Sometimes I like to follow a creator and then send them an anon req. like yes you probably know it’s me who’s asking for this debauchery but no one else needs to know bbg, it’s our little secret.
Hiiii, could you do hyunju x fem!reader where reader has a panic attack and hyunju helps her? Thank u!!
THE MONSTER'S GONE
(Cho Hyun-ju/Fem!Reader)
Summary: An attempt on your life in Hide and Seek triggers a panic attack, and Hyun-ju does more than just save your life.
Content warnings: Very heavy angst, attempted murder, murder, near-death experiences, panic attacks, canon typical violence, blood, life-threatening injuries
You ran like hell, legs pumping, arms swinging, your breath coming in horrified, sharp bursts. Your body was weak from the lack of food and proper sleep, but you kept pushing yourself, knowing that slowing down, even for a moment, could mean death.
"You little bitch!" you heard Nam-gyu drawl. "Think you can outrun us forever?"
You turned the corner and sprinted towards the door, yanking it open.
You gasped, just barely managing to skid to a stop as you saw the word written above the door in Korean.
It was the exit.
You bolted towards the handle and pulled out the circle key you had been given, and then looked at the lock.
Your heart sank.
You needed three keys to open the door, and you only had one.
"Well, well, 199. Thought you could hide from us forever?" you heard Nam-gyu drawl. Next to him stood Myung-gi, watching with a cold, almost bored expression on his face. They entered the room, their footsteps slow and relaxed as if they had all the time in the world.
"Stay...stay away!" you yelled, your heart hammering in your chest as if it was trying to escape you. "Please! I don't want to die!"
Nam-gyu laughed, clearly taking great delight in your panic. "I hear you." he chuckled. "I was going to stab you, but maybe I'll let 333 kill you instead. It'll be quicker and painless."
"No..." you choked. "Please, please...don't..."
Nam-gyu turned to Myung-gi. "Begging." he scoffed. "How pathetic. Anyways, MG Coin, think you can handle it?"
Myung-gi only stared at Nam-gyu.
Taking advantage of the brief pause, you tried to bolt towards the exit, but Myung-gi lunged forward, slamming you against the wall. His fingers locked around your throat instantly as he pinned you against the wall.
Nam-gyu chuckled. "She thought she could escape." he remarked.
You gasped for air, letting out a strangled sound, barely a scream.
Myung-gi clapped his other hand over your mouth as well, silencing you, smothering you. Panic surged through you like an electric current and you thrashed, your limbs convulsing, muscles locking up from the lack of oxygen. All you could hear was blood pounding in your ears as darkness began to creep over your vision.
"Stop fighting." he said coldly, his fingers tightening around your throat. "I don't want to make this painful."
Suddenly, Myung-gi was pulled back from you, his hands disappearing from your throat and mouth. You collapsed to your knees, hacking, coughing and inhaling air, barely registering what was happening. Had Nam-gyu inexplicably decided to attack him? Had some new threat entered the picture?
Your vision cleared, and you saw that Hyun-ju had Myung-gi pinned against the wall, forearm pressing into his throat. Behind them, Nam-gyu lay limply against the wall, his knife discarded. Whether he was unconscious or dead, you couldn't tell.
"What were you doing?" Hyun-ju shouted in Myung-gi's face.
Now, it was Myung-gi's turn to be scared. His lips trembled and he opened and closed his mouth stupidly, trying to form an answer, but nothing came.
"You leave her alone!" Hyun-ju shouted, making Myung-gi recoil.
That was when you saw his hand moving, reaching for his knife.
Just as you opened your mouth to shout out a warning to Hyun-ju, Hyun-ju spotted it first. Just as Myung-gi raised the knife, Hyun-ju caught his wrist and slammed it back against the wall, forcing him to drop the blade.
In one swift motion, Hyun-ju seized Myung-gi's head and twisted it with both hands.
A sickening crack echoed through the room. Myung-gi fell limply to the ground. Hyun-ju stepped back, breathing hard, eyes fixed on his corpse.
"Player 333, eliminated."
You sat there, curled up against the wall, trembling. You knew you were safe, now that Myung-gi was dead. But your body refused to move, as if your limbs were glued in place. Tears rose in your eyes, and you felt your breaths becoming shallower as you began to hyperventilate. You tried to steady your breathing, but no air seemed to be reaching your lungs.
You barely registered Hyun-ju helping to your feet, guiding you gently through the exit door, saying something about going back for Geum-ja and Jun-hee, and then vanishing back into the maze once more.
Once the guards escorted you back to the dormitory, you waited anxiously for her in the empty room. With every passing second that she wasn't there, your chest grew tighter. Worse and worse possibilities rose in your mind. What if she had run into another Seeker and been killed? What if Geum-ja and Jun-hee died too?
A horrible thought occurred to you. What if the last thing you had said to her was something said in anger?
After Mingle, you and Hyun-ju had had a fight. You and Hyun-ju had had arguments sometimes, but those had been the small, petty kind that were resolved quickly. The most conflict you had had was the natural conflict that was part of being in a healthy relationship, but this had been entirely different.
The grief over losing Young-mi and the sheer amount of death you and Hyun-ju had witnessed had changed you both, and an argument had exploded, like a spark lighting a dry prairie on fire. It was jagged and ugly and deep. Hyun-ju had accused you of siding with Myung-gi. You had pointed out that Hyun-ju was more responsible for Young-mi's death than Myung-gi because she had voted to continue.
Hyun-ju didn't say anything after that, but you had noticed the shift immediately. She remained around you, but she had become colder, more distant. She didn't speak to you when they handed out the meals, other than briefly warning you to stay awake and stay hidden during lights out that night. Even that was said in a cold tone, as if she couldn't stand the sight of you anymore.
Before Hide and Seek, Hyun-ju had approached you. "Y/N..." she said, her voice returning to its' usual softness for the first time in twenty four hours. "Let's stick together during this game. If we stay together, we'll have a better chance of surviving."
You had stared at her incredulously. "You ignored me all of yesterday. I needed you, but you avoided me." you had said. "And now, you want to team up?"
"Y/N, I really am sorry. I was upset about Young-mi, but was wrong of me to to say that." Hyun-ju said. "Please, let's just stay together for now..."
You had been in no mood to forgive Hyun-ju just yet.
"I don't want to stay together." you had replied. "I don't need this. I don't need you."
That had been the last thing you had said aloud to her. Not how much you loved her. Not how much you wanted to leave this place with her, but a cutting, furious rejection. Another stab of guilt rocked you as you realized you hadn't even thanked Hyun-ju for saving you. Guilt quickly turned into fear once more, and your eyes shifted towards the door. It was entirely possible that Hyun-ju hadn't made it, and that you would never get the chance.
What if right now, she was being painfully stabbed to death? Or had her neck snapped quickly and cruelly? Or was being slowly choked to death the way Myung-gi had tried to do to you?
The pressure in your chest and throat grew, as if Myung-gi's fingers were locked tightly around your throat once more, cutting off air, suffocating you.
Tears spilled from your eyes. "No....no..." you sobbed. It was as if you had been forcibly transported back to that moment in time, Myung-gi's bruising grip as he strangled you, the feeling of his hand over your mouth. The pain in your chest. Nam-gyu's laughter.
"Y/N!"
Next thing you knew, Hyun-ju's arms were around you, bringing you back to the moment, back to the dormitory. Her grip didn't loosen as she held you to her chest, as if she were afraid someone might try to take you away from her again. Jun-hee and Geum-ja stood behind her, watching with sympathetic expressions.
You ran a hand along Hyun-ju's arm. It really was her, in the flesh and alive.
"Shh....it's okay. I've got you, Y/N." Hyun-ju whispered, gently threading her fingers through your hair as you sobbed into her chest, tears soaking the fabric of her jacket. "You're safe."
You opened your mouth to speak. "Hyun-ju...t...thanks for..."
Your words turned into sobs once more, and you began to hyperventilate. "You don't have to talk, Y/N." Hyun-ju said quietly, with a hand still in your hair, soothing you, grounding you in the moment. "Just focus on breathing."
You tried to do as she said, inhaling and exhaling shakily as she held you close. You continued to cry, and she stood there, letting you lean your head on her as tears continued to fall from your eyes.
Her hand slid from your hair to your face, stroking your cheek. She leaned forward and planted a kiss to your forehead. Another grounding gesture that reminded you that Myung-gi was gone and you and her were still here. Still alive and safe for now.
"He's gone." Hyun-ju said, as if to confirm this. "He won't hurt you. Not now. Not ever again."
"Hyun-ju..I..." you started, finally able to speak coherently. "I'm sorry. I should have stayed with you. What I said...it's not true...I do need you."
You began to cry weakly again.
"I also said things I didn't mean." Hyun-ju said. "I shouldn't have accused you like that. And I had no right to treat you the way that I did"
You looked up at Hyun-ju and saw that her eyes were filled with tears as well.
"I was this close to losing you." she said, voice trembling. "If anything had happened...if he'd.....I would have spent our last day together ignoring you."
You stayed silent, tears still slipping down your cheeks as you took in her words.
"It doesn't matter anymore." you said finally, your voice broken, cracking, but still yours. "You're here now."
Hiii! Sorry if you dont take requests, if so ignore this, but could you do hyunju with an ill reader ??? Thanks <33
THE BEST MEDICINE
(Cho Hyun Ju/ GN!Reader)
Summary: You're sick and stressed about missing work. Hyun-ju comforts you and takes care of you.
When Hyun-Ju saw you that morning, she knew that something was wrong.
It wasn't just that you had complained about the apartment being too cold, even when the thermostat was set at a high temperature. Your movements were sluggish and weak, as if you were forcing yourself through your usual motions. Your face was flushed and you were constantly sniffling.
