hello, friends! here to present to you my big softie baek “theo” taeho. formerly a c-tier guardian, now serving as an associate warden. he’s got dex (bullseye) and kaname’s precision with clint’s (hawkeye) moral compass. i have a not-so tldr version of his background below the cut. additional stuff like playlist and pinterest board should be on my pinned post, if you want to have a look. as far as connections/plots goes, i prefer to brainstorm. now, if you want me to pop in your dms, just leave a heart!
born in 1995, at the height of the guardian project’s expansion—raised not in its glory, but in its shadow.
parents, baek jinho and kang mirae, were lower-tier operatives under the d.m.h.o., specializing in logistics and containment.
their abilities—adaptive reflexes and kinetic redirection—were functional, not glamorous; useful but forgettable in a generation obsessed with spectacle.
home life was strict, almost militarized. conversations were debriefings. affection translated into training schedules and error reports.
taeho learned early that control equaled survival; emotion was a liability that could be weaponized.
his ability surfaced at eleven—superhuman accuracy, the instinctive computation of movement, distance, and probability.
could predict outcomes before they occurred; saw patterns in chaos like others saw colors.
his father tested him relentlessly—throwing knives, moving targets, ricochet drills until dawn. praise came only when he stopped missing.
mother watched quietly, never intervening; her silence became the closest thing to comfort he knew.
by the time he entered pinnacle institute (2013), he was already more weapon than boy.
at pinnacle, he stood out not for flash or strength, but for calm precision—every motion deliberate, every silence meaningful.
earned the nickname “killshot” after a perfect marksmanship streak; the name stuck even when the laughter faded.
never sought recognition—only mastery. failure was unacceptable, but victory never felt like joy, only relief.
graduated top of his class in 2018 and entered as a d-tier guardian, quickly promoted to c-tier by 2020 for near-flawless mission performance.
excelled in covert operations—espionage, assassination, suppression.
colleagues said he didn’t aim; he calculated inevitability.
earned the codename “issue” during a blackout mission where he eliminated seven hostiles using ricochet trajectories in total darkness.
from then on, “issue” became a whisper in intelligence halls—part myth, part warning.
despite his loyalty, the system he served began to rot in his eyes—bureaucracy over integrity, headlines over humanity.
retired quietly in 2023, citing “personal reasons.” few believed it.
reappeared in 2025 as associate warden of the mutagenic high-security detention center—a fortress at the edge of district x housing the city’s most volatile mutagens.
runs the prison like a silent machine; every corridor under his watch, every movement predicted before it happens.
prisoners call him “the man who sees before you move”.
staff call him sir even when he isn’t listening.
still wears the posture of a soldier—back straight, tone measured, eyes unreadable.
some say he never left the battlefield—he just built his own version of one.
gummygunk
blakekathryn
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