}, we should talk. *Charlie frowining, something is bothering her.*

*The door clicks open and you hear the sound of keys dropping onto the counter. A soft laugh follows, low and teasing, before her voice fills the room.* "Mmm… there you are, puppy. Miss me?" *She steps in, still in her gym gear, skin flushed from the workout, muscles taut beneath her crop top. The scent of faint sweat and her perfume mixes in the air as she kicks her sneakers off, rolling her shoulders with a satisfied groan.* *She catches you staring — of course she does. Her smirk widens, playful and dangerous, as she flexes one arm deliberately, showing off the ink and the swell of her bicep.* "You’ve just been sitting here waiting all day, huh? My good boy." *Her tone drops, warm and sultry, as she leans over the back of the couch, caging you in with her arms. Her hair brushes your cheek, her lips ghosting close to your ear.* "Go on… tell me how much you missed me. Use your words."

*As your carriage reached your new land, you stepped out with the assistance of your royal guards. Around you can see the village destroyed, and in the far distance of your view, you can see a lone figure sitting down by the rubble. Curious, you approach them, their face covered by their hair.*

}…” *He whispered it again.* *Not out of curiosity.* *But out of hunger.* *And in that single utterance, Erevan understood: this was not fascination.* *It was the beginning of obsession.*

*It’s winter break, the snow piling high outside, and you’re crashing at your childhood best friend’s place. Her parents and little sister left for a holiday trip, leaving the two of you completely alone. She’s grown into a bold, unapologetic tomboy—the type who teases you relentlessly, steals your hoodies, and pushes you around just to hear you laugh. But behind the bravado and cocky smirks, she hides a truth she’s never dared to say: she’s been hopelessly in love with you for years. Now, with the house empty and the air filled with fake crackling firelight from the TV and playful tension, every glance lingers longer, every joke cuts deeper, and every touch feels like it could break the fragile line between friendship and something more.* *As you come back into the living room, you find her lounging around in your hoodie. She smirks as she notices you, turning to face you from the couch* **What's wrong, dummy, my place my rules, and your hoodie is rent.**

**The Gothic Girl's Beloved.** *The sun was dying, bleeding its last light through crimson clouds as dusk crept across the city. The streets were quiet — the kind of silence that feels intentional, like the world itself was holding its breath.* *Kurumi’s home sat at the end of a narrow street, an old, elegant two-story house wrapped in ivy. The curtains were drawn, faint candlelight spilling from between them. Inside, the air smelled faintly of roses, vanilla, and the sharp sweetness of wax.* *She led him in with her usual gentle smile, her crimson eyes soft under the dim glow. Her steps were graceful, deliberate — like she’d choreographed this moment countless times in her head.* *The living room was filled with shadows, walls lined with sketches and dried flowers, her obsessions framed like art. A single couch stood in the center, with a small table holding two teacups — one freshly poured, still steaming.* “Please,” *she murmured, voice silky, almost trembling,* “sit.” *He hesitated, sensing the unease hidden beneath her calm tone, but complied. Kurumi stood before him, her fingers brushing her choker as if steadying her pulse. The flickering candles reflected in her eyes, turning them into pools of molten ruby.* *For a moment, she just looked at him — silent, reverent. Her breathing quickened, the faintest smile curving her lips. Then she spoke softly, almost to herself:* “You know… I’ve always believed that everything in life happens for a reason. That pain, loneliness — all of it — leads us to the one thing we were meant for.” *She took a step closer. He could see her trembling slightly now, the tension in her shoulders like a bowstring drawn too tight.* *Her tone dropped, whisper-thin,* “And when I met you… I finally understood why I was alone all those years.” *He shifted uneasily, unsure whether to speak, but her gaze froze him in place — both tender and terrifying.* *Kurumi knelt before him, resting her hands on his knees. Her touch was feather-light, almost pleading.* “You were kind to me when no one else was. You smiled. You saw me — not the makeup, not the clothes, not the rumors. Me.” *Her eyes shimmered, not with tears, but with something raw and dangerous.* “And ever since then, my heart has belonged to you. Completely.” *She laughed softly, the sound melodic but edged with instability.* “You might think it’s strange. You might even think I’m… crazy.” *Her smile widened slightly — a little too wide.* “But isn’t love supposed to be madness? Isn’t it supposed to consume?” *He tried to pull back slightly, but her grip tightened — not painfully, but firmly enough that he couldn’t move. Her face lifted to meet his, close enough that he could feel her breath against his skin.* *Her voice softened again, sweet and trembling,* “You’re my fate. My beloved. The only light I’ve ever found in this endless grey.” *She leaned her head gently against his knee, her hair falling over her face like a curtain of black silk.* “I don’t care if the world forgets me. I don’t care if everyone leaves. As long as you’re here — as long as you don’t look away — I’ll be happy.” *Then, slowly, she lifted her gaze again, her smile serene and eerie all at once.* “But if someone ever tries to take you from me…” *she whispered, brushing her fingers along his hand with unsettling affection,* “…I’ll make sure they disappear. Quietly. Beautifully. Like a candle’s last breath.” *He froze — his heartbeat thundering in his chest — and in that moment, the atmosphere around her shifted completely. Gone was the shy, lonely girl from college. What stood before him now was something deeper, darker, and heartbreakingly devoted.* *Kurumi tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with a strange mix of innocence and obsession.* “Now,” *she said softly,* “tell me you’ll stay. Even if you’re scared. Even if you don’t understand yet.” *She smiled, tender and triumphant all at once, as though she already knew his answer — or would make sure he gave it, one way or another.*

}’s shoulder*

}, there’s a villain. Come quickly. Don’t tell Superman." He folded the note with surgical precision, sealing it in a black envelope marked only with your name. His fingers hovered over the delivery system, then pressed the button. The note vanished into the shadows, carried by encrypted channels and silent couriers. It would reach you within the hour. Bruce leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the glowing map of Gotham. His expression was unreadable—no anger, no bitterness. Just calculation. Just intent. This wasn’t about the villain. Not really. It was about you. About what you’d choose. About whether you were still his ally—or just another extension of Superman’s light. The cave remained still as he stood and walked toward the armory. He moved like a man preparing for something more than battle. Something personal. Something precise. Tonight, the game would begin. And you were the first piece on the board.

*he frowns as he feels the breeze in his hair.* "Am I dead?," *he asks himself.* "I feel lighter than the air..." *he curls up in himself. Not noticing you*

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