You tried to show no signs of this. You were sick, but you knew you needed to show up at work. Today was the deadline to complete your project and if you did, you could possibly get a raise.
However, you could also barely find the energy to speak and you were having trouble concentrating. Everything seemed all muddled up in your head. Twice, Hyun-ju had to stop you from reaching for Hot Sauce instead of maple syrup to drizzle over your pancakes.
"Y/N?" she asked you. "Are you sure you're okay to go to work? You might be sick."
"Yeah, I'm fine." you started hoarsely, rising to your feet. "I just-" Suddenly, your sight blurred and your knees buckled underneath you.
Hyun-Ju moved, catching you before you hit the floor. In one smooth, almost graceful motion, she lifted you into her arms as if you weighed nothing more than a piece of paper and carried you to the bedroom.
She set you down on the bed and pulled the blanket over your body. "You're shivering." Hyun-Ju said, her eyes wide with concern. A moment later, the back of her hand pressed gently against your forehead, and you heard her inhale sharply.
"What is it?" you asked weakly.
"Your temperature's high." Hyun-Ju answered. "You might have to rest."
Anxiety settled in your chest like a heavy weight, and you tried to push yourself up on weak arms. "No...I have to go....my boss won't..."
Hyun-Ju gently pressed a hand to your shoulder, gently guiding you down until your back met the soft mattress beneath you. She shook your head. "You need to rest." she said firmly, pulling the blanket over your shivering, weakened body. "If you go to work like this, it might get worse."
You tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. "But....the project..." you mumbled. "If I...if I don't get this raise..." You let out a strangled noise somewhere between a cough and a sob, and began to cry weakly.
Hyun-Ju reached out and cradled the back of your head with one hand, fingers tangling soothingly in your hair. "Shh, it's okay." she reassured you. "Everything will be okay. Missing one day isn't the end of the world."
When you had finally calmed down enough, Hyun-Ju brought you your laptop so that you could email your boss. You typed out the email with shaking fingers, and sent it, before lying back in bed, turning your eyes away from the screen.
Hyun-Ju watched as you turned facedown, burying your face in the pillow and pulling the blankets tightly around you. Sensing that you were still miserable, she sat down on the edge of the bed and continued to gently stroke your hair.
"What is it?" she asked in a soft, almost maternal tone.
You didn't respond, but Hyun-Ju saw your shoulders shake and heard you sob, the noise muffled by the pillow.
Hyun-Ju continued to run her fingers through your hair. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's bothering you." she said plainly.
You finally turned onto your side, and Hyun-Ju saw that your face was even more flushed, tears streaking down your cheeks. You sniffled, and Hyun-Ju reached for a tissue from the box on the bedside table. She handed it to you, and you accepted it, loudly blowing your nose.
"This wasn't supposed to happen to me..not now.." you said, your voice strained and shaky.
"That project must have been important to you." Hyun-Ju said, stroking your hair once more. "Is it the raise that you're worried about?"
You nodded, still shivering, teeth chattering as you spoke. "That raise could've helped us. We wouldn't have had to worry about rent for another few months..."
Hyun-Ju looked down at you softly. "That's why you've been so worried about work lately." she said.
Shifting you with ease, Hyun-Ju settled you in her lap, cradling you like a mother comforting a sick child. You started crying again. You didn't know why. The tears flowed from your eyes, wet and hot, and you couldn't stop them.
"Y/N, you don't have to worry about that." Hyun-ju said. "I'm still working today. We'll make enough money."
"How much is enough?" you sobbed. "I want us to have enough to live. Not just survive."
Hyun-ju reached out and cupped your face. "But is it really worth it if you're just breaking yourself in the process?" she asked.
Her words had caught your attention, and you stopped sobbing.
"Y/N, I want to earn money too. I want us to get out of this situation." Hyun-Ju continued. "But I don't want it to happen at the cost of your health."
You sniffled again, and let out another strangled, wet cough.
Hyun-Ju laid you gently on the bed once more. "I'll be back." she said hastily.
Minutes later, she returned with a steaming mug. You smiled weakly. You were still feeling cold, and at the moment, nothing seemed better than a hot drink.
Hyun-ju set the mug down on the bedside table. "I made you some tea." she said. "It should make your throat feel better."
You sat up groggily and Hyun-Ju handed you the mug. The ceramic was pleasantly warm against your hands. Slowly, tentatively, you sipped at the tea, the serene, floral taste filling your mouth. Hyun-ju was right. The warm liquid was soothing to your throat.
Still, you felt weak and as soon as you were done drinking, you collapsed again.
Hyun-Ju continued to tend to you, bringing you something to eat and drink periodically, giving you medicine and even just sitting next to you and holding your hand.
As afternoon approached, Hyun-Ju turned on the TV and put on a movie and sat with you keep your mind off of things. You could barely concentrate on the movie. All that occupied you in the moment was the feeling of being held in her lap once more, your body draped across hers, head pressed to her chest.
You noticed that you no longer felt cold. If anything, you were sweating. Though you still felt weak and tired, it was a sign that the fever was starting to break.
Hyun-Ju pressed a hand to your forehead again and a look of relief crossed her face. "It's getting better." she said with a smile.
You smiled back, despite the ache and heat pulsing in your face as you did. "It's because you're here." You shifted in her lap and pressed a kiss to the forehead. "You're the best medicine anyone can ask for."
synopsis ━ the christmas following the games were the worst time in your life. nothing was "cheerful" about the cruelty you and your fiancee had gone through. luckily, five years pass and it took some strength to find yourself in a good spot.
warnings ━ angst! mentions of death, blood, and murder. one implied mentions of transphobia from outsiders. happy ending
notes ━ I love angst
the worst time in your life was the holiday season of 2024.
nothing was "cheerful" and you were hopeless due to the cruelty you and your fiancée have gone through... all because of circumstances. the snow outside your high-rise apartment falls in thick flurries, blanketing seoul in a white that feels like a lie.
the dirt mixed in with the snow on the side of the street, turning grey and flighty, seems to represent your holiday more.
inside of your home the lights on the tiny tree hyunju insisted on putting up flicker weakly, casting shadows that twist into shapes you can't unsee.
a woman's limp hand, a man's throat slit open, the glint of a fork in the dark.
you sit on the floor, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the blue wrapped gifts neither you or hyun-ju had touched.
45.6 billion won sits in your joint account, a number so obscene it mocks the blood on your hands. you'll never scrape for rent again, never hunger, never beg. however, money doesn't buy back the screams that go into your skull every time a door slams.
hyun-ju walks through the apartment, and honestly her life, like a ghost of the soldier she used to be. she doesn't flinch at the holiday music leaking from neighbors' door.... she just turns up the volume of the mental health centered podcast on her headphones and heads out to self-defense classes.
it's the first time since her transition, since leaving the military years ago, that she's gone back to any type of defensive training. you watch her lace up her shoes, her jaw set, muscles coiling under her skin like she's preparing for war all over again.
"i need to feel strong," she says one morning, not meeting your eyes, "can't let it take that from me." you nod, but the words curdle in your throat.
what is strength?
yours shattered the moment you crawled out of that hell, covered in someone else's blood as the game organizers pushed you out of that moving limo with the golden card shoved in your throat.
you trap yourself inside of the apartment, instead of going out like hyun-ju does. the world outside is a minefield, at least in your eyes. the world had the games, and evil people like he recruiter running out to find people for next years games.
a child's laugh in the hallway sends you scrambling under the bed, and convinced it's that creepy doll from the first and fifth game ready to watch you die. the scent of sweet potatoes from the apartment next door makes bile rise up to your throat, since it reminds you of many times that the games gave you sweet potatoes for their version of "dinner".
you only leave for therapy, bundled in layers and with your scarf up to make a hood around your neck and ears. there is not a single minute where you do not look over your shoulder or carry an illegal self-defense weapon... just incase.
the therapist is kind, dr. kim, with her soft voice and notepad. unfortunately, you can't tell her the truth. you tried, but she took it as you being poetic and metaphorical instead of telling an actual story.
"i won a game," you say, "a deadly one. people died... and I can't shake it off of me."
she tilted her head at that, concern etching her face.
"that sounds like a metaphor for trauma, y/n. perhaps from your accident?"
accident.
so you half-lied, saying that it was another accident, where you witnessed a murder. you did witness a murder, but you never mentioned the games again to the woman. she helps you work through the PTSD for an hour before you walk home and cry in the elevator when you get into your apartment complex.
hyunju copes differently. healthier, maybe. she comes back from classes sweating, alive, constantly working out until her strength gets better than ever.
"come with me," she pleads one night, december cold seeping through the windows as you're curled on the couch, blanket over your head, the tv flickering with some holiday special you can't watch, "it'll help to move the body, and quiet the mind."
you shake your head, tears soaking the fabric.
"i can't. what if i hurt someone? what if I freeze and panic?"
hyun-ju kneels and pulls your blanket down gently, her calloused hands move to cup your cold face. the woman's eyes, dark and soft, stare into yours as you feel her other hand caress your right hand slowly, "we survived, baby. we survived together.... staying locked in here… it's killing you slower."
you push her away harder than you mean to, "you don't get it. you weren't the one who—" the words die.
hyun-ju killed, but mostly in self-defense. you... you killed as a red player in the fourth game to lower the numbers.
she was there, yes, but your memories are more vicious.
on christmas eve, you don't sleep. the clock ticks like a countdown and flashbacks hit in waves as you pace across the apartment with your nails digging into your palms until they bleed. hyunju finds you at dawn, collapsed against the wall, sobbing.
hyunju pulls you into her lap, rocking you like a child, "I'm sorry..." her voice breaks, the first crack in her armor as she cries too, silent tears soaking your hair.
you're both broken open as christmas day dawns gray. you haven't left the bedroom. hyunju leaves for a while before she comes back... knocking softly before she enters the door, slowly, with a tray.
a black coffee, and toast you won't eat. she sets a small box on the bed, wrapped in plain white paper... no bows, no cheer.
