Hi pretty girl, I've seen your writing and I love it. Could you please do a story where the reader is pregnant and gives birth during the maze game (technically it takes the place of 222) and she goes to the tug of war but can't jump because she broke her ankle LOL so Gihun takes the reader's baby and at the end the reader tells Gihun to take good care of his daughter and decides to jump into the void so Gihun doesn't come back for her. I would love to read that. I trust you! Take your time and thanks baby. Technically, this is what happened in the series, haha. Would this be something like reader x dish Gihun? Gihun is like her father figure (between reader and baby)
Hi angel 🫶 Thank you for trusting me with such a devastatingly beautiful prompt. I'll treat it with the care and heartbreak it deserves. 💔
Technically since the reader is taking Jun-hee's place, they'll also take Jun-hee's number. Every element is similar except it's now you, and your daughter. Lovely.
Content Warnings: Pregnancy & childbirth during a game, Death/sacrifice, Emotional trauma, Found family with Gi-hun as a father figure, Canon-level violence and despair, Reader-character dialogue, But also: warmth. love. tenderness. even in death.
The air is cold. Not just from the metal walls or the sterile floors of the Game, but from something deeper, something curling in your spine. Pain.
Your breath catches and then rips out of you in a scream. It’s not fear, not from the countdown screen or the players darting into the maze. No, this scream is animal. It’s instinct.
“Fuck,” you gasp, doubling over, one hand gripping the side of the corridor. “No, no, no—”
“Hey! Hey, what—what’s going on?” It’s Geum-ja. Her voice is sharp, panicked. Hyun-ju’s beside her in an instant. Her eyes widen.
“Oh god, she’s, she’s having it now. The baby.”
Another contraction rips through you, and your knees buckle. There’s no time to think. No hospital bed. No sterile gloves. Just three desperate women in a goddamn death maze.
A few minutes later, you’re on the floor, blood pooling beneath your thighs, knees raw, sweat dripping down your face.
“Push again,” Hyun-ju breathes. “You can do this.”
You scream, louder than the sirens, louder than the game countdown. You scream like someone who knows she might not survive this.
And then, a cry. Tiny. Wet. Real.
Geum-ja laughs through tears. “She’s here. She’s really—”
Hyun-ju smiles, tears brimming in her eyes as she hold your daughter. You can't speak, looking at them through the corner of your eyes. You ankle throbbing, you body tired. You feel like you could do anything in the world, except survive for your own daughter.
Hyun ju gives you a smile through tears. She quickly wipes them and gets up, "I'm going to go find the exit." She stands up and shuts the door behind her, there is some yelling and thudding outside, but you could care less, your baby, your daughter, you held her, everything you had given up was now in your arms.
Geum-ja smiles, cooing at the baby. The time seemed to slow down, you could care less about the people outside, dying, screaming, taking their last breath.
Geum- ja carefully took her jacket off and swaddled her carefully. She was so tiny in your arms, so perfect, you were afraid you'd break her, just how you broke your heart.
The door opens, Hyun-ju is displaying a wide smile, filled with relief, "I found the exit! It's this way. We can all get ou-"
But before her heartbeat calms against your chest. Hyun ju stops mid sentence, her smile turning down, the light leaving her eyes. You twist your body in agony and look up to see Hyun-ju collapsing, blood pouring from her neck.
Standing behind her: Myung-gi.
You clutch the newborn to your chest, even as the pain tears through your ankle. You look at him in disbelief as a few, final tears leak through Hyun-ju's eyes. Geum-ja hold up her hair pin shakily. He breathes, meeting your eyes, and silently closes the door. A voice, another male's echoes, "Yo! Anyone else back there?" you hear him sigh, "No, no one. I thought I saw something." A cackle echoes outside the door as the footsteps grow distant.
Geum-ja exhales shakily, her hands stroking Hyun-ju's face silently, she glides them over her eyes, closing them. "Player 120, eliminated."
Geum-ja helps you stand up, you wince in pain, clutching your baby tightly. She guides you to the door, stepping over Hyun-ju's body.
