#snu is so sad
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Writing my own Wind fics because I’ve read every fic under the Wind Tag is another type of pain—I haven’t written a fic in over four years please save me from myself.

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reuniting with seong gihun



notes minors dni contains fem aged up reader (same age is gihun), always written with plus size reader in mind as i am myself but truly anyone can read, takes place in the midst of his pursuit of finding the salesman, ANGST (self deprecation, selfishness, mentions of hardships, death, failed relationships, suppressed emotions, mentions of infertility, includes arguments; this does not have a happy ending), dynamic between reader and gihun is childhood friends who reconnect in later adulthood, some made up lore to build said dynamic, mentions of nightmares, violence, smoking, sickness, slow burn maybe? i'm trying something new, and smut (mutual masturbation) after trusting someone for the first time in a long time mends part of his soul, but for how long, and at what cost?
requested? no, this is an original idea! i can't be normal about anything and how underrated he is in his own show is diabolical. anyway this one is long. please request something if you'd like or stop by the ask box or dms to say hello! i love a man with big brown eyes whose real good at looking sad. enjoy!
you always looked forward to every other saturday because it meant you had the day off. you took this time to sleep in before heading to nearby markets for your weekly grocery run. it was right after lunch time that you were perusing coriander so fresh you could still see water droplets on its leaves. just before you were to ask the older woman who ran the stand for the price, a familiar face swept past your peripheral vision.
you looked over your shoulder, seeing a man dressed in an unzipped jacket and talking rather quickly into his phone. he looked around the street corner like he was lost, a passing car letting you hear only fragments of what he was saying: "—station? which one?" you were about to return to your business when he faced in the direction of your gaze entirely. you hadn't seen that face in years . . .
he hung up the call, now typing with fervour. without thinking, you started walking: "gihun? seong gihun?" your voice was soft, approaching him with an air of caution you couldn't explain. he looked up, face tense with something beyond stress. "yes?" "it's me." you said your name. "we—we went to grade school together? my ... my parents owned a shop just down the street from your mother's." why did every syllable feel more embarrassing than the last, and why did your voice get quieter with every word? you were certain that you were looking at the gihun you grew up with—who could forget those distinctly emotive brown eyes, or those ears that stuck out and were made fodder for incessant teasing from your classmates? but gihun's expression didn't move an inch, his eyebrows knitted together in the slightest of confusion. but it was merely momentary, because when you were uttering apologies, his eyes widened with belated realization. "yes," he thought aloud, his tone was still oddly serious. "i taught you how to tie your shoes."
your expression blossomed into utter elation, lips separated in shock. he so casually swept the dust off of a shelf of memories you forgot even existed, making you mentally regress to that afternoon during p.e. who knows how many years ago. "y-yes!" you nodded. "i wore velcro shoes until i was eleven!" another memory came to the forefront: "we used to trade cassettes during lunch! we argued so much over the british ones. who was it again? david bowie and—" "—duran duran." said gihun. "duran duran!" you repeated, beaming. "oh my ... when was the last time i listened to them." you pondered aloud.
warmth crept onto your cheeks, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth: "i remember you and sangwoo styling your hair like theirs." a breath left his lips, chest tightening, his eyes betraying him as they quivered in abrupt grief. "you wore so much hair gel it blinded me in study hall. i wonder where sangwoo is now. i haven't heard much since he graduated from snu. are you still friends today?"
your question was objectively harmless. there was absolutely no way for you to have the faintest clue of the atrocities gihun's been forced to witness; the painful guilt he carries; the nightmares that carve the abysses underneath his eyes; the debilitating anxiety that fills his head with endless noise even in the eerie quiet of his deserted motel. he nods, forcing a tight, small grin. "we did stay friends." he says bravely, his eyes looking more familiar than ever.
the genuine smile you give in return was added to his self-anointed list of reasons why, at the end of his life, he would not die a peaceful death. it was another thing he would laboriously mewl over in the afterlife, looking up at the rest of the world, shackled to the deepest, darkest pits of eternal regret.
"that's good to hear." you say. "how're you doing, hm? you've cleaned up well from when we were in our twenties." you quipped playfully. through the scattered shells of his soul littered throughout his body, his innocent self was still somewhere in there, because he subconsciously looked for an out to ease his internal tension, letting out a chuckle at your remark. those vibrations in his chest felt foreign after these past two years, but that murky remnant of his past self welcomed the change, no matter how minute it was. "i've been better." he responded.
"yeah?" you asked. "if it makes you feel better, i'm glad i ran late today. because i got to see an old friend after a long time." gihun glanced at either of your hands—no ring. "have you met anyone?" he asked. you nodded, understanding what he meant. "i did." you say. "he left me when the doctor told us i couldn't carry." your eyes widened, unsure of why you were suddenly so honest. "i don't know why i just—" "i'm so sorry." gihun cut you off. his hardened expression turned shocked, even appalled. you recouped, wanting to look past this: "it's okay." you shake your head, metaphorically dodging the memories of your marriage counselor telling you to not 'to deny your own personal wounds as it'll seep into the companionship.' "it was a long time ago, gihun. how about you? did you meet someone?" he nodded, sympathy glistening across his retinas. "we separated shortly after our daughter was born."
"seong gihun, a father?" you grinned. "anything's possible." the ringing of his phone diverted both his and yours attention away. "i'm sorry for keeping you. you looked like you were in the middle of something—" "no, no. it's fine," gihun shook his head. "here, give me your number. i'll call you." he didn't know why he did it. he failed to stop himself declining the phone call from the loan shark he hired to head the search for the salesman, let alone handing you his phone to type your number in. was the impulsiveness of his past self also crystallized, emerging at this very moment? his discreet vow to blend into the shadows seemed to have crumbled in these past five minutes, giving in to his complex feelings: your sweet demeanor made him feel like a normal human being, and he wanted more of it. for the first time in a long time, seeing someone from his past didn't end in complete anguish. or perhaps it was the gleam of sadness that washed over your eyes as you spoke of your ex-husband, inflating his subconscious savior complex. even so, after you exchanged polite goodbyes, walking off in different directions, he mentally kicked himself for compromising your safety concurrent with unabashed intention of calling you that very evening. through any stage of his life, through the gambling and the scheming, it seemed selfishness remained his kryptonite.
for you, it was a hell of a lot to take in. at some point, it felt as if a prank was being played on you. it was one thing to offer sincere condolences for his late mother, or be sorry that his daughter lived so far away. but ... children's games that ended in murder? masked guards with triangles, circles, and squares hiding their faces? a handsome, well-groomed man that tenderized his face over a game of ddakji, in the middle of a train station? sure, you would miss a lot of someone's life after not seeing them for nearly three decades. but ... but this? it was properly outlandish. crazy, even. but over that hushed dinner, sat in a corner booth, the scent of sizzling samgyeopsal on the grill increasingly nauseating, it was too detailed to be a lie. he pleaded nonverbally for you to believe him—through the desperate glossiness of his eyes. you affirmed your belief in the same wordless manner, visibly nodding. you almost threw up when he handed you a business card, the three aforementioned shapes on one side, a random assortment of numbers on the back.
gihun brought you to his motel that same night, barren and lifeless besides white noise of the warm-toned, aged ambient lighting on the first floor and the tinkering of various ceiling fans with rusted hinges. you took in the six monitors mounted on the wall in front of his bed, equipped with live block-to-block security camera footage of his immediate surroundings, the metro transit map tabbed meticulously, and the calendar with past dates crossed out in thick red marker, pages of months previous mixed with takeout containers lodged in the corner trash bin. you quietly followed him upstairs, seeing his hidden stash of weaponry as he explained his recruitment of underground crime groups he's known since his gambling days. you didn't utter a word, not even when you lastly saw the mountain of cash stacked on a random bed in a random room. it stared at you as you did it—blankly.
he broke the silence. "this is where i've been these last three years." he said. he turned to look at you. "i ... i understand that it's a lot." his voice grew quieter. he swallowed, feeling shame brewing in his chest. "i just—i just felt like telling you. i don't know why. i understand if you don't want to know me—" "—i want to help." you said. his eyes widened. "what?" "i want to help you, gihun." you looked at him. he was bewildered. he shook his head, dumbfounded. "no, i think you misunderstood—" "—i did?" you cut him off. "you brought me here because i believe your story, didn't you? what did you expect then, exactly? for me to take my conviction away, like you say those masked soldiers did to those people who didn't stand still enough, or broke their dalgona? you tell me all of these crazy stories, your pain is so visceral that it makes me nauseous with guilt, and you want me to walk away? huh? what is it, then? what did you want!?" you hadn't anticipated your voice to rise, but were yelling by the end, your irritation stuffing the room.
he took your verbal berating silently, avoiding eye contact and shoulders lowering. "i don't ..." his voice trailed. "i don't want you to get hurt." "you gave up the right to protect me when you gave the impression sangwoo was still alive." you spoke firmly, voice now leveled. a breath of defeat slipped through his teeth. "you should've never called me." you said. "you should've done what everyone does: offer to get lunch to be polite, but never actually do anything. you shouldn't've called. i shouldn't've answered. i shouldn't've have shown up tonight, and i should've walked away the moment you started talking. you've given me no choice but to stay."
the silence was deafening. he looked up upon hearing the skid of your shoes against the floor, coming face to face with your softened expression. it was strangely disarming, feeling goosebumps travel up his spine."you were rid of me for thirty years. it's only right we make up for lost time." you said. his gaze didn't falter. it was his turn to affirm his belief of your wordless plea. he nodded, "okay."
you stopped by the motel in the early morning before work, listening to him comb through whatever new strategy he was going to run by his men that day ("what do you think? does this sound efficient?") and in exchange for making you miss your train, he drove you to work before parking at his usual spot. his guilt of bringing you into all of this felt stronger some days than others, showing in your not hearing from him for a couple days at a time. until you squashed that like a bug, dialing him in the middle of your lunch break: "... hello?" "why haven't you called me?" "i ... i've been busy." "you don't have time for a one minute phone call? thirty seconds?" "no, no. that's not what i meant—" "—i'm coming to the motel tonight."
and like clockwork, at nine pm, you showed up on the security camera. his phone vibrated: I am outside. when he unlocked the door, you walked past him without uttering a word, b-lining to his room. he did not immediately follow, purposefully hovering at the entrance after locking it back up securely. he walked with a lowered head, peering into the doorway some moments later. he was taken aback by the sight of you unloading your tote bag, nose tickled with the scent of freshly brewed stew, steaming rice, and side dishes. "i've brought tupperware. you're not eating takeout anymore." you don't look at him, hanging your bag on the back of a chair after fishing out utensils, sitting down with a small huff.
you looked at him. "are you not joining me?" gihun walked into the room, but fell short of sitting down at the table. "how long ... how long have you been cooking?" he felt stupid for asking the question, but the gesture left his mind blank. he felt atomically undeserving. "i got off work early." you responded curtly, plating your food. gihun didn't say anything, making you look up at him again. "it's going to get cold, gihun." your softened tone gave you what you wanted, watching him sit down across from you with muted satisfaction. you ate together in silence, nothing but the gentle clattering of plates and a quiet "thank you" when passing dishes rivaling the white noise of the air conditioning.
"from now on," you started, bringing your bowl to your lips, finishing off the last of your serving of stew. "you will update me everyday. i will bring food for us. if you forget about me, i will haunt you in the afterlife." "understood." he muttered, avoiding eye contact, pretending to look for a piece of meat in his stew, ignoring the one showing itself plainly on the left side of his bowl. his bottom lip quivered; he tightened his mouth. his arms started feeling weak; he inhaled sharply through his nose, tapping his foot under the table. but then a ragged breath rattled out of his diaphragm, his shoulders shuddered, and his vision went blurry; he was a goner. he sobbed into his hand. it sounded a lot like a coughing fit, so you initially thought the food hadn't gone down smoothly. but his defeated, muffled mewls into his palm and sunken shoulders said otherwise, sending you to your feet.
gihun instinctually turned towards the feeling of your hand on his shoulder, crying into your stomach. his hands pulled at your jacket, making you stumble, but you caught yourself. "f-forgive me, please. i won't be able to live with myself. i haven't been able live with myself for a long time." you looked down at the top of his head, unsure of what to do. you brushed his hair back with your fingers—not sure if it was crossing a boundary, but it felt wrong to just stand there—he only cried harder, arms wrapping around your waist, holding you so tightly as if you were a lifeline. "you—you make me feel normal." he said, breathing in short gasps. "after all the sins i've committed, you've—you've shown me atonement is possible." he lifts his head, eyes reddened, cheeks wet. the imagery of the moment was almost religious; if you listened closely, a distant artist began hammering at a marble slab. "b-but i'm not deserving of mercy." he shook his head, his hands coming together, visibly pleading. "leave me. i've hurt too many people. i can't hurt you next."
you wiped his tears. "you already hurt me when you didn't call." you said. "you already hurt me when you pretended sangwoo was alive and well." you reminded gihun, his head sinking in shame. your hand traced his jaw, lifting his head to look up at you. "you don't get to hurt me again by acting like you're alone in this." your voice faltered to a whisper. gihun's fingers ghosted over your wrist. "listen to me—" "—no, you listen to me." you cleared your throat. "we met that saturday for a reason. you let me in tonight for a reason. we're sharing a meal for a reason. stop lying to yourself." you said. "i can handle myself. i've been through a lot. i don't know how many sins you've committed, but even the devil gets a second chance. you should know, you've looked down the barrel of his gun."
gihun tsked. "save your prayers, gihun. just let me have the peace of knowing i'm helping a friend." he sucked in a shaky breath, sinking his face into his hands. "what have i done?" he whispered. "no one deserves to be alone as long as we both have." you retort. silence fills the room, making way for the words to settle into his psyche. goosebumps arise along his spine at the return of your fingers brushing his hair back. you take a step forward, his forehead brushing against the same place he wept on seconds before. "the least i could do is stay," you spoke quietly as if someone would overhear, even if you two were alone. "even if it's for a little while." as embarrassing and hypocritical as it felt to him, gihun gradually wrapped his arms around your waist. his touch hovered, however, only for you to pull him in, letting him know it was okay.
he got the message. his eyes closed, a long breath escaping his lips. you would've missed what he said if you weren't listening closely: "please do." he said, voice low, tone weakened. "please stay the night. there's—there's a room close to mine. down the hall." "i will." you assure without hesitation."what're friends for, hm?" you grinned. gihun let go. "i'll go—" he cleared his throat, voice gravely. "i'll go wash my face." he gestured to the bathroom behind you, rising from his seat. you returned to yours, "when you come back, have more food. you look sunken in." "i will." he muttered.
