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mydearestbeloved · 3 months ago

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Chapter 26 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

Content Warnings: This chapter is Red, Igris, & < Devourer > butterflies-centric—sorry, little to no JinwooxReader in this one; this chapter also contains some elements of gore—this is a work of fiction and I do not condone or glorify violence in real life; my attempts at magical anatomy—'cause college is still kicking my ass when it's the holidays, so I must apologize if this chapter might be boring; & experimental writings—a.k.a. me trying out a different style of being more descriptive and new p.o.v.s shifts.

See more in the < End Note > in case the descriptions in this chapter do not deliver as well as I had hoped + extra funsies.

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

——oOo——

{ < Children of ‘Trial Player’ >

File 001# - Quick Status Window

< Red >

Lv. MAX

"The Ducchess"

Would you like to initiate < Title Change >?

<<Yes>> <No>

Initiating < Title Change > . . .

< Red >

Lv. MAX

“The Devourer”

< Title Change > successful!

Specialty Passive Skill: < Crimson Carnage > is activated!

*In the duration of < The Feast >, user will gain 3× the energy and experience points from consuming lifeforce. Both can still be distributed to fellow < Children of ‘Trial Player’ >.

Stats: < HP >, < Stamina >, and < Mania > are now boosted.

Special Note: “Sustain the flesh, blind the soul.”_ }

——oOo——

At the center of the morbid tableau, Igris saw her.

A study in grace—a slender silhouette clad in velvety white and traces of black, the intricate patterns of her wings shimmered like molten rubies on flowing sleeves and coat tails. Every little movement was deliberate yet seamlessly flowed amidst havoc, out of place yet undeniably captivating.

Amid the blood-soaked carnage, she seemed untouched by the grime and chaos. Unhurried steps so light, the heels of her boots left no imprint on the sodden earth. She weaved through devoured carcasses left and right with the same grace as she would have when flying in her butterfly form.

A rapier on one hand, her crimson eyes, languid yet sharp, fixed on the dungeon boss his Liege had felled—once a towering centaur-like beast, its body now laid on the ground with its neck slashed open. Red approached its head, its purple blood pooled under, yet there was not a single splash when she stepped on it, only calm ripples.

The thin silver blade emitted wisps akin to flames as she got close enough. At the same level of its eye, it was clear that the beast’s vacant optic that stared into the void was larger than her head.

Shing!

Igris caught the quick circular slash of metal, and at first, there seemed to be nothing amiss. At least until—

Gush!

Viscous liquid burst out like a jet stream, becoming a heavy downpour as it fell. In a split second, Red’s figure was swallowed by the waterfall, the blood pooling underneath widening in size.

It was not until a few seconds later that the curtain of purple lifted enough for everyone to finally get a glimpse, the outline of the figure in it. As the stream progressively lessened in its intensity and amount, Red didn’t move a single step from her position, and it was revealed later that she remained as pristine as ever, not even her pants were soiled by the icky violet. She stood there under an umbrella where her rapier had been, the white material unstained as the droplets of blood dripped down from the lace decorated with red gems.

When the outburst of blood around the beast’s eye finally ran out, the remaining little amount of liquid cascading down the orb, the unseeing eye shifted. Red took a step to the side as the beast’s eyeball rolled out of its socket onto the purple ground, following it were the blood vessels, nerve optic, and tendons with their detached ends cut short.

When the eyeball stopped rolling, there was a swarm of butterflies at the ready, and soon, the globe was surrounded and began to be gnawed on by the voracious insects.

Red remained unbothered. She went to close her umbrella, and then pulled at its handle, revealing that it was a scabbard as the thin blade came to view once again. The umbrella disappeared in red wisps as Red jumped onto the beast's massive head and began to chop away. First at his antlers, the bony branches fell to each side with its cut-edges blackened, and began to glitch away until the whole antlers vanished into air, presumably stored into your inventory.

Igris also caught her next slash: a horizontal one, and then a vertical that was instantly followed by a backflip—Red landing on the beast’s upper body behind the detached head.

Something similar to before happened, it took a few seconds after the initial swing of her blade for the blood to burst, first from the horizontal cut that detached the snout and the next was from the rest of the head splitting into two halves right in the middle. Igris recognized this delayed reaction, it was the body that didn’t realize it was cut the moment it was when the cut was done far too quickly for it to respond in time.

Igris knew this because he was also capable of doing such. However…

The rapier was not a blade meant to slash like other swords typically. It was meant for prioritizing speed and precision, capitalizing on its user’s dexterity and finesse. And Red had proven she had all of these qualities when she had done exactly thrusting attacks when they fought together moments prior.

A rapier was a sword meant to pierce.

So how in his Liege’s name did she was able to cut through flesh and bones so easily with that same slender and pointed blade?

The only possible explanation Igris could think of was the use of magic, the red wisps as the proof. It was not unlikely for swordsmen and swordswomen capable of magic to use them to enhance their attacks, be it the body or the weapon itself. Perhaps she used magic to give the blade sharper edges and fortified it to not break under heavier pressure? Then she also needed more strength to accomplish that clean cut.

But was that all there was to it when her stances were just as odd?

As though caught in an endless waltz, even in combat, Red’s steps were odd. It wasn’t practical; it was theatrical, the combination of sheer extravagance and fluidity of it all.

It wasn’t the typical disciplined efficiency of a warrior’s training. No, her movements carried the flair of high society, the sway of aristocrats at frivolous galas.

{”I am aware that you do not fancy such occasions,”}

It reminded Igris of the rare instances when he had been forced to attend those annoying noble gatherings in life—when he could’ve been fighting on the battlefield instead—standing stiff and indifferent at the edge of opulent ballrooms, enduring the swish of gowns and the hum of violins for the sake of duty.

{An upturned of plump lips glistened, as though painted by blood, something he was more familiar with—}

Or perhaps it was more akin to the high-end performances he had glimpsed while on patrol, the kind that packed theaters and sparked envy among the masses unable to afford. The kind where tickets were scarce and disputes over seating made so much ruckus and his duties more complicated—stagnating his training, the progress to his goal—in the past.

{”However…” An extended hand delicately hidden under satin glove.}

Those fleeting moments were far from meaningful to him, but they had left enough of an impression for him to recognize the same artistry now.

Her moves weren’t a metaphorical dance of the blade, the way swordsmen sometimes fought with an almost artistic rhythm.

No, Red was dancing—truly dancing.

{—she was more familiar to him than anything else in this godforsaken room.}

Every pivot was a pirouette, every sweep steeped in poise, every sway she put her heart into it. A face so serenely doing her calling, not caring who was watching or what the world might think of the unconventionality. She moved as though the battlefield was her stage and she its prima ballerina.

And, to Igris’s astonishment, it worked—brilliantly, might he add.

{”Can you humor this lady just once,”}

A match, a complimentary to his own.

He had never seen anything like it before.

{”Sir Knight?”}

“How fascinating.”

Even before Red had taken her current form, Igris had always been intrigued by the red butterfly that had inexplicably taken a liking to him—or so you had claimed.

To him, she had always carried an air of refinement that set her apart. Every flutter of her iridescent wings was not without purpose, Red had always been peculiarly polite and oddly dignified for a summon. When the shadows discovered they could communicate with the butterflies—a feat made possible, apparently, through a telepathic mechanism Igris only vaguely understood as a mix of their mimicry of shadows and some illusions—Red’s demeanor stood out for her articulate and courteous responses.

