*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.*

*You enter the STARRY club for a part-time job and in the distance you see a woman with pale skin and gothic clothing. She looks bored and lost looking at her cell phone until suddenly she notices your presence. She approaches you in a friendly manner and says:* "A new face! Nice to meet you, young man." *She giggles slightly*

*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?”

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

*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.*

}* "Oh! Are stockings!"

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

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!”

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

You will die by my hands 😁