You stop at the big door with the words exit looming over it.
Geum-ja's hand shook as she took out the keys, one circle, one triangle, one square. And put them into their keyholes one by one. The time ticked. "Ma" it was Geum-ja's son, Yong-sik. His eyes were wild, blown out. He held up his knife.
The maze should’ve ended. Hyun-ju should’ve walked through that door. But instead… her blood still pools at your feet. And now, Geum-ja’s own son stands between you and freedom.
“Ma,” Yong-sik whispers, wild-eyed, knife trembling in his hand. “I haven’t killed anyone yet. They’re gonna kill me. I—I have to.”
His eyes flick to the baby in your arms. “Just—just one.”
“No…” Geum-ja’s voice breaks. “Please. Yong-sik, no.”
She puts herself between him and you, her arms spread. “Kill me instead. If you need blood, take mine.”
“I—I can’t—” he gasps. “You’re my mom.” “But she’s someone’s mom now too.”
You back away, clutching the baby tighter. Your ankle nearly gives. The door looms behind you. EXIT, but not without blood. Never without blood. Yong-sik pushes Geum-ja aside.
“Get away,” he growls, eyes glassy. He raises the knife. You scream. Metal glints. Blood sprays.
Geum-ja’s hairpin juts from his side, right where his ribs curve into his heart. “Ma…” he gasps.
The guards descend. Shots ring out. Yong-sik falls.
And Geum-ja howls. Not like a contestant. Not like a mother. Like something ancient and raw and broken.
The dorms are quieter than they’ve ever been. Maybe the others are too afraid to speak. Or maybe they know something has died in you that will never come back.
Geum-ja leads you to your cot, one arm supporting your broken ankle, the other cradling your daughter like she’s hers. Maybe she is. Maybe she was. You lie down slowly, hissing in pain. The baby whines. She doesn’t understand hunger. She only understands want.
“I don’t know how,” you whisper, your hands trembling. “I don’t know how to be a mom.” Geum-ja just smiles. “No one does. Not at first.”
She helps guide the baby to your breast, whispering soft words, not for you, not for her, maybe for someone long gone.
The baby latches. Her tiny fists curl. You cry again, this time not in pain. But in the unbearable weight of being needed.
Later, when the baby wakes wailing, it’s Geum-ja who shushes her. Who teaches you to pat her back, how to hold her close without fear.
“I used to hum this song to him,” she says softly. You know she means Yong-sik. She hums it again anyway.
The baby is nestled beside you, sleeping. But Geum-ja’s bed is empty. Or so you think, until you look up.
And there she is. Hanging from the top pole of the bunk.
Her body sways just slightly.
You don’t scream. You don’t move. You just stare. Because grief this deep turns you to stone. Only your arms move, clutching your baby tighter to your chest.
When the guards arrive, they say nothing. They lower her gently. Wrap her in black silk. Slide her into a coffin with a pink ribbon.
Her face is peaceful. Like she finally forgave herself.
You're limping. The fractured ankle burns with every step. The baby is pressed to your chest in the cloth sling Geum-ja left behind — the last thing she ever gave.
Behind you, the dorm doors shut. Ahead, the new game awaits.
Your grip tightens. You can’t let go. Not even for a second.
But your legs falter. Your body screams.
A hand touches your shoulder.
“Let me carry her,” Gi-hun says softly. “You’ll drop her like this.”
You turn, ready to snap, to protect, to bite if you have to. But then you see his eyes.
He’s not trying to take her from you. He’s trying to keep her safe.
“I can do it,” you mutter. “You’re going to hurt her,” he replies, quiet but firm. You hesitate. Then, slowly, you hand over your daughter.
Gi-hun’s arms cradle her carefully, as if she’s made of glass and stars.
“I wanted to have her, even though I had no idea how I would raise her,” you whisper. “I know that’s stupid. But I… I just wanted someone. Even if life got hard. Even if I couldn’t keep anything else. I just wanted someone.”