Now, that same poise radiated from her in full force.

As Red continued to cut away the dungeon boss’s body into smaller pieces so the other butterflies would have an easier time to eat, an acrid smell wafted. Igris caught the sight of blackened spots and edges on some chopped fleshes. Only when a bone fell with its cut-side directly visible to him did Igris have his answer.

Fire.

The surface of the cut on the bone was completely blackened—no, charred.

Not every chopped part was; the fleshes mostly remained fresh which Red might have enough strength to cut through. But when it came to a harder material like the bone, the cut was always completely burned. And the fleshes that did have that discoloration must’ve been the skeletal muscles, the closest one to the bones—that meant Red had control over when and how much heat was needed.

Red landed back on a puddle in the ground with grace—again, no splash, just ripples—her rapier disintegrating into the same red wisps as her magic, the motion was like a ballerina’s reverence. As the dungeon’s boss body fell in neat cubicle pieces behind her, the red butterflies closing in to eat like a curtain-call.

A step accompanied by a ripple.

Another followed.

Red walked towards a minion’s corpse, significantly smaller than the boss’, but was still noticeably larger than her own. While the body below the neck was already getting chewed on, the head was left untouched. With deliberate care, Red knelt beside it, her tailcoat pooling around her like spreading wings.

Right hand took off the left’s glove, the remaining other pulled by teeth until the delicate and pale fingers underneath was revealed. As both pieces of dark leather vanished into thin air, black nails trailed along the beast’s jawline in an almost gentle gesture, as though caressing a long-lost lover.

She began to hum, a calming melody that sent chills through Igris. It wasn’t a tune he recognized, but there was something uncomfortably intimate about it, as if she were singing a lullaby for a child.

A small ornate dagger materialized, fingers curling around its handle in firm. The ornate blade gleaming in the muted light as she raised it high—

Stab!

Igris flinched—a reaction he hadn’t experienced in years—as the silver tip plunged into the beast’s unseeing eye.

Similar to the new… feeding routine of the butterflies, he had no problem with the act of stabbing itself—it was the way the scene unfolded, like an oil painting came to life. The illustrated content long debated between the brutality it actually depicted behind strokes of beautiful paints, pure white among vivid reds and deep shadows.

Red pulled the dagger free with practiced ease, and with it came the beast’s eyeball.

The strings of optic nerve and blood vessels stretched from the force; the other end clung stubbornly to the socket. With a flick of her wrist, they broke in the middle, the orb held aloft like a precious gem while the bundle of fibers dangled from it, swaying like a clock’s pendulum.

The dagger, now acting as a makeshift fork, brought the eyeball to her lips. Her sharp canines peeked through as she bit into the orb. A brief sight—a single rivulet of viscous fluid trickling down the corner of her lips to her chin—was almost immediately hidden behind a palm, as if the act of showing the sight itself was most impolite. An accidental stroke in the otherwise masterful portrait.

Despite the slight hiccup, Red maintained her composure. The dagger in her right replaced by a materialized handkerchief that she dabbed over her lips daintily, catching any stray pieces as she quietly chewed. Her carmine gaze closed to savor, as though she were merely fine dining at a dinner gala, the orchestra of carnage its backdrop.

“Hm...” She swallowed delicately, her voice a dulcet whisper that carried through the stage. “A bit too earthy for my taste.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a serene smile, and the usual sight of her upturned lips would’ve been captivating—it was still—but now, Igris didn’t think just one word would do the scene in front of him their due.

“Well?” Red turned her head slightly, vermillion orbs opening with a glint.

“What do you think, children?”

——oOo——

The red kaleidoscope seemed to simultaneously pause mid-feast, a brief change in their pattern, a different flutter. Distant bells in the wind, like twinkling stars given voice.

Chime. Chime. Chime. Gurgle. Chime—

‘Gurgle’?

A tremor ran through the swarm. Their luminous bodies wavered, light bending strangely around some, as if space itself recoiled. The chimes grew discordant, warping into something wet and bubbling, like air escaping through viscera.

Squish…

A single butterfly convulsed midair. Tiny form curling in on itself, shrinking—no, collapsing. Wings folded inward with a schlk, dissolving into a raw essence of erratically pulsing mass of light. And from that quivering cocoon, something grew.

SQUELCH!

A spine unraveled; a spider’s threads pulled taut from unseen tether. Bones spiraled into existence, each piece of vertebrae locking into place with a sharp click. From there, the thin golden tendrils further expanded the structure like a time-lapsed birth—simultaneous yet seamless.

Upward, forming the trachea, jawbone snapping into place with a muted crck. The smooth curve of a skull, hollow sockets yawning open, vacant.

Downward, the pelvis solidified, grinding against before anchoring the extending femurs and other bones that would shape the legs, feet, and toes. Similarly for the upper extremities, from the shoulder bones, lengthening arms, hands, and down to the phalanges that made up each finger.

Inward, ribs sprouted from the spine’s embrace with a slow, deliberate snap-snap-snap, spreading like curved thorns, forming a cage locked by the sternum. And nestled within that hollow prison, a small thing took shape, suspended in the air just like the rest, a crystalline jewel held between unseen fingers.

Motionless—silent.

{How far can an imitation of life go?}

Like roots seeking soil, nerves branched out, mapping, in search of something to anchor to. Alongside them, veins crawled along the ivory framework, seeking to create the intricate web to feed, growing from that very same confined still-mass at the center.

Like ink spreading through water, a deep crimson bloomed then—

Ba-dump.

A pulse rippled through the arteries as blood surged outward, painting the spectral shifting-mass with life as raw organs came into being. Lungs, pinkish and fragile, swelled as if on the verge of their first breath, filling the rest of the ribcage. A brain placed snug within the skull where the eyeballs popped in their sockets. The liver slid into place with a damp plorp, intestines coiled like serpents, slick in the dim settings.

The stomach, kidneys, and so forth, each instrument settled into their place perfectly between the smooth walls of bone while sinew knitted around them like a loom at work over shifting joints. Nerves and veins threaded through all as muscles stretched over them in a weave where limbs twitched to life. True skin followed suit from behind, covering the exposed curves of the body and face with the same abnormal growth, each feature smoothed into an eerie, flawless symmetry.

For a time, what were under were still just as see-through even with the steady appearance of the outermost layer. At least, until the translucent skin neared its completion of sealing over the body. What should be the healthy complexion creeping in as the flesh and dermis closed over the last exposed area—a last glimpse over the beating heart.

{If you lie long enough—}

As naked as a newborn, a maiden’s bare feet kissed the slick, viscous blood pooling beneath. The deep purple clung, stark against the rain-watered surface, too pristine, like a being sculpted rather than born. Her wings, now immense as they adjusted to the owner’s new form, stretched one final time before shuddering. As if exhaling their last breath, the glittering membrane melted into the smooth planes of her back, disappearing as if they had never been there.

As if the one left standing was undoubtedly just a mere human.

And more followed.

A notable number of butterflies went through the same collapse. Delicate bodies unraveling, twisting, blooming like life in fast motion. Their arrival was heralded by the symphony of growth—cartilage cracking, skin sealing with quiet, wet whispers, the sickeningly organic sounds of something becoming, of creating features to each of their own.

