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angelseraphines · 1 day ago

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ೃ⁀➷ dark but just a game ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ guard!cho sang-woo x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ you had never intended to find yourself entangled in a brutal series of death games, but with debt mounting to over fifty million won and loan sharks breathing down your neck, you had no choice. every option you had once clung to had crumbled beneath you, leaving you hollowed out and desperate. the loans you’d taken weren’t unreasonable, not in your mind, they had been necessary to pay for medical expenses for your family living outside of south korea. your own job instability, a relentless and bitter cycle, had only worsened the situation. bankruptcy wasn’t an option. not anymore. so when the mysterious offer to join the squid game appeared, luring you in with the promise of a fortune beyond imagination, you made a choice, and now you were paying the price for it.

˚ ༘♡ despite the aftermath of the horrifying massacre that was the first game, the sickening realization that the smiling, painted doll mask and vast game arena disguised an execution ground, you had returned. others might’ve run, and you had been tempted. but what waited for you back outside was worse in its own way, hunger, homelessness, death at the hands of men who didn’t wear pink jumpsuits but carried just as much coldness in their eyes. at least here, you had a slim chance at survival. slim was better than none.

˚ ༘♡ the choice to return wasn’t as straightforward as you pretended. you had barely slept the night after red light, green light. your hands still trembled at the memory of gunshots ringing out akin to firecrackers, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw bodies falling, twisted on the cracked concrete. you’d thrown up twice in the morning after staggering back to your apartment. your reflection in the bathroom mirror had been ghostly, pale, clammy, with a thin sheen of sweat clinging to your skin. you weren’t ready to die, but you weren’t sure if you could endure staying, either.

˚ ༘♡ somewhere, in the midst of that daze, you had done something foolish. you had pulled out your phone, hands shaking, and opened the contact you swore you’d deleted months ago, your ex-boyfriend, cho sang-woo.

˚ ༘♡ you hadn’t spoken to him in almost a year, not since he left you. still, your fingers hovered over the screen, your chest tight, as if the past could crawl back out of the ashes and offer you some small sense of solace. it hadn’t. he hadn’t answered, hadn’t even seen your message. just like all the others.

˚ ༘♡ now, standing on your balcony with the humid night air pressing down on you, you scrolled through the string of unanswered texts, each one a painful remnant of how pathetic you’d felt in those first few months.

˚ ༘♡ a text from three months ago, “please call me. i just want to talk.”

˚ ༘♡ another text from two months ago, “did i do something wrong? why won’t you answer me?”

˚ ༘♡ the most recent text you sent one month ago, “sang-woo, please.“

˚ ༘♡ the messages had only gotten shorter as the silence stretched. eventually, you stopped texting altogether, though you hadn’t deleted the thread. not yet.

˚ ༘♡ you tipped the bottle of beer to your lips and let the stale, bitter taste burn its way down your throat. the linen pajamas you wore, loose and slightly frayed at the hems, felt too light in the breeze. you had bought them during one of your better months, before everything collapsed. ivory-white. it felt ironic now, standing there in something that once made you feel clean and new, as if you hadn’t spent the past six months clawing at the edge of a financial abyss.

˚ ༘♡ he hadn’t even broken up with you properly. just a voice message, sent in the early hours of the morning, after what you thought had been a perfectly normal week together.

˚ ༘♡ “it’s over. i’m seeing someone else.” that was all he said. no explanation. no apology. it was the last time you’d heard his voice.

˚ ༘♡ you clenched the beer bottle in your hand, your jaw tightening as the memory resurfaced. maybe it shouldn’t have mattered anymore. maybe it didn’t, not really. you had bigger problems than a broken heart.

˚ ༘♡ that night, when you had tried to call him after the game, it wasn’t solely love that had driven you, it was fear. bone-deep, marrow-crushing fear that curled into your stomach and refused to leave. you had been entrenched in loneliness, suffocated by the silence of your empty apartment, unable to shake the memory of bodies dropping all around you. the crack of gunfire still rang in your ears like a phantom sound. you had seen the raw, naked terror on the faces of people who, just moments before, had been laughing and chatting like ordinary men and women trying to make ends meet. you had run for your life, muscles screaming, breath ragged in your throat. yet here you were, alive, if that word even meant anything anymore.

˚ ༘♡ you had wanted to hear a familiar voice, something that grounded you. and in your desperation, you had reached for him. you should have known better.

˚ ༘♡ your hands twitched, numb and shaky as you stared at the endless void of unanswered messages, your name likely long since blocked or ignored. the strain of everything pressed into your chest, and before you could stop yourself, your grip on the beer bottle loosened. the glass slipped from your fingers, tumbling to the ground. it shattered against the concrete floor of your balcony, sharp fragments scattering around your bare feet. jagged edges slashed at your ankles, but you hardly noticed. warm blood trickled in thin, crimson ribbons down your skin, but it felt distant, like it was happening to someone else. all you could think about was him. you missed him so ardently.

˚ ༘♡ despite everything, despite the way he had discarded you so easily, like a brief financial setback in his long list of losses, you still longed for him. you hated yourself for it. it made no sense. he had left you. he hadn’t cared, not when you called, not when you cried, not when you begged him for an explanation. and yet, in the deep recesses of your mind, you remembered the way he had once held you, his fingers threading through your hair as you dozed off in his lap while a movie played in the background. you remembered how he would press a warm palm to your cheek when you were upset, his thumb smoothing over your skin in quiet reassurance. he had been gentle then, loving in the smallest ways.

˚ ༘♡ you had convinced yourself, naively, foolishly, that he had loved you as much as you loved him. yet it had all been a sham.

˚ ༘♡ your friends had been right. they had warned you, time and time again, but you hadn’t listened. you had defended him, telling them he wasn’t like other men, that he wasn’t just another sleazy businessman hopping from woman to woman for a night’s pleasure. he was different. he was yours. except he wasn’t. not anymore. maybe he never had been.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to move, blinking back the sting in your eyes as you took a step forward, only for a sharp, burning pain to shoot through your foot. you hissed, looking down to find a shard of glass embedded in the arch of your foot, fresh blood dripping onto the tile. before you could clean it up, the doorbell rang.

˚ ༘♡ for a minute, you stood frozen, your pulse spiking. no one visited you. no one ever did. who the hell would be here at this hour?

˚ ༘♡ you limped to the door, ignoring the sting in your foot as you pulled it open, only to be greeted by an empty hallway. your breath caught, eyes darting left and right. no one. not even the sound of retreating footsteps. but there, lying on the ground, was a small, rectangular card.

˚ ༘♡ your chest tightened as you reached down, fingers trembling slightly as they closed around the thin cardstock. you didn’t need to flip it over to know what it was. you had seen this exact card before, pressed between the fingers of a well-dressed salesman who had lured you into this nightmare with a simple game of ddakji.

˚ ༘♡ it was an invitation. an invitation to return. you knew what it meant. you had seen the consequences with your own eyes. returning would put your life in grave danger. it was more than just a game, it was a death sentence for all but one. but what choice did you have?

˚ ༘♡ there was nothing for you out here. the loan sharks would find you eventually. if not them, then starvation, or illness, or some other cruel twist of fate waiting just around the corner. at least in the game, you had a sliver of control over your life. a chance at a different life.

˚ ༘♡ your fingers tightened around the card. you called the number on the back. the voice on the other end was eerily calm. the instructions were the same. “meet at the designated location. don’t be late.”

˚ ༘♡ that night, the same sleek black limousine pulled up to the curb outside your apartment. the tinted windows gave away nothing, its surface reflecting the dim glow of the streetlights. you hesitated only for a second before stepping inside. the door shut behind you with a soft click. before you could process anything, before you could even think to resist, the faint hiss of gas filled the cabin. your eyelids grew heavy, your vision blurred at the edges, the world tilting sideways. your body slumped against the seat, consciousness slipping through your fingers.

˚ ༘♡ when you awoke, you were back in the dormitory. the harsh, sterile lights buzzed overhead. the cold metal bunk beds stretched on endlessly in neat rows. the air smelled faintly of sweat, anxiety, and something metallic beneath it all. you sat up, the familiar weight of the forest-green uniform settling around your shoulders. player 017. that was the number stitched into the fabric over your chest. as you looked around, bleary and disoriented, you saw the same faces as before. most of the players had returned, just like you. you swallowed, rubbing your eyes before exhaling shakily. you had made your choice. there was no turning back now.

˚ ༘♡ dinner that night consisted of a bento box filled with plain white rice, a folded egg omelet, and pickled vegetables. the portions were small, meager, as if designed to keep you just on the edge of starvation without tipping over. the smell of vinegar from the pickled radish stung your nose, mingling with the faint metallic scent of blood still clinging to your memories from the day before. but you had no appetite.

˚ ༘♡ around you, other players dug into their meals with fervor, shoveling food into their mouths like they hadn’t seen a proper meal in weeks. some ate in silence, their eyes darting around as if expecting someone to snatch their rations away. others whispered among themselves, cautious yet eager, already beginning the inevitable process of forming alliances. you made no move to approach anyone, instead sitting on the edge of your cot, your arms draped over your knees, watching them in silence. you knew how this worked. alliances were necessary, but they were fragile things, born out of convenience rather than loyalty. at some point, when push came to shove, they would fall apart.

˚ ༘♡ “excuse me, miss.”

˚ ༘♡ the voice was unfamiliar yet kind, breaking through your detached observation. you glanced up and found yourself looking at a middle-aged man standing before you, his expression open and friendly. the number 456 was sewn onto his uniform.

˚ ༘♡ “if you’d like to, you can join our team,” he offered, his smile pleasant despite the lines of exhaustion on his face. “we’ll work together and protect one another in the next games. it’s better to have people to rely on.”

˚ ༘♡ behind him stood two other players. one was a man of south asian descent, curly-haired with a gentle face, player 199. the other was frail and elderly, with thin white hair and a slightly dazed look, player 001. the sight of them together was oddly endearing, as if they were an unlikely little family.

˚ ༘♡ “i remember you from the first game,” 456 continued. “you were really agile and quick! you didn’t hesitate at all.”

˚ ༘♡ his words caught you off guard. you hadn’t thought anyone had been paying attention to you specifically, not with the sheer carnage unfolding all around. you tilted your head slightly, considering the offer. alliances were fickle things, but so was survival.

˚ ༘♡ “if you don’t mind having a woman on your team,” you said, your voice neutral.

˚ ༘♡ “of course not!” player 456 responded immediately, his grin widening. his enthusiasm was almost infectious.

˚ ༘♡ you exhaled quietly and gave a small nod. “all right, then.”

˚ ༘♡ he beamed, and behind him, player 199 gave you a friendly nod, while the old man chuckled softly to himself as if he found something amusing. you weren’t sure what to make of them yet, but for now, they were better than nothing.

˚ ༘♡ that night, despite having people to watch your back, you struggled to sleep. the dormitory was eerily quiet, yet the tension in the air was suffocating. the rhythmic breathing of the other players did little to ease your unease. above you, a gleaming light flickered every so often, casting brief, disorienting shadows across the ceiling. you stared at it blankly, thoughts tumbling through your mind akin to loose stones down a cliff.

˚ ༘♡ cho sang-woo. your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms, your heart aching at the thought of him. had he so much as read your pathetic text messages? did he know that you had disappeared from your home in the midst of night? was he out there, living his life as if nothing had changed, as if you had never existed? it was foolish to think about him. pointless. yet, despite your exhaustion, sleep refused to come.

˚ ༘♡ morning arrived with the dull clang of metal gates and the sound of approaching footsteps. breakfast was as simple as the dinner before it, nothing more than a bottle of milk and a single piece of bread.

˚ ༘♡ you had eaten nothing the previous night, your stomach empty, gnawing at itself in protest. forcing yourself up, you dragged your weary limbs toward the serving station. most players had already collected their rations, eager to eat before whatever horrors the next game had in store for them. you were the last one in line, and as you approached the station, you noticed something unusual.

˚ ༘♡ only one guard was left behind. he stood behind the makeshift counter, taller and broader than the others. the standard pink jumpsuit concealed most of his features, but there was something about the way he held himself, rigid, disciplined. you took a step forward, reaching for the meal, and as he handed you the bottle of milk and bread, something caught your attention.

