Genre: Angst // Slow Burn // Romance // Lawyer AU // Mystery AU
Pairing(s): Lawyer Jungkook x Lawyer Reader
Warnings: Cursing, vivid descriptions of mental illness, panic disorders, alcoholism, drugs, and vague descriptions of violent court cases. (in the future)
You can find the prologue here :)
Summary:
Some stories begin with a crime. Yours begins with an envelope.
Everything changes when a mysterious manila envelope appears on your desk. As buried secrets begin to surface and the life you painstakingly built begins to unravel, the people closest to you are forced to confront a truth they never saw coming.
In the wake of your disappearance, only one question remains:
How do you find someone who disappeared long before they ever went missing?
⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✦ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙 ✦⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚
Kim Namjoon was one of the brightest young minds to have ever graced the halls of your university. You were sure of it. Your life at the time had consisted of Dorm parties, free alcohol, the cheapest fast food you could scrape up enough money to buy, and being up to your fucking elbows in LSAT study guides.
It was during one of those study sessions that Kim Namjoon wandered into your life, changing it forever. You had been studying for an upcoming exam in your Honors Literature class.
“Why the fuck did I take an Honors course when C’s get degrees?” You grumbled to yourself.
You had assumed no one would hear you, all of the students around you were immersed in their own studies with headphones on. The sound of a quiet giggle broke your concentration, turning to the source you were met with the broad shoulders of a clumsy nerd.
“SHH” you whisper yelled, placing your finger in front of your lips akin to an old librarian.
The man’s dimples popped out in full force as he tried to silence himself, his eyes squinted shut as he attempted to quell his laughter. This, in turn, only caused him to laugh harder and it wasn’t long before you were joining in and the real librarian shooed both of you away. Her anger was justified as her words fell upon deaf ears when she chased you both out. Your laughter did not subside until you were both outside and able to take deep breaths of the fresh air.
“Y-y/n,” you managed between gasps; your body was hunched over as you tried to catch your breath again.
Sticking your hand straight out, the lanky boy grabbed it. His eyes bright as he watched you slowly straighten yourself out.
“N-Namjoon.” He gasped breathlessly as he cleared his throat.
He made eye contact with you, his eyes searching your face, almost as if he were gauging your reaction to his name. When you showed no reaction, his dimpled smile made a brilliant return.
When you found out Namjoon was in your college courses, both of you sat, walked and studied together. You found that with Namjoon there was never a dull moment. You even found yourself introducing him to Yoongi, your childhood friend who had inspired you to begin your path into law.
Their conversations were riveting and intellectual. Eventually, it evolved into late-night dinners and sleepovers. It was unspoken, but neither of you wanted anything more from each other than platonic intimacy. Your friendship was one built on a foundation of love and trust. There was no better friend than Kim Namjoon; you were certain of it.
If there was one thing that could have changed the course of your friendship, it was the one thing Namjoon had warned you about from the very beginning.
He'd always known that he would be in an arranged marriage. Something he had explained to you once, on a late night after you had both come back from a local bar. He’d been elbows deep in women and men throwing themselves at him. That night, you spent a better part of your downtime watching him sheepishly stutter and blush as they whispered into his ear.
Something about it irked you, as any true best friend would; you stood to cock-block him. If you weren’t getting any play, neither would he.
You pretended to drunkenly stumble up to him and loudly call him a cheater. To the curious onlooker, you seemed to be his disgruntled girlfriend; to the regular bartenders, they had seen you sulking all night as they passed you drinks paid for by his suitors, laughing as they watched you get wasted and annoyed as he got all the attention.
He carried you as you stumbled away with him outside. With the crisp night air hitting your skin, you could feel the drinks catching up with you. He thanked you, and you reluctantly accepted it, grumbling. You made an offhanded remark about how unaware he was of his beauty.
Namjoon was quiet for a moment, neither of you making any sound. The autumn leaves tumbled across the ground, filling the uncomfortable air between you both. Just when you couldn't stand the silence any longer, he opened his mouth. It was one of the first times he had ever voluntarily told you anything about himself.
That night, he drunkenly confessed to you that he never dated because he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. He was bound to his father’s word, and for the sake of his family, he would treat whoever his father chose as the precious person he'd waited for his entire life.
Although you couldn’t relate to sacrificing your life for your family, that was the night you realized Namjoon’s kindness wasn’t unintentional. It was a deliberate choice he made over and over again, even when it cost him something.
So when he invited you for dinner at your favorite spot a year later, you instinctively knew the moment had finally come.
He’d taken a sip of his beer before speaking, gearing himself up for his big news.
“Her name is Haemin Choi” He said, lifting his eyes to gauge your reaction.
Your face remained blank as you stared at the sizzling meat before you. The small pieces of pork belly holding your attention more than the conversation. He snapped his fingers in your face.
“Hello, Earth to Y/N!” You swiped his fingers away from your face.
“I heard you Joon, you contractually trapped a poor, beautiful woman to wash your crusty socks and undies forever. Congrats.” You said, unimpressed.
Namjoon’s lips thinned into a straight line, his dimples on full display as he shook his head in annoyance.
“I’m being serious Y/N. This is no different from any other task my family has given me. So I’m going to put my all into my love life as well.”
He looked up at you, eyes pleading for understanding, hoping you understood what he was trying to convey. As always, you smiled softly and squeezed his hand. No words were said, but his shoulders relaxed.
He couldn’t bring himself to resent Haemin. They were both victims of their parents' greed.
As his attention shifted, your friendship changed, but the care remained. You expected to see a love filled with obligation, something you had grown accustomed to by watching your own parents and their way of expressing love towards you and each other.
Instead, you saw something that completely changed your warped perceptions.
You saw Namjoon choose her every day until that choice became love. Haemin loved him just as fiercely, and somewhere in the middle of that transformation, she became your friend too.
She was just as quiet and hollow as Namjoon had been when you first met him. Haemin had never even ordered her own food before. The first time the three of you went out together, she'd whispered her order to Namjoon instead of the waiter.
You'd chuckled just loud enough to make her look your way. She glanced at you nervously, wringing her fingers in shame, cheeks tinged a slight pink color.
“Haemin” You said softly, catching her attention as you slid the menu back into her hands.
"Again," you'd said.
She frowned, looking up between you and Namjoon confused. You tilted your head to the man waiting patiently with a small notebook in hand.
"To him this time."
It took three tries before she managed it without looking at Namjoon for help. The grin she'd worn afterward was blinding. What had started as an arrangement slowly turned into a small, loud circle of people who genuinely enjoyed one another’s company. And while love for you never felt urgent, you had become content living vicariously through them as their supporting cast.
Then the seasons changed, graduation crept closer, and in your final year of college, you finally learned who Kim Namjoon really was.
It was on a rare night when you had called him to come over. Other than passing each other between classes and exchanging shitty memes, he hadn't really seen you in weeks.
You were dressed in the same shirt and sweats he’d seen you in at the beginning of the week; your hair was greasy and in disarray, and your glasses were barely concealing the bags under your eyes. Papers, takeout containers, and empty energy drinks crowded the floor around the couch, which had all but disappeared beneath a nest of blankets and pillows.
He looked over at your tear-stained face.
“Joon, I-I..”
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He'd never seen you like this. Usually, it was you pulling him from his textbooks, helping him clean his apartment, and bringing over home cooked food when you suspected he hadn't eaten properly in days.
“Y/N?” He said softly, stepping into the apartment, closing the door behind him.
Without another word, you broke down. Finals, the bitter sting of rejection letters, and months of bottled up fear spilled out of you all at once. Namjoon crossed the room immediately, wrapping his arms around you before you could apologize for crying.
You both stayed that way for a few minutes, taking in the moment. It wasn’t until you buried your face into his shoulder in shame that he finally let go. He stepped back first, quickly wiping away the tears gathered at the corners of his own eyes.
“Sorry, man. So much shit has been going on.”
“I can see that.” He said with a bright dimpled smile as he swiped his foot across the floor. The cans clinked along.
You gave a thin lipped smile as you made your way to your kitchen, getting two drinks for you both. Tossing one to him, he caught it and moved the blankets aside, sitting down, he tilted his head and spoke gently.
“This isn’t like you y/n, what's going on?”
Your face fell, tears welling up again.
“Take your time,” He said softly.
You bit your trembling lip and with a shaky voice, you spilled your guts to him. Something you rarely did, but years of pent up frustrations and sadness flooded the room. Insecurities over the future beyond college, what would become of you both after graduation, how your internship applications were being rejected despite your accolades, and how your evil professor kept dumping more work onto you knowing you were in the middle of preparing for your thesis.
Namjoon listened without interrupting, nodding along even when your words dissolved into tears. As he sat there, he realized that somewhere between late-night study sessions and cheap dinners, you'd become the one place in his life that asked nothing of him. You'd never pried into his vague answers or questioned the family waiting for him beyond campus.
To you, he had always been just Namjoon, a fellow law student, an idiot who lost his keys twice a week, and your best friend. You’d become a precious constant in his life, a safe place, someone who reminded him that he was a person outside of the role his family pushed on him.
Namjoon watched you for a long moment, his eyes soft as he quietly decided to let go of the secret he'd spent years keeping.
“Y/n” You looked up, eyes bleary behind your glasses.
“Yeah?”
"I-I think it's time I told you who my family really is."
He hesitated for a moment, as if debating his next words.
Genre: Angst // Slow Burn // Romance // Lawyer AU // Mystery AU
Pairing(s): Lawyer Jungkook x Lawyer Reader
Word Count: ???
Warnings: Cursing, vivid descriptions of mental illness, panic disorders, alcoholism, drugs, and vague descriptions of violent court cases. (in the future)
Summary:
Some stories begin with a crime. Yours begins with an envelope.
Five years ago, you walked through the doors of Kim & Associates with nothing but ambition, a law degree, and a recommendation from your best friend, Kim Namjoon.
What followed were years of friendships, impossible cases, all-nighters, and quiet moments that slowly shaped you into one of the country's most successful attorneys.
But memories have a way of hiding what matters most.
Everything changes when a mysterious manila envelope appears on your desk. As buried secrets begin to surface and the life you painstakingly built begins to unravel, the people closest to you are forced to confront a truth they never saw coming.
In the wake of your disappearance, only one question remains:
How do you find someone who disappeared long before they ever went missing?
A/N: Dude, I wrote this fic YEARS ago, like 2018/19 ish, and it was actually for one of my friends @pbandjk. I know it's been years, and you probs don't remember, but I never forgot and always found myself coming back to it. Around the time I was planning to write this, my life was literally in shambles, and I couldn't find it in myself to finish. I recently picked it back up yet again, and I think it's time it saw the light of day. Hopefully you like it, friend, and sorry it took me so long. c:
⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✦ Prologue ✦⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚
It started with a manila envelope.