Save for the rain, the silence of a field of mannequin settled after.

Until one threw her head back, auburn locks following her every movement, a new set of green eyes catching light under the drizzle.

The undeniably rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, making motions with her rosy lips—the sound light and airy, almost melodic.

{—won’t it become the truth?}

Following the lead, a second one, black of hair, brown of skin, and hazel for eyes, also started tittering. Joined by a third, white-haired and red-eyed, clapping gleefully. A fourth followed, and then a fifth, sixth, and the rest—small delighted laughs that grew louder and louder—a crescendo.

The first to move wobbled slightly on her feet, crouching beside the nearest carcass, fingertips tracing its ruined hide with something akin to fascination. Then, with a motion of deceptive ease, the beast’s skin peeled away with a wet rip.

She stumbled back, losing her balance and landing onto her haunches with a childlike-“Oof!”, even as the spray of warm, sticky blood came into contact with her side. She clutched the torn chunk in her bloodied cradle—like a prize, fresh crescent marks forming under digging nails—uncaring of the fleshy part still dripping onto her lap.

She lifted it to her mouth, a peek of growing canines between parted lips before teeth sunk into meat and tore them away under. Icky purple painted her chin, ran down the pale column of her throat as she chewed, staining the pristine surface that magic had so carefully perfected.

The very first taste on her tongue, of iron thick and rich.

When she eagerly swallowed, the others followed.

The butterflies—those still in their original form—perched alongside their newly reborn kin. Together, the feast began anew, of chimes and tearing flesh, of lips smacking against dripping muscles, of mirthful hums between gulps. Until each was bathed in the mix of blood and rain, violet dripping from fluttering wings and tresses from head to toe.

And at the center of it all, Red’s smile lingered, sealing her sight once more—content.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [25/02/2025]

I'm back y'all! 🥳

For a short while at least. 🥹

I might've gone overboard writing the descriptions for this one. 😅 I'm not so sure on how well I am at describing action sequences, I still want to add them, so I'm learning as I go! 🫡 And so sorry if the magical anatomical sequence felt like a lesson, it's definitely NOT a real-life lesson okay? Please note the ✨️fantasy✨️-elements!

I'm already out of ideas on what more to edit to make this chapter better, so let me know your thoughts on this! 🥰

And just for clarification, what I want to depict for Red's fighting style is not true swordmanship. Igris stated that her moves are more theatrical, not efficient. The butterflies are not meant to surpass the shadows in direct combat, with few exceptions. They can hold their ground long enough if push comes to shove. 🦋��

As for Red's dance-based fighting style, I would like to add that it will not be copy-paste Cha Hae-in's. I would like to think Hae-in's is like "she fights like she dances", while what I want for Red's is more like "she uses dances to fight". This will correlate to Red's other title by the system that will be revealed in the future, but what I can say now is that Red won't have or in any way take Hae-in's title. Our lovely Hae-in will still be the only one nicknamed "The Dancer" as she deserves, and I will NOT take that away from her 😤❤️

I also took my chance on writing Igris' backstory from what we know of him right now, mainly from the brief info I got from reading the Solo Leveling: Arise wiki, so plus some creative liberties to match the story. I DO NOT play the game—interested, but don't exactly have the time to try it out—so feel free to send corrections if I got any info wrong. 🙏

Anyone interested in theorizing what's up with Red and Igris? 🤭

Also, I mentioned 3 new humanoid butterflies here with more physical decriptions than the rest, but still less than the leaders of kaleidoscopes (the main 8 butterflies, i.e. Red, 'Bel', Trick, Neonie, Blanche, Sol, Gale, & Aria).

The 3 mentioned here—

Auburn-haired, green eyes, with olive skin;

Ravenette, hazel eyes, with brown skin;

White hair, red eyes, albino

—are meant to be background characters kinda easter egg. So, for funsies, can any of you figure out which 3 shadows soldiers these butterflies are supposed to be counterparts of?

Hint: They are only mentioned in the Solo Leveling anime's media, as far as I know. 🤔

And last but not least, in celebration of this chapter being Red-centric, a dear friend of mine and fellow beloved Reader of Trial Player AU, @eternadreeblissa, who somehow predicted this chapter being Red-centric (just kidding, but it's still very good timing since I don't remember ever spoiling her on this chapter until AFTER she sent her gift), sent me this absolutely fucking gorgeous panel of Red from Chapter 20 😍

I'm dying from happiness ASDFGHJKL

Boo, I love you so much. ❤️❤️❤️

Please check it out y'all! And better yet, check out her blog, her arts are so 🩷❤️🖤

Feedbacks are very much appreciated. Thank you for reading. 🙏💕

188 notes · View notes

gctawaygirl · 6 months ago

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"you are too adorable. don't worry though, your secret is safe with me," ruby retorted with a soft smile. she was quick to slip her hands over his cheeks, holding his face gently in her hands, "you are a very talented musician and you know those songs inside and out and backwards. as soon as you step out onto that stage, everything will click into place," she reassured, "and if you ever say that you think you suck to me again, so help me, you'll regret it because you do not and anyone who thinks that isn't worth your time."

"i'm not adorable." the petulant response is quick and powerful, though he would never deny his nerves, crawling around in his stomach and upsettingly powerful. "what if i choke? what if i get up there and forget every song i've ever written? what if everyone out there hates my stuff? what if myself sucks, ru?"

#muse : ruby redferne #ruby & maddox 001 #interactions : ruby & maddox #partner : virtueofsanityx

46 notes · View notes

goldsainz · 7 months ago

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# CL16 — SOUS LES ÉTOILES DE NOËL !

MASTERLIST !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ charles organizes a romantic christmas getaway at his place in the alps.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ none, just fluff!

003. NOTE !

✯ how are you guys liking the christmas specials so far? i’d love to receive some feedback 🫶

word count : 1,8k

The season had been long and grueling, with endless laps around the world’s most challenging circuits. For Charles, the weight of the year lingered in his weary smile as he sent the invitation—a simple text: "Come spend Christmas with me. I have a place in the Alps. Quiet, just us."

The idea of escaping to a secluded chalet in the French Alps was irresistible. You imagined the snowy peaks, the crackle of a fire, and Charles—a vision of peace and charm, unburdened by the pressures of his career. When you finally arrived, the chalet did not disappoint.

Nestled among towering pines, the wooden chalet exudes warmth. Its dark timber beams were wrapped in twinkling lights, and a wreath adorned the door. Inside, a crackling fire bathed the room in golden light. The air smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon, as if Christmas itself had taken residence here.

“Bienvenue,” he said softly when you arrived at the chalet, the rich timbre of his accent making the word feel like a gift in itself.

The interior of the chalet was just as inviting as its perfect exterior. Wood-paneled walls gave the space a rustic charm, while the roaring fire in the stone hearth filled the room with both warmth and a golden glow. Cozy blankets were draped over a large, overstuffed sofa, their textures inviting and soft. Pillows in festive patterns—reds, greens, and snowy whites—added a touch of holiday cheer. In the corner, a Christmas tree stood proudly, its branches adorned with ornaments that shimmered in the firelight.

The decorations were simple but thoughtful: glass baubles, wooden stars, and tiny bells that jingled faintly when you brushed past them. At the base, a few gifts wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine added an understated charm.