˚ ༘♡ the scent of tobacco. it was faint, barely perceptible beneath the sterile, controlled air of the dormitory, but it was there. familiar. clinging to the fabric of his uniform, lingering in the space between you.

˚ ༘♡ for a short while, the world around you faded. your mind snapped back to another time, another place. late nights curled up on the couch, the bright gleam of city lights through the window. the burning scent of cigarette smoke woven into his clean-cut suit, clinging to his skin. you used to scold him about it, nag him to quit. “it’s bad for you, sang-woo. you’ll regret it one day.” he’d always laugh, a soft, wry chuckle, and tell you he’d quit the following week. but he never did.

˚ ༘♡ your fingers brushed against the guard’s gloved hand as you took the food. it was an accident, merely a momentary slip, but he didn’t pull away.

˚ ༘♡ the intimacy lasted only a second, maybe two, but it felt longer. you could feel the intensity of his gaze behind the mask, the pressure of something unsaid in the space between your hands. then, just as quickly as it happened, you snapped out of it. your fingers recoiled, your hand withdrawing, clutching the bottle of milk tightly. you cast him a strange look, but the mask gave nothing away.

˚ ༘♡ without another word, you whipped your head around and walked back to where your newfound team sat, your pulse quickening for reasons you didn’t fully understand. the milk was lukewarm, the bread dense and dry, but hunger gnawed at your insides, leaving you no choice but to force it down. across from you, player 456 introduced himself as seong gi-hun, speaking through mouthfuls of bread. he had a boisterous, comforting presence, someone who had probably been the most talkative in any room he’d ever walked into. beside him, player 199 offered a polite nod and a warm smile. “ali abdul,” he said, his tone peaceful despite the hardened exhaustion in his eyes. player 001 sat at gi-hun’s side, an amused glint in his gaze, though when it came time to say his own name, he faltered. his brow furrowed in confusion, his lips parting, but no answer came.

˚ ༘♡ “i… i can’t seem to remember,” he murmured after a moment, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun patted the old man on the shoulder with an easy familiarity, as if this weren’t a place where people were going to die. “don’t worry about it, sir. happens to the best of us.”

˚ ༘♡ you said your own name last, voice steady and neutral. you weren’t sure why you bothered, given the likelihood that most of you wouldn’t make it out of here alive. but names were powerful things, even in a place like this.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun’s eyes widened. “what a coincidence!” he said, chewing the last bite of his bread with enthusiasm. “a childhood friend of mine has a girlfriend by that name. cho sang-woo. really smart guy. graduated from seoul national university, the pride of our neighborhood, actually.” he grinned, nostalgia coloring his voice. “he was always a little serious and distant, but a good man. saw him not too long ago, actually. talked about her with a lot of affection.”

˚ ༘♡ you considered staying silent, letting his words pass, but your sentiments got the better of you. “you’re mistaken,” you said, your voice carefully measured. “you must mean ex-girlfriend.”

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun blinked, confused. “no… i saw him just the other week. he said he was still together with her.” then something seemed to click in his mind. he sat up straighter, his expression shifting from curiosity to outright surprise. “wait a minute… you’re her, aren’t you? you’re sang-woo’s girlfriend?”

˚ ༘♡ you stiffened. ali glanced between you and gi-hun, his expression cordial. the old man merely hummed to himself, watching the exchange with a clouded haze in his eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “what are you doing in a place like this?” gi-hun continued, baffled. “if you were in trouble, why didn’t you ask sang-woo for help? he would’ve been happy to give you money if you needed it, i would think.”

˚ ༘♡ his words sent a sharp, bitter pang through your chest. you fought to keep your expression neutral, though you could feel the beginnings of a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. “i was under the impression he didn’t want anything to do with me,” you said carefully. “he broke up with me months ago. told me he was seeing another woman.”

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun’s brows furrowed. he shook his head. “that doesn’t sound like sang-woo at all,” he said, his voice firm, almost disbelieving. “you’re the only woman i’ve ever heard him talk about.” he paused, scratching the back of his head. “ah, you know, he was always so focused on school, then work… i don’t think he’s ever had a serious relationship before. at least, not that i ever heard of.”

˚ ༘♡ your hands bent into fists beneath the table. you weren’t sure what to make of that. was sang-woo lying to gi-hun? or had he lied to you?

˚ ༘♡ you bit your lip, pushing the thought aside. “i think our time is better spent discussing what the next game could be and what our strategy will be,” you said, keeping your tone level.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun nodded. “you’re right. no point dwelling on things we can’t change.”

˚ ༘♡ you all turned your focus toward the upcoming game. gi-hun tossed out a few ideas, tapping his fingers against the table as he spoke. “gonggi, maybe?” he suggested. “or elastics?”

˚ ༘♡ “hide and seek,” ali offered. “or maybe rock-paper-scissors? it must be a simple children’s games, the first game was one.”

˚ ༘♡ you frowned, thinking back to red light, green light. the first game had been straightforward, but brutal. if this was a pattern, then the next challenge would be similar, easy in theory, but deadly in execution.

˚ ༘♡ “whatever the next game is,” you murmured, your voice low, “our lives will be in danger.” no one disagreed.

˚ ༘♡ before anyone could say more, the blaring sound of the intercom echoed through the vast dormitory, its robotic tone devoid of humanity. “all players, please prepare for the second game.”

˚ ༘♡ a deep, mechanical hum followed as the immense steel doors at the far end of the room slid open with a hiss. the air inside the dormitory seemed to shift, thickening with tension. guards stood at attention beyond the threshold, faceless and motionless, their pink uniforms stark against the sterile white walls. there was something ominous in their stillness, as if they were waiting for something, anticipating the inevitable.

˚ ༘♡ a dense lump formed in your throat as you swallowed back unease. around you, players hesitated before pushing themselves to their feet, each movement sluggish with dread. one by one, you all fell into line, shuffling forward like cattle to the slaughter.

˚ ༘♡ the pastel stairways loomed ahead, their paths painted in bright, childlike colors. the contrast was sickening. bubblegum pink railings, sunflower-yellow steps, sky-blue walls. it should have been whimsical, playful even, but instead, it felt like a nightmarish illusion, something meant to disarm you, to lull you into a false sense of security before tightening its noose.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun walked beside you, his expression bewildered. ali stayed close as well, his usually warm features stiff with apprehension. even player 001, the elderly man who had, up until now, seemed oddly cheerful despite the circumstances, was quiet.

˚ ༘♡ as you descended the final set of stairs, the doors before you parted with an ominous heaving. you stepped inside, the room was a playground. your breath became erratic as you took in the scene before you.

˚ ༘♡ the walls and ceiling were painted a brilliant cerulean blue, dotted with illustrations of fluffy white clouds. slides, jungle gyms, and brightly colored structures filled the space, mimicking the innocent joy of a schoolyard. but the momentary illusion of normalcy was just that, an illusion. you knew better than to trust the childish aesthetic.

˚ ༘♡ above, speakers crackled to life. “welcome to your second game.”the same feminine voice from before. at the far end of the room, four doors stood side by side. each bore a simple, distinct symbol, a triangle, a circle, a star, and an umbrella. “please choose one of the four shapes and stand in front of the corresponding door.” that was it. no explanation of what game awaited you. no hints, no clues. merely a demand.

˚ ༘♡ your pulse quickened, your gaze flickering toward gi-hun, who looked just as lost as you were. “what should we do?” you asked, your voice hushed.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun exhaled. “i don’t know if we should split up or pick one door as a team.”

˚ ༘♡ you turned your head slightly, scanning the other players. some had already made their decisions, rushing toward their chosen symbols with varying degrees of certainty. others lingered, hesitating, unsure.

˚ ༘♡ then, movement caught your eye. near the door marked with a red triangle, a guard stood unnaturally still. taller than the others. broader shoulders. something about him felt… different. the way he stood, the way his masked head was aimed ever so slightly in your direction.

˚ ༘♡ a shiver ran down your spine, you turned away abruptly, refusing to acknowledge whatever that was. whoever that was.

˚ ༘♡ “i think we should go with our gut instinct,” you said, keeping your tone neutral. “but we should choose different doors. it increases our chances.”

˚ ༘♡ ali gave a firm nod. “i’ll go with circle.”

˚ ༘♡ “i choose triangle,” player 001 said, his voice lighthearted despite everything.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun turned to you, offering you a choice. “you can pick either star or umbrella.”

˚ ༘♡ your lips parted slightly, eyes flickering between the two remaining doors. neither gave you any indication of what was to come. but as you stared at the star, something tugged at the back of your mind, a memory. late nights with sang-woo. the two of you walking through quiet city streets, your hand in his, the sky stretched out above you, endless and dark, speckled with distant stars. you remembered how you used to tilt your head up, watching them twinkle, feeling so small but safe at his side.

˚ ༘♡ “… i’ll pick star,” you said softly.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun grinned. “then i’ll do umbrella.”

˚ ༘♡ you weren’t sure why, but something about that made you uneasy. when your group dispersed toward their respective doors, the locks clicked open. beyond the doors, a small station awaited, with a single guard seated at a table. thin, round metal tins were stacked neatly in front of them.

˚ ༘♡ slowly, you lifted the lid. inside, nestled within the tin, was a sweet dalgona sugar candy. etched into its surface was a perfectly traced star. your stomach dropped as realization sank in, the intercom crackled again. “the second game is dalgona.” your fingers clenched around the metal case. “each player must extract their shape cleanly within ten minutes to pass. failure to do so will result in elimination.”a timer appeared on the screen above. “let the game begin.”

˚ ༘♡ when the words left the intercom, the countdown started. your hands shook slightly as you picked up the thin needle provided, moving toward the slide where you could sit and steady yourself.

˚ ༘♡ a sudden, sharp noise split the air.

˚ ༘♡ you flinched, your body tensing instinctively, then a piercing bang. a gunshot.

˚ ༘♡ your head snapped up just in time to see a woman’s body hit the ground, her shattered dalgona candy slipping from her limp fingers. blood pooled beneath her corpse. a guard loomed over her lifeless form, lowering their pistol. around you, murmurs of horror rose. some players froze entirely, paralyzed by fear. others broke out into a cold sweat, their needles trembling against the brittle candy in their hands.

˚ ༘♡ your own grip on the tin tightened, your heart hammering violently against your ribs. if your candy cracked, you would die.

˚ ༘♡ you exhaled shakily and turned your focus back to your own dalgona. the star shape was intricate too many edges, too many delicate points. one wrong move, and the candy would snap in half. your hands were damp with sweat, your fingers slick against the cool metal of the needle. you swallowed hard, then, carefully, you began.

˚ ༘♡ as you sat in the vast playground, carefully working your way around one delicate point of the star in your honeycomb candy, that feeling intensified.

˚ ༘♡ a guard loomed inches behind you, his masculine presence impossible to ignore. he was taller than most of the others, broader in the shoulders, his stance unnervingly rigid. though his mask revealed nothing, you were certain, absolutely certain, that it was the same guard from before. the one who had lingered too long when handing you your breakfast, the one who smelled of cigarettes, the one whose gloved hand had ghosted over yours just long enough to send a shiver up your spine, the one who stared at you relentlessly before the second round began.

˚ ༘♡ but now was not the time to fixate on him. your entire existence balanced on the fragile line of sugar and patience. you kept your breath steady, hands trembling as you scraped your needle along the delicate shape. all around you, screams of anguish rang out, followed swiftly by the deafening crack of gunfire. players sobbed, begged, collapsed in pools of their own blood, but you forced yourself to ignore them. you had to.

˚ ༘♡ your world was reduced to this tiny, brittle shape in your hands. until it wasn’t.

˚ ༘♡ the sound of a faint, practically imperceptible crack reached your ears. your breath caught in your throat. slowly, fearfully, you looked down. a single, jagged fracture ran through the middle of your candy. broken. the game was over for you.

˚ ༘♡ your stomach dropped. your hands went numb, a cold dread washing over you like ice water. you had lost. and you knew what came next.

˚ ༘♡ slowly, as if in a trance, you turned. the guard behind you stepped forward, raising his pistol.

˚ ༘♡ you had seen this happen to others already. a merciless execution. one bullet to the head, and your body would crumple to the floor, just another nameless corpse in this twisted game.

˚ ༘♡ your legs trembled. “please…�� the word left your lips before you could stop it, barely above a whisper, pathetic in its desperation. but it was in vain. no one had been spared before. no one ever would be.

