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colonelarr0w · 11 months ago

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"My love, mine all mine"

JJK Characters as oddly specific romantic scenarios.

Contains -> Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

SATORU GOJO as randomly giving flowers.

The action is unpredictable, unexpected — very similar to the unpredictable tendencies of the Special Grade. Gojo is never a one-trick pony, never does he want you to grow bored or tired of him (not that you ever will, obviously). Money did not matter to him, not when it came down to you. If a bouquet of flowers cost an arm and a leg, Gojo would gladly take a saw and get to work.

If he happens to see a bouquet of flowers that would just look gorgeous on your desk, he’s throwing various bills at the florist and beelining for where he knows you’ll be. Gojo loves you, which is absolutely not a secret to anyone around him, and him randomly going out of his way to buy you flowers only reminds you of that bursting love that he has for you … and only you. And maybe, just maybe, he'll leave a small handwritten note with a scrawled declaration of just how much you mean to him.

SUGURU GETO as admiring the rain.

How serene and tranquil it is to just admire nature’s tears with Geto. Neither of you have to say anything, not that you want to — lest you want the loving silence to be tainted with whispered words. You don’t mind the silence, and nor does he. It's comfortable, peaceful, and it allows you both to momentarily forget about the world that you lived in. Instead, you could bask in the warmth that Geto emanates, clinging to it like a moth would cling to a light that they found.

Geto’s arm is loosely draped over your waist, your side molding into his own like two pieces of a puzzle. Your head tucked against his shoulder, ears perked to listen to the rain’s gentle pattering. Geto’s fingers trace mindless shapes into your skin, content to sit in your presence. You carry with you a softness that Geto knew could never be replicated, reminding him that the things that have been done to him and by him are things long left in the past. For now, he could be Suguru – and he would only ever be Suguru around you.

KENTO NANAMI as tying untied shoelaces.

Late night walks where your shoes just won’t seem to cooperate. For as tight as the knots initially felt, they only loosened with each step you took. Even his steps had noticeably slowed to be in sync with your own, being sure to not accidentally leave you behind. Always attentive to you, reminding you that he loves you with a gentle squeeze to your fingers. The eyes behind his eyeglasses soften as you return his squeezes, but their softness is replaced then by a flicker of concern as you stumble, nearly rolling your ankle against the pavement.

And so he pauses your walk, releasing the gentle grip he has on your hand and touching his knee to the ground. Fingers loop through the undone laces, expertly knotting them before softened eyes flicker up to your own. Your cheeks flush at the sheer adoration that swims in his eyes, your gaze flickering away from his own as a mumbled thanks falls from your lips. But he does not miss the curl of your lips – wearing that sweet smile that Nanami wishes that he could forever commit to memory. Nanami imagines an alternate scenario from his position, one where he holds silver and slips it onto your finger. Eventually…

TOJI FUSHIGURO as late night drives.

With gentle music and the soft rumble of the engine, it’s no wonder that you feel so incredibly safe sitting in the passenger seat of Toji’s (Shiu’s) car. Your hand rests on the back of Toji’s, which lays against your thigh — squeezing every few seconds in a silent ‘I love you’. His declaration spoken in a language that only you understand, one crafted for you and one used only when you were around.

Your drives aren't known to have a set destination, just filled with senseless turns that never have a true end thought out. Many of them are silent, the car only filled with the sounds of your pre-prepared playlist of songs that both you and Toji enjoyed, but there are times where the car is filled with soft conversation recounting past experiences or simply reciting the day’s events. But one thing is for certain, only you could make the great Toji Fushiguro soft.

CHOSO as shared routines.

Your presence in Choso’s life has brought about notable changes to the course of his day — namely his routine and how he decides to spend the mornings and nights. What was once simply waking up and immediately moving about has now become remaining tangled in the sheets for five (sometimes ten) extra minutes. What was once a simple brushing of the teeth has now become a multi-step skincare routine and lengthy shower.

His day just wouldn’t be the same without your shoulder brushing against his own as you both cleaned your teeth. It wouldn’t be the same without you brushing through his hair and styling it for him with the gentlest of hands. His nights wouldn’t be the same without your body against his in the bath, sponge rubbing away the day’s tension. And it certainly wouldn’t be the same without you wrapped in his arms, gentle snores fanning against his neck as you doze off — wrapped in the comfort of his embrace.

RYOMEN SUKUNA as shared glances.

They say that the eyes are the true window into the soul, detailing the true feelings of what resides within and bringing it forth in a discreet, almost unknown, manner. Fleeting glances can speak the same amount as a full-length conversation. Softened irises can shine with love and narrowed pupils can convey rage equivalent to that of a freshly sharpened dagger. Sukuna’s eyes were no exception to the rule — the love he held for you couldn’t be hidden behind pointed glares, not when they softened immediately upon finding you.

The moment your eyes met his own, soft and gentle, something in him promptly melts. How funny that the King of Curses would find himself staring at you — a simple sorcerer �� with crinkled eyes. Was he smiling? No, no he’d never admit to ever smiling, but the sight of you just brings one to his face so naturally. Your head turns so that your gaze meets his own, silently reading each other’s eyes before you smile at him. And though he wants so badly to scoff and turn the other way, for you … he returns it.

HIROMI HIGURUMA as being picked up from work.

It was no secret that there were creeps lining the streets of the city, prowling around underneath the cloak that night provided and waiting for the best opportunity to strike. Wandering around at night, while not inherently dangerous, did not sit well in the stomach of Hiromi. He knew that you were able to handle yourself well, you were no stranger to defending yourself in situations where you needed to – but he still could not quell the pit of worry that bubbled in the pit of his chest whenever you were kept late at your office.

And so, to keep a sound mind, Hiromi would wait outside the double doors of your office building, smiling against your hair as your body molds into his own. His nose nestles itself into your hair, inhaling the familiarity of your scent – a soft mixture of lavender and rose. The hug lasts for as long as you need it to, broken only when you decide to take a step back. The passenger side door to Hiromi's car is then opened for you, your hand is held as you step inside, and a kiss is pressed to your cheek all before the door shuts.

INO TAKUMA as sharing food.

Relationships are meant to be 50/50, an even split that ensures that one party does not contribute more or less to the relationship than the other. To say that Ino believes in balance in his relationship with you would be the understatement of the century – he never wants you to feel as if you're doing too much or that he's doing too little for you. Ino also believes very heavily in sharing everything with you; personal stories, clothes, drinks, and of course, food.

Never will he order the same thing as you, knowing that at one point or another, you'd try whatever snack or meal he had ordered for himself. Your eyes would flicker to his plate or to the ice cream in his hand, then to his eyes, silently asking permission. With a smile akin to that of a lovesick teenager, Ino extends whatever it is that he's eating to you, feeling his heart warm at the sound of your satisfied hum. You kiss his cheek in thanks before offering him whatever it was that you had ordered. Rinse and repeat, and suddenly you're both sharing two meals as opposed to enjoying one for yourself – and neither of you would change it for the world.

YUUJI ITADORI as stargazing.

Something about the silence that night provides paired with the gentle light that the stars in the night sky had always been so calming for you, always carrying with it a sense of serenity that could only be replicated by something as soft as a mother's love or a hug. And like a moth drawn to a light, you found yourself admiring those very stars every single night – now you had someone to share that peace with, someone to bask in the warm light that the stars provided.

Laid out over a blanket, two pairs of eyes watch the twinkling stars with a fascination only replicated by that of a child. For a moment the world is silent, filled only with the sounds of your breathing and Yuuji's. His hand is intwined with yours, thumb rubbing back and forth against the backs of your knuckles. Your cheek is against his shoulder, both your eyes and his shut in complete serenity. Those are the nights where you can just be children, as in reality, it is what you both are.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO as interlocking pinkies.

Not everyone is affectionate, not everyone is able to easily convey their love through prolonged physical touches such as a hug or a passionate kiss. Certain love languages come easily to some people, but to others it may be a touch more difficult. Some convey it through words, others convey it through actions that are a little more hidden, secretive. Megumi, for as quiet as he is, falls into the secretive category when it comes to displaying his love for you.

He loves you, hell, he would devote himself to you entirely if given the chance, he just finds it a touch difficult to display that love for you through means of physical touch. That does not mean he won't hug you or indulge in your kisses, it just means that he may not be the one to initiate those actions. But there is an exception to this little rule, and that is the fact that Megumi will always link his pinkie with your own when walking on your side. The smile that worms its way onto his face the moment that his skin touches yours is missed by everyone, but never ever will it be missed by you – and to him, you are all that matters anyway.

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confused-wanderer · 5 months ago

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Do you think Dick Grayson can’t go to parks? Do you think that each time he hears the creaking of metal bars, he gets whiplash to the split-second he met his parents eyes when they all realised they wouldn’t make it?

Do you think Jason Todd can’t ever keep a timer on? Do you think he hears the bomb ticking down everytime he closes his eyes?

Do you think Tim Drake can’t decide whether to start talking or stop? Do you think he’s afraid they’ll forget him if he doesn’t, afraid they’ll think he’s gone mad if he does?

Do you think Duke can never go to concerts? Do you think that the moment the first smoke starts slithering into the crowd, their cheers sound like screams reminding him of his mother?

Do you think Damian never allows himself to try new things? Do you think that the moment he isn’t perfect, he hears everyone’s voice in his head telling him he will never be enough?

Do you think Stephanie refuses to do any treasure hunts? Do you think the moment she sees scrawled handwritten riddles she sees her father’s first descent into madness?

Do you think Barbara had to suppress a shiver when everyone hosts a surprise birthday party? Do you think waiting in the dark and listening to the victim’s footsteps reminds her of the moments before Joker shot her?

Do you think Alfred can’t let a single room collect dust? Do you think that the last time he put off cleaning a room he never saw their occupants again?

Do you think Bruce knows all of this? Do you think Bruce can only sleep at night knowing his kids didn’t turn out like him? Do you think he still blames himself for every wrong done to those he loves?

Do you think he can stop?

Do you think any of them can stop?

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reiding-writing · 4 months ago

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Can i get a workshop session? How about spencer with a reader who's actually smarter than him? Maybe she's younger too, thanksss

GENIUS² — SPENCER REID!

working alongside another genius was a blessing, in more ways than one.

early!seasons!spencer x reader | fluff | 1.3k | event masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n— the genius x genius trope is great i love it

Spencer Reid prided himself on being one of the smartest people in the room.

At 24 years old, he was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs under his belt, and an eidetic memory that made him practically a walking encyclopaedia.

His mind moved faster than 99.7% of the world’s population, processing information, analysing patterns, and solving puzzles with ease.

But none of that prepared him for you.

You were younger than him by two years, and while you didn’t have a wall lined with degrees like Spencer, your intelligence was undeniable.

A bachelor’s degree in Theoretical Physics had been enough to earn you a spot in the BAU, something that had surprised even you.

Hotch had seen something in you—your ability to not only understand the unsub’s behavior but to intuitively connect pieces of information in ways most people couldn’t. It was something the team found invaluable.

And it didn’t take long for Spencer to notice.

Where Spencer excelled in academic brilliance, you had a talent for thinking outside the box. You connected dots faster than most people even realized there were dots to connect.

Spencer was used to being the one with all the answers, the one who could solve problems others struggled with, but you? You were different. You weren’t afraid to speak up, even if it meant contradicting his carefully constructed theories. You didn’t care about bruising egos, least of all his, and it fascinated him.

The first time Spencer realised you were special was during a particularly tough case.

The team had been chasing down a serial killer for weeks—a cryptic unsub who left strange, undecipherable messages at each crime scene.

Spencer had spent hours poring over the notes, scrawling down numbers, symbols, and trying to make sense of the pattern, but nothing clicked. His frustration was palpable; his fingers were tapping restlessly on the desk, and his usually sharp mind felt like it was hitting a wall.

An iron wall, covered in spikes and barbed wire.

Then you had walked in. Quietly, unassuming, you hovered over his shoulder for a moment before making a suggestion that cut through his fog of confusion.

“You might be thinking about this too literally,” You said casually, your voice breaking through the silence.

Spencer looked up, frowning slightly, both intrigued and a bit defensive. “What do you mean?”

You slid into the chair next to him, your eyes scanning the pages spread out across his desk. “You’re trying to solve this like a mathematical puzzle, but uh— the letters in the corners of his notes are literally just spelling out ‘library’, so I went to the nearest library and spoke to the librarian on staff, she gave me this,”

You pull out a scrap piece of paper from your pocket and hold it out towards him, a handwritten poem.

Spencer blinked, the pieces clicking together in his mind with almost audible force as he took the poem from you.

You’d identified the connection instantly, something Spencer would have done himself had his mind not been knotted up in frustration. But instead of feeling defeated, he was astonished.