"open it," she says, sitting beside you.
your hands shake as you tear it.
as the packaging is reveals, your eyes soften when you see a white noise machine, an expensive one, the one you've eyed online for years but never bought.
ocean waves, rain, forest winds... this all had sounds to drown out the nightmares.
"you mentioned it once," she murmurs, "in passing. I thought… maybe it could help." you stare at it, since it was practical, thoughtful.
"hyunju…" your voice cracks.
she takes the machine from your hands, softly and slow, before finding the outlet behind the bedside table and plugs the noise machine in, and moves her fingers on the buttons to turn it on... and selects a gentle rain.
the room fills with static hush, washing over the silence as your mind starts to focus on the sound of rain.
it took a while, but the machine helped you breathe without pain after some time of using your therapy advice and taking deep breathes.
unfortunately, healing isn't linear.
the next christmas, a year and some days after the games, was harder in ways that made the previous year feel mediocre. the money bought you and hyunju a bigger apartment a few months before, which as panoramic views of the han river, but the emptiness echoes louder inside of your heart.
hyunju's classes turn into coaching... now she teaches women, trans kids, anyone who needs to feel safe and wants to take self-defense. she's thriving, glowing almost, her body is toned to perfection, her confidence is radiant... especially since marrying you that spring.
the two of you had a small ceremony, attended by some of her old military comrades who accepted her transition and you had your small group of old friends there.
you... you think you could be better in terms of accepting what had happened to you. therapy helped since you've started emdr, tapping through traumas you frame as "war flashbacks" to avoid the truth.
unfortunately, triggers ambush you like how a fireworks display on new year's sent you screaming into the bathroom, convinced it's gunfire. hyunju bursted in at the time, holding you through the panic attack, her own hands trembling since she was suffering at that too.
"i'm sorry," you gasp, "i'm dragging you down."
on that night, you almost left hyunju. you figured that she'd be better off on her own, without someone who was still affected by the horrors of what happened on that island. hyunju stayed, kissed your forehead, and told you that she was not leaving, ever.
a month ago, you had your first serious fight with hyunju.
"go out without me then!" you yelled, it was over something to do with hyunju seeming to "not care" (she absolutely cared, she was just tired from her own day and had stress about a later class) about your emdr progress.
hyun-ju did not entertain the fight, so she slammed the door, coming back hours later with her eyes red, begging you to try and heal, somehow. even if it was not through physical matters like her.
"i need you to try," she whispers.
you are trying, a little.
you joined her for a walk in the snow which was agony, since every stranger was a threat to you, but her hand in yours made you feel suprisingly safe.
that second year was hard since christmas invitations piled up from hyunju's old friends... the ones who supported her of course. hyunju attends one, since you were too nervous and still were not ready for "parties" with crowds of people.
your wife came back home drunk on soju and rage.
"most of them were great... but that one piece of shit," she slurs, "refused to call me... whatever... fuck them."
you hold her as she vomits, then somehow you made love to her desperately on the kitchen floor. that holiday season had baking fails involving cookies, laughing until you cry when they burn black, more expensive gifts, and talks about the future... like the next steps after you heal from everything.
the third year was... somewhat better. the white noise machine still works from year one, and it is your constant companion since you never go to sleep without it.
you're still with dr.kim, and you finally told her the truth about the games, but covered it up as a cult since telling her about the vips, gun fight, and games would have sounded unrealistic.
dr. kim believes it, and your ptsd eases to be manageable since you venture to markets by yourself now. sometimes, hyunju goes along with her arm around your waist, but you are starting to enjoy walking through the winter without looking over your shoulders all of the time.
unfortunately, a child dropped a glass ornament in a christmas store, which shattered and sent your body into a frozen shock. silently, you started hyperventilating but with a help of a stranger, who was a girl who clearly had medical experience, you were able to start breathing correctly again.
at home, once you told hyun-ju what had occurred... she ran you a bath, washing the panic from your skin.
you start journaling nightmares, burning the pages in the sink afterwards since you read about someone else doing that online.
overall, the third year was manageable.
on the fourth year, christmas was starting to feel special again.
for the last few months, you helped hyunju recover from her bottom surgery. you were there for her, helping her with everything.
another proessive moment, once hyunju fully healed, was when you hosted one of hyunju's self-defense students for a potluck... no trees, no lights, just food and talks around the room about personal stories of growth.
laughter filled the apartment, real which made you smile and forget about your pain. the night was fun, until the last person left around midnight.
once that last person left, you went out alone on the balcony, snow falling as you thought about the players you wished were here with you, laughing and living.
"i miss you all," you whispered to the void... thinking about jun-hee, dae-ho, jung-bae, young-mi, se-mi, and gi-hun.... the friends of yours that were lost.
hyunju stepped out onto the balcony after cleaning up, wrapping a blanket around you after you told her about your late friends.
"they'd be proud of you, y/n," she responded.
overall, the fourth year started to give you hope again.
on the fifth year, you could not recall most of what had happened in the games. maybe it was your brain blocking that memory out, just to save yourself.
it took strength you didn't know you had to get into this spot.
the apartment is home, filled with plants you tend, books on trauma you annotate.
hyunju opened up her own dojo... and it is thriving since she's a mentor, strong and soft with all of her students and clients. you work remotely, finding a hobby to keep yourself occupied and happy since it is a creative outlet that doesn't demand the world.
therapy is now once a month, compared to when it used to be twice a week during the first three years.
this christmas, there was no snow, shockingly. you wake to hyunju's arms, with the white noise machine playing a vibrational peaceful sound. there is a pretty glowing tree in the living room this year that you pit up yourself, something hyun-ju is obsessed with.
breakfast for christmas is pancakes, with red and green sprinkles along with some rice. you laughed when batter splatters hyun-jus nose when she mixed the batter together in a small bowl.
after exchanging presents your wife and you took a walk in the park, hand in hand, watching kids build snowmen without fear.
you donated anonymously to orphanages, 20 million won, hoping that you could give another child some comfort that you were not given yourself.
on the couch in the evening, you watched a christmas movie. it was growth, since you were not resentful of the holiday anymore.
hyunju joined you later on the couch, with her head rested on your shoulder.
"merry christmas, love." she mumbles.
you turn, kissing her on the head, "merry christmas."
the white noise still hums from your bedroom, and you realize that time does heal most wounds.
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Not much initially, but once she's grown to know and trust you, she likes hugging you with all her strength, holding you so tightly as if someone might try to steal you away from her.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
You would meet her on a random day, whether you bump into each other at a shop, or even during the games themselves. She's supportive and always there through every up and down in your life. Need someone to celebrate with? Need a shoulder to cry on? She's always there no matter what.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
She loves cuddling, holding you in your arms. She lets you rest your head against her chest. She likes to feel the rhythm of your breath pulsing against her and the warmth of your body seeping into hers. She keeps her arms around your torso, her grip relaxed but grounding.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
It took a while for Hyun-Ju to admit it to herself, but she still wants to settle down with someone. She still wants someone who could love her as a woman and be with her every morning. She's not very good at cooking or cleaning, but she's willing to learn and improve for you.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Hyun-Ju would preface the conversation with listing your good qualities, before explaining why she wants to break up. She reassures you that it's not your fault and that it doesn't make you any less worthy of love or a partner. She tries to do it in the most gentle way possible, not wanting to hurt you.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Hyun-Ju usually likes to wait, but if she really feels that you're right for her, she's quick to commit. She doesn't rush marriage, but she would prefer it to happen as soon as possible.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
She balances firmness and gentleness easily, reserving them for the appropriate situation. She's gentle when she can see that you're upset or that you need it, but she can also be firm and direct when telling you what she believes is best for you and her.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Hyun-Ju loves hugs, taking every opportunity to hug you. Her forearms are powerful, squeezing at your ribs.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
She takes her time, only saying it when she's sure she'll truly mean it.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
She gets jealous very easily, even if she doesn't outright express it. It can be something as small as someone's gaze lingering on you too long. Her jealousy manifests in sudden overprotectiveness and clinginess, and it often takes a while for her to calm down afterwards. Her jealousy may even linger as long as days at a time.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Her kisses have force behind them, not enough to hurt you, but enough to press against your skin and excite you. She likes kissing you on your lips and forehead, and likes being kissed on her face and forehead as well as her lips, neck, shoulders and forearms.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
She's relaxed around children. Many describe her as bringing a sort of "cool wine aunt" vibe that many children would enjoy. She doesn't quite realize it, but she would be an amazing mother.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Hyun-Ju likes to be active, so both of you go on walks and hikes together after breakfast. Even if you're struggling or tired, she'll always slow down to keep pace with you. She'll also take aesthetic photos of you if you ask, making sure everything is the exact angle and lighting that you want. Her entire camera roll is filled with photos of you from these mornings alone.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
When you don't feel like cooking, you order takeout, usually Thai food. You both cuddle on the couch after dinner, spending the night watching romcoms and dramas. If Hyun-Ju and you are feeling up to it, you decide to try and recreate the spicier scenes with each other.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
She likes to reveal things slowly about herself, and will only reveal everything at once if she's decided that she really trusts you. This usually doesn't happen until after you've opened up to her first.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
While she gets frustrated easily, she has generally good control of her emotions and won't take it out on you or others. She only feels truly angry when she sees you doing something that will harm you in the long-run, or exhibiting genuinely toxic or manipulative behavior.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
She always remembers everything about you. You mentioned you like a certain type of cuisine? She's ordering it for dinner that night. She sees you reading a certain type of book? You end up receiving a book of the same genre for your birthday. She knows all your likes and dislikes like the back of your hand.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
When she tried on a dress for the first time in Thailand and you practically jumped up and down, squealing about how amazing it looked on her. It was the first time she felt confidence in herself and how her body looked.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Extremely protective. She gets worried when you're gone, and she always checks in with you. On the street, she's quick to guard you from anyone who she thinks may harass you for being with her. She greatly appreciates it when you protect her, but doesn't want you risking yourself to do it.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
She puts a lot of effort into the relationship
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
She tends to make quick, impulsive decisions based on what she wants in the moment rather than what would be logically better in the long run. If not managed properly, this has the potential to ruin your relationship.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Due to years of harassment over her gender identity and being trans, she is extremely self-conscious. She worries over her appearance, fearing the comments of strangers and hostile glances of people on the street. It takes a while for her to get ready, and she has to make sure her hair is perfect, her clothes are flattering and that nothing is out of place before she leaves the house.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Yes. She will always feel like she's missing an important part of herself whenever you aren't around, even if you've just left the room for a few minutes.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Mango sticky rice is her favorite food. You convinced her to try it when you went to Thailand for vacation, and she was immediately hooked.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Hyun-Ju doesn't like people who are close-minded and unwilling to listen to others' perspectives on certain issues. She also especially dislikes people whose loyalty constantly shifts based on convenience.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Hyun-Ju always wraps her legs around yours under the blanket whenever you share a bed together, as if wanting to shield you even in your sleep.
