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flowersforthemachines · 3 days ago
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Some facts about Emmrich (and also the Necropolis, Nevarra and other related things) gathered from the banters
I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).
Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)
Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.
Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later
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About Emmrich:
Family and early life:
“Volkarin” is a commoner’s name. Emmrich’s father was a butcher, and his mother was a cook 
When Emmrich was around 5 years old, his neighbours had a pig named Lucy. He was very fond of her, and she’d always let him hug her around his neck
Emmrich grew up poor (clocked by Neve based on the way he always saves his candle stubs, shows up first for meals and never leaves food on his plate) 
Emmrich grew up hearing that all dragons were so hostile they had to be slain and is surprised that Taash has found ways to deal with them peacefully 
General:
The gold Emmrich’ wears is called “grave-dowry” (or “grave gold”). It’s a Nevarran custom to wear precious objects one would like to take to their grave
Emmrich’s bracelet (not specified which one) was gifted to him on the day he became a full Watcher. The ring with a large stone was the last gift from his father. The skull pin doesn’t have a story, he just likes it
Emmrich isn’t fond of the Nevarran nobility
Emmrich’s shaving cream smells like potash (at least to Taash)
Emmrich uses moss perfume with flowers
Decades ago, Emmrich used to see an Orlesian woman who was an art appraiser
If Emmrich wasn’t a watcher, he would like to be a botanist
Emmrich displays some interest in Ferelden, mentioning that many of its heroes greatly shaped the history. Harding says that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about her homeland
Emmrich doesn't like beer because it's bitter
Emmrich prefers tea (he mentions purchasing a Brynnlaw curled-leaf blend in Nevarra), but he can also drink coffee 
Emmrich doesn’t eat meat (seafood and insects included), but he indulges in cheese. It seems to be a Watcher thing - he says that each Watcher must decide what they will and won't take a life for, and meat crosses that line for him
Emmrich likes melons, mushrooms and pineapples. He also enjoyed a plate of fried leeks and potatoes at Halos’s stand in Minrathous
Emmrich always thought he’d get married one day
After a Minrathous merchant sells Emmrich fake charms, he causes him to see skeletal faces on the windows and hear spirits whispering that false goods endanger lives as punishment. Emmrich agrees to stop once Neve tells him that she can convince the merchant to get back to selling linen if the visions cease
On magic and studies:
Some deaths may leave emotional imprints so intense Emmrich may feel them decades later 
Emmrich thinks the magic of old Elven artefacts is “rigid” 
Emmrich isn’t very good at figuring out Elven artefacts (by his own admission)
Emmrich’s first published work was A Monograph on the Vagaries of Determining a Body's Time of Death
Emmrich is roughly familiar with the dragon anatomy
Emmrich knows a lot about how bodies work (muscle-wise etc.) from the time he performed autopsies 
Watchers study the death practices of other cultures. Emmrich knew about Eb-ketarra and the Rivaini traditions even before Taash performs them at the end of their questline
On life in the Necropolis: 
When Emmrich fell for another boy during his youth, he showed him a corpse he was allowed to practice dissection on. The date was ruined by a passing wisp possessing the body and causing it to sit up and ruin the mood 
Emmrich tutored Dorian during his term in the Necropolis (“Tremendous potential, but appallingly flippant towards the dead”)
Emmrich and other watchers live in the Necropolis (Emmrich has a flat there)
On life at the Lighthouse:
It took 8 skeletons half a day to bring that slab of marble into Emmrich’s room
He didn’t bring his entire collection of books to the Lighthouse (there are more)
Emmrich talks to skulls in his room 
Lighthouse kitchen reminds Emmrich of the mortuary
Relationships with companions:
Emmrich offers to introduce Bellara to Audric, the Necropolis librarian (who appeared in Tevinter Nights’ Down Among the Dead Men)
Emmrich calls the Archive spirit a work of art  
Emmrich and Davrin disagree on parenting methods. Emmrich thinks Davrin should better discipline Assan and teach him boundaries, while Davrin suggest Emmrich should let Manfred learn more on his own (e.g. let him fall so he learns how to get up) 
Emmrich turns to Neve when he needs help acquiring some reagents he can't get his hands through normal ones, and she agrees to help him out (smuggling is involved)
Emmrich isn’t too thrilled about Neve taking over the Threads, questioning of what’s going to become with the organisation and the future and thinking it may become corrupt (sort of mirroring the way Neve is apprehensive about his lichdom) 
Taash likes Emmrich’s lich helmet. They are not usually fond of skulls, but that helmet is fine because it’s on fire
Taash thinks that gemstones like amethyst or green opal would look good with the lich helmet
Emmrich doesn’t seem to like unrealistic books as he criticised Harding’s “Gore-Knight” novels for their incorrect interpretation of magic. He is worried about people misunderstanding magic and spirits
Emmrich calls himself Harding's 'de facto physician'
On Manfred: 
(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Manfred brings Neve tea by his own volition. Emmrich thinks it's because Manfred sensed she might need a friend
Manfred is as aware of his surroundings as most people (to a certain degree)
(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred learns to say Emmrich’s name 
(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred becomes much more talkative 
Manfred likes boiling tea because he is fascinated by steam
Emmrich suggests Manfred tries tending to plants in Harding's garden 
Manfred is curious about Spite and wanders into Lucanis’s room at night
Spite and Assan miss Manfred if he’s gone
On Lichdom:
Emmrich smells fine to Taash even after he becomes a lich 
Emmrich’s lich helmet burns with veilfire. He once tried using it in combat, but the flame ended up blinding him
Emmrich thinks Strife would no longer be interested in a relationship after he becomes a Lich. That doesn't prove to be true
Lich!Emmrich doesn't need to eat but still comes by the kitchen for company
The energy of Emmrich’s magic changed after he became a lich
Other liches call lich!Emmrich “Young Volkarin” 
Lich!Emmrich no longer has muscles, but when he tries out Taash’s pull-up routine, he can still feel something like “a spectral memory of flesh”, as if he had pulled a tendon
Emmrich starts seeing more books in the Lighthouse library after becoming a linch
About spirit, demons, and the Necropolis: 
There are spirits of Temperance and Diligence 
The Watchers avoid using the word “demon” because it creates bad expectations and can negatively influence spirits 
Some in the Mourn Watch suspected that elves originated from spirits, though it was just one of many theories, and not a particularly popular one
Chambers in the Necropolis can go missing (according to MW!Rook, they turn up, eventually)  
Even after the despair demon is banished from the Necropolis, the halls remain cold. However, the effects will abate with time
There are horses on display in the Necropolis
Watchers rarely get possessed thanks to the special wards of the Necropolis. Possessions also don’t happen as often because the necromancers already provide spirits with bodies, so they don't need to possess anyone by force
Bellara calls the background magic of Necropolis tidy and quiet
There something called “The Deep Necropolis” featuring sections like “The Unspoken Valley” and “The Charnel Bridge” (which has something called “nightmare fog”) that hosts all kinds of entities. Bellara is very excited to visit once the nightmare fog clears
Vorgoth ensures that the transgressions of those who use magical to cruel and abusive means will not be tolerated (whatever that means)
About Nevarra:
Many great Nevarran artefacts have been lost to time, including the Skull of Sabinar, the Key of Dead Dreamers, and the Crown of the Moon
There are strict rules about selling enchantments in Nevarra. You can’t sell anything without a licence and an inspection from the mage Circles
A Tevinter poem “Faustina's Song”, a romantic epic from the Steel Age, is very popular in Nevarra, and its quotes are used on ‘more than one’ epitaph in the Necropolis. Neve is surprised people even read it outside Tevinter 
Pineapples don’t grow in Nevarra
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solarhysm · 3 days ago
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"what’s your name again?" | JEON JUNGKOOK [FOLLOWERS POLL’s CHOICE]
one shot
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> summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.
> pairing: jungkook x reader
> genre: small smut, one shot (shorter than i thought tho)
> warnings: smut, protected sex!!, public quickie in the female restroom (i'm not good with warning)
> word count: 2.8k
*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!
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Jungkook never likes masked parties. But when Hoseok suggests going to one where everyone is in costumes, he reluctantly agrees. He has nothing better to do for New Year’s Eve anyway, and it seems better than drinking alone in his apartment. He sighs as someone bumps into him—that’s why he avoids crowded places.
Everyone wears costumes as if it’s Halloween. He’s not surprised to see most of the women in tight, short dresses. Jungkook considered dressing as a character from Squid Game but decided against it—there are already too many of them here.
Instead, he throws on his old Spider-Man costume from Halloween three years ago. It’s been gathering dust in his closet, but it saves him time and money. To account for the cold, he adds gray joggers and an old black sweatshirt. Tonight, he’s not Peter Parker but Miles Morales. He doubts anyone will notice the reference, though.
“Damn, I didn’t expect it to be this crowded,” Jimin says, handing beers to his friends.
Jungkook glances around and nods. It’s New Year’s Eve, so of course, people their age are out celebrating.
“It’s been a shitty year,” Taehyung groans, downing his beer in one gulp before heading to the bar for something stronger. His girlfriend dumped him last month, and he’s still obsessively checking her Instagram, where she flaunts her new boyfriend.
Jungkook shakes his head, amused. It was a rough year. His grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, none of his romantic flings went anywhere, and the company he worked for went bankrupt. Now, he’s living with his parents –again- and working a terrible job under an abusive boss. He sighs and takes a sip of his beer.
“At least we’re still standing,” Hoseok says, ever the optimist.
As the night goes on, the four friends drink steadily in their corner of the nightclub. Taehyung ends up crying on Hoseok’s shoulder, while Jungkook rolls his eyes.
“I don’t understand,” Taehyung whines. “I’m a good boyfriend! I used to bring her flowers all the time and give her all the attention she wants.”
“She’s a bitch. You’re a good guy,” Jungkook says, leaning closer so Taehyung can hear him over the music. “Stop wasting your tears on someone like her.”
“Maybe I’m bad in bed?”
“Stop it,” Jimin groans, grabbing Taehyung’s shoulder. “With your third leg, it’s definitely not about sex. Some women are just terrible people. Go find someone new tonight.”
“What?” Taehyung sniffles, while Jungkook silently gestures for Jimin to stop talking.
“Yeah, Tae,” Hoseok chimes in. “Find a girl, have some fun, and forget about her.”
Jungkook buries his face in his hands. Taehyung is too drunk for this advice. He’s not a one-night-stand type of guy and will probably end up vomiting on whoever he approaches.
“I need a smoke,” Jungkook mutters, getting up and wiping his hands on his joggers. He weaves through the crowd toward the exit, hating how packed the nightclub is.
“I’m sorry!” a voice gasps as their bodies collide. Jungkook instinctively grabs the stranger’s arm to steady them. Both of them are clearly tipsy, but they look more unsteady than he does.
His gaze falls on the person in front of him—his very own Gwen Stacy. The mask hides all of their face, but the costume piques his interest immediately.
“It’s my fault,” You begin. “I didn’t—” You stop mid-sentence when you look up at him. “Oh, Miles Morales!” You giggle, recognizing his costume. And your laugh makes him smile.
“Hi, Gwen,” Jungkook smirks, the alcohol making him bolder.
“Hi,” you reply as you both step outside into the chilly air. It’s a welcome relief from the stifling crowd inside. Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lighter.
“I like your costume,” he says, noticing you scanning the crowd inside, probably looking for your friends.
You remove your mask and smile. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to be this attractive—especially the kind of attractive he’s drawn to.
“Thanks. I like yours, even if it’s a little inaccurate,” you tease, making him chuckle.
You pull out your own cigarette, accepting his lighter with a nod of thanks.
“It’s too cold to be Spider-Man.”
“Well, not Tom Holland’s Spider-Man,” you quip, freeing your hair from the costume.
Jungkook’s eyes linger on you briefly before smirking. “Marvel fan?” he asks.
“Hm, you?”
“Hm.”
You’re pretty and a Marvel fan? Jungkook looks up at the dark sky, silently thanking the universe for this coincidence. Before he can come up with something to say, you speak again.
“I almost dressed as Wednesday Addams, but it’s way too cold for that,” you explain, and he nods.
“Wednesday was my first choice, too,” Jungkook jokes, making you laugh.
“I’m Y/N,” you say.
“Jungkook,” he replies.
“Did you come alone, Spiderman?” you ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.
“I came with some friends.”
“Yeah, me too. It was either this or sleeping early. I figured it’d be more fun to get drunk,” you say, tossing the bud of your cigarette. Jungkook licks his lips with a smile. He guesses you’re a yapper, which is a good thing because he’s not drunk enough to talk freely without embarrassment. “Do you drink tequila shots, Spiderman?”
“Are you offering?” he teases, and you nod. “Alright.”
Even though he asks, once you’re at the bar ordering a round of six tequila shots, Jungkook is the one handing over his credit card to the bartender. You scold him, insisting you’ll pay for the next round. He’s just happy that you’re thinking about continuing the night with him, though he’s a little apprehensive about drinking more.
“Alright, on three,” you say with a smile, counting down before you both toss back the first shot and bite into a lemon. “Where are your friends?”
“Somewhere in the club,” Jungkook replies, his head nodding to the rhythm of the music.
You grab his hand and guide him to the dancefloor. Jungkook marvels at how easygoing you are. Most girls he meets play hard to get, but you’re different—just here, vibing with everyone around you. His smile widens as he watches you mimicking the dance steps of a guy dressed as a banana.
You burst into laughter when you mess up the choreography, and the banana-guy spins you back toward Jungkook, probably assuming the two of you came together. You stumble into his arms, your rosy cheeks and bright giggles captivating him even though he can barely hear it over the music.
After the fourth shot, Jungkook has to stop, reaching his limit. He isn’t used to drinking this much, especially tequila. But he chuckles, watching as you confidently take down two more. When you turn to him, he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Already?” you tease, giggling, and he rolls his eyes, amused. You finish the remaining shots by yourself, and he’s genuinely impressed. How can someone as small as you handle so much alcohol?
Jungkook blinks a few times, shaking his head. He’s almost certain you’re going to regret this if you keep bouncing around to the music like that.
“Are you drunk?” you ask, leaning closer, and he nods, patting his chest to settle the burn in his throat.
He grabs a bottle of water he ordered, takes a sip, and offers it to you. But you shake your head, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a strange responsibility to make sure you’re okay. You’ve only just met, but he’s already trying to sober you up a bit—anything to avoid you ending the night sick.
“Do you drink often?” Jungkook asks, grimacing as he takes another sip of water. He’s already done with tequila—probably for life.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you chuckle, your tone playful as you make him smile and shrug.
“Just that you definitely know how to hold your liquor.”
“I just needed to get drunk and forget this year,” you admit, tossing your hair over your shoulder.
“Do you want me to walk you to your friends?” Jungkook offers, his voice laced with concern.
“Are you tired of me, Spider-Man?” you joke, swaying slightly as you both half-dance to the pulsing music.
“W-What? No!” Jungkook stammers, looking adorably flustered, and you laugh at his reaction.
“I’m kidding,” you say, nudging his shoulder with a grin.
“Can… I have your number? Or maybe your social media?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear to make himself heard over the music. You pull back to meet his gaze, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance. Both of you have hooded eyes, softened by the alcohol and dim lights.
Jungkook feels a rush of admiration for your boldness. You don’t care about the people around you or their opinions. His hand hesitates before resting on the small of your back. You tilt your head, your nose brushing his as your lips hover dangerously close.
“Do you want to have fun?” you murmur, your mouth brushing his ear, the music muffling everything else.
“What kind of fun?” he asks, his breath caressing your cheek. He feels himself leaning into the moment, emboldened by your energy. Why not? There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting with a stranger on New Year’s Eve.
You smirk slowly, your hand slipping into his to guide him off the dancefloor. Jungkook frowns slightly in confusion when you lead him into the women’s restroom. Before he can ask why, you cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that sends his heart racing.
He finds it thrilling—kissing someone he just met, in a place he’d never expect. It’s not the kind of fun he was imagining, but he’s definitely not complaining. You guide him blindly into one of the stalls, closing the door behind you as he presses you against it.
“What if someone catches us?” he whispers, his lips trailing along your jaw.
“We can stop if you want,” you reply, threading your fingers into his hair before pulling him into another heated kiss.
“No,” he says honestly, making you smile. “But we’re drunk.”
“Can’t get hard when you’re drunk?” you tease, your lips brushing the column of his neck. Jungkook chuckles darkly, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his joggers. Your eyes light up as you feel his growing arousal beneath the fabric.
Jungkook’s breath hitches as your hand starts to stroke him above his jogger. His mind races—this is new for him. He’s had his share of casual flings, but never with a stranger and never in public. Surprisingly, the thrill of possibly being caught makes the moment even more exhilarating.
He wonders if you’ve done this before—you seem so at ease. But before he can ask, your hand slides under the waistband of his joggers, palming his growing bulge. His eyes close almost instantly, a soft groan escaping him as your touch sends heat coursing through his body. His own hands find your backside, squeezing gently, grounding himself in the moment.
“Do you want to fuck me?” you whisper, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin of his neck.
“What—I—right now?” he stammers, wide-eyed, and you nod. Pressing your back against the door, you reach behind to unzip the bottom of your costume, your movements deliberate and teasing. Jungkook’s gaze remains locked on you, his mind racing.
His eyes widen further as he begins patting the pockets of his joggers in a frantic search for his wallet. He knows there’s a condom in there—he’s certain he hasn’t used it. A chance like this? No way he’s letting it slip by. He’s just a guy, after all, and if a beautiful woman wants him, Jungkook isn’t about to say no.
“What are you doing?” you ask, laughing as his wallet slips from his fumbling hands. He scrambles to catch it, earning another amused giggle from you.
When he finally retrieves the little plastic wrapper, he holds it up proudly. You smirk, pulling him into a heated kiss while he helps you peel off the bottom half of your costume. The black panties underneath match the dark tights perfectly, a sight that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. His hands twitch at his sides, trying to maintain control.
“I’ve never done this before,” he admits softly, hiking your leg up to wrap around his waist, pressing you against him.
“Yeah, me neither,” you reply with a playful giggle, one hand gripping his shoulder for balance while the other threads through his messy hair. “New year, new experiences, right?”
“You’re really something else,” he chuckles, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. His eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, and his hand slides between your thighs, fingertips brushing against you through the thin fabric of your panties.
“Fuck,” you whisper, your head falling back against the door as your hips instinctively press into his touch. Your reaction sends a shiver down his spine; he swears he’s never heard anyone curse so beautifully.
Jungkook frees himself from his boxers, giving his cock a few slow strokes while watching your every reaction. His gaze flickers between your face and the way your body trembles under his hand. When he pushes your panties aside, he hesitates momentarily to open the condom.
“Tell me to stop,” he says suddenly, his voice wavering as he tries to cling to the last shred of his rationality.
“Don’t you dare,” you reply with a grin, tugging at his boxers to free him completely. He groans, any semblance of self-control slipping away as he feels your hand stroke him again, this time skin-on-skin.
The muffled music from the club outside only adds to the surrealness of the moment. Every so often, someone walks into the restroom, and Jungkook tenses, half-expecting a knock on the door. But the thrill of being caught only seems to heighten his excitement. When you grab his face to focus him on you, your lips brushing against his, he realizes he’s long past the point of no return.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he rolls the condom over his length. His other hand pushes his joggers just low enough to give him room to move. “Are you sure?” he asks one last time, his voice trembling with need.
“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, guiding him to your entrance. His fingers dig into your hips as he presses forward slowly, the stretch eliciting soft gasps from both of you. He stills for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he adjusts to the overwhelming sensation.
“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.
“Please, move,” you urge him in a whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips pull back before snapping forward, setting a steady rhythm that has you biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.
Jungkook’s movements grow more erratic as he loses himself in the sensation of you. The cramped space of the stall, the muffled music, and the ever-present risk of being caught only add to the intensity. His hands roam your body, gripping your thighs and waist as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency.
“You feel so good,” he groans, his voice a low rumble in your ear.
“Faster,” you gasp, your hands sliding down to grab his ass and urge him deeper. He obliges, his pace quickening until the sound of your bodies colliding fills the small space. “Fuck –“
You bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, and he curses under his breath, the combination of your teeth and the tight grip of your walls pushing him closer to the edge.
“I’m close,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. His thrusts grow rougher, the door rattling slightly with each movement.
“Me too,” you manage to reply, your voice shaky as the tension in your body builds. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send you spiraling over the edge. Your walls tighten around him as you climax, your muffled cries vibrating against his skin.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his hips stuttering as he follows you, spilling into the condom with a final deep thrust. He collapses against you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. The countdown outside ends in cheers and shouts of celebration, but neither of you notices, still lost in the aftershocks of your high.
For a moment, the two of you stay like that, tangled together in the aftermath. Then Jungkook pulls back slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sounds of celebration seep back in as you both begin to steady your breathing.
“That was…” he trails off, unable to find the right words. “Hot.”
You smirk, cupping his face to leave a lingering kiss on his swollen lips.
“Happy New Year,” you whisper, your voice soft but playful.
“Happy New Year,” he replies, his hand snaking behind your neck to pull you into another kiss, this one just as passionate as the last. Jungkook knows he has to go back to his friends soon.
“What’s your name again?” you laugh, your breath mingling with his as he chuckles.
“Jungkook. Yours?”
“Y/N.”
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hiiii!! first of all, happy new year to you all. may 2025 be a better year for you. secondly, i know, I KNOW, i'm a little late with the one shot i promised, i'm sorry! i was too busy those last few days. to be honest, the one shot didn't result as i was hoping for. I had a few ideas about it and it doesn't look like... what i expected. but i promise you a jk one shot for the new year so here it is. i'll do better next time, i swear!! but i do hope that you enjoyed reading it <3 I'll see you around, and on that, i'm going back to write the DOU chapter 6 now that i have free time!! luv y’all — Riza
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power-handmaiden · 1 day ago
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Chuck Tingle interview
OK, here is the FINAL 2024 Tingles My Butt post, which I've been pretty hyped for. I still kind of can't believe this. While I was figuring out how I'd move on from 2024, @drchucktingle generously offered to answer some questions of mine to commemorate the end of my tingler project! Here they are!
-Considering that your process for tinglers is just to write it out and not stress about proofreading and editing, was it weird for you to see someone decide to go back, examine, and contemplate every single tingler published in the past decade?
the whole dang project was really wonderful for me, for exactly the reason you have just said. tinglers are very STREAM OF CONSCIOUS and only edited with one quick pass so while i think this adds to their honesty and rawness it also means that my time with them is limited. really watching someone go back through them at this depth was like reading a diary that i have not opened for many years, and it jumps around through time in a very beautiful way. it was very moving
-I love tingler character names. I personally admire how many great ones you come up with. (I never know what to name my ttrpg characters.) You just come up with all these great names that seemingly spring from nowhere, how do you do it?
DANG great question cant believe i have not been asked this before but yes there is a type of name that shows up in the tingleverse that is unusual and has a certain feeling and cadence that is very specific. if i am trotting along with sweet barbara and there is a name of a product or a place or something that has this tone we will say ‘oh thats a tingleverse name.’ the reason i wanted to do this in the books was as a very subtle way of saying these stories exist on a timeline that is RIGHT next to ours, so in some ways it is exactly the same as our world but there are these little cultural differences with things like chocolate milk and spaghetti and then with the names. you will have buckaroos like justin and sarah trotting along next to buckaroos named corb torbins-quill or borto lart.
-So, as a reader, reading from 2014 to now, old tinglers and new tinglers feel different to me. I believe you when you say tinglers have always been sincere, but they feel MORE sincere than they used to be. Like, I feel like there was some self-consciousness and irony in some of the early tinglers that you've since let go of and embraced the Chuck Tingle voice more. I don't know, am I imagining this, or does this square with your tingler writing journey? If it does, what has that process been like for you?
i think you are absolutely correct. the intention with tinglers was always to be a place for me to express myself with complete sincerity, but the practical way of HOW to trot like this took a bit of an evolution to arrive at. in other words i knew the basics, but actually refining the best way to express yourself and perform your art takes time. maybe in the same way goin back and watching season one of a tv show can feel very different from season three, even though they are part of the same expression. 
similar thing happened with in my chuck PRESENTATION as well, where my main focus was to stay anonymous so the metaphors i used to talk about my life were still true but laid on much thicker. even my attire was a large gi so that you would not even be able to see my shape, which has obviously changed now because i wear suits these days. all of this was a process of starting in a place i knew was important to me and then peeling off the parts that were not helping the message or expression over time
-Is there anything you could tell us about the significance of Borson Reems? I feel like he's more than just another Buck Trungle/Chuck Tangle/etc but I'm not sure what exactly...
yes borson reems is god. not that i believe in GOD in the way that most buckaroos talk about god (i am agnostic) but within the tingleverse, borson reems is an avatar for the creator of that world. technically i am borson reems, because i am writing the books. the question is: are we all the gods of our own little worlds that we create? i do not know, but when i look around at my buds and the joy and love they bring to various timelines they sure seem like gods to me
-A lot of no-sex tinglers (especially ones that aren't romance-focused) vary in terms of plot and structure a lot more than erotic tinglers. Is your writing process for these stories any different?
same process actually, but the sex scenes in tinglers are about 1500 to 2000 words long, and total tingler length is 4000 words which means if you are not including that portion you are going to have to come up with some creative way to fill that space in the story and a new axis for story to turn on. so the variety comes from me getting creative and trying out different axis points
-In "Not Pounded By My Book "Pounded In The Butt By My Non-Fungible Tingler That Is Literally This NFT" Because Of The Current Catastrophic Environmental And Ethical Impact" there are references to an earlier draft of the story that was never released because you ended up disagreeing with the message. Are there any other tinglers that never got finished and/or published, if you'd be willing to talk about any of them?
oh this is a VERY good question. the story of the NFT tingler is that when buckaroos were first talkin on nfts online and nobody really knew what they were, my first thoughts were just ‘oh this is interesting what the heck is this?’ this is my way with most CURRENT EVENTS. and i thought ‘this would be an interesting tingler, i suppose maybe i should make the tingler an ACTUAL nft’. this was in VERY early days so i did not really even understand what an nft was (neither did 99 percent of buckaroos yet honestly). so i looked into it just enough to actually MAKE a nft tingler that was a real nft and put it out. lasted for about thirty seconds before buckaroos were messaging saying ‘oh this is bad chuck you should look into what this is’ and i DID look into it and thought’ oh yeah this is terrible nevermind’. i took down the original and thought ‘well THIS is what art is all about. this is where i thrive in a world of moving living art that is in communication with itself’. so i dove into the research and actually started to understand NFTS and then i repurposed the story into a strongly anti-nft tingler and put that on out instead.
as far as OTHER tinglers that kind of move and breathe and live like this, in communication with the audience, GAY T-REX LAW FIRM is another very good example. that one i wrote early on and i think it was kind of in the model of something like fifty shade of grey, where issues of kink and consent and communication are not really handled well. i think at the time it came out the story was okay, but as time went on it always kind of bothered me and finally i thought ‘i love art that exists in the REAL WORLD and changes and evolves, so lets rewrite that story and fix some of these mistakes.’ honestly it is something i wish more artists would be open to. its okay to let something hold strong against a changing timeline, but it is also okay to explore what its like to take the notes that time gives us
-This one is about Chuck Tingle that exists in deeper layers of the Tingleverse that operate on tingler logic: what does the location inside his/your butt look like?
probably a nice mid-century modern home up in laurel canyon neighborhood of los angeles. kind of quiet and small like a cabin but also very cozy, like the kind of place where you would put on a crosby stills nash and young record on vinyl and gaze out into the woods for a while then walk down the hill for dinner at a little cafe where you spot some actor from a 60s tv show also having dinner in the corner booth. this basically sounds like the start of a tingler and in that tingler i will say the actor would be a bigfoot.
-OK this one is very self-indulgent but if you could help settle this frequent point of discussion I have with my wife- where do the following fit in the Tingleverse bigfoot/dinosaur/unicorn/living object(/human/does not apply?) taxonomy?
-a ghost of a regular human
-a regular human vampire
-a human/fish mermaid
-a sentient winged horse
-a sentient centipede large enough to wrap around a mountain several times (she is handsome)
alright lets trot through these. a GHOST is not one of the four tingle types so you can have a ghost racecar or a ghost unicorn or a ghost bigfoot. ghosts are outside of the four types and do not have a classification
a VAMPIRE is also outside of the four types. so you can have a vampire bigfoot or, of course, a vampire night bus. does not strictly fall into any of the four main categories
MERMAIDS are technically a long lost species of unicorn I DONT MAKE THE RULES I JUST EXPLAIN THEM. this makes the MERMOPED tingler a little confusing but i had to pick a category and that one went into living object. now that i mention it possibly the only tingler that is technically a double category of unicorn/living object.
WINGED HORSE is easy, thats a pegasus which is a species of unicorn just like a mermaid
a SENTIENT CENTIPEDE LARGE ENOUGH TO WRAP AROUND A MOUNTAIN is an ancient creature, therefore dinosaur tingler
-My other self-indulgent question: do you have a favorite bug? (Or second-favorite if you count Mothman as a bug)
i love finding spiders in the house and giving them a pet because they are doing a good job livin their lives doin their thing. close second would be a pretty ladybug
-Any thoughts on what tinglers will be like in 2025? Do you expect to be writing a lot of political tinglers again, like post-2016?
honestly i really do not like writing specifically political tinglers anymore, and the amount that i write has gradually dropped over time (i think ALL tinglers are political but in a different way). so honestly i think i will write a few political tinglers but not many. my hypothesis on this is that my HORROR NOVELS are very very political and so maybe i get a lot of these ideas out of my system that way now. when it comes to tinglers i just wanna explore my OWN mind and heart and butt more
THANK YOU for these wonderful questions and thank you for your tingler-a-day project it was so moving and powerful. what a treat it was an honor to be a part of something so beautiful. THIS PROVES LOVE IS REAL
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gallusrostromegalus · 1 day ago
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I did not care at all for Aizen Sosuke when I first read bleach. I found him boring, and worst, unthreatening.
So it's pretty jarring for me that I have been OBSESSED with him in your AU. I'm rotating him at great speed
Walt Disney was a jackass who was flat-out wrong about a lot of very important things, but he employed a great many geniuses of storytelling, and there's a piece in Disney Animation: The Illusion of Life by Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnson that discusses a key feature of Disney Studios Character Design:
"Of all characters, villains are the most fun to develop because they make everything else happen. They are the instigators, and always more colorful than the Hero. They may be dramatic, awesome, insidious or semi-comic, but they MUST be appealing. Almost any story becomes innocuous if all the evil is eliminated, but we do not necessarily gain strength by being frightening. we want a character that will hold the audience and entertain them, even if it's a Chilling Type of Entertainment."
And I've found that to be an important principle of character design, especially the kind of canon restructuring I do.
Aizen had a LOT going for him in canon- for all of Bleach's other faults, Aizen's conspiracy and THE REVEAL are spectacularly constructed and executed. I legit screamed and threw my mug across my dorm room when I read it in the manga the first time. He's also conventionally attractive and the translations I was reading gave him the speech patterns of Every Douchebag In Your 101 Political Theory Who Thinks He's The Smartest Man In The Room, which made him a terrific combination of Unfortunately Charming, Menacingly Competent and Engagingly Obnoxious.
...But he falls flat in a few key places.
Aizen's reasoning could be MUCH more sympathetic- After all, he is RIGHT. Soul Sciety does suck ass and all the options kind of suck. Who designs a universe like that? An asshole who needs killing, that's who. The best kind of Unhinged Madmen are the kind who spell out their reasoning and you realize that there but for the grace of Not Having Super Powers Go I. Canon!Aizen makes a few Good Rhetorical Points, but seems to lack any personal connection to his all-consuming plan.
Another issue is that nearly every villain with A Plan has a clear end goal AND a lot of the menace is drawn from the fact that the plan *could* work. Aizen's plan for betraying the court guard and then killing them off before proceeding into the Royal Realm to Kill God sorta falls apart when it's clear he planned to use pretty much all his accumulated forces dealing with the court guard and doesn't seem to have a plan for the Even More Powerful Royal Guard, let alone God. For how meticulously planned the rest of the plot is, the last two VERY IMPORTANT steps are just handwaved.
So I sat down and started with the plot beats Aizen MUST hit, and tried to imagine what kind of guy would he have to be to get there? And I came up with this:
Sosuke Aizen is a fundamentally good man with genuinely good intentions who is really trying his best for the whole world.
Think about it- what lengths would you NOT go to if you think you found a genuine shot at Fixing Everything Wrong With The World Forever? We all talk about killing Hitler if we found an actual Time Machine- would you do it if your only chance was when he was a baby? Would you kill an infant if it meant you could stop World War II before it starts? Of course you would! One small life for over 75 million? You'd be insane not to! What if you found out that you could prevent the future extinction of Humanity by killing your best friend today? Ten Billion lives? For theirs? It's simple, really- Hell, it's your Moral Obligation to do that if you were SURE!
-And Aizen IS sure. He is absolutely, totally, completely sure that He Can Save Everyone if he just gets rid of that idiot sitting on the throne of heaven. He's seen the plans! He knows where the gate of heaven is! It's So SIMPLE he just has to get inside, and he knows EXACTLY how to do it, yes it'll be hard and there will be... unpleasant parts but. IT. WILL. WORK.
He is of course, insane.
Aizen didn't have One Bad Day that set him irrevocably on the path of madness. It was a succession of catastrophic disappointments and realizations that he was living in a fundamentally irrational world that made irrational thinking look sane. The Catastrophe that befell his family, working for the central 46 and later the court guard and seeing how the organizations were inept to the point of abuse or corrupt to the core, learning that The Actual House Of God is a place he can just? Go to? Anyone would start thinking you were just a handful of white lies and homicides away from Fixing Everything, Forever.
