I Can’t Get Squid Game Out Of My Head But What If The End Of Season 3 Is Gi-hun Successfully Ending

Y O U  C A N ‘ T  K I L L  M E

STOP YOU'RE MAKING ME CRY

This very moment is when Soap is rushed with every emotion he ever experienced during his end days in the 22nd Regiment, after believing he lost everyone he cherished.

I gotcha, kid. You're okay.

“Boss… I don’t know how you do it. All I could do was obsess over revenge… doubting my comrades along the way. But even after all we accomplished, the phantom pain never let up. If anything, it just got worse. But you understood that from the start, didn’t you? From the moment you opened your eyes in that hospital. You knew it wouldn’t go away… Yet, you’ve been fighting the pain and confronting your phantoms the whole time… Knowing full well that the battle would never end… not till the day you die. I respect that now… more than ever. It’s an honor and a privilege, Big Boss.”

WE’RE NOT FINISHED YET!

it's 2am in where i live and a video game page decided to post a compilation of the saddest deaths in video game history

one of it consisted of soap mactavish's death yES I AM UGLY CRYING DONT TOUCH ME

Frank Woods + Character tropes

CHAPTER 13 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

>> MASTERLIST

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——

“Noona?”

The voice sent a shiver down your spine, stopping you in your tracks. His voice was cautious and uncertain but heavy with unspoken questions. You turned sharply toward the door, your heart pounding as you did so. And there, standing in the doorway, your eyes widened in disbelief. 

Jun-ho stood there, his expression unreadable, though his sharp gaze flickered between you and the room behind you. His presence was both a comfort and a threat — he was someone familiar in this unfamiliar place, yet someone who could easily shatter everything you had been trying to hold together.

“Jun-ho…” you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice steady.

“His brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

For a brief moment, you considered telling him the truth. About everything, In-ho, the games, the reason you were here. But your self-preservation kicked in, forcing you to piece together a half-truth instead.

“I… I needed a place to think,” you let out a shaky breath. “A friend told me about this place when I was looking for in-ho.”

Jun-ho’s stare hardened. “A friend?” His voice was laced with skepticism. You couldn’t blame him.

You nodded, forcing yourself to look confused, as if this revelation meant nothing to you. “I wasn’t sure if it was his.”

Jun-ho stepped further into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. His presence filled the space, tense and searching. His dark eyes darted over the room, scanning the familiar surroundings as if he were seeing a ghost. Then, he scoffed. “You really expect me to believe that?”

You held your breath.

“You’re correct, this is hyung’s apartment,” he continued, stepping past you, his fingers grazing over the furniture. “I came here once before he disappeared.” He stopped in front of a bookshelf, his hand ghosting over a framed photo. You knew what it was — a picture of In-ho before the games, before he was swallowed whole by the world he had tried to escape.

Jun-ho picked it up, staring at it for a long moment. His jaw clenched. “I searched everywhere for him,” his voice was quieter now, but the bitterness in it was impossible to miss. “For years, I thought something happened to him. That maybe he was dead. And then I find out he wasn’t just alive — he was running the damn thing.”

Your stomach twisted as he set the frame down with more force than necessary before turning to you. “And now, I find you here,” his gaze pierced through you. “That’s not a coincidence.”

Jun-ho exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I figured I should let you know,” his voice was rough, like he had been carrying these words for too long. “Maybe it’s because you actually seem like you care about him. Or maybe I just need to hear myself say it out loud.”

A brief silence hung between you, heavy and suffocating. Then he let out a humorless laugh. “He’s the front man, noona. My brother runs the games.”

You flinched at his words, even though you already knew the truth. You averted his gaze.

Jun-ho studied your reaction carefully, his eyes darkened with suspicion. “You don’t seem surprised.”

You felt your heart thrum harder. Your lips parted, but no words came. You only looked at him, seeing his gaze over you.

Jun-ho stepped closer. “Did you already know?”

You felt your defenses crumbling as your thoughts spiraled. It seemed your silence was enough of an answer as he let out a bitter chuckle.

“I used to think I could save him,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I chased a ghost. And when I finally found him… he shot me.”

Your heart clenched.