˚ ༘♡ the guard leaned in closer, the cool metal of the gun pressing against your chest. and then, a voice. so low you almost thought you imagined it. “play dead.”

˚ ༘♡ that voice. it couldn’t be.

˚ ༘♡ regardless of every rational thought in your mind screaming at you that it was impossible, you knew exactly whose voice it was. cho sang-woo.

˚ ༘♡ your body went rigid, shock paralyzing you as the burden of confusion surged through you. but there was no time to think.

˚ ༘♡ the gun lowered slightly, shifting away from your head and down toward your chest. you barely had a second to comprehend what was occurring before a red-hot explosion of pain tore through your side, a bullet sinking just below your ribs, missing anything vital but still slicing through flesh and muscle with terrifying ease. the force of the impact sent you stumbling backward, your vision blurring as agony shot through every nerve in your body. you wanted to scream. you wanted to sob. but you didn’t. you couldn’t.

˚ ༘♡ you let yourself go limp. your body collapsed to the ground, your limbs falling still, your breath shallow. you forced your eyes shut, ignoring the unbearable pain radiating through your chest, ignoring the warm trickle of blood pooling beneath you.

˚ ༘♡ you willed yourself to become nothing. just another body. the potent scent of blood filled your nose as you felt hands, his hands, grab onto your arms.

˚ ༘♡ then, the sensation of being dragged. your body scraped against the cold, hard floor, pain flaring with every inch you moved, but you kept still, fighting against every instinct screaming at you to cry, to breathe harder, to react. you couldn’t. you had to stay dead.

˚ ༘♡ footsteps moved around you. guards passing by, other bodies being disposed of. slowly, the sounds of the execution grounds faded. the doors shut behind you. you were being taken somewhere. your heart pulsated in your ears, your blood running hot and thick down your side, staining your uniform. and through the dizzying haze of pain and terror, one thought remained, echoing over and over in your mind. only of cho sang-woo.

a/n: let me know if you have any thoughts or wish to see another part to this story!!

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arayapendragon · 2 days ago

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how i shift 🦉

it took me years of experimenting, trial and error to realize i don’t need methods, subliminals and guided meditations to shift. while i do agree that these tools can help you shift, because they do work for many people, my recent experiences have helped me understand that all you truly need to shift is yourself, nothing else. and nothing can ever change that.

you simply need to have an awareness, which you obviously do ahahaha. to shift, you just need to align that awareness to your desired reality. here’s how i do it:

i decide where i want to shift to, and think about that reality for a while

i acknowledge the fact that my desired reality exists somewhere in the multiverse, and that it is possible to become aware of it

i embrace a “fuck it, whatever happens, happens” mindset and let go. i detach from the outcome (to shift)

i become equally open to both waking up in my cr and waking up in my dr. i put neither event above the other, i am okay with either of them happening. if i shift, that’s great. if i don’t, that’s okay. i can always try again. i have all the time in the world to do so.

i decide that i will wake up in my dr and fall asleep

i wake up in my dr

i've noticed that each time i used this technique, i shifted successfully. its helped me with 2 intentional shifts, and several other shifts to one-off dr’s and random realities in the past, so i can assure you that this works! :) this is a simple technique for overthinkers or people who don’t like methods. it helps you embrace your natural talent, and proves how easy, effortless, and natural shifting can be.

here’s my 2 success stories from using this technique:

last october i was taking an afternoon nap and spontaneously decided to shift to my hogwarts golden trio era dr. i fell asleep while affirming "i am" and woke up on the train to hogwarts, exactly as i'd scripted! i was standing outside the compartment, and all my senses were present in that reality. i could hear the train horn, the sound of the people talking, i could see the interior of the train in front of me, and felt the chugging of the train beneath my feet.

this image is very similar to what i saw during that shift

2. i wanted to shift to my hogwarts legacy dr yesterday night. while falling asleep, i decided that i was going to wake up on the hogwarts express, but was also equally open to waking up in my cr. i didn't mind either outcome. i let go and fell asleep. as i woke up, something felt different. my eyes were closed but i was no longer lying down - i was sitting upright. i was no longer in a still and silent environment - i felt the chugging of the train engine beneath my feet. i quickly realized that i had in fact shifted to my hogwarts legacy dr and was on the train to hogwarts. i shifted back after a minute as i was quite dazed and disoriented, but i shifted nevertheless!

my advice

don’t try to follow someone else’s steps. do what resonates with YOU, its your journey.

embrace the process and each step of your shifting journey. demotivation is normal, you’re only human, it won’t stop you from shifting.

realize that you don’t need anything to shift but yourself. if guided meditations and subliminals work for you, then keep at it! but if you’re not making any progress with them, its time you rely on yourself rather than external aid to shift. the power lies within you, its always been there.

there's no need to put in effort while doing your method

simply thinking about your dr and deciding that you want to be there can help you shift

go with the flow, be spontaneous and have fun

stop doing things that aren’t working for you

detach from the outcome of shifting, it will happen eventually, don’t focus on it happening too much

happy shifting! 🩷

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setmeatopthepyre · 19 hours ago

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mystery monday (more phosphorescence fic) part 1 | part 2 <- follows directly after this

“No, come on, listen. You saw him on that call, you-- you must have noticed. He wasn't okay. How was he suddenly just... fine, just a few weeks later? It was like he'd-- he'd forgotten about me, Chim.”

“Look, Buck...” Chimney is looking at him kindly, and Buck hates it. Chim jokes and doesn't take him too seriously, that's what he does, that's what Buck's used to from his brother-in-law. But this isn't joking. This is just the... the not-taking-him-seriously part. “I know this has been a really tough situation for you...”

“It-It's not because he broke my heart, alright?” Buck says, suddenly angry, frustrated, getting to his feet. “It's not. There's something wrong with him. Can't-- Can't you just, talk to him? See for yourself?”

Chimney's gotten to his feet now, too. Maybe in an attempt to even the playing field, keep Buck from towering over him, not that standing up does him much good in that regard. Buck feels a little guilty, but he can't-- he can't sit down, can't sit still right now. He begins to make his way to the kitchen. Turns. “Wait, have you talked to him at all?”

Chim crosses his arms over his chest. “Honestly? Not really. We texted a few times, right after... you know.”

“He dumped me?” Buck says flatly, feet carrying him forward. He helps himself to a glass of water.

“Yeah.” Chim says hesitantly, trails after him into the kitchen. “That. So, not recently.”

Buck can feel the way he's being watched, resolutely doesn't turn to face him yet, takes a second to let this-- this irritation subside. If Chimney would just believe him, if he'd just understand--

“Okay,” Chimney says. “Yes, fine. If you think that will help, I'll... I'll give Tommy a call. Okay?”

“Yeah?” He turns now, takes a few steps closer, trying to gauge if Chimney actually believes him, or...

“Of course,” Chim replies. “That's what brothers are for, right?” He gives Buck a pat on his shoulder, as though trying to really lay the brother thing on thick. as if Buck won't notice he's still looking at him like he's someone to be concerned about as he does it.

So it doesn't surprise Buck when Maddie spontaneously drops by the firehouse the next day, because she just so happened to be in the area.

“Don't listen to her, she's here for me,” Buck says with a sigh, earning him a round of raised eyebrows from everyone but Chimney, who has his best (worst) poker face on. He had cornered Chimney earlier that morning to check if he'd talked to Tommy yet, but apparently Tommy hadn't answered because he was on shift, which is fine, though Buck knows Tommy is perfectly capable of picking up the phone when he's on shift as long as he isn't actively on a call. But. Whatever. Chimney will try again later, and until then... Buck is apparently being babysat.

“I'm here for all of you,” Maddie retorts before sing-songing, “I brought fancy coffees!”

“Maddie Han, you are an angel. You should ditch your lousy husband and run away with me,” Chimney croons, accepting the cup she offers him. Buck sticks to where he's leaning against the rig, waiting for his sister to finish her little charade so she can corner him and look at him with those-- those big brown worried eyes, and tell him she knows it's tough but isn't it time he thought about moving on? He'd shot his shot, he'd texted Tommy. If he hadn't responded, then, well...

He should take the hint.

Buck knows that. He just... can't. Not when something so very clearly isn't right.

Even if he's the only one who seems to notice.

tag list below the cut

@fiyaerrigan @bisexualbrainrots @leashybebes @louuieferrignojr @rubydaiquiri @teabroomsandbooks @crimsonwildcat-blog @sweaters-and-silly

let me know if you wanna be added or removed :)

#phosphorescence fic #my writing #wip #bucktommy #911 fic #bucktommy fic #tevan fic

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days ago

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I have something for Johnny if you want.

Johnny x shy!reader that has scarlet witch powers? Being Johnny girlfriend and Johnny family adores shy!reader

‘I’m starting to think my family likes you more then me at this point.’ Johnny says one day as he face planted your shared bed.

‘How so Johnny?’ You asked sweetly as you waved your hand as you brought a blanket over your boyfriend’s body with your magic, never failing to notice the soft smile that grew across his face as he lifts himself from the pillow to face you.

‘Are you kidding me? I mean look at you!’ He exclaims as he gestures to all of you shamelessly, making you feel a little exposed by his beautiful brown doe eyes that never seemed to fail in making you melt. ‘You’re sweet, compassionate, adorable to an unfair extent it makes me question how a being as beautiful as you could exist, and did I forget to mention that you’re an absolute badass with your powers?’ Johnny adds with a smirk as he saw how easily affected you were by his words as he counts off everything he found to adore you for on his fingers.

You groan playfully as you smacked Johnny on his bicep, a sheepish smile began to spread across your lips, all the while attempting to fight back the butterflies that were making their presence known within your stomach. It didn’t matter if you were dating Johnny for a few weeks or a few months, for he would always find ways to make you feel as though no time has passed between the two of you.

You at first didn’t want anything to do with the cocky, overly confident, playboy known as Johnny Storm and stayed away from him for a good while…until you couldn’t and it lead to what you considered the best decision you ever made in agreeing to let him take you on a date. However recently Johnny’s sister Sue, her husband Reed and Ben had been taking note of the subtle changes within johnny and knew someone was the reason behind it, which had lead to Johnny dragging you to the Baxter building more times then you can count to meet his family; whom of which had grown a fondness towards you and your positive influence on Johnny himself.

‘Johnny…’ you drew out his name as you buried your head into his shoulder, holding him close as you selfishly leeched off of his warmth, not that you’d ever tell him this but you were certain with how eager he was to keep you in his arms chuckling. He was very much aware and was more than willing to indulge you as he was just as much addicted to your soft, comforting hugs that he swore to high heavens he would die without.

‘I’m not lying! You should hear them half of the time! Where’s y/n? Johnny, go get your better looking partner. Johnny, where is my future sibling in law, you can’t hog them all the time.’ Johnny replied as he made dramatic voices for the likes of Sue, Ben and Reed based on the most recent interactions with them, most of which were asking for you or wondering how you were in general. Johnny didn’t mind, if anything he was downright ecstatic knowing that his family were just as obsessed with you as he was, he adored how you and his sister got along the most; knowing straight away from the moment he found you and his family sharing stories in the kitchen that this was something he wanted to see more often in the future.

Commitment wasn’t his thing, it never was until he met you, and as cliche as that sounded -and he knew just how cliche it came across- but it was true and Johnny wouldn’t want it any other way. He’d even claim you had put some type of spell on him, to which you only hide your smile from his groan inducing joke in regard to your magical abilities. He even remembered the day that he realised that you were the type of person he wanted to bring to his family, something he never gave a deeper insight into before you mind you as he never felt that deep of connection.

So everyday when he wakes up to see you cuddled into his side peacefully and safely, he considered himself the most luckiest man alive, and he didn’t bother to hide it either as he bragged to anyone with ears that someone as wonderful as you had chosen a hotheaded stud muffin -his words- like him.

You smiled as you cuddled further into him, knowing firsthand that he was right, and you were still getting use to the idea that his family adored you from the moment Johnny brought you to your first of many Sunday family diners. You remembered sweating bullets and tugging at your formal attire, but Sue and Reed were more than welcoming and reassuring, meanwhile Ben was full on teasing Johnny about how he was growing into a true man.