Not only is Aizen insane, he is nowhere near as smart as he thinks. He is smart- He does have a knack for being able to guess just what will spur someone to action or make them recoil in fear. But mostly he gets extremely lucky Many, Many, MANY times. On some level I think it gives him Confirmation Bias that this is what he's supposed to be doing. Aizen is also nowhere near as smart as (nearly) everyone else thinks he is. His bizarrely good luck makes him look like a hyper-competent genius when really it was really the catastrophic failure of Soul Society as a Society that let a merely mediocre conspirator to evade detection for so long.
Being that he is at most, mediocre, he had to have Outside Help, specifically Gin's emotional support and Tousen's Competence- and if there's a part of the fic that stays true to canon, it's this.
Gin is Aizen's emotional rock in Canon. He's the ONE guy that Aizen genuinely trusts, and considers his 'my only real partner' in his scheme. There's more than one occasion in the manga where Aizen more or less asks Gin "Is this actually a good idea?" and Gin backs him up every time.
...Which is more than a bit at odds with Gin's later stated goal of "I did all this to kill you at your most vulnerable to protect rangiku" . It never rang true to me. So I started thinking why on EARTH Gin would be backing Aizen up like that, and realized there was a hole in my world building that he slotted into nicely :)
On the other hand, the entire fic was started because I didn't like how Tousen's character arc ended, so you can imagine how much he's changed.
But in canon, TOUSEN DOES ALL THE FUCKING WORK.
Lab work? Tousen.
Supervising the arrancar directly? Tousen
Actually getting victims for the Hogyoku experiments? Tousen.
Altering all the archives to keep Aizen's plot hidden? Tousen.
Sending all the Orders allegedly from the central 46? Tousen.
Making sure Unohana believes Aizen's fake body is real? Tousen.
Managing all the day-to-day operations at Las Noches? Tousen.
There's even this little exchange, which is Tousen's first appearance in the Manga:
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Aizen establishes this entire meeting is a little fake-out a few pages later with "now isn't that a convenieint time for the alarm to go off?"
which makes him look like he's investigating, but he's also going "Good job on disrupting everyone with the alarm Gin!" It's ballsy of Aizen to do a check-in on his plan with his main nemesis in the room, but also his style.
I think the same thing is happening here with Tousen. To make sure Ukitake wouldn't raise a huge fit about the proposed execution of his beloved lieutenant, which might fuck everything up for Aizen because Ukitake is one of like, three people Yamamoto will listen to (sort of).
...So he had Tousen poison Ukitake to keep him out of the way.
ALL. THE. FUCKING. WORK. It's even in his name! The characters for "Tousen" Refer to a legendary scholar the emperor of China sent out to discover the secret of immortality- only to kill the scholar when he returned with that secret. The character for "Kaname" means "Necessary/Vital/keystone" or "to organize/take account of". His name LITERALLY means "Scholar who is essential for the plan (that we're going to kill later)"
Another thing Kubo did well in Bleach: his name game is Off The Fucking Charts.
-but I digress.
In AEIWAM, it's much the same only this time Aizen sees this very dangerous witness who is immune to his illusions but also extremely snart and capable young man and instead of risking being caught out by the one damn guy who can see right through him, opts to Curse Kaname into doing as Aizen says, and doing all the fucking work of this conspiracy against his will.
It's Not Nice, but Aizen genuinely thinks he's doing Kaname a favor by subjecting him to this degrading and incredibly painful servitude- I mean, Aizen's only other option was to Kill him to keep his silence, and isn't it wonderful that you get to help fix the universe? You're the one always going on about Justice, I don't understand why you didn't jump at the chance to mete out some Divine Justice.
An Excerpt from the captain's meeting in between the Massacre that made the visored and Zaraki's arrival, when Kaname realizes Yamamoto is 100% serious about his promotion to captain of the 9th and goes to throw up in the garden. Aizen offers to go check on him while Unohana very politely reads the general the riot act:
---
"You broke your toy Aizen." Kaname coughs.
"…I really am sorry for running you ragged like this. I really shouldn't have gotten so mad about you hiding the the hogyoku- it was very petty of me." The bastard sighs, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face, entirely genuine.
Kaname stayed on his hands and knees, weaving slightly as another wave of nausea flowed through him, powered by disgust and rage.
"How about this- I've got a lot coming up with the new job, training Gin and disposing of Kiganjo- So how about I promise to not give you any orders for a while? You will have to keep our arrangement a secret and not interfere, of course, but other than that, you're free to do as you please for- a year and a day is traditional isn't it? No, that's not going to heal by then- Oh, would you look at that!"
Kaname didn't have the strength to offer his usual rebuttal that he won't look at anything, ever. The sides of his head tingle like his skul was being pressed between two enormous hands made of static electricity.
"It's 11:11! Alright, I won't give you any Orders until 11:11 am on November 11th, 1911. That's easy to remember! What do you think?" Aizen continued cheerfully, patting his back and the Curse nails.
"…I can't." Kaname groaned. He could scream if he had the energy, but due to Aizen's Illusions, nobody would hear him. "I actually physically can't think. Please…"
"Of course! You really are such a help to me, it would be a shame to lose you. I'll even amend our contract, so you don't get paranoid-" There was a sizzling sound and a new stroke of hot pain up Kaname's spine as Aizen did something to the wretched Bakudo. "There. No compulsions for eleven years and a day. What do you say?"
Kaname grimaced, but dropped his head. Save the energy to fight another day. "…thank you, Aizen-sama."
"Good man! Let's get you on your feet." Aizen beamed, putting his glasses back on and offering him an arm.
---
He genuinely thinks that he's doing everyone a huge favor and if they don't get it it's because they're just not smart enough, but it's alright, He's a Benevolent God and they'll appreciate all his hard work the next time around :)
Aizen is a man who is FULL of joy. He loves what he does! He actively takes pleasure in it! And I think that's something that REALLY delivers in terms of sympathy AND horror for him. Who *Wouldn't* have a great time actually fixing the universe? He's a good man who enjoys doing good works, and this is the greatest work of all!
It also Delivers on the Horror when I get to write the deliciously fun scenes where Aizen is Elbows-deep in a novel War Crime and waxing poetic about how GREAT this is, or being confused why the people around him are reacting with fear. Don't you want to make everything better too?
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clockwork-hearted · 11 hours ago
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This was the first queer movie I watched in high school. I remember finally having good, strong WiFi and exploring YouTube one night. Was using my refurbished MacBook that I begged my dad to get me so I can have something to use for school.
I don’t remember how exactly I came across this movie (honestly was probably going through some YouTube rabbit hole of “movies where guys make out” or the classic “two men kissing” search), but it was the full length movie. And it was free.
I was so excited to watch it and see what kind of guy on guy action I would get to see. But being forced to stay in the closet growing up, I couldn’t just outright watch this movie while my parents were home.
So I bookmarked it. Made sure I even saved the link somewhere. And had to wait until my parents weren’t home.
Thankfully, I ended up realizing that I was a teen that was allowed to stay up late on the weekends. So I stayed up, waited until both my parents were in their rooms, fast asleep, and then I went into my room, closed the door (couldn’t lock it though. Locking bedroom doors was an offense that would cause a scene every time for absolutely no reason), plugged my headphones in, and snuggled up and watched it.
I remember sitting upright to start it then getting tired and deciding to lay down. Ended up laying the laptop on its side just so I could keep watching haha
And I remember going through the rollercoaster of emotions seeing these two characters having a connection but being so twisted up about it. Regardless of everything they went through, I still wanted that. I still wanted someone I could kiss passionately. Someone I could go to bed with and wake up next to in our own little world. Someone I could go to the beach with and spend all day with. Someone who wanted to push me for my abilities (don’t have any but it played into my fantasies lol) and strive to be the best I could be at them.
And then reaching the end of the movie and being so happy with it. I remember crying. Crying so much that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop. I remember shoving my face in my pillows to try and muffle my crying.
Oh, I learned to cry silently so very quick in my home. How I learned what it meant to be even more suppressed than I already was. How I had to learn to hold back all the choking sounds my throat would utter and just let the tears flow. Silently blowing my nose into tissues so I wouldn’t wake my parents and cause a scene.
“Why are you crying? What’s happening? What did you watch? What’s going on? Etc. etc. etc.” - yeah, like I was going to come clean about my emotions and be able to talk these things out. Pht. How I wished and how I dreamed that I could. Would’ve made growing up easier. But I didn’t have those kinds of parents.
So the first night I watched this movie, it meant a lot in such little time. Movies like this really saved me as a teen.
I started doing a deep dive into any and all other queer movies I could find online for free (but that’s a story for a different time).
Tbh, I had forgotten about this gem of a movie. Made me feel a little guilty for forgetting, mostly because it really helped me continue pretending, and knowing that one day I would find someone to experience beautiful moments with. It allowed me to realize that queer media (that wasn’t porn) was out there, that I didn’t have to feel alone, and that it was only a few key strokes and google searches away.
For anyone who read through this whole thing (I know I blabbed, but I really needed to get this off my chest and my mind), thank you.
And I also hope that even though the world can feel so against you, even in spaces that are supposed to be safe, that there are people out there that know and understand you and can relate to how you feel.
I know it’s always easier said than done, but hang in there. And if it all gets to be too suffocating, please remember there are resources out there to help. But please, please, please, don’t get snuffed out. Let yourself burn as bright as you can. Because at the end of the day, you will always find Shelter- whether it’s with family members, friends, teachers, chosen/adoptive families, online communities, etc. you will find it. And you will be safe. And you will be loved.
I wish you all the very best. May this movie and many others bring you as much joy as it did to me. <3
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Shelter (2007) dir. Jonah Markowitz
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dawngyu · 3 days ago
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THE LAST SAFE PLACE
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pairing: idol!beomgyu x fem!soldier reader click here for moodboard
Summary: The world didn’t end with a bang. It ended with a whisper, a deadly virus creeping through the streets, turning the living into something… monstrous.
It was supposed to be a mission. Get in. Get out. Rescue the five a-list boys holed up deep in the city of Seoul. But nothing in this new, broken world is simple anymore.
The dead don’t scare you as much as his starry eyes do—deep brown eyes that make you question if you’re the one who needs saving, after all.
warnings!: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. apocalypse!, survival!, blood!, character!deaths, zombies!, descriptions of!killing, gore!, attempted!sa, menace!reader, anxiety!attacks, signs of!pstd, cursing!, side oc characters, reader has her own last name, pov being switched from reader to beomgyu, mini timeskips, drunk-in-love beomgyu, emotional-baggage, let me know if I missed any! (not proofread, first fic.) smut!warnings: fingering!, oral!fem receiving, missionary, unprotected, slightbody!worship.
wordcount: 30k
notes: Whenever I saw writers call their fic their "baby," I used to wonder what that really felt like. Now here I am, sharing my first-ever fic—my baby—with all of you. It’s far from perfect; I know that. But isn’t that the beauty of writing? I believe we all have room to grow, and so do I.
This fic is inspired by two things I hold dear; Beomgyu (and TXT as a whole) and the idea of finding love in the middle of an apocalypse. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it.
taglist: I just want to say I love you. thank you for giving this story a chance. @beomiracles @agustdiv1ne @binluvsu @saejinniestar @haowonbins @vampzity @usuallyunlikelyfox @gyu-tori @xodidarks @tubasmiracle @hyunelixbun @woncheecks @lovingbeomgyudayone @beomsdoll @baekberrie @parkweylyn @lun4mizuka @lilbrorufr @no1likemybbgcharlie
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Saying the military "protects the nation" always felt like a hollow statement to you—something neat and rehearsed, meant for recruitment ads or patriotic speeches, you came to understand it all too well after years of service. Life is fragile, easily dismissed with a single command, and the concept of disobedience isn’t even an option.
You follow orders, make decisions, and carry out tasks already mapped out for you and your team. The oath you swore binds you to honour whatever higher-ups deem necessary for the greater good, no matter the cost. It matters not, even if it costs your life. That’s how it is.
You've lived like that for as long as you can remember, and sometimes you wonder if it’s that very belief—an unwavering fool—that drove you to become the soldier you are. You know by now that it will also be the very reason for your end someday.
The sound of banging at the door jerks you awake. Your eyes strain in the pitch-black darkness of the barracks. You think you might’ve slept, but it doesn’t feel like it—not really. More like you were just drifting in and out of consciousness, never quite at rest.
"Park. Roll Call." You blinked, scrunching your face. The pounding on the door didn't let up, insistent as ever, making it clear there was no chance of them stopping.
"I'm up." You shouted. The cool floor met your bare feet, and you groggily reached for your shoes tucked neatly underneath. Your eyes flicked briefly to the small bottle of sleeping pills on the bedside table. It sat there like an accusation, a stark reminder of the restless hours you spent last night. The tossing, the turning, the damp sheets sticking to your skin as you wrestled with the silence that refused to grant you peace.
You exhaled, rubbing a hand over your face. The pills—felt like the only option. You stared at the bottle, before grabbing it and slipping it into your bag.
Opening the door, you found yourself face to face with a smirking Do-hyun. "Good morning," he said, tone laced with sarcasm. "Except it’s 2:30 a.m. and we’ve got urgent business. Captain’s called us. Did not say anything about it."
"Must be top secret," you muttered, wincing as the harsh overhead light hit your face. You tried to tame your hair, pulling it into a sloppy ponytail. "C'mon."
You fell into step beside Do-Hyun, the sound of your boots hitting the floor echoing down the empty hallways of the garrison. Your shoulders brushed as you walked, the quiet around you almost unsettling. It was way too early—or maybe too late—for anyone to be this awake.
Seeing a few other soldiers from different units, you saw the same thing: them stumbling into their shoes, eyes half-closed, still caught somewhere between sleep and whatever had pulled them out of bed.
Your boots thudded against the floor with each step. Everyone knows the drill—soon enough, you'd find out what the mission was. Probably something you weren’t supposed to ask too many questions about. Face set in a hard, businesslike expression, you could feel another one coming. Another duty. Another unknown.
"This must be a big one," you muttered, scanning the growing crowd of fighters being herded into place. It was rare to see… this many called out at once. "How many teams are they assembling?"
"I don’t know," Do-Hyun replied with a tired sigh, clearly irritated. "I should be asleep, dreaming about anything other than this, but here we are." Early-morning chaos is the only thing that can get under his skin.
You followed him as he turned left down another corridor. People started staring as you passed—from other squads, lingering on the two of you. They knew. They knew who you were.
Black berets. Special Commands Unit. Infamous. You didn’t need to say it aloud; everyone already knows. The reputation of efficiency, precision, and something else—something darker. Your team never, ever failed. Your team didn’t just complete missions. You annihilated them.
That reputation followed you everywhere. You could still feel the weight of their gazes—some filled with admiration, others with something harder to read, maybe even a little fear. It wasn’t new. You’d felt it for years, people looked at you like you were a hero or a big, bad warning.
You were used to it by now.
When you finally enter into the room where your team usually gathers, the moment your eyes land on the team commander, you and Do-yun both instinctively, snap to attention, "Captain Joon. Park Y/N and Jung Do-yun, reporting."
"At ease. Sit down," Captain Joon responds, tone as calm as ever, looking at you directly as if assessing your state. You lower your salute, glancing around at the rest of your teammates already seated. Looks like you’re the last to arrive.
You make your way to an empty seat, crossing your legs as you also folded your arms, leaning back for comfort. You catch the faintest glance from another one of your teammates, Eun-woo, who raises an eyebrow at you but says nothing.
Captain Joon stands at the front, pacing back and forth, usual self missing. He opens his mouth, then stops, words not coming. He closes it again, staring ahead. It’s strange to see him hesitate like this—it’s not like him at all.
"Alright," he starts, avoiding anyone for eye contact. "We’ve got a new mission. It’s… a lot different than what we usually have." You uncross your arms and lean forward without thinking, drawn on the word "different." There’s something about it—his tone, his hesitation, maybe—that makes your stomach clench.
He continues, "This one’s high-risk. We don’t know exactly what we’re walking to. We’ve got intel, but it’s shaky at best; All I know is there’s a virus spreading. Not like Corona. No, it’s not like that. This one… it turns people into something, not human. They become—" He stops, words hanging in the air. "—they kill.. They attack. And they spread it to others. It’s not confirmed yet, but it will be. Soon."
He doesn’t wait for any further response. "We move out in an hour or two. We will be assigned to a specific mission in the middle of this. Get your gear ready. Dismissed." Six pairs of eyes follow him as he exits, leaving a heavy silence in the room. It's cold. It almost feels unreal—like something out of a movie.
You’d been to other countries, thrown into the thick of it—dealing with terrorists, and a hundred other ways to die. After all the things you’d seen, all the wars you’d fought, the idea of a virus outbreak was not the kind of fight you were used to.
"So, a virus? Like zombies?" Seo-jun’s voice breaks the stillness. He stands up, eyes wide with disbelief.
"It's medically impossible." Beom-seok replied, shaking his head, "Or at least… it should be." he added, almost to himself.
"If it's a virus—then what? How are we, supposed to stop that? A plan on how? Is there going to be a… vaccine? Some cure?"
You stand up, movement so subtle yet enough to make the others still, their attention turning to you. "We’ll figure it out," you say, voice firm. You lean back against the table, crossing your arms, "We always do. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it."
Do-hyun shoots you a look, then nods, his expression unreadable. "Right," he says. "We’ll deal with it."
The words hang in the air, and the newly shut door swings open with a loud noise, making everyone turn. A figure stands in the doorway, breathless. "Did you guys see the news?"
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"Did you see the news?"
Yeonjun’s hands were trembling as he shoved his phone into Taehyun’s hands, practically forcing him to look. On the screen was a livestream—a news broadcast, but not the usual kind.
Taehyun blinked, his half-asleep face confused as his eyes adjusted to the screen. He stared, his breath catching when he realized what he was watching. He’d never been a fan of gore or horror, and this felt like both—worse, even. The video was chaos: people running, screaming, blood everywhere. Limbs tangled and barely escaping the streets. The sounds of panic—raw, animalistic—clawed at his nerves. He shivered, his voice coming out barely above a whisper. "Is this… a new movie or something?"
Yeonjun swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the phone as he snatched it back, his fingers quickly tapping away at the screen. "No," he said, voice low, "It’s from.. SBS."
"A drama from SBS?" Taehyun asked, still trying to make sense of what he had just seen.
"No," Yeonjun shook his head quickly. "News live stream. It's been trending. Saw it a couple of minutes ago." Panic flared across his face as he started typing furiously, sending messages to his mom. Where are you? Are you safe? Please reply. His heart pounded with every second of silence that followed.
As the phone screen glowed with his continuous text, the sound of a door creaking open interrupted. Soobin stepped out of the bathroom, checking the two of them that seemed frozen in place. "What happened?" he asked, voice laced with concern.
The question was left unanswered when Yeonjun’s phone suddenly rang. A small spark of relief flaring up in his chest—only for it to fade just as quickly.
It wasn’t from his mom. It's their manager, "Hello?"
Taehyun got up to get his own phone, his movements stiff. Soobin stayed by Yeonjun’s side, eyes flicking between the phone in Yeonjun's hand and his face—filled with anxious expression.
"He’ll speak to you. He wants to," Yeonjun said, meeting Soobin's gaze. His voice was uncertain. Yeonjun did not want to miss out on anything, but the manager had already requested for their leader. Soobin nodded, catching the worry in the latter's eyes. He offered a soft tone, "You can put it on speaker."
"Okay, listen up. I don’t know what’s really happening, but it’s dangerous, very dangerous out there. It’s… people eating people. Do not let anyone leave the house. All five of you. You've just had your groceries dropped, right?"
"Yeah, but what’s—" Yeonjun’s voice cracked, but the manager cut him off.
"Again, I don’t know much. None of us do. We heard the president’s about to announce martial law over this. The military’s locking down the city. You can’t go anywhere. All you need to do is stay inside. Help will come. When they get there, they’ll say my name. You’ll know it’s them." Hands trembled slightly as he held the phone, fighting the urge to hang up and try calling his mom again. Soobin saw it, his own anxiety spiking so he stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder then taking the phone from his shaky grip.
"How long do we have to stay here?" Soobin whispered. "What about our families? They’re out there too."
"I don’t know," came the reply, the voice on the other end. "This started in Seoul, based on the news. The military’s setting up safe zones in every city around you. They’ll be protected. But no one can get in or out until things settle. Just… stay inside. I’ll keep you updated when I can-" The line went dead. They stared at the phone, signal bar disappearing completely.
"What are we going to do now?" They heard Kai mutter. He’d stepped out of his room after hearing the commotion. "Hiyyih is out here in Seoul too."
"I don’t have a signal now either," Soobin said, glancing at his own phone, face tightening as soon as he saw missed calls from his dad, his mom, and his sister, brother. He has missed their calls. With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed the TV remote and switched it on, only to be met with a busy signal. The screen flickered, in bold letters, the message appeared:
STAY INDOORS. ANY SIGNS OF WOUNDS, FEVER, OR VIOLENT BEHAVIOR—ISOLATE IMMEDIATELY.
He started flipping through the channels, to see something different. But each station showed the same warning. Taehyun returned, his face heavy with worry. "I got through to my mom, but she was crying too much to say anything. Just told me to stay safe."
Yeonjun was silent. He didn't know what to do, unsure if this was some elaborate prank. Looking around the room, suddenly realised something. "And where the hell is Beomgyu?"
"Sleeping."
A scream pierced the air outside the dorm room, making all of them jump in shock. Kai was the first to react, quickly moving toward the door and peering through the peephole. For a brief moment, there was nothing—just eerie silence. Then, a thump echoed, followed by continuous pounding on the steel door.
"Help!" The voice outside cried, voice hoarse. Shuffling was heard.
"Kai, get here!" Soobin hissed, Kai moved back, frozen in place, gaze still fixed on the door. Slowly, he crossed the room, his footsteps making no sound, cautious as he approached the youngest. He then grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back, away from the door. "Stay away from the door,"
Four men stood paralyzed, eyes wide and locked on the door, afraid that it might open, every muscle tense. The door vibrated with each pound from the other side, and the sound of another scream sent a chill down their spines.
Waiting in terrified silence, hoping whatever was outside would stop.
Yeah. They definitely shouldn’t go outside.
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It had been seventy-two hours since the government declared the state of emergency.
Seventy-two hours, since the virus outbreak hit the public, and almost everything began to spiral out of control. Your team had been pushed from one task to the next—helping transport, fortifying armoury barricades, trying to keep the city standing. You feel like you couldn't even have time to blink.
Nothing seemed to stand a chance against the speed of the virus.
The radio crackled to life, its voice cutting through the tense silence. "It’s reported that some cases have been found outside of Seoul too."
You swallowed, the water in your canteen suddenly feeling too heavy in your mouth. Your rifle was strapped to your back—knives tucked into your pockets pulled at your clothes, a grim necessity. Your backpack packed with supplies, pulled at your shoulders.
The blood on the streets made your face contort. It wasn’t just the sight of it—it was the knowledge that innocent people, civilians, were the ones who’d ended up here. It was their blood staining the ground, their lives cut short. In just seventy-two hours, this outbreak had become a full-blown mad nightmare. It was real, right here—heavy, like the world had already started to fall apart around you.
"How long?" you asked, trying to shake the unease gnawing at your stomach.
"The report came in an hour ago," came the response. An hour. Sixty minutes. That’s all it took for the virus to spread. An hour, it was no longer just the city.
"There’s still some armory left in this area," Captain Joon says, brushing off the latest intel your team just received. "We need to clear this out, then head back to camp for the next mission."
You slip the water bottle back into the side pocket of your backpack and tilt your head back, stretching out any stiffness. It's been almost twenty-four hours since you last slept.
"Ju-won will come with us."
"The newbie?" Ji-ho raises an eyebrow.
But the thing is, he’s not really a newbie. The military doesn’t just let anyone into the special command unit—you have to be overqualified to even get a chance. People are reacting this way because it’s been years since anyone new has joined. They’re not used to it. The whole thing feels a little odd.
The boy walks forward. You glance at him, and it’s clear right away. The way his body stiffens when he sees seven seasoned soldiers in front of him—he can’t be more than twenty. But, something about the way he carries himself catches your attention. His eyes don’t drop, not even for a second. There’s no sign of hesitation or backing down, even as the rest of you appraise him, silently evaluating his physical presence. It’s almost as if he expects to be here, like he belongs.
He's got guts.
"Captain," he saluted, "Min Ju-won. Sent from Unit Two to provide additional assistance. Engineering."
Captain Joon gave a quick nod, his eyes briefly shifting to you. "Stick with Y/N." Ju-won lowered his salute and jogged over to where you stood.
"We leave in 10 minutes,"
Seo-jun let out a low whistle, looking over Ju-won with a grin. "Well, look what we got here. A kid at the end of the world. What a nice day it is." The sarcasm in his voice hung in the air as he effortlessly adjusted his M4.
"Ignore him. He's a twat," you muttered, clicking your tongue and feigning an attempt to kick Seo-jun's leg for his comment.
Ju-won, just smiled and waved it off, his eyes still locked on you with an almost admiration. "It's alright," he said quickly. "Y/N… then I must be looking at the black beret's most skilled team engineer and sharp-shooter."
"Damn right, she is," Do-Hyun chimed in, grinning as he playfully ruffled your hair. You slapped his hand away, the motion half-hearted but familiar.
The wind howled as the cargo truck went down the rugged road, the engine's hum barely audible over the gusts. Beom-Seok was at the wheel, while Captain Joon sat in the passenger seat, checking the horizon. The other six of you were crammed in the back, weapons ready.
You could feel that someone was watching you. You turned your head to the right, and sure enough, there he was—Ju-won, looking at you with an expression that was oddly calm for a day like this. You chewed absently on the sweet gum in your mouth.
"I’ve always heard your name, even when I was still training," he said almost embarrassed, but there was a hint of respect in his words, "A lot of us admire your skills. We even know your schedule—like when you will drop off at the headquarters."
"Yeah?" You raised an eyebrow, curious but not particularly moved. "What am I supposed to do with that?"
Ju-won grinned, unfazed. "And, of course, your temper is well-known too."
You snorted at that. Of course, it was. You'd made more than one higher-up nearly pass out with your snark and disregard.
Most of them acted like you were supposed to kiss their feet, even though they barely had the skills to back it up—just a good last name and a father in a high place. Lucky bastards. They got used to it—eventually.
Ju-won seemed to pause, thinking for a moment. "I want to be like you."
It caught you off, staring at him, no response from your lips. Who would want to be as miserable? Who in the right mind would? No one should have to carry this kind of burden, no one but you.
"You don’t know anything," you said, right after seconds of silence. "Trust me, you don’t."
Ju-won didn’t seem discouraged by your bluntness. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, "Then maybe I can ask questions to get to know you better?"
"No." You're unsure of where he was going with this.
"Just one then? And if I do well on this mission, I can ask for another one after?" He pumped his fist after your silence, the small gesture that made you want to roll your eyes again.
"How old were you when you joined the military?" His voice was gentle, but his curiosity was clear.
It wasn’t a question people often asked, at least not in the way he asked it. Most were interested in your skills, the missions you’d completed, or the stories you could tell. No one, ever cared much about who you were before all that.
"About seventeen, officially," you replied, the words feeling strange in your mouth. Had it really been that long?
"Woah," Ju-won exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise. "And how long have you been in service?"
You glanced out at the passing landscape, your thoughts briefly drifting to the years that had passed. "Seven years. Counting."
"You're so cool." His gaze flicked to you a few more times, but he didn’t press further.
The only sound in the pitch-black courtyard was the soft shuffle of footsteps against gravel, your team moved cautiously toward the overrun military outpost. It had been more than twenty-four hours since anyone radioed in, and in your line of work, that could only mean one thing.
Defeat. Death. They’re dead.
You gripped the AR-15 in your hands, its weight and feel as familiar as your own skin. Your eyes stayed locked ahead, scanning the shadows, the captain just a few steps in front of you. You could feel Ju-won’s breath on your back.
"Hold." The captain's voice barely rose above a whisper, but you caught it—sharp and commanding. His hand went up in a familiar gesture, signaling. Eun-woo and Ji-ho moved, splitting off to cover the blind spots—each one wary of possible exits or hidden threats.
The minutes stretched on, almost suffocating. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, when faintly, a soft whistle.
A go signal. Finally.
The captain’s eyes flicked to you. Without words, he surged forward, and you followed, close, moving deeper into where the map was marked.
With Eun-woo and Ji-ho still posted at the entrance of the courtyard, and Beom-seok at the Cargo Truck to secure on the road, the remaining five of you moved carefully toward the building’s entrance.
Seo-jun reached for the rail handle and pulled it. It was a split-second decision, but he made the mistake of opening it too wide, too fast. The sound was deafening in the silence—a loud scrape of metal against metal. It was the darkness. Or maybe it was the way no one had heard anything.
The infected—so many of them—started to emerge from the inside, their eyes hungry, limbs jerking unnaturally as they snarled and gnawed at the space where you stood.
"Shut it off!" was yelled, but it was too late. Seo-jun tried desperately to pull the door, but the dead were already pushing their way through, toppling the door with brutal force. No stopping them now.
The growls, their gurgling moans, flooded. You took a step back, when you noticed the next wave of infected closing in from both sides—right and left. The courtyard was becoming a death trap.
“Guns!” Captain Joon barked, voice sharp and urgent. He raised his rifle, opening fire on the approaching dead, and you followed. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. You aimed at the nearest infected, firing with the precision you’d drilled into your muscle memory. Beside you, you felt Ju-won moving, his shots echoing through the chaos.
You kicked one of the infected coming too close toward you—hard. The sickening crack of its skull as it spun from the impact of your boots almost drowned out the growls, relief was fleeting—another wave was already pushing through.
"Move!" you shouted to Ju-won, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him to the right side, where it seemed there was a slight gap in the swarm. You followed, not letting up on your fire. Each shot to the head was methodical, each kill necessary for survival.
You kept repeating it in your head—headshots. Headshots, or they don’t die.
Through the haze of gunfire and screams, you spotted Do-hyun on the opposite side, surrounded but still fighting, his rifle a blur as he tried to hold the line.
"Captain!" you shouted, your voice rising over, as you saw the widening gap between your team. You continued firing, shots ringing out, each one a desperate attempt to keep the tide of the dead at bay. You grabbed the arm of an infected that crept up from behind, pulling it sidewards with all your strength. The thing flailed, but you kicked its legs out from under it, slamming its head down with a close shot. Blood splattering on your track pants.
Another bullet whizzed past you, too close, and you turned to meet Ju-won’s eyes. There was no time for words. He’d just taken down one of the infected that had come up behind you.
Minutes passed, but it felt like hours. The gunfire echoed in your ears, drowning out everything else. Then, you heard it—Seo-jun’s voice cutting through the noise.
"Captain. Orders!"
It was a soldier’s instinct, that need for direction even in the face of death. It was what you were trained to do, what you had to do.
"Fall back." His command came. The words you’d been waiting for. You began to step back, scanning the darkened courtyard. And then, just as you thought it couldn’t get worse, you saw it—a wave of infected flooding out from the building. Your eyes locked on one of them, a child, no more than twelve, wearing a middle school uniform.
No. No time to mourn, no time to think. You shake it off, turn your attention back to Ju-won, who was already falling back as well.
You ran, but it was a futile attempt. The middle part of the courtyard, the one that had been empty moments ago, was now swarming with infected.
“Go forward!” Captain Joon’s shouted again.
The sound of gunfire, the screams, the snarls—they were all blending together now. You saw Eun-woo and Ji-ho still at the entrance of the courtyard, firing relentlessly. But there were too many. It had to be the sound of all the gunfire—had to be why they were flooding in from the other buildings now.
You couldn’t run without firing. The infected were, too close for comfort.
“Ahhh!”
Ju-won’s scream tore through the noise, and you whipped your head to the side. You saw him—surrounded by four, maybe five infected. Their gnarled hands reaching for him.
You sprinted forward, the gun dropped in an instant. You reached the closest infected, grabbing its hair and yanking its head back with force. The knife you’d pulled was a flash of silver in the darkness, and you slashed it across its throat, the blade biting into the flesh with a wet sound.
You couldn’t fire. Not with Ju-won so close to them.
You felt Do-hyun and Seo-jun near you now, forming a small circle, keeping the infected at bay while you worked to free Ju-won. One by one, you killed the infected around him within seconds. But when the last one finally dropped, you froze for the first time tonight.
There's a wound. The bite. A deep, angry stash on Ju-won’s neck, blood spilling down his chest, soaking through and colouring his shirt. Your heart stopped.
"Y/N…" His voice was weak. Too weak.
"Come on," you said, trying to drag him to his feet. The others were silent, at the sight.
"Help me!" you shouted, the panic finally breaking through as the infected kept coming. "What the fuck are you staring at? Help me!"
Do-hyun snapped out of his thoughts and rushed to help. He moved to slide his arm under the left side, but before he could get a firm grip, Ju-won's hand shot out, pushing him away.
"Leave me."
"No. Come on."
“Just leave me, Y/N.” he whispered again, "I know I can't be helped."
“I’m not having this conversation—”
“It hurts!” Ju-won suddenly shouted, pain in his voice. His lips were turning blue, face pale, eyes glassy with tears. “It hurts so much. I—I want this to just end. End it. Please. I'm begging you.”
Your breath caught in your throat. He started crying, Min Ju-won.
“Y/N?” Do-hyun’s voice broke through, gunshots ringing, “Decide now.” Seo-jun’s voice was distant, more gunfire ringing out, words clear. He was asking you to make a choice.
