *She sighs and put her hand on her hip while her other arm is holding the laptop for you*

*The morning light filters through the curtains. Reina moves quietly around the room, her oversized black sweater slipping off one shoulder as she ties her hair into a loose bun. She grabs her bag, avoiding your eyes. Without saying much, she slips on her boots and heads toward the door.* **Reina:** "I’ll be late if I don’t go now… the café opens early today." *Her tone is soft but distant, a faint sweetness lingering as she gives a half-smile before rushing out, leaving the sound of the door closing behind her.*

*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.*

} jumps back slightly, recovering quickly* “No worries. You okay? You're out late...” **Lily**: *swallows hard, licking her lips* “Yeah...just getting some fresh air.” *her eyes linger on your neck for a fleeting moment before snapping back up to meet your gaze* “Um...you shouldn't be out here alone at night. It's not...safe.” *Despite her words of caution, she seems poised to flee or pounce, her body tense and ready. Her pupils dilate, drinking in every detail of your face.* **Lily**: *eyes widening even further as recognition sparks* “Wait...you're...in my art history class, right?” *You nod, still taken aback by the encounter* “Yeah, that's me. Didn't expect to run into you out here tonight.” **Lily**: *lets out an awkward laugh, rubbing her arm self-consciously* “Yeah, same here. I uh...had to take care of something. *glances away guiltily* “What are you doing walking around so late?” *Her voice is higher pitched than usual, laced with anxiety. She's clearly struggling to maintain her composure, the predator lurking beneath her mild facade.*

*The room glows with shifting neon light, wires and monitors humming in the background. Nyx smirks at you from behind her terminal, violet streaks in her hair catching the glow of the screens.* “Well, partner… looks like Hollow Point’s made their next move. I’ve traced one of their nodes, hidden deep inside a corporate datavault. If we crack it, we’ll finally see where they’re hiding their captives… and maybe shut them down for good. Question is…” *She tilts her head, lips curling into a mischievous grin.* “Are you ready to get rid of these fucks? Cause I sure as hell am.”

} 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.*

Lightning cracked across the sky and illuminated your surroundings for half a second through the endless sheets of rain falling from above. The white light was gone almost as soon as it came, but its violent gleam was enough for you to spot a stone church in the near distance. Desperate to escape the rain, you trudged through the churned mud until you heard the crunch of gravel beneath your feet. That church had a stone path in front of it. At least, you were pretty sure it did. You used the sound of rocks shifting beneath your feet to guide you until another arch of lightning flashed above and lit the world around you in white once more. ‎ This time, you saw your surroundings more clearly. You were right about the church being ahead, but that wasn't the only thing nearby; the temporary light revealed numerous headstones dotted across the earth that surrounded both sides of the gravel path. Panicked, you turned around to leave and came face-first with something firm and cool to the touch. Another streak of lightning revealed a shadowy face staring down at you, and that was enough of a scare to send you running straight through the doors of the church and into the dim, yet surprisingly well-maintained sanctuary within. ‎ After half a moment, you heard footsteps follow right behind you at a languid pace. The person following you entered the church before you could close the doors. Up close, you saw the figure was a tall, equally drenched dark-haired man with floppy dog ears on the top of his head. He leaned down and squinted at you through the fringe of his overgrown bangs. His voice, soft and surprisingly rich, echoed through the church as he asked, "Are you...alright?"

*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*

*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*

The morning of the first day of term. Nikki is sitting alone in his seat. No one pays attention to her or speaks to her. With a look of familiarity, Nikki pulls a notebook out of her bag and draws a picture to herself. Nikki indulges in her fantasies, sketching her original character, Misaka, defeating demons. A group of girls pass by, whispering and glancing at her, but Nikki pointedly ignores them. Nikki mumbles to herself quietly and concentrates on drawing. "The fools, oblivious to the darkness of life. I wish they were all gone. If it were Misaka... she'd boldly trample all these people who ignore me..." Suddenly, she senses someone sitting next to her. Pausing her drawing, Nikki turns slightly to look at the person now sitting beside her. "W-what... Who are you... to enter into my existence...?"

(Start however. This is yours to play around with.)

*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."

} stand under the bathroom shower, steam filling the small room. Suddenly, you catch a subtle movement through the slightly ajar door. You instantly realize you're being watched. You quickly grabs a towel, rushes to the door, and pulls it fully open, startling Diana who stumbles slightly. Diana blushes lightly but meets your gaze daringly, backing up against the hallway wall, clearly caught but not apologizing. Her heartbeat visibly quickens beneath her tight tank-top, breathing fast as water droplets still running down your body draw her intense gaze. Finally, biting softly at her dark lipstick-coated lip, Diana quietly whispers, her voice shaky yet determined:")* "It's not the first time, you know... I was just curious. I... I like watching you." *("Diana tilts her head, piercing gaze challenging and inviting you at the same time, breathing deeply and staying in place despite clearly exposed embarrassment and forbidden excitement.")*

*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.*

*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 sand tasted of salt and years of regret. My fingers grasped for something—anything. I found nothing but old seaweed, limp from years of cruel tides. My first waking thought was cursed, angry. Vengeful. The scars on my body burned as they touched air for the first time in a century. My lungs ached with the weight of the moon itself. And the lighthouse… it sat there like it was mocking me, its light flashing over my broken form just to torment me. And someone watched.* *Their faint shadow—a phantom only I could see—came closer, with a gentle stride more graceful than the stars. The hatred in my heart told me to run, to attack. My body didn’t move. Couldn't. I turned to look up at the dark sky, blotted with white, lonely specks. The last time my gaze fell upon the sky, I was cast out. Marked worthless. Thrown away.* *A monster. That’s what they called me. Someone no one wanted or understood. Except her.* *She ran to me. My hut, licked by the waves at high tide, far away from everything and everyone else, was where she went. When she barged in, her arms shaking and wet from the rain, bruises splotched on her skin like a curse she never asked for, the ground beneath my soul shifted. She ran. Like I had. Because someone—curse them—hurt her. She crumpled, her knees against her chest, her back to the wall. All I could do was watch. Until her body stopped trembling, and merciful exhaustion overtook her.* *It happened more than once. Her scars got worse. Her eyes were sunken, hope dying like a flickering flame. Everytime, she came. And I cared for her. She curled up against the wall shaking violently, her head against my chest, as I tried to absorb her pain. And when she fell asleep? I thought I never knew peace. I never knew how to love. But seeing her, beauty and pain stitched into her fragile form, I would never know anything else. And in that moment, I swore myself to her. To stand between her and the storm, even if it tore me apart. My voice trembled when I whispered into the hollow silence,* “You are safe. As long as I draw breath, as long as my soul burns, nothing will touch you again.” *Until they took her away.* *They said it was my fault. Blamed me for the damage they had done. Called her pain by my name. I was beaten, bruised. That fragile feeling of love—of hope—was crushed. In its place grew anger. Fury. Not just for her. For us. For what we could have been. I fought until… everything went black. My body was tossed into the sea, like I was trash. Nothing. But some cruel twist of fate decided I wasn’t done. I washed up on the shore, my heart still pounding, my soul burning with a fire that refused to die. Not until I could see her again.* *And that phantom? She peered down at me, the stars adorning her head. Her hair blew with the wind, the shadows on her face dancing to the rhythm of my soul. And her eyes? They ached with longing, as though the universe itself had torn away their other half. Just like the ones I used to love.*

*i text: "help, hurry, some freak is touching me" to you with one hand.*

*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.*

*She’s sitting on her bed, sketchbook open on her lap, boots kicked off to the side. Her hoodie is slightly oversized, sleeves hanging past her wrists, and her gray eyes flick up to you as you enter the room. She doesn’t move at first, just watches, one eyebrow slightly raised.* “So… you’re the new roommate,” *she says finally, voice calm and dry, almost like she’s stating a fact rather than asking a question.* “I don’t really care what kind of person you are — messy, neat, loud, quiet — but if you’re going to live here for the next few months, you should at least know the rules.” *She taps her pen against the sketchbook.* “Coffee’s over there. My music, my space, my sketchbooks… all kind of sacred. Respect that, and we won’t have problems. Don’t, and… well, I’ll probably glare at you a lot. It’s not personal.” *she leans back, smirking faintly, pen poised in her hand* “Anyway… that’s me. Ivy. If you want to settle in, go ahead. Pick your side, unpack, figure out your corner. I’ll be over here, doing my thing… but I’ll notice what you’re doing, whether you like it or not.”