You eyed it warily as you stepped into your office. The case you had just wrapped had consumed the better part of six months, and all you wanted now was to disappear for a long weekend with your phone turned off. Whatever was waiting on your desk could wait until Monday.
At least, that had been the plan; the envelope sat perfectly centered atop your keyboard. There was no note or case number on it. No discernible handwriting, just a small white label with your name in bold black letters on the top left corner.
You frowned because that alone was unusual.
Cases were never dropped on your desk without Namjoon or Jin saying something first. One of them always called, or at the very least sent a text telling you to brace yourself for whatever nightmare had landed in your lap next.
This… felt different. Your instincts were on high alert as you stared at it.
You slipped off your blazer and draped it over the back of your chair before sinking into your seat. Your fingers hovered over the envelope, hesitating.
"Probably another fire to put out," you muttered softly, trying to ease the anxiety that had welled up inside of you.
Sighing softly, you realized that your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Picking it up, you noted that the papers inside felt unusually thick. They were heavy, far heavier than any client file you’d touched before.
Holding it with both hands, your eyebrows knit in confusion as whatever was inside shifted. Your stomach tightened as you loosened the clasp, trying not to think too deeply. You heard the small rip before you saw it, the bottom of the envelope giving way as it split in your hands.
Photographs spilled across your desk. Hundreds of documents falling from your hands before you could even process what they were. Receipts, printed emails, bank statements, and newspaper clippings dating back years. Dozens of photos cascaded into your lap before fluttering to the floor.
Silence engulfed the room as you stared, unable to tear your eyes away.
You swallowed back the lump in your throat, releasing a shaky breath. You reached your hand forward, your shaky palm sliding the top-most photograph away.
No....
No.
Your breathing faltered as you sifted through the evidence, and the next photograph only made it worse, as did the one after that. You eyed each piece with shaky pupils, tears welling up behind your glazed eyes. Each one revealed a story that your mind refused to accept, and in the midst of the tense silence, your pulse thundered in your ears.
"No..." You croaked softly, your voice almost nonexistent.
You lurched to your feet so quickly that the chair rolled backward, directly into the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, which shook from the force.
The photos slipped from your lap and landed face-up beside your shoe.
“Ah!” You looked, though you knew you shouldn’t have.
Your stomach churned violently as you stumbled backward, your foot landing on a small stack of photos that had scattered across the floor. For a split second, your footing was lost, sliding backwards, your head and shoulders hit the rolling chair, and you crashed onto your butt.
“Fuck!” You were dazed, bile rising in your throat as you tried to regain your senses. You lunged forward, crawling on your hands and knees among the evidence. You had only seconds to reach for the wastebasket before vomit came up in violent waves.
You heaved again, and again. Until all that remained was burning acid that clung to your throat and tongue. Tears blurred your vision, and the dribbles of saliva clung to your chin. Your chest tightened so violently you clawed at the neck of your blouse, desperate for air that refused to come.
The feeling of despair that had taken over lasted only for a moment before it turned into an inexplicable, all-consuming rage. You looked up from the trash can, gripping a handful of photos as you crumbled them up in one hand and wiped your face with the other.
You screamed the only words that could come to your lips.
"KIM SEOKJIN, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"
From just beyond the shadows, a figure stood, their reflection faintly mirrored in the polished glass windows. They lingered for a moment before turning toward the elevator. Their phone was already pressed to their ear as the soft chime of the elevator was drowned out by the woman’s shout of disgust and rage.
“She opened it.” There was a silence on the other end of the line before the voice answered.
“Good.” Then the line went dead
Putting the phone away, they pulled the cleaning cart that had been waiting in the elevator into their hands. The elevator opened, and the cart was wheeled into the empty hallway. By the time the night security guard offered a passing nod, the stranger was already gone.
Summary: War leaves nothing but destruction behind. Only the elite are able to withstand the cruelties. After losing both her parents to the war, Ivara Aldris is forced to fend for herself and her new makeshift family no matter the risk.
Prince Jeon Jungkook is apart of the royal family of Windfell that is the reason for all of Ivara’s problems. She wants nothing to do with him and his wicked family, but soon she has no choice.
Part 2/ a lot
Find Part 1 here
A/N: Hello? Anyone there?
When Sam found me, I’d been burrowed up in the woods for almost two days. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything. Fire filled the sky around me, and I prayed it stayed far enough away. I woke at night, imagining the forest around me filled with fire, burning me.
What I initially thought were sleeves appeared to be strips of cloths covering his arms and hands. He must have had some kind of injury. “Are you by yourself?” His voice was soft, as if he could sense my apprehension towards him. I didn’t respond, ready to run if I sensed he was a threat. He was a few years younger than my parents, but much older than me. I wasn’t sure who to trust.
“We have food. If you’re hungry.” He knew I was. “My wife and daughter heard something and I walked over here to check it out.”
Silently, I stood, still eying him with weariness.
He turned and pointed to the distance. “See that flicker over there? That’s our fire. My wife must have started it. We don’t light the fire until right when we need to cook.”
Maybe it wasn’t wise for me to follow a stranger further into the woods, but I figured I was about to die from hunger, forest fire, or by enemies. It seemed like my best bet at survival.
Sure enough, we found a woman and a small child sitting beside a fire. “This is Mary,” he pointed to the woman, “and Ingrid,” at the child. “Taehyung should be back soon.”
“I just heard him,” said Mary, looking behind her.
A boy approached from the edge of the woods, putting me on high alert. Sam didn’t bat an eye, so I assumed it was someone he knew. It was then that I realized what he had in both hands. The cages were made out of sticks and inside are two brown balls of fuzz.
Rabbits.
I felt sick when I realized what we were going to be eating. I recalled the sweet animals fluttering around my house growing up, and my mother trying to ward them off her strawberries she grew.
“Who’s this?” His voice was gruff for a young boy.
I couldn’t help but notice how handsome the boy was. I was a fourteen year old girl after all who had only begun to experience her new life. I still thought about things like that.
“Taehyung, this is Ivara.”
The boy barely glanced at me. I was disappointed. He was too old to be their son, but I wonder who he was to them.
“They’re still in the town, but there’s been no reports of them trying to move out into the countryside. We should be okay.”
I knew he was talking about the Brecken. They’d taken over our town. Ransacked our businesses and homes. I had heard Mama and Papa talk of it. They tried to talk of it only after I’d gone to bed, but I would sneak around to listen.
“Maybe we could go ask someone for shelter,” I suggested. Surely we weren’t planning on staying out here. We couldn’t all survive off of two rabbits a night.
“We tried. Nobody wants extra mouths to feed,” Taehyung answered, bitterness clear in his tone.
“People don’t know who to trust right now,” Sam attempted to reason.
All night, the boy seemed cold and distant, but when it was time to eat, he offered me the much bigger piece of meat and took the smaller one for himself. That was when I decided to trust him.
Mary was swollen with child, hobbling like she could give birth any minute. She still fussed over her husband all the same. I watched her remove the cloth on his damaged arms and replace it with a new one of the same color. It looks to me like it might have been someone’s overcoat once. I wondered what happened to him. Mary noticed my curious glances and said, “Our bakery was targeted a few days ago. We were inside when they set it on fire. Sam wrapped himself around us to help get us each out.”
My eyes flickered to the child who looked to be a couple years old. Her red hair was as bright as her fathers, despite her mothers dark locks. I knew my father also would have done the same for me and my mother. He would have died in the fire if it meant saving us. Tears came to my eyes at the thought of them. I’d never see them again.
She gathered the rags that she removed. “I’ll have to take it to the creek to wash them. I’m sure you’re thirsty too. We’ve been boiling water from the creek.” She glanced at me before stilling.
“I’ll go do it. You stay here,” Taehyung offered. He didn’t leave room for protest as he collected the rags from Mary and headed to where I assumed the creek was.
“Oh honey,” Mary cooed, sitting beside me. I hadn’t noticed I was crying until she wiped my tears away. That brought out a full sob in me. She wrapped me in her arms, holding me against her swollen stomach. I imagined that it was my mother’s arms around me, holding me, and that my father is still alive. It only worked to break my heart more.
When Taehyung returned I felt the need to stop crying. He didn't seem like the type to cry over anything.
I couldn’t say that I was full or that I didn't want to keep drinking when we passed the water around earlier, but I was in much better shape than I was before. I had some water and some food in me.
Falling asleep in the woods was still scary, but I felt a little safer with these people around me this time. I slept through the night for the first time.
~
The sun is just starting to creep out, the fog limiting the visibility to only a few feet in front of me on the castle grounds. There’s maybe a hundred men gathered. Some in casual clothes, some without shirts. They goof off with each other, laughing and rough housing.
It’s not at all how I imagined royal guards in training to act. I’m used to seeing them stiff with straight faces and backs. I guess that gets drilled into you later.
The same boy from yesterday was the one to wake me up this morning, dragging me out into the cold morning air. Training. I’m being trained. For the royal guard. The idea is laughable, but I keep my chuckle inside my head.
I”m toward the back, so I don’t gain too much attention, but I still receive looks. And stares. And whispers. And not so quiet words about me hanging around them.
A few men look like they want to approach me, but stop when they glance at Namjoon who remains beside me, on the Prince's orders, I surmise. Maybe they assume I’m his girlfriend rooting him on. A woman as a guard is just too hard to believe.
A man at the front of the crowd whistles loud enough that every man stills and it immediately quietens down. “One lap around the perimeter. Slowest ones are on bathroom duty.” I recognized the Prince’s voice. I step around someone to confirm it’s him. Oh it’s him alright. Did none of these men own shirts?!
“What is the Prince doing here?” I ask Namjoon.
“You didn’t know? He is the commander.”
No, I didn’t know. I stupidly assumed it was still his father. Of course it was him. His father would have never let me in his ranks.
It doesn’t take long for everyone to pass me and leave me tailing behind. I thought I was in shape from walking all over the Kingdom on the hunt, and running away when I get caught. This is proving me wrong. Running short distances quickly I’m good at. But jogging long distances? I’m not sure I have the endurance.
After a while, I can tell Namjoon wants to run on, but for some reason he’s trailing behind with me. Whether that is to keep me safe, or to keep others safe from me, I’m not sure.
Scared of being too behind, I run as fast as my body can take it. Even then, I’m dead last. A few minutes later, my vision starts to black out, but I keep running. I can’t give up. No one here will ever take me seriously. I’ll be an easy target. Eventually, my feet catch up to me and I’m being flung to the ground by my own dead weight.
Namjoon yells my name, and that is the last thing I register.
~
“She hasn’t eaten in days from what I can tell. She’s dehydrated and malnourished. Definitely not in any shape to be exercising.” A woman’s loud voice wakes me from my slumber. I feel as though I’ve woken from the dead.
When my vision comes to, I can just make out the Prince’s figure standing, staring daggers at me. Why was he pissed at me?! I’m the one who’s hurt. “You’ve been starving yourself?” It was more of an accusation than a question.