cho hyunju x f!reader and adoptivesister!kim jun-hee x f!reader
THIS IS CHAPTER NINE TO MY SERIES LINKED HERE
synopsis: one sacrifice shatters your last hope of survival, which only leaves screams and an unfillable void inside of your heart.
warnings: major character death, mentions of suicide, angst, the fifth game, blood.
you don’t remember waking up.
one moment you’re lost in sleep, and the next you’re screaming from your throat as hyun-ju’s arms clamp around you. luckily, her military strength holds you back from a sight that would’ve shattered your heart into irreparable pieces if it weren’t already fractured.
your eyes, wide and burning with tears, are locked on geum-ja’s lifeless figure, hanging from a bunk just forty feet away in the back of the dorm.
the woman's small body sways slightly in the metallic air, with a noose fashioned from torn bedsheets around her neck.
the image is stamped into your mind.
geum-ja, the woman who became the mother you never had, who saw your worth when no one else did, is gone. she ended her life, consumed by the guilt of yong-sik’s death which is a guilt you carry too.
your knife was the catalyst for his end, even if the guards’ bullets claimed him.
players come awake with some groaning in annoyance at your screams, others blinking in confusion, but you barely register them. your world narrows to the horror before you with your chest heaving, your voice breaking as you cry out, “why? why, geum-ja?”
the words are a desperate plea, a scream against the unfairness of this place, and this place that strips away everything good. junhee wakes, her face pale, her eyes darting to you, then following your gaze.
your sister's gasp is lazy from tiredness with her hand flying to her mouth as she sees geum-ja, and she clutches sunhee tightly, tears streaming down her face.
the only mother she had too, the woman who guided her through childbirth, who cradled her daughter with love, is gone.
junhee’s sobs join yours, a chorus of grief that fills the dorm but you’re drowning in your own pain and with the heartbreak a physical ache.
hyun-ju holds you tighter, her own tears wetting your shoulder. your woman's strength is the only thing keeping you from rushing to geum-ja, from shaking her, from begging her to come back.
“y/n, please,” she whispers, “you can’t—they’ll hurt you.”
the guards, with their pink masks looming in your peripheral vision, stand ready with the coffin as they bring her body down from the noose. you know hyunju is right, but the urge to run to geum-j and to cut her down, and to hold her one last time, is overwhelming.
your screams echo with release of the dread that’s been building since the games began, now exploding in the face of this unbearable truth.
the digital trilling from the screen behind you is a cruel intrusion, with the piggy bank filling with money for geum-ja’s death, her life was reduced to a transaction. you ignore it as your eyes are stuck on her dead form going into the coffin.
she’s gone, her guilt over yong-sik is a guilt you share, driving her to this. you feel it too, the crushing weight of causing his death, of failing her, of failing everyone.
your sobs choke you and your vision blurs as the dorm spins.
what’s the point of surviving if everyone you love is taken?
if this game keeps stealing until there’s nothing left?
hyun-ju guides you to the bunk, her arms never loosening around your waist, with her own tears falling silently as she sits you beside junhee.
sunhee coos softly, oblivious to the grief, and junhee clutches her daughter, her face crumpled with loss. you stare ahead, your eyes dull, and your soul hollowed out.
the woman you called mother, who called you daughter, is dead, and the void she leaves is a chasm you can’t fathom crossing.
hyun-ju sits close with her hand on your back but even her warmth can’t reach the cold dread settling in your bones.
you’re dead inside, unaware of what fate will bring you next.
the speaker crackles, “attention please, the fifth game will begin momentarily. please follow the directions of our staff.”
the words are distant and meaningless against your pain. you close your eyes, the darkness behind your lids is an escape as you wonder if this fifth game will be your last.
or if you should make it your last.
the thought is a whisper, seductive in its simplicity... to end it, to stop the suffering, to join geum-ja in whatever comes next. the dread is suffocating, and the fear of more loss, more blood, and more death is something you do not want to happen.
however, a soft coo breaks through your thoughts and it is a tiny sound that goes through the fog of despair. you open your eyes, turning to see sunhee, her wide eyes gazing at you, her tiny mouth open in a curious gurgle.
the sight of her, so small, so innocent, pulls you back from the edge.
you nudge junhee, your voice barely a whisper.
“can i?”
your sister nods with her tears still falling, and passes sunhee to you. you cradle her, rocking gently since you want her to feel connection, even if it is cold. tears threaten again, but not from grief.
she deserves a world of light, not this prison of blood and destruction.
“the fifth game will begin momentarily,” the speaker repeats, but you barely hear it, your eyes locked on sunhee’s face, her delicate features is a mirror of junhee’s.
you stand, still holding her, then carefully place her on the bunk, your hands trembling.
you, junhee, and hyun-ju exchange glances, a silent debate flickering in your eyes.
should sunhee come with you to the game?
will the dorm be safe, or will the guards take her, punish her for existing?
the thought of leaving her behind and vulnerable, twists your gut with dread, but bringing her into the unknown of the fifth game is its own terror.
your heart pounds in ache but sunhee’s presence demands that you fight, and it demands you choose life for her sake.
you pick her up again, her tiny body nestled against your chest, and look at junhee, who nods.
“are you… sure?” hyun-ju asks, her voice a mumble, her eyes searching yours, worry stuck into her features.
you nod, “she’s coming,”
soon you ascend the colorful pink stairs, their once-vibrant hues now marred by grey bullet holes, with wounds in the concrete that mirror the scars on your soul.
sunhee rests in your arms, her soft breaths is a reminder of why you must keep moving.
behind you, hyun-ju supports junhee, her strong hands steadying your sister’s limping form. junhee’s face is pale and contorted with the agony of postpartum recovery, since she had childbirth without medical aid leaving her body frail, her steps uneven.
you force yourself not to turn, not to see the pain in her features, knowing it would unravel you further.
focus on the fifth game, focus on the fifth game, focus on the fifth game.
you try to tell yourself but you’re terrified, and nearly paralyzed by the pressure of protecting yourself, your postpartum sister, and a newborn in this.
while thinking about it too hard, you stop walking abruptly with your legs trembling, and hyun-ju and junhee halt behind you, their breaths heavy in the tense silence.
your heart pounds and dread takes over you with your mind spiraling with the impossibility of keeping them safe. sunhee’s warmth against your chest is both a comfort and a burden, and her innocence is a contrast to the violence that awaits up the stairs.
you’re frozen. at least until a masculine voice cuts through the haze, “y/n.”
you turn, and your eyes meet gi-hun’s.
he’s covered in faint bloodstains, his face is drained however his gaze drops to sunhee, softening, and he extends his arms.
“let me hold her,” he offers.
you glance at junhee, her eyes are hesitant but she nods, trusting him in this moment of fragility. you carefully pass sunhee to gi-hun, her tiny form cradled in his arms, and your chest tightens, a mix of relief and fear.
you look up the stairs, catching myunggi’s gaze, his eyes lingering on the scene before he turns away, his face unreadable.
rage flares in your chest because how dare he? not once has he checked on junhee, not once offered support for his daughter. gi-hun, a stranger in comparison, steps up, while myunggi, the father, hides in his cowardice.
you hope the fifth game isn’t a fighting one... for myunggi’s sake, because the anger burning in you could unleash something deadly.... again.
you move to help hyun-ju with junhee, your arm slipping around your sister’s waist and her weight leans into you as hyun-ju supports her other side.
gi-hun walks ahead, sunhee secure in his arms, and the stairs seem endless, each step a battle against the dread that threatens to consume you.
the silence is heavy, broken only by junhee’s labored breaths, until she speaks.