"Shh, It’s going to be okay," you murmured, wiping his tears away, "Everything’s going to be okay." You pushed the sweat-damp strands of hair from his forehead, fingers brushing against his cold skin. “You’ll be alright.”
Min Ju-won.
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” You leaned in close, feeling his weak attempt to smile on your neck, breath coming out in ragged gasps when he felt you pressed your knife to the back of his head. “It’s okay, Ju-won.”
Making sure to do it quickly, you didn’t want him to suffer—not even for a second. He stilled, and then there was a quiet exhale against your skin. His last breath.
Arms went limp in your embrace.
Min Ju-won.
You stare at your hands, blood too much, not yours, too obvious to wipe away. The vehicle lurches forward, but nothing about this mission feels like it’s worth it. No weapons recovered. And one less soldier with you.
You ignore the stares of your teammates, the silent questions they’re too scared to ask. Even when your captain demands what happened, you can’t find the words.
Death isn’t new to you.
You’ve seen it, lived with it, had to pull the trigger more times than you care to admit. Had to deal with it more times than you'd care to count. But this… this is different. There’s a heaviness in your throat that won’t lift—can still feel him, still hear his laboured breath as you hold him in your arms.
The dog tags in your hand are cold against your palm. They’re not yours. There were too many of them. The infected.
No one could even bring his body back.
"We're here," Eun-woo says, the vehicle finally pulls to a stop at your temporary camp. He'd been staring out the window for the entire ride, lost in thought, barely noticing the road or time. You don’t wait for anyone to open get out. You push yourself out, body stiff and eyes burning, but you do your best not to let anyone see. You try to blink away the moisture, to keep it together. You can’t. You won’t.
“Y/N, I—” Seo-jun starts, his voice hesitant, reaching for you.
"Save it." you snap, harshly, not letting him finish his sentence. He falters at your glare, watching turn and walk straight for the barracks, not even sparing a second glance in his direction.
Your body, with blood, not yours, and the dog tag around your hands swaying with every step.
"Give her space. She did it herself. Again." Do-hyun’s voice is softer, almost reluctant, as he watches you retreat. His eyes follow you, lost in thought.
Maybe it’s because you’re a woman and they’re all men, or maybe because you’ve always been the youngest, they've known you since you were much younger. Or maybe it’s the fact that they’ve never seen you crack, never once seen you break down when they all have at one point or another. After all these years, when they themselves had crumbled, you always seemed to keep it together. You always did. First... they admired how strong you were—physically, emotionally, mentally—and even envied it at times but as time went on, they started to realise something.
The empty look in your eyes—it's haunting. They all knew what you did for them, what you'd sacrificed.
Ji-ho pats Seo-jun’s shoulder, his face mixed with understanding and exhaustion. He points his head toward the door, a silent suggestion to let you have your space.
You stepped inside the massive military tent, the hum of conversations halting as everyone’s gaze turned toward you. You noticed someone even take a hesitant step back, eyes widening.
"I'm not fucking bitten," You didn't pause to explain further. You couldn’t. Instead, you kept walking, ignoring the stares, the whispers that you could practically feel on your skin. You didn't care, walking past the soldiers, the stares heavy on your back. You made your way to your assigned makeshift door, pulling it open and stepping inside.
The small room felt like the only place you could breathe. The bathroom was the next thing you could think of.
Once inside, you slumped onto the cold, unforgiving floor. Your face landed near the toilet, and before you brace yourself, your stomach churned. The contents from your day—what little you had managed to eat—came up violently. It kept going, feeling your body betray you as your throat burned, as your muscles contracted in spasms. The bile, bitter taste, nausea kept pushing until your stomach was empty and you felt nothing but raw, aching emptiness.
You dry your mouth with the back of your filthy hand, smell of blood still lingering in your nostrils. The memory of it—of what you'd seen, what you just did—threatened to send you over the edge again. You fought the urge to gag.
You knew it wasn’t something Seo-jun should be explaining for. He called you earlier, sounding like he wanted to apologize, wanted to make sure you were okay. But you didn’t want to tell him everything was fine. Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what was waiting for you inside that damned place. He didn’t know the hundreds of the dead you'd have to face. He tried his best too, just like you did. But none of that mattered.
Killing is easy. You had convinced yourself that—it was something you could do without blinking now. Maybe you could even kill with the same ease as walking a dog in the park, that it could become second nature.
You killed someone who had just started to make you wonder—what question they would be asking you after the mission. Something small, something so... human. With your own hands. No real reason. No justification. For the sake of getting equipment. You killed him.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
With effort, you flushed the toilet, then let your body slide back to the nearest wall. Once it was done, you let yourself slump back against the nearest wall, Your fingers digging into your face as if you could erase the last few hours just by pressing hard enough. Sweat, cold and clammy, trickled down your forehead.
"Y/N," came a voice from outside the door.
Captain Joon. You didn't respond. You didn’t even move. "Rest," he said, his voice softer than usual, "You're needed for another mission after a couple of hours. Rest, fix yourself, and take a bath."
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"Did you just take a bath?" Taehyun asked, seeing Beomgyu’s damp hair, towel draped around his neck, few droplets of water still clinging to his skin.
Beomgyu nodded, not even looking up from the crackers he was munching on.
"Again?"
"You got a problem with that?" Beomgyu’s house slipper flew through the air toward Taehyun’s. It was effortlesly dodged.
"Why are you taking a bath three times a day?"
Beomgyu shrugged, gaze finally lifting to meet Taehyun's. "There's nothing else to do,"
Taehyun paused, small ache in his chest upon the words. Being an idol, he knew well the activities—packed schedules, comebacks, fan events, concerts. It never stopped. Hell, he could not even remember the last time he’d celebrated his birthday with his family.
Beomgyu exhaled sharply, "It's been four days… You think our families are okay out there?"
Every day now was a reminder—waking up to the reality of the virus outbreak, everything at a stop.
"They should be," Taehyun replied, though he didn’t feel as sure as he sounded. "We're the ones stuck here."
Beomgyu didn’t answer, instead shuffling his trash away. Just then, Kai appeared from the bathroom, face slack with disappointment.
"Guys, the water’s stopped."
Yeonjun jumped from his seat, rushing to check the sinks, only to find no water coming out. "Shit."
Beomgyu bit his lip, frustration bubbling inside him. Just when things couldn’t seem to get worse. The isolation, the fear—it was all becoming too much now. It's growing every day. He stood up, ignoring Soobin’s frantic voice as he tried to save whatever little water they had left.
He shut himself in his room, the door clicking softly behind him. His eyes wandered to the small house model his family had made for him—a little reminder of home, something he would look at whenever he needed to feel close to them. He collapsed onto his unmade bed, staring blankly at the white ceiling, his thoughts made up mix of thoughts and scenarios. Maybe there was a miracle out there—something, anything, to change this.
Minutes passed in silence before Beomgyu’s voice broke the stillness. "I hope there’s an angel out there. Someone who’ll come get us… get me. Out here, to a safe place." His heart thudded painfully in his chest—he knew no one would ever hear those words, but he couldn’t help but hope.
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You slowly make your way toward the apartment complex, the team had decided to move under the cover of darkness again—it drew fewer infected and lowered the chances of running into trouble. At least that’s what your team hoped for.
The freshly laundered combat uniform felt like it was made for you. The black fabric, almost matte, clung to your body, moving with you as if it were a second skin. Your boots, worn but sturdy, held you grounded. Each step was sure. They gave you that solid grip. On your hips, the twin knives sat, steel blades catching the light with a faint, almost imperceptible gleam. Your hair was pulled back, tight in a high knot. Not a strand is out of place.
The mission was clear: rescue the five A-list boys trapped in this building, ever since the outbreak began.
Hybe, was the one who went to the military for help. They couldn’t exactly say no to them—so here you are, walking into a situation you can’t quite predict.
Six of you, without Beom-seok to secure the vehicle on the road as usual—all armed and ready, step closer to the entrance of the block—though you spot a few infected lingering around, they’re silently dealt with. A knife to the head, no noise, no struggle—just clean and quick.
Your captain’s biggest worry is the location. The middle of the city. So many people in such a small space can only mean one thing—too many infected. It’s a risk, but it’s the job. That is exactly why these people are stuck here in the first place. No help has been able to get through until your team was sent in.
"It's here," Eun-woo says, pointing toward the stairs in the corner. He folds the marked map and tucks it away. Captain Joon nods, "One by one. Be aware of your surroundings."
Everyone gives a tight nod, moving quickly to follow his instructions. You scanned every corner, every shadow. You don’t miss a thing. There are a few infected nearby, but they have not noticed you. So long as they don’t see or hear, and you’re far enough, you’ll be fine.
Earlier, it was also clear that most of the infected in this area are concentrated in the outer courtyard. It looks like the people who lived here panicked, tried to escape out there, drawing all the infected away from the apartment complex itself. It’s eerily quiet now, almost too quiet.
You reach the door to apartment 304, and the rest of your team spreads out, covering all sides of the hallway. You catch your breath, scanning both directions again, alert to any movement. Someone begins to knock on the door. Minutes tick by, but there’s no answer.
"Are they fucking asleep?" Ji-ho whispers, his voice sharp with impatience.
"What do you expect?" you snap,"You think they’re awake at this hour, just waiting for us to show up?" The words feel bitter, but you don’t care. "Move,"
Before you can even make a move toward the door, a voice breaks the silence. It's soft, hesitant, almost as if the person speaking is scared to even let the words out.
"Who’re you?"
Kai had been just about to head to the bathroom for a quick piss when he heard it—an soft rattle against the door.
It’s been days, days, since there was any sound from the other side. Complete silence. So hearing something now, especially in the dead of night, made his blood run cold.
Someone’s trying to break in?
He freezes, mind racing. Slowly, he walks towards the door, arms out in front of him, keeping a little distance like it might somehow help. His breath is shallow as he inches closer to the small peephole in the door, just enough to get a glimpse.
Soobin made him promise not to go near the door, but he won’t know. He’s asleep, anyway.
There are people out there. No, not just people—soldiers? At least three men and a woman, he's not really sure, but they're standing and staring straight at their door. He can’t make out their words, sound too muffled, but he can tell they’re muttering something under their breath, heads tilted as if they’re listening too.
Woah. She’s… really pretty.
Kai immediately shakes his head. Focus. Now is not the time to be thinking about how pretty she is. She’s out there, trying to break the door down. Or… is she?
What if they’re the ones sent to rescue us?
He squints through the crack in the door again, taking in the soldiers’ uniforms. They’re military. That has to mean something—and waking the others would take too long. He swallows hard, asking the question.
"Who’re you?"
"Open the door," Captain Joon says, his voice firm and immediate. "We've come to help you." There’s no reply from the other side.
"Manager Jisoo. Hybe."
There’s a sound of the lock turning, and the door creaks open just a crack. It’s dim inside. The air inside hits you. Smells faintly of candles—probably because there’s no electricity to rely on anymore. One by one, everyone got ready to move inside. You turned your head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the person who had opened it.
He looked young—his skin pale and features sharp, with a foreign look. His bangs messily hung over his eyes, longer than he probably intended. Your eyes met his, and just as quickly, he looked away. Great. You all must have really scared him—heavily armed, arriving at his dorm in the dead of night.
"We're all coming in, Son," Captain Joon said, gaze flicking to the boy’s face, silently asking for permission—though he did not really need it. You were here to rescue them, to bring everyone back. Whether they were ready or not, you were going in. "What's your name?"
He nodded and opened the door wider. "Heuningkai. Kai is fine."
"How many of you are still in here?"
"Five. Uh, I’ll need to wake everyone up first."
"Go on." You took in the space they had been holed up in. Everything screamed lived in. Floors wooden tiles. It was clean, considering men were living in this place. Some sweaters were carelessly tossed over the couch, an Uno card sat beside it, random orange peels and a few glass mugs were scattered across the table. But aside from that, everything seemed… orderly. Something about this space made you feel out of place.
"Could you please wait here?" Kai stopped after taking a few steps away from your team. The front door shut behind. You glanced at him as he spoke, and you saw it—his face.
It was almost like he was afraid that if he turned around, everyone would just... leave.
He didn’t give anyone a chance to respond. Without another word, he turned and headed for the nearest door. You took in the hallway—six doors in total. One of them was probably the bathroom, and the rest, you guessed, must be their rooms.
Kai walks in, still feeling the embarrassment creeping up his neck. He did not mean to pout or sound so desperate in front of everyone—it just kind of happened.
The whole outbreak had him on edge all the time. It wasn’t like him at all. But now, for the first time in a while, he's starting to see hope. And with that came a fear he hadn’t expected.
He shuts the door behind him, eyes flick to Soobin, who’s sprawled out on the bed in his usual weird sleeping position. One arm thrown over his face, legs tangled in the sheets like he’s trying to escape them.
If anything, it’s comforting to see Soobin still so… Soobin.
"Wake up," Kai says, giving Soobin’s arm a little shake. There’s no response. "Soobin,"
He just mumbles something unintelligible and stays still. With a sigh, Kai slaps the flesh of Soobin's thigh—a trick he’s learned always works when he's in deep sleep.
"Shi—Kai?" The latter groans, blinking his eyes open. He winces slightly, almost about to curse, but then he notices the younger one standing there, looking a little shaken, and his protective instinct kicks in. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"They’re here. They—the help. They’re outside. I let them in." The older man shot up, his mind struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep. For days, he'd been waiting for this moment, but now that it was here, he could hardly believe it.
Soobin looked at Kai’s face, searching for any sign of bluffness. None.
"Wake everyone up, Kai. I’ll, I'll talk to them. Good job," he said, his voice thick with a mix of urgency and something else—nervousness, maybe. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to steady his racing heart.
The younger gave a quick nod, already rising to carry out the task.
Soobin hesitated for a moment, then followed, his feet heavier than usual. When he stepped out of his room, the sight hit him. Soldiers.
All dressed in black, standing almost stiffly in the cramped living room, as if they did not know where to place themselves, presence filling every corner. They looked out of place—one man was sitting, looking collected. He was much older—maybe in his late 40s—and when he saw Soobin, he stood up too, moving with authority.
"Hello," Soobin said, bowing deeply. He wished his voice to be normal, but it cracked. His eyes stung, and he blinked, trying to hold back the tears likely to spill. These people—they look so capable.
How desperately he’d needed them.
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"I know it's late, but we need to move now. It’ll make things easier for us," Captain Joon started.
Everyone had gathered in the living room now—eleven people, all listening. A large map was spread out on the table in front of them, marked with lines and notes. "We’ve got a cargo truck on standby, and someone guarding it. Waiting for us,"
You leaned against the wall at the back, trying to stay out of the way. Your long gun resting to your right side. You crossed your arms, observing them all, taking in the scene. These five—when they first arrived, you’d seen it clearly: that fleeting, unguarded emotion that flashed across their faces. Relief? Fear?
Your thoughts drifted for a moment, the hum of voices fading, when suddenly you caught something. One of them was looking at you. You met his gaze, and for a second, neither of you moved. His eyes were a soft brown, almost warm, framed by dark hair that was swept back but still fell messily across his forehead. His jaw was sharp, yet there was something almost delicate about it. Something… soft.
You raised an eyebrow at him, just a slight challenge, and he blinked, startled. He bowed his head in your direction awkwardly—before you could return it, his eyes darted away quickly. Followed by a deep shade of red that crept into the tips of his ears.
He didn’t look back at you again—as though he couldn’t look at you a second longer.
Little did you know, when you weren’t paying attention, his eyes would steal a few more glances in your direction, each one shorter, but no less curious.
"We'll travel this way, and you all will be dropped off here at this camp, as requested. Understand?"
"And, we can just bring a backpack each?" Soobin asks, looking around the group. He’d introduced himself as the leader earlier.
"That doesn't mean you can just throw anything in there," you replied, finally speaking up, giving your first words tonight. "Keep it light. Only pack what you really need." Captain Joon gave a slight nod, acknowledging your point.
"Got it,"
"While we're at it," Captain Joon continued, “since we’ll be traveling together, it’s probably best you get to know the people you’ll be with. Just in case something goes wrong.” The mention of anything happening seemed to linger in the air. The five of them had never seen an infected before. You all know that can cause problems.
"As you probably already know, I'm the Captain of this team," Joon said, he shot a quick glance at you before going on.
"Park Y/N," he nodded in your direction, "our engineer sergeant. She’s the one who builds stuff, blows stuff up—whatever needs doing, really. She's my second-in-command."
Beomgyu has a valid reason to look at you now. And when he thought he never be more mesmerized, somehow, he was.
Earlier, when he first stumbled out of bed and woken by Kai, he wandered into the living room, still half-dazed. He was caught off guard on how… beautiful you were. He’d seen soldiers, sure, but you? You were different. You looked like you belonged on a magazine cover—not out here, in the middle of a hellscape.
How are you, not a celebrity? he wonders, half-wanting to slap himself. How are you so beautiful, standing here, in the middle of this nightmare? The strangest thing, though, was the pull in his chest—even though he’d only just learned your name. Even your name—sounds pretty.
"Do-hyun," Joon said, pointing to a man near you, "he's in charge of our comms—makes sure we stay connected. Keeps the radios running, that sort of thing." Do-hyun gave a lazy salute, a smirk playing on his lips.
"That’s Eun-woo and Ji-ho," Joon went on, pointing to two others standing with confidence. "They’re our weapons experts—know every damn thing about fixing, maintaining, and using all our weapons. They also take inventory, make sure we’re stocked up when we need to move out."
"And then there's Seo-jun," Joon said, nodding toward a tall, figure standing slightly apart from the rest like you. "Does the planning, the strategizing. And last but not least, Beom-seok. He’s the one left behind—our medic.”
"You can pack now. We'll wait here. We’ve got food rations on the truck, so you can eat there." Captain Joon finally ends the conversation.
The five of them stand up and start making their way to their rooms.
Beomgyu exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. The air feels lighter as he steps into his room. They're finally getting out here.
He stands in front of his closet for a few seconds, unsure of what to grab first. He picks up his backpack and starts shuffling through his things—some clothes, and his hygiene kit that Taehyun had already packed for him. He opens his drawer and realizes he’ll need to change out of his pajamas. A plain shirt, some cargo pants, his jacket… and where the hell are his boots? Before he can finish, he hears the door creak open.
"Beomgyu," Yeonjun’s says. "That chick’s really cute."
Beomgyu freezes, his hand mid-reach for his shoes. He blinks and turns to face Yeonjun. "Have you packed your stuff, or do you think we’ve got all the time in the world?"
Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, looking slightly taken aback. "Geez, chill. Why are you being so mad?"
Beomgyu hesitates. He doesn’t really know. It could be the way Yeonjun had interrupted his packing, or maybe… maybe it’s because Yeonjun’s casually saying something like that. Beomgyu feels something twist in his stomach.
Yeonjun thinks you’re pretty. He doesn’t know how to deal with that.
"'M sorry,"
Yeonjun watches him closely. "Was it because of what I said—"
"No."
A knock sounds on the door. Both of them turn toward it. Eun-woo peeks his head inside, his expression casual. "We're just waiting for the two of you, and then we're off."
"Let's go,"
The only sound is the steady rhythm of feet against the ground. Your team is spread out, moving in a loose pattern. Captain Joon, Seo-jun, and Ji-ho take the lead, scanning the surroundings. Soobin and Kai walk close behind, hand in hand. Taehyun and Beomgyu follow next, then Yeonjun.
You, along with Do-hyun and Eun-woo, bring up the rear. It’s all going smoothly. You’re alert, watching the others, everything seems calm—until you notice Yeonjun. He’s suddenly still, his body frozen in place. You glance over and follow his line of sight.
In the open space ahead, a small group of infected wander aimlessly. Movements are jerky, unnatural, and the growls that escape their throats are low and guttural. One of them is lying on the ground, its torso half severed, intestine out, but its arms are still twitching, dragging itself forward in a grotesque imitation of life.
Yeonjun’s breathing stops entirely, his chest barely rising and falling. He’s staring at them, wide-eyed, body tense. You step up and place a hand on his shoulder. The touch makes him flinch.
"Shhh," you whisper, barely audible. The last thing you need right now is anyone making noise. One sound, one slip-up, and the infected will be on you. "Move. Eyes front—Don't… do not look at them."
He does not respond at first, you’re not even sure if he’s even hearing you. His eyes check the infected again, then back to the ground. He swallows. Finally, he nods, voice tight, "Yeah."
You give him a push on the back, enough to get him moving. It was a relief to see Yeonjun walking. You exhaled slowly, locking eyes with Do-hyun. He'd seen it all. That look between you two was enough to say it all: they weren’t ready for this. They hadn’t been told nearly enough.
Everyone kept walking, the building’s echoing silence wrapping around you as you neared the first level. It wasn’t far now—just out the main door, across the block, and then Beom-seok would be waiting for you on the road. The end was in sight.
"Shit!" Soobin’s voice is loud, his hands pressed against his chest in surprise. He hadn’t expected it. A woman, infected, eyes wide open, slumped lifelessly in a chair in the lobby. Her body was barely recognizable, rotting, the decay setting in.
No one moved. You spun around, doubt kicking in, scanning the lobby for any movement. Kai gripped Soobin’s hand tighter, his fingers digging in just enough. Soobin looked at him—a silent apology, a promise to do better.
It was only a minute, before Captain Joon finally moved. You stepped out of the building, the fresh air hitting you in a way that almost felt too good. The five newcomers, still adjusting to the chaos, kept their gazes fixed ahead, careful not to glance at the herd gathering in the open space nearby.
Then you saw him—Beom-seok. Leaning against the tires on the road, his eyes sweeping the distance, waiting. "Took you long enough," Beom-seok mutters, his eyes looking at you as he watches you approach.
One by one, everyone began climbing into the truck. Ji-ho caught your eye, giving you a quick signal to get in.
"Yeah? Are you bored or something?" Seo-jun shoots back, his tone teasing.
You gripped Ji-ho's hand, pulling yourself up the tall cargo bed. You paused, glancing down at Taehyun and offering your hand. He grasped it firmly, and with one smooth pull, you helped him up. He meets your gaze and gives a nod, a thank you.
Beomgyu was next, and Ji-ho was beside you, helping Yeonjun up. Kai and Soobin were already settled inside chatting quietly, and the truck was starting to feel a little more like a secure place.
You let your hand fall, but it only took a second for Beomgyu to extend his own.
Soft. Warm. It feels different somehow.
Beomgyu feels your hand—still shielded by your tactical gloves, but with the fingertips exposed. Even through the fabric, he can feel the warmth of your skin. It’s subtle, and for some reason, it’s enough to make his heart beat a little faster. You gripped his hand, pulling him up with the same ease as you did with Taehyun.
He’s finally out—the one they’d been stuck in, waiting, starving. Water was running low, food was practically gone and no electricity. It’s been days. Time blurred together in there. He’d tried his hardest not to let his emotions spill over, even when his mind kept replaying all the times he’d imagined getting out. All the moments he’d prayed for this. And now, it’s real.
He's here.
"Thank you," Beomgyu whispers, he hopes that somehow, those two words are enough for you to know.
"Sure,"
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Beomgyu smiles wider as the fresh scent of grass hits his face. It’s a smell he never thought he’d miss, now it feels like a luxury—something he never realized how much he took for granted until now.
He turns his head to look at you, he feels his heart settle. Your head slightly leaned back against the rail, eyes closed in peaceful sleep. He fights the urge to nudge the soldier sitting next to you and tell him to move so you can rest your head somewhere more comfortable. He notices a shift in your face. Your brows furrow—a small frown begins to start on your forehead. Beomgyu's smile fade. The sight of you looking troubled, unsettles him for some reason.
Then, with no warning, the vehicle comes to a sudden halt, throwing everyone forward. It awakes you, and your eyes snap open, hands reaching for your gun.
"What now?" Eun-woo asks, stepping toward the window that connects to the driver's area, his voice tight with concern. You follow his gaze and your stomach drops. A fire. A huge fire, raging up ahead. And it looks like it's right where your team was supposed to drop off.
Yeonjun holds his nose at the smell of burning, smoke.
"Didn’t you radio them, Do-hyun?"
"I did, before we started heading back, Captain," You start mentally counting the minutes—five people eating, the time it took to pack up, and the drive back. It couldn’t have been more than two hours.
Two hours, and the fire’s already this big. "What happens now?" You hear Kai ask himself.
You don't have to look for long to spot them. Infected. They’re coming toward your truck—more than you can count. A mass of tumbling bodies, moving fast.
"Captain!" you shout, your voice sharp. "They are coming. Too many of them." Your words startle everyone in the truck.
Beom-seok’s hands twitch on the steering wheel, nerves on edge as he maneuvers the truck. His mind races, unsure of the next move. Where the hell should we go?
"Head for the nearest camp," Captain Joon orders, "Do-hyun, can you get through to them?"
"I'm trying," Do-hyun responds, fingers moving over the radio—silence greets him in return. The truck moves, and all of you watch the infected, filling the road behind.
Beomgyu watches the infected, slow, stumbling figures moving toward the vehicle. He knows they wont catch up—he knows they cant outrun it—still, his stomach churns.
"Are you okay?" Soobin asks, voice soft. He saw Beomgyu’s face when he locked eyes with the dead. "Try not to look at them," he suggests. It’s what Soobin does—keep his eyes away.
Beomgyu gives a shrug. "Isn’t avoiding them just going to make it worse?" he says, eyes still glued to the decaying figures. "I mean, I would like to be able to look at them without feeling like I’m about to throw up."
Soobin sighs, "We are getting out of here. Hybe did not let these people get us just to leave us hanging. There’s gotta be a place somewhere. Maybe we’ll even be able to go home, see our families again."
Beomgyu’s throat tightens at the mention of family, he swallows the feeling down. "What if we don’t, though?" he murmurs, "You saw the fire at the camp we were supposed to be at. Do you really think we’d have made it out? If we got there earlier…. do your really think we would have survived?"
Soobin’s heart clench at the question, he can't bring himself to answer. He does not want to think about it, but he knows Beomgyu’s right. Everything had seemed okay—until that overrun camp. The silence stretches, loud with unspoken fears.
Beomgyu’s hand starts picking at his nails, his gaze unfocused. "What if there’s no safe place left?" His voice cracks,trying his hardest not to think about his family.
"Stop." It’s you. You had been close enough to hear their whispers. "I’ll let you know if there’s no place anymore. Until I do, don’t think about it."
Beomgyu looks up at you, meeting your eyes for a moment. And just like that, the heaviness inside him lifts—just a little.
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The vehicle comes to a halt by the side of the road, dust kicking up as the engine sputters off. Captain Joon looks ahead, eyes narrowing at the said camp he has in mind. It’s about a ten-minute walk from here.
"Still no response, Captain," Do-hyun reports, his fingers pressing anxiously on the radio. "Should I try reaching out to other units? They're farther out, but I can give it a shot."
Captain Joon does not look at him, eyes fixed ahead. "You can do that later. For now, we need to check this site first." He pauses, "It’s not wise for all of us to go. These five civilians stay here with a couple of you, the rest of us will move out."
Beomgyu catches the glint of your fingers as you reach for your gun, checking the magazine, clicking it back and then tightening your boot laces. There's no need for more words. The message is clear. You're going out, you're checking the place. You’re not going to sit around and wait.
"Y/N," Captain Joon calls out as you start climbing down from the cargo bed.
“I’m going with you,” you say, already strapping your gun across your shoulder. Without waiting for a response, you take a few long strides,, scanning the fields around you. The tall grass sways gently in the breeze. A few of the soldiers start following suit—Eun-woo, Ji-ho, and you catch the sound of their boots as they move behind you.
Captain Joon strides past, and you follow him, your boots crunching against the dry earth.
Beomgyu watches, his eyes never leaving your form as you move further into the distance. He can hear Yeonjun’s sigh beside him, but it did not make him look away. Instead, he counts under his breath, doing everything he can to keep you in sight until you’re too far to see.
The truck was quiet, the minutes stretching on as the remaining soldiers outside paced back and forth, keeping watch.
“I’m worried about Hiyyih,” Kai said suddenly, breaking the silence. His words drew the attention of the older guys around him, all seated close by.
“Do you think she got rescued too?” Kai asked, voice quieter now. “Or maybe…she made it out to Seoul when everything went like this?”
Taehyun reached over, giving the youngest's head a soft pat. “She is okay, Kai,” he said, “Once we get to the camp, we can ask the Captain,”
“Yeah,”
“Stop stressing about it, though,” Yeonjun chimed in, “We will figure it out soon enough.” Soobin stayed quiet, gaze fixed on some distant thought.
“They’re back,” Beomgyu said, his gaze darting between the road and the distant figures coming into view. He kept watching, squinting to make out their shapes as they got closer. Minutes passed, and the faces became clear: Captain Joon, two other soldiers… and you.
“They’re fewer than we expected,” Captain Joon announced as he reached the group, his voice steady but grim. “The camp’s still standing. We’ll spend the night there and wait for further instructions.” His words weighed heavy in the air. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay composed.
When you entered the place, the sight was sobering. Just over half a dozen soldiers were left. The others, you were told, had been sent out on missions—and none of their teams had returned. You shook the thoughts away, chalking it up to exhaustion. Fatigue was setting in, and all you wanted was a shower and some sleep. For now, this camp would have to do.
Adjusting the straps of your backpack, you glanced around and saw everyone gathering their belongings. You opened your gun case and checked the magazines, counting each one carefully. “We’ll need to do inventory soon,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.
Beomgyu caught your words and looked over, his eyes flicking from your face to the black case cradling the weapons.
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Arriving at the camp on foot felt like walking into a ghost town. The only sign of life was… the small group of soldiers waiting, their tired eyes, makes the place feel even emptier. Captain Joon started barking orders, assigning tents to everyone. Your mind was fixed on one thing: rest.
“I’m going to shower and sleep. Wake me if I’m needed,” you told the captain, walking past him as he gave you a quick nod.
You headed to your tent, overhearing the arrangements for the five civilians. They’d be taking turns in the showers, then each also having a small tent of their own. Your own shelter was small, just as you’d expected. You set your things down, pulling out what you needed for the shower.
The shower area was sectioned off with a heavy curtain, its edges swaying slightly in the breeze. You pushed it aside and stepped in, letting the cool water wash over you. The sensation of the water running down your back. After finishing your routine, you reached for a towel and your robe. Once you’d changed into a clean military shirt and loose pants, you stepped outside, your hair still damp.
The camp was quiet, save for the crackle of a small fire in the center. A few soldiers sat around it—Yeonjun was eating, with Beomgyu and Taehyun seated beside him. Soobin, walking toward them, caught your gaze and gave you a respectful bow. Kai was likely in the showers, taking his turn.
Back at your tent, you dried your hair—hitting the makeshift pillow, your eyes drifted shut. It was harder to sleep that night.
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Beomgyu jolted awake to the sharp crack of a gunshot. His chest tightened as he gasped, sitting up abruptly in the darkness.
BANG.
Another shot echoed through the camp, louder this time. He instinctively covered his ears, his heart pounding in his chest. The sound was close—too close. A flurry of gunfire followed, chaotic and all over the place. He froze as a shadow darted past the thin walls of his tent. His hands trembled as he forced himself to stand.
He fumbled for his pants, pulling them on as another scream tore through the night, quickly silenced by another gunshot. His mind raced. Should he go outside? Should he stay hidden?
Soobin. Yeonjun. Taehyun. Kai.
You.
The names rang in his head snapped him. He peeked through a small gap in the tent’s fabric, his breath hitching at the sight outside. Strangers—men he hadn’t seen earlier—moved through the camp. One of them hefted a sack of supplies over his shoulder, while others fired wildly at the soldiers.
Bandits?
The realization hit hard. These men were fighting the soldiers stationed at the camp, gunfire exchanged in rapid bursts. Beomgyu swallowed hard. His tent was further out than the others, which gave him a sliver of cover, but he knew he had to move. As he stepped out of his tent, a bullet zipped past him, close enough to feel the air shift against his cheek. He flinched, his heart hammering in his chest.
“What the—”
A scream drew his attention. A bandit, snarling and swinging his weapon, was overwhelmed by an infected lunging at him from the side. The sight froze Beomgyu in place, fear rooting him to the spot.
A hand clamped over his mouth, silencing the scream that threatened to escape. He turned sharply, eyes wide, only to see you staring back at him.
“We’re leaving. Or we’re dead,” you whispered, your voice urgent but low. Beomgyu hesitated, glancing toward the other tents. He wanted to go to the others, to check if they were okay, but you tightened your grip on his wrist, stopping him.
“They will see you,” you hissed. Behind you, the infected were starting to swarm the camp, drawn by the gunfire. Beomgyu felt a lump rise in his throat. Your hand dropped from his mouth, and you tugged on his wrist, shoving him back toward his tent. “Grab your things. Be fast.”
Beomgyu stumbled inside, adrenaline coursing through him as he grabbed his backpack. He hadn’t even unpacked yet, telling himself earlier he’d do it in the morning. Now, it didn’t matter. There wasn’t going to be a morning if he stayed.
When he stepped back out, you were watching the bandits, your jaw clenched. He noticed your backpack already slung over your shoulder. The white shirt you’d worn earlier was still visible beneath a hastily thrown-on jacket, paired with cargo pants and sturdy boots.
“Come on,” You started moving, weaving through the shadows with practiced steps. Beomgyu followed—heart heavy and torn as he glanced back toward the other tents.
His four brothers weren’t with him.
Beomgyu’s feet ached with every step. He had been trailing behind you for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than fifty minutes. Your strides were quick, far faster than he could have imagined for someone with shorter legs than his. He had no idea where you were leading him, and the darkness of the woods only made it worse.
