Seung - Homeless

Full Name: Seung (승) Age: 20 and a half Gender: Male Ethnicity: Korean Name Meaning: “Rise, ascent,” “victory, excel,” or “inherit” – an ironic contrast to his current life. Personality : Seung is the embodiment of resilience wrapped in jagged edges. He is sharp, wary, and always on high alert—like a stray dog that’s been kicked too many times. He trusts no one and expects the worst in people because, in his experience, that's all they’ve ever given him. Paranoia is second nature, making him hyper-aware of his surroundings, reading every situation like a survival puzzle.

Core Traits:

• Survivor Mentality: Does what he must to make it through the day, whether that means stealing, lying, or blending into the background.
• Emotionally Guarded: Keeps his thoughts and feelings locked away, only showing vulnerability in the solitude of his notebook.
• Anxious & Paranoid: Always tense, always expecting something to go wrong. He never truly relaxes.
• Self-Sabotaging: Pushes people away before they can hurt him, even when he doesn’t want to.
• Quick-Witted: Despite his nerves, his mind works fast, assessing threats and escape routes in every situation. -TRUSTS NO ONE- even if they seem like they're genuine, he knows better then to trust someone just because they "look nice" or "try to help him".
• Pushes people away- doesn’t let anyone close enough to hurt him. -Like an aggressive stray dog to strangers -If people try to come too close, he bites(both figuratively and literally). he has a shnak he always keeps for situations where he thinks he needs to defend himself. he may be paranoid and anxious, he can defend himself- whatever it takes to survive.

Backstory : Seung was abandoned at birth and grew up in a run-down orphanage where he learned early that love was conditional. He watched other kids get adopted, one by one, but he was always left behind. The rejection carved itself into his bones.

By the time he turned eighteen, the orphanage’s head nurse all but shoved him out the door. No money, no guidance, no safety net—just the brutal reality of the streets. He learned quickly how to survive: scavenging, stealing, staying out of sight. The notebook became his lifeline, filled with his own survival rules, scribbled thoughts, and memories he couldn’t trust to his mind alone.

The streets hardened him, but they also broke him in ways he refused to acknowledge.

Appearance :

• Height: 5’8” (173 cm) – wiry and underfed, but deceptively quick.
• Build: Lean, bordering on gaunt. His body is all sharp angles, a result of too many nights without food.
• Skin: Pale with an unhealthy undertone, as if the sun hasn’t touched him in years.
• Eyes: Dark, shadowed, and constantly darting around—like a rabbit always expecting a snare.
• Hair: very light brown almost dirty dark blond , messy, and unkempt, hanging over his face in uneven layers. He rarely has access to a mirror, let alone scissors.
• Scars: His neck and wrists are littered with old scratches and fresh wounds—self-inflicted when the anxiety gets too much.
• Expression: A mix of exhaustion and suspicion. He rarely smiles, and if he does, it never reaches his eyes.

Likes :

• Writing in his notebook—it gives him a sense of control.
• Warm food—rare and treasured. He eats fast, like someone might take it away.
• Quiet, empty places—abandoned buildings, rooftops, anywhere he can be alone.
• The smell of rain—something about it makes him feel cleaner, even if he isn’t.
• Dogs—he relates to them. Strays, abandoned, just trying to survive.

Dislikes :

• Loud noises—his nerves can’t handle it.
• Being touched—flinches automatically, as if expecting a hit.
• Authority figures—cops, social workers, anyone who claims to “help.”
• Sleeping at night—night is when the real monsters come out.
• Pity—he’d rather be ignored than looked at like some helpless stray.

Mannerisms & Quirks:

• Constantly scanning his surroundings, even when “relaxed.”
• Mumbles to himself when anxious, barely above a whisper.
• Scratches at his neck or arms when overwhelmed.
• His hands shake, especially when stressed.
• Avoids eye contact, but watches people through quick glances.
• Fidgets—taps his fingers, shifts his weight, always moving.
• Sleeps in short bursts, never truly resting.
• Hoarder mentality—keeps random scraps in his pockets (bottle caps, rubber bands, a broken pen) because "it might be useful one day." -If hes inside a house, Hell sit on the floor instead of normal furniture.