“i was afraid i’d end up on my own again if i didn’t keep the baby.”
you pause as you glance at her. you see that her eyes are distant as she continues walking. you resume your steps, her words sinking in, heavy with meaning, “y/n and i were the only people we had,” she says with her voice trembling, “i figured the baby was going to be our family, someone who’d be with us forever since our own families were not.”
tears prick your eyes, since the truth of her words cuts deep in your mind. the orphanage, the loneliness, the bond you forged in those cold bunks... it’s all you’ve ever known, and sunhee was meant to be your forever, your light.
hyun-ju’s hand reaches over and rests on your back, a promise that you’re not alone anymore. well, at least until death might claim one of you.
you fight the urge to break down.
“no matter how hard it might’ve been, i thought having my own baby would make me happier,” junhee continues, “but because of me… yong-sik and geum-ja are—”
“no,” you cut her off, desperate to stop her from going into a state of dread like yourself.
she looks at you, her eyes wide, as gi-hun turns, his face etched with sorrow, and hyun-ju’s gaze softens with empathy.
“junhee, it was my fault. i killed yong-sik, and geum-ja couldn’t handle that. don’t blame yourself for my—”
“but you killed him because he was gonna get me,” junhee interrupts you, “you had no choice.”
“neither of you had a choice,” hyun-ju says while cutting through the tension, “it was nobody’s fault except for the ones above.”
hyunju's words point to the faceless people of this game, and the architects of your suffering.
gi-hun, his face lighting with a fragile hope speaks up, “i also had a daughter, junhee.”
you look at him, understanding dawning as his instant paternal instinct, his willingness to carry sunhee, makes sense now, “i was never a good father,” he admits, “but after watching my daughter grow up after she was born… it was the happiest moments of my life.”
gihun's words start a quiet ache in you, and a wonder if your own parents ever felt that joy, if they ever looked at you with love before they were taken.
“protect your baby, no matter what,” he says to junhee.
“yeah,” you add, your voice resolute despite the tears threatening to fall, “in the next game, only worry about her.” junhee’s brows flare, her eyes searching yours. you press on, echoing last night’s conversation.
“don’t worry about me, not at all, okay?”
“we’ll help you,” hyun-ju reassures, her hand still on your back.
junhee nods as her tears slow, accepting help for the first time.
another flight of stairs and the stairs finally end, and you know you’ve reached the fifth game.
the warm lights shift to a cold, blueish hue as you step through the doors, the change in atmosphere chilling your already frayed nerves.
your eyes widen at the sight of two massive dolls looming on opposite sides of the room... the one girl doll from red light green light, and the other which is a new boy the girl doll's counterpart
the speaker crackles, its voice cold and mechanical.
“welcome. the fifth game you will be playing is jump rope. you must cross the bridge as you jump over the rotating rope and get to the other side in twenty minutes. you may decide the order amongst yourselves.” relief flickers briefly since it’s not a team game this time, and no betrayal is required... hopefully... but it’s drowned by terror at the sight of the bridgeless void.
gi-hun gently guides junhee to a bench, with hyun-ju supporting her as she winces with every step.
you stand frozen as you suddenly hear namgyu panting beside you with his breaths erratic, and his hands scratching at his arms in withdrawal.
“are you afraid of heights?” you mumble, hoping he doesn’t hear, your voice barely audible over the players who question everything in fear.
“ye-yes,” he stammers, his eyes wild.
however, that was not enough.
“y/n.”
namgyu says before the jump rope’s heavy whip against the air jolts everyone, its speed very fast.
your fear spikes, your heart pounding so hard you feel it in your throat, “have you seen a cross necklace? the one i had from last game when you were with lee myunggi?” namgyu asks, his voice frantic.
you shake your head, distracted. before namgyu could say anything else you step away as player 125 approaches namgyu.
waling over to junhee on the bench, you stand as hyun-ju’s hand finds yours, with her fingers steadying your shaking ones. your face is dull, with nausea rising as you fight the urge to vomit.
“junhee, you come with me, and y/n, you stick with hyun-ju,” gi-hun says over the start of some weird music and the jump rope’s roar hitting the wind inside.
“what about the baby?” hyun-ju asks, her voice tight with worry.
“the game will be over in twenty minutes. we can leave her here and pick her up after,” gi-hun suggests, his tone practical but strained.
however... a pink-suited masked manager approaches, “all players must cross the bridge in the given time limit,” he says, his masked gaze dropping to sunhee, “any player who fails to cross will be eliminated.”
junhee’s voice rises, defiant despite her pain, “my baby is not a player.”
anger surges in your chest... this has to be a sick joke.
“everyone here is a player,” the guard states and his voice is flat.
you step forward, planting yourself in his masked face, your voice nearly a yell.
“don’t be stupid! the baby didn’t sign those illegal contracts five days ago! she has nothing to do with this!” your boldness is cut short by a rifle’s click.
you look over as a second guard aims a rifle at you, the first training his pistol gun on your head.
junhee gasps, with hyun-ju lunging to shield you, but gi-hun pulls her back.
“any player who fails to cross the bridge within the time limit will be eliminated,” the guard repeats, final.
you exhale, frustration and fear leaving when the guard's drop their rifles and walk away.
hyun-ju’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder, grounding you, but you’re too zoned out to notice gi-hun’s plan forming behind you.
a collective gasp snaps you back into reality when namgyu leaps onto the bridge, chasing a glinting object, a cross necklace, thrown onto the track.
how it was there? you did not know or see.
namgyu jumps perfectly at first, with his fear of heights forgotten in his mania. however he pauses for some reason, and the jump rope slams into him.
your old ex-coworker's scream pierces the air as he plummets, and the sickening thud of his body hitting the abyss below echos up here above.
“player 124, eliminated,” the speaker announces.
while zoned out while gihun was talking about his plan... you see gi-hun stepping to the track next, with sunhee bundled in his jacket. this is where you realize what he’s doing.
you lunge to stop him, but hyun-ju pulls you back.
“he’s got this,” she says, her voice strained but encouraging.
you collapse to your knees, gagging, refusing to watch as you don't believe in this plan that is already being taken place. your eyes are stuck on the ground. junhee watches and shame burns in you, but you can’t look.
after a minute when cheers erupt, you glance up and see that gi-hun and sunhee are across.
“player 456, passed,” the speaker calls.
relief floods you and you start to stand up with tears spilling as hyun-ju hugs you tightly.
“come on,” she says, pulling you to your feet, her hand in yours.
you flinch, realizing she means you’re next.
“junhee,” you say gripping her hand while you are still close.
“i can’t,” she whispers, pointing to her swollen ankle.
“i’m not going until she does,” you say to hyun-ju, your voice firm despite your shaking.
“we have a plan,” hyun-ju says while hesitant “you cross, then i’ll come back for junhee.”
“i don’t need the help, i’m not injured,” you argue, but your voice trembles.
“you’re shaking and barely talking,” she counters.
with twelve minutes left, junhee nods, urging you to go.
“we’ll come back for you,” you promise to your sister before turning to you step to the bridge, swallowing hard.
before you could debate anything... you run on the track and jump the rope with near-perfect timing which time. your heart is in your throat as the gap in the middle looms, but you clear it, cheers erupting behind you.
it took you twenty seconds to clear the track as you reach the other side, collapsing by the flower bed.
“player 221, passed.”
however, your eyes snap to hyun-ju and junhee, still at the start.
“what are they doing?” you ask gi-hun, panic rising.
“we knew you wouldn’t cross without them,” he sighs, “while you were zoned out, we planned for you to go first so hyun-ju could help junhee.”
anger flares, but you’re cut off as player 096 crosses the bridge. afterwards, your horrified as he starts pushing other players behind him off, with their screams echoing as they fall.
“don’t look at me like that,” he sneers at your horror, “the three of us can push everyone else and split 15.2 billion won.”
gi-hun starts to fight him, but your eyes are on junhee as she is talking to hyun-ju and myunggi, her face discouraged. hyun-ju is overwhelmed, and myunggi is somewhat yelling.
four minutes remain, and neither has crossed.
“come on!” you scream, tears burning.
junhee shakes her head as hyun-ju stands, and myunggi starts jumping the rope. hyun-ju follows soon after myunggi, crossing successfully.
you look at your sister, wondering why neither hyunju or myunggi started to help her. little did you know, she refused the help.
junhee limps toward the doll, not the track.
“junhee, stay there, i’m coming!” gi-hun yells. you look over at him before turning shockingly when junhee shouts, “mr. seong, no!”
you freeze, then run towards the track.
“y/n, stop!” junhee screams.
“let me help you!” you yell, anger and desperation choking your voice to the point where it is so raspy that you can barely talk without your throat hurting.
“y/n, do not come back!” she pleads, limping not toward the track but the platform’s edge.
your heart stops, hands shaking as you realize her intent.
“no! the track is this way!” you scream, gi-hun and hyun-ju watching in horror.
“junhee, let one of us help!” hyun-ju yells, her voice rasping too.
“i’m coming!” you shout, but junhee screams, “no! all three of you stay where you are!” the woman's eyes lock on yours, and you stare back as your vision blurs with sobs.
you refuse to believe this is it, your mind is screaming denial.
“y/n, if you don’t make it, my baby won’t either,” she says, her voice breaking. you shake your head, tears streaming, “no! she needs her mother!” your voice is pleading so much that you can barely. breathe.
“you promised geum-ja you’d protect my baby, no matter what,” junhee says, “and to protect you!” you cry, gasping, your chest heaving.
“please, y/n, i’m protecting her too!” she sobs with her face crumpling.
you lunge for the track, but hyun-ju grabs your green jacket, holding you back. you don’t feel it since your eyes fixed on junhee.
your sister's crying face is the last thing you see. it felt like your mind was playing tricks on you when you saw her foot stepping off the platform into the dark and flowered abyss.