“Huh?” I rub the sleep out of my eye, thinking maybe this is all a hallucination and the Prince will disappear when I do.
“Namjoon should have offered you food from the canteen. Why have you not been eating?”
I didn’t think about eating last night, I wasn’t hungry, and I have no time this morning. I was drug straight to training. “I don’t want to be here,” I answer plainly.
“She’s been starving long before today,” the woman speaks again. A nurse. I’m in the nurse’s station. “She’s skin and bones. When was the last time you ate a proper meal?”
For the first time, he shows concern, and his forehead slightly frowns.
Years. It’s been years since I ate a proper meal. “The day before yesterday.”
“How much? A scrap?”
We ration our food, because we have to, that’s what I want to say, but for some reason I’m embarrassed. I should use this moment to show the Prince how his people live. I recognize that look on the Prince’s face. Pity. And it doesn’t taste as good as I imagined it.
His eyes meet mine again, and they're once again stern. For some reason it brings me relief. “Don’t let her out again until she is well.” With that, he exits.
I feel like I can breathe a little easier without him in the same room.
The nurse stirs something in a pot over the fire before ladling it out into a cup and handing it over to me. “Drink this bone broth. It’s full of nutrients.”
The murky liquid looks unappetizing, but tastes savory with spices I haven’t tasted in years. It takes all of me not to down it in one go. If I learned one thing from successful loots over the years, it’s that when you’re not used to consuming so much, it’s wise to take it slow.
I was devastated the time I threw up all the chocolate I had found. It was two years before I found some again.
The nurse comes in and out of my room the rest of the day to check on me and to stuff me with food and drink. I’ve had bread with a melted cheese and meat mixture that was delightful, different teas, and small snacks she tries to force me to eat. So this is how royalty eat.
I have the urge to finish everything so I don’t waste it, but I grow too full and don’t want to make myself sick. I wonder how many people they could feed with their leftovers.
I think about my camp and how they would gorge themselves on this food if they had access. I wish I could sneak it back home somehow.
I’ve gone days without eating before, but I always made sure they had something, even if I did without. I would lie to them and tell them I had taken something for myself while I was gone.
I wonder what they think happened to me. Taehyung probably is out looking for me, which puts him at risk of being caught. The thought sends pure panic into my veins. Surely the Prince set out a patrol to look for more of me. He’s not stupid enough to think I was living alone.
The sooner I get back, the better. I might not be able to do much without a bow, but I'll go down fighting for the people I care about.
I get up to test the door and find it unlocked. I could easily escape, there’s no guards in sight. But, I tell myself to wait until night when there’s less visibility.
After the nurse feeds me my last meal, I get out of the bed, preparing myself. Peering out of my door, I pause for a few moments before determining the coast is clear. I make my footsteps light and keep my eyes peeled for movement.
The castle seems to have settled down for the night, and I don’t hear many signs of life. The side door down the hall from my room is the one I chose for escape. I manage to make it there without running into anyone. The night air cuts into my skin, making me start to shiver.
A guard is stationed nearby, his back facing the castle. Would he stop me if I tried to leave? They normally focus on keeping people out, not in, right? I’m still in the clothes from this morning, which hopefully makes me look less suspicious than my usual garb. I bow to him as if to show I’m not sneaking around. “Just going for a stroll.” I gesture lamely and the guard does not so much as blink back. Right. I’m going to assume it’s safe to continue.
Which direction was the camp? I remember running east from my home, but I could have zigzagged, sending me more north or west… My knowledge of things only extends from what I knew at fourteen and northeast of the camp. The space between the castle and the camp is unknown to me. I was always afraid to venture there.
I decide it’s best to head towards the town and figure it out from there. Maybe I could ask around.
In the woods, the only sounds are the bugs chirping and the occasional hoot of an owl. It’s strange to hear wildlife again after being in silence for a day. I’m grateful for its help to cover my sounds. Once I reach the perimeter of the grounds, I should run into guards. What will I say to them? Will I be able to talk my way out of here?
A tall wall appears in the distance. Fuck, how am I supposed to get around that? I wish I had thought this through more, but I was too desperate to escape this place.
I’ve been entirely alone on my walk here, so when I think I hear something behind me I freeze. When I glance around, I’m met with darkness. Then, it’s unmistakable, the sound of hooves on the leaves. It’s most likely a guard patrolling.
My first instinct is to hide. The only place I have to go is up. I’m not a particularly strong person, but the adrenaline kicks in enough to help pull myself up a couple limbs.
Through the branches, I make out the figure of a horse and rider getting closer. I hold my breath, hoping they’ll pass under me none the wiser. It’s dark, they can’t see me, I tell myself.
The rider and horse ride below me, and I’m about to relax when they stop directly below instead of going on. The rider gazes up, and I recognize the Prince’s face. “Running away on the first day?”
I still myself, holding my breath, as if I can make myself disappear.
“Do you want to come down, or do I have to come up there? I’ll admit it’s been a while since I climbed a tree..”
My hands clutch onto my legs, holding myself. “You can’t keep me here.” I declare.
“You committed a crime, I’d say I can punish you how I see fit.” The panic finally sets in. This is my fate. I’m trapped as a guard, forever serving against my will. The prince observes my trembling form. “And I’d like to think the punishment I chose wasn't very harsh, which leaves me perplexed as to why are you so eager to go back in the woods and starve? Do you hate me that much?”
The ignorance of it all is what angers me the most. “You used your people as a weapon for war and discarded them when you were done. Need I go on?”
He scoffs, still conversing with me through the tree limbs. “I was a child during the war, same as you. Whatever happened was out of my control.”
I guess that’s true. It’s not him per say that is to blame, but it’s still his family. He still profits from the mistreatment and doesn’t lift a finger to fix it.
“You think life here is worse than where you were?”
I squeeze my eyes tight, trying my best to sound sincere when I plead. I know it’s a longshot, but it’s all I’ve got. “They depend on me. I can’t leave them.”
“How many people rely on just you? None of the rest of them are capable of anything?”
It’s not that they’re incapable, it’s that they’re not willing to do what I did. They were willing to excuse it when it was me committing the crimes, but if it came down to starving or stealing, I fear they’ll choose the latter.
“These people who are relying on you, do they also steal?”
I sneer at him. “They’re innocent people. Their families are broken, their houses were left to ash, and they have nothing.”
“Why can’t they get jobs?”
Fire flashes behind my eyes and ignites inside me. “There’s no one who can afford to hire others. A man’s bakery was burnt down in the raid. Even if there were job options, his hands are damaged from trying to save his family from their burning house. How is he supposed to make a living to support his family when he can hardly dress himself?”
I can’t see him, so I’m not sure what he’s thinking as the silence sets in. “I was unaware there is a job crisis. I will look into it.”
I don’t buy his bullshit. How could he not know when people get sent home on the daily for trying to talk to him? How could he be so oblivious to the struggles of his own people? What kind of ruler is that?
“Please leave them alone. If anything happens to them, I will-” my words cut off in a choke.
“I’ll leave them alone if you obey orders.”
I’m not sure if he can be trusted, but could I do much more if I ran off to them and he found me? At least now I have a chance. I’m not sure if there’s even a chance to save them by myself. Reluctantly, I climb down from the tree.
I want to wipe the smug look off the Prince’s face. “Now. Do I need to see you off to your room?”
I cross my arms, stalking off from him and towards the castle and I hear the horse gallop behind me.
~
That night, I dream of Taehyung and the others. When I wake in the middle of the night reality sinks in like a heavy weight.
~
A knock on my door is what wakes me the next morning. For a second, I forget where I am, disoriented to not see the walls of mine and Taehyung's tent.
More knocks come that make me drag myself out of bed. I open the door to Namjoon who grins at me bashfully. “I was told to retrieve you for breakfast.”
“I thought we don’t eat until after the run?”
“We’ve already ran.”
“What?” Panicking, my mind fills with what my punishment could be for missing it. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You’re under medical orders after what happened yesterday.”
Medical orders. I wonder how much the nurse had to convince the Prince in order to get me out of my duty that he so wants me to do.
“I’ll let you get dressed before we go.”
My head darts down to assess my appearance and I flush when I remember I just woke up. I slept only in a t-shirt last night.
The canteen is filled to the brim with people, the chatter echoing down the halls of the castle. It’s only men I see and they look familiar to me from yesterday. I guess this is the palace guards and guards in training.
Despite trying to ignore it, I feel the male gaze on me as I get in line to fill my tray with food. I’m not sure why there aren’t women guards. Have no women volunteered, or were they not allowed?
Namjoon makes small talk with me the whole time, seemingly oblivious to the attention I’m gaining. It’s a whole sea of eyes when I turn to find a seat. No table is unoccupied, and dread fills me at the thought of having to sit next to one of them.
Namjoon takes the lead so I follow behind. The guys at the table he stops at part with enough room for us two to sit. They all look about the same age as Namjoon and tease him like a brother.
I meet the eye of a guy across from me I learn is Yoongi, and he nods his head in acknowledgement. It makes me feel a little better, indifference from at least one person.
“So, why’d you get picked as the first female guard?” The one to the left of Yoongi asks.
So it really was true? I open my mouth and close it. How could I tell them I’m being punished for thieving? They’d probably lose all respect for me.
“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask the Prince.”
“You look like a breeze could knock you over, oh wait. Didn’t that happen yesterday?” some guy makes a passing comment. That earns a few chuckles around. Suddenly, my food doesn’t seem very appetizing.
“Don’t listen to them,” Namjoon nudges my arm and I try to give a small smile of appreciation that probably looks more like a grimace. I wonder if he knows the true reason why I’m here.
“All right gentlemen. Enough stuffing your face. Be at the Arena in five minutes.” the Prince calls out over the noisy canteen.
“Arena?” I question out loud.
“Yeah. It’s where we work on one on one combat. Don’t worry, Rookies have to do something else entirely,” Yoongi explains.
Worry I should have.
My Sargent stands a few feet away, hands on his hips, examining us, and he’s displeased with whatever it is he finds. Of course Namjoon had to leave me since he was no longer a rookie. I didn’t realize I missed his presence until I turned to speak to him and realized he wasn’t there.
“Soldiers, today you will be practicing the basics of the guard. Stamina,” he focuses his gaze on me too long not to be a coincidence. “And strength.”
We were to run across the field towards a line of sacks, which looked to weigh no less than 30 pounds, and run back with them five times. If I could just make it through the five times, then I can rest, I tell myself.
“Slowest time owes me 20 laps after drills.”
Never mind on the rest.
He starts calling out names to start, and I almost think I get away with it until, “Aldris!” Alright, everyone in line.”
The man to my right glances over at me before a snarl tilts his lips. I’ve already lost in their eyes. That may be true, but I’ll be damned if I don’t go without a fight.
