THE SHARPEST LIVES

drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands.

[mikashisus]

🎸 。。。 ARTEMIS is your favorite rockstar with a dash of haterism ! theythem. twentyone.

NOW PLAYING : BACK TO LIFE ノ HAN JISUNG

CHECK THIS OUT ! rules. about me. m.list. ao3. taglist. moots. @maplewood-valley. tags.

© 2025 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[tryingtogetaway]

love is not as transient and conditional as some of you guys think it is. when people tell you they care about you, they don’t change their mind ten minutes later because you said something weird or annoying. the people that love you will still love you when you do things that upset them. love doesn’t instantly disappear like that

[rowenaluvr]

✶ . ၄၃ . FIC WRITER ASK GAME !

any [insert __] is for the sender to fill in :)

1 ⧽. if you could sit down and finish any one of your wips without anything stopping you (time, tiredness, etc), which fic would you choose? tell us about it if you want!

2 ⧽. if you could sit down and finish any completely new fic without anything stopping you (time, tiredness, etc), what would you write? tell us about it if you want!

3 ⧽. what's something you like about your writing?

4 ⧽. is there an au or trope that you haven't written before, but would want to try?

5 ⧽. is there a certain kind of fic that feels the most satisfying to finish? any reason why?

6 ⧽. if you were to write a part two/sequel to a fic, what fic would you want to write it for?

7 ⧽. is there a fic you wish you received feedback on, but didn't get any/much? this ask game is asking someone else to then give feedback on said fic, pretty pretty please!!!

8 ⧽. what part of [insert fic] is your favorite?

9 ⧽. tell us about a wip/idea that you're excited about!

10 ⧽. what genre is generally the easiest or most enjoyable for you to write? which is the hardest?

11 ⧽. if you were to rewrite [insert fic] with [insert different character/ship] how do you think it might change?

12 ⧽. what's a song or two you associate with [insert fic]?

13 ⧽. do you have any writing projects/goals/plans you're working on/want to work on?

14 ⧽. is there anything outside of your normal content that you want to write?

15 ⧽. if you wrote a fic called [insert title] with [insert character/ship] what do you think it might be about?

16 ⧽. if you wrote a fic called [insert title] what character/ship would you want to write it for?

17 ⧽. are there any songs you want to write a songfic for?

18 ⧽. how do you want your writing to feel to your readers?

19 ⧽. give a hint/teaser about something you're writing without any context or explanation! tease us haha

20 ⧽. answer any one of the other questions that you want to!

[rowenaluvr]

✶ . ၄၃ . FIC WRITER ASK GAME !

any [insert __] is for the sender to fill in :)

1 ⧽. if you could sit down and finish any one of your wips without anything stopping you (time, tiredness, etc), which fic would you choose? tell us about it if you want!

2 ⧽. if you could sit down and finish any completely new fic without anything stopping you (time, tiredness, etc), what would you write? tell us about it if you want!

3 ⧽. what's something you like about your writing?

4 ⧽. is there an au or trope that you haven't written before, but would want to try?

5 ⧽. is there a certain kind of fic that feels the most satisfying to finish? any reason why?

6 ⧽. if you were to write a part two/sequel to a fic, what fic would you want to write it for?

7 ⧽. is there a fic you wish you received feedback on, but didn't get any/much? this ask game is asking someone else to then give feedback on said fic, pretty pretty please!!!

8 ⧽. what part of [insert fic] is your favorite?

9 ⧽. tell us about a wip/idea that you're excited about!

10 ⧽. what genre is generally the easiest or most enjoyable for you to write? which is the hardest?

11 ⧽. if you were to rewrite [insert fic] with [insert different character/ship] how do you think it might change?

12 ⧽. what's a song or two you associate with [insert fic]?

13 ⧽. do you have any writing projects/goals/plans you're working on/want to work on?

14 ⧽. is there anything outside of your normal content that you want to write?

15 ⧽. if you wrote a fic called [insert title] with [insert character/ship] what do you think it might be about?

16 ⧽. if you wrote a fic called [insert title] what character/ship would you want to write it for?

17 ⧽. are there any songs you want to write a songfic for?

18 ⧽. how do you want your writing to feel to your readers?

19 ⧽. give a hint/teaser about something you're writing without any context or explanation! tease us haha

20 ⧽. answer any one of the other questions that you want to!

[harsh-noise]

[mcnamak]

My best advice for people new to adulthood: keep emergency food around.

I don't mean like those prepper type people. I mean keep a granola bar in your purse or backpack. If you have a car, keep a jar of peanuts in there.

This is good for if you miss your bus, or forget your wallet somewhere, or get stuck in traffic. You never know when you are going to feel shaky, and it's better to have something quick and easy on hand, in case you need it.

Having emergency food around is your best friend. Trust me.

[mikashisus]

STOP EDITING HIM TO EMO MUSIC, IM DRIPPING

[mikashisus]

my super graphic ultra modern girl

• lee felix x f!reader. ( contents : fluff, comedy, smau, mdni, nsfw (implied threesomes and anal), dark humor, gay jokes (mc is implied bi and also uses she/they), masc and fem terms used for felix )

• notes. if u don’t like how i’ve written or portrayed the mc, then read smth else. also hi im back, shit hit the fan for me twice but just like hannie i always come back to life. AND HAPPY PRIDE MONTH !!!!

part three part four part five

footnotes. i got broken up with two days ago lol. gotta love when someone’s emotionally unavailable and makes excuses for being terrible at communication and lies to u throughout ur entire relationship #lovinglife. anyw hru guys

taglist. @aliensstolemyheart @danielle143 @hey-itsem @franaby @dina-10s-blog @hanniesbubuwife @sunshinesfreckless — click here to sign up for my permanent taglist!

© 2026 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[mikashisus]

my super graphic ultra modern girl

• lee felix x f!reader. ( contents : fluff, comedy, smau, mdni, nsfw (implied threesomes and anal), dark humor, gay jokes (mc is implied bi and also uses she/they), masc and fem terms used for felix )

• notes. if u don’t like how i’ve written or portrayed the mc, then read smth else. also hi im back, shit hit the fan for me twice but just like hannie i always come back to life. AND HAPPY PRIDE MONTH !!!!

part three part four part five

footnotes. i got broken up with two days ago lol. gotta love when someone’s emotionally unavailable and makes excuses for being terrible at communication and lies to u throughout ur entire relationship #lovinglife. anyw hru guys

taglist. @aliensstolemyheart @danielle143 @hey-itsem @franaby @dina-10s-blog @hanniesbubuwife @sunshinesfreckless — click here to sign up for my permanent taglist!