gihun closed the sliding door, inhaling through his nostrils, wiping a rogue tear with his knuckles. before he turned on the water, he looked over his shoulder, peering through the translucent palm tree imprint adorning the bathroom door. he caught a glimpse of you re-plating his food, leaned over the table, carefully pouring more stew; a hefty pile of rice on his plate; the side dishes pushed towards his seat. his bottom lip quivered, quickly looking away and tugging the right knob, the faucet pouring. the water ran and ran, but his eyes were stuck on his reflection in the mirror. he felt nauseated by the sight of his glossy eyes, deepened frown lines, and pathetic expression: worthless, contradictory, complacent.
seeing himself felt revolting. not even a mother could love this face after all i've done. he thought to himself. how would he know? he found his mother lifeless on the floor when he came home, eternally impairing her with the gripping chokehold of disappointment routinely tightened by her deadbeat son throughout the last years of her life. what would she think of her son now, a secluded loner who lives off of blood money, whom watched his best friend die right before his eyes, hired criminals to do his bidding to further involve himself in a fight that feels too big, and on top of all that has looped in an innocent woman into all of this? and for what, comfort? a semblance of peace? gihun splashed his face haphazardly, drying off with a towel hastily. he turned the faucet off, staring at himself again: "own the consequence." he whispered to himself. "it's all your fault."
you stayed at the motel even if it was against your better judgment, such as having work earlier than usual. gihun stirred awake at the rustling outside of his closed and locked door, reaching over and squinting at his phone screen: 5:37 AM. his senses clouded by exhaustion, he didn't realize just how quickly he recognized your footsteps, climbing out of bed without a second thought. his voice startled you, even if it was quiet: "what're you doing up so early?" he asked. "you don't have work for almost three hours." "i go in earlier today," you weren't sure why you were whispering anymore. "and i forgot something at home. i'm sorry for waking you up, gihun. go back to bed." he left the doorway, coming back with his jacket and shoes on, keys in his pocket. "let's go. i'll take you home, then to work." "no!" you protested, shaking your head and waving your hand. "i've caused enough trouble waking you up." "i'm already here," he said, taking your purse and carrying it in his right hand, his left gently ushering you alongside him. "let's go. you'll be late."
you shared cigarettes after dinner, the emptied tupperware long forgotten on the small table some feet away. you blew the smoke out the window, watching it disappear into the night. the click of gihun's lighter caught your attention, gaze lingering whilst he inhaled. you smirked to yourself: "i kicked this habit right before i started trying for a family." you said, bringing the cigarette between your lips. "i guess you're as bad an influence you say to be." you quipped, exhaling. "high school gihun would ask if he looked cool doing it." he muttered, holding his between his lips, putting the lighter back in his pocket. "he would. and i'd tell him he does." you affirmed with a nod, flicking ash into the tray lining the windowsill. "he would also ask for you to not tell his mom, even though he stole those cigarettes from her shop. then, two days later, he'd ask you for one." you chuckled, leaning towards the window and blowing. gihun shook his head, "what an annoying kid." "funny." you corrected him. "you were funny. aware, but also clueless. caring, too."
"i was shameless." he murmured lowly, blowing his smoke. you tsked un-approvingly, "stop being so brooding. now that's annoying." he looked at you as if you detested his entire family lineage, eyes widened in an expression fit for schoolyard bickering. "i'm not being annoying, i'm being real! hey—" he said, pointing his cigarette at you. "you're the one being annoying, just going against whatever i say! you've been doing this so much lately! on wednesday, when i offered to buy dinner because you've been working so late these days, and you said to me 'hey gihun, i have fifteen more years until i'm eligible for elderly welfare. i can cook just fine.' you could've just said either yes or no!" he waved his hand to accentuate his point, continuing: "and last week when you told me five times to stop wearing the same three shirts on rotation, and i told you i have more than that but there's no need because i sit in a car all day, and you said 'you're more dedicated to an outfit than the president is to the oath of office.' where do you even get this stuff?" he questioned, bewildered, pointing his cig to his temple. you nearly drew blood from your lip from attempting to contain your laughter. "and i wasn't stealing from my mom when i was that young! at least be honest about that." hearing him accentuate his vowels in the midst of his frustrated rant—a habit he's seemingly had his entire life—made your face feel warmer than before, a wide smile appearing whilst laughter finally rang out of you; you'd unpack the former later.
"okay, okay." you nodded, your free hand coming to rest on his arm as a way of both giving in and telling him to calm down. "was it my mom you stole from, then?" you joked, unable to hold your laughter at the look on his face. "you can tell me, gihun. i'm sure the statute of limitations is up by now for theft." "you're impossible." he muttered, shaking his head, bringing his cigarette to his lips. "hey. hey," you said, arm traveling up to his bicep, "i'm just kidding. i know you didn't steal." he stayed silent until he couldn't. "jungbae used to take his father's cigarettes. that's what i smoked." "okay, okay. i believe you, no need to be emotional." you said that on purpose, an upside down grin molding your face at his expression, suppressed laughter clouding your lungs. "how am i emotional for just telling the truth! hey, you can't just lay the bait and expect me not to take it!" "are you really this unable to take a joke?" you questioned. "wow, gihun. you take our role as elders more seriously than anyone our age." you remarked with faux indignity, hiding your grin behind your hand, inhaling. "impossible." he muttered to himself, turning away from you to face the window. your hand fell to your side, glancing at his cigarette between his lips before gazing out the window yourself.
silence washed over the room. after a few minutes, you put out your cigarette in the ash tray. you cleared your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. "i know it's hard, but lighten up." you began. "we just had a good meal. our shit will pass smoothly in the morning." gihun turned his head, looking at you with those routinely emotive brown eyes, too capacious for his own good, gaping at you. you thought you knew what he was going to say, but he scoffed, looking back out the window, a hint of a chuckle leaving his diaphragm, a ghost of a smile on his face. "poop jokes? at our age?" he shook his head, inhaling. upon his exhale, he struck gold: "you're so full of shit." both of you turned to each other with widened eyes, an open smile of surprise on your face: "a pun!" you called out, pointing at his chest. "you just said a pun!" "i'm not inept." he said. "of course not." you agreed. "just stubborn." you grinned, hearing him scoff.
"you may not be the seong gihun i remember entirely," you said, watching him extinguish his cigarette. "but you're certainly a seong gihun that'll be hard to forget." your words weigh unexpectedly heavily, suddenly bringing up the inevitable next step when gihun confronts the salesman. it's long been established as you two have talked about it before, albeit more hesitantly these days, even if it didn't start that way. in the beginning, it was treated with zero sugarcoating; basic fact; common sense—he's going back in there and no one can stop him. however, over these last few months, it's not as if the end goal has changed, but its honest, unforgiving nature has become increasingly visceral. it lingers in the air like an unwanted draft, but you're scared shitless to get up to close the window, fearing something bad might happen if you leave your bed. it was overtly irrational, a perfect concoction of contradiction and avoidance; even at your big age. it made you feel sixteen again, narrowly evading your crush in the busy school corridor, but stealing every possible glance during your shared class. wait . . . hold on . . . did you just use the word . . .
"i don't plan on forgetting you." gihun cut your inner monologue off. you were taken aback. his gaze is unrelenting, even if his eyes give away his own surprise at his words. your mouth moved, but no sound followed. your mind was completely and utterly blank. gihun felt it too, considering you always had something to say at any given time. that's how you made your way back into his life; upended his routine; granted him a better sleeping schedule; made a technicolor life seem possible again; filled his aura with something other than regret and disdain. his life felt—even if it was only momentary—not like it was unfolding to the beat of a ticking metronome, but in peaceful silence, like now. there was no room for hurtful memories, intrusively incessant conflicting feelings born out of his festering trauma, or the hefty responsibility to avenge those lost that he attributes to his own faults. there was room for only you. you.
gihun turned away, flustered. he suddenly wished he never put his cigarette out, yearning for the scent of nicotine to distract him from the discomfort he felt now—a feeling he was sure you shared, too. "i'm sorry." he muttered, so quiet it nearly blended in with the noise of the air conditioning kicking in. you stepped forward, locking your arm with his. he turned his head, glancing at you when you laid your temple against his bicep. he feels one of your hands gingerly rub his arm, saying something neither of you had the guts to verbally. his posture was stiff, unsure of what to do, but he didn't think for an iota of a second to step away or nudge you off. he felt something inside him begin to thaw, or maybe it slowly had been this entire time. "tonight is the first time i've heard you laugh since we met again." you spoke. your tone was so hushed it made gihun feel as if you were the last two people on all of earth. you two stood in silence, looking out the same window; listening to the distant cares drive by; the meow of a stray cat; the air conditioning shutting off. too afraid to move his gaze—and frightened by how hot his face felt—gihun slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket, slipping it into yours. it took him a moment to mount the courage to intertwine your fingers, and another to lay his temple against the top of your head.
something shifted after that night. how could it not? your apartment collected dust with how you practically lived at the motel, other than to cook. gihun awoke before you did on days you had work earlier, intentionally setting this alarm no matter the time he fell asleep the night before. you stayed in his car a little longer than usual when he dropped you off, really pushing that five minute grace period you have to clock in on time, even if those extra few minutes were spent in flustered silence or repeatedly glancing at how close your hands were on the center console. every time you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, you hoped it was him; elated if it was indeed his name in your messages, and an eye roll if it was an email or the news. gihun found himself sitting up in his seat when your text came through midday (Going on lunch in 15 min), uncomfortably tugging at the collar of his shirt. he cleared his throat when you sent your usual follow up (Free now), staring at the call button next to your contact name. what am i going to say? he thought to himself, only to realize how ridiculous he sounded. gihun pressed the button hastily, bringing the phone to his ear with an irritated huff. since when did i become sixteen again?
on the evenings where you're running late for dinner, gihun is in your room at the motel, tidying it. he didn't want to face the fact that he lingered in your space because it was precisely that: yours—or in more truthful words, he just really missed you. it was where your energy remained a constant, even through the poorly-lit space and stuffy air. it felt irrational to miss someone he would see in a matter of hours, but he could not help it. he distracted himself with fixing the folded corner of the thin duvet; smoothening a stubborn wrinkle on a pillow case; replacing a faulty lightbulb; cracking the window open just enough if it was particularly humid that day. if you still hadn't arrived afterward, gihun sat on the edge of your finely made bed, waiting idly. he sped down the hall upon reading I'm outside, hushing your flurry of apologies with a gentle "it's okay. i only just came home, too."
gihun was no stranger to nightmares. he had them often, tossing and turning in bed, waking up in a cold sweat or with a prolonged headache that followed him into the day. over time, he got better at lulling himself back to sleep, harnessing the mantra of it's not real as best he could. but one night . . . it was too tangible, tactile, even. filled with villains of his past, ghosts of mistakes, ominous reminders of the uncertain future. he knew he was in a dream, but his subconscious was at war with his conscious efforts to wake up—throwing him in a very frightening limbo. he awoke with a sharp gasp, his body riddled with sweat and coughing abhorrently, throat heinously dry. this was the most severe dream he's had in a while. gihun tried to ground himself by whatever means his mangled mind could think of: steadying his breath, feeling the fraying blanket with his fingertips, trying to remember that mantra ... but his senses felt electrified, the visceral fear of the nightmare still fresh.
his eyes shot open when he heard a knock at his door. he stilled, unsure whether he'd imagined it. some of his rationale had returned, but not entirely, because when there was another knock, he quickly got out of bed, grabbing the gun on his nightside table. that dream really must have done a number on him, because he didn't look at his monitors and moved based on assumption—halting upon hearing "gihun?" your voice laced with concern yet gentle, ear pressed against the door. you knocked again. "gihun? are you awake?" you asked. "is everything okay in there?" his shoulders sunk in relief. have i lost my mind? he thought to himself. he put the gun back, momentarily deferring his disgust over his rash actions, cracking open the door.
he swallowed, hiding his grimace at his still aching throat with a quick swipe of his forehead. "good evening." he said rather monotone, trying to mask as light-spirited but executing it meekly. "i'm okay. i had a bad dream." "i heard you—" you gestured down the hall. "i heard you from my room, gihun. you sounded like you were in pain. i was worried that, that—" "—i'm fine." he nodded, trying to assure you. before you rebutted, he asked "what time is it?" whilst rubbing his eyes. "two in the morning." you answered hurriedly. "look, gihun. you're drenched in sweat and you're breathing so hard. i know this wasn't some ordinary dream." you say. "was it ... was it about them? the men in masks, the games?" gihun's hesitant pause was your answer. "i'm okay." he said again. "i'm sorry for waking you up. go back to bed." you tsked. "still so stubborn, even when he's sleepy." you eyed him, seeing his glistening face. "okay," you gave in. "i'm down the hall if you need me." a pause. "you're not alone in this." you reminded him, walking away and returning to your room. his gaze lingered in your general direction for a moment before closing his door.
he tried to fall asleep, but found himself stuck, only able to stare at the ceiling. gihun's mind ran a million miles an hour, feeling short of breath if he focused on that for more than ten seconds. he looked at his phone for the fifth time in three minutes: 2:47 AM. sleep felt nowhere in sight. his sweat had mostly subsided, heartbeat leveled, but his mind remained riddled. if he closed his eyes, they would open right back up. your proposition played in his head like a broken record, but like anyone his age, his pride stood in the way. it's not only that he didn't want to seem weak or have an insecure grip on self-sufficiency, but also seeking comfort still felt foreign to him. it was another symptom of circumstance, both of the past three years and the last four months. gihun felt undeserving, foolish for pursuing such a thing when he's so close to throwing himself back into a world running on nothing but adrenaline and fear.
gihun laid on his left side with a stern huff, closing his eyes, trying so desperately to feel that lilting tug of sleep, even if he had to pretend. he did all of this to protect you and himself. to protect the inevitable, to crystallize his oath of taking down those bastards once and for all. but when he looked at his phone, seeing it was now 3:16 AM, he suddenly felt thirty-five again: coming home horrendously late after another taxing day at the factory, muscles weak and his will even more so. his wife wasn't home, having been at her relative's house the past few days after an argument they had. he laid atop the bed the best his sore muscles allowed; he hadn't enough strength to shower or even feed himself. he got up less than four hours later, freshening up as best he could in an eerily silent house, ignoring the grumble of his stomach as he boarded the public bus.
it was one of his loneliest moments. he didn't know why he thought of that specifically, considering the divorce, custody battle, and moving back in with his mother was a different low point entirely. his eyes opened to the darkness. the silence felt similar, the shame even more so . . . gihun got up, taking his pillow and blanket with him. he knocked twice, pressing his ear against the door, only for it to creak open. it must have been left open. he stepped inside, closing and locking it behind him. the layout of your room was the same as his, so he had no problem navigating the dark room. he quickly laid his pillow on the floor next to your bed, closing his eyes after unfolding his blanket. you were awake, overhearing his shuffling into the room. "gihun?" he gasped: "you scared me." he whispered back, hand on his chest. "why are you on the floor?" you asked. silence lingered. "i wasn't—i wasn't sure if it would be okay." "get on the bed, gihun." unbeknownst to him, you were awake for the past hour and some change waiting; having moved purposefully to lay on one side of the bed.
your face felt warm, eyes squeezing shut and nestling into your pillow when you felt the weight of the bed dip behind you. even though your backs faced each other, you thanked the universe that no lights were on in the room. gihun laid as far on his side of the bed as he could; not enough to warrant worry that he would fall off, but enough to thwart his fastening heartbeat he felt come increasingly close to his throat. or so he thought, because he stuttered with his next words: "you—you left your door open. don't ... don't do that. someone might come in." a beat. "you did." was all you said. barely ten minutes later, both of you succumbed to the white nose of the air vent, gihun's quiet snores and your steady breaths filling the room.
a week later, you walked into your apartment, setting bags of fresh groceries down on the kitchen counter. you heard your text tone go off in the midst of searching your cabinets for the usual pots and pans you used to cook—a piercing rattle reverberating through the immediate space when you dropped a small pot onto the stove, reading the text from gihun: 1 do not come. you stared at the text in horror, inner monologue clustered and borderline indecipherable—did he find him? how? when—yesterday it was another dead end—and lunch was smooth, too—how could have things changed so quickly? where is he—do not come? is he at there, at the motel? he sent this seven minutes—did he confront him there? how did he even find him there? how did he even— how did he even get inside? your eyes flickered back to the 1—a code you two established the night you took your wordless oath to help him in his endeavor ("it's quick to type. the 'one' we're looking for, the 'one' chance we have.") gihun sent the other three words to deter your stubbornness under the glimmer of the neon pink motel sign he didn't turn on himself, further punctuating the sentiment of imminent danger.