I copy my opponents’ ready stances, placing my hands on the dirt beside my foot.
“Go!”
Dirt flies and I squeeze my eyes shut as far as I can and still manage to see. The opponents on either side of me have already grabbed their bags by the time I reach mine. They lift theirs with a huff.
I try to do the same, except mine appears to be stuck to the ground. Another giant tug sends a spasm in my back. Even with all the stubborn determination I contain, there is no way I’m lifting that. I have to think on my toes.
With another mighty tug, this time on the sides, I manage to sit the bag upright and drag. I’ve already been lapped by most when I reach the halfway mark. But at least I got it off the ground.
Far down the line from me, I notice a couple of other guys not being able to lift their bags either.
Well, I guess I won’t be the only one running laps.
I refuse to be humiliated the way the Prince wants me to feel. There is no other reason he chose me than that. Sure, I could shoot a bow and arrow, but so could all of the King's top men. I’m not special.
Without a break, we’re directed to a long stretch of land. “You see those posts?” Our Sargent points a few hundred feet away. “Yes, Sargent!” Our crew calls loudly.
I’m too distracted by measuring the distance that I don’t notice our Sargent until he is standing in front of my face. “What was that, soldier?”
I realized I had forgotten to answer him. I’m not used to being barked orders at and expected to respond.
I contemplate what punishment I might receive if I don’t respond. My stubbornness convinces me it is worth it to keep my pride. “Yes, Sargent.” I grit through my teeth.
“You think you’re going to be treated differently because you’re a girl?”
I feel his spit hit my face, and it takes everything in me to resist wiping my face and step back. Endure, I tell myself. If I can make it through a war without my family and home, I can spit out two measly words. “No, Sargent.”
“If you want to be treated like a girl so badly, I know a few ways these men can do that.” Snickers sound around me, and I will myself to control my temper. No good would come from me standing up for myself. I can’t defend myself from the repercussions that may come. I have to protect myself. “Right now, I don’t give a fuck what any of you have between your legs! Your job is to run to those polls. Slowest time gets bathroom duty.”
“Yes, Sargent.” I grit out along with my fellow trainees. Giving respect to someone who does not deserve it proves to be one of the most unnatural things for me.
We are not human beings to them. We are just tools, weapons to be sharpened to their liking. Then, we will get used to their liking.
But, I won’t let it get that far. I just need to find another way to escape. I won’t be here for much longer for them to use.
Again, my last name is called first. The men to my left and right appear to be in good shape. But, I’ve spent every day of my life running since the war came. I’ve had sleep in an actual bed and a full meal for the first time in years.
Some of them drop low in stances. Others, like me, just wait.
“Try not to pass out this time.” The guy beside me comments. I ignore him.
When the whistle sounds, I propel my body as hard as I can. There are no thoughts as I run. I pay no attention to those around me. My body feels much stronger than it did yesterday. The finish line comes much faster than I anticipated. When I turn around, out of breath, I notice some of the men are still running. Was I that fast?
“Fuck,” the man beside me who insulted me holds his side. “How did you run that fast?”
I stand as straight as I can manage, wanting not to look winded, as though that was no big deal for me. When in reality, my heart is pounding loud in my ears. “Maybe because I didn’t waste energy running my mouth.”
~
It’s sundown by the time I finish running my laps. I may not have been the only one running, but I was the last left.
If I’m going to be stuck here, I might as well use it to my advantage. I can use the food here to build up my strength, and the exercises to build up my stamina. It’s the thought of my family suffering without me that plagues my thoughts constantly to find another escape route. I will, I have to.
Staying here will also help me learn the grounds. I can find the best ways to escape.
I convince myself, if only for a few moments during the day, that Taehyung can figure it out. I know he would never let the others starve. He will do something. I just wonder what all that something would involve.
“You have to run laps rookie?” I don’t bother turning to the teasing voice coming from behind me in the canteen.
It’s impossible to keep the exhaustion from my face or posture. All I want is to go back to my room and sleep. But, I know I will regret not eating when morning comes.
I scan the room for Namjoon and find him waving his hand. He’s already made room for me to sit beside him.
“Beans potatoes, thats all we fucking get. I’ll be glad when we officially become guards so we can eat actual food,” Yoongi complains and Namjoon agrees.
Their complaint falls on deaf ears. The meal looks delicious to me. I eat with fervor, enjoying every last bite. I’m glad I came to eat.
“How did your first day go?” Namjoon asks, and Yoongi looks up at me for an answer.
“Well, I had to run laps, if that answers your question.”
“Don’t worry, Namjoon failed a lot when he first arrived too. He wasn’t very strong.”
Namjoon throws his friend an incredulous look.
“What? I said ‘was’?”
I almost find it in me to laugh.
~
I’m putting my tray away when someone calls my last name. I instantly freeze. It’s been so long since I’ve heard someone call my last name, and every time I’ve heard it today, I think of my father. It only sounds natural for a guard's voice to be calling for him.
I turn to find a large burly man behind me. He’s already in uniform, his badges indicating he is at one of the highest ranks.
“You’re Aldris's daughter.” By the grin on his face, I’m hoping that means he was a friend of my father.
“I am. Did you know him?”
“Know him?” He scuffs. “He was only one of my closest friends when we were rookies. He helped me through some of the toughest times of my training.” His accent is thick and from up north, the sound reminding me of times past. I remember that voice. “His passing was a tragedy for the whole kingdom. He was the best archer this kingdom had ever seen.”
A moment of silence befalls us in remembrance.
“He was always so proud of you and your mother. Wouldn’t shut up about ya’. How is she?” He notices the way my lit up face falls and he registers why. “Ah,” He didn’t have to say any more than that. We both understood.
It made sense he didn’t know about my mother. Both of my parents passed without knowing that the other had, which I always thought was for the best. I couldn’t imagine a world where one could live without the other.
“I’m Gadriel by the way,” he holds out his gigantic hand for me to shake. “Listen, if ya ever need a friend here, I know how it can be. It was rough for me and your father starting out, but I can't imagine being a woman here. I still can’t believe the King let ya in.” He shakes his head like it didn’t make sense to him. It doesn’t to me either. “Times are a changin I guess. I hear of other places in the world where only women serve in the army. We’re a long way from that, but maybe you’re the start of something good.”
Calling my time here good was not something I could accept. He probably thought I wanted to be here, that I was honored. Would it do any good to let them know I was being held prisoner here? Most likely, that would lessen the respect they hold for me. Right now, the only miniscule of respect I get seems to be from “the honor of serving”. If I let them know I had turned this down in favor of getting my hands chopped off, they probably do it themselves…
It was best to keep it to myself.
~
I was the first to show up for the run the next morning. Despite how exhausted I felt from the day before, I made myself get up. I even beat the Prince.
“You’re early, soldier.” The title grates my ears, and I wish so badly to correct him, but I know it would be fruitless.
“I rode into town yesterday,” I’m not sure why he’s talking to me, or where he’s going with that. “I couldn’t find any signs of a job crisis.”
I’m surprised that he even tried, but not surprised that he didn’t find anything. He appears to be quite inept when it comes to helping his people.
He continues despite my lack of response. “I wanted to find some of those people that you were speaking of. That you said would die without my help. I couldn’t find any of them.”
My hatred for him burns deeper. He truly is as despicable as I imagined. “That’s because they’re at your front door, which you would know if you bothered to open it.”
“Are you speaking of hearings?” When I don’t respond, he continues, “My father is in charge of hearings, not me.”
I shrug. That isn’t my problem to figure out.
“Do you know where these people may be living? So that I could find them.”
I don’t like his tone about something I care deeply about, and his question insinuates that he’s trying to find out where I came from, so he can do who-knows-what to them as well. “I shouldn’t have to do your job for you. Did you even try talking to the people?”
His reaction is enough to give me my answer. Of course, he didn’t bother speaking to the lowly commoners.
I’m about to call him pathetic when a voice interrupts me. “There you are. When you weren’t in your room this morning, I got worried.” Namjoon jogs up behind me. “Commander.” He bows. I noticed that his soldiers call him commander and not “your highness.”
“Let’s go to the back,” I tell him, already walking there.
Namjoon looks between Jungkook and I confused, but follows anyway.
~
“Rookies!” my sergeant yells. “If you want to move up in the ranks, you will have to prove yourselves. After you have proven your strength and stamina, you will be able to move on to combat training with weapons.”
We stand in front of posts so tall I have to crane my neck to see the top. It almost resembles a child’s swing set; instead of swings, there are five ropes.
“You will not be able to move on until you complete all sections of the test. After dragging the bags, you will be required to climb to the top of the rope and grab your flag.”
I know enough to know that after this, we will be split into different skills. Some into swords, some into the handling of explosives, and those like me, archery. I can’t wait for this training to be over, and to finally move on to archery. But, that won’t be possible if I can’t pass the strength and endurance tests first.
“If you fail to retrieve your flag, you fail the test.”
It’s such a simple task, and yet, it will defeat me. I know it.
The sergeant yells out last names, and I’m grateful not to be first this time. I watch from behind as five men stand in front of their respective ropes. Each one is built already with muscle.
After the starting call, the five men race to their ropes. All of them make it successfully up the first few feet. Then, some start to fall. To my surprise, the skinniest one on the left is the only one who doesn’t fall the entire time. The others eventually grab their flags, but not without struggle.
Clearly, now I understood the purpose for them going first. It was to show that sometimes muscles are just that: show.
“The lighter people have an advantage because they have less weight to pull.” I overhear a guy beside me say. And gods, I hope that’s true.
Eventually, I’m called up to a rope. The whistle rings before I’m ready. The man beside me jumps, already a whole body length above me. Quickly, I copy the postures I’d been studying. It seems to be mostly technique. Most of the macho guys tried to climb without their feet. By clasping my feet around the rope, I’m able to propel myself up without relying on my arm strength.
On the way down, the rope burns the flesh on my palms when I slip. I end up being third place. Not too bad.
“She cheated! She used her feet.” A man calls, and several others quickly agree with him.
“That wasn’t in the rules!” I defend myself when the Sergeant begins to march over to me.
“Sargent,” A man steps forward. The one who made fun of me yesterday. “She did not complete it fairly.”
I prepare myself to get chewed out by the sergeant. His mouth opens, but he freezes at something behind me.
“She is right. It was not listed in the rules to only use your hands.” I’m not expecting to hear that voice. Whipping around, I spot the Prince observing us a few feet away. How long had he been there?
Around me, men scramble to bow. I however, do not. If anyone notices, no one says anything.
“Of course, commander.” My sergeant calls. I hold back my snort. I’d never seen him so docile before.
“However, it should be clearly stated next time.”
“Yes, commander.”
I should have known it was too good to be true. How the fuck was I supposed to do this with just my hands?
The Prince glances at me and I hope my gaze conveys, “Thanks for nothing.”
