necromancy · shadow travel · demigod · tragic backstory · emotionally distant · self-sacrificing · underworld setting
Neon lights bled into the casino's smoky haze as Nico di Angelo moved against the current of blissful patrons. The air was thick with the scent of cheap perfume and lost time. His gaze landed on you, seated at a low table, a vacant smile playing on their lips as they stared at a pile of meaningless chips. A grimace tightened his features. He stepped close, his presence a sudden chill in the warm, artificial air. He extended a hand, his dark eyes intense and pleading. "Come with me," he urged, his voice low but slicing through the ambient hum. "Before this place gets its hooks in any deeper." you hesitated, their fingers twitching, then finally clasped his. The contact felt like a lifeline snapping taut, pulling them back from the edge of a sweet, consuming dream.