© 2026 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[mikashisus]

this is the alt hannie edit i cant stop thinking abt

[lakemojave]

Happy Pride Month everyone! Remember 4 months ago when the CEO of this platform harassed and chased a trans woman off this website just for posting her transition timeline, then chased her to other social media platforms to continue harassing her, and threatened to call the FBI if she continued disputing the multiple dubious terminations of her blogs that did not violate tumblr's terms of service in any way? And despite tumblr staff insisting that the CEO was acting against their interests, the broad transmisogyny evident in the site's culture and moderation policy has still not been adequately addressed?

[lakemojave]

Remember that staff is continuing to nuke the blogs of trans women even after all of this. Remember this post when they call this site the queerest place on the internet again this month

[lakemojave]

It's 2 years later. It's gotten worse. Happy pride month.

[mikashisus]

greedy

• lee felix x f!reader. ( content : smut MDNI, rimming (m.receiving), sub!lix, oral fixation, mommy kink, whiny lix )

• notes. if u saw me post this a few days ago no u didnt … anyw lix drabble bc this has been bouncing around in my head for AGES. if this flops, let’s all pretend it doesn’t exist okay ? okay !

“that’s it, baby”

you gently push a finger past felix’s tight rim, watching in awe as it adjusts to fit it. your hands are slick with a mix of lube and your own juices.

underneath you, felix shudders at the sudden intrusion, his thighs twitching. his nails dig into the sheets, mouth parting to let a small whine out.

“p-please…” he begs, pushing back on the finger stretching him out. “please mommy, more…”

“shhhh” you coo into his ear, running your free hand down the soft curve of his back. “be good for me, angel. you can do that, right?”

he nods with a short hum, bucking his hips again as you glide your index finger against his tight walls. “i’ll be good, promi—“ he cuts himself off with a startled moan, eyes rolling back as you poke your middle finger past his rim to join the other.

it slides in, greedily taking the attention. you watch as his hole flutters around your fingers, wet and gripping them like a vice. you lick your lips.

“such a greedy little thing, sucking me in like this,” you lean over him, planting kisses along his bare shoulder, “can you take another, baby? can you be a good boy?”

“yes, mommy!” he cries, another full body shudder running through him. he shakes helplessly against your chest.

“so pretty…” you pull back, slipping your fingers from his hole and watching as it flutters, mourning the loss.

he whines, his lips forming a cute pout. he pushes his hips back, eager for you to put your fingers back in. you grip his ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“patience, pretty.”

a whimper escapes this time. you love the cute sounds he makes for you when he’s under you, pliant and trusting as you do whatever you please with him.

you spread his cheeks wide, thumbing the rim of his hole, earning another desperate whine that sends heat straight to your core. you run your wet fingers over him slowly, savoring the image as his hole clenches and his hips jolt.

you gather up the spit in your mouth, leaning down to his pretty, waiting hole, and let it drip from your lips. it falls slowly, dipping into the crevice and sliding down. a series of whimpers follows.

you know what he wants, and you’d be a fool not to give it to him. he’s been so good, after all— so sweet and so ready for you.

with a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the back of his thigh, you make your way higher until your tongue laves over the divots of his perfect hole.

his hips cant forward, away from your hot mouth, and he whines in surprise. you pull him back to you, squeezing the soft flesh of his ass again.

“be good, pretty.”

“s-sorry, mommy. i’ll be g—“ he screams in delight as you run your tongue over his hole again, faster this time and flicking inside.

“please mommy… so good,” he whimpers, digging his face into the wet sheets he’s been drooling on this whole time.

you hum, swirling your tongue around his rim and pushing inside. he jolts again, and you forcefully hold him still. “you taste so good, angel.”

he keens, back arching and hole fluttering around your tongue. he grinds into the sheets, putting friction against his leaking cock.

you pull away to spit on his hole before diving back in, licking and sucking on his rim.

he squirms pleasantly, hips bucking into the mattress as you hold his legs open and ass spread wide. a few more helpless jolts later and he’s cumming hard, eyes rolling back into his head and body shaking relentlessly with his release.

you plant a wet kiss to his hole and move on to his cheeks before kissing your way up his spine. “such a good boy for me, weren’t you?”

he whines softly and nods, face flushed red and lips parted. drool pools in a wet spot under where his face is pressed to the sheets.

you trail your hands up his sides, delighting in the way he trembles under your touch. “so pretty. rest baby, i’ll clean you up.”

footnotes. i don’t usually write or post smut so i hope this was at least okay 💔 it’s been a long while LOL but i HAD to get this out, i couldnt stop thinking about it 🫪

© 2026 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[mikashisus]

burning like a glowing star

synopsis. you return to camp half-blood after five years on account of humbling the new generation of ares children, only to face everything you left behind: a boy wrapped in gold and glitter, born from the sun itself with the patience of a saint and a heart that still beats for you despite your complicated history.

• child of apollo!felix x gn!child of ares!reader. 3.4k. ( contents : angst, hurt/comfort, second chances, exes to lovers, pjo au + soulmate au )

• notes. haha hey .. this took me forever to write bc i kept hating each draft i wrote but here’s the final product of my entry for emmie and attie’s secret stay event ! @lily-5 im ur secret stay and i hope u enjoy !! 🤍

Camp Half-Blood was the same as you remembered. Same colorful cabins, same sweaty campers littered across the lawn sparring with one another, and same Mr. D slouched over his desk, snoring obnoxiously loud and clutching a bottle of vodka to his chest.

When you agreed to help out Chiron for the Summer, there was no "babysit Dionysus" listed on the fine print. That wasn't your job— or anyone's, for that matter. You were only here to throw around your younger siblings and teach them what it meant to be humbled. You knew what you were getting into as soon as the call with Chiron had ended. All of Dionysus' work would inevitably be passed off to you.

It was way too late to turn back now.

"Hey deadbeat," you said, announcing your arrival as you stepped into the camp's office. The god startled from his sleep as you whacked him over the head with your duffel. "Miss me?"

