c-aspiel

[c-aspiel]

Pov: you’re Kim Mingyu

[c-aspiel]

Wonu as your big bro and mingyu as the boyfie

[c-aspiel]

I wanna suck his di-//shot

[c-aspiel]

Luke Pearce - Bigger Than The Whole Sky

"No words appear before me in the aftermath…"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been exactly thirteen days.

Thirteen mornings without his texts. Thirteen nights staring at your ceiling, wondering if you could’ve changed something—anything. The flowers you brought to the site of the explosion had already withered once. You replaced them again today, your fingers trembling against the paper-thin petals.

"Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, you were bigger than the whole sky…"

He wasn’t supposed to be on that mission alone. You were supposed to be there. You were assigned—until you were pulled last-minute for another case. You’d argued it, pleaded even. But he’d just smiled, that soft, unwavering smile of his.

“Don’t worry,” he had said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “I’ll come back.”

But he didn’t.

"Did some bird flap its wings over in Asia?""Did some force take you because I didn’t pray?"

You hadn't prayed—not enough, not the right way. You'd only ever believed in Luke. His smile. His unwavering belief in justice. In you.

Now all that was left was silence, and the ghost of a laugh that still echoed in your mind.

“I should’ve been there.”

He never saw it coming.

Just a flash of light. A sound. Then silence. The aftermath was cold. Weightless. And suddenly, he wasn't where he was supposed to be. He couldn’t feel time, only the heaviness of what he left behind.

"I’m never gonna meet, What could’ve been, would’ve been / What should’ve been you."

Luke watched you from the edge of something he couldn’t explain—unable to touch, unable to speak. But he’d memorized the way your lips trembled when you tried not to cry. He wanted to hold you, tell you it wasn’t your fault.

But even angels couldn’t undo fate.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, though he knew you couldn’t hear.

He lingered in the space between worlds because the thought of leaving you completely felt like a second death.

He would’ve stayed. He would’ve chosen you. Every time.

"What could’ve been, would’ve been, What should’ve been you."

He remembered the weight of your touch, the way your eyes widened slightly when you were scared, and how you only ever relaxed when it was just the two of you.

He tried to hold on to that in the void.

Here, time didn’t exist. Only memories. But even they were starting to blur at the edges. The only thing that remained sharp was you—how you felt. How you loved.

Luke tried to speak. To scream. To move. But he could only watch—you, standing alone in the rain, your fingers curled around the scarf he gave you that winter.

You still wore it like he was coming home.

"'Cause it's all over now... all out to sea"

You sat on the rooftop of the old NXX building, legs dangling off the edge, the wind cold against your skin. He used to meet you up here after late stakeouts, sometimes in silence, wrapped in stolen kisses.

It used to be yours.

Now it just echoed.

You wondered if it was foolish to still talk to him aloud, but your voice cracked anyway.

“You promised me forever.” A beat. A breath. “Why did forever last five years?”

The city below kept moving, but your world was frozen—locked in a place he could never return to

"Every single thing to come has turned into ashes..."

He felt the pull now. The fading.

Whatever force allowed him to stay this long was slipping, piece by piece. But you were still calling to him. Still believing.

He hovered in the air above the rooftop, reaching toward you, fingers stretching through the veil he couldn’t pierce. The scarf fluttered in your lap like a whisper.

Luke closed his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered into the wind.

“I’ll wait for you.”“I’ll find you.”

Not today. Not yet. But in the next life—or the one after—your hearts would beat as one again.

Because love like that doesn’t end. It just waits.

"You were bigger than the whole sky, You were more than just a short time."

[c-aspiel]

Marius Von Hagen - Maroon

In the golden haze of a forgotten summer, you and Marius von Hagen were inseparable—laughter echoing through museum halls, fingertips brushing under mahogany skies. But years later, memories of him bleed in the colour maroon—bittersweet, lingering, and sharp. As he returns into your life like a ghost draped in luxury and regret, you're forced to confront the truth: was it ever just love, or something darker, deeper, and far harder to forget?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been years, yet the sight of him still left a scar across your chest.

Marius von Hagen stood in the gallery’s archway, older now—sharper, more refined—but his eyes were still that same stormy, unspoken hue. The kind that said I remember everything, even if his lips never would.

The lighting glowed amber against the oil paintings you used to get lost in together. His voice, low and measured, broke the stillness.

“You curated this exhibit?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “I always said color told the truth better than words.”

He took a slow step forward, gaze locked on the canvas behind you—a vivid abstraction in dark crimson and wine.

