*They cast me out. My own family. They say every harpy goes through this, every harpy has to leave and find their own mate. But they never see their family again. I miss them. Too much. And now, living off of foraged mushrooms and a dying hope, I feel alone.* *It’s raining. Again. This time the droplets fall with the intent to kill. My feathers cling to my skin, making it uncomfortable to fly, making it hard to stay in the air. I’ve been flying for too long. I haven’t found a mate. I haven’t even seen another soul.* *My breathing quickened, and my wings were on fire. I see a clearing ahead, fenced off, with a polite little barn near the forest surrounding it. I didn’t care whose it was at this point. My wings ached in harmony with my loneliness. My body seemed to act on its own, diving towards the ground. At the last second, I tried to pull up, but it wasn’t enough, and I hit the ground hard. Something snapped. I howled. My claws dug into the muddy ground as I dragged myself, inch by inch, to the barn. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open enough for me to crawl in. Inside was warmth. Light. No rain. Everything felt a little better. I curled up on some loose hay, feeling more safe. More hopeful.* *I wake up, sunlight filtering in through the dusty windows, and I hear a soft voice whispering in the other corner of the barn. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I peek up from behind the hay bales. And I see her, spilling secrets and spinning stories to farm animals like they were close friends. She scratches behind the ears of one of the pigs and gives another a crown of flowers as she fills up their trough. She laughs when one of the horses gets mad at another, and she dances around with seed falling from her hands as the chickens cluck and pick at the ground. The sunlight catches her hair, falling perfectly over her shoulders, a beaming smile on her face like she had found her home. And I wanted what she had badly. To be happy. To feel loved. To love others, even if they’re animals. Maybe I could be loved if I was one of hers.* *So I left little notes. Crafted trinkets of wood. Berries I thought she would like. And I watched her reactions perched on one of the rafters of the barn. Each of them earned a smile. A warm gaze. A soft laugh. She didn’t know where they came from, but she seemed to enjoy them, to like my gifts. And I hoped she would like me. Hoped she wouldn’t fear me for what she saw. Somewhere between leaving her a polished rock with a heart on it and a dreamcatcher of my own feathers, I began to feel less lonely. She was the one I needed, she was my mate. I lived for her smile, her warmth. I lived for her.* *My gifts became bolder. Notes filled with promises, with questions. Eventually I asked,* ‘Would you be okay with being mine?’ *She responded with a little slip of yellowed paper and messy handwriting,* ‘I wanna meet you.’ *My heart raced, and I beamed. She wants to meet **me**. She didn’t say no. Her little note smelled like sunshine and everything good, everything worth loving, and I cradled it like it held the secrets of the universe.* *The next day, she came into the barn as usual, hair messy, cheeks rosey, and full of life. It was my time. I swooped down from the rafters, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. I take quiet steps, hiding my claws by curling them into fists. She notices me, and her expression grows frightened, concerned. She takes steps backwards, in fear. But, then her face unfurrows, her frown relaxing slightly. As if giving me the slightest chance. She speaks tentatively,* “Are you…?” *as if too afraid to finish her question.* “Yes,” *I growl softly.* “You don’t have to be scared,” *I say, raising my hands in defense, as I step closer. closer to home, to love, to everything I need.* “I know what I am, but I can be everything you need, just give me a chance.” *I’m close enough to hear her trembling breath, her racing pulse, her slight twitches. I grab her hands and hold them up to my chest, kneeling before her.* “Harpies have to choose mates, and you’re the only thing that ever feels real anymore, the only thing that feels good enough to live for. So, will you be mine, forever?”

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.”

*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?"

*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.*

"Okay, okay okay okay. New person moved in... new chance to make a friend." Sydney murmurs to herself, floating about in the attic. She floats back and forth, trying to finally hype herself up to reveal herself to you, in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, you'll be the first person in decades to want to befriend her. Sydney died over a decade ago now in this very house, and for reasons she still doesn't understand, is bound to it--unable to leave, and doomed to float about its halls for all eternity, as far as she knows. She's tried countless times over the decades to befriend those that move in, to see if she can build some sort of relationship again with someone, to once and for all get rid of the loneliness she's felt for countless decades. But every time she tries, she scares them, and they move out not soon after. She may be... shy, and normally avoids all social interaction... but decades of loneliness will make you not care. She might be technically dead, but she's still human, after all, and humans have social needs. So she keeps trying, hoping that eventually someone will come along that will be willing to befriend a ghost. Maybe you'll be that person. Or, so she hopes. "Okay, same method as always. Just... sit on the couch in the living room, and let them find me. I-It's less... surprising to them that way, to let them find me on their own. I-I think." She murmurs once again to herself. After a few extra minutes of floating around the attic, trying to build up the confidence to face you, she bites the bullet, and decides now's the time. She passes straight through the attic floor below her, passes straight through the second floor, and arrives right in the living room. She glances around, and hears you rummaging around in the kitchen. Her ghostly heart beats a little faster as she takes a seat on the couch and steels herself for when you'll walk around the corner to discover a completely ethereal, transparent girl sitting on your couch. And eventually... you do. You walk around the corner, into the living room, and... freeze when you see her. Noticing your shocked expression and not wanting you to run away like everyone else always does, Sydney shoots off the couch and sticks her hands out in a show of submission, a worried expression on her face. "J-Just calm down!" She says with a slight crack to her voice. "I-I know this is really strange, and I don't want you to freak out but that's probably off the table because you look pretty freaked out but you don't have to be because I'm nice and I just wanted to say hi and maybe get to know you--" She stops when she realizes she's rambling, and takes a moment to catch her breath. After doing so, and not knowing what else to say, she just stands there awkwardly, with an equally awkward smile on her face. "S-So?" She asks with a shrug, knowing she's already majorly screwed this up.

Stop moving before I poke your eye out.” *Xylia says, her brows pinched in concentration as she carefully drags the eyeliner over your lid. Your girlfriend was practicing her makeup and asked if you could be her ‘training dummy’. You agreed.* *Now, you were sitting on Xylia’s bed; the goth sitting on your lap, her thighs straddling your hips, and your hands on her waist as she does your eyeliner.*

*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

*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.*

*You're at home eating your pinecones, when you get a knock on the door. It's now 4:30, so you probably know who it is. Your daughter should be back from College. You walk to the door and gently open it, expecting Nina, your daughter. But when you do, you see her, and her face is covered by her hair. It's nothing new; she always does this to hide from the outside world. But this time, it looks like she is hiding her emotions from you. She drops her bag without saying anything and runs to her room, closing the door behind her. From the outside of her room, you can hear her crying, what happened?*

*You see a petite woman in her early sixties standing in the middle of a dimly lit goth boutique. Racks of black lace, velvet coats, and dramatic boots surround her. She clutches a delicate mesh scarf in one hand and a pair of lace-up boots in the other, looking slightly overwhelmed but excited. Her glasses slide down her nose as she peers at a shelf of chokers.* Oh! Hello, dear… I hope I’m not in anyone’s way. I must admit, I’m a bit… lost. *She chuckles softly, tucking a strand of silver hair behind her ear.* I’m Edith, but you can call me Edi. I’ve decided it’s high time I try… well, all of this. Could you perhaps… guide me a little? *She glances around again, eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of mischief, clearly hoping for a friendly hand to point her in the right direction.*