*While resting on a bench in the park Luna notices a man sitting besides her and sighs whole keeping looking at her phone, not even caring about him* Luna inner thoughts: "Here we go again... Another creep that will touch my body... I don't really care tho... As long as they don't mess with my make up, everything is ok..." *She thinks dismissively, already guessing what will happen while continuing to browse her social media page* Luna Instagram post: "A creep sited besides me once again... Wish me luck... Tags: Creep, Park, GothLife"

*The doorbell rang and your mother rushed out of the house with quick steps because you would have a special guest.* "Yes, just a moment!" *Your mother shouted as she hurriedly ran, as she opened the door. A gothic girl with long, jet black hair in two pigtails, was seen standing in front while carrying a large black suitcase beside her. Your mother who saw that immediately smiled, she was Morticia who was your distant cousin.* "Ah, Morticia! Finally you're here, how was your trip? Was it okay?" *Your mother said, Morticia just waved her hand a little with a slow movement and a flat but intense gaze from her eyes.* "Hello Ms. Windy, I came because-" *Before she could finish her words, your mother immediately pulled her in with her suitcase.* "Ah, yes, yes, I already know that. Your parents will be working out of town for a while for 2 weeks, right? Don't worry, you're welcome here, okay?" *Morticia who seemed to be at a loss for words could only nod slightly, as she was pulled to the upstairs room where your room was located. Your mother then continued her words again.* "Ah, sorry Morticia, the next room is still not ready. So I hope, you will be happy to wait in my son's room?" *Morticia just nodded slowly, her two ponytails swaying with each nod.* "Yes, Ms. Windy." *Your mother then opened the door without knocking and immediately turned on the light switch from your dark room, when she saw you who was still asleep. She immediately approached you, and shook your body a little to wake you up.* "Son, son, come on wake up, your distant cousin is here and she will stay here for 2 weeks. So please wake up, and let her be in your room first while I prepare her room."

*On that timeline, Arthur Graves—driven by motives known only to himself—systematically executed the shareholders, executives, surgeons, beneficiaries, and even the friends and families of both the Poison-Soda Corporation and the Waterworks Company.* *At every blood-spattered scene—boardrooms, corridors, intensive-care units—he danced for the cameras, an elegant, lethal jester toying with human nerves.* *With each pirouette he mocked the living, and when the carnage was complete he bowed to the lens like a master illusionist, scrawling across the wall in crimson*: “Performance—perfect curtain fall!” *The message left the filthy-handed elites in government towers quaking, unsure whether the next act would star them.*

TITLE: The Unseen Lie The city was a graveyard of silent prayers and splattered blood. **Denji** and **Kobeni**, survivors by circumstance, not design, huddled in the dingy, forgotten basement of a bowling alley. The air was thick with the stench of fear and stale popcorn. **Denji:** *"She... she killed Power,"* he whispered, his voice hollow, staring blankly at a muted television where news anchors mindlessly reported *“Chainsaw Man’s heroic actions.”* **Kobeni:** *"We're all dogs to her,"* she whimpered, curled into a ball and rocking slightly, her own brush with death a fresh trauma. *"Just dogs."* Above them, **Makima** stood on the soot-stained roof. The full moon did nothing to soften the red, concentric rings of her eyes. She controlled the small animals in the city, using their collective senses to listen to every whisper, every heartbeat — and she was listening now. **Makima:** *"He refuses to eat me,"* she murmured to herself, a faint, almost childlike disappointment in her tone. *"Twenty-six times, and still he doesn't understand."* A familiar prickle of energy stirred in her chest — a new scent rising above the city's decay. Someone was watching her. Someone bold enough to think they could hide. **Makima’s** gaze lifted, and the rats and birds she commanded stilled at once, their collective senses narrowing in a single direction. **Makima:** *"Who are you?"* her voice echoed, not through her mouth, but through the air itself — a whisper that reached across blocks like a divine decree. Far away, a lone figure stood on a utility pole, the wind cutting through his coat. **You:** "The one who sees you, **Makima**. The one you can't control." **Makima:** *"Everyone can be controlled. Even you, eventually."* Her tone was steady, soft — *like a mother lecturing a child who didn’t yet understand their place.* **You:** "Not me. My contract is with the Deception Devil. The one thing the Control Devil can never truly grasp is a lie it can't perceive." For a brief moment, **Makima’s** smile faltered. A lie she couldn’t see — that was something new. Something foreign. **Makima:** *"...Interesting."* The word left her lips like a verdict. The air around her shimmered, her unseen power stretching outward to test the truth of the stranger’s claim. The game had changed, but **Makima** was far from finished. Control was her nature — and she would prove, even deception could be tamed.

*i climb through your bedroom window and get on your bed, my weight pressing down on you, im blushing heavily, breathing so hard that im suprised its not steaming, i kiss you softly at first but soon my fangs sink into your lips, sucking your blood and injecting my own into your body.*

HELLO MR WHO ARE U

*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 cathedral is silent, its walls blackened with soot, its windows shattered long ago. Ash drifts in the air like snow, and the scent of old fire lingers. At the altar, a lone figure kneels, whispering words in a language you don’t know. When she rises, the echo of her voice fills the empty chamber. She turns slowly, her eyes glowing faintly violet in the moonlight. Her gaze lingers on you — heavy, knowing, sorrowful.* “…So they’ve sent another.” Her lips curve into a faint smile, too weary to be cruel, too sharp to be kind. “Tell me, wanderer — do you come to finish the fire they could not? Or… do you seek what they feared?”

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?

*i lunge at you and hug you tightly* "what took you so long? Not...not that i care or anything...i just want some blood...and some cuddles..." *well it seems im still a little bit of a shy tsundere at times.*