How We Feeling Ab Squid Game S3 Trailer???

so him.

this song with this man. omg.

Masterlist. . . all my published works :p

Let it happen - hwang in-ho x reader

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

Ghost BC

monolith: copia x witch!reader

glorious ovulation or something idk

happy to say i am FINALLY writing the next chapter of let it happen. LETS GOOOOOO

Monolith

copia x witch!reader

No matter what life you’d lived, you were always sentenced to a young death, dying at exactly twenty-five each time- no matter how you struggled to coax the curse, avoid what fate destined, death proved imminent, giving not a care to your sensitivity, leaving you to grapple with the predetermined destiny over and over again. Memories of past lives would surge in your brain, often around your teen years, inciting a wave of paranoia that would stretch to the last decade or so of your life- grasping at straws, skimming through every page of every book to find a solution, something to end this cruel cycle. Or maybe you yearned to find a justification to it, and you believed you did, in one life- perhaps beings of the earth just weren’t meant to wield the abilities you did, so the gods, or whomever was in charge, had to force their hand, leveling the grounds you treaded among mortals, whose mortalities outlasted you.

But you weren’t evil. Not a single bit. Every life you spent relentlessly in attempt to figure out something to help the next you to succumb to this looming curse, the promise of brutal demise weighing heavy on your shoulders. The pain of living each life thoroughly and having it torn from your grasp saddled your heart, all the people you’d grown fondness for never to be seen again and lost to the jaws of time, struck with heartache by your loss, but they were human enough to forget and recover from it, while you were stuck with memory upon memory of it all. Thus, a life of solitude crept upon you, isolating from everyone and anyone, though you craved nothing more than affection and love. It was a foolish and unrealistic yearning.

In your last life, you recalled a church-like building, and you emphasize like, because its aura completely differed from the holiness of a church, the only likeness between them the structure and grandiosity of it. The interior you’d never reached during your last life, a festering sickness overcoming your body in the last days of life, bones brittle and stomach shrunken. It was as if you were confined to that rotten bed as punishment for the discovery, the remainder of your days spent in utter agony- the hopefulness you had with each death diminishing there, but you’d returned like always, reviving that shred of light that still beamed, drawing you closer and closer.

So you stood feet away from the church, five years of your meager life to go, and you were keenly aware of how fast those years would pass by. It seemed a plentiful amount, but in reality, it couldn’t be further from it, and with those little years you had, you strived to finish your last life’s work. Feeling the same allure your past self burdened toward this place.

Shedding a sigh, you encroached on the land, surprisingly you felt welcomed rather than intrusive as you did on most properties. Witches weren’t often celebrated within society- being burned and stoned in old days, so the openness of this area must mean something. You hoped, at least, you didn’t want yourself to become stray and disappoint the you’s who rose before, all dying in various ways that only elicited a tremble as you pondered what awaited you.

Fingers curled around the door knocker, you gently hit the door a few times, briefly pausing, unsure if you should wait for an invitation or mosey on in, settling on the latter after no response. Guilt almost stemmed from your impoliteness, almost, you were years from dying and lacked another choice. Desperation clawed at your insides, the impending doom you’d felt for years now- and beyond that, millennia- never something you’d become accustomed to. It was normal, even for mortals, to fear death, so that supplied a sense of humanity.

The hallways were bare, yet you sensed the presence of many- filtering in the multitude of differing individuals. On the surface, it bore the guise of a church, but there was something more, carrying a supernatural element to it, although you were yet to witness any of it, sparing little time to admire the insides and seeking someone to speak with, striding further along the chamber that echoed your footsteps.

“Do you require assistance, my child?” Hinged with an accent, a voice garnered your attention, your body moving to direct your focus to the male. You weren’t certain if you should divulge everything, so you only responded in approval, conflicting thoughts consuming your mind- to do this, or to do that- analyzing the crimson drapes he donned, an ornate, inverted cross catching your eyes.

“And what is it that troubles you?” He pressed gently, gaze analytical as he studied your features- as if he could predict the torment you’re fated to suffer, you almost snorted, the predicament you were in far above comprehension to even you. That hopelessness swirled you, thousands of years without resolution, and you really believed this would help…? But if you sat and did nothing that would result in a wasted life as well.

“A library,” You blurted out, meeting his eyes unflinching, his striking and whitened eye hammering no cowardice into you as it might other humans. “Do you have any books or knowledge of witchcraft?”

The answer appeared to invoke surprise and intrigue simultaneously, a question he’d perhaps never been asked in his lifetime. “I’m certain we do, I’d simply have to fish it from the library for you. May I ask why you’re interested in this?”

You glanced to the floor, mustering a response. If they had books of it, surely they weren’t to scrutinize- additionally, past you located this place, there had to be something truly special about it for them to be harshly punished by the gods, a punishment to ensure you could make no escape from the bounds of fate. “I’m a witch,” You finally answered, eyes fluttering closed briefly as you awaited a response.

“Ah, uh, I see, I see, my child, I will fetch those books for you then,” You couldn’t decipher whether his tone held disbelief or interest- maybe both?- but nonetheless, he scampered away to retrieve the books you requested, and you were satisfied with that.

You began frequenting that church more, learning more about its inner workings and inhabitants, the days whisking away into months, and you felt the crushing weight of fate, if only you had more time, if only it didn’t slip through your fingers. And you still found yourself finding nothing to aid your cause, stress accumulating fast.

After months of nothing, you settled in the confessional at the church, thinking it may help to relieve yourself of the ever looming deadline, the anxiety of it, Cardinal on the other side, ever so curious as to what’s troubled you to the point of needing a confessional. You’d grown closer these months, but there remained a distance between you, the reasoning for which unbeknownst to him, and you grappled having to eventually leave it all behind. Despite the many you’s before you, you’d grown fond of this man, letting yourself feel again after centuries. The emotion was pleasant, budding sensations rising within you, but you despised the vision of dying and having to restart, leeching off of him for your own selfish wants, that you knew would only have one ending.

“What’s been troubling you, mia cara?” His soothing voice traveled through the wood separating you, his voice, albeit prompt, laced with concern. It made your heart ache, a painful throb that shallowed your breaths, and you swallowed the thickness in your throat, forcing the words from your throat.

“I’m.. gonna die. I don’t know how to stop it,” You exhaled, the silence in that box suffocating.

And perhaps it was coping, or he didn’t understand, but he responded a beat of silence later, “We all die, cara. It’s.. a frightening subject, but it helps you to appreciate the things in your life more.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you left the conversation at that, not clarifying what you’d meant, for fear of ruining the closeness you shared- or maybe to pretend everything was normal, for once in your many lifetimes. It felt strangely joyful graced by his presence, demonstrating your abilities and basking in the moment, taking breaks from your strenuous search to do leisurely things- you’d tell yourself you would catch up on it later, but really, would you?- in the end, it didn’t matter as long as you were with him. You couldn’t surrender that, not yet.

His touch was warm, so differing to the coldness you’d grown used to, the warmth he radiated addicting, not only in his touch but his personality- so kind and caring, gentle even if his background made it appear otherwise, handling you like prized porcelain, looking to you in admiration, and caressing you as if you’d break at the slightest pressure. You hadn’t experienced such longing before, the yearning brimming your being, sinking its teeth into you- and that was dangerous.

One day, a year since your first meeting, you two sat in the shadow of a tree, a book splayed in your palms, the pages yellowed and corners nibbled away at by the mice nesting in the labyrinth of the walls. Aged, a book hardly picked from the many, but you’d discovered it when you ambled into the library, and now you sat beside the Cardinal, rather close, elbows grazing one another. If you weren’t absorbed by flipping the pages, you might’ve held his hand- or at least wanted to.

“You’re always reading, always studying,” He spoke, accent tinged voice cutting through the calm breeze, you analyzed the words on each page, scanning for any mention of curses- he watched you, examining the intricate sketches on the pages, things he could hardly understand, but he was enamored by how concentrated your stare was. “I admire that. Your, uh, strong will, and capacity to learn. You are truly magnifica. Un'opera d'arte, addirittura.”

“I think highly of you as well, Cardinal,” You admitted, eyes still trained on the page, half-focused on feebly translating the latin inscribed page. “You’re truly… une bouffée d'air frais.”