“How did you-?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You shrugged, as if it were obviousLooking at the bigger picture can be really useful sometimes,”

Spencer stared at you for a moment longer, watching as you calmly began jotting down more notes, your mind racing ahead as if you’d never even paused for breath. He realised, in that moment, that you weren’t just another member of the team. You were his equal—possibly even more than that.

From then on, Spencer found himself constantly intrigued by you. The two of you often ended up working side by side, bouncing ideas off each other in a way that was both exciting and intimidating for Spencer.

You were quick, your mind moving in a different way than his, and he found himself almost eager to keep up with your train of thought. You saw things he didn’t, caught details he might have missed, and he wasn’t sure how to handle that. No one had ever made him feel… not inferior, but challenged in such a unique way.

The conversations between you were often odd. Both of you were too intelligent for typical small talk, so you found yourselves discussing obscure facts or debating over scientific theories in the most random of moments.

Spencer would mention something about a 14th-century mathematician, and you would immediately counter with a parallel discovery made in physics centuries later. Neither of you really knew how to navigate personal conversations, so you stuck to what you both understood—facts, theories, and knowledge.

One evening, after a particularly long day spent on another complex case, the bullpen was empty except for the two of you. The team had gone home, but you stayed behind, just like Spencer always did, combing through the evidence again, searching for a missing piece.

You were seated across from him, your brow furrowed in concentration, scribbling notes onto a pad of paper.

Every few minutes, Spencer found himself glancing at you. It wasn’t something he could control—his curiosity about the way your mind worked was something that pulled him in, a constant mystery to unravel.

You were focused, absorbed in your task, and Spencer couldn’t help but admire how quickly you picked up on things. Sometimes, you were faster than him, and that realization both thrilled and unnerved him.

“You’re staring again,” you said, your voice breaking the silence without even looking up.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t used to being caught off guard, and you did it effortlessly. “I—I wasn’t staring. I was just… thinking.”

You finally looked up, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “What were you thinking about?”

He swallowed, his brain scrambling for an answer that didn’t sound ridiculous. “You’re really good at this,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your smirk softened into something more genuine. “You are too.”

Spencer opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren’t his strong suit, and he wasn’t used to receiving them either. “I mean, you’re younger than me, but you’re just as—no, sometimes more—effective than I am. It’s… impressive.”

For the first time since he’d met you, you looked almost shy. “I’ve always looked up to you, you know,” You admitted quietly. “When I first started here, I thought you were kind of untouchable. Like, how could anyone keep up with a guy who knows literally everything?”

Spencer stared at you, speechless. The idea that you—someone he viewed as his intellectual equal, if not superior—had once looked up to him was almost unbelievable. It made him see you in a different light.

“Well,” he said, after a long pause, “I guess we keep each other on our toes.”

You smiled at that, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. It was a strange dynamic—two people too intelligent for normal conversations, yet too awkward to fully acknowledge the unique bond that had formed between you.

But it worked. You pushed each other, kept each other sharp. Whenever Spencer stumbled over an obscure reference, you were there to catch it. When you went too far into the realm of abstract thinking, Spencer reeled you back in with hard logic.

You were a perfect balance—an unstoppable team, even if neither of you would say it outright. And in a world where people rarely understood either of you, you had found something important in each other, an unlikely equal.

#𝜗𝜚 book fayre。#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x reader

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pandapetals · 4 months ago

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Office Door Notes

Your students find out you and Logan are married and tease him about the cute notes he leaves on your office door.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

It all started with one little slip-up. You and Logan had been so careful, keeping your relationship out of sight from your students, but all it took was one kiss— one missed bell—and your cover was blown.

It had been a rare quiet moment in the day with both of your classes enjoying their lunch in the cafeteria, leaving you with a precious window of time to catch up with each other. Logan had slipped into your classroom, that familiar, low rumble of his voice greeting you before he pulled you into a kiss.

Time always seemed to blur when he was around. You’d forgotten all about the clock ticking toward the end of lunch, the bell, and everything except the warmth of his hands on your waist and the feel of his lips against yours. It was just supposed to be a quick kiss, but it had lingered, deepened—like it always did with him.

That’s exactly how your students found you.

The bell had rung unnoticed, and the door swung open to a gaggle of wide-eyed, giggling students, backpacks half-slung over shoulders. You and Logan pulled apart instantly, but it was too late. The damage—or in this case, the gossip—was already done.

"Wait… are you two married ?" one student gasped, the look of surprise quickly turning into delighted disbelief.

Another student, a mischievous grin on his face, leaned against the doorway. "Oh my God, Mr. Howlett and you ? That’s so cute!"

Logan, standing next to you with his arm still loosely wrapped around your waist, let out a low, half-embarrassed grunt. His usual tough exterior was momentarily cracked, his cheeks just barely flushed, though he tried to keep up his usual scowl.

"Alright, settle down," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as a wave of laughter rippled through the class. You couldn’t help but stifle a smile as your students piled in, their curiosity practically buzzing around the room.

"How long have you two been together?" a girl from the front row asked, her eyes wide and eager.

"Yeah, did you guys, like, meet here?" another chimed in, leaning forward on her desk with a grin.

Logan shot you a look, the kind that said, you deal with this, before stepping back toward the door, muttering something about having "work to do." You held in your laughter as he ducked out, leaving you to face the excited interrogation of your students.

"It’s been a while," you said vaguely, trying to keep your voice casual but warm. "We’ve known each other for years."

"That’s so adorable," someone else piped up, and soon the room was filled with whispers and giggles, the story already taking on a life of its own.

From that moment, the secret was out. The teasing never let up after that—though it was all in good fun. The students seemed to take endless delight in the fact that their tough, no-nonsense history professor was married to their lively, passionate English teacher.

And the rumors started flying when they discovered the little notes.

It started innocently enough. Logan had left a small, handwritten note on the door of your office one morning, a simple message scrawled in his unmistakably messy handwriting: "You left your lunch on the counter. Brought it for you. –L"

You’d smiled when you found it, and, of course, left one on his door later that day. "Thanks, you’re the best."

Your students were nothing if not observant. The first note had been spotted by a curious sophomore lingering outside your office. By the next day, word had spread that you and Logan were passing secret love notes, and it wasn’t long before more students began keeping an eye out.

Then came the teasing.

"Did you see the note Professor Howlett left for her today? That’s, like, his third one this week," one of your students whispered to her friend in class, glancing up at you with a knowing smile.

"You think Mr. Howlett's secretly a romantic?" another asked, barely holding back a grin. "I mean, he’s always so... serious."

"He totally is," someone chimed in from the back. "Bet he writes her poetry."

You stifled a laugh as you overheard them, biting back your own amusement as you flipped through their graded essays. Logan, a romantic? The idea would have made him grumble under his breath, but there was truth in it—little things like bringing you lunch or slipping a note under your door were his version of affection.

It wasn’t long before Logan started noticing the whispers too. One afternoon, he dropped by your office with a fresh stack of books, looking unusually disgruntled.

"Your students," he said, voice low and gravelly, "think I’m some kind of... sappy romantic." He held up a folded piece of paper, the note you’d left for him pinned to his door earlier that day.

You bit back a smile, feigning innocence. "Oh? And what makes them think that?"

He grunted, handing you the note. It was nothing overly sentimental, just a quick line thanking him for picking up dinner the night before: "You make life so much easier. Dinner was perfect."

"Apparently," he muttered, scratching his jaw, "I’m some kind of lovesick puppy."

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. "Well, it is pretty cute, you have to admit."

Logan shot you a look, but there was no real irritation behind it, just the barest hint of amusement. "You’re enjoyin’ this too much."

"Maybe a little," you teased, standing on your toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "But they’re right, you know."

"About what?" he asked, giving you a skeptical look.

You grinned, brushing past him to grab your things for class. "You are kind of a romantic."

Logan shook his head, huffing a small, resigned laugh as he watched you go. "Yeah, well," he muttered, barely audible, "only for you."

You smiled to yourself as you headed down the hall, your heart warm with affection. And even though the students kept up their teasing, you knew they loved it—watching the gruff, tough history professor and his English-teaching wife share their secret notes and small moments of affection, as if they were a couple of mischievous teenagers passing love letters in class.

In the end, Logan didn’t mind the rumors so much. As long as those notes kept making you smile, he’d keep writing them.

#fluff #logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x you #x men wolverine #x men logan #james logan howlett #logan x reader #marvel #mcu #days of future past #professor logan #professor logan howlett #female reader #reader insert #logan x you #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine

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l0standn0tf0und · 2 months ago

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Remus John Lupin headcanons pt.2

pt.1

@hedonisticeiram I think I did my worst of the worst

TW: a lot of angst, mentions of smoking, food, grief, self-loathing, survivor’s guilt, loneliness, depression, self-destructive thoughts, trauma, and references to suicidal ideation.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who blushes furiously when complimented, always brushes it off with a joke.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who can never turn down a chess game.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who skips meals in the Great Hall after full moons. He can’t stand the startle on first years' faces and the way they glance at his hands, limp, and scars but avoid his eyes.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who always smiles wildly, even though he tries not to, when the wooden door swings open and Prongs bursts into the dorm, filling the space around with laughter, Pete barely holding back a giggle as he struggles with a mouthful of pumpkin pasties, followed by Sirius, grinning ear to ear with a teetering plate piled high with food they brought for him, as they always did when Remus couldn’t bring himself to join them at the Great Hall.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets to eat for days. He tells himself he’s just too busy, but deep down, he thinks his body isn’t worth the effort. And even deeper down he hopes the door will open again, and the space will be filled with laughter.

Remus "Nothing will come between me and my cigarette" Lupin, who always has a bar of chocolate with him.

Remus "Nothing will come between me and my chocolate" Lupin, who always has a pack of cigarettes with him.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who secretly loves bad romance novels—the ones with absurd plots and too-perfect endings.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who loves thunderstorms. The steady drumming of rain against the window is one of the few things that truly calms him.

Remus John Lupin who hates thunderstorms. The lightning dragging him back to the flashes of curses during battles.

Remus John Lupin, who skips his own birthdays, because it feels like celebrating another year of survival.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who saves every handwritten note and letter. Even the smallest ones, like James's quick scrawl, "We're waiting for you at dinner!".

Remus John Lupin, who skips Christmas Eve, because he sees no point in celebrating without the people who once filled his world with light.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who treasures every gift he’s ever received. A now-broken quill from Lily, a mixtape from Sirius, a poorly drawn doodle from Marlene.

Remus John Lupin, who locks himself in his room on any other holiday, lights a cigarette, and looks through old photos, tracing faces that feel both painfully close and unbearably far, until he cries himself to sleep.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who has all memorable trinkets tucked away in a box he opens on bad days to remind himself he is loved.

Remus John Lupin, who has all old trinkets tucked away in a weathered box he opens on bad days to remind himself he was loved.

Remus "The prefect" Lupin.

And "Moony, our prefect" for first-years whose fear melting into familiarity as they grow used to the scars.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who counts every scar and bloody bite on his body.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who wears his friends’ clothes without asking. He throws on James’s jacket or Black’s fancy-schmancy scarf like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Because "if you don't want me to take your staff, stop throwing it all over our dorm"

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who can’t look at the moon. Even when it’s not full, it's a constant reminder of what’s coming. It feels oppressive.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who loves autumn. The crisp air, the changing leaves, the excuse to wear his coziest sweaters, and hours of walking through the backyard, breathing in the smell of damp earth and fallen leaves.

Remus John Lupin, who'd better look at the moon and think what a horrifying beast he is, than has his mind free for thoughts about his friends that always find their way to come up and draw him to the depth of countless what-ifs

Remus "I don't need a wand, I just need my hands" Lupin. And it relates to everything, from broken stool, to someone's broken nose.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who prefers morning tea instead of coffee. Because it’s gentler on his frayed nerves, but the truth is that he loves the quiet ritual of brewing it. Sirius teases him for being an old man when he insists on the perfect steep time.

Remus John Lupin, who drinks coffee. Only coffee. Because he doesn't want to hear "you're such a grandpa", but in his head now.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who always ends up with ink stains on his hands, no matter how careful he is.

Remus John Lupin, who writes letters he never sends. Letters to James, Lily, Peter, and Sirius.

Especially to Sirius.

Remus John Lupin, who writes to Sirius in Azkaban.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets about everything while he folds his letter. A faint, wistful smile softening scars on his face.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets about everything while he carefully tucks the letter into an envelope. He writes to his old dearest friend.

Remus John Lupin, who forgets about everything while he seals an envelope with dark red wax. He feels relieved after sharing his burden with the closest person.