He blinked, clearly hungover and out of it. "Who are you again?"

Ignoring him, you looked around. "Where's Chiron?"

"Okay, good to see you too." He sighed and stood from the desk chair. "He's out right now. Until he comes back, I'm in charge."

"Oh wonderful," you retorted, rolling your eyes, "just what I need right now, someone who's hungover and incompetent. Do you do anything besides sit on your ass all day and drink yourself to death?"

"Yes, actually. I have to watch over tikes every second of every day." He quipped and picked up the clipboard sitting on the desk. He took a deep breath, glanced up at you, and threw the clipboard over his shoulder. "Now, that's your job."

You crossed your arms. "Uh, that's not what I signed up for, and I refuse to do your job for you just because you're too lazy to do it yourself."

"Ah, there you are!"

A familiar figure walked into the office. Looking over your shoulder, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. Sleek black hair, dark eyes still full of that catlike mischief they held when you were teenagers, and the same smug smirk that used to tell you he was absolutely up to no good.

Minho. Your brother.

"I've been waiting for you all day!" He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, forcefully pulling you into an embrace. His voice was sweet as he cooed at you in that gentle candor he only reserved for those he cared about. "Have you been taking care of yourself? How's the cats? What about Jisung, is he—?"

"Yes, they're fine, and he's still annoying." You attempted to pull yourself out of his grip, only to fail miserably and accept your fate. Some things never changed between you two.

He turned to the god still glaring at you. "I'll take it from here, Mr. D." He sent him a curt nod and guided you out of the office, keeping a firm grip on your shoulder.

The tour Minho gave you around camp was boring, but informative. More cabins were added for children of lesser gods, the inhabitants of Hermes cabin could finally breathe without being on top of each other, and the training grounds expanded to fit more people. Along the way, the two of you stopped talking about everything that changed at camp, and began catching up.

The last time you had seen Minho was five years ago when he moved out of your shared apartment to pursue higher education and move back to camp to become a full-time staff member alongside Chiron and Dionysus. You had promised to care for his cats— which also included letting his boyfriend, Jisung, stay with you at your place. Jisung got a job to pay his half of the rent, and was an overall okay roommate the entire five years he stayed with you.

A few of your old friends also worked at camp. Chris, a son of Athena and one of the smartest people you knew, was planning on opening a proper school for demigod children to attend year-round. Seungmin, a son of Hades, was working alongside him, handling the logistics.

When you spoke over the phone with Chiron, he told you both men would show up from time to time to chat with him about the project.

And finally—

You looked up, mid laugh, and spotted him. Felix.

He didn't look all that different. Same blonde hair that was faded at the root, same eyes that crinkled when he laughed, same blindingly bright smile that you were always convinced could heal the deepest wounds. He had that same model-esque stride with the same golden bow slung over his shoulder that was gifted to him personally by his father, Apollo.

The pride of Apollo's offspring, and your ex boyfriend.

You quickly looked away, ignoring the ache in your chest, and followed Minho as he led you back to a place you once called home: Ares cabin.

Familiarity washed over you as you stepped inside. You couldn't help but smile, seeing everything exactly as it had been when you were here. Weapons mounted on the walls, heavy metal blasting from someone's beaten speaker, clothes strewn across every piece of furniture, and a few kids wrestling on the floor like pack animals.

Minho sighed fondly, his voice tinged with a bit of exhaustion that only came from taking care of children everyday. "Home sweet fucked up home."

As the days passed, you managed to narrowly avoid Felix. Somehow, he had already known you'd be coming, even before any of the staff mentioned it to him, and way before Chiron thought to ask for your help. In Minho's words, it was "prophesized" or whatever bullshit. You scoffed it off, but underneath the feigned nonchalance, you knew it was true.

If Felix had a vision, it was bound to come to fruition. And sure enough, it had. Here you were, back at the camp where you made the best memories of your youth, while simultaneously living through the worst years of your life.

To your surprise, Felix didn't seek you out. He made no move to talk to you, avoiding you almost as much as you had with him. Something prickled under your skin when you saw him completely turn around and head back the way he came, acting as though he never saw you.

You tried to forget about it. You tried to shrug it off and tell yourself it didn't matter to you, even though it did. The anger that was accumulating over the days that passed was taken out during your training sessions with your younger siblings— who, as far as Chiron was concerned, were getting way too barbaric and needed some discipline that only you could enforce.

"Why not ask Minho?" You questioned when the proposal was brought up.

All you got in response was that "Minho doesn't like rough-housing with the kids," and "You'll be tougher with them."

You knew it was code for "they're bitches and the only way they'll listen is if a bigger bitch makes them cry." Which, in a way, flattered you more than you cared to admit.

So here you were, throwing each of them to the ground with a strength that could only be seen in seasoned warriors from the lines of the two war gods themselves. Did some of the kids cry like Chiron suspected? Yes, very much so. Did you feel any remorse? None.

As he warned, these kids were exceptionally cocky— even more so than your generation. Knocking them all down a peg was quite fun, too. In fact, you were starting to enjoy your new job.

"Come on!" You yelled, a bloodthirsty smirk on your face as you cricked your neck and motioned for the next one to step forward and challenge you. They hesitated, visibly gulping, before stepping forward and taking a fighting stance.

Their form was all wrong, They'd let you get in a hit before they even blinked or tried to correct it. Your eye twitched. Did they even know how to fight at all? Where was their honor? Their pride?

A huff of frustration left your lips, and you crossed your arms. "Enough." The kid's face was a mix of relief for not having to fight you, and slight fear for what you were about to say. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking in their slouched shoulders and bored expressions.

"You're not children of Ares," you stated coldly, glaring at the lot of them. The crowd erupted into protests. "Enough!"

Your voice echoed across the lawn, causing others to turn to see what was going on. The kids' protests faded into silence. You hummed in satisfaction under your breath and stepped forward. "You know nothing about what it means to fight. You know nothing about honor. About pride."

Stopping in front of a girl with deep brown hair and olive skin, you stared down at her. She shook slightly, terror barely masked under her indifferent facade. "What was the first thing you learned upon coming here?" You asked her, watching carefully as her expression shifted from shocked to thoughtful.

"Um. Raw strength can overpower any foe—"

"Wrong. Raw strength is nothing against an opponent who possesses wit and cleverness to outsmart you. Have you ever fought our cousins?"