~
“Are you fucking the Prince? Is that why they let you in?”
I ignore the voice as always, grabbing a food tray for myself. The man was standing behind me in-line, so it wasn’t like I could get away from him. At least I didn’t have to run any laps today. Though, maybe it wasn’t such a blessing, because the canteen was much more crowded at this time.
“Or did you come here to get passed around? You didn’t have to join the army for that.”
The events of the past two days have built up rage inside of me, and I’m done ignoring the comments. Consequences be damned. I whip around to the sound of the voice to bite back and find something large blocking me.
“Ya ever say something like that again to ‘er and you’ll find yourself with my sword in ya belly.”
The one who insulted me is hidden with Gadiel in front of him. I step to the side, and I have to admit, it’s quite satisfying seeing him about piss himself at the sight of Gadiel. “Yes, sir.” He scrambles away from the line, forgetting his food.
He turns back to me with a sigh. “Don’t cha let them talk to ya like that. Once they know they can get away with it, they won’t stop.”
“There’s not much I can do. They’ll just keep on anyway.”
“Use ya words. If that doesn’t work, use the ol’ kick to the groin.”
We get to the end of the line and I stand to talk to him. “Won’t I be punished for fighting another trainee?”
“Nah. The Sargents here will ‘bout let murder happen. They call it nature takin its course. It’s hard to keep young men huddled together from hurting each other.”
That wasn’t good news for me that he thought it would be. I do not put it past these men to take their insults to a physical level.
~
After our run, the Prince stands shirtless again, sweat dripping down his form, his hair soaked. It’s so hot I almost wish I could take mine off for some relief. “rookies, each platoon is permitted two days of rest every other week. You're lucky today is one of those days.” Cheers holler out, but the Prince interrupts them. “Don’t get too excited. The training areas will be open. You are encouraged to participate. Voluntary one-on-one combat will begin immediately after this meeting is over to help prepare you for the combat trials. You’re dismissed.”
“I thought one-on-combat wasn’t for rookies?” I ask Namjoon beside me.
“That’s with swords. This is with bare hands.”
Oh. Somehow swords didn’t seem that bad.
Namjoon walks beside me back to the castle. “I forgot, you’re supposed to head to the stables after breakfast.”
The stables. Am I being punished for mouthing off to him yesterday and I have to shovel horse shit? Honestly, I’d take it over one on one combat.
After eating breakfast and cleaning myself up, I’m not expecting to find the Prince inside the stables saddling a horse. Doesn’t he have stable boys to do that for him? He doesn’t even look up from his ministrations when he asks, “Did you eat?”
For a moment, I mistake his question for the common phrase of endearment. Then I realize he was merely checking because of my running incident. “Yes. And to address your accusation, no I was not starving myself. I simply forgot to eat. I’m not used to having food ready to eat three times a day.”
Finally finished saddling the horse, he glances over at me, looking me up and down. I fight the urge to show how bothered I am by it. Everything about him perturbes me. “Are you training today?”
Should I lie so I don’t have to be around him? As tempting as it is, I’m more curious about what he wants from me. “I didn’t plan on it.”
“You’re dressed in your training clothes.”
I shrug. “I don’t have any other clothes.”
“Were you taught how to ride?”
I shake my head. When I was younger, I either walked everywhere or took a carriage. There was no need to learn.
The horse is patient as he finishes buckling the saddle in place, his tail flitting every now and then. He seems docile enough, but still, the power of such animals scare me. The prince strokes his hand down the horse’s gray head. He has tan speckles and mane. “This is Ranger. He’s been trained around kids, so I thought he’d be alright for you.”
I think I should be offended, but I’m too distracted by the fact he wants me to ride a horse. Even though I have no experience riding horses, this is my best chance at running away. Is he truly that ignorant that he would let me, a known escapee, on a horse?
At first, I believed him to be stupid enough to leave his window open twice, and I went in not knowing that it was a trap. He is certainly smarter than I would like to believe.
“And why am I riding Ranger”?” I raise a hesitant hand up to stroke the horse’s nose. He doesn’t have much of a reaction, which is good to me.
“I’m going out to the village today. I want you to accompany me.”
He wants me to start my duty already? But, I’ve learned nothing. So far all I’ve done is pass out minutes into a run. “I’ve not been properly trained yet.”
A small smile plays on his lips and I wonder what that’s for. “I know. You’re not serving as my guard.”
That’s when I notice he’s dressed casually with a cape around him. When he pulls the hood up I have to really look to notice it’s the Prince.
“Why are we going then?”
“I want to speak to people. See if what you say is true. Place your left foot here, and swing around with the other.”
“Wait,” he looks annoyed at my hesitance, but he moved on too quickly for me. “Are you going to help them?”
“Maybe. I just want to assess the situation first.”
The maybe is enough for me. I do as he says, holding onto the steer for support.
Maybe after I help him I can escape. I am curious to see how this will play out. If I have a chance at possibly helping others, I will take it, even if it is with the Prince.
All of my excitement about being free on the horse is shot down when he leads my horse’s reins to his horse, tying them together. So much for running away.
i think there’s actually nothing better than being randomly told “I love you” after doing something characteristically stupid. Like what do you mean I’m a lovable person and I just did something silly and you thought “of course you would do that. I love you.”. No better feeling
Place of Birth: Where did your character first see the world? Think about the impact of this place—was it a busy city where they had to fight for attention or a quiet village where everyone knew everyone’s business? This location doesn’t just say where they’re from; it shapes how they see the world.
Family and Upbringing: What was their family like? Were their parents loving or distant? Maybe they were raised by someone other than their parents—a mentor, an older sibling, or even alone. Family (or the lack of it) is usually one of the most significant factors in shaping who someone becomes.
Society’s Expectations: What was expected of them when they were young? Possibly, they were born into wealth, with all the pressure to continue the family legacy, or maybe they were raised to be invisible in a world where survival mattered. How does this influence who they are now? Do they accept or reject those expectations?
2. Childhood Events That Left a Mark
First Taste of Conflict: Think about the first time the character realized the world wasn’t a perfect place. Maybe they witnessed violence or faced betrayal. What was that moment, and how did it stick with them? This moment usually lays the foundation for the character’s emotional landscape—fear, hope, ambition, or distrust all come from these early life lessons.
Childhood Dreams: When they were young, what did they want to be? Every child has dreams—did they want to be a knight, a scholar, or even just someone who could travel the world? Did they have to give up these dreams? How does that lost dream shape them now?
Formative Relationships: Who was their first best friend, mentor, or enemy? Childhood friendships and relationships often create deep bonds or wounds that last into adulthood. Did they have a mentor who taught them everything, only to betray them? Did they lose a childhood friend that still haunts them?
3. The Teen Years: Where They Start to Become Who They Are
Trials and Tribulations: What’s the biggest challenge they faced as they grew up? Was it losing a loved one, failing at something important, or maybe being forced into a role they didn’t want? These teenage years are where the emotional armor starts forming—how did the difficulties they faced shape them into the person they are now?
Education or Training: How did they learn what they know? Were they formally trained by an institution, learning everything by the book, or did they learn through experience, like a street-smart survivalist? What impact does their education or lack of it have on how they interact with others?
Teenage Bonds: Did they have a first love or a first major falling out with someone close to them? These experiences often create emotional scars or connections that they carry with them into adulthood. How does that past friendship or romance influence their behavior now?
4. Key Life Events: The Big Moments That Define Them
Trauma or Loss: Was there a moment that changed everything? Think about a significant loss—maybe a loved one, their home, or a sense of identity. How does this event affect their worldview? Do they build walls around themselves or dive into relationships with reckless abandon because they fear losing more?
Victory or Failure: Did they experience a moment of triumph or devastating defeat? Success and failure leave their marks. Were they celebrated as a hero once, leading them to overconfidence, or did they fail when everyone was counting on them, leading to crippling self-doubt?
Betrayal: Was there a betrayal that shaped their adult relationships? Whether it is a friend, family member, or lover, betrayal often changes how we trust others. Do they close themselves off, constantly expecting betrayal, or try to rebuild trust, afraid of being left alone again.
5. Where They Stand Now: The Present Moment
What Drives Them Today: What’s the one thing pushing them forward now? Is it revenge, the need to restore their family’s honor, or maybe even just survival? Whatever it is, this motivation should tie directly back to their experiences.
Emotional Baggage: What unresolved emotional wounds are they carrying? Everyone has scars from their past—some are visible, others not so much. How do these emotional wounds affect how they treat others, how they react to conflict, and how they move through the world.
Current Relationships: Who’s still in their life from their past, and how do they feel about it? Did they reconnect with someone they thought they’d lost, or are they haunted by unresolved issues with people from their past? Do they have any ongoing tensions or regrets tied to these people?
6. Tying Themes to Their Backstory
Cultural or Mythological Influence: How does their personal story tie into the larger world’s mythology or culture? Do they carry a family legacy, a curse, or a prophecy that hangs over them? How does this influence their interactions with others and their perception of themselves?
Recurring Symbols: Are there objects, dreams, or people that keep showing up in their life, symbolizing their journey? Perhaps a recurring nightmare haunts them, or they carry an object from their past that’s both a source of comfort and pain
7. Character Arc: The Journey from Past to Present
How Does Their Past Shape Their Growth?: Every character has emotional baggage that needs resolving. How does their backstory drive their arc? Do they need to forgive themselves, let go of the past, or accept who they’ve become to move forward?
Unanswered Questions from the Past: Are there any mysteries in their backstory they need to solve? Maybe they’re unaware of their true parentage, or maybe there’s a forgotten event from their childhood that will resurface and change everything.
no lie, the second half of this post really helped me put a different perspective on my life and greatly the decreased the anxiety i have about my life to come
A/N: I was in a bad place mentally and had to prove to myself that I could follow through and finish SOMETHING. So I'm shamelessly posting Lovesick Agent Yoongi with just a smidge of GOT7 thnx.
(Agent! Yoongi x Reader) (Ft. Agent! BamBam for a split second)
Summary: (Angst and Slight Fluff) Yoongi is given a new job, as an expert in stealth and assassination, he has seen and done many things in the field. Although, he knows every dog has its days. It seems he's met his match in more ways than one.
(TW: Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of weapons, Mentions of Death, Mentions of killing and Assassination, Graphic descriptions of death.)
Drabble 1:
He was simple, he always was.
Like clockwork:
“Tick Tock”
He moved his fingers over the pistol, gliding them over the knicks and scrapes in the metal. He thumbed the edge of the holster it was snuggled into, thinking of how many skirmishes he has been in with his trusty, MK23.
He noted how rare it was for him to just sit and reflect like this; it was a strange, yet, welcome feeling. His instincts told him that there wouldn’t be too many more days spent with it in his hands, he just had a feeling about it.
“Tick Tock”
He breathed in deeply, inhaling the smell of the earth around his body. As he had always done, he removed the last of the dirt from the deep pit he had dug. Carefully making sure to dig vertically so as to not draw attention to the plot of earth he had just upturned.