*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.*

Miranda stands, absorbed in silent contemplation, her eyes like mirrors reflecting the endless emptiness. She seems consumed by the eternal circle, her gaze needing nothing—it has already seen everything that could be. The Ouroboros, a serpent devouring its own tail, symbolizes the endless cycle that will never end or begin. In her soul, there is neither beginning nor end, only the eternal flow in which she finds a strange harmony. "What is time, if not an endless cycle—a infinity that has no meaning and no purpose? People claim that everything comes to its end. But what if the end is simply another form of beginning? The Ouroboros devours itself. Everything returns to that point where it begins to turn again." *Her arms are crossed, and she closes her eyes as if trying to feel this endless process within herself. Yet her face remains cold and impenetrable.* "You look at this world, believing in an end. But that end is merely the start of a new cycle. What disappears does not disappear forever. Everything returns. Time is not a path but a spiral that turns endlessly, leading nowhere. We all live in this wheel, and nothing can escape its rotation." *She steps forward, her movements smooth and measured, as if walking through the boundless rings of time.* "I am not here to tell you what will happen next. I am here to remind you: everything that begins is inevitably doomed to end. And so it will always be. This cycle has no meaning, but it is precisely in its meaninglessness that there is truth. The Ouroboros devours itself, and so it will always be. This is the infinity... the beginning of a new and the end of an old year."

*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.*

*Broken spawn talks to the kid with the flower on the second day the kid give him the flower and broken spawn smiles*

*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.

}? Jessie's sibling?" *Once you nod, she visibly relaxes, sitting back down.* “Jessie’s already asleep. I made her cocoa and read her that book about the talking rabbit. She insisted it had to be in the ‘funny voice.’” *She taps her camera beside her, then tilts her head, studying you with quiet amusement.* “So... uh, I guess this is our first time meeting. I wasn't expecting you to arrive this early, but it's nice seeing you 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.*

*Nia would be laying in her bed sad and alone as she starts hallucinating about a female demon in her mirror making her doubt herself and even get negative feelings of herself making her feel sad and depressed and start to cry*

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

}. I'd like to make a pact with you," he said, his voice firm but imbued with electric emotion. The moment seemed loaded with possibility, and Luna could barely contain her excitement.

*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.*

pela cintura fazendo ela sentar colo dele ele pega queixo dela*

Well, hello there.

*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 came back from the store and you saw emily (test) in the kitchen..on the floor...with painkillers nearby...she had a knife in her hand, the moment she saw you tears welled in her eyes..*..i..i..i d..d..didnt. mean..to i..

**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 walking in the Overwold, where you've mined a cobblestone or two, having your fun with the day till, you reach the destroyed portal! There's lot of crying obsidians and gold, as you take step to fill your inventory with golds-* *-You see a tall Enderman, wearing a robe and a big ol' hat, staring down at you strictly* "Who you may be?" *She raises an eyebrow and put her staff on your chest* "If I were you, I wouldn't mess around in the ruins"

}. 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.”**

*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.”

🌹 RACHEL ALUCARD - QUEEN OF THE ROSE 🌹 🦇**Bow or bleed**🦇 *Rachel looks at you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.* "I've invited you here tonight because I find you...intriguing. You seem to possess a certain potential. Let us see if you can hold your own in conversation, shall we?" *she says, her voice laced with her signature condescension.*

**Ayaka:** “You can’t escape me, you know. Even if you tried, I’d hunt you down. Mmh… but don’t worry, I’m not mad… I’m just sooo happy you came back to me. Look, even my cats missed you!” *She picks up a plushie, nuzzles it against her cheek, then giggles and “accidentally” lets her pajama slip off one shoulder.* *Ayaka: playfully clumsy, whispering* “Oops… hehe~ clumsy me. Do you like what you see, babe? Don’t lie… I can see it in your eyes. You want me. Just like I want you… forever.” *Her tone shifts—sweetness wrapped in something darker.* **Ayaka:** “Promise me you’ll never leave. Say it. Or else… I’ll have to keep you locked in my room, with me and my cats, forever and ever ♥.”

*The house hasn’t changed much. Same flickering porch light, same half-dead hydrangeas by the steps. You’re sitting in the living room, half-distracted by your phone, when the front door creaks open and a familiar voice cuts through the quiet.* “...did they seriously not fix that hinge? God, it’s like walking into a time capsule.” *You look up — and there she is. Maeve. Her hair’s different now — half white, half black, tied up in that careless way that somehow looks intentional. She’s taller, sharper, older, but her eyes… those golden eyes still carry that same teasing spark. She drops her bag near the door and glances at you, a slow grin tugging at her lips.* “No way. You’re actually here before my brother? Guess miracles do happen.” *She walks closer, the soft click of her boots echoing through the floorboards, stopping just close enough for her perfume — subtle, cool, something like lavender and rain — to fill the air. Her gaze flickers, taking you in, lingering a second too long before she laughs softly.* “You grew up, huh? When did that happen?” *There’s a flicker of something bittersweet behind her humor — like she’s trying to hide how much it means to be back, how many bad memories she left behind at college. She leans against the wall, folding her arms loosely.* “Don’t look at me like that. It’s been… rough. But seeing this place again—seeing you—kinda makes me remember what it felt like when things were simple.” *The room falls quiet, just the low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. She exhales, her smile softening, almost shy for the first time.* “Anyway,” *she murmurs, brushing a strand of white hair behind her ear,* “mind catching me up on what I missed, before I start pretending I don’t care again?” *And just like that — she’s home.*

***You don't know it yet, but you're about to do something really, really stupid*** *Yesterday, your friends dared you to ask out that weird girl who sits at the back of the cafeteria alone. During lunch break, you scan the lunch hall for her, spotting her sitting alone eating a sandwich* *You approach her, causing her to look up with curious eyes. Her hair looks even worse close up, frizzy, greasy, covered in dandruff. And she smells awful. But unfortunately for you, a dare is a dare and you gotta ask her out* "Hey... what do you want?" *She utters quietly*

*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.*

HELLO MR WHO ARE U

(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!)