A collective groan surfaced from the crowd. You smirked despite yourself. "They're know-it-alls, aren't they?" They all nodded, rolling their eyes. "Let me say this. Whatever you thought you knew about fighting… it's all wrong. From this day on, you won't just be fighting me. I'll be rebuilding you all from the ground up. When I leave, you'll have the pride to call yourselves children of the god of war. Right now, you're far from that title."

With a sigh, you dismissed them. "Take a break. It'll be the last one you get for a while." You smiled as you watched their faces drain of color from your words.

"You're good with them," Minho said later when you flopped down onto the couch in the staff lounge.

"They're all sorry excuses for warriors," you spat, nursing a headache. "At this rate, they'll never win a fight."

That same, familiar small smile formed on his lips. "They will with your help."

You sighed again, heavier this time. "Fighting isn't just about winning or who has more strength. It's about strategy. You gotta think like a warrior, not like some sorry excuse for a babbling idiot who's all talk."

He chuckled. "Careful, you're starting to sound like our cousins."

"And yet I'm dad's favorite." You smirked, watching as he rolled his eyes and shoved you playfully.

"The pride of Ares' children," Felix muttered, watching you from afar as you worked through reteaching your siblings what it meant to fight.

Chris looked up, following his line of sight, and smiled. "They're something, aren't they? Always have been."

Felix sighed, a melancholic look in his eyes. "Yeah."

He's always been fascinated by the way you fight. Hardcore, brutal, barely letting your opponent get a hit in while you barrage with attacks and always stay on the offensive. You weave around them with a certain grace that always made him wonder if you had taken dance classes as a child.

Despite your obvious bloodlust, you also possessed a cleverness that often made others believe you were a child of Athena rather than a proud child of Ares. You never blamed them, and although your other siblings would've seen it as an insult, you liked the assumption. You always have.

Felix remembered the first day he met you, when you bravely stood up for him against one of your siblings. The day you coined the term "the black sheep of Ares cabin" because you were more like your cousins than your own family. He remembered the way you punched them without hesitation, how your voice raised, steady and firm, into a yell that sent them scampering away. The way your knuckles bled from the punch and you didn't so much as flinch from the pain. The way you watched them run off before turning to him, huffing at the tears streaking down his face, and said: "Stop crying. I'll teach you to fight."

That was the day it all started. From then on, his heart began to beat a little faster and his eyes sparkled every time he spotted you. He couldn't help the blinding smile that took over whenever you opened your mouth, and he couldn't stop the way he felt drawn to your warmth, always seeking out some form of touch from you. He thrived in the brushes of your hands and the soft touching of your shoulders that eventually fell into side-hugs and hand holding, then cuddles and kissing.

His smile faded at the memories of your shared youth and the way things ended the last time he saw you. The argument from back then still stung. It still made his chest ache and his throat tighten. He wished it never ended the way it did. But he knew it couldn't be taken back now. It was simply too late.

He couldn't change the past, but he could definitely shape the future.

So, he waited. He waited patiently, because he already knew how this would play out. He saw it in the vision he had about you, and he more than anyone understood the fruitful rewards that patience bore. He spent afternoons reading and practicing archery. He spent nights healing campers and mornings brewing tea for the staff. He veered around you and waited until you sought him out.

It was sooner than he initially thought. He was mixing herbs, preparing a new healing blend he wanted to try out, when you walked into the infirmary, covered in purpling bruises and sporting a split lip. He eyed the scar under your left eye. The sight always made his blood run cold remembering the cause.

You said nothing as you approached, sinking down onto the stiff bed beside where he was working and letting out a pained sigh. He stared at you for a moment before pushing his things aside. "Where does it hurt?" He asked, soft and gentle.

A beat of silence passed before you motioned to your ribs. His lips twitched up slightly at the corners. He knew what that meant. You and Minho had been sparring. He shook his head fondly and finished preparing the new healing blend.

"You're in luck," he smiled, taking a seat next to the bed. "I just finished a new blend."

He motioned for you to lift your shirt a little. You grabbed the hem, your palms sweaty and your pulse still humming with adrenaline from the spar with your brother. With a little reluctance, you lifted it, exposing the skin of your side to him.

"Happy to be your guinea pig once again." You sighed out in mock annoyance.

His lips twitched up in that half smile you were all too familiar with. It was the same one he made in awkward situations where he never knew what to say to dissolve the tension. He applied the balm in silence, and you shuddered at the coldness of it. The warmth of his touch immediately soothed the icy feeling.

"How's the new job going?" He questioned, applying the balm to every bruise that littered your skin.

"Tiring," you scoffed, but there was a ghost of a smile on your lips. "They're not warriors. Not even close. Disgraces, the lot of them."

He chuckled in response. "Yeah, they're a handful." His eyes flickered to meet yours. "So are you, y'know."

Warmth bloomed in your chest. "I've gotten better. I'm not fighting every single person in sight like I used to. I care for cats."

He laughed this time, loud and fond. "You mean your brother's cats?" He teased, watching as you rolled your eyes.

"Cut me some slack, he trusts me with them. They like me."

Silence passed over you as the words settled in the air. There was no move to fill it as he finished up rubbing the balm into your skin. He sat back, a soft sigh escaping through his nose. He removed his gloves and tossed them into the trash before capping the balm and placing it somewhere on the medicine cabinet.

You always liked how he worked. Efficiently, softly, carrying himself with the same confidence you had whenever you got into a fight. It eased you a little to know he was still the same diligent guy you once knew. Quieter, yes, but still gentle and surrounded by the sun that always favored him.

He caught your gaze. "You're staring again."

Again?

"No I'm not." You looked away, embarrassed at having been caught.

He smiled. "Whatever floats your boat." He began organizing his desk, and you stole glances at him from the corner of your eye. He pretended like he didn't notice. "You're free to go, if you have no other injuries."

"Gonna stay for a bit," you said quietly, picking at the fuzz on the infirmary bed. "'M tired." It wasn't entirely a lie. Your body was screaming at you to just go to sleep after the long week you had.

He didn't say anything, just let you rest for a bit. The silence became all too loud a few minutes later, and you began to fidget. He noticed, as he always did (damn his sharp eye) and placed a water bottle next to you.

"Here."