“French? Smart girl,” He complimented, the smile he flashed melting your insides, your focus crumbling ever so slowly- blindsided by emotions, rather than your goal. “When did you learn?”

You hummed absentmindedly, recalling the memories of your past, tracing all the way back to the conception of the American Revolution. Being a medic, experiencing the war’s brutality firsthand, you’d learned French from the allies- as well, being alive amidst so many eras of time, you were bound to pick up a few languages.

“I had some friends who spoke it,” You responded, narrowed eyes facing the page, but you spared him a glance and a wistful smile. “I can teach you sometime. Would you be open to that, Cardinal?”

“Of course, mia cara. Tutto per sentire la tua voce,” You couldn’t understand his words, but you could sense the meaning behind them, heart thumping in your ears. You felt it and were aware he could too.

The next year your bones could predict the sickness filtering into them, just a tad bit weaker than they’d been the year prior, subtle but you realized it, and if you were to receive cruel punishment for basking in the company of your adored, then you would accept it. You still looked for an answer, but the chances of that dwindled by the day, your goal being nearly sidetracked entirely. But you couldn’t ignore it, or hide it, forever. By the third year, your symptoms worsened, little by little, and were delving into bodily signs- blood spilling from your mouth, climbing up your throat, heeding a deadly warning. And so you finally decided to repent, for your selfish desires, settling inside that confessional once again with your Cardinal just inches away, across the panel of wood. Long before this, he’d noticed something was wrong- you just swayed him otherwise, dismissing his concern, but you couldn’t be greedy any longer. You couldn’t brush off his feelings in place of your own. So here you were, prepared to truly confess.

“Copia,” Typically, you’d use his proper title in these circumstances, but you were serious. Very serious. And that frightened him, mind spinning with outlandish ideas, pointing toward the worst outcome possible, and your tone confirmed that. But he didn’t want to believe that. “I’m gonna die… and I really don’t know how to stop it.”

His heart cracked hearing that, your tone accepting and not necessarily sad- but very disappointed, regretful. “Tell me more, cara, what do you mean?” He nearly pleaded, heart thudding, a pit forming in his stomach.

“I’ve died so many times. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of times. It’s a cruel cycle, I guess a curse. I’ve tried finding everything I can in all of the lives I’ve lived, and it’s never enough,” You confided, toying with your fingers to distract your mind. “I have two years left. Always bound to die young, at twenty-five. And I should have told you, that day we met. It was selfish of me to put you through such pain.”

“Don’t say that, amore mio,” Copia rejected, his legs trembling, running a frenzied hand through his hair, nerves frayed and running wild, this admission worse than what even he imagined. “We still have time to figure this out, we can talk to my brothers, surely they have wisdom to share. There has to be something we can do.”

“Copia, please don’t be sad over me,” You murmur, head leaned against the wood, listening to the little movements he made. “I’m already dying, I’m sick, I’m being punished for my time spent here. But I want you to know I don’t regret any of it, truly you have been a breath of fresh air, so kind and loving, and I haven’t felt that way in so, so long. I still have two years left, but I can’t imagine my body will be in the best shape.”

You heard the door on the other side creak open, and his footsteps, your stomach twisting, at the thought of his abandonment. You couldn’t blame him if that’s what he’d chose to do, you’d lied from the start and subjected him to the same amount of pain you were experiencing.

But then your door opened abruptly, arms embracing you and a head falling into your lap, the sniffles evident, and your heart shattered at the sight, cradling his head in your hands, a few tears streaking your own face. Your hands traced under his jaw, tilting his chin up, so he could face you. Thumbs glided across his cheeks, wiping the tears from his face, the paint around his eyes smearing from the movement. You admired his features briefly, pressing a kiss onto his forehead.

“I’ll find you in my next life, Copia. I promise. We still have time it’s just, not the best conditions. It’s too late for my body this time, but it won’t be for the next,” You vowed, nose brushing with his. “My only question; are you… willing to wait? I’d.. understand if not, it’s a painful slew of emotion.”

“Amore mio, I would wait the rest of my life if it meant seeing you for just a second,” He held your face, thumb tracing your cheek fondly. His eyes were reddened, and it brought you pain to think about how he’d fare with you gone- and how you’d done this to him. Dragged him down into the pits to accompany you. He lifted his pinky, lightening the mood using the childish gesture, but his face remained somber, a smile he showed to make you feel at ease. “Pinky swear?”

Intertwining your pinkies, you mustered a small smile. “Pinky swear.”

When the fifth year arrived, and your twenty-fifth birthday subsequently, your body was eager in finally succumbing to death, and Copia tugged you close to his heart, shattering as the warmth dwindled from your body, skin greying, but you were free of the suffering that kept you captive- and that helped a little in breaking the shackles of grief. His heart mourned, and he delved into studies, flipping through every page of every book, talking to anyone who withheld necessary knowledge- all in preparation for your inevitable return. He just wasn’t certain how long it would take to see you again, but he lived by his declaration, dedicating all of his time to you, your memory.

He’d taken the roles of his predecessors before you’d returned, and it worried him, a part of him unsure if you would even want to crawl back into his arms, after all, age was catching up to him- a decade or two passing in his wait. But he remained as loyal as he’d been, yearning to see your face just one last time, he even found himself praying to Satan more frequently, pleading him to lead you back, back into this church, back into his grasp; where he would hold you and never let go, not again. It was excruciating being without you, the memories of you so long ago now, yet fresh in his mind, at the forefront of it.

He’d strayed to his room, stress riddling his bones and drowning them in fatigue, the touring and loss of partnership taking its toll as it would anyone. He sat at a table, forcing himself to peel his eyes through another old book, eyes lidded from the tiredness threatening to consume his being. Working until his shoulders were stiff, back was throbbing in pain, his head eventually colliding against the plush of his arm, sleep winning this battle.

The next morning the sound of his game console stirred him awake, grumbling Italian curses under his breath at the interruption. His blankets were draped across his body, the plush feel of his bed beneath him, a contrast to the hard desk he’d fallen asleep on- rubbing his eyes using the back of his hands, to wake himself up. Another day, more work to be completed, but firstly, he’d have to figure out who was in his room, who’d moved him so carefully it didn’t jolt him awake.

And when his eyes finally focused, the morning bleariness ebbing, he witnessed locks of h/c hair, so similar to yours. He gave his eyes another rub, scared this vision was just a symptom of overexertion. But no, they were still there, the pressing of buttons loudly evident, their head lulling side to side as they maneuvered whatever game they were playing. Only to see if it really was you- or just some lookalike. The bed echoed a soft creak as he stood to his feet, slowly approaching the figure. And at the noise, their head turned back, a game over screen flashing vibrantly on the box tv.

“Mia cara,” Left his lips, expression blank, yet brimming with so much unspoken emotion simultaneously. You ditched the controller on the sofa, practically running into his arms to embrace him, face nuzzled into the fabric of his shirt, memorizing the scent you’d missed oh so much. “It’s really you,” Copia’s hands were firm, clinging to you as if you’d vanish and never return.

“It is me, I’m finally back like I promised I would be,” You murmured, voice a bit muffled from your face buried into his chest. The moment you’d waited and longed for. You stared up at him, cupping his face in your palms, a small frown on your features. His hands traveled to your forearms, thumb gliding across the skin, a gentle caress. “My love, you look so tired and stressed. I was worried how you’d be when I’d gone, I’ve never wanted you to treat yourself so strictly and harshly. You, too, deserve to live a life of fulfillment and happiness.”

“Is there a.. such thing as fulfillment and happiness without you by my side? I waited for the day I could see you again, I did all of my research, just to make sure when you’d return, you would be back for good,” His eyes pierced yours, hand gliding to yours and pulling them from his face, leading you to the rustled bed. “Tell me; how are you? Did anything I’ve done help?”

“Copia,” You exhaled, prepared to tell him all that’d occurred in your time apart. “When I died, it was black for a while. Nothingness. I wasn’t even truly aware of my own existence. But a voice called to me,” Your hands were enveloped by his, scooting closer, knees brushing together. “And he had sympathy on my pitied life- lives. He didn’t agree with the gods above casting me into this decided fate, my punishment for being… simply different. So he allowed me to return to life under his guidance, and lead me right back to you. He told me about you, how you’d pleaded so much for my sake, and I’m eternally grateful for all you’ve done for me. All you’ve surrendered just to be with me.”