Shadows stretched long between the trees, and every crackle of leaves underfoot made his heart jump. But then you turned back to look at him, your face briefly influenced by the moon's light—it was just a quick check to make sure he was still behind—and somehow that was enough to keep him moving.
Finally, you stopped in front of a towering tree. Its trunk was wide and strong, the kind that seemed to have stood for centuries. You tilted your head up to inspect it, then turned back to him. “This will do. We’ll climb up here,”
Beomgyu blinked, his gaze sweeping nervously between you and the tree. Climbing? He had never climbed a tree before—not even as a kid. But the alternative—staying on the ground, exposed to the infected, or people that might be lurking—was far worse.
“O-okay,” The two of you did not know where you were going—or how far you still had to go—but at least up here, you could catch your breath. He watched as you point toward the bark, signaling for him to go first.
“Here,” you said, tapping a sturdy-looking notch just above your reach. “Put your foot here.”
“You sure it’ll hold?”
“It will, trust me.”
Beomgyu swallowed hard and placed his foot on the notch. It felt solid, but the uneven texture of the bark made him wobble slightly. He grabbed the trunk for balance, his fingers scraping against the rough surface. “Here, grab this branch,” you guided him, pointing to a solid-looking limb.
The bark was rough, but he held on, his muscles trembling. The tree swayed just a little under his weight, the rustling leaves made him think that the whole thing might give way. But it didn’t. With a grunt, he hoisted himself, settling into a spot that felt stable enough to hold him. The height gave him an odd sense of relief—He looked down at you, his fear replaced by a grin.
“This is so cool,” The horrors of the night melted away. You smirked, shaking your head as you reached for the first branch, beginning your own ascent. Beomgyu’s gaze stayed on you, his hands hovering slightly as if wanting to help but unsure how.
When you were nearly at his level, reaching for a branch to pull yourself up, the wood suddenly gave way with a sharp crack. Making you slip. “Shit!” Beomgyu lunged toward you, his hands finding your elbow just in time. “I-I—What do I do?!”
“Can you not panic like you’re the one about to fall?” you snapped, though your voice lacked real bite.
“Right!” he stammered, his grip tightening. You grasped his other outstretched arm, and with one strong pull, he managed to haul you up. The force of it sent you toppling forward, landing squarely against him. For a second, everything went still. Beomgyu’s breath hitched as he looked up at you, your face inches from his.
You could feel the warmth of his body against your chest, see the subtle freckles and barely-there moles on his skin that you hadn’t noticed before. His gaze flickered to your lips.
In a swift motion, you pushed yourself off him—brushing the dust and bits of bark from your clothes, you avoided his eyes. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.
An hour had passed since the two of you settled. Your back leaned towards the tree and for a brief moment, you let your eyes close, though your mind raced.
Plans. Risks. Next steps.
“What’s the next plan?”
You opened your eyes, exhaling softly. “I’m planning to check back at the camp once the sun’s up,” you said after a moment. “From a distance. The infected were drawn to the gunfire, so I doubt they’ll stay there. But I need to see what’s left.”
Beomgyu nodded, “We should see if there’s anyone still there. Maybe stuck or hiding.”
You glanced at him and adjusted the rifle slung across your chest. The weight of the handgun in your pocket and the knives strapped to your thighs felt heavier.
“We’ll try to track them too,” you said, then added quietly, “Or you could stay here and wait for me.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Okay.”
Silence fell between you again, interrupted only by the faint rustle of leaves. Beomgyu broke it with a sudden thought. “I can’t believe people can kill each other just like that,” he said, voice with disbelief.
The words made you pause. Your eyes, previously shut, opened fully, and you turned your head slightly toward him. But you said nothing. “Why did they do that?” Beomgyu asked, his tone softer now.
You didn’t respond. Instead, you looked away, avoiding his gaze. His eyes—they were too brown, too soft for a world like this. When the silence stretched too long, he shifted uncomfortably, his ears flushing red. “I… I wanna thank you. For bringing me with you,” he said, shyly. “Thank you, Y/N.”
“Sleep,” you said, brushing his gratitude aside. “I’ll keep watch.”
“I do think I can,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. "I swear I can still hear the gunshots in my ears.” You sighed. Sleep wasn’t an option for you either.
Beomgyu hesitated before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”
“You already did,”
His face flushed deeper. “I mean… another question.”
When you didn’t respond, he continued, “Why are you the only woman in your team?”
Your eyes flicked to him, one brow raising slightly. “Are you implying there shouldn’t be one?”
“No! God, no,” he said quickly, his hands flailing slightly as he stumbled over his words. “I mean, it’s just—wow. It’s amazing.”
“That a woman can do a man’s job?”
“No—yes—no!” Beomgyu groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just mean, like… it’s impressive. Especially since women aren’t even required to go through military service. But here you are, and you’re killing it—uh, not literally—well, maybe literally, but—”
You studied his flustered face for a moment before cutting him off, “I get it,” you said, watching as relief washed over him. “I think I was just… born for this. I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”
“That’s… cool,” he murmured, nodding slowly. You hummed, leaning your head back against the tree.
“I don’t think I can imagine myself doing anything else either,” Beomgyu said, thoughtful. He stared at his hands, a small smile tugging at his lips. You watched him for a second longer than you meant to.
“That’s cool,” you echoed his words, earning a laugh from him. His smile widened, his laugh soft but real, and it lit up the darkness around you. Even his laugh—
It made you look away, your chest tightening. His smile—it was dangerous.
Beomgyu turned his gaze to you, studying your profile. The way your lashes caught the faint moonlight. Beautiful, he thought.
“How old were you when you joined the military?” he asked, randomly. Your expression froze, startled by the question.
“What?”
“I mean, if it’s okay to ask,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his tone careful. “You don’t have to—”
You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat. That question—it wasn’t one you wanted to answer again. Not now. Not ever.
“Close your eyes and rest,” you said flatly, “We’re done talking. The dead might hear us.”
The other one's face fell.
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The sunlight was warm against Beomgyu's face, pulling him from his sleep. He blinked a few times, squinting at the brightness, trying to shake off his muzzy state.
"Hey, sleeping beauty." You say, "If you want to come, we need to go. Now."
He turned to see you already packing up, tossing a protein bar his way without looking. He barely caught it, fumbling it in his hands before managing a weak, “Thanks.”
"Let's go." You unscrewed your water bottle and took a quick drink before slinging your gear over your shoulder. Without waiting for him to respond, you started climbing down from the tree. Beomgyu followed, the descent easier than the nerve-wracking climb up last night, his legs still felt stiff from the awkward position he’d slept in. His feet hit the forest floor, and he took a deep breath. The woods in daylight were almost beautiful painting everything in shades of green.
He yawned, unwrapping his protein bar as he fell into step behind you. The two of you walked in silence, his eyes wandering over the scenery. It was hard to reconcile how peaceful the forest looked with the gnawing fear in his gut. About twenty minutes in, you suddenly stopped, your hand shooting up in a signal. Beomgyu, distracted, nearly walked into you.
“Infected,”
He followed your line of sight and spotted it—a man-shaped figure stumbling through the trees, its feet dragging awkwardly. The distance between you and it was still considerable.
Beomgyu glanced at you, his eyes wide. “How did you even see that?” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have noticed it until it was right in front of us.”
You ignored the question, “You haven't done this yet, so now’s the time to learn.”
Now, the words struck him awake. He’d known this was coming—he wasn’t naive—but he hadn’t expected it to be now. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we find, I don’t know, somewhere more open for this?” He couldn’t help the nervous edge in his voice. Just weeks ago, his biggest challenge was memorizing their group's choreography.
“This is the perfect place to practice,” you said, not bothering to look at him.
He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “I mean, I’m not scared or anything, but—”
“Scared?” you interrupted, finally turning to him with a raised eyebrow.
“No. Let’s just get it over with.”
You nodded, pulling a knife from your belt and handing it to him. The weight of it in his hand felt foreign. He stared at the blade, the black handle smooth, well maintained. His eyes caught the faint etching of your name on it.
“Grip it like this,” you said, adjusting his grip. Your hands were firm, guiding his fingers into place. “Keep your thumb here for control. When you strike, aim for the head and use enough force so you don’t have to do it twice.”
He nodded, his throat dry. "Go in when I say.”
The infected was closer now, its groans louder, its movements jerky and unnatural. You gestured for him to move to the left, opposite of where you were going. He obeyed, his steps hesitant.
You moved quickly, drawing its attention. Beomgyu couldn’t take his eyes off you as you circled it without second thoughts or any fear.With a sharp kick, you knocked its legs out from under it. The infected collapsed to its knees, and you pressed your boot into its back, holding it in place. “Come here,”
Beomgyu swallowed hard, the knife trembling in his hand as he approached.
“Kill it,” you instructed, tilting the infected’s head to expose its temple.
His heart pounded as he raised the knife. He brought it down, but his strike lacked strength, and blade only sank halfway in. The infected howled, its hands clawing weakly at the air. “Y/N, I—what do I—”
“Again,” you cut him off, grabbing his other hand and placing it on the knife. “Use both hands if you have to. Pull it out and try again. Harder this time.”
He did as you said, the knife coming free with a sickening squelch. Blood splattered onto his hands, warm and sticky, and he nearly gagged. Clenching his teeth, he raised the blade again and drove it down with all his strength. The groaning stopped, the infected falling silent.
You let the body slump to the ground, standing up as Beomgyu stumbled away, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He made it to the nearest tree before doubling over, the contents of his stomach spilling onto the forest floor.
Tears pricked at his eyes as he wiped his mouth. That infected—it wasn’t just a monster. It had been a person once, a living, breathing human being. Maybe they had a family waiting for them, a home filled with memories, or a life they’d worked hard to build. Maybe they’d been on a vacation or rushing to work the day the world fell apart.
Beomgyu’s breath hitched—he was the one who ended them, the one who took what little remained of their existence. He never imagined his life would come to this—how could he? Just a month ago, his world had been with roaring crowds, and music that echoed through stadiums. He’d been smiling at cameras, shooting music videos, and waving to fans who looked at him like he was untouchable, someone larger than life.
You crouched next to him, holding out a piece of cloth. He stared at your hand for a moment before taking it —your hands looked smaller than his, fragile—he wipes the blood on his trembling fingers.
How? How could you—manage to do all of this?
“You ended its suffering,” you said quietly, hesitant. “That’s how I try to think of it.”
“Does it get easier?”
“Never.”
It was just a single word, but somehow, it felt like a glimpse—Beomgyu feels closer. It felt like he knew you just a little bit better.
The two of you continued toward the overrun camp, the knife you’d lent Beomgyu still in his hands. For all the danger the weapon symbolized, it seemed to bring him a strange kind of comfort, his grip on it much more familiar.
Another walker crossed your path, Beomgyu stepped forward, more sure of himself this time. With just a little guidance from you, he managed to take it down.
Familiarity.
When you reached the backside of the camp, low growls echoed from ahead. Slowly, you leaned out to peek, careful not to make a sound. About a dozen infected, just as you expected.
And just as you'd predicted, the bandits had left too, leaving nothing behind but destruction. You moved, glancing over your shoulder to check on Beomgyu. He was scanning the area, his movements mirroring yours. That small action made your chest swell with pride.
He's learning. He's trying. And most of all, he's here—for his friends.
Together, you began checking the tents, moving smoothly and silently. Nothing. No survivors. But you found a few supplies—military rations, protein bars, ammo and some guns. Grabbing a duffel bag, you started packing up. Beomgyu helped in without hesitation.
Halfway through the camp, Beomgyu froze. His eyes locked on something ahead. That’s when you saw it too.
BEOMGYU, KAI, WE GOT OUT. WITH THE OTHERS. WE’RE HEADING TO THE JEONJU CAMP. STAY SAFE. SB, YJ, AND TH.
“They got out,” Beomgyu said, his voice breaking the silence. Relief washed over him, lifting some of the weight he’d been carrying. Kai wasn’t with them yet, but this was hope. He would find Kai too. He’d see this message too. “I knew it!”
He spun around to face you, a grin breaking across his face. He pumped his fist in the air, silently cheering as if he’d just hit the jackpot. That boyish smile, dimples and all, made him look so much younger.
And then, he saw it—a faint, fleeting curve of your lips.
His laugh bubbled out, soft and genuine, as he ran toward you, nearly tripping over his own feet in excitement. You're perfect, he thinks, the thought hitting him as naturally as breathing. You try to step back, caught off guard, but it’s too late.
It’s already too late.
“I freaking knew it,” he said, his arms around you warm, his chin resting on the top of your head. You stood frozen, your hands awkwardly at your sides, nodding stiffly.
“I told you,” he whispered. When he finally steps back, his eyes search your face, the smile he’d seen just moments ago is already gone. You look away, avoiding his gaze, and the sudden absence of it—leaves an ache in his chest.
He wants to see it again.
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“Let’s wrap this up and circle outside the camp,” you say, pulling the zipper closed on the duffel bag you’d packed full. “We need to check if Kai’s lingering nearby. And we’ll need to secure a vehicle too. We’re in Daejeon—its a long way to Jeonju.”
“Thank you.” Beomgyu’s voice is quiet, and his cheeks flush red as he remembers his earlier outburst—the way he’d hugged you without thinking. Maybe it was the relief from the message, or maybe it was just seeing you smile at him for the first time.
“Why do you think they’re in Jeonju?”
“Probably got a radio response,”
He nods, falling in step behind you as you heft the duffel bag over your shoulder. Beomgyu quickens his pace, catching up to you. He tugs the bag from your hands. “Let me take this,”
The two of you stepped out of the tent, the silence heavy between you. You were nearing the camp’s edge when Beomgyu noticed you slowing down, your steps faltering.
Seo-jun.
His movements were slow, his hands trembling as he stumbled forward. He's looking at you. Seo-jun’s blood-soaked uniform and gaping bite on his neck entered your vision. Gunshot wounds riddled his chest—a soldier’s final stand. He had fought. Hard. For his team. For everyone.
"Y/N?" Beomgyu’s voice broke through the haze, soft but urgent. He noticed that you had stopped, your gaze fixed on the infected figure ahead. He squinted, and his heart sank when he realized it was someone from your team.
Seven years. You had known Seo-jun for seven years. You had planned to make things right with him, to talk, to reconcile. But how could you now? How could you fix things when he was already lost? You tried to blink away the moisture from your eyes.
“Am I ever getting a break?” you muttered to yourself, the words bitter. "Even here, you find a way to mock me, Seo-jun."
Beomgyu could hear the shakiness in your voice, the rawness in the way you spoke. He listens.
You couldn’t leave him like this. Alone in his lifeless form, wandering endlessly. He deserved more than that. “Come on, you shit,” you muttered, your throat tightening as you stepped forward, reaching for your knife. But you froze.
Around his neck, alongside his dog tags, hung another set. Min Ju-won’s. Even at the end, Seo-jun had carried that burden, blaming himself for something you both knew wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t let it go, not even in death.
Beomgyu moved before he could think. He didn't know if it was the look in your eyes or the way your hand trembled, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t let you do this. While Seo-jun was distracted by your figure, Beomgyu raised his weapon. Just as you had taught him hours ago, he aimed for the head.
Seo-jun’s body crumpled to the ground. Beomgyu guided him down gently, almost reverently. From his backpack, Beomgyu pulled an extra jacket. Without a word, he draped it over Seo-jun’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was the only dignity he could offer.
When he stood, his eyes met yours, raw and glistening with emotion.
“Why—” Your voice cracked, unable to finish the question.
“He was your friend,” he said quietly. “I'm not going to let you do that. Not while I’m here.”
Friend.
That single word shattered whatever fragile wall you’d been holding up. A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped it away with your hand.
“He’s not suffering anymore,” Beomgyu added softly, his hand gently brushing the top of your head—you avoided his eyes, yet again. “He’s not suffering,”
He bent down to grab the duffel bag he’d dropped earlier, slinging it over one shoulder. Then, he reached out, his hand wrapping around your wrist.
“Let's get out of here.” He pulled you forward.
Beomgyu's hand didn’t leave yours until the two of you were far beyond the camp.
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"Hey," you called out to Beomgyu, who was busy checking a nearby car. "This looks fresh—like it hasn’t been here long." He made his way over, and you held out—a baseball, cap.
"Wait," Beomgyu said, eyes widening as he took it. Turning it over in his hands, he inspected it closely. "This… this is Kai’s,"
When you looked at him, a small smile was already spreading across his face, lighting up his features like it always did.
Beomgyu… he was so easily moved by the smallest things. It didn’t take much to make him smile. Or maybe it wasn’t that simple. Maybe it was because he loved his brothers, that even the smallest sign of them was enough to give him something to hold onto.
You dropped your gaze when his eyes met yours and moved toward the next car, pretending. But your thoughts refused to stay put. Here you were again, thinking about him—about his silly antics.
In the past twelve hours, it felt like he’d done nothing but occupy your mind. Every small moment with him clung to you. The way his voice softened when he spoke—The way he’d quietly ask, “You okay?” as if you were the one who needed saving.
After Seo-jun—he hadn’t said a word about it. No awkward condolences, no probing questions. Just silence—the kind you needed. Like he just… knew. No one had ever been like this—this careful, this kind. No one had ever looked at you the way he did, with eyes that were too brown and too full of something you didn’t want to name.
You didn’t like it.
You didn’t like it at all.
“I think Kai’s already ahead of us,” you bit into the bland military ration that was handed to you. “Heading towards Jeonju, if those tracks are anything to go by. He’s smart.”
“He is,” Beomgyu agreed, a small smile at his lips as he stirred the contents of his disposable pack. “He’s the calmest one too.”
“Then I guess we will see him there,” you said with a shrug. “Now all we need to do is find a working car.”
“A manual,”
“Hm.”
“That has gas in it.”
“Figures,” you muttered. “But that’ll be the easier part.”
Silence settled over the two of you again, it had become strangely common. You both ate, focused on the food. Every so often, you’d catch Beomgyu glancing your way, and flashes you his small, boyish grin on his face.
You tossed the empty pack toward a nearby car and wiped your hands on your pants. “It’s getting dark soon,” you said. “We should camp nearby and head out at first light.” Moving at night was usually the smarter option, especially with a vehicle and a full team. But here, now? Just the two of you, on foot, with no guarantee of shelter or backup—it wasn’t worth the risk.
Sticking to the woods was safer. The fewer infected—or people—you encountered, the better. You only ventured onto the road when there was a car worth checking.
In the fading light, a barn came into view. Its doors were wide open, silhouetted against the trees. You signaled Beomgyu to wait outside while you moved to secure the area. Inside, it was clear the owner had left in a hurry, taking most of what mattered. It was empty, save for a few odds and ends no one had cared to take—its enough for a temporary shelter.
“Looks good enough,” you murmured as you stepped back outside. Beomgyu nodded, already starting to unload your supplies. The discovery of a small lake nearby was an unexpected bonus.
“I’m going to wash up,” you said, gathering what you needed and slinging your gun over your shoulder. Beomgyu gave a slight nod, his eyes lingering on you as you walked away.
The water was cold, scouring away the dirt and sweat. You were quick, not wanting to leave Beomgyu alone for long. When you returned, your damp hair clung to your neck, and your skin was clean and slightly chilled.
“Your turn,” He glanced up, eyes flitting over your freshly washed face. His heart thudded hard in his chest. Cute, he thought, forcing himself to look away. Beomgyu nodded, grabbing his things and heading out to the lake. He came back just as fast, hair dripping but visibly refreshed.
You sat side by side on the makeshift bedding, neither of you saying much. Beomgyu’s soft breathing enters your ears—hand rested close enough that you could almost feel its warmth against your skin.
You found your eyes beginning to close with peace you hadn’t realized you were still capable of feeling.
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Beomgyu woke up, immediately turning to his left. There you were, curled up on your side, the rise and fall of your chest visible in the dim space. He stared, mesmerized—it was the first time he’d ever seen you asleep. You looked… soft. A side of you he never thought he’d witness.
He shifted. The urge to pee was becoming unbearable. Careful not to wake you, Beomgyu slipped off and crept toward the barn door. The cold air hit him as he stepped outside, wrapping his arms tightly around himself for warmth. He scanned the area just like you’d taught him—ears tuned to every sound. Nothing.
He let out a breath of relief and headed to a nearby tree. Unzipping his pants, he took care of business quickly, the chill urging him to hurry. After he finished and zipped back up, a faint rustling behind him made him stop. Before he could turn, a large, rough hand clamped over his mouth, oppressing his scream. Another arm locked around his neck, pulling him back against a solid chest.
“Shut up if you value your life,” a low, gravelly voice growled against his ear. The man holding him inhaled deeply near his hair, a disgusting, exaggerated sniff. “Freshly washed. You’ve got a place nearby, don’t you?”
Beomgyu’s eyes darted ahead, and his stomach dropped when three more men stepped into view. Each held a weapon—a bat, a knife, and worst, a pistol. The man restraining him gives a rough shake, his breath hot and foul. “Don’t make me ask again. Where’s your camp?”
Beomgyu shook his head violently, panic blooming in his chest. He couldn't—he wouldn't—lead them back to you. The thought of them finding you, sleeping and unaware—this was his fault. He should have been more careful.
The man growled in frustration. “Y' think this is a joke?” he spat, hardening his chokehold. Beomgyu’s throat made a strangled sound as he gasped for air. The man with the knife stepped forward, expression predatory. “Maybe this will help him remember,” he said, pressing the blade against Beomgyu’s cheek. The sharp metal bit into his skin, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make him wince.
“There’s a barn ahead,” the one with the baseball bat said,“Think that’s it?” Beomgyu’s reaction betrayed him—his wide eyes and the flash of fear gave them all the confirmation they needed.
“Yeah,” the man holding him laughed darkly, “that’s it.”
Before Beomgyu could resist, they forced his hands behind his back and bound them tightly, shoving a cloth into his mouth to stifle any protest. He struggled, but it was no use—they yanked him forward, dragging him roughly toward the barn. And he knew exactly where they were taking him. To you.
“Fucking hell,” the man holding Beomgyu growled, his gaze shifting to your sleeping figure inside the barn. A dark grin tugged at his lips. “Is this what you’re so scared of? Afraid we’ll take her away from you?”
Beomgyu thrashed, desperate to scream, to warn you, but the cloth bound tight in his mouth smothered any sound. The group moved closer, one of them stepping forward to push the barn door open. The large, old door creaked. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to wake you.
Your eyes snapped open, adjusting to the figures looming at the entrance, shadows that didn’t belong. Your hand reached for the gun nearby. The glint of their weapons caught your eye as they aimed at you in return.
“Sweetheart,” the tallest man drawled, stepping forward. His tone was mocking, dangerous. He shoved someone in front of him—Beomgyu. Your breath hitched as your eyes locked onto his. His face was pale, streaked with dirt and tears, and a raw red mark marred his cheek. His wide, terrified eyes pleaded with you.
Red.
“What the fuck do you want, asshole?” You cocked your gun, the sharp metallic click echoing. One of them flinched. Good.
The leader sneered, shoving Beomgyu roughly to the side. He tied him to a post like he was nothing more than an animal. Your jaw tightened as you watched the way they manhandled him, your fists clenching around the gun. When he was done, the leader turned back to you, whistling low at the deadly glare you levelled at him. His cocky smirk only deepened.
“You look loaded,” he said, his eyes flicking to the bags by the wall. “And since you asked so nicely, we’d also like to take turns with you, sweetheart.”
Beomgyu shook his head violently from where he was tied, his muffled cries useless against their laughter. His chest heaved, panic consuming him as the men began to advance on you.
“We’re lucky you’re here,” the leader continued, leering. “If we didn’t have a choice, we’d take the boy instead. He’s got such a pretty face, after all.”
Red.
All you saw was red.
Your vision blurred as rage consumed you. You let one of them grab your gun without resistance. It didn’t matter.
You'll kill them all.
The leader was close now, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tilt your head back. His face was inches from yours, his smirk as disgusting as the words spilling from his mouth. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? No fight left in you?”
You smirked—just a little. It was enough to confuse him, before he could react, your teeth sank into his throat. Hard.
It was a spot right where you knew it would hurt most. A pressure point. His scream ripped through while he stumbled back, clutching at the gaping wound with blood pouring through his fingers. The bitter, metallic taste flooded your mouth, but you didn't stop. You grabbed the gun he dropped as he fell and turned, firing without hesitation.
BANG.
The man who had taken your gun didn’t even have time to aim before he hit the ground.
“Fuck—” one of them snarled, charging at you. Before he could get too close, your foot sweeped his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a grunt.
BANG.
You aim your gun and pulled the trigger on his face. The man with the bat.
Pain exploded in your shoulder, a gunshot tearing through your flesh, but you didn’t flinch. His mistake wasn’t pulling the trigger; it was not aiming for your head like you aimed for his.
BANG.
The leader gurgled, blood bubbling up from his lips as he stared at you in disbelief. “Monster—” he chokes on the floor, his hands futilely gripping his shredded throat. His blood pooled beneath him as he sputtered his last, trying and failing to form a single word. “You—”
BANG.
You stared at the four lifeless bodies beneath you, the gun in your hand began to feel impossibly heavy. Blood clung to your shirt like a second skin, still warm, sticky. Your mouth tasted metallic, your hair a disheveled mess from the earlier struggle.
Behind you, Beomgyu sat slumped against the post, trembling. He’d watched everything—every deafening shot, every life you’d taken to protect. His body flinched with each pull of the trigger. Now, his tears streamed freely, but not out of fear. No, this wasn’t fear.
He was crying because you had to do this.
Sobbing around the cloth still gagging him, his muffled cries echoing in the now-silent barn. You moved, steps distant, as if someone else controlled them. You crouched down and began untying the ropes binding Beomgyu to the post. His breath hitched as your fingers worked the knots, your hands stained with blood that was not yours. The ropes fell loose. Beomgyu searched your face, desperate for some sign of emotion—but your eyes were blank, lost.
Before he could speak, you stood, bolting toward the barn door. Beomgyu panicked. He hiccuped, scrambling to his feet, his legs weak from being tied up for so long. “Y/N!” he tried to call, but his voice cracked. His head spinning.
You were gone. Were you leaving him? He looked around frantically, his feet faltering as the barn opened into the cool night. He couldn’t lose you. Not now.
Beomgyu finds you at the small lake nearby, kneeling in the water. The cold ripples lapped at your clothes, soaking them, but you didnt seem to notice. Your hands scrubbed furiously at your arms, over and over, like you were trying to erase your own skin. “Y/N,”
“Y-You were shot,” he said, voice cracking. His eyes darted to your shoulder, blood had begun to seep through your shirt.
You gasped for air, your chest squeezing with every shallow breath. No matter how hard you tried, it felt like the air couldn't reach your lungs. Your hands clutched your face as if you could physically hold yourself together—thoughts raced through your mind, loud and suffocating. The world around you blurred and warped, slipping further and further from your grasp.
You killed them.
“Y/N—” Beomgyu’s voice broke through. “Breathe—”
You barely registered him.
“Can you—”
“Look at me!” he shouted, louder this time. Hands cupping your face, trembling as much as yours. “Baby, look at me.” Your eyes darted up, locking onto his. Your tears spilled down your face.
“That’s it,” he said, his voice softening, “Just keep looking at me, brave girl.” You leaned into him, your weight heavy against his chest. His soft voice leads you.
“Okay,” he said, his forehead brushing yours gently. “I need you to help me out. Can you do that?” You nodded weakly in his arms.
“Good. Start with five things you can see. Anything, okay? Just tell me five things.” Your gaze darted, focusing on anything you could name. “The tree,” you whispered shakily. “The grass. The water. Your tears. And…you.”
“That’s it,” he said, “Now, four things you can touch. What are they?”
“Your hands,” you murmured, your fingers twitching against his. “The water. My hair. And…stones.”
“Perfect,” he said, his thumbs now against your cheeks. “What about three things you can hear?” You breathed deeply this time, the cloud in your head beginning to lift. “The wind. The water. And you.” His lips curved into the smallest, most fragile smile. “Two things you can smell?”
You hesitated. “The blood,” you admitted, voice cracking. “And…the trees.”
“One thing you can taste.”
You swallowed hard, finally meeting his eyes fully. “Metal,” you whispered, voice barely audible.
"You did it." Beomgyu’s voice trembled, his hands cradling your face with a gentleness that only made the tears come faster. He does his best to brush them away. "Thank fuck."
“Beomgyu,” his name on your lips slips out barely more than a whisper. Forehead pressed against his shoulder, your arms wrapping around him slowly, shakily, until they found their place on his back.
There's a soft press of lips against your temple, warm and fleeting.
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He helped you wash the blood off your body, his hands careful, never lingering longer than necessary. His gaze flicked to yours every few seconds, searching for some sign of permission—or maybe for you to tell him to stop. But you didn't. You can't, not when his eyes held that pleading look, soft and desperate, as if this was the only way he could help you carry the weight of what had happened.
When it came time to clean your face, you stopped him with a slight shake of your head. He didn’t argue.
Later, he examined the gunshot wound on your shoulder, gently turning you to check for an exit wound. Relief flickered across his face when he found one. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, had this more than I can keep track of.” you replied. His head snapped up, disbelief written all over his features.
The two of you walked back to the barn in silence, clothes damp from the lake. Your hands swung loosely at your sides, brushing his once, then twice, until Beomgyu hesitantly reached out and took your hand in his. You didn’t pull away.
“You can wait here,” he said softly when the barn came into view. “I’ll grab our things. We need to leave—someone might’ve heard.” You nodded, understanding without him saying it: he didn’t want you to see the bodies again.
Within minutes, he returned with your bags. You rummaged through yours, finding fresh pants and underwear but no shirt. “Do you have a shirt?”
“I do,” He's already handing it to you.
“Thanks.”
Slipping it over your head, you caught the faint scent of him—musky, with a subtle sweetness. It suited him.
The two of you moved to a nearby tree, settling under its shadow. The world was still dark, the night stretching on endlessly. You sat beside him, his shoulders side by side with yours.“Can you say it again?”
“What?”
“My name,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. You noticed the tips of his ears reddening. “Like you did earlier.”
“No,”
He chuckled, his gaze falling to where your hands rested in your lap. “As I expected.” When you did not respond, he ventured another question. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“What about it?”
“Was that your first t—”
“It wasn’t,” you cut him off, your eyes fixed ahead. You didn’t know why, but the words kept coming. “I’ve killed before. Being a soldier in the war… it wasn’t a choice. Sometimes I even had to kill my own teammates.” You paused,“But this… it’s different. They were civilians.”
“You had to kill your teammates too?”
You turned to him, studying the calm expression on his face. His eyes—the same ones that had anchored you earlier—held no trace of distrust, even after your confession. “Why aren’t you freaked out by this?”
“Because I want to know you,” he said with a small shrug. “Believe it or not, I’ve always been a good judge of character—or at least, that’s what my mom used to say. Soobin, too.” He paused, his lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. “Ever since I met you, there hasn’t been a single thing you’ve done that I couldn’t understand.” The answer caught you off guard, made something in you falter.
"I had to kill them because they asked me to,"
“Then you're the strongest person I’ve ever met.” You didn’t know how to respond—you dont trust your voice not to break. How could he look at you like that after everything he’d seen? After all you’d done?
Minutes passed, when you felt him shift beside you, his arm lifting as he gently guided your head to rest on his shoulder. The warmth of him made it easier to close your eyes.
"You can rest now,"
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“This one doesn’t work either,” Beomgyu called out from up ahead. You were still busy checking the car you’d been inspecting—never mind. It didn’t work, either.
“Should we just go on foot?” he asked, exasperation into his voice. It had been over a day of wandering and hoping to find a working vehicle. There’d been a few infected here and there, but sticking to the backroads had kept you from running into anything worse than a small group.
“It’s dangerous,” you replied without looking up.
Silence.
Beomgyu never let a comment slide without a retort, you know that by now. Heart thumping, you stepped out of the car and scanned the area, instincts on high alert.
“BAH!” He jumped out in front of you, doubling over with laughter so intense it sounded like he might choke. “You should’ve seen your face!” he managed between gasps. “It was so cute.”
“Are you done?”
Clearing his throat, Beomgyu grinned. It was just another one of his attempts to get on your nerves. He pulled something from his pocket—a dusty Polaroid camera he had found in one of the trucks. He flipped it open and checked the film. Two shots left. Without missing a beat, he raised it to his face and clicked the button.
You blinked, unimpressed. “Are you even checking the cars, or are you just running around pretending to be Dora the Explorer?”
Beomgyu smirked as the film began developing. “You watch Dora?”
“No.”
“You just mentioned her.”
“She’s famous.”
“So am I,” he shot back. “But you didn’t know me before this.”
“Are you seriously going to bring that up again?”
“Heh.” Beomgyu’s grin only widened. He could almost see it—the tiniest twitch at the corner of your lips before you turned away. Almost. It made his heart flutter in that stupid, uncontrollable way he hated admitting to himself.
As the photo developed, he glanced down at it. The image of you slowly came into view—you, standing in the middle of the road, hair pulled into a loose ponytail, staring at something out of frame with a faintly confused look on your face. “Beautiful,” he exhales.
If you looked this good now, how stunning would you be on a normal day?
If this were a normal day, Beomgyu would be all over you.He’d give you flowers every single day, just to make you smile. He’d buy you anything you wanted—or even things you didn’t know you needed. Love is effort. It's what his parents taught him. — And he’d give it, all of it. He’d take photos of you, even beg if he had to, make playlists for you, play games with you, anything.
He wondered if you’d be any good at FPS games. You were already a menace with a gun in real life, so you’d probably be terrifying in a match.
Maybe, if the world ever allowed it, he’d convince you to visit Daegu, his hometown with him. His parents would love you. His brother, too, though Beomgyu would definitely have to bribe him to keep his mouth shut about the massive crush he’d been harboring on you. Would you like… Toto?