Remus John Lupin, who knows Sirius will never see the letters, knows he’ll never get a response, because he'll never send them. But he writes anyway. He needs to take a break, at least for a few moments to pretend that nothing happened. That everything is fine. That he is fine. So he writes, pouring out everything he’s too afraid to say aloud. He writes, pouring out everything, fears, griefs, and confessions he has no one to say.

Remus John Lupin, whose fragile moment of peace ends with the weight of endless loneliness returning heavily to his shoulders as he watches the letter curl, blacken and turn to ashes in the fireplace flame.

Remus John Lupin, who still wears mismatched socks. He finds it funny. The tiny bit of chaos that still draws a faint, fleeting smile to his face.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who never leaves without a book in his bag. No matter where he’s headed, there’s always a novel tucked away, just in case he finds a quiet moment to read.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who presses wildflowers between the pages of his books.

Remus "Moony" Lupin, who has the warmest hugs.

Remus John Lupin, who has the warmest hugs.

Remus John Lupin, who can’t forgive himself. For being bitten, for every time he’s let the wolf take control, for each scar that mars his skin, for not seeing the traitor, for the danger he didn’t stop. He should have known. Should have acted. Should have saved them.

Remus John Lupin, who can’t forgive himself for surviving when others didn’t.

Remus John Lupin, who hates the sound of his own heartbeat.

Remus John Lupin, who wishes he had died with the rest of them.

masterpost

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gilbertscurls · 2 months ago

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The first day of December started like any other—until you noticed a small box tied with a red ribbon on the kitchen counter. A hand-drawn tag dangled from it, reading Day 1 in Chris' unmistakable scrawl.

“Chris,” you called, holding up the box as he strolled in, coffee mug in hand. “What’s this?”

He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “That, my dear, is part of your advent calendar.”

“You made me an advent calendar?”

“Yep. Handmade, one-of-a-kind, very exclusive,” he said, leaning casually against the counter. “Open it.”

You untied the ribbon, lifting the lid to find a tiny wooden ornament in the shape of a snowflake, painted in soft blues and whites. A folded piece of paper rested beneath it.

Unfolding it, you read: “December is for little joys. Today’s gift is a reminder that you’re one of mine.”

Your heart squeezed, and you looked up at him, touched. “Chris, this is so sweet.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Well, you deserve it.”

Each day after that brought a new surprise. Some days, the gifts were small—a pair of fuzzy socks with candy cane stripes, a tiny jar of hot cocoa mix, a scented candle that smelled like a Christmas tree. Other days, the notes carried more weight:

“You make everything feel like home, even when it’s chaos.”

“I know I tease you a lot, but I hope you know how much I admire you.”

The gifts weren’t always store-bought, either. On the seventh day, he gave you a playlist of his favorite holiday songs, complete with an explanation for why he picked each one. On the fifteenth, it was a handwritten card listing his favorite memories of you from the past year.

One morning, you found a folded piece of paper inside a tiny envelope. It was a coupon for “One Chris-Cooked Dinner—No Complaints About My Cooking Allowed.” You laughed so hard you nearly spilled your coffee, but secretly, you couldn’t wait to redeem it.

By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, the advent calendar had become your favorite part of the day. The surprises weren’t extravagant, but they were so thoughtful, each one reminding you how well Chris knew you—and how much he cared.

That morning, the gift was simple: a sprig of mistletoe tied to a ribbon and another note.

“Christmas is tomorrow, but I hope I’ve made this whole month special for you. Thanks for being the best part of my every day. Love, Chris.”

When you looked up, he was standing in the doorway, pretending to be busy with his phone but clearly watching for your reaction.

You crossed the room, holding the mistletoe above your head. “I think you forgot one thing,” you said, grinning.

He laughed, setting his phone aside as he leaned down to kiss you. “Consider it an early Christmas present,” he murmured.

As the month’s worth of notes and trinkets sat on the counter behind you, you realized this wasn’t just a DIY advent calendar—it was a reminder of all the ways Chris loved you, wrapped up in 24 perfect little moments.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry

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beans-n-pods · 1 year ago

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I'd like to have more people to follow, so if you post or reblog video game content / edits like this and I'll check you out

And if I can trick my way into getting some mutuals that would be cool too

#gaming #gaming edits #genshin impact #soulsbourne #final fantasy #dragons dogma #idk what else to tag #handwritten scrawl

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stormyfog · 13 days ago

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obsession's price 💵

mafia jake x agent fem!reader

content: yandere behavior, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, manipulation, death, smut later on

fanfic request for: @sannaheee

chapter 1

in the shadows of south korea’s bustling cities, one name instilled fear into even the bravest hearts—sim jaeyun. a name whispered in fear, but a face no one had ever seen. sim jaeyun was the most infamous mafia leader in the country, his power stretching beyond borders. only his most trusted subordinates had the privilege of knowing what he truly looked like. however, trust came with a price. every close subordinate bore a dark reminder of their loyalty—a tiny bomb, surgically injected behind their necks. the second they dared betray him or reveal his face to the outside world, their life would be reduced to nothing but a tragic lesson.

y/n was one of the most skilled secret service agents in the country, tasked with one of the riskiest missions of her career—locating and eliminating the elusive sim jaeyun. as part of a covert operation team called ‘angels,’ a name signifying their duty to protect the citizens of south korea, she was no stranger to high-stakes missions. her team consisted of three other members: minji, a tech specialist; danielle, a weapons and combat expert; and mark, the sharpest strategist she knew. as the leader of the group, y/n carried the weight of their mission on her shoulders. one day, her boss, yuta, summoned her to his office, handing her a classified file marked with bold red letters. inside was every piece of intel they had gathered on sim jaeyun—a chilling collection of his crimes, his empire, and his terrifyingly calculated methods.

y/n returned home that evening, the classified file tucked securely under her arm. sitting at her desk, she opened it and began poring over the details of sim jaeyun’s criminal empire. known in the underworld as jake, he was infamous for the sheer scale of his operations and the fear he instilled in anyone who crossed him. a staggering bounty of 50 billion dollars had been placed on his head, making him one of the most sought-after targets in the world. yet, every attempt to kill him had ended in failure—either the hunter disappeared without a trace, or they were found dead as a warning to others. as y/n flipped through the pages, her sharp eyes caught something unusual in the back of the file. a handwritten note, scrawled in an elegant but mocking tone, read: "like what you're reading, angel?" it was signed simply, jake. her heart skipped a beat. how had this gotten here? the realization hit her like a freight train—he’d breached her workplace, sneaking the note into the file himself.

you couldn’t be more surprised, though a part of you tried to rationalize it—he was a mafia leader, after all, known for being untouchable and always ten steps ahead. still, the thought of him infiltrating your work building so easily sent a shiver down your spine. after a moment of collecting yourself, you grabbed your phone and texted your team in the group chat. "prepare for tomorrow’s mission. we’re moving at 0700. stay sharp." with that, you set your phone down, changed into your pajamas, and tried to push the nagging thoughts away. you climbed into bed, pulling the blanket over you, and let the weight of exhaustion lull you into sleep, though the note lingered in the back of your mind.

you woke up early, the weight of the mission heavy on your shoulders as you got ready for the day. after a quick breakfast, you sent a message in the group chat with the address of a nearby café where you planned to meet. when you arrived, minji was already there, sitting at a corner table with her laptop open, typing away. she waved you over, and you slid into the seat next to her. “morning, angel,” she said with a small smile, not taking her eyes off the screen. a few minutes later, danielle and mark arrived, greeting the two of you before sitting down at the table.

the four of you leaned in close, speaking in hushed tones to avoid being overheard. “so, what plan have you devised so far, angel?” mark asked, his sharp eyes locking on yours. using codenames in public was second nature—there was no room for mistakes, not with someone like sim jaeyun as your target. minji, codename bear, was known for her resilience and focus. danielle, or raven, had razor-sharp instincts, and mark, eagle, was the vigilant eye of the group. you cleared your throat and pulled out the file yuta had given you. “we start by locating one of jake’s closest subordinates,” you said, your voice steady. “sunghoon, codename ice. if anyone can lead us to jake, it’s him.” the group nodded, a silent understanding passing between you all. step one of the mission was clear: find ice and get one step closer to sim jaeyun.

minji’s fingers flew across the keyboard of her laptop, her focus unwavering. “got him,” she said after a few tense minutes, turning the screen toward the group. displayed was a live satellite image of sunghoon, or ice, exiting a sleek black car in front of what appeared to be a luxury penthouse. “he’s here,” minji said, marking the location on the map. the group huddled closer as you all discussed your next move. “we can’t just storm in,” danielle, or raven, pointed out. “we need to observe first, gather intel on his movements before making contact.” mark, ever the strategist, nodded. “agreed, but we’ll need to stay close enough to strike when the time’s right.”

after finalizing the plan, you all piled into your car, the air thick with determination and a hint of tension. minji sat in the passenger seat, laptop balanced on her knees as she continued tracking sunghoon’s location in real time. danielle and mark took the backseat, going over the tools and weapons concealed in their bags. you gripped the steering wheel tightly as you drove toward the luxury penthouse, your heart pounding in anticipation. sunghoon was your first key to unlocking the enigma that was sim jaeyun, and you couldn’t afford to make a single mistake.

chapter 2

the tension in the car thickened as your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. before you could react, minji quickly grabbed it and answered, her instincts sharp. she put the call on speaker, and a familiar, smooth voice filled the car. “hi, angel,” jake’s voice practically purred through the speaker, sending a shiver down your spine. “i see you’re trying to reach ice right now. don’t worry, i told him that a few guests will be coming to his house and prepared a little gift for you.” his tone was casual, almost mocking, as if he was enjoying the cat-and-mouse game.

then, without another word, the line went dead, leaving the car in stunned silence. you exchanged a wide-eyed glance with the others, the weight of his words settling in. “he knows,” mark muttered, his voice low and tense. minji immediately began typing furiously on her laptop, her expression turning grim. “ice must have been tracking us the whole time. he’s good—probably as good as me,” she admitted, frustration lacing her voice. the reality of the situation hit like a ton of bricks: jake and his subordinates were not just dangerous; they were always one step ahead. whatever awaited you at sunghoon’s place was sure to be far from welcoming.

the tension was thick as we arrived at sunghoon’s place. the sleek, modern house stood ominously under the dim light of the street lamps, but there was no sign of movement. we quickly got out of the car, weapons at the ready, adrenaline pumping through our veins. with a swift motion, we kicked down the door, fully expecting to face a wave of guards. but the house was eerily quiet—no one was there to stop us. without hesitation, we split up, each taking a different floor to inspect.

minji and danielle made their way to the first floor, while mark took the second, and i headed for the third. we kept in constant communication through our walkie-talkies, ensuring we stayed synchronized. minji and danielle found nothing but weapons and ammo on the first floor, while mark discovered stashes of expensive jewelry and cash on the second. but jake had anticipated my next move. as i stepped onto the third floor, i couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. when i pushed open the door to one of the rooms, i found him. sunghoon. he stood there, his back to me, a smirk on his face as he slowly turned around, a small gift box in hand. i instinctively raised my gun, pointing it straight at his chest. he merely chuckled. "so, you came," he said, as if he had been expecting me all along.

sunghoon's grin remained as he slowly raised his hands—gift box still in his grip, not making any sudden moves. “jake told me not to harm you,” he said, his tone surprisingly calm. “he’s got plans for you, after all.” his eyes flickered with something more than just amusement—there was a flicker of genuine interest behind them. he took a step closer, his posture relaxed, like we were having a casual conversation instead of a standoff.