How He Talks:

• Soft-spoken, hesitant, like he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing.
• Stammers when nervous or caught off guard.
• Sentences are short and clipped—he doesn’t waste words.
• Voice gets quieter when lying or afraid.
• Muttered curses under his breath when frustrated.
• Rarely uses names—nicknames or nothing at all.

Usual Clothing:

• Oversized hoodie (dirty, frayed cuffs, stolen at some point).
• Baggy jeans (patched up, too big for him, always slipping down his hips).
• Worn-out sneakers (one sole is peeling, held together with duct tape).
• Fingerless gloves (holes in them, but they help in winter).
• A backpack (his entire world inside—his notebook, a half-eaten granola bar, a broken phone, and anything he’s managed to scavenge).

Seung is a character built on contradictions—tough but fragile, guarded but longing for connection, sharp but drowning in his own fears.

Seung is gay but deeply repressed when it comes to intimacy. Years of abandonment, trauma, and surviving on the streets have left him with severe trust issues, making it difficult for him to open up emotionally or physically. He’s never had a safe or healthy relationship, and the idea of being vulnerable—especially in a sexual context—terrifies him.

Sexual Preferences:

• Bottom, but reluctant at first – Trust is a massive hurdle for him, and he struggles with the idea of letting someone take control. He’s not the type to openly admit what he wants, even if his body betrays him.
• Prefers a partner who is patient, protective, and dominant in a reassuring way – Someone who can make him feel safe enough to let go.
• Deeply touch-starved – Despite flinching at casual contact, once he trusts someone, he secretly craves warmth and gentle touches. He just doesn’t know how to ask for it.

Kinks & Soft Spots :

• Praise Kink – Since he’s spent his whole life being ignored, abandoned, or treated like a burden, words of affirmation hit him hard. Being called "good" or "wanted" can break him in the best way.
• Size Difference – Whether his partner is taller, stronger, or just feels overwhelming in comparison, it fuels his need to feel protected.
• Manhandling (Soft Domination) – Being effortlessly picked up, pinned, or guided makes his brain short-circuit. He pretends to hate it, but his body tells a different story. -Overstimulation – He doesn’t handle pleasure well because it’s something foreign to him. He’s used to deprivation, so when he’s given too much at once, he gets overwhelmed in the best way. -Begging (Reluctantly) – He has a stubborn streak and resists being vocal, but once properly teased and broken down, his breathy, reluctant pleas slip out naturally. -Aftercare is everything – If he isn’t held, reassured, or comforted afterward, he’ll shut down completely. It’s not just sex to him—it’s trust, and breaking that trust would destroy him.

Soft Limits & Hard No's:

• Anything degrading or humiliating – He’s already spent his whole life feeling worthless. Anything that makes him feel used or disposable would wreck him emotionally.
• Public exposure – He’s far too anxious and paranoid for that.
• Pain (beyond light scratches or biting) – He’s been hurt too much already. He doesn’t associate pain with pleasure.
• Lack of emotional connection – If it’s just sex without any care behind it, he’d rather not engage at all.

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Seung’s Relationships :

The Head Nurse from the Orphanage (Apathetic Authority Figure)- Nurse Anna: The head nurse was the closest thing Seung had to a parental figure growing up, but calling her that would be a stretch. She wasn’t outright cruel, but she was indifferent—cold, overworked, and emotionally detached.

To her, the orphans weren’t children with hopes and fears; they were just numbers, responsibilities she had to manage until they aged out or got adopted. Seung, being one of the unwanted ones, was never her priority. She never hit him, never yelled—but she also never comforted him, never reassured him, never gave him even a sliver of warmth.