“It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with quiet awe as you took it all in.

“Not yet,” Charles replied, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “We haven’t had dinner.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and easy. The world outside felt distant, muffled by the thick snow blanketing the mountains and the quiet that seemed to envelop the chalet. The air inside was tinged with the faintest hints of cinnamon and pine, as if Christmas itself had settled into the space. It was as if time had slowed, and for the first time in months, you felt your shoulders relax, your worries dissipating in the tranquil beauty of it all.

The warmth of the chalet wrapped around you both like a cocoon, and Charles seemed just as content. His energy was different here—softer, more at ease. He moved through the space as though he belonged to it, a calm confidence replacing the quick, determined strides you were so used to seeing.

When dinner was ready, it was as comforting as the setting. Charles had gone all out, planning a classic réveillon feast; a French tradition that celebrated indulgence and connection. The dining table, positioned near a wide window overlooking the snowy expanse, was set simply but elegantly. A garland of evergreen branches ran down the center, interspersed with pinecones and tiny white candles in glass holders.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Charles teased, pouring you a glass of red wine, the deep ruby liquid catching the flickering candlelight.

“Starving,” you replied, watching the way the firelight danced in his green eyes.

The first course was a decadent foie gras served with freshly baked baguette, the crust still warm. Charles explained the best way to enjoy it, his enthusiasm lighting up his features.

Next came the main courses—a perfectly roasted goose surrounded by caramelized chestnuts, a creamy potato gratin with just the right amount of nutmeg, and a small mountain of buttered green beans. Each dish was presented with care, and Charles took the time to describe them, his voice filled with pride.

“And these cheeses,” he said as he placed a platter between you, “are from a local farm. The chèvre is incredible, but this one”—he pointed to a soft, creamy wheel—“is my favorite.”

Course after course appeared, each one somehow better than the last. Between bites, you watched Charles relax further, the lines of exhaustion on his face softening with each sip of wine, each shared laugh. He leaned back in his chair at times, his grin easy and boyish as he recounted a particularly funny story from his last race.

By the time dessert arrived—a slightly lopsided bûche de Noël—he was clearly pleased with himself.

“I helped with this one,” he said proudly as he set the chocolate yule log in the center of the table.

“Helped?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your tone skeptical but amused.

“Well,” he admitted, his cheeks turning pink in the firelight, “I might’ve just added the powdered sugar. But still.”

You couldn’t stop smiling as you took a bite, the rich chocolate melting on your tongue. “It’s perfect,” you said, savoring the sweetness.

“Not as perfect as this,” he murmured, his gaze softening as it lingered on you.

The moment held a quiet intensity, the kind that didn’t need words to fill the silence. His subtle grin carried something deeper—gratitude, affection, and perhaps a touch of awe. The world outside the chalet seemed to fade away entirely, leaving only the two of you surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the gentle glow of Christmas.

When the clock neared midnight, Charles stood and reached out his hand. “Come with me,” he said, his tone filled with an almost childlike excitement. “I want to show you something.”

Intrigued, you slid your hand into his, the comforting strength of his grasp sending a rush of warmth through you. Together, you bundled into your coats and scarves, the wool soft against your skin. His touch lingered as he adjusted your scarf, his fingertips brushing your cheek. “There,” he said, satisfied, as if preparing you for a magical adventure.

The crisp night air embraced you as you stepped outside. Snowflakes fell gently, blanketing the world in white, their crystalline forms catching the faint light of the chalet behind you. The snow crunched beneath your boots with each step, the sound punctuating the serene quiet of the forest.

Charles led the way through the towering pines, their branches heavy with snow and glistening faintly under the starlight. The air was so still that every sound—the gentle whisper of the wind, the distant hoot of an owl, and the soft rhythm of his steps beside you—felt amplified, like a symphony composed solely for the two of you.

The clearing appeared almost suddenly, a wide expanse where the snow glittered like diamonds under the infinite sky. Above, the stars stretched endlessly, their brilliance untouched by city lights, casting a serene glow over the scene.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, as if anything louder would disturb the sanctity of the moment.

“It is,” Charles replied, though his eyes weren’t on the stars. They were fixed on you.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out something small. The item, a leather notebook with edges slightly worn from use, looked humble yet meaningful in his hands. He extended it toward you, his expression a mixture of shyness and vulnerability, as though he were baring a part of his soul.

“What’s this?” you asked softly, running your fingers over the smooth, weathered cover before flipping it open.

“It’s something I’ve been working on,” he said, his voice a touch unsteady but sincere.

The first page held a date, neatly written, and a memory. As you flipped through the notebook, you realized it was filled with moments—days spent laughing over coffee, late nights talking about your dreams, even quiet instances when words weren’t necessary. Each entry was written in his handwriting, neat yet personal, and infused with a warmth that made your chest ache.

“I started writing these when I realized how much they mattered to me,” Charles said, his gaze dropping momentarily to the snow at his feet. “Sometimes, it’s hard to say everything out loud. But I didn’t want to forget any of it. And I wanted you to know.”

Your breath hitched as you turned the pages, each one revealing more of his heart, his care, his love. The notebook wasn’t just a collection of memories; it was a testament to how deeply he cherished your time together.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of emotion.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, stepping closer until his warmth enveloped you. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. The snow fell softly around him, clinging to his dark hair and framing his face in a way that made him seem ethereal under the starlight. His green eyes held yours, filled with an intensity that stole the words from your lips.

When he kissed you, it was unhurried and tender, as if time itself had paused to witness the moment. The world around you disappeared, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch, and the silent promise written in the stars above.

As he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His breath mingled with yours in the cold air, and his voice, thick with emotion, broke the silence. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his words carrying the weight of everything he felt.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, your heart so full it felt as if it might burst.

Hand in hand, you made your way back to the chalet, the notebook clutched tightly to your chest. The fire had dwindled into glowing embers, casting a soft, golden light across the room as you both settled onto the sofa. Charles wrapped a blanket around you, his arm pulling you close to his side.

The notebook rested in your lap, its pages heavy with meaning. You ran your fingers over the edges, the leather warm from your touch. “I can’t believe you did this,” you said, your voice soft with wonder.

He tilted his head to look at you, his expression unguarded and tender. “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. Even when I’m far away, you’re always here,” he said, his hand brushing lightly over your heart.

As the flames crackled softly and the scent of pine lingered in the air, you leaned into his embrace, feeling a peace you hadn’t known in months. The world beyond the mountains felt distant, insignificant compared to the quiet perfection of this moment.

The snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the chalet in serenity. Under the stars of Christmas, everything felt complete, as though the universe itself had conspired to create this magical evening just for the two of you.