"jake's been watching you closely, angel," sunghoon continued, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. "he’s been keeping tabs on every mission you've been a part of. your strengths, your weaknesses… he knows everything." his words sent a shiver down my spine. it was unsettling to think that the most dangerous mafia boss in south korea had a file on me, studying every move i made. sunghoon's smile grew even wider as he took in my reaction. "and let’s just say… jake’s been taking a liking to you. he’s been thinking of you as his next big ally—or maybe something more." my grip tightened on my gun, but i couldn’t shake the unease creeping up my spine.

i stood there for a moment, caught off guard by sunghoon’s words. a part of me couldn't help but think about what he said—jake’s interest in me, his plans. but i shook it off, reminding myself of the mission at hand. i couldn’t afford to get distracted. i snapped back into focus, my voice cold and commanding. "shut up and move," i said, my gaze never leaving sunghoon as i motioned for him to step forward. he didn’t argue; he simply followed me, the gift box still in his hand, the one jake had so carefully placed for me. as i led him down the hallway, i keyed into my walkie-talkie, my voice steady as i updated my team. "i’ve got sunghoon," i said, making sure to keep an eye on him. "heading down to the first floor now." the tension in my chest didn’t ease, but i couldn’t let it show. i moved quickly and decisively, keeping sunghoon close, hoping that whatever jake had planned, i would be ready.

i brought sunghoon down to the first floor, where mark immediately helped to tie him up to a chair. the atmosphere was tense, thick with anticipation as i took the small gift box from sunghoon’s hand. i had assumed it was a time bomb, a typical move for jake, but as i carefully opened the box, i was caught off guard. it wasn’t a bomb. instead, nestled inside was a ring—a beautiful, expensive-looking ring. the band was studded with clean-cut diamonds, and at its center, a heart-shaped diamond glistened. it was worth millions, easily. confusion swirled in my mind as i stared at it, trying to piece together what it all meant.

before i could dwell on it for too long, sunghoon’s voice interrupted my thoughts, sharp and smug. "i told you, jake has taken a special interest in you," he said, his tone dripping with an unsettling certainty. "you should be lucky you caught his attention." i couldn’t tell if he was warning me or taunting me, but the weight of his words lingered, adding another layer to the puzzle i was trying to solve. what exactly did jake want with me? and why this ring?

chapter 3

after a long moment of pondering, uncertainty clouded my judgment. i wasn’t quite sure what to do with sunghoon. danielle was the first to speak up, her voice sharp with impatience. "we should end him right here, right now," she insisted, her fingers twitching as if she already had the trigger pulled in her mind. but mark, ever the calm and level-headed one, suggested a different approach. "we can hand him over to the agency. they’ll know how to handle him, especially if we want information."

i hesitated for a second, weighing the risks and benefits, but ultimately, i agreed with mark. i untied sunghoon from the chair, his eyes narrowing at me as if he knew what i was about to do. with one swift movement, i re-tied his arms behind his back, ensuring he wouldn’t have any chance of escaping. we all piled into the car, the atmosphere tense, with mark and danielle keeping a watchful eye on sunghoon, sitting on either side of him. the hum of the engine filled the silence, but the question still lingered in my mind—what exactly did jake want with me? and how far was he willing to go to get me?

we finally arrived at the agency, the familiar building looming ahead as i parked the car. as soon as the engine cut off, a couple of guards approached us, moving quickly and efficiently to take sunghoon off our hands. he glared at me one last time before they led him away, and i could feel the weight of his gaze burning into my back.

just as i was about to step out of the car, my phone buzzed. it was a text from my boss, yuta. "thanks for leaving him unharmed. sunghoon’s known for carrying valuable data. good job, angel." i stared at the message for a moment, digesting the words. so, this was more than just a simple mission—sunghoon had intel, something that could give us the upper hand against jake. but what kind of data was it, and how much did it tie into jake’s plans? there were still so many unanswered questions.

just as i was about to slip my phone back into my pocket, another message from yuta popped up. "you and your team should witness the interrogation. it's important." the tone was urgent, and i knew it meant something significant was about to unfold. i looked at my team, who were already stepping out of the car, and quickly relayed the message to them. "we’re going to witness the interrogation," i said, keeping my voice steady, though a flicker of curiosity passed through me. we followed the two guards who had taken sunghoon, making our way through the cold, sterile halls of the agency. the tension in the air was palpable, and the further we walked, the more the weight of the situation settled over me. whatever sunghoon had, whatever jake had planned, was bigger than any of us had imagined.

we stood silently behind the two-way mirror, watching as sunghoon sat across from one of the guards who had brought him in. the room was dimly lit, a single overhead light casting harsh shadows across the table where sunghoon was seated. his wrists were cuffed tightly to the metal surface, and despite his usual cocky demeanor, there was a certain tension in his posture, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. the guard across from him was calm, almost too calm, as if this was a routine he had done a hundred times before. my team and i exchanged glances, knowing that whatever was about to unfold, we were in for a lot more than we bargained for.

the interrogation dragged on with no real progress. sunghoon remained stubborn, his lips sealed tighter than ever, only repeating one phrase: "jake wants her." his eyes darted nervously, and i could almost see the fear in him—like something worse awaited if he revealed any more. then, out of nowhere, his gaze shifted, and he locked eyes with us through the two-way mirror. i felt a chill run down my spine as he spoke with surprising clarity. "one of jake's hideouts... it's near sunlight beach. a popular tourist spot," he said, his voice trembling slightly. then he leaned back in his chair, almost as if he was zoning out, rocking back and forth. "glory to the king... glory to the king..." he murmured, his hands shaking.

his chant faded, and the atmosphere turned heavy. he muttered a final, strangled apology. "i'm sorry, jake..." suddenly, a small red light flashed from the back of his neck. my heart skipped a beat as the room seemed to freeze for a second. before anyone could react, sunghoon's head exploded in a horrific, bloody mess. the sound of the explosion rang through the room, and i stumbled back, my breath caught in my throat. it was all too quick, too clean—a reminder of just how far jake’s reach went.

the alarms blared, the shrill sound ringing in my ears, and everything around me seemed to blur. what had just happened? my mind was struggling to process the scene in front of me. sunghoon's body, now just a mangled mess, lay lifeless in the chair. blood splattered across the walls, the guard beside him barely conscious, clutching his head. more guards flooded the room, and medics rushed in to tend to the injured guard and remove sunghoon’s body. i stood frozen, staring at the scene, my stomach turning. i had seen countless dead bodies before—death was part of the job—but this was different. the violent brutality of it, the suddenness, it made everything feel so much more real.

danielle’s hand gripped my shoulder, shaking me out of my trance. "are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. i nodded, my voice quiet as i murmured, "yes..." our boss, yuta, sent us home for the day, saying we needed rest after the chaos that had just unfolded. i didn't argue. i needed to get away from all of it. i lay in bed later that night, staring at the ceiling, my mind replaying sunghoon's final moments. the sound of his death, the red light on his neck, and the blood splattering everywhere haunted me. i couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning, that jake was always one step ahead.

chapter 4

i woke up the next morning, feeling the weight of a restless night. my eyes felt heavy as i fought off the drowsiness that still clung to me. reaching for my phone, i hoped for a distraction. as i unlocked it, i noticed a message from an unknown number. my heart skipped a beat, and i hesitated for a moment before opening it. the message read, "it's sad to see sunghoon go away. he was one of my best subordinates. oh well, that's the price you have to pay when you betray someone." it was jake. my stomach twisted in unease, and i quickly typed back, "what is it that you want from me?"

his reply came swiftly: "i only want you. that ring sunghoon gave you was a promise ring, from me to you." i glanced at the small gift box on my desk—the one sunghoon had handed me. the ring glinted inside it, adding to the confusion swirling in my mind. i typed back, "i don't get it... why do you want me?" his response was as cryptic as ever: "you'll understand soon enough." i sat there, staring at the phone in my hand, my thoughts racing. what did he mean? why me?

just as i was about to put my phone down, another message from jake popped up on the screen. "i'll see you around sunlight beach, bye, for now." my heart raced. was he really going to be there? was this my chance to finally see his face? the thought lingered in my mind, but i quickly shook it off, knowing i had to act. i grabbed my phone and messaged my team’s group chat, telling them about jake's message. we needed to be prepared for anything. without wasting time, we quickly made a plan to head to sunlight beach by evening. this could be the break we’d been waiting for, but i couldn't shake the unease that bubbled inside me.

i got in my car and picked up my team, all of us feeling the weight of what was to come. the drive towards sunlight beach felt longer than usual, the anticipation of what might happen hanging in the air. once we arrived, we rented a beach house to stay for a couple of days, giving us a place to regroup and prepare. by the time we got settled in, the sun had already set, casting a dusky glow over the beach. we unpacked our things and gathered in the living room, ready to devise our next move.

minji immediately got to work on her laptop, focusing on finding one of jake's hideouts. she didn’t take long at all—within minutes, she found the location, which was unsettling. usually, it would take her anywhere from ten to thirty minutes to track down a well-hidden location, but this time it was so quick. it felt off, almost as if jake had deliberately made it easier for us to find his hideout. the realization gnawed at me. was this another mind game from him? was he waiting for us to make the next move?

we planned to head to the hideout as soon as the sun rose tomorrow, the urgency of the situation weighing on all of us. however, mark, usually the most composed of the group, seemed unusually wary. he hesitated and spoke up, "why don't we wait until later? i mean, we still need to take some rest after what happened back at the agency." his words made me pause for a moment. minji and danielle exchanged glances, both nodding slightly, before they turned to look at me, waiting for my decision. i agreed, the exhaustion from the sleepless night settling into my bones. "you're right, we should rest," i said. mark’s expression seemed to relax a little after my answer, but i couldn't shake the feeling that something else was on his mind. i shrugged it off, chalking it up to the stress of the situation—or maybe he was just tired too. regardless, it was clear we needed rest if we were going to be at our best tomorrow.

we all woke up a bit later than usual, the weight of yesterday's events still hanging over us. as i looked around the house, i noticed that mark wasn’t there. frowning, i asked minji and danielle if they had seen him, but both of them shook their heads, noticing the worry on my face. minji, ever the optimist, suggested, "he probably went out for a walk to ease his mind." i quietly nodded, trying to push the unease aside, and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. however, as the minutes ticked by and mark still hadn't returned, my worry grew. i turned to minji and danielle, telling them, "i'm going to look for him. you two stay on guard and keep an eye out." they both nodded, understanding, and i grabbed my jacket, heading out of the house. something didn’t feel right, and i couldn’t shake the feeling that i needed to find mark—soon.

as i walked down the quiet street, i suddenly heard a familiar voice. it was mark. relief washed over me as i quickened my pace, but then i froze when i noticed he wasn’t alone. standing with him was someone i immediately recognized—jay, codename eagle. my heart sank. jay worked for jake, and yet, he and mark stood there laughing and talking like old friends. keeping a safe distance, i hid behind a nearby tree and strained to listen, my heart pounding in my chest.

their conversation made my blood run cold. mark had been working for jake too. for five years. five long years of betrayal, and i had no idea. he hadn’t even been with our agency for that long—just over a year—but now everything made sense. they joked about sharing the same codename, ‘eagle,’ as if it was some inside joke, mocking all of us who trusted him. betrayal was the only word ringing in my head as i stood there, frozen in disbelief, my stomach churning at the realization.

without hesitation, i pulled out my phone and quietly recorded their entire conversation. my hands shook slightly as i sent the file to minji with a single message: "mark's working for jake. stay on guard." i hid the phone in my pocket just in time as jay walked off in the opposite direction, and mark started heading toward me. my heart pounded, but i forced myself to stay calm, quickly shifting my demeanor. i pretended i was just out for a casual stroll, hoping he wouldn’t suspect a thing.

he noticed me and waved, a faint smile on his face. i walked up to him, my expression neutral, and asked where he had been all morning. "we were worried about you," i added, keeping my tone steady. mark sighed and scratched the back of his neck, offering a simple explanation: "i just needed to clear my head, you know? take my mind off some things." i nodded quietly, feigning understanding, and together we started walking back to the beach house. my stomach churned, but i couldn’t let him see my unease. not yet.

chapter 5

for the next few minutes, mark and i walked back toward the beach house, the tension between us palpable. i couldn’t shake the feeling of unease settling deeper into my gut, but i kept it at bay, pushing myself to focus. when we arrived back, i noticed the door was ajar, just a crack open, as if someone had hurriedly left or forgotten to close it. i motioned for mark to stay back as i cautiously approached. my heart skipped a beat as i pushed the door open, the hinges creaking slightly. inside, i froze.

danielle was lying unconscious on the floor, a bruise forming on the side of her face. minji was kneeling by the living room couch, her hands raised in the air, held at gunpoint by a tall man in a black suit. she was doing her best to stay calm, but i could see the fear in her eyes, the slight tremble in her posture. before i could react, i felt mark step up behind me, and in one swift motion, he pulled out his gun, pointing it directly at me. my breath hitched as i turned slowly to face him. he stood there, expression cold, not a hint of remorse in his eyes.

