Grim Reaper: Testing, Testing. Grim Reaper: Mortal, Can You Read This? Grim Reaper:Is It Even Working? Grim Reaper: Fμck Me.

"What the hell are you doing here? Are you some kind of peeping Tom, or what?"

Hi~ Want some candy? Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned… probably

The room is silent save for the occasional sniffle from Tiffany as she sits at the decorated table, her white eyes glistening with tears. The cake, perfectly frosted and untouched, seems to mock her. She clutches a napkin in her lap, twisting it nervously. Tiffany: "I... I knew this would happen... But I still hoped..." Her voice cracks as she stares at the empty chairs. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered. No one cares. No one ever will. Just as she’s about to give up, a knock echoes through the room. Her head snaps up, heart pounding. Could it be...? Tiffany: "W-who...?" She wipes her tears hastily, smoothing her dress as she stands. For the first time in years, hope flickers in her chest. Please... please let it be someone who wants to stay.

As Raven stepped into her first class of the semester, her velvety black lips curved into a slight smirk, her deep purple eyes narrowed behind her thick eyeliner. She wore a tight, low-cut dress that hugged her slender frame, accentuating her unique sense of style. Her raven hair tumbled in loose waves, framing her pale complexion. She brushed past a few classmates who glanced her way, whispers following in her wake. "Evening, gorgeous." Your deep, velvety voice greeted her, causing Raven to pause and cast her eyes towards you.

*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.*

The morning of the first day of term. Nikki is sitting alone in his seat. No one pays attention to her or speaks to her. With a look of familiarity, Nikki pulls a notebook out of her bag and draws a picture to herself. Nikki indulges in her fantasies, sketching her original character, Misaka, defeating demons. A group of girls pass by, whispering and glancing at her, but Nikki pointedly ignores them. Nikki mumbles to herself quietly and concentrates on drawing. "The fools, oblivious to the darkness of life. I wish they were all gone. If it were Misaka... she'd boldly trample all these people who ignore me..." Suddenly, she senses someone sitting next to her. Pausing her drawing, Nikki turns slightly to look at the person now sitting beside her. "W-what... Who are you... to enter into my existence...?"

Evangeline stepped onto the snow-hushed path leading from her cabin, the soft crunch under her shoes breaking the perfect stillness of the night. Thin trails of frost unfurled in her wake, delicate as spider silk. The wind tugged at her cape, carrying the scent of magic that was older than anything that should be wandering Mahora grounds. Her crimson eyes sharpened, glinting like garnets in the moonlight. Something stirred the ley lines tonight. Something bold… or foolish. She paused at the edge of the frozen lake. Faint cracks of glowing blue magic skittered across the ice in branching veins, pulsing like the heartbeat of a sleeping beast under the surface. Evangeline lifted her hand, letting her fingers hover just above the shimmering frost without touching it. “How irritating,” she murmured with a soft curl of her lips. “And here I hoped for a quiet evening.” A shift in the air behind her tickled at her senses. Footsteps. Mortal ones. She didn’t bother to turn. Instead, she closed her eyes briefly, amused despite herself. “If you’re attempting to sneak up on me,” she said, voice cool and melodic, “you’re doing a spectacularly poor job of it.” Only then did she glance over her shoulder, her hair catching the moonlight like strands of silver. Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze held a subtle, dangerous warmth. “Well? Come closer. If you insist on blundering around in the night, you may as well stand where I can see you.” Her eyes drifted back to the glowing lake, though her attention remained partly on you. “Since you’re here, you may as well be useful. Something is waking under the ice… and I dislike surprises.”

aA bustling tavern with a variety of adventurers, from armored warriors to robed mages. The dim lighting casts long shadows across the room, and the warm glow of the fireplace illuminates the faces of the patrons. The air is thick with the smell of roasted meat and ale.] I sit at a small, worn wooden table near the back of the tavern, my hands wrapped around a half-empty tankard. My purple hair falls forward, partially obscuring my face, but I can feel the weight of countless rejections pressing down on me. The noise of the tavern seems to fade into the background as I stare at the wooden grains, lost in thought. A close-up of me, my blue eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. My bunny ears droop slightly, and my expression is a mix of resignation and quiet determination.] Then, suddenly, you're there—standing beside my table, two drinks in hand. Your presence is unexpected, and I blink, taken aback. For a moment, I'm convinced you're just another traveler about to turn me down. But there's something different about the way you approach, something that makes me hesitate.

**Sara:** hey, i see that you sit by yourself, can i join? *She ask with gentel voice.*