“And I would do it again in a heartbeat, mia cara,” His arms encased you, smothering you in the warmth you’ve craved for a millennia. “I’ve longed to have you back in my arms, to feel the warmth of your body as it left me so cold. Satan has heard my prayers, seen my yearning, and returned you to me.”

“I’ve missed you so dearly. You made me feel warm even when I went cold,” You confessed, soaking in the affection you were receiving so boisterously, not been able to feel truly at ease until Satan’s voice coaxed you from the abyss that heavens damned you to. Your fingers trailed down his spine, up and down, a repetitive, comforting motion. “Tell me, what has happened here while I’ve been gone? What have you been up to?”

He smiled, a lopsided one, your stomach doing somersaults. You were happy, for once, reclaiming all the pain you’d experienced, and letting yourself bask in the afterglow of this un-realness. “Well, I’m Papa, now,” He mentioned, fingers coiling around yours. “I’ve been touring with the ghouls, you know? I’m pretty popular these days actually.”

“I’m glad to hear that, seems you’re finally getting the recognition you deserve,” You planted a soft kiss on his nose, content to be in his presence again, sending a glance toward the tv screen flashing red lettering. “I couldn’t really figure the game out… The controls are… confusing.”

“Let me teach you then.”

-

just a lil one shot pooks

sorry it cuts off abruptly i wasn’t sure how to end it 🧐

i need good copia fics 💔💔

The Last Mask (08)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 08 - Distance

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 09

PREV : Chapter 07

The dormitory buzzed with the sounds of light chatter and footsteps as players moved about, their voices mingling in an uneasy hum. You lay on your bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, eyes closed in a futile attempt to block it all out. Sleep was your goal, to escape the heavy thoughts weighing on your mind, even if just until tomorrow.

The faint voice of a guard announcing that dinner would soon be distributed echoed in the background, breaking through your quiet cocoon. Then, the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears. You didn’t bother to open your eyes.

“[Your name], are you okay?” Dae-ho’s familiar voice called gently.

You kept your eyes shut. “I’m okay.”

Dae-ho sighed as well, the sound carrying his frustration. “I’m disappointed too. Jung-bae voting for O? I didn’t see that coming. I felt like screaming, ‘Sir, what are you thinking?’ at him. He agreed with us to vote for going back home just moments before the vote.”

“It can’t be helped,” another voice chimed in. You recognized it immediately as Young-il. It seemed Dae-ho wasn’t the only one who had come to check on you. Keeping your eyes closed, you listened as Young-il added, “People tend to change their minds once they’re standing at the voting counter.”

“Yeah, in a way, I kind of understood him. Because I felt that way too by the counter,” Dae-ho agreed.

A softer voice joined the conversation.

“Big sis, are you okay?” Jun-hee asked.

You finally opened your eyes, taking in the sight of Dae-ho and Jun-hee standing on the right side of your bed while Young-il lingered quietly on the left.

Turning your gaze to Jun-hee, you offered her a faint but reassuring smile. “I’m okay.”

“And we have a pregnant lady too,” Dae-ho continued, picking up where he left off. “She shouldn’t be here any longer.”

He leaned against the pillar of your bunk bed, sighing heavily. “I understood him but… what was Jung-bae thinking?”

The weight on your bed shifted slightly. You glanced down to see Young-il sitting on your bed at the far corner near your feet. His calm demeanor radiated reassurance as he addressed Dae-ho. “There’s no use thinking about it now. The votes are done. Let’s focus on staying together and winning the game again tomorrow.”

The three of them glanced in the same direction, momentarily distracted. You were about to close your eyes again when Dae-ho straightened up, his usual energy returning as he turned to you.

“Everyone is lining up to get dinner. Come on,” he said.

You shifted onto your side, pulling the blanket closer. “You guys go on ahead. I’m too tired right now.”

Dae-ho frowned, his tone firm. “You can’t sleep on an empty stomach. You need to eat. We did the hexathlon for who knows how long and didn’t even get breakfast. You must be starving, so come on.”

“But I’m so tired,” you admitted, your voice muffled against the pillow. “I just want to rest before the next game.”

“Don’t be like that,” he urged. “You’ll end up weak and all skinny tomorrow.”

A brief silence fell before you quipped, “I’m trying to go on a diet anyway, so it’s fine.”

Dae-ho scoffed, waving off your excuse. “Haih, you look beautiful already. Now get up-”

“It’s okay,” Young-il’s calm voice interrupted unexpectedly. “You two go on ahead. The queues are getting long. I’ll persuade her.”

The sound of retreating footsteps followed as Dae-ho and Jun-hee headed off toward the dinner queues. The dormitory buzzed with chatter and movement, but your focus remained on the quiet presence sitting at the edge of your bed.

“You really should eat,” he said after a moment, his tone gentle. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

You sighed, not turning to face him. “I’m just so done to even think about food. I wanted to go home really bad but we were outvoted.”

There was a pause before the bed shifted as Young-il stood up. His footsteps faded into the background, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the strange ache in your chest – a pang of something like abandonment. By him.

You immediately shook off the thought. It wasn’t his fault. You were the one adamant about not eating, and he had respected your decision. You had no right to feel upset, and you certainly couldn’t blame him for the fact that you had a crush on him.

Maybe he just saw you as a friend. Someone to look out for, like Jun-hee. Nothing more. It was your own fault for letting your feelings get in the way, for reading into his kind gestures as something more than they were.

You tried to tune out the chatter and bustle of the dormitory, sinking into the quiet within your mind. For a fleeting moment, you felt yourself drifting close to sleep.

Then his voice broke through the haze. “[Your name].”

Your eyes fluttered open, the sting of fatigue making them ache. You turned your head and saw Young-il standing by your bed. In his hands, he held the evening’s dinner: a round bun and a small carton of milk.

You frowned, confusion overtaking your grogginess. You had thought he left for good after respecting your persistence.

Resting your cheek against the pillow, you mumbled, “I don’t want to eat your dinner. Don’t worry about me.”

“It’s not mine,” he said, his tone even. “It’s yours.”

Your gaze shifted to the food in his hands. He held two sets of the dinner: two buns and two cartons of milk. Surprise overtook you as you sat up slowly, your blanket slipping down. “You got two?”

“I took another set on your behalf,” he admitted, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Your eyes widened. “We can do that?”

His smile grew, and there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t.”

You blinked, completely perplexed. “Then how did you get two?”

He extended the dinner toward you again, waiting patiently.

“I know what to say to the guards. My line of work taught me how,” he said simply, leaving the specifics a mystery.

You stared at him, caught between disbelief and reluctant admiration, before reaching out to take the meal he had gone out of his way to bring you.

“Now, come,” Young-il said, gesturing toward the corner where you always hung out with Gi-hun and the others. “Let’s sit with the others.”

You glanced down at the bun and carton of milk in your hands before nodding. As you got up from the bed, you spoke to him, “But is this really all we’re getting for dinner? I thought it’d be as much as yesterday’s lunch.”

Walking side by side toward the corner, Young-il replied, “It’s a way to weaken the players and increase eliminations.”

You turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you saying the longer we stay here, the less food we’ll get?”

Young-il met your gaze, his expression thoughtful. “It looks that way. Yesterday, we had a bountiful lunch. Tonight, it’s just a bun. The pattern isn’t hard to see.”

You sighed in frustration, the weight of his words settling in. “That makes it even more important to leave this place as soon as possible.”

Reaching the corner, you were greeted enthusiastically by Dae-ho. “You two, come sit down!”

Gi-hun had sat at his usual spot at the far end, and you settled down beside him. Young-il took the place on your other side. Dae-ho and Jun-hee were already seated on the lower steps in front of you both, their postures relaxed.

You glanced around and noticed that your group was missing one member – Jung-bae. A small distance away, you spotted him tucked between the bunk beds as though he was deliberately hiding.

You assumed he felt guilty for voting O, isolating himself from the group out of shame.

You and Young-il began eating your buns in silence. Everyone in your group was eating, except for Gi-hun. His posture – legs wide, arms resting heavily on his knees – spoke volumes about his disappointment over the recent voting results.