“I gave up on him,” Jun-ho said, his voice quieter now. “Because he already made his choice.”

“And what if he didn’t have a choice?”

Jun-ho’s gaze flickered with something unreadable after you said it, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Are you saying that you believe it… or because you don’t want to admit the truth?”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. Jun-ho let out a slow breath, turning away from you and walking towards the shelves. He sifted through a stack of books, letters, and relics of a life that In-ho had left behind.

A life that no longer existed.

“Back then,” Jun-ho started, his voice becoming distant. “I thought my brother was the strongest person I knew. He always had a way of pulling himself out of the darkest situations,” his fingers traced over an old medal, the one In-ho had won in university. “But now? Now, I don’t even know if he’s still my brother.”

You felt the ache in your chest intensify. You couldn’t believe how harshly the world treated these brothers. Then, he finally turned back to you, his gaze softer, but the weight of his words heavier than ever.

“Noona, whatever reason you’re here, whatever you’re holding onto, please ask yourself this,” his voice was low, filled with something almost pleading. “Are you willing to live a lie until the day you die, or are you going to do what’s right?”

Your breath hitched as he spoke.

“Because if you know the truth, you only have two choices,” he continued. “Tell me everything you know about him, the frontman, and save the lives of many… or you can bury this forever.”

The weight of his words pressed down on you like a crushing force. 

Tell the truth. Betray In-ho. Expose everything.

Or stay silent. Go back. Live in the shadows.

Your throat felt dry, the room suffocating. You had fought for survival. You had fought for In-ho. But now, the real fight was beginning, and you had no idea which side you were on. 

Silence filled the apartment long after Jun-ho had left, not realizing he already did. But in your mind, his voice still echoed, lingering like a shadow that refused to fade.

The weight of his words settled deep into your chest, a pressure that made it hard to breathe. You sank onto the couch, staring at nothing yet seeing everything. The past, the present, and the uncertain future that stretched ahead of you.

If you exposed In-ho and the games, the world would finally know the truth — the horrors of the games, the lives lost, the twisted system that had turned desperation into entertainment. But what then? Would it truly end? Would it stop the games, or would the people in power simply replace him and erase his existence as if he never mattered?

Would it change anything at all?

And In-ho…

You pressed your fingertips to your temples, squeezing your eyes shut. It wasn’t just about what he had done, about the blood on his hands. It was about the moments in between — the quiet ones, the fragile ones, the ones where you saw glimpses of the man he used to be.

The man who had once laughed with you on the streets, who promised things he could never give. The man who, despite everything, had let you go when you asked for three days to think.

And then, there was Jun-ho.

Jun-ho, who had spent years searching for his brother only to find a monster in his place. Jun-ho, who had given up on saving him. The memory of In-ho’s bullet sinking into Jun-ho’s body made you feel sick.

Because what if he could do the same to you if you don’t come back?

How much of him was left? How much of the man you once knew still existed beneath the mask, beneath the weight of every decision he had made?

You had seen his hands tremble when he held you. You had seen the way he looked at you in the quiet moments when neither of you spoke — like he was afraid that if he did, the last piece of him that remained human would crack and shatter.

But wasn’t it already broken?

Jun-ho had been right about one thing. You could only do one of two things — expose In-ho and destroy what little remained of him, or stay silent and live with him, carrying this truth in your chest like a lead weight for the rest of your life.

You thought about the others. The ones still trapped in that nightmare, fighting for survival, fighting for a chance to crawl their way out of hell. If you did nothing, how many more would die?

And yet if you betrayed him, would it even matter?

You plopped yourself down to the bed, burying your face in your hands.

Minutes had already passed, maybe even hours. Time felt frozen, meaningless in the suffocating quiet of In-ho’s abandoned apartment.

Then, the black box with a pink bow caught your eye again.

The sight of it made your heart lurch, its place too deliberate and carefully placed. With slow, almost reluctant movements, you reached for it.

Your hands trembled as you untied the ribbon, the silk slipping between your fingers. You hesitated for a brief moment before lifting the lid. Inside, there was an envelope nestled within crisp white paper.

Your breath caught, realizing it wasn’t just any envelope. It had your name on it.

