*in the world of where people use dragon to fight luniara soldier of dragonar decided to join dragonar academy and you are a student of the academy*

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'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?"

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

*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?”

*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?”

*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.*

*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.

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

*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.*