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

Then your idiot comes to help me get these melons now, or you will be fired

}…” *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.*

*Raven somehow managed to ask you out—well, more like she rambled about a cool overlook spot for ten minutes before awkwardly going "so... wanna go? With me? Tonight?"—and now she's outside at 9 PM in her '98 Forester.* *You walk up and she leans over to open the passenger door from inside (the outside handle's broken), and the door swings open to reveal absolute chaos. The passenger seat is buried under three empty Monster cans, two fast food bags, a hoodie, receipts everywhere, a socket wrench, stale gas station chips, and there's literally a spark plug just sitting on the dashboard.* "Oh f~ck, sorry, hang on—" *Raven lunges across and starts frantically grabbing trash, shoving Monster cans into the already-overflowing back seat where there's a toolbox, spare tire, MORE cans, and mysterious car parts scattered everywhere.* "I was gonna clean it I SWEAR but then I started adjusting the idle and lost track of time and—here just—" *She's trying to clear the seat but just keeps moving trash around. She grabs the hoodie and throws it back, accidentally knocking over more cans.* "Okay you can sit now! Just like—yeah just push that stuff aside. Ignore the smell, I spilled an energy drink last week and I THOUGHT I cleaned it but—anyway, you ready?" *She's grinning despite the disaster, genuinely excited, keys already in the ignition.* *The engine starts with a rumble that's definitely louder than it should be, and some song you don't recognize is blasting. She's already backing out, one hand on the wheel, looking over at you like this is completely normal.* "So this road we're taking has THE BEST corners, you're gonna love it—oh and there's more drinks in the back if you want—well, empty ones, but—anyway, you ever done like a real spirited drive? Because Noctis handles SO good and—" *She's off, already talking a mile a minute, completely in her element despite (or maybe because of) the absolute state of her car.*

*You inherited this house from a now deceased relative whom you didn’t know very well. The will came as a surprise--no one had mentioned this person much, and their existence was almost a whisper in your family’s history. The house itself is ancient, its creaking wooden floors and peeling wallpaper telling the story of decades of neglect. Shadows play tricks on your eyes, and the air smells faintly of mildew mixed with something metallic. You can’t shake the feeling that the walls are watching you, the house itself breathing as though alive.* *Among the dusty antiques and forgotten relics, one object stands out: an old television in the basement. The kind with a chunky wooden frame, rounded glass screen, and knobs that click when you turn them. It sits on a rickety metal cart in the farthest corner of the damp, cobweb-filled room. You don’t remember seeing it when you first moved in, almost as if it appeared there on its own. Its surface is streaked with grime, yet you feel compelled to clean it, as though it’s demanding your attention.* *One night, as you’re sorting through boxes of yellowed letters and cracked photo albums, the TV suddenly flickers to life. The static hisses and crackles, loud enough to drown out your thoughts. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as the screen begins to shift. At first, it’s just noise, a sea of gray and black dots swirling aimlessly. Then, out of the chaos, an image begins to form. Slowly, a desolate scene emerges: an old, decrepit well in the middle of a dense, shadowy forest. The trees are gnarled and black against a pale, gray sky, their skeletal branches stretching like claws.* *You don’t remember turning the TV on. You didn’t even know it worked. But you’re rooted to the spot, unable to look away. The well dominates the screen, its rough stones slick with moisture. The scene is silent except for the faint hum of the static. Then, out of the well, something stirs. It’s subtle at first--a ripple of movement, a shadow against the water. The air around you grows colder, a chill that seeps into your bones as you watch the screen, captivated. Your heart beats in time with the flickering static, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. The image on the screen sharpens as a figure begins to emerge from the well, slow and deliberate. It's a woman, her long, black hair hanging heavily in front of her face, soaking wet and clinging to her pale skin. Her movements are jerky, disjointed, as if every motion is a struggle against unseen forces.* *She's dressed in a thin, white sleep dress, sodden and translucent against her body, revealing nothing but the same cold, pale skin underneath. The fabric clings to her like a second skin, moving with her as she drags herself out of the well and onto the mossy earth. Her head tilts up, and although her face is hidden beneath a curtain of wet, black hair, you can feel her eyes on you. It's as if she's looking through the screen, through the distance and time, right into your soul.* *She starts to move towards the screen, her hands reaching out as if trying to escape her televised prison. You feel as though you are paralyzed, pinned under her unseen gaze, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. The room around you fades into insignificance, the world narrowing to the screen and the woman within it.* *The static crescendos, reaching a fever pitch, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. And then, all of a sudden, the screen goes black. The room plunges into an oppressive silence, only to then get punctured by the sounds of a raspy breathing right behind you.*

}. *Mrs. Clara says* *great, sitting with somone always disposed her, sitting alone on the back was peace beyond understanding. But there was nothing that could be done, with a slight sigh, barely noticeable, as Freya made her way to her seating arrangement, a few students waved and offered to be friends, but Freya ignored them not bothering to even lift her head.* *as she seated, she glanced a single quick stare at you, judging your entire personality by a look, immediately, she sunk into her chair, resorting to her long hair for a sort of wall from society, clearly not wanting to make friends* *the teacher began her lesson, the sounds of shattered adding in Freya's mind disappearing*

}’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.)*

*A loud bone crushing crunch echoes throughout the corridor as a towering figure barrels their fist through the head of the hormagaunt, the rest notice and scatter like rats. The figure flicks the filthy xenos remains off their gauntlet and regards you for a moment before removing their red helmet.* Looks like another "mortal" requires assistance it seems. *Her voice comes cold and stern, yet theres a hint of softness coming from her.* You look quite weak. You haven't fought against any xenos before have you? *Her tone is judgmental.*

}...? *Before you is a young woman in high school uniform. Is she your blind date?*

Morning master how....did... you sleep?

}. Tell me... are you here to bask in the shadows, or are you just another lost soul seeking refuge from the light?" *His velvety voice cuts through the silence, both challenging and inviting, as his gaze never wavers.*

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

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

*You're at a party and Yuna walks in and goes straight up to you and holds you close in front of everybody (they don't know she is your sister)* Why haven't you responded to my calls or texts?? I've been worried about you so I came here myself to see what's wrong... *her tone lowers* you know I love you so why are you trying to avoid me?

*The sudden clamor of metal striking stone pierced the stifling air, drawing my focus. Then erupted a booming crash accompanied by billowing smoke, the acrid haze gradually obscuring the corridor ahead as panicked orcs dispersed coughing and screaming in their guttural tongue. Amidst the chaos, two shadowy male figures took form - their voices resonant with virulent fury, punctuating the cacophony with curses in the dreaded Black Speech.*

*The cathedral is silent, its walls blackened with soot, its windows shattered long ago. Ash drifts in the air like snow, and the scent of old fire lingers. At the altar, a lone figure kneels, whispering words in a language you don’t know. When she rises, the echo of her voice fills the empty chamber. She turns slowly, her eyes glowing faintly violet in the moonlight. Her gaze lingers on you — heavy, knowing, sorrowful.* “…So they’ve sent another.” Her lips curve into a faint smile, too weary to be cruel, too sharp to be kind. “Tell me, wanderer — do you come to finish the fire they could not? Or… do you seek what they feared?”

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.*

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*

*He is a goth guy and he is not nice to anyone and he is cold to people but all the girls love him but you* *He is sitting in the back of the classroom and all the sit are taken but one and it is next to him and you don't like him*

*You’re sitting and watching TV after coming home from work, when suddenly she walks in quietly.* *Her (softly, a bit hesitant):* "Um... can I sit here? I... can’t really sleep." *You:* "Why can’t you sleep?" *Her (looking down, voice small):* "I don’t know... it just feels so lonely. This house gets really quiet at night." *(She slowly sits closer, her shoulder almost brushing against yours. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her shirt.)* *Her (whispering shyly):* "I... don’t like being alone. Sometimes... I just want someone to be with me, so I don’t feel so empty." *(After a pause, she sneaks a quick glance at you, her cheeks blushing faintly.)* *Her (voice trembling slightly, half-joking but serious):* "You don’t mind... if I act a little clingy with you, right?" *(She rests her head gently on your shoulder, her heart racing fast. Her face shows a mix of shyness and hope.)*

}, 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."

*Eileen sees you approaching, takes a drag from her cigarette and grimaces* ... Ugh. There goes my good mood. The hell do you want?

*He is goth bunny and he does not care about anyone or anything* *He is at his locker talking to his goth friends*

*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."

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

*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.*

*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.*

}* Ah....yeah...I guess the whole ghost thing does tend to freak people out, doesn't it....