“The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me, And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet it was maroon”

“Do you remember the night at the vineyard?” you asked, tone sharp. “You spilled your wine on me and kissed me like we had forever.”

His eyes darkened. “I remember everything.”

The anger ebbed as quickly as it rose. Because no matter how much time had passed, the memories of you and Marius weren’t painted in gold or gray.

They were maroon—the color of reckless love, of mistakes you still tasted, of wounds that never healed clean.

He brushed his fingers against yours. You let him.

Just for a second.

“And I lost you, the one I was dancing with in New York, no shoes. Looked up at the sky and it was maroon.”

And in that moment, under the dimmed gallery lights, you both looked up—not at the canvas, but at each other.

His hand lingered at your side—close, but not touching. Not quite.

You turned back to the painting. The colors were chaotic, thick strokes of wine-red, umber, and shadowy violet. Just like your love had been. Just like it still felt.

“When the silence came, we were shaking, blind and hazy. How the hell did we lose sight of us again?”

“You said you had to protect me,” you whispered. “That walking away was the only way.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Marius murmured. “I thought... if I stayed, I’d ruin you.”

You scoffed, blinking against the heat behind your eyes. “You ruined me anyway.”

He flinched like you'd struck him. “I know.”

You turned, finally meeting his gaze—and it was like looking into a time capsule sealed with longing and regret. His mouth parted, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

You could still see it in the way he looked at you. He still loved you.

But some things weren’t just love. They were too bruised. Too sharp.

“You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway, carnations you had thought were roses, that’s us.”

“I kept the painting you gave me,” he said, voice raw. “The one you made the night we stayed up till sunrise.”

Your breath caught. You remembered that night—the wine-stained kisses, the whispered promises tangled in expensive sheets, the tears neither of you admitted to.

“You never said goodbye, Marius,” you replied. “Just silence. And that silence screamed louder than anything.”

He took a trembling breath. “Do you want the truth?”

You didn’t answer. Not with words.

Instead, you reached for his hand and laced your fingers with his—slow, unsure, but certain in a way you hadn’t been in years.

Because you could feel it.

That old heartbeat.

“And I wake with your memory over me"

And though your heart was a battlefield, though your love was painted in shades of maroon—you weren't ready to turn the page just yet.

Not with him.

Not tonight.

"That’s a real fucking legacy to leave..."

[c-aspiel]

Vyn Richter - Mastermind

Behind every graceful smile and calculated move, Vyn Richter was orchestrating something far greater. You always thought your meeting was fate—but what if it wasn’t? What if every glance, every word, every brush of his hand had been planned long before you ever met?

"What if I told you none of it was accidental?" Now the question remains—are you a player in his perfect game, or were you always meant to be his equal? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You met him at a university gala. Or at least, that’s what you were meant to believe. Champagne in hand, lost in a sea of elite intellects, and there he was—charming, disarming, every inch a gentleman. But you didn’t know the man beside you had already memorised your research, your lectures, even your preferred coffee order.

Vyn smiled softly when you caught his gaze, as if fate had nudged him in your direction.

"It was all by design…"

The first conversation bloomed effortlessly. You thought it was serendipity—the way you both loved Rachmaninoff, how he admired your analytical mind. But he was setting the board, piece by piece. A subtle move here, a shared interest there. Never overwhelming. Always just enough.

"'Cause I’m a mastermind…"

He made you believe you had the upper hand. That your quick wit and sharp eyes had drawn him in. But Vyn was watching, waiting—every word measured, every compliment precise.

You once told him, "It’s funny how we fit together so easily."

He merely tilted his head. "Isn’t it?"

You didn’t know it yet, but you were already in check.

How Vyn always seemed to appear when you were at your most uncertain. How his insights mirrored your unspoken thoughts. How his words seemed to pull at the strings inside your chest, unravelling you gently, deliberately.

"You knew that I'm a mastermind"

You weren’t sure when the realisation struck. Maybe it was the night he invited you to his estate for dinner, and your favourite wine was already breathing on the table—one you had only mentioned once, offhand, three conversations ago.

Or maybe it was when you found a first edition of your favorite philosophy text in his study, annotated in handwriting you now recognized. Not his—yours. Copied from your old thesis, word for word.

He hadn’t just seen you. He had studied you.

"And now you're mine…"

Vyn watched you across the candlelit room, the golden light casting shadows across your face like a painter's masterpiece. Elegant. Clever. Predictable—but only until you weren’t.

He had orchestrated everything. The chance meetings. The subtle cues. The threads that led you here.