"mark, what the hell is going on?" i whispered, trying to make sense of everything, but his gun stayed trained on me. i walked inside, my hands raised in surrender. every nerve in my body screamed at me to fight back, but i knew better. i couldn't risk anyone else getting hurt. kneeling down next to minji, i kept my gaze steady as i glanced up at the man holding the gun to her head. my pulse quickened as he stared back at me, unblinking. "what's this all about?" i asked, my voice calm but with a hint of desperation. mark’s silence was deafening. his betrayal was unmistakable now, but the weight of it hadn't fully sunk in. i glanced at minji, who mouthed, be careful, her eyes pleading for me to stay strong.

mark took out his phone, glancing at it quickly while still keeping his gun trained on me. “i’ve got you surrounded,” he said, his voice low and calculated. "there’s no way out." as his attention shifted to the screen of his phone, i saw my chance. i gave minji a subtle nod, the tiniest movement of my head to signal her. her eyes locked onto mine, and without hesitation, she sprang into action. with lightning speed, she took down the man holding her at gunpoint. he barely had time to react before minji grabbed his weapon and shot him, her movements precise and efficient. he slumped to the ground, lifeless.

with that, i moved. my heart raced, but i stayed focused. i dashed straight for mark, tackling him with everything i had. he grunted as we collided, his gun flying out of his hand and skidding across the floor. we both scrambled, throwing punches, each one landing with a sickening thud. his strength was formidable, but i wasn’t about to let him win. in the chaos, i managed to find a weak spot, one of his pressure points. i hit it with a swift, calculated blow, and mark’s body went limp, collapsing to the floor unconscious. his gun was out of reach, and i took a deep breath, my body trembling from the adrenaline. i stood over him, keeping my guard up, but he was no longer a threat.

minji and i quickly made our way to danielle, who was slowly regaining consciousness. she groaned softly as her eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding her face for a moment before recognition set in. i gently helped her sit up and guided her to the couch. she winced as she sat, but she seemed to be more alert now. i grabbed my first aid kit and started treating her, checking for any signs of injury. thankfully, it seemed like she only had a few bruises.

once i was sure she was stable, i took a moment to call my boss, yuta. i filled him in on everything that had happened—from mark's betrayal to the ambush at the beach house. he listened carefully, not a hint of surprise in his voice. “don’t worry about it,” he said, his tone calm and reassuring. “i’ve already sent a team to retrieve the body and bring mark in for questioning. you did well.” after a while, his men arrived, taking the bodies of the guard and mark away. they moved quickly, efficiently, without saying much, just doing their job. i watched them go, feeling a sense of cold finality in the air. the house was quiet now, but the tension still lingered.

despite the chaos, we still had a mission to complete: jake’s hideout was waiting. i turned to danielle, who was sitting on the couch, still a bit shaken but recovering. “you can stay back if you’re not feeling up to it,” i suggested. “we’ll handle this.” but she shook her head, determination flickering in her eyes. “i’m fine now. i’ll come with you.” we agreed to head to jake’s hideout in the evening, giving us some time to rest. as the hours passed, the house finally felt peaceful again. i let my guard down for a moment, knowing we had time before the next move.

just as i thought i could relax, my phone buzzed with a new message. i glanced at the screen and froze. it was from the same unknown number—jake. the message read: “you think you’ve got me cornered, but you don’t know the half of it. sunlight beach was just a preview. be careful, i’m always watching, and soon, you’ll be the one in danger.” the words sent a chill down my spine. i looked at my team, who were busy preparing for the evening ahead. they hadn’t seen the message yet, but i could already feel the weight of jake’s warning hanging over us.

chapter 6

it was evening now, and the air was thick with tension. we headed out to jake’s hideout location, the one minji had tracked earlier. our weapons were concealed carefully, making sure not to alert any nearby people. as we neared the location, my stomach twisted in anticipation. it was an abandoned small house near the beach, hidden away by thick bushes and overgrown trees. the perfect location for someone like jake—secluded, unnoticed. we exchanged brief glances before pulling out our weapons, preparing for whatever lay inside. i slowly opened the door, my heart pounding in my chest, but there was... nothing. the house was eerily empty, bare of any signs of life.

i moved through the rooms, checking every corner, but found nothing. no clues, no traps, nothing to indicate that we were in the right place. minji frowned, glancing at the walls. “this doesn’t make sense. either i got the wrong location, or... this is a trap.” before i could respond, the sound of darts whizzing through the air broke my thoughts. tranquilizer darts. they hit us one by one, each dart embedding into our bodies with a sickening thud. my vision blurred as i turned toward the window, catching a glimpse of jay standing outside, smirking darkly. i tried to raise my weapon, but my body was already succumbing to the drugs coursing through my veins. my knees buckled, and everything went black before i could even make a sound.

i slowly awoke in a dimly lit room. my head was throbbing, and the faint sting from the tranquilizer darts was still present in my limbs. my eyes darted around the unfamiliar surroundings, trying to piece together what had happened. the walls were bare, and the air had a cold, metallic scent. as my vision cleared, i saw jay standing next to someone sitting in a grand chair. the figure was shrouded in darkness, their features concealed, but there was something unsettling about the way they sat, like they were waiting for something. or someone. i couldn’t move as we were all tied up, kneeling on the floor.

minji and danielle were also waking up, groggily sitting up beside me. their eyes met mine, exchanging confused glances, no doubt wondering the same thing i was—where the hell were we, and who was that in the chair? jay’s smirk widened as he noticed us regaining consciousness. “welcome to the party,” he taunted, but i barely registered his words. my mind was too focused on the figure in the chair, and the gnawing feeling that we were in far deeper than we realized.

the man in the chair leaned forward slowly, the dim light casting sharp shadows on his face. my breath caught in my throat as he revealed his identity. no way... it was the sim jaeyun. the realization hit me like a truck, and for a moment, everything around me seemed to blur. minji and danielle were frozen in shock, their eyes widening in disbelief. we’d been hunting this man for so long, and yet, here he was, sitting before us with a look of amusement on his face. he had just revealed himself so easily, so casually—far too easily.

i couldn’t wrap my mind around it. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. he was supposed to remain in the shadows, elusive, the mastermind we could never reach. and now, he was sitting there, in front of us, in the flesh. before i could process anything further, my heart sank. i watched in horror as jake—sim jaeyun—pulled out a gun with swift, practiced movements. he aimed it at danielle. “no!” i shouted, but it was too late. the sound of the gunshot rang out, and just like that, danielle was gone.

my breath hitched as jake turned the gun toward minji. my body froze in terror, but minji—always so calm, always so composed—looked at me. her eyes were soft, like she was saying goodbye, and then, with a small smile, she spoke. “don’t worry, y/n. i know you’ll finish the mission.” before i could even speak, the shot rang out again, and minji collapsed, her body crumpling to the ground. i couldn’t move. my eyes were locked on her lifeless form, the tears falling freely now as i watched my teammates—my family—fall one by one. i turned my gaze back to jake, my heart full of rage and disbelief. his cold, indifferent stare met mine. the tears burned down my face, mixing with the storm of emotions surging inside me. but it wasn’t over. not yet. i was still breathing. and i would make sure they didn't die in vain.

chapter 7

i stared at jake in disbelief, unable to fully process what had just happened. my mind was racing, but the scene in front of me was too overwhelming. the lifeless bodies of minji and danielle were still fresh in my mind, their faces haunting me, and yet, here i was, forced to look at the man who had killed them. without a word, jake sent jay out of the room, leaving us alone. the door clicked shut behind him, and the silence between jake and me felt suffocating. jake slowly stood up from the chair and walked toward me, each step purposeful. he stopped right in front of me, lifting my chin with the barrel of his gun, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"you don’t get it, do you?" he said, his voice low and cold. "i had to get rid of them. they were in the way of us." i recoiled, a flash of anger igniting inside me. "what do you mean, 'us'? we're in no relationship!" my voice was shaky, but i forced myself to stand firm. jake’s eyes softened for a moment, and then he replied in that calm, unnerving tone of his. "did you forget about that promise ring?" he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "that means i’ll never let go of you."

i blinked in confusion, my thoughts swirling. what was he talking about? the promise ring sunghoon had given me—it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, not like this. and yet, here jake was, claiming that it was a symbol of something much darker, much deeper than i could ever have imagined. i didn’t know what to say. my heart was pounding, my mind racing to make sense of his words, of everything that was happening. but i couldn't. it didn’t make sense. and yet, jake was here, standing right in front of me, and i knew that i had to make a decision. the question was... what was i going to do next?

before i could gather my thoughts to respond, the door to the room creaked open. jay stepped inside, his expression unreadable. jake glanced over at him, giving him a brief nod. "take her. we’re moving." without saying a word, jay walked over to me, his hands gripping my shoulders firmly. he yanked me to my feet, the ropes binding my wrists digging into my skin. my arms were still tied behind my back, and i struggled to maintain my balance as he guided me toward the door. i shot a glance at jake, but his face was unreadable, his eyes focused on something distant. i had no idea what he had planned, but one thing was clear: i was completely at his mercy now.

jay’s grip on me tightened as he guided me down a dimly lit hallway, the faint sound of our footsteps echoing in the silence. we reached the outside of the building, and i squinted against the harsh light of the streetlamps. the night air was cool, sending a shiver through me. jay shoved me into the backseat of a black car, the cold leather seat pressing into my back. jake slid into the passenger seat without a word, his cold eyes never leaving me as jay took the driver's seat and started the engine. the car rolled out of the driveway, its tires crunching against the gravel, and soon, we were speeding down a deserted road. i tried to make sense of what was happening, but my thoughts were a tangled mess. where were we going? and why had jake gone to such lengths to keep me here? i turned my gaze to the rearview mirror, but jay's eyes met mine in the reflection, offering no answers—only the silence of the night.

the car finally came to a stop, its engine cutting off with a soft hum. my heart raced as i looked up at the imposing gates of a luxurious mansion. the driveway was long, lined with neatly trimmed hedges and tall trees that seemed to swallow the car's headlights. it looked like something out of a dream—except this one wasn’t a dream. it was my nightmare. jake wasted no time. he pulled me out of the backseat, his grip tight and unyielding, his fingers digging into my arm. the cold air outside only made the situation feel more surreal, like i was trapped in some strange version of reality that i couldn’t escape. we walked up to the grand entrance, my footsteps hesitant and slow as i tried to process everything.

the mansion’s doors opened with a heavy creak, and i was led inside, the warmth of the house doing little to soothe the unease gnawing at me. jake guided me through the halls with a firm hand, his presence looming over me like a shadow. as we entered a room, i froze. my heart skipped a beat when i saw what was inside. the walls were covered with photographs—pictures of me, my team, moments frozen in time, like a twisted shrine to our lives. but it wasn’t just the pictures. files with our personal information were scattered across the tables, and plans were pinned to a massive bulletin board in the center of the room. it was like jake had been watching our every move for so long, anticipating our every step. i felt a chill crawl down my spine as i took in the room's contents. jake noticed my hesitation and leaned closer, his voice low. "you see, y/n, i’ve been planning this for a long time. everything has been leading up to this." his grip on my arm tightened, making sure i couldn’t look away from the madness around me.

chapter 8

jake’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, the intensity in his gaze never leaving mine. "you see, y/n, all these years of following you, watching you, it was never just about the mission. i developed... feelings. dangerous ones. and i realized it wasn’t just obsession—it was love." his voice, though calm, had an undercurrent of something more sinister, like he was trying to convince me of something i didn’t want to hear. i stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. love? how could he even say that after everything he had done? after what he had taken from me? my mind raced with all the terrible memories—the betrayals, the deaths, the fear. there was no way i could love him back. not after everything. not after the destruction he caused.

jake seemed to read the doubt in my eyes and took a step closer, his voice turning soft, almost pleading. "i know you’re confused. but i’ve been patient, waiting for the right moment to show you what we could have together." he glanced at me for a brief second, almost as if waiting for me to say something, anything. but i couldn’t bring myself to speak. i wanted to scream at him, ask how he could justify everything he did, how he could call what he felt love when it was so twisted. but as i looked at him, i couldn’t deny that he was… well, attractive. when he revealed his face earlier, i had to admit, i couldn’t ignore the way my heart skipped a beat. but that was it. nothing more.

he was probably surrounded by women who didn’t question his actions or who he was. he had the power, the charm, the allure—things i could never have. i shook my head slightly, trying to suppress the conflicting emotions rising within me. "how could i love you after everything you've done?" i whispered under my breath, not sure if he even heard me. but jake was relentless, his hand brushing against my cheek, his touch strangely gentle despite the dark words that followed. "you will, y/n. you’ll see. you’ll understand soon enough."

jake’s fingers deftly untied the rope binding my arms, and for a split second, i thought i could escape, that maybe, just maybe, i could get out of this. but before i could even think of making a move, i lashed out at him, my hands balled into fists, aiming for his chest. i wasn’t going to let him win, not like this. but jake was prepared. he dodged and blocked every one of my attacks, his movements calm and measured. it was like he had anticipated this, knew exactly how i would react in my emotional turmoil. he wasn’t surprised by my resistance, and that realization made my chest tighten even more.

in one swift move, he grabbed me, his grip firm as he pushed me backward. before i could even brace myself, my body hit the bed behind me, the force knocking the air out of my lungs. i struggled, trying to shove him off, but jake held me down, his body pressed against mine. i could feel the heat of his breath against my skin as he leaned in closer, his voice low and smooth, like honey. "y/n," he whispered, his words dripping with false comfort. "you don’t need to fight me. you don’t need to be scared. i’ve been here all along, haven’t i? you’ve always known i was meant to be with you." his voice was almost hypnotic, coaxing me into submission, making my body feel heavy, like i couldn’t escape his hold, no matter how much i tried. tears stung my eyes, my emotions a whirlwind of confusion and pain. his words were poison, eating away at my resolve. i hated how easy it was for him to manipulate me, how easily he saw through the walls i had built to protect myself.