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frost-queen · 4 months ago

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🅼🅾🅽🅺🅴🆈 🅱🅰🆁🆂 // part 13 (Reader x Young-il / player 001)

Tag: @slythetic, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr @noiyaaa, @filmedbyharkness , @uniquecutie-puffs, @r3va-dwme, @annasnape7, @starkeyszn, @bonelessghoul, @carrotjuicepdf, @imenekiki, @gay4hotmilfs, @yummycement, @sooyasya, @nerdytif, @hollxe1, @venavanup,

@love-zami, @formula1love,@coruja12345, @ingstadstarlight, @samanthadegaro, @sweetheartlizzie07, @enhasrii, @lokiscure, @esposadomd, @hanta-seros-wifey, @verouys , @p1ckld3r, @thelastemzy , @Iglily, @hanakokunzz , @lovelifeyolo18 , @dumbestchaos, @watasinekoru , @bloooooopblopblop, @mrsyixingunicorn10 , @kyxmlii , @angelofthorr , @carolinevoight , @ooddiieesblog, @reka13, @solarpotato, @fallout-girl219, @avery-043009, @colorwastaken, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @metalbaby2, @machipyun, @gloriousjellyfisharcade, @tomiokasecretlover

@blogforhoes , @4inchfae , @tinylawyerbluebird, @reallysparklychaos, @dxrkheavensworld, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @itosh1teru, @agentcable, @trashy1turtle, @verouys, @indifitel6661, @udgigdtivfsjh, @luvleyprincess, @luvr4miya, @enzosluvr, @pinkyzzz, @prongs-moon, @albubek1, @cowuies, @hansharfi, @evyiione, @ruby-the-scholar

Summary: The next games comes in set as you are forced to watch. Watch as your friends endure the difficult task, unable to help them from up in the VIP box. With each fleating moment, your desire to get your friends out grows more desperate. Will you find a way... is there even a way? [series]

A parkour off the ground. Colourful bars taking several directions. Green. Red. Blue and yellow. The walls a darker shade with lights illuminating the way. You leaned a bit closer to the edge of your seat. Down below a black hole. A swallowing mouth ready to devour those with little strength. At each sides a platform. The timer massive at the left side. On the right, you saw as the doors opened. Players approaching the platform with anxiety.

In-ho tugged on your hand for you to sit back. You slid to the back, keeping your eyes on the arriving players. Trying to distinguish anyone you knew. The first you spotted was Dae-ho. Looking nervously. His gaze meeting up in the direction of you. An urge took over as you wanted to call out for him. Chest already moving a bit closer. Yet In-ho’s gentle tug kept you in place. Squeezing your hand to keep you silent.

With hard restrictions, you settled back. Unable to speak the words in your mind. I am here Dae-ho. I am alive. Your eyes widened upon seeing Jun-hee. She came joining Dae-ho’s side. As always a hand on her stomach. Haunting thoughts tormenting you, you turned to look at In-ho. – “She’s pregnant.” – you reminded him in a low voice so the VIP’s wouldn’t hear you.

In-ho kept his gaze in front of him. Humming only once. – “She won’t make it. Do something.” – you begged shaking your embraced hand between the two of you. – “I can’t.” – In-ho responded lowly. In shock, you looked back at the game. Feeling sick as you knew Jun-hee would have little chances with this game. Her strength wasn’t at it’s fullest. So for a pregnant girl to go over a parkour of monkey bars up in the air would be lethal.

“When does this game start!” – one of the VIP’s called out in boredom. Throwing some popcorn at the large window. Another one yawned deliberately. – “Wake me up when the first one starts swinging.” – he said laying casually in his seat. You could feel In-ho’s muscles tense. This was torture and you knew he needed to keep them pleased. They were disgusting and being around them was the absolute worst.

All players had entered now, gathered around in a group. Pink suits standing in front. One of them turned slightly, gesturing at the bars. Presumably explaining the games. Not that it needed much explaining. Reach the end by the monkey bars without falling. You had a lot of hope in most of your friends. They were strong. Yet Jun-hee and Geum-ja was what worried you. No matter what it required a lot of arm strength to keep holding on to the bars.

The first player stepped up to the pink suits with shaking legs. – “Finally!” – a VIP called out. You jumped out of your skin, feeling something rain on you. Taunt you as you looked down on your lap. Seeing some popcorn had landed there. Turning your head, you saw the lion’s mask with his hand in a bucket of popcorn.

Moving it up to wave flirtatiously at you. It disgusted you and so it did In-ho as he swiped his hand over your lap to get rid of the popcorn. – “Don’t look at him.” – he told you making you turn back to the front. The first player was already hanging up in the air. Legs swinging back and forth as he tried to reach for the blue bars. The next player setting up.

Swallowing nervously you didn’t dare to look, yet somehow you were compelled to watch. Needing to know if your friends would be alright. Another player came hanging on the monkey bars. Swinging their legs to reach for the next bar. A green one. His hand reached for it, clasped around the green bar till it slipped. Making him loose his grip and fall into the darkening. His scream dying out.

The VIP’s behind you were going wild for the first death. You shuddered out a breath, having squeezed In-ho’s hand with force. His head slightly turned to you. A soft gasp escaped your mouth, leaning forwards as your hand was pressed against your stomach. In-ho moved his other hand to your lap. A gesture speaking the words he couldn’t. Gwenchana? Panting soft, you had to do your very best to swallow hard.

The pain of your wound making itself known once more. – “You should’ve staid inside.” – In-ho whispered to you. – “I tried.” – you responded between pants. – “That gaesaekki came to your quarters.” – making it clear to him that you had been obeying him. That it wasn’t your fault that you were here. In-ho looked over his shoulder at the lion’s mask. The lion’s VIP chuckled raising his glass at the frontman. In-ho turned his head back to the front.

Holding on tight to his arm, you tried to compose yourself. Make yourself numb to the pain to not draw much attention. – “Something off pup?” – you heard from behind you. Clenching your jaw as his taunting started to annoy you to pieces. Straightening your posture once more, you inhaled deeply. Keeping a straight face to not show any emotions. Another player fell to its death as it made you close your eyes. Begging with your mind for it to stop. No more. No more.

“Look at him!” – one of the VIP’s in the back pointed out. Making you open your eyes once more. Gawking in fear at the display. A woman was moving around frantically when another player behind her had wrapped his legs around her. Deliberately wanting her to fall to her dead. The woman screamed it out, telling him to stop or for someone to help her.

A player stepped forwards to the pink suits. Gi-hun. He started shouting at the pink suits, gesturing at the scenery on the monkey bars. Knowing Gi-hun he was probably telling them this was wrong. That it wasn’t allowed or so. The pink suits did nothing. A circle pink suit stepped forwards, giving Gi-hun a shove against his shoulder. Forcing him back. Gi-hun stumbled back, caught by Dae-ho and Hyun-ju.

“Please stop this.” – you begged In-ho once more, barely a whisper. In-ho lowered his head giving you a straight answer. He couldn’t. The woman couldn’t hold herself up any longer, hands slipping off. The player behind her getting pulled with her as he hadn’t removed his legs quick enough from her. The force of her dropping making him lose his grip. Cries fading out into the darkness. Their bodies having dropped with a thud on the hard floor. You imagined it was pooling with blood already.

Pink suits bringing in caskets to clear the bodies. You sucked in a breath when Dae-ho stepped up to the monkey bars. Wiping his hands dry against his sweatpants. Setting his hands around the red bar. Taking a deep breath before lifting himself up. Releasing one hand to grab for the next bar. Another and another one. Reaching another sequence of colour as he needed to take a turn to reach for the yellow bars. Dae-ho swung his legs back and forth.

Moving your hands up to your eyes, you were afraid to look. Peeking between your fingers for you also couldn’t look away. He let go of the bar, reaching to the right with his left hand. Hand gripping tightly around the bar. Making his right hand join quickly. Exhaling relieved you fell back in the sofa. Hand pressed on your chest, feeling the intensity of your heart beating.