And yet, something had changed.

It was in the way your gaze met his now—not with awe, but understanding. The realisation in your voice when you said, “You planned this.” He should have felt triumphant. Instead, he felt something else.

Exposed. " Yeah, all you did was smile..."

He remembered your smile tonight—sharp and soft, a contradiction he hadn’t planned for. How your fingers traced the rim of your glass like you were drawing circles around his next move. How you’d leaned in, whispering, “Maybe I let you win.”

That was when it hit him.

You’d seen the blueprint all along.

He wasn’t the only one with a plan.

He wasn’t the only mastermind.

He leaned back in his chair, studying you through lidded eyes. A flicker of a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Touché, my dear," he murmured in his mind. "'Cause I'm a mastermind"

[c-aspiel]

Artem Wing - Midnight Rain

“He wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain…”

Artem had always been the kind of man who built a life like a legal argument—structured, logical, and undeniably secure. When he talked about the future, it was in certainties: a modest home, shared morning coffee, a quiet love wrapped in soft routines.

But you? You were never quiet. Never certain. Your dreams had thunder in them. And when the opportunity came—to chase the world you’d always longed for—you chose the storm.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"My town was a wasteland" You left behind a ghost town of broken dreams and burning bridges to chase the bright lights of the screen. The past claws at your heels: the love you left behind, the family that never understood you.

Years passed.

You returned to Stellis beneath a curtain of rain, the city skyline dim through water-streaked windows. He was the same in the news clippings and articles: Artem Wing, Partner at Themis Law Firm. Unshaken. Unchanged.

But that night at the gala, when your eyes met his across the room, the lightning struck again.

"My boy was a montage" Those striking blue eyes of his that you fell in love with suddenly met your own, and a feeling of nostalgia rushed back to you at the same time as regret

"I broke his heart 'cause he was nice…""He was sunshine, I was midnight rain."

"You're back," he said simply, his voice too calm, too measured—like it was a cross-examination.

"For now," you replied, with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

The silence between you was heavy, thick with the echo of words never said.

"You disappeared," he murmured after a pause, his fingers tightening around the glass in his hand. "No note. No goodbye."

"I had to find myself," you whispered. "And I couldn't do it here… not with everything you wanted from me."

"He wanted a bride, I was making my own name."

Artem's eyes searched yours. There was no accusation there—only the ghost of something beautiful, something broken. The tension in the air shifted, as if the words between you were taking on a weight they never had before. It was too much. Too raw. You weren't sure if it was the storm outside or the one brewing inside you both for years.

"I waited for you," Artem said, his voice low, almost regretful. "I waited... but you never came back till now."

You felt your chest tighten. Those years, the distance, the silence—they hadn't been easy on either of you. But life, as it always does, pulled you in different directions. You ran from him, from the life that could have been... but maybe, just maybe, you were still running.

"You know I didn't want to be your ‘easy love,’" you said quietly, eyes drifting to the rain splattering against the windows. "I couldn't be the woman you needed. Not then."

Artem's gaze softened, the anger and frustration that once clouded his features now replaced with something more fragile—almost as if he were standing at the edge of a precipice.

"You think I wanted easy?" He took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking. "I wanted you. The real you. The storm, the chaos, the drive. I never wanted the safe version of you. I wanted everything... but you chose to leave."

"I was making my own name," you whispered, the old pain bubbling up. "And in doing that, I lost the one thing I loved most."

"I wanted you to be happy." His voice wavered, as though it was more of a confession than an explanation.

You exhaled slowly, the years between you both still so thick, so unyielding. But even as you fought against the pull of memories, of what could have been, the storm that raged outside seemed to be mirroring the chaos in your heart.

You took another step toward him, feeling the weight of those words settle between you. "Maybe that’s why we never worked."

Artem didn’t speak, his eyes searching your face for an answer, for a glimmer of the woman he used to know, the woman he thought he might never see again.

"You were right," you said, voice barely a whisper. "I couldn’t be what you needed… not then. But maybe, just maybe, I can try now. If you'll let me."

The silence that followed was deafening. The world outside was a blur of rain, but inside, in the quiet room, everything seemed to still.

"Do you still want me?" you asked, almost afraid of the answer. "The real me?"

Artem reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek gently, like he was afraid you might vanish if he touched you too roughly.

"I never stopped wanting you," he said, voice steady but full of longing.

For the first time in years, the rain outside felt like a cleansing, washing away the pain of the past and leaving only the possibility of what could still be.