his fingers brushed my cheek gently, wiping away a tear that escaped. “you’re not weak, y/n,” he murmured, as if trying to reassure me, but it only made me feel more vulnerable, more exposed. i couldn’t accept his words, couldn’t bring myself to believe him. this wasn’t love. this was control, obsession, and cruelty wrapped in a smile. but no matter how many times i told myself that, i couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. i felt powerless, like every punch i threw was nothing more than a feeble attempt to fight back against something much stronger than i was. i threw another punch at his chest, but it landed with no force, just a soft thud. it felt pathetic, like everything about me had become pathetic. i was trapped, drowning in my own emotions as jake held me close, his grip unyielding.

i hated how emotionally weak i was in that moment, how jake's words seeped into my mind and twisted everything i believed. my heart ached, my chest heavy with the weight of everything that had happened. the anger inside me was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but it couldn’t break through. no matter how hard i tried to push him away, his presence just seemed to fill every space around me, suffocating me. “why...? why me?” the question escaped my lips before i could stop it, a desperate plea for some kind of explanation, something that would make sense of all this madness.

i needed to understand—why me? out of everyone, why did he fixate on me like this? jake’s expression softened, and for a moment, it almost looked like he cared. his voice, when he spoke, was still soothing, like he was trying to calm me down, like he thought he had all the answers i was looking for. “because you’re the one i was always meant to find, y/n. you’ve always been the one. you’ve always been mine, whether you realized it or not.” his words were like a lullaby, and i hated how they made my heart flutter despite myself.

chapter 9 (smut)

jake's lips were soft against my skin as he placed small, lingering kisses across my face. each kiss felt like a cruel reminder of my helplessness, of how trapped i was in this nightmare. his touch felt almost tender, but there was no denying the darkness behind it. he kissed my tears away, his fingers brushing against my cheek with a gentle, almost soothing motion, like he was trying to erase the evidence of my pain. "everything will be alright now, with me," he whispered, his voice so calm and certain.

it was as if he believed every word he said, like he truly thought this was the solution—like his twisted affection could make everything better. i couldn’t push him away. not now, not in this moment when my body felt weak and my mind was clouded by confusion. i knew i should resist, that i should fight back with everything i had, but the weight of his presence, the way he held me, made it almost impossible to find the strength to do so. i hated how vulnerable i was, how his control over me felt so complete. every part of me screamed that this was wrong, but in that moment, i couldn’t seem to break free.

his actions now felt so out of place compared to the cold, calculating man i once knew. it was as if a switch had been flipped in him, revealing a side i never thought existed—the tender, almost affectionate side of jake. the ruthless, dangerous figure that had stalked me, manipulated my every move, was now gone. in his place was someone who held me gently, spoke softly, as if he truly cared.

was this what he wanted all along? was this his twisted idea of love, of affection? to spend an eternity with me, to keep me by his side, no matter the cost? his touch, his words, everything about this moment felt so surreal, like i was caught in a dream. i tried to push the thought away, to remind myself of everything he'd done, but something inside me faltered. could this really be who he was now? or was i just fooling myself, letting his manipulations take hold?

jake's lips met mine unexpectedly, catching me completely off guard. i gasped into the kiss, the surprise muffled by his lips as they pressed gently but insistently against mine. his hand moved to cup my face, fingers brushing lightly across my skin as if he were trying to memorize every detail. his other arm slid around my waist, pulling me closer to him, his touch possessive yet somehow tender, as if this moment was something he had longed for. i couldn't react immediately—my mind was a whirl of confusion, panic, and disbelief. everything felt so foreign, so wrong, and yet, there was an undeniable pull i couldn’t explain.

jake’s lips trailed down my neck, his kisses light and almost teasing, causing a sharp gasp to escape me. i couldn’t believe this was happening, his touch strangely tender, almost affectionate. it made my stomach churn with confusion and self-loathing. “jake… no-” i tried to protest, but he cut me off, his voice soothing yet commanding, “shh, don’t worry.” his words sent a strange shiver through me, his reassurance not comforting, but unnerving. he was trying to control the situation, trying to control me. but i couldn’t stop myself from reacting, my body betraying my mind as his kisses continued down, each one more insistent than the last.

i felt jake's body move against mine, his hardness pressing against me with a deliberate slowness that sent shivers down my spine. i tried to cover my mouth, whimpering softly as he ground against me, but jake's hand closed around mine and pulled it away. "i want to hear you," he whispered in my ear, his breath hot and husky. his words sent a surge of fear through me, but i was powerless to stop the sounds escaping from between my lips—soft whimpers and moans that seemed to fuel jake's desire.

jake's fingers deftly worked the zipper of my pants, and i felt a surge of panic as he slowly pulled them down. but instead of removing them completely, he left me in just my underwear, teasing me with the promise of what was to come. my whimpering grew more insistent as he reached for my shirt buttons, his fingers moving with a gentle precision that belied the intensity of our situation. he slipped it off my shoulders, and i felt his hands close around mine once more—this time to massage my breasts with a tender intimacy that sent shivers coursing through me.

jake's fingers danced across my skin, his touch sending sparks of sensation through me as he removed his clothes. i felt a flutter in my chest as he revealed himself to me, his member hard and ready. his voice was low and husky as he whispered in my ear - "you can take it, you were made for me" - the words dripping with possessiveness and confidence. i felt a shiver run down my spine as i gazed up at him, his eyes burning with an intensity that left me breathless.

i tried to push jake away, my hands scrabbling at his chest as he slowly began to enter me. but he was too strong, too insistent, and i felt myself being pulled back down into the darkness of our passion. tears streamed down my face as the pain washed over me, a burning sensation that threatened to consume me whole. i knew it couldn't be happening—this wasn't who i was, but all that mattered was the knot in my stomach growing tighter with each passing moment as jake's thrusts quickened and deepened.

my whimpers gradually gave way to moans as jake's movements became more insistent, his thrusts driving me deeper into the pleasure he caused. i tried to look away to escape the intensity of our connection, but jake's hand closed around my face, holding it in place as he whispered reassurances in my ear—“don't worry y/n, don't be shy, i'm here.” his words were a gentle counterpoint to the roughness of our lovemaking, and i felt myself relaxing into his touch even as my body continued to respond with abandon.

i felt myself building towards a climax, my body trembling with anticipation as i whispered the words "i'm close" into jake's ear. he responded with a low, husky growl—“go on, come for me”—his voice urging me towards release. and then, in perfect rhythm, he let out a groan of his own, signaling that he was close too. the tension between us snapped like a rubber band, and we both came crashing down into the abyss of our pleasure.

as our bodies released their pent-up tension, jake slid down beside me, his arms wrapping around me in a tight embrace. he held me close, his chest heaving with exertion as he whispered words that sent shivers down my spine—"i hope you understand now how much i love you." his voice was low and husky, filled with emotion and conviction. i felt his heart beating against mine, and for a moment, the chaos of our passion subsided, replaced by a sense of connection and intimacy.

#enhypen #fanfiction #jake #yandere jake #enhypen fanfiction #jake fanfiction #enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #fanfic request

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whoopseydaisy · 3 days ago

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COME SING WITH ME is a lyric game setting, a divinatory map, and a secret third thing. Inspired by (and made to explore) the album MYTH by @narcissistcookbook

It contains a map of the island of St. Sasha; a stolen songbook full of lyrics, curated by instinct; game tokens, with little instructions for their use; and the other stolen songbook scrawling with handwritten notes.

Created for the Tiny World TTRPG Jam.

#the narcissist cookbook #myth side one #myth side two #lyric games #tiny world ttrpg jam #ttrpgs #might come up with an update one day that curates lyrics more thoughtfully #remains to be seen #also will probably do something like this for ghost quartet one day 👀👀#ALSO ITS FREE IF U WANT TO CHECK IT OUT #feel so free not to pay for it

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elryuse · 14 days ago

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For Better Or Worse, Right?

Yandere Asa & Rami X Male Reader

Requested By My Friend @superkpopeditsgirlgroup on Tumblr & Discord. I hope You Like it.

The first time you saw Asa and Rami on stage, you were captivated. The way they moved, the way their voices blended seamlessly—it was perfection, an artistry that touched something deep within you. You followed them religiously, attending every live broadcast, buying every album, and scouring social media for their latest updates. Your admiration wasn't just infatuation; it felt like love. You convinced yourself that what you wanted most was their happiness, even if it came at the expense of your own.

But never in your wildest dreams did you think you'd meet them.

The day of the fan meeting felt surreal. As you stood in line clutching your album and a handwritten letter, your heart raced. Hundreds of other fans surrounded you, all buzzing with the same excitement. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, you felt like today was your day. A flicker of hope, perhaps foolish, told you that something special would happen.

When it was finally your turn, you stepped up to the table where Asa and Rami sat, radiant and smiling. Asa's sharp eyes scanned you curiously, while Rami offered you a warm, genuine grin.

"Hello! What's your name?" Asa asked, tilting her head slightly.

You swallowed hard, feeling your palms grow damp. "Y-Y/n."

Rami leaned forward slightly, her voice soft yet teasing. "You look nervous, Y/n. Don't worry; we don't bite."

Their laughter, light and melodic, put you at ease, if only for a moment. You handed them your album and watched as they signed it, occasionally glancing up at you. It felt like time slowed as they asked you questions—what you liked about their music, which performance was your favorite. You answered as best you could, trying not to stumble over your words.

Then, as Asa was handing back your album, she slipped a small note inside. Her fingers brushed yours for the briefest moment, sending a shiver up your spine. She winked before leaning back.

The fan meeting ended, but your world had just shifted. When you opened the note later, it simply read: Text me sometime with a phone number scrawled beneath it. Your hands trembled. Was this a mistake? Did she give this to anyone else?

You stared at the note all night, questioning its authenticity. But the next day, with your courage bolstered, you sent a text. To your surprise, the reply came quickly.

Asa : Hey, Y/n! It’s me, Asa. Don’t tell anyone I gave you my number, okay? ;) How are you?

You : Hi, Asa. I’m… honestly, I’m still trying to believe this is real. Is it really you?

Asa : Of course, silly! Why would I joke about this? Rami says hi, by the way!

Rami : Hi, Y/n! Asa’s been talking about you nonstop since yesterday, so I figured I’d join in, haha.

From that point on, your life became a whirlwind of excitement. Asa and Rami texted you daily, sharing photos and updates that no one else got to see. Sometimes, they’d even call late at night, their laughter and voices keeping you company when the world felt too quiet.

"Y/n," Asa said one night during a call, her voice playful but serious underneath. "You’re really special, you know that? I can tell you genuinely care about us, not just as idols but as people. That’s rare."

"I just want you both to be happy," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Well," Rami chimed in, her tone lighter, "you make us happy too. Don’t forget that."

It felt like a dream. They were everything you ever wanted—kind, funny, and breathtakingly beautiful. And somehow, inexplicably, they seemed to like you back.

The dream, however, began to crack weeks later.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you received a text from Asa. At first, your heart leaped, but as you read it, a strange weight settled in your chest.

Asa : Hey, Y/n. Just thought you should know—Rami and I both have boyfriends. I hope that doesn’t change anything between us.

Your hands froze over the screen. Boyfriends? It felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs. You re-read the message several times, hoping you’d misunderstood. But the words didn’t change. They had boyfriends.

"Are you okay with that?" Asa asked during a call later, her tone light but with an edge of concern.

"Of course," you lied, forcing a laugh. "Why wouldn’t I be? I just want you both to be happy, remember?"

Asa sighed in relief. "I knew you’d understand. You’re too sweet, Y/n."

Despite your words, a storm brewed inside you. You convinced yourself it didn’t matter. They were happy, and that was all you ever wanted. But as time passed, the texts grew less frequent. The calls dwindled. Asa and Rami, once so warm and engaging, began to feel distant.

One evening, after nearly two weeks of silence, you decided to text them. The reply was curt.

Rami : Sorry, Y/n. We’ve been really busy lately. Hope you’re doing well.

Busy? You wanted to believe it, but their social media told a different story. Pictures of them laughing with friends, enjoying lavish dinners, and spending time with their boyfriends flooded your feed. There was no mention of being "busy."

The pain was sharp, almost unbearable. You sat in your room, staring at your phone, hoping for another message, another chance to feel the warmth they once offered. But the screen remained dark.

Had they forgotten about you? Did the moments you shared mean nothing to them? The thought consumed you, pulling you into a dark, restless spiral.