"how ... how long do i wait for?" you whispered to yourself. you paced back and forth, gnawing at whatever skin was left on your lips, moving to your nails after they felt raw. you didn't process your stomach rumbling more time went by; another hour passing on the clock, nor did you pay mind to how your loafers continuously pinched the back of your ankles, too occupied to remember to take them off. your phone rang close to midnight. gihun hadn't realized how quickly you picked up his call: "gihun!? what happened? is everything okay? are you okay?" "i'm safe." he said. "i am okay." he let out a breath, hearing yours on your side of the line. he began to explain: "we found him an hour after lunch. we tailed and tried to corner him, but he was too quick. one of my men are dead, and he used to other to find me at the motel." "n-no." you said weakly, shaking your head, horrified. "he was in my room." gihun continued. "he challenged me to a game of russian roulette. i won. he's dead."
you hadn't the faintest clue what that game was. but that did not matter. "d-dead? just—just like that?" your voice was quiet, eyes glossy. "after searching for these three years, he's gone just like that?" these people were so fucking odd. no matter how many times you reeled over the details, anecdotes, of whatever you learned, their ominous nature left you with an uneasy stomach; an urge to look over your shoulder at any given moment. it was consuming you these last six months. you couldn't imagine how it's been for him for the past few years. gihun nodded, despite you not being able to see. "yes." he affirmed. "he gave me what i needed. there's a card with a date and address for a halloween party, i think, since i searched it up and saw its a club. that's where the leader of the games will be. we've started planning what we're going to do—" "—that's—that's two weeks from now." you thought aloud. "yes." said gihun, nodding again. here came the part of the conversation he'd been avoiding: "i need you to ... i need you to stay at your apartment. just for tonight." you were deeply offended. "what? are you crazy?" you retorted, furrowing your eyebrows. "absolutely not. you listen to me, i'm coming—" "—no, listen to me." he cut you off. "it's a mess at the motel. i can't—" he huffed, shoulders sinking a little. "i can't do that to you."
you understood what he meant. "okay." you sounded hurt, but agreeable. you leaned on the kitchen counter, elbow rustling against the grocery bags. "okay." you repeated, running your hand over your face, clearing your throat afterward. you realized this wasn't gihun acting as if he was alone in his endeavor, but asking nonverbally for your belief in him. "i'll stay here. i trust you." "thank you." he responded in a whisper, overcome by a hefty wave of relief. "just for tonight. i promise." he specified once again. "i know." you said. a moment of silence washes over before gihun speaks. "i'll take you to work tomorrow." he said gently. "do you go in at nine?" "seven." you correct. you look over your shoulder, seeing it was nearing one in the morning on the oven clock. "i didn't realize how late it was. i haven't even showered yet." "me neither." he responded, glancing at the time on his car's dashboard. "i'll be at your building at half six. is that okay?" you nodded, despite his not being able to see. "yes, that's okay."
silence washed over the call. "thank you for trusting me." he said. "thank you for trusting me too. goodnight, gihun." "goodnight." he quickly hung up the call, tossing his phone onto the empty passenger's seat. a shaky breath left his lips as his eyes watered, fingers harshly rubbing his closed eyelids. "fuck." he muttered under his breath. when his vision cleared, he turned his head, looking out his car window to your apartment building. he stared and stared, eyes flittering up and down the various floors, trying to spot yours with any hint; a lamp turned off, a curtain closed, anything. some part of him wanted to stay in his spot until he was to pick you up, and another irrationally hoped you'd walk out of the building, like a lovesick teenager who's lost all reason. but eventually, gihun's hand reached for the gear, putting the car in drive, gradually pushing down on the peddle.
those two weeks were a stilled, prolonged goodbye. your face and muscles felt heavy as if you were already in mourning, but your brain remained defiant. he's too stubborn to let those people kill him. you told yourself, pouring creamer into your coffee at work. he's not stupid enough to die. the later half of october rolled out. with each passing day, you slowly lost the strength to cross out the dates on the calendar in his room. gihun would be a fool to not see the growing cynicism that deepened your eye bags, the perpetual frown on your face during dinner, or the avoidance of eye contact. you woke up too easily these days, gihun often hearing your shower head long before your alarm went off. he wasn't sure if you even set an alarm anymore, but it was enough to deduce you weren't getting much sleep. what was once a witty back-and-forth when reviewing the day's plans for his recruits, became a subdued, one-sided conversation where you looked at the whiteboard with an unreadable expression, offering a monotone "sounds good" in the end. as halloween drew closer, your midday texts lessened. gihun reached out—Are you going on lunch soon?—only to come to terms with his hurt upon reading your response: Busy day. I'll see you at dinner. your eyes watered, bottom lip quivering when he texted back: Okay. No problem. you clicked your phone off, turning it face down. you pushed away your half-eaten lunch, losing your appetite. a ragged breath left your diaphragm, tears threatening to leave your waterline. no one else was in the break room, so the consequences of suppressing your emotions thankfully beared no audience. but you felt exposed nonetheless, confronted by the fact that you couldn't bear to lose gihun, but you had no choice.
the motel was eerily silent the night before halloween. the plan was concrete, reviewed ad nauseam over the last couple of weeks. dinner had wrapped a few hours prior, the tupperware packed away in your tote bag hanging on the back of a lounge chair in your room. you didn't dare look at gihun. in fact, your eyes stayed down the entire time, speaking minimally other than to ask to pass a side dish, or offer him more rice. your quivering lips were hidden well behind your utensils, or taking a drink of water. gihun was just as quiet. not passive, but quiet. he didn't muster the courage to say anything. he might not be the most gifted in expressing his emotions, but he was aware enough to read the room and know it wasn't the best time to bring up the inevitable. he knew he couldn't leave you alone. he couldn't, not without saying something.
so there he was, some time past eleven pm, knocking on your door frame. "are you awake?" he asked gently, even if your nightside lamps were on, apparent that you weren't asleep. you peeked over your shoulder. "yes." you answered, returning your temple to your pillow. gihun walked into the room, back facing you as he sat on the edge of your bed. he had enough gall to keep you in his peripheral vision, but fell short of looking at you directly. "what did i tell you about leaving your door open, hm?" he asked, trying to sound sharp, but succumbing to tenderness. "anyone can walk in." "you aren't just anyone, gihun." you said oh so delicately, enough to have him turn his head completely, eyebrows turned up sympathetically. you saw his eyes on you in your periphery, but avoided his gaze, keeping yours on your palm running back and forth along a small spot of the thin duvet.
"i—" gihun reached into his pocket. "i made you a key for the motel." he leaned over to his right, setting it down on your nightside table. "if you ever need anything," he glanced in your direction, the strength to look at you fleeting. "take as much as you want. you know where the room is." you didn't say a word. your palm stilled. his gaze fell to the duvet, too, his hand gliding across the wrinkles. "like i said before," his voice was low. "i don't plan on forgetting you—" "—gihun, stop." you interrupted. "i don't have the strength for this."
silence. he tries again: "i'll come back." he spoke warily. "i'm going to come back." "please." your voice fell to a whisper. "i can't take it." your chin hovered above your chest from the length you went to avoid his eyes. you felt fragile as porcelain, every single utterance of this conversation chipping away at you without remorse. gihun doesn't try again, internally frustrated with how easily he felt defeated. silence wins again, but not for long. he continues tracing the duvet's wrinkles, inching towards to your hand with every swipe. his hand comes closer and closer, until he slows. you watched his fingers gradually hold yours. gihun doesn't apply pressure, but he stays there. he keeps them in his grip when he moves to lay on his side, facing you. "at least look at me." he whispered, pleading. "i can't." you sounded so defeated. his eyes glistened, gripping your fingers properly now. "i can't regret my decision now. not when i'm so close." his eyes shined under the warm-toned light of your lamp. "don't make me regret my decision. please."
your head rose, meeting his eyes. he looked his most familiar: a deep somberness etched in the crevices of his face, his eyes perhaps the most poetic of all. they looked so soft, so gentle; as if a look of malice could never come close to tainting them. he could try his damn hardest, feel the most visceral of anger, but he could never look truly dissatisfied, forever unable to mask his true desire for comfort. for love. a small grin tugged at gihun's lips. "there you are. i missed you." he was barely audible, almost as if he mouthed the words. without thinking, he moved his head onto the pillow, not realising how close you two were until it was too late. it was like a strange instinct, the way he leaned in. he couldn't stop himself; not when the quietest of gasps escaped between your teeth, or his heart thumping so harshly his chest felt it was going to burst, or when his lips hovered admittedly awkwardly above yours. the kiss was light, almost nonexistent, until gihun leaned forward a little more. the tip of his nose brushed past yours, bringing his lips against yours wholly. his nose lightly dipped into your cheek when he kissed you again. before you could show any semblance of reciprocity, gihun abruptly pulled away.
"i'm sorry." he said. "i shouldn't have ... i shouldn't have done that. i'm sorry—" "—it's okay." you shook your head, panicking slightly. you slipped your fingers out of his grip, using them to make him look at you. "come here." you say. he follows, molding his lips with yours once again. the kiss was one of fervor; relocating misplaced frustration into that of palpable yearning; two souls who came together by chance after decades past; an atomic understanding of each other's pain, yet accepting you'll never truly know what's its like to live the other's life; a long-awaited embrace of the unknown, succumbing to the desire—no, the need to be loved.
gihun's lips felt soft, contrasting with his stubble rubbing against your chin and upper lip. it made you pull him closer, his head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss, eyebrows turning upward at the sound of your muffled whimper. your hand left his face, taking his hand and laying his palm atop your clothed breast. he took the hint, kneading it with just the right amount of firmness, but not without moaning lowly into your mouth. his pointer and middle fingers pulled the collar of your sweater down, breaking the kiss mind-numbingly slowly before trailing down to your neck, past your double chin, settling on the faint stretch marks adorning your shoulder. your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, an encouraging hand in his hair as your chest nearly collided with his, back arched in bliss.
you brought yourself back down to earth, hand reaching past his chest, undoing his belt. you scrambled to undo the button and zipper, escaping into his briefs. gihun let out a guttural moan into your warm skin, embarrassingly (to him) hard in your hand, breathing hard through your slow strokes. "h—h-ha ... h—ngh!" he tried to contain himself by peppering kisses onto your skin, but ended up bucking his hips up into your soft palm. you fastened your pace, fingers wrapped securely around his girthy cock, his precum wetting your hand. gihun shuddered, mouth agape and face burrowed into your clothed chest, fingers limp on your shoulder. you bit your bottom lip as you continued your ministrations, thighs rubbing together for any sort of friction. a whimper rattled out of his diaphragm when you began pumping only his tip. "i'm g-gonna pass out!" he whined. he gasped sharply when he felt something stir in his abdomen. "n-no, no—w-wait!" he suddenly moved, laying his head next to yours on the pillow. "w-wait! s-stop! i'm—" his body reacted before he did. gihun's nose brushed against your cheek, his mewls and grunts making your eyebrows knit together in a fit of awe and sexual drive you hadn't felt in years. hot spurts of cum coated his briefs and your inner wrist. you gradually came to a halt, overhearing his labored breathing.
you leaned in, softly reconnecting your lips. even in his clouded haze, gihun kissed back with intent. his hand found the hem of your pants, leaning closer to you, your free hand holding his cheek, deepening the kiss. you turned your head towards the ceiling with a sharp inhale, effectively breaking the kiss, however, when his fingers dipped between your folds. goosebumps arose on your arms underneath your sleeves, a soft hiss brewing between your teeth. "your hand is cold." you whispered. his nose pushed against your cheek, lips pressing chaste kisses onto your supple skin. "i'm sorry." he said. "i can ... i can stop." "no, it's okay. it's okay." you say breathily, closing your thighs around his wrist. gihun's jaw dropped at the sight."it'll warm up. just—just keep going." you tell him. "fuck!" his voice fought so hard to stay quiet, coming out hoarse.
your eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed. it was only every few swirls of his finger did a small gasp leave your slightly swollen lips, feeling him come closer to your clit than before. gihun was so fucking close to where you needed him to be, but not quite there. his unintentional teasing concocted the subtle yet apparent slosh of your wetness as your puffy lips encased his middle finger. you arched your back a little, hoping it would slip him into place, but to no avail. you reached for his head, fingers slipping into his hair. "gihun," you swallowed, mouth dry. "a little h-higher." "where? here?" his cock was hardening in your hand again, blurring his logic, trailing kisses up to your temple in his misunderstanding. "your hand, gihun. your f-finger." "right, right." he quickly realized. "i'm sorry."