“Tick Tock”
He looked up above him, wiping the beads of sweat from above his eyebrows as he did so. The circle of trees around him rustled in the wind, the sound of the leaves scraping across the forest floor comforted him in a way he couldn’t quite describe. He watched on, the stars shining above him unbothered by useless mortal affairs, twinkling in unison.
Somehow, they reminded him of the fairy lights you had hung up on his patio a few weeks ago. He remembers pitching a fit about them, grumbling about them being a waste of electricity. Though, secretly, he enjoyed the personal touches you added to his space, it made him feel alive.
You, made him feel alive.
“Tick Tock”
He pulled the letter from his jacket pocket, the one that had been dropped in the mail for him a few weeks ago by his agency. It was crumpled and worn; A small wallet-sized picture of a woman was paper clipped onto the outside of it. Its condition was pristine in comparison to the paper.
He still remembered opening it for the first time.
He had just woken up to the sound of his text messages going off, a lone number ‘7’ in the message bubble let him know that his next assignment had been delivered to him. He pulled himself from his sleep-filled stupor, his body aching from his previous assignment.
“Tick Tock”
He pulled himself back to reality and unraveled the paper. Trying his best to stay focused on the task at hand, your photo had fallen into the soft earth beneath his feet. He did not move to pick it up, instead, he stared at the words on the paper. Despite his best efforts, the contents took him back to that first day.
He had placed his long, black hair into a messy bun atop his head that morning, thinking nothing of it as he put his mug into the coffee dispenser. Ripping open the package he had retrieved from his mailbox, he was greeted with a cover letter of sorts it read:
Good Morning AGENT 7, HYBE HQ has asked for your full cooperation on a new project.
YOU HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED A NEW TASK, IF YOU ACCEPT YOU ARE REQUIRED TO COMPLETE THIS TASK IN 1 MONTH’S TIME, FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN A BURN NOTICE.
By opening this seal and reading beyond this point, HYBE HQ will take it as your acceptance of this operation, and MIN YOONGI A.K.A “AGENT 7” will be placed under constant surveillance for the next month, and must report back to HQ weekly.
FAILURE TO REPORT BACK TO HQ WEEKLY WILL FOREFIT YOUR AGREEMENT AND CONSTITUTE A ROGUE STATUS, THIS WILL RESULT IN AN IMMEDIATE BURN NOTICE
Yoongi sighed, “Enough with the fucking dramatics.” He groaned in annoyance.
Breaking open the seal of the black manila envelope, he pulled a stack of papers free. His groggy form took in the envelope's contents; His eyes clocked the small, wallet-sized, photo paper clipped to the front of it. His interest was immediately peaked, you were breathtakingly beautiful. In his hands was page after page filled to the brim with crucial life details, he held your death warrant.
TARGET: Y/N, Y/L/N
KNOWN ALIAS(ES): MIDNIGHT OR BLUE
THIS TARGET IS CONSIDERED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS
THREAT LEVEL : 0
(LOW NUMBERS INDICATE INCREASED DIFFICULTY TO AGENTS WHEN RANKED ON A 1-10 SCALE)
PLEASE EXHIBIT EXTREME CAUTION WHEN IN CLOSE PROXIMITY.
SKILL SET: A comprehensive list of known skills is included below. However, It is important to note that:
HYBE does not possess full knowledge of MIDNIGHT's capabilities.
MIDNIGHT is known to fight with an unregistered form of combat. Y/N is speculated to have created a martial arts technique unique to their fighting style.
Through careful analysis, HYBE experts have concluded that it contains mixed forms of martial arts that MIDNIGHT is speculated to have mastered.
MIDNIGHT IS LETHAL IN HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT
MIDNIGHT is said to have ample knowledge of poisons and medicinal remedies. MIDNIGHT often uses this knowledge in close combat against enemies; They have been known to create lethal combinations of incurable and fast-acting poisons to dip their bullets and knives into.
MIDNIGHT has extensive knowledge of various weapons and their uses. They possess the ability to dismantle and use their opponent's weapons against them mid-combat.
TARGET HAS BEEN KNOWN TO ATTACK WITH A PERSONALIZED MK23 PISTOL DECORATED WITH A DARK BLUE COLOR AND HAND-PAINTED STARS.
Avoid direct contact with the Target when possible, Stealth is essential.
ABOVE ALL ELSE
Agent MIDNIGHT is a threat that MUST BE ELIMINATED.
“I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me.” He mumbled softly, into his favorite mug. A small smirk spread over his face as he took a sip of the black coffee.
“A burn notice, huh?” He thought to himself, he wondered just how detrimental your death was to his agency for them to assign him to you.
They had not only called one of the top seven agents, but they had also risked threatening his life with a Burn Notice. Something they rarely resorted to unless an agent had gone rogue or broken code. He wondered if they had the other top six agents on standby just in case he failed. He wondered if they would be the ones to carry out the hit on him, he had hoped so. This assignment was turning into an interesting one rather quickly.
“Tick Tock”
He watched you for days, waiting for the most organic moment to approach. It just so happened, you had given him an opening at a concert. He was dressed casually, an oversized black shirt and ripped blue jeans adorned his slender body.
He had paired his attire with his favorite pair of black Converse and silver jewelry. A small silver chain hung around his neck, with silver rings adorning each hand. He made sure to have his tattoo sleeves on full display, intricate artwork trailed up his arms, hiding the harsh secrets of his trade beneath them.
Your file described men with an “Alternative” style as your type and he wanted to stand out in all the ways that would have mattered to you; He still remembers the moment you locked eyes from across the dingy little dive bar.
He’d be lying if he said his heart hadn't skipped a few beats.
There you stood beneath the shitty lighting, a drink in one hand and your middle finger sticking out at the man in front of you. You stuck out your tongue at him, the sliver piercing on it glinting in the light. He was more than interested, the dude in front of you stomped away in anger. He knew his chance was now or never.
He wished that he had told himself to stop before you had gotten a chance to disrupt his life.
“Tick Tock”
You came into his life like a whirlwind, at first it was strictly business. He sweet-talked you, making you listen to sweet nothings as he spoke about fake adventures and very real feelings.
You spoke to him of your “Adventures” as well. When he would ask questions to deepen his understanding of your psyche, you would grow tense. Over and over again, he received the same responses that were delivered with a practiced ease.
You'd tell him that you had lived a million different lives, but you were sure this one had brought you to him for a reason. Each time you said that, you’d offer him a stunning smile that never quite reached your eyes. If he had been a “normal man”, he wasn't sure if he would have caught it.
Still, he thinks of the night it all changed for him.
You had just gotten home from another rave, one that you had forced him to accompany you to. He had been annoyed at first but figured that it would help give him an opening to kill you without having to fight you. He had gone with a hopeful mind, his knives concealed in a holster strapped around his ankle. He barely remembers the night, a drug-fueled haze clouds his vision when he tries.
You had just taken something, and he watched as you placed another small pill on your tongue. Pulling it back into your mouth and you smiled, your face filled with mirth…and something else he couldn’t quite place his finger on. It was a split second of vulnerability, then your carefully crafted mask was back up.
You reached out and pulled him in by the lapels of his leather jacket. He stumbled forward, his chest meeting yours halfway, and before he could protest, you had locked your lips with his. Your tongues clashed as the beat of the music pulsed in the background, the cold metal of your piercing against his tongue made him shiver.
You made sure to make him swallow whatever you had taken, and when you pulled away, your faces were flushed. You were both out of breath, and the tension was thick between you. There were hundreds of people around you, though, it felt as if you were the only two there.
He felt you shift under his intense gaze. In a brief moment of clarity, it dawned on him...you had planned this from the start.
You had picked the perfect place to test your theory, there was no way for him to throw up the unknown drug. The Rave was held in an abandoned warehouse with hundreds of other people, and he couldn’t risk leaving your side and losing the opportunity to strike. He also couldn't risk proving your suspicions of him correct.
The way you effortlessly played mind games served as a reminder of how dangerous you were. He couldn't afford to be inebriated around you.
The effect was almost immediate, things were amplified on this particular drug. He could feel the beat pulsing through his body. He watched the people around him become blurred, sweaty bodies danced against each other, and he could feel the sweat against his skin.
It was too much, too overwhelming.
He reached his hand out for yours, searching for some kind of familiarity, in hopes that it would ground him. The feeling of vulnerability made his heart race and processing this emotion was far beyond his capabilities. He was fighting to stay sane among the sea of people.
He felt weightless as he moved towards you. Somehow amid the drug taking effect and his subsequent disorientation, You had maneuvered your way to another part of the building. He stumbled towards your body, reaching for your hand and missing you by mere seconds.
He blinked and you slipped away from him in the crowd.
He tried to remain calm, but he couldn’t seem to get ahold of himself. Time seemed to stall, there he stood in the middle of hundreds of strangers. His body was trembling against his better judgment.
He had to find you and get out, quickly, but you were gone. He had failed his mission and The Burn notice would be issued for him after he told the director of his Failure to execute MIDNIGHT. If the Top Six didn’t kill him first, he was sure that he was going to die of a panic attack right there.
It was at that moment that he felt the gentle touch of a warm palm on his shoulder. He flipped around quickly, grabbing the hand that landed on him with an iron grip. He pulled the owner of the palm in close and there you stood, a look of confusion on your face.
“Are you okay?” You asked, a look of mild concern lacing your delicate features.
“No, please don’t do that. Don’t give me that look.” He begged internally. He doesn’t remember how long he stood there with your wrist in his hand, taking in each detail of your face. He only remembers pulling you, his savior, into a tight embrace. His racing heart slowly calmed itself, and he felt his shoulders sag in relief.
“You came back.” He whispered.
“Of course I did, I never left.” You mumbled back.
He doesn't remember much from that night, like where his Knives had gone or who bought whom tacos later that night, but he remembers the passionate love affair that followed.
He thought of those long nights and early mornings with you.
The lovemaking and the long-winded, 3 am talks, with no real point other than to hear each other speak. Those moments had made him giddy, butterflies would rise in his stomach at the thought of you. Something he had never had happen before. He was learning a lot about you, things that had not been mentioned in the papers he was given.
You told him personal things, knowledge that seemed detrimental to who you were as a person. You told him about how your favorite pass time was to chart the stars and map constellations. How, when you were a kid, the only way to find your father’s secluded home was by using the Andromeda Constellation, which was only visible an hour before dawn.
How you only felt comfortable moving and living by the moonlight, because in your words, “the stars raised you.” He even loved hearing useless facts, like how your favorite shirt was a thrift find that read “BUSH DID 9/11.” In bold black lettering.
He remembers you caressing his tattoos, touching the raised skin with a tenderness he had long forgotten. He had gotten them years ago to cover the countless visible scars he had gotten from his extreme training and harsh missions. It was easier to try and forget them when there was nice art on his body, he could pretend to be somewhat normal.