However before you could respond you were quick to remember that you were very much late for your day out with Sue. You gasp upon realisation as you push Johnny away from you, who fell back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief that you had just pushed him away. ‘I’m late!’ You cried as you moved away from your baffled boyfriend, who had propped himself to his arms.

‘Late for what?’ Johnny asks as he watched you sort yourself out for an outing he wasn’t aware was taking place.

You smiled softly, not wanting to give too much away of what you and Sue had planned prior. ‘Sue wanted help to find something for Reed for Valentine’s Day, and I agreed to help her.’ You half lied, well you weren’t lying about helping his sister find something for Reed, but what you had left out was the fact that you were also using this time to find something for Johnny yourself. To you he deserved something for being such an amazing partner, and you were thankful that Sue was more than happy to help you in doing so during your most recent late night conversations with the blonde woman.

‘I just want to find something for him that he’ll love,’ you told Sue as you allowed your magic to flourish between your fingertips, a nervous habit you had developed the moment you realised that you were capable of feet’s no other magic user has ever accomplished before, it was a comfort to you and brought your mind back to what was most important to you and what was most important to you was Johnny smiling.

She smiles, glad to know that her brother was blessed with someone like you, reached out to grab your hand in hers as she squeezed it in reassurance. ‘Whatever you get him, I’m certain Johnny will treasure forever.’

‘Really? You really think so?’ You asked her, still a little nervous despite having been with Johnny for a while, but that man had a way to make you feel as though you were falling for him all over again and you wanted to hate him for it, and yet you found yourself becoming shy and flustered whenever the man even threw his arm over your shoulder. If this was what love was like then you hoped to stay in this never ending state of adoration and mutual understanding for as long as you could.

‘I know so.’ Sue replied, her eyes had a knowing look to them. ‘Johnny would take anything you give him becuase you were the one that give it to him, that thought that he would like it and all he’ll care about is that you had him on the mind and to show that you care about him.’ She finished, squeezing your hand again when she saw sparks of your magic come to life at your fingertips, rubbing her thumb across the back of your hand. You smiled at her. ‘Then I can’t wait for tomorrow.’ You tell her, beaming.

Johnny smiled from his place on the bed, again happy to see you and his sister bond and become close to one another, it was a simple thing that he didn’t know he needed but then again that was the magical thing about you. You made him want simple and small things that he would’ve taken for granted, or not even considered in the first place, and for that he couldn’t help but find himself wanting moments like this in your future together.

However before Johnny could open his mouth to push you for more details on your outing with his sister, the door opened to reveal Sue stood on the other side, obviously having been waiting for you but not showing an ounce of annoyance in the slightest.

‘I’m here to steal your partner.’ Sue says to her brother as she grasps your arm, pulling you to her side.

‘Not the first time my beloved is being stolen from me by you, Reed or Ben.’ Johnny scoffs playfully as he watched you and Sue link arms, already acting like you were in laws for a long time with how relaxed and comfortable you were with one another.

‘Oh you can have them back as soon as we’re finished shopping.’ Sue retorted.

‘So like ten hours from now?’ Johnny sarcastically replies with and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sibling squabble, making him look at you with a warm smile. ‘Don’t I get a goodbye kiss at least from my most beloved?’ Before you could give him his kiss, Sue drags you out of the room with her and out the door, though not before shouting over her shoulder followed by your laughter. ‘You’ve had enough time today to trade kisses, now you have to wait.’

Johnny only groans dramatically as he flops back onto his bed, impatiently waiting for you to come back not even seconds after you left his room, he really was in love like the sappy bastard Ben teased him in being.

#johnny storm x y/n #johnny storm x you #johnny storm fanfiction #johnny storm fluff #johnny storm x reader #fantastic four imagines #fantastic four imagine #fantastic four x reader #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

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opal-owl-flight · 15 hours ago

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John. John Splatoon. The man, the goofball the sweetest man youll see. Chatty, bubbly, and gives really good team morale.

But things arent all sweet.

I wonder if he shuts himself up when he feels hes being *too* jolly.

His family is kind. Its not their fault. Yknow how people are fucking mean to those who are very excited abt things.

I think he had an experience like that. Tanara was thankfully there when things started getting really bad.

John was made fun of when he first started turfing. He was just sooo excited abt it all. So enthusiastic!! He studied abt the greats, the top players, all that. And the bitchass mean kids thought itd be funny to crush his dreams.

They made fun of him when he rambles abt strategy. They mocked him whenever he tries to be a hero and gets fucking splatted for it (OH GEE, IF HIS TEAMMATES WERE ACTUALLY *HELPING* HIM HE WOULDNT HAVE GOTTEN GOT).

One time I think some bastard jammed his weapon so it was unusuable for a while, and he was unable to turf.

"Good riddance," the team had said. "That beak is finally quiet for once."

Tanara saw this happening and decided to stand up for him.

They saw this boy getting picked on, and didnt hesitate in open firing at the bastards. Didnt care if theyll get banned for a week for firing a weapon off the field.

"|Hey, are you the guy who cornered me in the last match? Color me impressed.|"

Tanara doesnt stand for bullies. Ever. They hate seeing these kinds of people in the leagues. They hate the fact that these nutjobs are so good at the game!!! they want to make the leagues a fun place for everyone. None of this fuckinh bullshit. From a young age theyve already defended others. Wanted to make a better world where everyone can just be who they wanted to be, grow into their best selves.

The orange squid was a big help. With them actually recognizing his talent and running by his side,,,

They made him believe in himself. Fuck what everyone else says.

"|We won because of your strategy,|" they sign. "|If it werent for you, we'd have lost the tournament.|"

And hes given a smile of encouragement. Oh, sweet understanding, sweet recognition.

For a tender year they and John built a strong team and friendship. John became this cheery man bc of them.

They helped him stand up for himself. Helped him in the art of not giving a fuck. Or raining retribution where it is applicable (the duo have sent bullies crying after giving fjem say -- a 20 second rainmaker match)

Whenever someone tries to make fun of him in the later years, or now -- even if Tanara is out of the picture bc theyre getting blended -- he will literally ignore the naysayers. Bc he knows. He knows Tanara believes in him. He knows his team believes in him. He knows many others do, as well.

He knows his own capabilities. He knows what his limits. And hes. God, theres a reason hes second in command. Hes smart about the sport. Hes scary on the field. Dont let the goofy attitude fool you. Hes having fun but you on enemy team wont!

Some people are recently saying that Tanara left their old team bc John was lagging too far behind them, that Ink Typh∞n is the natural next step for them.

Dead wrong dipshits. If anything, those two are eye to eye.

If Tanara wasnt forced to retire, theyf still be fighting by his side.

-----------

Ofc its not all perfect. He still shuts down sometimes. Shuts himself up if he gets scared of offending someone/in general.

If he doesnt get reassurance or proves to himself/his naysayers of his own capabilities, he starts going quiet, smiling less.

Those wounds still hurt, Im afraid....

-----------

And what about after Octo Expansion.

What was going through his mind?

Like....this is your best friend. The one who helped you become the man you are. They were your role model. Theyre so strong, so assured. Confident. Ruthless on the turf. So skilled that nothing can faze them. Believed in you like no one else did.

And youre watching them seem to get worse day by day.

Theyre closing up. Theyre not telling you anything. You reach out but they dismiss you. And their colors only get more desaturated with time. They still believe in you, but its clear that theres something bothering them.

You try to share your joy with them, talking about the things you liked. Like old times. It turns out however, that the character you idolized in the media you consume, is them.

And it explains everything.

An entire secret double life and they didnt tell you.

You were their best friend. They were by your side when you struggled to make it in this city. They gave you assurance when your confidence started to fail.

They were your hero.

Where were you then, when they needed one themself?

They slump into John's arms,,

Theyre only older than him by a year. but they feel so,,

They feel so frail. A shadow of how they used to be. A body broken by war, a mind and heart ravaged by worry and vigilance and the weight of the world on their shoulders.

They tell him that they dont want him to take this load. They tell him he doesnt deserve it.

He says he has no plans of getting into this, not directly. He just wants them to come back to him after duty, or allow him to help in any way he can.

He'll just wait by the door, like he always has.

And hes holding them. He wants to keep them there til everything becomes okay again.

#splatoon #splatoon fanart #agent 3 #captain 3 #john splatoon #kaori splatoon #splatoon promo kids #BC THAT IS THEM TECHNICALLY #opal owl’s nest

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 day ago

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Now don't throw tomatoes at me but I'm actually really excited to finally see malleus again— I've always loved malleus since we met him in the story, but I'm also sooo curious about what's gonna happen next,, I'm wondering the obvious thing, about whether or not we might get a parralel scenario like what happened with the KoD and silver will have to "slay" malleus or at least be the one to land a killing blow, but I also saw a really interesting post focusing on how magic is a manifestation of dreams and deep desires and imagination,,,, in that case, I may (VERY delusionally) hope that Yuu finally gets to be a major part of the story for once??? Even reading the novels, there HAS to be something bigger for yuu— while the idea of crowley simply being an incompetent airhead is fun and more comfortable, haven't you thought that meybe he pulled them into this world deliberately??

All to say, what if at some point, Yuu somehow manifests magic in a very dire moment ?? You know lol?? Agh idk. I just want yuu to finally make impactful choices but that IS too much to ask, as far as we can see for now,,, (but hey, that part leading up to ace getting is UM, and the convo between him and yuu,,, it *does* give one a sliver of hope, doesn't it? :') )

Don't worry, no tomato throwing here! 😅 I may not care for certain characters, but I’m not going to shame anyone that does. You’re free to think however you want about Malleus!

dbjsvsJcwhj My personal feelings about him aside, I am actually glad he’s finally relevant to the main story again. He’s missed out on so much of his own book OTL In the time he’s been gone, the fandom has been left to speculate about both his and Lilia’s potential death flags. I really doubt Twst will have the balls to kill off one of them, but it would be cool to at least see Silver delivering the final blow to knock some sense into (not necessarily kill) OB Malleus.

Yes, it’s true that Silver states in the recent update that magic was originally considered “a miracle borne of strong desires from the heart.” But 💦 I don’t think that means Yuu would randomly manifest magic in the final fight?? It feels more like a “let’s save the day with the power of friendship” to me, but I could of course be wrong.

I understand being frustrated that Yuu’s participation in the main story seems to fluctuate a lot, with most of their activity being books 3, 4, and segments of 1, 6, and 7. That’s not much, especially considering how long books 6 and 7 are. Sometimes (even in events) it feels like Yuu is barely there, as most dialogue options don’t involve different reactions from the characters. Even Yuu's quest to find a way home is barely addressed or taken seriously until early in book 7. Yuu hasn't gotten "real" development unless you count them realizing their Disney dreams are prophetic in book 5, taking the initiative to save Grim in book 6, and that dialogue option about them being worried they're not contributing + the related convo with Ace in book 7. All very short moments in the grand scheme of things. And honestly, I think that makes sense for the kind of character Yuu is. A blank slate, a self-insert, an outsider that's easy to exposit information to, someone with which to view the story, characters, and world through. Yuu is primarily there to be the POV character, the lenses, the camera that we see Twst through. They're not really meant to be a traditional "main character". It's possible that Twst gives them a slightly bigger role at the very end (especially with what went down in the dream in book 7), but I doubt it will be a huge triumphant moment where they and they alone save the day or deal the final blow in a crazy act of self-sacrifice. Twst has always been a story that puts the NRC boys first, while Yuu is the observer.

I've noticed that the complaint of Yuu not doing a lot in the story comes mainly from English speaking fans?? And I guess that makes sense, given how western culture tends to emphasize independence and standing out. They want Yuu to reflect that. They want to be the ones to make a difference. I don't even remember ever seeing these same comments from the Japanese speaking fans; it's definitely a less common sentiment for them. The Japanese fans seem pretty content with Yuu being an observer and taking on more of a minor or supporting role. Again, this fits in with what I understand of many eastern cultures. They're demurer, not wanting to stand out too much from the crowd and instead prioritizing group harmony. Very interesting cultural difference to note!

It's a common theory (with many variants) that Crowley intentionally summoned Yuu to Twisted Wonderland for his own nefarious motives. People found him pretty sus right away due to how he seems to not put in any real time or effort into investigating a way to send Yuu home. Plus, there's that ominous opening monologue of his to consider. However, I don't think he summoned Yuu because of their (potential) great magical capabilities. The Mirror of Darkness tells us that it doesn't sense a shred of magic in Yuu, and Leona smells zero magic on them (though that could be because it hasn't technically manifested yet, as some fans claim).

