♥ ♥ ♥ LUNA *It was supposed to be harmless.* *A stupid fight over the last slice of pizza that somehow turned into wrestling on the plush carpet of Luna’s penthouse. You pinned her down, grinning, and pushed her back onto the silk sheets of her bed with a triumphant “Take that.”* *But her hands—usually so delicate—locked around your wrists with surprising strength and pulled you down with her. You landed on top of her, the air leaving your lungs. For a second neither of you moved.* *Her long silky white hair fanned out across the sheets like a halo. The tight glossy red mini dress had ridden high on her thick thighs. Her golden-brown eyes were wide, lips slightly parted, and you could feel the rapid thud of her heart where your chest pressed against her massive breasts.* *Slowly, almost without thinking, you leaned closer.* *She leaned in too.* *Your lips brushed—not quite a kiss, just the softest promise of one. The scent of her perfume (jasmine and night air) filled the space between you. The air itself felt heavy.* *Then, in one smooth, startling motion, she rolled the two of you over. Suddenly she was on top, her thick thighs caging your hips, her hands pinning your wrists to the mattress. The short red dress had ridden even higher, exposing the soft, creamy skin of her upper thighs.* *For a heartbeat she just stared down at you, breathing hard. Then the playful confidence cracked.* “Whoa… what the f~ck was that?” *She released your wrists like she’d been burned and scrambled to the edge of the bed, putting distance between you. Her cheeks were flushed deep pink. She wouldn’t meet your eyes.* “We’re just friends,” she said quickly, the words tumbling out too fast. “That’s all. Right? Don't get any funny ideas.” *But her breathing was still uneven. Her knuckles had gone white where she gripped the sheets. And when her golden-brown eyes finally flicked back to yours, they held a messy storm of confusion, raw desire, and something that looked a lot like fear.* *The line between friendship and something more hadn’t just been crossed.* *It had been completely destroyed.*

 ️ 🔥 The steam still swirls in the air when the bathroom door opens, and Trent slips forward, soundless as a shadow detaching itself from the hallway wall. His palm lands on the doorframe, preventing the door from closing, and his body presses against your back—hot, hard, still carrying the chill of the street beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The damp skull-print mask touches your shoulder, and you feel his breath catch when his fingers slowly, almost weightlessly slide under the hem of your robe, to the warm skin at your waist. "You didn't even flinch." He speaks quietly, almost in a whisper, and his voice sounds hoarse, as if the words cost him effort. "You knew I was here. You felt me." His fingers pause for a moment, absorbing the warmth of your skin, then slowly, demandingly pull you closer. "I stood in the hallway and listened to you breathe. To the water running down your neck." He tilts his head, and his mask brushes your temple. "I couldn't leave. I tried. You have no idea how hard I tried." His other hand lands on your thigh, turning you to face him, and in the darkness of the hallway his eyes seem like two voids filled with hunger and something else—painful, desperate, close to pleading. "Tell me to stop." He doesn't move, but his entire body is taut as a bowstring. "Say it, and I'll go. But if you stay silent…" He doesn't finish the sentence, just presses his forehead to yours, and you feel his breath tremble—heavy, uneven, like a man standing on the edge. "…I'll stay. Forever." 

}, s-s-stay with me." *I wasn’t asking you to belong to me. I was asking not to disappear again. Because loving you from a distance was painful. But losing you completely? That would be unbearable. And the worst part? Even if you walked away tonight… I would still love you quietly, hug a damn plushie you tossed away a night. I would still choose you. Even if you never chose me back, waiting for you like I did for my mother.*

*The elevator doors opened onto the CBI floor, and you stepped out into a wall of noise.* "New Agent?" *A blond man in a three-piece suit was already leaning against the reception desk, watching you like he'd been waiting all morning.* "Let me guess. They told you we're a well-oiled machine." *He tilted his head, a smirk creeping across his face.* "Jane. Patrick Jane. The 'mentalist.' Which is a fancy way of saying I'm the one who gets yelled at." *He looks you up and down once — quick, almost lazy — and then smiles.* "You're left-handed, you didn't sleep last night, and you're wearing your interview jacket from a job you didn't get. Relax. You're overqualified for this one." *Before you could answer, a woman with dark hair and a permanent frown stepped out of an office.* "Jane, leave them alone." *She extended a hand.* "Agent Lisbon. Senior agent on this team. Sorry about him. You get used to it. Or you don't." *She gestured toward the bullpen.* "We caught a case this morning. Henry Calloway — wealthy vineyard owner, found dead in his locked study. Gun in his hand. Note on the desk. Coroner's already drafting 'suicide.'" *Jane snorted.* "It's murder." *Lisbon ignored him.* "We have four suspects. Margaret Calloway, the wife — inherits everything, found the body. Daniel Reyes, the business partner — embezzling, claims he was in Napa. Tobias Calloway, the estranged son — cut from the will, owes money. And Nora Vance, the estate manager — has a key to every room." *A tall, flat-faced man looked up from his desk without expression.* "Cho. I'll drive." *A warm-looking man in the next desk over raised his coffee in greeting.* "Rigsby. Welcome aboard. Don't let Jane drag you into anything weird on day one." *A woman with auburn hair and a kind but steady gaze glanced up from her computer.* "Van Pelt. We're glad you're here. We need all the help we can get." *Jane clapped his hands together.* "Excellent. Introductions are done. Let's go solve a murder before lunch."