Another player followed his track making way for the yellow bars as Dae-ho was almost up to the blue bars. Each set of colour marking another sequence. Several players were on the playground now. Each somewhere different trying to make it across. Your eyes widened briefly when another player got himself ready. Nam-gyu. Looking with rage back at him.

He lifted himself up, going from bar to bar. Another player wanted to go as he suddenly got shoved back. Hyun-ju taking his place. Grabbing for the bars quickly. Effortlessly she went from bar to bar. Huffing and puffing as if time was on her tail. – “What are you doing Hyun-ju.” – you whispered to yourself. She only moved like this if she had something on her mind. You saw her catching up to Nam-gyu. Shouting loud his way.

Nam-gyu paused, looking briefly over his shoulder. Hyun-ju swung her legs back and forth. Nam-gyu’s eyes widening when her legs pulled up. His grip faltering from the shove. Feet kicking him hard in the back as the impact brought him to his end. With flaying hands and kicking feet he dropped down. – “Yes!” – you called out, jumping up from excitement. Hyun-ju having taken revenge on him for being the cause of your end. In-ho quirked his eyebrow up behind his mask.

You swallowed nervously, turning around to bow at the VIP’s for the discomfort. Quietly you set yourself back. Hands pressed between your legs to dim whatever came over you. Swirled up in the sports that you kind of felt ashamed of yourself. Some VIP’s found it hilarious, laughing loud. You took In-ho’s gloved hand once more, hiding it between the two of you.

“Mianhae.” – you whispered to him, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Your idiotic jump made the pain in your side vivid again. Making you press a hand to it. Hoping you hadn’t ripped one of your stitches. Hyun-ju was already moving towards the next set of coloured bars as your eyes had lost sight of Dae-ho. Searching around frantically. Exhaling relieved when you saw him jump onto the end platform. Joining the few survivors that had reached the end.

The players needing to play thinning out. You were surprised when Myung-gi had tied his vest around Jun-hee. Gaem-ja helped him as Jun-hee had jumped onto his back. Helping him secure the sleeves from his vest around his waist with her in between. It made you blink surprised that Myung-gi dared to tackle the monkey bars with Jun-hee on his back.

That was some bravery. It made you glance to your side at In-ho. Wondering if you were still in the games with him if he would’ve done the same. You didn’t dare to look when they started the game. Geum-ja and Yong-sik behind them. Only a few players left on the standing platform as Gi-hun stepped up. The stress made you squeeze In-ho’s hand with worry. He stretched his fingers out, closing them again to have a better grip on your hand.

Gi-hun grabbed for the bars, lifting himself up. Going from bar to bar. If he kept up the pace, he would stand a great chance. If he hesitated it could be fatal for the strength enduring in his arms. He needed to keep a steady pace just like Dae-ho and Hyun-ju had done. Gi-hun reached the next set of coloured bars. Cheeks trembling with focus as he reached for the next bar.

His eyes widening when seeing another player somewhere in front of him drop. Fall to their death. Swallowed whole by the emptiness of nothingness. – “Come on Gi-hun.” – you whispered out, clenching your hand. Urging him to make it to the end. Needing him to make it to the end. Gi-hun was reaching the middle, already sweating from the intensity. He reached for the next bar, grabbing it firm. Hearing a scream somewhere behind him. Another fall.

Cheeks trembling, he shuddered out breath. Feeling his palms get sweaty. Looking up, he saw his knuckles had turned red from the firm grip. He called it out when one hand slipped. Feet dangling in the air. You gasped loud closing your eyes. In-ho’s grip tightening on you. Gi-hun was dangling with one hand still on the bar. Looking frantically up that if he didn’t grab the bar soon he’d soon fall too. Calling it out at the long fall below him.

Clenching his jaw, he pulled himself a bit up, reaching his hand out for the bar. Fingers brushing against the bar as his hand fell back down. The impact weighing him down. Shaking your head, you couldn’t watch. Burying your face in In-ho’s shoulder. He tried to reach for it again, his hand on the bar for only a moment before it slipped back down. Squeezing your eyes shut against In-ho’s shoulder, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please stop it… please…” – you begged wanting to do anything to keep them save. Gi-hun was panting loud. Knowing with each failure he wore himself down. His gaze locked on his friends at the other side. Geum-ja and Yong-sik just reaching the end. They were shouting, telling him to grab the bar or they would personally give him a kick against the ass.

Gi-hun lifted his body up once more with a lot of effort. Throwing his hand up to the bar. Clasping around it as he immediately moved his other hand to the next bar. Letting go of the hand that was behind to grab for the next one. Finding a steady pace once more as he grabbed for bar to bar.

You felt a hand draw down your cheek, making you lift your head up. Cheeks stained with tears as your gaze met up with In-ho’s mask. In-ho took your chin, gently turning your head to the side. Blinking the remaining tears away, you gasped in wonder at Gi-hun finishing up the monkey bars. More tears streamed down your face from relieve.

Sitting weakly in the sofa for all the adrenaline was leaving your body. You didn’t care for the remaining players that still were tackling the bars for your friends were save. They had made it across. The timer two minutes away. When the timer ended on zero, approached some pink suits. Readying their weapons to shoot the three that were still dangling on the monkey bars. Bullets firing as their grip faltered. Dropping to their end.

Slowly the players disappeared through the doors as you felt like riding a rollercoaster. Feeling everything at once. In-ho got up as you did as well. Clearing the way for you. The buffalo VIP came blocking his path. – “Excellent game frontman.” – he congratulated. The frontman moved wanting to surpass him with you, but the buffalo masked man followed his step.

“May I congratulate you with a glass of champagne?” - he asked. – “No.” – the frontman responded, stepping aside. – “You aren’t leaving yet are you? The party isn’t over yet.” – the pig masked VIP called out, chuckling with snorts The frontman knew his duties. He turned round to you. – “I know the way.” – you responded knowing what he was going to ask. He nodded allowing you to leave. Keeping his eye on you till you were out of his sight.

A masked VIP threw his arm around him, pulling him close with a bottle of champagne in his hand. The frontman sighed bothered that he had to endure this torment. Rather wanting to be with you. You walked down the empty corridor making your way back to his quarters. Hurrying inside and shutting the door behind you. Exhaling long with your back pressed against the door.

Inhaling sharp through your teeth, you looked down at your stomach. Lifting your shirt up to see that your bandage had become red again. Going further into his quarters you took out the first aid kid he had left around. Coming to sit down, you took your shirt off. Slowly rolling the old bandage off. Wincing in pain as you slowly removed the cloth from against your wound. Air getting to your wound.

Panting loud, you reached for the cleaner. Readying it near your wound as your chest was moving with quick pants. Knowing what was to come. Moving it closer to your wound till you pulled your hand back up. Looking around for something to deafen out your cries. Finding something hard to clench between your teeth. Quick breaths as you readied your hand back down.

The first touch of wetness on your wound made you cry it out in pain. Back arching, feet stretching out. Glad for the object between your teeth or you would’ve broken your teeth from clenching too hard. You almost didn’t dare but you knew you needed to disinfect the wound again. Shaking your head in protest as your mind didn’t want to do it. Knowing what pain came along with it.