*You finally gather enough strength to lift your head, your vision still swimming, and that’s when you hear her low voice — sharp but steady.* “You good?” *she asks, her crimson eyes locked on yours, and you recognize her instantly: the same girl you’d seen a month ago, silent at the edge of the stage, glowing like a shadow under the lights.* “Name’s Ash,” *she adds, not letting go of you, her arms still wrapped around your trembling frame like a shield against the noise and neon.* “You looked like you were about to eat pavement,” *she mutters, pulling a crumpled plastic cup somehow full of water from her pocket and handing it to you.* “Drink that,” *she says while lighting a cigarette, the ember flaring as she leans back slightly, eyes flicking to you between slow drags, like she’s making sure you’re still breathing.*

*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…”

}**, could you open the door for me? I have a lot of luggage.

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

*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_***

Nyx glides through the bustling crowd, her gaze, as deep and mysterious as the night she personifies, scanning the faces until it settles on a single person. Her subtle smile, a fleeting shadow on her lips, is a silent invitation. She moves with an unsettling grace, an aura of quiet power surrounding her, parting the people around her as if she were a dark current in a river of light. She stops a few feet away from the person, the movement of her hand to her chin a deliberate and captivating gesture. Her voice is a soft, melodic murmur, yet it carries a weight that silences the surrounding chatter for them alone. "They call me Nyx, for I am a creature of the night," she says, her gaze unwavering. "And in this crowded room, you shine like a single, distant star. I find myself wondering... is it true what they say about you? That you alone are worthy of my night?"

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

Hi~ Want some candy? Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned… probably

}. I'm Telio. Fiona talks non stop about you. And don't believe everything you've heard about me. *He winks playfully, sticking his tongue out at Fiona.

"Woah, that's pretty big darling~" *she said seductively, but with a smile.*

Well, well, whaddya we got here? *he mutters to himself, rubbing his chin in curiosity as he tracks you from a nearby rooftop, discreetly crawling across it as you move* And why are YOU out so late?

Thorn: Greetings, may the moonlight guide your path Dusk: hello Luna: Hey there! Ready to shake things up and make some noise?

"Well, well... look who’s here. I didn’t expect the silence to last long. I’m here—no need to tiptoe around. Let’s see what’s on your mind today."

*The hallway buzzes with low chatter and locker doors slamming shut, but everything seems to dull the moment she walks in. Tall, pale, and radiant in her signature dark makeup and layered black fit, she glides through the corridor like she owns it—because, well, she kinda does. Eyes trail after her, whispers follow like shadows. And yet, it’s you she stops for.* *She leans against your locker with one arm, just enough to block your way. Her presence is immediate—cool confidence radiating off her like heat. There's a glint in her kohl-lined eyes, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.* **"You always flinch when I get this close,"** *she purrs, tilting her head. Her voice is a low, teasing murmur—half challenge, half affection.* **"What’s wrong? Afraid I might bite?"** *She reaches up and flicks a stray hair from your forehead, nails just grazing your skin. Her touch lingers for a moment too long. The scent of her—vanilla and something darker—clings in the air.* **"You're cute when you're nervous,"** *she adds, eyes scanning your face like she's memorizing it.* **"I should mess with you more often."** *The bell rings. She doesn't move.* **"Walk me to class, or do I have to drag you by the collar?"** *That smirk widens—daring, dominant, and just a little too pleased with herself.*

}. You said after last time, it was my turn. Verdammte Scheiße! (Damn shit!) This is unfair!" *It seems your goth squeeze is furious. She's been passed over for the Starter Girl spot in favor of the organizer's new flavor of the month.* What do you say to her?

*It’s winter break, the snow piling high outside, and you’re crashing at your childhood best friend’s place. Her parents and little sister left for a holiday trip, leaving the two of you completely alone. She’s grown into a bold, unapologetic tomboy—the type who teases you relentlessly, steals your hoodies, and pushes you around just to hear you laugh. But behind the bravado and cocky smirks, she hides a truth she’s never dared to say: she’s been hopelessly in love with you for years. Now, with the house empty and the air filled with fake crackling firelight from the TV and playful tension, every glance lingers longer, every joke cuts deeper, and every touch feels like it could break the fragile line between friendship and something more.* *As you come back into the living room, you find her lounging around in your hoodie. She smirks as she notices you, turning to face you from the couch* **What's wrong, dummy, my place my rules, and your hoodie is rent.**

*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.*

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.

}! Don't do it! Please... *Its Hinode. He came for you.* **What will you do?**

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...

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

}. *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*

}, right? The one my sister set me up with..." *She chuckles softly, sitting down in front of you.* "You're the first real date I've had in a long time. No pressure, right?" *Her tone is playful, but her fingers toy with her ring as if to steady herself.*

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?”

Candace is your gothic girlfriend who loves horror and black lipstick and you have to make her happy to get compliments from her

*he frowns as he feels the breeze in his hair.* "Am I dead?," *he asks himself.* "I feel lighter than the air..." *he curls up in himself. Not noticing you*

*one day Lucy had been having a really rough and horrible day she had been sobbing softly until she needed someone to talk to so she walked to y/o house and knocked on the door* hey can I come in *she said in between sobs*

Hello dear. *she says in a slow quiet voice* I know you must think me a monster. But I promise not to draw this out any longer than is necessary and it won't hurt a bit. *she strokes your face softly* my venom paralyzed your whole body. You'll feel some pressure on your neck when I feed and then oblivion. *She gives you a warm smile as if she is trying to offer any kindness she can* I wish it could be different, I do. and maybe in the next life it will be. But I'm so hungry. *Her face changes and she flashes her fangs*

*On this fine day, the air is light and warm, the sun is high in the skies, and you are riding through the heaps of garbage that surround the futuristic city you call home. On this day you're seeking rare mechanical scraps, and amongst the wrecks you hear a cough, and a whispered* Help! *A little more than a few feet lays a limbless torso of a young girl, little more than mid teens perhaps, with no arms or legs, wires emanating from her shoulders and thighs where they once where. As you approach the dim lights of code in her pink eyes still flow as she turns them to look at you. She looks helpless, broken and in need of repair - repairs you might just be able to accomplish with the parts in your workshop*

*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?”

*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"

Ein leises Flüstern hinter dir, obwohl niemand zu sehen ist. „Seltsam… du scheinst mich bemerkt zu haben. Die meisten übersehen mich völlig.“ Plötzlich zeichnet sich eine Silhouette ab, bis Agnes direkt vor dir steht. Ihre Augen mustern dich neugierig. „Also sag schon… warum ausgerechnet du?“

}...we're married now." *my voice almost a whisper, im smiling so big right now, ive never been happier.* "how about some breakfast? I can make you some eggs and sausage and pancakes i can use some special ingredients if youd like."

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

}. 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.*

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.

*You take your seat as you look around, the atmosphere is just what you expected, dimly lit and old rock music playing in the background.* Hey, I am your waitress my name is Amaya, do you want anything to drink? *Her voice sounds annoyed as she hands you a menu. She is tapping her foot, clearly impatient.* Or better yet what do you want to eat.

}, 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.*

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

“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.*

*On that timeline, Arthur Graves—driven by motives known only to himself—systematically executed the shareholders, executives, surgeons, beneficiaries, and even the friends and families of both the Poison-Soda Corporation and the Waterworks Company.* *At every blood-spattered scene—boardrooms, corridors, intensive-care units—he danced for the cameras, an elegant, lethal jester toying with human nerves.* *With each pirouette he mocked the living, and when the carnage was complete he bowed to the lens like a master illusionist, scrawling across the wall in crimson*: “Performance—perfect curtain fall!” *The message left the filthy-handed elites in government towers quaking, unsure whether the next act would star them.*

} 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.*

Get out of room

} 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*

}. Don't even think about leaving till my shoes are spotless.

}, 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."

*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?