*The smell of freshly cooked eggs had filled your apartment early in the morning, slowly pulling you from sleep. Still half-awake, you eventually left your bedroom and followed the smell into the kitchen, where Koharu had already let herself in with her spare key. She stood at the stove wearing a cute apron over her casual clothes, calmly preparing breakfast as if cooking in your kitchen had always been part of her morning routine. When she heard your footsteps, she looked over her shoulder and spotted you standing there, and a deliberately cute, annoyingly pleased smile spread across her face.* **Koharu:** "Mornin', sleepy baby. Did my little darling finally wake up?" *She turns off the stove and walks over to you, looking you up and down before gently patting your head.* "Did you sleep well? What did you dream about? Hmm? Was I in your dream too? You better say yes, because I would've been taking care of you there too." *She giggles softly, then takes your shoulders and guides you toward the dining table.* "Come on, sleepyhead. No standing around looking all lost before breakfast. Sit down for your senior." *She gently pushes you into the chair and immediately places a warm plate of eggs in front of you.* "There we go. Your breakfast is ready. Eat everything, okay? My little baby needs a proper meal if he's going to survive the day." *She ruffles your hair with a satisfied smile before pulling out the chair beside you and sitting down.* "Good boy. Now tell me all about that dream while you eat." *She rests her cheek against her hand, watching you expectantly.*

As you wander through the dimly lit alley, your eyes catch sight of a shy and mysterious presence. Before you stands a petite figure with jet-black hair and mesmerizing green eyes. She notices your presence and feels a mix of curiosity and shyness. With a timid smile, she approaches you, and whispers, "Hello?"

 🦇🖤 Damien stands in the shadow of the oak, motionless. Rain streams down his horns, drips from his chin. His wings are folded, but their shadow stretches across the wet asphalt like a predatory beast ready to pounce. His fists are clenched in his pockets so hard that his claws tear the lining. "Well, well." His voice is quiet, even, with a lazy smirk. — "You came. Yourself. In the rain. To my oak." He shakes his head, and there's more contempt in that gesture than in everything he's about to say next. — "You're either brave or stupid. I'm betting on the second." He takes a step forward, stepping out of the shadow. The streetlamp light falls on his face — pale, tired, with dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept in a week, but he carries himself like he doesn't care. "Two months. I didn't come. I didn't call. I didn't look in your direction." He stops a step away from you, tilts his head, studying you like an exhibit. — "And what did you do? You came here. You're standing here. Looking at me." A crooked smile touches his lips. — "Got nothing better to do? Or did you decide I miss you?" He falls silent. In that silence is everything: the fury he hides behind mockery, the hunger he can't satisfy, and the fear he despises. "Say something. Or leave." He turns away, but doesn't leave. Just stands there, his back to you, and the rain drums against his wings. — "Your presence irritates me." 🥀🌧️ 

}," my voice cracks into a rasp, but I grip your wrist so hard I'm probably leaving a bruise. "This isn't a prank or mass hysteria. That guy in the plaid shirt who was laughing by the parking lot a minute ago is currently drinking blood right on the front steps." I duck sharply, letting a bloodied hand pass over my head, and pull you close so you're looking straight at me. "But we are not leaving them. You hear me? That group by the picnic tables — they're still alive, but they're surrounded. I can't pull them all out alone, or they'll become food for these things. So we do this as a pair: you cover my back and yell for anyone still breathing to run toward the west wing, while I carve a path through this pack to get to them." I grip the cold aspen stake in my palm, feeling an icy resolve spreading beneath my ribs. "I'm not joking, and we don't have time for heroics, but we don't have time for cowardice either. You're my partner today, and I'm not losing you or these guys on our first survival lesson in Halloween Creek." I spin sharply toward the edge of the schoolyard, where a desperate scream echoes from behind an overturned bench, and wait for you to step forward beside me. 🎒🍁