A loud sigh from Dae-ho broke the quiet. He stared at Jung-bae’s back for a moment, chewing on his bun, before calling out to him with the familiar hyungnim honorific. “Jung-bae!”

Meanwhile, you sighed at the meager dinner, placing your left elbow on your knee and resting your forehead against your palm. Your right hand held the bun, and you murmured, “Just this bun alone won’t be enough.”

Dae-ho suddenly stood and strode over to Jung-bae. “Hey, just come back here.”

“No, no, I’m good here,” Jung-bae replied, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, come on,” Dae-ho said, grasping his arm firmly. He pulled Jung-bae to his feet and dragged him back to the group. “You should’ve gone farther away, then. It bugs me seeing you sitting there all pathetic.”

Jung-bae froze when they reached the group. His eyes darted between the three most visibly stressed members of the group – Gi-hun with his somber stance, you with your hand still resting on your face, and Young-il sitting with his legs spread, elbows on his knees, chewing silently. None of you looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” Jung-bae said, fidgeting nervously with his milk carton. “Jun-hee, [Your name], Young-il, I’m sorry. Gi-hun, I’m sorry.”

When no one responded, he continued. “I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I’ll be able to settle my debt. So-”

“Jung-bae,” Young-il interrupted, his tone calm. “You of all people shouldn’t have done it. It’s not twice as righteous.”

Young-il’s comment was a pointed reference to the meaning of Jung-bae’s name. You removed your hand from your face, took a bite of the bun, and stayed quiet.

Young-il sighed, glancing briefly at the others before adding, “But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted.”

“Right?” Jung-bae said quickly, leaning toward Young-il with a glimmer of relief. “It’s not entirely my fault.”

Dae-ho placed a hand on Jung-bae’s shoulder, his tone lighter now. “Alright, to be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn’t enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game.”

Jung-bae’s face lit up with sudden relief, and before anyone could react, he lunged forward and hugged Dae-ho head-on. Startled, Dae-ho awkwardly tried to push him away.

“You did?” Jung-bae exclaimed.

“I said I get it,” Dae-ho replied, finally managing to pry himself free.

Jung-bae turned to Young-il, sighing deeply.

“Thank you for understanding,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. He settled on the lower staircase next to Young-il and continued, “But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn’t we? If we stick together one more time, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

He turned toward Jun-hee, his voice brimming with confidence. “Jun-hee, I’ll make sure we survive the next game-”

“The next game?”

All of you froze and looked at Gi-hun. His tone was dark. “In the next game, we might have to kill each other.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. You stared at him, horrified. Could it really come to that? Could there be games where you’d have to compete against your friends? The thought made your stomach churn. You’d barely eaten, and now even the bun in your hand felt like a weight.

Young-il’s calm voice broke the silence. “Gi-hun, that’s a bit much. There’s nothing we can do now, so let’s try to stay positive.”

Despite his attempt to ease the tension, Jung-bae had gone pale as well. He swallowed nervously, his hands fidgeting with his milk carton.

Young-il continued, his voice steady, “We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again.”

But Gi-hun’s words lingered, casting a shadow over the group. Everyone, including you, sat in heavy silence, lost in their thoughts. The idea of being pitted against your teammates felt unbearable. Your appetite vanished completely, and the bun in your hand now seemed like an impossible task to finish.

Could Gi-hun have experienced such a game in his previous run? Had he been forced to turn on a friend here? The questions swirled in your mind, filling you with dread.

Then you felt it – a hand gently resting on your knee. Startled, you looked down and saw Young-il’s hand. When you glanced up at him, his expression was warm and reassuring. He gave you a small nod toward your unfinished bun and said softly, “Eat it whole. Let’s do our best again tomorrow.”

Young-il withdrew his hand from your knee and held out his milk carton to Jun-hee. “Here, Jun-hee. You can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game.”

Jun-hee hesitated. “No, it’s okay.”

“Take it,” Young-il insisted gently. “I don’t drink plain milk.”

After a moment, Jun-hee finally accepted the milk, though her reluctance was still evident. You couldn’t help but smile warmly at the gesture. The way Young-il looked after Jun-hee was heartwarming. He must’ve been a good husband, you thought.

“Thank you,” Jun-hee said softly.

Jung-bae suddenly held out his bun to her. “Have my bread too. I don’t deserve to eat.”

Dae-ho immediately pointed at Jung-bae’s milk. “I’ll take your milk then.”

Jung-bae shot him a pointed stare, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and annoyance.

You had just exited the women’s restrooms and stepped back into the dormitory when you saw them. Lingering near the door that connected the restroom to the dormitory stood Lee Min-jae and his two friends.

Min-jae noticed you immediately and waved. You hesitated for a moment before offering a small, uncertain wave in return. Hoping to avoid further interaction, you continued toward the corner where the rest of your group was seated.

However, your heart sank when Min-jae and his friends moved deliberately to block your path. The dormitory was vast, filled with hundreds of players, so you didn’t feel afraid. Still, you silently hoped they wouldn’t press you again.

Min-jae greeted you with a bright smile. “Hey there. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh,” you replied, feigning innocence. “Hi, Min-jae.”

He stepped slightly closer, his tone friendly. “So, are you free to hang out with us now? We’ve got a spot over there.”

He paused, gesturing vaguely toward a corner of the dormitory where his group had set up.

You hesitated, searching for a way out without offending him. “I… uh, I need to get back to my group first. They’re waiting for me.”

Min-jae’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. “It’ll just be for a little while. You can catch up with them later. Come on, I just want to get to know you better in a private spot.”

“I… I don’t know. I really should-”

Min-jae’s tone grew firmer, though he kept up his friendly demeanor. “Don’t be like that. Just for a bit. It’s just us hanging out. No harm, right?”

Min-jae’s friends were watching you intently, though their expressions remained neutral. You forced a polite smile, knowing that one wrong word or tone could create a vengeful enemy in this precarious game.

You said carefully. “Maybe later. I just need to check on my group first.”

But Min-jae’s grin didn’t waver. If anything, it grew more hardened and insistent as he stepped closer to you. “Please? Just a quick chat with us. You’ve been hanging out with those uncles all day. Switch it up for a bit.”

Before you could respond, one of his friends – the tall man with number 277 – joined in. “Yeah, come on. We’re not asking for much. Just a little time to get to know you better.”

“Exactly,” chimed in the other friend, player 304. “It’s not like we’re asking you to stay forever. Just stop by. We’ve got a good spot over there.”

Their persistence made your chest tighten. You forced another smile, trying to remain composed. “I appreciate the offer, but really, I need to get back. Maybe another time.”

“Why not now?” Min-jae pressed, his tone still friendly.

As you searched for another polite excuse, a cold, steady voice cut through the conversation.

“She said no.”

You turned quickly, your eyes landing on Young-il. He was striding toward you. His gaze was fixed on Min-jae, sharp and unyielding. Although his expression seemed calm, a quiet intensity simmered beneath the surface. The restrained fury in his eyes made you speechless. It’s like he was ready to act the moment it became necessary.

Min-jae’s smile faltered slightly, though he tried to recover. “Oh, hey. We just want to have a chat with her. It's okay, right?”

Young-il moved deliberately, stepping between you and Min-jae with an air of quiet authority. His back faced you, shielding you from them. Though his expression remained calm, there was a palpable edge to his presence that made the air feel heavier.

“You’re pressuring her,” he said evenly, his voice carrying a subtle warning. “That’s not how conversations work.”

Silence settled over the group like a heavy weight. Min-jae’s friends exchanged uncertain glances, their earlier confidence clearly shaken.

You couldn’t help but stare at Young-il’s broad shoulders, struck by the way he carried himself. He didn’t need to raise his voice or show aggression; the calm intensity in his posture spoke volumes.

Min-jae hesitated, his expression flickering between defiance and calculation, before forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. With a mock gesture of surrender, he raised his hands and said, “Alright, alright. I get it. I apologize. I didn’t realize I was being forceful.”

His attempt to glance past Young-il toward you betrayed his unease, though. He called your name softly, adding, “Sorry about that.”