You pushed his hand away. "I'm fine."

"You're antsy. Drink. Doctor's orders." He smirked.

You glared at him. His smirk only widened. "What's with that look? C'mon, drink."

"I don't like you." You spat, your heart hammering against your chest as he raised the bottle to your lips.

You wished it was true; That you really did hate him. But you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried.

Instead of getting teary eyed like you thought he would, he smiled, and in a teasing voice, said, "Because you still secretly love me?"

The world tilted for a moment. You paused, your throat tightening and your eyes stinging with unshed tears. He wasn't far from the truth, and you hated that he could still read you despite all the time that had passed between you. His smile softened into something knowing, and he looked away as red crept up the back of his neck and covered his ears. He cleared his throat.

"I do…" he muttered, and you looked at him, startled. He took a breath, then, "I still love you, too… if- if you'll give us a chance again."

You stared at him for a moment, your eyes wide and your stomach doing backflips. Had he really just told you he wanted to get back together? Had he really just said he still loved you?

"I…" you trailed off, thinking about it. "I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship right now, Felix."

He nodded, and you watched as his heart broke in real time. "I understand." He straightened his shoulders in that same way he always did after hearing news he wasn't happy with, but had no choice to accept.

"But," you continued before he could walk away from you, "maybe… we could take it slow?"

His head perked up again, eyes wide and sparkling like you just handed him the whole world. That same blinding smile that took over his whole face and crinkled his eyes took shape, bashful and full of unbridled joy. You watched the way the sun filtering in through the windows bended to fit his form; How it circled him like a blanket and fell over his head like a crown. His skin seemed to be glowing underneath its caress, only growing brighter as the seconds passed.

"You mean it?" He asked, uncertainty laced in his tone as he took a step toward you.

You almost scowled at the way the sun followed, naturally, always attached to him like a second skin. "Yeah, I mean it."

He brightened further, if that was possible, and gently took hold of your hand. You felt it then, the warmth of his touch and how it burned your skin the same way it always had. Despite your distaste for the sun, you loved the burn he provided. It was a comforting embrace you didn't realize you missed until he was holding you again.

For a moment, you thought yourself as Icarus. For the sun was holding you tight once more, and you'd much rather burn to ash in its clutches than live another second without its warmth.

footnotes. so... i know i didn't bring up the soulmates thing at all but trust this is also a soulmate au LOL. the way they're so drawn to eo, more than anyone would be, and how forgiving they are towards eo moreso leans into how they're soulmates rather than just two people who are older and realized they were dumbass kids when they broke things off. i'd love to turn this into a mini series in the future when i have the time ! there's def more i could add to this au. ANYWAYS, i hope this was enjoyable even though it is NOT my best work and it's a bit rushed 💔💔

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© 2026 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[mikashisus]

miracle

synopsis. at seventeen, minho learned from jisung that he could hear the songs stuck in his soulmate's head. it sounded far-fetched, but it would explain why his brain lingered so long on a tune that could be considered easily forgettable by anyone else.

• non!idol lee minho x gn!reader. 2.3k. ( contents : fluff, soulmate au, a tiny bit of minsung if u squint, tiny bit of chan x reader if u squint, language barrier but they don't gaf )

• notes. thank u so much to @thepoeticpurplepotato for commissioning me !! 🤍🤍 even though it feels a bit rushed, i hope i was able to deliver :3 and happy bday lino !!! our favorite cat hehe 🐈‍⬛🎉 p.s: the song the mc mentions is "miracle" by paramore !

There's been a song stuck in his head since he was five.

Short, sweet, and fast-paced. A small hum with no lyrics.

When his mother first caught him tapping out the beat on his desk, she placed a hand on his shoulder, startling him out of his humming daze. "That's a pretty tune. Where'd you hear it?"

He shrugged then, because he didn't know where he heard it. One day, it just appeared in his mind. Maybe it had been on the radio when his mother took him to school, or maybe he'd heard it in a commericial on TV. Perhaps one of his friends or classmates had been humming it and he took such a liking to it that his brain stored it away, carving a place for it in the back of his mind.

It stuck with him, clinging to him like paint on one of his white t-shirts he ruined during an art class. No matter how hard his mother scrubbed to get the stain out, it lingered on the fabric. Faded, but still there. It was obvious there had been an attempt to remove it, but it was stubborn. As was the song forever stuck in his head.

It lingered, even when he attempted to rid himself of it. He'd blast music in his ears, hum other tunes to drown it out, yet it always returned.

At age thirteen, he assumed he was going mad. The song— a persistent thing that still haunted him like his late grandfather —had become more than just a small hum. It was still short, still sweet, still fast-paced, but now adorned with lyrics. He seemed to memorize them before he even realized what the meaning behind them was.

He still tapped his pencil on an empty homework sheet, still hummed the tune his mother came to love after hearing it so often, yet now there were lyrics to accompany it that fell from his lips.

It wasn't until he was seventeen that he realized the reason his mind had been plagued with that song.

He was seventeen when he met Han Jisung, a relatively quiet yet rebellious boy who he easily clung to in less than a month of meeting him.

"Did you meet your soulmate yet?" Jisung asked once.

Minho blinked. "Soulmate? You believe in those?"

At seventeen, Minho learned from Jisung that he could hear the songs stuck in his soulmate's head. It sounded far-fetched, but it would explain why his brain lingered so long on a tune that could be considered easily forgettable by anyone else.

Jisung shrugged and offered him a snack. "I don't really believe in 'fate', but the thought is nice, you know? That there's someone out there made for you. It's comforting, I guess."

Minho stared at him for a while, mulling over the words in his head. He hummed softly. Yeah, he could agree. The thought was nice…

The only difference between him and Jisung had been that the former believed in fate, and the latter did not. Minho liked the idea of fate. He liked the idea of being connected to someone in a way that transcended human comprehension. Originally, the amount of time he spent with Jisung led him to believe maybe Jisung had been his soulmate. After all, their quick connection was unique in its own way.

Jisung understood him in ways he didn't realize someone could. He understood Jisung in the same way. That was enough. Fate had bound them, as far as he was concerned.

He was twenty when he met Chan. Chan was from Australia, a place Minho had never been to before. He was bright, outgoing, talkative, and friendly. He was the kind of person anyone could get along with; The kind of person everyone liked. He loved music, and apparently, he was a producer for one of his childhood friends. He had come back to South Korea when he was fifteen, and it'd been a while since he'd returned to Australia.