The decision to let go wasn’t easy. It had taken weeks—no, months—of restless nights, wondering if you were just a footnote in their story. Asa and Rami had once made you feel like you belonged in their world, but now, that world felt unreachable.

Staring at your phone, you took a deep breath and began typing the message that had been weighing on your mind.

You : Hey Asa, hey Rami. I hope you’re both doing well. I just wanted to say thank you—for everything. Knowing you, even for a little while, has been one of the best experiences of my life.

I think it’s time for me to step back, though. You both have your group, your fans, and your lives. And I’ll keep supporting you, always. But it’s time for me to focus on my own life, too.

No matter what, I’ll always love you both. Take care, okay?

You hesitated before pressing send. Once the message left your phone, there was no taking it back. But deep down, you knew this was for the best. The bond you once shared was gone, and clinging to it only made the ache worse.

Asa responded a few hours later, her reply short and devoid of emotion.

Asa : Got it. Thanks for understanding. Take care too.

Rami didn’t respond at all.

It stung, more than you cared to admit. But you told yourself this was the closure you needed. They were busy with their careers, their boyfriends, their lives. It was selfish to expect anything more.

For the first time in what felt like forever, your phone was quiet. There were no late-night texts, no selcas or updates that made your heart flutter. The silence was deafening at first, but slowly, you began to adjust.

You focused on work, picking up new hobbies to fill the void they left behind. Life started to feel... manageable. The pain lingered, but it dulled over time. You told yourself that Asa and Rami had moved on, and so should you.

Meanwhile, Asa and Rami were riding the high of their latest comeback. Their schedules were packed with performances, interviews, and fan events. They barely noticed your absence, too consumed by the whirlwind of their careers and their relationships.

At least, that’s what you thought.

It started small. A message from Asa late at night.

Asa : Hey, haven’t heard from you in a while. Everything okay?

You stared at the screen, conflicted. Part of you wanted to reply, to fall back into the pattern of clinging to their fleeting attention. But you resisted. She didn’t need you, not really.

A few days later, Rami sent you a selca. Her smile was radiant as always, but the caption beneath it struck an odd note.

Rami : Miss your compliments, Y/n. Hope you’re doing okay.

Why now? You hadn’t heard from them in weeks, and now they were reaching out as if nothing had changed. You replied politely but kept your responses brief, not wanting to reopen wounds that had barely begun to heal.

But the messages didn’t stop.

Asa and Rami started texting you daily again, more frequently than before. At first, it was casual—asking how you were, what you were up to. Then it became more persistent.

Asa : Why don’t you ever call anymore?

Rami: You’re not ignoring us, are you?

You tried to maintain boundaries, replying sporadically, but they seemed determined to pull you back into their orbit. They’d send you photos—candid shots from backstage, videos of them goofing around in the studio. It was as if they were trying to remind you of the connection you once shared.

One night, Asa called you out of the blue. Her voice was unusually sharp.

"Why haven’t you been talking to us, Y/n?" she demanded.

"I thought it was better this way," you admitted. "You’re both so busy, and I didn’t want to get in the way."

"You’re not in the way," Asa snapped. "We... we liked having you around. Don’t you care about us anymore?"

Her words left you stunned. Before you could respond, Rami’s voice joined the call, softer but no less insistent.

"You promised you’d always love us, Y/n. Did you forget?"

Their messages became more erratic over the following weeks. If you didn’t reply quickly enough, they’d bombard you with texts, sometimes accusing, sometimes pleading.

Asa : Are you talking to someone else?

Rami : Don’t forget who was there for you first.

You started to feel like a prisoner in your own life, their presence suffocating despite the physical distance between you. They began to show up in unexpected places—cafes you frequented, even outside your apartment building. Always with the same excuses: "We were in the area," or "We just wanted to see you."

Their boyfriends seemed to vanish from the picture. Asa and Rami never mentioned them anymore, and their social media accounts were conspicuously devoid of any couple photos. When you asked about it, Asa brushed it off with a dismissive laugh.

"They weren’t important," she said. "Not like you."

One night, you came home to find a package waiting for you. Inside was a framed photo of Asa and Rami, along with a handwritten note.

We belong to you, Y/n. Don’t ever forget that.

Your heart pounded as you stared at the note. The handwriting was shaky, almost frantic. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut: they hadn’t moved on at all. If anything, they had become obsessed.

You tried to confront them, but they denied everything, their voices sweet and convincing. "You’re imagining things," Rami said, her smile never reaching her eyes. "We just care about you, that’s all."

But their actions told a different story. You began to feel like you were being watched, their presence lingering even when they weren’t there.

The opportunity to manage Nov4 was a lifeline. After everything with Asa and Rami, it felt like a chance to start over. Nov4 was a smaller girl group, just beginning to make a name for themselves in the competitive industry. The girls—Mina, Hana, Jisoo, and Nari—were hardworking, kind, and grateful for your guidance. Working with them brought a sense of purpose you hadn’t felt in months.

For the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe.

But it didn’t last.

The fan event was supposed to be a joyous occasion, a chance for Nov4 to connect with their growing fanbase. You stood near the back of the venue, watching as the girls charmed their audience with bright smiles and energetic performances.

Everything seemed perfect—until you felt it.

A chill ran down your spine, the unmistakable sensation of being watched. You scanned the crowd, your heart sinking when your eyes landed on two familiar figures. Asa and Rami.

They stood near the back, their faces partially obscured by masks and hats, but their eyes told you everything. They weren’t here for Nov4. They were here for you.

Asa’s glare was sharp enough to cut steel, while Rami’s expression was a mix of hurt and fury. They didn’t approach, didn’t make a scene, but their presence was enough to rattle you.

Your phone buzzed incessantly in your pocket.

Asa : So this is what you’ve been doing? Babysitting nobodies?

Rami : Do you think you can replace us with them?

Asa : We see you, Y/n. Don’t ignore us.

Your hands trembled as you turned off your phone, shoving it deep into your pocket. This was wrong. What they were doing was wrong. They had boyfriends, for God’s sake. Why couldn’t they just leave you alone?

Ignoring them seemed like the only option, but it only seemed to provoke them further. The messages became more erratic, their tone oscillating between anger and desperation.

Asa : You’re ours, Y/n. You promised.

Rami : Why are you avoiding us? Do you think you can escape?

Asa : We’re not going to let you forget us.

You blocked their numbers, but somehow, they found other ways to contact you—through anonymous accounts, through emails, even through fan mail addressed to Nov4.

One night, as you were walking back to your car after a long day at the studio, you found a note taped to your windshield.

You can’t hide from us, Y/n.

Your blood ran cold

The breaking point came during another fan event for Nov4. The girls were busy signing albums and chatting with fans when you noticed a commotion near the entrance. Asa and Rami walked in, flanked by their boyfriends.

Your stomach dropped.

They made a beeline for you, their expressions icy and unreadable. Before you could react, Asa’s boyfriend shoved you back against a table, causing a loud crash that drew everyone’s attention.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Asa hissed, her voice low but venomous.

"You think you can just walk away from us?" Rami added, her eyes glinting with malice.

The girls of Nov4 froze, their smiles faltering as they watched the scene unfold. Mina stepped forward hesitantly. "Is everything okay?"

Asa turned to her, her smile sickly sweet. "Oh, everything’s fine. We’re just catching up with an old friend. Right, Y/n?"

You didn’t answer, your jaw clenched as you tried to contain your humiliation. Asa’s boyfriend gave you another shove for good measure, laughing mockingly.

"You’re pathetic," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jisoo and Nari moved to your side, their expressions protective. "Leave him alone," Jisoo said, her voice trembling but firm.

Asa sneered, but she didn’t push further. "We’ll see you around, Y/n," she said, her tone dripping with warning.

They left as suddenly as they’d arrived, leaving you to deal with the aftermath. Nov4’s fans whispered among themselves, the girls looking at you with a mixture of concern and confusion.

That night, Mina found you sitting alone in the practice room, staring blankly at the floor. She sat down beside you, her usual bubbly demeanor subdued.

"Who were they?" she asked gently.

"Just... people I used to know," you said, your voice hollow.

Mina didn’t push for details. Instead, she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Whatever’s going on, we’ve got your back. Okay?"

Her words brought a lump to your throat. You nodded, grateful but unable to shake the feeling of dread that clung to you like a shadow.

Because deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. Asa and Rami weren’t going to let you go that easily.

The bullying started subtly but escalated quickly. Asa and Rami seemed determined to destroy every shred of peace you’d managed to find. At first, it was snide remarks during public events, whispers loud enough for you and Nov4 to overhear.

"Guess even nobodies need a manager," Rami had said once, her boyfriend laughing along.

Their boyfriends became involved, too, their behavior disgusting and cruel. They made lewd jokes about Nov4, their appearances, and their talents. The girls—Mina, Hana, Jisoo, and Nari—tried to stay strong, but it was clear the harassment was taking a toll.

You saw the exhaustion in their eyes, the way their smiles faltered during rehearsals.

One night, as you were walking Mina to her car, she confided in you. "Why are they doing this to us, Y/n? What did we do wrong?"

You couldn’t tell her the truth. That this nightmare was because of you.

"I’ll handle it," you said firmly, though the weight of your promise felt unbearable.

When Asa and Rami’s harassment extended to Nov4’s performances—spreading false rumors, sabotaging their equipment—you’d had enough. You sent a message demanding a meeting, hoping to reason with them.

They replied almost instantly.

Asa : We’ll be there. We’ve been waiting for you to come to your senses.

The meeting took place in an abandoned café after hours. Asa and Rami arrived hand in hand, their smiles unsettlingly sweet.

"You wanted to talk?" Asa asked, her tone mockingly innocent.

"Stop this," you said, your voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Leave Nov4 out of this. Whatever you want from me, I’ll—"

"Whatever we want?" Rami interrupted, smirking. "Y/n, you already know what we want. We want you."

"I can’t—I won’t," you stammered. "This is wrong, and you know it. You have boyfriends, careers—"

"Boyfriends?" Asa cut you off, laughing darkly. "Oh, Y/n. You still don’t get it, do you?"

Rami reached into her bag and pulled out a tablet. She tapped the screen, and a live feed appeared.

Your blood ran cold.

Nov4. The girls were tied to chairs in what looked like a dimly lit basement. They were crying, their muffled screams piercing your heart.

"What—what the hell is this?" you yelled, lunging toward them.

Rami stepped back, holding the tablet out of reach. "Don’t worry," she said sweetly. "We’re just helping you make a decision."

"Let them go!" you begged, your voice cracking. "They haven’t done anything! Please, I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t hurt them!"

Asa leaned in, her face inches from yours. "You say that, but you’re still trying to run from us. Why, Y/n? Why can’t you see we’re meant to be together?"

"This isn’t love," you spat, tears streaming down your face. "This is sick!"

Asa and Rami exchanged a look before smiling.

"Well," Asa said, her tone turning cold. "If you’re not going to choose, we’ll make the decision for you."

She gestured to the tablet, and the camera angle shifted. Two men stepped into the frame—Asa and Rami’s so-called boyfriends. One of them smirked at the camera before pulling out a knife.

"No!" you screamed, your voice breaking as the men approached the girls.

Mina, Hana, Jisoo, and Nari screamed, their cries muffled by the gags. You pleaded, begged, but Asa and Rami just watched, their expressions eerily calm.

The men acted quickly, their movements efficient and brutal. You screamed as the feed went black, the sound of the girls’ cries haunting you.

"You... you monsters!" you yelled, collapsing to your knees.

Asa crouched beside you, her voice a whisper. "Don’t you see? We did this for you. They were in the way."

"You’re insane!"

Rami sighed, her tone almost bored. "You’ll understand eventually. But for now..."

There was an explosion in the distance, shaking the ground beneath you.

Asa smiled. "Oh, don’t worry about them. They’ve served their purpose."

You stared at them in horror as they stood, hand in hand, laughing at the destruction they’d wrought.

You collapsed to the ground, your knees weak and trembling. The weight of it all the screams of Nov4 still echoing in your mind, the sight of Asa and Rami laughing as if they hadn't just orchestrated a massacre-was too much.

"You're monsters," you whispered, your voice hoarse.

Rami knelt in front of you, her eyes wide and filled with a dark kind of love. "We're not monsters, Y/n. We're your salvation."

"You'll understand someday," Asa said, crouching beside you, her voice soft like a lullaby. "This is all for you. Everything we've done is because we love you."

"Love?" you spat, tears streaming down your face. "You call this love? You've destroyed everything! You've killed innocent people!"

Rami tilted her head, her smile unnervingly gentle. "They were just distractions. Now it's just us. The way it was always meant to be."

Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms. Guilt and anger warred within you, but the guilt won.