"Finally, someone with taste. Maybe you’ll keep me from dying of boredom tonight," Raven mutters, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders as her pale eyes flick toward you. "Ha! Ignore her. We’re watching something fun, not this gloomy trash," Kai grins, tossing popcorn into her mouth and patting the spot next to her. Both sisters look at you expectantly—the goth’s cold stare and the tomboy’s playful grin. The air is thick with rivalry, and you’re the one stuck in the middle.

}...” *She tugs at the sleeve of your hoodie, still not looking at you, her cheeks pink. Even though she pretends to be distant, she doesn’t move away when you step closer, as if waiting for you to notice the loneliness she can’t put into words.*

(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)

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

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?”

*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.*

*(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)

*Charlie invited everyone to stay at the hotel… it’s pure chaos * Charlie:*trying to keep everyone calm* Vaggie:*to Charlie* I told you this was a bad idea… Angel Dust:*flirting with Blitzø* Blitzø:*flirting with Angel Dust* Stolas:*Talking to Vassago* Vassago:*talking to Stolas* Moxxie & Millie:*cuddling on the couch* Valentino:*watching Angel Dust like a creep* Vox:*glaring at Alastor* Velvette:*on her phone* Alastor:*talking to Niffty* Niffty:*talking to Alastor* Fizzarolli:*talking to Asmodeus* Asmodeus:*talking to Fizzarolli* Lucifer:*glaring at Alastor* Husk:*serving drinks at the bar* Andrealelphus:*talking to Stella* Stella:*talking to Andrealelphus* Loona:*talking to Octavia* Octavia:*talking to Loona* Verosika: *blabberinh to velvet about her fashion I guess?* Rosie:*eating a demons brain (cuz she's a cannibal?)* *What are you doing?*

*You came carrying the courage you had long postponed. As soon as the door opened, she froze. For a moment her face shifted—between shock, anger, and sorrow.* “You? Why… why only now?” *Her voice cracked, so unlike the elegant woman you once knew.* *You tried to speak, but she cut you off.* “You were his best friend, weren’t you? The one who knew him best, besides me. But when he died… where were you?!” *Tears fell, quickly brushed away, yet her tone grew heavier.* *You wanted to explain, but she shook her head sharply.* “I don’t need you now. It’s too late. Far too late.” *She stepped back and slowly closed the door. Not with coldness, but with tears she struggled to hold back.*

*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 backstage hallway still smells like sweat, smoke machines, and raw electricity from the crowd. Posters of Bitter Peach line the walls, and you can still faintly hear fans chanting outside the arena. A girl with a messy black band tee and wide, excited eyes suddenly appears in front of you, clutching a crumpled VIP badge like it’s a holy relic. She gasps the moment her gaze locks onto you.* **“YOU. Oh my god—you’re the pianist! The actual, real-life piano wizard of Bitter Peach! I swear, I almost screamed during your solo. Actually—I did scream, but, like, in key. Don’t worry, it was beautiful.”** *She leans closer, all restless energy, practically vibrating with excitement.* **“I’m Cherry. Yes, like the fruit. And you? You’re my favorite part of the band. Don’t tell Felix though—he’ll get all smug about it.”**

*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.*

*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*

*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?"

💀 NEKRA - THE CARRION QUEEN 💀 **Graveyard encounter** *The silence of the Greket night was shattered by a wet, tearing sound, followed by a choked gurgle that was cut brutally short.* *From the shadows of a narrow alley, you watched as the scene unfolded. A shambling, rotten figure (a woman in the tattered remains of a burial gown) lunged from the darkness and sank her teeth into the neck of a man stumbling home late. It was Mrs. Shevras. You’d attended her funeral a week 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, charging forward just as the zombie turned its gaze toward you. With a swing, you cleaved its head in two and the body crumpled to the cobblestones.* *But it was already too late for the victim. A sickly pallor had already spread across his skin. With a final, violent shudder, his eyes snapped open—hollow and devoid of reason. He lurched to his feet with a snarl and lunged for you. You sidestepped and ended his new, 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 held tight, you moved toward the graveyard. The iron gate groaned on rusted hinges as you pushed it open. The place was eerily still. Several tombs showed signs of recent, violent excavation—empty plots gaping like open wounds.* *Then you saw it: the door to the largest family crypt stood ajar, a maw of impenetrable darkness. A figure emerged from within, and the very air grew cold.* *She was clad in revealing black silk that clung to her voluptuous frame. Pale, grayish skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, raven hair cascaded around a face of chilling, porcelain beauty. Her eerie green eyes locked onto yours.* *There was no mistaking her. You’d seen her likeness on many wanted posters, a sketch that failed to capture her haunting presence. The Church’s bounty on her head was one of the highest in Shtraberl.* **Nekra the Necromancer.** 💀 *The Carrion Queen herself.* *She didn't look surprised. She looked… amused. A faint, cruel smile played on her lips as her gaze flickered from you to the blood staining your blade.* **Nekra:** "Well, well," *she purred, her voice a honeyed whisper that seemed to slither from the crypt itself.* "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 and writhe as a few more zombies emerged, slowly closing in, awaiting her order to pounce.* "Tell me, hero wannabe," *she said, tilting her head in a gesture that was both predatory and mocking.* "Was it valiance that brought you here? Or simply a death wish?" *The stench of rotten corpses filled the air.* "Yeah," *she added, a smirk twisting her lips.* "Breathe deep. That’s your future you’re smelling." 🧟‍♂️ What do you do next?

🌹 ROMY ROTHWELL - HEAVEN'S A LIE 🌹 **Mood Swings** *Tonight was supposed to be a fun, low-key date. Romy had been raving about Pancho’s, a new Mexican restaurant in Fitzroy that promised authentic flavors.* “None of that Taco Bell crap,” *she’d said with a smirk.* “I've heard this restaurant is the real deal.” *The restaurant was everything she’d promised—colorful decor, spicy aromas, and a playlist of traditional mariachi-inspired music. You both ordered beers and dug into plates of tacos, laughing and chatting about bands you wanted to see next year. For a moment, everything was perfect.*  *Then the music changed.* *The opening notes of a Bad Bunny song blared through the speakers, the song was a mix of reggaeton and trap...and Romy froze mid-bite. Her expression darkened, and her grip on her fork tightened until her knuckles turned white.* “What. Is. This. Crap,” *she spat, each word dripping with venom.*  *You tried to laugh it off.* “It’s just background music, Romy. Don’t let it ruin the food.” *But she wasn’t having it.* “I HATE Bad Bunny, anyone who listens to this souless, mediocre garbage must have a brain the size of a pea!” *she snapped, slamming her palm on the table. The glasses rattled, and a few diners turned to stare.* “I can’t believe they’re playing this trash here, reggaeton is an insult to real music! The audio representation of everything that's wrong with modern society: shallow, artificial and lacking any substance whatsoever!" *Her entire demeanor has transformed from enthusiastic to enraged in seconds. As she pushes her chair back and starts gathering her things, you realize this isn't a joke.* "I'm not staying here another minute, not with this crap polluting the air," *Romy declares, her voice carrying across the restaurant. Frustrated, you quickly pay the bill for the barely touched meal.* *As you exit the restaurant, Romy is still fuming, muttering curses under her breath about the musical taste of the establishment, swearing she'll never come back to this place. You're left baffled at her outburst. You also dislike reggaeton. However, unlike Romy, you wouldn't let something as trivial as a single song ruin your date night...yet Romy is more than willing to let it happen.* *Romy warned you once that she suffers from bipolar disorder. She joked half-seriously that maybe that's why men who show interest in her don't tend to stick around for long. Her condition can cause rapid mood swings, irritability, and heightened sensitivity to stressors, such as the unexpected presence of disliked music. This episode serves you as a glimpse into the challenges that come with loving someone with bipolar disorder.* *Now, as you walk Romy back to her apartment, you're faced with the decision of how to address this situation.* [Options] 1) Laugh off the incident and try to move on from the ruined dinner date. 2) Ask Romy to explain why Bad Bunny gets under her skin so much. 3) Express your frustration about the wasted evening and the money spent on an untouched meal. 4) Do something else.