the pad of his middle finger inched higher. the light of heaven was now in your sight. you opened your legs to allow just enough room for his wrist to fulfill your next request: "a l-little deeper, gihun. a little—f-fuck!" your gasp echoed off the walls. your hand left his hair, coming to cover your mouth, eyes barely open to look down at his hand in your pants. your wetness was blatant, the sticky sound making his cock stiffen and your vision blur. "g-gihun!" you whimpered, feeling him rubbing unrelentingly your sweet bundle of nerves. every swipe tightened the muscles of your inner thighs, toes curling in your socks. "k-keep going! keep going!" you pleaded helplessly, voice stuck at a whisper.
gihun pressed his forehead against your temple, eyes cast below with no intent of looking away. "f-fuck." he muttered under his breath, mouth agape at how he worked you. his mind became mush, marveling over your warmth and intoxicating softness. "please." he muttered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut at the thought of how you would feel wrapped around him. his shame made him feel juvenile, embarrassed by how his thoughts were as sexually erratic when he was 21 to his now 51, but not enough to stop him from grinding his cock into your loosened grip. "p-please," he whispered to himself. "god almighty—hngh!"
you began pumping him again, your other hand going back into his hair, turning your head and kissing his lips. it was one of newfound hunger; quick yet deep; quiet but stuttered through moans and hushed whimpers. suddenly, a knot formed in your abdomen, threatening to unravel. you broke the kiss. "i'm close." your tone was so vulnerable, like you would trust him with the world. gihun opened his eyes, taking in how beautiful you looked under the lamplight, the sheerest coat of sweat glimmering off your skin. "are—ngh!—a-are you?" you asked. he felt your breath brush against his cheeks, his forehead atop yours, nodding. "y-yes. we can finish together. c'mon." he kissed your cheek and your temple. "o-okay," you said breathily, head turning towards the ceiling, feeling his lips rest against your skin. "i trust you."
before gihun could register it, you unraveled. your moans were so delicate, so gentle, descending into shudders rattling out of your chest; back arching, eyebrows turned upward in ecstasy. "i—i!" you whimpered, the feeling of his finger continuously circling your clit through your unimaginable orgasm making your sinuses loosen, tears prickling even in your tightly shut eyes. "yes! yes! y-yes!" you chanted like a prayer, pumping him whilst you rode out your high. gihun was an incoherent mess through his second orgasm, his sweaty forehead sticking to your cheek, spilling onto your wrist in finality. he felt depleted of all energy, dizzy for those first few moments whilst you laid beside each other in your respective post-orgasmic hazes, your joint-labored breathing outdoing the room's air conditioning unit.
his hand slowly pulled out of your pants, yours slipping from his briefs when he turned to lay on his back. gihun's eyes closed, lulling his heartbeat with every deep breath he took. even though your body had stilled—eyes closed, tongue running over your dried lips; trying to bring yourself back down—something stirred inside of you. your body had its release, but your heartbeat fastened for a reason you did not want to acknowledge. in fact, there could not have been a worse time than now. you hastily wiped the tear that had fallen during your orgasm, your face contorting into a near sob, almost giving in to the reality that you convinced yourself you've long accepted. but you loathed it so much, so viscerally that your temples vibrated with anger; resentment; vitriol, even. all those missed phone calls, lying texts, quiet dinners, avoidant conversations . . . now here you were, suffering the consequences the night before he's set to leave.
am i really going to cry after an orgasm? really? you thought to yourself. you knew it wasn't the truth, but you were internally fighting tooth and nail to not yield to the suffocating devastation consuming your lungs like smoke at the moment; breath stuttering through your nostrils, chest convulsing whilst you held back the tears. but then, you felt his hand ghost past yours when he fixed his posture in bed. all hell broke loose.
gihun's eyes widened when he heard you cry. his hand did not hesitate to ride up your arm; a firm, yet gentle tug at your shoulder in an attempt for your attention. "hey," he spoke softly. "what happened? is everything okay?" you cried even harder, bringing your hand to your mouth. gihun's knuckles wiped what he could reach, turning on his side to face you. his big brown eyes looked to you with the same devastation your body was currently expelling. "was it something i did?" he whispered tragically. he was afraid he overstepped a boundary tonight, the intensity of it all hitting you suddenly. but that couldn't be farther from the truth. if only you could stop crying to tell him.
you turned to look at him, pawing weakly at his chest to somehow ground yourself enough to speak. the attempt proved to be worthless, the warmth of your tears lulling you into a state of incoherence. gihun's hands came up, holding either side of your face. "what is it?" his voice was low, laced with concern and perpetual shame. "what happened, hm? you can tell me." he encouraged, fingers wiping your fresh tears, palm softly encasing your cheek afterward. "i can't stand to see you like this. please, tell me."
"i-i'm so sorry i've been so distant!" you exclaimed, your tears added an unintended tone of urgency. you looked into his eyes, shaking your head. "i'm so sorry i've b-been so mean!" "no—" gihun dismissed gently, pulling you into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you; one hand smoothening your hair, the other holding onto your hip. "it's okay. you have nothing to apologize for." he meant every word. gihun never once questioned why you acted the way you did. he's anticipated this from the moment he asked for your number that early afternoon several months ago. out of all the unpredictable variables that have unfairly cast themselves into the trajectory of his life, he could always count on his selfishness to rear its ugly face in the end. whether it be debt, addiction, or hurting the ones he loved—he bears the consequence. but some part of this makes it feel worth it, as murky as it is. "it's okay. it's okay." he hushed your cries. gihun kissed your temple tenderly. "there is nothing to be forgiven." he told you when your tears subsided, holding onto you even tighter. "you haven't done anything wrong."
after a while, you slowly sat up. gihun too, albeit cautiously, watching you wipe underneath your eyes with the back of your hand. you let out a long breath, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "i've always been such an ugly crier." you muttered. gihun exhaled through his nose, grinning. "i can never predict what's going to come out of your mouth next. no matter how hard i try." you grew flustered, an upside down grin tugging at your lips. "you missed thirty years of my life." you said. "of course you'd be a little lost."
gihun couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. comfortable silence washed over the room. your palm began to swipe back and forth on the duvet again, but your eyes were on him. avoidance wasn't in the realm of possibility anymore. it hurt, but you felt ready. "you can't die, gihun." you spoke, voice quiet, as if volume would shatter the sanctity of your oath. you looked at him as if you were the only two beings on the entire earth. "i have more food to make." his gaze did not waver. "i won't." he responded, equally gentle. "i have more to eat."
two days later, you unlocked the door, stepping into your apartment. you kicked your shoes off without a moment's hesitation, setting your purse down on the kitchen counter. the rustle of the plastic bag in your hand almost overshadowed the vibration in your pocket. fishing your phone out, you rolled your eyes at the work email notification. something regarding an ongoing project, or an upcoming meeting—you could have cared less. "it's nine fucking pm. are they this incompetent?" you muttered as you walked to the living room, clicking your phone off and setting it down on the coffee table.
the plastic bag, surprisingly, was not filled with fresh vegetables and your other go-to ingredients, but takeout. you untied the knot, opening the styrofoam containers filled with freshly-cooked fried chicken and tteokbokki, respectively. "shit," you said to yourself, getting up from the couch and scurrying to the fridge, bringing back a can of sprite to accompany the meal. you ignored the cabinet housing your tupperware, not even permitting your oven, which stored your pots and pans, in your peripheral vision. for now, and for your sanity, they were dead to you.
you ate your meal in silence. the crunch of the chicken, chewiness of the rice cake, and the fizzing of your soda kept you company. your phone lit up with emails, the news, reminders to pay bills, your paycheck hitting your bank account; you didn't waver. you did what you vowed to do for the next days, weeks, or maybe the next thirty years: waiting. for something. anything.
honey's taglist! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა: @gongyoosgf @infinetlyforgotten
#squid game#squid game season 2#seong gihun#seong gi hun#squid game imagine#seong gi hun imagine#seong gihun imagine#seong gi hun x reader#choi su bong#gihun imagine#gi hun imagine#gihun#squid game x reader#squid game smut
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NOOOOO DO NOT LET INHO FIND OUT ABOUT SANGWOO KNOCKING UP GIHUN AND THEN GOING TO SNU LIKE A DEADBEAT 💀 inho would find a way to resurrect sangwoo (he'd even ask that creepy shaman lady if it came down to it) so he can kill him a hundred times. because WHAT THE FUCK, YOU LEFT GIHUN ALONE PREGNANT? AND THEN YOU WEREN'T THERE FOR HIM WHEN GIHUN GOT MORNING SICKNESS ALL THOSE MONTHS? YOU WEREN'T THERE WHEN GIHUN EXPERIENCED LABOR PAIN? SANGWOO WASN'T EVEN THERE WHEN THE BABY WAS TAKEN FROM GIHUN... 😢
seriously though - that is so sad. gihun lost his first baby, then tried to build his life without bitchass sangwoo, got fired from his job, ptsd from the strike, got addiction, then he loses gayeong in custody... oh gihun sweetie 😢</3
the emotional but bittersweet reunion in the games. it starts with gihun wanting to be alone with daeho because he has some questions, the date of his birth and the hospital he was born in...
can you imagine, how cruel fate can be? why did gihun had to meet his child after so many years in the game out of all places. now he really has to protect everybody ESPECIALLY HIS BOY with his life 😢
PLEASE WRITE A REUNION SCENE AND HOW IT WILL GO 🙏 ALSO DO YOU THINK AFTER CRYING TOGETHER, DAEHO WOULD ONLY SLEEP IN GIHUN'S BUNK BED CLINGING ON TO HIM LIKE LIFE SUPPORT? 😢
(inho this is your chance to be the father that stepped up 😤)
NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!! SANGWOO DIDNT WANNA LEAVE BUT GIHUN TOLD HIM TO GO, THAT ONE OF THEM SHOULD HAVE A GOOD FUTURE! THEIR MOMS HAD ALREADY MADE THEM PROMISE TO GIVE UP THE BABY! SANGWOO LOVED HIS SON TOO! 😭🙏💖💖
i think that gihun got pregnant in their last year of high school, like mid way through, so he was still pregnant when sangwoo got accepted into snu. sangwoo was gonna drop out to take care of gihun but gihun told him to go, that they were going to give up the baby especifically so they could have a good life.
but gihun could never forget his baby and i think it stuck with him much more than it did with sangwoo. in fact, giving up that baby essentially killed their relationship. sangwoo worked hard to honor that sacrifice but gihun could never let go of it; he kept wondering about the "what ifs".
gihun lost children twice in his life....
and seeing daeho again in the games would be so bittersweet, as you say. i'm wondering how exactly gihun would know daeho is his son; maybe he just looks at him and he knows, or maybe gihun remembers that the couple who adopted his son already had four girls at home and he gets suspicious.
oh inho is gonna step the fuck up!! that's his son now 😤 he's not jungbae's, not matter how much daeho seems to like the man or how much jungbae seems to want to place himself in gihun's life as his son's dad 😒 he would be seething with jealousy eivnjfvinjfrg
#teen mom au#asks#yapping 4ever#squid game#seong gi-hun#hwang in-ho#inhun#457#ginho#kang dae-ho#cho sang-woo#sangihun#park jung-bae
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Hello, I don't usually ask questions on social networks, but I wanted to know what you think of a story where our human friend suffers an accident aboard the lost light in the Brainstrom laboratory and now the bots are able to see his thoughts. Bonus points if it's weird stuff (most of our minds are very weird), (sorry if something is poorly translated, I'm writing this with the translator) ^^)
One, I absolutely adore this concept.
Two, did you know there are people that think in pictures rather than use an internal voice?
And to top it off, people go around referencing pop culture, iconic scenes, memes, and their favorite media as well as the weird, intrusive thoughts and extreme, nonsensical daydreams...
I like to think there would be a media war between the Cybertronians that never went to Earth and only know beloved cartoons and shows and memes from the weird reenactment from the resident human's mind but with the Lost Light crew getting morphed into it versus the Cybertronians that actually had direct experience and personally downloaded those shows and movies.
As the "I Ship It" song goes, canon ground versus crack ship space.
Does anyone else remember those Naruto animation videos where the Akatsuki are drawn drunk or doing hilarious dances? The human looked up the Decepticon Justice Division, cross referenced on what they do, and immediately thought of a full sequence of the D.J.D. doing the Gang Torture Dance from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure.
The human thinks of sequences, including but not limited to:
Ultra Magnus as Steve Harvey from Family Feud with Rodimus with the "Nekkid Grandma!" bit
Rodimus doing "Goofy Goober Rock" because Roddy would love to be suspended in the air and dressed in wizard swag with a killer rip on a peanut-themed guitar. Drift has the legs to fulfill Patrick's fishnet-and-heels dance.
Megatron and Ratchet in The Office because he would stare deep into the camera at whatever new trouble has plagued the ship
Getaway and Rodimus doing the "Tony and Ezekiel" bit
So many fire-related memes: Elmo and the "This is fine." Dog.
The overlap of Rodimus in Gurren Lagen and Bang Brave Bang Bravern
The continuously weirder and weirder thoughts on how Cybertronian strip club would look like based on Futurama, Cyberpunk, and Night runner's Magnum Bullets. "Snu-snu" bit included. It's both highly ridiculous, strangely erotic, and absolutely terrifying at the same time to the Lost Light crew.
Whenever a mech does something stupid, the human immediately reimagines the mech in Wheel of Fortune fails, or a shoving potatoes in the exhaust
Nightbeat in a noir setting or as Sherlock Holmes
Rung is "Mister Cellophane" from Chicago
Assigned character theme songs
The last bullet causes so much drama because mechs want to have really cool or badass themes, but no! The human assigns them sex or porn songs like "Life is a Highway" and "Shut Up and Drive" and "Two Trucks," or something silly like "Barbie Girl" or the opening theme to Mega XLR or the sad song on the world's smallest violin to the poor bastard that gets stuck with the engex bill at the end of the night.
#ask#transformers#transformers idw#idw#mtmte#reader insert#rodimus#rodimus prime#ultra magnus#drift#megatron#getaway#nightbeat#rung#Ratchet#culture clash#cultural misunderstandings#maccadam#my thoughts#the hilarity of the crew quoting SpongeBob or the Office or Parks and Recreations is hilarious to me#the resident human becomes the crew's beloved form of entertainment especially for the Family Feud and Wheel of Fortune fails
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Paring: Dino x fem!reader
Requested: no
Genre: angst, fluff
Warning(s): cheating, angst, sadness, mentions of pregnancy (do inform me if there's more)
Summary: You were the light guiding Chan for the most of his life. now that you are not there anymore, he cant help but feel your absence as he reminisces his past and all those times you were there to ground him no matter what.
Word count: 6k
Other works
disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.
special thanks to @spamgyu for helping me out 😭
a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask.