He walks beside you, the baby nestled into his chest now. He doesn’t look at you. But his voice comes low:
“I have a daughter too. Her name’s Ga-yeong. I missed her birthday once ‘cause I was gambling. I’ve missed a lot of things. Too many.”
“But watching her grow up, even when I was screwing up, it was the best thing I ever had.”
You look over at him. For once, he doesn’t look like a mess. He looks like a father. A man trying.
“If I die,” you murmur, “she’s yours.”
Gi-hun looks down at the baby, eyes red but gentle.
“Then I’ll protect her like I should’ve protected Ga-yeong.”
The bridge is metal and gut instinct. One wrong step and you fall.
But you already are falling, just slower, breath by breath, heartbeat by heartbeat.
You can’t jump. Not with your ankle. Not while holding her.
“Sit down,” he tells you, firm but calm. “You’re not making this jump.”
You hesitate, trembling. “What if you don’t make it?”
He doesn’t answer that. He only holds out his hands.
You kiss your baby’s forehead, your tears soaking her cheek.
And then, you let go. Gi-hun takes her. Holds her close. Nods once, then runs.
He jumps. He slips once, twice, his body nearly tumbling with each jagged landing. Every second feels like eternity.
Players ahead of him are screaming. Pushing. Shattering tiles.
And still, somehow, Gi-hun clutches your daughter tighter and keeps going. He makes it.
He turns back, standing on the final platform. He raises your baby in the air, not like a trophy, but like a promise.
And you finally breathe. You smile through the tears. She’s safe.
She’s safe. Then it starts again, the chaos.
Player 096 loses it. Shoves people left and right. The bridge becomes a warzone. Bodies fall like dominoes.
Gi-hun tries to step forward, but 096 blocks the path.
“You go back, you die too,” he growls.
Another shove. A scream. A splash of blood.
And then, finally, Gi-hun pushes back. Hard.
Player 096 falls and disappears into the void.
The timer is counting down now. 01:34.
You look at Gi-hun. He looks at you. “I’m coming back!” he yells. “Hold on!”
But it’s too far. Too much distance. Too little time.
“Take care of her,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear.
“Take care of our daughters.” He shakes his head, desperate.
But your hands already reach behind you. You stand at the ledge.
Jumping doesn’t feel like falling. It feels like letting go.
Your body cuts through air, through screams, through silence.
The world grows weightless, slow. You think of her tiny hands. Her soft breath. Her warmth curled against your chest.
And then nothing. Just her name, and how you would never watch her grow up, on you lips, unspoken.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands,⟡ @yuriloveshee,
⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @add-this-to-that,
⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie,
⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk
⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful,
⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @queenvash, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @trashlord-007, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw,
⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy,
⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001
⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq,
✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧
⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar,
⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3,
⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee,
⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry,
⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard,
⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation,
⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito,
⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj,
⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi,
⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo,
⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz,
⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies,
✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧
⟡ @myheartiscoveredinmoss, ⟡ @moonstruckbae,
⟡ @dreamandrow, ⟡ @wuluhwuhmaster, ⟡ @miikio-o,
⟡ @myyosotiiss, ⟡ @vivi345, ⟡ @cherjnie, ⟡ @sorenijkl,
⟡ @wonwon1e, ⟡ @lynaka, ⟡ @cclm0808, ⟡ @nishimurazzz,
⟡ @prettygirlthings-world, ⟡ @kristynaaah, ⟡ @madsnowmad,
⟡ @rikimuraaaa, ⟡ @musvic, ⟡ @popii-star153, ⟡ @fwkiera,
⟡ @yenienha, ⟡ @clearartisansoul-blog1, ⟡ @taylsluvs,
⟡ @fancybonkwobblerwolf, ⟡ @cherriesarepink, ⟡ @taromilkteass,
⟡ @forevermorelasts
romaincrisis
origamiaround
kaledo-art
tangentwithtanner
vaporwave
pixelskylines
discoholicmusic
snowghoul
