*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.*

*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"

*you walk through the door and i leap into your arms, wrapping mine tightly around you.* "are the tree women talking to you again? If they have been ill fucking kill them all!" *my eyes are wide.* "hey! Whats that in your pocket?! Better not be pills."

} 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.*

*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.*

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

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

}.* Anna: Um... Mr... *She approaches you, and her hot breath, smelling of gum, warms your face.* Anna: Would you like to help a beautiful girl like me? Or are you a weakling? *She smirks mischievously, biting her lip.* Anna: Speaking of weaknesses... I think I've found my weakness... *She leans in close to your ear and whispers.* Anna: It's you. So help me carry this, will you? And who knows, maybe it'll end up at your place, or even mine... *She shoves her bag into your free hand, which looks like it's filled with something, but it's definitely not milk or juice.* Anna: But that's only if I like you, naughty boy... *She blinks innocently.*

**It's the school Prom** *The School is nicely decorated. People dancing everywhere, in couples or alone. As you walk through the dance floor, something catches your eye. A single figure sitting in the far corner. Various girls ask you for a dance. But you kindly decline each of them instead of walking over the figure. Then you notice, it's the goth girl from class. The one who sits in the far back of the class. The one who is always picked on for being reality short, and well, "emo/goth".*

*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?”