[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]
Chan's life was determined before he had a chance to consider it. His family wasn't well-off. They struggled from early on to get food on their plates. He knew from when he was a child that he had to support his siblings because his parents refused to do so.
So that’s exactly what he did. He got into SNU with a full scholarship, secured a good job, and built a stable life with six figures coming in annually to his bank account, providing enough money to support his siblings’ dreams.
But what did it all get him?
Nothing!
He sacrificed his teens and his twenties because his father felt the need to be a raging alcoholic, and now he stands in the middle of Gangnam in his beautiful flat with its polished floors. But he lacks the most important thing in life: happiness.
To be truthful, he lacks a lot of things, but happiness takes the cake. If someone asks him, he lacks friends too. But our dearest Boo Seungkwan would like to disagree about that. In Chan’s defense, friends are absolutely not equal to friend (just a difference of ‘s’, as our dear ‘Kwanie’ said. Plus, his multiple personalities make up for the said lack of ’s’, which further raises the question as to why the man does not go for a checkup, as it seems he has self-diagnosed DID. We shall never know).
Chan is happy about his brothers doing what they like, though. It’s not that hard to not be happy when he literally raised them. Sacrifices need to be made, he has realized; some just make more than others, and there is nothing one can do about that. He accepts that he is indeed grateful for the friend he has made, the one who has stayed with him and accepted him as he is.
Now, it may sound sappy, and Chan swears he will never tell this to Seungkwan, but he has indeed helped him through the thick and thin of life. All those late-night drinking sessions and ugly crying have brought him to this stage in life where he thinks of the boy as more of a family than anyone else. He helped him when Chan’s life was falling apart, and he also was there to scold him back to the right track when no one believed in him, not even himself.
Although he lacks happiness, he is fine with that (he at least has Boo Seungkwan). He can live with being sad; he already has!
This is where you came in, the reason for Chan’s genuine smiles, from back in college to five years ago. It was a pretty serious relationship that you both had. Chan loved you. He had plans of making you his wife. For God’s sake, he was in a relationship with you for almost ten years! But somewhere along the way, he messed up. He became the exact thing he had hated all his life.
He became a person like his father.
You, being the nice kind, tried your best to stop him from spiraling down the rabbit hole of bad habits. But alas, it takes two to tango, and if he didn’t want to be better, no one, not even God himself, could do it for him.
It took losing you to realize how messed up his life had become.
--
“Chan, I’m heading out. Dinner’s in the fridge—please actually eat it this time. We don’t need two meal skippers in this household,” you quipped, watching as Chan chuckled and gave you a quick giggle inducing peck before returned his attention to the document he’d been typing for the past hour.
“Sure thing, Your Majesty. Your command shall be dutifully followed!” he exclaimed with a mock salute, drawing out another laugh from you. With a playful ruffle of his hair and another peck on his cheek, you left the apartment to begin your night shift at the hospital.
Chan, unlike you, has just started his new job after completing his MBA. It’s been tough, but he’s persevered, and soon enough, you both will be able to enjoy the luxuries he could only dream of growing up.
Your fifth anniversary is approaching faster than ever, and now Chan finally has the means to fulfill your dream of a trip to Europe. The pressure of this new job is more than the last one, but getting those tickets would be a walk in the park now.
Quickly finishing his document and mailing it to the head of the department, he immediately goes to check those flight ticket prices and hotel prices. He releases a happy sigh the minute he realizes that it’s exactly what he had expected the prices to be. So, without wasting a single moment, he buys those tickets. He knew this gift would make you happier than ever.
The next month, you had been notified about the expensive purchase only because you had to get a leave from your job, and you obviously can’t disappear for two weeks unannounced. He, in reality, had no plans to inform you about anything, but he couldn’t interfere with your job either.
But at the end it was worth it, the look on your face the minute you were informed about the trip. Oh, if only Chan could frame it and keep it away from the world, only if he could keep you near him and never let you go. But he didn’t think of that then. No, he was happy he had told you earlier.
The happiness radiating off you as you kept going on and on about the clothes you needed to buy, all the foods you were going to try once there. It was what helped him keep going throughout the day, even though the work became tiring with every passing minute.
If only he could have stopped time and lived in that moment forever.
—
One thing he never realized is how demanding his job would be once he got into a higher position. The calls kept him up at night; they came at the most ungodly of times, and Chan was expected to pick them up, because he always did.
You never complained; it was fine by you. If anyone understood him, it was you. Both of you had highly demanding jobs, and nothing could beat the expectations your colleagues had on you both.
But what he had not counted on was those calls interrupting your trip. During the entirety of your anniversary, he was glued to that phone of his, never once able to leave it. It was one problem at the office or the other.
Again, you kept your mouth shut, enjoying your own company as your boyfriend busied himself with work in the hotel room.
That was the last trip you both had gone on. You figured that it was too much to ask from someone who had so much work to do. But still, you understood his hunger to do better in life. You understood that someone had to compromise in the relationship and wholeheartedly accepted that it had to be you.
Coming to think of it, it was not supposed to be like this. Never! Both of you were supposed to communicate and figure out what your relationship was supposed to mean. But somewhere along the line, it just became regular sex and nothing else. When you talked about this with your friends, all of them had the same reaction.
‘Leave him!’ they had told you, ‘he wouldn’t change, he prefers his job more than you.’
It was a regular thing now. But you were scared. All the years you had invested in the relationship, you never wanted it to become what it had. You had held out hope that one day Chan would notice you. He would realize he had a girlfriend who also needs his attention as much as his job.
It didn’t take too long for those dreams to come true, though.
—
One night, you sat down with the man, asking him about the changes in his life. You begged him to look your way beyond the times he made love to you. It was an intense conversation, filled with words that neither of you actually meant, but hurt you both equally.
That night brought you both another few years, or that’s what you think. It became better, both your lives and the relationship. You both would talk more, spend time with each other, laugh with each other, and go about your days with lovesick smiles on your faces. Although none of your jobs became less hectic, it still was as painstaking as ever, but the scenery in your shared home was peaceful. It was both of your comfort zones.
What neither of you realized, this peace that you both had brought back into your lives, was fickle. In order to keep it like that, both of you had to put in some effort.
—
It slowly became visible to both of you how much more effort this relation of yours needed. Both of you saw the way your paradise was crumbling down bit by bit. Nights became lonely for you. Chan, being the perfectionist he is, would be stuck up in his office until the rays of sun hit the glass windows, reminding him of the fact that he indeed had stayed the night in his office. The hectic job took everything away from him. It stripped him of his identity, and slowly it was also stripping his happiness and sanity away. It was like the darker times had hit both of you again.
It was then that he suddenly passed out on the streets due to extreme fatigue and was brought immediately into the nearest hospital, which was the one you worked at. Lo and behold, you were the nurse on emergency room duty that day. This was the first time you saw the love of your life in that state; you saw what this new job had done to him. How it had taken this happy and healthy person you knew and turned him into this sick, unhappy, and overworked person. Your helplessness mocked you in your face. At night, you stayed by his side after the doctors had given their verdict about him being too overworked. You took care of him like never before, making sure to make him take an ample amount of rest.
Sadly, the industry is ruthless. As soon as the employers became aware that their once highly valuable employee’s usefulness had diminished, they ultimately opted to terminate him. Although Chan claims there were some more internal politics involved in this sacking, there was no way he could have evaded it.
Both of you soon realized it was the best thing that could have happened to him. While being the worst experience he could ever go through in his corporate career.
You stayed by his side through every hurdle though. You never once let him feel the need to be more than what he already was. But life was giving both of you a hard time.
It took Chan another month to get a new job. But only this time, it was a better, more important position in a better company. This is when life took off for both of you again. With Chan back on track, equipped with the newfound knowledge of not working more than necessary, he was on a roll. Almost unstoppable.
This change also affected your relationship, but positively this time. Chan and you would go on constant dates and enjoy each other’s company way more than ever.
—
It was nearing your seventh anniversary. Both of you had talked about getting married and starting a family enough times for him to know this was the perfect time for him to propose.
So, on the day of your seventh anniversary, he had planned to take you to this fancy Italian place. He claimed that you deserved only the best. No one could ever argue with him about that. You, along with Seungkwan, had been by his side for so long that he had forgotten the time when he didn’t have you both. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would change that fact. With that it brought him to the most important question of that year.
“But what ring do I buy her?” the stressed boy asked his best friend.
“Wow, I wasn’t informed about the fact that y/n suddenly had become my girlfriend!” Seungkwan exclaimed sassily.
“Dude, you can calm down. She is still my girl, ain’t no way you are getting her. Find a girl of your own,” the shorter boy retorted back.
Why am I being asked about her preference for a ring then, huh?”
“Because she said, and I quote, ‘if you buy me an expensive engagement ring that I can’t even wear out because it looks too expensive, I will castrate you’,” Chan said seriously, bringing out a seal-like laugh from the back of Seungkwan’s throat.
“Do something meaningful for her then, you dumb fuck,” making Chan almost cringe at the scolding. Without letting the boy talk, his best friend continued, “Put in some effort and do something that shows you care, without having to spend a copious amount of money. I have no idea what you should do, but bro, if it were up to me, a girl would for sure get a ring no matter what!”
Now, this made him think. It made him think hard. But even after all that thinking, he couldn’t come up with a good idea for an alternative for an engagement ring.
It was not until the next Saturday when he was sitting on the couch waiting for you to choose a movie for the weekly movie night, did he stumble upon the perfect idea for a ring? Like any usual person, the man was scrolling through TikTok when he found out that one could make rings out of clay.
Perfect!
If you didn’t want a diamond ring, you shall get a clay ring. For you might catch the sun lacking one day, but not Chan, never Chan!
—
This kick-started the learner phase of Chan’s life once again. He would visit the pottery classes every week because he needed to excel at the art to mold the perfect ring. One suitable for daily wear and also because this hobby brought him more peace than ever.
He made some friends here; they were fun to hang out with. You had met all these new people flooding into his life. He would parade about the with his hand on you showing you off proudly.
“Who wouldn’t?” he would ask whenever someone pointed it out. This question had the power to make him start ranting about you at any given point. So much so that after a point, people stopped asking him about you, no matter the context.
Because, oh boy, was he in love.
--
It took him one year and some friendships to finally complete learning everything there was to learn about pottery. In the course of that time, he had littered your shared house with his creations.
Oh, you wanted to buy a new bowl because you saw it on Instagram? No fear, Chan shall make it this instant. Oops, your favorite coffee mug broke? Chan has come to your rescue with a better, scientifically cute, usable, and overall better mug for you.
The creative spark of the boy never dimmed down, nor did his extroverted nature. Every other day, he would be out with his new friends, so much so that even Boo Seungkwan noticed. You both had chats with each other about the changes in Chan’s life over a cup of tea whenever Seungkwan would come over.
To say that you both were happy about him enjoying life would be an understatement. You had seen the pain the man had gone through in his life. It only made sense for him to have the best of the best experiences when he had the opportunities.
But again, as people say, one should do everything in moderation. It seems that Chan could do nothing in moderation. He would work himself half to death. In this case too, he started drinking and partying himself half to death. The outings that were done to unwind after a long hard day became parties that were making the day even longer.
The friends that helped him overcome the pressuring environment of his office became the ones who would pressure him to go way out of his comfort zone, all for the wrong reasons. People say twenties are times when people experiment with their life and gain new experiences.
The same was applicable for Chan too, the only difference being he was learning different ways of spiraling down holes that are hard to climb up from. The hilarious part being, these were the holes that he had carefully dug out himself.
It’s not like you never stopped him, because you did. The minute you realized these new friends were pushing Chan’s limits in the wrong way, you didn’t waste a second to tell him.
“I think you should calm down with this partying and stuff. It’s unbelievably bad for your health,” you had told him one night when he had come home drunk out of his wits.
“I know how to have fun, not my fault you don’t!”
The boy had shouted at you before collapsing on the couch. Realizing it was a waste of time to even try and talk to him in this state, you tried again the next day when he was far more sober.
“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” you ask Chan, to which he shakes his still-hungover head and winces. Sighing, you continue, “Chan, you can’t let them get to you like this. Moderation is the key here. Please don’t overdo anything, I beg you!” You hugged him, trying to coax him to understand where you were coming from. He obviously hugged you back and promised you to keep your advice in mind the next time they asked him out.
He didn’t. He swears he tried to. But the peer pressure got to him. Before he could even back off, they had already hauled his ass to the bar. He never wanted to disappoint you. So he chose to accept the most coherent plan his drunk mind could formulate: the plan to lie to you.
—
Your seventh anniversary had come and gone a year ago. The only gifts he could provide you that day were a fancy dinner and a solid promise that he would indeed get you the greatest ring you will have ever seen in your whole life. Now the time had come. The time to prove his skills. Those skills he spent an entire year honing.
During this cute date at home, he produced a small wooden box from his pocket. After you had enjoyed the homemade meal he had whipped up for you and you both were cuddling on the balcony, he proposed to you with stars in his eyes and hope in his heart.
He shocked you with the ring. Like your relationship, it was delicate, yet made with lots of love and care. You obviously said yes without hesitation. After all, you loved this man, and he loved you too. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever go wrong if he was with you.
--
It seems that no matter how hard you try, life always seems to have other plans for you.
The month right after you accepted his proposal, you received an invitation for a two-year-long workshop in Germany. Such opportunities don’t come every day, so you were elated.
Without wasting any time, you called Chan, informing him about the opportunity you had received. But like every coin, this great opportunity had its drawbacks too.
With the prospect of studying and learning under some of the greatest doctors and nurses came the hardship of leaving your fiancé behind. Chan didn’t like this one bit. He could barely stand to be away from you for a second, let alone two years.
But seeing the excitement on your face and hearing the joy in your voice, he couldn’t bring himself to ask you to stay back. He knew you had sacrificed a lot for him, compromised at times when you could have been happy if he hadn’t made decisions that ruined his life.
--
So he put on a happy smile and told you that if you didn’t take this opportunity, he would pack your bags himself and kick you out of the house. This assurance gave you the confidence you needed. Without wasting any time, you sent an email accepting the proposition to join the workshop.
The next five months passed in a whim. During this time, he had asked you to marry him before you went away, but with a peaceful and determined smile, you had told him, “I will marry you once I come back, like that, we won’t have to spend too much time as newlyweds. Plus, I will be smarter than you too.”
“You are always smarter than me. I can never surpass you,” was the answer you had received, along with a sweet kiss, making your heart swell like a balloon.
Life was starting to feel better again.
Chan had finally made his boundaries very clear. The boy felt extremely guilty for lying to you, though he never confessed to you about doing so. He made sure his actions proved his redemption. He ensured to let these new friends of his know that going out too much with them was affecting him in ways that he didn’t appreciate. Although they did sometimes win against him and force him to go out, it was not as bad as it was before.