Written in sharp, deliberate strokes, the kind of handwriting you had seen on countless reports, on cold, official documents. But this was different. The way your name curved on the paper felt personal.

With an uneasy inhale, you pulled the letter free, unfolding it with care.

If you’re reading this, you’ve found your way back to me.

The first sentence made your stomach twist. It wasn’t a question, nor hopeful. Rather, it was a statement and certainty.

You asked me once why I did all this. Why I became the Front Man. The truth is, I stopped looking for a way out the moment I realized there was none. There is no justice in this world. Only power and those who wield it. I did what I had to survive.

But if I ever wished for something more, something outside of the choices I made… it would be you.

The words felt like they were cutting into your skin. Your eyes continued down the page, your breath shallow.

It was always you.

Your fingers clenched around the edges of the paper. You inhaled sharply, your pulse hammering in your ears.

You and I have always been the same. You understand survival better than anyone. You understand what it means to make impossible choices. And now, you have another one to make.

Your vision blurred for a second, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

If you choose to walk away, I won’t stop you. But they will.

But if you stay, then come back. Come back, and I will show you the world beyond this. The world we can build together. I never lied to you about that.

I will give you everything. Not as the Front Man. Not as the overseer. Not as the man who ran the games. 

Just as me. Your In-ho.

Your hands trembled as you lowered the letter, your heartbeat erratic. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you were at a crossroads.

You had spent the last few hours caught between two paths — Jun-ho’s quiet plea for justice, the weight of every life lost pressing into your ribs… and In-ho, the man who had shattered your trust, yet still held something deep inside you that you couldn’t sever.

You could leave and take this letter, burn it, and let the world know what you knew.

Or…

You could step back into the abyss.

The weight of everything threatened to crush you. You ran your hands over your head, fingers digging into your scalp as you tried to steady your erratic breaths. Your chest tightened, your thoughts racing in an endless, suffocating loop.

Jun-ho.

In-ho.

The games.

Their lives, your life, the lives of everyone still trapped in that nightmare.

No matter which path you took, someone would suffer. If you told Jun-ho the truth, you’d be condemning In-ho to a fate he could never escape. You wouldn’t want to know what the system could do to those who strayed too far from their role. They would never let him go. And if they found out about Jun-ho? He wouldn’t make it out alive.

But if you stayed silent, if you kept this secret locked away in your chest, then you were no better than the masked men who orchestrated the deaths of hundreds. You would be turning your back on the people still trapped inside, on the innocent who would be lured into the next set of games.

A sickening weight settled deep in your gut, twisting like a knife. Then, you felt a shift, some kind of pressure. Right near your ear.

Your fingers brushed against something small, firm, and foreign beneath your skin. Your stomach lurched. You pressed against the area again slowly and cautiously, the dread pooling into your veins.

It wasn’t your imagination. It was there.

A cold realization slammed into you like a freight train. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out all other noise. Your stomach twisted violently, nausea rising in your throat.

You had to get it out.

Your feet moved before your mind could fully catch up. You rushed to the kitchen, yanking open drawers with shaking hands, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The metallic clatter of utensils filled the air as you rummaged frantically until your fingers wrapped around the cool, unforgiving metal of a small knife.

You gripped it tightly, your knuckles white. Your reflection in the window caught your eye — a pale, frantic ghost of yourself as your mouth slightly opened as if gasping for air. A woman on the verge of something irreversible.

You braced yourself against the counter. With one final, shuddering breath, you angled the blade behind your ear and pressed down. Pain seared through your skin, sharp, and unforgiving. Your vision blurred, but you clenched your teeth, forcing yourself to keep going. The blade bit deeper, warm blood trickling down your neck, staining the collar of your coat.

And then, a small metallic object dislodged and tumbled onto the counter with a soft clink. It was a tiny black chip, no bigger than a fingernail, glistened under the kitchen lights, coated in fresh crimson.

Your entire body went still, and then the realization hit.

He had never intended to let you go.

A choked sob bubbled up from your throat. The walls of the apartment seemed to close in, suffocating and oppressive. Your breaths came in sharp, erratic bursts. The betrayal burned through you like acid, scorching every last remnant of hope you had left. Your chest heaved as your fingers curled into fists at your sides, your rage exploding.