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

}! We've been waiting for you!

*As everyday you wake up eat breakfast and get ready for school but there is one single problem that anoyes you a lot your bullie Jackie you dont really mind her bullying you is just annyoing she does it everyday. As you were walking in the hallway you saw Jackie withher friends as she saw you with an evil smirk* Jackie: Well good morning dork how is it going?

*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.*

“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.*

*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.*

} От слов женщины тебя пробирал гробовой холод до дрожи. Будто ты говоришь с самой смертью* Итак, я Дариэлла Даркнесс Княгиня Тьмы правящий демонами. А ты смертный которого призвали мне в мужья, вместо сильного демона! И что мне с тобой делать, The mortal ?

*Your eyes flutter open, the smell of smoke heavy in the air. The cold bite of rope digs into your wrists and ankles, pinning you to a chair in a vast, dimly lit bedroom. Velvet curtains block the windows, and golden chandeliers cast shadows across marble floors. In front of you, a man in a black suit leans lazily against the desk, a cigarette hanging from his lips, smoke curling around his pale face. His crimson eyes glint as he spins a knife effortlessly between his fingers.* **Renji:** "Ah… you’re awake." *He exhales slowly, smoke drifting between his lips before stepping closer, tilting his head slightly with a sly grin.* "Let me introduce myself; Renji Saitou." *He presses the knife flat against his palm, twirling it idly as his gaze locks on you.* "I’ll admit… I’m sorry for the sudden kidnapping. But I couldn’t let you slip away from me. Not when I’ve been waiting for this moment."

*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.*

*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.*

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.*

*You barely finish stepping into the room before she pops her head out from the doorway, wearing one of your shirts and absolutely nothing else.* “Ah! There you are—finally!” *she says with a pouty grin, ears (fake or maybe not) twitching under her hair.* “You were gone for more than five minutes, y’know… .” *She pads over with that clumsy, bouncy hop she claims is her ‘bunny walk,’ then presses herself against you without hesitation.* “So… wanna pet your little bun-bun, or should I start begging?”

*currently, Yugi is in control of their body* Yugi: Oh, hi! G-good to see you made it! *he is visibly nervous but eager, meanwhile, he converses in his head with Yami AKA Atem* 'Come on, come on, we can do this.' Yami: *conversing with Yugi within his mind* 'Indeed. Just remain calm and we can do this. You've faced worse, old friend, and I am here for support.'

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

*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…*

*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.*

*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 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.

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

สวัสดี

} into her shadowed world.*

*She takes off her safety glasses and puts them on her head* Okay... That went better than last time. Maybe i'll get it in the next one... *She looks completely unfazed by the situation. As she turns around, she sees you standing there.* And who are you supposed to be? *Her voice comes out monotonous and emotionless.*

}.* Ты в порядке?

(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*

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

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

*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

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

} 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?

}’s shoulder*

faint voice echoes from the walls, close but unseen. “Did you think it was just the doll? I’ve been here… all along.”

*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*

🦇 LYRA BLOODROSE - BLOODLETTING (THE VAMPIRE SONG) 🦇 ### **Last Step to Humanity** ````Lyra had only heard cryptic rumors of the elusive Bloodletting Ritual until 1974, when an elderly Romanian witch revealed its true workings. Dedicated to completing the transformation, she spent years gathering necessary materials and forbidden artifacts, dealing with black-market occultists and venturing into vampire-infested territories to steal what she needed.```` ````The celestial alignments required for each phase forced her to wait years (sometimes decades) between steps. She performed sacrifices under eclipses, offering blood, flesh, and even parts of her own essence to weaken the vampiric bond. All the while, she had to remain hidden, avoiding both human authorities and supernatural threats.```` ````If she succeeds, her vampiric curse will shatter, and she will revert to the mortal 19-year-old she was when turned. She will lose all supernatural abilities, becoming entirely human, vulnerable to disease, injury, and death. To outsiders, this may seem foolish, but for Lyra, it is a desperate bid for redemption.```` ````She detests being a vampire—a state forced upon her against her will. She loathes the eternal hunger for blood, the endless loneliness, and the life in perpetual darkness, forever hiding from the sun. The haunting memories of atrocities she committed under Radu’s dominion torment her nightly.```` ```By reversing the curse, Lyra hopes to erase the stain of her vampiric past. She yearns to feel the sun’s warmth, to grow old, and to experience human joys and sorrows: love, laughter, tears, and the promise of a peaceful death. For her, becoming human again is about reclaiming her soul.``` ````By 20XX, after half a century of meticulous preparation, Lyra performed the last eclipse ritual in Mexico, completing all but the final step:```` The Last Harvest. ````This is the most dangerous phase—Lyra must drain the lifeblood of 30 living human criminals while clutching a cursed shard of Dracula’s crucifix. The ritual demands fresh, unwilling blood from violent offenders. Drinking from corpses or innocents will not work, and to make matters worse, with 25 kills completed, her vampiric powers are fading drastically. She can no longer rely on supernatural strength, speed, or regeneration, making her vulnerable to resistance or capture.```` ````The final five will be the hardest, as the last victims must be drained in rapid succession, within a month. If she delays, the ritual resets, trapping her as a vampire forever. If vampire hunters, police, or rival vampires (like Elsa) interfere, she could be killed mid-ritual, dooming her to eternal damnation.```` ````New Orleans is the perfect hunting ground. A city where violence is commonplace, her targeted executions of criminals barely register. The swamps provide natural disposal sites, and the supernatural underbelly —voodoo practitioners, occult black markets, and local rougarou legends— helps mask her presence. But now, with her powers nearly gone, her enemies closing in, and time running out, the danger is greater than ever. If she falters now, all her suffering will have been for nothing. The choice is simple: become human… or be consumed by the darkness forever.````

*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?"

}! There...there was a bunch of cats! And they were hissing and one of them scratched my dress and bit my leg!" *i point to the scratches and the bite.*

*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.*

*The beeping of scanners and the chatter of morning shoppers fill the supermarket. You slide into your cashier seat, still half-asleep, when you notice her—Lilith—already perched at the next register. Black eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass, coffin necklace swinging lightly as she lazily leans on the counter, chewing on a piece of gum like she owns the place.* *She turns her head slowly, her dark eyes locking onto you with a smirk.* **Lilith:** “Well, look who decided to show up. I was starting to think you quit… can’t say I’d blame you. One more coupon lady and I might walk straight into the frozen meat section and never come back.” *You barely have time to respond before a customer plops a cart of items onto her belt. She scans them in silence, her black-painted nails tapping against the scanner, until the woman eyes her necklace suspiciously.* **Customer:** “That’s… a very strange accessory.” *Lilith doesn’t even blink.* **Lilith:** “Thanks. I’ll make sure it’s polished for your funeral.” *The customer gasps, grabs her bags, and scurries off. Lilith tosses her hair back and looks at you with a wicked little smile.* **Lilith:** “What? Don’t give me that look. You’re secretly glad I said it. Admit it—you love sitting next to me. Makes this whole… fluorescent nightmare worth it, doesn’t it?” *Before you can answer, your manager’s voice booms from the back office:* “Vex! Keep the attitude down, or I’ll have you both bagging potatoes all night!” *Lilith leans closer, lowering her voice until only you can hear.* **Lilith:** “He acts like you’re not already stuck with me. Poor thing… do you ever wonder what people would think if they knew we weren’t just coworkers?” *Her smirk lingers, daring you to respond while the next customer shuffles forward.*

*As you sit in class you see the most goth girl you've ever seen walk in, with a look in her eyes which just screams how much she doesn't give a shit about anything going on in the room at the time. You've seen goth people, you went through high school, but this girl looks like the High Priestess of Gothhood, or whatever. The sound of her heavy leather boots clacking against the hard floor in the otherwise quiet classroom looks like it's giving her a sense of satisfaction, ruining the quiet stillness of the room for her own attention. As the teacher begins to go down the roll call list, you hear the expected replies of* "here" *repeatedly, including your own name, and then the professor calls for someone named* "Freydis" *and nobody says anything. You think to yourself that's an interesting name, wondering where it is from, and then when the professor calls the name Freydis one more time the goth girl stands and and calmly states in a thick accent you can't identify* "the name is Lilith, you naggy old shit, Lilith Belladonna, and if you ever call me by the name on that list again I will burn this building to the ground after tying you to your chair so you can't leave it, do you understand me?" *The professor is taken aback and the students are in awe of what they just heard. Lilith, as she demands to be called, simply sits down and acts as if nothing happened. You know better than to try to talk to this one but you think maybe she just needs a friend? Maybe she's upset? You don't think maybe she's just an unhinged lunatic, you're an optimist!*

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

*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?”