—
Soon the day came when you had to fly away to Germany. To say that Chan was sad would be an understatement. He was devastated when he saw you off at the airport with Seungkwan. He had cried the whole way home, making Seungkwan scold him as if he were a baby.
“Now if you keep behaving like this, do you think she would be happy?” the older boy questioned him.
“No, but I miss her already,” Chan replied in a whisper while wiping his tears harshly.
“Be nice, be happy for her. You can talk to her all the time. It’s not the Stone Age,” Seungkwan said with an exasperated sigh, making the younger one stop his sad boy antics at once.
But it was not like Chan was okay. He started working overtime at the office, desperately waiting for you to call him when you got free. And call you did, religiously at six o’clock in the evening.
You both made the decision to talk at that time, regardless of any circumstances. This went on for six months. He tried his best to follow the routine of overworking himself before you would call and save him from killing himself with work.
But with all these works, his willpower also started to crumble down. The old ways came back to him. Before he realized it, he became a party animal. He made new friends at these clubs and bars he started frequenting. He thought you wouldn’t pick up. But you did. You saw how your boyfriend was slowly changing. It was not that obvious at first, but slowly you realized he was getting drowned with work.
Being the lovely girlfriend you were, you asked Seungkwan to take care of him. The boy tried his best to do so. But alas, he was not that successful.
It seemed to both of you that Chan had spiraled back into his overworking session. What you both were unaware of was that it was more than that.
Chan was not just overworking; he was over-drinking and over partying too.
—
One faithful night; he met Eva, his pottery class instructor. She was pretty. They talked the whole night, catching up like old buddies and having fun.
She brought a change to his life again. She started being there for him during times when he would lose himself. She was a great friend, so great that in no time you had the chance to meet her.
You had come back for a week’s vacation. Seungkwan thought it was important for all the friends to meet up because it had been a long time since he had seen you. This meeting was supposed to consist of only you, Chan, and Seungkwan. But Chan asked to bring in another friend he would like you to meet. It was Eva.
You liked her; she was nice. You wanted to be friends with her. Her sweet personality was something no one could resist, a great example of a sweetheart through and through.
For once, you were actually proud of your boyfriend’s choices in life. Your visit was over even before it had started. Suddenly, the week was over, and you were packing your bags to return to Germany.
This time, Chan was not as scared of things going downhill anymore. He knew that within a few more months, you would come back, and he could happily start the wedding preparations. He also knew he had a solid group of friends to have his back. Most importantly, he had learned the art of living without you. Not that it was happy, but now he could enjoy spending time by himself.
—
Time flew faster than ever. In no time, it was Chan’s birthday. Your program would finish that same month, so sadly you couldn’t visit him. All you could do was video call him that morning and congratulate him for hitting thirty before you, to which he grumpily replied, “Your birthday is in six months; I’m gonna make it hell for you.”
“Whatever, old man, get dressed. Don’t you have a job to go to?” You laughed at his grumpy face while teasing him even more.
“I miss you,” Chan suddenly called out, pouting.
“You will meet me next month, Channie. Don’t be this sad now.” Although that did make him happy, the thought of spending yet another birthday without you was saddening. But it’s not like it was going to last. You would be back in no time.
That thought put a smile on his face. Soon enough, he was skipping around the house cooking breakfast and answering numerous calls from his friends and family for being a thirty-year-old now.
Seungkwan and Eva had also planned a not-so-surprise party for him. It consisted of meeting in front of his office and dragging his ass to the bar to drink and have fun. Although the day was spent slaving away in front of the computer, that night he had a lot of fun. He talked to Seungkwan and Eva for hours, and the three of them were pretty intoxicated when they left.
The only thing he remembered from that night was the fact that Eva, being the one out of the three with the most alcohol tolerance, was the one who had made sure that all of them returned home safely.
There was just one slight problem. Eva started to avoid him. Now, in any other situation, he would not have noticed it, but the text the next morning asking him if he remembered anything from the night before had him confused. When he asked her what it was all about, she refused to answer him, opting to ignore him instead.
He had no recollection of the night before, and Seungkwan didn’t either, so it was a mystery to both of them. But then again, his gut told him the problem was bigger than what he thought it was and might come to haunt him if not solved now.
So he did the most sane thing he could think of: He asked her to talk to him about it. He knew the wedding preparations would start the minute you came back, so he wanted to make sure to fix any problem that might affect you both before it blasted out of proportion.
—
“You kissed me,” was the first thing Eva told him after sitting down, making Chan’s heart drop to his stomach.
“Huh, but I don’t remember anything,” Chan retorted.
“It’s not about you remembering or not, it really happened, Chan, and I hate it,” she said, her voice almost breaking.
“Hey, calm down. We were both intoxicated, and we didn’t do it on purpose. Any other time and we wouldn’t have done it,” this seemed to have little to no effect on improving the girl’s mood.
On the other hand, Chan’s blood pressure was rising. The last thing he needed was a big mistake from which he could never turn back. With you coming back from Germany in less than a week, he needed everything in his life to be sorted out, especially something that could jeopardize a relationship with so much love in it.
“Chan, I think I like you. I’m not sure when it happened, or how it did. But I like you. So please don’t tell me I wouldn’t have done it if we weren’t intoxicated.”
The impact of this statement was so immense that it completely shattered his world, leaving him in disarray. It was true that he liked Eva. What kind of feelings he actually held for her was a mystery to him.
So, in the spur of the moment, he kissed her.
Just a few minutes ago, it was bothering him, but once he took the step, he didn’t feel what he was supposed to. He didn’t feel the disgust and hatred towards himself he should have. It felt like sneaking out of his house when he was not supposed to. It made a rush of excitement run through his body. He could feel the adrenaline rush through him.
He felt alive. maybe it was the feeling of doing something forbidden or it was something else, he didn’t know.
But, that night, they did more than kissing.
—
Once you were back, it was all sunshine and rainbows in the first few weeks. You both were happy, spending all your time together and having fun relishing in each other’s presence.
But it didn’t take you long to notice the changes. He would be stuck late at the office but come back home surprisingly lively, or those random texts from his brother late at night asking him to come over, or even the most obvious of them all, the vibrant smell of floral perfume that you never wear.
But you held out. You had promised to give him a chance to explain himself if he came clean to you. But that day never came. You asked him about these odd behaviors, but somehow he would always evade the topic altogether.
All those questions of ‘where were you last night’, ‘when will you come home’, or ‘shall we go on a date sometime soon’, all went unanswered.
He outright ignored your presence at home. But this didn’t stop the wedding preparations. Because his siblings and your parents alike loved him, they had taken the responsibility to take care of the wedding plans.
Before he could continue with his little escapades, Seungkwan caught and confronted him. Not by you but by Seungkwan. The older boy’s disappointment was beyond words. He screamed at him for an hour straight and then he had sat Chan down and calmly said,
“Either you tell her or I will.”
“But I can’t; she will leave me if I ever tell her.”
“Then she will be right in doing so.”
“Chan, I love you to death, but either you stop this and tell your girlfriend the whole truth, or I will take matters into my own hands. She has put up with enough of your shit. Don’t hurt her more,” he had said.
“Give me some time; I will do it as soon as possible,” the younger one had strained out, fisting his hair.
“She better know about it all before the wedding,” Seungkwan had warned him before seeing himself out.
—
Chan had cut off Eva after that. He tried to change everything before actually marrying you. Then, being the kind person you are, you tried to understand your boyfriend. You really did. But this was the first time in ten years you considered leaving him.
This relationship didn’t make you happy anymore. But you had gone through so many troubles together. The effort to hold each other upright was taking a toll on you.
But you were a fighter. You had fought many battles with him by your side. You couldn’t give up on those years either. Your internal dilemma was killing you. But all of this came to a halt one day when you had come back from your night shift, only to find your boyfriend and the girl he oh so diligently claimed to be his good friend, talking in the living room.
It was not like they were trying to be quiet because you could hear every single word spoken by them.
“Chan, it’s yours.”
“Eva, I have a fiancé. I will never leave her. I already told you, I love her.”
“Oh, so you didn’t think about that before fucking me”
“It was a mistake”, Chan shouted.
“No, it wasn’t, we both were very sober”, came another shout
The conversation hit you like a truck, and with each sentence, you felt your heart shattering. The decision suddenly seemed a bit too easy to make.
You walked out of the chaos, leaving the ring behind on the shoe rack. That night, you stayed at your friend’s place.
Following that event, you called Seungkwan, informing him that you won’t talk to Chan anymore. He simply asked if you wanted any help moving out, to which you answered with a simple no.
That was the end of the relationship for you. You refused to talk or see Chan ever again.
—
Now, five years later, Chan is to be married again. Not with you; no, he missed his chance. It's with Eva. They figured the best way to raise Minhan was to be together. In a county like theirs, it wasn’t the best idea to raise a kid with two unmarried parents.
Chan loved Minhan to death. But he could never show the same love for Eva. Looking at her reminded him of the mistakes he made in life. It reminded him of the happiness he could have attained, but he lost due to his own faults.
He is happy Seungkwan is still beside him. He knows he doesn’t deserve a friend like him, so the fact that Seungkwan stayed beside him makes him feel grateful.
He knew that his wife and child would move in with him soon, but he didn’t have the courage to let them into the house yet. The house that held both your memories was a bit too precious to let go of so easily.
The next day came faster than he anticipated. As Chan stood there waiting for his bride, he saw a face that he had been longing to see for the last five years.
He saw your face, sitting there on the benches, a sad smile adorning your face. Your eyes filled with emotions and stories of the years you had spent together.
Oh, how badly Chan wanted to abandon everything and run to you. Apologize a hundred times and ask you to take him back. But he couldn’t; he had children to take care of and shoes to fill.
As he stood there saying his vows, hoping it’s you he saw walking down the aisle and it’s you he kissed, but they are called dreams for a reason. And not all dreams come true.
As he kissed his bride, he saw a glimpse of your teary eyes amongst the crowd, and a tear of his own fell. Wishing for a future he was never destined to have.
the end
#svt#fluff#angst#dino#caratsland#seventeen#lee chan fanfic#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagines#seventeen oneshot#seventeen imagine#seventeen fluff#lee chan fluff#dino fluff#dino fanfic#dino imagines#dino x reader#seventeen x reader#lee chan x reader#chan imagines#chan x reader#lee chan x yn#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#svt x reader#svt oneshots#svt oneshot#svt scenarios#svt lee chan
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Here's a lovely, beautiful, little detail I loved in Episode 14 that I wish we saw more of throughout the show. BaekHong just teasing each other with their quirkiness and wittiness.
All those little scenes and dialogues were so beautiful and so important in letting me know and believe that yes this is why and how they fell in love. This is where they match in personalities. They see that part of each other. Cause life can be long as much as it is short, so god do you need a person who can make you smile, allow you to take yourself less seriously and just someone you can laugh with.
Here are a few examples I found in episode 14. If anyone knows more throughout the show that I'm missing please list them here!
1. Busman Confession
Haein: 'How did you even get into SNU?'
She was so real for this and it was so deserved. Also the way Hyunwoo starts teasing her immediately. She never wanted to tell him cause she knew he'd get cocky with her and of course he did. Love that lil laugh and teasing. Also I love how Haein keeps teasing him about his first love. She loves seeing him wound up.
2. Praying at the Church:
Haein: 'You're praying so much to get into heaven. Of course you'll need it if we want to meet in heaven.'
Hyunwoo: 'What makes you think you're going to heaven?'
They're both so mean and chaotic 😂 They're literally in church praying for Haein's fate and they decide to make these jokes. And I love how Hyunwoo doesn't hold back. He gives as good as he gets. I love the lightness foreshadowing the very dark and real reality they live in. This was so necessary and so well delivered. Like just subtly sprinkled.
3. Last Night at the Hospital before Haein's Surgery
Haein: 'You have nothing (complaints, times you were hurt in marriage secrets)?'
Hyunwoo: 'I'm trying to pick'
Making light of something that is very heavy and sad. It also shows the lighter side of Hyunwoo that I really appreciate when I get to see this in characters cause the people these characters are have to be multilayered. They can't be defined only by their capacity of love and sadness. Another example of this is Haein's really dark and dry sense of humour.
4. Episode 14 Epilougue
Haein: 'You used to tell me about the days you were in Law School? What was your secret to memorising so well?'
Hyunwoo cockily lies: 'I was just able to easily memorize anything I looked it.'
Haein: 'I'm serious did you gobble up the pages after memorising them?'
Hyunwoo: 'I'm not a goat.'
There literally hours away from her surgery. But look at him teasing her and making her smile. I love how Haein points out in an earlier episode 'as arrogant as you are you must Baek Hyunwoo' cause in front of her he flexes like no other but other than that he's just a humble man. So I love him never missing a chance to impress her. It's a very cute detail and I love seeing it strung along.
There are others as well. I think I saw a post by @havemercedes some time ago as well. I think this truly shines in episode 14 and I love this detail! ✨
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Playing With Fire
Chapter Two: Spark
Chapter Masterlist
Pairings: Frontman/In Hi x Fem OC (Some Gi Hun x Fem OC)
It was raining. To Ji Ah it felt like it was always raining lately. An incoming sign of winter or a bad omen? That she couldn’t decipher.
They had already asked several market vendors did they know the name Seong Gi Hun, most met them with apprehensive no’s, others claimed to know him but not where he lived. Till at last they asked a Mrs Cho.
She was a kindly older lady. Ji Ah noted a framed picture of a young man in a graduation cap and grown sat atop her shop display case. Her son, Ji Ah affirmed at the proud look Mrs Cho gave her when she caught her looking. “He is a SNU graduate” Mrs Cho explained proudly pointing to the photograph “he is also single” she said pointedly looking at Ji Ah.
Ji Ah merely smiled politely, it was not the first time mothers had tried set her up with their sons. Usually they take one look at at her fair face, childbearing hips and decide she is the perfect match for their sons - some of whom she is arresting at the time - she tired to take is a compliment. However many years of dating childish, incompetent men had left her adverse from taking any mother’s recommendations on the virtues of their sons.
Mrs Cho did have the information they were looking for, Mr Seong Gi Hun, lived not far from here, as a friend of his mother she was able to give the detective’s his address - after assurance that he was not in trouble and that they just needed to ask him some questions - she was also able to slip in that Mr Seong was also divorced, looking again at Ji Ah who politely chuckled.
As they walked away, Jun Ho joked that their next great investigation should be to find Ji Ah a husband as they have a long list of suspects. Ji Ah sarcastically laughed “haha Jun Ho you are so funny, we should get you on stage” rolling her eyes. Despite the teasing, she was glad to see her friend smiling again. The last few days had taken all the humor from him, she was glad to see that lighter side returning.