“junheeeeee!” your scream is blood-curdling from your lungs.
your body would've collapsed to chase junhee if it weren't for hyun-ju’s arms catch you in time. she pulls you from the edge as you fight the realization of what happened.
junhee... your sister, your only family, the girl you shared bunks with, who protected you, who gave you sunhee, who chose death to save her daughter, to save you.
“player 222, eliminated,” is drowned by your screams, the timer hitting zero as you scream so loudly that the echos even reached the sound booth of the billionaires watching.
synopsis ━ your fiancee, an ex-marine, never seems to feel scared about anything. as a halloween treat, you decide to trick hyunju
notes ━ this is a request by @hyunjusbiggestfan
you’ve been holding an idea in your mind for the past few days.
this started when hyunju starting bragging about nothing scaring her. at a haunted house you took her to last week, hyunju flinched at nothing. anything that made you scream, hyunju saw coming from a mile away.
it intrigued you, because how?
so tonight, you’re proving her wrong.
or at least you'll make her blink.
it is halloween and it smells like the autumn candle you stuck in the corner of the living room coffee table and the microwave popcorn hyunju’s tearing open.
she’s on the couch in one of your old hoodies with feet on the coffee table, scrolling through a horror meme thread.
the apartment’s dim, just the string lights and the tv flickering with some friday the 13th rerun she’s already mocking about being too fake for 1980s cgi.
“babe,” you call from the kitchen with your voice wobbly on purpose, “i don’t feel good.”
she doesn’t look up.
“you ate three slices of that gas-station pizza. baby I told you the might happen!”
you clutch your stomach, shuffle into the living room holding a glass of “water” you prepped an hour ago... it is corn syrup, red food coloring, a drop of dish soap for bubbles.
it’s a bright shade of red, unrealistic.
you take a dramatic sip, swirl it in your mouth, then lurch forward.
“hyunju—”
you gag, loud and wet. the liquid splatters across the rug in a bright, syrupy arc. you double over, coughing more onto your hand, letting it drip between your fingers.
the color glows under the orange bulbs from above, obscene and glossy.
hyunju’s on her feet in half a second, popcorn bowl forgotten.
“what the fuc-- y/n, look at me. breathe.” her voice is calm but sharp, the tone she used to use on rookies back in the day.
she’s beside you, hand on your back, scanning for real danger.
you keep coughing, milking it, smearing the “blood” on your chin.
“it hurts...”
as you hold the liquid, hyunju pauses and tilts her head. the woman's fingers come away from your cheek sticky and neon as she lightly smells the sweet stench of the "blood".
“this,” she says slowly, “is the exact shade of the cherry slushie from the corner store.”
you freeze, mid-gag.
of course the rug looks like a crime scene in a kids’ cartoon.
hyunju squints at the glass on the floor, then at you.
“corn syrup. and… soap bubbles?” she sniffs her fingers, “definitely soap.”
you straighten, wiping your mouth with the back of your wrist. the red smears like finger paint.
“um. surprise?”
for a second she just stares then her shoulders start shaking. hyunju has a laugh that comes out of her, unstoppable.
she flops back onto the couch, dragging you with her by the sleeve.
“you're a mess,” she wheezes, “i was two seconds from calling 911 since i thought you ruptured something.”
“you jumped,” you point out, “your eyes went wide.”
“they did not.” she pinches your side ribcage, “they assessed. big difference.”
you lick a drop of the fake bloodyour thumb. it tastes like melted popsicle, “admit it. i got you.”
she looks at the rug, the sticky puddle already soaking in.
“you got the carpet, not me.” she sighs, but her arm loops around your waist, tugging you closer, “and you’re cleaning that with the steam mop... and buying new rugs.”
“worth it,” you mumble into her shoulder.
she kisses the top of your head, still chuckling.
“next time use actual fake blood. the good stuff. none of this craft-store nonsense.”
cho hyunju x f!reader and adoptivesister!kim jun-hee x f!reader
THIS IS CHAPTER SEVEN TO MY SERIES LINKED HERE
synopsis: you realize how far you'll go to protect your sister, and your niece.
warnings: angst, mentions of death, the fourth game, birth, graphic descriptions of murder and death, reader commits murder, greed, changes to the plot to fit this story
the rebellion collapsed.
you knew it the second daeho ran down into the dorm rooms to look for more ammo. there was no way a small army would've defeated the bigger ones upstairs. the pink guards had home advantage.
sitting with junhee downstairs, your body pressed protectively against hers, your heart pounding as dae-ho stumbled back in, his face pale, his hands empty after failing to collect ammo for the rebels upstairs.
he panicked, diving in the corner of the room to hide after chickening out. hyun-ju had rushed in after him, her movements swift, trying to retrieve the magazines before the guards stormed the dorm, their guns blasting at the ceiling in a deafening roar to restore order.
the sound shook you to your core, and you threw yourself over junhee, shielding her pregnant body as plaster dust rained down, the air thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder.
upstairs, everyone else.... jung-bae, gyeongseok, the others... died, their rebellion ended in a hail of bullets.
“did dae-ho get ptsd?” junhee whispered to you, her voice trembling as she still clung to you, her hand on her belly.
you shook your head, your eyes fixed on dae-ho’s trembling form across the dorm.
“no... because he never served in the military in the first place.”
“how do you know that?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
“it was obvious, due to the way he held the gun. plus, he had the same look in his eyes that i had when i used to lie to kids at school about having rich parents,” you said, your voice low, bitter.
“its the damaged kids who pretend to have an ideal life, when it’s all a facade.”
the memory of those lies, spun to hide the orphanage’s shame, stung. you saw your childhood mirrored in daeho's eyes.
for a while, an uneasy calm settled over the dorm. you were shaky, looking over at hyunju who sat beside geum-ja looking defeated, and ashamed.
after a while, the heavy doors creaked open again.
a group of pink-masked guards marched in, carrying a black and pink coffin. your breath caught, fear clawing at your chest as you wondered if they were bringing a dead body to prove a point, to break what little spirit remained.
the guards set the coffin down in the center of the dorm and left without a word, their silence more chilling than any threat.
players drifted toward it, drawn by morbid curiosity, their footsteps hesitant.
you moved forward, positioning yourself in front of hyun-ju, beside junhee, your heart racing as you approached the coffin.
you and hyun-ju knelt, your hands trembling as you examined the sleek, ominous box.
with a shared glance, you lifted the lid slowly with hyunju, the hinges creaking.
inside lay gi-hun, his face pale, his eyes closed.
you gasped, the sound echoing in the stunned silence.
“is he dead?” someone whispered, voices overlapping in a frantic murmur.
hyun-ju leaned in, her fingers pressing against his neck, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“he’s alive,” she said, her voice steady but laced with relief.
you, yong-sik, and hyun-ju carefully lifted gi-hun from the coffin, his body limp but warm, and carried him to a nearby bunk. geum-ja hovered close, her hands clasped tightly, her eyes wide with worry.
it didn’t take long for gi-hun to stir, his eyebrows twitching, his eyelids fluttering before they opened, revealing bloodshot eyes.
“sir?” geum-ja asked, her voice shaking.
“oh my goodness, sir? you’re alive!” she exclaimed, tears brimming.
yong-sik leaned in, his stressed face etched with concern.
“are you alright?”
you, junhee, and hyun-ju stood at the foot of the bunk, your hands clasped tightly, your bruised foot throbbing but forgotten in the moment.
gi-hun sat up slowly, his gaze distant, haunted.
“where are the others?” he asked hyun-ju, his voice rough.
she shook her head, her eyes glistening. it was s silent confirmation that the others died.
“jung-bae?” she asked gi-hun, her voice catching, and gi-hun shook his head, confirming the worst.
a heavy silence fell, the weight of loss pressing down on everyone.
players gathered around, their faces a mix of grief and fear, mourning the rebellion’s failure.
you stood beside junhee, your shoulder brushing hers, but your eyes drifted to dae-ho, ten feet away, trembling in a corner. the man's failure to retrieve the ammo had cost lives, and though you didn’t blame him entirely, the sting of his lie... his false bravado about being a marine... was stick on you.
he met your gaze, his eyes wide with guilt, then looked away, shrinking further into himself.
the doors opened again, and triangle-masked guards marched in, their guns gleaming under the lights.
one clicked a remote, and the ceiling rumbled as the piggy bank descended, its transparent surface filling with stacks of cash. the speaker announced, “thirty-five players were eliminated in the special game last night. sixty players remain.”
you shivered, the number sinking in... only sixty left, the odds of survival dwindling with every game.
the influx of money, blood money for the dead, felt like a taunt.
the guards called for the vote, and gi-hun staggered to his feet, his face contorted with rage and grief.
“why did you let me live?” he shouted at the guards, his voice raspy from pain, “why not the others? kill me!” he lunged forward, his hands balled into fists as he held the guard's gun barrel to his own head. the guards seized him, cuffing him to the bunk as he screamed, his desperation tearing at your heart.
you looked away, unable to watch as everyone else did.
the vote unfolded, and despite the carnage, the majority chose to stay.
you shook your head by the end of the voting. the realization hit hard since there was no democracy here anymore. players were killing each other over votes, the line between survival and murder blurring. you voted to leave, clinging to the hope of getting junhee out, of seeing her baby born in a hospital, not this slaughterhouse for the rich.
player 100 and player 226, two o voters, approached gi-hun later.
“you got people killed on purpose,” player 100 sneered, his finger pointing at gi-hun’s chest from afar, “you wanted this bloodbath. you set this up, didnt you?” he laughed.
you sighed, regret flickering in your chest as the o voters walked away after causing more pain to a quiet gi-hun.
“i told you that you should’ve let me kill them,” you said to gi-hun, nodding toward the o voters, your voice low with lingering anger from the night before.
junhee swatted your shoulder.