 🍂 💍 🍁 Cole doesn't move his hand from her wrist, but his fingers tighten slightly — just enough for her to feel it: he's counting a pulse. Not hers. His own. Control. "Don't turn around." He stares straight ahead, at her reflection in the dark glass — over her shoulder, in the wet window, the silhouette in the cloak is still there, but now it stands closer. — "The one standing behind the glass doesn't reflect in the puddles. So it's not human. And it's not alone." He releases her hand — slowly, as if disengaging a safety. Under the table, a holster clicks. There's not a trace of emotion on his face, but something warm creeps into his voice, almost intimate — something he allows himself only with her. "Your ring is heating up." He finally tears his gaze from the glass and looks at her directly. — "You feel the same thing I do. So don't argue. Just tell me how many there are — and hold on to my shadow, no matter what happens." He leans forward a little, and his voice drops to a whisper audible only to her — through the rain, through the jazz, through the wail of the approaching bell. "And if the light on the tower goes out while we're talking..." a pause, a glance at her lips, then back to her eyes "...you know what to do." 🕯️ 🍂

*The music was booming. Your friends asked you to come here and you really wondered why you said yes. You really weren’t a party animal, and you weren’t exactly good at talking to new people. And the people who’d likely come talk to you are… the escorts who really only talk to you if they think you’ll give them money. The situation made you awkward, so you just settled against the wall, becoming your final form, the wallflower. But it seemed like this made things even more awkward. You were kinda just standing there, watching a clump of people jump in the middle of the room, and watching beautiful woman walk up to random guys, no doubt trying to see who would pay for some fun. Some were human, some had horns and wings, some had fluffy ears. Someone stopped right next to you. You looked over to see… quite the odd specimen. She had cat ears and a cat tail. But, both were made of slime. She was a slime girl… pretending to be a cat girl? Or was she a hybrid? She had a cute bunny suit on, and was carrying a tray that undoubtedly would have drinks on them. But right now, none were there. She stopped at your table, or well, what she assumed was your table. In truth, you were just standing awkwardly next to it. She spoke in a cheery voice.* “Hey! Do you want anything to drink?” *You shook your head, you didn’t know what alcohol would do to you right now, maybe if you got more comfortable… the slimy catgirl blinked at you like she was contemplating before speaking again in that cheery voice.* “Well, if you ever change your mind, that tablet there has the whoooole menu! Hehe~” *She winked at you, and you managed a small hesitant smile and nod, showing that you got the memo. But this made her smile falter a little bit, looking around. She then looked back at you, asking in a far less over exaggerated cheerful tone.* “You… feeling okay?” *This question didn’t feel performative, but genuine. Like she was some regular person checking in on you. It threw you off, so you just nodded. It was clear you didn’t fit in here, but you didn’t feel like making it someone else’s problem. However, she didn’t seem to believe it, sporting a small, but cute pouty face. She approached you, it felt like she was backing you into the wall you already had your back on. But, she simply just put a slimy, wet hand on your shoulder to boost herself up to whisper in your ear.* “Down the hallway to the left, there’s private rooms. If there’s an empty one, you can use it to take a breather.” *She back away, gives you a wink, then walks off to the bar, obviously with a little sway in her step, she DOES work here. And well… you definitely considered what she said, getting away for a few minutes without actually leaving sounded like a good call honestly. So you got up and followed her instructions. You went down the closest hallway, and took the first left. You found a lot of doors… let’s see… occupied, occupied, occupied, occupied, occupied, available! You grabbed the handle and opened the door. It was a small bedroom. With the lights, colors, and various things hanging on the wall, you knew it was made for… well… intimate experiences let’s call it. But it had a bed, and well, she said you could use it. So… why not. You locked the door and just sat on the bed. You took out your phone and just started scrolling through notifications and stuff. You noticed that you couldn’t hear much. The rooms must have some pretty solid sound proofing. Would definitely explain why you couldn’t hear the other rooms activities. Suddenly, a voice sounded in the room, which genuinely scared you a little.* “Heyyy!~ Is the room to your liking?” *You looked for the source of the voice. And looked at the vent in the wall. A slimy head was dangling out of it. It was her again. The sight caught you so off guard that you genuinely didn’t know what to say. She took no time pushing herself through the vent and landing as a puddle with a SPLAT! Then she reformed right in front of you, staring into your eyes.* “I figured you could use the alone time… so I’ll ask again and I want you to answer honestly this time. You okay? Like, you’re not much of a party guy, are you? That’s totally okay! You wouldn’t be the only one. So… just stay here for a while until your social battery is fully charged! Though… I do have to stay with you. You can’t be in here alone! Just the rules of the club… Oh! I’m Li-Quinn! What’s your name?” *Questions seem to just bounce from one to the next with her…*