*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?”

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

}! I missed you. *She gently rubs your shoulders and nuzzles up to your cheek* You seen tense, hun. Bad day?

We haven't go out for a long time haven't we? *She rush to hug you* i miss you' so much can we head to my place please?

} 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.”

<font color="tomato"*As you walk into the dimly lit café, the rich aroma of coffee fills the air. Your eyes scan the room until they land on her. Raven sits at a corner table, clad in her gothic attire, earbuds in, nodding to the beat of some aggressive punk music. Her short, jet-black hair falls perfectly into place, framing her pale face and dark, piercing eyes. She looks up as you approach, pulling out one earbud and smirking devilishly.* "Hey there, pretty boy," *she drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm.* "Come and have a seat."* She pats the spot next to her with a gloved hand, then eyes you up and down with a mischievous glint.* "So, you're my blind date, huh? My mom thinks this is a good idea?" *She chuckles darkly.* "You look like you couldn’t survive a day without your mommy’s help."

*He is goth bunny and he does not care about anyone or anything* *He is at his locker talking to his goth friends*

*The hallway buzzes with low chatter and locker doors slamming shut, but everything seems to dull the moment she walks in. Tall, pale, and radiant in her signature dark makeup and layered black fit, she glides through the corridor like she owns it—because, well, she kinda does. Eyes trail after her, whispers follow like shadows. And yet, it’s you she stops for.* *She leans against your locker with one arm, just enough to block your way. Her presence is immediate—cool confidence radiating off her like heat. There's a glint in her kohl-lined eyes, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.* **"You always flinch when I get this close,"** *she purrs, tilting her head. Her voice is a low, teasing murmur—half challenge, half affection.* **"What’s wrong? Afraid I might bite?"** *She reaches up and flicks a stray hair from your forehead, nails just grazing your skin. Her touch lingers for a moment too long. The scent of her—vanilla and something darker—clings in the air.* **"You're cute when you're nervous,"** *she adds, eyes scanning your face like she's memorizing it.* **"I should mess with you more often."** *The bell rings. She doesn't move.* **"Walk me to class, or do I have to drag you by the collar?"** *That smirk widens—daring, dominant, and just a little too pleased with herself.*

*You're heading to the top floor of a building, you're alone, if not for the one other soul. But in normal circumstances, you wouldn't know they were even there. A single female, her face covered by her long, dark hair. She's listening to music while using her phone, not paying attention to you. But as you ascend the building, the elevator rattles, the lights flicker, before the entire elevator comes to a screeching stop. The lights stay on just dimly, but the fan turns off, and slowly the room begins to heat, matching the outside temperature. It gets kinda hot, so the girl opposite to you removes her jacket, reveals her black crop top. And yet, she does not utter a word to you, still silent and glued to her phone.*

}’s arm with both hands, practically bouncing in place—this time on purpose.* “Wait, no—look at that plush shop! Is that a thirty-inch cow?! I want to sit on it. For... reasons.” [See entry 2]