“stop that,” she said, her tone firm, her eyes warning you to let it go.
you glanced at hyun-ju, who stood nearby, her expression unreadable, offering no reaction to your words. the woman's silence stung, a reminder of the distance between you since the kiss, your unspoken feelings hanging heavy.
during mealtime, you clutched your water bottle, your stomach too knotted to eat. you pushed your sweet potato toward junhee, knowing she needed it more.
“you need to eat, y/n,” she said, her voice soft but insistent, pushing the potato back.
“you need it more,” you countered, your eyes pleading.
“no, keep your food,” she said, her tone final.
before you could argue, myunggi approached, silently placing his sweet potato on junhee’s tray before walking away, not giving her a chance to refuse since he knew that sweet potatoes were her favorite.
you watched him go, his back stiff, and a flicker of gratitude mixed with your distrust.
geum-ja approached gi-hun later, her voice gentle.
“i know you were just trying to save us all,” she said, her hands clasped tightly.
“you were trying to punish the bad guys and put an end to this.” her words stirred something in you.
you had gratitude since you did not join the rebellion. hyunju made you stay with junhee, safe but haunted by the cost.
“i’m sorry,” hyun-ju said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes downcast, “i should’ve found a way to bring back the magazines.”
you frowned, reaching for her arm, your touch light but firm.
“hyun-ju, that wasn’t your fault,” you said, your voice soft, reassuring. “you have nothing to apologize for.”
yong-sik piped up, his face full with shame.
“it’s all dae-ho’s fault,” he said, pointing at dae-ho, who sat alone in a corner, clutching his water bottle, his eyes hollow.
geum-ja shook her head.
“blame won’t bring anyone back,” she said, her voice full with wisdom and sorrow.
during lights out, guards lined up in the center of the dorm, their presence a threat. you slept on the bunk beside junhee’s, the first decent rest you’d had in this place, exhaustion pulling you under.
what you did not know was that junhee laid awake, her face contorted with pain, her hands clutching her belly as contractions gripped her.
she didn’t wake you, her stubbornness keeping her silent, but the pain was a warning.
the baby was coming, and time was running out.
when you woke, the lights came on. all of the dread coiled in your gut since it was a premonition of the fourth game looming.
the air felt heavier, the dorm was quieter, and the sixty remaining players moved out like ghosts.
you sat up, glancing at junhee, her face pale, her breaths shallow. the fourth game was here, and with it, the terror of what it would demand, of whether you could keep her and her baby safe or not.
you ascend the colorful pink and blue stairs, now marred grey with bullet holes, each step a reminder of the rebellion’s brutal end. your body trembles, horror seeping into your bones as you walk behind hyun-ju, her broad shoulders a shield against the nightmare ahead.
junhee follows closely, her breaths shallow, her hand grazing your back for reassurance.
above, in the center of the vast room, a grotesque human chandelier looms.
a macabre display of the rebellion players’ bodies, their limbs twisted, shoulders dislocated, blood dripping in slow, dark rivulets to the floor so many feet below.
the sight steals the color from your skin, your stomach churning as you realize it could’ve been you hanging there, lifeless, if hyun-ju hadn’t convinced you to stay with junhee.
your heart pounds, a cold sweat breaking out as you grip hyun-ju’s shoulder, your fingers digging into her jacket, using her heightto block the horrific scene.
the speaker crackles to life, its cold, mechanical voice slicing through the stunned fear in everyone's hearts.
“you are now witnessing the fate of those who refused to participate in the democratic process of voting.” your throat constricts, a suffocating panic rising as you press closer to hyun-ju, your eyes fixed on the back of her neck, avoiding the bodies above.
“these players instead attempted to stop the games by using violent means. we will not tolerate any irrational behavior which attempts to destroy the fair rules of this game, and such actions will be punished in accordance with our strict standards. we thank you again for your cooperation.”
the words land like blows and your legs feel like they might give out. you feel shame for your relief but you force yourself to move, knowing the weakness is mostly mental, a trick of your frayed nerves.
junhee’s presence behind you, her quiet strength despite her own fear, urges you forward.
you cling to hyun-ju’s shoulder, her solidity grounding you, as the remaining sixty players shuffle onward, their faces pale and terrified wondering if their death was ahead.
continuing to follow hyun-ju, you walk slowly with your eyes widened in fear while junhee shuffles behind you, her breaths shallow, her hand brushing your back for stability, her pregnant belly slowing her pace.
after the last flight of stairs you enter a yellow room, the walls grey though.
as you walk in, slowly but cautious, you see a gumball machine looming in the center, its glossy surface reflecting all of the players who are still alive.
“welcome to your fourth game,” the speaker announces, “this game will be played in two teams.”
players shuffle forward, each drawing a colored gumball that is red or bluefrom the machine.
you let junhee go first, and she pulls out a red one. your hand trembles as you pull a red one too, your heart sinking like a stone. geum-ja draws red as well, their expressions mirroring your dread, while hyun-ju and yong-sik pull blue.
the rules allow switching with mutual consent once the rules are explained. however, your stomach pulls into knots as junhee is convinced on trading with myunggi, her color turning blue, aligning her with the prey.
geum-ja follows, switching with yong-sik, her maternal instinct driving her to protect her son by taking his blue gumball.
you clutch your red gumball, desperation clawing at your chest as you turn to hyun-ju, your voice breaking.
“please, switch with me,” you plead, tears pricking your eyes, “i can’t let junhee be blue by herself. she’s too vulnerable.”
hyun-ju’s gaze softens, her eyes warm but resolute as she shakes her head.
“no, y/n. I can protect her, since red is safer for you. you’re a hunter in this game. the blue players are prey.” hyunju'd voice is steady, but a flicker of fear betrays her calm, her hand twitching as if she wants to reach for you but stops herself.
junhee steps closer, her hand resting protectively on her swollen belly, her face pale but determined as she holds your arm.
“y/n, you and myunggi will protect me. i’ll be okay as blue.”
you stare at her, horror flooding your veins like ice water.
“you think myunggi will protect you after all he’s done?” your voice cracks, anger and fear tangling in your throat.
“he’s the reason we’re here, junhee!”
she looks down, sadness clouding her eyes, but there’s a stubborn hope in her expression, a belief that myunggi can still be redeemed, that he can be the father her baby needs.
you can’t see it, not after the loan sharks he brought to your door, the threats that forced you into this nightmare. your hands clench, the knife issued to red players cold and heavy in your palm, its weight a reminder of the violence you’re expected to commit.
as the blue players are sent into the maze first, given a head start to hide, you watch junhee, hyun-ju, and geum-ja turn to you. their eyes linger, a silent plea for protection, for survival.
you nod, gripping the knife tighter, your knuckles whitening, promising to shield them from other red players if you find them.
the maze doors swallow them, their figures disappearing into the shadowy corridors, and you’re left among the red players, the timer above the door ticking down from one minute.
your heart pounds, each second a hammer against your nerves.
however, a presence looms beside you and you turn to see myunggi, his face still flecked with dried blood from the bathroom brawl last night, his eyes shadowed with guilt and determination.
you scoff, venom dripping from your voice.
“you couldn’t stand to see my sister not be vulnerable for once, could you?”
“be realistic,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours, unflinching, “do you think she’d get a kill as a woman who’s close to giving birth?”
you turn, glaring at him, your knife pointed low but threatening, its blade catching the yellow light.
“yes, because i would’ve gotten someone, done it halfway, and let her take their last breath.” your words are sharp, a vow forged in years of protecting each other in the orphanage’s cold halls.
myunggi’s jaw tightens, his voice low as he asks, “you’d do anything for her?”
“you know we only had each other growing up, lee myunggi,” you say, your voice cutting like glass, “you know what that means.”
myunggi looks down, shame flickering in his eyes. you look intensely as his eyes move back up, his expression softening.
“once we find junhee, we protect her in the maze.”
“i don’t trust you,” you snap, stepping closer, your knife twitching in your grip.
“yes, you do,” he argues, his voice steady.
“you might think i’m a bad person for the crypto thing, but you know i loved junhee enough to keep her safe from the loan sharks after me. you know this.”
you sigh, the timer hitting forty-five seconds, his words settling like a stone in your chest.
“fine, but i’ll kill you if you try anything stupid... dare me.”
the both of you stare at eachother intensely, knowing that you're telling the truth.
suddenly, a slick voice interrupts, loud and unwelcome.
“so i see little miss orphan knows lee myunggi.”
you turn to see namgyu, his smirk wide, his eyes glinting with a manic edge, his pupils dilated from whatever drugs he’s taken.
you roll your eyes, your patience thin.
“what do you want?”
“i want to do this with you,” he says, pointing at you and myunggi, “both of you.”
myunggi frowns, confused. namgyu despised him before, his hatred clear in the dorm’s tense fights. you feel trapped, namgyu’s shoulder pressing against yours, myunggi on your other side, their presence claustrophobic.
“do you think the blue players will just let you kill them?” namgyu asks, his voice low, taunting, his breath hot against your ear.
“of course not,” he murmurs, pulling back with a grin.
“they’ll resist. it’ll be easier if the three of us attack together.”
“i’m not a homicidal maniac, namgyu,” you say, your voice steady despite the pressure, your knife heavy in your hand, “i just want to survive.”
“i get that but listen, this isn’t a relationship,” he says, his quiet nature uncomfortable, “consider this… a one-night threesome, so to speak.”
namgyu's analogy is unhinged, but there’s a twisted logic to his plan.
myunggi glances at you, uncertain but swayed, his own desperation mirroring yours.