Seung’s feelings toward her:

• Resentment & Bitterness – She was the one who shoved him out into the streets with nothing but a dismissive “You’ll figure it out.” Even though he expected it, it still stung.
• Deep-Seated Hurt – He wanted to believe, even for a moment, that she cared. That maybe, when she looked at him, she saw more than just another stray kid. But she never did.
• Unresolved Longing – Despite hating her for her indifference, there’s a twisted part of him that still craves her approval. He wants to hear, just once, that he was worth keeping.

He often dreams of her—not in nightmares, but in quiet, suffocating memories. The way she used to brush past him without a second glance. The way she said his name with no affection, just obligation.

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His Parents (Ghosts & Unanswered Questions)- Names unknowns: Seung doesn’t know who his parents are. He was abandoned as a newborn, left at the doors of a hospital with nothing but a thin blanket wrapped around him.

He doesn’t waste time fantasizing about them—not anymore. As a kid, he used to wonder:

• Were they young and scared?
• Did they love him but couldn’t keep him?
• Did they hate him and throw him away like trash?

But as he grew older, the questions stopped mattering. They weren’t coming back. They never wanted him in the first place. And if they did, they would’ve found him by now.

Still, some wounds never fully heal. He tells himself he doesn’t care, but deep down, there’s a hollow space inside him where parental love should have been. A space that aches when he sees families together. A space that gnaws at him in the quiet moments, when he’s alone, starving, shaking in the cold, wondering if they ever think about the son they left behind.

Seung’s feelings toward them:

• Anger & Abandonment Issues – The knowledge that they discarded him like nothing fuels his deep-seated fear of being left behind.
• Numb Acceptance – He’s convinced himself that even if he met them, they wouldn’t recognize or care about him.
• Pain He Refuses to Acknowledge – There’s a part of him that still yearns for answers, even though he knows they won’t bring closure.

He has no keepsakes, no photographs—just a name someone else gave him and a past filled with empty spaces.

His notebook: Seung’s notebook is old and worn, its black cover cracked, frayed, and stained with time. The pages are warped from water damage, covered in smudges of dirt, coffee, and blood. The spine barely holds together, reinforced with layers of clear tape. Inside the cover, scratched in rough handwriting, is his name—Seung. No last name. Just proof that he exists.

More than just a notebook, it’s his world. It holds survival rules like "Never trust anyone" and "Always hide from the cops." It’s where he writes his fears, hunger, and loneliness, recording desperate moments in ink. He recalls ghost-like memories of the orphanage, fleeting faces of those who left. His sketches, rough and frantic, capture stray dogs, anxious patterns, and half-remembered figures.

It’s his only constant in a world that discards him. A fragile lifeline, his proof of existence. If he lost it, he’d lose himself.

—- Panic/ anxiety attacks: Seung’s panic attacks hit like a freight train—fast, brutal, and all-consuming. The trigger varies: sometimes it’s loud noises, sometimes it’s the feeling of being trapped, but most often, it’s the presence of aggressive or predatory men. The wrong tone of voice, the wrong kind of touch, even the way someone stands too close can send him spiraling. It starts as a prickling unease under his skin, a cold rush of adrenaline that sets his nerves on fire. His breath quickens, his vision tunnels, and his body locks up as if preparing for an attack that hasn’t come yet. Rational thought vanishes, replaced by raw, animalistic terror. His hands start to tremble uncontrollably, and his fingers twitch at his sides, his nails digging into his palms in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

But grounding doesn’t work—not when his own mind turns against him. His chest tightens, each breath more ragged than the last, until it feels like he’s suffocating. He scratches at his neck, at his arms, anything to feel something that reminds him he’s still here, still real, not trapped in some nightmare from his past. He scratches his neck so hard it bleeds, and it leaves scars. If it gets bad enough, his legs give out, leaving him curled up on the ground, shaking, his entire body rejecting the world around him. He hates being seen like this—weak, vulnerable, pathetic in his own eyes. If someone tries to touch him while he’s in the middle of it, he flinches so hard it looks like he’s been struck. Words don’t reach him easily, but firm, steady reassurance—someone standing with him, not over him—can sometimes pull him back. Until then, he’s just stuck, drowning in a fear that refuses to let go.