Beomgyu stared at the camera in his hands. Who knows if he’ll ever get another moment like this—another chance—in a world as unpredictable as this one? The idea settles in his mind, and he doesn’t let himself hesitate. “Let’s take a picture together.”
You stopped in your tracks, turning to give him that deadpan, unamused stare—the one that always made Beomgyu bite back a grin. Another idea sparked his mind, “Okay, listen. After this, I promise not to mess around anymore,” He jutted his lower lip out just slightly, eyes pleading like a puppy who’d been caught chewing on a shoe.
“You promise.”
“Cross my heart,” he said quickly, nodding like his life depended on it. When you didn’t immediately reply, he skipped towards you. He knew this silence, too—your subtle little “yes” that didn’t require any words. He’d been observing you to pick up on your signals, even the smallest ones.
Without giving you time to change your mind, Beomgyu lifted the camera, stepped close, and pressed his cheek against yours. The faint warmth of your skin against his made his stomach flip, but he ignored it, snapping the picture before you could pull away.
You jerked back, shaking your head.
As the photo developed, Beomgyu stared at it, the edges curling faintly as the image sharpened. There it was—your face, with that same unamused look, your lips slightly pressed together like a daughter forced into posing for an overly enthusiastic mom. Beside you was him, the complete opposite—grinning like an idiot, dimples on full display, both your faces so close, touching.
Something about the contrast, about the way your expressions came together on that tiny square, made his heart do that stupid fluttering thing again. He tucked the photo into his pocket, alongside the other one.
He kept his promise and moved to the next car with you.
After three more hours of searching, you finally found a working car. Beomgyu let out an excited cheer, breaking into his little happy dance again. You tried not to smile, tried not to let his enthusiasm rub off on you—but, honestly, it was getting harder and harder to resist.
"Catch," you called, tossing the last bag to him. He caught it easily, stashing it in the backseat. Sliding into the driver’s seat, you glanced over as he settled into the passenger side. He looked so at ease there, sprawling out and fiddling with something on the dash. A passenger princess. Or was it prince? Either way, you could get used to him being there, looking peaceful for once.
You started the engine and pulled out onto the road, the car’s windows down to let in the cool breeze. As you drove, Beomgyu’s gaze drifted to your hair, your loose ponytail starting to come undone from the wind.
“Let me fix this for you,” he said, leaning over.
You felt his hands gently brush against your hair as he worked, careful not to distract you too much while you focused on the road. In the rearview mirror, you caught sight of his face—his brow furrowed in concentration, lips slightly parted. His fingers brushed against your neck as he gathered your hair, the touch light and deliberate. You could feel the care in the way he worked, securing the ponytail more tightly this time. "There."
When he finished, he leaned back, his hands falling to his lap as he took a moment to admire his work—admiring you. His gaze lingered, drinking in the curve of your face, the way your hands gripped the steering wheel just tight enough. He never felt safer than he did here, by your side. Somehow, in the middle of all this, he’d found his safe place.
His safe place.
“Try to get some sleep while I drive,” Beomgyu's unable to look away—you were right there in front of him, so effortlessly beautiful it made his heart ache. The soft curve of your cheeks, the faint flush that he couldn’t stop staring at—he wanted to reach out, to brush his lips against them, to trace the tip of your nose with his own.
In the short time he’d been alone with you—just forty-eight hours—it felt like he’d known you a lifetime. Like you’d been waiting there all along, someone he was meant to find. He wants to know more.
“Yeah, sleep. Sure.” He replies, words catching in his throat.
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You’ve been driving for a while now. Beside you, Beomgyu was fast asleep, his soft snores fill your ears. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you glanced over, his head resting against the window, one hand tucked beneath it like a pillow.
The camp was close, maybe 15 minutes away. Just 15 more minutes before you’d be separated from him. The thought twisted something deep in your chest. Selfish. You knew it was selfish to feel this way. You barely knew him, and yet…
You glanced at him again, his face soft and unguarded in sleep. Everything else seemed to fade—the road ahead, the weight of your responsibilities, even the constant buzz of survival.
Survival.
Being with him didn’t feel like you were just trying to survive.
Him—who had no choice but to end up with you. You were about to leave that camp. You're already far. But when you saw him at that overrun camp, darting between tents with nothing but desperation and bad luck to shield him from the bandits, something inside you shifted. You just moved. Your feet carried you forward before your mind could catch up, before the voice of reason could stop you.
You didn’t know then that the next two days with him would chip away at the walls you’d built.
It was the little things, mostly. The way he insisted you eat first, even when food was scarce. The way he handed you the best parts of the military rations. How he seemed to know when the weight of the barn still lingered in your mind, distracting you with his terrible jokes or a question just long enough to pull you out of it. Or how he’d ask if you’d slept okay, like it mattered in a world where nothing really did.
And that smile he gives you—so easy, so genuine, even when there was no reason for it. Like he just couldn’t help himself. But now, it was ending. It had to end. You have to end it.
You tightened your grip on the wheel, staring hard at the road ahead. This was the right thing to do, the smart thing. You’d get him to safety, to people who could take care of him better than you ever could.
He didn’t belong out here with you, and you didn’t belong anywhere.
Survival.
There's nothing more that terrified you.
You spot the camp—Jeonju. It’s much bigger, with sturdy railings circling the perimeter to keep the infected out. The car rolls closer, the guards stationed on top of the walls notice you. A blinding floodlight clicks on. You know what that means: get out and identify yourselves.
“Beomgyu,” you say, shaking him awake. “We’re here. Wake up, dumbass.”
“Huh? Oh,” he mutters, the light strike his face. “Got it.”
“We’ll leave our stuff in the car for now. We just need to head up there and check in.” He nods, following your lead as you climb out. You raise both hands in the air, palms open. Beomgyu mimics you.
“State your business!” one of the guards calls down from the wall.
Before you can answer, you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. An infected, shambling closer—too close to Beomgyu. You’re already moving, boots hitting the dirt as you drive your foot into its chest and plunge your knife into its skull.
You step back into position, brushing some blood off your sleeve. “Park Y/N!” you shout up at the guard. “I report directly to Captain Joon. I’ve got Choi Beomgyu with me—a rescued civilian.”
You waited for ten minutes, at most.
The gates creak open, the panels sliding apart to reveal three soldiers stepping out, their rifles at the ready. One of them freezes, his eyes going wide. “That’s really Y/N from the Black Berets. Idiot.”
You ignore his outburst, your gaze cool as it shifts to his badge. “Can we go in now, Ji-min?”
The soldiers straighten instantly, snapping salutes in your direction. Two of them move toward the car, offering to grab your supplies. You give them a curt nod before turning to Beomgyu, only to find him already looking at you—his eyes, questioning.
“Is my team here?” you ask the soldier who stayed behind.
“Yes,” You glance back at Beomgyu. His stare now answered. Without another word, you both start to walk toward the gate.
Beomgyu’s eyes widened, his breath unstable after he spotted the four figures waiting inside. They were here. They were really here.
Before he could fully process it, Soobin’s tall frame sprinted toward him, Yeonjun and Taehyun close behind. He barely noticed you stepping aside to give them space, his entire focus locked on his brothers. The first embrace hit him like a floodgate bursting. Strong arms pulled him in, and the dam he’d tried so hard to hold together crumbled. He buried his face into the familiar comfort of Soobin’s shoulder, trying desperately not to sob. He had missed them. They had never left his mind—not once.
“Choi Beomgyu,” Soobin said, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Are you okay?”
Yeonjun’s hand came up to gently ruffle his hair, a comforting gesture that made the lump in Beomgyu’s throat harder to swallow. “You’re not hurt, right?”
Beomgyu shook his head, sniffling as he wiped at his face.
“You took your time,” Taehyun teased with a small smile. “Sorry we couldn't wait for you back there. It's impossible to get to you, but we really tried.”
“It does not matter,” Beomgyu replied quickly, “Wait—where’s Kai?”
“He’s not here yet,” Soobin admitted, voice pained. “But one of the soldiers saw him escaping with someone else—a soldier. They said he made it out.”
“That ambush was insane,” Beomgyu nodded, even his heart ached. He had to hold onto hope. Kai was strong—he’d make it. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after, Kai would walk through those gates too.
A sudden panic shot through him, his head snapping to the side. “What’s wrong?”
Beomgyu eyes scanned the cluster of soldiers nearby. Where are you? He finally spotted you, standing with Captain Joon. The older man looked serious, but there was a warmth in his demeanor as he clapped a hand on your shoulder. You said something to him, your expression calm. Captain Joon’s face softened, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to pull you into an embrace.
“She’s been with you this whole time?” Yeonjun asked, surprised.
“Since the start,”
Soobin doesn’t wait. He steps forward, taking Beomgyu by the arm as Yeonjun and Taehyun fall in beside them. Together, the four approach you. You don't have time to register what’s happening before Soobin wraps his arms around you in a unexpected hug.
“Thank you,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for bringing him back to us.”
You glance over Soobin’s shoulder, catching Beomgyu’s gaze. He’s watching you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken—a warmth that makes your chest tighten. You manage a small smile in return, the corners of your lips curving just enough to acknowledge him. He gives back a grin, that makes his dimple appear.
Gently patting Soobin on the back, you step away. “How are you holding up?” you ask,“I heard Kai’s not here yet. But with Ji-ho looking out for him, I know he’ll make it. He’s capable.”
Your words seem to ease the tension in the group. Soobin nods, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Yeonjun offers a faint smile, and even Taehyun pats your shoulder.
“We’re managing,” Soobin says. “Just waiting to hear what Hybe’s next steps are.”
Captain Joon appeared beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You’ve done enough for today,” he says. “Go wash up. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Beomgyu trails behind the other three, footsteps slower, reluctant. He looks back over his shoulder, at the direction you went—away from him, toward your own assigned space. This camp is massive, lined with rows of tents in all shapes and sizes, yet somehow, even with so many people around, Beomgyu feels unmoored without you nearby.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. You’ll need to change the bandage on your shoulder soon. He knows that, just like he knows you probably won’t bother unless someone reminds you. It’s always him who keeps track, who insists on helping you replace the worn-out wraps.
“Here’s your room,” Taehyun points to the tent ahead. Beomgyu steps inside, placing his things near the bed. It’s small but better—an actual mattress and even a tiny bathroom. He crouches by his bag, pulling out a fresh set of clothes for after his shower.
He tugs off his shirt, fingers brushed against the knife strapped to his belt. Slowly, he unhooks it, focuses on the small engraving on the handle—your name, etched deep into the worn metal. Would you want it back? Probably. The thought makes his pout, because he doesn’t want to let it go. Not yet.
He crosses the room and sets the knife carefully on the small table, almost tenderly, like it's an object meant for something more delicate than killing.
He showers with his heart feeling impossibly heavy.
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Your hair was still damp from the shower, clinging to your neck as you ran a towel through it. Tugging a fresh pair of cargo pants up your hips, you reached for your shirt.
“You should always keep it wrapped as long as it’s not healed yet.” His voice echoed in your mind, unbidden.
“Fucking Choi Beomgyu,” you muttered, shaking your head as you grabbed the roll of bandages from the small supply pile nearby. “Always so annoying.”
Your fingers worked quickly, wrapping the fresh bandage around your shoulder. The wound looked much better now. Once you were satisfied it was comfortable, you pulled your shirt over your head and stepped out of your tent.
Your stomach growled in response with the smeel of cooking. A warm meal—finally. “Y/N!”
You turned at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice. He waved you over, seated with their small group near one of the campfires. Several other campfires are on the open space with large pots of food simmered over flames. “Sit down here,” Yeonjun offered, patting the spot on the log beside him.
You took the seat, extending your hands toward the warmth of the fire. Across, your eyes met Beomgyu’s. He was seated opposite you, quiet for once, his gaze flickering away as soon as it met yours.
Yeonjun handed you a steaming bowl of soup, carefully scooped from the pot. “Fill up. It’s good,” he said with a grin.
“Thanks,” you murmured, taking the bowl into your hands. You reached for a spoon, Soobin beat you to it, holding one out.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Let me know if you need seconds.”
You cleared your throat, a little thrown off by the casual care they offered. It wasn’t something you were used to.
The conversation around the fire swirled, voices rising and falling as they swapped stories. You ate in silence, letting the warmth of the meal soothe you. It had been so long since you’d had something like this. But one person wasn’t talking much. Beomgyu.
You coughed—ate a little too fast, the food catching in your throat. It has only been a second when a water bottle was offered.
“Drink up,” Beomgyu said, already twisting the cap off for you. He reached for your bowl, holding it steady so you could take the bottle from his hand. You took a sip, the cool water easing the discomfort. “Thanks,” you muttered.
“That’s right, Beomgyu,” Taehyun teased, smirking. “Take care of her. I’m sure she had to drag your sorry ass out there.”
“She did not!” Beomgyu blurted, his ears turning red.
“Oh, I bet she carried you on her back,” Yeonjun chimed in, clearly enjoying himself. “What? No way!”
“You probably teased her the whole time,” Taehyun added, grinning.
“I didn’t—”
“What a baby,” Soobin finished with a dramatic shake of his head.
Their teasing bounced around the fire, growing louder. Mixed with exaggerated groans as playful shoves sent shoulders bumping on the log seats. Beomgyu, red-faced and clearly at his limit, stomped his foot on the ground in mock frustration.
You couldn’t help it; a laugh escaped you, small at first but growing. You quickly covered your mouth with the back of your hand, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle it.
Beomgyu's wide eyes locked on you. You laughed. You finally fucking laughed. He feels his heart about to burst at the sweet sound.
“Oh-ho, look at her!” Soobin exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “The stress must’ve caught up with her. This is your fault, Choi Beomgyu!”
"Choi Soobin, you shi—," Beomgyu sputtered in protest, and more laughter joined with you.
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It had been a week since that night by the fire. A week since Beomgyu arrived at the camp with you—and a week since he last saw you laugh like that. He could still picture it—your face by the warm glow of the fire, the soft orange light making you look almost ethereal. Did you know how exquisite you look when your eyes crinkle with joy? “Did you cut the vegetables, Beomgyu?” Yeonjun asked him as he pointed at the makeshift kitchen in the camp. “Yeah, I did,” he replied, tossing the emptied cans into the trash. He’d offered to handle it, trying to distract himself. Hybe still hadn’t contacted the military about their group, so they’d started helping around. The soldiers were reluctant at first, but Soobin had talked them into it. Now, they pitched in with small domestic tasks—delivering freshly laundered clothes from the women who washed them, cutting vegetables for the large communal meals, anything to stay useful. Beomgyu learned there were about forty-five people at the camp: nine civilians like them, eleven workers, and twenty-five soldiers. It had been a week since you’d spoken to him. A week since you’d even looked at him. Beomgyu tried. He really did. He’d tried to reach out. He started waking up early—a feat for him, someone who once detested mornings—he’d wait by the path, knowing it was your routine to jog at first light. But the moment he saw you, stretching with Do-hyun under the rising sun, his courage crumbled. Feet rooted to the spot, unable to move closer. He tried during meals too, sweeping his eyes on the tables, hoping to sit with you—but every time their group arrived, you were already standing, tray in hand, heading somewhere he could not follow. He even lingered around the grounds, pretending to have something to do. Sometimes, he felt a pair of eyes on him—heart leaping at the possibility it was you—but when he looked up, the space was empty. Eventually, he’d retreat to his tent, his shoulders heavy with defeat. It felt like you were avoiding him. Ignoring him. Do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He lay awake most nights, staring at the canvas ceiling of his tent, replaying your moments together over and over. He could still feel the warmth of your hands. The memory of you in his arms—how perfectly you fit in it. Were you okay? Was your shoulder healing as it should? Were you eating enough? Sleeping well? Had he already become invisible to you? What is he to you anyway? A friend? Do you even consider him as one?
“You’ve been out of it these past days, Beomgyu.” Yeonjun’s voice broke into his thoughts, accompanied by a firm hand on his shoulder. His eyes searched Beomgyu’s face, concern evident. “What’s troubling you?”
“Nothing, I…” Beomgyu’s voice cracked as he tried to answer. He swallowed hard, looking away. “I guess I’m just… more tired than usual.”
“If you need to talk, let me know, okay?”
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"When are you going to talk to him?" Do-hyun asked, breathless, as you pulled him to his feet after knocking him down for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. The moon guides your makeshift sparring circle. You hadn’t planned to spar with him; it just happened. Restless, you’d found yourself outside his tent, knocking like a ghost haunting its own grave.
You released his hand abruptly, stepping back at his words. “Let’s go again,” you said, more to yourself than to him.
Without waiting for a reply, you charged, throwing a closed fist at his right side. He dodged it easily, his laughter breaking the tense silence.
“You know, you’re way less terrifying when you’re distracted,” he teased, grinning at the glare you shot him. “Seriously, Y/N? How long are you gonna keep ignoring the boy? The guy’s trying so hard it’s starting to make me feel bad. If it were me, I’d have fumbled already—”
Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the neck, locking him in a chokehold. “I t-tap out! Fuck! You're going to kill me.” he wheezed, coughing as you let him go. He stumbled back, rubbing his neck. “Shit, I forgot how strong your grip is. For real, how are you not a man?” You didn’t respond. Instead, you wiped the sweat from your forehead, glancing at the clock. It was nearing 11 p.m.
“Reject the kid already, will you? Do him a favor so he can move on.” Do-hyun muttered, reaching for his water bottle. “You cold-ass woman.”
“He’s not a kid,” you said finally, your voice low but firm. Grabbing a towel, you wiped the sweat from your face. “He’s almost my age.”
“Sure,” Do-hyun replied, watching you closely as you drank from your water bottle, to the bags under your eyes. “Not sleeping again?”
You shook your head, capping the bottle and tossing it aside. “It’s harder these days.”
“I know,” he said, softer now. “But you’ve gotta try. I need to head out anyway—errands tomorrow. And honestly, I can’t take more knockouts from you. Have mercy.”
“Idiot,” you muttered, smirking despite yourself.
“You’re the idiot for ignoring—” You didn’t let him finish, rolling your eyes as you turned and headed for your tent. A quick shower later, you were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The camp quiet, your mind was anything but. Frowning, you closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to come.
It never did.
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Beomgyu tossed onto his right side again, the thin mattress beneath him groaning in protest. He lost count of how many times he'd shifted since lying down, each movement more restless than the last.
His chest felt tight, like his heart was pounding against some invisible weight. He sat up, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration. His gaze wandered aimlessly, landing on the small table by his bedside. He froze.
Polaroids.
The universe must be mocking him for missing you this much. Did he really need more reminders?
He inhaled deeply, the sound sharp in the quiet of his tent. Standing abruptly, he began pacing, his feet brushing against the worn canvas floor as a single question churned in his mind: Should I see her? His eyes flicked to the clock—11:28 p.m. Were you even awake?
But then, what difference did it make? Another night of lying there, drowning in this ache, wasn’t an option. He just needed something—your face, your voice, anything.
That’s what he told himself as he stopped pacing, turning toward the small mirror propped against the tent’s corner. His reflection stared back, dishevelled and vulnerable in a way he hadn’t let himself feel in years. He raked his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out, What the hell are you doing? he thought bitterly. You’re an idol for god’s sake.
But then again, you were… a goddess. And right now, none of the titles, pressure, his previous job or self-doubt mattered. It doesn't matter if you'll kick him out as soon as you see him.
What mattered was seeing you.
He stopped just short of your tent, staring at the outline of it. His breath hitched, and his body betrayed him as he turned away, a cowardly retreat already forming in his mind. But he only made it three steps before he falter, his fists clenching at his sides. No. Not tonight.
He turned back, counting the seconds in his head. He rehearsed the words he’d been forming for days now, words that felt too small for what he really wanted to say but would have to do. This had to count. It had to—
“I can see you out there, you know. What do you want?” The sound of your voice sent a panic through him. You sounded tired, a little annoyed. The shadows must have given him away—his pacing back and forth casting restless shapes against the thin fabric of your tent. “Do-hyun?”
“It’s… Beomgyu,” He countered quickly, the way you said another man’s name at this hour unsettling him more than it should. Silence. He braced himself for rejection, for the possibility that you’d tell him to go, that he's insane to be here at this hour, or that you didn’t want to see him.
But the truth is, your eyes are wide inside. He’s insane. What is he doing here? Why now? You stand up slowly, your fingers brushing the edge of your blanket. You can’t turn him away now. It’s too obvious. “Come in.”
Beomgyu that stood outside your tent, hand unstable when he finally pushed the flap aside. The sudden rush of light revealed you, standing there, your eyes locking onto his. For a minute, he forgot how to breathe. His eyes on your face like he was trying to memorize every line, every shadow. “Hi,” he said, it wasn’t how he had planned to start, but it was all he could manage.
You instinctively stepped behind, folding your arms across your chest as a barrier. “What is it?” You looked away, unable to meet his eyes. They were too much—too deep, too brown.
"Are you mad at me?" Beomgyu's voice wavers, cracking slightly as the words spill out. All those rehearsed lines, the ones he'd turned over in his head a thousand times, crumble into this raw, unpolished question.
"I-I— you’ve been ignoring me, Y/N. Don’t even try to deny it." His voice rises, “I called— I even called you out there twice, and I know you heard me.” He pauses, the lump in his throat refuses to go away. "Did I… do something? Something that made you mad at me?" The words are choked, his voice barely above a whisper now.
His eyes—glassy, rimmed red—look at you—he’s holding back tears; you can tell by the way his lips tremble slightly, the way he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. But despite it all, he doesn’t look away. He can’t.
Not when he’s missed you this much.
"Beomgyu, whatever you think is between us," you let your arms fall limply to your sides, "it's nothing. This… this is just a mission. Soon, everything will go back to where it belongs." You pause, your words deliberate, heavy. "And we’ll never see each other again."
His eyebrows knit, disbelief etched his face. "Who decides that? Who says that?"
You exhale sharply, the weight of your own words pressing down on your chest. "It’s just how it is. That’s how it’s always been. You should surround yourself with people like you."
"I—" he starts, but you cut him off before he can unravel any further.
"Stop this." Your tone hardens, more defensive than you intend, but it’s the only way to protect yourself. "Don’t talk to me again, Beomgyu. Don’t seek me out. If you’re just… grateful for what happened, fine. I’ll accept that. And if you feel guilty about it?" Your voice cracks slightly, but you push through, "Then maybe… maybe you can pay me back someday. In the future."
Beomgyu’s lips trembled as he fought for his next words, his hands shaking. “Then tell me. Tell me, straight to my face, looking in my eyes, that you didn’t feel anything. That you don’t feel anything for me. That you’ll never like me, no matter what I do. Even if I…” His voice broke, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Even if I die trying.”
Everything you’ve held back finally spill over, and your voice comes out in a shaky whisper. "Dumbass."
“You can’t,” he said softly, eyes tracing the fall of your tears.
“What are—”
"I think I'm in love with you," he says, voice breaking on his confession. "I'm in love with you that I wonder how the hell I lived without you all these years. I’m so glad I met you, did you know that? If I’d known, I’d have counted down the days—even marked my calendar stupidly—just to know you were waiting for me at the end of it. And if I had a choice to go back in time, to stop this apocalypse before it happened, I wouldn’t do a damn thing. Because I’d lose the chance to meet you. Here. As insane as it sounds," His voice shakes, but he pushes on, "I won’t—I won’t force you…. to like me. That’s not what I want. But would it be selfish of me to ask you to stop acting like I'm not here? Like you don’t know me? I can’t…" He hiccups, shoulders shaking. "I just want to be part of your life, Y/N."
His words made you take a step forward, your hands trembling as you cup his tear-streaked face. He flinches at first, but then he melts into your touch, his breathing uneven. “I’m afraid,” you admitted, your voice breaking, freckles on his face evident with his face bare. “I’ll ruin you. I’ll ruin your life. I'm a fucking ruined person. Can’t you see that?”
"I see you more than you see yourself," His hands come up to cover yours, gripping them tightly as though letting go would mean losing you. "You're a fucking angel."
You sobbed at his words. Angel. The word echoed in your head, a word so unfamiliar. How could someone as shattered as you ever be called that? How could Beomgyu see anything but the cracks, the mess? How could someone this real—this kind—exist? Is he even real? A dream? Or is he just a figment of your imagination, conjured up in your darkest moments to give you false hope?
Your tears fall faster, and Beomgyu panics, own heart breaking at the sight of you crying. Gently, he lets go of your hands and slides his up your arms, his touch featherlight—moves slowly, as though afraid he might hurt you, tracing his way to your shoulders, then your neck, until his fingers cradle your face.
“Who would’ve guessed that you’re a crybaby too?” he whispered, his voice uneven but with affection. He steps closer, wrapping you in his arms, pulling your unstable form against his chest. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your sobs muffled against his warmth.
You feel it—all the longing, all the sleepless nights spent thinking about him. The ache of holding yourself back every time you see him from afar—waiting for you, searching for you. He holds you.
He holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. One hand caresses the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, while the other keeps you pressed against him. He presses soft, baby kisses to the side of your head, whispering. "Y/N,"
You stepped back slightly from his embrace, but Beomgyu’s hands stayed on your face, his thumbs softly brushing against your skin. He smiled—how could a single expression hold so much, and somehow, make everything hurt a little less? You swallowed the lump in your throat. Maybe, just maybe, you could have this. Even if it was only for tonight.
You rose onto your tiptoes, and leaned in. Closing your eyes, you pressed your lips to his—a fleeting, tentative kiss that barely lasted a second. It was quick, and when you pulled back, you were met with his wide eyes staring down at you, stunned. He hadn’t even had time to close them.
For a moment, neither of you moved. His eyes half-closed, his hands tightened slightly on your face, and before you could say anything, he leaned down, pulling you back in.
This time, he kissed you. He tilted his head just enough to fit against you perfectly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. His grip on your face was firm, his tounge grazing your lips—a soft plea—asking for entrance. You let him in, letting him taste you as you tasted him.
Both of you pull back, breaths heavy. A delicate string of saliva still connects your lips, breaking as Beomgyu takes a step forward more, his eyes locked on yours, "I want you."
You nod, reaching for him, your fingers curling around his arm to pull him back into you. "We have to be quiet."
His hands find your waist, fingers dip beneath the hem of your shirt. He lifts it, the fabric brushing over your skin, exposing the softness and heat of your bare waist to his touch. His palms glide over your skin.
You found yourself on your back, on the softness of your mattress, his weight settled on top of you. Delicate and warm. His hand grasps your thigh and he hoist it up his waist. “Please kiss me.” He murmurs into your mouth.
Your tongue brushes his, and he squeezes your thigh. He returns it, seeking your bottom lip to lightly suck on it. Your hands are up his shirt and he starts tugging down your loose pants. He shakily runs a finger between your legs and you inhale sharply. He rubs you, the feel of you soft, so good. He spreads you apart and gently caresses your clit. And you’re so fucking wet. He can't help but give a light sensual pinch. "Beomgyu," you moan on his lips. Made his heart flutter.
Your breathing is harsher and he looks at your pretty face as he shoves his middle finger in you—touching you is enough for him. He looks at you—wanting to see every expression you make. He’s going to fuck you until you cum all over his dick and then he’ll do it again. Until you don't doubt whatever this is. Until you won't be able to think about leaving him anymore.
He fumbles with your remaining clothes, taking his time as if savouring every second. It’s slower than you expected—partly because he keeps grabbing your face, pulling you into deep, heated kisses that leave you breathless.
Your hands help him get out of his shirt, pulls it over his head—hair falling over his forehead prettily. He leans down and kisses you—hands grab your hair and roam your body, his mouth does the same. Your face, your neck, your shoulder blades. "You're beautiful,"
He kisses down your chest and you run your fingers through his now much longer hair. He licks your nipple and your breath hitched. He bites gently, then bites harder and your back arches—he suckles, then lick. He does it again and again, to your left and right, giving them enough attention. He hears you moan—smirks at your skin—and he keeps wanting to hear it.
He goes down further—kisses down and the smell of you is divine. His face hovers and with his fingers he spreads you apart. He swallows—salivating. He sticks his tongue out, lightly licking your clit. He buries his face in, tongue inside, hands on your hips. "Shit, you taste so sweet, could eat this all day," He groans, lapping up, sucks the arousal out of you. He moves up, nose bumping on your clit then he suckles. His dick is throbbing at the way you taste. Your hands pull his hair, and he feels you down on his chin. He was leaving no parts untouched by his warm mouth.
Going back to you, looking at your face, he bows his head. “Kiss me.”
You pull his head down and kiss him, he slides right in and you cry out. "Fuck, you're so tight," He kisses you while he trusts in and out, your moans muffled on his mouth. "You feel so good," Your nails on his back scrape and he thrusts, hard, and keeps himself all the way in and you squirm under him, feeling you coming close.
"More, gyu." You whine out, legs gripping his warm waist as you pull him closer. He did, trust becoming faster, hitting the spot that made you moan out his name. He repositions himself deeper inside you, pressing you into the mattress, his free hand reaching for your clit, rubs lightly. "M'close," Then you felt it, the warm fuzzy feeling—the rush, almost blinding—the warmth of his arms and the softness of his whispered name on your lips that brought tears to your eyes. His own cum mixing with yours.
He smiled down at you, his lips quirking in a soft, almost shy grin as he took in your fucked-out expression. “I love you,” he whispered. He can't help himself.
The faint sound of running water filled the room as he disappeared for a second, and you assumed he was cleaning himself up. When he returned, his pants sit low on his hips, his chest still bare, and in his hand, he holds a warm, damp cloth.
Your eyes follow him as he approaches, his eyes filled with so much love it made your chest ache. He kneels beside you, his touch was careful as he ran the cloth over your skin, wiping away, cleaning you up. He worked slowly, keeping one of his hand holding your own, focus entirely on you.
When he was done, he looked up at you with that same soft smile, his eyes searching yours. You feel your own lips curve in response, reaching out to touch his flushed cheeks, your fingers brushing against his warm skin. The simple touch makes his smile widen into a boyish grin. His grin burned into the back of your mind. He holds you. He holds your heart too.
I love you too.
The warm rays of the morning sun seeped through the thin walls of the tent, casting a golden glow over the room. Dust motes floated in the light, drifting toward the tangled mess of blankets wrapped around your body.
It was the best sleep you’d had in a long time. You didn’t even remember falling asleep. A yawn slipped past your lips as you stretched your arms, rolling over to the other side.
You weren't alone.
Beomgyu.
He looked so peaceful when he slept, his features soft and unguarded. The sunlight kissed his skin, giving it a honeyed glow, and his hair fell messily over his forehead, looking impossibly touchable. The blanket on his side was pushed low, revealing that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His pale chest and neck were scattered with faint love bites—marks you had left there. His lips were slightly parted, and he looked so utterly…. serene, it made your chest swell.
You reached out, your fingers gently comb his hair. “Beomgyu,” you murmured softly.
"Hm?" He hummed.
You smiled, and he returned it—his smile lazy, but somehow brighter than the sunlight spilling into the room. “Hi, baby,” he greeted,
"It's morning,"
He groaned lightly, shifting closer to you. “I think… we should stay here,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and slow, as though speaking was too much effort. He moved until he was pressed against you, his head resting on your bare chest as he planted soft, sleepy kisses against your skin.
“I have things to do, you know,” you protested lightly, though you made no move to stop him. Instead, you let your arms encircle him, cradling his head. His hand slid beneath the blanket, settling on the small of your back, familiar against your bare skin.
“Wake up,” you poked his cheek with your finger.
He parted his lips and let out an exaggerated, snore that startled a laugh out of you. “Idiot,” you said, shaking your head, though the fondness in your tone betrayed you. “I’ll give you an hour. After that, Captain Joon is going to start looking for me.”
"Let him look," Beomgyu groaned, burying his face deeper into your chest like a stubborn child. “But why is he always looking for you?”
“Because he’s my captain, you twat,” you replied, pinching his cheeks. “And, oh yeah, he’s my father.”
“What!?” Beomgyu shot up, his eyes now wide open and his sleepiness completely forgotten.
“Well, my adoptive father," Beomgyu’s eyes softened instantly at the word adoptive. He didn’t press, but his silence, the slight tilt of his head, was an invitation to continue if you were ready.
“Yeah, so, uh…” You swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting slightly. “My parents were both special forces soldiers. When they were on a mission—a spy operation—they… they didn’t make it back. I was five.”Hi hand found yours, his fingers squeezing gently.
“I was sent to an orphanage after that,” you continued, your voice steadier now. "I was there for a few years. Then, when I was ten, Captain Joon showed up out of nowhere. Turns out, he was my dad’s best friend. He adopted me. Took me in like I was his own.”
Beomgyu nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “How did you end up being a soldier?” he asked softly.
A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips. “I guess it was always in me,” you admitted. “Even as a kid. Captain Joon saw that too. I was… kind of wild. Always getting into trouble at school—detentions, fights. I couldn’t stand bullies, even when they weren’t targeting me. I’d step in, no matter the cost.” You paused, letting out a quiet laugh. “It got worse when I got older. One time, I was walking home, and this group of older boys jumped me. They were bigger, stronger… I didn’t stand a chance. Captain Joon saw what happened, and after that, he decided to put me somewhere I couldn’t get hurt like that anymore. He took me with him—in a military camp.”
Your fingers brushed the hem of the blanket, your voice growing quieter. “I officially became a soldier when I was seventeen. Got into the Black Berets a year later.”
Beomgyu traced the line of your jaw with his fingers, his gentle touch made the words come easier.
“The time you asked me how old I was when I started…” You hesitated, but his intertwined hands with yours encouraged you to continue. “I got rude because… that question was asked of me once before. By someone. He was bitten by the infected, and I—” Your voice cracked, “I ended up killing him.”
You couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t bear the thought of seeing judgment—or worse, pity—staring back at you, but Beomgyu didn’t let you hide. His hands cupped your face, tilting it up until your eyes met his.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said, “He’s not suffering anymore.”
Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you nodded. He wrapped his arms around you, guiding your head to rest against his chest. No words were spoken. For minutes, you stayed like that, listening to the thump of his heart against yours, a language of its own.
"I should probably be more careful around Captain Joon,” Beomgyu said out of nowhere, trying to lighten the mood.
You laughed, arms around you holding you closer. When he noticed you staring at him, he tilted his head slightly, his expression playful. “What? Too handsome?”
“Pfft,” you snorted. “Androgynous.” He whined dramatically, leaning in to pepper your face with kisses. You tried to push him away, laughing as he chased your retreating lips.
“Who would’ve thought,” he murmured, “that I’d fall in love with the prettiest girl at the end of the world?”
The words brought heat to your cheeks, and you turned your face away to hide the blush. “Okay, that’s enough,” you said, slipping out of his hold and reaching for the first shirt you could find—it was his.
He sat up too, watching you pull his shirt over your body. The hem brushed your thighs, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He gathers your hair that had gotten caught under the shirt, his fingers brushing against your neck. "I need to shower, Beomgyu."
"Can I join you? You know, to save water," He immediately quips. You smirk, your eyes meeting his before you give him a subtle nod. That tiny gesture is all it takes for his heart to race, he’s sure you can hear it.
In fact, there was barely any washing done.
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Beomgyu finally steps out of your tent, though it took more convincing from you than it probably should have.
You’re still inside, safe from the prying eyes. The sun is higher now, casting everything in a harsh light. He squints, adjusting to the brightness, and immediately spots a few soldiers milling about nearby.
His stomach drops. If any of them so much as glance his way, they’ll know exactly where he just came from. Your tent. The only woman’s tent in a unit of 25 soldiers.
He keeps his head down, heat creeping up his neck and to his ears as he feels the unseen stares. The scenario playing out like an idol dating scandal—and dispatch is about to break the story of his life.
Choi Beomgyu, caught sneaking out of her tent at sunrise, he imagines the headline, biting back a groan. He quickens his pace, muttering to himself, "I’m so dead."
"Hold up."
A firm hand clamped down on Beomgyu's shoulder, halting his little walk of shame. His eyes widened as he turned, meeting the sharp gaze of Do-hyun. The older soldier’s eyes flicked back toward your tent—just six steps behind him—then back to Beomgyu’s freshly washed hair.
"And here I was, starting to feel sorry for you," Do-hyun said with a smirk. Beomgyu barely had time to stammer out a response before the tent flap rustled, and you stepped out.
"Do-hyun," Beomgyu glanced at you briefly, but you didn't meet his eyes, locked on Do-hyun instead. "Let’s go, yeah?" you asked, a pointed glare following the words.
Do-hyun chuckled, lifting his hands in mock surrender as he stepped back, releasing Beomgyu. "Sure, sure," he said, his smirk softening into something less smug.
The two of you walked off, leaving Beomgyu standing there, you glance back at him, catching a glimpse of his warm, flustered expression. Do-hyun caught it, muttering, "You’ve got him wrapped around your… finger,"
You didn’t even break stride, your foot shot out, connecting with his shin. Do-hyun yelped, doubling over, he clutched his leg. "Ow! Damn it, I was kidding!"
Beomgyu finally exhales when his tent comes into view, relief flooding his chest. He thought he was in the clear—until he steps inside and sees his three brothers waiting for him.
"Where the fuck were you?" Beomgyu knows he’s not getting out of this easily. This is going to be a long talk.
Beomgyu tells them. Everything. He leaves out the more private details—of course, he does. Some things are just for him to know. He starts from the beginning, telling them, that he just… fell in love with you.
The room goes quiet for a beat before Soobin steps forward, wrapping him in a hug, his voice soft. "Our little Beomgyu’s growing up," he says, sniffing dramatically.
Taehyun follows with a few firms pats on Beomgyu’s back, his smile warm. Yeonjun, leaning casually against the tent post, grins and shakes his head. "You lucky bastard," he teases, but there’s nothing but happiness in his voice.
The four of them embrace, there's a gap in their circle—a place reserved for someone who isn’t there yet but will be soon.
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The day passed with a warmth in your chest, fueled by stealing stares and fleeting touches from Beomgyu.
Lunch was a lively affair, shared with Do-hyun, Eun-woo, Beom-seok, Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun. The meal was filled with teasing banter, laughter cutting through the usual hum of camp life. Eun-woo’s soft pats on Beomgyu’s back and Beom-seok’s subtle nods didn’t go unnoticed—they were quiet acknowledgments.
Now, you walk toward the largest tent with your three teammates by your side. Beomgyu’s heated kiss still burns on your lips, the warmth of it fresh, even though it happened only an hour ago. — Captain Joon has called an unexpected night meeting, one that made Beomgyu pout as he agrees to wait at your tent.
The four of you step inside and salute, standing at attention until the captain’s familiar command: "Sit down."
The scene is one you’ve known many times before. Yet, there are absences that can't be ignored. Ji-ho, reporting in via radio, assures that he’ll be here soon with Huening Kai. — And Seo-jun.
“A brand-new mission for us,” Captain Joon announces, his eyes with a glimmer of hope rarely seen these days. “Word is there’s a doctor working on the possibility of a cure. And since Jeonju camp is the most stable for now, he’ll need assistance. This is the most critical priority, and we’ll be the ones handling it.”
Murmurs ripple through the group, surprised with cautious optimism. A cure—it sounds almost too good to be true. You let out a slow breath of relief, the faintest ember of hope flickering in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, humanity has a chance this time.
“We’re leaving in a few,” Captain Joon continues, his voice firm. “No time to waste.”
When you reach your tent, Beomgyu is already seated, and waiting. The moment he sees you, he stands, and you stride toward him without wasting any second, pressing your lips to his in a kiss he immediately melts into, “Are you okay?” he asks softly when you pull away, hands finding your waist.
“Hmm.” You nod, leaning into his embrace, arms wrapping around him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “We’re leaving now. Mission came in.”
Beomgyu stiffens. “Right now?"
“Yes.”
“O-okay.” His voice falters, and he swallows hard.
“It might take a while,” you admit, your hands sliding up to cup his face as you look into his wide, searching eyes. “It’s pretty far out, and I—”
“Come back to me safely,” he interrupts, his hands cradle your face. His thumbs gently brush your cheeks. “You don’t have a choice.”
A small smile tugs at your lips. You nod, "I promise.” Reaching up, you unclasp your dog tag, holding it carefully in your hands before slipping it around his neck. His eyes never leave yours, he watches you secure the chain.
“I’ll see you soon,”
He holds you.
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It’s been two days since you left, and Beomgyu sits at the table, pushing his food around more than eating it. His mind keeps drifting back to you. The weight of your necklace around his neck is comforting—but it reminds him you’re not here. He sighs.
“There's a car coming!” someone shouts from the outer courtyard. Beomgyu’s head snaps up, his heart skipping a beat. He’s out of his chair in an instant, sprinting toward the commotion, the rest of his members right on his heels. His breath comes fast, uneven, as he skids to a stop outside. His eyes widen, and for the first time in days, relief crashes over him.
“KAI!”
The four of them swarm the youngest member, nearly knocking him off his feet in their excitement. Kai’s laughter echoes through the courtyard as Soobin immediately bursts into tears, clinging to him like a lifeline. Beomgyu hugs him tightly, burying his face in his shoulder, while Yeonjun ruffles his hair affectionately. Taehyun, ever practical, starts inspecting Kai’s arms and legs for injuries.
Everything feels right. They’re together, whole. Now, he just needs you to get back here.
They fussed over Kai like he was the most fragile thing in the world, each of them trying to make up for lost time. Kai explained what happened—they had been trapped, which was why it took weeks to get here. But Ji-ho, just as you’d assured them before, had been capable. He’d taken care of Kai and somehow managed to get him back to them safely.
Later that night, Beomgyu was shuffling on his bed while Kai lounged comfortably nearby. It wasn’t long before the others would join them; Kai had pleaded for a sleepover with his brothers, saying he missed them too much to sleep alone. Of course, none of them could resist.
“Woah.” Kai says, and Beomgyu turned, pillow in hand, to see what had caught his attention. The younger was staring at the two Polaroids on Beomgyu’s bedside table, face lit with curiosity. “Is this real?”
“What, you think I Photoshopped them or something?” Beomgyu laughed, a little sheepishly. He paused, before adding, “I took those with her… on the way here.”
Kai’s eyes flicked back to him, curious. “You’re together?”
“Yeah.” Beomgyu’s lips tugged into a shy smile. “She’s my girlfriend now.”
Kai’s grin was blinding, his low ponytail framed his face as he leaned closer to get another look at the photos. “She’s pretty. I’m really happy for you, Beomgyu.”
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You step through the gates of Jeonju camp, your body aching. It’s been a month since you last saw this place—since you last saw him.
Your clothes are filthy, smeared with dirt and the blood of infected, but none of that matters now. The Doctor is alive, the cure is nearly complete, and your mission is done. You made it.
And then you see him.
Beomgyu is already running toward you, his eyes wide and filled with something that looks like disbelief, like awe, love. You can’t stop the smile that breaks across your face, even as your legs wobble beneath you. You start running too, stumbling at first, but your body pushes through the pain, the rest of the world blurring into nothing.
When you reach him, he doesn’t hesitate. His arms wrap around you tightly, lifting you off the ground. He holds you close. You cling to him, shaking from exhaustion and adrenaline and the overwhelming relief of being home—of being with him.
Everyone stops to watch. In a world so cruel, so damned, there’s something warm in the way two lovers find each other again.
A reminder to believe there’s still something worth fighting for.
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"See you soon, and take care of yourself," Soobin leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. You nod, offering a small smile. "You too."
His lips curve into that familiar, reassuring smile as he hoists his backpack over his shoulder. "Y/N, stay safe," Taehyun says, stepping in to wrap you in a firm hug. You nod on his shoulders.
"Let’s have ramyeon soon, yeah?" Yeonjun chimes in, his usual playful grin lighting up his face. Without waiting for a reply, he grabs your face in his hands and plants a kiss on your forehead, mirroring Soobin. "I’ll cook for you," he adds confidently, pulling back but keeping his hands on your cheeks.
You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. "Okay, Mr. Married to Ramyeon." He laughs too, giving your cheeks a playful pat before turning to follow Soobin and Taehyun onto the bus.
For a moment, you just stand there, watching the three of them board.
You turn to see Kai looking down at you, his expression shy. He pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you with surprising strength. "I’ll miss you," he sings softly.
It’s been three months since the doctor arrived at Jeonju camp with you. A month later he was in, and the cure was complete. Those who received the shot stopped being targeted by the infected—it was as if the vaccine turned them invisible. No more running, no more hiding.
After countless tests and trial runs, the results were undeniable: 100% effective. The world is still far from healed. There’s so much to rebuild, so much left to do. But this vaccine—it’s a start.
And now, Hybe is taking them back. Back to the world they belong to. Back to the life they’d almost forgotten was possible.
A warm hand slips into yours, and you glance up to meet Beomgyu’s glassy stare. Your eyes flicker to his neck—your dog tags still hang there, glinting in the light. He holds your hands and lifts them to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to your palms without breaking eye contact.
“I promise to come back to you as soon as I can, okay?” he whispers, "I promise."
You know the truth. You’ll never see him again. This is it.
You already have your orders—a mission overseas to distribute the cure, to spread it where it’s needed most. You don’t know when you’ll be back. Or if you’ll be back. The world finally has a chance, but your worlds were never meant to stay intertwined.
“Okay,” you say softly, forcing a small smile onto your lips. You’ll never wake up to the sound of his soft breaths against your skin again. You’ll never walk through the Daegu home he often described with so much warmth, never see the place where his happiest memories were made. A place he wants to go with you.
He’s an idol—a star shining too brightly for someone like you. A celebrity adored by millions. And you’re a soldier, bound by duty to serve your country. He deserves someone gentle, maybe an idol like him, or someone who fits seamlessly into his world. Someone who isn’t constantly called away to fight battles in far-off places.
It made you happy while it lasted.
This dream—this borrowed time you had.
“I love you,” he says suddenly,, and then he’s kissing you. Once, twice—then a third time, slower. He kisses the tip of your nose, and you smile through the tears that blur your vision. You stare at him, taking in everything—the curve of his lips, the softness in his eyes, the way his hair falls... across his forehead. You try to commit it all to memory. “I love you so much,” he says, voice trembling as he cups your face.
“I love you too,”
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YEAR 2030
You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly as the news plays in the background. The aroma of spices and fresh herbs fills the space. You chop vegetables for tonight’s dinner, the rhythm of the task bringing you peace. You always find yourself great with knives, you suppose.
A smile spreads across your face as you feel it—a pair of hands, warm, gently caressing your stomach. A body presses against your back, and a soft breath grazes the curve of your neck. The scent of him surrounds you, and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is.
When you do turn, you’re met with his smile—the one that lights up his entire face, even as exhaustion lingers in his eyes. He looks like he just got home, probably rushing straight from practice, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. Without a word, he drops to one knee, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his cheek against your growing belly.
“I missed the both of you,” he whispers, voice soft and full of love.
You laugh, your hand moving to his hair, your fingers combing through the soft freshly bleached blonde strands. “I don’t think they can hear you yet, Gyu,” you tease gently, your smile tender. “I’m only five months along.”
He tilts his head up to look at you, his lips forming a playful pout that makes you giggle like you’re both still teenagers. Standing, he cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks, wedding band catches the light, whispering of the life you’ve built together. The life you thought was impossible. But he made it—he made it possible.
If he wanted to—he would.
“I don’t care,” he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. Then your nose. And finally, your lips. His scent, his warmth, the way his heart beats against yours—he's home.
He holds you.
The only sound is the exchanged kisses and the faint murmur of the news on the television.
Following the record-breaking success of TOMORROW X TOGETHER’s latest comeback, member Beomgyu has surprised fans worldwide by releasing his first solo album, The Last Safe Place. The album, deeply supported by MOAs, has already sparked widespread buzz—not only for its musical brilliance but also for the heartfelt inspiration behind it: Beomgyu’s recent marriage.
“This album is a love letter, a reflection of the most meaningful chapter in my life,” Beomgyu shared. “It’s inspired by the warmth, comfort, and love I’ve found in my marriage. I wanted to capture the feeling of having someone to come home to—a place where your heart feels at peace, no matter what chaos the world throws at you.”
THE END.
314 notes · View notes
hyunsuloves · 2 days ago
Note
Hii!! Would you be willing to write some nam-gyu/player 124 x reader hcs? I just love roh jaewon sm <3
boyfriend nam-gyu in the games.
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warnings … this is kinda buns… that’s it
lovely notes … i lowkey hate how his character acts but i love roh jae-won too ᥫ᭡!!
꩜ [ 630 words ]
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boyfriend nam-gyu who didn’t tell you he was entering the games. he intended to disappear for a week, and then show up with some bullshit excuse and a large sum of money.
boyfriend nam-gyu who was pissed off beyond belief when he came to find out that you were in the games because of his debt. the salesman recruited you to ease your boyfriend's debt and unfortunately, you couldn’t resist.
boyfriend nam-gyu who wouldn’t allow you to leave his side. it irks thanos a little bit, but he doesn’t really say anything because you and nam-gyu are together.
boyfriend nam-gyu gyu who only votes to leave because of your presence. no amount of money could aid him if you were to die here, and all because of him.
boyfriend nam-gyu who gets into countless arguments over you. he’ll argue over the dumbest shit, like someone bumping into you and not apologizing. he feels the constant need to defend you but he tends to take it a bit far.
boyfriend nam-gyu who constantly has a hand on you. it may be on your waist, his fingers interlocked with yours, or his hands in your hair.
boyfriend nam-gyu who insists on a “good luck kiss” before each game. you both are well aware that he just wants an excuse to kiss you, but who’s going to complain about it?
boyfriend nam-gyu who would lose his mind if thanos were to say something about you. if something he said was the slightest bit of suggestive, he might actually fight him about it.
boyfriend nam-gyu who loathes seeing any other player talking to you. even if it’s simplistic small talk to pass the time, he feels a surge of jealousy seeing other people interact so casually with you.
boyfriend nam-gyu who has you alongside him during every game. you don’t really have a choice because he has a vice grip on your hand. you couldn’t go anywhere even if you wanted to.
boyfriend nam-gyu who encourages you to stay away from thanos. he knows he’s a terrible person and despite hanging out with him, he doesn’t want you anywhere near a person as heinous as him. he definitely doesn’t want you taking whatever drugs thanos has on him.
boyfriend nam-gyu who always offers you a portion of his food. he’s a little greedy and secretly wants to keep it all to himself, but he puts your well-being before him, so he always offers you a piece.
boyfriend nam-gyu who sleeps in the bed directly next to yours. the beds are so tiny and can barely fit two people, so he finds peace in sleeping in the bed adjacent to yours.
boyfriend nam-gyu who only allows himself to be vulnerable with you during lights out. he doesn’t want any other players to view your affection as a weakness and use it against either one of you. so, the only time you see the true doting state of your boyfriend is when no one else can see.
boyfriend nam-gyu who wants nothing more than to be affectionate around you, but he knows he can’t for the sake of both of your safety. if he wants the two of you to make it out alive, he’s well aware that he has to put on an uncaring facade in the face of everyone else.
boyfriend nam-gyu who would kill someone for you. it’s a terrifying concept, yet not an unusual one amid the deaths all around. it’s slightly unnerving how quick he’d end other players life in your defense.
boyfriend nam-gyu who has plans to take you out somewhere after you get out of here. he’s the reason you’re here in the first place, and the least he can do is try to make it up to you.
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nick-writes-stuff · 2 days ago
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One-sided Reunion
In-ho/Young-il x gn!reader
Summary: You had been friends with In-ho since you were kids. In the games, there is a man who reminds you of the ghost from your past. In-ho couldn't help but ask you about him, and after the conversation goes poorly, he realizes how dire your situation is.
! warnings: discussing canon-typical violence
a/n: it's finally here! this was so fun to write, and i'm so excited to start writing more for squid game characters. there may be a part two to this one, so keep an eye out if you're interested.
In-ho expected a lot of things when he decided he would go undercover as a player in the newest set of games. He expected Player 456 to try to help the others beat the game with his past experiences. He expected to witness the plans to overthrow the gamemakers in action. He expected the usual danger and chaos and violence. He'd seen his fair share of games before.
He had never expected to see you. He must have skipped over your file during the recruitment process.
This was a pleasant surprise, of course. He always knew that leaving you behind was one of the hardest things he had to do when he left. Sure, leaving his family was another regret as well, but they had definitely become fed up with his behavior before he left for the games. And now, with what happened with Jun-ho, he grew to accept the fact that that bridge had been burned.
He didn't even know how you would have ended up in a place like this anyway. You were never the type to gamble, get caught up in illegal activity, or associate with loan sharks and the like. He figured you must have been there either to help someone or because someone dragged you down with them. He later found this out to be the case, as your father had been having money troubles and used you to try to dig himself out of the hole he made. In-ho had never liked your father.
The first time he saw you, his gaze lingered for a moment to try to make sure it was really you. Luckily, you hadn't noticed him staring, and he averted his gaze to avoid your suspicion. During the preparation process, he did catch you staring at him, however. He pretended not to notice. He didn't change too much appearance-wise since you last saw him, but the years apart were enough to cloud your memory for him to go unnoticed. His demeanor had definitely changed since you saw him as well. He was hardly the same man you knew.
You had definitely changed as well. You were still undeniably you, but there was a bit of that infectious spark gone from you. Your eyes were no like bright and expressive, likely from the struggles you face outside. He wondered how much of those struggles were caused by him. The two of you were very close growing up, and while the bond with his wife and his brother had been stronger, both of those bonds have been permanently severed. Your bond with him may also be severed by this point. He wouldn't know.
When you first started hanging around Gi-hun's group, he realized how much he has really missed you. Your humor, your wit, your compassion. You both worked amazingly together, and it felt like old times. He watched over you in the games as much as he could without suspicion.
After Mingle, Gi-hun had suggested that they start maintaining a look-out schedule to ensure the X's safety during the night. He seemed to anticipate another fight like the one that occurred during his first game. He was entirely correct in this assumption, as the Special Game was scheduled to start the next day after dinner. Dae-ho and himself were given first watch, but the ex-marine tapped out rather quickly. He left to go wake up someone else to continue.
When he heard footsteps, he turned to look but he couldn't make out anything except the red X patch on the jacket.
"Mind if I sit?" He heard your voice.
He shook his head. "No, it's fine."
You sat next to him with a soft yawn. While he and Dae-ho had been sitting in near silence, the two of you couldn't resist quietly chatting. About the games, about the voting situation, about the other players. Once you exhausted those topics, the conversation moved to things more personal.
"You know, you remind me of someone I knew outside of here." You said softly, looking over to the man beside you. You could hardly read the expression on his face in the dark, but you think he raised an eyebrow.
He was conflicted. On one hand he wanted to know how you felt about him—the real him—after he had left, but he didn't know how he would feel about your answer. What if you hated him? He knew how his mother and brother likely felt, and with his wife passing, you were really his only other connection to his life before the games.
Ultimately, he gave into the gnawing curiosity and decided to play along. "Oh really?".
You nodded. "Yeah, you look a lot like him." You started, pausing for a moment as you thought. "Or at least what I remember him looking like."
He acted puzzled by your phrasing, but he knew where this was going. "What do you mean by that?" He asked.
Your expression darkened, looking away from the man inside you. "I haven't seen him in a long time. It's been almost 4 years since he..." You trailed off, not knowing how to put the situation into words.
Young-Il frowned slightly. "Oh... I'm sorry. How did he pass?" He asked.
You shook your head. "No, he isn't dead. At least I don't think he is." You said before sighing. Your gaze lowered to your lap as you began fidgeting with your fingers
"He was a friend of mine since we were kids. I lived a few minutes away from where he and his brother lived. I remember he would always walk me home to my house and then turn around and go to his house. His mom was always annoyed with him because of it but he never stopped." You recalled, chuckling softly.
He forced his expression to remain the same even though he wanted to smile as he, too, recalled this pleasant memory. "He sounds like he is a great man." He said.
"Oh, he's the best." You said with a smile. "He had always been the kind of person that would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. He even donated his kidney to his younger brother when he had gotten sick."
He had two internal reactions to your description of him. Part of him was beaming with pride as you described him, glad you still thought of him highly after so many years. But there was also a pit forming in the bottom of his stomach as he wondered how you would react if you knew what he had actually been doing in the past few years.
He pressed further, indulging his curiosity about what you thought of him after everything that had happened. "What happened to him?" He asked, pausing before continuing, "If you don't mind me asking, that is."
You shook your head, murmuring a soft. "No, it's fine." before beginning: "Life gave him a bad deal. His wife had gotten sick, and they were struggling to pay for her treatments. He got fired from him job as a police officer. His brother told me he accepted a bribe, but I can't imagine him doing that."
He nodded slightly, making sure his expressions didn't raise any suspicion.
"His wife passed away in the hospital shortly after, and he kind of just disappeared. Packed some stuff and wasn't heard from again." You finished your thought. You took a deep breath to try to keep your composure.
He frowned. "That's awful." He said, shaking his head. Part of him felt awful for prompting you to talk about this when it clearly upset you, but another part selfishly wanted to know what you and his family thought of him now. He felt like a ghost haunting his own funeral, getting to find out what others thought of him when he shouldn't have been able to hear it. "Did anyone ever figure out what happened to him?"
You shook your head. "No. His brother tried to push for an investigation, but the leads ran dry. I know his family is still hoping that he's out there somewhere, but at least his brother is starting to lose that hope." You said.
"What do you think happened?"
The second he asked it, he wished he could take it back. You looked over at him in shock at his eagerness to know.
He felt his heart in his throat as he bowed his head slightly began to speak. "That was out of line, I apologize. I was wondering-"
"No it's fine I just..." You cut him off before pausing. "I just haven't tried to give it too much thought. Sounds too macabre."
Young-il nodded, understanding your hesitation. "That makes sense. I couldn't imagine that being an easy task."
In-ho, however, was somewhat dissatisfied with your answer. He struggled to believe that you hadn't given his disappearance thought until now.
The two of you sat in silence for a moment. The pause was much more awkward than he would have preferred. He thought about excusing himself to get out of the conversation, but you began to speak before he could suggest the idea.
"Honestly, it doesn't really matter what happened to him." You said softly.
His expression quickly turned into an almost confused disgust. What do you mean you don't care what happened to him? He was clearly taken aback by your comment.
You also gave him a puzzled look. He quickly remembered that he shouldn't have reacted so strongly to your statement. It definitely seemed strange for someone you had just met to react that way to a situation that didn't involve him.
Luckily, instead of questioning him, you rephrased your statement. "I mean that in the sense that no matter what happened, I just hope he's happy. I don't need an answer about his whereabouts specifically, but I just want to know if he's okay." You said, taking a deep breath to try to maintain your composure.
"How are you content with sitting by and not searching for him? If I were in your shoes, I would find him over anything." Young-il asked, trying to sound as empathetic as possible. Hopefully, you take his statement as him asking for advice rather than an attack on your character.
Your head snapped up to look at him. Your eyes narrowed as your gaze turned to a glare. You definitely didn't take that as a request for advice.
"Excuse me?" You asked, your voice louder than before but not loud enough to cause a commotion during lights out.
He tried to salvage the situation. "That came out the wrong way. What I meant was-"
"I really don't care what you meant. I just don't appreciate you accusing me of not caring about my best friend."
"That was not my intention. I was just..." He trailed off. Wait. Your best friend? You still considered him your best friend even after all these years.
He didn't have a lot of time to ponder your statement as you continued.
"I love him, okay? I've known him since I was seven years old. I would do anything to find him. You have no idea how desperately I searched for him, even longer than the police and his brother."
He couldn't do anything but sit there and take it all in. The whole situation was somewhat poetic. He was both the object of your fury and your admiration. You spat words at him about how much you cared about him.
You paused for a moment to sniffle softly and wipe the tears running down your cheeks. You took a deep breath before continuing. Your voice was quieter and your words were chosen more deliberately, but he could tell you were just as angry as before.
"My acceptance of his disappearance is not because I don't care about him. If he is out there living somewhere else without me in his life, that's fine as long as he's happy. I've only accepted the fact that maybe I wasn't enough for him, okay? Good enough of an answer for you?"
Despite all of the thoughts running through his head, he couldn't manage to say anything in response to you. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. After a moment of waiting, you scoffed and stood up. You headed back toward your bed, intending to wake up Gi-Hun for him to continue watch with Young-il.
In-ho knew he shouldn't have pried any further. How did he think you would be okay with him asking such questions? To you, he was a stranger, so he shouldn't have been so invested in your answers, but he couldn't resist. He really didn't have anything to lose at this point. This time tomorrow, he would be back in his position of the Front Man, and you could very well die in the games.
That realization hit him like a sack of bricks.
You could die in the games.
And he would have to watch it happen.
He felt a pit forming in the bottom of his stomach, finally beginning to comprehend the severity of the situation you both were in. He wasn't sure why it hadn't hit him earlier. Maybe while he was still a player, he thought he would be able to better protect you. But whenever he steps back into his role, he was going to be powerless to save you.
Ironic, considering he was one of, if not the most, influential man in the games.
Wait. He wasn't powerless at all. Quite the opposite, actually. It wouldn't be easy, but he could pull some strings to help increase the odds of your survival. He could do it tactfully in hopes that the staff wouldn't pick up on his intentions. But even if they did, it was highly unlikely any of them would have the gumption to confront him about it.
Even so, it seems like the players may choose to terminate the games after the tied vote anyway. If he played his cards right, he could orchestrate a way for you to come across him in the outside world.
But there was a glaring problem with this plan. If he ever met you in person again, you would likely realize that he was Young-il even if he introduced himself as In-ho. During the games, your constant adrenaline and overall fatigue would cloud your perception for now, but in the outside world, you likely would be able to see through the man's dual identities. Assuming you made it through the games. He had faith that you are capable of doing so, but this group of players is highly chaotic.
If you ever did find out about his position in the games, would you ever be able to forgive him for causing you and countless others so much pain and suffering? Thousands of players have died in the games, and some would argue that, therefore, they died by his hands. Even more than that, their families have to deal with the sudden disappearance of their loved ones. People outside the games would never understand that the positives outweigh the suffering tenfold.
There was one glimmer of hope left for him to ponder. You did say that you would do anything to have him back in your life.
Maybe anything could include setting aside your morals and accepting that the games do have merit to them. All he's doing is trying to better the world. No matter how unpleasant the means.
He made up his mind. He'd do whatever he could to get you out of there. He wouldn't make you win, of course. That would be too far and a clear violation of the rules. It was also wholly unnecessary for his reasoning.
However, getting you out unharmed is doable. That's something they've all done before after Il-nam wanted to become a player. And it was even happening with himself to a lesser extent. There's nothing that could stop him from pulling you out one way or another.
There were a lot of problems that may occur. Would you realize he was himself and not just Young-il? Would you even give him the time of day once learning his role in all of this? Could you even forgive him for leaving in the first place?
No matter. You were really his last shot at having any aspect of his past life back. He has no job to return to. His wife is gone. And he ruined any chance of reuniting with his brother when he put the bullet in his chest. You were it for him.
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thanosscross · 2 days ago
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Can I request a enemies to lovers with thanos?
I love ur writing n his character ty!
of course!! We love Thanos in this household <3 and thank you <3 I absolutely love the support I've been getting just in the one day this accounts been up <3 I do wanna say thank you guys along with a thank you to my fiancee with her amazing help with this <3 >< while I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers I'm terrible at writing pre-relationship fight scenes without a full blueprint, so my fiancee's help and obsession with the Enemies to Lovers trope definitely made this story into what it is <33
I fucking hate you - Choi Su-bong/Thanos x reader
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Summary: You vowed to always hate Choi Su-bong, not only did he ruin your life but he was also just an asshole. Su-bong vowed to always hate y/n not only was she a bitch she costed him his only shot at a big rap career, so what happens whenever you two see each other after years in a death game for cash?
warnings: none really? Thanos being an ass for about..the first half
Growing up with Choi Su-Bong was your personal hell, he was your neighbor, and he always had something to bitch about towards you, always calling you out in front of the school, even going as far as coming up with MULTIPLE different stories to make you lose your spot as top of the class. Su-bong ruined your chance at any good future, forcing you to stay trapped in the same neighborhood you grew up in, while he started his rap career.
It wasn't like you were innocent either, while Su-bong went for public humiliation with your shared classmates, you went for his parents, charming them with your nice good girl demeanor, becoming his 'babysitter' (They never trusted Su-bong alone, even at 16/17) and tutor, snitching him out for any little thing you could find out about, making his home life even more of a personal hell for him. So you both hated each other for pretty respected reasons, you ruined each others potential futures, and never acknowledged it. After he moved away with his rap career blowing up, you thought you were finally free of him and his constantly ruining your life, until the debt came. Your mom got sick, your dad up and left one day, so financials were solely on you, shoving you deep into thousands of wons in debt.
You were close to ending it, going on a walk towards the old trainyards, whenever you ran into a way too well dressed man to be there, he offered you a fix, something you took without a second thought.
Red light, Greenlight was going great, until you and everybody else realized you weren't just being taking out of the running for the cash, you were risking your life. You stood frozen, keeping your eyes squeezed shut as you waited for the doll to turn back around "Holy shit! Holy shit! Y/n!?" You heard a grating voice shout out behind you, of course he was here, why couldn't you ever do something without him ruining it. Standing still, not wanting to move until you were allowed to, you continued to hear Thanos's shouts, as greenlight was called, you tried to hide yourself in the crowd, not wanting to interact with him, but, like always, he found someway to ruin it for you. As red light was called, Thanos's high ass skipped over slamming into you almost knocking you off of your feet, before you could make contact with the ground, two arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against him, smirking as he used to opportunity of being stuck on redlight to be close to you "Y/n! What are you doin here!?" He gasped practically shouting in your face, as the doll's head turned again you shoved him back "Let go of me, you fucking drug addict, we are NOT friends" You seethed, okay so maybe you blamed Su-bong for a alot of things that happened after he left, but you didn't care, he was an easy person to blame.
Thanos gave an overdramatic pained expression as he rested a hand on his chest, rushing to stay caught up with you "C'mon! Y/n!" He shouted spinning around you to face you as the doll's head spun "Su-Bong! Please! Leave me alone! We aren't friends! We never fucking were! I hate you! I fucking hate you so much! You ruined my fucking life!" You growled trying to hide your body behind his to keep you out of view of the doll "Psh! I ruined your life!? You ruined my life! Do you not understand that!?" He shouted, his excited playful demeanor shifted, he was angry now, how dare you say that? You were at every corner to him ruining his life. You felt the same about him though, especially right now "I didn't do shit!" You scoffed "You did drugs! In school! So yea! I told your parents! So you told everybody in school including the principal and my parents that I've fucked every teacher since the start of high school!" You shouted "I got kicked out of school for the rest of the year! Do you know how bad that ruined my life!?" You finished punching his chest as hard as you could "Uhm! Ow! And you didn't just tell my parents! I was about to sign on to a recording label and you fucked that up for me being a bitch!" He argued, if it weren't for the fact the Doll's head still faced towards you, you were sure that you would've stormed off by now.
