#Muse || Youngjae Rhee

[deputygonebye]

@deathsvalcr || Taken from here. 

the second oldest rhee child scoffed quietly at shane's words, shaking his head as he turned to face the ex-deputy.   ❝ you need to stop trying to parent me.  i have two that are very much alive, i don't need someone like you to parent me.  so no, i'm not going to sit down.  you can try to make me, but i highly doubt you'll get far enough to do so. ❞

It was what he had promised to do. Even if they didn’t like it, even if they hated him for it, Shane had made a promise to Glenn to protect his children. Beloved wife and himself out on a run to scout the area, the camp’s outside limits, there was no telling when a new horde of Walkers would arrive next. Always in a surprise attack, never to be committed the same way twice. That was just the world that they all, all the survivors, would live within. Men and women and children all alike in the same fate. An unfortunate damnation, Shane hadn’t meant to stir such emotion out of Youngjae, but before the younger even opened his mouth, the former deputy knew that he did. Perhaps because he was too stubborn, himself, perhaps because he just didn’t know how to not be demanding, their sudden relationship was always a bit on the rockier side. Not that Shane was exactly bothered by such a standing. Maybe was a bit humored by it; considered himself a better disciplinarian than the boy’s own father. 

Glenn was kind and funny. Glenn was wonderful and smart in his own ways. But he wasn’t Shane, and Shane loved to exploit that difference. 

“Yeah, well, son, I don’t see them here right now.” Shane replied, watching over the camp, inspecting the engine to a broken down Hyundai. “and as I promised your daddy before he left with your mama, I’m gonna keep an eye on you. You ain’t allowed to leave. Not as long as I’m stuck tryin’ to fix this here light blue Santa Fe beauty. Once she’s up and runnin’, we’ll be back in business. Until then, your ass ain’t goin’ nowhere. You’ll be sittin’ there in that seat ‘till I’m done, got it?”

Groaning, for a huge oil splutter landed upon his cheek, he asked in genuine curiousness, wiping his skin with the hem of his shirt, an off-white top stained brown, “I get the feelin’ that you don’t like me very much, Youngjae. Why’s that? To be honest with you, man, I like you an awful lot. Sure, you got your mama’s mouth, but you ain’t bad. You’re a good kid. So, what’s the deal? I make you uncomfortable or somethin’?”