With a sharp, guttural cry, you seized the closest object — an empty glass left on the counter — and hurled it across the room. The shatter echoed like a gunshot, fragments scattering across the floor. Your hands trembled, your body convulsing with anger, fear, and betrayal.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You inhaled sharply, wiping the back of your hand across your mouth as you turned toward the door. You couldn’t stay. Not here. Not in this place that reeked of his lies.

You had to leave before they came looking. Before he came looking.

One last time, your gaze swept across the apartment. The relics of the man you once thought you knew. The life he had built on a foundation of secrets.

The letter he had left you still sat on the counter, taunting you. His words, his promises, his confessions — nothing more than ink on a paper. 

It didn’t matter anymore. None of it did.

You turned away, your footsteps slow at first, then faster, more determined. You reached the door, gripping the handle with bloodstained fingers. 

Without another glance back, you slipped into the night, disappearing into the shadows.

——

The car ride was silent.

In-ho sat across from you, though he wanted to sit beside you if only you didn’t avoid him. His fingers loosely curled as if resisting the urge to reach for you. He stole glances at you in the dim light of the limousine, but you didn’t look at him. Not even once. Your gaze remained fixed outside the window, watching the city lights flicker past as if they held answers he could never give. It was all a familiar routine, one that should have been easy and controlled. But today, he felt restless.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

He had granted your request and given you space for three days. Three days apart. Three days to return to Seoul, to clear your mind, to decide whether you could live with the truths you had uncovered.

He stole a glance at you, at the way your fingers toyed absently with the hem of your coat, at the way your jaw tensed as if holding back words you refused to say.

As the limousine slowed to a stop in front of your apartment, he turned to you fully, waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t.

You simply reached for the door handle.

“Three days,” he reminded you, his voice quieter than he intended.

You hesitated for only a fraction of a second before stepping out, but he caught you looking at his lips. But just when he was about to lean in, you exited the car. No goodbye. No glance back. 

The door shut, and that was it.

He watched as you disappeared into the building, his throat tightening with something he refused to name. Then, after a long pause, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers pressing into his temples. He had done the right thing, hadn’t he? He had given you space and time.

And yet, as the car pulled away, he had never felt more like he was losing something he could never get back.

After a moment, he straightened, inhaled sharply, and signaled the drive. “Take me to my other residence.”

——

When In-ho arrived at his apartment, he didn’t immediately go inside. He stood outside the door for a long moment, staring at the numbers etched into the steel. it had been years since he had last bene here, before he had disappeared, before he had become someone else.

The apartment was dimly lit when he stepped inside, a place untouched for far too long. His footsteps were quiet against the floor as he walked through the space, past the memories he had locked away. The air carried the scent of dust and old books, the faintest trace of something familiar — something from a life that had once belonged to him before the games, before the mask.

On the table, he placed the black box with the pink ribbon. Inside was his letter, carefully folded and carefully written. He had thought of burning it a hundred times before, had debated whether you should even read the words he had poured onto the page. But in the end, he had sealed it away, hoping you would find it.

He lingered there for a moment, his fingers resting against the smooth surface of the box, before his gaze drifted toward the shelf near the window. And that was when the memory came back.

The daisies.

As a child, you had loved them. It was the same kind of flowers he’d given you when he wrapped your finger with a paper ring, imitating what you were both watching on the TV. He had never understood why the concept of marriage fascinated you so much—until he did. 

The memory played in his mind like a scene frozen in time, your small hands carefully pressing the petals between the pages of an old book, preserving them as if afraid the world would take them away from you. He had helped you once, collecting the finest daisies he could find, sneaking them into your hands like a secret only the two of you shared. 

That had been a lifetime ago.

He exhaled, pulling himself from the memory before it could tighten its grip any further. There was no use in lingering on the past, not when the present was slipping through his fingers.

Without another glance, he turned and left.

——

Hours had passed since In-ho returned, stepping into the apartment with something unfamiliar clawing at his chest. Something hopeful, perhaps. A foolish, desperate hope that maybe you had come back. That maybe he would find you here waiting. Conflicted, but still within reach.