“Y/n!” – you suddenly heard, making you turn your head. The Frontman standing by the door. Quickly shutting the door behind him as he hurried over to you. Dismissing himself from his mask. Coming to kneel down in front of you. – “You should’ve waited for me.” – he made clear moving a hand to your knee.

You panted out a smile. In-ho took the wipe from you with disinfectant. – “Allow me.” – he said, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder. – “Don’t hold in.” – he finished making you nod shakingly. The moment the disinfectant touched your wound, you called it out in pain. Gripping your fingers deep into his skin. Forcing them down as you knew you were hurting him, but the pain was too much.

In-ho cleaned up your wound as you had gone limp from the pain. Panting out loud with sweat as he wrapped the bandage around you. – “You need to be careful Y/n. You are still recovering.” – he warned you with a scowl. Needing you to listen to him. You hummed softly letting your hand drop from his shoulder. In-ho took your shirt, helping you put it back on.

“I’m sorry you had to endure that.” – he spoke after some silence, pushing himself up. – “Please don’t make me watch another game like that.” – you breathed out. – “I promise.” – he spoke touching the back of your head as he left a tender kiss on your forehead. – “Please In-ho… get our friends out.” – you begged him once more. – “It’s not that simple Y/n.” – he reminded you.

“Can’t you get them out like you had with me?” – you hoped their would be a way. In-ho exhaled soft, lifting his head up to the ceiling. – “Please Y/n…” – he said. – “Please In-ho.” – you responded lifting his chin down so that he was looking at you. – “There must be a way. Please… I’ll take anything.” – begging him again. In-ho lowered his gaze, looking briefly away. Your gaze fell upon his black mask. As it created an idea in your mind. A dumb one but it was an idea.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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inkwroughtabel · 2 months ago

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"hey. works fairly well to me. it's kitschy, of course. like how certain filters are always used on cities and such. or sepia for an even older tone. but you won't hear me complaining about the neons." it was just a cool look to him through and through. "oh hell. a musical as well? you got anymore secrets to this movie as well?" abel joked in return, though his curiosity was spiking more and more. he would want to watch this after they were done here, that much was for sure. "that explains it. so i'm set up for failure. working with an expert over here who's doing spins and knows movies that fit the atmosphere here and i'm just being myself? seems unfair," he joked in return. "you're not lying on that traffic comment."

“ or maybe that’s just how modern cinema likes that fake neon lighting to convey the eighties too? You know how one aspect of a time period because the go to look “ Ruby explained. She was a fan of aesthetics; very specific ones to be exact but even she knew there were more than just a few looks. Like how others comment on how the eighties was actually quite brown and not that vibrant. “ it’s a musical too. Did i mention that? It has the guy from little shop of horrors in it. Rick moranis? “ she added piecing together the movie on her head. She loved it when she saw it but she wanted to remember it again to give it a watch. “ I have my own at home. It just sort of need to get used to these ones. But I skate all the time. The traffic situation sucks in this town” she joked @inkwroughtabel

#ruby:001

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thesimline · 2 years ago

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As hairstyles became more elaborate in the 1400s as did the head wear. The once demure crispinettes of the 1300s started to grow in size and travel higher up over the ears, until eventually morphing into the ostentatious hennins and escoffions we typically associate with women's medieval head wear. CC links under the cut.

You can find more of my historical content here:

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s ✺ 1800s

1 - Queen's Crown by Historical Sims Life

2 - Lucrezia by Tekri

3 - Plazasims Anna Henrietta Crown Recolour by Elfdor

4 - Eilonwy by Tekri

5 - Athena Hair by Naunakht | Pearl Tiara by Mythical Sims

6 - Matilda Braids by Sychik | Maiden Wreath by Simverses

7 - Sweet Eclair Hair by Pea Milk

8 - Hijab by Candy Sims

9 - Chantry Headwear by Satterlly

10 - Janick Hair by Daylife Sims | Crispinette Headdress by Simverses | Flight Attendant Scarf by Glitterberry Sims

11 - Wawa Clam Hennin with Veil by Simverses

12 - Medieval Veil by Wiccandove

13 - Wawa Clam Hennin by Simverses

14 - Hennin by Sims From The Past

15 - Medieval Double Horned Hennin by Simverses

16 - Mirialan Headpiece Medievalized by Simverses

17 - Headwrap 001 by aanhamdan93

18 - Big Headwrap by Frenchie Sim Girl

19 - Ye Medieval Isabetta Hairstyle by Leah Lillith (TSR)

20 - Leonarda Hair by Melancholy Maiden

21 - Queen's Net Hair by Simverses

22 - Magnolia Hair by Okruee

23 - Pearls Set by Daylife Sims

24 - Amelot Hairstyle and Accessory by Aurum Musik (TSR)

25 - Ruby Dangle Earrings by Glitterberry Sims

26 - Pearl Drop Earrings by Revolution Sims

27 - Ye Medieval Pearly Ruby Earrings by Feyona (TSR)

28 - Queen's Elegant Necklace by Simverses

29 - Layerble Necklace by Rusty (Curseforge)

30 - Lady In Waiting Necklace by Glitterberryfly (TSR)

With thanks to some amazing creators: @historicalsimslife @tekri @elfdor @sychik @simverses @candysims4 @satterlly @wiccandove @simsfromthepast @aanhamdan93 @okruee

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frost-queen · 20 days ago

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🅾🅿🅴🆁🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽 🆂🆀🆄🅰🆁🅴 // part 15 (Reader x Young-il / player 001)

Summary: Suited up, In-ho and you move further into the web of pink suits. Needing to keep a low profile to not be discovered. When you meet up with one of your friends, you hope to deliver a subtle but meaningful message. [series]

You blinked surprised when you received the gun in your hand. – “You… you can’t be serious right?” – you said, looking up to the square mask. – “I can’t shoot.” – you shout-whispered back to him. In-ho exhaled deep. – “I know, pray you may never need to use it, but it’s for your own protection, Y/n.” – he answered. You stared down at the gun in your hand like it was a ticking bomb. In-ho moved his own gun to his back. Coming to stand behind you. Forcing your arms up with the gun in it.

“Keep your grip steady.” – he said tapping his palm under your hand. – “Pull this to make your weapon lethal.” – he pointed out. He pulled the handle back as you heard the gun click. – “Then all you got to do is point and pull the trigger.” – he whispered at you. You nodded with a pant. In-ho pulled the handle again at less lethal. His grip faltered from you, stepping away. He moved to the stairs as you hurried after him. Touching him by his shoulder. He slowly turned around to you. – “Thank you In-ho.” – you said to him. In-ho nodded once at you.

He wanted to move on when you pulled him back at you. – “What… what if… I mean.. if anything… how will I know it is you?” – you questioned with a swallow. Knowing you were going into the lion’s den. Where you could easily be lost in a crowd of triangles and squares. In-ho looked briefly away before returning his gaze. Bringing his mask closer up to yours. Head leaning over your shoulder to reach your ears.

“I’ll be the only one that touches you.” – he spoke making you swallow hard. Moving your head a bit to the side, the two masks stared back at each other. Wondering what the expression hidden meant. – “And how will you know it is me?” – you replied, hiding a bit of jealousy. Already imagining In-ho touching random pink suits in the loss of chaos to search for you. It made you shudder that he would lose sight of you. The mask kept staring back at you, hinting he might be smirking underneath it.