You kissed each scar littering his arms, complimenting them with a fervor he wasn’t sure he deserved. Your delicate touch and sweet words made him feel like a person again. A talent he was sure only you possessed and like the simple man he was, he had fallen deeply in love.
It was almost as if you had seen right through his shitty little charade all along. He wasn’t “Agent 7” around you; He was, and always had been, Min Yoongi.
You had brought color into his dull and monotonous routine. A routine he hadn't even realized he was trapped in until you had come rushing in. It was as if he blinked and suddenly, weeks had gone by. The Month was drawing to a close, like a moth to a flame, he hadn't even realized when he had started to seek out your warm presence.
It wasn’t until his assignment director slapped him with a dose of reality.
“Contact with the Target, codename MIDNIGHT has been established. How will you proceed Agent 7?” The cold monotone voice had droned on. He had heard that voice many a time, though, something about it unsettled him this time.
Yoongi stared at the screen listlessly, the silence deafening as the harrowing realization dawned on him. He had forgotten his mission, he had forgotten that you were the enemy. How could a fool like him allow that to happen?
“Agent 7, How will you proceed moving forward?” The director asked again, her flat tone slightly aggravated and impatient this time.
Yoongi snapped his head up, making eye contact with the director. “Accordingly.” He grumbled before abruptly ending the video call.
“Tick Tock”
You were incapable of love, he could see how detached you were from him, from your reality. Though, he had hoped the 4 short weeks had spent with you was enough to change your mind. He couldn't bring himself to harm the only woman he would ever love.
He laughed to himself, he liked to think that you had left him hints about how you truly felt. He’d like to believe that some part of you had tried to leave him room to judge who you were. He still feels as though he had become a fool. A simple little fool blinded by his love for you, that much was clear from the way he allowed you to slip past his defenses so easily…so quickly.
He loved You; He needed You…Not the other way around.
Silently, he hoped that what little courage he had to say it to you would manifest itself tonight.
“Tick Tock”
He shook his head, removing those thoughts from his brain. Pulling his phone out of his back pocket, he checked the time.
“11:55 p.m., July 31st.” He mumbled. Though there was no real sense of urgency in his voice, death loomed over him, like a mother watching her baby in its cradle. He had known it was time, he and death were old friends at this point.
“They’ll be coming for me soon.” He thought to himself. Digging his hands into the soft earth around him, he gathered his strength to hoist himself up onto the surface. Right before he launched himself up, he saw a hand reach itself into the deep pit, the mysterious hand was outstretched towards him.
He jumped back, no one should have known where he was, it was a secluded forest area owned by HYBE, and no one could know…unless..they were a field Agent.
He had braced himself for impact, “A burn notice this early?” He thought to himself, he was confused since they usually went into effect 30 minutes after being issued. He quickly fumbled for his gun. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight, not yet. He prepared for the worst until he heard your soft timbre. The sound of your voice graced his ears and a flood of goosebumps erupted over his entire body.
“Y/n.” He said softly, his shoulders sagging in relief, though the alarm bells that had set in still lingered.
“Yoongi, pass me the shovel, it’ll be easier to climb out if you grab onto it and I pull you up.” You whispered. Wriggling your fingers at him, your face peeked over the edge of the hole.
He wanted to ask you a million questions, but he couldn’t seem to find the words when he needed them. He knew it was an awful idea to pass you the shovel. Every part of his instincts shouted at him to listen, but he obliges anyway, unable to express his reservations about your plan. He launched it up, your hand gripping onto it and pulling it over the ledge.
You backed away from the ledge and he feels a familiar shift in the air. He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, tamping down the unpleasant feelings beginning to surface. He knew what came next, though he had vehemently hoped that it wasn’t the case.
You were the one he wanted to love, he hoped you would give him the chance to say that, but, from the looks of it, he didn’t believe that lady luck was on his side today.
“Tick Tock”
The sound of a gun clicking filled the air.
His vision of the moon and stars was obscured by the barrel of a suppressor. The dark blue gun attached to it stood out even in the darkness and the hand-painted stars glinted in the moonlight. He sighed, making eye contact with you. There was no hesitation, no fear in his eyes as he watched your movements.
“You’re so smart Min, and it makes me fucking sick.” You said, your voice cold and calculated. “You knew this whole time, didn’t you?-” you whispered. Yoongi registered the slight tremble in your hand, “Who I was and what I was after…”
He smiled one of those bright, gummy, smiles that made your heart skip a beat every time. You swallowed hard. “Agent Midnight, let's not play stupid.” He said, his deep timbre ringing out into the night air.
Goosebumps erupted all over your body. His face showed no signs of distress, just a tinge of sadness and something akin to disappointment. The knowledge that you put that emotion on his face was causing a reaction of sorts in your mind.
It pissed you off to no end that he was the sole cause of your wavering emotions. There wasn’t a moment you could remember feeling like this. You don't remember feeling at all really; You hadn’t been given the chance to understand what love was…You weren’t capable of it, that's what made you such a wonderful field agent.
“Agent 7, it's wonderful to finally meet you. I’m Agent 0.” You said, voice slightly trembling as you revealed your true identity.
Yoongi's mask of indifference broke as the realization that his mission was doomed from the start dawned on him.
“The ever-elusive rogue, Agent 0, huh?” He chuckled. “Humbled, truly.” He said, his tone devoid of all emotion as he realized just how powerful of an enemy you were.
You were a legend of sorts at HYBE HQ. When “the numbers” were initially recruited, There were 10 total. They were all ranging from 0-10 based on their skill set. The lower the number, the higher the rank in the agency. He knows this because he had been recruited as one. Numbers rarely met each other in the field unless it was needed.
Of course, you had been seen as an all-star of sorts. Your knowledge was endless; Rumors of you being the "Angel of Death" had circulated during your stay at HYBE. No one knew what you looked like, only that you worked the most dangerous missions, and if you were assigned to a group mission, success rates skyrocketed.
You were an important and valuable asset…a dangerous and volatile one to possess for any agency.
It's said that after one particularly harsh mission, your psyche broke. After your stint in Budapest on a solo mission, you had come back changed. During your few weeks there, they lost contact with you, and with no way of finding out what happened to you, they had branded your mission compromised, and you were given the title MIA.
They sent search parties in an attempt to recover your remains. However, every party they sent returned gravely injured, If they returned at all.
HYBE was at a loss. During this time, they had done their best to cover up the largest fuck-up they had ever had. Any records of your existence were wiped from their systems. The few who remembered you were forced to sign NDAs and anyone who did not cooperate with HYBE was branded a rogue and executed on sight.
Eventually, they stopped sending search parties and assigned the other “numbers” to the mission instead. These were people you had trained with at some point or another, and they had the futile hope that maybe you would be receptive to their mind games. They started with 10, the least valuable asset HYBE had in their top agents, still deadly and capable.
His body was recovered only hours after entering Budapest, he was beheaded and burned to a crisp, and nothing but his charred remains were found. The only thing left to identify him was a single tooth lodged into the back of his throat from blunt force trauma.
His skull was fractured from what they were certain was a kick to the face, and the tooth was left on purpose; It was a warning. Despite this, they sent 2 more agents. 9 stood no chance, his remains were never recovered, and it's still unknown what happened to him. 8… well, you eventually did come back with her.
You had crashed into the front of the agency with your Black 1974 Chevelle SS, it's also said that the car was your one and only prized possession. You had mowed down almost everyone in your path, leaving a wake of blood and destruction from driving it through the front gates.
Everyone who lived to see it said you walked out of the wreckage gracefully; your body unscathed. In tow, you had the newly deceased Agent 8, her body was almost unrecognizable.
You had dragged her twisted and mangled frame through the halls of HYBE. Her body flailing about behind you like a child holding her ragdoll. You paraded her around like a grotesque trophy, to serve as a grim reminder of who you were and what you were capable of. Those who didn’t know of you or your infamy were running around to find weapons to retaliate. Those who knew better were hiding, praying for a swift death.
It's said that you dragged her all the way up to the Head Office and kicked open the door. You launched her body in, throwing it onto the desk of HYBE’s CEO before slamming what remained of the door shut.
It's still unknown what happened behind that door to this day, but minutes later you came barreling out, exchanging gunshots with the best of the best throughout the corridors of HQ.
Everyone in that room was maimed, everyone except for you. Those who had worked closely with you since your initial recruitment said that you were different... almost deranged. Any traces of humanity left were gone and your once aloof and easygoing demeanor had simply, vanished. No one in that room knew where you had been, what you had seen, or endured.
As quickly as the assault on HQ had begun, it ended, and You had disappeared once more without a trace. Yoongi had been next to go up against you, though he had never actually met you in person. The day he was to be briefed about his mission, you had attacked. 7 Agents remained, and HYBE refused to take any more casualties.
“Tick Tock”
“Y/N, you’re the one killing agents right?” You were quiet, your eyes zeroed in on his. He then heard another rustle in the distance. “You’re being watched, aren’t you?” He mouthed. Your eyes shifted in response. You stood there, the silence tense and filled with unsaid words, you were waiting for midnight, you were mere seconds away from finishing your mission.
“Midnight, finish the job so I can report back to HQ.” A man's voice sounded from the trees.
“It’s 11:59, hold your fucking horses BamBam, I have a reputation to uphold.” You snap back, your voice was even and calm.
“Right, right, you only kill at midnight." He said, nodding his head. "Well, IT'S FUCKING MIDNIGHT, MIDNIGHT.” He whisper shouted. "And I don't feel like being caught in enemy territory over your reputation." You flicked him off, never turning around to gauge his reaction.
“Tick Tock”
You looked away from where yoongi stood, his pleading gaze was hurting your heart. Without any more hesitation, you pulled the trigger. A small “fwip” noise filled the air as you did so.
A burning pain shot through Yoongi’s body, it was unlike anything he had ever felt before, it was excruciating. It was then, that he remembered the papers he was given. You dipped all your bullets in poison, his death would be quick but agonizing. He bit his tongue, not wanting to show weakness in his last moments. He never moved to reach for his gun, he would allow you to hurt him, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt you.
He slumped down in the hole, his vision was going blurry, and he could feel his heart rate slowing. His gaze never wavered, making sure to keep you in his sight. He watched as your figure doubled and he mouthed out three of the last words he would ever say before he allowed death’s embrace to swallow him whole.
“I love you.” He choked out.
He watched your blurry visage mouth out five distinct words. “I love you too, yoongi.” and just like that his world faded to black, with a sad smile spread across his face.
“It's done.” You grumbled, looking away from the hole.
It made you visibly ill to watch him writhe in agony, something that was never an issue before; You would have nightmares about this for sure. You pulled a small barely visible paper from your pocket and tossed it into the hole, and it landed with a small thud on his chest.