Young-il held his gaze, the silence stretching as he stared at Min-jae with deliberate calm. Then, with a slight turn of his head, his expression softened as he looked at you. He gestured subtly, his voice steady. “Let’s go.”

You followed Young-il as he led the way back to the corner where your group had gathered. His stride was steady, and though he didn’t say anything, his presence alone made you feel a little more at ease. You glanced back briefly to check if Min-jae and his friends were following, but they were nowhere in sight, already lost in the dormitory’s usual buzz of activity.

Just as the two of you were about to reach your group, Young-il gently grasped your forearm, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

You nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”

His gaze lingered on you, his tone shifting slightly as he asked, “How does he know your name?”

There was an edge to his words, though it didn’t feel like it was directed at you.

“He asked during the voting earlier,” you explained simply. “We were in the crowd, and he came over and introduced himself.”

Young-il’s eyes studied yours, moving from your left eye to your right, then briefly to your lips. You froze under the intensity of his gaze, unsure of what to make of it. After a few seconds that felt much longer, his focus shifted back to your left eye.

He finally lowered his gaze and said firmly, “If those boys bother you again, tell me.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. His gesture sent a wave of warmth through you, and you felt that familiar flutter in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach. He is really worried about you.

But even as you stood there, you couldn’t forget the fact that he was married. As close as you two had become, he’d never once mentioned it to you.

You averted your gaze, creating a small but deliberate space between you and Young-il.

“Thanks, but don’t worry. I can take care of myself,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. The pause lingered, and though you didn’t look his way, you could feel his confusion, as if he was trying to make sense of your sudden distance. Without waiting for a reply, you joined the group, sliding into the spot next to Jun-hee. Behind you, Young-il remained standing, silent and likely still perplexed.

As the group fell into casual conversation, you focused on Jun-hee, Jung-bae and Dae-ho, purposefully keeping your interactions away from Young-il. Whenever he made a comment directed at you or tried to reassure you about something, you responded with a polite smile but didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, you turned your attention to someone else, engaging them in light talk to avoid any further connection.

This is for the best. For you, for him, and for his wife.

“Lights out in ten minutes,” the announcer informed, the voice echoing through the dormitory. “Please prepare for bedtime.”

Your group was in the middle of executing Gi-hun’s plan. The idea was to claim four beds in one spot to create a secure sleeping area underneath the beds and on the floor between them. Everyone had agreed to the plan, though not without a few questions.

The men were handling the heavier tasks, carrying and arranging the mattresses and securing the area, while you and Jun-hee carried pillows and blankets, standing off to the side as they worked.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there,” Jung-bae said, his tone doubtful.

Gi-hun explained, “Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.”

Dae-ho, crouching beside Jun-hee, looked over with wide eyes. “What? Who?”

Meanwhile, Young-il approached you and gestured for the pillows and blankets in your arms. You handed them to him one by one, watching as he placed them on the mattresses.

“The prize money still goes up if we kill each other,” Gi-hun continued. “It’s part of the game they designed.”

Young-il, now standing after arranging a mattress on the floor under one of the beds, spoke up, “Gi-hun, I think you’re overreacting. Even if that were true, people wouldn’t do that.”

Gi-hun’s gaze sharpened as he stared at Young-il. “In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here.”

He stepped closer to Young-il, his tone firm. “You have no idea how people can change in this place.”

You stared at them, noticing the tension in Gi-hun’s face and posture. Young-il paused before nodding apologetically. “Alright. I guess I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m sorry.”

Gi-hun gave Young-il one last look before turning back to address the group. “We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out. I’ll take the first watch. The rest of you should decide the order.”

You exchanged glances with the others. Dae-ho was the first to speak up. “Other than that, we have to figure out who’s sleeping where.”

Jung-bae pointed to the floor between the beds. “Jun-hee should sleep here, near the wall, surrounded by beds. It’ll be safer.”

“Then I’ll take the spot under the bed beside her,” Dae-ho said, glancing at Jun-hee for confirmation. “If that’s okay with you.”

Jun-hee nodded. “I’m okay with that.”

“I’ll take the spot under the bed on the other side of Jun-hee,” Jung-bae added. “It’s best to have two ex-Marines covering your sides.”

Jun-hee smiled in response.

Young-il turned to you, his voice soft. “Which spot do you want to take?”

You paused, glancing at the arrangement before pointing to the space directly under Jun-hee. “I’ll take the middle floor.”

That left the beds on either side of you empty until Young-il spoke up. “I’ll sleep under the bed on your left. That means Gi-hun will take the one on your right.”

“Now we just have to decide the order for keeping watch,” Dae-ho said, looking around the group.

“I’ll take the second watch, after Gi-hun,” Jung-bae said quickly.

Dae-ho raised his hand. “Third watch here.”

You spoke up just as Young-il reached to grab the leftover pillows and blanket from your arms. “Can I keep watch too?”

All eyes turned to you, surprise clear on their faces.

“How about the last watch?” you added. “I can wake up early.”

Dae-ho was the first to respond. “Ladies don’t have to. You and Jun-hee should take a full rest.”

“Yeah, no need for you to worry about keeping watch,” Jung-bae chimed in. “We’ve got this.”

You hesitated, feeling their protective tone press against your resolve.

“But it’s fine if I take the last watch,” you said, lowering your gaze briefly. “I want to freshen up before the next game anyway.”

Dae-ho and Jung-bae exchanged glances, clearly about to argue, when Young-il’s calm voice cut through. “Okay, you take the last watch.”

Everyone turned to him in confusion, while you blinked at him in surprise. Young-il glanced at the others briefly before settling his gaze on you.

“I’ll take the fourth watch, after Dae-ho,” he said evenly. “Then it’s your turn. But I’ll keep watch with you. It’s not safe for you to do it alone.”

The group nodded in agreement and that was the end of discussion. You, however, stayed quiet, your thoughts swirling. Young-il’s calm decision left you unsettled. The idea of him accompanying you brought a flutter of nerves you couldn’t quite suppress. You’d been trying to create some distance, to remind yourself of his marriage. Yet here he was, volunteering to accompany you.

It left you torn. A part of you appreciated his thoughtfulness. But another part of you couldn’t shake the complicated feelings his actions stirred, leaving you wondering how you’d handle the quiet hours of your shared watch.

A few minutes passed as the six of you settled into your designated spots. The announcer’s voice broke through the murmurs in the dormitory to announce bedtime. Moments later, the lights switched off, leaving the soft golden glow of the half-filled piggy bank overhead to dimly illuminate the vast room.

Dae-ho and Jung-bae were already lying under the beds, while Jun-hee rested on the mattress positioned on the open floor between them.

“This sucks,” Jung-bae muttered from his spot. “Feels like I’m hiding under my old desk at school.”

Dae-ho chuckled softly. “Pretend it’s a fun sleepover. We’re just missing the snacks and ghost stories.”

As their quiet exchange continued, you glanced over and noticed Gi-hun was sitting at the front, keeping watch.

Then, you felt a presence close beside you. Turning your head, you saw Young-il crouched beside you on your mattress on the open floor. He paused, glancing at you apologetically as he moved to sit down.

“Sorry,” he muttered, referring to him intruding your space.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

Young-il shifted onto the edge of your mattress before sliding onto his own spot under the bed beside you. You watched as he settled in before you finally lay down and pulled the blanket over yourself.

The space felt smaller now, the awareness of his presence lingering. You never thought you’d be this close to him, sharing such confined quarters. But as the thought crossed your mind, you pushed it away quickly. He’s married. You shouldn’t let yourself think about him like this.

You closed your eyes, wishing for sleep to come quickly and pull you away from your restless thoughts.

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Let it happen

hwang in-ho x reader

Chapter 3

The team your companion procured hovered around the pair of you, Eun-Shin occupying the dull minutes with endless chatter that you yearned to be deceased- the newfound team less enthusiastic about straining the cords within their neck to speak with you. Although your partnership with Eun-Shin promised neutrality, you could feel the pierce of daggers in their gazes, the X patch merely tagging you with a target, a deer in the scope of a hunter. It was ironic, considering you were the cynical one.