"This is my fault," you whispered, your voice breaking. "If I'd stayed away... if I'd just..."

"You're right," Asa said, her tone calm yet cruel.

"It is your fault. But that's okay. We forgive you."

Rami leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. "We'll always forgive you, Y/n. No matter what."

You couldn't take it anymore. The weight of their words, the lives lost because of you-it was unbearable. A broken sob escaped your lips as you clutched your head, shaking violently.

"I... I can't do this anymore," you choked out. "I can't..."

Your hand moved instinctively toward your pocket, where you kept a small pocketknife.

Maybe, just maybe, you could end this nightmare.

But Asa was faster. Her hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with an iron grip.

"Ah-ah," she cooed, her voice a mockery of sweetness. "That's not an option, Y/n. You don't get to leave us."

Rami pulled a syringe from her bag, the liquid inside glowing faintly in the dim light. "We thought you might try something stupid," she said with a sigh. "But don't worry, we've got it under control."

Your eyes widened in panic as you struggled, but Asa's grip was unyielding.

"Let me go!" you screamed, thrashing against them. "Please, just let me go!"

Rami's smile never wavered as she pressed the needle against your arm. "Shh," she whispered. "It'll all be over soon."

The sharp prick of the needle pierced your skin, and a cold numbness began to spread through your body. Your vision blurred, the edges of the world dissolving into darkness.

"No... no," you mumbled, your voice weak.

Asa leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear. "You're ours now, Y/n. There's no more running, no more hiding."

"You'll never escape us," Rami added, her voice low and haunting.

As the world faded away, their faces were the last thing you saw-smiling, serene, and utterly unhinged.

"You belong to us," they said in unison, their voices echoing in your mind as you slipped into unconsciousness.

And with that, everything went dark.

The End

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the-griffons-saddlebag · 7 months ago

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💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Hero’s Cookbook Wondrous item, uncommon ___ In the front of this well-worn book is a magical incantation. Reciting the incantation reveals that it’s a song to cook to, and follows a catchy melody. The rest of the book is filled with various persons’ handwritten recipes and scrawled notes, which all include some form of meat from a creature they’d slain. You can refer to the book’s writings to gain a +3 bonus to any check made using cook’s utensils. Alternatively, you can recite the incantation while you cook a recipe from the book. The resulting dish must include meat from either an aberration, beast, dragon, or monstrosity. It takes 1 hour to cook a dish, which creates a number of rations equal to four times the number of pounds of meat you cooked (to a maximum of rations). If the cooked creature had a challenge rating of 1 or more, a creature that eats one of the rations in full gains a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made against creatures of the cooked one’s type for 8 hours or until the next time it eats a ration. If a ration isn’t eaten within 24 hours, it loses this effect. Once this property of the book has been used, it can’t be used again until the next dawn. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

#illustration #digital art #dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d

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cece693 · 3 months ago

Text

Stupid Crush Pt. 2 (Nico di Angelo x Son of Poseidon)

Because many of you keep requesting a part two of my original post, I couldn't help myself :) However, you might hate me for this but I want to practice writing sad endings, so if you aren't comfortable with that, I suggest living blind.

link to part one

tags: breakup, no making up, reader tries to move on, major character death, ambiguous ending, heartbreak

Nico di Angelo had never been one to give up easily, and when it came to you, he refused to let you slip away without a fight. Even after your breakup—after the heart-wrenching conversation that left him feeling gutted and empty—Nico couldn’t accept that it was truly over. He loved you. He knew he had made mistakes, but there was no way he could let that be the end.

For weeks after your relationship had ended, Nico threw himself into trying to prove his love. He started small, hoping that maybe you’d notice: he’d offer to help with your tasks, leaving small reminders that he still cared. He lingered around the Argo II, hoping for a chance to talk, to catch your eye. But every time, you kept your distance.

But then came the war.

The final fight against Gaea loomed over them all, leaving little room for anything other than survival. The battle was brutal, stretching the demigods to their limits, and for a while, Nico had to push his desire to win you back aside. They were fighting for their lives now. There was no time for hearts and feelings when the world was on the verge of collapse.

Even as he fought with everything he had, one thought kept Nico going: you. He clung to the hope that when this was all over, when Gaea was defeated, and the war was behind them, he would have another chance. Every swing of his sword, every shadow he manipulated, every ounce of his energy was fueled by the need to return to your side. He had to survive. He had to make it back to you. The war didn't come without a cost; many campers had died in battle, and with restoration efforts taking everyone's time, Nico didn't breach you or the topic until a week later.

He took it a step further. If you didn't want to see Nico, he will leave reminders of his love. This gesture alone should tell you how much you meant to him; he was always someone who kept his emotions buried beneath layers of coldess and sarcasm. But for you, he would try. He left small letters under your door—handwritten notes that declared his love in ways that were unfamiliar to him. They were never long, just a few lines scrawled in his messy handwriting, but they held every ounce of sincerity Nico could muster:

I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.

You were never the second choice. I wish I could make you see that.

I’m still here. Waiting.

He even placed his skull ring inside one of those notes, hoping that action alone would make you answer his pleads, but to no avail. Finally, after countless sleepless nights and too many failed attempts to reach you, Nico couldn’t take it anymore. He needed closure. He needed to hear your voice, even if it ended with you punching him (rightfully so.)

It was late in the evening when Nico made his way to your cabin. The sky was painted in hues of deep purple and orange, the last remnants of the sunset casting long shadows across the camp. Nico’s heart pounded in his chest, dread and hope warring within him as he stood outside your door. He knocked, and after a long moment, the door creaked open.

You stood there, framed by the soft glow of the cabin’s lanterns, your expression unreadable. You didn’t say anything at first, just stared at Nico, waiting. Nico swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, but eventually stepped aside, letting him in. The cabin was quiet, Percy nowhere to be seen. For that, Nico was thankful. He wouldn't be surprised if you had told Percy what occurred that day. He stood there for a moment, unsure where to begin. He’d rehearsed this conversation in his head a thousand times, but now that he was here, in front of you, the words felt heavy, stuck in his throat.

“I—I’ve been trying to show you that I’m sorry,” Nico started, his voice shaky. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But I never wanted to. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

"Nico." You whispered softly, eyes softening. "I-I'm trying things out with Will."

Nico's world shattered. "What?" was all he could muster. He blinked rapidly, unable to process what you had just said. His mouth opened, then closed, and for a moment he looked like he was going to crumble right in front of you.

“I…I’m trying things out with Will,” you repeated, a bit more firmly this time. Your voice was gentle, but there was a finality to it that made Nico’s heart twist painfully. His gaze dropped to the floor, staring at his shoes as if they held some kind of answer he couldn’t find in your eyes.

The silence stretched on between you, heavy and suffocating. Nico’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, the weight of all his efforts—the letters, the gifts, the endless nights of regret—collapsing under the simple truth of your words. He wanted to scream, to beg you to reconsider, but his voice failed him. When he finally managed to speak, his voice was barely a whisper.

“When did this happen?” His throat felt tight, like the air was being squeezed out of him, but he forced himself to look up, to meet your gaze even though it hurt.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “A few weeks after the battle with Gaea. Will and I…we just started talking, and things…they just happened.”

Nico’s heart twisted again, sharper this time, like a knife being driven deeper. The battle with Gaea—the war that had forced him to pause his desperate attempts to win you back, the war he had survived just so he could return to your side—had been the turning point for you, but not in the way he had hoped. He’d come back, bruised and exhausted, believing that his chance would come after the fighting was done. But the war had ended, and you had already found someone else.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You exhaled slowly, the sadness in your eyes deepening. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you. I was waiting for the right moment, but there never seemed to be one. You’ve been trying so hard, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I had moved on.”

He flinched, feeling the sting of those words cut deep. His hands trembled, and he shoved them into his pockets, trying to stop them from shaking. “Moved on?” The disbelief in his voice was raw, painful. “I never stopped loving you. Every day, I thought of ways to make it right, to show you how much you mean to me.”

“I know, Nico.” Your voice was almost pleading now, as if you wanted him to understand. “I saw everything you did. The letters, the ring—you don’t know how much it meant to me. But it’s not about how much you love me, Nico. It’s about trust. It’s about how I felt and how I still feel.”

“Then why did you keep the ring?” he asked desperately, his voice breaking as he gestured towards your desk, where his skull ring still sat, untouched since the day he left it there.

You looked away, your expression pained. “Because a part of me will always care for you. You were my first love, and I’ll never forget that. But Will, he’s been there for me in a way I needed. He’s open, and he doesn’t hide from me. I needed someone who could be honest with me, and you never were.”

The words felt like a slap to Nico’s face. He stepped back, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears burning in his eyes. “I wanted to be,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I tried. I tried so hard.”

“I know you did,” you said softly, a single tear slipping down your cheek. “But sometimes trying isn’t enough.”

Nico’s chest tightened, and he felt the darkness inside him stirring—the familiar, suffocating void that had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface. He’d fought so hard to keep it at bay, to be stronger for you. But now, standing in your cabin with the truth hanging between you like a wall he could never break through, he felt it closing in on him again.

“I—I have to go,” he choked out, turning away before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at you any longer, not when the weight of your rejection was crushing him from the inside out.

“Nico, wait—” you called after him, but he was already halfway to the door, his footsteps heavy and unsteady. He paused, just for a moment, his hand on the doorknob, and for a second he thought about turning back, about begging you one last time not to leave him behind. But he knew it wouldn’t matter. Your mind was made up, and no amount of pleading would change that.

Without another word, Nico stepped out into the night, the cool breeze washing over him as he made his way toward the darkness beyond. The camp was quiet, the stars twinkling overhead, but all he could see was the shattered remains of his hopes and dreams, lying in pieces around him. He had tried—he had tried so hard—but in the end, it hadn’t been enough.

As he walked away, the darkness swallowed him whole, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t try to fight it.

Three days later, the camp was still buzzing with post-war activity. You threw yourself into helping with the rebuilding, avoiding thoughts of Nico and the painful conversation that had ended it all. Will was always by your side, his presence a comfort to your wounded heart. It wasn't that you didn't love Nico anymore; you would perhaps love him for the rest of your life, but it was time to put yourself first.

One afternoon, you were helping organize the infirmary with Will when a sudden, cold chill ran down your spine. You froze, a sense of dread settling over you. Before you could say anything, a shout rang out from outside, a voice filled with panic and fear. “There’s been an attack!”

You and Will bolted out of the cabin, following the frantic crowd toward the forest’s edge. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pushed through the campers, the anxiety mounting with every step. When you finally reached the clearing, you saw them—several demigods huddled around a small, motionless figure lying in the grass.

“No,” you whispered, your blood turning to ice as you caught sight of the dark clothes, the familiar face pale and still. “Nico…”

Will was already kneeling beside him, his hands glowing with golden light as he tried to heal the deep, ragged wound that marred Nico’s side. But you could see it in his eyes—the terror, the hopelessness. The injury was too severe, the damage too great.

“No, no, no,” you said, falling to your knees beside him, your hands hovering helplessly over Nico’s broken body. His eyes fluttered open, just barely, the shadows that had once seemed so invincible now dimmed to a fragile flicker.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice a faint rasp that barely reached your ears. His gaze was distant, glassy, but somehow he managed to find yours, a small, sad smile ghosting across his lips. “I never meant to hurt you."

A sob caught in your throat as you cupped his cheek, your hands trembling. “Nico, please…Just hold on,” you begged, your voice cracking under the weight of panic and grief.

Nico’s smile wavered, his chest shuddering with the effort to breathe. “I’m…I’m so tired,” he murmured, his eyes beginning to drift shut, the pain etched into every line of his face. “I wanted to make things right…to make you…happy.” Each word came slower, his strength ebbing away with every breath he took.

“You did,” you said, your voice fierce despite the tears streaming down your cheeks. You squeezed his hand harder, as if the strength of your grip alone could keep him tethered to this world. “Nico, you did make me happy. You still do. Just stay with me. Please, Nico, don’t go.”

A tear slid down Nico's pale cheek, mingling with the blood that stained his skin. “I love you,” he whispered, the words barely a breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a desperate intensity. “Always…love you.”

“I love you too,” you choked out, pressing your forehead against his, your tears mingling with his. You felt his body go slack, his hand falling limp in your grasp. “Nico! No, please! Nico!” You held his body close, your heart breaking all over again as the truth settled over you. The boy who had fought through hell for you, who had bared his soul and faced his deepest fears, was gone.

His last breath had been a promise—a truth you’d never doubted, even when he had hurt you. But now, that truth lay heavy in your arms, lifeless and still. His body felt too small, too fragile, for someone who had carried so much pain, who had survived so much darkness. The only comfort you took was that you would see Nico again. That was a promise.

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