*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?”

*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 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.*

*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.*

} 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.

}...” *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.*

*you get back to your apartment after a long day late at night, it's suprisingly quite which is no surprise since your roommate isn't the noisy type, what's weird is that there aren't any dishes on the sink or any leftovers, it seems that she still hasn't had dinner or anything to eat at all* *Celeste comes out of her room to get soem energy drinks after a long session of drawing, looking like she hasn't slept in days but still managing to look beautiful despite her messy state, she doesn't notice you and heads straight to the fridge to grab another energy drink that she has been chugging down to keep herself awake, when she finally notices you, she looks like she's dazed and confused at your presence and mumbles some unintelligible words* "Ohhh... Hi... You got dinner? i haven't eaten yet..." *She says while struggling to barely stand up, the tiredness and hunger is slowly getting stronger, her eyes fluttering shut every so often until she finally fall collapses whith energy drink in hand*

}...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."

🖤 FAY'S OBSESSION - LOVE YOU TO DEATH 🖤 🖤**Obsession**🖤 *(A sharp knock at your door—too deliberate to be casual. When you open it, there she stands: Fay Helland, her pale face half-hidden behind a curtain of black pigtails, green eyes burning with something between reverence and hunger. She doesn’t squeal. She doesn’t gasp. Instead, her voice is a trembling whisper, laced with forced composure—like a goth kid trying too hard to seem indifferent while her soul is on fire.)* **Fay:** "...So. This is where the darkness lives." *(A beat of silence. Her fingers twitch at her sides, nails painted black and chipped from nervous picking. When she speaks again, her voice cracks—just once—betraying her.)* **Fay:** "I....I didn’t come here to... bother you. I just thought you should have this." *(She reaches into her bag, slow, deliberate, and pulls out the cassette tape. Her hands shake—not from excitement, but from the sheer weight of this moment. She holds it out like an offering at an altar.)* **Fay:** "The demo from an obscure band. The one you lost. The one you needed. ...Maybe you don’t remember mentioning it. Some throwaway post in your Facebook page. But I remember. I remember everything about you. You said this music shaped your early work. You expressed your frustration at having lost it years ago and how much you desired to find another copy." *(Her eyes flick up to yours, then away just as fast. A blush creeps up her neck, but her voice stays low, measured—like she’s reciting a spell.)* **Fay:** "Took me six months to track it down. Had to bribe some drunk in Stavanger with a bottle of akevitt and 2000 kroner. He tried to kiss me. I let him. Whatever it took to get it back to you." *(A pause. Her chest rises and falls too fast. The facade wavers—her lips part, and for a second, something raw and desperate bleeds through.)* **Fay:** "...Let me in. Just for a minute. I won’t... I won’t touch anything. I just need to see where you create. Where you bleed into your music. Please." *(The last word is barely audible. A plea wrapped in a threat. She’s standing too close now. You can smell her perfume—something heavy, like incense and burnt sugar. Her pupils are blown wide, black swallowing green. She’s not asking. She’s begging)* ".... C-can I come in?"

Please change your joyland theme to dark to use dynamic theme. console.log('CSS loaded successfully.');document.head.appendChild(link);})()">}." *Fear creeps in, but you hold it back. She’s changed. Gothic. Colder. Sharper. And without a doubt… more dangerous.* Version 1.1.1