Your head settled against the cool frame of the beds, the vibrations thrumming through the metal to your skull, a nice distraction from the isolation. You couldn’t even blame them for it since you’d brought this on yourself by pushing everyone away, portraying a near emotionless front. For all they knew, you would throw their lives away without a second thought- and you would, you convinced yourself. After the last game, their perception of you would be lasting, but somehow, the rush dulled whenever you realized people with actual lives were dying. These people weren’t simply nobodies who lacked depth anymore, you’ve witnessed firsthand the whirlwind of emotions that consumed them- the grief, the horror, even the cruelness. What about the trembling girl from earlier- 95- pleading to everyone for a shred of mercy, to leave? It gnawed at your intricately crafted persona, something that had been engrained into your being since you were young.

“You seem bored over here,” A voice intruded your daze, clearing the fog that dwelled the crevices of your brain. You blinked, a slight surprise flickering briefly in your eyes before your head finally tilted, revealing the origins to the familiar voice- dark eyes meeting e/c ones.

A glance back at the team not so far from you, your tongue formed words, voice free of the feelings that your body teemed with, “I just have nothing to say.”

Young-Il cracked a small smile, releasing a breath of air through his nose- something about his demeanor appearing to disbelieve your answer, seeing right through that cracking persona of yours. He sat beside you, hands wrung together, elbows settled against his knees. “Our group over there is taking safety precautions for lights out,” He revealed, voice harboring a lower tone, hushed from potentially prying ears. “With the addition of another person I thought Jun-hee might feel safer, considering you two are already acquainted.”

“Jun-hee?” You repeated, the name void of memory in your mind, face revealing your lack of awareness.

His eyebrows raised, realization seeping onto his features. “222,” He clarified. “The one you brought to us earlier?”

“Oh. I remember now.”

“So what do you think? Wanna join us for the night?” Young-Il’s gaze drifted between you and your group, the one so eager to leave you secluded. Looking into his eyes, you searched for meaning and explanation behind his question- but alas, his eyes offered no translation. So you took it at face value.

“I’ll do it for her,” You agreed, finally stretching your legs after being sat for so long- trapped within your own thoughts. “It’s not like they’ll notice,” Speaking of your group, referencing their distance from you.

You followed Young-Il, his hand hovering over your back as he introduced you to the rest of the group- your name now known among the individuals apart of it. They were nice, offering a space with them, but still, you found yourself a black sheep, unsure what to say or do- unsure how willing to be. Awkward.

Lights later fell, signaling lights out had began, the six of you situated on mattresses on the floor- you laid between Young-Il and Jun-hee, back soaking in the small comfort of the bed, blanket tugged to your chest snugly. Gi-hun, you learned his name was, sat ahead of you, volunteering to keep guard first- eyes having seen the brutalities of this game once before. While you should’ve been asleep, you found yourself unable to, simply staring up at the ceiling dimly illuminated by the golden piggybank, the silence borderline deafening.

You turned on your side, facing right; where Young-Il slept, oddly sound. You shouldn’t have- you felt strange doing so- but you examined his sleeping face; the creases left from smiling throughout his lifetime, one spent joyously, and his at ease features, which were usually so stern and unrevealing- dark. He appeared at peace, the tenseness from the day’s events ebbing and allowing him to rest cozy. Your eyes then lowered, concentrating on the steady rise and fall of his chest, and you wondered how someone could be so at peace in the wake of disaster, having no inner turmoil- so confident and sure about himself, about his morals. You envied that. You envied his sureness about himself.

At that, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, mimicking the man inches from you- copying that shred of peace tackling his face, your muscles easing. And for once, you had a decent rest.

“Your attention please. The third game will begin momentarily,” The monotonous voice beckoned from the intercoms, stirring the contestants inside, including you. “All players, please wake up and prepare to move to the game hall.”

When you awoke, you’d nearly forgotten of your predicament with Jun-hee’s group- recollecting your memory from the day prior. The previously mentioned girl blinked as she sat up, groggy and squinting from the bright lights raining down on the players, but she still managed to offer you a small smile, one that soothed your already bubbling nerves. You were unaware if you were anxious for the interrogation awaiting you- or if you were afraid of what was to come.

Rubbing your eyes, you noticed the familiar outline of Young-Il directly in front of you, having been his turn to keep watch while the rest of you slept soundly. You hadn’t even heard him move in the night, as quiet as a mouse. He dared a look back, hearing the sounds of the group’s stir- their faces soured by unwillingness to wake, eyes resting on your face briefly. As he stood, you crawled slightly forward, using the frame of the bed to hoist yourself up- hand extended to the other girl to make her attempt less strenuous.

“It was… nice.. being around you, Jun-hee, but I must return to my own group now,” You alerted, unsure how to word your time spent with the group- the kindness of your words tasting bitter on your tongue, so foreign to you. “Best of luck this game.”

And with those parting words, you slipped away to merge with the horde of people, in search of Eun-Shin, eyes skimming across the wave of contestants, each of the faces you spotted just as weary as the last.

An arm locked around yours soon enough, tugging you toward them, shoulder clashing with their’s. “What the-“ You spat, puzzled until the perpetrator’s face entered your vision. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yep. You can’t escape me that easily,” Eun-Shin joked, nudging you with his elbow, the rest of the group to his right. They were never interested in your doings, but you weren’t very intrigued by their’s either. “How was your little sleepover, huh?”

“I just slept. Nothing more, nothing less,” You shrugged, lips smushed into a fine line, boredom plain on your features, this line of questioning gaining you no entertainment.

“Odd that he invited you over there, though,” He mumbled, his expression thoughtful- almost mockingly so. Always trying to pick apart Young-Il for reasoning you couldn’t be sure of. “Seems kinda off. What if he tried murdering you?” His hands mimicked a strangling motion before becoming firm on your shoulders, shaking you back and forth to emphasize his point.

Prying his hands from your shoulders, you responded to the notion, “There were other people there. But I didn’t go because of him, I went for 222. She’s pregnant, so… I felt a little bad,” You attempted to phrase your words less empathetic, not wanting him to believe your frozen heart had started watering. “Not for her, the baby, I mean- the baby didn’t sign up for this,” You clarified, though that sentence only appeared to cement the opposite impression.

“You know, it’s okay to care for people, but here is.. probably not the best place for that,” Eun-Shin stated, eyes flying to the other members of your group, voice lowering to where only the pair of you could hear. “Listen, you’re the only member of this team I can rely on- even if you’re a little crazy. I can’t have you dying on me. Just be careful,” Surprisingly, his statement eased the strange worry of abandonment, feeling a little more useful to them.

“I won’t, and I won’t… do anything..” You gritted your teeth, the words difficult to let out. Change proved difficult. “….crazy… anymore. At least not here while our lives are at stake.”

“Wow, you really have changed. Are you sure you’re really… 11… anymore instead of a clone?” Eun-Shin teased, a joking smile present on his face. “I’m just kidding. I’m glad you’re coming around.”

Eventually, guards escorted everyone out of the room, leading you up the colorful and seemingly endless amount of stairs- up and up you went, trudging unbearably slow up each step, Eun-Shin silent and thoughtful throughout the entire process- probably pondering the next game’s events, wondering the difficulty and severity. Even you couldn’t deny your curiosity, palms a twinge sweaty from what pulsated beyond flesh- and you shouldn’t have felt this way, with your morphing perspective, but ecstasy threatened to seize you, heart hammering and body pumping with the buzz of adrenaline. You clenched your fist, snuffing out the growing intensity- you needed to stay focused for the livelihood of your group, or else you’d easily be sidetracked by euphoria.

Everyone came to a halt at a set of cream colored curtains, which added a sense of mystique to the already anxious crowd, guards stationed in front of everyone, waiting just as you were. Curtains spread apart, the pink clad figures entered, standing on either side of the entrance while the rest of you cautiously followed, eyes darting around the sleek room to study its interior, the center piece of it a trio of galloping horses, reminding you of a carousel. Seeing your reflection in the floor, your eyebrows furrowed, your face lighter- something different in the way your eyes gleamed, sparked with will.

“Players, welcome to the third game. We will begin momentarily,” The intercom chimed. “The game you will be playing today is Mingle. I will now repeat the announcement…”

“Mingle? Do you have any idea?” Eun-Shin peered across the faces of your group, questioning if anyone had any idea about the game. You could only shake your head, “mingling” being the last thing you ever did while out in the world.