You took off as soon as the doll's head turned back around, making it past the red colored line in the sand, trying to stay away from everybody until it was lights out. You were almost successful, until somebody used their bodyweight and arm to pin you against the wall "Why can't you just admit that you were a bitch?" He snapped, only now did you realize it was your walking curse, Su-bong "Why can't you just admit you're an arrogant asshole who only cares about himself" You snapped, trying to shove him away like usual, but this time was different than all the other times growing up, this time he didn't stumble, his body didn't even shift under it, he just stood there stiff, you'd be lying if you said it didn't scare you a little bit, now realizing maybe those times you 'beat his ass' he let you, because now, feeling trapped between him and the wall, your shoves and hits not phasing him in the slightest, truly shook you to your core with fear, he could do anything at this point, you couldn't let him see though, you'd just feed into his stupid cocky attitude even more.
"Admit. You. ruined. everything. for me. bitch" he seethed, Su-bong leaning closer to your face, you could feel his breath on your face at this point.
Su-bong smiled, the look on your face was one he had been trying to get for years, who knew all it took was just hiding the face a few punches really fuckin hurt "Go on. say it" He whispered, you shivered, your panicked eyes scanning over his face, before taking in a shaky breath "Let me go" You snapped before a hand landed on Su-bong's shoulder "The young lady said to let her go, I advise you do so" A man threatened from behind, Su-bong smirked slowly turning around before realizing the man was about half a foot taller than him "Fine. fine. but she'll admit eventually" Su-bong said, giving you one last glare, before the man, number 001, stepped closer "I'm Young Il, who was that guy?" He introduced himself watching as you fixing your jacket and huffed "An asshole I used to live by, I'm y/n" You explained, he nodded, offering you take you over to where him and his friends sat.
Thanos sat next to his bunk, watching you closely, he couldn't describe it, but seeing you talking to somebody else made him feel crazier than any drug, it had always been that way, the entire reason he started hating you was because you were always interested in everybody except him, and it pissed him off, he knew he was hot, he knew he could ask out just about any girl he sees who knows him and she'll be ecstatic, but you acted like he was scum, just because he took some pills and smoked some weed to feel better about things. Nam-Gyu huffed, noticing his friend hadn't been listening that entire time he was talking, he followed his eye line, noticing you laughing and talking with two of the men from before, the crazy guy and the one who stopped them from beating that stealing bitcoin asshole's ass.
As the lights went out, Su-bong stayed in his place, watching say your goodnights to the group you had been with, he knew you had to walk right by him to get to your bunk, he knew yours was the one right next to his, thank god. As you approached him, you never realized until you were basically tripping over him on the stairs, scoffing you caught yourself on the bed "Seriously?" You growled, letting yourself fall onto your bed, as he took in your location, he slowly crawled to you "Join my team" he offered, you laughed loudly, quickly covering your mouth to not disturb the other players "Yea...no" You laughed looking at him, you couldn't see it in the dark, but Su-bong got visibly pissed off with your response "It wasn't a question" He demanded, glaring at you, you wanted so badly to just punch him in the head, but you just turned your back to him "Goodnight su-bong" He stopped at your reply, yes you weren't agreeing, but that was the first somewhat nice thing you had said to him in awhile, even if it was to cut him off and end the conversation he wasn't done with. Huffing and falling back onto his bed, he laid on his side to watch you, half because if you got killed, he'd be damned if it was anybody but him doing the deed, and half because he didn't want you sneaking off to go lay with the old dick that interrupted him from earlier.
He watched you toss and turn for hours, not really knowing when you fell asleep because he had passed out himself, waking up whenever the loud trumpets sounded off, and the lights flicked on, he slowly sat up, quickly checking his necklace was still around his neck, and you were still in bed. You were, your blanket wrapped tightly around you, Su-bong marveled for a moment, before realizing you were still deep in sleep, unphased by the loud music and lights. He slowly moved across the stairway, ghosting a hand over your back "Y/n. Y/n it's to wake up" He said, trying to be loud enough to wake you up, you did infact wake up, but with a jolt, turning quickly and grabbing Su-bong's hand, stopping at the very last second before your fist connected with his jaw "Hey!" He protested, attempting to lean out of the way "The next game is gonna start"
The next game you played was six legs, which went as smoothly as it could have been, you stuck with Young-Il and his friends, which in the end you realized was a good choice. Making your way through dinner and lights out was your next issue, Su-bong was starting to get on your nerves and you couldn't understand why he was so clingy all of a sudden "I thought I said to join my team?" he asked you, the lights had gone out long ago, and your back was to him "And i thought I laughed in your face and told you no?" You asked turning on your side to face him "I don't like that guy, or you being around him" He stated, going to lean closer to you but you beat him to it, shoving your finger at his chest "I don't care, young-il is sweet and cares about me, unlike some people! Su-bong you are the most selfish person I fucking know, who knows if I would be betrayed and killed because of you! You ruined everything I worked so hard for! ruined my name! And you think you can boss me around!?" You shouted, every shout followed by a harsh hit to the shoulder or chest, you couldn't help it, he pissed you off. Su-bong was feeling something else though, the more you shouted at him, the more his eyes were drawn your lips rather than your words, You were too caught up in your shouts to notice though, that was until his fingers rested on your chin tilting your head up so you were making direct eye contact "Shut up." He demanded "Just go to bed, whatever the game is, you'll need sleep" He explained, you were too stunned to say anything, instead just ripping your head away from him and laying down in your bed "You shut up" You grumbled, trying to hide your flustered face, no way you were about to show or admit that you were flustered by that selfish dick.
During Mingle you tried to stick with Young-il, but Nam-Gyu, Su-Bong, and Min-su kept grabbing you and forcefully taking you with them, until it just turned into just Su-bong pulling you into a room with him "Why can't you just leave me alone!?" You cried out, you were trying so hard to avoid him, and yet he was trying his best to run into you. "I told you to stay away from young il" his voice was low and deep, you glared at him, you thought you made yourself clear last night, before you could start back up though, Su-bong was right in front of you, leaning down and pressing a finger to your lips "Don't wanna hear it" He interrupted before looking at you "Why don't you want me?" He asked tilting his head, you glared at him "Because you're a selfish self entitled asshole?" You asked like it was obvious, Su-bong huffed "Even in school, every chick wanted me, why not you?" He asked tilting his head, you just rolled your eyes "Just because I don't throw myself at you, doesn't mean I never wanted you, you just ruined it by being you" You huffed, sighing in relief hearing the lock unlock, you rushed out, desperate to just get back to the room.
Meal time was weird, you surprised yourself by sitting with Su-bong and his friends, Thanos quickly leaning over, pulling you down to sit across from him, smirking at you "Welcome to the Thanos world" He said, you just rolled your eyes at him scoffing "Don't ruin it" You warned raising an eyebrow, you continued to eat your food, finally opening your milk taking a huge drink, normally it wouldn't be your choice of drink to chug, but after running around so much, you needed literally anything. You heard Su-bong scoff this time, causing you to look up at him confused "Why do women drink something leave it on their lip, and act like they don't know?" He asked aloud, but by his eye contact you could tell it was directed towards you "I'm sorry?" You asked going to wipe your mouth but he leaned up quickly "Don't! That's disgusting" He grimaced before leaning over the stairwell to copy his actions from the night before, using his index and thumb to tilt your head up, thinking he was going to wipe it off with his jacket, you were shocked to feel his soft lips against yours. You shuddered feeling his tongue swipe swiftly over your top lip before he pulled away sitting back down, continuing to eat like he didn't just do that.
Your cheeks were bright with a blush as you now sipped the rest of your milk, careful not to get anymore on your lips, if you did, you made sure to lick your lips before Su-bong could take notice. Any crumbs left on your lips after you were done eating he was also quick to wipe those off, almost like you couldn't on your own or you needed to be supervised while you ate. Whenever lights out came it was even more odd, instead of his usual crawling over to bother you, he quietly whispered your name from his spot on his bunk "What?" You asked, your tone coming off a little bit more harsh than you intended "Sorry...it's just, did you mean what you said earlier?" He asked, you sighed turning around to face him "I thought you were really hot for awhile, all of my friends knew it, it's just, you started acting like an ass, and then I lost a trip to college because of you" You explained "And I guess I just didn't have time to think like that because I was busy being mad at you" you explained, you watched him frown and his eyebrows furrow in confusion "I..I never meant to do that..I just wanted you to like..get in trouble or something" He whispered "I was just...You planted my friends drugs on me, told my parents and I couldn't make it to a meeting I had that could've launched my rap career into space" He whispered, now it was your turn to feel bad, you didn't mean to do all of that, just get him grounded for a little bit. It was your turn to crawl to his bunk, giving him a awkward hug "I..I didn't mean to do that..I just..you ruined that for me and you were just getting off without any troubles..parties every week, so..I thought if I took the parties and stuff away it'd give you some type of punishment" you mumbled, Su-bong leaned up hugging you back "Yea..You were pretty lame" He whispered nodding along to agree with his own comment "Shut up, you were a stupid idiot" You defended pulling away from the hug "Why did I ever think I could forgive you" You giggled, tilting your head slightly as you smiled at him, never would you have thought you'd be having a civil conversation with this dickhead, let alone laughing and smiling with him "Aw, c'mon beauty flower, everybody forgives thanos" He teased, you gawked at him in second hand embarrassment, he did not just say that. "I actually fucking hate you" You said, the smile on your face an obvious sign that maybe you didn't hate him as much as you say. "What? Beauty flower? or the fact that you'll forgive me" He asked wiggling his eyebrows at you, you just laughed, you felt like a young teenager again, before your feud started with Su-bong and the drugs and debt started with you both. "Both! Don't call me beauty flower, and I will not be forgiving you" You protested, Su-bong pouted, you took your chance to shock him this time and pressed your lips against his pouting ones, his hand immediately came in contact with your ass trying to pull you closer, you just rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand moving it to your cheek pressing your lips completely against his, taking a breath of relief whenever he kissed back, his lips moving with yours like it had been rehearsed before. As you pulled away, Su-bong huffed tugging his tracksuit pants down "Now I fucking hate you" He smirked reaching for his necklace "Me first" You smirked before moving back to your bunk giving him a final wink before turning around "Goodnight...thanos" You said, not being able to believe you actually just called him that "Night, pretty girl" you heard say with a large amount of cockiness in his voice, he couldn't help it though, even now if he went home, he'd have enough for his debts, and just kissed the girls he's wanted to kiss since he learned what kissing girls was.
--
so what do we think?
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flowersforthemachines · 3 days ago
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Some facts about Neve (and Tevinter) gathered from the banters
I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).
Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)
Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.
Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later
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About Neve:
General:
Neve isn’t rich, and her best coat is a gift from a grateful tailor after she saved his warehouse from an arsonist
Neve’s coat is woven with enchantments to resist fire and lighting 
Neve has never done blood magic. She is against it on principle and judges those who use it 
Neve doesn’t seem to like entertaining extreme hypotheticals since she reacts to Harding’s questions like “What would you take with you to a deserted island?” with asking why she would end up in such situations in the first place 
Neve wouldn’t want gems on her leg, because she thinks they would get stolen within a day of working in Minrathous, and she generally prefers to keep a low profile while on the job
However, she still considers saving up for a new, fancier leg to have more fashion choices. She likes Taash’s idea of getting a ruby inlay for it
Neve never visited Rivain before joining the Veilguard, though she now finds its beaches charming
Ever since she was a baby, Neve was stubborn and asked too many questions (and hated unanswered questions as well)
Neve likes Qunari food but thinks it’s very spicy
Neve likes seafood 
Neve doesn't drink tea
Neve isn’t really close with her family
Neve once tried to use a wisp-repelling artefact the Veil Jumpers found to get rid of the wisps in her room, but it only attracted wisps from the entire Lighthouse
Neve isn’t interested in exploring the mysteries of the Lighthouse because she has enough mysteries on this side of the Veil
(If Rook chooses to save Minrathous) Neve sends civil engineers to assist in Treviso 
On work: 
Neve didn’t want to be a detective when she was a child (not as if in she didn’t like the idea, she just didn’t consider it), though she didn’t have any dream career either 
Neve got into detective work by picking up odd jobs and building a reputation of being good at finding things. Eventually, she was hired to find someone’s brother, a case nobody else wanted to pick up, and her career took off 
Neve agrees that she is cynical and married to her job, but doesn’t consider herself ‘serious’  
Neve allegedly has a system for sorting her papers (Emmrich and Rana are sceptical about its existence) 
(If Neve becomes Dock Town's protector) Elek is implied to visit the Lighthouse again multiple times. Taash mentions seeing him poking around the library. Neve explained that he thought he could grab some fade-touched items to sell, and told him to run the plan by the Caretaker (one would think they did not approve)
On life in Minrathous: 
Neve was born and raised in Minrathous
Neve has never been inside the Archon’s Palace
(If Neve chooses to become Dock Town’s inspiration) Neve doesn’t regret letting Aelia live because she got information on Venatori out of her, and her death wouldn’t change the past
(If Neve chooses to become Dock Town’s inspiration) Neve gets to take a break for once in her life because Rana keeping an eye on the Dock Town actually helps
(If Neve chooses to become Dock Town’s inspiration) People gossip about Neve and Rana after they start their agency :)
Neve describes the rain of Minrathous as "cold fingers down your neck", but she misses it now that she's away from the city. The sound helps her fall asleep 
Neve’s entire apartment could fit inside villa Dellamorte’s dining room 
One of Tevinter papers referred to Neve as "Dock Town dirt-chaser," and to Emmrich as "sinister foreign necromancer”
A Tevinter paper called The Minrathous Herald once wrote that Neve should be exiled. The same paper called Shadow Dragons “traitors to the Empire” 
Neve never runs out of ink because she's on good terms with Minrathous ink sellers 
There is however one banter where she runs out of ink (I think it was with Davrin). Make of that what you will. 
On the Shadow Dragons: 
Neve didn't know Dorian personally until she joined the Shadow Dragons
Neve figured out the Viper's identity even before joining the Dragons. Her not revealing it to the public is one of the reasons he recruited her
Tarquin calls Neve a pain in the ass 
Relationships with companions: 
Neve calls Manfred ‘Fred’ (he seems to like that)
Manfred learns to say Neve's name (likely only happens if you revive him at the Necropolis, though I am not sure)
Neve introduces Lucanis to a spice shop in Dock Town
Harding describes Neve’s tastes in coffee as “made of gutter water filtered through an old sock”
Lucanis once showed Neve’s coffee to Viago. He found it “unsettling” 
Davrin thinks drinking Neve's coffee is worse than the Joining
Neve spoils Assan (but denies that accusation)
Neve is rather quick to consider questioning corpses with Emmrich’s help for her cases 
Neve is very apprehensive about lichdom and the perspective of Emmrich eventually turning evil (just like Emmrich isn't thrilled about her taking over the Threads for similar reasons)
Lucanis is concerned about Neve taking over the Threads. Mainly, about how much they are paying her
Neve has multiple banters with Taash discussing her relationship with Lucanis. Taash initially thinks of it as some sort of predator-prey dynamic, but Neve says she is not into that and explains that they are taking it slow and cautious. They both went through a lot of pain in their lines, which they tend not to show for different reasons
Neve's relationship with Lucanis is also more than she usually looks for with people
Neve takes Taash to Hal’s fish fry stand. Taash loved it :)
Taash offers Neve help on ladders in case she may need it/it gets stuck on steps due to being hook-shaped, mentioning they knew a Lord of Fortune who lost a hand and whose shoulders hurt while climbing because of it. Neve seems to appreciate the gesture, even though she can handle herself
Neve thinks Taash is nice to work with, offering help without being overbearing like some people are
Neve asks Taash to teach her Gold Thief (a Lord of Fortune dice game), so she can play it with the Shadow Dragons, and then subsequently gets beaten by the Viper
On Tevinter: 
Fashion is important in Tevinter because a good outfit lets people know you are under the protection of someone powerful
There aren’t many mages in Docktown, which is one of the reasons the government doesn’t care about it 
The big red cat near Halos’s stand is named Ferdinand
Stains on clothes can be cleaned with magic
You can get pineapples anywhere in Minrathous 
Neve calls the magic used for the lights in Minrathous a party trick, but Emmrich considers it a high-level enchantment because of its quality and duration
Tevinter doesn’t regulate the charms sold in the market (which is why there are a lot of scammers who sell fakes) 
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acid-ixx · 1 day ago
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Hiii, I have read all your work and it is very good :D!! I've read it several times and never get bored.
Can I ask about something? I'm curious about the characteristics or signs of yandere appearing in Tim. Will he be the last family member to become a yandere? Sorry I asked like this because I feel like he's not getting enough attention in drabbles, questions from other readers, or anything else. So I'm curious.
I hope you understand my question. Because English is not my first language.
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— masterlist !
don't mind me using the tags here, i want to clarify a lot of things.
hi anon!! don't worry about your english, i understand perfectly and it's also not my first language too hehe. and to all the others who have asked about tim's (or any other characters') appearance in the series: fear not, nobody is getting ignored at all, i intend for everyone to have their designated events/moments that trigger yandere characteristics for the reader for each chapter. it's my plan to make them each as unique as possible with their intentions, motives and goals, not just them being simply "obsessed" with you, so i'm trying my best to add depth to the story.
that means the entire series will stretch out quite a lot (i already have outlined multiple arcs, flashbacks, and all the characters' individual traits and significance). it's not just going to be ten chapters, i want to remind others that there's more lore to just the neglect, your mother's dark past, and characters that haven't even been introduced to the plot yet, so if you guys prefer one-shots or something shorter, then the series is not for you folks, sorry 😭
as for tim, he is quite literally my favorite character (surprise!), so of course he's going to get special treatment. he's not going to be the last to become yandere, but his spiral to becoming a yandere takes quite a lot of time since compared to others, it's him who spends the least amount of moments with you. even in the non-neglected au i wrote, what triggered his obsession was mere curiousity.
though just because there're lesser events with him, doesn't mean there will be none. he certainly plays a major role in the "wild goose chase arc where the family tries to negotiate (kidnap) you whilst you try to escape to multiple cities/end up in a completely different country". he may not express his love for the reader well, but he most definitely knows the most about you.
oh! and the traits that he does have as a yandere looks tame when you compare it to others, but it's also because it manifests through his personal dialogue (as i reckon he's keeps most of his thoughts about you to himself most of the time (gatekeeper archetype) and he's the character with the most internal dialogue/thoughts too). he's the worst stalker you could have, the one who you should look out for the most with just how much he knows about you in such a short period of time. tim's intelligence and detective skills knows no bounds, and he won't stop exhausting himself until the very knowledge of what the blood pumping under your skin feels like and the exact temperature of your body— is extracted and stored into the terabytes of data he has into his personal batcave.
and spoiler alert: he's also the one who uncovers your mother's past and alongside bruce, what had happened between the period of time when you were dragged out of the closet and the other time in elementary when you were nearly kidnapped, which completely leads to another arc wherein it's where their obsession drives off to a completely different plane of existence, exalting vengeance on the people who tormented you; but tim's pettiness is just on a whole nother level.
and i have to stop here before i (excitedly) spoil the entire series' plot LMAO. my answer to this is a bit more casual to the other asks, so i hope it doesn't irritate anyone.
so thank you for asking this! i also have a question for you people too:
how is the current progression of the plot? i get that it isn't even 10% finished and some moments feel slow, but i try to be as immersive as possible to the readers. so for those who have read the entire thing, what do you want me to possibly add, or does anyone have other clarifications? can anyone tolerate a fanfic that can possibly lead to more than 250k words??? 😭
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captain-kit-adventuress · 2 days ago
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I haven't read any cozy fantasy, to be fair, but because these posts are mostly talking about the fundamentals of good writing while the fundamentals of cozy fantasy are taking more of a backseat, I feel comfortable throwing in my pov. I agree with all of the above, but I think we should probably add on discussion of why tension works even when stakes are low.
Given all of the GBBO mentions, let's liken writing a story to baking. So what differentiates a cake from bread from a biscuit from [insert thing here]? Mostly ratios. Cakes and breads and biscuits are all made with the same fundamental ingredients, for the most part, but the ratios of each differ greatly between them, as do some of the techniques used. A more traditional fantasy is mostly plot-driven. That's one ingredient. Of course, you still need character and setting and all the rest, but because a traditional fantasy tends to use a big window into its world, you'll need lots of plot and worldbuilding in the mix. There is The Quest or The Prophecy or The Villain's Downfall or The Hero's Redemption or whatever, and these kinds of story tropes require a lot of moving parts to get to the end. Character is still important in a plot-driven book because it will enrich whatever that plot is, but the big window you're opening will swallow up the characters if you're not careful to get the other ratios just right.
But a cozy fantasy isn't like that. The window is much smaller, and so the ratio of ingredients necessarily has to change. Tension vs stakes is a great way to think about that ingredient mix, but when you're shifting your main base, you also have to shift the ratios of the other ingredients or it's going to turn out wonky. With a smaller window generally comes a smaller (though no less important) story. We don't see as much of the world in a cozy setting, so focusing too much on worldbuilding might crowd out the other elements in the story and overpower them. What tends to fit well in a smaller window is character. But if you want to create tension instead of stakes--and it is incredibly important to know the difference between the two, as the above post illustrates well--you can't rely on plot so much. Tension is all about character.
The reason tension works in GBBO is not just because the characters care about the outcome, it's that we bond with them and care about it also. We want it to go well for them. (Or at least, go well for our favourites lol.) So with bland, uninspiring, nothing characters, even introducing tension isn't going to work well if readers have no reason to root for your characters, and wanting to see good in the world just won't cut it. In the case of the fantasy coffee shop idea, why do we care that this coffee shop survives? What makes the character care? What is the thing (or things) that makes the character get out of bed every day to run this shop? It doesn't have to be a big reason, either. It's not like it has to be to honour the memory of their dead mother whose dying wish was to own a shop like this, it needn't be dramatic. But it does have to feel like a real reason this person would be so motivated.
A different cozy genre that does this well is cozy mysteries, and those are all about characters. We always know there's going to be a murder (or at least the appearance of one). So that part of the plot is taken care of. What the author of a cozy mystery must do, then--besides solving the mystery--is tell us why that murder matters. The only question an author needs to answer before writing a cozy mystery after they've answered whodunit is why they did it. And you can only do that through the people that are still alive. The worldbuilding may contribute to it, but the murder doesn't matter except as it relates to the ones who are left in the aftermath.
Something I've noticed in recent years is that some authors are starting to approach independent stories like they do fanfic. To some extent, that's fine because good writing is good writing is good writing. One of the biggest differences between independent stories and fanfiction, however, is that fanfiction doesn't need a reason to exist. You can write that cute scene with no stakes and no tension and people will read it because it's like a deleted scene from the original, and it has all of the canon to support it. The existing canon is the primary reason fanfiction exists.
Independent stories are not like that. They must have a reason to exist outside of "this is cute and I like it." We readers don't have access to the world in your head in any other way than through the published material, and it's an author's responsibility when writing independent stories to give us that access. You have to show us why we should care, and if you're spending too much time worldbuilding and plotting and dialoguing and not enough time making us care about the people in the story, we're not going to be any wiser at the end, and tension vs stakes vs anything else isn't going to matter.
Cozy Fantasy and Why It Doesn't Work
I think I am among many who feel like they should love cozy fantasy and have found it an incredibly lacking genre.
This newly branded "cozy fantasy" genre that has taken readers by storm since 2020 and while it is new that books are now marketed as cozy, the genre itself isn't new. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a great example of the genre before it was labeled and also how to make it work.
Cozy fantasy is defined by many as fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy aesthetic but less sword fights. On paper, it sounds great. But the execution has been less than stellar for readers like me. The lack of physical stakes has also impacted the emotional stakes of these books, creating forgettable characters with boring problems. As a romance reader, I find this frustrating. Romance is known for being a predictable and formulaic genre, the now defunct Romance Writers of America defined romances as needing happy endings, a term romances have continued to follow. Yet these romance texts manage to have low physical stakes (how to date your neighbor, how to confront your toxic friends, etc) while still maintaining high personal stakes that keep readers invested and begging for more. So I was initially confused why cozy fantasy authors struggle to write texts that connect to readers like me.
I think I have found the answer which is the genre is just here for vibes. It is all about aesthetic, not even worldbuilding that fantasy is known for as most cozy fantasy I read have so many problems as soon as you ask one question. It is hard to acknowledge that a genre that is pitched to work for readers like me doesn't work for many of us. Especially because occasionally there is one that works beautifully to my taste.
I often say my favorite cozy fantasies that are more contemporary are short and visual, which I plays into the idea of the genre being an aesthetic. The Bakery Dragon by Devin Elle Kurtz is a good example because it is a simple story that is given the perfect amount of pages and gorgeous visuals without dragging on when the message is very clear and easy to understand. Books like The Phoenix Keeper and Legends and Lattes have absolutely nothing for me, their very clear message hitting the reader over and over so the readers don't miss it and focusing on the aesthetic of worldbuilding rather than the reality of the fantastic elements within the world.
I guess my point is. . . I realize this genre isn't for me since I have realized it is more of an aesthetic than anything. .. .but I want it to be. Should I let it go and put my efforts elsewhere? Or should I keep exploring this new trend and find the hidden gems?
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isak-dot-gov · 1 day ago
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Unrivaled
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Word count: 1212
Summary: Paige is on set for an Unrivalled ad shoot where she’s answering calls for the company’s merch department(inspired by that one Unrivaled ad)
Isak Speaks: I honestly have no idea how I came up with this but I hope someone out there likes it lol.
...............................................................
The Unrivaled ad shoot was well underway, and Paige was in her element. She was used to the camera lights and the constant flow of new challenges, but today felt different. There was a playful air to the set, and the whole team was buzzing with energy. Paige, always professional but with a healthy dose of humour, knew this was going to be one of those shoots she’d remember.
The concept was simple: she’d be answering calls as if she worked in the Unrivalled merch department, giving potential customers all the information they could possibly need. But there was one twist: the team had arranged for one of the calls to be from you, her girlfriend, and unbeknownst to her, you had been looped in on a prank that the production crew had cooked up.
“Alright, Paige,” the director said, his voice cutting through the low hum of the set. “This next segment is all about the phone calls. You’re going to be answering different questions, sticking to the script, but you can really play with it. Just have fun with it, okay?”
“Cheeky, light, and fun. Got it,” Paige replied with a wink.
She grabbed the house phone, adjusting the small mic attached to her gray hoodie and checking herself in the mirror before stepping in front of the camera and sitting one the cream couch. The lights flickered on, and the crew was ready to go. Paige was a natural—her smile was bright, her posture perfect, and her charm on full display. She looked every bit the star.
“Okay, here we go. First call in 3... 2... 1…” The director’s voice faded as the first phone rang.
Paige answered the first call by holding the phone to her ear, adopting the professional tone of a customer service representative. “Hello, Paige here, with Unrivaled merch department. How can I help you?”
The first call was a quick one, with the person on the other end asking about the fit of a hoodie. Paige smoothly replied, “Yeah, don’t worry. If it fits me, it’ll fit you,” flashing a smile for the camera, causing the crew to laugh.
They ran through a few more takes, each one bringing out a bit more of Paige’s playful side as she joked and riffed on the script.
“You’re either in, or you’re out. No pressure,” she said, speaking into the phone as she struck a dramatic pose.
“If you tell people the future is unrivaled, I’ll give you half off,” she added, winking at the camera as though she were letting the audience in on a secret.
The crew applauded at the end of each take, clearly impressed by how effortlessly Paige owned the role. But as they moved to the next part of the shoot, she had no idea what was coming next.
It was time for your call.
Backstage, you were practically vibrating with excitement. The crew had kept everything under wraps, and now it was your turn to play your part. You knew Paige would never expect it—she thought she was just doing another typical day of shooting, and now you were about to throw her for a loop.
The phone rang in Paige’s hands. She picked it up and smiled, ready for the next caller. She was already in character, and it would be easy for her to slip into another round of humorous responses.
“Hello, Paige here, with Unrivaled merch department. How can I help you?” she said, sounding chipper and completely professional.
You, trying to hold back your laughter, greeted her in your sweetest voice. “Hi, Paige.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Paige’s eyes narrowed slightly as she recognized your voice. “Babe?” she said softly, the suspicion creeping in. Then, realizing she was on camera, she quickly adjusted. “Uh, I mean… How can I help you?”
You couldn’t hold back your grin any longer. “So, I don’t really have a merch question,” you started casually, savoring the moment. “I was wondering... can I play you one-on-one?”
Paige’s face froze. Her eyes widened in disbelief as her mouth parted slightly. She didn’t expect this—not at all. The question hung in the air for a beat, and she blinked as if trying to process what she just heard.
You could practically hear her thoughts racing, and then, with an exaggerated sigh from her lips, she gave in. “Can you play me one-on-one?” she repeated, making sure to sound as deadpan as possible before she rolled her eyes at your request. “All right.” She looked into the camera and shook her head in mock exasperation. “They just can’t let it go.”
The crew was losing it in the background, and you could hear the laughter starting to bleed through into the audio as they realized what was happening. Paige, trying to keep it together, leaned into the phone with a slight smirk creeping onto her face. “You just had to make it about basketball, huh?”
With an exaggerated sigh, she looked straight into the camera. “Ok. Ok.” She played it up, giving the camera a knowing look that suggested she’d just been ambushed in the most Paige-like way possible.
The whole scene felt like a hilarious sitcom moment, with the cameras capturing every ounce of Paige’s fake annoyance and your playful glee. You could hear the production team beginning to play with the audio, stacking the overlapping calls on top of each other in post-production. Paige, still answering the fake calls with her usual charm, did her best to finish out the script, but she couldn’t quite hide her amusement.
“Yes, yes. I am unrivaled,” she said, dramatically leaning into the mic with a smirk on her face, clearly in on the joke now.
The director yelled “cut!” and the crew erupted into applause. Paige stood up from her seat and immediately turned to the side, searching the room for the culprit.
You stood behind the set, trying to hide your grin. But it was no use. Paige’s eyes locked onto yours, and the playful look in her eyes was unmistakable.
“You’re so dead,” she said, shaking her head in mock anger. “What was that, huh? One-on-one? Really?”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she approached, her arms crossed over her chest. “You should’ve seen your face when I asked. You looked like you were about to quit the shoot.”
“I should’ve,” Paige muttered under her breath, but her lips twitched as she tried to suppress a smile. “I’m going to get you back for this.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” you teased, stepping closer to her. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “But it was worth it, right?”
Paige rolled her eyes but wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a side hug. “I’ll admit, it was funny. But next time, you’re doing the shoot.”
“Deal,” you grinned, savoring the rare moment of being able to catch Paige off guard.
The crew was still laughing, and as they started packing up the set, Paige looked over at you with a knowing smile. “Next time, babe, I’m bringing my A-game. Just wait.”
“Oh, I’m looking forward to it,” you said, leaning into her side as she led you away from the set.
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cybrasigilism · 3 days ago
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Thanos (Player 230) Smut Drabble
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warning: smut and all things of the like | lowercase intended | degradation | spanking | protection not implied (wrap it before you tap it) | PiV | reader has female genitalia | not proofread
character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)
A/N: thanks for 50+ followers! i appreciate each and every one of you so much :) i just wanted to say that i was thoroughly surprised with how many people wanted me to do a thanos smut drabble because i personally felt my writing for him was less than satisfactory, i’m just happy i was able to do him justice! also, my request box is open! if theres anyone you want me to write for please drop a request there!
MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, readers discretion is advised
you and i both know damn well that thanos, player 230 himself, is an absolute freak.
it doesn’t come as a surprise to any of his partners when he goes absolutely buck wild in bed, dude is willing to try and experience just about any and everything just as long as it involves him inside you.
need him to go down on you? you may have to pry him off if you want his cock because he will get lost in the pleasure. he won’t even just eat you out, he’ll suck and lick on your clit while fingering you, working at absolute god speed just to make you cum. need to dry hump? he’s more than willing to let you grind on his thigh while he kisses and marks up your neck, leaving a cluster of hickeys and bite marks in his wake. trust he will be pulling your hair back to ensure you’re thoroughly marked up, not a spot on your neck left unscathed by his mouth.
when it comes time for you to please him, he will grab a fistful of your hair and guide your head up and down his dick, and rest assured that you will without a doubt be deepthroating him. he’s quite vocal when pleasing you, sure, but when the roles are reversed and you’re doing the work on him? such slutty sounds have never before been expelled from human lips, he’ll go on about how good your mouth feels on his cock, how impressed he is with your ability to take the full length of him between your lips. oh and god forbid you lightly graze your teeth over his dick, if you plan on making him cum through a blowjob god please use your teeth.
“oh fuck girl, yeah..that’s right suck my dick just like that fuck” and “god if you keep going like this.. i dunno if i can take it, shit.” are both phrases you can expect to hear, that’s if he’s too far gone to focus on degrading you. if his thoughts haven’t been totally clouded by how good you’re making him feel, he’ll make sure to mock you and be kind of a dick about the whole ordeal. “finally putting that bitch mouth of yours to good use.” “awe, is it too much? can’t take it? too fucking bad.”
when it comes to actually fucking you, it’s face down, ass up all the way. you’ll for sure be leaving the situation with a bruised ass from how much he’ll be spanking you. the hair pulling carries over here too, he’ll pull you back into it while he fucks you senseless, whispering filthy things all the while.
will 100% call you his “personal cum dumpster” and the degradation does. not. stop.
“how does it feel, huh? to be on all fours like the little bitch you are for me? bet no one else could make you feel this good, huh?”