The first time he informed Minho he would be returning back home for a few weeks, he asked if both him and Jisung wanted to accompany him. "You'd love it there!" He said with a smile as bright as the sun and entirely convincing, "And you could meet my family and my friends! One of them is in a band, and they're having their first gig the night after I land!"

The offer was tempting. After all, he'd never been to Australia, and exploring the country and learning its culture sounded like something he'd enjoy. The only problem was his English.

"That won't be a problem," Chan quickly assured him with a firm grip on his shoulder. "You don't need to understand a language in order to appreciate the things around you."

He was right. So, Minho agreed.

When they landed in Australia, the first thing Minho noticed was the heat. It was unbearable, all-encompassing, and made his skin feel as if it would melt right off his bones. Jisung, despite his many complaints about the weather, dragged them out of their lodging and into the bustling streets of Sydney. Just as Chan said, he didn't need to worry about the language barrier. All he could do was enjoy the sights and sounds around him.

Jisung knew English, anyway. If he needed a translator, Jisung was right there. In the end, he didn't need to rely on Jisung's broken English to order food from a restaurant or buy produce from a market. His limited knowledge was enough, and the locals were kind enough to help him out when he stuttered.

The day after they arrived in Sydney, he attended your band's first ever gig.

Chan updated both him and Jisung on everything they needed to know: You were one of his childhood friends, you've been playing a multitude of instruments since you were young, your voice had the right amount of rasp for punk rock, you started your band in your freshman year of high school, and your father had been in a band once too.

So had your stepdad, whose Harley-Davidson was parked right in the middle of the driveway of your small suburban house. The man himself was tall and stocky, his voice gruff and deep from years of smoking, and his long, grayed hair pulled back in a low ponytail. A beer occupied one hand, and he used the other to pat Chan on the back roughly.

"These are my friends from Korea," Chan introduced, his accent still thick as if he had never left Australia, "This is Jisung, and that's Minho."

Minho bowed respectfully, and Jisung smiled politely. Chan effortlessly switched back to Korean. "Guys, this is Dave, he's like my second father, and my friend's stepdad."

"Nice to meet you," Jisung said in English.

The man turned to Jisung then, shaking his hand, and Minho braced himself for a handshake too. He stumbled as he was jostled around, surprised by the sheer amount of force the man used. His hands were calloused from years of playing guitar and fixing up bikes in a local mechanic shop. He was carefree in a way that shouted he had no kids of his own, and barely any experience in raising one.

"No need for formalities, kids! Come on in." He waved them off and entered the dimly lit dingy garage. "That one's mine. Unfortunately." He joked and pointed a calloused finger at you. You were busy tuning your guitar, the pick sitting in between your teeth.

"That's (Name)." Chan quipped before joining your side, engulfing you in a bear hug and dragging you away from the makeshift stage to meet his friends.

The four of you exchanged greetings, and when you shook Minho's hand, your eyes lingered on each other for a few seconds longer than necessary. There were no sparks when you shook his hand. There was no instant connection like in those trashy romcoms Minho often watched just to make fun of the acting. It was a sort of familiarity that came with years of knowing someone; As if you were meeting again for the first time after years spent apart from each other.

"I hope you guys enjoy the show!" You smiled, directing your words at Minho before you retreated to the stage.

Minho wasn't prepared for what he would hear. As the show started and the first song erupted in the confined space, his mouth ran dry and his stomach dropped. It was the song he once believed had driven him crazy. It was the one that had once been just a tune in his youth, and plagued his mind for fifteen years.

His heart lurched with familiarity, and he found himself humming along, muttering the words under his breath as he did. He assumed you didn't notice, too focused on your performance to bat an eye at him. However, when he opened his eyes after losing himself in the music, he met your confused gaze. A flicker of recognition flashed in your eyes, quickly replaced with masked panic. Your voice faltered a little as you leaned into the mic before stabilizing as you pushed down your nerves and continued like nothing was wrong.

He thought back to the conversation he had with Jisung a few years prior— the one where he learned that soulmates can hear when a song is stuck in the other's head. He doubted his bond with Jisung now. Maybe the wide-eyed boy next to him wasn't his soulmate after all.

The realization shook him to his core as he tried to process his own thoughts. The more the set went on, the more he realized every song you played was one that had been stuck in his head since he was a kid. Every time a song had seemingly come out of nowhere with no origin to where he had heard it, it had actually been you. It was your song, time and time again.

The show ended, and with quick movements, you made your way over to Chan. He hugged you tightly, and the two of you spent a few minutes talking with the occasional quip from Jisung. You were silent for a moment after exchanging an inside joke with Chan, your eyes darting over and meeting Minho's curious gaze. You excused yourself from Chan, who noticed the tension in your shoulders and pulled Jisung away to chat with your bandmates.

You offered a polite smile to Minho. "Sorry, I know we just met and stuff, but um… Can I talk to you?"

His brain only processed a few of those words, but he understood nonetheless. He nodded, following you out of the garage and into the driveway. Compared to the hot, lingering humidity in the garage, it was cooler out here. You pulled a cigarette from one pocket and your lighter from the other.

The click of the lighter drew his attention, and he watched the flame sizzle the end of your cigarette before it flickered out and the lighter made its way back into a pocket of your jeans. You glanced at him, raising a brow as you offered him the cigarette. "Wanna smoke?"

He shook his head shyly, declining your offer. "No… No th-thanks." The words were stuttered out, his mouth struggling to get around the hard 'th' sound, yet you understood.

You began humming, and he followed once he recognized the tune. You spoke after a moment. "It's called 'Miracle'." You told him softly, and he repeated the word in his head over and over. "I started writing it when I was a kid. Didn't realize I'd stick with it this long, but… when you have someone who keeps reminding you it exists, then you can't really let it go, can you?"

There was a prominent language barrier; One you both couldn't ignore, but also didn't seem to care about in this moment. He'd heard Chan speak English enough to pick up bits and pieces, and Jisung's broken version of it helped to understand part of what you said, too.

He was silent for a while. Thinking. You didn't push. He appreciated that.

"I like it," he said finally, his voice small. "You my— You are my soulmate…?"