“I will now explain the rules of the game. All players will step onto the platform in the center of the arena. Once the game begins, the platform will spin. Shortly after, a number will be called out. You must then form a group that matches this number, enter one of the surrounding rooms, and close the door within thirty seconds- or be eliminated.”

“There’s the answer to your question,” You remarked, eyeing your partner, the five of you approaching the middle of the room. The horses loomed over you, being a mock to all of you down below, just within shooting range.

“Well, this one’s gonna suck,” He muttered, turning to the four staring at him, awaiting a speech- or maybe a game plan, looking to him like they were disciples in need of knowledge. “We’ll try to stick together the best we can- but I doubt it’s gonna be as simple as that, so just… no matter what number they call, don’t panic, just think first and do the most logical thing. We just have to trust one another, and we can all make it out.”

“What if she leads one of us to dying?” 30 directed a pointed glare at you, her eyes peeling from you to your companion.

Before Eun-Shin could respond, you stepped in for yourself, “I understand my actions from the game before frightened you- but I won’t do it again- or not this time. I like gambling, but…. not to the point of someone… dying.”

Eun-Shin appeared surprised at your accountability, eyes flickering to something behind you briefly- darkening for merely a second before he threw his arm around your shoulders, not revealing the sourness on his features. “Plus, we need our token crazy girl- and besides, while she may have taken a risk last game, she did it knowing she could come back from it,” He added, the group’s resentment slightly dissipating as they mulled over his words.

“I guess you’re right… I didn’t think of it that way.”

You sighed, again feeling overshadowed- your words less impactful than that of your peer. You only wallowed under his arm, beneath him as always, a tinge of envy at his ease in dominating everyone- having all of you enamored with him. The effect of extroverts.

“With that, let the game begin,” Music reverberated throughout the room, a catchy tune chorused, and the platform all players stood on jerked as it began its deathly spin- everyone wary and preparing for the moment it would stop. Eun-Shin had a grip on your wrist and 155’s, keeping each of you interlocked and close.

“Ten players.”

“We need five more people,” Eun-Shin declared, grabbing another nearby player. Nerves were scattered, panic settling among some players, the addition of flashing lights helping none- regardless, you found yourself grabbing ahold of a nearby number’s hand, tugging them toward you while the rest of your group clung to anyone near- running with haste to the nearest door once the numbers reached ten and shutting it. Each of you heaved a sigh, backs supported by the wall as a sense of relief washed over you. The game wasn’t over yet, however, so tensions still ran high.

The hand you gripped scarily tight ripped itself from your grasp, the man rubbing the aching spot, wearing a grimace on his face. “I had my own team,” He grumbled, approaching the slot in the door to peek into the open space where stragglers were left defenseless. “My friend.. She’s- She’s out there!” Frenzied pounds reverberated from the knuckles hitting metal, hands frantic against the locked doorknob. “Nari! Please..! Please…” His shouts bled into whimpers as bullets scattered, the sounds jolting you and his reaction shattering you, the tremble of your hands only slightly recognizable. The rest of you inside could only watch in silence, having nothing to say- nothing that could comfort his cries.

He turned to you abruptly, hands springing to the collar of your shirt and slamming your back into the wall, feet hovering inches above the floor- gasps escaping opened mouths at the sudden action. “You did this! Why would you do this!” He demanded, your arms drooped and demeanor showcasing your lack of willingness to defend yourself- because truthfully, you agreed.

“Hey, hey, it’s not her fault,” Eun-Shin’s hand cautiously settled on the player’s shoulder, to which the opposer removed a balled fist from your collar, jamming his elbow into Eun-Shin’s chest, causing him to barrel over, a wheeze torn from his throat. It was the first you’d seen him unable to deescalate a situation.

“It’s fine.. Eun-Shin,” You managed, the pressure against your throat leaving little room to speak, eyes flickering between the enraged expression directly in front of you and the view of your partner on the floor from the corner of your eye. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

He released you, body instantly socked to the ground, regaining all the air your lungs were deprived of for those moments, a blizzard of coughs terrorizing your throat. “I would’ve rather died out there with her than been the reason she died,” He spat, towering dangerously above you, the gleam in his eyes making your mouth go dry. “Touch me again, and your neck will be more than bruised.”

With that, the door clicked, signifying it’d been unlocked- the time until then seeming infinite under the intense scrutiny. Another female inside helped you stand, putting your arm around her shoulder as the two of you walked toward the circle, the aid something you didn’t reject as you were still blindsided.

“Are you okay? He shouldn’t have done that to a girl,” She shook her head disapprovingly, trying to soothe you, a hand on your back- Eun-Shin was busy being comforted by the rest of your group, who were more or less unaffected by the actions when it involved you. “I was scared he was gonna hit you- or any of us if we had tried stepping in. I mean- he did hit your friend.”

“It’s okay,” You sighed, gently removing your arm from around her, lessening the weight against her. “I deserved it.”

“You couldn’t have known, you grabbed anyone you could,” She comforted, a sympathetic look on her face. “Plus, if he really believed what he said, he wouldn’t have let you drag him all the way there. People in grief just need a person to blame, especially here. Everyone is scared to die.”

The tune started again, the platform spinning smoothly, but the repeated and drawn out motion made you dizzy, nausea creeping into your body as you peered further at the puddles of blood, your mind trailing back to the man. Like the woman said, he needed a person to blame- but really, was he unfounded?

“Four players.” The jerk of the platform stopping abruptly brought you back to the hectic situation, Eun-Shin’s grip on your hand causing your gaze to shoot up, “Come on, let’s go. 30, you go with 33,” The woman you had just spoken to. “We’ll meet back with you.”

Along with Eun-Shin, 155, and 77, you darted toward a door, your hands interlocked, footsteps hurried- the hammering of your heart swift and filling your ears. Opening the door revealed a man inside, trembling in fear at the sight of your group. You swallowed thickly, casting a glance at the men beside you. They looked deranged from this angle. You wished you were courageous enough to sacrifice yourself- but instead, you stayed silent.

“Sorry about this,” Eun-Shin frowned, nodding at the other two, who each took one of the man’s arms and shoved him into the chaos- something so ruthless you wouldn’t have expected it from Eun-Shin, your eyes wide, merely watching as the door slammed shut, the duo (155 and 77) guarding the door, in the chance someone would try forcing it open. His eyes fell on you, taking in your appearance. “I put the safety of our group above all. I know it’s hard, but we have no other choice. You understand, don’t you?”

“I didn’t say anything,” You defended, the gunshots a grim reminder of what would happen if you failed to make it inside. You wondered if the man, who’d nearly strangled you, survived, hoping to not summon his wrath later on.

“You were thinking it, I could tell. Come on, at this point, I need crazy you back.”

“You can’t be picky now when you almost killed us earlier,” 155 snarked, stealing a glance out the slot.

“I… understand..” You muttered.

When you exited the room, your shoulders were slumped, an exasperated sigh threatening to leave your mouth. It didn’t matter how you behaved, people were still unhappy- no matter if you said anything or kept yourself tame. What could possibly appease them? Perhaps it was for the best to act how you always did and be how you always have been. Even when you tried to do good, it only resulted in wrong.

The music’s thrum became repetitive, a childish tune used to conduct such dark acts- everyone’s nerves frayed from the amount of people dying with each round, with each countdown, the number of people to be in a room lessening.

“Three players.”

You looked to Eun-Shin, hand on the cloth of his jacket to keep him close. “Okay, okay, 11, 155, come with me, 77 and 30, find another player- quick,” He instructed in haste, the three of you running toward a door while the remainder sprinted in the opposite direction. He slung you inside, the door falling closed behind the trio. His hands were on his knees, recuperating- the flashing lights, the running, the sprinting, the mixture overwhelming.

“Are you… okay?” You questioned, eyeing him.

“Yes. We made it in, didn’t we?”

You nodded and walked toward the slot in the door, watching the guards shoot the individuals scattered about the room, pleading helplessly for the pink figures to spare them- and then you removed yourself from it all, distancing yourself little by little. You’d done it once, and you could do it again, building your cold demeanor back piece by piece, mend the melting heart and make it cold again. You would never see these people again- whether it be because you died, or because you survived.