Instead, the sight that greeted him made his blood run cold.

The counter was stained with small droplets of blood, but enough to send a wave of dread through him. And next to it, lying in plain sight, was the microchip.

His stomach dropped, realizing that you had found it.

His hands curled into fists as he stepped forward slowly and carefully. As if the weight of realization might shatter him completely. His gaze drifted to the black box that was still there, but slightly moved. The ribbon had been undone, the letter taken.

You had read it, but you were gone. 

His pulse pounded in his ears as he turned, eyes scanning the room as if you might still be hiding in the shadows. But there was nothing. Only silence, the remnants of your presence, fade by the second.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.

Damn it.

You had left. You had run. And this time, you hadn’t looked back. You weren’t just slipping away — you had vanished completely, disappearing into the shadows before he could stop you.

A flicker of something dark settled in his chest — something sharp, something dangerous. He wasn’t going to let this end like this.

He had let you go once.

He wouldn’t do it again.

Jaw clenched, eyes burning with determination, In-ho reached for his coat, slipping it on with practiced ease. Then, without hesitation, he stepped out into the night, his mind set on one thing and one thing only.

And no matter how far you ran, no matter how well you thought you could disappear, he would find you.

——

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A/N: I've decided to put this series also in AO3 and Wattpad so we could reach more people 🫶 I'm so happy with how these chapters are turning out. I find myself writing for hours (even the whole day) again so expect more updates in the next coming days ❤️ Anyway, feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

Don't forget to leave a comment in this post to be tagged in the next chapter! ✨

TAGS: @machipyun @love-leez @enzosluvr @amber-content @kandierteveilchen @butterfly-lover @1nterstellarcha0s @squidgame-lover001 @risingwithtriples @fries11 @follows-the-life-ahead @goingmerry69 @plague-cure @theredvelvetbitch @cherryheairt (p.s. if i forget to you, please let me know)

my theories for squid game season 3 (that no one asked for)

okay so the teaser has me put on a PEDESTAL and my mind came up with a lot of theories right after seeing it so here it goes:

i am writing this as i listen to vampire by olivia rodrigo

in-ho ordered to bring gi-hun inside a coffin back to the games, showing more of his cruelty and twisted game (tell me why is this idea kinda hot for me iDK I THINK IM DERANGED)

yong-sik (007) will die and geum-ja (149) will attempt to protect her son with the use of her sharp hair clip

...or geum-ja will go against yong-sik BUT THIS IS SO DAMAGING I-

all players are allowed to vote except gi-hun (seeing as he is tied up)

the next season will show gi-hun contemplating his beliefs in humanity and might slowly turn like in-ho

min-su will have redemption arc (hOPEFULLY BECAUSE THIS GUY IS A FKN PUSSY)

nam-gyu will die (OF COURSE)

remember the scene where in-ho seemed to be tearing up? i think he sees jun-ho somewhere in a surveillance camera footage

...or in-ho could be tearing up if he sees jun-hee give birth as the baby's cries will highlight his longing for his unborn child

gyeong-seok is alive and is going to be one of the guards (no-eul will help him)

jun-ho finds the island and sees no-eul and they might team up together

in-ho and jun-ho will reunite only for one of them to die (typing this made me sick)

jun-hee will give birth after myung-gi dies (or myung-gi sacrifices himself for jun-hee)

another cruelty: myung-gi will betray jun-hee

dae-ho finds about jung-bae and is completely devastated

the players who participated in the rebellion who died will be hung or something like that just like the doctor in season 1

gi-hun finds out about young-il who is truly in-ho, the front man

gi-hun finds out in-ho is jun-ho's brother, which could be the last straw for him to still believe in humanity

there will be a flashback of in-ho back when he was a player in 2015

also a flashback of in-ho before the games, explaining the deleted scene in season 1

gi-hun wins the games again - his efforts to stop the games will be for nothing as he realizes that it happens all over the world

YES there's a lot of theories but can you blame me ?! this teaser had me teRRIFIED WHAT MORE ON THE TRAILER, AND ON JUNE FREAKING 27!!!!