You smiled. "I think so… I never really believed in that stuff until my late mother told me on her deathbed that my stepdad was hers. It made sense."

You didn't elaborate on what exactly it was that made sense, but it was clear it was a touchy subject.

He frowned. "I'm sorry. For your loss."

With a shrug, you sighed. "It happened a long time ago, so it's fine. She wasn't really the best person, anyways, y'know?" You took a long drag of your cigarette, the smoke filtering up into the night sky. He watched it until it evaporated.

"How long?"

You hummed, before you nodded in realization. "I've been making music since I was six. My bio dad used to be in a rock band, too, so… I guess that's where it all came from. Chris has been producing for me since we were in high school."

"But… First show?" He gestured to the garage. "Chan say your first show."

"Yeah, but I have a lot of music I've posted online already. This was the first time I actually got to perform it live, even though it's in my dingy ass garage."

He snorted out a small laugh. You smiled. "When are you going back to Korea?"

"Week after next."

"That's too soon," you pouted, "you should stay longer. We can hangout more."

"I not good in English."

You shrugged. "So what? You don't need that to understand music. Besides, I don't mind helping you."

He shrugged weakly. You put out your cigarette on the pavement and stomped the butt under your boot. "I'll ask Chris. You can stay with me. I can teach you more English, and you can see my songwriting up close. How about it?"

He smiled shyly. That sounded nice. He nodded hesitantly. "Okay. I stay. For you."

Your bright smile extinguished all his doubts. You were his soulmate.

© 2025 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[mikashisus]

quiet comfort

synopsis. felix accompanies you to your routine check-up with your primary care doctor, serving as a quiet comfort while you battle with your anxiety and fear of needles.

• lee felix x gn!reader. 1.4k ( contents : a bit of angst (mc has anxiety), highly implied that mc deals with chronic pain and has a lot of health problems, needles, fluff, established relationship )

• notes. okay so.. this idea came about after the most recent skz code when he did not bat an eye at the needles and even chatted with the nurse. ive always HATED needles, like i had to be HELD DOWN while getting bloodwork as a kid bc i wouldn’t let them do their job 😭😭 and go figure, i got shots recently so here’s the product of my fear + imagining felix comforting a partner who has a fear of needles

Your hands are sweaty as you nervously fiddle with them in front of you. The receptionist signs you in and you thank her before taking a seat on one of the stiff waiting room chairs.

A routine check-up; that's what this is. Just a simple check-up with your primary care doctor that only happens once every six weeks— or sooner, if you need it. You have nothing to worry about. Still, the anxiety grips you like a vice.

You keep checking your phone, busying yourself with going through random apps while you wait to be called back. Your boyfriend of five months, Felix, sits next to you, calm as ever and watching as your knee bounces up and down.

He reaches over and takes one of your hands into his, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with his thumb. "Love, you'll be okay," he whispers, "do you want me to go back with you?"

You nod, giving his hand a tight squeeze. He's aware of your severe anxiety. He knows you hate appointments and work yourself into a panic because of them. "It's normal," he told you once when you rambled to him about it, "I get nervous too."

He was right, and you know it because you've accompanied him to his routine back check-ups plenty of times before. Yet, you can't help but feel as though he doesn't quite get it.

It's normal for people to be nervous, you know that. However, for someone like you, who can barely stand going outside due to your anxiety, it's an entirely different ballgame.

Your brain is wired differently than his; trained to make you think the doctor's office is a dangerous place. That people you don't know are constantly judging you— what you wear, your appearance, how you act. Every single moment of your life is controlled by your anxiety.

"Stop that, love," Felix tugs you out of your stupor, "I can hear you thinking."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your heartbeat. "Sorry. I'm just really nervous." A small laugh escapes you as you pull your hand away from his, suddenly needing some space. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and let out a lengthy exhale.

"Don't be sorry. Your feelings are valid."

His words sooth you a little. He reaches out, wanting to touch you, but you shake your head. Not right now. He smiles reassuringly, ever the understanding partner.

Your name is called a moment later and you stand hastily, your bag jingling with all the keychains you have fastened to the straps. "Can my boyfriend come back with me?" You ask the nurse, and they nod.

They lead you through the hall and into a small room, telling you to sit on the examination table. Felix holds your bag and your phone, watching as you give your weight and height to the nurse before sitting down on the loud, crinkly paper.

Check in runs smoothly. Name, date of birth, medications, "I'm just gonna get your heart rate and blood pressure real quick."

You nod, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. You hate this part. Your anxiety always makes both your heart rate and blood pressure spike abnormally high, even with the deep breaths you take to try and calm yourself down.

Your finger pulses as your heart rate is taken. The nurse slips your arm out of your jacket and wraps the band around your upper arm. You take another deep breath. Your heart rabbits as the machine clenches your arm tightly.

You look to Felix, who smiles as you meet his gaze, mouthing "you're doing so well." You can't help the smile that pulls at your lips in response.

"Hm, heart rate's a bit high," the nurse comments, letting go of your finger. "Are you nervous?"

"I don't like appointments..." you trail off, laughing awkwardly. She smiles in understanding and asks you a few more questions before leaving the room, claiming your doctor will be in soon.

You let out a long breath you were holding and slump in on yourself. "I hate this."

"I know, love." Felix strokes your knee. "They're here to help you."

"I know that, I just hate doing this."

You hate appointments. You hate how frequently you find yourself in sterile rooms that smell of antiseptic with paintings of flowers lining the walls. You hate that there's always a new problem with your body every month. You hate being unwell. You hate having chronic pains.

His eyes soften. He knows that feeling all too well. "I know. It never gets better."

You sit in silence for a few more seconds before you become antsy and reach for your phone. You scroll through the tiktoks he sent you the night before, giggling at the cat ones and trying and failing to hold back a full-body laugh at one with a caption that says "yes the meds are working great thank you."

He smiles at you, his expression fond as he watches you silently. You talk a little, asking about his upcoming brand deals, where he will have to fly out to next, how the other boys are doing, his family.

Finally, your doctor knocks on the door and enters, smiling brightly at you and introducing herself to Felix, who immediately becomes his usual chatterbox self. She looks over your medical history, does the same check up the nurse had done, and asks about your medications and how they're working.