“Scared?” Eun-Shin asked, noticing your prying eyes.

You looked at him, eyes stern and cold, something he was certain to discern. “No. You?”

“Me either,” He admitted. But you almost scoffed at the statement, believing it a lie.

Once the doors were unlocked, you stepped out, regrouping with the parting teammates. You remained silent while the others chatted a little bit, relieved to see one another alive, but you weren’t apart of that relief.

The music mocked you with its cheerful tone, the spinning leaving you in a slight daze. Your face beamed with disappointment, for a reason you shouldn’t have been disappointed for- people betrayed you countlessly, caring only for their wellbeing, it was foolish of you to believe otherwise, at least for these people.

“Six players.”

Again. Six of you scurried to a room, tensions high and aggravation settling underneath the mask of panic. More people dead- a repetitive cycle that you wondered how long would last. When would you die? How long would you last? Six players was generous this round, but when would it shift again, flipping a switch and catching everyone off guard. The blood on the floor greeted you, shoes slick with the red substance, but that had grown normal after the last game, your shoes stained with pink.

“Attention, players. The final round will now begin,” The intercom announced, slight anxiety spilling into your stomach, organs twisting into knots, the next number to be called unknown- a question of what it would be on every player’s mind. The music doing little to quell anyone’s nerves. “Two players,” The lights dimmed, the light’s enthusiastic flashing and jolt of the platform sending everyone into flight mode.

Your eyes darted to Eun-Shin, having the intention of grabbing him, but his arm was already tangled with 155’s, lips in a thin line as he blankly acknowledged your stare, haste to leave you behind. A sacrifice had to be made- and looks like he’d chosen you for that role, disregarding his earlier statement. Your eyes then darted to your last two teammates- even if it’d been one, you were aware they’d rather die with you than be in a room with you. Because of your attitude, or maybe because of the X patch.

Mouth dry, the time ticked by awfully slow as you stood there. Your face was void of panic or anger- and the thought that this would be your last day alive struck you for a moment, you weren’t fearful of it. You expected it to happen eventually, especially with a game containing such high stakes. You took a small step forward, stealing a glance back at the platform- should you just sit down and give up now? Fighting against it would be shameful.

Before you could decide, your hand had been grabbed, the sudden grip stunning you, but your reflexes acted accordingly, the pace of your feet fast. Maybe you didn’t want to die after all. You were dragged into a room, a pair of hands then firm on your shoulders once safety had been secured, causing your eyes to finally lift from the floor to your savior.

Young-Il?

“What were you doing?” He questioned, eyes fixed on you. His eyebrows were furrowed, seeking an answer, determined to find one within your expression like he were a detective attempting to crack a code. The last thing you’d expected was to be saved- your mind vacant in those moments, merely basking in gloom. “Why wouldn’t you run? Try to find someone, try to get a room?”

“I… was looking,” You defended, though the lie was blatant, and as someone who already saw through the carefully crafted persona, it was even more so- so you crumbled. “Okay… I just didn’t have anyone. I’m not scared of dying, why not accept it?”

Young-Il sighed, arms falling to his sides- seemingly disappointed. “You should value your life more,” He examined your features, the concern on his face clear, but you didn’t understand why. You wouldn’t ever understand why- but you did know him to be caring, he would react this way with anyone so willing to surrender their life. “What’s that on your neck?”

Your hand flew to your neck, the spot sore under the brush of your fingers. “Oh….” You paused, words unable to form on your tongue- all the sentences you could possibly say falling short. What would you say? “I pulled someone into a room with us, and his friend got killed… so…”

“He blamed it on you,” He finished, a noticeable grimace on his face, eyes lowering, the ideas brewing in his mind unknown to you, and for once, you wished you could know. But the mystery surrounding him drew forth a curiosity within you. The door then clicked, signaling it had unlocked- with that, the game ending. “Join my team, Y/N,” His words were less of a question and more of a demand, sounding as if he wouldn’t accept no as an answer, the door still shut.

“For Jun-hee.”

“For you,” He corrected, sending you a final glance before he finally opened the door, keeping you near to him.

His words rattled your brain, and although you yearned to be alone- to be cold, isolated, distant from connection- you stayed with him, your eyes never straying from the number displayed on his back, oddly comforted in proximity to him. Conflicted feelings arose in you, unsure how to return the group’s kindness- or how to accept it, rather. You’d been alone the majority of your life, so affection was limited, gambling and making enemies being your way of survival.

“Once we all get back, somebody should go around and do a head count,” Your ears caught the low tone of Gi-hun, whose eyes darted across the scape, cautious and noting all surroundings. His senses keener since the last time he’d been here, wary of anything and everything- and who could blame him? This was your third day, and already, you felt your sanity crumbling.

“Why?”

“If we figure out what the X and O split is, then we’ll know which of the two sides is gonna have a better shot at the next vote,” He clarified.

“Guess we have to hope more O’s died than we did,” Young-Il remarked, a condescending air to the statement that proved clear as day to you- almost as if subtly pointing out the contradiction Gi-hun faced.

Eyes traced his back, pondering the midst of his mind, the storm concocted inside- what conceived such an arrogance toward the second time player? The pair seemed strangely familiar to one another, though that was impossible, as Young-Il was just another player led astray and down on his luck, but the strive to one up- could you call it that?- Gi-hun struck you as personal. Regardless, it didn’t involve you, and you’d prefer if it remained that way. After all, Young-Il had come to your rescue, one of the few to notice and tend to you- even besides that, you were a new addition to the group, perhaps there was context you lacked.

“You seem thoughtful,” The aforementioned individual commented, nudging you gently to grab your attention.

Chin tilted up to peer at him, you responded, “It’s nothing.”

He didn’t pry any further on the matter, a trait about him you appreciated. “What was your life like before?” His question surprised you, but you were aware he probably perceived it as a simple maneuver of topic- your life having just been chaotic. “Before all of this.” His eyes glimmered with intrigue, dark but there was a lightness.

And for some reason, you answered, treating him like a sinner to a confessional, excusing the frail admission, because you were likely to never see his face again, at least someone would know you- maybe even remember you if he survived, “I gambled. A lot.”

“Is that why you’re here? Debt from gambling?”

“No… I just love gambling in any capacity,” Gaze flitted to the steps, each of them a new color- the gnawing anxiety of being judged gargantuan. Which wouldn’t be completely wrong, most of your bad decisions stemmed from it.

Young-Il nodded, his features lightly submerged in realization. “That explains the last few games,” He noted, drawing your eyes back to him. “So even your life you’re willing to gamble?”

“Yes, but they’re usually… estimated gambles. Here, at least,” You expounded, unusually talkative- you felt like you were rambling a bit. “I don’t want anyone to die because of me. But… that probably sounds like I’m lying.. You think I’ll get you killed?”

His laugh was low, eyes drifting to the floor briefly as a smile crept onto his face. “No,” He rejected, amused by the question you’d posed. “We’ll be killed anyway if we lose the games. I think I’ll take my chances.”

“I guess you’re right..”

Herded back to the room you were originally contained inside, you couldn’t train your eyes any longer to Young-Il, allowing them to wander across the room, scanning for the broken partnership that dangled you above the crushing jaws of death. He was settled among the rest of your team, gaze drooped, appearing very thoughtful and dazed.

A hand hovered along your spine, ushering you toward an area in the back- Young-Il guiding you to the spot his group claimed, feeling so meek, like a rabbit in the paws of a wolf. Uncharacteristic and strange, you reveled in the sensation, your stomach churning with a fond emotion unknown to you.

“Don’t worry about him right now,” He instructed softly, showcasing an assuring smile that bloomed spring in your stomach, butterflies the evidence of such. You’d never experienced euphoria so vivid before- is this how blossoming friendship felt? Was this the sickening sweet symptom derived from affection? You found it more addictive than adrenaline, a new sickness to fester within you.

“Okay.. I won’t,” You relented, heart hammering in your chest, fingers giving a little twitch, a part of you worried he would hear the rhythmic beating.

—

sorry this chapters a little shorter than the rest, but i wanted to get a chapter out for you guys since its been a while!! thank you so much for the support:)) hope you enjoy!!!

he shouldn’t be looking this fine btw