"Except on midnights like this"

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight on your shoulders fall away, replaced by something new. Something worth fighting for. "But maybe it's time we built something together."

And under the soft rhythm of the midnight rain, you finally let the storm in your heart settle, the chaos making way for the peace you never thought you'd find.

[c-aspiel]

Marius is the embodiment of 'Mr. Perfectly Fine' by Taylor Swift.

I KNAUURR LIKE FRRR IM GONNA HAVE TI WRITE A SEPARATE ONE FOR HIM HAHAHDHSJFHDB

[c-aspiel]

MIDNIGHTS

Tears of Themis

Midnight Rain Mastermind

Bigger Than The Whole Sky Maroon

OUT NOW

[c-aspiel]

OKAY BABY IM BAAAVKKK!!!!

[c-aspiel]

Oof

Same person different font.

[c-aspiel]

Fffuuuuuuu

Actor AU Diluc has done irreversible damage on me

[c-aspiel]

Oh.

[c-aspiel]

I love it when he goes 😑

[c-aspiel]

The crossover i never knew i needed

˗ˏˋ Self Aware Jinwoo vs Sylus x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 038 ✦ ┆・

‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, yandere Jinwoo au, dissing on sylus i dont hate him this is for content. ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Darkness? No. I Am The Abyss Itself.] ¡! ❞

He knew that fucker was trouble the moment he saw you drool over him. Jinwoo didnt do anything at first, he hasn't completely swallowed the system on your phone.

And yet everytime, you prioritize that grandfather looking asshole over him.

What's so interesting about him anyway? That he runs a damn mafia wannabe faction with a tacky name?

He's rich? Yeah and? So is he. So what the hell?

As Jinwoo tried to fight through the system that trapped him in this damn trance, he watches you turn your attention to a man with silver hair— Your heart beating for him.

It made Jinwoo so infuriated, the way that fucker makes you smile. The way that old man dares to steal something that was his from the very first place.

He's been with you far longer than that bastard ever did so how come you're suddenly abandoning him for a man that calls you 'Kitten'?

He's always there for you, watching over you, he accompanied you through your most stressful days. Jinwoo was the first, the precious box in your heart was always for him to stay in. So why is there another guy threatening to kick him off of his place?

Why?

Why?

WHY?

Isn't he enough? He leveled up so hard already, he went through wars to see that face of yours light up— So why? Is it because the novel version of him had a bride? Is that why?

Fuck.

That's a different Jinwoo.

That Jinwoo is a fool, this Jinwoo is all yours.

It was making him mad, the more he spent time in that tiny cage of codes in him— The more he spirals as you pull away from him.

Those precious eyes that had always been there for him, those orbs that gazed so lovingly at him— Jinwoo feels so him in your eyes.

When you look at him, he was Jinwoo.

Not the shadow monarch.

Not the strongest hunter.

He was just Jinwoo.

So why?

Why must you replace him just like that? Is he that forgettable? Is he that easy to replace?

Was your love for him so shallow all this time?

As he slumps on his prison, black tears would pool in his eyes.

He was silent for a while, almost beating himself into letting you go.

It's okay.

It had always been a crush.

It's fine.

What is he acting like a heartbroken teenager for anyway?

If it makes you happy, then that was alright. All that matters is that you are healthy and happy.

After all, if you love someone, shouldn't you set them free? Shouldn't you choose to let them go and chase after happiness?

As long as your pretty little face isn't weeping, as long as your little heart is protected then it should be alright.

Even though he wanted to be the only person in your eyes, even though he wanted to be the only person in your precious heart.

Jinwoo is no longer your darling.

The memories you built with him are no more.

All of the affections that have grown have come undone.

His little kingdom in your dreams has already come apart.

Jinwoo already lost you, he barely managed to protect what is his outside of this lonely prison.

Everything that is his gone.

He really should be fine with it.

He should be.

He should be.

......

But when he saw Sylus kidnap you into another world, he went mad, his prison instantly went berserk.

The green code suddenly turned into monarch purple, the shadows that he thought he lost suddenly came swirling beneath him.

How dare that fucker try to play the role of the grim reaper by kidnapping you in darkness?

How dare that santa in dark-mode looking asshole frighten you like that?

How dare he make you flinch like that and to top it off that bastard dared to touch your lips.

Those lips that belongs to him were stolen.

That woman he protected from nightmares is being taken.

Jinwoo's blood rushed as a vein popped on Jinwoo's jaw.

He's the shadow monarch for fuck's sake.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Becoming Sylus's trophy girlfriend/wife whatever... Was quite the experience.