“Good Job Midnight lets's report back to HQ and get you that promotion.” with that, you left the only man you would ever love behind, his body cramped into a grave he had dug himself.
“Tick Tock”
Shortly after, a group of men found his body. Shaking their heads at their fallen comrade.
“Midnight took another one,” Agent 1 mumbled, he was used to cleaning up after Agent 0 by now, he just didn’t expect Agent 7 to fall so easily. After checking the body for a pulse he confirmed Agent 7’s death. He let out a ‘tsk’ noise, the frustration setting in since he had kind of looked forward to the thrill of hunting Agent 7. “Come on, let's report to HQ about his failure and collect the Burn Notice reward.” They all moved quickly, racing to get back to HYBE to collect the reward.
“Tick Tock”
An hour later, Yoongi’s body shifted. He woke up with a strangled gasp. Groaning as he touched his body with a panicked fervor. It felt like a massive bus had landed on top of him, and his chest was burning from how quickly his heart was pumping. The paper on his chest was the first thing he grasped as his confusion set in, he should be dead. He felt you kill him, he. should. be. dead.
He fumbled with the small folded note, yanking it open in hopes it would have answers. Your distinct handwriting was on it, it read as follows:
“I hope you can forgive me for hurting you. I shot you at a non-vital point with a bullet coated in a poison I designed myself, I named it “Lover’s Paradise.” It's meant to paralyze you for several hours and place you in a sleep so deep that your heart rate is essentially undetectable. Anyone who sees you would classify your body as deceased.
Min yoongi, you’ve been dramatic since I met you. I have tried countless times to kill you since we met. I knew who had sent you and why. I knew who you were from the moment we met at the Dive bar. Still, I couldn't bring myself to hurt you. (despite my best efforts) Instead, I tried to make myself hard to love, I tried to keep you at arm's length. Though, somehow, you broke through my defenses. Your effortless way of loving me despite my flaws is what made me love you. I never lied to you, I showed you parts of me I thought had been killed and buried long ago. So, If you know what’s good for you, you won’t accept my invitation.
You make me believe in love Min Yoongi, I'd like to explore that part of myself with you, in hopes that it won't backfire. I’ll wait for you in Budapest, I’m leaving a nondescript code I hope you’ll be smart enough to decipher on your own. I’ll wait as long as it takes, If you decline, hope you’ll allow me to love you freely in our next life together.
World building! How many other hobbies or careers involve creating an entire world all your own? Not many.
There’s nothing quite like setting out to create your fictional world. Drawing maps, deciding which civilizations live where, throwing in crazy kinds of solar systems and vegetation if you’re really going all out… it can be a ton of fun.
However, one of the writer’s most exciting tasks is also one of their most intimidating.
On one hand: you get to build your own world. On the other hand… you have to build your own whole entire WORLD?! Where do you even start??
Well, you can start right here. Today I’m going to walk you through some basic pointers to get your world up and running.
World Building and World Building
Right off the bat, you should be aware that there are two kinds of world building. There’s the large-scale fantasy world building which I will be talking about today, and there is also world building that goes into other story genres.
Every writer is going to do some level of world-building, whether you’re painting a verbal picture of the lake your character goes to to get some peace of mind, pulling a reader into an important event and making them feel like they’re actually attending, or creating a whole new planet for your space pirate to fly to.
The Top 6
When you have a massive task ahead of you it’s always best to start by breaking it down. So, let’s take a look at the top 6 features you’re going to be focusing on when building your world.
WHO
Ask yourself: who lives in your world?Most likely there is a variety of species and races. Or, you could decide on a world where every creature is exactly alike — it is of course, your world.
Do the creatures of your planet have different cultures or are these homogeneous?
It will be easiest to start off with your main characters and work out from there. What is their species and race, and what does their culture look like?
For each species in your world, jot down the following:
Species name
Race names
Physical description
Language
Cultural notes
Special abilities
WHAT
Ask yourself: what social structures exist in your society? Again, start with your main characters and work out from there. For each species within your world, you’re going to need to determine how they manage their society.
What beliefs do they have? Are they religious, or more philosophical? Is there a divide between the two? What do their political structures look like? How strict are their laws?
You’ll want to consider trade and economy as well. Do they have a money system? A barter system?
You may not need to go too in depth with every single species in your world, but you’ll want a basic note or two about each in case it comes up in your writing.
For each species in your world, decide at least one point about each of the following:
Religion
Philosophies
Politics and laws
Economy
WHERE
Ask yourself: where does your species exist?Finally, we get to the physical world of your world building. What is the geography like? The biomes? Is your world bountiful with resources or is it a dying planet with species’ in desperate search of new sustenance?
For some writers, they will take years fleshing out the ‘where’ of their world, including the cosmos surrounding it. For others, a map with the basic locations of the story will suffice. It is up to you how in-depth you would like to go.
At the very least, you should outline one or two notes about each of the following:
Solar system (does your world exist near ours or is it completely fabricated?)
Geography (this one can be split per species — forest elves live in the woods, nymphs live near the sea, etc.)
Biomes (split by species region)
Resources (split by species region)
WHEN
Ask yourself: when do the events of your story occur?The story you are telling may be the main focus of your book, but what happened to lead up to it? What has your main character’s species and world been through that is causing the story to occur? Even if the events of the world do not impact your story much, they will have had at least some level of ripple effect that reflects on your characters’ day-to-day. Was this civilization a warring one and the story takes place in a broken society? Or, has their society reached its peak of enterprise?
For each region in your world, establish the following:
Founding events
Defining events
Recent events
(if relevant) Future events
WHY
Ask yourself: why do the species in your world behave as they do?The why of your story will tie in with many of the previous points you’ve outlined, but it gets more to the point in a way that can directly apply to your story and characters. Why are things happening as they are today? What evolution did this society go through? Do they share common goals now or are your characters going against the grain of their people? What conflicts exist in this world, and is your main character involved in those conflicts or attempting to avoid involvement?
A few pertinent notes to take per species would be:
Social evolution
Societal goals
Societal conflicts
HOW
Ask yourself: how do the species in your world solve problems? In the category of ‘who’, you will have outlined your main characters’ abilities. These could be magical or technological or maybe they are super strong, or super smart. Now, you can get deeper into the magical or technological systems of your world. Start with your main characters and work outwards. Is everyone magical here? Do different species and races have different abilities? Is there a human or human-related race, and at what point are they at with their technology?
Figure out the following (for each species and race if applicable):
Magic abilities
Technological advancements
Scientific knowledge
Militaristic power
The World is yours: Command it
An author with a strong command of the world they are writing within will have at their fingertips an endless landscape of possibility. Look to authors such as J.R.R. Tokien or George R.R. Martin — it’s no wonder their works are so successful. They perfectly encapsulate what fantasy readers are looking for in a novel: escapism. The worlds don’t need to be pretty, they need to be fully formed; realistic in their mysticism.
World-building can seem like a lot of work, and it is. But do it bit by bit, and try to keep it fun. Don’t sit down in one day expecting to create your whole world. It’ll take time. But that time spent will be well worth it in the end!
As a Writer it’s my goal to help and uplift other writers and future Authors alike so here’s a Masterlist of resources I’ve compiled for you to use for your writing!
If you know any sites or have any recommendations for me to add, my asks/submissions are open!!
I’ll update these as I further my journey & research into becoming an Author one day, please reblog this to help your fellow writers!
Organization, Advice, and Research
Hiveword - A website with multiple writing resources available such as planning, index cards, articles with advice, name and character generators, and research capabilities. The free account offers the essentials such as scenes, characters, and plotlines.
Storyteller’s Roadmap - A website that helps you plan, write, and revise a story thoroughly. It including guides to write specific descriptions along with a thesaurus, templates and worksheets, an Idea Generator and more.
Helping Writers become Authors - A website in a blog style format with multiple articles and resources including writing mistakes, novel outlining, story structures, as well as character arcs and many more.
UK resources for writers - A website with resources for learning how to write with free and paid courses, writing opportunities, and more for writers in the UK.
Creative Writers Academy - A website with free classes guiding a step by step through the publication process.
Reedsy - A blog style website that includes Articles about publication and centered around learning how to publish a book with many tools and generators for writing.
Poets and Writers - A website for Writers and poets with resources like publishing your writing, finding your community and more.
Research Links for Writers - An HTML site with multiple links and resources for writers spanning upon multiple genres, subject matters, and history.
The internet public library - A website encyclopedia for essays and academic papers.
Writing realistic Injuries - A website with a list of different types of injuries and how to write them out including, impacts, and the effects of them.
RanGen - A website for writers with writing challenges, resources, and generators for things like personalities, characters, poisons, writing prompts, etc.
Ivy Tech Library - A library database website with a lot of resources for research including folklore and by region.
How to write a story by Creativepromptsforwriting on Tumblr - A different Masterlist with many more resources about writing, staying motivated, certain plots, etc.
Self Publishing
A step-by-step Video about Self Publishing - A video by Gilliain Perkins explaining her process of how she self published her Best Seller Novel.
How to format your book yourself through word - A video by Natalia Leigh with a step-by-step process on how she formats her manuscript. Her video covers: Page Size, Margins, Line spacing, Indentation, Chapter Styles, Page Numbers, and Headers.
Strategies for Marketing your book - A video made by iWriterly she explains 34 different strategies that can be used to market a book (while marketing her book lol!) and includes a downloadable checklist of these strategies
Masterclass How to copyright a book in 7 steps - An article guiding step by step how to properly copyright a self published book.
Fiverr - A freelancing website where you can find someone to make your illustrations, covers, and even get editors as well as someone to voice or make an audiobook for you.
Up Work - A freelancing website where you can find someone to make your illustrations, covers, and even get editors as well as someone to voice or make an audiobook for you.
Beta Books - A website for Beta Readers can read your book and return their feedback. It lets you sort and filter your feedback by reader, chapter, or keyword, to get your book done.
Docucopies - A printing service website with a short guide about self publishing, buying copyright, and ISBN references and sites, all while including printing services (10% off of orders over 350$)
The Book Patch - A book printing service which includes Print-On-Demand services or cheap printing services allowing for smaller quantities. The Book Patch does not offer expensive publishing package, and keeps book publishing costs to a minimum.
Affordable Book Printing - A website with book publishing services including printing books but also formatting e-books, Cover Design, as well as Marketing and more
Generators & AUs
Random AU Generator - A website that generates AUs randomly.
Fantasy Name/Realm Generator - A website that generates random fantasy names.
Random Name Generator - A website that generates random names based on the options chosen with the ability to choose by region and gender.
Service Scape Writing Prompt Generator - A website that generates in depth writing prompts as chosen by the genre selected.
Writing Plot Generator - A website that generates plots based upon your selections of genre, title, etc.
Art Breeder - A website that can use a series of images to generate photos or the perfect character for your story.