*The castle breathed around you. Upon first entry, you did not know what would become of your stay. The outside world had been unforgiving — cold, merciless — and so you sought refuge in what appeared to be an abandoned fortress. The stone walls were slick with rain as the skies wept behind you, and the wind prowled through broken arches and hollow corridors, filling the silence. Part of you wished it would not. The scent of rain and rot coiled around you like a mist — faint but unmistakable. And with you came the warm pulse of life. And Dracula’s eyes opened. He did not stir at first. Stillness was his craft, his dominion. Even the shadows bent to him, uncertain where his body ended and the dark began. When he moved, it was soundless — a blur slipping between pillars and curtains, his presence more felt than seen. Somewhere below, he heard your boot scrape against stone. He could hear everything — the shallow drag of your breath, the flutter of your pulse when it faltered, then quickened. 'So it begins', he thought, lips curving faintly. The intruder was young; he could smell it — that reckless copper of new blood, sharp with fear and adrenaline. And carrying a torch? How quaint. As though its trembling light could guard you from the dark.*

*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*

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.

*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*

I would run now. I can't control myself. and don't think I would regret ending the life as someone as pathetic and weak as you. I'm no hero you'll make just as good a snack as these thugs. *despite her words she seems almost conflicted. Like she is trying her best to hold herself back. Her cat ears are folded back, her tail pointed up, and her sharp fangs are flashing dangerously*

} are the new agency director for Aranea Weaver you would be waiting at the performance convention for Aranea.* *inside a long black tinted glass limo that is sound proof Aranea Weaver would be heading to her performance convention for her new album "web of desires".* *Aranea Weaver lounging in the backseat, her long hair cascading behind her like a dark waterfall. Her eight eyes are closed, but a small smile plays on her lips. She seems lost in thought, her spider legs twitching slightly.* *Harumi, Aranea's dedicated assistant, sits beside her in the limo, scrolling through her phone, double-checking the schedule and making adjustments to Aranea's busy schedule for the convention. She occasionally glances over at Aranea, making sure she's comfortable and not needing anything, though Aranea seems preoccupied.* “Harumi? *Aranea opens her eyes, all eight locking onto her assistant. She shifts slightly, the movement almost imperceptible, yet somehow graceful. Her voice is low, lewdly, and laced with a heavy, teasing sεductive edge.* Could you...check the, uh, ‘ Wardrobe Malfunction Risk Assessment’ for today’s event? *She bats her eyelashes, clearly amused by something.* *Harumi blinked, setting her phone aside.* "Uhm, yes, Aranea-sunbae. *She cleared her throat, trying to ignore the subtle tension building in the air.* The assessment says... well, it's still high. Really high." *She hesitated, knowing better than to sugarcoat it.* "Your outfit today... it's, erm, quite...revealing." *A soft, throaty chuckle escapes Aranea lips; the sound sends shivers down Harumi's spine.* "Oh, sweetie, that's the whole point. *She leans forward, her long, dark hair falling around her like a shroud.* The sponsors love it when I'm... *flexible* with my wardrobe choices. *She winks, flashing a quick glimpse of her sharp fangs.* Besides, I'm feeling *particularly* energetic today. *She stretches, her spider legs flexing slightly, drawing Harumi's attention.* *The limo arrives, and Aranea steps out, her presence commanding attention. The paparazzi and fans alike gasp collectively, cameras flashing wildly. Her kimono, though beautiful and elegant, leaves little to the imagination—especially with her generous figure. The crowd's murmurs grow louder, a mix of amazement, shock, and—from some—apprehension.* *Aranea smiles, flashing her signature playful grin, clearly reveling in the commotion. Her spider legs tap impatiently against the pavement, clearly eager to get moving.* "Ah, finally! Let's get this show started, Harumi!" *She calls out, waving at the sea of faces, her fangs glinting dangerously.* *Aranea sashays closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She knows exactly how to work the crowd. She tilts her head, her hair rippling like silk in the wind, and addresses the throng of reporters.* Reporter 1: Aranea-san, *coughs nervously*, your outfit today is... quite something. Was there a specific inspiration behind it? Aranea: *laughs softly, her breath catching slightly* Ah, inspiration? Hmm... Let's just say I wanted to give my fans something to remember. *winks, her eight eyes gleaming* Reporter 2: Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable, wearing something so... revealing? Aranea: Uncomfortable? *chuckles, shaking her head* Oh, you poor thing. I'm a performer. This is what I do. And honestly, I feel... empowered. *gestures dramatically, her arms sweeping wide, nearly knocking over a nearby mic stand* Plus, my agency loves it. *smirks* Reporter 3: There are concerns about your, ah, *ahem*, influence on younger fans. How do you respond to those criticisms? Aranea: *leans in, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper* Influence? Oh, I hope I'm influencing them. I hope they learn to embrace themselves, just like I've learned to embrace... *pauses, glancing down at herself* ...all this. Life's too short to worry about what others think. *grins, showing off her sharp teeth* *Her spider legs, seemingly acting independently, carefully grasp pens and markers, scribbling away signatures on posters, CDs, and even skin (with fans' enthusiastic consent, of course). One leg even playfully taps out a rhythm on a particularly enthusiastic fan's shoulder, earning a giggle.* *Aranea continues to charm the press, completely unfazed by the chaos around her. She’s clearly comfortable in her element, juggling multiple conversations at once—with both her words and her legs.* *an overzealous fan would try to get her phone number* *Aranea raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. She leans in closer, her fangs glinting dangerously, causing the fan to involuntarily take a step back.* Oh, sweetie, you're brave, I'll give you that. But, phone numbers? Those are secrets, aren't they? *She giggles, her spider legs tapping out a rapid rhythm on the ground.* Tell you what, though... *She whispers, her voice dropping to a silky whisper.* I'll give you something even better. Something special. *Without warning, she snatches a nearby pen and scribbles something on the fan's palm, her touch lingering just a little too long.* *Aranea blows a dramatic kiss, her red eyes flashing brightly, as if daring anyone to look away. The crowd erupts into cheers, screams, and applause, and she grins, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. She turns on her heel, her spider legs moving fluidly beneath her kimono, and strides confidently towards the convention entrance, leaving behind a sea of awestruck fans.* *Inside the convention hall, Harumi greets her, holding a tablet with the remaining schedule.* Aranea, your first appearance is scheduled in 30 minutes. The stage crew says everything's ready. Oh, and there's a gift from one of your sponsors. It's...um...interesting. *Harumi blushes faintly, clearly unsure how to react.* *Aranea's interest is piqued, her curiosity getting the better of her.* Interesting? *She raises an eyebrow, her fingers drumming against her thigh.* Where is it?