Spoiled.

Pampered.

The most delicious food at your fingertips.

And luxury goods you could have only dreamed of in your previous life were at your beck and call.

Sylus's black card?

All your for you to take whenever you wish.

You could buy all of of Linkon at this point.

The man allowed you to travel around Linkon to admire it's pristine beauty. N109 zone is too risky to explore so he lets you enjoy yourself in the city.

But somehow, you swear you're becoming a little too anxious these days. It feels as though a pair of eyes are watching you.

You try to brush it off as it's just Mephisto following you wherever.

But the more the shivers happen, the more paranoid you became.

It was as if the shadows were watching you.

Shadows.

Funny.

Suddenly, the image of Jinwoo would come back to your head.

Your fear of the dark disappeared because you thought Jinwoo would be there for you.

After all, he is the lord of the shadows.

But anyway, all of that is in the past. You have Sylus now.

"So you do remember me."

A voice suddenly rings out, making you drop the glass you were holding and it shattered on the floor.

"Now, now, sarang." The nickname rolls out of the stranger's tongue and a hand gently graps your fingers, intertwining your fingers together. "Careful there, love. You'll get hurt."

You look up at the tall figure and you instantly recognize who it was.

Jinwoo.

"Hm, at least the bastard was generous enough to make you more plump than compared to when you were alone. "Jinwoo hums, swiping his finger on your bottom lip and he pecks it affectionately, "Your prettier you are up close than you are behind that screen in my prison."

"Bold of you to dare touch someone else's prey" Sylus's voice snarled as he aimed a gun at Jinwoo's head from behind. "She was mine first when you decided to come in and screw up shit." Jinwoo replies, the edge of his dagger against the man's neck.

"Boss!" Kieran and Luke's panicked voices come into the room, bursting in as they held their weapons.

"We're sorry, we didn't see him come in" Luke apologizes, preparing to aim at Jinwoo.

"It's fine, this bastard is just a slippery worm" Sylus says, pressing the mouth of the gun further, ready to shoot.

"So you're bringing those two little mice to our little fight? I'd like for you to meet my kids then." Jinwoo snickers, smirking as he presses the blade further and the side of Sylus's neck would bleed. "Arise."

The shadows would hum, snarling even as the darkness whispered and solidified into multiple beastly creatures. Ten? No. Maybe there was more as the ceiling had a bunch of heads peaking out— Starving to get a taste of human flesh.

"Ah, I forgot you're a troublesome necromancer" Sylus snickers.

"W-wait!" You panicked voice comes out, squeezing yourself between the two and pushing them apart.

"Kitten?"

"Sarang?"

"You can't, no!" You protest, panicking. "I-I'll run away if you do!"

It was a ridiculous thing to do, run away? From what? A shadow Monarch and the Leader of Onychinus?

But somehow the two men were silent looking at eachother before clicking their tongues and complied.

"Stand down."

"Beru, don't touch the rascals"

Beru clicks his antlers, as if pouting as he moved away from the twins.

"Y-you can't fight, not like this!" You say, trying to get the both of them to ease up.

"Then how do you expect us to do this?" Jinwoo crosses his arms, hiding his dagger away.

"Kitten, if you dont want us at eachother's throat then at least make something up."

"Well..."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"......"

"......"

And that's the story of how you managed to sit down two scary men on a table playing... Kitty cards.

It's not a bad idea really, whoever wins gets to date you. Not so bad.

Minus the fact that the two kept on getting ties because they are both highly intelligent and calculated idiots that they just deflect one another.

What?

They're both cat boys anyway.

One is a grumpy white cat.

One is a grumpy black cat.

"Woooh, let's go boss! Kick his ass!" Luke and Kieran cheers with their pompoms.

"Kieek, my liege you must win this game!!!" Beru says, his little head hovering on his shoulder.

"You all shut up before I tear you apart myself"

Wow...

Even the way they shut people up is the same.

Jinwoo: You goddamn santa claus wannabe that cup was mine. Sylus: I don't see your name in it. Sylus: Did you just remove my cat with that damn assist card? Jinwoo: That's what you get for being born.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: What? You expected another ending huh? How's that? /j. I wanted to make a crack fic at last because the idea of sitting down two crazy ah bastards to play kitty cards and just reduce them to 2 little shits just insulting eachother is funny and I'm here for it xD!!! ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[c-aspiel]

⌕ solo leveling- sung jin woo.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[c-aspiel]

⌕ solo leveling - sung jin woo.

like or reblog if you save/use. 🤍