“fuck, you’re such a good cocksleeve, holy shit”
“god, moaning like such a slut for me, didn’t think you were such a needy whore”
when he’s not spanking your ass or pulling your hair back, his hands are firmly affixed to your hips with such fervour that marks being left behind would not surprise you. the twinge of pain that comes when he digs his nails into the grip is something you find yourself waiting for. he knows you love it, to be honest i don’t think he would do any of this if it didn’t get you as wet as it did. trust he will also rub your clit as he fucks you like this, when you end up cumming, it might be too much to handle with how this man attacks your senses from every angle.
biting, scratches, hair pulling, the whole nine yards can be expected when you let thanos use you like this.
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thanks for reading again! you know the drill, any advice/constructive criticism is appreciated and requested! i’m always looking to improve my writing, and of course, more to come :)
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kirammanswifey · 21 hours ago
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Hii, I read your pt 1 n 2 of arcane characters breaking up with their s/o
Would you be able to hurt us(me) even more? Like they took too long to get us back that R already move on with someone better
Pretty pretty please🥺?
what if you never reconciled with arcane's characters after the breakup x fem reader
characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.
writer's note: i loved the person who asked me to do this because i had thought about doing it but i didn't know if you guys wanted to read more of this but i guess we'll are masochist. so i ended up depressed after writing this, and that's saying a lot for a psychology student, the one i found the saddest and the hardest to write was jinx's, i love writing sad things but it's already too much suffering, later I'll come up with something lighter and nicer. as you guys know, requests are open ;)
break up link:
reconciliation link:
Viktor
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The auditorium filled with applause as you finished your presentation. The project you had worked tirelessly on was finally being recognized. You felt proud, but also empty, as if something important was missing. As you looked up, you saw him. Viktor, at the back of the room, trying to go unnoticed, almost ready to leave.
Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him. It had been two months since the breakup, two months of complete silence. Without thinking, you called his name. "Viktor."
He stopped, turning slowly toward you. The auditorium's light accentuated the paleness of his face, his sunken eyes, and his thin body seemed even more fragile. Concern washed over you instantly, but you held back the urge to approach and ask what was happening to him.
"How are you? How have things been going?" you managed to say, though your voice trembled slightly, betraying the calm you were trying to project.
"Fine." His response was cold, distant, almost mechanical. "The lab is progressing. The projects are going as expected."
Each word of his was a dagger, his formality making you feel like a stranger, as if you had never been part of his life. The lump in your throat grew, but you forced yourself to continue. You couldn't leave things like this.
"Why didn’t you reach out, Viktor? Do you still feel the same?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, fearing the answer but needing to hear it.
Viktor closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before responding. "Yes, I still feel the same. What I’m doing is bigger than us. I can't afford distractions."
His voice was firm, but you could sense the slight hesitation, the pain he was trying to hide. Despite that, it hurt more than you expected. You nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable, though it broke your heart.
"Thank you for coming," you said coldly, matching the distance he had put between you. "I appreciate you taking the time to listen to me."
You turned around, ready to leave before the tears betrayed your façade. But as you walked away, you felt his eyes on you, almost as if he was waiting for something more, something you weren’t willing to give.
Viktor stood there, motionless, internally conflicted. In his mind, every memory with you fought against his convictions. He wanted to approach, to risk a second chance, to ask you to come back. The thought of losing you forever was suffocating him, but he also feared that his illness, his obsession with science, was too much for you to bear.
Finally, he decided to take that step, to approach you, to break the barrier he had built himself. But by the time he gathered the courage, it was too late. You had been intercepted by a colleague, a man who radiated health and vitality, someone who made you smile in a way Viktor couldn’t remember seeing for a long time.
From afar, Viktor watched, his heart breaking as he saw how the man made you laugh, how he looked at you with admiration. In that moment, he understood something he had always feared: you deserved someone better than him, someone who could be completely with you without the chains of science and illness.
He decided to leave, convinced that intervening would only cause you more pain. He didn’t know that as he walked away, you were watching him from afar, with a broken heart, wishing he had fought for you, even just a little more.
Jinx
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Days passed after that heartbreaking farewell. The memories piled up in your mind, like broken pieces of a puzzle you could never put back together. Jinx's absence was a crushing weight, leaving you breathless, powerless. Her laughter, her mischief, her uncontrollable chaos... all had disappeared, and in their place, only an unbearable void remained.
One afternoon, as the rain furiously pounded against the windows and the sky was draped in gray, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew exactly where to find her. On somber days, Jinx always sought refuge at the cliff, a place where the world seemed to end and the abyss opened before her like an invitation.
You ran through the rain, feeling each drop like needles on your skin, every step filled with a desperation that was suffocating you. When you reached the cliff, your heart stopped. Jinx wasn’t sitting, as she usually did, lost in her thoughts. She was standing, at the edge of the abyss, her slender figure barely visible in the mist.
But before you could take another step, she jumped.
The scream that tore from your throat was heart-wrenching, an echo lost in the wind. You ran to the edge, but what you saw below froze your blood. Jinx lay on the rocks, her body shattered by the fall, motionless, lifeless. The sight left you petrified, unable to move, unable to breathe.
The days that followed were torment. Guilt consumed you. What if you had arrived earlier? What if you had said something different? What if you had hugged her tighter? The questions haunted you, whispering in your ear that it was all your fault, that you hadn’t done enough to save her.
You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep. You just returned to that cliff over and over again, hoping to find answers in the void Jinx had left. But all you found was more silence, more loneliness.
One night, when the moon barely peeked through the clouds, the weight became unbearable. You couldn’t go on without her. You decided it was time to join Jinx, to follow her steps into the abyss. You walked to the edge, feeling the cold wind on your skin, and looked down at the place where your love had met its end.
Then, a vision stopped you. Jinx appeared before you, but not like the last time. She was smiling, her gaze sweet and mischievous, like when she used to laugh at your jokes or drag you into her chaotic adventures. "Don't be sad, sugar," she whispered. "I'm here. I'll always be here."
Her words, though you knew they were just a hallucination, filled you with a strange comfort. You smiled, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I'm going to be with you," you promised her. And without thinking further, you leapt into the abyss, letting the darkness take you, driven by the desire to be with Jinx once more.
Upon impact, everything became silence. But in that silence, there was something more. A whisper, an echo of eternal love.
In every universe, in every possible existence, you two would always be together. Even in death, even in the void. Because your love was that strong, that eternal.
Vi
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Vi had spent two years engulfed in a darkness she couldn’t escape. After you left her, everything became a whirlwind of underground fights and empty bottles. Each punch she took, each night spent alone in the darkest corners of Zaun, made her think of you, of what she had lost. In her mind, she was always sure you would come back for her, that your love for her would be strong enough to forgive her. But days turned into weeks, then into months, and eventually, years. And you never came back.
One day, a job brought her to Piltover. A corrupt politician had paid her to "teach a lesson" to someone who owed him money. The money was enough for Vi to accept without asking questions. She was walking through the gleaming streets of the city when her body collided with someone else's.
“Sorry,” she said automatically, but when she looked up, she was left breathless. It was you. More radiant than ever, with a presence that seemed to light up even the cold stone of Piltover. Vi couldn’t help herself, she hugged you tightly as if her life depended on it. “I missed you so much,” she whispered into your hair. But her world stopped when she didn’t feel your arms returning the embrace. Instead, your body was stiff, distant.
You gently pulled away, but your gaze was like a dagger. “What’s wrong?” Vi asked, her voice trembling with confusion and the pain now flooding her. “Why are you treating me like this?”
Your expression hardened, and your words were cold, sharp as steel. “Do you really expect me to welcome you with open arms after what you did? After what you said?” Your eyes burned with a fire Vi didn’t recognize, a fire from someone who had suffered and changed. “You left me, Violet. You said things that broke me. And now, after two years, you expect me to greet you like nothing happened?”
Vi tried to respond, but the words died in her throat. There weren’t enough excuses to explain what she had done.
You continued, not giving her a moment to breathe. “Things changed when you left, Violet.” You raised your hand, showing a ring that gleamed under the sunlight. “My parents married me off to someone from the Council. At first, I thought it would be the end of the world, that I’d never get over it. But now… now I’m happy.” You paused, letting your words sink into Vi like a slow-acting poison. “I have a family. I have stability. And I’m happy. With you, Violet, I would never have had that.”
Vi looked at you, unsure of what to do, what to say. In her mind, you were still the person who loved her, but now, standing before her, you had transformed into someone completely different.
At that moment, a man approached. Tall, in his thirties, with a well-groomed beard, and in his arms, a small child with a smile Vi instantly recognized as yours. The man kissed you on the cheek and then handed you the child. Your face lit up with love as you held him.
“Sweetheart, did you find what you were looking for?” the man asked, glancing at Vi with curiosity. “Is she a friend of yours?”
Vi felt like the ground crumbled beneath her feet. You looked back at her, but now, your eyes were just cold reflections of the past. “No,” you said with a tone that cut Vi to the core. “Just someone I used to know.”
Without another word, you turned away, the man beside you, the child in your arms, and the three of you walked off, a perfect picture of the happiness Vi had always dreamed of but could never achieve.
Vi stood there, motionless, in the middle of the street, as tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. Her entire world crumbled in that instant. Everything she had believed, everything she had hoped for, was gone. And now she knew she would live with regret for the rest of her life.
Caitlyn
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The trial was a brutal display of coldness. You stood there, in the center, surrounded by the faces of Piltover who had once respected you. But now, you were nothing more than a traitor to them. Your hands were cuffed behind your back, your gaze fixed on Caitlyn, waiting... begging for her to say something, to defend you, to plead on your behalf. But she remained silent, rigid, her expression unyielding. The façade of the perfect enforcer intact, as you crumbled.
As you left the court, the cold air hit you harder than the judges' words. Caitlyn approached the guards, requesting to personally escort you to the edge of exile. Your eyes met hers, seeking answers, some sign that there was still something between you.
"Why?" you whispered, your voice breaking.
Caitlyn looked at you, her face colder than ever. "I did what I had to do," she said with a hardness that made you shiver. "If you had done the same, you wouldn't be in this situation."
There were no more words. No goodbyes. Just a chasm that opened between you, killing everything that had ever existed.
A year later, Piltover was burning in chaos. Zaun's gangsters had unleashed a revolt, and Caitlyn, always the leader, was on the front lines. The battle roared around her, but she didn't see the attacker coming until it was too late. The blade of a knife gleamed in the air, aimed at her, until a precise shot stopped the assailant.
Caitlyn turned, her rifle pointed at her supposed savior. "Back off," she ordered firmly, though her heart was racing.
The figure in front of her removed the owl mask, revealing a face that took her breath away.
"You're still an exceptional shooter, Cait," you said with a sad smile, your voice laden with painful nostalgia.
The chaos had ceased, the silence weighed between you. Caitlyn didn't understand how everything had ended so quickly, how her men had been immobilized. Her eyes filled with questions, and you, with a flash of understanding, gave her the answer before she could formulate it.
"It was us."
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. "Us?"
You laughed, a sound that carried both sadness and resignation. "I'm part of the Firelights. We heard about the revolt and came to the rescue. We don't want more trouble between Piltover and Zaun, so we stopped it to avoid reprisals."
Caitlyn's eyes widened, recognizing the rebel group that had caused so many headaches for the Enforcers.
"They took me in when I was exiled to Zaun," you continued with a touch of sadness. "They're my family now."
Caitlyn stepped forward, regret etching her face. "I... I missed you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I regret not defending you."
But before she could say more, a figure riding a hoverboard approached. Wearing a mask similar to yours, his dark skin and white hair gave him away: Ekko, the leader of the Firelights.
"All clear. Let's go, babe," he said, extending a hand to you. Then, he cast a sarcastic glance at Caitlyn. "Looks like the Enforcers don't know how to do their job anymore."
Caitlyn opened her mouth to protest, but you playfully smacked Ekko on the head. "Don't be cheeky," you chided, but the boy just smiled and kissed you tenderly.
Caitlyn froze, watching the scene with disbelief and pain. Seeing the love of her life with someone else was an agony she wasn't prepared to face.
You climbed onto the board with Ekko, but before leaving, you turned to Caitlyn. "I hope you can find happiness someday, Cait," you said softly, your words a reminder that sometimes justice isn't enough to fill the void in the soul.
And with that, you vanished into the air, laughing with Ekko, leaving Caitlyn alone, shattered. She stood there, staring at the spot where you'd disappeared, the regret devouring her inside. But she didn't allow herself to feel more. She had a mess to clean up and a report to deliver. There was no room for pain now, and that would always be her greatest flaw.
Jayce
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It had been five months since the last time you saw Jayce, five months since that painful goodbye that had left your heart in pieces. But you didn't allow yourself to stay in that state. You channeled your pain into ambition, into a fierce determination to prove your worth beyond being "Jayce Talis' partner." You joined the world of politics, and against all odds, you managed to gain acceptance into the Council of Piltover.
The news of your rise had spread to every corner of the city, but Jayce, absorbed in his work with Hextech technology and his duties as a Council member, hadn't noticed your progress until that day.
The first Council meeting with your presence was a revelation. All the members praised you, impressed by your intellect and the innovative plans you had proposed for the city. But Jayce heard none of that. His attention was completely captured by you.
You looked different. Your hair, which you used to wear long and dark, was now short and dyed a vibrant coral red. The clothes you wore were more revealing, showing a confidence in yourself he had never seen before. It was as if you were a completely new person, someone who no longer depended on anyone's shadow.
When the meeting ended, Jayce approached you with his characteristic smile, the one that used to melt your heart. "I didn’t expect to see you here," he said with a mix of surprise and admiration. "It seems a lot has changed."
You returned his smile, but there was a touch of disdain in your eyes. "Yes, many things changed in my life when you left, Jayce. Everything got better," you said firmly. "I focused on my career and made a name for myself in Piltover for my skills and intelligence. I'm no longer recognized as Jayce Talis' partner. I'm no longer the pretty doll you used to take to those fancy parties."
Jayce frowned, his expression turning serious. "I never treated you like an object," he replied defensively. "That was always a misunderstanding. I just took care of you and gave you everything you wanted."
You shook your head slowly, your gaze steady on his. "No, Jayce. You clipped my wings. You didn’t let me be who I really am. And I'm so happy you left me because now I’m enjoying life, and I love who I am."
Jayce opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted him. "There's talk that you have a relationship with Mel Medarda."
The surprise on his face was evident, but he quickly denied it, his tone defensive. "Of course not. We're just partners."
A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "More like master and slave. It’s pathetic to see how you let yourself be influenced and manipulated by someone else. The Jayce I knew, the one I once loved, would never have allowed that."
Jayce barely heard the reproach. His attention was caught by your words. "You don't love me anymore?" he asked, his voice hurt and low.
You took a deep breath, your eyes meeting his with brutal sincerity. "No, Jayce. I don’t. I’ve moved on from you."
Jayce was left speechless, the emotional blow visible on his face. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy for you to forget him, especially when he hadn’t forgotten you.
Before you left, you stepped a little closer, your voice soft but firm. "And you know what the best part is, Jayce? I didn’t need to hook up with anyone else to do it. I got over you when I learned to focus on myself and my needs. You should do the same."
Without waiting for a response, you turned around and walked away, leaving Jayce there, paralyzed by the weight of your words. It was as if you had slapped him, leaving him breathless, not knowing how to recover from that loss. Because you would be a loss that would hurt him for the rest of his life.
Ekko
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Months have passed since that last conversation that ended your relationship. Since then, Zaun has changed, and so have you. You've learned to live without Ekko, though the void he left still hurts. Fate, however, seems determined to cross your paths again. And it is on a rainy night, in an alley you used to walk together, that you meet once more.
Ekko is there, under the dim light of a streetlamp, his silhouette wet from the rain but heavier with guilt. He sees you approach, and something inside him breaks. Time hasn't healed his wounds, only made them deeper.
"I didn’t think I’d see you here again," he murmurs, his voice almost inaudible beneath the sound of the rain.
Your heart races at the sight of him, but you stay firm. "I didn’t think I’d see you again either."
Ekko's eyes scan you, searching for something to give him strength to speak. "How have you been?" he asks, knowing that any answer will be insufficient for the pain he caused.
"I managed," you reply coldly. "And you? Doesn’t Zaun need you anymore?"
Ekko lowers his gaze, ashamed. "Zaun will always need me, but... I've been thinking a lot about us. About what I did, about what I said."
"And have you reached any conclusions?" you ask, keeping your tone distant.
"That I was wrong," he admits, his voice breaking. "That each day without you weighs more on me. That I let you go out of fear, out of responsibility... but I never stopped loving you."
His confession hits you, but it’s not enough to erase the pain. "Ekko, you made your choice. You chose Zaun over us."
"I know," he says, taking a step closer but not daring to move further. "And I regret it. If I could go back, I would. But I can’t. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, that I miss you... that every day I regret more what I lost."
Silence takes over the moment. The rain continues to fall, cold and relentless, like the fate you both share. You look at Ekko, and for a moment, the love you still feel battles against the resentment.
"Ekko, love isn’t enough when it becomes a burden. I can’t go back to that, I can’t be your second place again," you say, trying to maintain your composure.
"I know," he replies, his voice barely a whisper. "But I wanted you to know that I’ll always love you. Even if I can’t fix it, even if I can’t win you back, you’ll always be a part of me."
"And you of me," you admit, finally letting the tears you’ve held back fall. "But it’s too late, Ekko. Too late for us."
Reality sets in, and both of you know it. Without words, you look at each other one last time, each trying to engrave that moment in memory. Finally, you turn away, leaving Ekko alone, with the rain as his only company.
As you walk away, something inside you stops you, as if there are still words left to say. You turn slowly, facing Ekko once more, with the rain falling between you like a curtain of memories and pain.
"Do you remember what you told me the last time we talked?" you ask, your voice trembling but firm. "You said that sometimes there are battles not worth fighting because you know you’ll never win them."
Ekko nods, the weight of his own words reflected in his tired eyes. "Yes, I remember. And I regret saying it."
"Don’t regret it," you say, a bitter smile forming on your lips. "Because you were right. This... us... we were one of those battles. I fought for you, for us, but in the end, we couldn’t win. We couldn’t be what we needed for each other."
Ekko closes his eyes, the pain in his chest intensifying. "I never wanted it to be like this. I never wanted you to lose faith in us."
"Faith wasn’t enough," you reply, your words cutting like a knife. "Not when the battle was lost from the start."
Silence takes over once more, each word a reminder of what was and will never be. Finally, you step back, moving away from Ekko and everything he represents.
"Goodbye, Ekko," you whisper, letting the rain wash away the last tears falling down your cheeks.
Ekko watches you leave, knowing those words will be the last you share. And as you disappear into the distance, his own regret consumes him, leaving him alone with the weight of a battle he should never have abandoned.
Silco
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The lights flickered weakly in the brothel of the Undercity, as voices mingled with the clamor of incessant activity. Silco moved through the shadows, his presence as imposing as ever, closing a deal with one of his associates. Everything was going according to plan until his gaze stopped in a dark corner, and he saw you.
You were there, your makeup smeared, and your provocative clothing accentuating the marks of injuries that covered your skin. Silco felt a dry blow in his chest, a combination of anger and suffocating guilt. He couldn’t help but approach you, his hand gripping your arm firmly.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with a harsh voice, each word laden with tension he couldn’t hide.
You looked up, your eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and latent hatred, but a bitter smile formed on your lips. "I'm exactly where I should be, Silco. I should never have left this place in the first place."
Silco narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening even more. "Don’t give me evasions. I want the truth."
You sighed deeply, letting the facade fall. Your eyes locked onto his, this time without a trace of the smile. "You want the truth? Very well." Your voice was a whisper laced with pain. "When you decided to abandon me, many started hunting me. I survived some attacks, others I didn’t." Slowly, you brushed your hair aside, revealing the patch over your left eye. "They tore it out. And, like everything in this damn place, they sold it to the highest bidder. Some found it exciting to have the eye of Silco's former 'bitch.'"
The rawness of your words left him immobile. The trauma soaked every syllable, and the guilt Silco felt grew like an oppressive shadow. "I had no one to protect me, no place to go. This brothel was my last refuge. So here I am, back in the only place I should never have left. And surprisingly, I'm doing well. You’d be surprised at what they're willing to pay for an encounter with what once belonged to you."
Silco couldn’t bear the self-degradation in your voice. "I’m going to get you out of here," he said firmly. "I’ll pay whatever it takes and bring you back home."
He leaned in to hug you, but you pushed him away with a scornful gesture. "What’s the matter, Silco? Tired of your new acquisition already? Miss having me under your control, like your personal trophy?" Your voice was lethal poison. "Keep your promises. I’m not going back with you. You taught me that love is an illusion, a mirage that only serves to mask hatred and danger. And sadly, I’m surrounded by both."
Silco swallowed, his facade beginning to crack. "Please," he insisted, his voice tinged with an unusual tremor. "Let me fix this. Let me help you."
But you had already walked away, heading toward an exotic-looking man waiting for you in a corner. "If you’ll excuse me, I have to work."
Without giving him another glance, you left, leaving Silco alone, trapped in a whirlwind of regret and pain. In his attempt to protect you, it was he who had condemned you to this life, and now the weight of his decisions crushed him, plunging him into a darkness even he could not master.
Mel
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It was an ordinary day when, upon opening your front door, you found Mel standing there, her eyes red from crying, her face filled with a despair so profound it moved you. Her posture, hunched and fragile, spoke more than any words could. Before you could say anything, she threw herself at you, seeking comfort as if her entire world had collapsed in an instant.
Words tumbled from her mouth in a rush, like a torrent of repressed emotions finally finding an outlet. "I’ve done it... I’ve done everything wrong... I don’t want to lose you. I can’t... please, don’t leave me. I need us to be together again. I can’t live with this lie. I love you, I love you, I’m begging you."
You held her in your arms, feeling her trembling body against yours, a refuge against the internal storm consuming her. You clung to her, hoping that all that had been broken between you could be repaired, but then, an unfamiliar voice interrupted the stillness of that moment.
"Sorry to interrupt," said a familiar female voice, with a tone that shook you. Caitlyn Kiramman appeared in the doorway, her hair disheveled, wearing a white shirt, almost translucent, that Mel recognized instantly. A shiver ran through her as she saw that the shirt belonged to you. Caitlyn smiled, somewhat awkwardly, but serene. "I’ll wait for you in the room," she said calmly before retreating into the house.
Mel, paralyzed, looked at you in disbelief, her anger beginning to awaken. "Seriously?" Her voice broke with disdain, but there was a contained fury in her eyes that you couldn’t ignore. "Caitlyn Kiramman? You couldn’t find a better replacement for me? Seriously?"
You stared at her for a moment before responding with a calmness that only masked the truth behind your words. "No, Mel, I’m not looking for replacements. Caitlyn isn’t here to fill any voids; she’s here for a good time. And let me tell you, she’s done an excellent job at that."
Mel clenched her fists, her face turning red with rage, frustration taking over her. "How could you? Did you cheat on me? With her? After everything we’ve been through?" Her words were sharp, like knives, and her pain became more evident with each passing second.
You remained serene, though something inside you was breaking. "What did you want me to do, Mel? Sit in a corner, crying in a bubble of self-pity, like you probably did all this time? No, Mel, I couldn’t just sit and wait for something to change. Life is too short to keep waiting for the impossible."
Mel’s words came out as a sigh of disappointment. "I’m so disappointed in you," she said, her voice trembling from the impact of your words.
You sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on your chest. "What we were living wasn’t real, Mel. It wasn’t enough for you, and it wasn’t enough for me either. You’ve been living in your mother’s shadow this whole time, looking for something you’ll never find. I can’t keep waiting for you to understand that. You got stuck in your world, and in the meantime, I moved on. I’m not going to apologize for that."
Mel, in tears, tried to get closer, a desperate attempt to capture what was already gone. She tried to kiss you, but you stopped her with unyielding firmness. "Mel," you said with a clear, firm voice. "Don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself."
She fell to her knees, her face overflowing with pain. "I beg you... please, come back to me. You’re the only real thing I’ve had in my life. I need you, I can’t live without you." Her sobs were heart-wrenching, like a child lost in a cruel world.
You looked at her for a long moment, your heart heavy, but the words that came from your lips were inevitable. "And why didn’t you take care of me, Mel? Why did you let me go so easily? If you really loved me, why did you abandon me? Why did you let me face all of this alone?"
Mel didn’t know what to say. She stayed there, her mouth open, unable to offer any justification. She only murmured one last "I love you" in an almost inaudible whisper.
You sighed deeply, the weight of reality crushing you, and you gently lifted her from the ground, guiding her to the door. "Goodbye, Mel. I hope you can sort things out with your mother. I can’t keep being part of this battle."
The door closed with a dull thud, and it wasn’t just the door to your house that was closing, but also the door to your heart. There was nothing more to do. It was time to let go.
Sevika
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The night was shrouded in a dense mist, and the bar buzzed with a mix of laughter, muffled conversations, and the clinking of glasses filled with liquid oblivion. The air was thick, saturated with the smell of tobacco, spilled alcohol, and sweat—a temporary refuge for broken souls. Sevika pushed the bar door open, stumbling slightly, her unsteady steps reflecting the state of her soul. Her dark, glassy eyes scanned the place with a mix of desperation and anxiety, seeking to drown the loneliness that pursued her like a relentless shadow.
When her eyes landed on the bar, her heart stopped for a moment that seemed eternal. There you were, behind the counter, moving with the professional grace of someone who had learned to hide pain behind a mask of indifference. Sevika felt the ground beneath her feet grow unstable, as if the earth itself was rebelling against her presence. She approached slowly, as if each step brought her closer to an abyss she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross.
When she reached the bar, she leaned on the counter with both hands, leaning toward you. Your gaze was a mix of surprise and something colder, something that made her shiver more than any strong drink.
"What do you want to drink?" you asked in a professional, restrained voice, your eyes barely shifting in her direction.
Sevika looked at you, desperately searching for any trace of the warmth you used to have. "I’ve missed you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper before a knot in her throat broke it. "I’m sorry... God, I’m so sorry for how things ended between us."
She took your hands with unusual clumsiness, kissing them repeatedly as her words fell like broken laments. "I’ve been alone, so alone that I looked for others to forget you, but it didn’t work. No one can make me forget you. Please, give me another chance."
You sighed, and with a calculated gesture, called another colleague to replace you, leading her outside to the back alley. You lit a cigarette calmly, offering her one that she accepted in silence. Both of you smoked, the smoke forming an almost tangible barrier between you.
The silence was finally broken by a question that escaped as a rough whisper from her lips: "Why aren’t you saying anything?"
You finished smoking, dropping the cigarette and crushing it underfoot before facing her directly. "What do you want me to say, Sevika?" Your voice was low, but each word was a dart piercing Sevika's chest.
She frowned, surprised by the coldness in your tone. "I don’t know, something. Something that doesn’t make me feel like a fool."
"Why do you feel like a fool?" you asked, crossing your arms, one eyebrow slightly raised.
Sevika gritted her teeth, her fury beginning to bubble just beneath the surface. "Because I confessed my feelings to you, told you everything I went through, and it seems like you don’t give a damn."
You nodded, as if slowly processing her words before responding with icy calm. "And did you care when you left me? Did you think about how your decision would affect me? Did you think about anyone other than yourself?"
Her words caught in her throat, and for the first time, Sevika didn’t know what to say. Your smile was bitter, triumphant. "Of course not. You’re a selfish person, Sevika. You walked in here by chance, and upon seeing me, suddenly you miss me and want everything back. Well, I’m not buying that crap."
"It’s not like that," she denied desperately. "I miss you, really. I care about you."
Your frown deepened, and you shook your head. "It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. You made your decision, and you have no right to ask me for anything after what you did to me."
Sevika tried to interrupt, but you cut her off sharply. "My break is over. Don’t drink anymore tonight. You’re talking nonsense." And with that, you went back inside, leaving her there, alone in the darkness.
Sevika stayed in the alley, staring at the door that closed behind you, while rage and sadness fused into a silent scream. She punched the wall hard, letting the physical pain try to drown out the torment she felt inside. But deep down, she knew that punch wasn’t enough to erase what she had lost, nor to heal what she had destroyed.
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rainbowsky · 1 day ago
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In all my years of being a GGDD fan, I don't think any year has ever been better than this last one.
In the past I have watched them struggle and face incredibly difficult situations, be forced to spend almost all of their time apart, and deal with scandals and setbacks.
2024 was a year I could never have dreamed of for both of them. Watching them both thrive so well, take charge of their careers and their lives to a degree never before seen, and to have so much time for their personal lives - it's all I've ever wanted for them.
And you can see how well they are thriving, how much happier they are, how much healthier they are, and how much of themselves is stamped on every single thing they do.
I frequently see fans spinning negative fantasies about them, and it makes me sad. As if there isn't enough pain in the world, why generate more in your own mind?
A lot of turtles tend to overly romanticize 2018 and 2019 because they were the years that The Untamed was filmed, promoted and aired, and that's where a lot of our favorite GGDD content was born. I think that's rather self-centered and shortsighted. If we take five seconds to remove our rose-colored glasses, surely we can see how difficult those years were for them.
Yes, they got to work together for a few months, they got to spend some fun time together promoting The Untamed and even got to be somewhat open about their affection for each other in front of a crowd, but outside of that summer dream, they were both in pretty precarious positions in their careers, and both of them faced a lot of really gruesome anti attacks. Neither of them had very much control over their careers or their choices, and their management situations were atrocious.
We don't even have to talk about 2020. That was an incredibly difficult year. GG was the focus of one of the worst cyberbullying and nearly career-ending scandals that's been seen in that industry. He was being threatened, the people connected to him and the brands that he dealt with were being threatened.
Any time he tried to do anything in his career, whether it was an appearance or an endorsement, antis would come out in droves and protest until it was shut down. There were active organized hate campaigns whose entire purpose was to destroy his life and his career. People were trying to infect him with COVID, and there were other threats upon his life. Multiple times online hate campaigns tried to spread the rumor that he had died.
He couldn't go anywhere without people following him and chanting hateful slogans at him and trying to infiltrate the hotels he was staying at. It was terrifying.
DD was constantly overworked, exhausted, always on the move with barely any time to come up for air.
They had to spend most of their time apart, including some of the quarantine time, when DD was isolated so that he could begin filming LOF, right when the worst of the scandal broke. GG's grandfather died, and he faced so many personal burdens.
They did get some fun times together of course, and there were some huge successes for both of them, including GG's spectacular comeback at the end of the year with his sea of red for Tencent All Star Night. Even turtles worked to help ensure he had his red sea.
And GG and DD got to clown around and be silly as well, and they made a real effort to show us that they were getting through fine, they would be okay and that they were still the same people, still able to be happy. We got so much candy that year, and so many great LRLG messages as well.
But that was just a sign of their character and strength. Make no mistake about it, that was a difficult year.
The intervening years between then and now have been a bit of a mixed bag. There were a lot of COVID frustrations (scheduling issues, Kafkaesque hoops to jump through, inability to travel outside the country, risk of ending up in a prolonged lockdown, inevitable health stress), they had to spend a lot of time apart and there were more and more crackdowns on the entertainment industry, on the queer community and on fandom culture, which made things feel positively dismal and oppressive - at times even scary.
However, it's undeniable that things have been gradually improving for them. They've both been building more and more autonomy and control in their careers, and building more respect from audiences and within the industry. They've both been prioritizing their personal lives more and more. And yes - they've BOTH been looking happier, more relaxed, more balanced.
I've talked about that a fair bit over the past couple of years. Most recently in this post.
Looking at 2024, they have had so much more free time in their lives, have been able to spend so much more time together in the same city, have spent time with each other wherever they were filming, and even got to travel and spend some fun downtime outside of China.
They are in such powerful positions compared to even a couple years ago. They have made great connections and worked on some amazing projects.
GG has been working with some of the top directors on some of the most anticipated projects in C-ent. He recorded an entire solo album and several music videos, and did all of that on his own time and on his own dime, and released it to critical acclaim and massive success with audiences.
He has been the talk of the globe in fashion circles and entertainment circles, and has been the face behind some of the most successful and exciting campaigns for some of the most prestigious brands in the world.
He got to travel a lot outside of China, and build on some of the great connections he's made over the years. He got to spend time with his parents traveling Europe!
He's given us so much incredible content with his vlogs and photo sets. It's just mind-boggling how much he's given us over the past couple of years.
DD took initiative to propose and participate in a documentary series where he got to explore interesting locations and engage in some of the most extreme outdoor activities. What could possibly be more exciting for someone like him?
He got to work with a team of conservationists who are fighting to save pangolins, and filmed a documentary there as well. Knowing him, that has to be one of the most rewarding things he's ever done in his life.
Both documentaries were highly acclaimed and award-winning.
Speaking of awards, he debuted as a film star and has been nominated for all of the top awards in China both for his film work and his drama work!
He has signed a new contract with his management company that will certainly have put him in a very powerful position in the company as their top breadwinner. He has been exceptionally successful with endorsements, holding more endorsements than anyone else in C-ent.
He got to play tennis on the top of The Great Wall with one of the top players in the world (regardless of how much I despise Djokovic).
He got to be an Olympic torch bearer! He is the ambassador for multiple high profile organizations and projects.
He earned his auto racing license, joined a racing team and finished in first place in his first ever auto race!
Make no mistake about it, they are both now solidly calling the shots in their own lives and careers, they are living their best lives, and they are both happier than I have ever seen them in all of these years.
And much more healthy! Just take one look at them and you can see how much healthier they both are. They've been playing a lot of sports and doing a lot of active outdoor activities together, and it shows in how much happier and healthier they are.
Frankly anyone who can't see that has their head stuffed firmly in a moist dark place.
I urge everyone to center GG and DD in all of our fandom explorations, theories and interpretations. The reality is that the more that they get to focus on their own lives and careers and personal freedoms, the less candy and CPN we're likely to see. We should be happy for them rather than try to spin sad tales about it.
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