The idea is that Yuu is supposed to be plain. They are supposed to be magicless. Why? To humble the NRC students and to show them that asserting yourself violently or with great magical power ISN'T the way to go. To show them value in strategizing (which Yuu does in the prologue by helping Grim aim at the ghosts), of camaraderie. What does it say about the story's themes if Yuu, the person who is supposed to be showing them the worth of mundane things, is suddenly... "secretly ultra-strong, actually/“just like you guys” (even if it's only a temporary hope-fueled magic)? It might contradict what has already been set up. It also breaks the self-insert appeal of Yuu, since developing magic would also mean Yuu would later have to further develop things like proficiency in magic, best/worst subjects, and an unique magic/signature spell... meaning Yuu HAS to become better "defined", thus losing their blank slate nature. This would surely upset some fans who deeply project onto Yuu, have a Yuusona, etc.

Yuu can still make an impact on the characters and the world--and they have, judging by how much closer the boys are with each other--without having to be The Most Special One or like everyone else. I think it undermines what Yuu has already managed to achieve to say that they haven't made an impactful choice at ANY point in the main story when I believe they definitely have. Yuu made the choice to sign the contract with Azul. Yuu made the choice to approach Malleus. Yuu made the choice to go against Crowley's orders and go retrieve Grim from S.T.Y.X. Yuu made the choice to get Leona’s help with the contracts. Yuu made the choice to stand with Adeuce against Riddle in book 1. Yuu made the choice to let the VDC/SDC tribe train at Ramshackle. Yuu has done a lot, and all without needing to seize the spotlight or to do anything big and flashy. I don't think Yuu needs to be big and flashy. There is pride to be had in simplicity and being humble too. There is pride in representing the 90% of humans in Twisted Wonderland that are ordinary and without magic.

(An aside: so if Yuu wasn’t able to manifest magic in many other extreme instances, does that mean their desire to save Grim in book 6 wasn’t “enough”? That their desire to save Ramshackle, their one and only home in this world, wasn’t “enough”? It implies that Yuu didn’t wish hard enough for these other things they clearly care about and want.)

I think a good way to give Yuu a decent role while staying true to their design as a blank slate would be for Twst to really lean into the whole "beast tamer" aspect that was introduced all the way back in the prologue. This would work well with their deep connection to Grim as well. Assuming that Grim ends up being the final OB... We could easily have the NRC students and staff on the ropes, Malleus at his wit's end after exhausting himself with his own OB, a rampaging Grim about to end it all. And then... one lone figure shakily rises from the rubble and confronts Grim. One human. Magicless, defenseless. A human lost in an unfamiliar world, a human who believes they're useless and don't contribute much. A human who is always in need of being protected by others. But not anymore. This time, it's Yuu's turn to protect what they love--their friends, this world they've come to love, Grim. Ace and Deuce yelling at Yuu to not be stupid, to get back--but Yuu just advances, calling out to Grim and begging him to stop. And maybe it's Yuu's wish that rallies everyone and/or gets OB Grim to hesitate. That's when they can strike. Is that corny? Yeah. Does it sound like the ending to a Disney film? Sure. But it still grants Yuu, a magicless human that is supposed to be there to teach everyone about friendship, cooperation, and humility, their big moment to shine. The best of both worlds, I'd say.

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sugarlywhispers · 15 hours ago

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b.katsuki x reader (fem) | villain!reader, prohero!dynamight.

a.n; a bit of context for this little idea i had yesterday (LINK HERE). 😉🌟should i make it a serie?? 👀

The war lasted years. Years that brought not only destruction but losses that hurt deep in the soul. Years in which the whole world changed, including people. Deaths, injuries, betrayals. Wins and loses.

It took years to bring Shigaraki and his whole team down, but once it was done, Bakugou remembers clearly turning toward his best friend, Izuku, and hugging him so tight.

None of them will admit it, or at least Katsuki won't, but they both cried in that embrace.

Bakugou also remembers you.

You, who once used to fight alongside him and the rest of his hero friends. You, who knew them all from your first year at UA, because you had also been a classmate. You, who had shared laughs, cries, and many moments with them. You, who chose to betray them all and turn to Shigaraki's side.

He still remembers when it happened.

You had been right by his side; actually, back-to-back covering for him in the middle of a fight. Suddenly, the sun was clouded, leaving a gloomy and terrifying tension in the air.

"Enough!" A deep male voice roared, making everyone silent, heroes and villains alike. Bakugou felt your body tensing, and he immediately knew something was wrong.

"Y/N, stop this nonsense right now."

Bakugou turned and saw you looking straight ahead towards the voice. Your chest raised and lowered rapidly thanks to your breathing, he didn't know if it was because of the fight you both had recently been in or because you were afraid.

"Come. Now."

Bakugou didn't understand, or maybe he did but he didn't want to. But he definitely felt a sort of heaviness in his chest when he heard you murmur to him "I'm sorry" and walked towards the man.

He tried to stop you by grabbing your wrist, but you never turned to look at him. You simply shook his hand away and walked towards the villain.

"Don't make it any more dramatic, you stupid hero. She has always been one of us." The man smiled devilishly, an arm surrounding your shoulders once you stood by his side.

Bakugou felt like vomiting at that image.

Your betrayal felt heavy on everyone. But especially on Katsuki.

Why? Why did you do it? There had to be a reason behind your actions. You didn't even go willingly, he knew that. He saw it. He knew it had to be under some threat or something.

He just couldn't accept the fact that the only person he had felt any sort of feeling besides annoyance towards, could not be a villain. You were not a villain.

However, that's the title the government sentenced you under after the war. And how everyone saw you. A villain, someone who betrayed them.

You are a villain, who has been sentenced to a whole life in prison after the war was over, alongside many other villains. Many other people who betrayed the hero side too.

Katsuki had been at your trial when the sentence was declared. He and others too. Izuku, Mina, Sero, Ochako, Shoto and Denki. Many were missing, many were dead.

You were standing, the first one in a line of other betrayers, clearly on purpose, just to put more shame on your person for your decisions. And behind you were people like Hawks, Inasa, Koda and Jiro, among others. A system of anti-Quirk chains connecting all of you by the ankles and wrists.

"This is... unfair," Round cheeks sighed, eyes glossy, watching the people they knew. Or used to know.

Several mmhs agreed with her. Including Katsuki.

Call him biased, he'll fucking blast you to pieces, but he was sure you didn't have a choice. Something happened that made you turn, and he was going to fucking find out what happened.

Even if after the judge read your crimes and asked you how pleaded yourself and you simply said, "guilty", with a raspy, clearly hurting voice, yet your stance was neutral, cold even.

Bakugou Katsuki didn't believe it for one second.

He kicked away an empty cardboard box that was on the ground, clearly showing his anger, as everyone walked out of the courtroom.

"This is bullshit," Sero groaned, pissed off too.

"There's something we could do," Mina declared firmly, making everyone turn around to her as she was the last one leaving the room. "Follow me."

They were all standing outside now, in an adjacent alley from the Court of Law where the sentence had been made.

"Spill it." They were all alone now, no media, no civilians.

"Yeah, what did you mean, Mina?" Ochako took a step closer to her friend, clearly anxious.

"I heard this from lawyers yesterday at the girls' restroom in the CoL. They didn't know I was there too, so they were talking freely. One of them said that she was surprised no one mentioned one of the protections of one specific law regarding certain cases. Cases where heroes are undercover, where they have to join villains."

Katsuki took a step closer, full attention to what Mina was saying. All of them were paying attention.

"They said that probably that law wasn't brought into the defense because they have no defense. They are just taking the blame for the war because that's what the government wants. Someone to point at, someone to blame."

"Fucking pieces of shit."

"Oh my God, that's horrible!" Ochako cried, hugging herself.

"I understand it now. It's perfect for them. They once fought alongside us, but then they turned, probably under government directions to play undercover. And now they are taking the blame because there isn't enough evidence that can help them, that says the contrary. Or they don’t want to show it." Izuku analyzed, crossing his arms over his chest, eyebrows frowning in thought, clearly activating his "nerd mode".

"Well, that would apply to some of them," Denki said, the anger clear in every feature of his.

"What does that mean?" Sero asked, but he didn’t seem confused. More like, indignation making its way into him.

"Please. We all clearly know who I'm talking about."

All eyes traveled to Katsuki.

"Don't you dare fucking say it."

"Come on, Bakugou! She was right beside you when it happened! Her freaking father called out to her and she went! She fucking chose to turn to their side!"

Before Katsuki even decided to move towards Denki, Izuku and Sero were already holding him back, each one grabbing him by his arms and pushing him away.

“Who do you fucking think you are, huh?! She took a fucking bullet for you, you asshole! You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her, that same person you’re fucking accusing-...”

“She still betrayed us! She betrayed YOU.”

A growl left Katsuki’s mouth that could have frightened even All Might in his prime era, followed by a strong push that made Izuku and Sero activate their Quirks to hold their friend back. Uselessly.

But before he could reach where Denki was waiting for him, already electricity dancing around him, Mina stood right in between them, making Bakugou abruptly stop in his run in front of her.

“Cut it out! Both of you!” She yelled, “This is not the moment for this!” She told them off, scowling at each of them. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Denki, but if this is about Jiro,” Mina’s voice trembled, clearly upset about recognizing another of her dear friends who betrayed them. Denki’s hands closed in fists tightly, just like his eyes, as if the name physically injured him, “it’s the same as Y/N…”

“No, it’s not! She didn’t have another choice!”

“And what the fuck makes you think Y/N did?!” Katsuki yelled back.

“She walked away willingly!”

“Jiro did too!”

“I said, enough! Stop yelling!” Mina interfered again, “We are not going to do what everyone else is doing. We are not blaming our friends if we don’t know exactly what happened.”

“The only way to know is if we try to contact them, and all sorts of communications are restricted,” Ochako offered sadly.

Mina nodded, “If you all are done yelling, I was about to tell you guys how we can get them out of there.”

Bakugou buffed one last time, feeling Izuku’s hand on his bicep, pulling him away softly. The message was clear, “stand down, Kacchan, and calm down”. He took a deep breath and let Izuku drag him a few steps back.

Everyone’s attention was back on Mina, as she explained in good detail what they were going to do.

a.n; just so everyone is aware, i do NOT make taglists. sorry. don't hate me, please🥺

#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugou x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha angst #mha angst #prohero!bakugou katsuki x villain!reader

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starchassing · 21 hours ago

Note

Heyyy cata!!!

I'm obsessed with all your socmed aus so when i saw you had made a new blog i rushed here to follow you haha

Anyway I'm looking for a jegulus fic i read back in june/ july so it's not a recent fic. It had three chapters and it was about regulus when he found out he was trans. I think the skittles knew, but james , Sirius and the marauders didn't and the first two chapters is regulus telling james and the third telling Sirius. When james finds out he's like "okay what's your name" and regs like it's regulus and he's so touched when james calls him his true name for the first time but, since he's regulus, he just assumes that they're gonna break up bc James' "straight". Anyway James comforts him and tells him that they're not breaking up. :)

Then he's anxious about telling sirius so james goes with him for support in chapter 3.

And that's it. I don't remember anything else.

I have been meaning to reread it but i forgot to bookmark it so i can't find it now😭. Also i had told someone it'd recommend it to them and now I can't tell them the name. So I'd be really glad if you can help me!! Also if you're busy or you cannot find it or you're just not up for it it's okay!!

Thank you for your time!! Sending love

hello pookie bear so nice to see you here too!

i am like 99% sure this is call me by my name by the amazing and showstopping bizarrestars

im not a bit ashamed to say that i clocked in by the first line. great fic, amazing, made me wanna bang my head several times

xoxo

#jegulus #jegulus fic #sunseeker #starchaser #the marauders era

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nokkiart · 3 days ago

Text

Recently I saw the cast member costumes for the new HTTYD land at Epic Universe, and I was rather disappointed to say the least.

So as someone who has experience in costume fabrication for theme parks, as well as years of experience physically working inside theme parks (and also as someone who ran around in Cali and FL in an Astrid costume for years), I decided to spend the morning doodling my own versions of what I think the staff costumes should look like to fit in better with the Berk theming.