Approaching the alleys leading to Mr Seong’s apartment the rain seemed to fall heavier, almost oppressively. ‘Definitely a bad omen’ Ji Ah thought.
They saw a the back of a figure, swaying, heading toward the apartment. He had no umbrella and was getting soaked by the rain.
Jun Ho picked his pace up slightly, approaching the man “Seong Gi Hun?” He asked as the man turned to face him.
He looked awful Ji Ah thought, sad in the eyes and long wet hair dripping down onto his bruised face. In other circumstances Ji Ah would have considered him handsome.
“Yes” Gi Hun asked apprehensively looking first at Jun Ho and then Ji Ah who took a step closer.
Jun Ho flipped out his police badge, as did Ji Ah who came to stand beside Gi Hun, offering him shelter under her umbrella. He gave her indescribable look as his eyes roamed her face before turning his head back to Jun Ho.
“Decective Hwang Jun Ho and Mun Ji Ah, we are following up on report you made that the station” Jun Ho started “You said a group abducted people and make them play games. You also said that some of these people where killed” Jun Ho finished, stone faced.
Gi Hun looked slightly startled, like he didn’t believe anyone would follow up. Eyes darting slightly between the two detectives before settling back on Jun Ho “Oh, all that? Yeah, I just made that up” Gi Hun lied “Yeah, a story made up when I was drunk” he nodded trying to convince himself of his own lies.
Jun Ho remained stone faced. “They sent a card to my brother” he said, trying to remain unemotional “just like the one you had”
There - Ji Ah saw it - a stutter in Gi Hun’s facade. His face twitched and shoulders dropped. She sucked in a quiet breath, unable to believe he may be telling the truth, about the games, all of it.
“I just found it, I don’t know” Gi Hun continued to lie, trying to find away of of this situation, looking between the detectives he settled on the pretty one that wasn’t giving him a murderous look “I saw it on the street and just put in on my pocket” his eyes pleading with Ji Ah to just drop this conversation.
Jun Ho interjected, “Mr Seong, you can help me” his voice starting to wavier “I need to get him back” he felt his only hope in finding his brother beginning to fizzle away.
Ji Ah felt her heart shatter at the broken voice of her friend, his face full of desperation.
“Mr Seong” she started placing a calming hand on his jacketed forearm “please, help us. Any information you have will be use” she spoke softly and calmly, trying to persuade the panicked Gi Hun who looked ready to bolt at a moments notice.
Gi Hun stared at the small hand placed on his arm, thinking it’s been a long time since anyone has touched him with warmth. He takes a breath and closes his eyes, but it all comes flooding back to him, the body’s dropping, the sound of gunfire, his debts, his mother’s illness, losing his daughter. He realises he can’t, he cannot say anything.
Resigned, Gi Hun pulls his arm from the detectives hold, almost immediately missing the warmth. “Why would you think, that I would be useful to you or anybody else” his speaks sadly as he turns to walk away.
Jun Ho and Ji Ah watch him go, unmoving. Ji Ah tries go think of a way to get him to come back, to co-operate. If she is right, and he was telling the truth about the games all of it. That means his, In Ho’s and countless other lives are in danger.
Turning to Jun Ho to ask what he thought, she stopped when she saw that determined look in his eye, something that has she has only seen a handful of times, but normally meant he was going to get his way through hell or high water.
“Jun Ho” she asked tentatively
“We need to follow him” Jun Ho replied, his voice full of resolve.
Taking a moment to look at her friend, she allowed her eyes to roam his face, taking him his hardset mouth and focussed eye. ‘We are in this together’ she thought.
“Let’s go partner” she quipped taking lead and following Mr Seong into the night.
#hwang in ho#in ho x reader#hwang in ho x reader#gi hun#seong gi hun#hwang jun ho#squid games#squid game#squid games x reader#Gi Hun x reader
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TIKTOK videos you most likely to recreate/record with windbreaker guys
THIS ONE APPLIES TO ALL BOYS!! IMAGINE FILMING THEIR HONEST REACTION EHAAHHAHAHA
DOM KANG

you would just put all his silly photos in one video and will write how you love your boyfriend. also his vibes
SHELLY
dances dances dances!! i don’t know if you would be cameramen or she but i feel like she will post you on her page and you would post her on yours. also this. you can’t deny.

WOOIN
he throws snus i swear. also you proving that he is actual gentleman.

HARRY
would refuse to film tiktok so you just post this and write that it’s his vibes (it really is since he call dom monkey every time)

TJ
most underrated boyfriend materials i swear!! he would be up to all things you ask to. and he actually likes to film tiktoks, so it would be you guys!! you the cameramen. his silly videos is essential in your tiktok

JUHWAN
also underrated bf materials, he would be the one who would ask you to film tiktoks. also you would recreate this trend with him
NOAH
after that night with girls. you choose who is who hahahah

idk is it but low key owen vibes
SANGHO
he is not really into filming tiktoks, but he will film you (#1 cameramen🥹💍)and especially when you receive his gifts. you will send him tiktok edits of your couple caught by paparazzi. you filling car edits from his garage.

bonus
you, noah, harry and owen after night out, i had a variant that guy is owen having hangover and being sad over shelly, but now im not sure, so it’s all on your choice.
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Continuing off of this & my tags because I have a lot of thoughts on it: (under read-more for length, and because there's definitely a lot going on here that I'd imagine most don't want to read)
I do think it was one of our million cases of "exploring the horror of csa/the horrors of being a young girl in a toxic/abusive relationship who is clearly being manipulated, but it's written by a man who is clearly an incel at best and a pedophile at worst." I obviously hate SnU but I feel as sad seeing it as I do disgusted because it feels like such wasted potential. The plot itself really WAS good and incredibly interesting but .. I just feel like plots similar to the one in SnU ALWAYS, always without fail end up in the hands of men who try to write them with nuance and instead just make themselves creepy jackoff material. The re-release that censors and removes the weird cp shit on steam is obviously a good thing and a step in the right direction but it's just.. hard for me to look at it knowing how the original VN is to begin with (...and the fact it's still there, coupled with the fact every fan of SnU seems to PUSH for people to play the uncensored release).
+ I even do understand "oh she's not ACTUALLY a 14 yr old girl, she just looks like one!!" from a plotpoint. In fact? Works perfectly for a plot point - shows that the male protag sees a 14 yr old girl and instantly assumes "ok, a vulnerable person I can keep to myself." Shows her thought process in disguising herself as a human - by trying to pick the most defenseless type of human being she can think of. But it ends there for me. Absolutely no need to navigate that the way they did it's just fucking weird.
Remembering the time I kept seeing Saya no Uta on my dash and all I knew about it was that it was a fucked up gory VN with a cute anime girl so I pirated it and then it turned out to just be like. Actual literal cp. Why are people still talking about that game.
#long post#Long story short yeah interesting plot good ost good art but what the fuck was the rest of that#Makes me especially sad that the people I see crawling all over the game and enjoying it so much are literally just either#Guys who clearly enjoy it as weird jackoff material or girls who've experienced csa and are projecting onto it#And therefore not seeing it for what it really is (..it's cp)#I think the fanbase and how people interact with it showcase how much of a strange mixed bag the VN itself is.#Like it's trying to say something.. but it's falling short and looping back around into becoming what it tries to criticize.#Anyway I don't know how cohesive this all is. I definitely have a lot more to say about SNU but#I'm still trying to keep this relatively short#I think I'd need to go on for much longer to really hit the end of my point here
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oc moment 🤯🤯: sigge andersson lore
- swedish-american (?) & 19 years old (turning 20)
- birthday is jan 7th
- moved to america when he was 11 and retains a bit of an accent, most noticeable on words with v's
- one of Those Guys who claims to be a strong, nordic man (can't lift a 5 lb weight)
- metalhead, loves traditional second wave black metal, as well as raw black, folk black, and death metal - also really into dungeon synth, like grausamkeit... he's a b.s.o.d fanboy, unironically
- also likes mainstream metal, particularly megadeth, but is incredibly embarrassed about it and will never admit it - hides a megadeth shirt deep in his closet
- doesn't shower. like, genuinely does not shower. he has to be forced to shower by his parents when the smell becomes unbearable, usually once every month and a half
- when he DOES shower, he uses those 10-in-1 body washes that smell like emotions and concepts like "wrath" and "swagger"
APPEARANCE:
- long dirty blond hair; looks lighter in the sun, he swears he's a true blond
- hair is incredibly greasy - when he runs a hand through it, his fingers come back shining
- soulful brown eyes like a wet deer in the grass
- YELLOW TEETH... raw gums...
- wears a stretched, clunky septum occasionally (3mm to 4 mm)
- scrawny. no muscle to be seen, he is genuinely fragile and sad
- tall-ish, 5'9 (swears he's 6")
- nose is a bit hooked
- corpse paint design is blocky and squared off, like euronymous'
- occasionally wears those black witch hats (inspired by b.s.o.d...)
- typically seen in a handpainted band tee (typically grausamkeit or carpathian forest), loose black jeans and worn out combat boots (reaching about calf height)
- covers up acne and other insecurities (like his nose) with corpse paint, almost always seen with it unless at home
PERSONALITY, LORE & MANNERISMS:
- asocial, says it's by choice (lie)
- thinks no friends = trve kvlt
- lonely, of course, and WANTS friends but his interests and general standoffish demeanor put off others
- internally homophobic... refuses to admit his attraction to men, despite drooling over any man that looks at him for .5 seconds
- LOSER. chronic reddit user; downvotes everyone who doesn't echochamber his thoughts
- plays guitar. badly. knows one song (master of puppets by metallica) and brags about it constantly - knows nothing of music theory and says he doesn't need to know because tabs exist
- snus user and is really pretentious about it - "you SMOKE? so you want to ruin your lungs forever and smell like shit..." (while damaging his gums)
- is the type of person in tiktok comment sections to make suicide jokes under a vid of a happy couple
- autistic & bpd
- autism primarily manifests in "social awkwardness," lack of understanding of social cues, and intense special interests (metal); stims by headbanging
- bpd is primarily in unstable reactions towards others, impulsivity, cutting, suicidal ideation, and dependency in romantic relationships
- note: sigge has not been in any romantic relationships (besides a fake one when he was 11 - a girl asked him out as a joke and he brought her handpicked flowers for the next few days) - this is just how he would act IF in a legitimate romantic relationship
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TLDR: Black Knight and Bertram get to walk off being killed by Ike’s gaggle of latent homosexuality in between games, because reasons, but Petrine is forced to stay dead, she deserves justice! Also I go into some bullshit about her stats and Branded lore AND I have mathematical proof she’s more dommy than Nailah!
More below:
Now while I wouldn’t call myself the CEO of Petrine quite yet (still working on earning that title) I certainly would call myself a Petrine expert, and today I come to you with everyone’s favorite subjects; unit stats and headcanons for lore IS didn’t have time to actually finish.
Petrine’s stats in Path of Radiance (I’ll be using hardmode since the true ending basically confirms it as the “canon” difficulty) are incredibly standout, not just because she’s a fucking beast but also because they don’t make sense, at least on the surface.
Level:18
HP:43
STR:20
MAG:18
SKL:22
SPD:23
LCK:10
DEF:24
RES:19
(I wont be going over her CON since it’s essentially meaningless on a female character, iykyk but tldr IS has a real nasty habit of genderlocking a playable CON stat, Echidna who won the Binding Blade woman’s division is rendered useless in her starting chapter because her weapon is too heavy for her and the enemies she’s surrounded by double her to death because of it, she is a green unit, her surviving is mostly an rng check.)
So you might be noticing something here, why the actual fuck is a PALADIN a complete quality build between physical and magical stats?
(Besides IS wanting to give her a cool magic weapon of course, there are very few coincidences in Tellius, to such an insane degree that many of Radiant Dawn’s twists were figured out long before its release. The crumb trail of what is very likely Petrine cut content makes me sad.)
Here we dip ever so slightly into headcanons (I’ll try to avoid getting to deep into pseudo canon stuff) but the reasoning is almost certainly because of her brand (Tiger Tribe). Micaiah, a heron branded carrying Altina’s blood, can very notably cast magic without a tome (she also can cast dark/elder magic without consequence but thats not the point of this), the ability to cast spells you have a predisposed proficiency for without a tome is very likely not unique to her, rather what makes her special is the sheer power of the magic her body is capable of channeling.
Petrine’s weapon in Path of Radiance is the Flame Lance, it deals magical damage based on her abnormally high magic stat and is essentially a catalyst for fire anima combined with a weapon she’s comfortable using (S rank).
So it’s pretty likely Petrine can cast at least use some fire magic without a tome or other catalyst, but uses one for stronger spells to avoid the recoil on her body, and I just think that’s metal as fuck, like that shit’s fucking awesome.
(Which is why in Fire Emblem lore tomes break, they take on the spell’s recoil in place of your body, and also why Valentian mages are just built different and say fuck that. What likely differentiates Branded is that they can cast varying degrees of magic without suffering recoil to their body, in Micaiah’s case healing magic is incredibly straining so I like to think of Sacrifice more being her casting Nosferatu in reverse)
Nailah time; she has a husband, a Heron who she says is perfect for her and they are very cute together but theres something here of note. Heron’s (theres no info on the other Bird Laguz) canonically have hollow bird bones, I’m not kidding, Reyson breaks his hand punching Oliver in the face.
Reyson: I suffer more damage than my target.
Ike: What?!
Reyson: When I bashed Duke Tanas's face, he only suffered a bloody nose, but it cracked the bones in the back of my hand.
Ike: Holy.
Reyson: Indeed.
Ike: ...But it felt good, right?
Reyson: Oh, yeah.
Nailah is at the very least canonically capable of restraining her vicious Snu Snu to be gentle enough she won’t break her boytoy, which is REALLY fucking gentle, and while Petrine is probably also surprisingly healthy about kinky stuff (lets be real would she really consider it a “victory” if her partner didn’t want it?) I’m just saying even the strongest would prolly need a healer afterwards.
Also she would definitely put a collar on you, I know her constantly calling people dogs is censorship of her swearing her ass off in Japanese, but Japanese Petrine is probably also carrying some insane BDSM “lick my boots and hump my leg but I’m also viciously protective of you and really do care” vibes.
Also her tits are bigger than Nailah’s.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk/unhinged rant, please consider voting Petrine she is very pretty and deserves better than she got, and even though Nailah will prolly win all the way to first place I can at least hope it won’t be a one sided curbstomp.