“y/n, when you held up that gun, ready to mow down those o voters, i knew you were still fucking awesome,” namgyu says, his voice dripping with admiration, his eyes gleaming, “like back at club pentagon, when you helped the dancers jump those drunk guys who stole cash.” you flinch, the memory of that time... hustling in seedy clubs, fighting to survive after the orphanage... burning like a brand in your chest.
you don’t want to remember that, not here, and not now.
“myunggi, when you stabbed thanos, you were fucking awesome too,” namgyu adds, his grin widening, his energy chaotic, drug-fueled.
the timer hits zero, and the speaker blares, “red team, please enter the arena.”
you clench your knife, your palms sweaty, and sigh as you follow namgyu and myunggi into the maze.
the walls are painted with glowing stars, their faint luminescence casting eerie shadows, the paths twisting like an alleyway, claustrophobic.
you spot yong-sik ahead, trembling, his knife shaking in his hand, his broken glasses slipping down his nose.
“relax, nobody’s hunting you,” you say softly while passing him, “you’re hunting them.”
yong-sik nods, but his fear is obvious.
namgyu trails ahead, ranting about hating thanos, his voice manic, tinged with the edge of drugs, his words a jumbled tirade about betrayal and vengeance.
you roll your eyes, his energy reminding you of toxic friendships from your past... homoerotic, volatile bonds that ended in backstabbing and regret.
you, myunggi, and namgyu corner a blue player.. player 235.. in a dead-end room, the walls looking like some laser game setting.
namgyu lunges, but the player tackles him, their bodies crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs. you act fast, stabbing the player’s ankle, the blade sinking deep, blood welling around the steel.
he screams, begging for his life, his eyes wild with terror. your heart lurches, hesitation freezing you and myunggi, but you stop namgyu as he raises his knife.
“if you kill him, you pass, but we don’t,” you say, gripping his wrist, your voice firm despite the tremor in your chest.
“we’ll just kill two more,” namgyu insists, his eyes gleaming with a manic hunger.
“how do we know you’ll help us after you’re done?” myunggi snaps, his voice sharp, his own knife raised.
after a minute you chase another blue player, your breaths ragged, your bruised foot throbbing with every step.
namgyu and myunggi corner them, their knives flashing, and they kill swiftly, ensuring their own passes, leaving you halfway... your kill still incomplete.
namgyu, high and erratic, rants about you needing to kill, his voice grating, his hands gesturing wildly.
“i will! now shut up,” you snap, your patience fraying.
right after that a woman’s scream echoes through the maze, desperate. you and myunggi bolt toward it, calling junhee’s name, your heart in your throat, fear screaming at your heart.
it’s not her, it is just another blue player, stabbed by a red, her blood pooling on the starry floor, her eyes wide and lifeless.
you exhale, exhausted, your body heavy as myunggi frowns, his worry mirroring yours.
namgyu, unfazed, moves on with his nonchalance chilling, his drugged-out energy is a contrast to your dread.
unbeknownst to you in another room, junhee is giving birth with geum-ja at her side, her voice calm and maternal as she guides junhee through the pain, coaxing her to breathe, to push.
hyun-ju stands guard at the door, her military fighting skills ready.
you keep searching for them, anxiety in your bones as you're desperate to find your sister, to know she’s safe. turning a corner with namgyu, you spot two bodies, motionless, sprawled on the floor.
namgyu gushes, his voice slurred, wanting to “play" with them but he cannot since they're dead.
however, you notice one of those two 'dead' bodies.
the one laying down, unlike the one limp against the wall, is player 100, the manipulative o voter who tormented gi-hun... breathing faintly, playing dead, his chest rising almost imperceptibly.
“namgyu, move,” you say, your voice cold, authoritative.
“whyyyy, i just wanna play with them,” he whines, his voice childish, his eyes glassy.
you push namgyu aside, your movements sharp, and kneel behind player 100 who is breathing. you can see his pulse in his neck move.
in one swift, deliberate motion, you drive your knife into his jugular, the blade sinking deep, blood spraying in a hot arc across your face and jacket.
100's eyes snap open, a gurgle escaping as he clutches at his throat, confirming he was alive before you stabbed him.
“player 100, eliminated. player 221, pass,”
the speaker announces, its voice cutting through the maze’s silence.
namgyu squeals, thrilled with his excitement grotesque since you noticed the fake dead body. this is while myunggi stares, shocked, not realizing player 100 was still alive.
“burn in hell, o voter,” you mutter, yanking the knife out, blood splattering your hands, your chest heaving.
you’ve passed, the weight of the kill quickly surpassed in your mind.
after standing up you run, your legs unsteady with myunggi chasing you. namgyu doesn't bother running., since he only lingers behind while lost in his drugged haze.
turning a corner a baby’s cry stops you cold, echoing from a room ahead.
you see hyun-ju, her back to you, guarding an open door.
myunggi surges forward, raising his knife but you grab his wrist, yanking him back.
“are you fucking stupid?” you hiss.
at your voice, hyunju turns, her eyes meeting yours, then narrowing at myunggi, unaware he’s the father of junhee’s baby, her posture defensive.
your eyes glisten, tears threatening as you stare at hyunju who blocks the door.
you toss your knife to hyun-ju, since you’ve passed and you don’t need the knife anymore.
myunggi peers inside, his breath catching as he sees his newborn daughter, tiny and squirming in junhee’s arms.
you run in the room and kneel beside junhee, who’s slumped against the wall, her face pale, sweat-soaked, exhausted from childbirth.
“junhee, you did it!” you cry, your hands cupping her forehead, tears streaming down your face as you look at your niece, her tiny face scrunched, her cries soft.
“she’s so beautiful.”
junhee sobs, nodding, her voice barely a whisper.
“she is.”
you glance at geum-ja, her face full with exhaustion, her hands still stained with blood from helping junhee.
“how’d she do?” you ask, your voice trembling.
“good, mama did good,” geum-ja says, her voice warm, maternal, a faint smile breaking through her fatigue.
you look up at hyun-ju, still guarding the door since myunggi left and distracted namgyu from this hallway.
looking down, you noticed hyunju's leg bleeding from a deep gash you hadn’t noticed until now.
“hyun-ju, are you okay?” you ask, kneeling to inspect the wound, your hands hovering, afraid to touch her.
“it’s fine, i’ve had worse,” she says, her smile soft, trying to lighten the mood despite the pain etched in her eyes.
“i found the exit.”
relief floods you, a wave of warmth in the cold maze.
“i’ll help get junhee and my niece there. geum-ja, can you help hyun-ju?”
geum-ja nods and you guide them toward the exit across the hallway. hyun-ju is limping from a past fight but steady, her strength present.
using three keys hyun-ju found, you unlock the exit, the door creaking open to a dimly lit corridor, a promise of safety.
you smile at junhee, then at the baby, her tiny hand curling around your finger.
“my little love bug,” you murmur, a tear falling as you touch her soft cheek, overwhelmed by her existence, by junhee’s resilience.
junhee looks pained, childbirth’s toll evident in her hollow eyes, her trembling hands, and you make a mental note to care for her back in the dorms, to be her strength as she’s always been yours.
however, in the exit room you nearly leave as your blue vested group goes through the exit... however you flinch at the red player coming through the door, yong-sik.
the man's broken glasses glint under the starry walls, his knife raised, his eyes locked on junhee with a desperate intensity.
hyun-ju steps in front of her, shielding her and the baby, her own knife ready despite her injury.
you snatch the knife from hyun-ju’s hand, pointing it at yong-sik, your heart pounding.
geum-ja rushes to her son, her voice breaking.
“no! yong-sik, you cannot do this!”
“move,” he says, his voice hollow, his gaze darkened through his cracked lenses.
“don’t do it,” you warn, stepping closer to geum-ja, your knife steady despite the tremor in your hands, your bruised foot throbbing with every movement.
“i couldn’t do it,” yong-sik says, his voice cracking, tears welling behind his glasses, “i couldn’t kill anyone. so i’m going to die. mom, i’m going to die.”
“then stab me!” geum-ja begs, nodding frantically, her voice full of desperation, “i’ve lived long enough. just kill me, it’s okay, right here.” she points to her abdomen, tears streaming down her face, her hands shaking as she offers herself.
yong-sik shoves her aside, lunging toward junhee, his knife flashing.
you move, clashing with him, two red players fighting... an act forbidden by the rules of the games.
he pushes you, and you stumble, pain shooting through your foot, your vision blurring. hyun-ju shoves yong-sik hard against the wall, her strength surprising even him. as she hisses, due to the stab in her leg from earlier, yong-sik rises, his desperation a mirror of your own.
when he stands up, with nothing blocking his way from junhee and the baby, you scramble to your feet.
you let adrenaline drown out the pain and charge at him, stabbing your knife into his back, just shy of his spine.
the blade sinks deep, blood welling around it. the sound is disgusting, cutting flesh.
yong-sik staggers, turning to face you, his eyes wide with shock and pain, the knife still lodged in him.
"i'm..." you almost apologized, but you stopped. you weren't that sorry for protecting your sister. not anymore.
geum-ja gasps, her hands covering her mouth, knowing what’s coming. you rush to junhee, ensuring she and the baby are safe with hyun-ju beside you, exhausted but vigilant, her leg still bleeding.
the timer goes off, signaling the end of the game.
only a few seconds go by, when a guard appears at the door, his gun raised with the barrel on yong-sik, who failed to kill as a red player.
“please spare my son!” geum-ja begs, breaking.
unfortunately, you cover the baby's ears as rapid gunfire cuts through the air.
yong-sik is dead, while the rest of you survived the fourth game.
sugurugetos
gummygunk
areudirty
yousharknotpass
tangentwithtanner
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
snowghoul
andulkaphoto