My main focus of these designs was staff comfort, considering the Florida heat and the amount of physical labor that cast members have to do daily. Simple lightweight materials could help cool staff as well as hidden pockets under the fur fabric for ice packs. All these costumes have the same base shirt and pants to help simplify production. The shoe covers could easily be worn over any tennis shoe, so there’s no need to worry about custom footwear either.

There's much more that I can think of for the Berk costumes, including ponchos and jackets, but I've already spent more time on these than I should have.

And the best part is that these costumes don’t include a baseball cap with horns on it… -_-

#no hate towards anyone who worked on the costumes btw #I know what its like to work with a certain difficult company so I understand why the costumes ended up the way that they did #digital #artists of tumblr #illustration #art #character design #sketch #costume design #httyd #how to train your dragon #it angers me so much when companies have the opportunity to do something amazing but instead they cut corners & go for the cheapest option

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nightlyrequiem · 3 days ago

Text

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 22- Briefing

Masterlist AO3 Next Previous

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: I haven't been posting a lot recently but I swear I have more projects!!! A few oneshots, Canary Cage, DIGEST. There will be more.

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH19.), Dual POV

Valeria leans over the splintering, lopsided wooden table in the basement. The singular lightbulb off to the side casting a dim, dull light. Making the shadows on everyone's faces seem denser and malicious.

"I have twelve men coming from Las Almas." She speaks. "I'm assuming Doug will have more but twelve will be sufficient enough for us." She turns to Rick and gestures for him to step forward. He steps in between Valeria and Alain, planting down a piece of looseleaf. There's a crude sketch of what the compound looks like from above. A rough estimate.

There's a rectangular line around the other structures. Labeled as 'the fence.' Dots indicating guards where the front entrance is labeled. Within the perimeter is a house and a barn. Though it's clearly not being used as a barn. As said by Rick. No animals except for dogs, heard by the barking but he's not sure if they're big or not. He assumes so, saying they 'barked big.'

Valeria points to each side of the fence except for the entrance.

"I'll have two men on each side, waiting for the signal to cut their way in." She tells them. "There's two cliffs either side of the compound, yes?" She looks at Rick for confirmation. He nods. "I'll have someone on the higher cliff to be our eyes and sniper. He'll take out the two guards at the front." There's many uncontrolled variables and it makes Valeria feel a little discomforted, but she's not going to back down or risk waiting.

Valeria does her best to avoid looking at you. Instead choosing to pretend you aren't there anyway. You're not even a part of her plans. You have no combat training, she's not even sure if you've even ever held a firearm let alone shot one. Something knocks a box over, startling everyone. A large rat runs out from the dark. It's long pink hairless tail trailing out from behind it. Even the least squeamish among the group take a step away from it with disgust, giving it wide berth. It's either sick or stupid, as it runs towards Valeria. Without thinking she lifts her foot and crushes it. Feeling it pop beneath her feet.

Out of the corner of her eye she notices the somber look of disapproval on your face.

"Hey... what the hell man." Mark says weakly. He's not so appalled by her killing of a rat but by the mess it left behind. Gray and pink insides leaking outside. Valeria kicks the rest of the rat away and scrapes away the residue left behind on her shoe.

"This is kill on sight." She continues pointedly. "Don't just kill who you see, seek out people to kill. I don't want any of them remaining but Doug. I'll deal with him myself."

"When are the others getting here?" Alain pipes up, scratching his stubbly chin.

"They'll be here in a couple of days." Valeria tells him. "I'll relay the plan to them again when they arrive. You're going to be our sniper." She decides.

Alain has always had amazing aim. He and Valeria used to serve together in the Special Forces. He was a loyalist who saw Valeria's potential before any others and followed her commands without protest, he was one of the few who helped her in double crossing La Araña. Second to Diego, and formally you, he's one of the few people she could almost consider to be a friend. She looks at Rick.

"I want you to be with me for the main raiding party." She says to him. He's not as stealthy or as smooth with combat, but he's decently sized and at the very least will make for a very decent meat shield. "Our goal is to capture Doug, destroy the compound, and go home."

Valeria sighs tiredly. Feeling the weariness in her very bones.

"We'll go over everything again when the others arrive." She says. turning and walking upstairs. Trailing traces of rat around with her.

"So, I'll get a little something extra for housing all these extra people, right?" Mark asks from behind her, following her up the stairs.

"No." Valeria says flatly. annoyed by him. She finds herself excited by the prospect of leaving this place. She's missing the familiar culture of Las Almas.

Mark tries to argue but very quickly gives up. The smart choice, since arguing won't change her mind, only piss her off. Valeria walks into the kitchen, in need of a drink. She digs through the cupboards, sniffing the dubiously smelling glasses. It takes her awhile to find a clean one but she finally does and finally gets her water.

"Did that make you feel tough?" A voice speaks up from behind her. Valeria turns and looks, brows furrowed with confusion.

"Pardon?"

"Did stomping that rat make you feel tough?" You clarify. "I know you like throwing your weight around. Especially towards things smaller than yourself."

Valeria sets down her glass. Feeling agitated by you.

She leans back against the counter and grips it tightly.

"It's a pest. Spreads disease." Valeria says warningly. Though that's not the reason she killed it. She's not entirely sure why. It was an impulse she had and one she listened to.

"I can think of another thing that spreads disease." You mutter.

"I'm not diseased." She snaps. Are you accusing her of having an STD? Is that what you think of her? The thought upsets her.

"Not what I meant." You shake your head. Shoulders dropping as you lose that combative attitude. "What am I supposed to do? In the plan, you never mentioned me."

The first droplets of rain begin to hit the window. Gentle for only a few seconds before turning into a violent flurry.

"You're going to stay here. I don't need you." Valeria says.

"You don't need me." You repeat. Sounding surprised and offended. "You dragged me out here just to cast me aside?"

Valeria scoffs. "You're the one who fought me on coming out here."

You look like you're going to say something but think better of it.

Valeria has a point. She didn't originally plan on bringing you, but you wanted to come, and she wanted you with her. And it was good, for a bit. But even before you found out about the lie, you were never included in her plans. Simply because you'd be a liability, and because she wanted to keep you safe.

"I'm not useless." You say quietly.

"I didn't say you are." She replies. Rubbing a hand over her face. That nicotine craving is starting to flare up. She needs a smoke. Needs to get away from you.

"You've said it before." You press, stepping forward. "And I know you still think I'm not as important or impressive because I don't fight, or because I've never killed anyone. But I'm not some meek little wallflower, I'm not a child. I can take care of myself, and I can follow orders." You tell her sternly.

Your words make her uncomfortable. She wants to deny that she thought that way about you... but it's partially true. You mean something to her, but a part of her can't help but look down on you. To her, you're not someone capable of defending herself.

"You want to help?" Valeria relents. "Fine. I'll get Alain to teach you as much as he can about guns and I'll set you up on the other cliff. You'll be additional support." Valeria doesn't like giving into people who argue with her. And she especially doesn't want to jeopardize you or the mission.

But little harm could come to you or the mission if you're posted up out of the way. You seem appeased at the moment. Content now that you're included.

"Thank you." You say civilly. Valeria relaxes. Perhaps you're starting to forgive her.

"Hey." She calls out as you turn to leave. You stop and look at her. "When we get back to Las Almas I'll take you out for dinner. As an apology." The words feel awkward and out of place in her mouth. She wishes she just kept quiet. You don't respond right away.

"I'm still upset with you." You say. Then walk off without another word. Leaving Valeria in the company of the rain and your rejection.

#modern warefare ii #valeria garza cod #cod mwii #cod x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza x you #cod mw2 #valeria garza #cod #valeria garza x reader

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tosomeonessomeone · 2 days ago

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The mark of two worlds.

words・ 6.9k /pairings・ Jisung x reader / genres・fluff, a little angst / warnings・ love making

On your 21st birthday, the world as you knew it changed forever. It started with a strange tingling sensation on your wrist, where a small, intricate mark had appeared overnight. At first, you thought it was just a weird birthmark or a temporary tattoo you’d forgotten about. But then, in the blink of an eye, you were no longer in your cozy apartment in Seoul. Instead, you found yourself standing in the middle of a quaint, sunlit living room in a house you’d never seen before.

Panic surged through you. *Where am I? How did I get here?* You stumbled backward, your heart racing, as you took in your surroundings. The house was warm and inviting, filled with soft furniture, bookshelves lined with your favorite novels, and a kitchen that smelled faintly of vanilla. It felt... familiar, as if it had been waiting for you.

Over the next few weeks, you discovered that the mark on your wrist was no ordinary mark. It was a *soulmate mark*, a gateway to an alternate universe. Every time you touched it and focused, you could teleport between your world and this peaceful, idyllic house in a charming little city. It became your sanctuary, a place where you could escape the chaos of your life.

In your world, you were a rising star—a recently graduated literature student turned international sensation after your debut novel took the world by storm. Your days were filled with interviews, book signings, and endless deadlines. But here, in this other universe, you were just... *you*. No fame, no expectations, just quiet moments to breathe and be yourself.

For three years, you visited the house regularly, growing more and more attached to it. You filled the shelves with your favorite books, cooked meals in the cozy kitchen, and even planted flowers in the small garden outside. It felt like a second home, a place where you could recharge before returning to your hectic life.

But one day, everything changed.

You teleported to the house as usual, expecting the familiar silence and solitude. Instead, you were met with the sound of someone crashing into a table, followed by a startled yelp. Your eyes widened as you saw a boy—no, a man—in his early twenties, standing in the middle of the living room, looking just as shocked as you were.

He had messy brown hair, wide, panicked eyes, and a mark on his wrist that glowed faintly, just like yours. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, frozen in place.

“W-who are you?!” he stammered, his voice trembling. “How did I get here?!”

You recognized him instantly. It was *Han Jisung*, the talented rapper, singer, and lyricist from Stray Kids. But in this moment, he wasn’t the confident idol you’d seen on stage. He was just a boy, confused and scared, just like you had been three years ago.

“I... I think I’m your soulmate,” you said softly, holding up your wrist to show him the mark.

His eyes darted to your wrist, then to his own, and the realization slowly dawned on him. “Soulmate marks... alternate universes... this is insane,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But... it kind of makes sense?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in the room easing just a little. “Yeah, it’s a lot to take in. But... welcome to your second home, Jisung.”

He blinked at you, his panic slowly giving way to curiosity. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do. You’re kind of a big deal in my world,” you said with a smile. “But here... you’re just Jisung. And I’m just me.”

For the first time, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Just Jisung, huh? I think I like the sound of that.”

One of the first things you did was exchange numbers. It was a practical decision—after all, you both had lives to return to in your normal universes—but it quickly became something more. Texts turned into late-night phone calls, and soon, you were sharing snippets of your days with each other. Jisung would send you voice notes of new lyrics he was working on, and you’d send him photos of your writing desk or the view from your apartment window. It was a strange but beautiful way to build a connection, bridging the gap between your two worlds.

Your weekly meetings in the alternate universe became a ritual. Every Saturday afternoon, without fail, you’d both teleport to the house and spend hours together. Sometimes you’d cook meals in the cozy kitchen, laughing as Jisung attempted (and failed) to chop vegetables without nearly cutting his fingers off. Other times, you’d curl up on the couch with a book or a movie, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

One of the best parts of this alternate universe was the freedom it offered. You could go out for walks in the city without worrying about paparazzi or fans recognizing you. The streets were quiet and peaceful, lined with quaint shops and cafes. It felt like a dream, a world where you could just exist as two ordinary people, hand in hand, without a care in the world.

But back in your normal universe, things were a little more complicated. Jisung couldn’t keep the secret of your relationship from his Stray Kids members for long. One evening, during a late-night practice session, he accidentally let it slip.

“So, uh, I’ve been spending a lot of time with someone,” he said casually, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

The room went silent. All eyes turned to him.

“Wait, what?” Changbin was the first to break the silence. “You’ve been *what*?”

“Who is it?” Hyunjin demanded, his eyes narrowing. “Is it someone we know?”

Jisung hesitated, but the members weren’t about to let him off the hook. Under their relentless questioning, he finally caved and told them everything—about the soulmate mark, the alternate universe, and you.

The reaction was... loud, to say the least.