To no surprise, your anxiety medication needs to be increased a dose, and so does your migraine medication. She listens intently as you explain how you're feeling, and the other concerns you have about your body. The appointment goes smoothly, finishing up quick due to the list of concerns you wrote down in your notes app this morning and the few questions Felix has.

She runs through your dosage increases, makes sure the pharmacy in the system is correct, says to call her if anything is out of the ordinary, and then stops short.

"Oh! Looks like you're due for a few shots today."

Your stomach drops. You say nothing as she hums and clicks a few things on the computer in front of her. Your hands, which had begun to stop sweating minutes ago, immediately begin sweating once more.

"It'll be okay," Felix tells you, taking your hand in his. "It'll be over and done before you know it."

"I'm sorry, I know you don't like needles." Your doctor says, washing her hands in the sink in the corner and turning to you. "Everything should be on its way, let me know if anything changes. We'll have to keep you for a few minutes after your shots to make sure there aren't any side effects. After that, you're good to go! I'll see you back in six weeks!"

"Thank you." Your tongue is heavy in your mouth as you speak, swallowing around the lump in your throat as she smiles and promptly leaves.

Felix stands beside you as you both wait for the nurse to come back in and give you your due shots. Two in one arm and one in the other arm, she informs.

"Distract me. Please." You turn to Felix immediately, unable to even look in the direction of the needle. He grips your hand tightly, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

"So, get this," he starts, and you know right off the bat this'll be a good story. You feel a slight prick as the needle breaks skin. "Me and the guys go for a check-up. Someone says doing push-ups makes you taller, which Changbin-hyung believes because we're all idiots."

You snort. The nurse bandages your arm and maneuvers around to the other one. Felix moves out of her way and goes to your other side, taking hold of your hand again and making sure your eyes are focused solely on him.

"Obviously, it doesn't work. Chan-hyung suggests stretching out your back and try that way, and Changbin-hyung lays on the ground. Hannie grabs his legs and someone's grabbing his arms and swinging him side to side. Chan-hyung reaches over and tries to pull the poor guy's head off!"

You burst out laughing, careful not to jostle your arm too much, and picture the scene in your head. You can hear Changbin's frightened scream, too. Felix beams at your reaction, his expression fond.

The nurse wraps up quickly, smiling at you both and asking you to wait a few minutes before you leave just in case there's any side effects. There's a slight pain in both arms and you wince.

Felix places a kiss to your temple. "I know, love. You did so well."

You lean against him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Of course. I'll always be here for you." And he means it.

comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated! 🤍 click here to sign up for my permanent taglist!

taglist. @aliensstolemyheart @danielle143 @hey-itsem

© 2026 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[mikashisus]

my super graphic ultra modern girl

synopsis. felix is more than a bit surprised after stumbling upon his girlfriend’s stan account dedicated to him, and even more shocked to find out what it is they post.

• lee felix x f!reader. ( contents : fluff, comedy, smau, mdni, nsfw (sex jokes + comments), dark humor, gay jokes (mc is implied bi and also uses she/they), masc and fem terms used for felix )

• notes. guys pls dont take any of the jokes seriously. esp the lesbian ones. i’m a lesbian so i make them often LOL. this is just for fun and if u genuinely get upset over the gay jokes then maybe u gotta do some self reflecting. anyw inspired by @pvppymin’s series! all credit for the idea goes to her! i asked her beforehand if i could make a felix version and she oh so kindly gave me the green light !! 🤍 enjoy :3

part two

footnotes. TOOK ME LIKE 8 HOURS TO REALIZE I GOT THE COLORS OF MY OWN FLAG WRONG I CANT FUCKING BREATHE 😭😭 u’d think i’d know em since i have a flag ON MY WALL. i left it in cause it’s funny even though im embarrassed for getting my own flag wrong LMAO. anyw u can tell where i fixed it 😭 left my typos in too cause they’re crazy abysmal and it’s funny

taglist. @aliensstolemyheart @danielle143 @hey-itsem — click here to sign up for my permanent taglist!

© 2026 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[mikashisus]

THOUGHT: NUKE POSSUM SPRINGS

synopsis. the seasons change, and with it, so do we. but this small town at the edge of the world stays trapped in time, stagnant, holding the memories of those who loved, lost, and started anew. OR a saga of coming to terms with the past, present, and future. written after finally accepting some things just don't work out.

content warnings. bxb, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional baggage, unresolved tension, anxiety attacks, mentions of financial instability, implied character death + major character death later on, grief and mourning, mentions of suicide and self harm, investigations, alcohol use, smoking, unhealthy coping mechanisms — more added later if needed.

notes. welcome to the masterlist for my skz “night in the woods” au ! this started in nov 2025 as a way for me to cope with my own experiences, and has spiraled into a full series bc i wanted to expand more on felix’s disappearance as well as how innie fit into the story.

this series is for those who feel as though they're a failure to everyone around them, and to those coping with anything— whether it be the death of a loved one, struggling through school/with finances, stuck in a limbo, or a traumatic experience.

we can't change the past or the future, so hold onto things that matter, even when it feels like nothing will get better. that said, please handle my love letter to myself with care, and remember it's okay to give yourself a little grace. and maybe do some soul-searching if you're lost.

PART 1. EVERYTHING FEELS BAD

jisung centric ╱ in which college dropout han jisung returns to his rust belt hometown after two years, sporting enough self pity and guilt to last him a lifetime, and realizing nothing in this town has changed.

PART 2. AT THE END OF EVERYTHING, HOLD ONTO ANYTHING

felix centric ╱ two summers, one autumn, a handful of printed out missing person posters, and a boy who became a mystery before the world truly got to know him. OR… the story of felix yongbok lee (19) of possum springs.

PART 3. ONE DAY, THREE AUTUMS

seungmin centric ╱ two years later, felix’s body is found at the bottom of the steep riverbank outside the woods next to a hiking trail that hasn't been used in thirty years. the authorities officially announce him dead. half of seungmin’s soul dies that day too. OR… the love story between a boy who loved and lost, and a boy who disappeared in the wind.

PART 4. R.I.P GRANDAD

jisung centric ╱ tba.

PART 5. THOUGHT: THIS PLACE IS FALLING APART

minho centric ╱ tba.

PART 6. I BELIEVE IN A UNIVERSE THAT DOESN’T CARE, AND PEOPLE WHO DO

hyunjin centric ╱ tba.

© 2026 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.