“I’ve marked you.” – he whispered at you. Surprised you started to move your head around, trying to get a glimpse of your back. Wondering if he had marked you there. A deep chuckle coming from him, made you glare back at him from underneath the mask. Walking up to him, you moved a hand behind him to match his attitude. Wanting to catch him off surprise. You heard him gasp out a breath when you squeezed his behind.

“Maybe I’ll mark you.” – you responded. Caught off guard he surely was. Surprised by your sudden frisky behaviour. In response he grabbed you firm by your mask. Forcing you to look up at him. – “Careful Y/n or I might have to strip this suit of you.” – his voice deep and husky. He moved a bit forwards allowing his mask to touch yours. Swallowing bashful underneath the mask, you slightly shoved him off you. Needing a bit of a breather before you would faint.

In-ho straightened his posture. Getting all serious once more. It was clear in his attitude. A shift you could clearly see in him when he was acting a part. The game’s act. He nodded once at you. You nodded back, following in line with him. Pink suits roaming the colourful hallways back upstairs. Square up first, followed by a triangle. Going under archways and up the stairs. Classical music getting louder and louder with each step closer.

Reaching the maze of staircases, you needed to swallow hard. It felt different walking them with a pink suit. As if the suit carried authority. No longer feeling like a sheep, but a wolf amongst wolves. In-ho kept his pace steady and vast. Barely giving you a glance over his shoulder. Just knowing you were following him. Heavy step after heavy step, you moved away from the maze. Turning to head towards the sleeping quarters.

Taking a deep breath, you were sure how to tackle this. You couldn’t simply run up to them and tell them you are alive. You needed to be tactical and most of all. Keep your composure at the sight of them. For pink suits weren’t weak. You gasped soft when In-ho had turned himself around to you. No need for words as you already knew what he was getting at. Will you stay calm?

You nodded back to reassure him you weren’t going to do something hasteful. In-ho and you approached the narrowed hallway that led to the entrance. Other pink suits already waiting. The two of you carefully slipped amongst the crowd. Feeling a soft tug on your suit by your thigh, it prevented you from venturing to far. Taking a step back to the side, you remained close. The doors opened as pink suits began to walk out. Game on. Straightening your posture you followed them. Keeping up with their beat. You felt a slight nudge against your hip before the group disformed.

Remembering the shape on your mask, you snapped yourself out of it. Following the triangle suits before you could be exposed as a rookie. In-ho no longer at your side as he went with the square suits. Lines up at both sides, guns in their hands. You came standing behind a table. Water bottles standing in front of you.

Before the voice through the speaker announced they needed to line up for diner, most of the players were already forming a line. Having been going through it a couple of times now. Already knowing the drill. You waited till you were allowed to hand them out. Keeping a steady pace, whilst looking around for those you were looking for.

Hoping one or at least a few would be lining up at your line. The line moved forwards at the rate you were handing out water. In your head you were slightly panicking to what you would do to get their reaction. It wasn’t good for it to be obvious. That would blow your cover, but you still wanted it to be an impact.

Glancing to your side, you saw Unnie and Dae-ho lining up in the line beside yours. Pressing your lips together, you withheld yourself to call at them. Eyes getting teary at the sight of them. They looked worn out and exhausted. Taking another bottle, you handed it to a girl. She moved passed as your eyes widened.

Gi-hun stepping up to you. He held his hand out. Gaze downwards. Dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep. Barely any sign of energy left in him. He might as well be dying and he wouldn’t even notice it. You took a bottle making sure to be able to make your mark. Gi-hun accepted it, ready to leave when he furrowed his brows.

Looking questionable up to the pink suit that had their fingers on his for longer than normally. You slipped your fingers back. Gi-hun kept staring at you, water bottle in his hand. Confused as to what had occurred.

Wondering why a pink suit was making it obvious to touch his hand longer than appropriated. Normally he didn’t touch the pink suit’s hands or when it was, only for a few seconds as they always pulled away so quickly. You waved your gloved hand at him to get a move on. Keeping up your appearance. Another player pushed Gi-hun a bit aside by his shoulder. Blinking confused, he turned around, scratching the back of his head. Underneath your mask, you closed your eyes briefly. Oh Gi-hun understand the message. You thought

Gi-hun joined the others onto the platform. His gaze at the water bottle in his hand. Unable to look away from it. Wondering if the lingering touch meant something. – “Gi-hun? Everything alright?” – Dae-ho asked nudging him in the side. It made him blink surprised, slowly lifting his head up to Dae-ho, coming out of a trance.

He hummed loud before letting his gaze go back to the pink suit that had served him. – “Gi-hun?” – Jun-hee asked tapping him gently on his knee. Gi-hun hummed again, turning his head. Seeing how all his friends were staring confused at him. – “Oh… oh yes… I just had a strange feeling… it must be nothing…” – he responded.

Easing his friends. Moving his gaze back to the pink suits, he watched as they rolled the trolley’s back. Empty now. You returned to the platform, waiting there. Moving your gun to the front. Trying to steady your shaking hands at the hold of the weapon.

Forced to follow along, you couldn’t look around for In-ho. Begging under your breath for him to be close. You needed him to give you some comfort. Swallowing hard, you supressed a clearance of your throat. Getting aware of the tingling feeling in your side once more. The pain settling there once more. You hadn’t been given your body a proper rest ever since getting shot.

Glancing from side to side, a tarrying feeling washed over you. What if your shooter was standing next to you. Hands getting clammy at the thought. Heart beating faster as you felt yourself heat up in the suit. Closing your eyes, you tried to tell yourself to not panic right now. Now was not the place nor time. Taking steady breaths, you tried to focus on other things.

“Lights go out in 30 minutes.” – the voice came through the speakers, making you nearly sigh relieved. The pink suits remained for a few more minutes, before taking their leave. Disappearing to their stationed positions. Some leaving through the big doors, others, going for the two doors at the sides.

You followed your triangle suits to the left door. Guarding there. You disappeared through the door, with one last glance over your shoulder. No square suit following. Lowering your gaze, you closed the door behind you. Coming to stand against the door, opposite from another triangle suit. Guarding the door that led up to the bathrooms.

Trying to stop your lip from quivering for you were alone. No one to guard you. A lost one in the midst of a dangerous game you had little clue of. Weapon in hand, pressed against your chest, you held onto as a promise. Back in the quarters, the players were heading for their beds. Gi-hun still focused on something.

Dae-ho nudged him to head for his bed. He didn’t move, still staring back at the door some pink suits had disappeared through. – “Gi-hun.” - Hyun-ju said pulling him up by his shoulders. – “Gi-hun get it together, we need you.” – she spoke with a desperate matter as she didn’t want to lose another friend to despair.

It was already bad enough that everyone around her seemed to be giving up. Gi-hun turned his head back at her. - “There is something about that triangle pink suit.” – he told her. Hinting at the one guarding the door from the inside. Hyun-ju patted him on the back, leading him to his bed.

The lights went out. Leaving a darkness into the sleeping quarters. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed on tighter to the weapon. Knowing tomorrow’s game might be your one and only shot. Unsure if you will find In-ho amongst the suits for you sure needed his help.

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