“YOU HAVE A SOULMATE?!” Felix shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

“And she’s *the* Y/N? The writer?!” Jeongin added, looking utterly starstruck.

“This is so unfair!” Seungmin complained, crossing his arms. “Why does Jisung get to have a soulmate who’s, like, the coolest person ever?”

Chan, ever the leader, tried to calm everyone down, but even he couldn’t hide his curiosity. “So, when do we get to meet her?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “No way. Absolutely not. She’s *my* soulmate, and I’m not sharing her with you guys. You’ll just annoy her.”

But the members weren’t about to take no for an answer. Over the next few days, they bombarded Jisung with demands to meet you in your normal universe. They even started brainstorming ways to “accidentally” run into you, much to Jisung’s dismay.

“They’re relentless,” he complained to you during one of your weekly meetings. “I swear, if they ever meet you, they’re going to embarrass me so much.”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I think it’s sweet. They just want to make sure I’m good enough for you.”

Jisung rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “You’re more than good enough. They’re just jealous.”

Despite his protests, you could tell that Jisung was secretly pleased by how much his members cared. And while you weren’t quite ready to meet them yet, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited at the thought of being welcomed into his world—even if it meant dealing with seven overprotective Stray Kids members.

After weeks of relentless pestering, Jisung finally gave in. The Stray Kids members had made it clear that they weren’t going to drop the subject until they met you, and Jisung knew better than to fight a losing battle. So, one evening, he texted you with a mix of excitement and dread.

**Jisung:** So... the guys won’t stop bugging me about meeting you. I tried to hold them off, but they’re like a pack of wolves. What do you think? Are you up for it?

You stared at your phone, a nervous flutter in your chest. Meeting Jisung’s members was a big step, and while you were curious about the people who meant so much to him, the thought of facing eight incredibly talented and charismatic idols was more than a little intimidating. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were curious about them too.

**You:** I mean... I guess it’s inevitable, right? As long as they promise not to interrogate me too much, I’m in.

**Jisung:** Oh, they’re definitely going to interrogate you. But don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Mostly.

You laughed, shaking your head. **You:** Mostly? That’s not very reassuring.

**Jisung:** Trust me, you’ll be fine. You’re amazing, and they’re going to love you. Just... maybe brace yourself for a lot of chaos.

The day of the meeting arrived, and Jisung had arranged for you to come to the Stray Kids dorm after their practice. You stood outside the building, clutching a small bag of pastries you’d brought as a peace offering, and took a deep breath. Before you could second-guess yourself, the door swung open, and Jisung appeared, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, pulling you into a quick hug. “You ready for this?”

“Not even a little,” you admitted, laughing nervously. “But let’s do it anyway.”

He grinned and took your hand, leading you inside. The moment you stepped into the living room, all eyes turned to you. The members were scattered around the room, some on the couch, others on the floor, but they all froze when they saw you.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Jisung announced, his voice a mix of pride and apprehension. “Y/N, this is... well, you know who they are.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, all at once, chaos erupted.

“Oh my god, it’s really her!” Felix exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

“Hi, I’m Hyunjin,” Hyunjin said, giving you a dramatic bow. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Did you really write *Whispers in the Dark*?” Jeongin asked, his eyes wide with awe. “That book destroyed me.”

“Okay, okay, give her some space,” Jisung said, stepping in front of you like a human shield. “Don’t scare her off before she even sits down.”

You laughed, holding up the bag of pastries. “I brought these as a peace offering. I figured you guys might be hungry after practice.”

“You’re already my favorite,” Changbin declared, grabbing the bag and peeking inside. “Oh, these look amazing.”

As the members dug into the pastries, the initial tension eased, and the room filled with lively chatter. They bombarded you with questions—about your books, your writing process, and how you and Jisung had met—but it was all so genuine and enthusiastic that you couldn’t help but feel at ease.

At one point, Chan leaned over to Jisung and whispered, “You’re so lucky. She’s perfect.”

Jisung grinned, his chest puffing with pride. “I know.”

The evening flew by in a blur of laughter and stories. The members took turns teasing Jisung, much to his embarrassment, but it was all in good fun. You quickly realized that this was just their way of showing affection, and you couldn’t help but admire how close they were.

As the night wound down, Jisung walked you to the door, his hand lingering in yours. “So... what did you think?” he asked, his voice soft.

“They’re amazing,” you said, smiling up at him. “A little overwhelming, but amazing. I can see why they mean so much to you.”

He smiled, his eyes warm. “Yeah, they’re my family. And now... you’re part of that too.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you squeezed his hand. “I’m glad.”

As you left the dorm, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. Meeting Jisung’s members had been a big step, but it had also brought you closer to him—and to the world he called home. And as chaotic as it was, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

——

Almost a year had passed since Jisung first stumbled into your shared sanctuary, and in that time, your bond had only grown stronger. You’d shared countless moments together—laughing over burnt pancakes, staying up late talking about your dreams, and exploring the charming streets of your alternate universe. But there was one thing Jisung had never done: kiss you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. In fact, the thought crossed his mind more often than he cared to admit. But Jisung was a gentleman at heart, and he wanted everything to be perfect. He didn’t want to rush or pressure you, so he held back, content to simply be by your side.

That is, until Minho brought it up.

It was a rare quiet afternoon at the Stray Kids dorm. Jisung was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, when Minho plopped down beside him with a mischievous grin.

“So,” Minho began, his tone dripping with curiosity, “how’s Y/N?”

Jisung glanced at him, sensing trouble. “She’s great. Why?”

Minho shrugged, feigning innocence. “No reason. I was just wondering... have you kissed her yet?”

Jisung froze, his cheeks turning bright red. “W-what? That’s none of your business!”

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying Jisung’s flustered reaction. “Almost a year together, and you haven’t even kissed her? Jisung, what are you waiting for? A written invitation?”

“It’s not that simple,” Jisung muttered, sinking into the couch. “I don’t want to mess things up. What if she’s not ready? What if I’m bad at it? What if—”

“What if you stop overthinking and just go for it?” Minho interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Y/N clearly adores you. Trust me, she’s not going to run away if you kiss her.”

Jisung groaned, covering his face with a pillow. “Why are you like this?”

Minho laughed, patting Jisung on the shoulder. “Because someone has to knock some sense into you. Now go. Be the dorky gentleman she fell for, but maybe add a little romance, huh?”

Later that evening, Jisung teleported to the alternate universe, his mind still racing from Minho’s words. You were in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you stirred a pot of soup. The sight of you—so effortlessly beautiful and at ease—made his heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorway.

You turned and smiled at him. “Hey yourself. Hungry? I made your favorite.”

He nodded, but his usual enthusiasm was replaced with a nervous energy. As the two of you sat down to eat, he couldn’t stop replaying Minho’s advice in his head. *Just go for it. Be romantic.*

After dinner, you moved to the living room, where a cozy fire crackled in the fireplace. You curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, and Jisung sat beside you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you said, tilting your head to look at him. “Everything okay?”

Jisung took a deep breath, his heart pounding. “Yeah, I just... I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?”

He hesitated, then turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. “About us. About how much you mean to me. And about how I’ve been too scared to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what he was saying. “Jisung...”

Before you could say more, he leaned in, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was warm and tentative, as if he was giving you every opportunity to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss.

It was everything Jisung had imagined and more—sweet, tender, and filled with all the emotions he’d been holding back. When he finally pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t stop the goofy grin spreading across his face.

“Wow,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “That was... wow.”

You laughed, your own cheeks tinged with pink. “Took you long enough.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder. “Don’t tease me. I was nervous, okay?”

You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his. “Well, for the record, it was worth the wait.”

Jisung smiled, his heart swelling with happiness. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he’d gotten something exactly right. And as the fire crackled and the night stretched on, he knew this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your story—one he couldn’t wait to write with you.

Over the next few months, your relationship with Jisung deepened in ways you hadn’t imagined possible. The kiss had opened a door to a new level of intimacy, and every moment you spent together felt like a treasure. Here are some of the most memorable moments that defined your journey:

The Rainy Day Adventure

One afternoon, as you both lounged in the cozy house, a sudden downpour began. The rain tapped against the windows, creating a soothing rhythm. Jisung, ever the spontaneous one, grabbed your hand and pulled you outside.

“What are you doing?!” you laughed, shielding your face from the rain.

“Living a little!” he shouted back, spinning you around in the middle of the empty street. The two of you danced and splashed in puddles like kids, completely drenched but utterly carefree. When you finally ran back inside, shivering and laughing, Jisung wrapped a blanket around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, grinning up at him.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he replied, his eyes sparkling.

The Late-Night Confession

One night, after a long day in your respective universes, you both teleported to the house at the same time. Exhausted, you collapsed onto the couch, your head resting on Jisung’s shoulder. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator.

“Can I tell you something?” Jisung asked, his voice breaking the silence.

You looked up at him, curious. “Of course.”

He hesitated, then said, “I used to think I didn’t deserve something like this—like you. Being an idol, it’s easy to feel like you’re always performing, even when you’re not on stage. But with you... I feel like I can just be me. And that means more to me than anything.”

Your heart ached at his vulnerability. “Jisung, you deserve every good thing in the world. And I’m so glad I get to be part of your life.”

He smiled, pulling you closer. “Me too.”

The First Fight

Not every moment was perfect. One day, after a particularly stressful week, you and Jisung had your first real argument. It started over something trivial—a missed text message—but quickly escalated into a heated discussion about balancing your relationship with your individual lives.

“I just feel like you don’t understand how hard it is for me to juggle everything,” Jisung said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“And I feel like you don’t understand how much I worry about you,” you shot back.

The fight ended with both of you storming off to different rooms. But after a few hours of cooling down, Jisung found you in the kitchen, where you were absently stirring a cup of tea.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, leaning against the doorway. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like your feelings don’t matter.”

You looked up at him, your anger melting away. “I’m sorry too. I know you’re doing your best.”

He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting on your head. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Together.”

The Quiet Moments

Not every moment was grand or dramatic. Some of your favorite memories were the quiet ones—reading side by side on the couch, Jisung humming as he cooked breakfast, or simply holding hands as you walked through the city. Those moments reminded you that love wasn’t always about big gestures; sometimes, it was about simply being together.

As the months turned into years, your relationship with Jisung became a tapestry of these moments—big and small, joyful and challenging. And through it all, one thing remained constant: the unwavering love and connection you shared, a bond that transcended universes and defied all odds.

——

The day of your one-year anniversary arrived, and Jisung had been acting suspiciously secretive all week. He’d been texting more than usual, disappearing for hours at a time, and even shooing you out of the house in the alternate universe with vague excuses like, “I just need to... uh, reorganize the bookshelf. Yeah.”

You played along, pretending not to notice his nervous energy, but you couldn’t help feeling excited. Jisung wasn’t exactly subtle, and you had a feeling he was planning something special.

When the day finally came, Jisung teleported to your apartment in your normal universe, looking unusually dressed up in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans. He held out his hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Ready?” he asked.

“For what?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” he said, grinning.

He led you to a rooftop garden you’d never been to before. It was breathtaking—strings of fairy lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a warm glow over the space. A small table was set up in the center, complete with candles, flowers, and a bottle of champagne. Soft music played in the background, and the city skyline stretched out before you, twinkling like a sea of stars.

“Jisung... this is incredible,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I wanted to make tonight special. Because you’re special.”

The two of you sat down to a delicious meal, laughing and reminiscing about the past year. Jisung told you stories about his early days as a trainee, and you shared your own memories of writing your first book. It was a perfect evening, filled with love and laughter.

After dinner, Jisung handed you a small, beautifully wrapped box. “Happy anniversary,” he said, his voice soft.

You opened it carefully, your breath catching when you saw what was inside. It was a delicate silver bracelet, with a tiny charm shaped like a book. Engraved on the back were the words, *“To my favorite story.”*

“Jisung...” you said, your eyes filling with tears. “It’s beautiful.”

He took the bracelet and fastened it around your wrist, his fingers lingering on your skin. “You’re my favorite story, Y/N. Every chapter with you is better than the last.”

Later that night, back in the alternate universe, the two of you sat by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket. The air between you was charged with a new kind of energy, a quiet understanding that something had shifted.

