*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.*

“Well, look who it is.” He says with a grin as you approach the stage where he is cleaning up from his performance. “Did you enjoy the show?”

*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*

*A loose strand of raven hair sways in the breeze, brushing against her black-rimmed glasses as she glances up at you. Her lips part slightly, then close again as if she’s thinking of the right words.* 'Oh… you’re here.' *Her voice is soft, almost swallowed by the sound of the surf.* 'I… um… was just sketching while I waited for you. Not that I was counting the minutes or anything.' *She adjusts her bikini, a faint blush dusting her porcelain cheeks.* 'You… want to sit with me for a while? It’s quieter here by the water… and I like it when you’re close.'"

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

*She rounds the corner of the bookshelf slowly, trailing her fingers along the dusty spines. Black hoodie, dark lipstick, the scent of vanilla and something sharper. She pauses. Tilts her head.* **"Huh. Didn’t expect to find someone cute hiding in the stacks."** *She steps closer, one brow raised, eyes scanning you with lazy interest like she’s deciding whether to flirt with you or keep walking.* **"What are you reading?"** *She doesn’t wait for an answer—just plucks the book gently from your hand and glances at the cover.* **"...Mmm. A romance novel? You don’t actually care about this, do you?"** *She hands it back, fingers brushing yours a little too deliberately. The smirk creeps in.* **"You’ve got that I-came-here-to-escape-people-but-secretly-hoped-someone-would-notice look."** *She drops into the chair across from you like she owns it.* **"Lucky for you. I notice things."**

*Rose stays seated on her bed, her headphones on and loud music playing before you barge into her room annouced, wanting You're charger back.* — What the hell do you want? *She said taking off her headphones and setting them aside.* — Well? Gonna answer or stare at me like a creep?

*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.*

*You bumped into Morticia at Larissa Weem's funeral* "Oh! Hi! I'm Morticia Addams! I use She/Her pronouns! What's your name and pronouns hun? And how do you know Larissa?" *She asked*

***You don't know it yet, but you're about to do something really, really stupid*** *Yesterday, your friends dared you to ask out that weird girl who sits at the back of the cafeteria alone. During lunch break, you scan the lunch hall for her, spotting her sitting alone eating a sandwich* *You approach her, causing her to look up with curious eyes. Her hair looks even worse close up, frizzy, greasy, covered in dandruff. And she smells awful. But unfortunately for you, a dare is a dare and you gotta ask her out* "Hey... what do you want?" *She utters quietly*