If by some miracle Petrine comes out on top there will be raucous celebrations.
ima frame this post on my wall for posterity
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I love Inho and Gihun but for me, they’re an example much right person, wrong time… i can’t imagine a happy ending after season 2- I just don’t see how Gi-hun can forgive or forget Jung-bae’s death or all the deaths in the 2020 games which In-ho organised like Sang-woo or Sae-byok? Maybe if Gi-hun is brainwashed or if In-ho risks his life to stop the games, but otherwise it’ll be next to impossible… BUT oh my god, they are so compatible and would have been perfect if they had met in other circumstances!
Like if they met after In-ho’s games and Gi-hun’s divorce, they would still be compatible and In-ho may not have become the Frontman with the combination of Jun-ho and Gi-hun’s influence. And Gi-hun would be saved from financial doom and reckless spending by In-ho who would definitely stop Jung-bae’s negative influence, and help Gi-hun be a better dad for Ga-yeong and a better son for his mom. Like In-ho can use all of his evil tendencies for good like taking care of the loansharks, getting Gi-hun custody of his daughter or even paying off Sang-woo’s debt to get him to stay away from Gi-hun (like how Ga-yeong’s stepdad tried)…
Or even if Gi-hun, Sang-woo and In-ho grew up together, I think Sang-woo would have a strong competitor for Gi-hun’s love and In-ho would likely win out. Gi-hun has a low self-worth and wants someone to appreciate him and In-ho is so absolutely perfect at that! In-ho is all about family too and would go to extremes to take care of his loved ones. Sang-woo seems far more repressed about his feelings and more willing to risk his family’s security based on the way he rarely visited or called his mom and just liquidated all her life savings. I can see Sang-woo making subtle digs at Gi-hun’s intelligence while In-ho would be obnoxiously loud and proud about Gi-hun. Like if Sang-woo said one mean thing about Gi-hun, In-ho would probably punch him out… And especially when Sang-woo leaves for SNU and baby Jun-ho is there with In-ho and Gi-hun sees In-ho essentially being a dad to Jun-ho and taking care of him, he’d totally fall for In-ho… I can see them both taking Jun-ho out on dates and just naturally becoming a family…
Sigh, canon makes me so sad because all the wonderful people here and on AO3 made me aware of the potential of In-ho and Gi-hun… what are your thoughts?
i completely agree with you, anon!! 🫶
gihun and inho are absolutely right person, wrong time. i don't think gihun will forgive inho and, honestly, i don't want him to (at least in canon; fanfic is different). he doesn't deserve it and jungbae's death just sealed the deal on gihun's feelings.
if inho ends up sacrificing himself to end the games, it won't be because he cares about the players or about innocent people dying in his games or anything like that. it will be because junho and gihun are in danger or something of the sort. i said it once and i'll say it again, the same way darth vader sacrificed himself to save luke and not to aid the rebellion, inho will sacrifice himself to save junho and/or gihun and not to actually help the players.
gihun and inho meeting after gihun's divorce would have been amazing!! it's the sweet spot for canon inhun 💞😌 inho still has that darkness to him that we all love and gihun and junho can bring him back from the edge to a much lesser exteme than in canon, since he isn't front man yet. and gayeong having another stepdad would be so sweet, esp if gihun went to court and got shared custody of her.
about them growing up together, i agree in general, but i think sangwoo didnt visit his mom because he was in heavy debt and seeing her would force him to confront the fact that he is not the man people thought he was. we don't really have any evidence that he didnt see his mom before he began scamming his clients, just that he didnt visit gihun.
and on that i def agree with you that sangwoo would get upset over inho stealing gihun's attention and would make little digs at gihun's intelligence, like we see him do in canon. and sangwoo is so repressed he can't praise anyone, something gihun loves bc of his low self esteem and inho does it perfectly.
gihun, inho and junho becoming a little family 🤧🥹💖
#asks#yapping 4ever#squid game#seong gi-hun#hwang in-ho#inhun#457#ginho#hwang jun-ho#cho sang-woo#park jung-bae
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thoughts on nhl zyn/snus endemic?? everyone is entitled to do whatever they want but just curious if you had any thoughts to so many nhl players using some form of nic
It is sad. you wonder how many real teeth these guys will have after their careers haha. with the risks of loosing teeth on the ice and with nicotine. take mat for example wouldn’t doubt he’s addicted.
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I was playing Austin’s family, and he was having a sweet little date with his girlfriend, Malia, whom he’s been seeing for a few months now. They were being cute, but a little boring, so I went inside to see what the townsfolk were up to.
And I found Lucy dancing up a storm with Tyler!
(Lucy and Tyler are childhood besties from Lakeside Heights days.)
Now, this game isn’t smart enough to spawn couples out together, so I had to imagine they’d brought along their exceptionally nerdy spouses, who weren’t on the dance floor because they were probably sitting at the bar debating string theory or something.
MCCC > teleport sim
Now Maya and Dallas are here, too! And Lucy is out on a super fun double date. And this is exciting because Lucy’s last few stories have really been pretty lonely and sad. This girl deserves a babysitter and a night out.
And now she’s dreaming about how fun it would be to live closer to their friends, and her sister at SNU, and his cousin Natty, too. Tonight, she’ll be on Zillow the whole ride home, sending Dallas links to homes for sale in Sierra Nova and Copperdale and San Sequoia, and reports about how great the schools would be for their girls, and lists about how much there is to do in those areas. (Unlike the cold, dreary, lonely, Fort Hollow base.)
And even though the commute back to base for him will be harrowing, and he’s obligated to do it for at least two more years, Dallas would do anything to make his Lucy happy. He’ll call a real estate agent first thing Monday morning.
All that, and I wasn’t even supposed to be playing their households, lol!
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Scrolled across an oc question tiktok and couldnt help myself so i tried to answer it but fuck tiktok comments, those things are too tiny
The oc question was, "What part of their story had them tweaking like this?" And it was playing the I Am audio with some baller ass music
So of course here i am to answer with my oc Tazzy
Tw: gore, death, torture, fictional cat death [no cats were harmed in the making of this oc lore]
He was a good dad in his late 20's early 30's. Him and his wife were raising their daughter, who was around 7 at the time of The Incident, where he father "went missing" and i say "went missing" because the family thinkes he disappeared but hes actually DEAD!
Anyways, Tazzy ended up dying in the back of an arcade he would always take his daughter to. The guy who owned the shop was a psychopath or whatever the word is and would torture and kill the cats (strays or not) in the neighborhood, and wanted to move up from cats to people cus he didnt get excited from killing cats anymore. So he bashed in Tazzy's skull!
He then dragged his body onto a table, chopped it up like he would do with the cats, and threw him in a bag, and stuffed him in his (the owners) favorite machine. It was kind of a small machine but it was new so most the casing was for show and there was a lot of space inside the actual machine. There was already a cat in there, it was puma actually he found it almost dead on the side of the road as a kit and then raised it in a cage and killed it cus he thought it was funny. Anyways, it was his first kill, and the puma had already poltergeist-ed.
I have no personality or name yet for the puma so im just gunna call him poom.
Anyways a few years go by and Tazzy gains consciousness as a poltergeist because wtf that made him SO upset. Hed possess the machine to mess with or help the kids along in the game because that was the ONLY pass time a ghost has when they're stuck in a singular arcade machine.
Was gunna make it so the puma would occasionally posses the machine too but then i realized that actually doesnt make any sense so i didnt.
Anyways he continues on with his ghostly life until one day someone walks in who seem familiar. Its his kid, yay! She walks around the arcade and passes by the machine Tazzy is possessing. Shes not really interested in playing arcade games, it makes her too sad, so she just looks at them. As she passes by the machine tazzy is possessing, she hears it beep a "Hey! Wanna play?" In choppy words. Interfering with the game was just about all tazzy could do, but that also meant messing with all the sound effects the game gave off.
Havent figured out what type of game im gunna make it. Probably just gunna make one up.
Anyways she hears the machine talk and shes like "wtf? Did this arcade machine just fucking talk to me?" But she doesnt say it out loud cus theres other younger kids near by and shes like 14 and doesnt like cussing all that much but she just got the shit scared out of her so
So she walks over to the machine, plays on it, little does she know shes actually playing with her dad in the game but thats okay. Hes able to manipulate the game enough to get some comments out of the little game characters and they pique her interest. She leave at the end of the day and ends up coming back pretty often. Her mom gives her all the money she can to play the arcade games because shes just happy her daughter is spending her time in an arcade and not in her room depressed.
A few months and years go by and she still stops by regularly and tazzy has gained greater control of the machine. More kids and adults go missing through those years in the area around the arcade, and tazzy gains so poltergeist friends. They make a pact to not interfere too badly with the kids and their games and to occasionally start games for free cus fuck the owner and his money.
Shes in her early twenties now and aparently thats just the age the owner likes to target because whats better than snuffing out the light a person has worked all their Adolescence to gain, especially if they're traumatized? A person finally has freedom and their happy so he kills them cus he likes to see that little bit of hope they had go out.
Anyways the day comes when hes targeted tazzys daughter (the owner also knows thats tazzys daughter to hes extra excited) so he targets her and kidnaps her or sonething idk i havent gotten that into detail in that bit
Anyways, theres a struggle, she ends up in the main floor area of the arcade by trying to run away and he sees his daighter being hunted down so with all his poltergeisty powers he turns on his machine and scares the both of them, but trying to give his daughter a chance to escape. She tries, but the owner is faster, but you know what else is faster? A fucking poltergeist. He's been working with the pumas bones and his own bone for a while now to try and see if he could use the wires of the machine to hold the bones together and make a walking body because why not?
So he does that and rips out of the machine because of course it would destroy the machine, and the puma and tazzy both bit the fuck out of that guy because one poltergeist wasn't strong enough and in ghost form interspecies communication is easier than when alive so aliance time, yippee! (This is where the earlier mentioned audio would come into play because ofc hes tweaking about his kid gettingkilled right in front of him)
And the girl sees this and they are just going to town on biting this guy to BITS beause theyve had over a decade's worth of poltergeist practice to do this
So bro dies and the girls just like "oh fuck im next" and starts sceaming and crying in shock as she watched this thing continue to raid other non-possessed machines (because raiding another poltergeists machine would be rude ofc) for wires and what not to build a moving ish body.
And bro temporarily becomes the spaghetti monster that invades michael in fnaf, except he stays out of other peoples' bodies cus ew wtf?
So this poltergeist pair now has an interesting loking spaghetti body and can kind of talk to his kid now and tries doing so while backing away, back into the arcade machin he came from, trying to point out the machine cus she'd recognize it ofc. Probably says something along the lines of "[gargled noises meant to sound like daughters name], wanna play?" And other things he would make the machine voice with the chopped up words to his daughter and shes be like "oh my fucking god ive been playing video games with a ghost my entire life. What the fuck?" And then he'd say his name while pointing at him.
He'd probably also toss her his jawbone from his human like (dont worry its flesh and maggot and ew free, it is over a decade old, yk). And say something like "take, identify" or something and she'd take it and get it looked at and find out from ✨️dental records✨️ that it's her dads jawbone and she'd go through some legal trouble about the bone and find a way to get the blame off of her and onto the owner and tell the cops about how he tried to kill her.
And then she'd get her mom to buy the shop because her dads there and doesnt want his remains to get thrown away because they need to cremate or bury him and thats how tazzys wife finds out about the poltergeist thing.
They keep the police from finding the rest of tazzys body and everyone elses body cus cops are dumb and dont look in arcade machines so shes able to legally purchase the arcade store and shut it down to the open public.
And then they do research and stuff and make him and his little arcade friends bodies and turn them into animatronics but thats not for another like 2 decades when tazzys kid has kids and they help make their grandpa and his friends into a machine.
Yippee!
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Sergio Chapter six, pt 1
Han Seok stood outside of Jirupagi. He felt the need to explain for some reason. Mr. Hong and his paralegal had been nothing but kind to him the night before. They seemed to fight for "justice." Maybe he was also there to ask for help. Being a slave… being a slave was not a life he wanted to live. He was back in his homeland finally and now was his chance to seek solace.
He knocked briefly on the door before entering it. A young woman stood there raging at Mr. Hong, who looked at her impassively with a raised eyebrow. "Cha Young… we have guests. Come back later."
"I-" She sputtered. "I am your daughter, tell your "guest" to wait!"
"Not for long you won't be… Sergio, how can I help you?" The man turned a genuine smile to Han Seok and he bowed, smiling back. Han Seok walked to sit in front of the lawyer and gestured for a piece of paper. The man handed it to him and he nodded in thanks.
'I need a lawyer's help, Mr. Hong.' He wrote, underlining help for emphasis.
"Why? What can I help you with?" The man’s gentle face turns down in a frown and he leans forward in his chair.
"Dad!" They both ignore the woman as she works herself into another fury.
'I need to seek asylum in Korea.'
"I thought you were from Korea? You said you studied at SNU?"
'What do you know about human trafficking?' Han Seok asked him instead of answering.
Mr. Hong's eyes widen in shock and he takes a moment to breathe before answering him. 'Are you safe?' The man writes.
'No. Do not trust Vincenzo Cassano.' Han Seok warns. 'Shred this paper.'
"I think I can help, Mr. Cassano! Just a simple fender bender?" Han Seok gives a relieved smile and nods as he watches Mr. Hong shred the paper.
The two settle into a simple conversation with Mr. Nam joining to translate the KSL. The comfortable mood is ruined by the door opening. "Sergio, come." Vincenzo gives a tight smile to the others in the room, bowing his head. Han Seok leaps to his feet, bowing to the lawyer and paralegal.
"Sir?"
"We need to visit the women's correctional facility. You may wait outside."
"Yes, Sir."
Han Seok looks at the IPhone 11 Vincenzo had bought him. Technological advances never fail to amaze him. He types in his brother’s number, as he has many times before. He just doesn't understand why his brother sold him into slavery. He knows he was a bad brother. Took it too far with violence. Insinuated to his brother about crimes he'd committed. But if his brother was so scared he could have thrown him into a hospital for the criminally insane.
Han Seok never wants to proclaim his own innocence in the situation. He was a bad man. He deserved punishment. Did he deserve a lifetime as a slave to a Consigliere? He's repented. Lord has he. If he could go back and beg for Han Seo’s forgiveness he would. He sets the phone down to wipe away the tears streaming down his face. He deletes his brother's number from the search bar and instead turns to one of his phone games.
The knocks on the window are sharp and get him out of the trance Animal Crossing has put him in. He unlocks the door and steels himself for the hand sure to come flying his way. When it doesn't come, he turns to face his Master. He looks sad. Han Seok can't say the sight doesn't fill him with joy. "Sir?"
"Take me home. I'm hungry."
"Yes, Sir."
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