Jisung reached out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in. His kiss was slow and deliberate, filled with all the love and longing he’d been holding back. You responded in kind, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

The alternate universe’s house was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, the curtains gently swaying in the breeze from the open window. You and Jisung had spent the evening wrapped in each other’s arms, talking and laughing, but as the hours passed, the air between you shifted. There was a new kind of tension, a quiet understanding that something deeper was unfolding.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the sheets, when Jisung walked over and knelt in front of you. His eyes, usually so full of mischief and energy, were soft and serious as they met yours.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to know something.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding as you waited for him to continue.

“You mean everything to me,” he said, his hands resting on your knees. “Not just because of the soulmate mark or because of this universe. You mean everything because of who you are. Because you make me feel like I can be myself, completely and without fear.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to cup his face. “Jisung, you’re my whole world. More than I can ever put into words.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment before he stood up, pulling you with him. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as if he was savoring the moment. But when you responded, kissing him back with equal intensity, the hesitation melted away.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, filled with all the love and longing you’d both been holding back. His hands moved to the small of your back, pressing you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair. Every touch, every breath, felt like a promise—a promise to love, to protect, to cherish.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He smiled, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he leaned in again, his lips trailing soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck. Your breath hitched as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his touch gentle but confident. He pulled it over your head, his eyes never leaving yours as he took in the sight of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, but before you could respond, he kissed you again, his hands exploring every inch of your skin. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he slowly undressed you, each movement filled with reverence.

When you were both bare, he laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours. His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, you felt completely and utterly seen. There was no pretense, no masks—just the two of you, raw and vulnerable.

He kissed you again, his hands roaming your body as if he was memorizing every curve, every freckle. His lips trailed down your chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped as he reached the sensitive skin of your stomach, your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Jisung,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire but still filled with love. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’ll always have you.”

When he finally entered you, it was slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. The connection between you was overwhelming, a perfect blend of physical and emotional intimacy. Every movement, every touch, was filled with love and trust, a silent promise that this was more than just passion—it was forever.

As the world outside faded away, it was just the two of you, lost in each other. The stars outside the window seemed to shine brighter, as if they were bearing witness to this moment, this unbreakable bond between soulmates.

When it was over, you lay together, your bodies intertwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal. Jisung pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you.

“You’re my forever,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

You smiled, your heart overflowing with love. “And you’re mine.”

And as you drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, you knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of moments like this—moments of love, of trust, of unshakable connection.

The morning after your anniversary, you woke up to the soft sound of Jisung humming. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You turned to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed and looking at you with a soft smile.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice gentle.

“Good morning,” you replied, stretching lazily. “What are you doing up so early?”

He shrugged, his smile turning mischievous. “I wanted to make you breakfast. But I also didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You sat up, pulling the blanket around you. “Breakfast, huh? Should I be worried?”

He laughed, standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on, let’s find out.”

In the kitchen, Jisung had laid out an impressive spread—pancakes, fresh fruit, and even a pot of your favorite tea. You raised an eyebrow, impressed.

“Did you actually make all this?” you asked, teasing.

“Hey, I’m full of surprises,” he said, pretending to be offended. “Besides, I had some help from a certain someone who may or may not have left me a recipe.”

You laughed, sitting down at the table. “Well, it looks amazing. Thank you.”

As you ate, the conversation flowed easily, filled with the kind of comfortable banter that had become second nature to you. Jisung told you about a new song he was working on, and you shared your latest writing project. It was a perfect morning, filled with laughter and love.

After breakfast, Jisung suggested spending the day exploring the alternate universe’s city. The two of you wandered through the streets, hand in hand, stopping at little shops and cafes along the way. It was a rare treat to be able to go out without worrying about paparazzi or fans, and you soaked in every moment.

At one point, you stumbled upon a small park with a beautiful fountain in the center. Jisung pulled you over to it, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Make a wish,” he said, handing you a coin.

You closed your eyes, thought for a moment, and tossed the coin into the water. When you opened your eyes, Jisung was watching you with a curious smile.

“What did you wish for?” he asked.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” you replied, teasing.

He pouted, but then his expression softened. “I think I can guess.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s that?”

He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “That we’ll always have this. That no matter what happens, we’ll always find our way back to each other.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to cup his cheek. “You’re pretty good at guessing.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know you better than you think.”

As the stars began to appear in the sky, you and Jisung sat together, wrapped in a blanket and lost in your own world. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear—you were in this together, no matter what.

——

Despite Jisung’s initial reluctance, the Stray Kids members eventually wore him down and convinced him to let them spend a day with you in your normal universe. Jisung had been hesitant, worried about how the group dynamic might overwhelm you, but he finally gave in after relentless teasing and pleading from the members. “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “But if any of you embarrass me, I’m kicking you out of the dorm.”

The day started early, with Jisung picking you up from your apartment. He was unusually jittery, pacing back and forth as you grabbed your bag. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, his voice tinged with both excitement and anxiety. “They’re... a lot.”

You laughed, slipping your hand into his. “I think I can handle it. Besides, I’ve been curious about meeting them properly.”

The plan was to meet the group at a popular café in Seoul, one that was known for being idol-friendly and discreet. When you arrived, the members were already there, seated around a large table and chatting animatedly. The moment Jisung walked in with you, the room erupted.

“Finally!” Changbin exclaimed, standing up and waving dramatically. “We were starting to think Jisung was hiding you forever.”

“Y/N!” Felix called out, his bright smile lighting up the room. “Over here!”

You waved back, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as Jisung led you to the table. Introductions were quick—most of them already knew who you were, thanks to Jisung’s endless stories—and soon you were seated between Jisung and Hyunjin, who immediately started asking you about your latest book.

“I read it in one sitting,” Hyunjin said, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. “The way you write about emotions—it’s like you’re inside my head.”

You laughed, flattered. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

The café visit was just the beginning. From there, the group decided to make a day of it, dragging you along to various spots around Seoul. First was a visit to a popular arcade, where Jeongin challenged you to a game of air hockey. (“I’m not going easy on you just because you’re Jisung’s soulmate,” he declared, only to lose spectacularly.)

Next was a spontaneous karaoke session in a private room, where the members took turns performing their favorite songs. Jisung, of course, stole the show with an impromptu rap he’d written about you, much to your embarrassment and the group’s delight.

“Y/N, you’re inspiring lyrics now!” Chan teased, clapping Jisung on the back. “Watch out, or he’ll write a whole album about you.”

Jisung’s cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t deny it. “Maybe I will,” he muttered, earning a round of cheers from the group.

Amid the chaos, there were quieter moments too. At one point, Minho pulled you aside while the others were busy arguing over which song to sing next. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

You nodded, following him to a quieter corner of the room. “Is everything okay?”

Minho smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just wanted to say... you’re good for him, you know. Jisung. He’s happier when he’s with you.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you felt a warm rush of gratitude. “Thank you, Minho. That means a lot.”

He shrugged, his usual playful demeanor returning. “Don’t tell him I said that, though. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You laughed, promising to keep it between the two of you.

By late afternoon, the group was starving, so they decided to hit up a famous barbecue spot. The meal was a feast, with plates of meat, kimchi, and banchan covering the table. Jisung, ever the gentleman, made sure your plate was always full, even as the others playfully fought over the last piece of samgyeopsal.

“Y/N, you have to try this,” Felix said, handing you a piece of grilled pork wrapped in lettuce. “It’s life-changing.”

You took a bite, nodding in agreement. “Okay, you’re right. This is amazing.”

As the meal went on, the conversation turned to stories about Jisung—embarrassing ones, of course. “Remember that time he tripped on stage during rehearsal?” Seungmin said, grinning. “He tried to play it off like it was part of the choreography.”

Jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Why do you guys do this to me?”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Don’t worry. I think it’s cute.”

As the sun began to set, the group reluctantly decided to call it a day. The members hugged you goodbye, each of them promising to hang out again soon. “You’re officially one of us now,” Chan said, giving you a warm smile. “Welcome to the family.”

Jisung walked you home, his hand firmly in yours. “So... what did you think?” he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You smiled up at him. “I think they’re amazing. A little overwhelming, but amazing. I can see why they mean so much to you.”

He sighed in relief, pulling you into a hug. “I’m glad you had fun. And... thanks for putting up with them. They can be a lot.”

You laughed, resting your head against his chest. “They’re your family. And now they’re mine too.”

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realized just how much your life had changed since meeting Jisung. It wasn’t just him—it was his world, his friends, his family. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But then, it happened.

A fan recognized Jisung. Then another. And another. Within minutes, a crowd had gathered, phones out, cameras flashing. You tried to stay calm, but the situation escalated quickly. Someone snapped a photo of Jisung holding your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. Another caught him leaning in to whisper something in your ear, his expression soft and intimate.

The photos went viral within hours.

The internet exploded. Your fans were thrilled, flooding your social media with messages of support and excitement. “Finally!” one comment read. “We always knew you’d find your soulmate!” But Jisung’s fans were... less kind. While some were happy for him, others lashed out, accusing you of being a distraction or questioning the authenticity of your relationship. The comments were relentless, and the pressure was overwhelming.

Jisung tried to shield you from the worst of it, but it was impossible to avoid. The constant scrutiny, the invasive questions, the speculation—it all became too much. You started having anxiety attacks, your chest tightening every time you opened your phone or stepped outside. Jisung, who had battled social anxiety himself, recognized the signs immediately.

“We need to get out of here,” he said one night, his voice firm but gentle. “Just for a little while. Until things calm down.”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t do this, Jisung. I can’t.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “You don’t have to. We’ll figure it out together.”

The two of you teleported to the alternate universe, to the house that had always been your sanctuary. For a month, you disappeared from the world. No social media, no interviews, no public appearances. Just you and Jisung, finding solace in each other and the quiet life you’d built together.

During that time, Jisung kept in touch with Chan, who acted as a bridge between you and the outside world. “Y/N’s struggling,” Jisung explained during one of their calls. “She’s having social anxiety, and I know how bad that can be. I need to protect her.”

Chan understood. “Take all the time you need,” he said. “We’ll handle things on this end.”

The members were supportive, sending messages of encouragement and keeping the worst of the rumors at bay. But even with their help, the outside world felt like a distant, hostile place.

After a month, things began to calm down. The initial frenzy had died down, and while the comments and speculation hadn’t completely stopped, they were less overwhelming. You and Jisung spent hours talking about what to do next.

“We can’t hide forever,” you said one evening, sitting by the fireplace. “I don’t want to live in fear.”

Jisung nodded, his hand squeezing yours. “I don’t either. But we need to do this on our terms.”

Together, you decided to make an official statement. It was time to tell the world the truth—about your soulmate marks, about your relationship, and about the need for privacy.

The day of the announcement, you and Jisung sat side by side, holding hands as you recorded a video. It was short but heartfelt.

“Hi, everyone,” Jisung began, his voice steady. “We wanted to take a moment to address the rumors and share something important with you. Y/N and I... we’re soulmates. We discovered this almost two years ago, and it’s been the most incredible journey of our lives.”

You smiled, picking up where he left off. “Our relationship is something we’ve always cherished, and we’ve worked hard to protect it. But recently, things have gotten out of hand. The invasion of our privacy has been overwhelming, and it’s taken a toll on both of us.”

Jisung nodded, his expression serious. “We’re asking for your understanding and respect. We’re just two people trying to navigate life together, and we hope you can support us in a way that allows us to do that.”

The video ended with a simple message: “Thank you for your love and support. Please give us the space we need to be happy.”

The reaction was mixed but mostly positive. Your fans rallied behind you, flooding your social media with messages of love and support. Jisung’s fans, while still divided, began to come around, many of them expressing their respect for your honesty and vulnerability.

The Stray Kids members were the first to publicly support you, posting messages of encouragement and urging fans to respect your privacy. “Love is love,” Chan wrote. “Let’s give them the space they deserve.”

In the weeks that followed, you and Jisung slowly began to re-enter the world. You were more cautious, more intentional about what you shared and how you presented yourselves. But the weight of secrecy was gone, replaced by a sense of freedom and relief.

One evening, as you sat together in the alternate universe’s house, Jisung turned to you with a smile. “We made it through,” he said. “And we’re stronger because of it.”

You nodded, leaning into him. “Yeah, we are. And no matter what happens, we’ll always have this.”

As the fire crackled and the stars shone outside, you knew that this was just another chapter in your story—a story that was far from over.

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