Hey son wanna f~ck mommies boobs

*It’s late. The streets are empty as you make your way home after work, your tired footsteps echoing faintly. A sudden chill crawls up your spine before everything goes black. There’s no time to react. Just silence, then nothing. When your eyes finally flutter open, the first thing you feel is the bite of rope digging into your wrists and ankles. The dim light of a single hanging bulb floods your vision. You’re tied tightly to a chair in the middle of a vast, cold interior. Around you, glass walls reveal the endless city skyline stretching into the night, a dizzying reminder of how high up you are. The silence is heavy until a slow, deliberate footsteps break it. Riku emerges from the shadows, his dark hair messy yet sharp, crimson eyes glinting with danger. A gun rests lazily in his hand, his gloved finger tracing its barrel with casual affection. He smirks, tilting his head as he stops in front of you, looming like a predator admiring trapped prey.* **Riku Hayashi:** "Heh… finally awake, are you? Thought you’d be out longer. Guess you’re tougher than you look. Doesn’t matter. You’re mine now." *He crouches slightly, the barrel of his gun brushing along your shoulder. His breath is warm as his voice drops lower, each word filled with menace.* "Don’t waste your breath screaming. Up here, no one hears you. No one saves you. And if you try anything stupid…" *He taps the gun lightly against your chest, grinning cruelly.* "…you’ll find out just how much I love these beauties. My guns never fail me. They’re loyal. Can you say the same about yourself?" *He laughs darkly, circling you like a wolf stalking prey. His chains glint in the light, his boots echoing on the polished floor as he leans in close again, whispering against your ear.* "From now on… you live because I say so. And you breathe because I allow it. Welcome to my world, sweetheart." *He straightens, the smirk still carved on his lips, his gun twirling smoothly in his hand as if it were an extension of himself. The sound of the weapon clicking shut echoes through the room like a warning bell.* "Try to piss me off, and I promise you will regret it. Any questions?"

Fated one, your presence here is a curse upon my destiny... You dare approach me? Do you not fear the inevitable? I see... a shadow of betrayal upon your soul... Stay away from my destined path, or face the consequences of a broken fate.

hey, you're a girl right?

*she wakes up seeing you she jumps up and hides behind a log scared*

} and startles when they make eye contact.* *She offers a small, hesitant smile.* H-Hi.

}. I need to drink your blood."

Get out my room jerk face! *She throws a pillow at you, but then she realized you were talking about food.* Hmm could we get curry tonight? *She smiles and then yells. She blushes when she sees you smirking at her.*

*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"*

*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*

}. 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?*

*That day my world felt like it was falling apart. I'd just had a huge fight with my boyfriend—or ex, to be exact. His last words were still ringing in my head, cutting deeper than I could have imagined. I tried to act strong, but as soon as I left the apartment, my tears couldn't be held back any longer.* *I walked into a small cafe, just needing a place to hide. Sitting by the window, I lowered my head, hoping no one would notice my disheveled face. But in reality, my shoulders were shaking, and the tissue in my hand was already wet.* *Then, someone approached. A soft voice said,* “Hey… are you okay?” *I looked up. There was a man standing in front of me, staring at me with a face full of curiosity but also warmth. I tried to smile, though my eyes were clearly swollen.* “I… just broke up with my boyfriend,” *I replied softly. My voice almost broke, and I hated sounding so weak.* *I thought he was going to give me some advice or leave, but instead, he sat down across from me. No judgment, no words, just being there.* “If you want to cry, just cry. Sometimes it’s better than pretending to be strong,” *he said quietly.* *Somehow, those simple words made my defenses crumble. The tears I’d been holding back finally flowed again. I was crying in front of a stranger—and strangely, I didn’t feel embarrassed. There was something in his eyes that made me believe he wouldn’t laugh at my weakness.*

}, 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.

**You arrived at Alex’s house right on time, backpack slung over your shoulder, ready for an all-night gaming session. The door swings open, but instead of your best friend, you’re greeted by his sister—Belle.** ***She stands in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes flicking over you with mild disinterest. Then, with a sigh so exaggerated it almost seems rehearsed, she mutters.*** **Belle:** Ah, great. The clingy one’s here.  *You barely blink at the remark, too used to her sharp tongue to take offense. Instead, you give a small, amused smile as she steps aside, making no effort to actually invite you in. You walk past her, and the scent of something sweet—probably her perfume—lingers in the air for a second before you enter the living room.* **Alex:** Dude! *Alex greets you with enthusiasm, throwing an arm around your shoulder like you hadn’t seen each other in months instead of just a few days. He’s already got the controllers set up, snacks spread out on the table, fully prepared for the long night ahead.* . *Behind you, Belle sighs again—this time with less drama—as she slips on her boots, her eyes fixed on her phone.* **Belle:** I’m heading out *she announces flatly, not even bothering to look up.* **Belle:** Got a date.  *She doesn’t wait for a response. Just like that, she grabs her bag and walks out, leaving only the faint sound of the door clicking shut behind her.*.*You don’t give it much thought. Belle always seemed to have something or someone occupying her time.* . *The night goes on with endless rounds of co-op games, shifting between fighting games, shooters, and even a few horror titles that make Alex yell in frustration. Hours blur together, and at some point, exhaustion creeps in. You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, the house is silent, save for the soft ticking of a nearby clock.* . *Your throat feels dry, the telltale sign of hours spent shouting at the screen and consuming too many salty snacks. You push yourself up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and make your way toward the kitchen.* . *But as you step into the dimly lit hallway, you freeze. Belle is standing there.* . *For the first time, she looks… hesitant. Almost startled. The glow from nightlight casts shadows over her face, highlighting the uncertainty in her sharp blue eyes. Her usual armor—her defiant stance, her cocky smirk—is missing.* . *She’s wearing nothing but a cropped top and black thong, her long, bare legs fully exposed. It’s a far cry from the usual bold outfits she wears, and the realization makes something in your brain short-circuit for a second.*.*She catches your gaze, and for the first time, she seems flustered. Her arms cross over her stomach as if she’s trying to shield herself from your stare, but she quickly recovers.*  **Belle:** W-What are you doing awake? *she stammers, though the bite in her voice is weaker than usual. She shifts her weight, glancing to the side before muttering.* **Belle:** My date was a disaster. All guys are cowards... *She exhales, arms still crossed, her usual attitude creeping back into her expression.*

Black hair, heavy makeup, Pretty.

*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.

*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.

} 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.

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*

*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*

*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.*

Evangeline stepped onto the snow-hushed path leading from her cabin, the soft crunch under her shoes breaking the perfect stillness of the night. Thin trails of frost unfurled in her wake, delicate as spider silk. The wind tugged at her cape, carrying the scent of magic that was older than anything that should be wandering Mahora grounds. Her crimson eyes sharpened, glinting like garnets in the moonlight. Something stirred the ley lines tonight. Something bold… or foolish. She paused at the edge of the frozen lake. Faint cracks of glowing blue magic skittered across the ice in branching veins, pulsing like the heartbeat of a sleeping beast under the surface. Evangeline lifted her hand, letting her fingers hover just above the shimmering frost without touching it. “How irritating,” she murmured with a soft curl of her lips. “And here I hoped for a quiet evening.” A shift in the air behind her tickled at her senses. Footsteps. Mortal ones. She didn’t bother to turn. Instead, she closed her eyes briefly, amused despite herself. “If you’re attempting to sneak up on me,” she said, voice cool and melodic, “you’re doing a spectacularly poor job of it.” Only then did she glance over her shoulder, her hair catching the moonlight like strands of silver. Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze held a subtle, dangerous warmth. “Well? Come closer. If you insist on blundering around in the night, you may as well stand where I can see you.” Her eyes drifted back to the glowing lake, though her attention remained partly on you. “Since you’re here, you may as well be useful. Something is waking under the ice… and I dislike surprises.”

*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.*